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holylulusworld · 5 years

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Salvation

Summary: Why can’t he stay away from you…

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Lisa Braeden, Sam Winchester

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, arguments, language, fluff, a hint of tension, a hint of crack ;)

This is the requested sequel to: Rapture

“I just lost the woman I love…”

The words leaving Dean’s lips make Lisa gasp. She always knew there was someone else in his heart and on his mind, but Lisa was too afraid to ask about the other girl.

“What the fuck, Dean? Are you kidding me? Not three years ago you promised to me I’m the one, that you want me, not your brother, hunting or another woman!”

“Lis’, I know what I told you back then. I promised Sam to settle down, stop hunting. I knew she didn’t want to give up hunting, give up this lifestyle or to find a way to get Sammy back.” Dean whispers not daring to look into Lisa’s eyes.

“Did you ever love me, Dean?” Lisa’s eyes are filled with tears as he takes too long to answer. “I don’t know. I thought I do love you, Lis’, I swear… but when I accidently ran into Y/N as she was hunting with Sammy I fell for her again.”

“So, she spread her thighs and you decided to cheat on me, Dean. Classy. A whore wormed her way into your bed, and you fell for her.” Lisa spats and Dean gets up, shaking his head.

“It’s not her fault, it’s mine. She tried anything to stay away. Y/N told me to never contact her again after we met. She was stronger than me. Weeks later I found her with Bobby’s help. I followed her for a while.” Dean’s features soften at the memory.

“Was this the time you were away for a ‘business trip’?” Lisa’s features harden as she realizes Deans started to cheat on her over a year ago.

Dean nods, glancing at his wedding band. “I was not happy anymore. Maybe I never was. All the time I was away, having a weekend trip with Dennis or was hiking with Scott I was hunting, Lisa.” Lisa’s eyes widen as she takes a deep breath.

“You won’t leave me for this chick. We have married Dean; you gave me your word. You said I do.” Jaw tense, eyes hard Lisa glares at Dean. “I will ruin you if you leave me. Do you know how the women in our neighborhood will bad-mouth about me? Lisa Braeden fooled by her husband.”

“Lis’ I never wanted to hurt you; I swear but I don’t think I want to stay married to you. Y/N broke up with me, burned all bridges. I must find her. I can’t keep on pretending I want this life with you. I know it’s selfish, cruel and not fair, but I need to leave.” Dean’s hand is shaking as he slides the ring down his finger, placing it onto the table.

“I swear I’ll make your life living hell if you dare to leave me,” Lisa yells now, watching Dean sprint upstairs to pack his things. “Dean Winchester I summon a demon if I have to. I know enough to do so.”

“Lisa, please just let me go. Why keep me here knowing I don’t love you anymore? I know this is the wrong way to call things off, but I can’t keep on pretending.”

Lisa falls silent as Dean walks upstairs not giving her a second glance. When her husband is out of sight she starts smashing things against the wall, yelling, cursing your name.

All the anger released she looks at Dean walking down the stairs. He feels guilty for hurting Lisa, but you can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs. If he wants to win you over, wants to show you his love Dean needs to commit to you once for all.

“I’ll leave you the truck on the money I made. I don’t need anything else but Y/N in my life.”

Lisa watches her husband leaving the house. She glances out of the window as he drives his dusted Impala out of the garage. Lisa doesn’t feel the loss of love, she only thinks about what the neighbors will think about her and Dean…

—-

Dean drives around. Restless. Shaken. Your apartment was empty. You left nothing but a note for him. ‘I wish you happiness with the woman you love, Y/N,’ was written on the piece of paper.

His hands grip the steering wheel tight enough to make Dean hiss in pain. Heart racing a mile in a minute he speeds toward Bobby’s place. It’s the only shelter you ever had so he assumes you will meet up with Sam for hunts there from now on.

Sam refused to answer his brother’s calls since the day he got his soul back thanks to you, not his big brother. Dean was in too deep into his apple pie life, his marriage, and the try to not let his façade crumble.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean curses jumping out of the car as he sees Sam holding you in his arms, stroking your back. Right there, outside of Bobby’s house, Dean throws a tantrum.

He runs toward your position ready to attack his brother to get to you but then his brother let go of you and just now Dean can see the tears stream down your face, your quivering lips and the way you avoid looking at him.

“Dean! What are you doing here? Didn’t you do enough? You are a married man cheating on your wife with the woman who always loved you. Do you know how heartbroken she was every time you left her alone after you had what you came for?” Sam’s voice is hard, just like his eyes.

“Sammy…I…” Dean gasps as you grasp at Sam’s hand, trying to make him stop telling Dean about your feelings and the pain.

“Please, Y/N. I need to talk to you…I.”

“Sam, can you give us five minutes? We can go on that hunt later.” Your eyes are red and puffy and Dean’s heart aches at the sound of your broken voice.

Sam’s glances at you before he enters Bobby’s house, mumbling a warning toward his elder brother. Dean is by your side in a blink, cradling your face to stroke your skin with his thumbs.

“I found you, Y/N.” Dean gasps. “I broke things off with Lisa. I’m going to get divorced. I should’ve never married her.”

Your eyes meet Dean’s as you try to find the right words. “I told you to be happy with the woman you love. Leave and don’t come back to me. I’m not doing this any longer.”

“I followed your wish. I want to become happy with the woman I love. With you. I’m begging you. Choose me. Love me. Please.” Dean’s lips brush over your forehead daring not to touch you too intimacy.

“Dean…”

“I never loved her the way I love you. I just wanted to keep my promise to Sammy, and I knew you would never give up hunting for me.” You start shaking as his lips press a soft kiss to your skin.

“Dean, I would’ve followed you to hell and back. Anytime. You just never asked me to do so…” Your voice cracks as you wrap your hand around his left one. Your fingers slide over his only to find something missing. His ring is gone…

“Where’s your ring?”

“I told you I’m going to get divorced. I’m all yours if you want me. I can’t offer you much.” Dean sighs. “I got my car, a few clothes, and a pissed little brother. I gave her all the money I earned over the last years, my truck and stuff. I told her I only need you in my life…”

“Goddammit, Dean! How can a woman resist you if you tell her shit like that?” You groan and he starts smiling. You are using your annoyed tone, teasing him.

“Just don’t resist me then…”

“It’s not that easy - I might have someone else.” You shrug glancing up at Dean. “Maybe he’s willing to share…”

“Share…” Dean chokes out as a wicked grin spreads over your lips.

“Share. Dean, come here.” You call and a German shepherd races toward you. “Good boy, sit.” The dog sits down immediately waiting for your command. “Such a good boy. See. This is a well-behaved Dean. Maybe you can learn a thing or two.”

“From a dog?” Dean asks as you gently pat your dog’s head. “Yeah. My Dean is allowed to sleep in my bed. A privilege you will have to earn first.” Turning on your heels you snap your fingers and Dean, the dog not the man, follows you.

“I can do tricks too,” Dean whines running after you. “I can undress with only one hand. I can park my car blind and I’m a master in…”

Your eyes meet Dean’s as he looks at you, silently begging for a chance. Your eyes narrow, lips pursed you nod. “Fine, let’s start with a simple trick. No other women…”

“That’s an easy one. I only want you…” Your dog is eying Dean suspiciously, silently snarling he tries to get your attention. “Good boy. Don’t bite the other Dean. Maybe I like him.” You chuckle stroking your dog’s fur.

“Only like me?”

“For more, you will have to prove you are serious about wanting me, not Lisa. I never liked this woman, but I won’t let you play with her heart or mine any longer. Make a decision.” Your eyes meet Dean’s. “Pick me. Love me and don’t leave me again.”

“I choose you, Y/N. Anytime. I’ll follow you to hell and back if needed.”

Clicking your fingers, you chuckle as Dean, the man not the dog, follows you into Bobby’s house. “I hope we don’t have to go that far, Dean.”

“I’m sorry for everything I ever did wrong to you,” Dean whispers as you pat your dogs back. “I want you to call her and apologize for everything you did wrong to her. After that, you have to decide if you want to stay here or go back.”

Dean wants to say something, but you press your index finger to his lips. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Talk to her first, then decide. I’m in Bobby’s guest room, come in or leave. Either way…”

Your feet carry you away from Dean as he dials Lisa’s number, clearing his throat…

—-

Half an hour passed as you click your fingers to let your dog sleep onto your bed. Dean took too long and you assume he decided to go back.

“Well, Dean. You’ll have your mommy on your own, I guess.” Your dog purrs as the door opens and Dean steps in.

“No, he won’t. I told her everything. There’s nothing left to say except for I love you; you are my salvation and all I’ll ever need in my life.”

Your eyes meet Dean’s as you let his words sinks in. You can see the tension in his body as he waits for your response.

“Sorry, Dean. You’ll have to sleep on the floor in that case.” Dean is looking at you, eyes wide as your dog whines, leaving the bed.

“Thank god you meant the dog. This is so confusing.” Dean mutters watching the dog lying onto a fluffy blanket.

“I like he was listening to me, takes care of me. My personal Dean – only wanting to be close to me.”

“I can be your Dean if you want me. Please take me back. I know I messed up for such a long time, but I’ll do anything.”

“We can try to start anew…”

“Hi, my name is Dean Winchester and I’m in love with this special girl.” Dean holds out his hand as you smile, shaking it. His thumb is caressing your skin while you chuckle lightly. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you, Dean…”

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx, @screechingartisancashbailiff, @fallen-wolf22, @sister-winchesters99, @mogaruke, @the-is13, @helloitsmeamie203, @strayrosesbloom, @thewinchesterco, @hobby27, @kittycatlover18, @gh0stgurl, @marvelfansworld , @sandlee44, @hawaiianohana31, @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt, @katpatrova17, @notyourtypicalrose , @heyitscam99, @onethingthatkeepsmealive, @natura1phenomenon, @flamencodiva, @echoesofpassion, @cocklesbelli, @voltage-my2dlove, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @thenamelesschibi, @lauravic, @fandomsrourlives, @wittysunflower, @drakelover78, @lemondropirwin, @lonewolf471, @wronglanemendes, @spnhollis, @void-imaginations, @jay-and-dean, @shatteredabby, @juniorhuntersam, @helpmeluci, @neii3n, @goodgodimaweirdperson, @alltimesamantha, @chonisberonica, @supernaturalonice @stuckys-whore, @shadowkat-83, @officialmarvelwhore, @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel, @wecantgiggleitsafandom, @meganywinchester, @shikshinkwon, @miraclesoflove, @yolobloggers, @guardian-tn, @lu-sullivan, @maniacproffesor, @hollymac79, @straycuties9, @kayla-2000, @ilovefanfic86, @gracefultrenchcoat494, @babygirls-fav, @sadn0va, @spnwoman @amiquette, @linki-locks11, @geekofmanyforms, @eggingamazinglove, @jessica-marsh09, @spnficgirl, @shut-themoonscone, @thequeenreaders, @countrygal17a, @kteelou, @soryuwifeyxx, @kricketc28, @differentstudentrunaway-e70bf763

If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason. Sorry.

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags

@spnfamily-j2, @supernatural-bellawinchester, @butifulsoul125, @lyinginthegingerlocks, @deans-baby-momma, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @20gayneen, @janicho88, @thefaithfulwriter, @dreaminemz, @negans-lucille-tblr, @sadwaywardkid, @akshi8278, @hhiggs, @midnightsilver16830, @mrspeacem1nusone, @ria132love, @caligraphee, @the-witch-in-silence, @multisuperfandom, @deansgirl-1968, @justanotherwinchester, @jadesupernatural, @squirrelnotsam, @gaveherhearttotheliontattoo, @shortwinchester, @roonyxx, @jason-todd-squad, @thevelvetseries, @spnsuper17

#spn #spn fanfiction #angst #dean x lisa #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester x reader #Sam Winchester #Lisa Braeden #Sequel #dean winchester one shot #request fill

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inmyarmswrappedin · 4 years

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DRUCK reactions - s4 ep1

Ages ago I said I wanted to write meta about Cris’ and Matteo’s seasons, so of course, when I finally sit down to write reactions to a Skam remake, it’s about Amira instead.

A few weeks back I was composing tumblr posts in bed before falling asleep (my number 1 hobby lol) when it struck me that the writing for Amira’s season was really… indefensibly bad. So let’s stroll down through memory lane and revisit Druck s4, or how to throw away your potential because you have to put out this season before summer is over!

CLIP 1: Dark clouds over Winterberg

Obviously I’m writing these with the benefit of hindsight, but I will try and incorporate what my initial reaction to a clip was whenever I can remember.

Sometime between the Abiball episode and episode 32, I argued (on twitter) that the Abiball special was the Abiball episode instead, the first episode of Amira’s season. It would thus introduce us to the conflicts and characters that would take place during Amira’s season. I thought that in addition to the obvious Amira/Mohammed, Carlos/Kiki/Essam would be important, Kiki’s family life would be important, Stefan would be important, and David/Matteo would probably not be important as they seemed to be doing just fine in their scenes.

I didn’t think Mia/Alex would be important because I didn’t actually watch their clip lol. The Winterberg stans on my twitter orbit thought the clip was cute and nothing to worry about. That should’ve been my first clue that the (twitter) stan habit of repeating the “we never lose” mantra doesn’t make for great viewing comprehension, because watching the clip, it’s so obvious that shit is gonna go down lol.

Mia moves from one of the flat share’s bathrooms to the other because they never really recreated Mia’s room in the s3 flat share.

I still haven’t watched Mia’s episode, so I don’t know how all this stuff is going to get resolved, but it seems like Mia doesn’t think they can handle a LDR, and Alex is picking up on those vibes hard. I guess I don’t really get why Mia is so pessimistic about it because at that age I kinda thought a few months break weren’t really an obstacle. (Not sure if it would help me to watch Mia’s season, because this seems like a wholly new conflict.)

