#but I mean god forbid we have even an ounce of respect for the people who make the games we like right

[danganronpa-21]

Fellas is it lazy to reference yourself

[buck-yyyy]

okay, but why can’t people ever ship a queer ship in peace?

why do we have to write these pages and pages of detailed analysis and spend hours digging through every ounce of footage to pick out tiny details, only to still not be taken seriously because “there’s already a gay character in the show, it doesn’t need any more”, or “mikes not gay because he kissed a girl he met the week prior when he was 12”?

why do queer ships need all of this stuff to be “valid”, when straight ships are often just people mashing together a guy and a girl who happened to be in the general vicinity of each other?

why do we have to be so desperate for queer representation in television that we need to spend hours proving ourselves just so we don’t get laughed out of the room for daring to suggest that a character isn’t straight?

i mean, for fucks sake, we have a nearly 300 page slideshow of evidence for why byler should be canon. the milkvans have a canon relationship, sure, but it’s falling apart in front of all of us and yet it’s STILL seen as more realistic than two guys falling in love.

please don’t get me wrong, i love all the analysis. i love the theories, and the essays, and the slideshows, all of it. it’s the best part of fandoms, and ships, and it’s my favorite part of how i personally consume media. but it is still so beyond unfair that we need to put all this work in just for the chance to be taken seriously.

we get attacked for minding our own business solely because our ship is not straight. not because people don’t like them together, not because the dynamic is off, not because of any real reason. we get attacked because god forbid two boys in 1985 be gay. it’s thinly veiled homophobia.

queer ships deserve to be respected just the same as straight ships. i’m fucking tired of people acting like they don’t.

oh, and don’t even THINK about giving me any of that, “you can make a straight character gay, why can’t i make a queer character straight” bullshit. you can make a queer character straight when real life queer people around the world aren’t in physical, life threatening danger for being queer. last time i checked, straight people weren’t in dire need of representation. you can fuck right off with that, i don’t want to hear it.

[theangryjikooker]

get the basics out of the way

Who are you? A Jikooker who's angry. I come off abrasive and not everyone’s cup of tea. Maybe not anyone, I’m practically unpleasant. I’m not here to be liked, but if you want to be mildly entertained or looking to have your brain jiggled around by truth bombs about human behavior because nothing makes sense and you’re almost-angry and don’t want to rock the boat of your fellow brethren, I am but your mouthpiece. Hear me roar.

Why? Because a lot of Jikookers are getting annoying as fuck with their wild overanalytical tendencies and the shamelessness in presuming Jikook are ACTUALLY dating. It's not even a joke to them, it's like a religious belief, and it's fucking weird.

Do YOU think Jikook are dating? I think they’re close. I think their brand of closeness can sometimes be unusual or interesting from an observer’s standpoint, but I’m in no position to affirm or claim they’re dating. That is breaching asshole levels of arrogance.

Not all of us are obsessed and insane. Cool, then nothing I say should offend you. If you’re removed enough to separate reality from fiction, you would be virtually incapable of getting offended.

What is your goal? To vent and let my sarcastic rainbow stardust fly free. God forbid I share my opinions on Twitter and let the Jikooker hive mind ~*cancel*~ me because I don't agree with their bullshit all the time. Staying silent in the presence of zealots is intensely crippling, per Psychology 101.

You must be homophobic. If this is your knee-jerk response to critiques that don't align with your nonsense, you don’t deserve an ounce of respect. But if you persist, then it's clear you just want to fight. I aim to please.

Are you secretly a Taekooker? For the love of all things miserably holy, shut up. Just because I don't agree with every insane analysis that people shit out, it doesn't mean I'm a Taekook mole. Who even has that kind of energy and time?! I like them enough, but Jikook has the dynamic that warms the cockles of my dead heart. Ya happy?

(Some) Taekookers are just as toxic, why don’t you vent about them? Only if I have a reason to? I’m not as entrenched in their community as I am with Jikook, so I’m not going to be exposed as much to their content unless I unwillingly come across them. If I have to bitch about something a Taekooker said, I guarantee you that I didn’t seek them out on purpose, and I’m probably going to draw parallels to an equally absurd thing a Jikooker said. Both sides have toxic shippers from hell, but I’m not about to invite myself into the opposing wolves’ den for shits and giggles. I’m pissed off, not dumb.

Why do you have it out for (toxic) Jikookers? BECAUSE WE ARE BETTER THAN THIS. Or should be. Evidently, I have high expectations for humanity, but this has unfortunately been my undoing.

You’re very negative/your blog is negative. Toxic shippers are my villain origin story.

You’re a coward, let us know who you are. Wah wah wah, okay jikookluvr4ever (if this is an actual username, I’m sorry). As if the Internet isn’t a vortex of anonymity. Watch me roll my eyes straight out of my head if you missed the obvious sign of how much I do not care.

Are there any Jikookers you DO like? Yeah, but I won’t drag them into my bitch-a-thon without their consent. Even if I have nice things to say about them, my posts are inherently not going to be because I’m sick of being nice about Jikookers who are permanently armed with torches and pitchforks. Happy, positive blogs should stay happy.

What are your credentials? I have a friend of a friend who’s a native Korean and can testify on my behalf that everything I say has merit because they’re Korean and represent the entire Korean population with their interpretations of their language, cultural nuances, and politics, and they agree with me. It’s so convenient, I know, but trust me because they’re gay too. If that doesn’t satisfy you, I’ve also been married for over a decade and know SO MUCH about relationships because I’ve been married for over a decade and can vouch for every other couple’s relationship in the world because I’m MARRIED and have all the experience in the world, and wouldn’t you know it, my partner and I relate so much to Jikook in the early stages of our relationship, so I can tell you, FACTUALLY, that they are super duper mega real. For fuck’s sake.

[wetalkinboutbooks]

Empire of Sand by Tasha Suri

Summary: A nobleman’s daughter with magic in her blood. An empire built on the dreams of enslaved gods. Empire of Sand is Tasha Suri’s captivating, Mughal India-inspired debut fantasy.

The Amrithi are outcasts; nomads descended of desert spirits, they are coveted and persecuted throughout the Empire for the power in their blood. Mehr is the illegitimate daughter of an imperial governor and an exiled Amrithi mother she can barely remember, but whose face and magic she has inherited.

When Mehr’s power comes to the attention of the Emperor’s most feared mystics, she must use every ounce of will, subtlety, and power she possesses to resist their cruel agenda.

Should she fail, the gods themselves may awaken seeking vengeance…

Empire of Sand is a lush, dazzling fantasy novel perfect for readers of City of Brass and The Wrath & the Dawn. (Taken from Goodreads)

Our Ratings:  

 → Geena:  ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

 → Kae: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Overall: A fantastic fantasy with really cool worldbuilding that we adored, and it keeps you engaged with a protagonist who does what she wants without remorse 😤 (and we love her). Also, heads up this isn’t YA persay, we’d classify it as more NA (new adult).

The Good

→ Mehr

Kae: So let’s get started with one of my favourite strong, badass female characters, Mehr.  Mehr is the “bastard” daughter of a noble. Her parents were very much in love, but her mother was an Amrithi. The Amrithi people in this world, are very connected to the spirits and the Earth. But, as all ~connected~ people seem to be, they were hunted by the Ambhans because they were seen as the lowest race of people. They were seen as barbaric, heathens, and all those other mean things people say to seem inferior. As much as the Ambhan’s hated the Amrithi, they needed their blood to protect themselves from Daiva (spirits). Ambhan’s also think of themselves as the superior race so jot that down. Now let’s get back to Mehr. 

Mehr is the daughter of an Ambhan noble and an Amrithi tribeswoman. The Amrithi do not marry because it will mean they are giving themselves up and breaking a vow that it literally written on their skin. It would mean they are losing a part of themself. Because Mehr’s father keeps a big ol’ cup of ‘RESPECTING WOMEN JUICE’ with him, he was like “Yeah that’s totally fine. I still love you and our children will be protected so this is fine.” So Mehr is protected, as well as her little sister Arwa. The thing is though, Mehr looks very much like the Amrithi. She has her mother's dark skin and hair, and tall figure. Her little sister looks more Ambhan, so she has a much easier time blending in. When Mehr was very young, her mother abandoned them and returned to the desert. So Mehr’s father had to remarry. Mehr’s stepmother is not kind to her at all. She is mean and petty and even forbids Mehr to see her sister, Arwa whenever she feels Mehr is being ‘disobedient’. Mehr’s stepmother, Miryam, has also raised Arwa as her own because she cannot have children. So she feels some type of ownership over Arwa. 

Mehr is very aware of her Amrithi roots and continues to practice the Amrithi religion and dance her Rites whenever she gets the chance. On one particular spirit Daiva fueled stormy night, Mehr decides to dance her rites in the storm. This particular storm is called Dreamfire and it’s basically when the spirits come down to earth. While doing her Rites, she ends up lost and wanders into the city, unaccompanied (Which is a huge no-no) and finds herself at an Amrithi woman's house (whom? Has taught her the rites and her heritage, in hiding.) This grabs the attention of the Mystics and they are at her house within a few weeks. The Mystics are very powerful people who you absolutely cannot refuse or they’ll pretty much kill your whole family. So she is offered a marriage proposal and has to take it to save herself and her family. This is when she is introduced to her soon to be husband, Amun.

