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#born again... i get it. i get why it's so highly regarded. really enjoyed reading this.

fervency-if · 9 months

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Hi Niko! Thank you for answering my last ask, I adore how Elan's reactions are always so sweet, it just makes me want to show him love in all the ways I can🥺Big love to you as well, each character makes me even more hooked on the story, getting to know each one of them is a delightful experience.

This time I'd like to show some appreciation for the rest of our main cast and know a little bit more about their creation process. For starters; how was the process of naming them? Did you think a whole lot abou it? I think they do look like their names, personality wise. And who was the first character to be "born"? I don't know how your writing process goes, but my bet is on the Psysichian!

Hi again! Oh, you're so sweet, I highly appreciate your kind words! And my pleasure - I really enjoy replying to asks, seeing what people are curious about and such. It's rewarding to me as a writer! The fact that you find Elan so sweet (he would smile ever so sweetly yet shyly if he read what you said,) and that you enjoy the rest of the cast as well, really means a lot to me! Sending you love in return!

When it comes to your first question, I came up with a lot of the names pretty much on a complete whim, actually. I'm definitely glad that you think that they suit the characters!

I don't quite recall how I came up with the Physician's actually - I wanted it to consist of two pretty names, and I wanted it to be long, but I'm not entirely certain why I picked those two. The one starting with a C might be because of celestial bodies and a nocturnal life, but I couldn't say... I have no idea about the name starting with an L.

When it comes to Aubrey's name, it was when I thought about names for the main character for those who wanted to pick from a list. I chose some androgynous names that I find nice, and the name Aubrey came up in my head - and then I thought 'that would fit that skeleton perfectly...' So in a sense, he stole the name from the main character!

Vesa's name was a complete whim... There wasn't much thought behind it at all, more than 'I think it suits her, it's a charming name.'

Regarding Narciso, I wanted him to have a beautiful name, and I wanted it to be Italian, or be an Italian version of a name, and then it just came to me. I felt that Narciso suited someone who was known for their beauty and who could seem a bit like a diva (falling in love with his own reflection or some such,) and in hindsight, it felt like a name that someone might very well pick as a stage name, too.

I had the name Roswhen in my head before I created them - I wanted to give a character that name. I read the name somewhere, I think it was a list of nature names, and found it very pretty.

Elan was simply named after his parent. I didn't know that he would become a more major character when I named him - back then, at the very beginning, he was just some man you could heal. I named his parent Elmer because it's a name that sounds rather friendly in a way, I would say. Uncomplicated, nothing fancy, and the name Elan gave me similar vibes as well as being similar as it is. This entire process took less than a minute, so even writing this took longer than that!

You're absolutely correct about the Physician being the first one who was 'born' - as a matter of fact, she's a few years older than the other characters! This game was based on a short (very short, 1200 words or so) story I wrote a few years ago when I got a prompt saying 'write a short story about vampires.' She was, aside from the main character (who was an unnamed person of unknown gender,) the only game-character to feature, if one doesn't count the mayor's son, who was only mentioned as some guy who started the ballroom pandemonium by eating some man when the narrator of the story was busy kissing and feasting in the cloakroom. So when I started writing the story, I had a fairly good idea about her character already, her demeanour and so on. The only thing I knew about Aubrey was that I wanted him to be small and unhinged!

Again, thank you so much for your nice message! I had a lot of fun answering these questions, it's so much fun talking about my process!

#writing fervency #🫶

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thed4rkhand · 3 years

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Kim Taehyung Nakshatra

Kim Taehyung and his Nakshatra analysis.

I got this really cool request about Kim Taehyung and him potentially being a Vishaka rising, and I really wanted to analyze it. So here is what I came up with, hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed poking about.

Let me make it clear right off the bat, that since I’m not a professional astrologer, some things may not match up, further since we’re not super sure of his birth time, it’ll definitely affect the reading. What I can be sure of is that I’ll do my best and I’m completely open to constructive criticism from you all!

Now lets get on with some basic stuff, for those who have not yet read the post with Namjoon’s moon analysis, I’ll again reiterate some principles of Vedic astrology! In the scenario that you’re still confused with all this jargon, feel free to reach out and I’ll be more than happy to help you out.

Starting out, we have to note that while western astrology is usually more advisory in nature, Vedic astrology’s main purpose is to predict. Also, we usually go a sign back from western astrology in Vedic astrology, so according to that for example, if you’re a libra rising, you become a virgo rising in Vedic astrology and so on and so forth. All planets will also shift back a sign, so a Capricorn Mercury will become a Sagittarius Mercury.

Since this is the first ‘only nakshatra analysis’ concerned posts on this blog, ill pre-explain some other facets of Nakshatras too. For those of you who don’t understand it still, you can refer to my post dedicated to explaining what nakshataras are through the master-list.

Now a person may display qualities other than that of their ascendant nakshatra, or moon or sun, because sometimes people have stellium or maybe an exalted planet or maybe a really strong planet in another Nakshatra, or maybe a lone planet in a certain Nakshatra is aspecting the lagna or even a stellium, that would all alter the degree to which the nakshatra would individually affect the person. So for this analysis, we will check the ascendant only, and other than that, we’ll check any aspects and lastly the nakshatra lord, and the dispositers.

So for this reading, we’ve taken the birth time as 4:15am on 30th December 1995, and birthplace is set to daegu, south korea (even if this isn’t where he’s born, rest assured since south korea is fairly small, it wont matter much).

Now on with the actual reading part-

So his ascendant is at 29’37 degrees in libra in the Nakshatra of Vishaka, within the third quadrant, where quadrant ruler is Mercury through Gemini. Vishaka’s ruler jupiter is in the third house, conjunct sun and mars in sagittarius, (i.e mooltrikon for jupiter). Jupiter itself sits in mula nakshatra and within the second quadrant of this.

Now onto the really cool stuff, since this stuff is being introduced for the first time, i’ll create a proper post explaining it, post it before this so you guys can check that out too. So keep cross checking it, otherwise i'll have to add it before each Nakshatra analysis.

His nakshatra here is vishaka, misra in nature, caste is mlechh, guna is sattwic, gana is rakshasa, purpose is dharma, deities are Indra and Agni, element is fire, gender is female, animal is tiger, Nadi is kappha and sign is libra.

So now getting on with the actual interpretation of the Vedic jargon above is here-

Firstly, lets get started with the main Nakshatra here, Vishaka. This falls between libra and scorpio, with the first 3 quadrants in libra and the last one in scorpio. Vishaka is represented by two forked branches, reprinting the constant inner battle inside the natives. They may appear very orthodox at times, very stubborn and fixed in their views and traditions, however such people are also extremely progressive and accepting. Due to this weird polarization, some natives have extreme trouble putting forth their views on many subjects here, and tend to observe others for a long time before making up their minds about something. Since the sign is inherently ruled by fire, such people are extremely intense and intimidating to others and love being in the spotlight while being surrounded by loved ones. However due to this intense nature and love for the spotlight, these people have a hard time maintaining friendships. Jupiter is their ruling planet, and you can see that influence in them, too. They are some of the most unconventionally intelligent people you will meet. Add to that their beliefs of spirituality and non-violence, and you’ve got the perfect person, however They are prone to addictions like drugs and alcohol, and they are also overly self-conscious. Instead of enjoying what they have, they will always concentrate on what they lack, therefore being called ‘the star of purpose’, for they’re always searching for a new purpose.

It is often believed that the lover of lord Krishna, Radha was born under this nakshatra. Thus it is believed, such natives have immense charm and beauty, while being innately pure within. They have people falling for them one after another, but once they find someone or something they like, they’ll remain devoted to it. Such people have a ‘Je ne sais quoi’ about them, one can’t very well point it out, but something so magnetic is present. They’re often said to be in direct connect with the divine (lord Krishna was after all a god), and are blessed by god for good fortune.

The native of this nakshatra might be interested in astrology and art.The natives of this nakshatra are good-natured and likes fair-judgement. They have a interest in religion and love the religious rituals too. They speak softly and due to which they easily impress others. They usually don’t speak harshly. Due to the effect of Jupiter they are always ready to learn and teach others. They are ambitious and don’t believe in following the societal rules. They work hard to achieve their ambitions and due to which they receive success also. The natives are wealthy, powerful and have an impressive nature and therefore people get easily impressed by them. The person is compassionate and confluence of ethics, rites and good qualities in the person. Due to the combination of all these qualities the native becomes financially sound also. The native believes in saving money due to which they never face financial crisis. They can influence others with their word. However on the flip side, They like showing off and are a bit arrogant by nature. Vishakha nakshatra is the nakshatra of Jupiter, that is why they have a mild behavior. But they are short tempered also. According to their behavior they are always ready to fight with others. (see how jin and tae, and vmin always fight, in-fact he was named as one of the members most likely to pick a fight)

Something I found very interesting is how Taehyung’s ascendant falls in the 3rd pada or quadrant of Vishaka, which corresponds to the sound ‘Te’ as in pronunciation wise ‘Tae’, and being named taehyung is thus extremely auspicious for him. This is rare among people unaware of Vedic traditions, and no wonder it has worked so well for his fortune and luck.

Now Jupiter through vishaka Rules Lower Abdomen, Bladder parts, kidneys, pancreatic glands, Genitals, Rectum, Prostate Gland, Descending colon. Thus the natives are prone to nose bleeding, renal stone, dropsy, rupture, prostate enlargement, fibroid tumor, urinary trouble.

Now he’s born under the third quadrant. These natives are light-hearted and curious. They enjoy learning and acquiring knowledge on diverse topics. However they may be afflicted by anxiety and often struggle with conflicting emotions regarding work and love, material and spiritual realms and so much more (remember that gemini is two faced, and vishaka itself is branched). Since it falls under gemini, such people are social butterflies, amicable, smart and communicative.Due to their warm and altruistic personality, they can easily make friends with others. Their diversity of personal interests also helps them to form friendships with a wide variety of people. Thus they have no issue maintaining an active and vibrant social life. They are extremely wise for their age and have a natural insight into the workings of the world and of human nature. They are truthful and devout, and are naturally-inclined toward spirituality. They bring energy and enthusiasm to whatever tasks they undertake.

Now we’ll brush over the nakshatra lord quickly, and then move back into really fun nakshatra stuff.

Jupiter as ruler of vishaka is in the 3rd house, conjunct sun and mars, with no aspects.The natives are good planners (3rd house is short distant journeys). Besides, they are highly curious and enjoy making connections with others. They feel happy to share ideas. They are able to see the larger picture and often turn to others for advice and suggestions. Also, they easily put the people at ease in social situations and have higher mental capabilities. They can become intuitive as Jupiter will expand their mental power, so they can even grasp new information quickly and comprehend things effortlessly. The placement of Jupiter in the 3rd house will also help the natives in education. The natives are likely to excel in writing and literary fields( his degree is in communications and broadcasting I believe). Since this is also the house of younger siblings, people have great relationships with their siblings here.Since the 3rd house is also a upachaya sthana (house of growth) the native will have good growth of career and wealth, and with its aspect on the 7th house, marital bliss is also guaranteed. Aspects on the 11th and 9th houses promise a powerful social circle, and gains through foreign land as well as fame.

However, despite all these great results from sitting in its mooltrikon, Jupiter is still afflicted by sun and mars. Such people with age (upachaya house moves with age) speak less and less because they think twice before they speak and choose their words very carefully. With this conjunction of 3 masculine friendly planets thus when together in a house, makes people highly influential. The native tends to enjoy a good financial and social status. This conjunction is often found in the horoscope of influential and high-ranking individuals such as politicians. When Sun, Mars and Jupiter are housed together in a horoscope, the native earns a lot of wealth, fame, and respect in life. Such people live a prosperous life for the most part and do not have to work hard to make it big, as they have unpaid karma they receive in this lifetime. Moreover, these natives tend to be very loyal and straightforward.

Now onto dissecting the nakshatra even more, let's get into the characteristics of vishaka.

Being of Misra nature, they are of an extremely fiery temperament, are actually prone to being pyromaniacs too. I have noticed that such people also have great metabolisms. They are quiet in large crowds, and prefer one to one conversations and are also extremely philanthropic. Great organizers, extremely interested in art and technology, and absolutely brilliant at getting rid of bad habits (fire purifies).

Vishakha is a monstrous nakshatra. People in this group are generally intuitive, strong-willed, and assertive. They may be prone to anger and violence. However Libra natives possess excellent taste and good judgement. They are friendly, learned, and dignified, but may be prone to arrogance as persons born under the star of Vishakha have a wide sphere of influence. For this reason, they do well in social and political arenas. It is said that that the natives under vishaka have vyapana shakti, or the power to “Achieve and Make Manifest, Power to Achieve many and various Fruits of Life” (remember how he always talks to his angels?)

Now he’s a mleccha caste, which according to Vedic traditions means an outsider or an outcaste (as these people did not follow societal rules, or fit into the Vedic practices as they were of foreign origin). This could honestly be why we talk about his 4D personality, because of the caste. He has an unconventional way of doing things and thinking, which don’t fit into the broader spectrum due to this. Also we can see that it follows the dharma nakshatra, so he is inherently concerned with principles, morals, duty and finding his life’s purpose. This can make his very spiritually inclined and intuitive, also very restless and prone to depression. Now coming to his dosa of kaphha, (the Water quality). This makes a native very philosophical, calm and patient, sometimes so much so that other’s perceive them as lazy, and simply ‘lucky’. With his sattwa qualities here, with Jupiter, a rajas planet, he can often has a duality between rajas qualities with fiery temperament and passion for everything and then an extremely calm and cool quality of sattwa, where one is not concerned about the consequences of their actions and are concerned with being in the moment.

The yoni of the nakshatra is a male tiger (tae tae?). This means the natives have attributes similar to those of tigers.Tigers are handsome and powerful people with an innate self-confidence and elegance. There's a sense of immediacy and an aura of electricity that surrounds it, and when it walks into a room, it feels like something is about to happen. Once a tiger has found its groove, it will focus on its goal with a brightly burning intensity. In social situations, the tiger is an excellent host and there is no such thing as a casual party in its home. Guests can always expect a memorable occasion with an extravagance of food and drink, and yet, there is a distinct coldness to its den. Having sacrificed comfort for style, the tiger outfits its house with austere and modern furniture, and comfortably worn easy chairs are replaced every few years.But their emotional detachment should not be confused with a desire to avoid tenderness; for intimacy is the tiger's greatest sensual tool. Offering its lover some deeply held secrets adds another dimension to both platonic and romantic relationships for a tiger. They are fiercely independent and always on the move, so it can be quite hard to discern such people.

And lastly coming to the deities of the nakshatra, the two deities, Indra (Lord of Lightning) and Agni (Lord of Fire), are known to rule this nakshatra. Hence, Vishakha witnesses the relay of characteristics of both of these ruling deities. Since both of these deities exhibit some characteristics which are not in accordance with the other, Vishakha becomes a mixture of different kinds of characteristics. Lightening tends to have similar impact with the forcefulness of the light, and the destructive power to do what it sets out to do. The energy of Agni however, is more cleansing. Agni is the God which takes our oblations offered to the Gods to them. It is the energy that gives us the opportunity to cook food and nourish ourselves. It creates ashes from all that is offered making it pure and able to clean any impurities. The natives can have a lot to do with justice, social righteousness and causes. There could be a lot of intensity here especially to do the right thing and a lot of righteous principle because of these two deities.

Finally, a shortened version of Vedic tradition story associated with the nakshatra-

Indra, according to Vedic Mythology, is known to be very goal-oriented, and who is often insecure about losing his throne to someone else. In an attempt to keep his throne intact he commits many deeds that can be bad karmas according to Vedic Astrology. For example, Indra once tried to kill the pregnant wife of demon Hiranyakshipu in order to stop him from worshipping Lord Brahma and getting great powers as a result of his worship. Indra feared that Hiranyakshipu will gain powers and then attack the heavens and remove him from his throne and in order to save his throne he tried to disturb the worship of Hiranyakshipu by every possible means. Though he did not succeed due to the intervention of DevRishi (Sage) Naarad who was able to influence the higher Gods to stop Indra from committing such a heinous deed. This goal oriented nature of Indra is relayed through Vishakha and accordingly the natives under the strong influence of this nakshatra are very fixated on their goals and they are always in a danger of engaging in bad karmas in order to achieve their goals.

Indra is also known for his deep interests in drinking, women and enjoying other pleasures and these qualities of Indra are also relayed through this nakshatra and accordingly the natives under the strong influence of this nakshatra are likely to be fond of materialistic pleasures of all kinds. Agni on the other hand is seen as the ruling deity of Fire according to Vedic mythology and he is portrayed as the one with a good character. The influence of Agni on Vishakha brings sufficient energy to this nakshatra which can help the natives achieve their goals.

An incident is quoted in Vedic mythology where a demon prayed to god Agni to protect him and then after assurance from Agni, he started worshipping lord Brahma for gaining powers. Indra, seeing it as a threat to his power came to kill the demon but Agni who had promised the demon to save him, came in the way and fought Indra and prevented him from killing the demon. It should be noted that Agni fought with Indra in order to practice the right deeds despite the fact that Indra was his king. So the influence of Agni on this nakshatra brings positive qualities of Agni and how a particular native under the influence of Vishakha will behave is very much dependent on which of these two ruling deities is controlling Vishakha in his horoscope.

Anyway, this was my analysis of the nakshatra, hope you guys enjoyed it! Let me know about other stuff too, and ill be more than happy to help!

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boys-night · 3 years

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Mickey and Ian - communication, sex, and relationship styles, post 11x07

Here’s my take on how Ian and Mickey relate to sexuality and relationship styles, thinking mainly about 11x07, but also looking more broadly at the series and including HoS. If you’re not interested in incorporating 11x07 in your version of canon, ignore this! I enjoyed 11x07 but I understand people have different ways of seeing Ian and Mickey’s relationship. I’m also doing the classic meta thing of taking seriously exaggerated/comic/contradictory elements in the show because that’s how I roll.

Super long post under cut.

I’ve been reading Sexuality: A Graphic Guide by Meg-John Barker and Jules Scheele which is where a lot of the following ideas and terminology come from. I’ve also been looking at Meg-John Barker’s free relationship zine on their website rewritingtherules.com. I highly recommend their work, including the podcast they have with Justin Hancock, The Meg-John and Justin podcast (although MJ has left now and it’s called Culture, Sex, Relationships, but you can check out the backlog!)

They think about sex and relationship styles using various models including monogamy/polyamory, allosexuality/asexuality, romance/aromance etc. They look at these different facets of sexuality/relationship styles as complicated continua rather than binaries which shift over time. They also write about sexuality on an action/identity spectrum, communication strategies around relationships styles, and the windows into relationships. Here, I’m looking at all of these things thinking about Ian and Mickey’s relationship and as individuals within the relationship.

The monogamy/polyamory continuum

I’ve seen a bit of debate about how to label Mickey and Ian’s relationship on the monogamy/polyamory spectrum and I think it’s a pretty complex question especially considering those labels mean different things to different people and that relationships shift a lot over time. While labels like these can be useful, they can also be rigid and restrictive in their own ways.

Some terms that come close-ish to what they say they’ve decided in 11x07 are monoamorous and polysexual, considering they aren’t at all interested in romantic connections outside of each other but are up for sex (in a broad sense) with other people. But these terms don’t account for the agreement that they’re only exploring sex with other people when they’re together.

As people have pointed out, some of the boundary setting around exactly how they’re involving other people in the relationship is left off-screen, and also they’re not necessarily going to form identities around how they act in one episode. I’ve also seen people suggest reading their relationship style as monagamish and/or that what they do with other people is part of kink/play. I think these make sense in different ways and that in 11x07 Ian and Mickey definitely focus more on what they do (action) rather than who they are (identity) in regards to monogamy/polyamory.

In 11x01, Ian’s focus is more on identity. He sets up a binary choice between being monagamous or not in their relationship. 11x07 indicates they’ve moved through off-screen discussion into a much more personalised arrangement with more focus on actions allowing for flexibility over time. In 11x07, we see them agree on rules: sex in a broad sense is allowed outside of the primary partnership, love isn’t. They keep negotiations ongoing (e.g. in the bedroom, in the furniture store), and there is an indication that these rules could change over time.

I’d love to read/explore more about the ways in which this approach has changed over the course of the whole show. At the start of their relationship, definitely prior to s4, they have much more implicit rules about who they can have sex with, and those implicit rules become problematic in s5, when they realise they’re not completely on the same page regarding them. They bring up clashing ideas around the rules when Mickey’s leaving prison in s10 too. In s11, their relationship becomes more intentional, with these rules stated aloud rather than assumed.

The action/identity continuum in regards to gay sexuality

On a slight tangent, I think there’s a comparison to be made here to how they relate to sexuality (specifically gender of attraction) and the idea of gay identity, which seems to develop in the other direction. For Mickey especially, for a long time having sex with men was something he did rather than something he was, and that’s gradually somewhat shifted over the course of the show. There’s so much more that can be explored here, for instance, about how the action-based approach is much more acceptable within the hyper-masculine environment he was raised. Terry also approaches it this way when talking about prison sex, for example. According to this very oppressive social script, having sex with men in certain circumstances can be OK but claiming that as part of who you are is absolutely not.

But I also want to stress, I don’t think either approach to gay sexuality, looking at it through actions or through identity, is inherently better or worse. These different lenses on sexuality also intersect with class and levels of education. As explored in Sexuality: A Graphic Guide, the identity approach is also relatively a very modern way of seeing sexuality (late 20th century). Gender of attraction is also only one facet of sexuality (which includes amount of sex you want, type of sex, sexual roles etc.) but its now often regarded as the only or most important facet of sexuality. The identity-based approach is much more acceptable within the more aspirational/middle class settings they interact with in s10 and s11. In these seasons, Mickey and to a lesser extent Ian aren’t completely willing to accept it wholesale. I like how, for example, even well after “coming out”, Mickey often still approaches sexuality through actions rather than identity, e.g. his response to the woman at the flower shop asking if he’s a homosexual: “He is, I just like having another man’s dick up my ass.”

However, I also think it’s cool/interesting how Ian and Mickey both move towards and embrace various parts of mainstream gay identity in s11 too, and a large part of that involves combatting the sexism, femmephobia, and hypermasculinity with which they were raised, e.g. of course, singing and dancing to Lady Gaga and Ariana Grande in the bathroom.

You could also look at the different ideas about the origins of their gay sexuality in HoS through this lens. Mickey goes for a psychological/behavioural approach (based in like early 20th century sexological theories); Ian goes for a born-this-way, biological/genetic approach (popularised in the 1980s as part of gay pride movements).

Mickey’s approach is very old school (definitely a way of thinking that reflects his upbringing), which assumes straight is the norm from which gay deviates, to do with Freudian theory/the idea of homosexuality as pathology. He doesn’t, for example, seek to use the same model (Fiona’s bad relationship history) to explain why Lip is straight. Ian’s approach (”not because I was born this way?”) reflects his investment in the intractability of sexuality related to his strict opposition to conversion therapy models and the idea of being gay as a choice. It also reflects the way he reacts negatively/disbelievingly to Debbie’s more flexible sexuality (in s8?). While obviously it’s fucked up/impossible to force people to change their sexuality and it’s perfectly reasonable for him to define the origins of his own sexuality however he wants, this approach risks excluding more fluid experiences of sexuality.

Again, Mickey’s approach is more behavioural/action oriented and Ian’s is more identity oriented. They both seem pretty willing to shift their ideas around this though (especially Mickey, who potentially is just regurgitating old stuff he’s heard without thinking). The concluding thought is that Ian is gay because he likes Mickey’s d, lol.

Individual differences on sex and relationship continua

I really like the detail that Ian doesn't want to have sex and be friends with anyone else aside from Mickey. In 11x07, he doesn't want to make friends with the guys in the locker room although he's down for repeat sexual experiences which suggests he thinks he forms romantic attachment through a combination of both sex and friendship. It seems like it's important to him in his negotiation with Mickey that they don't form romantic attachments outside of their own relationship.