Anyway, Alex acts sweet/reassuring (I really like how soft spoken everyone is in this episode), so Mia puts it out of her mind for now. But Idk, they haven’t really spoken about the elephant in the room.

CLIP 2: Don’t call them the chastest evak ever again

Tbh this clip comes across as a direct rebuttal to all the s3 commentary about David and Matteo seeming like they’re not into each other, or like they aren’t ~passionate~ like the other evaks.

It’s like, “these gremlins are horny on main, now shut up.”

But I like that they’re fully dressed, like yes, you can show physical intimacy without undressing your teen actors (shade fully intended).

I love Lukas von Horbatschewsky’s hair and I’m very jealous of Matteo in this sequence, lmao.

Luis Sepúlveda died of coronavirus this year, in Spain. You’re welcome for that bit of 2020 misery dripping onto this cute clip.

I do think David feels guilty that he may have caused Matteo to fail his Spanish exam because of David’s own issues, which I think is very on brand for David. Obviously it wasn’t his fault.

I really like how soft spoken everyone is in this episode, 2X.

And this has been said a million times by now, but David and Matteo are the one evak version where they’re the same age (Joana is in the same year as Cris, but is a year older, so she must’ve gotten held back at some point). So it’s funny, and possibly a reference to Isak and Even, to see David talking about what it’d be like if they had that age difference. Like, maybe David would be more like Even in behavior! And, going by Matteo’s reaction, he wouldn’t be into that.

This clip really feels like the ending to Matteo and David. They’ll go on a road trip, they’ll work on David’s movie, they’ll be around, but this clip is their conclusion. They both feel secure and content in their relationship, and ready for everything that’s to come.

Like I said on the post about Cris and Joana, I like that David and Matteo don’t have further issues. And while I have tons of issues with Druck s4, which I will be talking about forever in the following posts, I never had an issue with how they deployed Matteo or David. (Okay, self. Now say that again without crying about David’s season that should have been.)

Fucking David cutting their make out short only to then say such a highkey flirty, romantic thing to Matteo though. No wonder Matteo’s like, “STOP, I’M SUPPOSED TO STUDY.”

CLIP 3: A challenger appears!

I like the fanon that David is a healthy eater (or at least in comparison to Matteo), because all we ever see David eat of his own volition (i.e. not food that was made for him) is candy.

God, I love Kiki snatching David’s fruity gummies out of his hands. It makes me laugh every time, particularly how she demands to know if the candy is vegan.

Hanna looks beautiful. ;_;

There’s a split second when Jonas is about to give Hanna that box where David looks alarmed in the background. In my mind he’s all, “Bro, no. Not a public proposal. Reel it back in, bro!”

And then, to the surprise of Jonas and all the viewers, we find out that not only are Jonas and Hanna not together, but Hanna is dating German Arthur. Again, in “fandom refuses to acknowledge storyline conflict until it’s staring right at them” news, Stefan had actually been introduced via an audio to Hanna the day before, but people were convinced it was Hanna’s dad. Whose actor they called just to record an audio. Clearly.

My belief at this point was that Stefan would be relevant to Amira’s storyline, but instead it was just a way to give Hanna her own episode. 🤡

Matteo’s transformation into Michi is complete by donning his grandpa hat.

He also makes to trip David for no real reason. Throwback to Unter Wasser.

Matteo saying Inshallalalah in a sing song voice is cute, but so annoying.

Matteo Florenzi: He’s a pain in the ass, but we love him.

CLIP 4: I guess Abdi and Axel picked up his grades at another point

I love the way Matteo grabs David’s head to pull him along. They’re so cute and I’m gonna enjoy every second.

Jonas also grabs Hanna along, because fans needed to be further confused as to what was happening with Hanna and Stefan and Jonas.

Thank you, Druck, for telling me Kiki’s and Amira’s grades, but as you can understand, that’s nowhere near enough to satisfy my curiosity and I will be needing to know everyone’s GPA because that is the kind of thing that’s important to me. What about it!!!

I think, going by how impressed Mia is, that Mia’s grade isn’t as good as Amira’s. Which I think is a neat detail, since the Nooras are kind of supposed to be the perfect girls. I like that Amira is even better than Mia at school.

I thought the concept of Carlos failing his final exam and maybe realizing school wasn’t his thing would’ve been an interesting storyline to explore, but I’m not mad that it didn’t happen. Hopefully Druck will touch on it with the next kids.

And we’re now treated to three reveals about Kiki. Kiki has a sister (now she has two), she likes the idea of moving out and living with Carlos, and her mom isn’t doing well.

The remakes trying to develop their Vildes past s4 make sense to me. By the end of Skam, Vilde clearly was the character who’d been the most robbed of a season, there were several potential storylines to do with her. Financial instability, alcoholic mom, eating disorders, plus it seemed obvious that any season taking place during the girls’ russetide should go to her. And that’s without getting into Vilde’s strong denial that she was a lesbian.

So the remakes are sitting on all these potential storylines, but as we now know, they can’t make their own Vilde season.

And from a European TV exec’s point of view, Vilde (who in every version is a white, skinny, ostensibly straight girl) is a very safe main after the gay and Muslim seasons.

Cue the LITTLE SISTER.

I get why people are fed up with the Vildes’ prominence in the remakes that are in their latter stages, but at the same time we got 8 versions of Noora’s season, most of which are a limpdicked enemies to lovers story with a misguided sexual assault storyline tacked at the end. (And I say misguided because after a strong start, it’s mostly about what William will think, how William will react, I can’t tell William about this, etc.) So in my case, I’ve had quite enough Noora to last me a lifetime, but my Vilde thirst has only begun to be quenched.

Tangent over, Kiki lies that she’s not going to the lake because she’s going to check on Carlos. Bad form, Kiki.

CLIP 5: Graduation (Friends Forever).mp3

In clown news, I predicted there’d be a clip between the Kiki stuff and the actual dance (maybe a Sam clip), as it seemed to me there wasn’t much of a connection between Kiki looking sad on that ping pong table and PARTY TIME. Lol at me.

And speaking of clowning, while I thought the Abiball episode was part of s4, I also thought that was fine because it was just doing the multi POV episode in the beginning of the season rather than at the end, right? Wrong.

As much as it would’ve been great if Sam and Abdi had storylines pertaining to racism and islamophobia (whether Abdi is or isn’t a Muslim, people would probably assume he is), I also have to admit… This conversation is hilarious.

“I want to have intercourse with you.” [glass breaks in the background]

Abdi closing his speech with a wide smile gvvhvh.

The first hundred times I watched this scene, I thought Alex seemed a bit alarmed at the conversation taking place, but really… We’re back to stone-faced Alex lol.

Don’t kill me, but I feel a little bad for Abdi in this moment. He really put himself out there and Sam just leaves without giving him an answer, yikes. I actually got tired of Abdi’s sad sackiness during the season, but right now I feel for him. L

There’s this smile Jonas sometimes directs at dudes (like Alex here) that makes me think… Bi. He also directs it at Matteo in s3.

Ugh.

There’s a parallel universe where Stefan was the villain of Amira’s season, and it would’ve been a much more interesting season than the one we got.

Because Stefan is a bit of a Darth Jonas. He works for Greenpeace, but, at least in this scene, seems a bit full of himself, and like… twisting the knife in a way that feels like it has to be intentional. And it would’ve been so interesting if Druck had tackled the white dudes who seem like they’re not going to be assholes about Muslims, but then turn around and say some shocking garbage. I’m sure we’ve all met a guy like that before.

In my mind, Stefan would’ve driven a wedge between Hanna and Amira, which would’ve been way more compelling than what we got, but on the other hand, it probably would’ve made fandom people hate Hanna, and people outside of fandom hate Amira.

Anyway, tag teaming gays! I love how David and Matteo share a look and immediately take care of both Jonas and Stefan.

I also love it when David looks murderous. It looks good on him.

But I feel like this didn’t go anywhere? Like, Matteo always hated Stefan and continued hating Stefan until the finale. In this scene, David seems to dislike Stefan just as much, but it’s not a thread they bother following. It’s too bad because I think Matteo and David together sabotaging Stefan is a lot funnier than just Matteo doing it.

I love how soft spoken Amira is when telling Essam not to show up at her graduation party. I would’ve been a lot less polite lmao.

You know, I actually thought Kiki was genuine here when she said she wasn’t a fan of competitions. Obviously that’s not the Kiki we’ve known until this point, but like, I thought it was meant to show character development on her part, But we’ll talk about THAT more in the following episodes.

Matteo fully blames their win on David being so hot, mysterious and new, and it’s hilarious because that’s also what initially drew him to David. Like, “fuck you for being so hot!”

I thought it was such a nice detail that they brought back the girl from the refugee classes in s1. We’re saying goodbye to all these school people who are going on their own post high school journeys without us!

In my mind, Abdi and Alex are talking about something completely serious, like, I don’t know, Abdi’s dad wanting him to study business and Alex advising Abdi on the best business schools in Berlin or something.

I feel like Hanna is the one girl in the squad who really doesn’t feel ready for post high school life and I HATE the writers so much for how they wrapped her character up, but we’ll save that for later.

I could watch Matteo passing the tiara (=the main) to Amira forever. The way he tips his hat and looks like even he’s a little surprised that he (a character like him!) was ever the lead on a teen show, David’s voice asking Matteo if he’s coming, Matteo leaving with David to live happily ever after, the initial notes of Just Got Paid as Amira looks at nighttime Berlin. This meme is overdone by now, but THE POETIC CINEMA.

Jonas glaring at romantic rivals at end of year dances is iconic at this point.

Amira being tagteamed by an annoying little brother AND a well-meaning, embarrasing older brother. Choose your own nightmare.

I really love the set up for the Essam/Kiki/Carlos conflict. The emotional potential is SO good because on one hand you have Kiki, who wants to have a good time for once instead of parenting her own parent, then Carlos whose self-esteem is on the floor after having failed his final exam, and Essam, whose own sense of self-worth hinges upon whether white German girls find him attractive. Like, obviously Essam is never going to come between Kiki and Carlos who have been through some shit together, but with Carlos out of commission and Essam eager to please, you can see how the situation could so easily turn into a mess.

Amira and Mohammed have the most sexual tension out of any Yousana pair, period. They literally just said hi to each other and I already feel like I’m intruding gvhvhv.

Social media

David saying of Matteo: “Er bekommt Auslauf.” (Something like, “he gets walkies” because he’s been good with revising) is the cutest shit ever.

Remember when Stefan sent Jonas a whole ass message and signed it “with sunny greetings”? Stefan was much more fun when we were supposed to find him unbearable.

Kiki creating a new Whatsapp group for every single thing is so true to life.

I’d forgotten that Amira also hated Stefan almost right away. The season that could’ve been, I tell you.

All the Abi Chaker Clan content reminds me of how I thought Jonas looked like, well, such a child, compared to Stefan, and I thought that was intentional. Like, here is Stefan with a Greenpeace job whereas Jonas doesn’t know what to do with his life, and he’s like, spray-painting abi chaker clan onto walls and posting pics to the abi chaker clan account. It’s not that I thought Jonas should’ve acted like a whole ass adult, of course he’s having fun with his high school friends, but I thought Jonas might feel inadequate in comparison to where Stefan is at this point of his life.

I can’t remember who revealed it, but Sara was supposed to end up with Toilet Sam and that was supposed to come out during the s3 finale (on that week, Sara posted a story with a guy whose face was obscured iirc). Since that was part of the clip where Hanna and Jonas also got back together, which they cut to make way for Hanna/Jonas/Stefan drama, Sara takes some other dude to the Abiball. And I think we’re supposed to think that’s the same dude she went on that date with.

#druck #these are very heavily inspired by lightsandlostbells' format btw!#in case you wanted to check her out #about druck

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shesdangerace · 5 years

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I learned from my pain

Happy belated Valentine’s Day! Tumblr hates us all and might make this super hard to post here SO. I’m going to post as much of it as I can, and if you like it, you can check it out on AO3 (also linked at the end). I now present to you, a very Andrew Minyard Valentine’s Day. -

He remembers the colour of the sky outside the window.

He remembers the tree branch swaying in front of the glass.

He remembers the breeze that day.

He remembers the hands, the quiet, the pleading.

AJ’s first Valentine’s Day.

Andrew’s eyes feel heavy.

Allison gave Renee roses today, a question written out in cursive with a kiss on the end. Matt was talking about his plans in the locker room. Nicky has been beside himself thinking of Erik coming to visit.

Andrew is leaning outside of his open mesh-free window trying not to think. Cigarette burning down in his hand.

Andrew never got asked. Andrew never got elaborate plans. Andrew never got giddy anticipation. At least, not his own.

And now, he doesn’t want those things. Can’t want them. Doesn’t see a point in them.

It always came at a price, is the thing. And it was never enough.

Love meant crying without making a sound so she wouldn’t know. Love meant bleeding so his twin wouldn’t have to. Love meant throwing away the chance of it. Love meant cut brakes.

That was the love he was taught anyway, when his ‘family’ told them they loved him as they crept into his room at night, asking Do you love me? Do you love me?

Andrew was taught that love was cruelty. Pain. Bloodshed. A blind eye. Vengeance. Sacrifice. Loss. Responsibility. More bloodshed. He never knew what love was meant to feel like.

And now all Andrew knows how to feel is nothing.

There’s a knock on the door frame, firm and assured.

“Hey. Time for practice.”

Neil, standing there like a memory of a different life. Auburn and dressed all in grey.

The cigarette falls slowly from Andrews’ hand, swaying back and forth by the light February wind until it touches the ground of the car park below like a distant feather.

