#I suppose it's a question of using things we think are unacceptable when others do them

[celluloidbroomcloset]

I was thinking about the idea that homophobia doesn't exist in the world of Our Flag Means Death. I think it's clear that this is not the case, but it is a more complicated issue than what we think of when we discuss straightforward homophobia, and is closely aligned with how the different worlds represented in the show perceive sex, love, and desire.

(Before I get going, I want to be clear that I'm discussing the world of the show itself, not the world of the historical Caribbean in the 18th Century. Our Flag Means Death primarily uses history as a useful lens through which to filter our own time period and the things it wants to discuss, and so only uses history when it serves the show's purposes. These are all just my thoughts - I'm always happy to discuss them!)

There are two major worlds at play in the show: the English gentry that Stede comes from, and the pirate world. In neither world is homosexuality explicitly treated as illicit or unacceptable, though it is never mentioned or shown in the English world. Most of the homophobia expressed by characters lies in the perceptions of the "right" and "wrong" ways of performing gender and sexual roles. I talked about this a bit here in regards to Izzy's homophobia.

In both the English and the pirate worlds, Stede's gender presentation is openly questioned. Stede is a fop - not necessarily a sexual marker one way or the other - but he's also, in the words of the show, soft. His father labels him a "weak-hearted, soft-handed, lily-livered little rich boy" who has never done a "man's work," blanches at the sight of blood, and is only inheriting his power from better, more masculine men.

Within the world of the show, Stede occupies a role typically reserved for female characters, in which he's sold in marriage to build his family's wealth. His romantic desire to marry for love is knocked down; it doesn't matter if he loves Mary or she loves him, or if there is even any desire on either side, because the whole point is to unite their wealth and produce heirs to carry on that wealth.

In Stede's memories, the shift from getting married to having children is instantaneous. Sex is implied, but it barely exists for him - it was simply something that he had to do to fulfill his part. Again, this casts Stede in a role often reserved for female characters in fiction. The function of sex, in the English world, is procreation. Desire hardly enters into it, and love certainly doesn't. So it is likely that Stede's only sexual experiences are ones without desire and without love. They are simply to fulfill a function.

Pirate society is significantly more open when it comes to expression of sexuality, but it is still steeped in sexual roles and requirements. Stede's outward queerness marks him out, but it's his inward queerness and how that integrates his emotional core that makes him unacceptable within the masculine hierarchy represented by Izzy and Calico Jack.

I've gone into Izzy's toxic masculinity and hatred of Stede's gender presentation elsewhere, but to reiterate briefly - Izzy's biggest problem with Stede is that Stede does not occupy the correct gender role within the masculine hierarchy, nor does he occupy a properly defined sexual role. He is, in Izzy's view, supposed to be submissive to a dominant male, and he's anything but. He breaks the rules of piracy and he breaks the rules of masculinity, without seeming to be aware that there are rules to break (at least in the pirate world). Stede is "wrong" in Izzy's understanding of masculinity and homosexuality, just as he is wrong in the Badmintons'/his father's understanding.

It is Stede's breaking of those rules that attract Ed to him in the first place. He doesn't act like a pirate should. He's strange. He's off-script. He's...queer. That queerness draws Ed in - far from being repelled by it, as Izzy thinks he should be, he's fascinated by it. Stede's softness and gentleness are things that Blackbeard should either reject or attempt to dominate, and he does neither.

What comes out in Stede and Ed's interactions is that Ed himself doesn't just desire softness, but is soft himself. Beneath the masculinity he puts on, he wants to be touched with kindness, he wants to be embraced. One of Stede's first questions is if he "fancies a fine fabric." When Ed says he does, Stede doesn't laugh at him or view this as un-masculine. He shows Ed as many fine fabrics as he can, excited to finally have another man with whom to exchange this love.

Ed also wants to be submissive without being hurt. He gets Stede to stab him in a performance of sex, but the act implies even more than that - that sex and pain are closely related in the pirate world, tied to sexual roles (men who penetrated and men who are penetrated). But Stede, once more, is a gentle man who penetrates. He doesn't see the stabbing as a sexual act, nor does he get a sexual thrill from causing Ed pain. Ed submits to a man who cares that he's being hurt, and it is this softness that Ed wants and is, as yet, unable to ask for.

(It is notable that, when Ed recalls the stabbing in "Fun and Games," his main memory is of Stede's look of concern.)

The role of sex, love, and desire in the pirate world is made clearest with Calico Jack, far and away the most explicit representation of a pirate's toxic masculinity, who also highlights the reading of sex as about power and pain, not love. Calico Jack and Stede's conversation is the first time that sexual relationships between men is actually raised, in explicit and vulgar terms as Jack asks Stede if he and Ed are "buggering each other" and tells Stede "Blackie and I have had our dalliances."

Jack views Stede's response as being ashamed, but we see clearly that it's not shame but anger. Stede doesn't like who Ed is with Jack, and he doesn't like Jack's vulgarity, simplifying sex, and especially sex with Edward Teach, down to pure functions, not expressive of love or desire, just as they are in the English world. Jack's attitude that this is simply what men do to (not even with) other men when they are at sea, and he's proving his dominance by telling Stede that he's done it with Ed.

Stede is not ashamed at the assumption that he and Ed are having sex, but angry at the implication that sex between them would be "buggery" and "dalliance," not love (and, what's more, that Ed would be treated as a thing instead of a person by another man).

Stede's queerness is part of his emotional core - it is not a whim. It is not something he can discard or mask, regardless of how he dresses or behaves. It is not something that just "goes at sea," or that can be reduced to functions. It is integral to himself, and so he's been completely unable to conceal it from being perceived in either the English or the pirate world, though he has tried very hard to conceal it from himself.

Ed has also tried to conceal the emotional reality of his queerness via his performance as Blackbeard, turning it outward as violent games between men, without softer emotions. It is with Stede that his own emotional core is revealed, and the big mean pirate is shown to be a man who wants to be held and touched, to be submissive without being shamed or harmed.

They allow each other to be vulnerable, to move beyond their worlds' insistence on sex as being purely a function and to unite it with love and desire. Their romance develops out of friendship and a powerful emotional understanding that claims softness as strength.

Neither Stede nor Ed are acceptable in worlds dominated by toxic masculinity and controlled by rules of masculine hierarchy and power. But they are acceptable on the Revenge, filled with a crew of the "worst pirates in the world," all of whom openly, and increasingly, express fluid gender and sexual roles and identities that shift with relationships and feelings. Both are aligned with the queer liberation of the Revenge, itself shaped by Stede's ethos of kindness and breaking the "culture of violence" of piracy, but they have to break out of their worlds' underlying homophobia to find their way to each other.

#ofmd #ofmd season 1 #stede bonnet #edward teach #ed teach #gif #ofmd meta #our flag means death #queer liberation #rhys darby #taika waititi #my wee thoughts #long post

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

Hi, I hope you're having a blessed Good Friday and Holy Week. I have a heavy question that may be difficult to answer but I'm hoping you could provide some insight.

How do I lean on Jesus to keep me strong in an abusive situation? I am a closeted trans guy living with alt-right conservative family. I am doing my best to escape the situation but for now I'm stuck. It feels impossible to stay strong knowing these people already hate me, and would hate me even more if they knew my true and actual self. They're supposed to love me, we're family, but they never have. I want to be like Jesus and love them no matter what, and I want to forgive them, but I don't know how. I feel like I can't forgive what they do when it's continuous and they are not sorry. Can you point me in the direction of any verses or lessons that can help me stay strong in the face of pain and hurt?

TW: unaccepting family, conservative family

Ach, so sorry I didn't see this till now. My heart aches for you in this painful situation. I will be holding you in my prayers; may God enfold you in love and courage to get through this time, and send support your way to help you out. If there is anything I can do to help you get out of this current living situation, please let me know.

The fact that you want to show forgiveness to people who have failed to give you the love and care you deserve shows what a big heart and courageous spirit you have. It's a powerful thing to go through hurt and still seek grace even for the ones who hurt you. That kindness is a rare and precious gift; hang on to it for the future, when there will be people in your life who are actually open to receiving and responding to your kindness.

In the meantime, you are correct in pointing out the impossibility of forgiveness when the ones who hurt you are still hurting you, probably have no plans to stop any time soon, and haven't shown any remorse. Despite how mainstream Christianity has watered down the concept of forgiveness into an abstract statement, to a one-off, simple "forgive and forget :)" attitude, that is not actually the kind of forgiveness that Jesus instructs us in.

Mainstream Christian culture has warped forgiveness into a weapon against the wronged, pressuring them to "just move on" so we don't have to live in the discomfort and challenge of dismantling the kind of power dynamics that allow for harm to take place.

Meanwhile when Jesus taught forgiveness, about reconciliation between a wrongdoer and the one they've wronged, his challenge was to the wrongdoer. It was up to them to show remorse and seek forgiveness, to show they'd actually changed by lowering themselves to an equal field with the one wronged so that the harm can never happen again.

In this post, I talk more about Jesus's idea of forgiveness, and discuss how one might "love one's enemies" as Jesus instructs even when forgiving them is not possible.

One thing that has stood out to a lot of people is that when Jesus was going through his greatest agony, being tortured and murdered on a Roman cross, his words of forgiveness are not "I forgive these people who are in the midst of murdering me" but "Father, forgive them." When we are unable to forgive for any reason, that isn't sinful or a sign of weak faith or any such nonsense. It's recognizing the complicated realities of relationship, where reconciliation isn't the responsibility of the person being wronged. And we can let go of any sense of burden on us to do the forgiving — ultimately, that's not our job, but God's.

___

As you survive this difficult situation, I think about Jesus' fraught relationship with his own biological family. His situation was much different from yours — we know his parents did love him, as did his cousin John, and presumably other family members as well. But they didn't always understand him, and they didn't always accept him. They wanted him to be what they expected him to be, not live into who he truly was.

In Mark 3, as Jesus is gaining steam as a teacher and healer, some of his family gets worried about the fame he's gaining — they say, "he's out of his mind!" and seek to "seize control of him." They think what he preaches is some kind of mental illness, and they're either embarrassed of or scared for him. Jesus, come back home! What will people think?? Don't you know what they're saying about our family??

When people tell Jesus his mother and siblings have arrived, he retorts,

“Who is my mother? Who are my siblings?” Looking around at those seated around him in a circle, he said, “Look, here are my mother and my brothers. Whoever does God’s will is my brother, sister, and mother.”

Jesus recognizes that family is much deeper than blood; that family is about who supports you in your God-given identity and gifts, and helps you grow into the person God created you to be. When biological family fails to do that, your family becomes anyone who does not fail you.

Jesus knew, at least to some extent, some of the pain you are going through in being misunderstood by your own kin. I pray that one day you will be surrounded with an outpouring of love, with people who celebrate all that you are. For now, know that God is that supportive presence holding you close, even when you can't feel Them.

As the psalmist in Psalm 27:10 says, "Even if my father and mother left me all alone, Holy God would take me in." To me, that whole Psalm can be read as a message of encouragement to those currently in the closet — the psalmist experiences God giving them shelter in God's own dwelling place, tucking them away "in a secret place in God's own tent."

One day, you'll be free; for now, I hope you take comfort in knowing God is with you in the closet.

Sending you love and solidarity, anon. May you find moments of joy in the midst of this pain; may God lavish you in love and courage until you're able to leave. <3

#forgiveness #trauma #family tag #in the closet

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern AU) - Food

Witchers were known for being tough. For being able to survive conditions a normal human would not be able to. Witchers were stronger, more resilient, resistant to disease, and able to heal faster than humans.

Their bodies were altered to survive on little food, water, and sleep, and to be able to metabolize the poisons they drank to fight. It was very hard to poison a Witcher. They were made to keep going.

Geralt was no exception. When he was on the Path, he could drive for days without proper sleep (sometimes no sleep), and he would only stop for food when he absolutely had to.

Before he started living with Yennefer and Jaskier, it was just him, alone, so he didn't really worry too much about eating and sleeping regularly. He could eat what he wanted, when he wanted, which, admittently was usually a sandwich or microwave item from a gas station. And only when he had enough money after buying fuel.

But then he met Jaskier, and things changed. He aquired an old van so Jaskier wouldn't have to sleep in the dirt on the side of the road, or crammed in the small truck Geralt had been driving. He had to stop more often so Jaskier could eat, or get a decent amount of sleep.

Geralt was a little annoyed at first. He wasn't used to stopping so often. He was a 'We aren't stopping until we get there' kind of guy, but now he had a fragile human to keep alive, so he grudgingly started making regular stops so Jaskier could get something to eat.

Gas stations became unacceptable food sources after a janky sandwich left Jaskier violently ill. Jaskier convinced Geralt (between bouts of vomiting) that eating (real, safe food) regularly was a good thing. Just because he could survive on little food (or suspicious gas station food), didn't mean it was a healthy thing to do.