This relates back to the 87% thing in HoS where Ian says he tends to get at least slightly attached to everyone he has sex with and Mickey has 87% of his heart. Mickey doesn’t like the 87% thing at all but I reckon it outlines a really interesting difference between the two characters in regards to relationship styles. It indicates that Ian is comfortable with a slightly less mononormative way of doing nurturance/care than Mickey, while Mickey seems to initiate more of the polysexuality than Ian in 11x07. (Although of course, we don’t see how Ian would react if Mickey were to tell him he’s got 87% of his heart! -- but this is a very difficult to imagine scenario).

Sex is a big part of their relationship for both of them. Both Ian and Mickey seem pretty allosexual (e.g. they feel sexual attraction for other people generally), but Mickey is possibly even more so than Ian. Mickey also maybe falls on the aromantic/grayromantic spectrum (once again, the labels can be really useful but I don’t want to be too prescriptive/rigid). Ian seems to be more alloromantic, with a capacity to experience romantic attraction to a whole bunch of people. For him, sex and romance seem to be more interconnected in all cases although he can definitely separate the two (especially when thinking about transactional sex etc).

But I think it's more complex than that. For instance, Mickey reserves certain sexual acts for just between him and Ian and its clear that they have both intimacy and exploration in their sex life. From the outset, Ian and Mickey’s relationship involves exploration and excitement with sex, and provides a freedom to explore their sexualities in regards to sexual roles and kink. It’s clear that Mickey values the safe space Ian specifically gives him in this regard from very early on in their relationship. There’s a parallel here with the bathroom Gaga/Grande scene where Ian’s instinct isn’t to tease or make fun of Mickey but support him embracing more stereotypical gay behaviours and/or more fluid gender roles to the ones he’s grown up with outside of sex too.

Also it might be useful to complicate the idea of romance itself which is a really difficult idea to pin down and which seems to mean different things for both of them. I love the stress on friendship in 11x07. Friendship and also family connection play such key parts in their relationship with one another and the way in which they are attached, arguably even more so than traditional models romance. Both HoS and the Hopper painting discussion are interesting to think about in regards to the ways Ian and Mickey think about the concept of romance differently and the ways it intersects with or differs from their ideas around friendship/family. I like how Mickey’s willing to see getting a coffee together as romantic in a positive way for instance after Ian explains that it’s about togetherness in hard times. While maybe Mickey sees Ian’s suggestion of having a bath together as awkward/weird because he views it more as trying to live up to a social script of what is “romantic”.

Communication strategies around relationship styles

In s11, Ian and Mickey’s relationship is very entwined, and, in comparison to Tami and Lip, for instance, they disclose a lot to each other. Ian asks that they tell each other everything, and although Mickey is more resistant to that initially, he becomes much more forthcoming with his feelings in s11 (around Terry, around moving to the West Side, around becoming a parent).

While I appreciate Ian’s role in initiating more communication between the two of them, I felt sorry for Mickey in their initial discussion in 11x01 in re “monogamous or not”. The turning over the paper method is a pretty binary way to open up a discussion about a very charged and complicated thing.

They do seem to complement each other in this regard though with Ian generally more keen to initiate conversation but also getting more trapped into binaries, narratives of normativity and should-stories. While Mickey totally still projects an image that is informed by local expectations around masculinity and white supremacy, he’s also a rule-breaker in many ways and doesn’t have the same desire to conform to what society perceives to be “normal” (thanks HoS), especially behind closed doors and within his relationship with Ian (“liking what I like don’t make me a bitch”). @fiona-fififi had a really good point in the tags a while back about how Mickey’s investment in their wedding and its success might have spurred Ian on further to embrace more normative ways of doing relationships. This is super interesting, and also makes me think just about how being married itself prompts Ian to think about taking a more active role in pushing the relationship further up the relationship escalator and in pushing for more communication around these steps in general.

There’s also something to be said about pressurising each other in 11x07, especially when they jokingly(?) threaten each other with sex with other men if both of them aren’t around. I doubt they were making these suggestions seriously but it definitely doesn’t strike me as the most consensual method of communication. But there’s parallels here with generally using sex as a bargaining chip earlier on in the season. Ian seems to do that after having exhausted his attempts at trying to have conversations around money/monogamy etc, as a tried and tested way of getting Mickey to engage with him. And it definitely reflects using sex with each other and sex/relationships with other people (e.g. s3 Angie/Ned, s10 Byron/Cole) as modes of communication in earlier seasons. It kind of makes sense that they still have these habits in s11 even if they are no longer the primary mode of communication.

Ian and Mickey relied so much on implicit communication in the early seasons and they have highly developed nonverbal ways of communicating. I don’t want to say that either verbal or nonverbal ways of communicating are inherently better than the other. They seem to understand each other on a deep level, which is really cool, but people have pointed out can make them think they don’t need to verbally communicate when they do, because they assume that they’ll understand one another and be on the same page. It’s super interesting to see them maintain that deep connection and continue to use nonverbal cues while also adopting more explicit and intentional communication styles in s10 and s11.

The windows of their relationship

The fandom is always bringing up how Ian and Mickey leave the doors open when they bang, lol, and also making fun of how much Ian overshares. I think this is v fair but it also strikes me as pretty healthy that he wants people to see into his and Mickey’s relationship, especially in his discussions with Lip. But Ian’s got plenty of people around him who can see and help when things get tough.

In s11, it’s great to see Mickey get closer to the Gallagher family and see various members defending him or taking his side in arguments, but he definitely does have less of an on-screen support system than Ian. (I wish that they had developed his and Sandy’s relationship in s11). I think the aftermath of the City Hall incident in s10 really reveals this particular imbalance in their relationship. On one level, Mickey moves in with Byron as a reaction to being hurt and even maybe a strategy of revenge/manipulation, on another, he doesn’t really have anywhere to go aside from the Gallagher house when/if he needs to get away from Ian. Also, the way he retreats back to the Gallagher house when he can’t deal with the Westside is an interesting development of this in s11.

Ian’s need to share stuff about their relationship is kind of exciting considering his history of being unforthcoming about his relationships (and his history of being in a lot of secret relationships), as well as how difficult he found it to talk about Mickey while Mickey was away. But there is a different problem with ongoing talk around privacy and boundaries here too (Mickey doesn’t want Ian to chat about how he’s not into rimming!). Although to be fair, Mickey also chats about a lot of explicit sex stuff with strangers.

Although they do ultimately decide against pursuing the pretty inorganic way of making friends in 11x07, Ian’s desire to make gay friends who he can talk to about relationship stuff makes sense in terms of the way he has been pushing for a more intentional relationship with more communication and more explicit discussion and compromise this season (and last season too). It also intersects with an idea of him/both of them going further to embrace gay sexuality as an identity.

It’s interesting that Mickey’s the one to initiate this decision through ribbing Ian about his relationship with Lip. Why’s Mickey doing that? Is it just to be a little shit or is he also trying (subconsciously?) to activate Ian in some direction? (And also, maybe there’s a parallel there to getting their apartment in the west side, where Mickey’s the one inadvertently introducing Ian to the idea by pushing for them to go play in the pool).

-----------

There’s a lot here which is just scratching the surface of thinking about Ian and Mickey’s relationship in the context of these different sexuality and relationship continua. For e.g. it would be really interesting to think more about this stuff in terms of shifting sex roles and kink exploration. Of course it’s all up for interpretation and I am sure I am highlighting areas that I’m personally interested in and inadvertently projecting myself/my own preferences and styles into this discussion. Very down for disagreements and discussions if other people are interested and manage to read all of this, lol.

#Ian x Mickey #Gallavich #shameless meta #shameless 11x07 #sexuality #relationships #Meg-John Barker #shameless s11 #Ian Gallagher #Mickey Milkovich #why did i write all of this?#Shameless HoS

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 2

Rating: Explicit. 18+

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it’s own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You’re Peter’s classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don’t know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you’re lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Bad girls are sad girls! Always wondered what goes through the mind of a spoiled, rich but intelligent and perceptive teenager? Have you found yourself craving that adrenaline rush, the danger of a forbidden fruit? Okay. That was cheesy as hell. Gross.

Let’s try again. Sarcasm? Check. Vine references? Hell yes! Crude humour? Check. Blunt honesty? Double check. We’re living in a Lana del Rey song, ladies.

The author doesn’t actually condone codependent relationships in real life. This is a filthy little fantasy. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @vozit @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! She deserves all the love 💙

Peter woke me up at eight AM the next morning like the little shit that he was, demanding I make him pancakes. It wasn’t the first time I’ve had the joy to experience him in the morning and he knew exactly how to antagonise me enough to make him the special pancakes he liked so much. They had become kind of a ritual whenever he stayed over at my house, which was quite often - teachers liked me enough to pair me up with one of the most sensible kids for any projects that couldn’t be done alone by yours truly on her own.

I put on my yesterday’s dress, applied moisturizer and obediently trotted behind an excitedly mumbling Peter. The kitchen was large, beautiful and delightfully empty of any resident superheroes. I’ve indirectly crossed paths with all of the tower’s residents hanging around Tony, but I’ve yet had to speak more than polite niceties to any of them.

Spying a bowl of boiled eggs and some sort of weird salad alongside half burned toast on the counter, I suddenly understood why Peter demanded his pancakes. I strictly instructed the disaster child to stay away from my cooking process and set to work with one ear listening to his ramblings and a headphone in the other.

A set of thumping footsteps appeared behind me as I was pouring the batter for the first pancake. Their owner loudly sat down next to Peter, sighing, groaning, generally making “I’m not a morning person” sounds.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes,” Peter’s tone was way, way too chipper.

“‘mrng,” The Sergeant grumbled. “Who’s this and why is she making pancakes?”

I turned around, spatula at the ready. “It’s me,” We’ve actually met before, but Barnes had left before I could even come over from my side of the work bench to say hello.

He nodded in acknowledgement after giving me a suspicious once-over. “One of Stark’s science children. I’m James but you can call me Bucky,” His voice sounded rough and gravely, and he clutched a coffee cup half the size of my head.

I snorted. “Science child, sure,” It wasn’t half-bad actually. I wisely choose to ignore the part of being Tony’s. No matter how hot the man was, I wasn’t anybody’s but my own, thank you very much. “Go get the bananas, Nutella and maple syrup, fellow science child.”

Peter scrambled to follow instructions as I plated the pancakes and cut the bananas into neat little rings to fill the sweet circles with. A tablespoon of Nutella, half a sliced banana, wrap, garnish with powdered sugar and pour maple syrup generously on top. I really didn’t see how this could be difficult but any and all attempts to teach Peter how to recreate my masterpiece always ended up in an absolute mess. I turned around to ask Bucky if he wanted any. The look of a man starved answered all my questions.

“You’re a goddess,” Peter moaned around his mouthful, nose smudged white with the powdered sugar.

“Gross, chew first then talk, you neanderthal,” I scoffed, prepping more batter for the second batch of pancakes. I wasn’t sure if everybody would show up but figured it would be rude to exclude them from the sheer magnificence that were my pancakes. I was just that good.

The music in my ear drowned most of Peter’s disgusting chewing noises, thankfully. My second batch vanished into thin air, inhaled by the two males like the garbage disposals that they were. Peter, in particular, ate an alarming quantity of food and I was surprised how he managed to stay so skinny. His daily eating schedule resembled the Hobbits.

More people appeared, this time acting less surprised regarding me standing at the stove. Hawkeye, Black Widow, Scarlet Witch and her brother, all of them wandered in wearing sleep attire with various amusing prints. Thankfully, they mostly kept quiet or chatted with Peter - I would have definitely grumbled if someone tried to talk to me. As far as my body was concerned it was still the middle of the night.

“PANCAKES,” A booming voice announced and I shuddered at the sheer intensity and devotion contained in that one word. Thor.

“Please use your indoor voice,” I snapped reflectively. My brain caught up with what I just did so I hastily backtracked. “Sorry, I’m a bitch in the mornings.”

The blonde man chuckled, coming over to poke his nose into my flurry of pour-flip-fill sequence. Then, with all the grace and manners of a prince, he dipped one (1) large finger into the jar of Nutella and wandered off with it stuck in his mouth. With this turn of events the Nutella was bound to run out sooner than expected.

I turned around, annoyed confusion in plain sight. “The fuck?.. That’s gross, don’t do that,” Finding his brother (adopted!) sitting next to Thor, wearing a haughty smirk, finger still in his mouth. So Loki turned into his brother to steal Nutella from a jar. I sighed. Nobody even batted an eye. “Your alien germs are in there now, double ew.”

“Alien germs? Where?” Bruce entered the kitchen with a tablet under his arm, wearing Hulk themed pajamas, Captain America in tow. I was honestly on the verge of breaking down into hysterical laughter. Domestic Avengers wasn’t something I’d expected to see or experience, ever, much less be a part of. It took a moment for me to remind myself that they were people, too, and each of them was entitled to their own quirks.

“America, egg-splain,” Peter muttered under his breath, giggling. “Loki stuck his hand in the Nutella jar,” He pointed at said jar. “She got grumpy,” Peter pointed at me. “Don’t make her grumpy, please, I want more pancakes,” And turned his pleading puppy eyes in my direction again.

“This is indentured servitude,” I pointed my spatula at the little shit. “You just had, like, ten.” But I made more batter nonetheless. I must admit it was kind of cool, seeing the earth’s mightiest defenders so relaxed. And Pete being happy, that was just… The best. I don’t know how to explain it. His eternal cheerfulness was highly contagious.

Chuckles filled up the room, the adults chatting and bickering amongst themselves while they patiently waited for their own breakfast.

“Do you need some help?” Bruce approached me after stopping to fetch himself a cup of tea. It smelled strongly of tangy herbs and honey.

“I need more Nutella and bananas,” I admitted, surveying the sheer amount of people I had to feed. I didn’t doubt the Captain and two Asgardians had an appetite to match Peter’s which meant a literal extra set of condiments was required. Thankfully, Bruce fetched them for me, coming to a stop next to me. “Anything else?”

“You know, I tried making these with Peter and he just ended up with powdered sugar and chocolate all over himself,” I mused, noting the way Banner was carefully observing the assembly of a pancake. “You think Doctor seven-phds can manage to add a few toppings to a pancake without causing a disaster?“

Bruce rolled his eyes fondly, bumping me with his hip. "I’m no Clint Barton when it comes to cooking but at least I don’t burn my toast like Steve,” True to his word, his hands made swift motions of filling, wrapping and plating each individual pancake. They were almost as good as mine albeit more messy. I had lots of practice though. We finished off a batch in companionable silence, sounds of the team and my music playing in the background.

I didn’t notice when I started swaying to the rhythm, catching a confused look from Bruce. I brushed back my hair, revealing a wireless headphone in my ear and he chuckled in understanding. “What are you listening to?”

“Right now? Kings of Leon,” I said, leaning towards him so he could hear the chorus “Use Somebody” currently occupying my right ear.

“I like them, too,” He said, his cheek gently touching mine. His hands slowed on the pancake, a soft hum vaguely reminding me of the song’s melody emanating from his throat. “What else do you usually listen to?”

“Mostly heavier stuff, but I have a whole separate playlist dedicated to mid-2000s bops,” I answered. “I’ve heard I’m quite old school when it comes to music.”

“Well, I am an old man, so…” Bruce grinned mischievously. “But my guilty pleasure is Lady Gaga,” He admitted with a laugh.

I laughed, too. The image of his dancing in his lab to Born This Way was too much for my brain and I hung my head, fighting giggles. Bruce bumped me with his hip again, faking a pout. “Okay, okay, that was a fucking hilarious image, you go dude,” I finally powered through my struggle to contain laughter. “My own guilty pleasure would be… Umm… Lana Del Rey, I guess.”

Bruce made a vague noise of confusion. I took a brief break from mixing the batter to dig out my second headphone, presenting it to him and switching to a song. “This is what makes us girls”. Despite the fact I have never stolen a car or had a close female friend, the nostalgia was real. “Carmen” followed after the first song and I silently thanked whatever deity that “You can be the boss” was taken out of Spotify - I don’t think I was prepared to share that kind of information with a lab partner. An older, handsome lab partner. Wait… Where did that come from?

“I like it,” He said after the song ended and my more usual stuff began playing. “It suits you, I think.”

I groaned. “Really? I think it’s edgy,” Hiding away the embarrassment, I passed him a tray of freshly baked pancakes, occupying his immediate attention.

“You’re an old soul,” He gave me a lopsided smile. I saw a very faint blush tinting his cheeks, the kind of blush that had me wondering about the meaning behind his words.

I gave an attempt at a smile in response, the left corner of my mouth barely tilting up. We talked some more about the rock music we shared in our earphones. I had a lot of 80s hair metal and 90s grunge in my playlist. Bruce was not a Curt Cobain man but enjoyed the works of his legacy, Marcy Playground.

A tan hand wormed its way between me and Bruce, snatching a handful of banana slices and disappeared just as swiftly. “Tonyyy,” Bruce groaned, picking up another banana to replace the stolen pieces.

The spatula in my hand became a weapon as I blindly aimed at the target behind my back. A loud “ow” indicated I hit it. When I turned around, Tony was clutching the side of his face, a hurt look in his eyes and cheeks stuffed full of stolen goods. I stared him square in the face, absolutely refusing to acknowledge the fact that he was shirtless - the arc reactor glowed brightly in the middle of his toned chest. Fuck.

His chest was honestly what I was aiming for. I constantly kept forgetting how short he actually was. There was this one time when Tony had to put his arms around me to steady a piece of tech - he felt huge, hard and enormous around me.

“What’s that for, Princess?” He finally chewed through his food and found his voice.

“For being a Tony,” I retorted. “Stay away from my workspace and wait for your breakfast like everybody else.”

“Hey! This is my kitchen,” He whined immediately, like the adult man that he was. I nearly cried from how adorable his face became, eyebrows scrunched up. “I don’t want to wait! And why does he,” Tony’s finger accusingly pointed at Bruce, “Get the bananas?!”

“Because he’s Brucie-bear,” I stuck my nose up in the air when Bruce’s arm wrapped around my waist. “He’s my science father,” I stuck my tongue out at Tony, seeing Bruce’s triumphant smile. Banner used every opportunity to get back at Tony’s incessant sass.

The gleaming in Tony’s eyes should have alarmed me. “But he’s not your science daddy,” Tony’s flirting was accompanied by a salacious eyebrow wiggle and Peter’s screech of “OH MY GOD!"

It took me every ounce of willpower to not flush. It was one of those rare times that I was at a complete loss of words. Thinking on the spot, I gave a very meaningful look to Bruce - thankfully, he got the gist and returned an equally filthy smirk back. Tony gaped.

"Is this how they are in the lab?” The Captain’s quiet voice leaked horrified amusement.

“All.The.Time.” Peter’s resonating groan was followed by Romanoff’s laughter.

We went up to the lab after breakfast. Thankfully Tony stopped his dramatic bitching when I served him my pancakes, scarfing them down much like everybody else. So me and Pete were accompanied by one (1) happy engineer, all three of us tinkering away on a robot that we were supposed to present in our science class in a month. The focus that was required to solder was immense and our usual banter was missing, replaced by an occasional request for a specific tool or a water bottle.

It took a few hours to get the dirty job done even with Tony’s help (technically he wasn’t supposed to but neither me nor Pete had the heart to forbid him from it when the man looked so content and happy soldering away). By the time I uncurled from my spot on the bench, my back was in knots and my dress had oil stains and holes all over it. I immediately went to the nearest water bottle, finishing half of it in seconds, picking up my phone to see if I had any important messages from my mother.

None.

Just a message from Bruce.

I tapped on my phone, idly scrolling through the Instagram app, liking some pictures of people I barely knew and keeping up a general appearance of being very busy. When the ringtone started playing, it took me a whole five seconds to understand it was, in fact, coming from my phone - I certainly wouldn’t put something so… Outrageous as my main tone.

Banner had discovered the power of the internet. You Can Be The Boss played loudly, and it played from my phone and Bruce was calling me. I picked it up, turning around, fighting the incoming laughter. “Yes, Brucie?"

To say that Tony’s and Peter’s faces were scandalised was nothing. The boy’s face was such a deep shade of red, I started worrying about his blood pressure and Tony’s mouth hung open limply, like he was witnessing the second coming of Christ.

"Is Tony sufficiently traumatized?” Judging by the breathless tone of his voice, Banner was resisting a mighty laughing fit of his own.

“Oh, absolutely,” I happily chirped.

“Good, keep it up. Come to my lab before you leave,” Banner snorted and then, realising what he’d done, promptly hung up, the tell-tale beginning of a giggle fit abruptly interrupted by a dial tone.

I put the phone in my bag, gathering the rest of my things with a look somewhere between innocence and indifference. At least, I hoped it was - my mind kept jumping between the engineer’s ridiculously scandalised face and the way his mouth went slack, lips moist and soft and plush. That’s a very dangerous trail.

A very dangerous trail I couldn’t resist exploring in the solitude and privacy of my own bedroom, at home.

#bun writes #party favours #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x y/n #stephen strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n

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annetteblog · 4 years

Text

Intro & My take on KM

Hi!

I’m new around here so it’s supposed to be (not so short) introduction, since I don’t know how to start a blog heh. I hope to sprinkle my 0.5 cents into the KM conversation and maybe to bring a new perspective from someone, who is not a part of the typical English-speaking West.

Who /the hell/ Am I?

(please, consider it to be said with NJ’s voice from Intro: Persona :D)

I was born in Siberia (it’s in the Asian part of Russia), currently live in the European part of the country while studying at a Uni (European in terms of geography, not in terms of everything else i’m definitely not shading rn lolllll). English is not my first language, I’ve just kind of learnt it to some extent. Due to this it takes me more time to write a post; and I may (and will) make some grammatical & other mistakes. Plus I’m lazy AND busy with Uni, so I won’t even promise to be consistent in posting smth lol. But I thought I need more practice in terms of writing in English, so here I am, actually scribbling something. This feels weird, because I’ve been around stan Tumblr since 2015, but never ever interacted, just read.

How I ended up around Jikook/Kookmin (and BTS) & My (long&messy) take on this matter

Although I had heard of BTS before, I became an Army only in October 2018. I had kinda avoided them, because you know... boybands.... sing songs about romantic love and how they love girls.......... (+I had been around Twitter when 1D been at their peak and I remember a quite toxic community of fans, whom always had scared me). Shortly, hello stereotypes. Obviously, after I got engaged I felt terribly sorry that I had been sleeping on them, but what is done cannot be undone.

Someone I knew back then reposted one of their MVs and I, during my sad hours of procrastination, decided to watch it. Then I saw their live performance with the same song. And I thought “wow these guys can sing and dance and the music is kinda cool, i need to check this out maybe??”

Then a funny thing happened. One of the next videos I watched (the same person had it added to their page) was a 2016 BangtanBomb where JM and JK practiced their Coming of Age dance.

Do you know this moment with Gina from the 1st episode of Brooklyn 9-9:

Well, that was precisely me after I watched it. I don’t even know how to explain this, it was kind of a gut feeling? Whatever you call it, I started to get suspicious and couldn’t even explain to myself why. /actually now a do have questions to this vid and the main one - why does everyone cringe that much? if it’s a girly choreo than they had done some “girly” moves before. why is there such strong reaction??/

I started to get deeper and went to some ru-shipper communities. Shipping culture among Russian speaking fans is... well, weird to some extent, but I maybe address this topic some time later. You need to consider that (as far as you probably know) Russia is quite homophonic country and sadly is not the greatest place for LGBTQ+ community at the moment. The non-frienly influential attitudes hanging in the society + the general shippers’ weirdness = the result is not that nice honestly.

I struggled for some time in order to find more mature people (not just in terms of age but in general sanity), failed, ended up with some EXTREMELY toxic ru-fans of TK, which was/is the most popular pairing here, spent among them like 15 minutes and ran away horrified. After that I didn’t even try to engage with shippers or believers or whatever of any pair and just decided to enjoy the music and the content (which is a great idea, highly recommend!)

After a couple of days I discovered that JK makes videos. I love video, films and visual art so I immediately found them on YT, saw the titles with names of different cities from all over the world and was like “Oh that must be so cool, he’s visited so many outstanding places I’ve never been to, so I really need to watch it! I shall enjoy some beautyyy”. Then I clicked on GCFt.