Geena: I loved Mehr, and Tasha Suri does a good job of using Mehr’s character with her lineage as a way to comment on colourism and caste (since the book is set in a place that is essentially the Indian subcontinent). But yeh, Kae hit all the plot points, Mehr’s constantly told to hide her amrithi self but she dgaf and does what SHE wants… though this does lead to the Mystics showing up like Kae said. I think part of the history of the Ambhan empire is that they essentially “colonized” the amrithi, and the mystics had a huge part of that since they (we learn later) use the Amrithi to harness the daiva and their powers and guide the success of the ambhan empire. SO, Mehr is forced to accept this arranged marriage, even though her father HATES that the mystics are taking away Mehr’s ability to make her own choice. Ambhans generally consider women property but when it comes to choosing marriage partners, women are given free reign to make a choice, so her dad is furious when the mystics insinuate that Mehr HAS to accept. 

Mehr could’ve said no, but she thinks about it and realizes that if she doesn’t go along with the mystics they’d ruin her dad and this would ruin her younger sister’s life too. Our girl says ‘family over everything’ and jumps into the marriage, another amrithi boy (both characters are like 19 I think??). But right after the boy, Amun, is furious and Mehr can’t figure out why until he points out that now they’re bound for life!!! Mehr can’t STAND his ass, she’s like “okay but I didn’t want this either bitch” anyways this is a very slowburn type of story. Mehr quickly learns what it is the mystics do and she’s basically like “o shit.” SO LIKE, we learn that Amun has been under the mystics since he was a kid, and he essentially had accepted his fate that ‘I will live and die working for them’ but then Mehr shows up and learns everything, and our girl is quick-witted and isn’t about to take shit lying down. I LOVE how she essentially is a beacon of hope, even when her mother abandoned them and she was stuck with a shitty stepmom it didn’t stop her from embracing her roots and living life how she wanted. AND!!! Despite her stepmom’s threats she didn’t say away from Arwa and taught Arwa almost everything she knew. Mehr had rules laid out for her but she was like “lmao fuck that” and did what she felt like doing.  She’s also really sweet, she learns all about Amun and manages to befriend other people under the mystics, which backfires but you kno. You win some, you lose some. Mehr is truly that bitch and gave Amun hope, and together they fought for their freedom. 

ALSO, I should add that I like how Mehr doesn’t make dumbfuck decisions like everything that goes wrong isn’t necessarily her fault (other than her few slip-ups rip) but like she isn’t a dumbass so I found solace in that. 

→ Amun

Kae: Amuuuun. Amuun. Amun. I liked him a lot. He’s just this very quiet, handsome young man who is TRYING HIS BEST. He like, initially stays away from Mehr because he is resisting an order from the Maha. Basically, if the Maha tells Amun to do something, he HAS to do it, or he starts to suffer. It’s because when Amun was first forced to join the Maha and his religious cult, Amun had to take a vow (which is very literal and serious for Amrithi and is literally carved into their skin) to always obey the Maha. Amun has his own way or obeying the Maha. He rebels in the smallest way he can and I don’t think he even realized how much he was rebelling. It was just natural to him. He does what the Maha asks of him but in his own way. But yes, Amun was very standoffish towards Mehr. He was kind of afraid to get close to her because neither of them wanted to get married, but for Amun, it was a vow he was instructed to do. For Mehr, it was saving herself and her family. So he teaches her the new Rites she has to learn to perform in Dreamfire storms, etc. But eventually, they start to talk and actually enjoy each others company. Amun is comanded to sleep with Mehr, but since that’s isn’t exactly a ~specfic~ order, he has been sleeping with her… But like, literally just sleeping beside her in the same bed. That’s it. But TECHNICALLY, he is doing as he was commanded. See? Our boy finds loopholes because HE SMART. AND HE DRINKS ‘RESPECTING WOMEN JUICE’. We stan a legend. SO YEAH THE MAHA FINDS OUT ABOUT THIS. MAHA IS PIIIIIISSED. So he literally says to Amun, “fuck your wife.” and him and Mehr are close and this point and Amun is literally killing himself by not doing this direct command because he doesn’t want to hurt Mehr. He doesn’t want to force her to have sex with him. He is literally losing weight, sweating, getting sick. All of it. And Mehr is like “Listen… I love you. I really do and I don’t want you to die. So like, just do it. It’s okay, I’m giving you permission.” AMUN OUR SWEET BOY IS STILL SO HESITANT BECAUSE HE DOESN’T WANT TO DEFILE HER. BUT HE IS DYING SO LIKE, HE HAS TO HAVE SEX WITH HER. IT’S EITHER FUCK OR DIE. THE WORLD FUCKS U EITHER WAY SO MIGHT AS WELL. 

Geena: WHEN….. WHEN THE MAHA TOLD HIS OLD GENERAL DUDE “YOU WATCH AND MAKE SURE THEY DO” I WAS SITTING HERE LIKE…. BRO…. BRO WHAT……… AND THE GENERAL WAS UNCOMFORTABLE AND EVERYONE WAS UNCOMFORTABLE….. AND like everyone is eating the Maha’s ass at this point and it takes Mehr forever to convince the general guy to be like “couldn’t you just wait at the end of the staircase and listen instead” god that was so awkward.

Kae: I’M GLAD YOU MENTIONED THAT PART. Yes, it was extremely uncomfortable for everyone in this situation. Including the readers asdfghjkl;. But like, The general agrees and waits outside. Mehr and Amun are making the best of their situation and well… They make LOOOOVE. And it’s actually really sweet and not a bad scene. He was gentle with her and they made their own vows to each other to make such a harsh, forced moment, a moment of their own. Amun is just a sweet, quiet boy who is very much in love with his wife and he just gets caught up in shit. But we love him. 

Geena: I ONLY WANNA ADD ONE THING, which is that the condition the Maha had laid out was the moment that Amun slept with Mehr, Mehr would be forced to follow every single order from the Maha too. So all of Mehr’s “Friends” feel bad for her because she’s being forced to sleep with Amun, who they think is this hulking man who’s rude to everyone (he has reason to be bc they all treat him like a monster). And Mehr can’t handle her man being slandered and she’s like “EXCUSE YOU, BUT THAT MAN IS SOFT™ AND HASN’T TOUCHED ME” and one of her “friends” is like.. “O worm?” and basically snitches to the Maha. Also, I love how Amun is written, he doesn’t have a perspective of his own but we still get to see what drives him and why he is the way he is, like his past and what his dreams had been. Amun is like a dark skinned Thor but like more depressed sdkfjndsf 

WAIT UNREALated to Amun  kinda, but when the whole book went without cussing and near the end the Maha was like “AMUN I WANT YOU TO FUCK MEHR” I LOST IT….. Tasha’s editor was like “You may say fuck…. But only ONCE” like that donkey kong meme.  

AND ANOTHER THING, the ending with Mehr and Amun had me like clutching my chest. They manage to defeat the Maha and essentially free any future Amrithi from facing the same fate as them, but they realize that the dreamfire dance is important to keep the gods and daeva appeased. Mehr steps up saying that she’ll stay in like the Maha’s place and perform the dance and teach any Amrithi willing to listen, and Amun says he’ll stay with her too. BUT!! He had also said that he wants to do nothing more than leave that place and travel far away from the Maha’s influence, and Mehr essentially tells him “Amun, you gotta go live your life, I refuse to tie you down with me.” and up until the last page the reader is like…. O shit…. He’s going….. AND that’s so sweet of Mehr to say because she knows that Amun only has bad memories of the place and it’s overall traumatic for him so even though she loves him she doesn’t want to tie him down. BUT!!!! AMUN STAYS ALL BC HE’S LIKE MEHR IS HIS LIFE!! And together they stay and train Amrithi, and the place that had once been used to imprison and enslave Amrithi is made into a safe haven for them. 

Kae:  boom yes ur were right. I got caught up because it was so cute. But like, he goes “I don’t want to travel. I want to be with u” and she’s like “NOOO LIVE UR LIFE DON’T STAY CAUSE I WANT U TO” and he’s like “but i want to court u like we talked about” and she's like “BOY WE MARRIED” and he’s like “Yeah, but like, I want to court you every day. Like if we were normal and didn’t get forced into this. Anyway, I love you a lot, but we should do this right” and she gets all flustered and shes like “WHEW. IM GETTIN’ HOT. ENOUGH COURTING FOR TODAY.” 

The Bad:

→ The Mothers

Geena: Kae mentioned earlier than Mehr has had two moms, her real one and then the stepmom that she was forced to deal with after her mom left (see: abandoned) her. As much as her stepmom was an asshole to her, she did her absolute best to be a good mother to Mehr’s younger sister so like… I guess she deserves SOME rights. BUT…. THEIR BIRTH MOM? AN ABSOLUTE TOOL. We end up meeting Mehr’s mom after Mehr runs away from the Maha, turns out she’s been acting as chief for a tribe this whole time??? And wasn’t missing or dead…. Just out here…. Travelling with her tribe…. Not giving a shit about her daughters… And when her mom learns that Mehr is under the Maha’s control her mom is unsupportive in my opinion, and I was ready to fight her. Mehr asks for her help but her mom is like :///// sorry my tribe comes first :/// and anyways I was v unimpressed and her mom’s excuse was like “oh your dad gave u a life better than I ever could” like that doesn’t mean shit when Mehr didn’t have anyone to lean on in her life (like her stepmom could give two shits about Mehr…. Imagine getting ur period for the first time and your stepmom is just like ‘yea idc’ so u gotta sit there with ur cramps all sad with no one to hug you, bc all the servants think you’re weird).  Tasha Suri does a great job at writing varying levels of shitty parenting so there’s that lmao  

→ Kalini 

Kae: So now we have, Kalini, AKA BOOOOTLICKERRRRRR. Kalini and her sister whose name escapes me at the moment, were ~rescued~ by the Maha when they were kids or whatever. So she is his self proclaimed right-hand woman. 

