#i also feel that this behavior has something to do with the way men glorify and idolize fictional abusers

[pinkfey]

i will be real i feel like men are like. impressed by the extent of what diddy has done.

[housecatclawmarks]

It feels important to note that while there can be very healthy age gap relationships between adults and there are ppl in their 20s who seek out much older partners (which im not gonna tell them not to! they’re adults w a right to fuck & it’s none of my goddamn business), there is not a ‘positive tradition of gay age gap relationships’ and I think it’s good to asses that statement critically when someone says it to you.

The historic frequency of age gap relationships in Western gay culture specifically, especially Britain, does not come from roots that have anything intrinsically to do with homosexuality. What it comes from is specifically rich, mostly white queer men doing what many, many rich white men have done throughout history regardless of sexuality-using their racial & class power to have consensual or coercive sex with young working class people & people of color. The power imbalance between age&experience AND financial status was romanticized a Lot by these rich gay men in the late 19th and early 20th century (think about ppl like Oscar Wilde, Walt Whitman, E.M. Forster, Edward Carpenter, etc) and relationships with poor young men & sometimes teenaged boys were sought out enthusiastically under the guise of imitating ‘the Greek acceptance of homosexuality’-which makes sense when you consider where & how a lot of these men were educated.

The illegality of gayness & oppression of lgbt people definitely made it hard to find examples of same-gender attracted people in society, which helps contribute to the Greek imitation thing but also more importantly created situations where young lgbt people who were working class, who were immigrants, who weren’t white were facing the most severe consequences under the law for their sexuality & gender expression, were living the hardest lives, & were easier to exploit by rich and powerful men because of it. The ones doing the exploiting weren’t doing it because they were gay, the criminalization of homosexuality just made it easier for them to take advantage as they did the same thing their heterosexual peers did to young women & girls who were working class, immigrants, & women of color.

If anything the fact that conditions in the UK & US have improved so much legally and socially for cis gay people has made it much more achievable to have ethical, healthy age gap relationships between people who want them, even though these issues do still exist. Again, it definitely can and does happen, and adults have the right to date & fuck each other if they want to, but that type of relationship does not need to be culturally tied to something unhealthy, coercive, & produced by classism and racism.

It’s a subject I think a lot of western gay people & historians shy away from talking about and really seeing as what it was because we’re so often wrongly smeared as pedophiles & gay sexuality is accused of being predatory to children & teens as way to harm and criminalize gay people, and I understand the fear of playing into that, which is why it’s so important to me to emphasize again that this exploitation was a product of class and racial inequality and homo/transphobia, not an innate quality of gay or trans society. But we do need to talk about it! We need to address it! And (saying this As one) white gay men NEED to find queer history & role models who aren’t rich, imperialist pedophiles-there have been SO MANY OF US who aren’t that! the majority of queer people in history have not been that! We have a rich culture and history to draw from here without glorifying or toning down really gross, predatory behavior from a handful of wealthy men & the class that enabled them.

[bitsandbobsfromrandomfandoms]

Sometimes I think there is a lot of internalized misogyny that shows up in fanfiction that remains unaddressed because it's so hard to talk about.

It is practically against fandom etiquette to think critically about fanfiction. I even feel very icky doing it when I know that many writers and artists churn out their content for free.

I have nothing but deep love and respect for fan-content creators. (From the bottom of my heart, thank you for your service 🫡)

But there are a lot of underground aspects about fandom that goes unacknowledged because even as I sense them, it feels ephemeral and intangible. I’m only one person, I don’t think I know how to articulate this much less speak of it with any kind of conviction.

So for the sake of that, I'm going to try and chip away at it and see if the words come over-time.

My more critical opinions are posted here and not in the comment section on ao3 because I have no desire to truly discourage anyone.

And first, let me just say I truly loved this story. I enjoyed the bloody shit out of it.

Draco's snarky, unfailing sense of humour even in face of utter tragedy was just chef's kiss.

10/10 recommend.

But there is one bone I want to pick and it's this:

It is established that by the end of the story, that Harry has fallen in love with Draco but chose to go back to his wife.

Why? Because he wants to have a family and children which was the reason he and Ginny were fighting to begin with and since Draco can't give him that, they both agree to end things.

Draco himself, has a very beneficial arrangement with his wife since she is also gay and they're acting as each other's beards but we see nothing of Harry's relationship with Ginny.

So my question is, what is she in this story besides a glorified baby-maker?

Draco and Harry eventually end up back together when their children are grown and they are middle-aged men. Harry even jokes that Ginny thinks he's gay and Draco says "10 points to Gryffindor".

Which is funny because at the beginning of the story, when Draco was giving advice under the guise of Lavender Brown to the man who wrote to Prophet, Draco advises him to break-up with his wife so she wouldn't lose years of her life with someone who couldn't want her back the same way:

She is young enough to start again with someone else. You want bitter? Denying you're gay and then finally admitting this to her when she's forty-five is sure to warrant her casting at least three different castration charms in your direction. And I wouldn't blame her.

And yet this is exactly what Harry does to Ginny.