Well, what can I say. I did enjoy some beauty, but not the type I had initially anticipated. The biggest clickbait in my entire life. JK should be proud of himself.

/as I said - the beauty/

I had already known Troy back then and I known the song’s lyrics so it would not be an underestimation to say - the video just blew my mind. I was like - hold on is this real? seriously?? no really really????? he manage to get away with something THAT obvious?????? dude how

As a person who edited videos AND is not a native English speaker, I don’t buy the explanation “oh he mustve didnt get the lyrics lmao”. You just don’t do that. You don’t. DON’T. You google and translate every shit you don’t understand, every word and idiom you’ve never encountered, because otherwise the possibility of an epic failure is very likely. You wouldn’t want to give your mum a video as a birthday present and then discover that you used a song with WAP-ish lyrics, right? (well maybe that would be okay in your family, I don’t judge, but that’s not the case for people I know). So don’t you dare to degrade JK’s intellectual capacities; such assumption is really offensive. He is a smart boii, he knows exactly what he’s doing in terms of his art.

So I was shocked, but decided to look for the context - maybe I missed some previous events regarding this Tokyo thing (another great idea - always check the context). Well, apparently I didn’t, because the whole narrative with the trip for two, lovely selfies etc. made my poor brain lowkey explode. (I still don’t buy the rings theory thing though)

But I didn’t give up lol! I’m a bit stubborn and it’s very hard to convince me in anything, so I decided to search for more context, more of their interactions, moreeee. Remember, the late October 2018, there were no swan lakes, RB, and even MMA18 hadn’t happened yet.

This time I ended up watching content in more or less consistent way, and when I saw all of these scenes with affectionate JM and a cool badass i-don’t-care-about-anyone-i’m-a-manly-man-with-no-feelings-whatsoever JK, I just hysterically laughed.

Homophobic Russia, remember? I recognized this. Growing up here being LGBT myself, taught me the same type behaviour during my high school days. When a girl I kinda liked but didn’t what to admit it to myself was nice to me or (oh god) flirted with me, I did something similar. It’s like a huge panic mode. Being an introvert doesn’t help either. The funniest thing is that you may not entirely realise what exactly is going on in terms of your own feelings, especially at that age (16-18ish). In my personal case, I thought I liked her but as a friend, only later to realise that well not as a friend oops :DDD The second thing (already not so funny) is that you actually consciously or unconsciously try to avoid the subject as much as possible, as long as possible and pretend that nothing is going on. We’re just bros. Stop doing this stupid gayish thing and don’t look at me like that, you’re annoying. If you ever do this again I (gently) kick you. I’m straighter than a straight line in my math textbook. IDK, but probably that’s your brain is somehow trying to protect you. Again, in my case&position I knew that the consequences for any non-straight person being outed would be bad (TW not to the point of being killed bad, but to the point of being excluded from a big part of society). So for me it was a mixture of the internalized homophobia + lack of self reflection + just being a bit emotionally slow + very! straight community around. Shit happens, I was a teenager and made my share of mistakes, but that experience helps me to recognize the same pattern of behaviour up to this day.

So coming back to KM, because the post is already waaay too long and I just ramble. It’s been 2+ years for me being a part of this fandom, and what can I say... Things become more intense and eventful with every year passing by ;) Funny how I felt that vibe from the 2016 dance practice video. Seeing the Black Swan performance a week ago almost had me choked, no joking. They are amazing.

Pure Art

However, and I would like to emphasize that, I do not incline that KM are 100% romantically involved and/or gay or whatever. I tend to treat people with respect and not to make too much assumptions about their private life. That’s not my business. However, I’m also not a fan of heteronormativity, so I’m just sitting here and observe everything that’s going on putting some distance and not forgetting being generally polite and critical thinking. But if they are just straightest besties please give them an Oscar before Grammy

Anyways, I hope this blog won’t kick the bucket from the very start and I will post something every now and then. You can always ask me questions about some BTS/Jikook related stuff or something about Russia and a Russian view on mass culture topics, since I’m pretty sure some of you have very stereotypical view of what is going on here :) However, do note that I’ve never been to America or Europe, therefore I may not be aware of something verrrry obvious to you or just have a completely different experience.

P.S. And yeah, I’m used to say Jikook, since it’s the name which is used much more frequently in Russian. i like it better and what will u do haha

#jikook #kookmin #what am i even doing here #i'm gonna regret this #long post

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oneyanderegirl · 4 years

Text

Desire

Genre: One-shot, Hurt/Comfort, Angst Rating: T Sasuhina Month 2020 Theme Day 7 (Desire)

A/N: I decided to skipped over Day 6. I swear I feel like every time I write, it gets longer and longer lol. Part of my one-shot series for Sasuhina Month 2020. You can read the other parts by going on my profile and clicking the fanfiction tab. They’re not written in a particular order since they are one-shots that are supposed to work as stand-alones, but there are hints here and there about when and where things take place. Anyways, hope you enjoy! Warnings: Mentions of death.

@sasuhinamonth (in case this doesn’t show up in the tags)

It began on a whim.

Sasuke did not anticipate becoming this involved in her life.

The woman named Hinata Hyuga was an odd mystery in his eyes.

They had known each other since childhood due to being born from the two biggest clans in Konoha. The Uchihas and Hyugas were famous for their rivalry as well as their prowess. He remembered attending several meetings with his family to socialize and discuss clan issues with the other prominent ones, including their rivals of course.

The adults had called it parties.

He called it boring.

But those days had long been over. The Uchihas had eventually died in cold blood because of the man known as Itachi Uchiha. He was one of the strongest shinobi to have ever lived in this world.

He was also Sasuke’s older brother.

Even that seemed like a far away memory now. Itachi was already dead. Sasuke had finally avenged his clan. Or that was what he had thought before he had found out the real reasoning behind his brother’s actions. The demise of the Uchiha clan was due to Konoha itself; they had been afraid of the Uchiha’s growing influence within the village and afraid of an uprising to overthrow the system in place. They had ordered Itachi to nip it before anything could take place. They had forced Itachi to kill his friends, lover, and even his own flesh and blood.

Yet despite the horror that his brother was forced to go through, Itachi’s last wish was for Sasuke to continue to protect the very village that had essentially killed the Uchiha.

He never understood why his brother would still want to protect the village after what they had done to their clan. It had left Sasuke with more questions than answers. He could never tell what his brother was thinking. It was something that Sasuke was still trying to figure out. It was why he had decided to leave Konoha to travel in the first place.

He needed time to think.

He needed time to ponder. There were too many things to do, too many things to figure out. He couldn’t stay in the village. He had to leave. He had to in order to find the answers he needed.

So Sasuke travelled.

He travelled wherever the wind blew. Whether it was far or near, he would go. He would explore and learn about the different cultures that existed. He had developed a habit of recording what he saw and what he learned. It had almost become a ritual at this point. Sasuke didn’t mind though, rather he found it calming and fulfilling to do so. It gave him a purpose.

A hawk landed on a rock where Sasuke was currently sitting. The bird ruffled its brown feathers before dropping an envelope in front of him. He reached into his brown bag to grab a piece of dried fish and tossed it to the bird as a reward for a successful delivery. Sasuke watched the hawk squawk in joy as he eagerly devoured the food before looking at the letter he had just delivered to him.

The letter was wrapped neatly in a lavender colored envelope with his name written nicely in the front. There was also a blue paper charm that contained pressed petals from a sunflower taped next on top of the envelope. Sasuke was quite perplexed by the gift as he was not expecting anything from her.

“ Sora, she’s quite persistent isn’t she?” He asked the hawk.

Of course, the hawk was much too busy enjoying his snack to respond.

Hinata Hyuga.

She was the heiress to the Hyuga clan, famous for her highly developed Byakugan. Although they had attended the same academy and became shinobi around the same time, the two of them were mostly strangers towards one another. His most prominent memory of her was her famously large crush on his best friend during their genin days. Other than that, Sasuke could not really recall much about the woman other than her heritage.

Yet for some reason, ever since the War had ended, she had constantly and desperately tried to seek him out.

He remembered that night when he had decided to visit Naruto to catch up about life and his travels, he had spotted her quietly watching them. At first, Sasuke had thought that it was his best friend who she had wanted to see, but then he noticed that she had kept staring at him instead. When he had finally finished talking with Naruto and started to leave, she had tried to follow him.

“ I...know this is a selfish request of mine, but...i-if it’s okay with you...I would like to see you again,” She asked between each breath.

Hinata slowly looked at the man towering before her. His cool expression gave away no emotion. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She wondered if it was a mistake to ask him.

“ What good will that do? We aren’t friends, Hyuga. I have no interest in doing so either. I have my own things that I have to do. If you want to grieve then do so at your own expense. Don’t come to me to do it,”

“ Please...Please, Sasuke-kun,” She whispered.

She begged him.

She begged as tears started falling from her tired eyes.

But Sasuke was already gone.

He quickly buried away the letter and the paper charm into his bag before starting to eat.

Sasuke was not stupid. He knew why she had seeked him out. It was like that when he had been hospitalized as well. She had seeked him over there too.

“ If you’re going to come in, then just do it already, it’s already late.”

Sasuke had felt a presence in front of his door. Surprised at who the person was behind the door, he made it known that he could tell she was there. He watched as Hinata slowly came into the room. He could make out the scrapes and bruises that had formed on her body from the War. What stood out the most though were her silvery eyes.

They held no light within them.

“ I never expected you, of all people, would come and visit.” He said.

His words held no malice nor its usual coldness. Sasuke felt tired after all. The War had just ended only a few days prior, yet his mind was still not at peace. He watched the woman sit on the floor and bury herself into her hands and knees. Perhaps she too was tired.

Tired of war.

Tired of death.

Tired of the corrupt world that existed.

Tired of living.

It didn’t matter though because in his eyes, Sasuke felt exhausted. He questioned the wish that his brother had left behind. Itachi had suffered due to Konoha, yet it was his dying wish for Sasuke to continue to protect it. Why? He couldn’t understand.

“D-do you think I’m being s-silly right now?” She suddenly asked.

Sasuke didn’t know what to say, so he decided to stare out the window to look at the moon. The moon was shining brightly in the sky, brighter than any of the stars. Yet despite the beauty it held, he could only think of how dull and lifeless the moon looked as it stood alone by itself in the vast darkness.

“ A-ah...Sorry. I know I sound a little strange right now. I apologize for disturbing you. I just had a lot on my mind lately. I’m sure you’ve heard that my...cousin had died.” Hinata tried to explain.

“ I know. I heard.”

Neji Hyuga.

A Branch member of the Hyuga clan. He was regarded as a prodigy, much like himself, during their academy days. Although he never did get to properly fight him, Sasuke respected the man. Even though he was of a lower class, Neji had worked hard to make himself strong. He was probably the strongest Hyuga of their generation. When Sasuke learned of his death, he felt that it was a shame the Hyuga never received the proper chance to prove himself. “ How do you deal with the pain of losing a loved one?” She finally asked.

Sasuke kept staring out the window for what felt like an eternity before turning to face her. Neji had died protecting the woman he considered a sister in a way similar to how Itachi had tried to protect Sasuke. Though the methods they had taken in doing so were different, ultimately, they both had ended up dying in order to protect their most precious person. Though he could not understand why either of them had decided to make such a sacrifice, Sasuke knew one thing.

“ We move forward. We have to live. We have to strive to protect them. If we can’t protect their physical bodies, then the least we can do is protect their ideals. It doesn’t matter how much you cry or suffer, you have to live anyways. If you don’t, then it just means their deaths were in vain. Don’t waste the life they gave you.”

The words that he had spoken were more for himself than it was for her, but Hinata still looked surprised at his words. They weren’t words of sympathy or pity. There were no apologies nor were there empty condolences within the words he had spoken. They were truly his own thoughts.

Words that he held in his heart because Sasuke knew that no one else would ever understand him. They would never understand the pain that he had to go through, the pain that he was still going through. The pain of not just losing a loved one, but of losing someone that had loved you more than anyone else in the world. More than their friends, more than their lovers, they had sacrificed their own lives due to the love that the two had held for them. That was how important Sasuke and Hinata were to their older brothers.

Perhaps that was why she had started crying when he had said those words to her.

She had cried and cried until there were no tears left. When the last of her tears were wiped, she had started to leave. She bowed to him before turning towards the door.

Sasuke didn’t know why she had decided to come to him for advice, but he knew that she was going through the same emotions that he had gone through. The grief that Hinata was experiencing was something that he was all too familiar with. For the first time, he felt something other than grief and rage bubble up inside of him. Perhaps the War had worn his heart out, but watching her cry had, in some ways, reminded Sasuke of himself.

It had reminded him of the loneliness he had felt as he watched his clan members die.

It had reminded him of the helplessness he had felt as he watched his parents be murdered in cold blood. It had reminded him of the pain he had felt as he watched his brother, the last remaining family member, perish into the heavens.

An experience that no one should have to endure alone.

“ Hyuga,” He finally called out, surprising both Hinata and himself.

The moment her pale grey eyes met his dark ones, Sasuke felt a sense of mutual understanding between them. An unspoken connection that had formed from their shared pain. Sasuke didn’t know why, but he felt the desire to comfort her in that moment. It was irrational of him to do so, it just wasn’t in his nature, yet that was the only conclusion he could come to as he tried to make sense of this unfamiliar feeling forming in his heart.

“ You’re not silly for feeling what you feel. Remember that.”

The only response she gave was a small smile before leaving his room.

Yet it was a smile he would never forget.

It had all begun at that point.

The night after he had rejected Hinata’s desire to see him again, Sasuke kept thinking back to the hospital. He kept thinking back to the moment they had shared together. Her smile, her tears, her expressions, they kept preoccupying his mind. The emotions he had felt watching her as she reminded Sasuke of himself in his own grief was a strange experience. The desire to comfort her was odd. So out of this desire that he couldn’t get rid of, Sasuke had decided to allow her to write letters to him.

To his surprise, Hinata had graciously accepted.

She would write about once a week to him. Sometimes the envelopes felt very bulky. Other times, it would feel like there was no paper at all. Although Sasuke never wrote back, she still continued to write to him.

He never bothered to read them. When his hawk would fly by to drop the letters, Sasuke would just bury it in his backpack and forget about them. He was much too occupied with his own things to worry about hers. Still, she never stopped writing to him. It soon became a routine for them, she would write to him, he would shove it in his bag and continue on the day. He didn’t mind, she didn’t seem to mind either. So Sasuke left it at that.

But you could only travel alone for so long before the sensation of loneliness sinks in.

-----

One day, after almost a year of travelling alone, almost six months since Hinata had started writing to him, Sasuke suddenly felt a wave of loneliness hit him. It was a starless night with the moon hidden away, Sora had already flown into the forest to rest for the night while Sasuke laid in his sleeping bag trying to sleep. He was only halfway through slumber when he had woken up from a nightmare.

Nightmares were common for the Uchiha. He first started having them after watching his parents die. It was something that Sasuke had learned to get used to over the years.

But it was especially bad tonight.

Knowing he couldn’t sleep any more, Sasuke stared at the vast sky. The forest was eerily silent tonight. Not a sound could be heard. Even the wind itself was still. The darkness felt like a black void waiting to ensnare him. All he could see was a vast abyss of nothingness.

There were no stars.

The moon had disappeared.

There was no light.

It was then that the thought finally hit him.

Sasuke was truly alone.

When was the last time he had talked to Naruto? When was the last time he had a decent conversation with his friend? When was the last time he had seen him in person?

When was the last time Sasuke interacted with someone?

He felt the palms of his hands become sticky with sweat. His heart rate had jumped up significantly from his own panicked thoughts. His throat felt dry. His breathing became shallow as if there was no air left to breathe. He felt his body tremble with fear as if there was a monster hidden somewhere in the forest.

But there was no monster.

There was no one.

He was alone.

Sasuke couldn’t stand it anymore. He felt the need to leave. He had to leave. He had to do something, anything, to get this chilling feeling out of his mind. Grabbing his bag, he quickly opened it to get a drink of water to quench his thirst.

However, when he looked inside, he stopped.

Letters.

He had forgotten about the letters.

All his previous thoughts had vanished when he saw the piles of letters inside his bag. All of his attention had shifted to the letters Hinata had written to him. He had never bothered to read a single one. He was not interested.

But now, perhaps due to the discomfort and panic that he was feeling, Sasuke slowly reached into his bag for one. He chose one of the lavender envelopes with his name neatly on it. His fingers gently brushed against the surface, feeling each delicate stroke she had written so elegantly to ensure that he knew it was addressed for him.

Then he slowly opened it, careful not to rip off a part of the letter.

And he began reading.

He never realized how much she had written to him.

Some of the letters were as long as five pages, others were as short as one paragraph, but within each letter, Sasuke could tell that everything Hinata had written came genuinely from her heart. She wrote to him about various things. From trivial things, such as what she had for lunch that day, to much deeper topics such as the regrets she had felt after her cousin had died, she wrote about them all.

Sasuke faithfully read through each one, making sure not a word was missed. He wasn’t sure why Hinata had written so much, but he found her words comforting in a way. It felt as if he was getting to know her little by little through each letter. Before he knew it, the panic he had experienced earlier had already dissipated along with the isolation that he had felt. The only thing left over was a sense of tranquility. A new profound peace that he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Perhaps the reason why he had helped her that night in the hospital and why he had decided to let her write to him wasn’t because he had wanted to comfort her. Rather, it may have been because deep within his heart, he knew that the one who had wanted to be comforted was himself.

After reading about half the letters, Sasuke finally felt exhaustion hit him. He decided he would finish reading them in the morning, so he neatly placed each one back into his bag before laying back down in his sleeping bag. The moment he laid down, he felt sleepy. A tiredness that felt relaxing rather than full of distress. And as Sasuke finally fell asleep, a new unfamiliar emotion started to grow in his heart.

It was desire.

A desire to see Hinata again.

#sasuhina #sasuhinamonth2020 #sasuhina month #shmonth2020 #personal #writing #AL #fanfiction #fanfics

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jackoshadows · 4 years

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I read something rather hilarious today and it made me realize that the fundamental issue for a lot of A Song of Ice and Fire fans is that they are not sure what they want Sansa to be.

Sansa stans proclaim her as being the most intelligent character in the series but then get angry when readers criticize her actions because she is just a naïve, innocent little girl who does not know any better. Any criticism of Sansa in the first book is mainly because Arya and Jon are biased against her due to jealousy and is not in anyway indicative of who Sansa really is. She has no flaws and is perfect as is at the start but also she is a great character because she has tremendous character growth over 5 books and learns and changes so much.

I recall an Arya post I made once about Arya’s traditionally feminine characteristics and mentioned a book canon fact that Arya was better than Sansa at managing a household. This immediately got me a triggered Sansa stan in the comments who claimed that I – and Arya - was wrong about this and that Sansa was the expert in household management since that was her forte. Despite me and several others pointing out that Arya’s extroverted nature and friendliness with the Winterfell working staff meant that she could manage them better, we were accused of ‘demonizing’ Sansa for implying that Sansa did not enjoy interacting with the smallfolk.

This is how the Sansa stan metas about how Arya would have never survived KL came about – from a need for Sansa to excel in an area where Arya could not. So despite Arya having survived Harrenhal by keeping silent and enduring abuse and despite Sansa impulsively trying to push Joffrey off a bridge (only prevented by the Hound), we were constantly told that Arya would have been killed off in KL while Sansa survived using her wits and ladylike demeanor. This school of thought was so widespread that it actually made it’s way into the TV show – a prime example of how Sophie Turner and D&D were basing Sansa off Sansa stan metas on the internet instead of the actual books that GRRM wrote.

Let’s take the most prominent example of this clash of viewpoints regarding Sansa – her being the smartest character in the books. Something that the TV show audience was hit over the head with using a huge hammer and we got basically any character introduced on the show literally looking at the camera and telling us – ‘Sansa is the smartest’

Right at the start of book one Robb, Jon and Arya view Joffrey as a vain, pretentious ‘little shit’ from observing his behavior. Sansa is the lone exception who thinks highly of him. Even after watching Joffrey sadistically mutilate Mycah and attempt to injure/kill Arya, Sansa sides with him over her family. We are told by Sansa stans that a) she is just a naïve, innocent girl and b) she is cleverly siding with her future in laws and also trying to protect Arya from her stupidity of sticking up for a low class butcher’s boy.

Sansa tattling all of Ned’s plans to Cersei is also blamed on Ned rather than the person who actively made the decision to betray her father just so she could marry Joffrey and become queen. Let’s see what Sansa knows at this point - Cersei Lannister ordered that Sansa’s pet direwolf Lady be put to death for something that she played no part in. Jaime Lannister has killed Stark men and run off. Ned tells her the following:

Father’s mouth twitched strangely. “Sansa, I’m not sending you away for fighting, though the gods know I’m sick of you two squabbling. I want you back in Winterfell for your own safety. Three of my men were cut down like dogs not a league from where we sit, and what does Robert do? He goes hunting.”

“Sweet one,” her father said gently, “listen to me. When you’re old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who’s worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong. This match with Joffrey was a terrible mistake. That boy is no Prince Aemon, you must believe me.”

To the girls he said, “I am looking for a fast trading galley to take you home. These days, the sea is safer than the kingsroad. You will sail as soon as I can find a proper ship, with Septa Mordane and a complement of guards... and yes, with Syrio Forel, if he agrees to enter my service. But say nothing of this. It’s better if no one knows of our plans. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

Ned let’s Sansa know that it’s dangerous in KL for both girls, that he was sending them home for their safety and to not let anyone know about their plans. What more should Ned explain to his 11 year old daughter to get her to comply? Should he explain to her the complicated politics of KL before she deigns to obey him? Should she have the basic intelligence to acknowledge that her older, wiser father knows better than her about these things and follow his orders? Or should she go tattle to Cersei despite knowing what the Lannisters have already done against her family?

Oh, but Sansa is just a naïve, innocent little girl. But Sansa is also so intelligent.

When Ned loses his head at the end of book one, Sansa finally realizes that the Lannisters are not the good guys – something that the rest of her siblings figured out in like the second chapter of the books. And Sansa stans are like – wow, Sansa is so smart now! She’s like the smartest Stark. Sansa then proceeds to trust the Tyrells - because they are good looking and charming and charismatic - while they play her to get power over the Lannisters. But she’s so smart! Sansa then trusts Dontos who is LF’s tool. But she’s so smart! Dany and Jon are so stupid as leaders – look at all their mistakes. But Sansa - she thought that one time about how she was going to make the people love her when she becomes queen – surely the best ruler/queen in the books!!

But this is all in the previous 3 books. Let’s look at the most recent Sansa in the Vale. Any growth? Which brings me to the hilarious post I read today and Sansa’s conversation with Maester Coleman.

Maester Coleman clearly tells Sansa that these high doses of Sweetsleep is dangerous for SweetRobin in the long term . No ifs, buts or maybes about it. And it’s clear that Sansa knows this considering it’s right there in the text – “Maester Coleman cares only for the boy though. Father and I have larger concerns” . While Coleman is talking to her about his worry for SR’s health, Sansa is pondering over how much she likes to dance and whether she should give it a try as Alayne. And when Coleman, once again hesitates at the end, Sansa basically threatens him with LF – take it up with the scary boss man. Nowhere in the text does she herself evince any concern for SR’s health or express doubts about the effects of sweetsleep on SR.

But we are once again informed by asoiaf experts/Sansa stans that Sansa is just a naïve, innocent 13 year old and like they did with Ned, blame Maester Coleman for not explaining it to her in more detail. Sansa does not have google or Wikipedia you guys! – how can she know that Maester Coleman is right? It’s not like his qualifications as Maester is relevant or anything.

I mean, Jon Snow at the wall – the character who is often mocked for being stupid and knowing nothing in contrast to smart Sansa by tumblr – should not have taken any of Maester Aemon’s advice without looking up what ‘kill the boy and let the man be born’ on Wikipedia and only then follow that advice. It’s not like Maesters have trained and learned about these things at the Citadel or anything.