Geena: She highkey wanted to fuck the Maha you can’t change my mind. She saw his wrinkly ass and was like “I wanna hit that”

Kae: LMAOOO YOU’RE RIGHT AND YOU SHOULD SAY IT. And like, she also highkey hates Mehr. She thinks that if her sister, Hema, continues to talk to Mehr, she will land herself in trouble and well, Kalini wasn’t wrong. Hema’s throat is slit and she bleeds out in front of her sister for fraternizing with Mehr. Kalini was mean to Mehr from the start, but the murder of her sister just darkens Kalini even more. She loathes Mehr. BUT, Kalini isn’t a total dumbass. She DOES recognize that the Maha is the one who commanded her death, so she holds that memory tight and uses it to fuel her. She later kills the Maha where he stands, letting him know that he is not a God, and is mortal like everyone else. She slits his throat. Boom, he dead. 

Geena: Kalini was eating the Maha’s ass but she realized he wasn’t shit at the same time. So she can have rights bc of that I suppose. 

The Ugly: 

→ Maha

Geena: now to talk about, as Kae beautifully phrased it the  “HOE ASS BITCH ASS FUCK ASS MAHA” He is truly… the nASTIEST man alive, thinks of himself as a God even though he’s ugly and probably has the body of a pufferfish (unappealing). So, he has the ability to do ~vibe checks~ and find amrithi, who he forces to dance every few months during a huge dreamfire storm so he can harness the magic and use it to fuel the Ambhan empire. He’s had Amun under his thumb since the boy was a child, and now he wants to use Mehr too…. OKAY WAIT KAE DIDN’T HE WANT THEM TO “BREED”  

Kae: YEAH. BUT AMUN SAID THEY COULDN’T HAVE KIDS BECAUSE THE DREAM FIRE RITE FUCKS THEM UP. BUT HE ONLY CAME TO THAT CONCLUSION BECAUSE MAHA WAS FUCKIN’ THE LADY THAT WOULD DANCE THE RITE WITH AMUN BUT SHE CULDN’T GET PREGGGERS. SO I JUST THINK THE MAHA WAS FUCKED UP AND NOT THEM. We will see in book 2 tho…. 

Geena: YEA!!! SO THAT WAS JUST ONE OTHER FUCKED UP THING THE MAHA ORCHESTRATED (also lmao he was shooting dust ehehhe). Along with slitting Hema’s throat and uh telling Amun to force himself on Mehr. A part of me was thinking while reading that if Amun and Mehr weren’t married and had their vows…. What he would’ve done… He was a gross old man and eugh makes my skin crawl thinking about him. Like he enslaved Amrithi and worked them until the ritual eventually killed them and ugh fuck that man he got the death he deserved… Though I kinda wish Amun had been the one to stab him dead but :/ 

Kae: Geena broke it down pretty well. We HATE THE MAHA AND HE’S A FUGLY, SKANK BITCH. He really is the worst though. He had been harnessing the power of the Amrithi people for generations, making him pretty much immortal (right or am I wrong?) until Mehr and Amun fought back and she dipped out on him in the middle of a huge dreamfire storm. Since they didn’t complete the rite, the Maha didn’t get that nice hit of Amritihi power, and he quickly began to age and get sick. This is when Kalini saw her opportunity to strike and murked his ass. The Maha was demanding, evil, VILE, and an abusive manipulator. I don’t like him. BUT THAT’S GOOD THAT WE DON’T LIKE HIM because that means he was well written. Tasha Suri does a fantastic job writing all of these characters.

Conclusion

Kae: Also, dude. Tasha wrote Mehr so well. It's why she’s one of my favourites. Like, Mehr was brave, but she was scared as shit in the beginning. She did everything she was told and we see her progress into this strong wonderful young lady and it's such a beautiful development? And same with Amun? He’s like, quiet and weird but we find out it was because he wanted to protect Mehr from the start? POETIC CINEMA. 

Geena: FUCK DUDE you’re so right, it reminds me of Sabaa’s writing a lot too. The way we see her characters flourish in tandem with each other like OOOF, I wanna write like that. Also, the romance isn’t like an insta-love type of deal, Tasha makes it very clear that it develops over a long period of time, and uughhhh everything is so natural. Speaking of, Tasha Suri’s coming out with another book set in the same universe, but this time it’ll be focused on Arwa, Mehr’s sister. We’re super excited because it happens years after this book, and Kae mentioned that Tasha has hinted at a family reunion so I CAN’T WAIT! 

[dingletragedy]

Robron + Love Island 👀

{here is a snippet of the love island au i may attempt to write if you don’t find this too teribble}

Let it be known that Aaron Dingle hates reality television shows, the lot of them are nothing but a tasteless source of public humiliation. That being said, he’d somehow found himself watching Love Island on more than one occasion last summer; evenings spent in beer gardens soaking up the last rays of the falling sun before rushing home to catch his hourly fix.

But that didn’t for one second mean he anticipated competing in the next series, Adam couldn’t seem to understand that though, no matter how many times he firmly told him no.

The matter of fact is, he’s here. He’s standing in a bloody villa on the Spanish islands of Majorca, surrounded by too-big-for-their-boots strangers, a not-so-special Caroline Flack and a host of intrusive cameramen. He’s never felt more out of place in all his life, he hates Adam.

(But h’es looking at it from one perspective; he’s getting a free holiday).

Aaron has no real game plan here, he’ll just find someone nice and compatible to couple up with while he wishes the weeks away. It’s just as well he ended up with Alex then isn’t it really.

Everyone knows how this goes, there’s six people lined up in front of him, all of different sexualities but each as dull looking as the next. There are three girls and three boys, which narrowed his choice down considerably. He hates this -  having to lord himself about in front of strangers, like he’s some model, in the hope that one of the boys finds him attractive enough to step forward. Luckily for Aaron, he looks like he was carved by angels, and all three near enough leap forward. He’s gone for the tall, lanky looking one, Alex, on the foundation that he looks normal. The only one of the three who didn’t have muscles bursting at the seams or a silly little bun on the top of his head. Nice. Normal. Boring.

Once the original coupling is over they’re let loose in the villa. 14 young, single, strangers left to their own devices, what trouble could they possibly cause? Apparently not much at all. There’s a lot of getting to know each other, mostly stupid questions Aarons not interested in knowing the answers to. But it’s solidified his beliefs on which contestants love themselves more than they’ll ever love anyone they meet here, and who to avoid all conversation with. After half an hour of mind-numbing conversation, Aaron takes himself off for a swim.

Aaron spends some time getting to know Alex. He remembers all of three things from their hour-long chat: He’s a doctor, which he can’t fault. He’s got a close-knit family and a group of friends he’s had forever. And he likes Aaron’s ears. His fucking ears. Aaron can’t pick fault with him really, he’s admirable, half decent looking and doesn’t ask too many questions.

Which is why he decides there and then that he’ll settle with Alex. He’s not interested in making conversation with anyone else, this way he can keep himself to himself, for the most part, only giving Alex attention when absolutely necessary.

If nothing else, Aaron’s made a friend – Millie. She’s from his ends and makes him a brew every morning that tastes like home. She reminds him of his Mum, although he’d never tell her that, not unless he wanted a slap and a dunk in the pool, she’s warm but firm, tells it how it is but is respectful of others, and Aaron admires her for that.

The first few days fly by - each day is much the same. They get rudely awoken by the blinding sun at the crack of dawn, Aaron goes off for a swim to avoid any blundering pillow-talk with Alex, he spends 40 minutes entertaining Alex, and the rest of the day soaking up the Spanish sun. What’s not to love?

But of course, that’s not the entertainment the nation is craving is it? Which is why they find themselves competing in a variety of mindless challenges every day. Most are a bit of fun, Aarons always been good at physical activity, so he comes out on top often, the competitive side of him basking in his glory. But when it comes to a ‘how well do you know your partner’ challenge, well he’s in the dog house isn’t he?

I mean how was he supposed to know how many men Alex has slept with? His biggest turn on? And god forbid his favourite position. He’s only had a handful of conversations with him, and funnily enough, sex positions hadn’t come up yet. If he’s lucky, they never will.

They’ve been back in the garden area for all of 3 minutes before Alex interrupts his and Millis’s conversation. He shouldn’t be so aggravated considering, but they were having a heated debate about their favourite cars, and Aaron’s never been one to walk away from an argument of such importance.

“Aaron, can we have a word please?” Alex asks with a slight nod of his head.

“Uh – yeah sure.” Aaron says, making no attempt to move from Millie’s side.

“In private.” Alex orders, with the first ounce of annoyance Aarons heard from him.

As it happens, Alex was slightly annoyed at Aaron, he reckons Aaron isn’t paying him much attention, and well.. he’s not wrong, is he? He thinks he’s done a good job of convincing him otherwise, spouted some bullshit about needing time to settle in and coming out of his shell. He even threw in quick kiss for good measure – it was nothing more than a brief touch of lips, and Aaron doesn’t know what he was expecting to feel from it, but it wasn’t nothing at fucking all.

It’s the third night when things start to get exciting. They’ve been thrown a surprise party; Aaron knows how these things work, they don’t throw parties for nothing. The patio is decked out like one those terrible house parties he snuck into as a teen, the scent of musky aftershave and sweet perfume is overwhelming, and they’ve been given extra booze to loosen themselves in the hope it’ll cause worthwhile drama for the nation.