"Why shouldn't Witchers eat well, Geralt? Why shouldn't they get a decent amount of sleep and take care of themselves?"

"Hm,"

"Because they're Witchers? That's a sh*t argument, Geralt."

"You keep your swords in excellent shape. You make sure they are clean, sharp, and in good repair. You should do the same for your body."

"Hmm."

Geralt thought about it, and admitted to himself that Jaskier was correct. Some of his contracts would not have been nearly as hard if he had been well rested and had been eating better.

He started making sure that he and Jaskier ate regular meals. If it was a quick stop, he made sure it was food from a deli, or other reputable place with actual sanitary food handling standards.

Although sometimes all they could get was questionable gas station food.

Jaskier *holding up two sandwiches*: "Geralt, would you like explosive diarrhea or projectile vomiting?"

Geralt: " I'll take the projectile vomiting."

And then he met Yennefer, and they decided to move in with Jaskier at his house in Oxenfurt.

At first Geralt stuck to his old habits of eating only when he was really hungry and he absolutely had to eat.

He started keeping a small hoard of food in his room. He couldn't really explain why. It was mostly bags of beef jerky, crisps, and granola bars. There were also a few honey buns sprinkled in.

He got over it after Yennefer caught him trying to replenish his hoard.

"Are you actually hoarding food? Like a f***ing hamster?"

"We have food, Geralt! And don't think I haven't noticed you not eating properly!"

"Well, maybe if you would f***ing eat with us three times a day you wouldn't be hungry."

You're supposed to eat three meals every day, you plank! And eat real food, not this junk!"

"You aren't on the Path, and even when you are, you don't have to worry about money for food, so you don't have to starve yourself."

You can keep your snack hoard, but you're going to join Jaskier and I for every meal, or there will be consequences. Do you hear me, Geralt? Consequences!"

"And give me one of those honey buns, I love those things."

Thus, after a brief adjustment period, Geralt got used to the idea of eating regularly. It was odd, sitting down to three full meals every day. He had been so used to being hungry all the time, that it was strange to...not be.

After a few months of eating well, Geralt noticed that his hair and skin looked better too. And then he noticed something else.

He was stood in front of the mirror in his room, studying his reflection. He turned this way and that, and looked at how his usually very well-defined muscles where kind of...soft looking.

Geralt had been concerned and mentioned it to Yennefer. The witch had rolled her eyes and told him he was being silly.

"You aren't supposed to look like a shrink wrapped string of footballs, Geralt. Normal people have a layer of fat under their skin that is supposed to be there!"

"Hm!"

"A Dad Bod? That's not a Dad Bod! And even if it was, so what? What's wrong with a Dad Bod?"

"Hmmm!"

"Oh, for f**k's sake! You aren't overweight, you muppet! You finally don't look like a starving wolf! Good gods, those don't even count as love handles!"

"Hm..."

"Stop being ridiculous! You aren't supposed to look like you've been vacuum sealed. That's just an unhealthy body standard pushed by idiots and morons."

Geralt wasn't terribly convinced at first, but he eventually realized that Yennefer was right. He decided he liked this new body. He noticed that he had more energy, fighting monsters was easier, he was recovering from toxicity more quickly, and he just overall felt so much better.

He did end up with a Dad Bod after putting on some extra weight over the winter when there was nothing much to do but sit around or go to friends and family for holiday celebrations with lots of food.

Geralt got to experience his first food coma that winter. They had gone to Madeleine's house for the winter solstice. She and Yennefer had made lots of food. Geralt had passed out on Madeleine's couch, with crumbs on his shirt front, gravy on his cheek, and his belt and the button on his pants undone to make room for his overly full belly.

More than a few comemorative photos had been taken while he'd slept.

He was self-concious after gaining the extra weight, but Yennefer and Jaskier never made fun of him, or made any derogatory comments. They never commented at all about his love handles, or the extra padding on his belly, which was kind of starting to loom over his waistband. In fact, they seemed to like this 'squishy' Geralt.

They were constanly huggng him, or snuggling up with him on the couch while they watched the telly. Sometimes they even made him lay on the floor and used him as their personal heated cushion.

There was just something comfortable and nice about a soft, warm Witcher belly! It was better than any old pillow or couch cushion.

Sometimes they even fought over who was going to get first pick of what part of him they were going to cuddle.

"You got to put your head on his pillowy boobs last time, Yen!"

"Yeah, well you got to sleep with your face in his tiddies for months!"

"That doesn't count, Yennefer! I was dealing with a traumatic event! I couldn't even enjoy it! And they weren't even this cushy!"

"Tough sh*t, f**kwit, it still counts!"

"It does not, you a**waffle!"

Geralt ended the argument by grabbing both of them and smashing their faces into his tits. The surprised yelps quickly turned into muffled giggles.

When the weather warmed up, turning back into Spring, Geralt spent a little time off the Path, getting himself back into shape. He set up a little workout area outside in the backyard, and put it to good use every day, unknowingly giving their elderly neighbor lady a nice little show.

#the witcher #the witcher headcanon #the witcher modern au #the witcher netflix #twn #geralt #geralt of rivia #yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier #geraskefer #geraskifer #yenskier #yennskier #yennaskier #yenneskier #food headcanon

[damonjuicyscock]

Playlist-Chapter 9: Please don't go (90s Noel Gallagher X Reader)

Pairing: 90s Noel Gallagher X Reader

Warnings: language, angst, fluff, and... SMUT (yes it's back, P in V, Unprotected sex don't forget to protect yourself kids), a few spelling mistakes maybe.

Words: 3626 !

Summary: After the Whisky A Gogo events, Noel and you are barely talking to each other. But love seems to be stronger than this.

A/N: Heya Y'all ! Here's chapter 9 ! The return of SMUT ! I teased it a bit last week. I'm happy to finally feed you haha. Hope you'll like it as ever, and rendez-vous next week for the next chapter.

Love y'all

Enjoy !

(That's how he's supposed to look like in December 1994 apparently, at least that's what I saw...)

“Babe, I love you so I want you to know That I'm gonna miss your love The minute you walk out that door

So please don't go Don't go Don't go away Please don't go Don't go I'm begging you to stay

If you leave, at least in my lifetime I've had one dream come true I was blessed to be loved By someone as wonderful as you

So please don't go Don't go Don't go away Please don't go Don't go I'm begging you to stay».

December 1994:

It felt weird and unpleasant. Being on tour with Oasis and barely speaking to Noel seemed unseemly and unacceptable. I felt like a freeloader. I was travelling with them for free in exchange for my help, and yet, the only thing I wanted was to go home. No matter how much the other guys reassured me, I still felt out of place.

It had been two long months since things weren’t the same. Noel was letting me sleep in the hotel rooms and was going to sleep with one of the guys. The beds felt empty without him by my side. But my heart was full. Full of sadness. I was crying every damn night. It was tearing me apart. Breaking me. And I knew that once Oasis would have their Manchester gig, everything would be over. I would go to live at my parents house for a few, find myself a job again, never see Noel ever again, and try to forget him. Oh, but I would have to see him again, because my belongings were at his apartment, and soon, he would move to London. That was the detail that caused my heart to even break more.

The thing I didn’t know was that he already moved to London when we were on tour. He’d hired removal men who’d taken all his stuff to his new apartment. His things, as well as mine. I was now a Londoner and Liam was the one who told me, because Noel wasn’t saying anything to me anymore.

You wouldn’t believe it, but the situation hurt me more than what I lived with Kenneth.

And knowing I had nowhere else to go to when in London, I was forced to stay at Noel’s apartment.

December 13th-14th 1994- London

This night, Oasis were playing Hammersmith.

After the gig, Liam wanted us to have an afterparty in a pub but Noel proposed the guys to have the afterparty at his place for a sort of house-warming party.

So we went to buy drinks and some stuff to eat too and arrived at the apartment. It wasn’t little but wasn’t huge either, and again there was only one bedroom and one bed. But there were two keys, mine and Noel’s. Maybe the move had happened before we argued, and that now, he didn’t want me there anymore.

And anyway, I had to leave.

After quite a party at Noel’s place, the guys stood the night, sleeping on the ground with covers.

At about 5am, when the sun was starting to rise, I woke up, trying to be as discrete as possible. I started collecting my belongings and my box, and silently took them at the main door. Then I heard a familiar voice, and felt a familiar silhouette stand behind me.

What are ye doing? He asked

I turned around and looked at him.

Oh, so you’re talking to me now?

I could say the say thing. Now please, answer me question. He answered, dryly

Well I think you’re not blind, I’m collecting my stuff. I’m leaving. I’m going back in Town.

Silence settled in for a few seconds, and I heard him sigh and his breath was shaking.

I don’t want ye to go. He said, his voice trembling

I looked at him and saw he was on the verge of tears.

I have to. It will be better for us. I can’t live like this Noel. I said my voice trembling as well

Tears invaded my eyes.

Live like what? He asked

I can’t stay with a man who doesn’t love me anymore, when I do. I should have known earlier. I can’t live with a broken heart. It would kill me. If I can’t have you, it’s better if I leave, because it would kill me to see you with someone else too.

Wait Y/N, I…

My dad bought me a train ticket, I’m leaving in an hour so I should better get going.

Will ye listen to me ?

No. I know you’re going to apologize for something you’re not responsible for. And it would break my heart even more. I can’t force you to love me Noel.

I took my box, my bag and my suitcase, ready to go.

Come on, please Y/N…

Farewell Noel.

And I left, under the rain. I sobbed hard. Love could hurt badly. Love only punches the heart.

By the afternoon, I was at my parents place, asking for affection and reassurance like a damn child, which they did give me, without asking any questions. And at the moment I was about to cry again, I heard meowing.

Ringo ?!

*

December 18th 1994- Manchester

The only thing I was doing during my days was looking for a job. But each evening and night, I was in my old bedroom, listening to the radio and reading to empty my mind.

Empty my mind because Noel was in my head. And because Oasis were playing Manchester this evening and I didn’t go.

At about midnight, the radio started playing an old K.C and the sunshine band song: Please don’t go. And each time the singer was repeating the chorus, it reminded me of Noel’s words. “I don’t want ye to go”.

So I started crying again. Shit. Everything reminded me of him. And I cried myself to sleep.

At 1:30 am, I heard someone throw rocks at my window. I immediately knew it was him. Because he was the only one doing this. I walked to it and opened it, receiving a rock in the eye, again.

Ouch! Seriously, you still can’t aim!

Fuck, I’m so soz Y/N.

What the fuck do you want?

Can I climb?

Why?

Please it’s fucking freezing out there! And I need to talk to ye.

I hesitated.

Okay, come on, but don’t break your neck!

Noel climbed at my window, entering my bedroom. Just like he did when we were younger.

Hi! He said with a smile

What do you want? I asked softly

Well ye left like this and ye didn’t even listen to what I had to say.

Noel…

Those aren’t fucking apologies Y/N. Please, let me talk.

I sighed, already sad about what I was about to hear.

Okay…

I sat on my bed

I want us to talk about what ye said in September.

I knew it… Listen, I said anything I had to say Noel.

I know but… I didn’t see anything. And I feel like shite for not doing so.

Feels like you’re going to apologize…

Would ye like to?

No. I was really explicit about it though.

I know. I didn’t know how to fucking react. I kinda… panicked.

I chuckled.

And why so?

Because I never stopped loving ye either. But I was fucking scared ye would break me heart again. And I can’t let ye do that. Ye don’t know how it fucking broke me. I wouldn’t survive if it happened another time.

Now I was the one feeling like shit.

Oh Noely, I’m so…

Don’t. It wasn’t yer fault, it was mine. I’m not trying to excuse meself fer what I did, but I think music was and is such a part of me life, that I had to run away from me responsibilities like the coward I  fucking am and focus on what would never leave me. And I figured and didn’t know at the same time that it meant losing ye. I kinda made an unconscious choice in a way. Ye were right. I stopped calling when I should have. Yer… Yer the best thing that ever happened to me Y/N.

And suddenly, he broke down. He was sobbing hard. I never saw Noel cry like this before. Often on the edge of tears, but not like this.

I was used to “hard” and “strong” Noel, who was never showing his emotions apart in studio when singing and playing his songs. Where he was letting his emotions loose. Because deep down, the real Noel was kinda and almost like the little boy I met, something innocent and pure. But when he would be done playing, he would call you a twat.

 I loved both sides. But I loved the real Noel even more.

He sat on my bed next to me, hiding his face, so I wouldn’t see him cry.

I sat beside him, taking him in my arms.

The best thing that has ever happened to you, huh?

Yea… He answered sniffing

After Oasis?

He chuckled

Mmmh, let me guess… yes?

You bastard! I laughed

He chuckled again

Of course not. Ye’ve always been before Oasis. Before owt else.

So stop crying your heart out handsome.

He lift his head up and looked at me.

Is there any chance?