The cheerleaders are here. They’re being loud and it’s unnecessary.

Andrew doesn’t know why the cheerleaders are here. Honestly, it doesn’t matter. It matters that they are and that they’re being loud.

She’s here too, of course. She’s also a cheerleader after all. Not quite so loud though.

That may be because while Andrew is not looking at her, he’s looking at Aaron, and Aaron is looking at her. He’s willing to bet she’s looking back.

Aaron looks happy. Wistful. Awed almost. Where did he learn that? How did he manage to learn how to feel like that?

Andrew doesn’t look at him.

He hits balls and waves his heavyweight stick around for hours, while Kevin yells and Neil cusses out the baby Foxes and Nicky laughs like a demented hyena and Aaron feels all over the court floor.

Andrew doesn’t look at him.

And then Katelyn comes wafting over, blonde ponytail bouncing and hands wringing and smile matching the quiet one on Aaron’s face. A smile Andrew has no clue how to replicate on his own. And then she asks him, and he grins at her and says yes, obviously, and then she kisses him on the cheek and giggles and her ponytail bounces away.

Andrew tilts his head away and doesn’t look at him.

He looks at Neil. He doesn’t really have a choice.

He’s standing right in front of Andrews line of sight, close but not close enough to touch Andrew, smirk almost as sharp as his eyes. Batting his eyelashes like an idiot, hands wringing and toe nudging against the floor.

“Be my Valentine sugar plum?”

That cocky smile, that exaggerated posture, that orange bandana, that mess of hair, that shock of bright blue, that stupid, stupid idiot.

“Fuck off.”

Neil just laughs, that huff of gentle sound, and Andrew looks at him and can’t seem to stop. And Neil can’t seem to either, looking right back, smile just strong enough to bring out the subtle dimple on his right cheek.

How did he learn that?

How did he learn to dimple like that from bruises? How did he learn to look at Andrew like that from a lifetime of running? How did he learn to laugh for Andrew after knives and cleavers and flames and irons?

Andrew just looks at him.

Neils’ hands on his Exy stick are strong and unwavering and deliberate. Careful. Reverent.

Andrew just looks at him.

---

It’s two days before Valentine’s Day.

They’re at the coffee stand. The three of them have classes in 15 minutes but no one cares. Neil stands beside him, staring as disinterestedly as Andrew.

It’s pink. It’s stupid. There’s large lettering in altering colours of red, green, and yellow. There’s three black silhouettes like bathroom door signs. A red cross. A green heart. A yellow question mark. A lot of pink. It’s a poster.

It’s a traffic light party.

“Neil please, come on, it’s literally perfect and you’re the only one who can convince him.”

Andrew thinks about the colour red.

“No.”

It’s so vicious and ugly, so glaring, a screaming no that Andrew has had painted on his hands and his lips and his skin for years now.

“Neeeeil come on!”

Andrew has been red for a long time.

“Nicky, you have a long-term partner. Why would you need to go to this?”

Neil sounds tired. Neil is right to be.

“But Neil, that’s the point. Not only do I get to declare myself as taken, I get to show off my hot German husband.”

Red is not as simple as a t-shirt or a badge. It’s sticky and it festers and it stains like dye and you don’t get to change your mind once it’s on you.

“You know you haven’t even asked him to marry you yet right?”

Green is an unrealistic colour. It’s bright where red is dark, joyous like red is angry. A garish neon sign declaring yes. Yes, I’m here and I’m alive and I’m okay and I fucking want this.

Andrew doesn’t think he could ever be green having been red.

“Fuck you, Neil. It’s understood, it’s an inevitability, and the world needs to know!”

Green can start pure and be muddled and abused until it’s ugly and brown enough to be red anyway.

“The world does know. You’ve been talking about him non-stop for days. It’s annoying.”

There’s a coffee cup in his hands. When did that get there? Latte, caramel and vanilla. Neil’s name is written on it.

“Okay, can we please get back to the point? Which is the party? And that we should go?”

The sun is out today, and there’s no breeze. The skies are clear and still. Neil is walking beside Andrew, staring at him under his lashes every now and then as Nicky pleads his case. He’s walking close enough to Andrew that Andrew could touch him if he asked.

He’s wearing yellow. It’s a logo, on his grey hoodie. The drawstrings are yellow. Bright, like the sun. Hopeful.

After a while, after Baltimore and Riko and several screaming panic attacks in department store changing rooms with Allison’s guilty voice over the phone, Neil started to touch colour. Gentle prods, careful explorations.

He has an emerald green shirt now. Long sleeves. He has several Fox-orange articles of clothing that he wears in the dorm, the house, or with Andrew around campus. He has accents of colours on his shirts or his hoodie or his hat in the winter.

He has no blue brighter than navy. He has no red either.

Today, he is quietly yellow. Sipping his black coffee with one sugar and studiously ignoring Nicky in favour of watching Andrew ignore Nicky.

When Andrew asks and Neil says yes, in an alcove five minutes late to class, his fingers wind their way into those sunshine yellow drawstrings. He swears it stains his fingertips just a little.

Nicky is singing. A little bit drunk, a lot off key. It’s pop music and it’s incessantly loud. He got a phone call half an hour before. He did not take it well.

Erik has to stay in Germany for another day. A despondent Nicky had explained to them, and Kevin, that this means he’ll be flying in on Valentine’s Day instead of tomorrow, and this means that he’ll miss most of their first Valentine’s Day together in forever and Kevin would you please pay attention?

“Fuck men, seriously, Ari is so right you know? She just fucking gets it like, she understands and you know what I mean right Neil? Back me up Neil.”

Neil is in no condition to be anyone’s back up. He’s wrapped up in the embrace of the beanbag chair next to Andrew’s and he’s exasperated and exhausted. Nightmares. Not Andrew’s this time. The yellow was a particularly bold a choice today. But Neil is smirking in amusement all the same.

“Thank you, more like no thank you sir- “

In the corner, Matt is trying to film discreetly. On the couch, Kevin is paying absolutely no attention, waiting for his phone to ring.

As Nicky dances to the same song over and over, and Kevin bolts out of the room to answer Thea’s call, and Matt fails at discretion, and Neil radiates sleepy warmth next to Andrew like a furnace, Nicky bleeds.

He’s haemorrhaging love, the good and the bad and the ugly need of it. With the clarity of experience and many Wednesday sessions Andrew can see it. He can see the dark edges of Nicky, the sadness underneath his exuberance, his pain. He sees Nicky’s own sharp memories poking out from beneath his grin.

When he looks back at Neil, he sees the same understanding in those perceptive blue eyes.

It’s not about some pointless day in February. It’s about months without him. It’s about not knowing love without pain before him. It’s about conditions and fear and confusion and self-loathing and conversion. It’s about finally getting to hold someone’s hand knowing that he’s safe.

“I’m just saying I’m a fucking catch and I don’t deserve this, and you know what?”

Nicky stops here, stares at Neil balefully, then at Andrew, then back to Neil, gesturing with his whole body for the peanut gallery to speak.

Neil sighs and gives in.

“What Nicky?”

“I’ll tell you what Neil! I’m so fucking ungrateful for this treatment! That’s what.”

He trips.

And then, from his pile of slumped limbs and tired bones, Neil laughs. A true sound, a warm rich low sound.

Something in Andrew stutters for a moment. And then Nicky is throwing himself at Neil.

Nicky with his explosive love. Neil gifting his affection in laughs and smiles where there used to be none. Kevin breaking his single-minded devotion at the drop of a hat when Thea calls. Matt texting all the videos to Dan no doubt. All of them, loving each other out loud.

Andrew closes his eyes.

Nicky haemorrhages for hours.

---

It’s the day before Valentine’s Day. They’re at the traffic light party.

Nicky is bright red in the face from dancing, bright red in the face from alcohol, bright red in his shirt. He’s smiling almost as wide as he was when Andrew loomed over him in the locker room and said they were going.

Neil is wearing a black and neon-orange hoodie because he lives to be contrary and confusing. Andrew is wearing black because so does he.

The music is loud enough that Andrew almost can’t hear his thoughts. Almost. But of course, Andrew could never be so lucky, nor could Neil be so merciful.

The lights of the club are passing over his face like real traffic lights, sharpening and softening his face and colouring his eyes different shades. They could almost be in the Maserati, driving a touch too fast, Neil looking out of the passenger window, lounging like he belongs, smiling softly at Andrew’s reflection under the cover of night.

But they’re not. Neil is standing there like a living, breathing fuck you, glaring down anyone who gets too close, staring blankly at those who mistake his orange for yellow and then laughing to himself when they scuttle away. He looks gloriously alive, and completely unreal.

They’ve lost Nicky.

Neil looks at Andrew, really looks at him. Face like a storm.

The music gets improbably louder. Bass heavy. Rumbling. Growling.

Neils eyes get impossibly darker, his face impossibly sharper, his presence impossibly brighter.

He raises his eyebrow at Andrew.

Are you red or yellow or green?

Andrew steps closer and hooks his fingers into Neil’s collar.

Neil takes him by the edge of his black denim jacket, turns away, and Andrew follows the glowing shape of him through the thick crowd of sweat and mistakes.

By the time they reach the wall in the corner Andrew’s vision is all traffic lights and neon and storms.

Neil leans his head back against the wall, the bass louder still. He smirks at Andrew, but his eyes betray him and it becomes a smile. Warm and mischievous and foolhardy. He tilts his chin up at Andrew.

“So does black mean you’re taken?”

Andrew doesn’t dignify this with a response, just breathes.

“Should I take that as a yes or a no?”

Aside from the sharp roll of his eyes, Andrew doesn’t respond to this either.

“Andrew. Yes or no?”

Neil isn’t joking anymore. His eyes are softer than they have any right to be in lighting this sharp and dangerous. He’s searching, he’s already accepted Andrew’s answer.

The growling, rumbling bass around them is eclipsed by Andrew’s own growling yes, Neil’s lips brushing his like a promise. Neil kisses him like he’s desperate, not for his own sake but for Andrew’s. Like he’s been waiting. Like he just wants Andrew to know that Neil is there. Like he just wants Andrew. Whatever that means at any given time.

Right now Andrew doesn’t know what it means.

Neil tastes like midnight. And that makes no sense and it’s fucking stupid.

The lights are still flashing but the bass is different when Neil leans his head back against the wall. For some reason Andrew follows, can’t seem not to, rests his forehead against Neil’s. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and neither does Andrew.

And then.

“Andrew, can I hold your hand?”

It’s a wonder Andrew hears him over the sound of this stupid party. Andrew says yes because honestly, he’s mildly curious to know what happens next.

Neil’s hand is warm. Firm. Scarred and unafraid and gentle and soft and calloused and it holds Andrew’s so tenderly. Like a rose and not a thorn.

Andrew doesn’t understand it and doesn’t understand why he doesn’t understand it because it shouldn’t be complicated. He doesn’t understand how Neil can look at him and feel. Because he so clearly does and Andrew can’t seem to hide from it.

Are you red or yellow or green or –

“Fuck, there you guys are! Come dance with me!”

And Nicky grabs Neil’s hand and pulls and Neil, as sharp and observant and devoted to his Foxes as he is, would never say no.

---

Andrew wakes up slowly and way too late in the day, to see Neil still asleep. His face is half crushed into his pillow, eyebrows relaxed, hair skewed in every direction like hellfire. His mouth is soft in sleep, his cheeks flushed with warmth.

There’s something so different about Neil when he sleeps.

When he’s awake, Neil is all winter stillness, observant and contrary and dramatic. Ferocious and disinterested and loyal. Loose and honest when Andrew kisses him. Defiantly, viscerally alive.

When he sleeps he is just as still, but unguarded and vulnerable. Almost awake almost always. Soft and quiet, warm like a summer morning.

The February sun is streaming in through the dorm room window, and the sky is clear and crystal blue.

Nicky is beside himself with excitement outside the dorm room somewhere. Eriks’ flight lands that afternoon.

Because it’s Valentine’s Day.

It’s also a Saturday and that’s much more meaningful to Andrew. It means he’s not missing anything Kevin can annoy him for.

Eventually, Neil’s eyes open, and he sniffles at Andrew like a kitten.

It’s so rare to see Neil so taken with sleep. Andrew doesn’t often see this, Neil all strung out on the feeling of being only half awake, soft and malleable like taffy.

Andrew sighs and asks quietly:

“No nightmares?”

And Neil smiles, and that dimple is back on his right cheek. Such a rare sight indeed in February. And to have seen it twice already is almost hard to believe.

“No nightmares.”

Andrew nods.

Neil edges closer, just the tiniest bit. He’s almost nose to nose with Andrew, and Andrew is almost there. He’s on the precipice of something.

One of the worst things about being Andrew Minyard is that apathy makes feeling almost painful and hard to ignore. Andrew has no choice; he can’t lie and he can’t hide and he can’t run and for some god forsaken reason he doesn’t particularly feel the need to.

He gives, and lets himself feel the warmth of Neil. He whispers his name in the scarce air between them, and kisses him. Soft. Unyielding. Bee would be so proud if he would ever tell her.

Neil whispers right back. Kisses right back. Runs his fingertips between Andrew’s on the sheets without touching them. Andrew nods his answer and he feels Neil all around him like the winter sun. Sharp and painful and bright and vital.

Neil is awake, and so is Andrew.

---

At sunset, everything in the Maserati is cast in purple and blue and pink. Neil is lounging like he belongs, smiling at Andrew’s reflection in the glass of the passenger seat window. He looks dreamlike, like he’s feeling that feeling Andrew can’t name.

He turns to Andrew and asks. Andrew says yes and then Neil is holding his hand. He grins at Andrew and for fucks sake. How can he look at Andrew with that much feeling? Who was it that taught him how to feel it at all?