So we are back to excusing Sansa’s actions because she is the innocent, naïve, little 13 year old who is not aware of sweetsleep being dangerous for SweetRobin and it is all the Maester’s fault because he did not explain it to her properly and Sansa should not just take a physician’s word at face value without checking up on it with Wikipedia first and that’s not available to her.

Oh, but also Sansa is super smart now. Smartest Stark, best ruler, most compassionate and maternal etc.

This is basically the dichotomy that we are going to continue to see from Sansa stans as Sansa starts to become more LF like in the books – she is after all currently learning from him, following his orders and thinking that he knows best about all things – even where SweetRobin is concerned.

And Sansa fans want her to be the expert player of the games – from pawn to player – is how they see her endgame. But the expert players of the game – Littlefinger, Varys – are not good people. They betray, backstab, employ treachery, destroy families. If Sansa wants to join their ranks and play the game, then she is going to have to get her hands dirty and do some not so nice things.

And that is not going match up with the Sansa stan viewpoint that Sansa is essentially a very good person who only does bad things because older, wiser people don’t explain things properly enough to nice, innocent naïve little Sansa. It’s going to be fun seeing all the mental gymnastics they do as they try to justify Sansa’s actions as being both super smart and also because she is naïve and innocent. Sansa does not know, she does not have Wikipedia is already one of the most hilarious excuses I have read today.

And this is why show Sansa was such a mess and there was such a huge dissonance between what we are told by the cast/crew about the character and what is shown on the screen. We are told that she is a compassionate, non-ambitious, non-power hungry character – and yet she is written as LF 2.0. We are told that she is the smartest ever while all the time she is written as being an utter moron deliberately sabotaging her brother when he is trying to save the North from an apocalyptic threat. We are told that she is a super politician/diplomat while she is written as a spoiled child brat needlessly antagonizing a much needed ally. We are told that she loves her family (Lone wolf dies etc.) but she is written as betraying them for power.

Sansa fans – like D&D and Sophie Turner for ex. – have an image of her which is contradicted by the writing but they are unable to reconcile these halves and so we end up with nonsensical, garbage characters like show Sansa and hilarious justifications of her actions on the internet from her fans.

#I read something funny today that I seriously thought was a joke post #But then I realized they were being serious #anti Sansa stark #anti Sansa #anti sansa stans #anti GOT #anti D&D #This is about book Sansa but has to be tagged anti Sansa because Sansa fans think that book Sansa is anti Sansa

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lideria · 4 years

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Lost in Yesterday. | Jeno (POV shift)

Request:��helllooo!! i just read lost in yesterday and it so heart-wrenchingly beautiful that i must ask; is it possible for you to make the same fic but in jeno's point of view?

Author’s Note: I tried and I’m not mad at it! Keep in mind that I’ve done a write-the-same-fic-but-from-a-different-pov thing for the first time ever in my life, I’m suggesting you take this piece with a pinch of salt please and thank you! Plus, this was kind of hard to write? As in, I had a clear vision of Jeno’s character and feelings but when it came to expressing them it was really difficult. (and that’s on my alexithymia lads)

Important: If you want this piece to fully make sense, I’d highly suggest you read the reader’s pov and the backstory.

Warnings: Swear words, brief mentions of suggestive themes, mentions of war, mentions of heartbreak, mentions of family distress/unhealthy relationship, themes of manipulation, themes of confusion. English is my second language so there might be errors, please let me know if there is more that I should add!

Word Count: 4.003 again, like the first part, idk why but that’s so satisfying to me.

Genre: MUCH ANGST SUCH WOW, royal!au, rivalkingdoms!au, loverstoenemies!au

Hope you all enjoy it, loves! And anon, I hope this lives up to your expectations! Stay safe and healthy, and take care of yourselves for me 💚

Jeno gets done with writing his notes down with an exhausted breath through his nose.

The conference is stretching out and it is only the first day out of the three. There are demands from every monarchy aimed towards him and his rule. Every single letter that leaves his mouth is a step on the mighty thin ice that is the peace between the nations, one that must be protected at all costs, and he recognizes that. And he tries to meet everybody’s needs and wants. Figures that is the least he can do to ensure the continuity of this peace.

But in reality, he knows most people in the room would like to tear his monarchy apart in pieces if they were given the opportunity. That intimidates him even though he tries to hide the fact that it does.

As years go on after the war he expects the requests to get lighter. But they do not— if anything, they get heavier and even more challenging to provide. Even though he gets further into his life as the primary ruler and collects more experience.

And if there is anybody that gives him a particularly difficult time, it is you.

He has to watch you every year. He has to watch you stand up from your seat and take a deep, heavy breath as you link your hands and shut your eyes momentarily before proceeding with your speech. He has to see you do anything and everything to avoid looking at him as you speak up about what the monarchies and the governments must do to ensure the safety of peace the upcoming year, word out your opinion on the political problems that are the agendas for the session and your share of possible solutions that are up for a debate, and see the way you look forward frozen in place as you talk about the matters that regard his kingdom specifically. Even when you talk about the espionage, and the soldier you still could not hand over to his rule since his judicial process was yet undecided, you would not look at him. Never. Not a single time in years.

Yet, he cannot take his eyes off of you. Not for a single second, watching you as you act like the powerful and strong monarch he always knew you would come to be. It makes him proud.

The only thing— person— that pisses him off is the King. The man that took your hand in eternal marriage months, almost a year ago now, that was once your personal guard. The King that was once his friend, the only man outside royalty and his staff that he could share a laugh with, as well as a heart-to-heart conversation. Jeno does not hate him. But he hates the fact that Donghyuck gets to sit next to you and deliver speeches with you in this conference, and he hates that he can do it so well— matching your, a person who was born into the royal world, level of knowledge and confidence after such a short amount of training and education when Jeno had to pave the way for himself with his nails and teeth from day one. He hates that he gets to eat with you and see you from the moment you awake to the moment you go to sleep.

But when he finishes taking his notes and the conference goes into a break with the tired sighs leaving nearly everyone’s mouths, he can see you make your way to the doors opening to the balcony after a couple of words with your husband. Who, to his great surprise, does not accompany you because, to his great pleasure, a representative starts speaking to him.

Jeno knows this would be the right moment to talk to you. To tell you. Because you deserved to know.

So he follows you promptly, grooming his attire before making his way out.

The palace guards open the door for him, and he can already spot you, leaning on the parapet slightly. Your hair sways with the ocean breeze. He takes a second, not more nor less, to watch the way it does, because it is the most peaceful sight he has seen in a long time.

And then he walks over to you with his hands placed on his back. There is a growing tension as he does, he can feel it, but he feels fine. He is in control of every atom in his body. You, not so much. He can basically see the way you stiffen up when he stands beside you.

So he tries to ease you into the conversation. Jeno puts a smile on his face, partly because he finally gets to talk to you after all the years. “It’s a pretty day here,” The contentment is apparent through his words. He does his best at trying to sound welcoming but it still feels weird to be talking to you directly after all this time.

“It is.” Your voice sounds colder than the winter nights he spent traveling through the roads to get to you and your secret meetings. The signal gets across— you do not want anything to do with him. Hell, you sound more enthusiastic in the conference room doing politics.

Jeno knows you do not want to have anything to do with him. If it ever came to your defense, you had made that much sure when you spit the words take your men and never come back with all the disappointment and spite onto his face years ago, on that faithful night that ultimately caused all of this to happen according to the butterfly effect. But he does not give up on the opportunity to speak to you. Even if it will make you feel uncomfortable.

Because he knows how it feels when you do not get the news beforehand.

With a breath for starters, he turns his head to face your profile. You look so familiar, he smiles. “I need to tell you something, if you would hear me out.”

Either his words hold a weight to them heavier than he would ever like to make them out to be or you are so sick of him that you want him out, out of this area of peace or out of this world; out of your eyesight and out of your heart and mind because the way you breathe is almost concerning. That is, if he had not known you like the back of his hand still. You nod, and Jeno sees your eyes fixed on the harbor, where a carrier ship is being loaded. He can remember setting foot onto the pier during the war with his father.

It was the very place his father had smiled to him genuinely for the first time, and had landed his heavy hand on his shoulder, before telling Jeno how proud he was of him and his strength. He remembers having actual conversations during dinner for once, about what they would do with the land and how they would develop the towns and such without his father shutting him up even once. That very harbor was the first place Jeno’s father had listened to him and what he wanted. The first place he had acknowledged him as his son that needs to be heard rather than the Prince who needs to be educated and trained until he is perfect, and it was not even their home.

And then Jeno had given the city up as an area of peace once the war had ended shortly after his father’s passing. It seemed like the right thing to do although he knew his father would not have liked it.

Lost in the nostalgia of everything, the need to look into your eyes grows bigger. “Can you look at me as you hear me out then?”

Although he is very impatient, he relaxes the words as he speaks them out. He wants you to know that he respects your choice, even though love is not prominent in whatever it is the two of you have. And if your choice happens to be pretending like he is not there as you let him speak to you, that is fine too.

But you turn your face to look at him. Like the good monarch you are. Ready to face the past and the present and, as being a monarch demanded, the future.

But he sees something falter immediately. Truthfully, he sees many things falter immediately. He sees doubt and longing and nostalgia that is much like the one he had been experiencing just now. The look in your eyes are like ancient ruins to him: it looks so familiar, he knows what it means, yet it is impossible to make it into what it once was. Jeno chuckles even though he tries to help himself not to, because he sees it.

There is some sort of care in you for him still. Even after everything.

He almost feels this giant lightness, something so big it can swallow him whole, wash over him, but he brings himself back to the world so quickly that it is like the feeling never even existed. If anything, this made things harder to tell.

It is a pity that he cannot bring himself to care all that much, but he internally justifies it by telling himself you had not showed him half the mercy he has been showing you, months ago. “I’m to be wedded this winter.”

Shock covers your eyes. The kind that tells him you are clearly dumbfounded. But that only lasts for a few seconds before he sees it shift into hurt, and your breath hitches as the look in your eyes shifts. “Oh.”

The shaky response pulls a string on his heart only you can pull and it is hard to not give into it; maybe, just maybe, he would have given into it, had you not turned your face away from him back to the harbor before he could. It gets him feeling somewhat angry, though. He was being considerate of you, and he was being considerate of what you two had in the past, and he was being considerate of your right to know. All three of which you had not been considerate of when it was him that should have listened to you, and now you would not even face him after facing him. After showing him you can do it. He cannot understand that. “With all due respect, your Majesty, haven’t you been married for months now? I cannot understand your response,” He calls you out with every bit of frustration in him, laughing lightly in the hypocrisy you seem to be showing. “Especially when I’ve taken the time to tell you about it.”

“Everything was over with, I wasn’t obliged to tell you.” Your attacking defense comes just as he finishes what he is saying, but he can tell that even you do not believe yourself all that much. There must have been a mutual respect. Jeno would like to believe that you too had loved him magically and wonderfully like he feels he had loved you, and if you did, then there should not have been an excuse for him to not know until it happened.

With his own fair share of hurt now, he turns to look back at the town he once ruled, with his once-lover. But he does not dare drop his hands, or his shoulders, or his smile— like his father had taught him. If you stand straight enough, you will be strong. If you keep your head high enough, you will be stronger. And if you smile long and hard enough, nothing and no one will be able to break you, my son.

As he looks down he wonders if the shoemaker remembers him, because he is wearing his shoes today. Actually, he is wearing the pair that used to be his father’s. He had never used them or cherished them the way his son did, whereas Jeno had made sure he wore them until they lost any shape they held.

“Who are they?” His ear perks a bit at your question, and he looks at you from the side of his eyes, smile widening ever so slightly. “A princess,” He figures you would like the answer instantly. “From one of the state kingdoms. You must’ve seen her at least once, but I hardly think you know her name.” Maybe you did, but he would not bother telling you. You would be learning about her soon enough.

“Do you love her?”

Everything stops. You stop breathing, his heart momentarily stops beating, the world seems to halt.

Do I love her the way I loved you? No. Never. That is really hard to do, and for that matter, I do not think I will ever be able to love someone like I loved you. I may have kissed her, but never have I once ever got the same sparkling feeling on my lips or the warm feeling in my chest like I did with you. I may have hugged her, but not once did I feel like she would be able to catch me the way you did if I fell. I may have sobbed in front of her, but I never gave her the key for the lock on my mouth and just let her hug me into her chest as I kept everything inside— sometimes you inside. I may have danced with her, but only because she makes it easy to dance with the way she moves around. I may have let her sob in front of me and listened to her struggles, but no matter how hard I tried, I could not listen to her struggles as deeply as I had done with yours. I may have shared my body with her, and accepted hers, but only because she is in love with me and has told me herself that she is ready to accept me the way I am; once too in love to ever be in love again. But I care about her enough to take her hand in marriage and have children with her, because she might be the only one to love me ever again, and I respect her for it. “I presume we can say that. She’s the bearer of my child— the heir to my throne, after all. That must mean something.”

Jeno only looks at you again because of the deep, aching breath you take and the intense inhaling sound it makes. Your face is once again turned away from him, not even looking at the harbor anymore, just anywhere but him. Your body shivers only for a short amount of time, maybe a few seconds, before it stops and when it does, he can see your eyes from the side.

He knows that look. He would know that look anywhere at anytime, even if he forgot his own name. It is the same look you had given him when you looked at him for the last time. Hurt, broken, betrayed and so, so disappointed. And this time you would not look at him. “We could have been amazing.”

The way you say it, and the way your head tilts slightly in disappointment before going back to how it was, makes Jeno feel like a monster.

Because he feels the same way. You really could have been amazing.

He could have been the one to properly ask you to marry him, because with Donghyuck he was sure you had asked first, even though he once asked you in private, and you had asked him also. He could have been the one to hold your hands at the altar and to tell you he would love you day and night and in sickness and health and would have meant it. He could have kissed you in front of the thousands of guests, he could have been the one prompting the thunderous applause that followed, the one that he had learned from one of his close friends that cared enough to call him to tell him about it— your wedding. He could have cried after seeing you in your beautiful attire.

Jeno could have taken the oath with you. He could have taken a knee before you with the cape around his shoulders and the crown on his head. He could have hosted many royal balls with you, to dance with you again and again until you hated dancing. He could have gotten lost with you in palace gardens to reminisce the old days. He could have imagined the idea of having heirs with you, and he could have grown old with you.

He could have made you happy. He could have taken you to the forests he knew you loved more than anything, he could have played snow fights with you in the never-ending snow, he could have gotten lost in the library countless times with you as you read novels. He could have played guitar to you, and serenaded you with moonlight hitting your cheeks. He could have dragged you to the palace kitchen and the two of you could have made your own meals with all your staff, making them laugh with the way you act— dancing, singing, laughing, smiling, kissing, putting sugar instead of salt, stupidly in love— and at the end you could have had grand meals with your staff and their families. Could have established a festival celebrating your love and the unity of the two of the biggest reigns.

But that is the point. These are things that could have happened. Amazing is something the two of you could have been, not what you were supposed to be. He had his duties, and he had his family, and he had his people that he had to protect. The same went for you. And during the war, your stances were different from one another.

So it was maybe for the best that what once was ended when it did. Maybe, if what could have been actually came to be, it would have gone worse, like his father had suggested him. Maybe the two of you would have used one another, like his father had suggested him. Maybe you would betray him, like his father had suggested him— and you did, because you acted like he never existed. Did not tell him anything, did not look at him, threw your experiences out the window just like that.

Maybe, just maybe, his father was right.

Yet, if he was, why did Jeno feel like the world was against him and he was all alone? Truly, and utterly alone, save for the soon-to-be queen?

He watches a tear run down your cheek, and sees you biting at your lip, and he thinks why? Why are you so upset by this? Are you really all disappointed? Did you have the right to be?

Jeno keeps on smiling. If he smiles long and hard enough, nothing will be able to break him.

The balcony doors open, and he knows who it is that is coming. This scenario has happened many times already, before he was the King but a guard, and usually he would tell you either that he had spotted royal photographers nearby and that you have to move, or that things were starting to get suspicious, anything of that sort. But now he did not know what Donghyuck might say or do, which is unsettling to him.

Without even making his presence known first, Donghyuck places a hand at your waist, and Jeno notices how you do not get surprised. “Dear,” He does not see even a bit of the discomfort on your face that you had on your face when he first approached you. Jeno is incredibly envious of that, and he must be glaring at your husband, because he turns to look at him in such a way. He can feel Donghyuck accusing him of screwing everything up yet again, and he can hear him asking what is wrong with him, what part of ‘never’ do you not understand?

Donghyuck looks at him only for a flash, but Jeno understands what he has to say.

He sees you lean against him slightly. “Shall we go inside? We can go get you something.” No, do not go yet, not now. I want to make things right with you.

If he only knew that he would never be able to do it.

You actually nod at Donghyuck without much consideration, which is almost bad enough in itself, but then you hold his hand, which seems to just emphasize everything Jeno did not like— and everything that once made him feel bad. And it infuriates him to see.

But it should not. Because he does not love you anymore. You cannot break him if he does not love you anymore.

He watches as you leave, wanting to be relieved, yet not quite able to feel that way. And he hates to admit it but there is hope in him, flickering in his chest much like a candle light in the wind, when you turn back around to him with Donghyuck.

“Send an invitation for us, too,” You say to him. Gentle and kind, and strong, despite your disappointment and hurt. Slightly, he sees you raise your chin a little to keep your composure as well, and he thinks of his father’s words. How true they are. “Our monarchs must be better than abandoning each other on their best days. Let us host you in our palace once honeymoon is over, which I hope is enough to make up for my mistake.”

It is not, he thinks. It is not enough. How do you expect me to come to your palace, where so many of our memories of love— kissing, hugging, listening to each other, seeing each other, looking deep into each other’s eyes, whispering sweet nothings and sometimes all that we know will keep the other one going, hiding from the photographers and the guards and your family and anyone who can catch us, adoring each other, cherishing each other, making love to each other, dreaming of the future will haunt the two of us, and be there with my wife that knows I will not love her fully like I did with you, and your husband that you have a deep enough relationship with that you give in to his support? How do you expect me to sit at the same table with you, knowing you told me to never come back and yet you invited me back? Knowing you would not even look into my eyes after all this time no matter how much you try? How do you expect me to look at you and see you when you will not do the same for me and expect it to be enough in return for your erasure of me and our memories?

He sees you smile, and once again you are eye to eye with him. “And if you do not, then I wish all the happiness to you and the queen, your Highness.”

You blow the flickering light in his chest.

Not your Majesty, no. You do not call him that, the title for the Kings and the Queens, and any primary rulers, but instead you call him your Highness. The title for the heirs. The name you would be calling him years ago, before he did any of what he did, before the two of you became what you have become.

You remind Jeno, with a sure and firm voice, that you do not, and you will not recognize the person he is today.

And when you turn your back and proceed with your way inside amongside Donghyuck, he cannot help himself as his shoulders drop— ruining his perfect posture for the first time since whoever knows how long.

Suddenly, Jeno cannot find it in himself to smile anymore.

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno x reader #nct dream #nct jeno #lee jeno #jeno #it's a jeno fic we get it honey you can stop now #donghyuck #lee donghyuck #haechan #nct haechan #fic: lost in yesterday

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vicky-shitposts · 3 years

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reflections

19th Feb 2021,

last night was crazy. me and zoe finally made up, and when i was telling her about my giant pyramid project in minecraft, she said she's going to move into it with me - girl really likes to keep me on my toes. she also wore a beanie and a flannel and the gay inside me exploded. had to remind myself that i am, in fact, not in love with her. finally got around to watching Name Of The Doctor too, but it was really hard to see it through my crying; totally worth it, and seeing Walter Simeon hold the Doctor's face uh, did something for me. Phoebe was also kind enough to check out all of Inner Mechanism for me and was a total darling about the whole thing. they also "green lit" the project for me, so now it's all systems go to add the final perfecting touches. first proper teaser went on my instagram: "this is my sacrifice, this is my exile". might do the second one later today, "watch this space..."

sipping coffee, painting my nails black and watching interviews. about two hours ago i was lost in tiktok, just scrolling mindlessly with not a single hope or care in the world. it was really nice and felt like a trance. a year ago today, the world was normal and calm and i was in wales. i went to see my best friend at the time, as well as her girlfriend, but the entire fiasco turned into a shambles; in short, i just felt like i wasn't wanted there after completely running myself down and investing my own time and money to get there. i stopped speaking to her a few weeks after as a result, but she came back out of nowhere last month and messaged me for some reason. i haven't got to the bottom of why or what happened, part of me is too scared to hear the truth. i haven't spoken to her in a while. i have an unread message from her, so i think i should drop a line and say "a year ago today i was with you, you were with your ex and the world was stable".

finally read some more of my fucking book at last!! did so while listening to Who Am I? - Pale Waves yet again. enjoyed it a lot more this time around. was speaking to Lyndon a few days back, saying how i often get bored with new albums around halfway through; Who Am I? is only 33 minutes long mind you, which doesn't constitute an album runtime in my "professional" opinion - i've made some money from my music which constitutes me as professional, right?? back to my point at hand. it flowed a lot better this time and it didn't leave me feeling bored by the second half. it flew by and again was a perfect reading soundtrack, thought i did prefer it the last time when it was executed within a moving vehicle. a friend of mine called James also checked out my Underworld single yesterday, said he really liked it and loved the beat, which really meant a lot.

lego set arrived and oh god, is it beautiful. it's so big!! and it comes with a couple other things beside the main rocket itself; it's so cute, so cool and so worth the money!! Iron Lady also came today, so once the night crawls in i'll be sitting down to watch it. who's gunna take bets on if im gunna cry or not?? but lyndon did say if i cry over a Margaret Thatcher film, it makes me a tory - rahhhh that's actually so peak fam :///

i can see why Meryl Streep was highly regarded in The Iron Lady. but while she does play the part extremely well, i couldn't help but feel so upset and distressed by the film. i'm a history student and hear about things in passing, like the cold war and the falklands war; none of which have never been taught to me at school, and therefore i have no clue of any detail concerning them. after seeing this film, i can only assume that thatcher had a huge role to play in the falklands war. to see so much terror, death and bloodshed under the reign of one woman?? this is the past history of the place that i was born and live in, and it disgraces me. this was supposed to be about the life of a woman but with so many explosions, acts of terror, stock footage of people fighting police officers, buildings on fire and people bleeding on the street... what have i come from?? this woman served under the same party as we have here and now, and it made me start to think. what if people retaliated against boris johnson in the same way?? what if his second in command was blown up, or a hotel he stayed at was bombed?? it's scary to think the power that people have, and when they upset the public, how hard they fight back. and if thatcher was the reason for all of those explosions and deaths, then i feel ashamed. i can understand why people despise her and her party. were discussing the idea of "what is history?" in one of our first history lessons last year, and we concluded that it is to record the errors of the past to ensure that we don't make the same mistakes in the present or the future. to learn from our past for a better future. i hope that above all, we have learnt from our past and never experience anything similar. i couldn't handle it in the film, so god only knows how i would take the real thing. but i can tell you here and now - hope is the only thing keeping me going.

i want to conclude today with some quotes that i have recently discovered and fell in love with: "the name you choose is like a promise" - Doctor Who; "i love being called a bastard. it somehow implies that the most heinous thing i have done is exist" - Lord Byron.

#reflection #mirror #photography #black and white #duality #diary #diary entry #sad #lonely #down #aesthetic #selfie

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traumatized-motherfuckers · 3 years

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Stress-based sickness, psychosomatic disorders, and the F word. Fibromyalgia.

Read up or listen up @t-mfrs.com (podcast available wherever you stream.)

Waking up, like I didn’t sleep for weeks. Falling asleep after five minutes on my feet. A pounding head. That sense of dread. Sticky sharp pains through in my shoulders and neck. Brain short on energy, missing a few cards from the deck. Waves of nausea and stomach cramps. Chills and sweats, depending on the body amps. Swollen lymph nodes. Muscle weakness poorly bodes. Insatiable hunger but nothing sounds edible - shit, now desire to throw up is incredible. Eyes shriveling, dry, back into my skull. The aches in my legs, pulsing and dull. Foggy thoughts. Racing heart. When will this end, why did this start?