I don’t know, actions have always spoken louder than words.

I knew he understood the assignement. Because his face slowly approached mine, our eyes closed, and his lips finally touched mine, kissing them tenderly.

He let out a low moan at the feeling, as if it was the best thing in the world. His tongue asked for entrance, and I let him, the kiss becoming heated, before stopping to say:

And I’m definitely stealing the “stop crying your heart out” from ye. What a fucking title fer a song.

Y/N, your muse, at your service. I answered

Fuck yes ye are!

And he started kissing me again, this time passionately, taking our breaths away. A pool started to from in my undies. I wanted him, I needed him. I started unbuttoning his shirt at the same time.

Are ye sure? he asked me

I’ve never been so sure of my life. I answered

So he let me finish what I started, while by his side, he started peppering my neck with kisses, causing me to shiver. I missed this feeling.

I took off his shirt, letting my hands wander on his torso and his back and caressed them.

Fuck, I missed yer touch… He said

I didn’t answer and kissed him instead. I felt his hands untie my dressing gown, uncovering my breasts. He then took it off me, leaving me naked from the top.

Ye’re even more beautiful than I remember…

Oh stop it.

He chuckled

I quickly unbuckled his belt and unbutonned his jeans. He stood up and took them off. He laid me down before hovering me and kissing me again. We were eager and we couldn’t stop. I felt his hand tug at my undies. I looked at him, smiling.

What are you waiting for ? I asked

He smirked and slid them off before sliding his boxers too.

I wrapped my legs around him to feel him against my skin again. He whimpered when I did so and caressed my cheeks. He started dry humping me, his look plunged into mine. And I could see it: the flame, the same one I saw on the last day of 1983, when he said he was in love with me for the first time. Some things don’t change. Here it was a mix of love and lust.

I caressed his body, his back, his buttocks, already being almost out of breath because the feeling of our reunion was a bit overwhelming. And I could feel it did the same thing to Noel.

Eventually, I was so wet I felt him enter me without warning from dry humping me, causing me to gasp. It hurt and felt good at the same time. It had been a long time I didn’t do anything.

Fuck, ye’re so tight… Are ye okay?

Yeah, you can move already. God, I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long…

Me too.

He started thrusting in me, slowly at first, so we could both get used to the feeling, and increased the rhythm of his hips rolling against mine little by little.

I had to be as quiet as possible, and it was hard to do so. The amount of emotion I felt at this right moment made it impossible.

I was whimpering hard, looking at my lover and kissing him. His hand was trying to find mine and when he finally did, he held it tight and squeezed it.

My eyes shut in pure extasy as I felt him filling me up to the brim. Our bodies were started to be covered in sweat, and our whimpers were getting louder.

With his other hand, Noel grabbed my thigh, caressing and holding it, giving him a new angle that helped him thrust even deeper in me, hitting the right spot, making me moan.

He put his lips on mine to silence me.

And with each thrust, he was hitting this magical spot repeatedly, bringing me closer to my climax.

Fuck… I love ye so much Y/N…

With these words, my body let go. My back arched on the bed, my eyes rolled at the back of my head, and my body started trembling. Noel helped me ride out my orgasm and stopped moving, looking at me.

I’ve got ye love, I’ve got ye.

When I finally was back to earth, I felt Noel’s hand caressing my breasts, sliding to my hips.

Why did you stop? I asked

I wanted to see ye cum. I missed hearing yer sweet sounds and seeing ye cum. And I want to last a little bit longer too.

Well, I hope you’re not disappointed.

He chuckled.

How could I be? we both had what we wanted.

Oh and Noely…

What?

I love you so fucking much.

Yea, I know.

I took advantage of the situation to hover him at my turn.

My turn now. Just sit tight.

Yer orders madam.

I put a hand on his shoulder to stabilize myself, taking his member in my other hand, sliding up and down before sinking down on him completely, causing him to moan lowly, as he bit his lower lip.

I grabbed his hands and put them on my hips before putting my hands back on his shoulders as I started bouncing up and down on his hard member.

I was sore from my previous orgasm and knew my next wasn’t far. I adapted a regular pace, kissing him at the same time to silence our moans that were getting louder.

Noel’s arms wrapped around my waist, and he started thrusting in me to help me reach our extasy.

Oh Noel… I moaned lowly

His lips came in my neck, kissing it and leaving a hickey.

He found my sweet spot again and my eyes closed in pleasure.

My insides started convulsing around him, which affected his movements that quickly became sloppy.

Fuck, love, I’m going to cum… He grunted

Just say it one more time. I whimpered

Say wh-what?

Tell me you love me….

Fuck… I love ye to fucking death Y/N…

And just like this, I wrapped a hand around his bicep, while the other pulled at his hair as I let myself go again.

I was only shivers.

My head fell in the crook of Noel’s neck, crying out in pleasure against his lips. Then Noel let out long and desperate moans against mine as he filled me with his hot release.

We held each other tightly, our sweaty bodies connected, kissing and catching our breaths. I rode out my high crying. It had felt so good.

When he softened, he pulled out and we collapsed on the bed, next to each other. He kissed my forehead before caressing my arm and my face. I put my head on his torso, listening to his heartbeat.

Are ye okay? He asked

I’m more than okay, I just cried because it was a lot. I…

Ye needed this, I know. I did too.

I was going to say I missed you, but yeah, I needed you too. With everything that happened…

Hey, I’ve got me scars too love. Ye’ve healed mine and I hope I healed yers.

Oh you did. You saved my life Noely. You did even more.

And this time, I won’t let ye go. That’s a promise. I can have both. I can have ye, and I can have music too. And though, if I had to fucking choose, I’d choose ye without hesitating.

I kissed him before getting up and grabbing an old clean tee to clean our mess.

After this, we quickly fell asleep in each other’s arms.

*

The next morning, I was woken by a pounding on my door. FUCK, THE DOOR! We didn’t lock it!

Wakey wakey in there! my dad said

Fuck! Noel, wake up! I whispered

My young over grumbled

Five more minutes mam… he said

Noel, for fuck’s sake, it’s me not your mam and we’re at my parents!

Holy shit! He said opening his eyes as he jumped out the bed, dressing hastily

Y/N, I’m going in! my mother said

Wait no mam, I’m not presentable!

Oh, it’s all right darling, I gave birth to you, I saw you being born, I’ve already seen you naked, I know how you look like!

Quick, under the bed! I said to Noel, who immediately hid

I barely had the time to cover myself as my mum entered.

Mam! For fuck’s sake I’m 27 years old, my intimacy!

Morning to you too sweetie, I see your language is as flowery as ever!

Soz, you just took me by surprise mam.

Nevermind, what do you want for breakfast?

Huh, toasts. Toasts with some of your strawberry jam please.

Okay. Will you take the same thing Noel? She asked

Oh for fuck’s sake… I mumbled, hiding my face in embarrassment

Huh yea, thank ye Y/M/N, and a cuppa please

Alright. Be downstairs in 10 minutes! She said before closing my bedroom door

Noel showed his head for under the bed, looking at me.

Hello there. He said

I looked at him and we burst out laughing.

Please, swear you’re staying for breakfast.

I’m not going to leave ye in the lurch on yer own, ye know I’m not like that!

Thank God.

I’m only Noel but thank ye love. He chuckled

So modest.

Oh, by the way, ye forgot this when ye left the last time. He said, handing me a key

What’s this?

The key to our place. Will ye come back to me after Christmas?

I kissed him and took the key.

I’m already back, me. I answered

I dressed up and we got downstairs. My mum was in the living room, sat on the couch, waiting for us.

Ah here you are you lovebirds. Sit and have breakfast.

How did you know Noel was here mam?

Not hard to guess when there are boxers half-hidden in your bedside table. Listen, it’s normal at your age to go at it…

Oh here we go… I said

But just not under my roof anymore. When you were 16-17 years old, I couldn’t say anything.  Preferred you to do it in a safe place rather than risking getting arrested. But now you’re both 27, you’re grown-up adults, you have plenty of places to go to do it. I gave birth to my daughter, but I never signed to hear her…

MAM! I exclaimed, interrupting her

Well, long story short, don’t have sex here anymore, are we clear? She said

Yes, understood mam.

Okay, we’re good then. Oh and now you’re reconciled, Y/N, after Christmas, you could…

Piss off? I asked

I wouldn’t say it like this, but that’s the idea. Your father and I we love you, you’ll always be welcomed here, but I know that if you stay, Noel will too, and what I just said would have fallen on deaf ears. At least you’ll be able to… do your thing by your side.

Well it’s nice seeing you again mam, it’s not like I’ve been away for a few months. I said, rolling my eyes

And I’m happy to see you my little angel, but it’s still the same point. Don’t have sex under my roof anymore. I didn’t raise you to assist to your lovemaking.

Jesus fucking Christ mother…

I never felt so embarrassed in my whole life. My mother had the talent to do this. At the time, I was even thinking about spending Christmas with the Gallaghers to run away from this. But happily, my mother never broached the topic again, as if nothing happened. A slightly avant-garde mother for her time but embarrassing as hell.

#noel gallagher smut #noel gallagher oneshot #noel gallagher fluff #noel gallagher fanfic #liam and noel #noel gallagher #noel gallagher x reader #oasis band #oasis #britpop #liam gallagher #Spotify

[behindthewox]

What is your opinion on the MoM of JM eliminating the chat hierarchy?

Personally I highly disagree with this decision, as we were already dealing with people stepping on everyone else’s toes. Now we have literally every staff member in chat RACING to correct them first, often not even explaining correctly.

Example:

What your supposed to say: “Watch the spam, remember that the maximum of repeated words in a row is considered spam <3”

What is typically said: “Watch ur spam!”

followed by:

“HAHAHHA BEAT YOU IM THE FASTEST.”

It’s unacceptable and making a mockery of another persons mistakes and I am positive that we have lost new users over this new rule. Heck, I wouldn’t spend another minute on a site that found my mistake as a funny joke or a race.

Well, it's probably an efficient method of losing users and making other people question who put a child in charge of all the children. Like Peter Pan in Neverland. Is that too harsh of me to say? Forgive me, but I will be harsh with this one.

It's human nature to want to make yourself look good and correcting other people's mistakes is an easy opportunity to do that. People will take that opportunity without really thinking about it, especially children and teens who tend to be more impulsive. If a child sees someone do wrong, they are likely to point it out because they know it's wrong and they want the world to see that they know better. In teenagers it's less apparent and more controlled, but it's still there - especially online. You often see it in adults too, people who haven't yet matured and/or learned when to shut up. But to put it simply, it's a behaviour associated mainly with children, and to sum it up in a single verb: it's childish.

Taking a step back and not intervene in a situation takes some learning, and lots of practise. WoX is a great place to do that learning, but it needs to be organised and structured with guidance from experienced mods/admins who know what they're doing. There has to be an "adult" in charge to draw the lines, and keep everyone within them. Without "adults" all you've got is children and there's a reason Peter Pan kidnapped Wendy. The Lost Boys were lost without an adult to guide them.

So my question is, where are the adults? Don't kidnap a Wendy, that's illegal.

(for more about chat moderation, "Keep reading")

If I was a site leader and my staff competed to correct users in the chat, I'd give them all a very serious lecture and point out that if they can't handle the position and authority they've got, then they shouldn't have it. Competing to correct other people's mistakes and wrongs is childish, disrespectful and highly unprofessional, not to mention upsetting and potentially hurtful to new users who may simply have made an honest mistake.

Sometimes hierarchies are bad, but oftentimes they are actually a good thing. Hierarchies of authority exist for many reasons, one reason being to make sure each task and responsibility is handled by the person or people who will do it correctly. Chat moderation can be tricky and needs to be done right, using pre-agreed methods and ongoing teamwork. Discord servers were important for this, allowing the chat moderators to communicate off-site about what to do (and what not to do) and share information and instructions.

It's also important to keep it minimal and make sure it doesn't get overwhelming and feels like an attack. One moderator is usually enough to deal with most situations, the more moderators you get involved the messier it gets with risks of contradicting statements/instructions and making the situation a whole lot bigger than it actually is. Mistakes should always be forgiven and approached with gentle nudges, not a response as if they've broken every rule in the book. For example, sending one message too many is NOT a big deal. It's worth a polite nudge, but no more. Five different people calling you out for spamming over one message is out of proportion, feels like an attack and frankly looks unprofessional and childish.

The chat hierarchy is in place to prevent that. Those with authority to give reminders should be instructed to step back if someone else is already dealing with it, especially if that someone has higher authority. They will (presumably) know how to handle it correctly and what information to give.

Rules exist for a reason. The reasons aren't always obvious, but they are there. Don't dismiss them just because you don't understand them.