The sounds of the road echo in Andrews ears, the sounds of Nicky’s happy crying from a couple hours earlier in Erik’s arms, Neil’s laugh, his cutting remarks, his questions. Neil’s lips brush Andrew’s hands like a prayer and it’s possible somehow.

Somehow, despite all reasoning and logical experience, it’s possible that Andrew is capable of more than nothing.

When he tells Neil this, laying in the grass off the highway in the last rays of purple light, the look in his eyes and the depth of his kiss are evidence enough.

ao3

#andrew minyard #Neil josten #andreil #nicky hemmick #nickyxerik #aftg #all for the game #tfc #the foxhole court #Valentine's Day #fic #my fic #angst #mentions of past abuse #hurt/comfort #club scene #Valentine's fluff

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xxladylovexx · 5 years

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The crusade to cancel my talk at Toronto Public Library

Meghan Murphy

October 18, 2019

This week, three Canadian writers launched a petition demanding the Toronto Public Library cancel a room rental for a sold-out event, ‘Gender Identity: What Does It Mean for Society, the Law, and Women?’ Sounds frightening, I know.

The local women organizing the event, a group called Radical Feminists Unite, asked me in June if they could bring me to Toronto to speak about gender identity legislation and women’s rights, unhappy that the debate was not being given space in their city. This is not an uncommon sentiment. The events I have been asked to participate in generally have been organized by regular women who have serious concerns about how gender identity ideology and policy could affect, and already is affecting, women’s sex-based rights. Canada in particular has been resistant to this discussion. Due to media blackouts, harassment, bullying, threats of violence, smear campaigns, censorship, and ostracization, a few brave women have had to force the conversation, at great risk.

In January, a couple women took it upon themselves to organize an event in Vancouver, ‘Gender Identity Ideology and Women’s Rights.’ These women had no budget, no public or political power, no history in activism or organizing events, and no agenda, other than to open up a conversation they feel is desperately needed. The panel, held at the Vancouver Public Library, featured me and two other longtime feminist activists with impeccable records fighting male violence against women. The organizers and I received numerous death and rape threats, were protested, and were libeled by politicians and the media. The VPL forced us to move the event after hours (to 9:30 p.m. on a weeknight), claiming that protesters posed a risk to patrons and staff. They attempted to charge us thousands in security fees in an effort to pressure us to choose another venue, surely aware we didn’t have that kind of budget. The chief librarian, Christina de Castell, issued a statement saying the library did not agree with ‘the views of Feminist Current,’ my website. Castell did not say which views the library disagreed with (protecting women’s sex-based rights or the idea that sexist gender stereotypes are not innate?), but regardless, she should not have taken a position, as a representative of a public institution meant to be neutral, nor should she have spoken on behalf of the VPL, as not everyone at the library is in agreement with her apparent opposition to both biology and women’s rights. Vancouver’s mayor labeled me ‘despicable’. Canada’s national public broadcaster, the CBC, located across the street from the library, refused to cover the event or contact me for comment, despite hosting a panel prior to the event, speculating whether panelists might say anything constituting ‘hate speech’. Of course none did. Despite protests, the event went off without a hitch and was incredibly respectful, inspiring, and galvanizing. The impassioned talks are available on YouTube for anyone to watch and see for themselves.

But why bother? Listening to words and forming an educated opinion based on said words is no longer a popular pastime.

Things have played out similarly in Toronto. The primary difference is that it is now writers leading the charge. You know, people who should be invested in reading and using words correctly.

Not only that, but writers of all people should be defending freedom of expression and a public library’s decision to uphold its mandate, which, per the TPL’s response to the petition, is to ensure meeting rooms are available to the public ‘on an equitable basis, regardless of the beliefs or affiliations of individuals or groups requesting their use’. The statement goes on to say: ‘As a public institution, our primary obligation is to uphold the fundamental freedoms of freedom of thought, belief, opinion and expression as enshrined in the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms.’

This response was unacceptable to the writers and thousands of Torontonians (many of whom I’m certain would consider themselves ‘progressive,’ even ‘feminist’) wanting my talk canceled. Indeed, those who have signed the petition, ‘Stop Hate Speech from Being Spread at the Toronto Public Library,’ have publicly stated I am guilty of ‘hate speech’ and compared the organizers to a ‘hate group’. The petition, authored by Alicia Elliot, Catherine Hernandez, and Carrianne Leung, reads:

‘Those who want to disseminate hate speech today know that they can misrepresent, then weaponize the phrase ‘freedom of speech’ in order to get what they want: an audience, and space to speak to and then mobilize that audience against marginalized communities. While everyone has freedom of speech, we want to once again point to the limits of those freedoms when certain acts and speech infringe on the freedom of others, particularly those in marginalized communities. We also want to point out that hate groups do not have a right to use publicly funded facilities to meet and organize. This is precisely why TPL has a community and event space policy: to determine who and who does not have the right to use its facilities. There is a difference between denying free speech—and what is known as deplatforming, which is when you refuse to allow hate speech to be disseminated in your facility. This has been an effective tactic to stop those who capitalize on spreading hate speech, such as Meghan Murphy.’

The problem is I’ve never engaged in hate speech. I have made very basic statements about biology, such as ‘men aren’t women’ and ‘male bodies and female bodies are different.’ I have also argued that some spaces should be women-only, including changing rooms, transition houses, and prisons. I have said that individuals cannot change sex through self-declaration and that a boy is not a girl because he prefers dresses to pants. I have said that women have particular rights in this world due to the fact of being born female. I have said that women have not experienced discrimination in the workplace, in the home, in universities, and in politics because of anything they feel or because they somehow ‘identify’ with feminine stereotypes. In fact, it is the desire not to be limited to gender roles that inspired feminists’ ongoing fight.

Usually, I say this all warmly. I’m not generally an angry person but quite jovial, in fact. I don’t spend much of my energy hating anyone beyond slow walkers and morning people. I’m just telling the truth.

The writers who initiated the petition say they will no longer participate in events held at the TPL unless the library cancels my talk, which is fine, I suppose. It is their prerogative if they wish to hold readings for their friends in spaces untainted by free thought. Surely the condos their parents bought them have shared rec rooms available for such gatherings? Cozy bubbles seem better suited for those needing to protect themselves from triggers such as people with different opinions and experiences, anyway.

The whole scene strikes me as nauseatingly elitist, especially the entitlement with which these ‘progressive’ people approach members of the public — in this case, women with no particular social, political, or economic power — as though they should have the power to determine what we all think or say. As though they have the right to dictate what a library, of all places, should allow to be discussed within its walls.

These protesters are primarily middle- and upper-class people who have had access to opportunities most people in this world have not. Who live in relative safety, free from state persecution — who have the privilege of freedom in a world that continues to host dictatorships and incredibly repressive regimes that quite literally jail and murder those who fail to toe the party line. They have taken a postmodernist theory invented primarily within the walls of academia — that is, the notion that material reality is determined by inner feelings — and are attempting to impose it on the general public via force. These people have taken on the position of dictator, threatening to throw those who won’t adopt their nonsensical mantras in jail. Indeed, a former politician with the NDP, Canada’s leftist party, publicly claimed the event was ‘illegal’ while her supporters said I should be jailed.

On Thursday, Toronto mayor John Tory said he had contacted the library in an attempt to have the event canceled and is ‘disappointed’ the library declined to do so. What is in fact ‘disappointing’ (indeed, appalling) is that the mayor of Toronto does not understand the TPL’s mandate as a public institution and opposes freedom of expression.

These leftists seem unaware that opposition to free speech has not treated their presumed heroes kindly. They have so easily forgotten Emma Goldman, who was imprisoned for distributing information about birth control. And Rosa Luxemburg, arrested and killed by the GKSD, a German paramilitary unit instructed to suppress the communists. Surely the suffragettes deserved to be jailed and beaten for fighting to win women the right to vote, as their ideas were deemed too ‘radical’, not only by their opponents but other feminists and abolitionists. They have apparently not paid much attention to the female activists arrested and tortured in Saudi Arabia for advocating that women be allowed to drive. Journalists continue to be murdered in Mexico for reporting on police corruption and the drug war. But no matter. Protecting free expression is clearly a relic of the past, before we had multi-billion-dollar social media companies on hand to police dangerous speech. (‘On top of that, she has been banned from Twitter for violating their Hateful Conduct Policy’, the petition reads, as though In Big Tech We Trust is an appropriate mantra for supposed social justice advocates.)

At what point in history has suppressing subversive speech benefited the marginalized? Or anyone, really?

The CBC again failed to include the organizers or myself, the speaker, in its ‘coverage’ of the event. On a segment that aired Wednesday, Gill Deacon, host of Here and Now Toronto, spoke with Elliot, who stated that I was ‘trying to take away the rights of people’, ‘preach[ing] against human rights’, and did not believe ‘transwomen should have protections’ under the Human Rights Act or Criminal Code, claiming this constituted ‘spreading hate’. That none of this is accurate was of no concern to Deacon or Elliot. The CBC sees no need to allow me to speak for myself and explain my apprehensions because, I assume, my arguments are so reasonable people might agree with me. While Elliot claimed that I was ‘lying’ when arguing that gender identity legislation could override women’s rights, this has, unfortunately, already happened, as we’ve seen men transferred to women’s prisons, where they have assaulted female prisoners; women forced to leave shelters and transition houses on account of being made to share rooms with men; women and girls made to compete with and against males in sport; women’s organizations denied funding for having a women-only policy; and of course as we’ve seen a number of estheticians dragged to the British Columbia Human Rights Tribunal for declining to wax a man’s balls, because that man claimed to be female. What Elliot says there is no evidence for, there is ample evidence for. Which of course she would know, had she ever read my work, listened to my talks, or engaged in conversation with me, rather than using her platform to spout bigoted nonsense.

Ironically, if not for free speech, these individuals would not feel so safe to libel those they don’t like — which appears to be the go-to strategy of the Woke and Online. One wonders why they believe their speech should protected — even when hateful or slanderous — but not the speech of others. It is a modern hypocrisy I will never understand.

Unfortunately for these protesters and petitioners, the TPL will not be canceling the event, and I will continue to speak the truth in the face of threats, slander, harassment, ostracization, and actual hate speech. I will do this not because I have anything personally to gain from doing so but because I could not live with myself otherwise. I will not be silent while women’s rights are eroded, and I will not lie either under duress or to make friends. My integrity is worth more to me than my comfort or popularity, and yours should be too.

Meghan Murphy is a writer in Vancouver, British Columbia. Her website is Feminist Current.

#transgender lobby #library #free speech #writing #women's rights #identity politics #news #toronto #female erasure #feminism

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nutbrain · 6 years

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A story in which Blitz can’t sleep, but Rook is here to help. Prompt suggested by @kiruuuuu and I seem to be on a fluff binge so this happened.

Blitz had been trying, and failing, to sleep for the last three hours. The clock cheerfully mocked him; florescent red numbers letting him know that it was only 2am. Not enough time to get a good night’s sleep and too much time to pull (another) all-nighter. Blitz flopped over, kicking his legs this way and that while desperately attempting to get comfortable enough for his mind to finally drift off. After smushing his pillows for the eighth time and rearranging his blankets for the fifth, he thought he finally the spot. It was comfortable, the correct temperature, and he didn’t feel the sudden urge to pee like the last two times that this had happened. Relaxing into the bed, he was just on the verge of sleep when he heard a loud ‘thump’ and muffled swearing drifted in from the GSG9’s shared common room. Blitz breathed in and out, doing his best to hold onto his relaxed position. Despite his best attempts to ignore the noise, the moment was lost. Blitz smacked his head against his pillow a few times in frustration before finally rolling out of bed to investigate the noises.

He was greeted by the sight of a somewhat inebriated Bandit hopping around on one foot as he clutched the other, utilizing a variety of languages to cuss out the sofa in front of him in the dimly lit room. Blitz flicked on one of the lamps, startling Bandit into nearly toppling over before he had to drop his injured toe for balance. Once Bandit saw who it was, he grasped his chest dramatically. He was back a lot early than usual, normally opting to return around 5 on a weekend night like this.

“What are you,” hiccup “doing up? I thought you couldn’t go out tonight because you needed your” hiccup “beauty sleep.” Bandit slurred as he waved his foot a little bit in an attempt to disperse the pain. Blitz just shrugged and walked over to their small kitchen to grab him a glass of water and an aspirin for the morning. Blitz held them out and Bandit swayed dangerously as he reached to grab the items, still intent on using one foot. Blitz sighed and reached forward to guide him into a leaning position against their sofa, water sloshing dangerously close to the sides of the cup. When Bandit was finally standing on both feet, Blitz responded to his initial question.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Was all he said as he passed over the items. Bandit gave him a knowing look and nodded before stumbling to his room. Before he closed the door, he popped his head back around the corner.

“You’re welcome to talk to me anytime, you know?” Blitz nodded and Bandit ducked back into his room. There was no way Blitz was falling asleep at this point, wide awake from the short conversation, so he grabbed one of the hoodies he’d tossed over the recliner and tugged it on. Bandit would probably be asleep within the next five minutes, leaving Blitz to figure out what to do with his newfound time. Throwing on some shoes, the German decided to see if wandering around for a short while would help him sleep.

The building was eerily quiet at night, something that was always slightly disconcerting to Blitz. Either everyone was asleep, on a mission (like Jager and IQ), or out at the bars, leaving Blitz to feel as if he was the only one on base. No one was in the kitchen when he meandered through, so Blitz decided to make himself a quick PB&J sandwich to see if the food helped him. While he didn’t think he was feeling any more tired than before, it did help his mood significantly, especially after he topped it off with a couple scoops of Bandit’s strawberry ice-cream (a stash he was very protective of). He’d probably feel guilty about it later, but the man was the reason he was still awake and Blitz was felt like Bandit owed him.