Did I finally catch the ‘rona? Or am I just past my limit for being stressed out again? Well, I just moved, so this time I know that the answer is very likely… stressed.

So who wants to talk about getting sick? Yeah, among this group, the answer might be surprising. A lot of us do.

Why? Not because we love bitching and complaining when we feel less than ideal - spoilers, that’s every day, there’s really nothing left to say about the raging shit storms inside of us after a few years of it. We’re tired of hearing about it, too… just like we’re tired of living it, feeling it, and fearing it.

No, for us, it’s because it feels like there’s always a surprising ailment right around the corner when we least expect it. One that seemingly has no logical basis or reasonable solution. One that no one else understands. One that feels like it’s born of mental illness, somehow, while being very physically present. One that we don’t even bother bringing to doctors anymore, because no one needs to be shamed and shoved out the door again by their flippant disinterest in anything we say after the words, “Yes, I have anxiety.”

Yep. If you haven’t tried to mingle mental health with western medicine before, let me give you a quick disclaimer: unless you’re missing an arm, don’t bother. In my experience, the only thing you’ll get is an eye roll, possibly a prescription bandaid that somehow makes you feel worse, and a bored recommendation to see a psychiatrist - even if you already do.

All of this, of course, has the effect of only making you feel more upset. First, mentally, as you ruminate over the disrespect of essentially being called a liar just because the doctor doesn’t have enough training. Then, physically, as your increased stress and systemic arousal pushes your body into a new level of overdrive.

Oh, was it a mindfuck just to make the doctor appointment, get yourself there, and deal with the social anxiety of a waiting room for 30-120 minutes? I bet it felt great for someone to then invalidate your health concerns, recommend you calm down, and send you out the door without even looking you in the eye. Feeling more upset, now on a highly emotional basis? Enjoy the shame, hypertension, and lost sleep, as if you needed any more of that.

Today, I want to talk about the stress-central area of my health that hasn’t been completely figured out… and the label that I - embarrassingly - just recently learned is highly applicable to my physical condition.

But also, the outrage that I feel over said label, because, well, it explains nothing. In fact, if anything, it probably does all of us a huge disservice after we’re granted this diagnosis by pushing us into the express lane for being written off. It also separates two issues that are poorly explained, rather than combining them into one full picture that might actually yield answers. Oh, and should I mention that I think this is a larger problem of gender bias in the healthcare system? Yeah, why the fuck not. Might as well air all my grievances as a nice lead-in to another upcoming episode; is mental illness diagnosis skewed by gender?

I don’t want to let my pounding head and aching shoulders deter me too much, so let’s just get started.

History of ailments

I’ve talked about this before, but to briefly cover how fucked up this body is… let’s take a trip back to 2013 when my system failed me out of the blue. And by “out of the blue,” I mean that I had chronically overworked myself running on anxiety, obligation, and starvation for 2 years, leading to physiological revolt.

So, looking back, “duh.”

But at the time? This was all-new. It was crisis-inducing and beyond comprehension that I went from a perfectly healthy, physically resilient, surprisingly strong and low maintenance specimen to a chronically pained, systemically ill, digestively impaired, and constantly exhausted sack of wallowing self-hated.

After a lifetime of zero health concerns, I found myself bedridden and obsessed with every weird thing my body was doing to me. Which, as you’ve probably guessed, came hand in hand with the new weird things my brain was doing to me.

You’ve probably heard the “What IS CPTSD?” episode by now, so I’m guessing you’re not a stranger to the details about the common emergence of complex trauma symptoms. Yes, that’s based on a lot of research, but it’s also a throwback to my own experience. I was a long time depression and anxiety lurker, first time complex trauma contributor around age 23, when my brain was suddenly uprooted by a series of new social and therapy-based traumas.

My depression became debilitating negative self-regard and stronger suicidal ideation. Suddenly, my social anxiety became agoraphobia. My new health issues became topics of obsessive and intrusive thoughts… you know, when I wasn’t ruminating about my role in every trauma, my worthlessness as a human, and my recently-unsettled childhood memories. My early twenties were a great time.

And with all the mental strain, came the unresolvable insomnia. Which fed right into the health problems. Which circled back to spark more mental duress. Health anxiety is not a fun way to live.

So, to call my illnesses psychosomatic is completely appropriate. But, also, completely insulting when a western medicine practitioner utters the phrase as if it was a turd slowly coming out the wrong end. And that’s exactly what happened every time I tried to seek help.

To be clear - back in the day I had some very easily detectable physical problems. I understand that doctors have a difficult job when it comes to interpreting the immeasurable inner experiences that their patients detail, but that wasn’t entirely the case here. When your body stops digesting food, well, there’s some evidence to prove that it’s a fact. When a 96oz medical grade laxative used for colonoscopy prep results in zero percent colon cleanse… uh… somebody isn’t doing their duty (pun intended). And boy, did my digestive system just decide that it was DONE doing its only job.

Everything I ate seemed to spark unpleasant physical responses, but moving materials through my guts and extracting nutrients wasn’t one of them. After months of garbage disposal failure, I was basically a walking sewer mixed with a compost pile. I found myself chronically starving, exhausted, puffy, distended, intestinally inflamed, and generally sickly. Your body doesn’t fare so well when it has no sustenance, it turns out.

At the same time, or maybe slightly predating my digestive protests, I started getting ill in weird ways. Things I had never experienced before started popping up, like chronic respiratory tract infections, sinus infections, and gum infections. I was having what seemed like allergic responses to something in my inner or outer environment. I was often covered in hives or my face and stomach were inflating like balloons for no apparent reason. I had near-constant pain in my continually-locked shoulders and neck. My actual skin, itself, hurt, as if I was being stretched to the brink of bursting. My lifelong migraines transformed into something new - disorienting tension migraines that came with horrifying loss-of-vision auras and feverish shakes.

Generally speaking, I was so tired all the time that I could barely get out of bed for more than a few moments before retreating back to my safe place to feel like garbage. My limbs felt like someone had tied weights to them and extracted several major muscle groups. I struggled even showering or washing my face, because both required holding my arms up higher than I was capable of enacting. I was so deliriously tired that I couldn’t see straight, think, or complete basic tasks.

On top of giving up my impressive life trajectory in the aftermath of the physical breakdown - because I was too fucking exhausted to consider the next steps I needed to take for grad school - this is also where I’ve previously mentioned my drive-aphobia coming into play. When you can’t count on your own faculties, you definitely don’t want to be behind the wheel. And suddenly, life gets very restricted.

I gave up my… anything life trajectory at that point. I went from a wildly social and focused student with a fantastic sense of humor about life and stronghold of self-determination to… Hiding indoors. Keeping isolated. Obsessing over my health. Googling the most embarrassing things late at night. Having no answers. Feeling like a crazy person. Hating myself. Fearing that this was the end. Assuming that my future was over. Guilting myself for fucking up my past. Replaying my tragic story of a rapid flight and a crash, after everything I had fought so hard to accomplish. Giving up.

This is riiiiight about where I pull most of my inspiration for talking about living in perpetual “trauma states” from. Being consistently triggered, out of control, and terrified. Having no answers and no one to even ask. Watching mental illness take over my world without the slightest clue of what was happening. And, oh, the perpetual torment of unpredictable physical breakdowns.

Everyday a new surprise. Every moment the opportunity for a shocking change in vitality. Every night a battle of my brain versus my chronic pains versus sleep.

And so it persisted, throughout 2013 and into several later years… despite the fact that I actually came up with an answer for myself that vastly improved a good part of the sickness struggle... but definitely didn’t fix it all.

Finding AN answer

I’m sure I’ve already mentioned this, too… but eventually I found some respite in my health struggles through no help from modern medicine. In fact, I helped myself thanks to familial clues when I decided to exclusion-diet my way into an answer. My grandpa had celiac’s disease long before it was trendy and I decided gluten was a logical place to start. And what do you know? That helped about 60% of my ailments.

So began years of obsessing over figuring out the gluten free life. Which, contrary to popular opinion, fucking sucks. I get that it became a trendy idea at exactly the wrong point in my life, but goddamnit, I hate the question, "Are you ACTUALLY gluten free, or is it by choice?" It is not a dietary walk in the park when essentially every item is contaminated with some form or another of secret sauce and your body is going to flip out at the slightest dusting.

I remember being so distraught over having these drastic dietary considerations to figure out on my own that I would spontaneously break down into tears in all sorts of places - the fridge, the grocery store, restaurants, social contexts when people kindly asked, “how about you choose where to eat this time.” I can’t choose! I can’t eat anything! I would privately bawl to myself. What a fun time that was.

But that was not nearly the end of it.

It turned out, yes, entirely cutting the glutens helped immensely. I also realized that sugar was not my friend. In fact, processed anything was not going to have a great outcome. But then… there was this other weird pattern that I started noticing in my life… sometimes I was pretty healthy and (relatively speaking) happy with the way things were going off-wheat. But sometimes I was just as sickly and digestively screwed when I definitely hadn’t consumed anything questionable. As if other tried and true components of my diet randomly became gluten analogs that upset me just as much.

Plus, there were some ailments that just never seemed to go away. The insomnia was a persistent problem that stretched back to being about 5 years old, but got more severe with time. The aches and pains in my neck and shoulders only worsened, no matter how many tennis balls I rolled on, yoga classes I attended, or muscle relaxers I popped. The exhaustion came and went with connections to my mental health and diet, but not directly related to bready food items. The brain fog didn’t clear up when I had a strictly regimented diet. The tension migraines never fully returned from where they came.

I was still finding myself bedridden and ready to give up on the whole idea of living on a semi-regular basis. Sometimes it was every two weeks, sometimes once a month, sometimes a few months apart. But I never knew why, how long it would last, or how to control the system-wide failures.

And if you want to know how western medicine helped me with any of these continued challenges… it didn’t. I tried to get answers for years before I finally gave up. Every doctor turned me away. Every specialist was critically uninterested. Even the Mayo Clinic neglected to listen to what I said or utilize applicable resources, after I was so sure they could solve the medical mystery of my life.

So. I stopped trying at a certain point. I resolved myself to being health anxious and perpetually confused by myself. I realized that I would never know what any day was going to bring, because my discomforts and continued sicknesses seemed to come and go with the tides.

Eventually, after years of this bullshit, it got a bit better. I buckled down with - you guessed it - strict routines designed to circumvent some of the challenges.

I realized that my diet needed to be incredibly tight, and by that, I mean “boring.” Beyond gluten, I cut out basically everything sugary, carby, and processed. I noticed that without a certain variety of physical exercise on a regimented basis, everything started slipping. I prioritized finding ways to get to sleep at night, even if it meant being rigid and assessed as “dramatic” by less slumber-impaired humans. I gave up any activities that caused neck and shoulder strain, and tried to be better about things like stretching. I also noticed that dealing with my emotions was a gateway to pain and discomfort relief, which was an uphill battle all it’s own. And, you know, eventually I learned about this Complex Trauma thing that explained a HUGE part of early to mid twenties, including a majority of the physical ailments.

But, although I began to live like an above-averagely healthy human again… I’ve still always had a few mysteries about my health.

Sure, over the course of many years I’ve figured out how to live with a semi-predictable body after long periods of never knowing what tomorrow would bring. But, unfortunately, there are still times when my system throws me a curveball. During those unanticipated spans of health failure, I’m left ruminating on a question or three that haven’t ever been answered consistently.

One of the most common inquiries is coming at you next.

Stress or sick?

So, even after all my life changes and careful modifications. All my sacrifices and seemingly over-the-top regimes. I’ve still had an ongoing health obsession that pops up from time to time when my shit starts to go downhill.

The incrementally-observed question that runs through my head on repeat… “Wait, am I communicably sick, or am I just fucking stressed out again?”

I realized a while back - maybe in my mid-late twenties - that holy hell, I sure felt like I was coming down with the flu more often than it was logical. The thing was, my symptoms only ever progressed to the point of feeling like I was still actively fighting off the sickness as it took hold. I would get the temperature dysregulation, the headache, the muscle pain, the foggy feeling, and oh boy, the exhaustion - that generally serve as your first signs of contagious trouble.

I would be too deliriously tired to get up and do anything. If I made myself go to work, it felt like wading through a dream. Half present, half falling asleep at my desk. My body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Even my head was too heavy for my neck to manage the task.

Beyond the energy void, I would genuinely start to experience pre-illness complaints, like swollen lymph nodes, congestion, and the aforementioned shivers and shakes. I would find myself incredibly hungry, as though my immune system was ramping up for a fight. I would get weak, like all my electrolytes were purged from my body. I would characterize the experience as feeling “generally under the weather” in preparation for something much larger slamming into town.

Beyond the energy void, I would genuinely start to experience pre-illness complaints, like swollen lymph nodes, congestion, and the aforementioned shivers and shakes. I would find myself incredibly hungry, as though my immune system was ramping up for a fight. I would get incredibly weak, like all my electrolytes were purged from my body. I would characterize the experience as feeling “generally under the weather” in preparation for something much larger slamming into town.

And I would respond in kind. I would retreat to bed, Nyquil and vitamin C showering over me on frequent intervals, gearing up for the systemic war of a lifetime. I would drift in and out of sleep for a day or two, fending off the weird muscle aches and sweat sessions that come with an emerging fever. Interestingly, many of my old food reactivities would rear up during this period. I would get my neti pot and vomit-bags ready for action.

And then… nothing else would happen. Assuming I chilled out and retreated to a state of forfeit when I actually treated myself with kindness and care, everything would work out. After 1-5 days of being back in my bedridden state, determined that significant contagious sickness was headed my way, it would seem to just disappear overnight. Or, clear up by about 70% overnight, to be more realistic.

It took several rounds of this pattern - I couldn’t tell you how many - before I finally realized… heyyo, my body shuts the fuck down when I’m stressed out. Every time I experienced one of these sudden falls from health, it followed (or ran in tandem with) a period of significant stress, anxiety, and/or depression. And if I let myself relax for a week, it would all be okay. If I tried to push through it because ObLiGaTiOnS, I was signing myself up for a prolonged and far more serious health failure. It happened too many times; I knew it wasn’t a coincidence. Like I had postulated earlier in my adulthood - my health seemed to be drastically affected by my mental state. Particularly, my interpretations of stress, obligations, and fears.

And I can tell you, my health anxiety quieted down for a while in the aftermath of the acceptance. Call it immersion therapy. When you’ve experienced the same event over and over again, but A never leads to B, and C-alming your shit makes condition A disappear back into the ethers... well, eventually you take it for what it is and just stop panicking so much. I think I got tired of preoccupying myself with the whole dumpster fire at some point and preferred to extinguish the flames by letting them run their course.

This is where I’ve lived for the past many years now. Realizing that if I push myself too hard mentally or physically, or if I let too many stress signals infiltrate my brain… I’m about to get fucked up. My health will slip quickly. I will be reactive to essentially every food on this planet. My body will be puffy, inflamed, and painful. Not to mention, so goddamn tired all the time. But that’s it. It won’t last forever. I’m not going to die. Telling myself the opposite makes it all last a lot longer. Don’t pile stress about your stress-induced sickness onto your existing stress, and you'll be better soon.

And yet, when it’s happening, I also never know for a fact that my stress-based illness is definitely what’s going on. The result is getting trapped in a “will I or won’t I” obsessive spiral of anticipating the worst while reassuring myself that it might be nothing at all. There’s a lot of internal and external conversation about it, as people want to know if you’re sick and you want to be able to warn them that you feel like death… but also have to throw in the caveat, “Iunno, you have to realize that this happens to me all the time and it’s usually nothing, though.”

Of course, this creates the opportunity for my brain to 1) tell me I’m probably fine, quit complaining, pussy, and 2) compare myself to everyone else on the planet, who doesn’t crumble when their brain interprets times are hard. Because, of course, I have to make myself feel mentally ridiculous for feeling physically horrible. Other people are always happy to help in this regard, too. "You sure get sick a lot. I thought you had the flu last month. Wow, it always seems like something is wrong with you." Mhm, I feel the same on all accounts.

And, Fuckers, that’s why I stopped talking about it or looking for answers a long time ago. Instead, I've just relied on the most logical answer and quit worrying. I’ve done enough research on my own, not to mention all my Animal Science schooling, to know how stress responses work. They’re significant. They have the potential to disrupt your entire body through hormonal dysregulation. And they work differently - as far as we can tell - depending on the organism.

So that’s what I’ve leaned on. Acknowledgement that stress really screws with me. It zaps my energy. It fogs up my brain. It makes me overstimulated. It causes weird pains and immune system responses. It churns up my digestive problems. It also makes me feel like I’m starving but nauseous all at once. Over long periods of time, it can lead to infections. It, obviously, ruins my sleep, which reaaaaally doesn’t help with any of it.

That’s that. Pretty complicated but simple. Try not to stress yourself out and god help you, if you do. Chill for a few days and you’ll be alright, probably. No one knows why it happens. Doctors don’t care. Just watch out for yourself, because no one else deals with this shit.

Unless… they totally do.

So, that’s fibromyalgia

I guess this is where I tell you something that a lot of folks have probably already figured out. Sorry if you’ve been yelling at me through your headphones this whole time - chill, I’m getting to it.

There definitely is a term for everything I’ve described. There are millions of other people who experience it. And, yeah, doctors often still don’t believe it’s real… but the numbers and anecdotal evidence don’t lie.

Ever heard of fibromyalgia?

Of course you have. But have you ever really looked into what it meant? Because… I hadn’t.

Annnnd then a listener and I were chatting on Instagram a few weeks ago. And she mentioned... everything I just mentioned. And her diagnosis had been? Fibromyalgia.

Via DM, your fellow Fucker started telling me about being tired all the time, mysterious aches and pains that worsen with stress, IBS symptoms, improper temperature regulation, and over-exertion that leads to required days of recovery. My jaw hit the floor.

You know I hopped online and started doing more research of my own. And all of the information was confirmed and expanded upon in a way that drove my mandible straight into the basement.

Hey, you know how fibromyalgia is synonymous with “widespread pain?” Oh shit, if you dig into it, there is a lot more to learn. Here’s a (maybe, complete?) list of the currently known associated symptoms. Keep in mind, I couldn’t find a single comprehensive resource for this information. This list is compiled of information from the the peer-reviewed article I'm going to read from later, the American College of Rheumatology, the CDC, Healthline, and Medical News Today. And if it sounds like a bit of a "catch all" pile, I think you're right.

Pain and stiffness all over the body

Fatigue and tiredness

Depression and anxiety

Sleep problems

Problems with thinking, memory, and concentration, known as “fibro-fog”

Headaches, including migraines

Tingling or numbness in hands and feet

Pain in the face or jaw

Digestive problems, such as abdominal pain, bloating, constipation, and irritable bowel syndrome

Tenderness to touch or pressure affecting muscles, sometimes joints or even the skin

Irritable or overactive bladder

Pelvic pain

Trouble focusing or paying attention

Pain or a dull ache in the lower belly

Dry eyes

Sleeping for long periods of time without feeling rested (nonrestorative sleep)

Acid reflux

Restless leg syndrome

Sensitivity to cold or heat

Problems with vision

Nausea

Weight gain

Dizziness

Cold or flu-like symptoms

Skin problems

Chest symptoms

Breathing problems

Insulin resistance

Wait, wait, wait. THAT’S what fibro is? Because, I’m sorry, I have literally never heard any of that detail before… and although it gets so ambiguous that I suspect these ailments are all the conditions that just haven't been explained before by medical science... this list just described my life. All the way down to the tiniest detail of dry eyes, as I now recall chronically dumping drops into mine for those same years in my 20s. What. The. Shit.

Prior to this research, my symptomatic knowledge of fibro was essentially - pain, of the unexplained and incurable variety. No one ever once has mentioned anything else about the condition to me, or allll the ways that it correlated with my years of health trauma. Not my peers, not my doctors, and not even my amazing, well-informed therapist.

So, maybe I’m really late to the game here, but long story short, my mind was blown when I heard that there’s actually a term for this experience which I had forfeited to processing as a “unique way that my body individually destroys me” for all these years. I thought I was just uniquely uncomfortable all the time and stopped burdening others with my experiences.

Maybe that’s why I never had anyone clue me in to the diagnosis - I honestly stopped talking about the cyclical sickness a while back, after recognizing that people didn’t respond favorably to the narrative, “I just get too stressed out to function.” Shutting my mouth and writing off my experiences may have halted my potential for hearing a realistic account of living with fibromyalgia. Oh, how the trauma shame shenanigans never stop royally fucking you.

Of course, based on my own recent education, now I’m wondering if fibromyalgia applies to far more of us in the trauma community. Because if I hadn’t found reliable information on it in all my trauma and inflammatory illness research over the years… how many other people are in the same boat?

And this brings me to my next point. I really hate the term fibromyalgia.

Why I hate the term

There’s actually another explanation for why I never heard about everything that fibromyalgia describes. Uh, you’re going to hate me for this, but I didn’t think it was a “real” diagnosis.

Yep. I’m telling you with moderate guilt that for the longest time, I appraised fibro in the same way that western medicine considers all psychosomatic illnesses - not valid. And I’m unhappy with myself, too. Believe me, I feel like my least favorite kind of person... a hypocrite. But this also points to the systemic issue that undermines so many of our attempts to get help, and that makes me far more unhappy.

You see, a number of years ago, as a budding counselor with a few years of experience, my therapist friend mentioned something about fibro. Specifically, that it was a common label granted to more seriously mentally affected patients… and it wasn’t believed to be a real thing. I wish I could remember more detail on the context, but the basis of the story is, someone that I trusted - someone with many trauma patients - told me that in her experience, no one took fibromyalgia seriously. People with intense mental illnesses regularly presented with unfounded complaints of pain, and this is the term they were assigned as a result.

There was no proof of their physical discomfort. The patients tended to have myriad mental and physical health issues. They tended to be more difficult clients. Professionals had doubts about how serious the complaints were. No evidence, no respect. It was just about that simple.

To give more weight to the story, here’s one quick excerpt that is actually validating to read, from an article titled, The management of fibromyalgia from a psychosomatic perspective: an overview.

“People with FM often reported dismissive attitudes from others, such as disbelief, stigmatization, lack of acceptance by their relatives, friends, coworkers, and the healthcare system, that consider them as ‘lazy’ or ‘attention seeking’ people, with their symptoms ‘all in their head’. Such dismissiveness can have a substantial negative impact on patients, who are already distressed, and also on the degree of their pain.”

So… similar to the asshole social associates described above… for years after that, I paid no attention to fibromyalgia. When people brought it up, I nodded and moved on. I didn’t disbelieve that there would be a connection between mental illness and the onset of bodily pains after my own experiences, but the term had also been shuttled to a file in my head that sidled up next to, “seeking prescription pain meds.” This was an incorrect judgement based on incorrect, oversimplified information. But unfortunately, it left an impression.

So… similar to the assholes described above… for years after that, I paid no attention to fibromyalgia. When people brought it up, I nodded and moved on. I didn’t disbelieve that there would be a connection between mental illness and the onset of bodily pains after my own experiences, but the term had also been shuttled to a file in my head that sidled up next to, “seeking prescription pain meds.” This was an incorrect judgement based on incorrect, oversimplified information. But unfortunately, it left an impression.

It took the real life account of someone with the diagnosis to show me all the ways that my previous perception was completely incorrect. I suddenly realized how reductive and insulting the false information had been. Annnd all the ways that I could have really helped myself and a few others a lot sooner if I had just investigated the term on my own, rather than lazily falling back on someone else’s casually-expressed opinion.

So, I’m saying… fuck me. 100%. That makes me really upset with myself. But it makes me even more frustrated with the medical field.

And this is why I hate the term fibromyalgia.

It doesn’t actually explain a fucking thing… and it doesn’t seem like anyone is actually trying to.