#wox #wox site #chat moderation

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I cross my legs. I uncross them. I look down at my sandals, Birkenstocks. The inner soles are stained dark from use in the shape of my feet, and I consider whether or not this is disgusting. Sometimes I don’t know what’s acceptable or unacceptable to others, and whether sweat stained Birkenstocks would fall into that category. I wish I’d worn something else, something more serious, perhaps. The clock on the wall is the same one my aunt has in her kitchen, and I look at it next because there’s a man sitting opposite me and I don’t want to look at him. The door of the office swings open and a timid seeming woman comes out. Neither of us looks at her either.

“Evelyn Kilbride?” Comes a voice from the doorway.

“Yep,” I say, whisper really, even though the word doesn’t even come out so I shouldn’t have bothered, and I get up and I go inside. 

It’s not unlike the counsellor’s office from secondary school, bookcases, files, a rug that feels soft underfoot, two chairs facing each other. July sunshine streams in from the window beside the seat I choose and instantly heats my head. I fidget and press my fingers into a tense spot at the back of my neck. 

“Would you like to close the blinds?” Helen, I think that’s her name, settles into the seat across. 

“It’s okay.”

“If you’re feeling too warm or uncomfortable at all during the session we can adjust, don’t be shy to ask for anything you want, including water at any point, or a cup of tea.”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

She gives me a warm smile, “So Evelyn, I’m very glad to meet you, and thank you for coming to this session with me today, you know the hardest thing to do is to reach out to someone, and you’ve already done that part, so that’s just wonderful.”

“Mm,” She’s very motherly, I think, dressed in a green jumper despite the weather, with short greying hair that curls around her ears and over the sides of her wire frame glasses. I wonder if she intentionally dresses like a person who knits and bakes scones because there’s some research study that proves that people are more likely to open up to motherly types or if she’s really just like this all the time. 

“So how can I help you today? Is there something on your mind that you’d like to talk about, or even any questions you have?”

“It’s been a while since I’ve done something like this, to be honest.”

“It’s normal to feel a bit uncertain when coming to a conversation like this for the first time, or even the first time in a little while. You can share as much or as little as you feel comfortable with, but maybe today, just to get us started, could you tell me something that’s been on your mind lately? Maybe a challenge you’re facing or a particular emotion you’ve been feeling?”

“Um,” my eyes slide away from hers and onto the floor, because her eyes are too empathetic, too gently encouraging and I think I’d rather eye the rug for a while. “Well I suppose I’ve always sort of felt like I have something wrong with me.”

“Those feelings are very common, Evelyn, but that doesn’t make them any less challenging to those who experience them. When you say you feel like there’s something wrong with you, can you tell me more about that? Is there a particular aspect about yourself that bothers you?”

“It’s just that… Well, when good things happen in my life, like, you know, I succeed at something, get into the college I wanted, travel, earn money or do any of the other things I’ve always wished for, they make me happy for a while, and then eventually the happiness always fades away and I go back to this state where I hate myself and I feel awful all of the time and nothing seems to lift that mood.”

“How long have you been experiencing these negative feelings?”

“I don’t know, since I was like, ten, maybe? Younger. I can’t really remember not feeling this way honestly, I think it’s just how I’m made.”

“You know,” Helen leans back thoughtfully, “It might feel like I’m stating the obvious a little bit, but a lot of our negative feelings and emotions stem from childhood. Childhood experiences have a profound impact on our emotional well-being as adults. What was your home life like as you were growing up?”

“It was alright, we got by, I suppose, we never had a whole lot of money but at the same time I was never really wanting for anything either-”

“And your parents?”

I laugh, “They’re alright. My dad is fond of the drink, but he’s harmless about it, I suppose. And my mam’s a bit high strung. She likes things to be perfect and I suppose… I suppose like, I found that a bit hard at times. I felt like there was no way to please her, really, like no matter what I did to help out I’d always just do it the wrong way. It was really hard to fit into the boxes that she wanted me to, I’m just very different from her. Like our minds work differently and I know that I’ll never be able to relate to her, or her to me.”

“Have you tried to speak with her about how you felt as a child?”

“No, we don’t have that kind of relationship. I can’t even imagine talking to her about a thing like that. I don’t know how that’d go down, she’d like, shrug me off, maybe, or say I was being dramatic. She always thought I was dramatic in my emotions.”

“How so?”

“Because I get upset a lot, and I think that my mind goes to places that she can’t understand. I think that for her everything is very black and white, do you know what I mean? For me it’s very hard to let things go, if I’ve been hurt by something or I feel annoyed at a person, I hold onto things for a very very long time, and I think them over again and again until I’m in a spin. She doesn’t get that. Her advice is always like, ‘stop thinking about it’ as though that’s something that’s possible for me to do, and then she gets annoyed with me when I’m still upset afterwards. We don’t make sense to each other in that regard so I’ve stopped opening up to her about things in my life. She actually barely knows anything about me anymore, and it’s not a terrible, awful thing either. Our relationship is fine, we just don’t connect in that way.”

“Well it sounds to me as though her desire for perfection, her desire, perhaps, for a perfect daughter has created a lot of pressure for you to meet certain expectations. Not just inside the home but outside of it too, into your adult life. I see this often, you know, children from pressured home environments who grow up into adults who struggle with feelings of never fitting in. It can have a significant impact on a person’s self perception.”

“Yes well, I’ve never felt like I’ve really belonged anywhere, to be honest.”

“Can you talk me through that a little bit? Any examples of feeling this way?”

“Well, obviously in secondary school, I hated it there, and primary school too, I just always felt like everyone was talking about me behind my back, even though I bet they weren’t. And then later on too, in college I thought I could try and alleviate that feeling by trying really hard to fit in with a crowd there that really weren’t right for me, and it was all so stupid, and I suppose I’ve learned my lesson about trying to be someone I’m not but still, now I’m back to this weird purgatory, where I feel like I’m a girl just floating around with nowhere to land, and feeling nothing, and things that should bring me joy just don’t anymore.”

“Like what things?”

I sigh, “Well, I have a boyfriend.”

Helen’s eyebrows go up as though this is the kind of thing she hears about all the time, “Hmm, yes?”

“He’s amazing. He’s kind and funny and thoughtful, and he takes care of me and I never annoy him, and no matter how much we hang out we never get tired of each other, and not that it’s that important but he’s so handsome and tall and clever and artistic, and he cooks so well, and he loves me, like, he’s actually in love with me,” I take a breath, “But he doesn’t stop me from being sad.”

“Go on.”

“I feel like I pursued him for so long, you know? We met years ago, when I was only seventeen and he was older and so popular and effortless and everything he did was amazing to me, and I suppose I thought that I was so useless that he’d never like me back. But it was so hard to move on and I just couldn’t get past him. It was like every other boy had to measure up to him somehow but it was impossible to, because he was already perfect in my head. And then this year we finally got together, and I was so happy, like, elated. Happier than I can ever remember being, and it was because I’d achieved something. I’d proved to myself that someone like him would like someone like me, and that meant that I was a worthy person. But it’s like, I suppose he was aspirational, does that make sense?”

“In that the reality doesn’t live up to the fantasy that you’d pictured during the years before you were a couple?” 

“It’s not that,” I chew on my lip, “He’s great, like, really, but I think that I believed he’d bring an end to the badness in my life, or something like that. As though I expected that if he were to choose me it’d prove that I was a valuable person and…” I break off because of the discomfort bubbling inside me. “Um.”

Helen smiles knowingly, “He hasn’t proved that to you after all?”

“No, and it’s like…” I inhale deeply when I realise I might begin to cry, “It’s actually more like… the things I’m thinking are more… I’m kind of starting to think that he’s the problem instead.”

“What do you mean by ‘he’s the problem’?”

“I’m starting to believe that he’s delusional.”

“I see. Delusional for loving you, when you consider yourself to be unlovable.”

I nod and make a swipe for the tissues on the little table next to me, “I’m going to ruin it,” I say. “I have no doubt.”

“Evelyn,” Helen begins, and I interrupt her. 

“Evie.”

“You prefer to go by Evie?”

“Yeah,” I dab my nose and am hit by the absurdity of the fact that I’m spilling my deepest feelings to a woman who doesn’t even know the name I go by. “Nobody calls me Evelyn.”

“I wasn’t aware of that. I’ll call you Evie from now on.”

“Thanks.”

“Evie, you know that it makes a lot of sense why you’re feeling these things, but I know that the knowledge of that won’t make them feel much easier. I’m certain that your boyfriend sees endless things about you that he considers lovable, and that he’s right in thinking them. I think it might be useful to talk about the things that you love about yourself. Can you think of anything at all that you’d like to share with me?”

“Good things about me?”

“Yes, anything you can think of.”

“Um,” I trace my fingers along the piping on the arm of the chair and stare at the hangnail on my thumb. My fingernails aren’t very nice, I think. They’re brittle and chewed down to the pink parts, and my nail varnish has chipped off along the edges leaving ragged patches of black in the centre. I actually don’t have very attractive hands at all. 

Helen prompts me gently. “Do you have some close friends?” 

“Yeah I suppose.”

“Think of them then, what do you think they’d say are your best qualities?”

I struggle to think, which frustrates me. It really shouldn’t be hard, but when I put myself in Claire’s shoes I can only imagine her pitying me and imagine that she thinks I’m unhinged, dependent on alcohol to function socially and in constant need of management to stay on track. “They might say I’m funny,” I manage halfheartedly. 

“Well a sense of humour is a wonderful thing. You know, some of my favourite friends are the ones who can make me laugh. It’s a quality that not everyone is blessed with,” She smiles warmly, “Can you think of anything else?”

I hesitate, “I’m very different from my friends I think, I can’t imagine what they’d say.”

“Would they say that you’re a good listener? There for them when they’re going through tough times?”

I burst into tears, “There’s something so wrong with me. I can’t think of a single fucking thing I like about myself.” I clutch a fistful of tissues and cram them against my face, stabbing them against my eyes with a ferocity that privately surprises me. I’m enraged by myself for my blatant uselessness. I hate myself so much that I can’t even drag one miserable forgiving thought out of my head. “Sometimes I honestly wish that I was dead.”

I hadn’t realised that I’d spoken that part aloud until Helen responds, “That’s a very big feeling to deal with, Evie. I’m so sorry that you’re struggling so much. If you feel able, could you talk me through that a little bit more?”

I’m not sure I can talk at all, I’m too busy wailing into fistfuls of tissues, squeezing my eyes and baring my teeth, feeling like I might retch from the shuddering, heaving sobs that tear through my body. “I don’t want to kill myself,” I clarify, “But I think about dying sometimes, and how if I was dead then I’d have no more awful feelings. I…” I heave a breath into my lungs, “I get these really vivid, violent thoughts sometimes, about falling down stairs and cracking my skull against the floor, or tumbling down a cliff and bouncing from rock to rock down into the sea until it’s all over. I don’t know why. It’s not like i think I’m going to jump and kill myself, I’m not, I don’t want to go through with it but I think sometimes that if something happened to me, or if I just never woke up then I’d be fine with it.”

“Mm,” Helen says, and she’s so calm that it’s weird to me. How can she listen to someone saying that they want to die without alarm? She’s clearly in the presence of a freak, so why isn’t she acting like it? I attempt something else I think will be shocking to her.

“When I was sixteen I was doing the dishes in the kitchen and I dragged a knife over my arm. It wasn’t even premeditated. I just saw the knife and I did it, I wanted to see if it’d make me feel anything at all. It was too blunt to break the skin, and then I felt ten times stupider because I’d not even been able to do something basic like cut myself.” I glance at her again to see how she reacts to that, but still, she’s calm. “I’ve never said that out loud before.”

“Thank you for trusting me.”

“Do you think I’m fucked up beyond repair?”

“Do you want me to think that?”

“Doing things like that aren’t normal.”

“It’s common, believe it or not. I see countless young people who feel the same as you do, you’re not a strange person, or broken, or stupid or any of the other words you’ve used to describe yourself. You’re a normal young woman trying to navigate the enormous pressures of your world. You’re not irreparable, Evie, in fact you’re far from it, and I think you’re going to be okay.”

“Alright,” I say, and then I sit there contemplating how embarrassing it is to sob in front of a stranger while she writes something in her notebook, and then eventually I feel compelled to apologise. 

“There’s no need to be sorry,” Helen doesn’t look up. 

“I feel stupid for crying.”

“It’s perfectly normal to cry.”

I wonder what she thinks of me. What things she’s writing about me in her notebook. Maybe that I’m highly emotional, depressed, in need of serious medical intervention if I can be expected to function normally in society. Will she make me take pills? I don’t think I want to be on something that strips a piece of me away and makes me numb. “Are you going to prescribe me medication?” I say. 

“We’re going to look at options for you,” Helen says, and I don’t remotely know what those options might be. I don’t ask. 

“Alright,” I say. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky girl part 3 #tw: depression #tw: anxiety #tw: mental health #tw: sucidal thoughts #tw: self harm

[pokidot]

KILL BILL — two

warnings: kazuha being probably the nicest person in this smau, funeral wc: 1534

You were pulled out of the church with a grinding halt as your father spun you with his hands gripped against your shoulders. You wobbled against the grassy patch you stopped on, your cries so voracious that they could have very well been screams.