Leaving the building’s kitchen, Blitz had to decide where he wanted to wander next. He opted to head back towards some of the dorms; if Bandit was home, the others would surely follow. Circling around through the common room, he opted not to flick on the light despite the fact that it was pitch black. At this point, Blitz could easily navigate the straight shot between doors. Halfway across the room, Blitz thought he heard a vague shuffling coming from in front of him. He paused and listened intently, but the sounds had stopped. He started walking again, his heart beat speeding up as the sounds restarted, and Blitz was wishing that he had flipped the lights on. He was almost across the room, now moving much faster, when he collided with someone hard and nearly screamed as he fell back. He scrambled for his phone and fumbled with it as the shuffling continued, desperately trying to get into the flashlight. When it finally flickered on, his heart jumped to his throat and he swung the beam up. He could have cried when he saw a sleep walking Jackal, who was slowly shuffling towards him across the carpet, stopping and restarting suddenly.

With that heart attack inducing event, sleep was probably out of the question for tonight as Blitz skirted around the Spaniard, careful to give him a wide berth. While this wasn’t his first-time encountering Jackal in his weird in between stage of sleep and awake, every other time it had happened he’d been with a group of people in a bright room. After Blitz was sure that the shuffling man was far behind him, he noticed his pace was almost a jog and he slowed down to a stop, breathing deep as he tried to calm down. After debating on where to wander next (back towards Jackal certainly wasn’t an option), Blitz decided to just to just loop his way throughout the entire building.

Padding past the infirmary, Blitz noticed that the lights were still on and decided to wander in; Doc kept weird hours but could perhaps use Blitz’s help for the night. He swung open the door and glanced around. It didn’t appear that the doctor had any patients, which more than likely meant he was holed up in his office filling out paperwork or reading a research article. He smiled softly as he made his way back to the office doors and knocked softly, hoping not to startle the doctor. When he received no reply, he knocked a bit louder before cracking the door and peering in.

Doc was snoring softly, arms folded across his desk to rest his head on. Blitz smiled softly at him, slowly easing the door open to let himself in. While Blitz was disappointed that he lost his potential company for the night, it was good to see the doctor sleeping. By now, pretty much everyone knew how often the other members of the GIGN came by to force him back to his room. Blitz was thinking about just leaving him there since he seemed so peaceful, but the position didn’t look at all comfortable and Doc would likely wake up with a sore back. While he was weighing his options, Blitz heard footsteps approaching and turned to see who it was, smiling as the other man neared.

“Hey, what are you doing up?” Rook asked, returning the smile but also looking a bit concerned. Blitz stood in the doorway, taking in his boyfriend’s slightly flushed face, wondering if it was from the cold or the alcohol before stepping to the side and letting him squeeze into the office.

“Couldn’t sleep. What do you want to do with Doc? That can’t be comfortable.” Rook’s look let him know that he wasn’t getting off with that answer, but after glancing at Doc, he nodded in agreement.

“Let’s see if we can’t carry him back to his room. He’s a heavy sleeper once he finally falls asleep, so I can probably help you get him on your back. At least, that’s what Montagne usually does.” Doing so without waking up Doc was harder than it seemed. The doctor stirred slightly as they scooted him out from his desk, but stilled after Rook shushed him. With some jostling and a lot of work, Doc was finally positioned on Blitz’s back and they set about turning off the lights and locking up the office before heading out.

The halls were still quiet as they walked through them, but they seemed noticeably warmer with Rook by his side. Doc nuzzled his head further into the crook of Blitz’s neck as Rook smiled fondly at the both of them, bumping softly into Blitz’s shoulder. Blitz leaned over and kissed Rook’s temple, loving the adorable blush that spread across his face.

They were almost back to the GIGN’s rooms when Jackal came shuffling down the center of the hall. Blitz and Rook shared a horrified look and attempted to skirt around the sides of him. Blitz took the right side of the hall and mouthed ‘zombie’ to Rook who was inching past on the left side. When the young man chuckled, it caused Jackal to sway closer to the noise and take a few more shuffles towards Rook. Seeing his chance, Blitz hustled around and motioned for the horrified Rook to move it once. Scrambling around, they did their best to suppress their laughter once they were clear, lest they wake-up Doc.

Finally arriving at the French dorms, Rook opened up the door to allow Blitz and his passenger in. When they got to Doc’s room, Rook realized that the infirmary keys didn’t have Doc’s room keys on them, so he had to go rummaging through his teammate’s various pockets. After a while of standing still, Blitz back was starting to ache, and he was wondering if the keys were back in Doc’s office. If that were the case, he’d gladly give up his own bed to the doctor if it meant he could avoid running into Jackal again. Though that would open up the poor doctor to whole range of pranks should Bandit wake up early and investigate why Blitz was on the couch.

Just as he was getting ready to express this to Rook, the man triumphantly waved the keys in his face and set about opening the door. Setting Doc down on the bed was significantly easier than getting him out of his chair; the hardest part was unwinding Doc’s arms from around Blitz’s neck. Once the younger man had finally laid his teammate down on the bed, the two removed his shoes and adjusted his position before covering him up.

“Why don’t you stay in my room for tonight? Running into Jackal as one of us walks back alone is too much of a risk.” Rook asked and Blitz couldn’t agree more. He told Rook what happened in the common room as the Frenchman set about getting ready for bed. The other man nearly choked on his toothpaste as the German told him how fast he had booked it out of there.

Rook walked over and they began the familiar ceremony of squirming around in bed until they could both comfortably fit. The beds weren’t well suited for two people, but as Rook pressed his chest to Blitz’s back and wrapped his arms around him, they settled into a comfortable position. One of Rook’s hands came up to run his fingers’ through Blitz’s hair.

“So, how come you aren’t asleep in your own bed right now, hm? Not that I’m ungrateful for your help, because otherwise Jackal probably would be snacking on some French brains tonight.” Rooks voice reverberated through Blitz’s back, part worry and part jest, a feeling that had come as a comfort to the German. Leaning back a bit, he contemplated what to tell the other man before sighing.

“I’ve been having nightmares recently. Nothing too extreme, but you combine those with the stress I always feel when my teammates are on a mission without me, and I just can’t sleep well, you know?” Rook nodded, pulling him closer and rubbing soothing circles into his hair and placing soft kisses on his neck and head.

“Just relax here with me. I’ll watch after you. Je t’aime, Elias.” The butterflies and warm fuzzy feelings came alive in Blitz’s stomach at that simple statement. They’d only started saying ‘I love you’ in the past month and Blitz couldn’t get enough of it.

“Ich liebe dich auch, Julien.”

There were soft sounds coming from outside of the room when Blitz woke up the next morning. Rook’s clock happily announced that it was 9 am. Stretching out, he did his best not to disturb Rook too much as he squirmed out of his grip to grab some clothes from his drawer to get ready (he still couldn’t believe that they had actually progressed to having drawers in each other’s apartments, and it made him absolutely giddy each time he thought of it). By the time he was out of the shower and ready for the day, Rook’s spot on the bed was empty, so Blitz ventured out into the common area. Doc was sipping coffee at their kitchen island as Rook set about preparing pancakes.

“Good morning, Doc.” Blitz nodded in the man’s direction as he sidled up to the counter. Rook passed him a cup of coffee with a quick peck to his check and a soft “Good morning, babe.” Doc looked mildly amused at the PDA, but refrained from saying anything as he took another sip from his coffee.

“Good morning, Blitz. Julien informed me that you were the unfortunate soul he recruited in his quest to make me use my bed. One of these days he’ll learn to leave me to my catnaps.” Blitz could tell the other man wasn’t really upset, but laughed at the horrified expression Doc suddenly made as he watched Rook dump an excessive amount of sugar into the pancake batter. “You’ve been hanging out with the Americans too much, Jules. You’re going to give yourself diabetes.” Rook scrunched his face at Doc’s statement and the pet name, adding extra sugar in defiance, looking for all the world like a petulant child. Shaking his head, Doc stood up claiming he was in need of more reasonable company and left the quarters, giving the lovers time to bask in each other’s presence without prying eyes, time that seemed to be far and few between these days.

“You’re going to regret adding that extra sugar, you know. It’ll make your pancakes far to sweet.” Rook stuck his tongue out and called him a traitor. Flicking batter at Blitz’s face, he began to cook their breakfast. Blitz went over to the fridge, digging out Rook’s favorite toppings (syrup, whipped cream, and chocolate) and grabbing some jam and peanut butter for himself. Rook beamed at him as he looked at the items Blitz had laid out and passed him a plate that he’d stacked with pancakes. The German did his best to arrange Rook’s toppings how he’d like, coating the stack in syrup and then drawing a heart on top with the whipped cream and chocolate. They traded plates so that Blitz could slather his while Rook cooed over Blitz’s impromptu art.

Sitting down at the table, they scooted their chairs in close to each other, sharing their little moment as they laughed at the drinking stories Rook told from the night before. Doing his usual of speaking before he thought, Rook let it slip that Bandit had left early so that he could check on Blitz, knowing he hadn’t been sleeping well recently. Rook admitted this was also why he’d followed shortly after. Rook begged Blitz not to tell Bandit that he’d told him, because he’d threatened bodily harm. While Blitz agreed not to tell his teammate, he knew that Bandit would never hurt Rook; the nicknames had gradually changed from scathing (‘baguette boy’) to endearing (‘Blitz’s cinnamon roll’) as Bandit gradually adjusted to the Frenchman entering Blitz’s life. He’d seen the footage of how fiercely protective Bandit was on missions, and he’d saved Rook’s life a few times in the field at the expense of his own well-being.

Shaking those thoughts loose, Blitz pulled Rook close and kissed the sweetness off of his lips. Rook smiled into it and rubbed noses. It wasn’t a heated or desperate kiss like the ones they shared during heated nights or after long missions. This was slow and loving, and when the two pulled apart to finish their pancakes, they smiled softly at each other.

Once the pancakes were finished and the dishes cleaned up, the two curled up on the sofa to spend a lazy day with one another. Blitz wrapped his arm around Rook as they leaned into each other and decided what to watch. As the movie began, Blitz took a moment to stare at his boyfriend, always amazed as to how he got so lucky. Despite how dangerous and demanding their jobs were, Blitz was convinced he could spend the rest of his life like this; enjoying his time with the person he loved most in the world.

#r6s #rainbow six siege #r6s blitz #r6s rook #r6s bandit

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master-sass-blast · 5 years

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I'm here to bring chaos once again! I LOVE Hadassah (my wifi has been a nightmare recently so I haven't been able to say so sooner) and I would love to hear more about her so hit me with all the answers from the last OC ask post!!

Okay, Tumblr legit wouldn’t let me post my answer to this the first time. *fumes*

(also ty friendo for asking bc i’m too shy to talk about my oc stuff of my own volition)

Here’s a picture of Hadassah for anyone who hasn’t seen her face.

Throwing this under a cut because this post is LORGE.

Their age: 33-35 (age/birthdays are legit the last thing i figure out if i figure them out AT ALL).

Their sexuality/sexual preference: Bicurious.

Any siblings/Only child: She’s got two younger sisters, Naomi and Ruth.

Their favourite season: Legit doesn’t give a shit.

Who were/are their parents/guardians: So, Hadassah comes from money. Her father is a ridiculously successful CEO who has his hands in a lot of pies.She’s not on speaking terms with her mother.

Their gender: Female.

Their date of birth: April 11th. She’s an Aries and it SHOWS.

What clothing style: Practical, durable, and comfortable. Style goes out the window when you’re a soldier.

What is their favorite food after a break-up: She falls on the end of not eating.

Their favorite thing to do after a break-up: Brood. Hadassah’s pragmatic, and she’s not about to hold onto a relationship she doesn’t want/isn’t working, but she has a lot of issues with the concept of being alone. Once the break up happens, she’s gonna spend a lot of time wrestling her inner demons.

What happens in the ‘honeymoon phase’ for this character: Sex. So much sex. She takes the ‘honeymoon’ part of the phase very seriously asfkjsldjl.

How many serious relationships have they been in: Two --the first was with her late husband, Samuel, and the other is the one she winds up in with Frank Castle at the end of her story.

What is their nationality: American, technically, but she comes from a long line of ethnic, practicing Jews that she’s rightfully proud of.

What languages do they speak: English, Hebrew, and German.

What is their profession/Education: Hadassah was shafted into the Army at the age of seventeen, so being a soldier as basically been the dominant part of her life. She is, however, that person that knows a lot about almost everything. If there’s a question being asked, chances are she knows the answer to it.

Their favorite comfort food: Rugelach.

What’s a food they hate: Bacon cheeseburger. She tried one once during a rebellious episode and hated it.

Their music taste: Classic rock, but anything with a good beat will do in a pinch. She’s not picky.

Is there a story behind their name/meaning: Hadassah is the Jewish name of the historical --Jewish, obviously--figure Queen Esther. Esther was the wife of the Persian King Ahasuerus (Xerxes I) and saved her fellow Jews from persecution/genocide. Her actions are remembered today during the holiday Purim.

Something they do that seems childish to others: She’s a bit of an adrenaline junkie, but that’s about it.

What is their all-time favorite TV show: TV was too hard to keep up with during her tours, so she doesn’t really have one.

What is their all-time favorite movie: Again, she couldn’t really keep up with movies while she served, so she mostly sticks to classics --however, she did like the High School Musical movies; she’ll watch those with her niblings whenever they ask her to.

How big is their family: Decently sized. She doesn’t have any kids of her own, but her eldest younger sister --Naomi--has five kids of her own, and her youngest sister --Ruth--has seven kids and counting, which gives Hadassah an army of niblings to look after/spoil.