Drama in the shape of two new arrivals.

[kittensjonsa]

For @jonsa-week 's Day 1:

Greed ~ The Father (Justice) ~ Fave book quote (Jon, A Storm of Swords - pg 617)

Summary: Revenge was all he wanted and it didn’t matter how he got it. But Jon knew he had bitten off more than he can chew the moment he laid his eyes on Sansa Stark - daughter of the well loved and respected man in all of Westeros and recent widower turned priest, Ned Stark. 

Rated G, 2k+ words, may turn smutty. Angsty, a snippet of Jonsa, dark Jon and to be continued (maybe I don’t know yet..)

In The Name of The Father

Justice. It was all he wanted. The plans he had didn't have any room for any incidences. Nothing at all. Just get in, get it done and get out. He was prepared, or at least he thought so.

“Something troubling you, son?”

Jon jumped slightly at the call. Turning around slowly as calm and confident footsteps approached him, Jon managed a small smile of greeting. A small creak told him the priest had just taken a seat in the pew just behind his.

“Well, isn't everyone who comes here?”

A small grin and a chuckle escaped the sombre priest. “True. Aren't we all? Well if there's anything you need, confess or anything, I'll be right here.”

Confess. A heavy word worth its weight in guilt and remorse. He had a confession, truth be told but tonight was not the night. Oh the things he could tell, but he shouldn't. Not to Father Ned Stark.

“I'm sorry, Father.. but I'm afraid.. I'm not Catholic. I just came here to take a breather. It's very.. peaceful here.”

It wasn't prayer nor intercession he was after. Nor a minute of peaceful solitude. He had enough of those growing up alone.

Forgiveness. That was on his mind, the moment he stepped into the church. He feared he would vanish and spontaneously combust, on such sacred premises, for the vile things he had done but he guessed going to hell didn't work that way. Jon had a feeling he had one foot in it already.

“How could you? You animal!” Sansa's cries were acid, burning right through him.

“I fell in love with you! To think I gave you all of me, my heart was yours! A-and you.. you just stomped on it? How dare you even come here!”

“Sansa, you're not listening to me.. please just listen.”

Sansa shook her head and rubbed away at the tears that were flowing freely. Oh, how it hurts. She gave herself to him. All of her; mind, body and soul. She would do anything for him. Anything to make him happy. He was her best friend, her soul mate. But how could her feelings be so wrong?

Sansa screamed in anger as Jon stepped closer. She was done. The lies, oh God, the lies!

“No! Don't touch me! We are done! Don't ever come near me ever again! You.. are dead to me.”

No words had ever punched him in the gut like Sansa’s..Jon could only watch as Sansa ran away from him, driving off and leaving him alone by the river. The night was unbearably cold all of a sudden. Their favourite spot and where they kissed for the first time. He shouldn't care nor remember these things, but he did. Good lord, he did.

The stab that pierced through his heart was one he didn't expect. Perhaps he did love her too. .

But.. Mother. And Arthur.

He was greedy. Greedy for things to be set right. Greedy for vengeance. For vindication. But he had no right to break her heart. And for what it's worth, his too.

His happiness meant nothing if he didn't have any peace. One that would come in the aftermath of finally knowing who had taken everything away from him and getting payback. It was all that mattered. Wasn't it?

Maybe prayer was what he needed, subconsciously as what good left in him was desperately trying to claw its way out. But he didn't believe in God. What God would allow such things; what happened to his mother and Arthur, and more importantly to him, making him this way causing hurt and grief to someone he actually loved?

Pray then. Pray to your new Gods, and I'll pray to my old ones.

And they are Revenge, Betrayal and Blackmail.

Jon shut his eyes, remorseful for thinking such thoughts in such a place. But how hypocritical, it seemed to him, considering what he had done. And he had done enough. It stung him still, remembering how her warm tears dampened the palm of his hands. How her heartbreaking pleas shook him to his very core. Yes, he had done enough.

Jon could hear the priest's smile. A warm, genuine and kind smile. “Yes, I suppose it is. Well, not to worry we welcome everyone here.”

Sinners are we and sinners we shall die. None redeemed. At least not me, Jon thought.

“Thank you. It means a lot.”

His eyes shifted to the floor and held his head low before standing up to leave Jon alone. He had been a priest long enough to know when he was not needed. And it seemed to him this dishevelled young man, with dark eyes and unruly curls probably cherished his moment of solitude before he walked in.

“Nice to meet you then. I shall leave you in your peace. I'm Father Ned and I hope if you feel like you ever need a place to breathe, you'll come here.”

“Thank you Father Ned. I'll take you up on that offer.”

And perhaps.. more.

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

“What? What do you mean you can't tell me? What is it?”

Sam clicked the mouse and whirled his chair around to face Jon. He hoped he had better news to tell him.

“You've got to promise me you're not going anything stupid. You can't. Promise me, Jon.”

“All right. I promise. So go on then... Oh for fuck's sake, Sam! Out with it!”

Sam turned and tapped on the computer screen.

“That man you've been looking for all this while? The one you think had something to do with your mother's death? That's him right there. The private investigator sent me this.”

Jon grunted and glared at Sam before setting his gaze on the screen.

“So that's him. I've got to look for him then.”

“And do what Jon? Ask him questions, interrogate him? I know what's going through your mind and I think it's best if you don't.. do anything at all.”

Jon looked at the name again. And the stealth pictures that came with it. He needed to decide now. Closure, that's it. Though it puzzled him why Sam was so concerned. He knew how much he needed this. Sam, of all people.

“And why shouldn't I?”

“You're mad, angry, pissed off. You've been like this ever since you started this whole investigation thing. Dude, listen to me, just don't do it.”

“And isn't that the exact reason why I should? It's called closure, Sam. Besides, who the hell is h-”

“He's mother fucking Ned Stark, that's why!” Sam objected.

Ned Stark. I'll remember that name for as long as I live.

“So, who's he?” Jon asked, though he had heard of him before.

“You're kidding right? A Westerosi legend. The lawyer who brought the Boltons to their knees and best friend of the late President Robert Baratheon. How do you not know all this?”

Jon stared at the pictures once more and shrugged. Probably a good thing he didn't. Makes it all the more easier. He was too busy trying to survive the past twenty years or so, doing his best on the cold hard streets than to mind about politics or gossip.

“But.. it looks like he isn't one anymore. Or retired. I mean, look the photos. He's a priest, Sam.”

“Dude give that guy a break. He just lost his wife and his two sons. He's found God and maybe that's how it's supposed to be. I mean, come the fuck on, Snow!”

And I lost my mother.

Jon didn't like the tone in Sam's plea. Why should one man's redemption be more important than his poor mother's? A life snatched away from him much too soon. The years spent in foster homes, in the orphanage and trying to seek some form of solace and God forbid it, even love - was a painful sorrow no one would ever understand.

“Stop fucking telling me about this man! His life is no more important than what my mother could have had! You don't fucking tell me how that's like, Tarly. No one can and best you don't say anything about this anymore.”

“No, Jon I didn't mean that!  You know that. Come on, Jon! Jon!” Sam's words fell on deaf ears as Jon grabbed his coat and left. Nobody tells me what the fuck to do. Not Sam, not even God. Whoever the fuck they are, Jon screamed in his head.

Days went by without as much as a call from Sam, Jon knew he was smart enough to leave him be but still he wished they could talk. A text or two dinged but Jon chose to ignore them. He had more important things on his mind. Rubbing his tired eyes, Jon decided to call it a night from staring at the computer.

The research and probing had gotten a little too mundane, the more he learned about Ned Stark, the more he uncovered - which was really how Ned Stark was practically Captain Westeros, a well loved man, an upright citizen with morals of steel. There was not an ounce of dirt on him except one tabloid article years ago that depicted him leaving the scene of an infamous night club with the late former President Baratheon. But that was only because the former late President was a bad boy with bad habits, it wasn't really about Ned Stark per se.

How are you connected to my mother's death? Jon wondered. Something's gotta give, no one can be that good.

Jon needed to do something different, he needed more. He had set out to find the truth and right now, he'd do just about anything for it. Anything.

The Stark family radiated pure happiness and perfection, from the web portrait alone, one that rudely yelled out at him.

Such a pretty family.

It made him sick to his stomach, to think that that could have been a portrait of him and his mother and Arthur Dayne. His own family where he was loved and protected. Arthur wasn't family but he was the closest father figure he had in someone and the only confidante his mother trusted. Arthur probably loved his mother too, Jon was certain. They were happy and Jon's life was perfect. Just like the picture of the Starks.

Till a note found in his mother's cold dead hands with a scribbled 'Eddard Stark' destroyed everything he held dear.

And there he was, Father Ned Stark.

Ned Stark, a name that made a six year old Jon an orphan that day and since then he made a vow. Devoting the rest of his life to avenge his beloved mother. Even if it meant hurting someone along the way. He was more than willing and growing up fending for himself went on to equip him with the skills he needed. Jon had years in preparation for this.

They've got to pay, Mama. Someone has to.

“Sansa! Sans! There's someone here to see you,” Jeyne called out from the bottom of the stairs.

Sansa almost jumped and dropped the pencil in her hand. Good thing she wasn't writing anything important or else she'd have to rewrite the notes.

That's weird. Who could it be? Sansa checked her watch again and grunted at the time. It was going to be the third time she was late this week.

“She'll be right down. What was your name again? Jay, was it?”

Jon nodded with a smile. “Yes, it is. I'm actually here for the caretaker position? I believe it was posted in the jobs section in the papers.”