"I can't, I- I can't do this!" You heaved in less than steady breaths, clutching at your heart. "I can't!"

"You have to!" Your father shouted ferociously, not so much in anger, but in pure desperation. "You need to! Your behavior is extremely unacceptable, especially when he wouldn't want this for you!"

"What! What wouldn't he want for me?! Since you know so well! Huh?!" You retaliated, fingernails digging into your palms. At the brief silence of disbelief from your father, you continued, "Checkmate, dad! Otherwise, he'd still be here!"

"It wasn't his fault that he's gone! I’m glad you have the gall to play the blame game, (Y/N)!”

"Then why are they allowed to be in there!?" Your throat rasped, and at that moment, the world screeched to a halt. Blood felt like it was hammering in your ears.

“…What?” Your father blinked in disbelief, his face contorting into disgust.

“You let the very people we’re supposed to hate for letting him die come to mourn, and you don’t even care!” You started shouting again, your words remained raw with passion. “They killed him! By letting them in…did you even have respect for Venti at all?”

Your mother's mouth went agape. "(Y/N)," She hesitated, and you tore your intense gaze away to her, "Don't you...think you're trying to catch fish in the air?”

"I'm sorry?" Your mouth opened, eyebrows raising.

"Dad?" Your mother looked at your father for reassurance. Perhaps his expression betrayed him, because his demeanor shifted with the change of a hat.

The air was thicker with tension than usual. Something was darker than the clouds hanging over them greeting them with a hello before letting the sun hang out through peaked blinds once again. You recognized the grim aura like it was the back of your hand. And you were starting to believe that Venti’s death was no more than an accident.

“Dad,” You asked, drained of guise. “Stop keeping me in the dark.”

"Nobody did anything to him." Your dad's shoulder jutted away from how close you and your mother both were. He looked defeated, almost as if he did consider your words. "He always had heart problems, (Y/N)."

Your face muted. "What?"

"He promised us to hide at least that from you. It's not impossible for this to happen." He turned away to keep himself from even looking at you upcoming distraught face. "There was a reason why he evaded the question a lot when we asked if he was taking his medicine."

“You’re lying to me!” Your words shook again, you had the same feeling as a child who was hardly paid attention to at home. “To keep something like that from me…you would be sick in the head.”

“Was it that, or did we know you couldn’t handle it?” Your mother asked gently, her hands on your shoulders with ease. “We can’t find comfort in blaming other people for things that we have no idea of, (Y/N). It only divides us as people.”

You couldn’t even argue anymore, but something was off to you about the turn of events. And you didn’t like it.

Not even a soft lull could calm you down from the cracking glass shattering in your body. Your unruly yowls were starting to suppress themselves in your mother's arms. Everything wracked against you in that moment; the weakness blubbering your large sounds, your body succumbing to fragileness, the larger lump in your throat forming to create bubbles in your esophagus the more you cried. You realized you were more helpless than you thought.

It took you a whole thirty minutes to even compose yourself to go back inside. But you couldn’t even grasp a minute amount of courage to continue staring at the picture of your brother against his coffin. You couldn’t stand to look at the coffin in general.

So you didn’t. You looked directly at the view of the nearby lake, away from most of the people you could hear crying from afar. After your frequent outbursts, you hardly fathomed to feel anything but the numbness coursing through your veins.

You didn’t know what to do with the fury inside of you, a dormant force you hardly could stand. Within this world, was an unbidden rage all you had now in the place of Venti? Was that all you were? The only flame left?

“You really knocked out my friend back there,” An unknown, yet amused voice made your sitdown in misery dissolve into embers instantaneously, your head turned towards the source.

His red streaked platinum hair looked much more vibrant than it did on screen. You recognized his face anywhere, but you stayed unmoving. Turning your head back around at the streaming waters of the lake, you hummed. “I don’t talk to strangers.”

The sun decided to rear it’s head among the clouds when Kazuha silently took his first step to stand next to you. The silence was long, and arduous, but at the same time there was a hidden comfort. “You’d be the opposite of your brother.”

“Spoken as if you know him?”

“We were coworkers, silly,” He gave a half-hearted laugh, “Recently, he and I had bonded a lot more on our musical interests. He had a knack for piano, and we would often practice using rawer forms of audio. He worked himself hard…harder than most to keep us together.”

Your ego has never been so bruised in your entire life. "He taught me how to play as well."

"Ah, as he told me."

Your eyes lit up, looking towards him. “He talked about me to you guys?”

“Of course he did.” Kazuha gave a small smile, his expression saddening with the windy atmosphere swaying at his strands. “You were all he talked about at one point. It was like you were his first trophy; I remember he often used to call you his star pupil.” Reminiscing on him gave him the revitalization he needed slightly. "Maybe we all should have been more vigilant with his health to keep him here..."

“Is this to soothe my thought on you murdering him in cold blood?” You asked, previously a lighthearted joke until you made eye contact with his crimson pools. “Is it?”

With his silence beckoning to the idea, you turned your entire body towards him. “Kazuha, right? Is this an act of kindness to keep me from ratting you out or something? What do you mean by, 'staying vigilant'?”

"I'm not implying he needed to be watched! It was no room to offend you, my apologies!" Kazuha shook his hands to soothe your steadily rising blood pressure. "It’s the intent that we all thought he would be fine amongst everything...the comfort that we relied on thinking that he'd be here forever."

You stopped to take a good look at him while he said this before you relished in the brief comfort again. “He always said we were two peas in a pod.” Your shoulders slumped. “Like yin-yang, I guess. I always knew what he was thinking, and he always knew what I was thinking. I relied on him for places I wouldn’t even rely on anybody else for. But these days...I don't have a clue of what he did, or if he was really the brother that I thought he was.”

The itch beneath his skin started as soon as you derived, Kazuha shifted a bit. Briefly, he checked his phone to see the time and pocketed it again, looking back at you with the same sympathy he had approaching. "To speculate on death only combats ambiguity as salt to your wound..."

He turned his body towards you fully once you shot your head back to him, taking a card he had with his number on it and bowing his head holding it out towards you. "Should you need anything from me, I will be there. I'm sorry that one of our member's angered you. He’s not the most…emotionally sensitive.”

“Anything, you say?” You raised your eyebrows.

Kazuha nodded his head politely, before realizing the severity of his words. “Well…within limits.”

Your loss for words hung heavy as you took the card from his hands, reluctantly. Trying to manage a sliver of a word to respond with, you could only scoff to yourself, "I don't like being pitied."

Kazuha's features warmed. "Be that as it may...you will always have a friend in me." He turned around after hearing the engine, and the rest of his fellow group walking towards it. It was Xiao to make eye contact with him first before he turned around to you and gave another deep bow in respect. "It was lovely meeting his sibling for the first time."

You watched him walk off and towards the others in disbelief, holding the card in your hand with reluctance. For some reason, you felt like you stuck your hand in a honeypot.

prev | masterlist | next

NOTES || i swear the writing parts dwindle by next chapter

TAGLIST IS OPEN! || @akagism2 @duckyyyx @ilocqua @dreamsofminnie @youngestdelacour @natsuscrustyscarf @lovely028 @akxmee @theblueblub @hutaomarryme @vanitasbrainrot @hydration-is-for-weenies @kkazuyass @dazaiscum @aaeng121 @sakurapeach @starsxnight (if your name is in green, for some reason i can't tag you)

#✮ emily writes #genshin fanfic #genshin modern au #genshin smau #self insert #smau #social media au #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #genshin venti #genshin xiao #venti #xiao #xiao x reader #xiao x y/n #xiao x you #kazuha #genshin kazuha #genshin aether #aether #kunikuzushi #genshin scaramouche #genshin kunikuzushi #scaramouche

[novankenn]

Holding Back

Chapter Two (1/4)

/== Chapter List ===/

“Answer!” the woman Yang and Pyrrha knew was Jaune's mother snapped at them, when they didn't respond right away to her first two questions. Afraid to say anything, Yang reached up and hit the camera flip icon. The woman's tone instantly changed. “Jaune!”

“Mom.” Jaune replied with a defeated tone.

“You've had us worried sick! Where are you? Why haven't you called? Are you safe?” Jaune's mother fired off a rapid series of questions.

“I'm sorry. Beacon. Afraid to. Yes.” Jaune replied.

“You're where?”

“I'm at Beacon.”

“And HOW pray tell did you manage to get into a Huntsmen Academy without combat school transcripts or a recommendation?”

“I...”

“Jaune?”

“Mom... please?”

“Jaune Jonathon Arc. You will tell me how you were accepted into Beacon, or so help me, I will come there and tan your hide!” Yang and Pyrrha both flinched, but remained silent. “So make your choice.”

“I cheated.”

“And how pray tell do you cheat your way into Beacon.”

“Forged transcripts.”

“Jaune. Well, that explains what happened to your savings account. So why are you calling... or more specifically are you having others call me, on your scroll?”

“Some things have happened, and... I have a problem that I...”

“Which one is it, or is it both? Are they keeping the baby?” Yang and Pyrrha both choked on air. Yang, on the thought that someone would think that about her and Jaune. Don't get her wrong, Jaune was a great guy, and a great friend, she just didn't see him like that. As for Pyrrha, she was picturing that statement becoming a reality.

“Not THAT type of problem!”

“Well, what was I supposed to think? You say problem, after having two young ladies call me on your scroll... AFTER not contacting us for MONTHS!”

“They KNOW!” Jaune snapped back at his mother in frustration.

“They know? What do they know?”

“Our style.” 

“How? What did you do, Jaune?”

“I was bothered into a spar with Yang, and spared with her and...” Jaune paused, he really didn't want to admit to his mother that he had been too distracted to notice Yang's scroll recording their interactions.

“And?”

“She may have... she did... record the match.”

“That is unacceptable. Jaune you know better, then to be that unobservant. She bothered you into revealing something that is private? More likely, she goaded you, and your pride couldn't...”

Actually...” Yang spoke up, thumbing the camera flip icon, so Jaune's mother could see her as she spoke up, to take the blame from Jaune for her actions. “I did bother him constantly for three days, before I had to promise that it would be a one time thing... and promised not to tell anyone.”

“I see, and this promise you made, you instantly broke.” Jaune's mother's deep blue eyes narrowed.

“I only showed two people...” Yang swallowed, feeling very uncomfortable being the focus of Mrs Arc's glare. “His partner and a Beacon professor.”

“Again you broke a promise. Who did you show and why?”

“His partner... she's next to me right now...” Pyrrha risked giving the obviously displeased woman a small, hesitant wave.

“And this professor?”

“He's a doctor, actually.” Pyrrha spoke up giving Yang a break, having the woman's gaze focus on her, “We couldn't recognize Jaune's style, so we asked someone who we thought might know.”

“Who, girl?”

“Doctor Oobleck. He's teaches History.”

“No doubt he wants to study this.”

“He did mention that, though he said only if Jaune agreed.” Pyrrha offered.

“Jaune?” Mrs Arc started to speak and stopped, “Put this scroll somewhere, so I can see all three of you at once. Flipping the camera function is distracting.”

Yang did as the Jaune's mother bid, before moving to sit next to Jaune on his bed; followed by Pyrrha.

“That is better.” Mrs Arc sighed. “Jaune, this is totally unacceptable. You know better, you were taught better. You have no excuse for any of this, and regardless of what these ladies are saying... in the end the fault lies on you.”

“Yes, mom.”

“I feel there is something else you are hiding. What is it?”

“Jaune's been challenged.” Pyrrha spoke up. “It's to happen tomorrow during Combat Class.”

“Challenged? Why?”

“I dislocated another student's jaw.” Jaune informed his annoyed parent. “So they want to get back at me. I have to attend or face suspension; though I don't have to participate. I can offer and apology...”

“You used our techniques, didn't you?”

“Yes.”

“So not only have you let your pride, but also your anger dictate your actions!” Mrs Arc snapped, causing all three to flinch as if struck. “SO, what are your plans to deal with these... issues?”

“Yang is willing to delete the video. Doctor Oobleck...”

“Said without Jaune's permission... he won't ask.” Yang spoke up.

“And this challenge, who is it against? What type of person did you assault?” momma Arc asked.

“He's a thug and a bully.” Pyrrha informed the elder Arc.

“I'll appolig...”

“No, you won't.” Jaune's mother stated flatly. “This one time, I give you permission.”

“Mom?” Jaune asked confused.

#holding back #rwby #shadow skill - anime #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #yang xiao long #saphron cotta arc #jaune's got skills

[laf-outloud]

https://www.tumblr.com/laf-outloud/729317893590990848/you-would-see-for-yourself-i-think-if-you-ever

Sorry, I don’t know the whole context of this, so forgive me if I’m missing the point a bit. I’m doing some inferring on what the OG quoted post might have been, but it made me think of something.