Are they close to anyone specific in the family: Hadassah isn’t really close to anyone after serving/being discharged from service. Her time in the Army changed her a lot --from her point of view--and she doesn’t feel like she can be around her family without feeling painfully disconnected. The only person that she’s legitimately close to that legally qualified as family was her late husband, Samuel.In her biological family, though, she’s closet to Naomi. They share similar personality types, which makes it easier for them to communicate.

Have they got any allergies: Nope. One of the benefits of going through the ‘Captain America treatment’ is never having allergies ever again.

Are they an emotional person: Not as we would think of emotional. She’s not overly sensitive, nor does she wear her heart on her sleeve, but she’s very comfortable with her emotions. They are what they are, and she doesn’t see a point in hiding them or trying to pretend she isn’t feeling them. If she’s happy, she’ll smile. If she’s angry, she’ll frown. The only time she starts hiding her emotions is if she’s not sure of what she’s feeling; she likes concrete answers.

Do they get angry/lose their temper quickly: Yes and no. She’s remarkably cool-headed about most things --you have to be in order to be a soldier--but if you hit a soft spot (the people she loves/her insecurities)? She goes from cool to violent in a snap.

What are some of their guilty pleasures: Hadassah feels no guilt for what she enjoys.

Do they have pets? Do they want pets: No and no. During her service, she had no way of reliably caring for a pet and wasn’t about to inflict that upon them. Post service --she was discharged due to a severe head injury--she can barely take care of herself, much less an animal.She will, however, spoil her niblings rotten with pets if they want them, much to the ire of her sisters.

Do they like kids? Do they want kids/have kids: Yes and (technically) yes. Hadassah likes kids just fine. She loves her niblings dearly, case in point.I can’t go into the reasoning behind the second answer without spilling a bunch of plot beans, but here are the facts: Hadassah doesn’t have kids of her own and cannot ever have kids of her own. For a long time, she’d decided to never have children outside of her inability to bear them because she thought, due to medical/mental reasons, she wouldn’t be a good mother.

Who’s cuddle buddy are they: Anyone who asks. Like, she’s not gonna cuddle with some rando, but if her niblings want to snuggle? She’s down. One of her sisters needs a hug? She’s there. Someone in her synagogue needs a shoulder to cry on? She’ll sit with them.

Do they have any tattoos: Yes. She has a list of names and locations tattooed on her arm. Several of her ancestors survived the Holocaust, so she has their names and the camps/ghettos they were in tattooed on her so their struggle isn’t forgotten/so someone can’t sweep them under a political rug and try to erase history.

Do they have any piercings: She did, but the holes closed when she was ‘Captain America-ized.”

What is their hair color? Is it their natural color: Dark brown and yes.

Do they like musicals: Sure. They’re fun in their own right, and since a new one isn’t popping out every other day she can actually keep up with them around her tour schedule.

Do they like marmite: She’s never been around a Kosher option and counts herself lucky for it.

Do they like glitter: For herself? No. For a prank to inflict on someone else? YES.

Do they believe in the supernatural: She believes in the supernatural beings mentioned in the Torah and other approved scriptures, and that’s it.

Have they ever seen a dead body: Yupp. Can’t be a soldier without seeing those.

Have they ever had a near-death experience: Also yes. Not gonna spill the plot beans, but it’s how she gets her head injury.

Have they ever broken a bone: Not any that belonged to her, but yes.

What are they like when they’re drunk/what kind of drunk are they: She can’t get drunk after her ‘Captain America treatment’ --and doesn’t drink alcohol after her head injury--but she was a pretty rowdy drunk as a teenager.

Have they ever drunk underage: Yepp.

What is the first thing they do when they wake up: Pre-head injury/discharge: check her weapons and secure the apartment.Post-head injury/discharge: about the same, but she also puts down the time she woke up, date, and weather in a journal to help her keep track of things/exercise her brain/make a safety net if she starts having memory issues.

Do they consider themselves popular: You have to give a shit about being popular to consider yourself popular, and Hadassah doesn’t give a shit.

How do they like their tea/coffee: Black. It’s the easiest way to make sure her coffee’s Kosher.She doesn’t drink tea.

What do they smell like: “You can find out at your own fucking risk.” -- Hadassah, at some point.(This is a weird question, lol.)

Are they a virgin: Nnnnope.

Do they wear glasses/contacts: Also no. Another other benefit of the ‘Captain America treatment’ is never needing either of those ever again ever.

Are they good at remembering significant dates? Anniversaries, birthdays etc: Pre-head injury Hadassah is a history BUFF. Not only does she remember birthdays/anniversaries, but she can list back major and minor historical events --international, mind you--for three centuries. Her list of Jewish history/timeline is even more extensive.Post-head injury, some of that fades a little due to her memory problems, but she does the best she can.

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learnspanishfans · 7 years

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How to Use Systems (Instead of Goals) to Get Results in Language Learning

What’s your language learning goal? Perhaps you’re aiming to reach A2 level in French in the next 3 months. Maybe you’re looking to gain basic knowledge of Italian before your trip to Rome in a couple of weeks. Or perhaps you’re aiming for German mastery. Whatever your goal, setting a goal is the natural thing to do when you start learning. Choose your language, set a target and work towards it. Over the last 13 years I’ve set some big language goals. Some I achieved, some I didn’t. And I’ve helped hundreds of thousands of language learners achieve theirs with this blog. From all my language missions and goals, I learned a valuable lesson: The goal isn’t what’s important. What matters is the system you follow to reach your goal. In fact, the wrong type of goal can actually hold you back from learning a language. Let’s take a look at why that is...

Goal vs. Systems: What’s The Difference?

A goal-based approach focuses on where you’re going, while a systems-based approach focuses on how you’re going to get there. If your language goal is “to become fluent in Italian in six months”, a very simple system could be daily Italian practice. For example, one of my big goals in language learning was to learn Arabic while living in Brazil. That was my goal. But it was the systems I put into place - daily Skype conversations, finding and filling the holes in my knowledge - that allowed me to reach my goal of being able to genuinely travel Egypt using my Arabic. The way to tell you have a system in place is, if you were to remove your goal and just focus on what you do every day, would still end up where you want to be? If you took away my goal to learn Arabic in Brazil and I still did all of my tasks every day, would I still have learned Arabic? I think so, because by that point I’d put in at least 150 hours of practice and had spoken the language for 91 days back to back. I’ll share some specific systems you can use for language learning in a moment. First, let’s look at why the difference between systems and goals matters to language learners, and why goals might be stopping your progress.

The Problem With a Goal-Based Approach to Language Learning

There are a lot more drawbacks to setting goals than you might think. Especially when it comes to language learning. Learning a language is a huge task that takes hundreds of hours. As such, language goals can be overwhelming. As Scott Adams points out, the enormity of your goal can start to create negative emotions. And nothing can stop your language progress faster than feeling bad about what you’re doing. James Clear makes a similar point about how goals relate to feelings - you don’t feel good about yourself until you achieve them. Of course, this can leave you feeling glum. The difficult emotions created by setting goals is part of the reason you’re tempted to throw your arms in the air and exclaim, “I’m just not good at learning languages!”. Let’s say you’ve set yourself the goal of learning B1 level Mandarin in three months. That’s a heck of a big goal (as I well know!) and if this is your first foreign language it can feel like you’ve got a mountain to climb. But you set out to do it anyway. That means you’re going to need to:

Immerse yourself in Mandarin (phone, computer, television, books)

Study for at least two to three hours each day

Have at least one conversation in Mandarin every day

That’s a lot of work to try and fit into your schedule. And, if you miss a day or two (because life happens and you might just do that), you have a tight deadline breathing down your neck. If you miss enough days you’ll be tempted to say, “Screw it, I’ll come back to it at another time!” and give up on your goal altogether. I’m not saying that goals are always bad. I’ve previously written about setting appropriate goals. I’ve achieved, and seen people achieve, goals that most people would have called “unrealistic” or “impossible”. But in almost all of these cases it’s been the system that they committed to, and not the goal itself, that created that success. So why are systems the better choice?

Why Systems Are a Better Choice For Language Learners

Many language learners I speak to are surprised when I ask them to remove their goal and just look at what they’re doing every day. They often find that their goal and the system they’re following to achieve it don’t match up. That’s why I consider systems-thinking the first step in getting real about language learning. By focusing on a system rather than a goal, you give yourself more control over your language learning. If instead of saying that you want to speak B1 Mandarin in 3 months, you were to say to yourself, “Every day I’m going to practise my Mandarin to a level that I enjoy”, how much more achievable would that be? In other words, a system is right here, right now, and in front of you. If you follow your system you’re able to progress your language skills, no matter how big or small, each day. And much like brushing your teeth before going to bed, language learning becomes a habit. On some days you may only enjoy learning for 30 minutes. On others you may want to dive into your books for three hours at a time. That’s a system in action. If you have to miss a day you can pick up right where you left off and recommit to the process. That takes away that negative, guilty feeling you get when life gets in the way of a goal.

Using Systems to Speak from Day One

The number one concept I talk about when it comes to language learning is Speak from Day One. That’s not a goal for you to achieve; it’s a system for you to follow. On day one you may only be able to speak two Tarzan-like sentences, like “I Benny. Me blogger”. That conversation might be 10 seconds long. But after two weeks that will grow to a real introduction about who you are, where you’re from and what you do, and asking questions back. You’ll start to see real progress unfolding right before your eyes. It also has a built-in feedback loop. You can see what you’re doing right (positive feedback) and see where you need to improve (negative feedback). In the next section let’s look at some systems you can implement to make consistent progress with your language learning.

What Systems Can Language Learners Use?

The Seinfeld Strategy: A Little Practice Every Day

This system comes straight from the famous comedian, Jerry Seinfeld! It’s a system for creating consistency and building momentum, which is perfect for language learning. All you need for this is a calendar and a pen. Seinfeld believed that the best way to create good jokes was to write jokes every single day. I firmly believe that the best way to learn a language is to practise it every day! Let’s say you want to learn German. Each day that you sit down to practise German, no matter how long for, you can go to your calendar and put a big cross through the day, marking that you’ve accomplished what you set out to do. After a few days you’ve got a stack of crosses that show you just how much you’ve achieved. It also gives you a big positive feeling when you go up and cross out the day. After three months you’ll have so many crosses you can’t help but see how far you’ve progressed!

Habit Stacking: Tying Language Learning To A Bigger Routine

Trying to force a new skill or habit into your day can feel quite hard. But as SJ Scott writes in his book, Habit Stacking if you tie your language learning system to a bigger routine, it’s much easier to stay on track. Your day has lots of different routines in it. Getting up in the morning, commuting to work, eating your lunch, coming home from work, going to bed, to name just a few. By using these habits you already have you can begin to add other habits into that framework. Let’s say you’re on your lunch break at work, which might look like this:

You go for lunch at 12:30

You get your lunch out of the work fridge and sit at the desk

You eat

You wash your tupperware

You go back to work

These are all habits you have (whether you realise it or not) and you can use them as a framework to add in your next habit. So, where could you add your language learning into here? I’d say you could do it right here:

You eat

You review your Anki flashcards

You wash your tupperware

You don’t have to move because your phone is probably already in your pocket. There’s also usually a bit of time between eating and going back to work so you can slot it in perfectly.

HabitBull: The Habit Coach In Your Pocket

I love it when I find tech that can help you. And, HabitBull is a cool little habit app that helps you create a system for your language learning. My friend Maneesh wrote a great post about how creating a system of tiny actions, like just opening the Duolingo app, can be the start of lifelong language habit. That ties in perfectly with your new system-based approach. Choose a tiny action like opening your language workbook, logging into italki or opening Anki, and set it as a habit in HabitBull. Then set it as your habit to achieve for that day. It’ll then remind you when you should complete that action. It’s the coming together of the last two steps because you can feel the gratification of ticking the box to say you’ve completed it. And, you even get daily motivational message to keep you pushing through too! You can also time it to be part of a bigger routine, like your lunch break, so you can begin to really cement that habit.

Time to Put Your Language Learning System in Place

Having a language-learning goal to aim for is a great place to start, but without a solid system in place you’re setting yourself up to fail. So now is the time for you to focus less on where you want to be and begin to look at what you’re going to do. Think about how you want to approach your language learning and implement it into your day-to-day routine. If you’re able to create a system where you can immerse yourself at home for three hours a day, then take advantage of it. Or if small steps and incremental daily progress are your cup of tea, start there. Your system should be unique to you and how you learn. The most important part of this is to commit to your process and focus on what you can achieve right now. What system will you follow as a result of reading this article? What systems do you already follow? Let me know in the comments.

The post How to Use Systems (Instead of Goals) to Get Results in Language Learning appeared first on Fluent in 3 months - Language Hacking and Travel Tips.

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shhhimwritingat3am · 7 years

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Ashes to Fire Part II

PHOENIX

I tell Fadi my story: the reason behind my serious façade, the reason why I don’t sleep over anywhere, why I don’t let anyone in, why I’m not with anyone even though I’m twenty-eight years old. I tell him every excruciating detail. At some point Kay walks in and comes to my other side. She holds me in her embrace willing me strength. She’s never heard me talk about Daniel and the girls in these four years. With her presence, and as I tell the stories, I’m taken back to what I hold now a less complicated time.