Jeyne eyed him warily. She didn't recall putting an advertisement out for anything lately. If Sansa did, she'd definitely inform her. Yet not even a mention of it. Jeyne didn't quite like the idea of strangers coming up to the Stark's private residence looking for jobs. Regardless of how dark and handsome they turn out to be. But then again, perhaps she might be taking her job as Sansa's personal assistant a little too seriously to care this much.

I'm sure it's nothing, just a guy looking for a job.

“I see. Sansa did mention once that they needed a caretaker here to help with house and the dogs. Though that might have been a few weeks ago and the applications are closed. But maybe she hadn't found one yet. So.. you're okay with dogs though right?”

Jon shrugged. “Dogs? Sure, I love dogs. I have one of my own. Ghost, his name is. Big large white dog. He's a good boy.”

Jeyne nodded approvingly. “Well, all right then. I have to go and leave you in Sansa's good hands. I was just here to collect some paperwork. Nice to meet you, Jay. Oh, and good luck!”

Jon waved a polite goodbye as he closed the door and resumed waiting by the stairs. Beads of sweat were pooling on his forehead. Jon inhaled deeply. So close. He was so close and everything was going according to plan. Jon knew he was at the right place and at the right time and he was mightily pleased with himself.

That is, until - he saw her. Sansa Stark.

“Jay? Hi, sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Sansa. Nice to meet you.”

Nice indeed.

Fuck.

[awkwardmuslim]

help! I come from a Jewish family and I’ve been taught that Islam is a terrible religion, that it promotes sexism, and even rape. I however have always ignored this but I see it everywhere in the media but then I see people saying it does support feminism, that women get to choose to wear the Hijab, that rape is wrong, etc I’m sorry if I sound confused or anything, I just need help understanding Islam, and maybe a few pieces of proof showing it’s a religion just as good as Judaism . Thank you!

Hi,You don’t sound confused at all and its really important to ask questions, and look directly at the source than to absorb all the information from the media.So, what I’m going to do is provide you with some scriptures to help you understand Islam more, and answer your question.

Before I show you some of the texts, here is a background of what they are, if you weren’t aware of them. (I apologise in advance for the information overload).

I will quote from two sources: The Quran (Which is the book that was reveal to Muhammad Peace be Upon Him. The Quran is split into chapters, which are known as Surahs) and the Sunnah (Which is a compilation of teachings, saying and deeds of the Prophet Muhammad Peace be Upon Him). 

 The Sunnah was compiled into written format after His death, by which they are known as Hadiths. The two most famous complilations were from Imam Bukhari and Imam Muslim. These compilations are respectably known as Sahih Bukhari, and Sahih Mulim (Sahih meaning authentic). There are other compilations such as; Ibn Majah, Sunan Abu Dawud, Tirmidhi, Al-Nasai, .. all named after the scholars that compiled them, but they contain other grades of hadiths e.g Hasan, meaning reliable.  To understand the difference between the grades requires some studying, because they are based on a chain of narrations and there is a whole science behind it... But, for ease of understanding, I will try and stick to all the Sahih Hadiths in this response. When you see a hadith I have quoted that says “Narrated by …” - That narration is usually from someone who a close companion of the Prophet Muhammad Peace Be Upon Him. Also if you see “ﷺ” - it is just an honorific in arabic which we as muslims attribute to the Prophet Muhammad and it means Peace be Upon Him. We also say Peace Be Upon Him after all of the Prophets in Islam. If you see “رضي الله عنه” or “رضي الله عنها” which are honourifics we use for companions of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, which mean “May God be pleased with Him” or “May God be pleased with her”. Now... Like Judaism, Islam also teaches the 10 commandments, it is also a condition of being muslim, to believe in the the books revealed by God: The Torah revealed to Moses, The Zabur (interpreted as the Book of Psalms) which was revealed to King David, Injil (The Original Gospels) which was revealed to Jesus, and also the Scrolls which were revealed to Abraham, and are now considered to be lost. (May Peace be Upon Them).

We hold all Prophets of God in high regard, in fact Moses (Peace be Upon Him) and Jesus (Peace be Upon Him) are mentioned in the Quran more times than Muhammad Peace be Upon Him.

OK.. are you ready?

Upholding Justice

I’m going to start with this, because in a sense, this bit may answer the majority of your questions.

In the Quran, God commands us to promote justice. So much so, that we should speak up for it even if it is against ourselves.



“You who believe, be steadfast in your devotion to God and bear witness impartially: do not let hatred of others lead you away from justice, but adhere to justice, for that is closer to awareness of God. Be mindful of God: God is well aware of all that you do.”
~ Surah Al-Ma’idah, Verse 8



“You who believe, uphold justice and bear witness to God, even if it is against yourselves, your parents, or your close relatives. Whether the person is rich or poor, God can best take care of both. Refrain from following your own desire, so that you can act justly- if you distort or neglect justice, God is fully aware of what you do.”~ Surah An-Nisa, Verse 135

As you can see, these two verses alone command us to treat people fairly regardless of who they are; even if they are our enemies, we should treat them fairly so they receive justice, and if we do not, we will be held accountable to God. It covers being just in all aspects of life, and not when someone commits wrong against you.

As for choosing to wear hijab…

Wearing the hijab is obligatory in Islam, but the Quran teaches us not to force people into doing something for the sake of religion. This is not just in wearing the hijab but also other aspects of Islam.

“There is no compulsion in religion”~ Surah Al-Baqarah, Verse 256

Instead, we are taught to advise by being polite and using good manners:

“Call people to the way of your Lord with wisdom and good teaching. Argue with them in the most courteous way, for your Lord knows best who has strayed from His way and who is rightly guided.”~ Surah An-Nahl, Verse 125

“By an act of mercy from God, you were gentle in your dealings with them- had you been harsh, or hard-hearted, they would have dispersed and left you - so pardon them and ask forgiveness for them.”~ Surah Ali ‘Imran, Verse 159

Narrated Jabir bin ‘Abdullah رضي الله عنه‎: The Prophet ﷺ said,“Every act of kindness is a Charity.”[Sahih Al-Bukhari: Book 78, Hadith 52]

Narrated Anas bin Malik رضي الله عنه‎: The Prophet ﷺ said,"Make things easy for the people, and do not make it difficult for them, and make them calm (with glad tidings) and do not repulse (them).[Sahih Al-Bukhari: Book 78, Hadith 152]

Is rape wrong?

Rape is a crime that is forbidden in all major religions, and in the minds of anyone who possesses an ounce of sanity.

Islam has a clear stance that states this repugnant action is forbidden and imposes a strict penalty on those that commit rape. The laws of Islam protect a womans honour and chastity and the crime of rape carries a severe punishment. In certain cases it carries the death penalty, should there be no doubt whatsoever that the rapist is guilty.

In Islam, capital punishment for certain crimes can only be undertaken if the evidence is absolutely 100% that the suspect is guilty. This is comparable to certain laws in the US, where a person can be found guilty and face the death penalty even if there is reasonable doubt. 



Does Islam support feminism?Islam identifies men and women both play different roles in society. That doesn’t mean men have more rights than women, it means we share responsibilities between each other. If we take the example of a mother giving birth to a child. No matter how much time a father spends with his child, the bond between the child and the mother will always be stronger. Does that make the father or mother any lesser? No.

Abu Hurairah رضي الله عنه reported that a person said: “Prophet ﷺ, who amongst the people is most deserving of my good treatment?” He ﷺ said: “Your mother, your mother, your mother, then your father, then your nearest relatives according to the order (of nearness)”[Sahih Muslim: Book 45, Hadith 2]

Notice how the mother was mentioned 3 times before the father, this shows the high regard in which a mother is shown.

Islam empowers women, it teaches that what they own belongs to them, and after marriage. The husband cannot take from her earnings to support the household. He must provide for them. That does not mean that the women is lesser because she can not provide for herself, it gives the duty to the man to do so, but at the same time it doesn’t forbid the woman from doing so. It is important to understand this because many that interpret the western meaning of feminism and look into islam, tend to misinterpret this.

“You who believe, it is not lawful for you to inherit women against their will, nor should you treat your wives harshly, hoping to take back some of the bride-gift you gave them, unless they are guilty of something clearly outrageous. Live with them in accordance with what is fair and kind: if you dislike them, it may well be that you dislike something in which God has put much good.”~ Suran An-Nisa, Verse 19

Islam honours women greatly and commands men to treat women with kindness. Even Gold and Silk is forbidden for men to wear, whereas it is permissible for Women!

I hope that is enough to answer your questions.Its great that you’re taking the initiate to ask questions, so if you have any more please do not hesitate to ask. If I have missed anything out, please forgive me.Thank you.~AM


[its8simplejulesblog]

Ever Since I Can Remember

I have been surrounded by ridiculously independent, confident women. My mother was/is a chemist, my grandmother’s took charge of their households, my aunts are all working jobs that they love while simultaneously raising children. My research bosses are both women, my managers at Disney were often women, my economics professor (and hopefully future mentor) is a woman and so many of my favorite language professors were women. It’s easy to see why I am the way I am haha. I truly believe that these women have shaped me in immeasurable ways across all aspect of life. However, when I found Second Sex by Simone De Beauvoir on our bookshelf, I was a little bit intimidated to learn what my fate would be as a woman but let me tell you I was not disappointed. 

Second Sex was written in the 1950s by feminist Simone De Beauvoir in France. It was roughly translated into English and is commonly referred to as required reading in both women studies and existentialism courses. The topics discussed follow womanhood through Destiny (biology), History, Myths, The Formative Years, Situation, Justifications, and Liberations. 