At this point, there is no known cause for the development or persistence of the disorder. Fibromyalgia has essentially become more of a label for a grouping of symptoms that we “allow” people to assume when we don’t know what the hell might be wrong with them. I say “allow” very purposely, because it feels like our medical overlords have granted us this word as a way to pacify the uncomfortable masses - not treat them.

At this point, there is no known cause or organic mechanism for the development or persistence of the disorder. Fibromyalgia has essentially become more of a label for a grouping of symptoms that we “allow” people to assume when we don’t know what the hell might be wrong with them. I say “allow” very purposely, because it feels like our medical overlords have granted us this word as a way to pacify the uncomfortable masses - not treat them.

Millions of humans have detailed the same experiences, but science hasn’t yet come up with a way to explain them, so let’s go ahead and give them a new diagnosis that boils down to “Not sure what’s going on, but they say it’s unpleasant and it sounds a little something like widespread pain. Cool, let’s call it a day. Nah, we don’t need to educate the medical community or the public - we don’t need a single list of all the known comorbidities - because we don’t get it, ourselves. Let’s make sure we put that disclaimer right in the definition, so everyone knows it’s a controversial topic."

And implicit in saying that doctors and scientists don’t understand the term, comes a negative connotation of assumed delusion or attention-seeking complaints.

Essentially, what I’m bitching about is the tendency of researchers and practitioners to shuttle things they can’t directly measure to the back of the relevancy line. Despite all of the anecdotal evidence from fibro sufferers that corroborate the same causes, symptoms, and outcomes… we can’t see what they’re talking about and we don’t have an easy explanation, so we put this in the “fake news” stack of information - AKA psychosomatic illness.

Now, it’s also worth mentioning that fibromyalgia is deeply intertwined with trauma. Something like 2/3rds of fibro patients also have confirmed PTSD symptoms, if not higher. Exact numbers depend on which study you trust. Just know, it is a prevalent, accepted, correlation between trauma and the development of fibromyalgia. And of course, no one has determined the causative or affective relationship between the two at this point in time.

Hell, we all know that a lot of mental and physical health professionals don’t even want to acknowledge trauma at this point - or, do so with a smirk and an eyebrow raise, at best. So tethering the two poorly-comprehended disorders together? Oh boy, it’s a sure-fire way to ensure that no one listens to a word you say after honestly answering their background information questions. Might as well throw down your wallet and walk yourself right out of the office at that point.

The medical field’s lack of trauma education is a big problem. Making “psychosomatic” a dirty word isn’t helping millions of folks out there. Being invalidated by the people who could possibly help you is another mental health crisis waiting to happen. And all of this is infuriating to me, following my own experiences and thinking about other people’s.

Should we take this one outrage step further? Sure.

You know that a vast majority of fibromyalgia sufferers are… women. Sorry, about to get a tad feminist. Is anyone here surprised that primarily female voices tend to be written off by medical professionals? Ha, ha, ha. No, probably not.

For all of human history, the ladies have been getting the shit end of the stick when it comes to medical care. We all know that women were given amazing explanations for their ailments, such as having “hysterics” or "the vapors" not so long ago.

Furthermore, there is research showing that doctors do not take women’s accounts of pain severity seriously, in particular. Even fellow female doctors and nurses are given different treatment by staff when they go to the ER, versus male counterparts. And if you’re a minority or socioeconomically challenged woman? The data says you might as well take two aspirin and see what happens the next morning, because the medical attention research is even worse for those demographics. Huge surprise.

So, pulling this all together: Considering that the majority of us who receive complex trauma diagnoses are women… considering that implicit in this label, comes the increased likelihood that we’re not economically well-to-do and belong to minority groups one way or another… how do you figure we’ve ever had a chance of receiving real help for our unmeasurable physical conditions?

So, pulling this all together: Considering that the majority of us who receive complex trauma diagnoses are women… considering that implicit in this label, comes the increased likelihood that we’re not economically well-to-do and belong to minority groups… how do you figure we’ve ever had a chance of receiving real help for our unmeasurable physical conditions?

Yeah, we haven’t.

We’ve been given a term - complete with a wink and a nudge - that no one wants to meaningfully research or prioritize understanding. We’ve received a new phrase that doctors will “generously grant us” when we’re drowning in unexplained symptoms and pain. We’re then labeled with a word that essentially amounts to “disregard and humor” for all our future appointments. On top of it all, we’re carrying the burden of traumatic histories, which immediately qualify us for misunderstood diagnoses that more or less equate “ghosts in their blood” - because, hell, we can’t quantify mental illness, either.

The whole ordeal makes me really upset. The fact that I was inadvertently pulled into this biased disbelief makes me more upset. It also serves as quite a demonstration of how powerful or deleterious knowledge can be after it worms its way into your head involuntarily and becomes your only “go-to” piece of data, true or false.

One seemingly-trustworthy person mentioning a negative opinion of fibromyalgia one time in my past somehow infiltrated my thoughts to the extent that I didn’t have a second thought for 5 years? And we're talking about a goddamn trauma researcher - with, what I consider - an otherwise open and connection-happy mind?

The power of assumed authority and truth in opinion is significant. If I can be swayed in this way, how could less mental health informed medical professionals stand a chance in responding differently? That’s frightening and clarifying… though immensely upsetting.

So, since biomedicine hasn’t bothered to find any great information for us, despite the rapidly increasing rate of fibromyalgia diagnoses in the past two decades - how can we make sense of the information to actually help ourselves?

Let’s talk about that next.

What we can conclude

So it kindof blows finding out that you probably qualify for a new medical term… only to find out that we don’t actually know anything about said term. I say this, because if you’re waiting for me to pop off with some sweet research on fibromyalgia… uh… I haven’t found it yet. But not for lack of trying. So far every article I’ve seen has been pretty basic and uninspired.

Does fibromyalgia correspond with trauma? It does. Does stress mediate and moderate fibromyalgia, PTSD symptoms, GI problems, and depression? It does. Does it take a long time and numerous appointments to receive medical help for fibromyalgia complaints? It does. Does the comorbidity of post-traumatic symptoms make fibro more uncomfortable and challenging to overcome? What do you know - it fucking does.

(Wow. So enlightening. Having two debilitating disorders is less fun than having one. Who’s funding these research studies, anyways?)

The first thing I can conclude is, there’s not that much to conclude. This is to say, no one - that I’ve seen, so far - has revealed anything super shocking or thought-provoking about fibromyalgia.

Really, the most interesting things I learned from my reading are that

1) insulin resistance is another associated disorder, which explains even more of my baffling life

2) sex hormones are leached from your system under stress, which, refer to point number one... explains another huge chunk of my existence, and

3) the recommendations for treating fibro long term are the same recommendations I’ve given for getting your trauma life re-ordered.

You know how I always push for people to find out what’s manageable on their own through trial and error, rather than approaching trauma recovery with preventable fires burning in every area? Hey - someone agrees.

Namely, it's recommended that in order to manage fibromyalgia you establish routines including strictly nutrition-based eating habits, non-threatening forms of consistent exercising, prioritizing tons of sleep, and controlling your environment as much as possible for stressful stimuli. Doctors can also supplement your rehab with antidepressants, because, again, fibromyalgia is related to the same underlying hormonal imbalances as depression - but the larger health issues are managed best by changing your behaviors. Just like I’ve said.

I suppose this is no surprise, since this entire time I’ve unknowingly been talking, in large part, about how I’ve controlled my own fibromyalgia symptoms. I just thought it was mandatory trauma pains I was dampening. But the word is out! There's a separate phrase for it. The doctors and I agree; stop treating yourself like a turd, and maybe you’ll stop feeling like one. Whatdoyouknow. Sometimes there are reasons for the things I notice experientially, even if they aren’t originally informed by medical lingo.

Secondly, looking at what we can conclude at this point about fibro… Well, it justifies my previous hypothesis that stress is the root of my body’s evil. There’s not much to definitively say about fibromyalgia at this point, but we know for a fact that it is agitated and potentially caused by stress.

This perfectly aligns with my observations that a terrible work week mixed with a personally challenging month on top of a physically exhausting cleaning marathon will lead to a systemic breakdown every time. And, conversely, those times when life has actually been pretty chill correspond to periods of bodily health and limited upset - the times when I wonder “was I ever really sick at all?” and start to health gaslight my damn self.

Realizing the link between stress and sickness, of course, also begins to explain the correlation to trauma, and particularly, complex trauma.

Now, let me start by saying that there’s some debate over the downstream effects of PTSD - some researchers swear that it decreases system arousal in the face of later stress, others have collected data reflecting that a nervous system hyper-sensitization takes place. From my own trauma involvement, I’ve seen and heard more cases of the latter; we’re quick to upset and easily pushed into stressed territory. I don’t know many, if any, trauma folks who are non-responsive to disturbing life events... but that sounds more like a deep, dangerous, clinical depression symptom to me.

Personally, once I’ve been chronically stressed for a few weeks or months, then I notice the loss of stress response take over. My limbic system gives up, the HPA axis stops responding, and therefore nothing can rattle me. Perhaps you’ve also had the experience of laughing when your car breaks down, because it’s already been 3 months of disaster around every turn and there’s nothing else you can do for yourself. So, sure, people can reach a point where they legitimately don’t respond to the chaos anymore, but I’m not so sure that’s a consistent norm. I think it’s more likely that you turn off your stress reactions if you’ve been adequately prepped to dissociate for the sake of sanity or your chemical balance is so wack that your danger center has powered down.

I can tell you without a doubt that before the point when my stress threshold has been raised sky-high thanks to repeat exposures and wiring disconnections... I’m a rapid-responder when anxiety comes calling. Stimulus - rapid survival reaction - no space in between being startled and shaking from head to toe. And this is the case for basically every Motherfucker I know. I’m no expert, but I think we tend to fall more into the hypervigilant camp surrounding this podcast, rather than the laxadonical one. Always on the lookout, always ready, often bowled over by our own responses.

I’m a rapid-responder when anxiety comes calling. Stimulus - rapid survival reaction - no space in between being startled and shaking from head to toe. And this is the case for every Motherfucker I know. I’m no expert, but I think we tend to fall more into the hypervigilant camp surrounding this podcast, rather than the laxadonical one. Always on the lookout, always ready, often bowled over by our own responses

This nervous system sensitization, as they call it, explains a lot of trauma symptoms. I’ve regularly discussed the hypersensitivity problem it creates, when your brain doesn’t adequately filter out or assess neutral stimuli because it considers basically everything to be a threat. This can also contribute to the ADD and ADHD diagnoses that we receive, when our heads are too busy trying to sort all that data streaming in to direct our thoughts in a steady way. Or, the ways that we’re uniquely thrown immediately into panic mode when we sense a risk. Plus, we’ve probably all had the experience of tiny, secret triggers sneakily upsetting our bodies when the stimulation wasn’t even significant enough to pass through our cognitive recognition centers. These are all caused by the same systemic over-sensitization problem.

In general: yes, we trauma folk are sensitive to our environments - inner and outer. We are easily pushed down survival pathways to fight/flight/freeze/fawn responses. We rapidly catastrophize ambiguous information, which can convince our brains and bodies that the worst has already happened. We’re hyperaware and easily overstimulated, often agitated, and regularly on edge.

I maintain, in the face of controversial evidence, that we get stressed out easily. And our bodies react dramatically.

I feel like I should also state that this is especially true, as most of us have read, when we have unresolved emotional strain floating around in our meat jackets. We can be overstimulated and aroused (in a bad way) from the inside, out. Since the majority of us are not skilled in emotional recognition or resolution, we’re often walking around with a lifetime of hard feelings stored in our guts. And there’s been roughly zero doubt in my head about emotional and environmental stress contributing to dissociation, contributing to a vagal nerve shutdown as a big part of the digestive failure that characterizes fibromyalgia, IBS, Crohns, and so many autoimmune disorders.

On top of the unresolved emotional root of stress, this pings another episode that I've previously released. The one about being overly restrictive in your diet and exercise for the sake of appearance perfectionism. If you physically exert yourself too strongly through caloric deprivation or extreme work outs, you can easily stress your body into a survival response. It can't tell the difference between starvation for bikini season and starvation for lack of food. Running your ass off for your upcoming wedding or running your ass off for your upcoming bear attack. Your danger sensing center is sensitive and it overreacts, much like myself.

Now, considering that all these examples of central nervous system sensitization and physiological survival states that go hand in hand with Complex Trauma and Fibromyalgia, so many weird health mysteries are potentially resolved. But, not exactly the pain component. Or, is it.

Again, the authors out of Italy and Brazil who penned, The management of fibromyalgia from a psychosomatic perspective: an overview, have a potential way to think about that. They state:

“Even if the causes and pathophysiology of FM are not completely known, widespread chronic pain could be explained by a vulnerability due to a perturbation in the central processing of sensory information, named ‘central sensitivity’ or ‘central sensitization’, that amplifies the response of the central nervous system to a peripheral input. Hence, people with FM and/or other central sensitivity syndromes have a lower threshold for interpreting sensory information as noxious. Several factors, such as genetic predisposition, deficiencies in neurotransmitter levels, biochemical changes in the body, endocrine dysfunction, mood states, anxiety, sociocultural environment, psychological trauma and past experiences in general, expectancy beliefs, and catastrophization have been proposed as explanatory mechanisms of patients’ subjective experience of central sensitivity. Current research indicates that abnormal sensory and pain processing is a key factor in the pathophysiology of FM. There is robust evidence that abnormalities in central pain processing, rather than damage or inflammation of peripheral structures, play an important role in the development and maintenance of chronic pain in patients with FM.”

Interesting, huh? I still think inflammatory responses are a big part of the 1000 piece stress puzzle, but I don’t disagree with the idea that our finely-tuned danger detection systems amplify pain and discomfort signals to deafening levels. Putting all the system data together, you can deduce a fairly complete picture of how strain, physical degradation, and pain are all related.

Finally, I have confirmation that being overly stimulated causes everything from my energy drain to my dietary responses, migraines, and autoimmune attacks... all the way down to my temperature sensitivity, random presentation of allergic reactions, and even that occasional sharp pain in my jaw… not to mention all my life-altering functional problems, like being unable to sleep at night, existing with debilitating pain, and living while feeling sedated?

All of my strange health complaints from the past decade have aligned with this new label. And that label corresponds perfectly with my inkling that running on cortisol and overzealous guardsmen have been the major source of my health anxiety sauce. Welp, it’s been validating research for all of my educated guesses, to say the least.

Long story short, there’s not a ton of helpful information about the reasons for developing fibromyalgia or what makes it get worse. But there’s one thing we do know for a fact; stress is the enemy. At least I think it’s comforting to conclude that stress is the root of many of our C-PTSD complaints, as well as depression, anxiety, insomnia, obsessive thoughts, and now… a whole list of common maladies, labeled fibromyalgia.

Whether or not it’s really understood, at least there is a connection between everything. At least there’s something that ties ALL the random, disjointed pieces of torture together. I’m guessing that for many of us, fibromyalgia is similar to complex trauma, again, in that regard.

And, lastly, I can conclude that… I have more questions

More questions than answers

Here’s one last excerpt from the aforementioned article, which is the only one I found that’s worth hearing from.

They state: “FM is labelled, often with a negative connotation, as a ‘functional somatic syndrome’, part of a ‘somatization disorder’, ‘fashionable diagnosis’, ‘idiopathic pain disorder’, ‘non-disease’, ‘psychosomatic syndrome’, dismissing the true suffering of the patients. In the absence of a univocal identified biological cause, subjective reports of symptoms by the patients are often viewed derogatorily and discredited as ‘psychogenic.’”

Like I said, there isn’t a lot of helpful information out there if you’re looking to learn more about this controversial condition. Unfortunately, it has been categorized as a “functional somatic disorder” which essentially means that we don’t have an explanation for the organic basis of the disorder.

Uh, I don’t know what could be more organic than the endogenous hormones in our own bodies creating downstream health effects, but hey, I’m not a biologist anymore, what do I know?

The fact remains - there’s a lot more to understand about the assorted mechanisms that lead from trauma into depression, generalized stress disorder, and physical manifestations of a biochemical system that’s running off-balance. And this is where I have the biggest questions.

First, I have to get this out of the way. I’m wondering about the known gender split in fibro. The numbers are horrendously skewed towards women as the primary sufferers, and that’s not helping the medical legitimacy case. So, what are the chances that men just don’t have fibromyalgia at the same rate as women? Either they don’t get stressed to the same magnitude or their bodies respond completely differently? It’s possible. OR. Is it something else?

It seems to me like this follows another similar mystery - what are the chances that men just don’t suffer from Complex Trauma at the same rate as women? Pretty poor? Probably more of a diagnostic or seeking-help issue? Yeah, I think so, too. Yet, if you look strictly at the numbers, it sure seems like there are more women hearing about C-PTSD than men.

This analogous labeling issue between the genders makes me think of a few explanations…

1) Men don’t seek help for their physical ailments the way that women do, either because they’re less in tune with their bodies or because they’re shamed for not being tough enough if they complain. Just like C-PTSD.

2) Men don’t hear about fibromyalgia, because it is an engendered diagnosis reserved for dramatic women at this point. Just like C-PTSD. They receive other partial diagnoses, like IBS, that are less controversial. This leads me into a whole spiraling rant about several genital-dependent psychological diagnoses that I feel similarly about, but one of them is…

3) Men don’t receive the same level of fibromyalgia labels as women because men don’t often receive Complex-PTSD labels, which would serve as a hint to their doctors, since trauma is a well-known predisposing factor…

This brings me to the next set of questions.

It’s unpopular opinion time, but, frankly, I don’t know that any of these trauma and fibro issues are really that separate.

It seems to me like we’re talking a lot about one particular problem that splinters off into a thousand different outcomes, depending on the circumstances, the biology, and the human in question. Not separate conditions.

First comes the trauma, then comes the presentation of downstream physical and mental symptoms. Presentation, magnitude, and personal recognition of these symptoms varies, just like severity of Complex Trauma does. But under both conditions, our experiences are often so similar - the hard part is that we struggle to describe them and often lean on abstract language which can be used in such diverse ways. We focus on different problems, depending on our own life impacts.

So, maybe we notice and report internal events differently, but it’s hard for me to believe that the two disorders aren’t more than corresponding diagnoses - and are, in fact, one and the same.

I could be very wrong, but I’d sure like to find out.

So, to the small percentage of fibromyalgia sufferers who don’t have trauma… you sure? To the depressed and anxious folks who can’t seem to get a grip on their physical health, but never saw their life as traumatic… want to take another look? To all the traumatized folks with Raynauds, food allergies, hypertension, ADD, aches, and migraines… have you really looked into the full definition of fibromyalgia?

ARE these conditions of trauma and fibromyalgia different? Or is this another complication in identifying unseeable symptoms in a population of folks who never learned to name their mental and physical experiences? Is this an artifact from a group who tends to underestimate and under-report their own experiences in light of unhealthy others’ core beliefs? How prevalent is fibromyalgia, really? Especially in the context of Trauma?

Is it possible that everything boils down to one underlying event - trauma - that produces a whole host of other biological adaptations down the line? Did we create a separate term for it, simply based on a lack of standardization?

Or is this an exclusionary problem?

Have all the various ways we’ve learned to categorize and describe our experiences actually separated one full disorder into two half-disorders; one that encompasses the brain and another that covers the body? Is it our societal misunderstanding of the connection between our perceptions and our meaty husks, forcing us to separate the issues of mental and physical health that would be better understood together, as one?

I’m not sure! But I’m definitely thinking a lot about it.

Partially, from personal bias. I always considered my physical issues to be part of my trauma life, not separate from it - and that explanation made perfect sense to me. Where do these disorders really split? Maybe it’s possible to have Complex PTSD without the physical symptoms, but that's really not what I hear from people. The most of us have at least some periods of physical ailments, even if they're not persistent. To me, it seems like a distinction that should be made within the trauma diagnosis - with or without physical wellness degradation - rather than piling a separate, largely-ineffective diagnosis on the vast majority of us who have some variety of said bodily ailments.

I feel like the real issue isn’t “what is fibromyalgia?” The actual problem is a lack of biological understanding in the Psychology field. And a mirrored failure to understand Psychology in the medical field. Then, throw in a reluctance to study the conglomerate of bio-physiology and mental health issues in the scientific research literature because both experiences are difficult to measure or confirm and the studies would be less elegant.

If more psychologists actually learned system biology and more medical practitioners actually studied abnormal psychology, maybe we wouldn’t have disparate diagnoses that each come with a half-recognition. Maybe we could have one term that encompassed the full experience of trauma. Maybe these professionals could confirm all the details that we don’t understand by working with a more comprehensive approach to how humans work as a whole, rather than organ by organ. Just a fucking thought.

Because, I can tell you, if my therapist friend had the same biological education that I did at the time, I guarantee that she wouldn’t have told me fibromyalgia was a “pseudo diagnosis.” If she had knowledge of the connection between stress hormones and bodily breakdown, plus the trauma physiology that determines our sensitivity to stress - there’s no way she would have been so flippant or insensitive with her words. But under the influence of her counseling peers, the diagnosis became a fallacy.

I think this highlights the danger of the problem at hand. It only took one industry-determined void of knowledge to pass along an unfair opinion that skewed at least my perception for years down the line. And, think about it, how many times has one innocently-baseless comment in the psychology or medical fields probably created a lifetime of bias in an up-and-coming professional?

Maybe this is why we have the self-perpetuating negative connotation of psychosomatic illness in our society that seems to crawl its way towards improvement, while every other disorder makes significant strides. A lack of personal understanding of the biology-psychology connection is easily turned into a respected opinion, and readily transmitted to unknowing people who are eager to learn from their wise mentors. And so, the next generation inherits the same set of half-baked progress-stunting ideas. Over and over and over.

Depressing! And enlightening.

And that’s roughly where I stand today, after days of fibromyalgia research and very few satisfactory answers. Depressed and enlightened.

More or less, asking myself more questions about the legitimacy of our entire mental and physical healthcare system and all the lines we draw in the sand. Confident that trauma leads to increased stress leads to increased brain and body trauma. Somewhat happy to know that I’m actually not the only one who consistently apologizes for feeling like shit and questions if it’s “valid” or not because it seems connected to my brain. But also, pretty pissed off that we’ve been given a word that comes with no explanations and a hellofalot of medical field judgement, as if we needed more of that.

Oh, one more factoid to throw into the end of this conversation. There’s a link between low socioeconomic status and fibromyalgia.

Hey, the same link exists between socioeconomic status and complex trauma. Hey, it’s another predisposing factor for post-traumatic stress disorder symptoms’ emergence. Hey, big surprise, if you have a stable and predictable physical and financial environment, you’re less likely to develop the terror-based conditions brought on by earlier trauma.

If you have financial resources, you’re also less likely to be chronically stressed by the demands of life. You’re probably also more likely to receive respectable medical care. Therefore, meaning that you’re both less likely to have enough perturbation to develop over-sensitive nervous system responses and less likely to be dismissed by doctors with a label they don’t believe exists. Plus, probably more likely to have access to mental health care that could prevent the onset of Complex Trauma presentation, and likely fibromyalgia, altogether.

Oh, look, logic explains so many things. Or, fuckit, let’s just choose to believe that poor people are lazy and always want to complain about something, whether it’s in their heads or their bodies. Whatever the rich white men say.

Big issues to think about.

Like I state way too often on this show, it’s the small things in this trauma life that bring you comfort. And monumental societal failures that make you scream. (Okay, I just added that last part today.)

Wrap it

Okay, let me get out of here before I question more beliefs that are way out of my paygrade. Sorry, medical and psychological practitioners. I know that I’m just a critical observer who, like that kid everyone hates in class, perpetually asks too many questions.

At the bottom of all my complaints, I just wish that we could come up with a way to characterize these disorders that actually helped people understand what was happening. If you know how your body is reacting to what stimuli and how the symptoms are all related, that's a lot more powerful than throwing assorted barely-defined titles at them.

If we can't definitively say that fibromyalgia and trauma symptoms are one and the same, fine. Let there be a distinction. But I think it would be preferable to call fibro something more telling and true to the accepted cause. Call it semantics, but something like Stress Affective Syndrome would be more useful than the made-up word of fibromyalgia. Please, anyone feel free to come up with a better phrase, because I just made "Stress Affective Syndrome" up so I could say "I've got SAS." It already fits the bill.