This isn't so much a criticism as it is an observation that Harry was extremely selfish and cruel.

On top of that, I have a few more bones to pick at but none of them are as big or as important as the first one. They're just little things to be mindful of to maintain the distinction between good story-telling and reality.

The first is that, Harry in this story was healer and it was so much fun to see him take on this role since there are so many stories that feature Draco as a healer. But in this story, he was sacrificing his own life's energy to save people who would otherwise die. A physical consequence of doing this was his constant fatigue and how he seems to be just as thin and gaunt as Draco, who is somewhat starved and malnourished in this story.

In real life, when someone is prone to such extremes of behavior, they don't just stop doing what they are doing because someone asked them to. It's something of a compulsion or an addiction to them. So if the story was realistic, and Harry was actually absorbing other people's deaths, he wouldn't stop simply because Draco asked him to, he would continue to do what he was doing but hide it better.

There was also the strange role-reversal that took place after Harry saved Narcissa where instead of Draco thanking him, it was the other way around because Draco made him promise to stop. This isn't bad per se, but since I'm something of an expert in abusive relationships, something that comes up often in situations of lamp-shading or gaslighting is that the person who is being gaslighted is usually expressing the sentiment that in the given circumstances, it makes more sense for the other person to be expressing. So I'm hyperaware of that even though it may not necessarily apply here.

My last nitpicking is that Draco does not seem to have any sexual trauma because all the coercion and assault he's endured. Again, realistically this is unlikely. People who have gone through what he did don't walk out of the same way. And yet, apart from the physical damage to his knees, psychologically, he seems fine. I don't think this is so much of a complaint because I realise that if the story did address sexual trauma, it wouldn't be as light-hearted and enjoyable as it was. So I like to think that this is something that Draco might've had to come to terms with, off-screen.

I really did love the story but off-late, I'm more mindful of the way women are written in fanfiction because I really think that part of the reason m/m fanfiction is so much fun to read is because it never has to address to complex social dynamics that exist between men and women.

It's a space where women get to ignore the nature of living in a patriarchal world. Where sexuality isn't immediately conflated with shame or submission. Where the characters can engage in recklessness or risky behaviors without losing their relatability or be blamed for it. Where both characters seem to just be on more even footing than if one of them were a woman?

Urghh. I don’t think I’m explaining this well at all.

But I have to wonder that there are a lot of underground implications for why women go in for this kind of thing. And what it means when female characters are treated the way Ginny was in this fic?

I’ve noticed that even in many f/m fanfictions, there is this tendency to place female characters in situations of bondage or enslavement. Or they are reduced or disempowered in some way.

It’s going to take long time before I fully understand what's truly going on under the surface here.

I also think that, for straight women, reading about men in sexual situations will always be more gratifying than reading about women, because it’s what we are naturally attracted to x2. Maybe that’s why men are also very titillated by lesbian porn 🤷‍♀️

[dichromaticdyke]

skwisgaar feminism word salad response anon on another tangent again !! (is 💉 taken for an anon sign off? didn’t see so in ur beloved anon tag but i’ll be usin’ that for ease of communication on both ends)

regarding the shows take on gender: i definitely agree in the sense that it has a lot to say about gender, as well as the take of “deliberate critique of misogyny” vs “the show kinda also sucked with women” co-existing statements!!! i think in this case it just makes the internalized misogynistic fandom space behavior so much… worse in that sense, though? yes, the show did suck with women and their focuses, but with the show’s critique of celebrity + metal culture thus lending dethklok to view women of objects… it just feels like when the fandom discounts women in the show just as easily, it’s falling into the same trap dethklok does and i would argue that gets into the whole other issue of glorifying dethklok despite the fact they’re portrayed (initially, anyway) in a sort of always sunny in philadelphia “don’t be like this” way. which then turns the fans into a self-fulfilling prophecy of sorts but that is a WHOLE other tangent-

either way, it’s disheartening to watch at times.

as for depth of the show vs sometimes it’s not that deep, even for how the fans react:

1. i adore ur analyses please continue having these fits of divine madness

2. i agree sometimes it’s not that deep! sometimes fans just want to watch two guys kiss! and that’s okay!

and i definitely agree that people don’t leave their implicit biases at the door when entering fandom (and i am forever grateful you do not leave your gender studies degree at the door either; truthfully, i would not feel so open critiquing the fandom with any other creator, as your perspective is inherently unique due to a variety of factors)

but i guess my whole perspective is… yeah, it feels a lot like there’s a portion of the fandom that doesn’t work on their inherent internalized misogyny, even on tumblr, which goes back to your post regarding skwisgaar finding all women beautiful and how his willingness to sleep with fat and elderly women has become a joke to many. of course, it also gets into fatphobia, lookism, and ageism, which honestly the ageism confuses me considering most folks are also thirsting after literal middle aged cartoon men but i suppose in their minds it’s different because they’re men and “not geriatric” or something.

in the latter case: cowards, all of them, as there is an inherent beauty to aging (and skwisgaar would agree)