The Destiny section, in my humble opinion, was the most boring (although still necessary). It essentially delves into the differentiations between the male and female sex biologically as well as how these biological factors are often apparent in animals as well. I was very pleased with her writing because she truly did not sugar coat anything at all and her opinions were very minimal in comparison to fact. In that regard, De Beauvoir compares the obligations of the male and female in terms of perpetuating a species. As i’m sure you’ve all learned in an intro either history or biology class, the intents and purpose of the male are to protect while the purpose of the female is to maintain. The female is the passive vessel and the man is the active instigator. That’s just how it is. I found it interesting that she discusses that it was actually commonly believed that the male had less of an active role in sexual reproduction than we know now, meaning that many people thought the sperm weren’t even necessary for reproduction. Anyyyway, 

Historically accepted, these biological responsibilities contributed to what we’ve studied as the hunter-gatherer societies. It’s a biologically known fact that a higher percentage of a man’s body weight is attributed to muscle mass, therefore they were always out hunting. Women, on the other hand were left to their own devices at home. In fact, we know that the sole purpose of the woman at the time was to be a distraction for her husband. Her kids were often encouraged to “grow up” and “help out” but she was often doomed to a sedentary life. Not only that, but the nomads of patriarchal societies very seriously viewed women as sexual objects of pleasure, always giving and never taking. That’s why polyamorous relations were so common. They had no right to argue against at that point. There were some societies however, that had different views. In matriarchal societies the woman’s running of the household was more highly respected. The reasoning for this bleeds into the Myths section of the book. 

Since ancient civilizations and the creation of the domestic community, both myth and religion have attributed the characteristics of the woman to that of nature. A theme commonly referred back to in this book is that woman is immanence while man is transcendence. This means that the woman represents “the divine” she is nature and the uncontrollable. This is an interesting view because as a pipeline debate, this has been seen as both a good and bad thing. The woman can represent beauty in the form of mother nature, or inherent evil if she is left to her own devices, and will therefore resort to black magic and witchcraft. It’s kind of like...wait what? But at the time it made sense. Males, on the other-hand transcend the universe. They operate entirely outside of what is natural. If you think about it, in school we always talk about how the creation of the first tools of cavemen were so important because they represented a control over that which was previously unable to be controlled. In essence, that is what the man represents. The ability to lasso and reign the chaos of the universe. Woman, contrastingly, IS that chaos. She is emotional and flighty and confused. She doesn’t know if she should be proud of her womanhood or ashamed and that is all due to the psychology of the formative years. 

As a young girl, and I’ll be pretty blunt here, there is psychological debate about the concept of penis envy. What this means is that at a young age a young girl may see her brother..I don’t know...peeing in the woods or something and think “wait, why can’t I do that” and this is often subconscious in the sense that there is known to be internal dread and shame associated with not being able to see and control female genitalia as easily as males can. Along with this, puberty is like a slap in the face. We’re (females) are always encouraged and supported in “becoming a woman” but it’s a horribly inconvenient process. In fact, De Beauvoir even concludes that this stigma in a girl getting her period for the first time often leads to an inferiority complex because for the first time she tangibly recognizes her societal insubordination and passivity. Pessimistically said, she realizes that she will be a prisoner to her body for the rest of her life (yay!) This kind of confusion continues into adolescence where the entirety of a girls life (most of the time, not all of the time..of course there are exceptions) is spent thinking about catching the attention of some guy. This is ingrained in us whether we like it or not and god FORBID you grow too old for a guy to be attracted to you anymore before you get married..it’ll be seen as you abandoning your life’s purpose. 

There’s a section about sexual initiation that honestly made me a little bit sad. Mainly because it really drilled home the concept of passivity. There used to be such a huge stigma about sex and what it represents and a lot of that was often biologically incorrect anyway. For example, historically, if you have sex and a woman’s hymen breaks it means she was previously a virgin and there should be blood to prove this case. However, it’s been widely known in recent years that some women don’t even have a hymen or it broke doing some sort of remedial task like riding a bike and they don’t even realize it. In simple terms, it’s really not that deep haha. In some cultures, it can be though. There are cultures that actually PREFER that a woman has had sex multiple times before she gets married because it means that the husband will have a more enjoyable time with someone who is experienced rather than having to carefully operate. 

The stigma of the virgin was a big thing too. Naturally, this has a lot to do with religious preferences (but I guess in their eyes it’s obligation) to remain chaste until your wedding night. Personally, (not always) I think this can be a toxic mindset. When sex is viewed on a pedestal, a lot of women are unfamiliar with their bodies and often become frigid and afraid of having sex for the first time. And if I know anything it’s that in life there are so many times where body and mind operate in tandem. If you are afraid of something that you’re naturally created to do then there is a higher chance of your body rebelling against you (I should know lmao). 

Simone also talks about sexual preference, because even in the FIFTIES they knew that sex and gender and sexual preferences were all different things *ahem*. Anyway, a man is often viewed as superior due to their virile temperaments, which if you don’t know, means that they naturally are stronger, have more energy, and have a more dominate and regular sex drive. These are all things that very clearly are not biological in my eyes, meaning that women can adopt this temperament as well in the form of being more energetic and a more dominate and strong personality which often leads to becoming a lesbian. I don’t want to be too detailed about this topic because I don’t want to say anything ignorant, but a lot of it is related to how you were reared as a child. Determinants include either having a positive or negative relationships with your mother, having deep relationships with women mentors etc etc. She makes the claim that the opposite is true of homosexual men. There’s a lot going on there. I was pleased to see, however, that again, she was very factual and it was surprising to me that she did not exert as much of an opinion as I would have thought. She did, however, claim that sexual preference was a choice and in that regard I disagree. While temperament is SWAYED by environment, it is not entirely determined by such. In every scientific/psychological etc debate, nature and nurture are coexistent. You can’t pick and choose when that’s true and when it’s not. 

I could easily go on and on and on about this book. She talks about the origins of prostitution and what it means to be a mother and what happens to women when they mature etc, BUT, I must narrow the rest down because I’m getting tired :) 

A very interesting point to me was the concept of ego and narcissism in terms of romantic relationships. She says that in (heterosexual) relationships, the man is often looking to condition and mirror/ learn more about himself through the woman while the woman was subconsciously looking to validate herself through the affections of the man. Damn, that’s definitely a statement. I’ll be honest I was a little bit pissed because it felt like she was saying we have no coherent thoughts of our own when in reality what she was saying was that this is what the sexes are CONDITIONED for, and in every relationship I’m sure there is an ounce of truth to this. However, she also said that it’s important to adopt both tendencies if you want a functioning relationship. By this she means that the male, while recognizing the femininity of the woman must also allow her to become independent and transcend. She must be able to learn just as much about herself through her relationship with him as he does with her. In the same way, guys want to be validated too. For a lot of them, if they’re sincere and genuine then the validation of their lover or wife or whatever would be enough. That represents a sense of maturity that a lot of guys don’t have (that’s why their relationships don’t work). 

A big part of maintaining a relationship, in tandem with maturity levels, seem to be a sense of obligation. It’s likely that sex drive will die down and as the bodies of individuals deteriorate there are other things that keep couples together. Obviously it’s scary thinking about losing the novelty in a relationship and having someone get bored of you, but optimistically every day is a new day and if you’re going through it with someone you truly love then you shouldn’t get bored. In fact, the mundaneness of everyday life often brings people closer in the weirdest ways. 

I skipped a lot, but the last section is about a woman’s liberation. It’s about the balance between accepting her femininity and bracing a man’s world. It’s about being prepared to not be taken seriously, to be ignored, to constantly have to prove her worth in the business world. Again, I love how blunt Simone is. She really says that there is cause and reason for societal change, but don’t be naive...and she was so right. Considering the fact that it has been 70 years since this book was written and so many of her points still hold true is proof enough of her pragmatic way of analyzing the world. She said that it would be difficult for the intellectual woman to succeed because she would constantly be at odds between her goals and her womanly obligations. 

This sentiment bummed me out a little bit but when I read it again I realized that while she said it would be difficult, she never said it would be impossible ;) 

-Julia 

[drarrylovebot-blog]

All is Well, All is Done.

Prompt: Teddy got into a fight with Harry while it might be his last day.

“You what?!” Harry explodes inside McGonagall office. He was just finishing dinner inside his house when Minerva urgently firecalls him, so that he immediately get to Hogwarts. He was summoned only to find that apparently Teddy is in a big trouble. Minerva personally glares at Teddy and asks him to explain himself to Harry.

“I curse one of my classmates.” Teddy said quietly.

“You curse someone, as in using the curse spell, or you curse someone, as in using the dirty words?” Apparently Harry’s brain can’t digest this small piece of information because right now Minerva is glaring at the both of them. Teddy is currently looking like a kicked puppy.

“I curse someone as in using three curse spells.” Teddy knows not to evoke Harry’s anger with smartarse comment.

“Three almost lethal curse spell, Mr. Lupin.” McGonagall reprimands Teddy in a very scary voice. Harry sighs before putting off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes shuts tightly.

“And why exactly did you do something like that?” Harry asks before witnessing Teddy’s posture becomes rigid, his eyes only show anger.

“He mocks me.” Teddy answers curtly which only makes Harry’s anger implodes.

“Teddy, you can’t go around cursing people that mocks you! What are you? Five years old? You don’t throw a tantrum in a form of a curse, Teddy Lupin! What- Are you-” Harry takes a very deep breath because it seems like the words have vanished from his brain “Did I fail completely on teaching you about magic?”