I guess I’m just up in arms that I’ve tried to find answers for my brain and body health all these years, and turned up completely empty handed until random connections have eventually given me the information I’ve needed after a decade of effort. Maybe if I had my complex trauma diagnosis before I had my health complaints, someone would have mentioned fibromyalgia. Maybe, they would have knowingly smirked and sent me to a psychiatrist. Hard to say.

Even if I had gotten that information about fibro, would it have helped separate from the C-PTSD diagnosis? Honestly, probably not. I would have just been harder on myself for suddenly being too weak in the face of stress. And after reading that medical professionals doubt the validity of fibromyalgia, in the first place? Well that would have been a whole other source of disbelief, anger, and negative self-regard. Maybe a whole new crisis, once my inner critic got a chance to hammer away at my head.

I suppose that figuring out the patterns of my strange bodily conditions actually needed to happen organically for this Fucker, because any semi-questioned diagnosis would have just been more fuel for my trauma fire at that point when I so thoroughly despised myself. Confirming to myself, for a fact, that stress fucks me up may have been a prerequisite for accepting that I might be “one of those fibro people.” You know, the ones who lie about their symptoms. Ha.

And, again, this says a lot about the potential damage that poorly-described labels can do to people… just as much as it says about my own reluctance to be considered a weak-minded over-reactor by outsiders.

All of this being said, I’m so grateful for finally finding out exactly what all fibromyalgia actually entails. It took too long, but honestly, the information came at the perfect time. Two days after I got it, I was stress-sick. Ahhh, it's fibro time. How’s that for irony?

As always, I do think there is some empowerment in the basic root understanding that you aren’t the only one who’s dealt with any of this. The mysterious illnesses, the pain, or the lack of care from modern medicine aren’t individual experiences. Hey, you might even be relieved to know that someone else on this planet routinely asks herself, “Do I have cancer for real this time, or am I just overworked again?”

After years of nobody I spoke to having a tale that even mildly resembled my autoimmune breakdown, finding anybody who related to my issues was extremely relieving. Not only was it a common experience, but it meant that I hadn’t somehow brought the discomfort on myself - through mental illness, physical shenanigans, or plain old weakness - the ways that I feared.

Furthermore, it proved that I hadn’t imagined it all. Because believe it or not, you’re surprisingly willing to throw yourself under the bus after all the pain has passed. I’ve spent the past decade telling people, “I think I have the glutens, as I call it... but I don’t really know though, it’s never been explained, sometimes other things bother me, and sometimes it’s really not a big deal, I don't know what it is” as an almost-apology. A disclaimer that I, too, doubt my own memories and conclusions because they weren’t properly validated by who I considered authority figures.

Hearing that other people had digestive disorders and autoimmune disasters in the wake of Complex Trauma, via the book The Body Keeps The Score, shocked me into self-acceptance of my prior experiences. Hearing that all of it can be encapsulated by this term fibromyalgia a few days ago - well, shit. This is a more mainstream occurrence than I ever previously thought.

And you know what? It does matter to me that I’m not the only one who falls apart when my brain gets overwhelmed. Even if it doesn’t fix anything. Even if my own postulations for how fibromyalgia is born from trauma feel more applicable than the scientifically proven ones. Even if I don’t believe the term deserves to stand alone as a medical label without further delineation - especially of the connection to and overlap with trauma. Even if I think… it might be inseparable.

And you know what? It does matter to me that I’m not the only one who falls apart when my brain gets overwhelmed. Even if it doesn’t fix anything. Even if my own postulations for how fibromyalgia is born from trauma are more enlightening than the scientifically proven ones. Even if I don’t believe the term deserves to stand alone as a medical label without further delineation - especially of the connection to and overlap with trauma. Even if I think… it might be inseparable.

Now I know. When I feel a physical breakdown coming on, with the suspected cause being stress… I don’t have to apologize for it. I don’t need to tell people that I just can’t handle the pressure with unfettered shame for my own biochemistry. I can rest assured that what I’m going through is common - far more common than we know - and completely valid. Even if there are people ready to tell you that it's not.

But, to be honest, I still probably won’t tell anyone that it’s called fibromyalgia. I’m not proud to say, I wouldn’t want them to think I’m just being dramatic.

UGH.

#cptsd #healcptsd #actually CPTSD #just cptsd things #traumabrain #Complex Trauma #trauma recovery #complextrauma #complexptsd

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qqueenofhades · 4 years

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I have a question about your opinion as a historian about how to deal with problematic past. I am French, not American, so not quite as aware of what is happening right now in the US regarding statues as I probably should. My question is the following: many of the politicians who promoted (admittedly white) social equality in France, worked on reforming labor laws, etc, in the 19th / 20th century were certainly not anti-colonialist. How to deal with this "mixed legacy" today? Best wishes to you!

First off, I am honoured that you would ask me this question. Disclaimer, my work in French history is largely focused on the medieval era, rather than modern France, and while I have studied and traveled in France, and read and (adequately?) speak French, I am not French myself. So this should be viewed as the perspective of a friendly and reasonably well-informed outsider, but not somebody from France themselves, and therefore subject to possible errors or otherwise inaccurate statements. But this is my perception as I see it, so hopefully it will be helpful for you.

(By the way if you’re interested, my post on the American statue controversy and the “preserving history!” argument is here. I originally wrote it in 2017, when the subject of removing racist monuments first arose, and then took another look at it in light of recent events and was like “WELP”.)

There’s actually a whole lot to say about the current crisis of public history in a French context, so let me see if I can think where to start. First, my chief impression is that nobody really associates France with its historical empire, the same way everyone still has either a positive or negative impression of the British Empire and its real-world effects. The main international image of France (one carefully cultivated by France itself) is that of the French Revolution: storming the Bastille, guillotining aristocrats, Liberté, égalité, fraternité, a secular republic overcoming old constraints of a hidebound Catholic aristocracy and reinventing itself as a Modern Nation. Of course, less than a generation after the Revolution (and this has always amused/puzzled me) France swung straight back into autocratic expansionist empire under Napoleon, and its colonialism efforts continued vigorously alongside its European counterparts throughout the nineteenth and well into the twentieth century. France has never really reckoned with its colonialist legacy either, not least because of a tendency in French public life for a) strong centralization, and b) a national identity that doesn’t really allow for a hyphen. What I mean by that is that while you can be almost anything before “American,” ie. African-American, Latino-American, Jewish-American, Muslim-American, etc, you are (at least in my experience) expected to only be “French.” There is a strong nationalistic identity primarily fueled by language, values, and lifestyle, and the French view anyone who does not take part in it very dimly. That’s why we have the law banning the burka and arguments that it “inhibits” Muslim women from visually and/or emotionally assimilating into French culture. There is a very strong pressure for centralization and conformity, and that is not flexible.

Additionally, the aforementioned French lifestyle identity involves cafe culture, smoking, and drinking alcohol -- all things that, say, a devout Muslim is unlikely to take part in. The secularism of French political culture is another factor, along with the strict bureaucracy and interventionist government system. France narrowly dodged getting swept up in the right-wing populist craze when it elected Emmanuel Macron over Marine Le Pen (and it’s my impression that the FN still remains relatively popular) but it also has a deep-grained xenophobia. I’m sure you remember “French Spiderman,” the 22-year-old man from Mali who climbed four stories of a building in Paris to rescue a toddler in 2018. He was immediately hailed as a hero and allowed to apply for French citizenship, but critics complained about him arriving in France illegally in the first place, and it happened alongside accelerated efforts to deny asylum seekers, clear out the Calais migrant camp, and otherwise maintain a hostile environment. The terror attacks in France, such as 2015 in Paris and the 2016 Bastille Day attack in Nice, have also stiffened public opinion against any kind of accommodation or consideration of non-French (and by implication, non-white) Frenchpeople. The Académie Française is obviously also a very strong linguistic force (arguably even more so than the English-only movement in America) that excludes people from “pure” French cultural status until they meet its criteria. There really is no French identity or civic pride without the French language, so that is also something to take into consideration.

France also has a strong anti-authority and labor rights movement that America does not have (at least the latter). When I was in France, the joke was about the “annual strike” of students and railway workers, which was happening while I was trying to study, and we saw that with the yellow jacket protests as well. Working-class France is used to making a stink when it feels that it’s being disrespected, and while I can’t comment in detail on how the racial element affects that, I know there has been tension and discontent from working-class, racial-minority neighborhoods in Paris about how they’ve been treated (and during the recent French police brutality protests, the police chief rejected any idea that the police were racist, despite similar deaths in custody of black men including another French Malian, Adama Traoré.) All of this adds up to an atmosphere in which race relations, and their impact on French history, is a very fraught subject in which discussions are likely to get heated (as discussions of race relations with Europeans and white people tend to get, but especially so). The French want to be French, and feel very strongly that everyone else in the country should be French as well, which can encompass a certain race-blindness, but not a cultural toleration. There’s French culture, the end, and there isn’t really an accommodation for hybrid or immigrant French cultures. Once again, this is again my impression and experience.

The blind spot of 19th-century French social reformers to colonialism is not unlike Cold War-era America positioning itself as the guarantor of “freedom and liberation” in the world, while horrendously oppressing its black citizens (which did come in for sustained international criticism at the time). Likewise with the American founding fathers including soaring rhetoric about the freedom and equality of all (white) men in the Constitution, while owning slaves. The efforts of (white) social reformers and political activists have refused to see black and brown people as human, and therefore worthy of meriting the same struggle for liberation, for... well, almost forever, and where those views did change, it had to come about as a process and was almost never there to start with. “Scientific” white supremacy was especially the rage in the nineteenth century, where racist and imperialist European intellectuals enjoyed a never-ending supply of “scientific” literature explaining how black, brown, and other men of color were naturally inferior to white men and they had a “duty” to civilize the helpless people of Africa, Asia, Latin America, and so on, who just couldn’t aspire to do it themselves. (This is where we get the odious “white man’s burden” phrase. How noble of them.) So the nineteenth-century social reformers were, in their minds, just doing what science told them to do; slavery abolitionists and other relief societies for black and brown people were often motivated by deeply racist “assimilationist” ideas about making these poor helpless people “fit” for white civilization, at which point racial prejudice would magically end. This might have been more “benevolent” than outright slave-owning racism, but it was no less damaging and paternalistic.

If you’re interested in reading about French colonialism and postcolonialism from a Black French perspective, I recommend Frantz Fanon (who you may have already heard of) and his 1961 magnum opus The Wretched of the Earth/ Les Damnés de la Terre. (There is also his 1952 work, Black Skin, White Masks.) Fanon was born in Martinique, served in World War II, and was part of the struggle for Algerian liberation from France. He was a highly influential and controversial postcolonial theorist, not least for his belief that decolonialization would never be achieved without violence (which, to say the least, unnerved genteel white society). I feel as if France in general needs to have a process of deep soul-searching about its relationship to race and its own imperial history (French Indochina/Vietnam being another obvious example with recent geopolitical implications), because it’s happy to let Britain take the flak for its unexamined and triumphalist imperial nostalgia. (One may remark that of course France is happy to let Britain make a fool of itself and hope that nobody notices its similar sins....) This is, however, currently unlikely to happen on a broad scale for the social and historical reasons that I discussed above, so I really applaud you for taking the initiative in starting that conversation and reaching out for resources to help you in doing it. Hopefully it will help you put the legacy of these particular social reformers in context and offer you talking points both for what they did well and where their philosophy fell short.

If there does come a point of a heightened racial conversation and reckoning in France (and there have been Black Lives Matter protests there in the last few weeks, so it’s not impossible) I would be curious to see what it looks like. It’s arguably one of the Western countries that has least dealt with its racial issues while making itself into the standard-bearer for secular Western liberalism. France has also enthusiastically joined in the EU, whereas Britain has (rather notoriously....) separated from all that, which makes Britain look provincial and isolated while France can position itself as a global leader with a more internationalist outlook. Emmanuel Macron and Angela Merkel are currently leading the effort for the $500 billion coronavirus rescue package for the EU, which gives it a sense of statesmanship and stature. It will be interesting to see how that continues to change and develop vis-a-vis race, or if it does.

Thanks so much for such an interesting question, and I hope that helped!

#history #french history #black history #history of racism #anonymous #ask

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jmeddows2 · 5 years

Text

You (Roger Taylor x fem!Reader)

This is my Halloqueen gift for @mezzomercury Happy belated Halloween! I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it on time,but here it is. I’m really nervous about it ARGHH @dtfrogertaylor Summary: Reader is an opera singer, with a chaotic manager with just the right contacts in the industry Warnings: only a bit of swearing, else we have Fred and Reader become best friends, fluff Word count: 2k+ Notes: sorry for mistakes, english is not my first language Roger is single and childless in this story! The Duck House really exists and Queen used to stay there quite frequently when recording in Montreux :)

You were supposed to get a real job with a purpose, regarding the field you were actually educated in, but Steve, your manager had quite the reputation. Especially in terms of missing dates and mixing things up, making him the chaotic mess of a man that he naturally was. As an opera singer, that’s just started out, you struggled with auditions. Steve’s lack of time management was rather poor, that sometimes he wouldn’t tell you about the most important auditions in time, or miss most of them, because they just weren’t on his radar. If it wasn’t for all the contacts in the industry Steve apparently had, you would have run for the hills ages ago. One day, when Steve waltzed into the office to your meeting, which of course he was again late to, he was restless, jumping from one foot to the other. "I have it. This is going to be IT for you.” He explained it as a project. To 'expand’ your horizon, to fill your CV with something, that would make your future opportunities skyrocket from 0 to 100. .....to stand in for the band Queen as a background singer (in case of use)...... living, food and drinks provided.... is what the contract read ...should not be opposed to beer and fun. Must be flexible and be available to fly out during the time period of recording from June 1981 - March 1982. Place: Montreux, Switzerland. The few black letters on white seemed to get even more ridiculous throughout the over 100 page contract. But also funny. Mainly ridiculous though. Being crammed up in a recording studio in Montreux, Switzerland as an "option of use” wasn’t exactly your idea of a job. Or at least not what you were aiming for at the moment. The numbers with a 5 digit payment that crested the contracts last page, made you rethink the whole deal though, much to Steve’s joy. So you agreed. Your first encounter with Freddie, Brian, John and Roger was weird. Well, not with Freddie, Brian and John. They were all kind and excited to get to know you better. Roger was another thing. He didn’t even look at you or recognize you when you all gathered in one of the temporary Queen offices, to go over all the details. He was too distracted reading through the schedule for the upcoming months. It felt more like he pretended to be interested in the schedule on his lap, while absentmindedly toying with the pen between his fingers. You later found out, that he was dealing with the aftermaths of a really ugly breakup. Montreux, Switzerland You arrived at Geneva airport on a cold January morning, approximately 7 months after your first encounter with the band. Your personal driver was already awaiting you with a sign that read your name in capital letters. He had a wide grin plastered on his face. The exclusivity didn‘t stop there though. The one hour ride from the airport straight to the recording studio in the black limousine felt more like 10 minutes. A bottle of champagne, a few snacks and the heated leather seats in the car that made you feel oh so comfortable, may have been the reason why time passed so quickly. The nervous feeling crept back into your mind, as soon as the driver dropped you off in front of the casino, in which the recording studio was located. The recording studio was situated in the basement. As you pushed the door open, there was only a friendly security guard in the foyer, checking your ID. "Hi love, are you lost?“ It was Roger. His hair was a bit shorter than the last time you‘d seen him. "Oh hi, no actually, I‘m supposed to be here. As a background singer“ The uncertain tone in your voice made it sound more like a question. "uhh, I received a call to come out here. We had a meeting a few months ago“ Roger looked confused, but not bothered by your presence at all. "Well, be my guest then“ he awkwardly shook your hand and gestured for you to make you feel comfortable. "Where are you from uhm?“ "Micaela. Born and raised in New York City“ “A NYC girl? pretty sure you’ve got some stories to tell” he teased. “I’m sure not nearly as many as you” You got right back at him. That was something Roger highly valued. The wit, someone who’s not afraid to speak up. He smiled to himself and soon after Fred, Brian and John entered the studio as well. They each greeted you warmly. Freddie was very excited to have you on board. When he wasn’t busy recording, as a fellow opera enthusiast, him and you always found something to talk about. Or it was rather having Freddie listen to all the stories you had in store, even if it was just a few. It almost felt like telling bed time stories to a child, seeing his dark, beautiful eyes light up, even at the slightest mention of words like ‘stage’, ‘orchestra’, ‘costumes’ or ‘opera’ in general. "I’m going to be honest with you, darling” Freddie said, as he took a seat beside you on the couch, while Roger was banging his drums frustratingly to the already finished guitar and bass backing track of ‘Las Parablas de Amor’ in the recording booth. "We don’t actually need your beautiful vocals here” Freddie patted your thigh gently. "You’re kidding, right? Why am I here then?” "I thought you may enjoy a little holiday out here. You know, there’s great spa resorts around town. And you could do some small assistant work, nothing hard or bad, I promise! No, I promise on Montserrat Caballé, so you really know I’m not joking” he swore. Well, you couldn’t say no now.

Out of nowhere there was a loud crash. You turned around to see Roger tossing his drum sticks across the room, nearly hitting John in the head. Roger continued to throw casette tapes around, that were properly lined up on the shelf nearby. “I’m done with this. It sounds like a cheap piece of crap.” he stormed out of the room. The boys only looked at each other, as if they were communicating through their minds on who’s turn it was now to go after Roger. "I’ll go” you volunteered, seeing as no one else made a move and what could you possibly have to lose? Except for a huge amount of payment. Ok, maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but the other boys looked quite relieved when you got up from your seat. You prepared for the worst, grabbing your coat from the hanger on the door on the way out. It was really cold outside. Roger wasn’t hard to find. He was just outside the building, a cigarette hanging from his lips and rubbing his hands up and down his arms. He certainly wasn’t clever enough to bring a jacket with him, after his dramatic, oscar worthy departure. "Hey” how exactly do you approach an angry person you don’t know, but find really attractive? "Did they send you out here?” a chuckled groan left his lips. “No, I came out here on my own. Want to talk about it?” you suggested. He offered you a cigarette, but you declined.

"Talk about what? about the crap we’ve been recording lately? It’s disco.” he grimaced a pained face. “It sounds like the music they play in gay clubs. I mean don’t get me wrong, I support everyone’s sexuallity, but not everyone’s taste in music! I’m just not made for Disco music. It’s a load of bollocks. God, now I’m just venting” he threw the cigarette on the ground, putting it out with his boots. "I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m actually an opera singer. Not really Rock 'N Roll, is it? Yet I’m here in a recording studio with one of the biggest rock bands.” "Ok you have a point. Why did you agree to do this anyway?” he was shivering, while lighting another cigarette. "Sometimes you make sacrifices for the sake of others, but only as long as you’re feeling comfortable in your own skin ” "God,I hate that you’re right.” he sighed, unable to hold the pout anymore, that was was replaced by a smile forming on his lips. "Now let’s better get back inside before you freeze to death” you gestured for the door. "Just a minute” he grabbed you gently by the arm. "Thank you” Roger hugged you tightly, nuzzling his face into your neck. The feeling of his cold cheeks in contact with your warm skin made you jump a bit. “ Now let’s go and make some disco music” he laughed, grabbing your hand. Expecting another fight and argument by Roger, Brian, Freddie and John were surprised to experiece as calm as he ever was. Stil, you decided to put the recording on hold for the day and locate back to the house, in which you all stayed. "Welcome to Duckingham Palace” when entering the house, you quickly noticed why Roger called it like that. There were hundreds of wooden duck statues situated all around the house. They were evrywhere, quite creepy, but as time passed, they became pretty much invisble to you. Believe it or not.

You all had gathered around the living room with a hot drink in hand, when John lit the fireplace, creating a cosy atmosphere. It felt like you’d known Freddie, Brian, John and Roger since forever, as you seemed to pretty much share the same or at least similiar interests and humor. "Ok now Micaela. Tell me. What’s your favorite Queen album?” John asked curiously while pouring a generous amount of rum into his hot chocolate. "Easy” Freddie answered for you. “Has to be A Day At The Races” you nodded in response. "See? we’re besties already, you guys better step your game up” Freddie threw his arm around your shoulders. Roger couldn’t stop giving you little looks while having a conversation with Brian, who as expected also wasn’t a fan of the new direction in music they were headed at. “ how did you tame the lion, darling?” Freddie chuckled into your ear. " you know..How did you get Roger to calm down so fast? I know how he can get when he’s in a mood” "The cold outside did the job actually” you tried to sound nonchalantly.

"Of course yeah, that’s also why he’s been eyeing you up, ever since we left the studio. Did something happen?” Freddie kept pressing, but in a playful way. "He never gives in so easily. Usually not even to pretty girls like you when he’s mad” Your only answer was a light blush of cheeks. At 2 am, John was the last one to go to sleep. Roger and you literally had to drag him up to his room. He was so plastered, that he didn’t even recognize his own song on the radio. Roger and you decided to sip on one last ‘good night drink’ to reward yourselves for all the hard work of tucking John into bed like a little baby. There was a silence upon you, but it wasn’t awkward at all, just relaxing. "Thank you again for today” Roger broke the silence. "Nothing worth thanking me for” "It is actually. Y'know I’m glad you’re here. You’re going to make this much more bearable for me" you snorted out with laughter, not realizing how serious he was about the words he said. "I’m being honest, love! I really fancy you and I want to get to know you better.” he was so close to you now, you could feel his warmth. "the seaside promenade is really beautiful, almost as beautiful as you.” Roger brought his hand to your hair, to brush a few strands behind your ear. "So, it’s a date then” you nervously drew a circles with your fingertips on the surface of the wooden kitchen counter, while looking into his ocean eyes. "Yeah it’s a date” he smiled at you. You both took your last swigs of your drinks. "Good night Roger” you hugged him tightly and gave him little peck on the cheek, before wandering off to bed, thinking of all the beautiful scenarios the following day would have to offer. Roger followed closely behind, entering his own bedroom. The feeling of your kiss on Roger’s cheek lingered with him, until he fell asleep, thinking of his newly found happiness. You.

#roger taylor #brian may #john deacon #freddie mercury #Queen #queen + Adam Lambert #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor fluff #happy halloqueenevent #happy halloqueen #fluff

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pennywaltzy · 4 years

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(Banner by @strangelock221b)

Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures - It all begins with an invitation to Mycroft’s wedding to his PA and seven days at a resort in Jamaica, with the assumption that Molly pretends to be his girlfriend that his mother might be under the impression that he’s going to propose to sooner rather than later. It ends up being so much more than that…

READ CHAPTER 1 | READ CHAPTER 5 | BUY ME A COFFEE?

It wasn’t until they had arrived at the airport that he realized just how wonderful an actress Molly really was. She was not quite as she had been the last two nights, when there had been plenty of “practice” for them to act as a couple, practice he had quite enjoyed, but she stayed close, always keeping a hand of hers in his or on his arm, smiling brightly at the assorted members of the families who would be traveling with them and, at least for a first impression, pulling off the charade quite nicely. Not that he found it hard to play along; with Molly being the lead in most of the interactions, he simply followed and reacted accordingly.

He was only thankful this group of guests were the ones from London and his parents were not among them. That was the introduction he was dreading the most, as while he was sure his parents would adore Molly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with the “impending” engagement questions just yet. His mother was as tenacious as he was when she wanted something, and what she wanted was the sons she was still talking to to give her grandchildren. She’d succeeded with Mycroft, so now all her attention would be on him.

They settled into their seats on the plane and Molly leaned over with her mouth near his ear. “That seemed to go well,” she said quietly.

“They were an easier audience to trick than my parents will be,” he murmured back.

“Oh, I think your mum will love me,” she said with a smile before kissing his cheek and then reaching for the book she’d taken out of her handbag to read. Molly didn’t quite realize that was among the problems with this charade: his mother would absolutely adore her and when it eventually came time to explain how the relationship had ended, he would be a disappointment in her eyes. Maybe not as much as his eldest brother was, but enough that it would make things decidedly more frosty between them.