I think there is some truth to actually being at a con to understand the atmosphere there, like CE cons (or Comic Cons, to be fair). Different cities gave different atmospheres for sure and some are worse than others, but for the most part, people treat the actirs fine in ops and things.

It’s definitely true that Jared gets some shitty people wearing insulting shirts or giving him the cold shoulder on their ops. Utterly unacceptable, and this kind of thing should be squashed, but that requires having workers who pour over social media because some insults are more obscure (while others are obvious). But then we also see that Jensen gets insulting morons, too, only many of them are too dumb to realize they are insulting him, or no one taught them not to be creepy weirdos. Anyway, my point with this is that both a Jared and a Jensen get some shitty interactions, and both seem to get them from Jensen fans. But, despite these examples, most people are nice at cons, the dicks are the exception. Things often look miles worse on Twitter or wherever than they were in person, so I agree with the idea that someone has to be at a con (like CE) to fully get what it’s really like. Again, not excusing bad behavior.

On the other hand, those people who deliberately cut Jared out of answers at panels, while dicks, I guess unless they actually insult him, there isn’t a rule that you have to ask both actors a question, it’s just common courtesy. However, for the attention whores who use their time to gush over Jensen ("I worship the ground you walk on" 👀), or who monopolize the actor’s time by trying to have mini convos (people asking Food questions or ask them for food recommendations at local places tend to do this a lot) or who tell whole ass stories about themselves (or stand on chairs to literally show of their stalker-level tattoos) need to be stopped by CE Staff or volunteers. If this is too uncomfortable for " the volunteer" con workers who aren’t really permanent fixtures at each con, then they need to hire people running the mics who are permanent abd who aren’t afraid to shut people down on the spot.

I’m glad your con experience seems to have been very good, and that they made the rules for questions explicitly clear from the start. And people respected them.

I think one problem with CE is the fact that they just have the band play between panels when a staff member should actually introduce the guests and remind the audience of what is not allowed. CE seems to rely too heavily on the actors, or band, to do the heavy lifting like transitioning between panels, and that can put them in awkward positions if they are supposed to lay down rules for the audience.

Anyway, sorry fir the ramble. I guess in short, I just wanted to chime in that most CE con-goers are either nice, or at least mind their own business, but I agree something needs to be done about the shifty ones. And CE really needs to get more serious about informing their own rules.

Oh yeah, I agree! I don't think I ever mentioned that there were a ton of people doing crappy things at CE cons, just the minority who do exactly what you talked about. If it wasn't clear, I just think that having only Jared at a multi-fandom convention weeds out the few who do make it a point to be rude towards him because they are there to see the other guy. (I don't know what Jensen's going to do when he's on his own. Hopefully, there are enough GA fans to drown out the AAs.)

"CE seems to rely too heavily on the actors, or band, to do the heavy lifting like transitioning between panels" I would say this is a cost-cutting measure on Creation's part, but I suppose if the contract with the band includes managing panels, then there's not much that can be done. And it wouldn't really be that hard for Rob or Rich, or any other band member to address the audience at the beginning with the rules, but apparently no one likes to be seen as the disciplinarian.

As for Creation, I would love to know if they've actually enforced any of their rules in recent years, particularly the ones listed below.

#ask box #anti aas #anti toxic fans #yes - who are the minority #anti jared hate #anti jensen obsession #anti creation entertainment #laughing at the line “declined at (the actor's) discretion” #the actor doesn't want to be the asshole who said no #Creation needs to learn to say no #before the actor even knows what's going on #long post

[dribs-and-drabbles]

#BADBUDDYREWATCH

Ep 9

Seriously, how, HOW did Wai listen to Pran say he's afraid people will find out about him and Pat and STILL reveal their relationship in such a public way. He would have been unfriended for LIFE if he did that to me. I'm so mad at him. SO MAD. Poor little pathetic man-child didn't like that Pran lied to him. DON'T CARE. What he did was UNACCEPTABLE. (gosh I didn't realise I would feel so angry watching this again).

I LOVE that they used the same music again as the end of ep 8 (First Shooter by Bonnie Grace). The energy and drama in the ending...amazing!

Yeah, no, even after hearing Wai's reasoning why he's so upset I still don't have sympathy/empathy for him. 🤷🏽‍♀️ I love you Jimmy but Wai, no.

After all that emphasis with the rivalry and 'sides' last ep with the costumes, Pat and Pran explicitly talk about how things are going on their different sides...

The sacrifice. My man Pat is down baaaaad. He'll do anything for his man Pran. And even though Pran doesn't say anything, the fact that he pulls Pat's hand away speaks volumes. He sees the sacrifice Pat would make for him, basks in it even, the love that flows between them, and draws so much strength from it. It's how he can be so open now with Pat even though their friends/faculty have abandoned them, they have each other.

Pat getting the red vest which puts him and Wai on the same team - yes, it's supposed to cause tension between them but it's also symbolic of how, through their shared love of Pran, they are on the same team/side now. They have to be, or at least have to work out a way to be, for Pran.

And I love that through it all, with Wai being the most man-baby possible, Pran doesn't push Pat away. He allows Pat to still tease and play with him out in the open even though it upsets Wai more... The understanding, the conviction, the trust, the happiness he gets from Pat...

Ahhhhhh I just love the hotpot double date! Squeeeeeee!

We always talk about Pa's Oh moment - that she started questioning herself after Ink suggested she could be a love interest for Pa - but I don't think we've talked about Ink here - she must have walked away feeling crushed, having had to tell Pa that she was joking about hitting on her. But it's ok, because Pa got there in the end!

It's a shame the subtitles didn't include "My boyfriend is" instead of "you're" when Pat says "You're trying to make up with him here" because I'm pretty sure that's what Pat says. Out loud. For everyone to hear. 💪🏼

Oh dear god the second hand embarrassment I felt for the drink scene...but honestly it makes me laugh so hard now. Pat and Pran are made for each other. They're both dorks. Idiots (affectionate) in love. smh.

I just realised what the cold shoulder Pran gets from Safe and Louis reminds me of...a scene in my fav movie of all time, Some Kind of Wonderful, when the lead female's friends gives her the cold shoulder. Worlds colliding...🤯 (honestly, if you haven't seen this movie then do. It's really dated now, but it's a great friends-to-lovers film...most likely problematic nowadays...but SO GOOD). Back to Safe and Louis -> They're not giving Pran the cold shoulder because they want to per se but because it's what's expected of them in their 'social circles'.

Omg I forgot about the rugby 'choreography'...this would have taken a while to practice.

And I've just remembered PAT GETS SHOT at the end of this ep 😂

Napat "I like it tough" Jindapat.

The way Pran is totally ok with Pat answering his door and letting Korn into his dorm. Not an eyelid batted.

The bridge shirt!

I still think we should have gotten Korn and the guy who played Kwan together 😄

Yes! Fierce Pat again!

AHHHHHH PAT GOT SHOT!!! BAHAHAHAHAHA!

OH MY GOD...@seeking-moonscapes, Wai tells Pat in the hospital, "Next time, don't butt in." Exactly the same that Pran told Pat in ep 5! Pat should have listened to Pran back then and learnt from it!

Yeah. I love this show.

#bad buddy #badbuddyrewatch #bad buddy episode 9 #lin-live rambles the bad buddy rewatch #I also watched this one earlier than today #since I'm busy working alllllllll day #I'll try to reblog others' content but even that I might have to do tomorrow #damn work getting in the way of my blorbos

[showtoonzfan]

Sorry to keep ranting but I wanted to express my thoughts on this because the more I think about it, I more I realized what hypocrites the fandom is towards Loona’s and Stella’s behavior.

Both their actions are unacceptable but the only differences are one is a main character/fan favorite while the other is labeled a villain. Since people want to use the “gender reversal” scenario for Stolas and Stella’s case, imagine Blitz (the guardian) physically lashing out at Loona (his adopted daughter). Would people say “Well he had a hard life” or “That’s just how he shows his love”? Why is one instance of male domestic violence taken seriously while the other is seen as comedic effect? The fandom condemned “Stella defenders” of condoning abuse for wanting Stella to get a (sympathetic) backstory and depth- *things Loona got in the recent episode.

That’s why I questioned the supposed “hints” of Stella being abusive from the beginning. The tone of the scene with her yelling at Stolas and breaking plants in S1 E2 is very similar to Loona throwing stuff at Blitz and attacking him. The show never takes scenes with her in S1 seriously. Viv said S2 script was planned and written during S1 airing but no one talks about S1 script. I think originally Viv had Stolas and Stella just in a loveless marriage with Stella being angry about the affair and wanting revenge. Viv later decided to up Stella’s antics to make way more villainous than necessary for Stolitz sake.

Thanks for listening ☺️.

Agreed. Honestly the scripts for Helluva are all over the place in general, and with how careless and undeveloped Viv is in her patreon calls, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were making this up as they went and never properly planned anything out. It doesn’t help that Viv struggles with storytelling as well, so….yeah, I wasn’t surprised that Stella’s character ended up being a disaster. The way they reveal her being abusive in episode 1 of season 2 felt so out of place, but then again the entire episode did with her character, going “Oh yeah, not only did Stella NEVER love Stolas, not only was she in an ARRANGED marriage with him just to birth Octavia, not only was she a bitch from birth, but she ALSO physically abuses him.”- and this shit was NEVER indicated in the first season. Back then all we knew about Stella was that she was a prejudice bitch who hired a hitman due to Stolas’s cheating, but they never indicated that she was abusive. Sure, she was shown throwing and breaking things in episode 2, but one would assume that was done for comedic exaggerated effect, not something meant to be taken so seriously. Now she just….physically assaults Stolas I guess, but it feels more like it was added just so Viv can make her irredeemable as all hell so we can feel bad for Stolas and side with him. There was honestly no point on making her abusive on a writing standpoint either now that I’m really thinking about it. You already established she’s a one note evil bitch for the first half of “The Circus”, and her being abusive doesn’t do anything for Stolas’s character. Having him be trapped in a loveless marriage needing to put his foot down was enough, but nah, let’s add abuse into the mix to show that we’re deep at writing “complex” relationships even though in reality, we suck.

And yeah, again the fandom is…very hypocritical. In their eyes, since Stella is a villain, it’s not okay for her to be abusive or hire a hitman, but for Loona (a “main” character were supposed to like) it’s okay because “that’s how she shows her love and smiled for one second at her father”! When in reality it’s not okay either way.

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #helluva boss critical #anti vivziepop #hazbin hotel critical #helluva critical #reply #ask #helluva boss criticism #anti loona

[jdgo51]

Core Fear

Today's inspiration comes from:

Good Boundaries and Goodbyes

by Lysa Terkeurst

Editor's note: Good Boundaries and Goodbyes Online Bible Study Online Bible Study by Lysa TerKeurst starts 7/24! Sign up today and join us as we learn how to have biblical boundaries for healthy relationships.

"'What if, when trying to apply your boundaries in an emotionally charged moment, you lose your resolve, because the other person makes statements that confuse you, make you question the validity of this boundary, or accuse you in ways that hurt? You need to be prepared to know what to do.

See if you’ve heard any of these types of statements from others. Assess whether these statements have contributed to you giving up on setting boundaries with certain people.

When they say:

“What I did isn’t that big of a deal. You’re being so dramatic.” “You are being overly sensitive.”

“And you call yourself a Christian?! Jesus wouldn’t treat people this way.”

“I thought Christians were supposed to be forgiving.” “You’ve got such a hard heart. Jesus would have never walked away.”

“This is just more evidence of you being controlling and unforgiving.”

“Jesus loved all people and gave grace no matter what. So, what’s your problem?”

“You don’t seem like yourself. You’ve changed.”

“I’m so disappointed in you.”

“You’re just crazy and this is irrational.”

“You’re so selfish. All you care about is yourself.” “Seriously?! How can you be so mean after all I’ve done for you?”

“You’re so off base. Drawing boundaries isn’t biblical.” “But you’re my (wife, daughter, best friend, mother, sister). Acting this way toward me is out of order and unacceptable.”

Here’s why these statements are so triggering:

They are offensive. They aren’t an accurate picture of what’s true about who we are. Being misunderstood is so brutal because someone else is taking liberties with our identity. They are threatening. When someone makes hurtful accusations and pushes against our boundaries, it can feel as if whatever this relationship is providing for us will be taken away and some need in us will go unmet. They are disillusioning. When someone else makes us question our need for the boundary, we can second-guess reality, our sanity, our rationality, and even the severity of what’s really going on. We can easily start to wonder if the real problem is us rather than considering the source and why we are in this hard dynamic in the first place. Join the OBS It is so very important that we are aware of all three of these feelings that can make us vulnerable to not establishing wise boundaries. Here’s the first thing we need to notice about the effects of these triggering statements: they are each evidence that we need to establish a boundary with this person.