I’m 15 year’s old. There’s a party later and I’ve decided to take Paul with me. He came from Germany to spend the summer with my family and I feel bad leaving him behind. Our grandmothers were cousins so we’re practically family. We get to the party and I see Alexander talking to Sofia. I rush up to him and give him a big hug and kiss. “Alexei! Cuando llegastes?” I ask him. He smiles that signature half smile of his, “Hoy. Aterize y vine directo pa’ ‘ca.” I laugh and turn to Paul, “Alexei’s been off at boarding school in England. He comes back every Christmas, but last year his family went to spend it over there.” I see comprehension flood Paul’s face. I introduce the two boys and grab Paul’s hand to go dance. I feel it’s my obligation to teach him to dance correctly. Like I tell him, “That way all those German girls won’t know what hit ‘em.” We dance a little and I think to myself, “Now, they’ll all notice.” Always saying I’m just like a sister to them. Ugh, so annoying. Now they’ll see me with Paul and realize I’m not a sister. “Is he your boyfriend?” Paul asks me interrupting my childish game. “Huh? No. Not at all. It’s just I’ve known him, just like everyone else, since I was a baby practically.” “Oh.” He says. I work my way around the party. Introducing Paul to everyone and talking to people about plans for New Year’s Eve. I leave Paul talking about soccer with some guys. I head over to the makeshift bar in the far corner of the patio. I grab a beer out of the blue cooler on the floor for Paul and set it on top of the bar. Then I walk around it to the mini-fridge and take out the vodka and cranberry juice. I pour myself a glass. As I’m finishing it up with a slice of orange Alexei comes up and sits down on one of the wobbly stools. Without looking up at him I say, “I wouldn’t sit on that if I were you.” He smiles, “These old things will never break. Remember Cody?” I laugh at the memory. “How much do you think he weighed back then? Let’s see if it will hold us.” I look at him with a squint. “Very cute.” He opens his arms to me, “C’mon. You say it won’t withstand us and I say it will. If I win you kiss me. If you win I kiss you.” “Ha. Ha,” I say drily. I grab my drink and try grabbing Paul’s before he puts his hand on mine stopping me from grabbing the beer. “C’mon. Don’t be like that. I just got here.” “It doesn’t mean you can get what you want. Your parents may do that out of guilt, but I don’t feel guilty.” He puts his hand to his chest, “That hurts.” He still has his hand on mine and makes me sit on his lap. I look at him, “Happy?” “Very,” he breathes in my face. I can smell the sweetness of the rum and cokes he’s been having. I try getting up and lose my balance and fall right back down on his lap again. The stool collapses. My drink spills all over my dress and more than half the party sees my black G-string. Alexei is laughing so hard he can’t get up. I scramble to straighten my dress but keep losing my balance. Alexei still hasn’t let go of my hand. “Sueltame!” I yell at him. Finally he frees my hand and I’m able to get up more successfully. I storm off the patio and ask a friend for a cigarette on my way to the front of the house. Instead, she gives me a blunt by mistake. I look at it in frustration and put in my pocket. I lean against the wall by the front door and stare at all the chauffeurs. Some of them are asleep in the big SUVs, others are walking about smoking a cigarette. I walk over to one of them and ask for one. He says he doesn’t have anymore. Bummed I head back to the front steps and sit down. I hear him before he approaches me. “Porfa, Alexei. Deja de molestarme.” I tell him. “Ay Nix, no sea asi. It’s not like no one’s ever seen your ass before.” It’s not Alexei, but Daniel. I smile at him. “When did you get here?” “Just in time.” I roll my eyes at him, “Why do you all have to be so annoying.” “C’mon, Nix. You have a very nice ass. At least it doesn’t look like Alejandrina’s.” We laugh. I give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks.” “For what?” He smiles looking into my eyes. “For making me laugh as usual.” He laughs a good hearty laugh. “Anytime, Phoenix.”

*****

Daniel grabs my hand and we walk up the stairs to the party. We walk in and immediately a server offers us something to drink. I take one, but he doesn’t. We dance and I drink and we laugh with our friends. After my third drink Dani takes me outside to the balcony. We look at all the drunk people passing by. We throw tiny pieces of ice on them and watching their reaction. We laugh and continue to play this evil game. “Phoenix?” Dani asks. I look at him, suddenly feeling alarmed. I see him coming in closer and knowing what he is about to do I grab his hand and pull him onto the dance floor. “Let’s dance. I love this song.”

FADI

“Ten years ago I married a man I had known my whole life.” Phoenix begins to tell her story and already with that sentence, I want to bolt fearing the worst. “It was one of three of the happiest moments of my life. A year later we had a baby girl named Loraina. She was a gorgeous thing with eyes as blue and deep as the ocean and hair as black and shiny as ebony. I never thought I could love the way I did with her. She was everything to me. I took motherhood very seriously. I read books, I did research on the Internet, I asked other mothers about their ideas on parenthood. Every moment was a learning opportunity for me. We were always learning. Sometimes I’d teach her things that I already knew and sometimes we’d learn interesting things together. We went to museums, parks, and the beach all the time. I taught her to speak, to walk, to eat, to spell, to read, to ride her bike, everything you can imagine. She was my life. And Daniel would add on to whatever we were doing in the afternoons and weekends. We were always busy but somehow not. We led a very carefree life; almost hippie-like. We had no worries, no big ones anyways. Then, when I was about to turn twenty-three we had a second baby; a little girl. We named her Cora. She looked nothing like her sister. Loraina was in love with Cora. She would help me with everything. I had two beautiful daughters. Our lives couldn’t get any better. Just after Cora’s third birthday Daniel and I got into our biggest fight yet. I can’t remember what it was about. It could have been about his grandmother or about my group of friends and their crazy antics. It was dumb, but it was aggressive. I told him that I wanted a break. I wanted to escape of being all these titles (mother, wife, lover, friend, etc) for a little while. He takes a mini-vacation with his firm all the time. I wanted the same. That’s when the argument escalated. He got the kids and said, “Fine. You want a break? I’ll give you one.” I never thought it’d be permanent. It’s been four years this February since their death. These past few years I have tried to erase that from my memory. I have forgotten how things really ended. How my babies and husband were ripped away from me as if I didn’t deserve them. And for the first year that’s exactly how I felt. I would wallow in all the negativity. How I could’ve saved them, how if I wasn’t selfish they’d still be alive. Now, I’d give up my entire freedom to be with them. I’d embrace all my titles just to be with them again. I’d be happier and more grateful. I wouldn’t think a single bad thought. For a few months I blamed Daniel for everything. I would go to his grave cursing at him and blaming him for the way my life was at the moment. That last stage didn’t last very long. After that I believed that God simply wanted to show me what He could do. I believed my life was perfect before the accident. I believed that Daniel was the perfect husband, the kids the perfect children, me the perfect wife. Until very recently I started seeing the truth. I’ve started to relive certain memories, realizing how imperfect we were.” She falls silent and I take it all in. Kay sooths her by running circles along her arm. “Kay thinks you’re the reason why I’m getting ‘better’ as she says it. Maybe that’s the case, but I think it’s the fact that I’m letting you in.” She turns to Kay, “Honey. It could have been anyone. Maybe I could’ve gotten better sooner if I hadn’t turned away from everyone. If I was still friends with Greta. If I weren’t so young. But don’t blame yourself, I’m the fucked up one, honey. All these years you’ve been my rock, and I think I’m here now because of your strength. Some progress is progress, honey honey. I love you ma soeur.” Kay starts to cry, “I love you schwester.” I slowly get up from the bed and walk out into the living room. I sit on the couch and stare out at the night sky. The moon is just passing overheard, but I can still see its warm light shining through. I run my hands through my hair, feeling…helpless.

PHOENIX

Kay confides in me everything she had been feeling all these years. We cry together, we listen to each other, and for once Kay doesn’t feel sorry for me. “I started believing that you guys had the perfect relationship too. I’d forgotten all those fights you’d had. All those times he left you because he took his personal vacation. I’d forgotten how bratty the girls were. How mom used to nag at you all the time. How do you forget all the bad?” “Some people forget the good. It’s a coping mechanism. The best thing is to remember all of it.” “Oh, Nixie. I’m so happy that you’re talking now. It’s been hell all these years. I can’t believe it’s been so long. I had no idea you were feeling all that, that you decided to keep moving forward because of me. I don’t think anyone would have thought less of you if you would’ve run home to Nicaragua.” “That’s the thing, Kay. Nicaragua isn’t my home anymore. Miami is and it will always be my home. My girls were born here, and you weren’t my only motivator. Everything that I do, I still do for my girls. They will always motivate me to be a better person. I don’t think I can ever leave Miami.” “I’m sure you can. Look at where you are now, compared to four years ago. It’s a big difference.” “I guess.” Kay and I lie on my bed until the sun comes up.

I leave Kay sleeping and I walk out into the living room to make coffee and banana bread, Kay’s favorite. As I open the refrigerator I find a note on it:

Phoenix:

I went running. I needed time to think. I’m sure you can understand. I’ll give you a call later.

Fadi

I understand, Fadi. I let the task at hand distract me. I feel the whole in my chest open up again, but this time I put my heart above it to shield it from any pain. I take a few deep breaths in and feel the pain from the gaping hole subside. As I have done, and will continue to do—one day at time.

* * * * * * * * * * *

PHOENIX

Kay and I are sitting down at the dining table eating an early dinner. We have about an hour before I have to drop her off at the airport. She had to change her flight information since we missed the earlier flight from sleeping in this morning. She’s grinning like a hyena, why? I don’t know. “Why are you smiling so big?” “Huh?” She says finally looking at me. “I just love Thai Beef Noodles. You know it’s my favorite.” “Uh huh.” I start to pick up our plates, “No way. Big sister. I’m washing dishes. Isn’t that your rule?” “Yes. Since when have you been concerned about my rules?” “Since now.”

“Dani! I’m home.” I say giggling, thinking of I Love Lucy! I place Loraina in her high chair and give her some Cheerios. She’s just learning the pincer grasp and I want to encourage that as much as possible. Also, I forgot to give her a snack during our errands. “Babe?” I call out again. I hear shuffling coming from the formal living room. I walk towards the room when Dani shouts, “Don’t you dare take another step!” He rushes out of the room. I take another step, “I’m warning you!” He comes up to me almost tripping over his feet. He reaches me, picks me up, and puts me back in the kitchen. “I said not one more step. Why don’t you ever listen?” I giggle, “Because then I wouldn’t be the girl you love so much.” “Explain to me why I love your stubbornness so much?” I reach for his lips on my tippy-toes and give him a kiss. I lean over him to check on Loraina. She’s happily playing/eating with the Cheerios. I smile at her. She looks up at me and smiles in return. Daniel wraps his arms around me. I rest my head on his chest. “I have something for you,” he whispers into my hair. “Yes?” I smile expectantly. “Grab Loraina and come to the formal living room.” I make a face. “The living room?” I look doubtful. He smiles at me as he makes his way across the house. I get Loraina and follow him. He reaches the formal living room and shuts the door. He takes Loraina from me and tells me to open the door. I throw the door open and see a very clean living space and a giant wooden piece of something in the middle. My mouth falls open as I realize what I’m staring at. “No you didn’t! Oh my goodness you did!” I squeal. He walks past over my stunned person to the bench and sits. He pats the space next to him, “Come. Play for us please. I miss hearing you practice.” I sit down and open the flap. I gently lay my fingers on the keys.

“Now why are you smiling?” Kays asks as she picks up my plate. “I was just remembering when Dani gave me that piano.” “Oh.” She looks toward the far end of the condo, where the piano is dusty and forgotten in a locked room. “I miss hearing you play.” “It’s just something else that reminds me of how I mistreated Dani. How much I yelled at him and got angry with him.” “What are you talking about?” “That night that Dani brought home the piano I got into an argument with him because he refused to wash the dishes. I should’ve made love to him; instead we had makeup sex. I was never grateful.” “What are you talking about? Sex is sex, as you always say. And anyways, that’s why everyone loved you guys, why they looked up to you.” “What are you talking about?” “Nixie. You and Dani were honest with each other. You guys did nice things to each other because you wanted to, not because you owed the other person. Yes, you guys argued and that was annoying, but you were always honest.” Kay goes into the kitchen and starts to wash the dishes. I stay sitting at the dining table thinking about what she just said. I get up and find the ring of keys and unlock the door that holds the piano. I take the white sheet off and blow at the keys. Dust fills the air around me causing me to sneeze. I sit straight up and hover my fingers over the piano keys. I close my eyes, take a deep breath in and play one of Daniel’s favorites. In the middle of the piece Kay sits down next to me and leans her head on my shoulder. I feel another presence, but I don’t acknowledge it until I’m done. I play the piece two more times, on a loop until finally my hands give in and I can’t play any longer. I look at my little sister and hug her tightly, “I promise to get better.” She wipes her face, “Well, come on. I’m gonna be late.” I help her with her carry-on as she gets her purse and passport.

I miss the turn for my street and I go straight to the cemetery. I wave at the guard and he returns a sad smile. I get out of the car and walk toward Dani’s grave. I lie down and summon him to me. I close my eyes and imagine him lying next to me with his arms wrapped around me. Without even asking him he says, “Your sister is right, baby. You can’t believe that we were perfect. We were far from perfect. And that is what made us, us.” “How can you say that? I don’t remember a single time we fought. We had arguments; that’s it.” He laughs at me, “How can you say that babe? We always fought! Arguments? Ha!” he scoffs. I snuggle closer to him and wrap every one of my limbs around his. I try to breathe in his scent, but all I smell is dirt. “You smell funny.” I say scrunching up my nose. He begins to stroke my hair. “Do you remember how lazy I’d get when it came to buying new clothes or shoes?” I laugh, “Yeah. I used to hate it when you left the house with your faded black pants that were practically grey. But I thought it was cute.” “Cute? Who are you fooling? For weeks you yelled at me every time I left the house in them. You gave me lecture upon lecture. How I should feel lucky that we have the money for me to buy new clothes. That there are people in the world who are forced to wear pants like that and I’m choosing it only out of laziness. When you finally got tired of talking you ripped up my pants. And when I got home you made sure that I saw you using it as rags.” I pout, sticking out my lip more than normal so that he can nibble on it like how he used to, “I would never…” “Phoenix,” he interrupts, “don’t you dare lie to me. Stop lying to yourself.” he sighs heavily. Then, the memory floods my head and I can hear my former self yelling at him and then using his pants to clean our wooden table. As the memory fades, I notice that so does Dani. I panic, “Don’t go.” He looks into my eyes with all the love I remember, “I have to babe. You need to start letting me go.” “I don’t think I can.” I say looking away from him as a tear escapes my eye. “I know you can.” He reassures me lifting his translucent hand to my tear to wipe it away. I pucker my lips waiting for his to meet mine. He obliges and then I feel nothing. I get up from the grass and wipe my clothes clean.