“I’m sorry; can we please just forget this? I was wrong, and I am sorry; I won’t do that again. Please?” Teddy begs, but it only makes Harry looks constipated.

“No, Teddy, we certainly can’t just forget whatever this is! You don’t walk around cursing people as you wish, not mild curses, and certainly not lethal curses. What were you thinking?!” Teddy laughs bitterly at that. “Teddy, the person you curse today could have died! Believe me, you don’t want that on your conscience.”

“I am sorry, okay? Professor, I am sorry for causing this unnecessary problem. I am sorry that Harry has to dash here in an instance, I’m sorry that I have casted three lethal curses on someone who apparently thinks that Harry Potter is an obnoxious fame whore. I should have let it slide that he said Harry sodding Potter is a moron who has a hero complex, or that it is good those lot of Order of whatsoever bird were currently buried six feet under ground, or that people should understand that Harry bloody Potter was hanging on a sheer dumb luck while defeating the Dark Lord and those buried so called heroes corpses were the concrete prove of that! I am truly sorry; I should have hexed him into oblivion instead of casting lethal curses.” Both adults in the room are stunned with shock. With that, Teddy excuses himself from McGonagall’s room, but Harry forbids him.

“Teddy, you’re doing something very rude, right now.” His voice is somehow choked in his throat.

“You know what, Harry? I don’t care that I’m doing something rude right now. You need to remember that you are not my father, so stop trying to be one!” Teddy says with fierce strides to where Harry is standing, challenging the green orbs with his own brown eyes. “And for the record? Yes, you did fail to teach me.” He spits the words out of his mouth, Teddy knows how untrue his words are, how meaningless, and how he only said it because he is very angry right now. Teddy knows how guilty he will be later, but for now he’ll say whatever crosses his mind. Later turns out to be sooner, much sooner. The sheer pain in Harry’s eyes is so strong, it almost knocks Teddy to his knees, begging for forgiveness, but the things that happens next is worse, far worse.

Harry’s feet take an unconscious step back as he lets Teddy’s words fog his mind like a plague. He fails. He’s not enough. He takes another step back as he feels the bile rise in his throat. The next thing he knows, he is vomiting on McGonagall’s expensive rug, but more importantly he’s vomiting blood. The last thing he hears is McGonagall’s panic voice, calling his name. Teddy is frozen on his feet as he stares at the amount of blood coming from Harry’s –everywhere– ear, eyes, nose, but especially his mouth. Harry is vomiting –no, oozing blood everywhere, and Teddy is frozen, staring like an idiot while McGonagall’s panic voice fills the room.

“Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter!” McGonagall’s voice brings him back from his stupor. “Merlin! Harry, hang in there, dear boy, hang in there. Mr. Lupin, I’m guessing you’re already capable to Apparate?” McGonagall’s voice can only means business.

“Yes, Professor.”

“Go outside, Apparate to St. Mungo at once, alert them I’m coming with Harry. I need to alert other people first.”

“With all due respect Professor, but there’s no time. I’ll Apparate the both of us to St. Mungo, you can alert other people.” Teddy says with every ounce of patience in his being.

“Alright then, go, now!” With that, Teddy levitates Harry’s unconscious body in a hurry and brings him outside, before he knows it, he already arrived inside St. Mungo. He immediately runs to the counter.

“Help me, please.”

“What’s the patient name?” The girl asks too cheerily.

“Are you blind? He’s Harry fucking Potter, and he needs help. So, if you want your bloody saviour to survive, I suggest you to fetch him a healer, now.” The girl gasps at Teddy’s obvious irritation.

“Go to the fifth floor, there should be someone already waiting for you. Please come back here later to finish all the documents.” Teddy ignores the necessities and goes straight to the elevator. When the elevator door opens, people are already buzzing, ready to take Harry’s unconscious, floating body.

“Please tell me you can save him.” He asks vulnerably to the kind face woman that takes Harry to a room. She smiles at him.

“Don’t worry, he’s the best we have. If anyone can save Harry Potter, it’s him.” They finally get settled inside a room. Harry is free of blood for the moment, but Teddy can see some red liquid is already oozing from his nose again. His face is strikingly pale; the same goes to Teddy’s face from everyone’s point of view. Teddy is currently in a weird haze right now, his mind is screaming in fear, but his face only shows a mask of calculated look with pale skin. He most probably will faint out of fear or a heart attack as his heart is stubbornly beating a tattoo on his chest.

“Good evening, what do we have here?” A voice startles him as he doesn’t hear the door opens. Teddy’s shock only grows bigger when he sees who is speaking.

“Cousin.” He says quietly. Draco Malfoy is looking at the paper in his hand when he slowly looks at someone who is currently speaking. His grey eyes are suddenly flitted with so many emotions –recognition, shock, confusion, realization, fear, and finally settle in panic.

“Teddy…” he answers as quiet, but his eyes dart in panic at the person on the hospital bed, before striding and start poking at Harry’s unconscious body. In ten seconds –Teddy counts- Draco is successfully putting his professional mask. His eyes are dark, calculating. His face doesn’t show any vulnerability. His voice doesn’t even wobble. Teddy doesn’t get fooled though; he knows how scared Draco is right now. “What happened to him?” At that question, Teddy falters. He cannot conjure a full sentence. “Be strong, Teddy, I need your help. Help me, Teddy.” Draco shows his weakness as the last word cracks on his throat. Teddy takes a deep breath before explaining.

“He was needed at school just 10 minutes ago. One second he was fine, the next he was stepping back and suddenly vomiting on the floor. The only thing that came out is blood. He was oozing blood.” Teddy feels quite proud that he can bring himself almost to the professional mask Draco is putting.

“What do you mean by oozing blood?” Draco is now pointing his wand at Harry’s body. The tip changes colour from blue to purple to red.

“I mean the blood came out from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. It was scary.”

“Hm, I can imagine.” He says coldly.

“Can you help him, Cousin? Will you?” Teddy’s voice finally crumbles. Draco looks at him sharply.

“I will do whatever I can to help him, Teddy. We both won’t lose him, not like this, not today.” Teddy nods gratefully then slips out of the room.

*

Teddy waits in front of the room, trusting Harry’s life in Draco’s hand. Some people will definitely say it’s stupid, giving Harry Potter’s life in a silver plate to a Death Eater. Teddy believes in good, the perks of growing up with Harry Potter as a role model, he believes that Draco Malfoy is the best healer St. Mungo has, and if anyone can save his Godfather, it’s Draco Malfoy, but Teddy also knows that the last thing he had said to his God father could be that he had failed on growing Teddy to be the best version he can be. A few moments later, Draco comes out from the room.

“How is he?” Draco looks weary.

“Should be good now that he has stabilized.” Teddy feels something so strong knocks his chest that he falls to his feet. He sits on the floor with his back on the wall.

“Thank Merlin, for one moment I thought he was gonna die.”

“Not on my watch, kiddo.” Draco says and sits beside Teddy. Only then Teddy lets his emotions consume his entire being. Only then Teddy lets himself cry. “Hey, shh, it’s okay, he’s okay. It was some kind of poison, lethal enough to kill, not too strong so the person will die slowly. I was able to get most of it out of his system, and his immune system should be able to fight the leftovers.”

“We were fighting, Draco, and right before he started vomiting blood, I had said some horrible things. I thought I lost him. I thought the last thing he would hear from me before he die was those mean things. I am a horrible person.” A sob rips from Teddy’s throat. Draco puts his arm around the smaller boy’s shoulder and tries to soothe him.

“What were you fighting over? Why was he needed in Hogwarts?”

“I cursed someone today. He said some mean things about Harry and you all. I just couldn’t take it. The curses were drawn from my wand before I could think of what I should do. Harry didn’t know the reasons. He got very mad, and I got very embarrassed that I didn’t want him to know. And then I got mad which made everything worse… Oh my God, Draco, I told him that he’s not my father. I told him to stop acting like one. I told him that he failed on being a role model. Draco, it was so horrible. Why did I say such things?!”

“Because you’re an angry fifteen years old, Teddy. Harry said some pretty mean things too when he was fifteen. Oh, he was so full of anger on his fifth year. I, too, did cruel things when I was fifteen. The point is it’s a common knowledge that fifteen years old teenagers are just full of pent up anger that mistakes are bound to happen. Be strong, Teddy. Don’t walk around with curse on the tip of your tongue. Don’t make a mistake I made. Be strong as Harry when he was fifteen.”

“What if he doesn’t forgive me? I saw how hurt he was over my words, Draco. It feels like his world is crumbling down just from a mere lie from an angry fifteen years old.”

“That is because he loves you too much. Apologize, Teddy, he will forgive you, unless we’re talking about a different Harry here.” That actually brings a smile toward Teddy’s face. Draco grins at him before getting up to leave. “Go in there, he’ll probably wake up in a few minutes.”

*

Teddy was holding Harry’s hand in a tight grip when Harry finally moans as he wakes up. His eyelash flutters as he struggles to open his eyes. After a few minutes his eyes fixes on Teddy.

“Teddy?” his voice is weak. Teddy smiles weakly.