Of course, as long as he wasn’t as despised as Sherrinford, he supposed he could tolerate a bit of a cold shoulder from his parents.

He settled further into his seat. It wasn’t often he thought of his eldest brother. There was usually no real reason to. The age difference between the two of them was considerable enough that Sherrinford had been nearly a teenager when he was born, and Mycroft not that far behind. He was considered a blessing by his parents, and a burden to Mycroft, but Sherrinford had never really liked him much, as far as he could tell. Sherrinford was the one in the family who had gotten the innate ability to make people at ease almost immediately, a skill his father had not managed to pass down to either he or Mycroft. It seemed his mother’s brilliance had skipped Sherrinford as a result, and he despised his younger siblings for being the one their mother was proudest of.

To this day he still wasn’t entirely sure of what had caused the rift between his parents and his eldest brother, but he knew it had to do with a large sum of money disappearing from accounts and Sherrinford scampering off in the middle of the night. It was never discussed even when he asked, time and again, and eventually, he simply stopped asking. It was the one mystery he’d decided not to solve in his entire life because, really, he was glad Sherrinford was gone. He had never liked the way Sherrinford treated him, and while his life was not necessarily better once he was gone, it was easier, at least.

He decided he’d done enough ruminating on the past once the plane began its ascent into the air. It had been some time since he was able to fully relax on a trip away from England, probably since early on in his association with John. The trip to Karachi had been fraught with danger and getting Irene to relative safety had been his tantamount priority, and obviously working on destroying the web Moriarty had woven had not been easy of safe. And then the last time he had been on a plane he had purposefully overdosed so that he could concentrate on the case in his head. Whether he had made it to Russia alive had been of little consequence, as he had more drugs on hand in case he’d had to finish the trip, but he was grateful for the second chance.

Not that he would ever admit that, of course.

He’d been surly when it was over, and only dropped the attitude when it had been decided Molly would be there during his withdrawal. He hadn’t seen her since before he had shot Magnussen, and the fact she wasn’t more angry at him for overdosing had been surprising, considering the scene in the lab. But she was there when no one else was, and he’d decided if she would be with him through the worst of it, he would make things better between them. And it was a promise he had done a good enough job keeping since they were in the position they were in now. He doubted even for a trip to Jamaica for free that she would agree to be his girlfriend and potential fiancee, unless possibly it had been for a case.

Still, he should have recognized long before the first night in Baker Street for this charade that his feeling had changed. When they had been curled up on the sofa and she had leaned in for their first kiss, he had been fairly sure he had made a mistake. And he knew he had for certain when she kissed him because he knew he wasn’t going to be able to go back to simply being friends, not after this week. Either he would try his best to convince her to make the fiction a reality, or he would lose the most important person in his life.

Of course, her mixed signals, vacillating between the breakup quip and then the simple kiss on the cheek now did nothing to help him figure out which direction she might go in. Logic was of no help, and they still had the entire week to go. He tried slipping into his mind palace to focus on things related to cases he had abandoned for the week, but he kept turning to look at Molly, completely immersed in her book. He knew that that image was going to be a sight frequently seen in his mind palace for a long time to come.

He hadn’t managed to settle anything in his head by the time they had arrived in Jamaica, and he was a bit cranky when they were deboarded and put into cars to get to the resort. Molly had barely taken her eyes off the book she was reading, and continued to read in the car they shared with his Uncle Harrington.

Of all the members of his family that he had contact with, this particular uncle was the only one he rather liked. His Uncle Rudy had favoured Mycroft, and no one at all had really liked Sherrinford, as far as he could tell, but it had been his Uncle Harrington who had fostered his love of deductive reasoning, sending hard to find books on any subject Sherlock wished from either his own private collection or those of friends and colleagues. There were books that were worth thousands of pounds at Baker Street because Harrington had never asked for them to be returned, always saying you would never know when you needed a good book, and as a literature professor at Oxford, he supposed Harrington knew that lesson well.

“You picked a woman who likes to read,” Harrington said, his voice laced with approval.

“I did,” Sherlock said, relaxing. This would be easy to talk about. He had found Molly’s sterling qualities were something he could expound on for quite a while if needed. He was sure John and Mary were tired of his talking about her, at least. “She has a personal library in her home. Not a large one, but the contents are varied.”

“Medical texts, classical literature, modern pulpy romances, and a few other goodies,” Molly said as she turned in the seat in front of them to join the conversation. She gave Harrington a smile. “Sherlock mentioned you gave him quite a few of the books he has now?”

Harrington nodded. “Mycroft and Sherrinford were interested in learning certain things. William wanted to learn everything. You don’t squander a mind like that by not feeding it with sufficient knowledge.”

Sherlock glowered slightly at the use of his real name but Molly simply nodded. “Oh yes. A beautiful brain like his would go to waste if it was starved in such an unnecessary way.”

Harrington’s smile back at her got brighter. “It’s good to see we see eye to eye,” he replied.

“We certainly do.”

Sherlock watched the two of them launch into a conversation about him and he listened with only mild embarrassment. It was one thing to think highly of himself, but it was another to hear two people discuss him in such high regard. He wasn’t used to that; while he knew Mary adored him, she didn’t have these kinds of discussions with her husband in front of him. Lestrade usually didn’t need to defend him anymore so he didn’t, and while he was used to Molly saying a few kind words, this was different. Perhaps he had made up for the trouble he had caused her after all.

By the time they arrived at the resort Harrington and Molly were quite deep in a conversation about the intricacies of Austen’s works, and it was because he had tuned out their conversation he saw his brother exit out of his car with a smile that quickly dropped to a scowl. It only took seconds for his attention to shift in the same direction, and he knew his own expression was similar.

“Brother dear,” Sherrinford Holmes said from where he had been smoking a cigarette. Then he spotted Sherlock as well. “And you too.”

“Sherrinford,” Mycroft said, his tone steely. “Why are you here?”

“Mummy invited me, as an attempt to mend some broken fences,” he said. “She’s getting settled but you know me.” He held up the cigarette. “Bad habit.”

“Bloody hell,” Sherlock heard his uncle say quietly as Sherlock reached over for Molly’s hand.

“Who is that?” Molly asked.

“My eldest brother,” he said, watching as Sherrinford’s gaze swept back to him and then to Molly. His eyes widened and then got brighter, and Sherlock decided then and there he would show Molly was not to be looked at in that way by anyone other than him. He turned to face her and leaned in, kissing her soundly, feeling her knees buckle slightly as he set his hands on her waist to keep her up. When she pulled away to catch her breath she looked up at him, speechless. “Why don’t you and Andrea go find out where we’re staying in the resort?”

Molly caught on quickly, giving him a dazzling smile as she went in for her own kiss, giving him one that was nearly as breathtaking as it was unexpected. “I’ll make sure the bed is adequate,” she said with a wink in Sherrinford’s direction before she and Andrea headed inside.

“So the tabloids weren’t lying?” Sherrinford asked with a smirk. “Wonder how you kept her under wraps. She’s got quite a nice...” His smirk widened.

“Go back to whatever hole you’ve been hiding in,” Mycroft said, his tone more flat and hostile than before.

“And miss out on the wedding of my brother? Never,” he said. “Get used to it, Mycroft. I’m here and I think I’d like to have a bit of fun.” He walked away from his brothers then, putting his cigarette to his lips and inhaling.

Mycroft moved closer to Sherlock as their uncle made his way in the same direction the women had. “He’s trouble,” Sherlock said.

“Oh, he always was,” Mycroft said. “I think we’ll need to put aside our pettiness and make sure he doesn’t do anything that will ruin this for any of us.” Mycroft held out his hand to Sherlock. “Agreed?”

Sherlock nodded, shaking his brother’s hand. “Agreed.” Just what neither of them needed, he thought to himself. Complications...

#sherlock #sherlolly #mythea #fanfic #fanfiction #sherlock holmes #molly hooper #mycroft holmes #ocs #multipart: desperate times call for desperate measures

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fenriael · 5 years

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Too Much Information: Character Interview - Valien Gelus

Thank you for tagging me, @sheirukitriesfandom! I really enjoyed reading about your Rashkan. I was a bit delayed filling this out because of RL, but I had good fun doing this (I hope I filled it out right, it was my first time doing one of these things XD).

I chose Valien, one of my favourite ESO OCs. Valien is my Altmer ice battle mage, and his other half is Kathariel, a half Altmer, half Bosmer priestess of Auri-el with an affinity for fire magic. They are the pair currently featuring in my blog’s banner together in the snow :)

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A tall, relatively broad-shouldered Altmer gentleman of advancing years whose golden face carries scars from many battles. His long, sleek, silver-white hair is carefully tied back, but hangs loose at the shoulders. His robes are simple, but elegant, charcoal grey with pale blue accents. He wears a sword at his side and a faint icy chill permeates the air as he studies you piercingly with pale grey eyes.

Name -> “Lord Valien, of the house of Gelus.”

“We are called the house of Gelus because it is said we are born with ice in our veins,” Lord Valien explains, lifting his hand in explanation as frost slowly creeps from the tips of slender golden fingers to the wrist. He smiles thinly. “There is, as with all good family stories, a modicum of truth to be found in those tales.”

Are you single? -> Valien leans back in his chair, raising an eyebrow.

“A curious question. I have in recent years found myself fortunate enough to spend my time with a most wonderful young woman by the name of Kathariel,” he explains with a slight smile, although it then fades a little.

“I am, of course, still married. It was an arranged affair, as is often the case for important marriages in Altmer society. While we found each other’s company agreeable at first, as the years passed, we became rather…well, different people, shall we say.” Valien smiles ruefully. “Despite how some of our people may speak, just because the star alignments or family pedigree predict an auspicious marriage, does not mean it will be so.”

“We are, however, still on cordial terms, although we find that maintaining a certain degree of distance has aided in producing a suitable working partnership for the purpose of maintaining strong family alliances.”

Are you happy? -> “In recent years, yes, very much so. It was not always the case, however.”

Are you angry? -> “I am I an angry person? No, not as such. But in the past, some bitterness on my part resulted in the unfortunate habit of distancing myself from those I should have shown more affection for,” he explains quietly, appearing more than a little uncomfortable. “In addition, I am not known to suffer fools terribly well,” he then adds more convivially, and gives a rueful chuckle. “The soldiers formally under my command would likely attest to that! But I think most would have agreed not unfairly so, under the circumstances. I hope so, at any rate.”

Are your parents still married? -> “No, not anymore, but that is perhaps unsurprising given my age.”

NINE FACTS

Birth Place? -> “My family’s main estate, nestled in the foothills of Eton Nir.”

Hair Colour? -> Silver-white.

Eye Colour? -> Pale grey-blue, comparable to the pallor of the clouds before a snowstorm.

Birthday? -> “I was born early in the month of First Seed, under the sign of the Lord, and incidentally when the first of the snowdrops had begun to bloom that year. In terms of age, I can tell you to begin with that I am more than old enough to recall Master Vanus Galerion forming that troublesome mages guild of his,” Valien grumbles good-naturedly. “Will that suffice?”

Mood?-> “I think I most likely covered this above?”

Gender? -> “Male.”

Summer or winter? -> Valien’s mouth twitches upwards in amusement. “I would have thought the answer to that question obvious. Winter, of course. Though,” he then adds, expression softening. “There is something also to be said for the summer also is there not? After all, my beloved would say there is room in our lives for all seasons equally, and I daresay she is correct.”

Morning or afternoon?-> “I prefer being up early. I do rather dislike any day that I am being unproductive in. Although, Kathariel is very fond of reminding me I should be more restful.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

Are you in love? -> “I believe I have mentioned Kathariel already?” Valien replies with slight smile. “She was a priestess in a monastery of Auri-el that I was brought to after sustaining some quite severe injuries. Later, she was instrumental in aiding my binding ritual to finally put to rest the evil that had left me with the injuries in the first place. I would not have survived either ordeal without her. She chose to leave the monastery to join my household afterwards, and has been part of my life ever since.”

Do you believe in love at first sight? ->“I think love at first sight is a concept best left to the young and foolishly impulsive,” Valien replies, frowning slightly. “Although,” he then adds after a pause, “I must say, from the day I met Kathariel she stood out in my mind; it has not forgotten her since. So perhaps I should not be quite so quick to dismiss such notions.”

Who ended your last relationship?-> “With my wife? We grew apart, or perhaps I should say the differences that were always between us grew more and more apparent as the years went by.”

Have you ever broken someone’s heart? -> “I highly doubt it.” He replies bluntly. “What is your next question?”

Are you afraid of commitments? -> Valien’s eyes narrow slightly, and then he sighs heavily. “I am…hesitant to dedicate myself to partnerships unless the person in question is truly of a like mind to my own. I spent too many years in the unfortunate company of politically-motivated sycophants whose only interest was in my family bloodline. It was a most wearying state of affairs.”

Have you hugged someone within the last week? -> Valien reaches down and scratches the head of a young griffin draped across his feet, snoring gently. “Why yes, of course,” he replies with a chuckle, indicating the feathered creature with amusement.

Have you ever had a secret admirer? -> “Not that I am aware of.”

Have you ever broken your own heart? -> Valien shifts slightly in his chair. “Perhaps we should move onto the next question, yes?”

SIX CHOICES

Love or lust? -> “Why not both?”

Lemonade or iced tea? -> “I’m very fond of teas, either hot or cold.”

Cats or Dogs? -> “As a general rule I find animals of any type far more agreeable than most mer I encounter.”

A few best friends or many regular friends? -> “I cannot say I know many whom I would consider to be close friends, in truth. But there is Kathariel, of course; there is also my youngest brother who, despite his unnatural and frankly unsettling love of opera music and his utterly mistaken belief that he is capable of singing, has time and time again provided most trustworthy and sensible council in my travels.”

“At one time I would have also considered my middle brother a friend also, but I fear that time has since past. He was formally a revelator-naganwe, a death seer, but in his grief he found himself reaching for magics he should not have reached for, and performing experiments that crossed too many lines. He chose to distance himself from the rest of the family to avoid ill-will to befall our household; Altmer society is not forgiving of Graxifalas – disgraceful - behaviour.”

Wild night out or romantic night in? -> “I prefer quiet evenings. I am not one for excessive drink or large gatherings.”

Day or night? -> “Day or night? That would depend,” he replies with a smirk, “on the nature of the activities in mind.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

Been caught sneaking out? -> Valien scoffs at the question. “Not since I was a lot younger and a lot more foolish than I am now.”

Fallen down/up the stairs? -> “If there are no witnesses then it did not happen, correct?”

Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? -> “Most certainly.”

Wanted to disappear? -> “Oh yes, quite frequently,” Valien mutters sullenly. “From court banquets, the many social gatherings my wife enjoys hosting in our halls, from any event whatsoever that claims to be held in celebration of my name day.” He sighs despairingly. “Did I mention I was not terribly fond of social gatherings?”

FOUR PREFERENCES

Smile or eyes? -> “It seems a pity to choose, when both can be so enrapturing.”

Shorter or Taller? -> “Well, I cannot say I have a personal preference. Kathariel is however noticeably shorter than myself, being that I am taller than average and she is of part Bosmeri heritage.”

Intelligence or Attraction? -> “Intelligence, certainly. I would not wish to be involved with someone who I could not have a lively debate with.”

Hook-up or Relationship? -> “I cannot say I enjoy casual dalliances by any means. “

FAMILY

Do you and your family get along? -> “I believe I have already explained my relationship to my wife.” Valien pauses slightly. “As for my son and daughter, I have always loved them greatly, though I fear they regarded me as rather a distant figure in their youth. I have tried to make amends for this more recently. I also have a young granddaughter, and she is the apple of my eye, so to speak.”

Would you say you have a “messed up life”? -> “Not particularly. At times complicated, however, but then that is true of many people’s lives.”

Have you ever run away from home? -> “There were many years I chose to spend away from my household in my role as a battle-reeve, and so in a manner of speaking, yes. There were times when I should have returned home, but I did not. I believed that the work I was doing would benefit them undoubtedly more than my presence at home would. Now my children are fully grown, and I regret that choice greatly. We have at least, had the opportunity to grow closer of late, and for that I am most grateful. ”

Have you ever gotten kicked out? -> “I have not.”

FRIENDS

Do you secretly hate one of your friends -> “Certainly not?”

Do you consider all of your friends good friends -> “Yes, of course.”

Who is your best friend -> “My beloved Kathariel.”

Who knows everything about you -> “Kathariel, undoubtedly,” he replies with a slight smile. “I never expected to find someone who I would share my life with in such a way, but it has been a blessing indeed.”

I think I’m now supposed to tag more people now If I understand correctly? @mutantenfisch, @forevervobla @taergalive, @sadmagecentral I hope it’s ok if I tag you all (not sure about the etiquette for this kinda thing)?

#my oc #Valien Gelus #elder scrolls #teso #eso #Altmer #mage #ask meme #my writing

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xlonelysoulxx · 5 years

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Which Type Are You: Alpha, Beta or Omega?

Alpha Male: The Alpha male is the most desirable man of all, the one who is good-looking, the leader of the pack, a poison for all women and the one who runs his business so well that all of his business partners are jealous of him for all those clever ideas he has. A man like this is a born leader, so when he speaks, the rest of the people around him keep their mouths shut. He is always at the center of attention and when he is talking, people look like someone put a spell on them. All of the people in his company tend to feel good because he is good enough to ask them to join him and all of them, including his superiors, are amazed by the ideas he can think of at very short notice. A man like this is definitely someone who loves social gatherings and who enjoys being the star of every discussion. He likes to be among people and he hates when he is all alone. In that way, he feels all drained, like he doesn’t have any energy left, which is why he tries to always be out with his friends, telling some funny jokes so they can all laugh and enjoy life.

He likes his freedom the most in the world and he doesn’t want to sacrifice it, no matter what. When he sees a woman he is attracted to, he doesn’t hesitate and he approaches her immediately, not giving her time to refuse him. From a man like this, you will always hear some cute pick-up lines that will make any woman fall for him. And when I say fall for him, I mean fall really hard. Because that is the only way women fall for guys like this. Regarding all this that you have read, you can conclude that this type of a personality is the most attractive and appealing and that both women and men want to be Alphas. But that title is reserved only for those lucky ones and I just hope that you are one of them!

Alpha Female: Okay, let’s get one thing straight—if you are an Alpha female you are a fucking rock star, a mix of Jennifer Aniston and Milla Jovovich.Alpha women have beauty, charm, intelligence and they know how to handle difficult situations very well. They are the type of woman every man would love to have but that doesn’t mean that she will accept just any proposal for dating or marriage. She knows her worth and she is just fine being on her own. She is always bossy and sarcastic in some situations but she is also progressive. And the best part is that the rest of the women look at her like she is a God, just waiting for what she has to say so they can also act like that. She is someone who thinks with her own head, not really listening to what other people have to say. Also, the good thing about her is that she is really emotional but she never reveals her true face.

A woman like this has been hurt before and that’s why she doesn’t want to let people do it to her again. So she remains peaceful beneath her mask of a strong woman. In business, she is a beast who can get whatever she wants, whenever she wants it. In romantic relationships, in most cases, she is the one who makes the first move but that is totally normal for her to do.Also, she is not intimidated by strong guys and she will tell them what she thinks, no matter the circumstances. A woman like this is something that most women want to be or become but it is something that you have or don’t have. You need to be born with the characteristics of an alpha female and it is not really something that you can learn during your life. So, all of you who recognized yourself in these words, congratulations because nature gave you something that most women crave all their lives.

Beta Male: Here we are, talking about Beta personality guys, who are as good as Alphas but with a few more emotions and feelings. So, let’s define the word ‘Beta’ from the start. What does that mean? Well, put simply, Beta guys are all those nice guys who you want to meet one day, to marry one. They are the kind of guys you want to have kids with and when you meet one, you will have the feeling that he can be your best friend and your lover at the same time. A Beta male is shy, emotional, responsible and moderate. They are easily embarrassed and not quite sure about their looks or their personality. If you see a guy who is just keeping quiet and smiling from time to time while his other friends talk and tell funny jokes, he must be a Beta male. He feels comfortable enough to go out with his friends and to have a good time but when it comes to talking, he isn’t quite sure that he can do that well.In fact, he is scared that he will say something wrong in front of the girls and that he will embarrass himself. And when he is with the guys, he doesn’t want to tell them all kinds of stuff because he knows that if he reveals his true feelings, they will tease him about that.

In his business, he is always the reliable one but his bosses don’t see his potential and he doesn’t get all those promotions and rewards when he should. In romantic relationships, he is always faithful, so nowadays, many women choose to marry this kind of guy because he is hubby material. All in all, he is more down to earth than an Alpha male and it is much easier to form a stable relationship with him.

Beta Female: A Beta female is like the good sister of an Alpha female. She is the one who does all those things that nobody else wants to do and somehow she always gets less attention than an Alpha female. She is some sort of a Bridget Jones type of person—the one who never gets what she really craves. She is reliable, a good friend and a good listener.A woman like this makes for an amazing best friend and she is always there for her loved ones. She can be passive-aggressive but she always goes with the flow. She thinks that it is better if she doesn’t react like she feels because in that way she can prevent fights. Women like this are nurturing and they often don’t think that they are attractive.They always think that nobody will like them so when someone compliments them, they get really surprised. They are really anxious about competing with other women, so they tend to end up with someone they don’t like so much just because they don’t want to be alone.

In business, women like this always go the extra mile and they sacrifice their spare time for things they have to finish for their work. In romantic relationships, most of the time they are scared to make the first move and they wait for guys to do that. They just think they are not good enough for a man and they don’t have enough courage to make the first move. But all in all, they have a very nice personality and they are not mean. What they have is what they have earned with their own efforts and nobody can take that away from them.

Omega Male: An Omega male is a healthy combination of all the good things that Alphas and Betas have. Just like the Alpha male, he is the leader in his relationships, being the dominant one all the time. When he is in love, he sets some strong boundaries and never crosses them. He is not the type of guy that women can twist around their little fingers but he gives them all that they need for a happy relationship. His main priority is to make his woman safe and comfortable but he also needs her to give him all those things too. He is the kind of guy every Omega female will settle for because in the end, you attract what you are. In his business, he doesn’t want to be a team player as he would rather do things alone.

Once he gets great results, he is proud of himself and he shows his happiness to his co-workers, showing them that he is clever enough for the real deal. Sometimes he doesn’t know what he stands for and when things don’t happen like he imagined, he thinks that it is the fault of other people.In business, he thinks that he is the smartest one, saying that the whole system would fall apart without him. In romantic relationships, he is difficult to catch and more difficult to handle. He has a twisted idea of love and he only wants his desires and needs to be satisfied. He is not a good giver and when he gives something, he immediately wants a better thing as his reward. He is hard to please so most women don’t like to go on dates with him. He often ends up alone just because he isn’t willing to listen to his partner.

Omega Female: A woman like this doesn’t like to mingle and she will spend most of her time alone. She is a highly intelligent woman and she is not afraid to show that to others. Just like an Omega male, social gatherings are not her cup of a tea and she instead stays home alone and thinks up some brilliant ideas. The problem with women like this is that they are generally overlooked but that doesn’t mean that they are not diamonds in the rough. When something does not go the way she imagined, she can actually have a nervous breakdown and totally fall apart.In their private life, they tend to be a little bit messy and lazy. In business, she is the type of a person who always put others first and she is always there to help them and to share her knowledge. She always shows everyone that she is her own person and that she actually doesn’t care about other people’s opinions.

When she is in love, she wants it all or nothing at all. She wants to experience the kind of love people write books about but she is not someone who goes all in if she sees that it is not the real deal. No matter how much she loves a man, she will put herself first because she knows that if she can’t make herself happy, she won’t be able to do so with other people either. A woman like this is definitely worth knowing because you can learn so many smart things from her. The most important thing about her is that no matter how rough she can pretend to be, deep down she is still that little girl who is just fighting in this world full of wolves.

#omega #about me #<33333 #not mine!#types of people #personality types #tag yourself #tag game #games #alpha #beta #words #text #personal #me

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