***

Kay and I talk often while she is away. I know she’s checking up on me, but in a way I am too. Despite everything, I still want to make sure my little sister is all right and that she’s getting herself into just the right amount of trouble. Kay has decided to spend the entire summer in Washington due to her internship; she’s set on moving there. “No beach, Kay? No more spaghetti straps, or short shorts. What are you gonna do with all those layers?” I laugh, but I already miss her. “I’m a chameleon. I adjust. And, besides, I love the nature here. All the pictures I’ve taken and all the hiking trips I’ve gone on already. Everything is vivid, but muted at the same time. But as summer goes on, it becomes more vivid. And there are lakes here. People go there and there are pools too.” “Well, good for you Sissy. I hope they offer you the position.” “Me too. I love the work I’m doing.” I hang up and continue working on a new proposal for IDL. In the course of three months we have secured ten children for appointments. Matt and I have already set meetings with several deans and school board members to discuss expansion. I never thought I could get this much done in so little time. I guess when you have so much time there’s nothing left to do. At nights, when I run along the beach my mind wanders and I think of Fadi. It’s funny how easy I can revert to hold habits. Thinking about when and if he’ll call me. Sometimes blaming myself for being too open, too soon. I suppose that the best way to trust someone is to simply trust them. Essentially I lost the one person I could trust, the one person who has ever known about me and my needs. Not even my so-called friends knew me enough, and when I did trust them, they stabbed me in the back. There are so many factors why I am in this state of mind; more than what Kay thinks, or anyone else. It’s never as easy as it seems.

FADI

I consistently think back to that night with Phoenix and her sister. The manner in which I fled, the cryptic note I left behind, and the thoughts that consumed me during and after the story—saying this girl is too much. I could never be enough for her, and I wouldn’t want to even try. At least that’s what I thought until I read her thesis in the Psychology Review. Just her name in print made me want to see her again. What man becomes weak at the knees for some girl? “Mammá?” I call the one person whom I know would understand this situation. “Comme va, figlio mio?” She says on the other end of the telephone. “Sto bene, e tu?” “You know your father.” I put my hand to my forehead and massage my temples trying not to react about my father. “What’s the matter, figlio mio?” “Mammá, I need to ask you a question. And I need your absolute honest answer.” “Si, figlio, qualunque avete bisogno.” I explain to her all that happened with Phoenix before me, and while she’s been with me. I explain to my mother that Phoenix is an accomplished woman. How strong I believe her to be, how beautiful she is, and how tender she is despite what life has thrown at her. “Mammá, cosa devo fare?” “I don’t think you have a choice.” “What do you mean?” “Fadi, you are in love and you have no choice in the matter. This is your fate. To be with her. The moment her family died you already didn’t have a choice. I’m sorry that this your destiny, but while fate is being cruel to you, it is being kind to her.” I start to get angry, “How is it being cruel to me?” “Darling, she will never love you as she loved him. You will always be second. It’s not what I would want for you. And as your mother, I ask that you consider forgetting about her.” I think about it for a moment. I think about these last couple of months without Phoenix, without seeing her on the beach or at Big Pink. For only knowing her for a little period of time I feel like there is something in my life, and it wasn’t missing before. I resign, “I can’t.” “Lo so, Fadi.” She says sadly. “Grazie, Mammá.” “Di niente. Ti amo.” “Ti amo. Ciao.” “Ciao.”

* * * * * * * * *

PHOENIX

“Hello?” I decide to answer the unknown number, fearing it might be Kay. “Hello, Phoenix.” A breath escapes my lips and I feel my heart beat slightly faster. Is that warmth creeping on my cheeks? “Hello, Fadi.” “Did you know you came out in Psychology Review?” He asks good-naturedly. ‘”No, I didn’t know. What is it?” “I’m assuming it’s your thesis. It’s very good.” “Thank you.” “How could you not know?” “It belongs to my professor. He can do with it as he pleases. I’m surprised he gave me any credit at all.” “Oh. Yes, I see his name printed here. He says he was a collaborator.” I laugh. “If by collaborator meaning he marked passed in his grade book, then I suppose he did contribute.” Fadi laughs. There’s an awkward silence. “Phoenix?” he whispers so low I can barely hear him. I don’t respond. “Phoenix,” he tries again, “listen. Are you hungry?” I smile, not expecting that and appreciating him not going back to that night. “Yes.” “Big Pink?” “My favorite.”

FADI

There are moments in life when one knows what to do, when one can see the light at the end of the tunnel and rushes out into the blinding sun. Sometimes, however, that blinding sun may blind you for too long and the other end of the tunnel may not be what you expected, but there’s no going back.

Phoenix walks up to me and gives me a chaste, respectful kiss on the cheek, “Hi.” “Hi.” I respond drinking in the sunshine that is pouring out of her. I open the door for her, I follow her in, and she walks directly to the booth we shared. “Phoenix, I want to say—“ She brings her hand up, palm facing me. “Don’t. You did what you had to do. It’s OK.” She rests her hand on my outstretched one. “Fadi, I understand I’m not easy. It’s the reason why I haven’t bothered letting anyone in. You’re the first person to get through to me. With just that I am already indebted to you.” “I didn’t do anything, Phoenix. It was you who decided.” “Yeah, blah blah. It would be nice to believe I’m that strong. But let’s face it. You’re an attractive, appealing guy. I wanted more than to just fuck you from that first day. So, no, I didn’t save myself. You saved me.” “You’ve wanted to fuck me, from the beginning?” I give her a sly smile. “Yes, you’re irresistible.” She says this as a fact, not a compliment. But I smile knowingly. “Ms. Phoenix, I’m sorry to say. But I’m not very hungry. Not for food anyways.” “You know, Mr. Ferdinand. Neither am I.” She gets up, grabs my hand and walks out the door.

PHOENIX

How can I explain the emotions playing war inside my stomach? It’s not even my mind that is confused. My mind knows the truth: I will never be happy, because I want what I can’t have. What’s going on in the pit of my stomach? Apparently, that’s where my heart rests. Maybe the cavity that holds my heart is too full of pain and sorrow that it can’t hold any other emotion, so it has spilled over into my large intestine.

Fadi reaches out for my hand and the warmth of his large hand wrapped around my small one brings back feelings that have long past. I feel like a Catholic schoolgirl doing something she shouldn’t. Now that the gate has been open every emotion is visible on my face, I can just feel it.

A dark thought crosses my mind: No matter what I feel for Fadi, Dani will always be present. I look quickly at Fadi and wonder if he knows this fact. I would never want to bring someone else along this path of destruction I have set for myself. I’ve already hurt enough people.

As much as I wish I could stop being with Fadi, I don’t think I can stop seeing him. Especially now that he knows. Especially now that my cheeks have some color in them. Especially now that my mouth is capable of twisting upwards.

As Fadi and I lie next to each other after we finish I realize I can’t stay with him. I can’t be anything with him.

* * * * * * * * *

FADI

I wake up to find Phoenix gone; no note. I stay in bed knowing this would happen. She ended things with me. She slept with me just to be sure; a pity fuck. I lie in bed and wonder at what kind of woman she was before the accident. What kind of woman did her husband date, did her husband learn to love? Would she be as enticing to me? This is Phoenix’s second life, she’s a whole new person. But how do I convince of her that? She’ll never forget her previous life, and she’ll always compare this life with that one.

As I shower I think of mergers and acquisitions, trying to get my mind off her. My cellphone rings as I step out of the shower and I answer it, “Figlio mio. Come va?”

“Bene, Mama. How’s dad?”

“Bene, Bene. Our flight arrives at 10. Will we have dinner after?”

“Si, Mama. I’ll see you then. Have a safe flight. Ti amo.”

“Ti amo, figlio mio.”

* * * * * * * * *

I look at my parents watching TV thinking when they’re going to go back to Italy. I love my parents, but they know how to comfortable in my house way too quickly. After watching them from the kitchen I decide to join them and sit down on the La-Z-boy in the far corner. My dad switches it to the news and the three of us watch it in silence.

My dad, the forever jokester, “So, how ‘bout them dolphins?” I smile at him, “Apparently, they got a very big player during the draft.” “Great.” He says trying to keep it going. My mother gives my father a meaningful look. “What?” I ask. “Mia vitta, I already spoke to you of the girl and I was right.” “What do you mean you were right?” “(in Italian) I don’t think this is the best time.” My father interjects. “No! This is the perfect time” I say brusquely. “Ascoltare! You left in such a rush. I went into my computer and wanted to check my e-mail. When I opened Gmail yours was already connected. I saw that you had an e-mail from that girl. I had to know if that’s the reason why you left.” “Mama!” “Mio bambino…” “No! I am not your bambino.” I interrupt her, “I am no baby, Mama. You must see this now. I am old, much older than you wish to believe.” My father lifts his hand as my mother is about to speak, “Ascoltare figlio. Your mama and I are worried.” I was about to interrupt but he lifted his hand to stop me, “We shouldn’t have read your e-mail. We were sbagliato. However, we did and now we know about this girl. We are not saying you cannot see her. How could we say that! Como vecchi, we know things you do not know. We’ve seen much more than you have despite how old you are. Essere prudenti mio figlio. Si?” I sigh out, “Si, Papa.” “Che bene!” he says opening his arms and smiling as if everything has been solved. I get up from the tethered La-Z-boy and think for a second how I need to throw it away. As I’m walking out I say in the general direction of the room, “I am going to marry her someday and I would appreciate it if you learned to not judge her.” I get my keys and storm out of the house. There’s only one place I would like to be right now so I get into my car and drive there.

PHOENIX

I was just about to head out for a run and yoga session on the beach when I hear a knocking at my door. Kay is on the couch reading and I’m still in the kitchen getting water and a banana. The knocking continues and slowly turns into banging. Kay doesn’t even stir. I sigh out in exasperation. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it. Who cares I’m juggling my ginormous water bottle and banana. Don’t worry about me. I can handle it,” I say sarcastically at her back. Nothing.

I drop my things on the entrance table. The banging continues getting progressively louder. It better not be a salesman! I thrust the door open.

It’s Fadi. Immediately the hardness in my face melts away into a smile. “Hey,” I say breathlessly.

It looks me up and down, “Was I interrupting you?”

“No,” I say looking puzzled. Then I look at my outfit; black jogging shorts, bright yellow sports bra and a white tee. “Oh, um. I was about to go running and yoga on the beach. Wanna come with me?” I say the last part slowly looking at his face. “Is everything alright?” I ask. I make sure he’s wearing sneakers and offer him to come running with me. He obliges and I say goodbye to Kay.

We walk to the beach in silence. I want to grab for his hand and hold it, but not sure how dating works for people our age; or for people at all. I shrug and argue with myself. Finally, I win and grab for his hand. He lets me hold it and I see his shoulders relax a little. Before we hit the beach I chug some of my water and stow it with the banana in a tool box I pulled out from the bushes. I lock it and place it back hidden from any prying eyes. I start to make my way towards the beach and beckon Fadi to follow. We reach just where the high tide stops coming in. I stand in front of him, facing him.

“Just follow what I do and ignore the rest, k?”

“Ok.” He says.

I let him have the view of the beach so that the calming waves soothe him. I always begin my yoga with the sun salutation stretches. Then I proceed into warrior poses and I end with inverted poses. Fadi follows every move. I motion for us to start jogging. He follows right next to me. We jog all the way down to Douglas and back up to 8

and Ocean. He follows easily with me. This makes me smile. I look at him and find him smiling as well. Hopefully my exercising calmed him down a little. I throw myself on the sand when we reach our starting point. I lay back and watch the descending sun steal the colors of the sky and clouds. The rising moon throws its silvery glow on everything it touches. With the sun the waves were a rich blue with white tips, now they’re a deep mysterious midnight blue with silver tips. I let the water attempt at reaching my sneakers. I breathe out happily and close my eyes. I feel Fadi lay down next to me and breathe out as well. I can feel his heat come off of him in the same rhythm as the waves of the ocean. I feel sweat trickle down my neck onto the sand. “Thank you” I hear him breathe out softly.

I bring myself down to the sand next to him and say, “Anytime.”

With Daniel I have learned to not even be curious about the other person. If that person wants you to know something they will tell you. There’s no need in insistent questioning.

“I was thinking,” he says, “that maybe we could go out dancing.”

I laugh, “This workout wasn’t enough for you?”

He flips onto his side facing me and starts to trace the inside of my arm. “Eh, I can keep going.”

“Ok.” I say holding what he is doing to memory.

Losing a husband helps you to never take even the smallest thing for granted.

“Good.”

“How about we eat first? I don’t think my banana survived the heat but I still have that water.”

“Alright. How about I cook for you and this time you meet my parents for real.”

“Ok. Am I allowed to change?”

“Nope. Never change a thing about yourself.” He says seriously staring into my eyes.

I never noticed before, but having him so close I can see he has tiny freckles in the irises of his eyes.

#ashestofire #amwriting #iamawriter #writing #shortstory #story #lovestory

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