And here’s the second thing to notice: if we are afraid that this person will think poorly of us, potentially abandon us, or try to make us feel crazy for taking a step toward making the relationship healthy, chances are even higher that, without wise boundaries, they will eventually do all three of these things to us. (Dear me: read that last sentence one more time... maybe ten more times.)

Unhealthy people typically don’t manage their emotions and expectations (self-regulate) very well and can easily get offended when their lack of responsibility doesn’t become your emergency. Their thought process is often that their need trumps your limitations. And the telltale sign of their unhealthiness is their unwillingness to accept no as an answer without trying to make you feel terrible, punished, or unsure about the necessity of the boundary.

If we want to stay healthy, we have to use our limited energy in the right way. We could waste years putting all our efforts into trying to change the other person’s mind or prove to them why we need the boundary, or worst of all, we could drop the boundary altogether and continue living in dysfunction.

Let me state something crucial. I don’t want us to suddenly start categorizing everyone around us as healthy or not healthy. But we must pay attention to those who accept our healthy boundaries and those who resist them.

The apostle Paul addresses some key components to love:

And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ.

What I like about Philippians 1:9–10 is that the love here is associated with knowledge and discernment. So, the inverse is also true. A lack of wisdom and discernment is actually unloving. Sometimes we only associate love as a feeling. But we have to remember that biblical love is an intentional action where we want what’s best for us and the other person. Keeping this in mind, when setting boundaries our heart posture should be one of wisdom and discernment for the sake of true and healthy love.

Healthy people who desire healthy relationships don’t have an issue with other people’s healthy boundaries.

Hebrews 5:14 reminds us that mature people “have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil.” That word distinguish means someone can discern more readily what is the right way to treat someone and what is not acceptable. What someone should say and what someone probably shouldn’t say. And just because a person can do something, doesn’t mean she should do that thing. Discerning and choosing one’s actions carefully leads to a wisdom that those around them can trust.

People not liking our boundary does not mean we aren’t living right before God.

Healthy people are mature people. They seek to understand your concerns, discuss any issues that the need for the boundary reveals, and respect your limits. Remember, healthy people who desire healthy relationships know how to be responsible with the access you give them. For example, if they borrow your car, chances are they won’t return it on empty. But if they do, you can let them know that if they want to borrow it again, they just need to replace the gas they use. And they should see that as a reasonable request without making you feel anything less than generous.

Even if someone doesn’t like a boundary you have set, healthy people know the difference between hurt and harm. A friend who constantly runs late may feel hurt that you are no longer willing to ride with her to events but can recognize your boundary wasn’t put in place to cause her any harm. She won’t think that you’re selfish and rude. Nor will she blame her issues on you. And she certainly won’t diminish your identity, disrupt your safety, or disregard your assessment of reality. She’ll either adjust her untimeliness and ride with you or just meet you at the event. Either way, she will respect you enough to respect your boundaries.

Healthy people understand your limits because they are in touch with their own limitations. They communicate what they can and cannot do — what they are and are not willing to tolerate. And they expect you to do the same.

Understanding this can help us realize sometimes the problem isn’t that we aren’t good at setting healthy boundaries. Maybe we aren’t good at recognizing that we won’t get healthy results from unhealthy relationships.

Somewhere in all the looking around at others for validation, we’ve stopped looking up.

If we are living honest lives that honor God, we must not forget that people not liking our boundary does not mean we aren’t living right before God. When someone says something that hurts or offends us when we draw a boundary, it can be good to check ourselves. Is any part of this an attempt on our part to do harm, control, retaliate, check out, or give ourselves permission to be irresponsible? While checking ourselves is healthy, questioning our identity is not.

Checking ourselves means looking at a current attitude or behavior to see if it is in line with God’s instructions and wisdom. Questioning our identity is doubting who we are because we have given too much power to other people by letting their opinions define us.

I don’t know any other way to say this except to be absolutely direct: If our identity, the foundational belief we hold of who we are, is tied to an opinion someone has of us, we need to reassess. We must be honest with how much access to our heart we’ve given to this person. It’s not bad to give someone access to our heart but when we give an unhealthy person too much access, it can shake us to our core. When their opinion of us starts to affect how we see ourselves, we can lose sight of the best parts of who we are because we get entangled in the exhausting pursuit of trying to keep that relationship intact no matter the cost. And when this is the cycle we are caught in, sometimes we would rather manage people’s perceptions of us than care for ourselves and the relationship by putting appropriate boundaries in place.

When we give people personal access to us, those people must be responsible with it. And emotional access to our hearts is especially important.

Excerpted with permission from Good Boundaries and Goodbyes by Lysa TerKeurst, copyright Lysa TerKeurst.

[written-escapades]

"Breakable Silence"

Growing up in a household where speaking up and standing up for yourself is considered disrespectful is hard. Overcoming it is definitely easy, to the point that all you can do is accept the unacceptable and do yourself no justice at all. It's a tough battle, but I never gave up, and this fight finally came to an end when I decided to do the unthinkable.

There are things in this world that a man can't handle, and what more for a child? I spoke up for myself once, and to my disappointment, I was invalidated. After that incident, I never stood up for myself again because I was afraid of being invalidated again. Being silenced in my own home, which is supposed to be a safe haven for me, is definitely hard. Whenever I feel frustrated or angry, I have to hold it in for the whole day and just cry it out in bed until I fall asleep. It feels like I was forbidden to feel the normal emotion, and it feels like I am being blamed for feeling an emotion that will normally occur.

I adapted to the nature of being silenced and keeping everything to myself. As time goes by, my shell is growing a lot harder, which makes it a lot more difficult for people to socialize with me, and even having a basic conversation with me is hard. I was getting used to it since I feel like I have to because no one will tolerate me. I'm very difficult to handle, as people have said so far. But that was proved wrong when I met three wonderful beings, which I considered blessings. I always wanted a friend, but God gave me three. The hard-won battle I won was to break my nature of being silent and decide to speak what my heart yearns for. I really want to have friends, but I choose to think that this dilemma of mine is unbreakable; I will never be able to strike up a conversation with them, which means I will never be able to be friends with them.

I gather up all the courage, and I can decide to fight my fear. I was able to start a conversation with them, but it wasn't the best. It was really awkward since I don't know how a conversation works because I'm really not used to it, but it wasn't my main concern. My main concern was if they were willing to talk to me after that awkward attempt, which, to my surprise, they were. I sat down with them and had a wonderful conversation with them. By the time I got home, I went straight to my room and cried my heart out in happiness. It was really the happiest day of my life, even though it's just the beginning. It felt like I victoriously won a hard battle that I've been fighting ever since I was just a child. Although I made a huge step and am very happy with the outcome, there is still a small fear and doubt that cling to my mind. Questions like "Are they still going to talk to me tomorrow?", "Will the treatment remain the same?", "Will there be changes in the atmosphere tomorrow?", and many more Those thoughts kept running through my mind, but my heart kept telling me that it would be fine.

This marks six years of our friendship. It feels really nice to have them in my life for this long. I shared a couple of struggles and troubles with them, but it didn't break our friendship; it didn't remain the same, and it wasn't like before since we all geared up to become better for ourselves and for our friendship. After all those struggles, we remained strong until the very end because we all knew that we had each other no matter what. Having them is one of the best blessings that God has given me, and I will be grateful until the end.

To all people who share the same struggle as mine, it is never too late to take a turn. Even if it's just baby steps, it will have a huge impact and change what it was like yesterday. Never be afraid to face your trauma or fear; nothing is unbreakable or impossible. Whenever there is an opportunity, prepared or not, grab it, and you'll have the confidence unexpectedly take over the moment you have secured the opportunity. No matter how hard it gets, just stand your ground and be brave. Everything will be overcome because God will never give us problems or struggles that we can't handle. As long as we have the courage and as long as we have Him, all these muddles will be conquered.

#creativenonfiction #cnf_blog

[mind-coffee]

WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN YOU CAN'T WRAP YOUR HEAD AROUND CERTAIN TEACHINGS IN YOUR RELIGION?

Well this will be another one I'm not entirely sure how to answer, because you know, not religious and all. But I can try and understand, I can try and answer this question. I don't know much about the teachings of religion. But from what I remember of being forced to go to CCD classes for years as a kid, the only thing that stuck was the basics. You sin, you go to hell. In a sense, isn't that the whole point? You follow the rules of scripture, and do what you think is the 'good' thing so that you can gain access to the white pearly gates. If we do sin, we have to repent. Confess our sins to a higher power. Go to confession. Do everything right. I remember going to confession as a kid, and feeling so guilty because of the things I thought about religion. I remember hating it so much because it felt forced. And honestly, I don't seem to understand that. I don't understand the theory that we are supposed to be 'perfect'. And while I know the bible doesn't demand perfection, it does expect you to follow the rules of book so that you don't burn in the afterlife. Are we really saying that if we follow the rules of some book that was written by someone that we don't really know much about is the gold standard for what we should do in life? We all lie. We all 'sin'. Are you really telling me that if I don't beg for forgiveness to some higher power that I'm condemned for the rest of my life? Not that I believe in that stuff anyways. I know many many people that go to church religiously. They are there for every Sunday mass, at every soup supper, every volunteer opportunity that the church puts on, and honestly those people are the most judgmental people I know. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying they are all like that. I know there are good people in the world, that simply do good for other people because they want to but still accept them for everything that they are. Just because you go to church every Sunday, does that make you superior to me? Does that mean I'm going to hell? Does that mean that the 'higher' power you speak of, hates me? I just don't get it. I truly do not understand how you reading a book makes you a better person than me. That it makes you believe that you are the walking epitome of God. I just disagree. I disagree when people think of themselves as 'better' because they pray to God. You're no better than me, so stop acting like it. We are all going to die, and we are all going to put in the group. If you believe that after that you will have a happy ever after once you go, that's on you. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

Dig Deeper:

What religious laws do you struggle with, and why?

Like I said, I don't know too much about religion. I suppose I could say the one law that really doesn't make sense to me is the only one that I know about. I was baptized and raised Catholic, so I spent alot of time in a Catholic church. I knew alot of people from the church. I had made friends with people outside of the walls of a church, and guess what? We all did crazy, nearly unforgivable things. What I really struggle with is this rule that if you are Catholic, you are not allowed to condone a religion outside of the one you have. For example, when I got married, I wanted a man that I had known for YEARS, that I grew up with, to be the one that would marry me. He was elated, overjoyed even. And he told me he couldn't do it. The Catholic church wouldn't allow him to engage in a wedding that wasn't Catholic. I don't think that's fair. I don't think that because you follow specific rules for religion that everything that's not that religion is shunned. That because I didn't get married Catholic certain aspects of my marriage were 'unacceptable' in the eyes of 'God'. Again, it just feels like they are saying that if you're not with us, you're against us. I don't buy that. No one person is superior than the other.

What one thing would you like to change about your religion?

Since I'm not religious I can't say I would change anything about my religion. Maybe I could say that I wish I didn't feel like I was condemned to an afterlife of torture because I don't believe the same as my peers. Not that I believe in that stuff anyways. Truly believe that we either just go to sleep, and that's the end, or we get reincarnated. Haven't decided which one makes the most sense to me.

If you could ask God one question, what would it be?

I think this one is pretty self explanatory. If I could ask him one question, it would be, "are you real"? There's no other person in this world that could convince me otherwise. I've seen people pray to the sky and ask for a better outcome. It's never granted. Are they just praying to clouds or am I missing something in life. The only person that could answer that questions and make a believer out of me, is Him.

#religion #soul pancake #catholic #faith #GOD & RELIGION

[francisp0rter]

Strange Rumblings in Toronto

By Rivers The Poet

To tell you the truth, I'm not sure what I expected.

Since it's inception, Rolling Loud has been very hard for me to pin down, both conceptually and morally (stay with me, we'll get to this). On one hand, it's a celebration of rap music. An entire weekend dedicated to the most beautiful thing humanity has ever created: hip hop. On the other hand, it always appeared to me as more of a large-scale extension of the exploitation and voyeurism that plagues so much of the audience-artist relationship in modern rap music.

The reality is much more boring. For the most part, Rolling Loud Toronto was just poorly planned. I could sit here and list all the logistical problems that went down throughout the weekend, from faulty bridges to failing POS systems to near constant lineup changes, but I would be here all day. Besides, the biggest problem wasn't any of that. It was the rappers.

I'm virulently opposed to pretty much all of the popular critiques of rap music. I always make an effort to defend the music and culture that I love so much, and I would never want to add to any negative misconceptions that ignorant people might have about This Thing of Ours. That's why it pains me to write this next part. I hate to do it, but I have to tell the truth: so many of these guys can not rap.

It's such a weird critique to have to make in 2022. That people 'can't rap'. You'd think that by now, fifty years into the genre, anyone with a modicum of interest in being a rap artist would spend time and energy on being good at the actual craft of rapping. Not lyrics, but rapping. Breath control, voice control. You'd think that it would be impossible to obtain any level of success without having a grasp on those very basic tenets of emceeing. But this is not the case.