“Hey, Harry.” He says softly before tightening his grip on Harry’s hands. “There are many people asking for you outside. You made them quite worry.” Harry seems to have remembered their last conversation because he cannot look Teddy right in the eye. “I have made a lot of mistake, Harry. None of them compared to how guilty I feel right now. I am sorry. I am very sorry; yes you’re not my dad, Harry. You’re the person who makes sure I have food on my stomach everyday and I have roof above my head since I can remember. I hate myself for saying any of that. Please act like you’re my dad. Without you, I won’t even understand half of the things that are going around in this world. No, Harry, you did not fail on being my role model. You’re the only person I have idolized for as long as I can even think. Forgive me. I have no idea that it would hurt you that much, I thought I would lose you, please that can’t be the last thing you heard from me. I’m sorry I cursed that boy, I just got so mad that he insulted you. I love you, I’m sorry.” Teddy is now clutching at Harry’s hospital gown while crying openly on the hand he clasps between his palms. Harry’s free hand stroke Teddy’s blue hair softly while shushing the crying boy.

“It’s okay, Teddy. Hey, it’s alright yeah, don’t worry, I forgive you. And I’m not leaving, I’m not going anywhere. I love you too, please don’t cry, it’s okay, I’m okay…” Once they are calm enough, Draco makes his entrance. Teddy’s hair turns strikingly blond in a second.

“Hello again, Teddy, all’s well?” Teddy nods happily. “Good. How are you feeling, Potter?” Teddy only rolls his eyes, it’s their little secret that his cousin once removed is bloody infatuated with his Godfather.

“Quite good, yeah. You’re the one in charge for me, Malfoy?”

“Oh stop with the awkward politeness. Just an hour ago, you almost popped your eyes in panic seeing his unconscious state, Cousin. And yes, Harry, he’s the one that just save your life. All life debts are paid. You’ve grown up since seven years of petty animosity, yes? All is well, all is done, now he likes you, you like him, please get this simply done and make out. I’m tired of hearing you both whining about each other.” Draco’s eyes widens comically, while Harry splutters the water he’s drinking. “Don’t forget there are others that want to know your condition, Harry. Cousin, use protection.” Teddy winks, smiles widely, and then goes outside happily. All is well. All is done.

[simplinsity-blog]

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year, my Loves! 2016 was a huge year of transition for me. New city, new position and all kinds of new feelings about all kinds of new developments! I've been trying to put a bit of it in words all week, with little success. As with most things in my life, it's been a process. Great days, tough days, two steps forward... three days in bed. Leaving "home" proved far more challenging at 38 than it was at 18. Truthfully, though, what I was really thinking while spending NYE surrounded by friends (& mourning George Michael via Amy Griffith's YouTube playlist) was, what now? The process is never-ending, of course. It ebbs and flows as needed to keep me afloat or simply to comfort me when I need a minute to breathe. And going into this year, truthfully, I think we ALL might need a minute. Transition on a grand scale is afoot! And while I can't say I'm truly prepared for things to come... I am really trying my hardest. At what? Well, that's the question, right? Daily Trump-team stories continue to weigh heavily on my mind. I experience varying degrees of confusion/disbelief, rage & a little fear everytime I turn on the radio or, god-forbid, browse my twitter feed (for the love... can someone just delete his app already?). Attempting to make sense of how we got here as a nation hasn't worked for me. Nor has trying to understand this as a personal choice made by many people I love & respect (we did all see the same asinine behavior throughout the campaign). So, I think the answer to the "what now" question has to just go back to the basics. Here are a few things I jotted down about 1am on January 1st (with several vodkas on board) and elaborated on a bit this week... * Seek Truth. Be Vigilant. * Of course we've seen so much non-sense this year. Most recently, in all the false news stories (and blatant lies) surrounding the election, but also earlier in the year. So many shootings and so many videos of shootings and yet everyone's truth seems to be so different. Partially it's understandable, we all perceive events and information through our own lenses, but mostly it isn't. It's easy & comforting to go with the stories that align themselves with what you want. I know. I do it too. BUT it's important not to. Truth in journalism. In science. Facts. All of these seem to be so elusive these days. I mean, if you flood the world with half-truths, everything seems like just a theory, right? And of course, most of these issues are nuanced & complicated... making them even tougher to navigate. BUT, we need to find more truth. Seek out alternative sources. Open our minds. And we need to practice vigilance in doing so. And then, we need to be vocal. I don't always share a lot. I'm not pushy. I fall prey to the liberal "to each his own" mentality when it comes to shouting from the rafters. But there are thoughts, opinions, behaviors that are dangerous. Perhaps we see this differently. Perhaps (I hope with every single ounce of my being) the personal thoughts, opinions and behaviors expressed by our President-elect will not influence the way he runs this country. Either way, I will try, this year to practice vigilance in finding truth and speaking out. * Be Kind. Start from LOVE. * I try always to be kind. Trust me, I don't always succeed, but I always feel better when I do. Have empathy. Really try. And when you can't, have compassion. That's the second part. In the immortal words of the King of Pop, Start from L.O.V.E. I have this thought every. single. time. before something hateful comes out of my mouth. Sometimes, it works. Not always. Sometimes, I'm mean or judgmental or just truly can't. No matter how wrong I know I am. But A LOT of the time, it makes me stop and re-think. Even if I don't have a fucking clue how we got here, what you are thinking, or how on earth I'm supposed to feel about it, I can usually take a deep breath, open my heart to love and start over. I mean, we're all human, right? We have, if nothing else, that commonality. And we all want love of some kind. Like I said, I don't always succeed, but I always feel better when I try. * Accept the good. * I stole this one from a beautiful movie I love called The Things We Lost in the Fire. Accept the good. Such a simple concept, but so difficult at times. It's so easy to let our fears, neuroses, or just plain negative thoughts rule. So many things are difficult or tiring or seem impossible. This year, I will be better at recognizing & accepting the good. In people, in situations, from friends. I will welcome the good with gratitude & perhaps, in 2017, difficult & tiring won't seem quite as impossible? So, that's my plan. We'll see how it goes. I mean, it's easy to get lazy & complacent, right? But I figure if it's out there in the universe, if I can remind myself with a quick read (or we can remind one another), I just may stay on track! So, Happy 2017, my darlings! May we all fare-well & find our peace!

[sleepylasercats]

If I asked you to get in your car and drive for me, would you leave your house? Would you leave your warm bed of comfort, step into the sleet, and plunge into the darkness? How far would you drive on a school night into a hopeless one? Are your promises of commitment empty, just for show, the “right thing to say”, or will you be there to block the path of pills with the intent to tunnel through my throat? I promise you it’s never been as bad as it is tonight. It will take every second and ounce of strength for me to make it to sunrise. Empty, exhausted, and broken I’ll drag myself to work. I’ll put on my human mask and pretend my soul isn’t screaming to be mercy killed. My body is solitary confinement and all you do is open a sliver of me to feed me tiny morsels of decency and you think that’s enough. God forbid I honor the true meaning of body autonomy and choose to make this darkness permanent. You’d hate that but hey, you’d get a few months of attention-grabbing Facebook statuses. Here’s a reminder: I don’t fucking belong to you. I belong to me. If I stay alive through a night like this it should be because of me, because I still have hope, because I still want to make this work, I don’t want to break up with life yet. Instead I stay alive from the anxiety I feel about leaving my cats without a mom for the second time. I stay alive from fear of judgment of how messy my apartment is, and guilt that one of you will have to spend a portion of your existence sort through my belongings. I stay alive from anxiety that in my absence you’ll discover I actually was pathetic and you’re better off without me. I stay alive from fear that some, or even just one, of you will be affected by my leaving in a way that will trigger those dormant death chemicals you’ve always had but never truly faced and your grief over me will turn you into me. I stay alive from anxiety and fear, and so I live in anxiety and fear, and that depresses the hell out of me, which makes me want to die more, which fills me with more fear and anxiety, for which I then stay alive because I’m too busy over-thinking to actually swallow those pills and lay down. Friendship to me is showing up. Sun or sleet. Dismissal is betrayal. I don’t ask for much because when I do I’m always disappointed. You’re with me or you’re against me. Show up or go home. Stop holding me hostage. If you love something let it go. Let me go. Stop making empty promises, start showing up, and change the way you think about what death means to someone like me. I know all of the rational arguments to staying alive but reality and rational thinking don’t erase the pain. To me death is mercy. Relief. Sleep. Serenity. You don’t have to understand that but you’re going to have to deal with it someday. If not me it will be someone else. And what will you think? Where will your anger flow? Will you say that I’m selfish and cowardly? I’d argue that you’re the coward. You are selfish. You’re selfish for clinging to this idea that everyone who is built like you and thinks like you is “normal” and everyone who is like me is broken in an ugly, shameful way. You think you need bells and whistles to impress me; like shiny objects are enough to distract me from the dark thoughts waiting for me in the wings. You are the one who needs to change. Everything you do enables me to be silent. Silence equals death. I don’t talk very much and I think you know that. Ask yourself why that is. I’m tired of pretending the people around me aren’t complicit. You are. You are why I feel tortured every waking moment of my life. You are a part of this machine. You can’t save me. You can’t fix me. You can’t make me happy. You can’t stop me from killing myself if I wander too far into that headspace. There is nothing you can do for me. It’s time we all stop pretending. The pretending is literally killing me. It’s stressing me out so much that I can barely function on simple tasks. Please stop. Just stop it. I don’t want you in my brain anymore. You belong in my heart, not my head. The narrative needs to change. If I cannot be my authentic self without your judgment, your criticism, your prejudice, your pity, your charity, then I cannot be my authentic self. The hiding is suffocating me. I’m dying. You need to stop being an audience member. Peel your skin off from the comfort of your warm bed and join me outside. I don’t need you to understand, I just need you to respect the mystery. Respect me as a whole person. I’m not broken, I’m just different. Your erasure of my differences is what will actually erase me. Stop. Please. Stop. Please.