Instead, what you will see at an event such as Rolling Loud Toronto, are rappers with no breath control. Rappers who have clearly never rapped without punching in. Rappers who have no stage presence. And worst of all, rappers who don't give a shit about rapping.

I'm going to name names because this shit is unacceptable.

NLE Choppa: Telling people to open the pit and jumping around in one spot doesn't count as stage presence, and screaming until your voice is hoarse doesn't count as emceeing.

Destroy Lonely: I like your music but write a different song man. Literally just make a different type of song one time. Try it out. See what happens. And also learn to rap you backing-track-using cornball.

Tory Lanez: I hate to disrespect the king of Peel Region himself, but I witnessed this dude stand on stage for entire verses at times, not rapping a single word and just letting the track play. What the fuck are we here watching you for? Are you an emcee or a DJ my guy? Jeez Louise.

Smiley: This lovable guy actually had one of my favourite sets of the weekend, in spite of his complete lack of breath control. I give him a pass though. He's a big man and he's new. Give him some time. He was trying at least.

Outside of the performance issues, there was the moral issue I spoke about in the beginning. My whole opinion on this matter is a mess of contradictions, so bear with me, but the simplest way I can put it is this: As a fan of trap, drill, and street oriented rap music, I feel an incredible disgust in the way we consume music from these artists. People with no involvement or stake in gang politics will gleefully sing along to lyrics about actual dead people, people who were killed. They will turn up and party to music about death, addiction, and tragedy. Everyone who sang and danced along to Pressa while he rapped with flippant disregard about the murders of Sizzlac and Sluggah is culpable in this exploitation, myself included. But what are people supposed to do? When the beat is thumping through your entire body and the guy on stage is telling you that this is a cool thing you should aspire to do, it can be hard not to just rock with it. It's an uncomfortable question that I don't have the answer to.

Speaking of Pressa, his set was excellent, morality aside. His presence on stage was magnetic, as he played classics like Wass Gang, Canada Goose, and She So Pretty, as well as newer hits like Attachments and Second Hand Smoke. He brought out The Wassas, who assisted in running through a litany of Toronto party staples. The whole crew was on fire and had the crowd in the palm of their hands.

A thing I really want to talk about is a guy named Drownmili, who played Saturday at the Uber Stage. I was standing over on the grass smoking when I saw this guy come out with a guitar player and a drummer and a hype man. It was the strangest band setup I had ever seen but immediately I was intrigued when he played his opening track. I made my way over to the stage to get a better look at these guys. By the third song, the crowd had already began to grow. The eclectic mix of punk, hip hop, and indie rock that boomed from the mainstage made easy work of attracting hordes of pale-jean-wearing youngsters who all seemed equally surprised and intrigued by how fucking good this guy and his band were.

A thing I don't want to talk about at all is Future. I'm upset with him at this current juncture, but I think deep down I'm really just upset with myself. If you were there, you know what happened. But I won't speak on it. I can't. It's too fresh.

On Sunday I travelled back in time to 2016 into a sea of four-sided longsleeves and black skinny jeans and finally felt at home again as Pouya, Fat Nick, Xavier Wulf, and $uicideBoy$ cruised through their expansive discographies. The best part was that these guys could actually rap. Not a backing track among them and they sounded incredible on a live stage. It felt great to see these guys actually take their performances seriously and deliver a memorable show to their fans.

All in all, Rolling Loud Toronto was a bit of a let down, music wise. I had a sweet time partying with my friends but that's not what I'm writing about here. I'm writing about the festival itself. And the festival itself was Not Good. There were good parts of it, it wasn't entirely horrible, but I could never quite shake the feeling that something like Rolling Loud will just never work. Rap isn't meant to be performed or listened to on a massive event ground with stages sponsored by Uber and cops crawling all over the fucking place. It's just antithetical to the whole thing. My soul died a little when I saw a candy shop called the Trap Mart and at least fifty white kids wearing ski masks. A white frat boy in a Hawaiian shirt threw up a Crip sign in an act of acknowledgement as I passed him and I got so confused I thought I was having a stroke.

Maybe I shouldn't complain. I don't listen to Yeat. I don't use Tik Tok. I don't wear huge t-shirts and small shorts and chunky Air Force Ones. This thing wasn't meant for me. But I still think rap fans deserve better than this, so I will continue to scream into the void.

ig: riversthepoet

[rynne]

I wonder if it is a bad thing that I don’t think I would have done anything differently if I were in Wei Wuxian’s place. I know a lot of people tend to think of him as morally grey and I agree for the most part but like... I kind of think that all his actions were pretty justified. Idk, maybe that makes me a bad person, but I kind of think they got what they deserved from him. Or maybe it’s just because I have a bit of a vengeful nature.....

What are your thoughts on the yiling patriarch and his brutality?

The thing is that I think your reaction is what we're supposed to get out of the novel. We are initially presented with a character who is said to have been a terrible person who did all these evil things, and then as we progress through the story we find someone who was actually justified in pretty much every way. Flipping that initial expectation is a major aspect of the story.

Maybe a lot of people tend to think of him as morally gray, but honestly I think they are straight up wrong. Wei Wuxian was not written as a morally gray character. MXTX said plainly in the postscript (currently inaccessible until the full official translation comes out, but it's been discussed plenty while ExR was still available) that "[b]oth WWX and LWJ are highly ideal characters, so there wouldn’t be too much dispute on their moral standing. They’re perfect as the protagonists." Reading WWX as morally gray is therefore twisting the author's intentions and not getting her intended message out of the story, which is about standing up and doing the right thing even when society demonizes you for it.

I am not phrasing this way to mock you, but I think that "the Yiling Patriarch and his brutality" is cultivation world propaganda that a disturbing amount of the fandom has bought into. All of WWX's actions were, in fact, meant to be justified by context. This is why we are initially presented with the actions without that context -- for the greater impact when we get to a flashback and learn what really happened.

So, a non-exhaustive discussion of some of the "brutal" things WWX did:

Torturing Wen Chao, Wen Zhuliu, and Wang Lingjiao.

I personally do find this morally unacceptable, but I don't think the narrative presents it that way, and I think it’s important not to conflate my personal moral preferences with what the narrative frames as correct. The story establishes WWX as taking a very justified revenge after showing us only part of what he went through to drive him to it. Many other people I've spoken to found this sequence vindicating, because the story established that WC, WZL, and WLJ deserved what WWX did to them, and I think that's probably the intended message because the narrative never revisits this to question whether it was meant to compromise his moral integrity.

His other actions during war, including raising corpses of Wen ancestors.

It was a war. WWX did what he needed to help win it. There are two things that stick out to me about questioning WWX's moral authority based on this.

First, this was initially something that the cultivation world praised WWX for.

Someone spoke, “I think HanGuang-Jun only had a dispute with Wei WuXian because his methods were too unnatural. They say that HanGuang-Jun denounced Wei WuXian to his face, how he disgraced the corpses, how he’s cruel and loves to kill, how he forgot his original intentions, and so on. But over there, everyone’s talking about the battle of Jiangling. Wei WuXian is described in such an incredible way. I’d love see it for myself if luck allows it.”

[...]

Someone spoke, “From my opinion, HanGuang-Jun really doesn’t have to do this. Even the living are close to being dead, so why should we care about those corpses?”

Another person agreed, “Yes, we’re in harsh times, right? Sect Leader Jiang is right. In terms of evil or not, who’s more evil than the Wen-dogs? He’s on our side anyways. I say it’s fine as long as he’s killing the Wen-dogs.”

Wei WuXian thought, Well, that wasn’t what you guys said when you brought the siege on me.

(Chapter 48, ExR, emphasis and color mine)

So what we're meant to take away from WWX's actions during war is not that they were morally unacceptable, it's the hypocrisy of the cultivation world condemning them after the war when they approved of them during it.

The second thing that sticks out to me comes when WWX overhears that couple discussing his actions during the war.

During the Sunshot Campaign, all of these things were praised, used to inspire the people. However, the further the Sunshot Campaign became, the more fearful the people were when they mentioned it again. Not only others, even when he, himself, thought about it afterward, he felt that he had done a bit too much.

(Chapter 66, ExR)

I don't know whether he did do too much. I don't think it matters. What this passage shows is something the antagonists of the story are pretty much incapable of -- WWX's capacity for self-reflection. He is capable of looking back on his own actions and deciding they might not have been necessary. So whether or not his actions during war were morally incorrect, I don't think they compromise WWX's moral integrity because even WWX's later reflections on them show that he cares whether he did right or wrong.

Killing the Jin prison guards at the camp

He killed some guards who were keeping innocent people (including a literal baby and grandmother) locked up and torturing and murdering them. Unless someone already brought in the assumption that WWX was morally gray for doing this, no one would reasonably think it was wrong. The story certainly doesn't present it that way.

The woman seemed as if she was scared. She was even more careful, “No… I don’t mean anything more. There’s no need to be so agitated, everyone. I just feel that the words ‘killing indiscriminately’ isn’t really suitable.”

Someone else spat, “How is it unsuitable? Wei WuXian has been killing indiscriminately ever since the Sunshot Campaign. Can you disprove this?”

The woman tried hard to protest, “The Sunshot Campaign is a battlefield. In the battlefield, would it mean that everyone is killing indiscriminately? Let’s consider this as it stands. I really don’t think it’s right to say that he killed indiscriminately. After all, there is a reason. If the inspectors really abused the prisoners and killed Wen Ning, it wouldn’t be called killing indiscriminately anymore, but rather revenge…”

(Chapter 73, ExR)

Mianmian raises a point that no one there wants to hear, but the narrative treats her as right. She refuses to continue to be a part of the immoral cultivation world during this conversation, and we later find out that the narrative rewarded her with a happy life -- she's probably the person who got the happiest ending outside of Wangxian themselves.

Jin Zixuan's death

WWX had just been ambushed by 300 people for something he didn't do. Before he arrived, they cleared the area of anything he could use to defend himself, other than Wen Ning, who he brought with him. Jin Zixuan, with whom he already had a negative relationship and little reason to trust, arrived and proceeded to defend his cousin and demand that WWX do something that WWX had no reason not to think would end in his death. JZX then approach WWX aggressively. And even then, WWX killing him was an accident! A reflex! Nothing about this was his fault, especially not to the point of making him morally gray.

The massacre at Nightless City

Let's remember the sequence of events here. The sects said that WWX and the rest of the Wens would be safe if Wen Ning and Wen Qing turned themselves in. However, when WWX leaves the Burial Mounds, he finds that the sects are in fact holding a pledge conference to lay siege to him, even though he made no further aggressive moves (WN going berserk wasn't actually due to him, even if the sects are using that as an excuse). At this point his options are to confront the sects or let them bring their siege.

So he confronts the sects. And even then, he does it with words. He tries to point out their hypocrisy. He has made no move more aggressive than simply showing up.

However, it seems that showing up was in fact too aggressive for these people, because they escalate to violence when someone shoots him. Fighting only begins once he is established as defending himself.

Then JYL arrives. She successfully persuades him to stand down and stop fighting. Then someone else again tries to kill him, she gets in the way and dies, and WWX loses his mind.

At every point until the very end, WWX was defending himself. At every point, the sects escalated to violence first. And even at the very end, someone is not morally gray because they're pushed beyond their limit and go insane.

And even here, WWX proves his morality with his capacity to still feel the weight of all the deaths he caused, whether or not he was in the wrong to kill them.

Wei WuXian, “Nobody told you to forgive me. The things I did, not only do you remember them, I remember them too. You won’t forget them, and they’ll stay even longer in my mind!”

(Chapter 82, ExR)

The antagonists don't feel the weight of the lives they've taken. Xue Yang thought killing people was fun and only cared that he lost Xiao Xingchen. Jin Guangyao justified himself to the very end. But WWX does feel that weight.

He may not have been wrong to kill them, but they are still dead, and he cares about that! How someone can look at this and call him morally gray, I just...

To return to your original point, I think we are meant to agree that WWX was justified. We are not meant to consider him morally gray. To be honest, people frequently got better than what they deserved from him.

After all, the cultivation world killed him, as well as almost all the people he was protecting. Remember what the world expected of him should he ever come back?

If his spirit returned in the future...if he took over a body and was reincarnated, then the cultivation world -- the entire mortal world, in fact -- would be cursed to face even greater vengeance, sinking into an endless storm of darkness and blood.

(Chapter 1, Suika, p. 12)

And what did they get instead? WWX saving their lives in the second siege, exposing a murderer who had manipulated them all for years, and running off to get married and live peacefully.

He got the happy ending that his moral standing deserved.

#mdzs #mdzs meta #wei wuxian #the morally gray discussion #anon #asks #quote heavy posts #wwx is not morally gray