-💉

(also im sorry for word vomiting in your inbox AGAIN there’s so many thoughts and not enough words but like ily and everything you do for the fandom. ur brain is galaxy level always)

ehehe don't apologize dear! i'm honored and proud that i've created a space where people do feel comfortable to talk to me about feminism and lesbianism despite the overwhelming focus on men within this community (again, understandable given the context of the show, but it doesn't make it any less exhausting sometimes).

i don't really have much to say in addition to this, you hit so many points i agree with! i remember some mtl creators talking about how if you can't meaningfully recognize where the show is satirizing oppressive thoughts and behaviors and instead reinforce those behaviors through your own actions, then you're not mature enough to be engaging with the show, and that's pretty much my stance on it! again, as we've mentioned, there will always be people who don't unpack all their internalized biases, and it's very easy to let those slip through even in good faith, but that's basically the viewpoint i have.

dethklok can be genuinely awful people sometimes, and we're not meant to agree with them on everything, and we have to remember that. as much as they've become massive comfort characters to me, i would guillotine all five of them irl.

[cthuluanduwu]

I have an eating disorder. I have had an eating disorder since I was sixteen. Growing up, I watched my mother struggle with her own eating disorder, and even though she tried her best to shield me from it, that mentality was passed down early on. It became ingrained in me before I even fully understood what it was. And here’s the hard truth—eating disorders never truly go away. It’s not something you recover from in the way people think. Therapy can help, but it’s like a bad taste that lingers in your mouth.

What’s even more frightening is how normalized eating disorder culture has become, especially on social media. I constantly see content that repackages and recycles toxic ideology from ED culture, and it’s genuinely concerning. We live in a world where “thin-fluencers” are a thing—people whose entire brand revolves around promoting thinness as a form of success or beauty. It’s beyond messed up. And it’s not just a passing phase; it’s part of an ongoing trend. We’ve cycled through so many harmful beauty standards—from the "slim thick", bbl craze to now, once again, glorifying being rail-thin, much like in the early 2000s.

These trends don’t just appear out of nowhere—they’re cyclical. The problem is, if you’re someone who already has low self-esteem or is surrounded by people who reinforce unhealthy body standards, these trends can hit you hard. They start to seep into your daily thoughts, influencing the way you see yourself and your body. It starts to cling to every choice you make. For someone who’s predisposed to an eating disorder, this can be incredibly dangerous. One of the most damaging aspects of eating disorder culture is the way it assigns moral value to food. The idea that certain foods are “good” or “bad” is not only flawed but harmful. Eating a salad is often viewed as “virtuous,” while eating a slice of pizza might be considered “indulgent” or “bad.” This kind of thinking strips food of its real purpose. Human beings don’t eat purely for survival. Food is also about culture, comfort, community, and celebration. By attaching moral value to what we eat, we erase all of that richness and reduce the act of eating to a transaction of good versus bad. It reduces eating to a black-and-white system, where you’re either doing something right or something wrong every time you sit down for a meal.

The truth is, food doesn’t have moral attributes. It never will. A donut isn’t “bad” and a salad isn’t “good.” They’re just different kinds of food that serve different purposes for our bodies. You don’t have to earn your food. You don't have to punish yourself for enjoying a chocolate bar. You deserve to eat.

What’s even more alarming to me lately is how many men I’ve encountered who are being affected by ED culture without even realizing it. It’s not just a women’s issue. Men are falling into these traps too, and in some cases, it’s even more dangerous because there’s such a lack of awareness and open dialogue about it among men.

Men are under immense pressure to look a certain way, but the standards set for them are different. While women often face the expectation to be thin, men are caught in this bizarre tug-of-war between being lean and muscular—fit but not too bulky, strong but not “too big.” Fitness culture is often intertwined with ED tendencies, encouraging obsessive behavior around food, exercise, and body shape. We see it all the time.

What’s worse is that these harmful behaviors are often masked as “self-improvement” or “discipline” within male dominated spaces.

Eating disorders offer a false sense of control. They make you feel like you’re doing something right, like you’re finally taking charge of your life. But that’s where the danger lies. The more you cling to that control, the deeper it digs its claws into you. The comfort an ED provides is a trap—it tricks you into thinking you’re achieving something meaningful, when in reality, it’s taking more and more from you with every though and action it contorts. I refuse to praise anyone for eating smaller portions or congratulate someone for eating more, with the exception being recovery. I always remain silent on the topic of food. I will not feed into the narrative that shrinking your body will somehow make you more valuable.

The worst part is an eating disorder warps your perception of others. The deeper you fall into that mindset, the more fatphobic and cruel you become (towards yourself and/or others)—sometimes without even realizing it. It’s not that you’re trying to be cruel, but it makes it easy to look down on people who don’t do the things you do. You might start to believe that being thin makes you inherently better than others, that your portion controlled plate makes you more superior than the person who just ate two bowls of pasta cause they weren't full yet. It’s so heartbreaking to see people in the community making videos or posts that they believe are inspirational because they are so out of touch with reality, when all they’re really doing is perpetuating harm. And the people who are most likely to be affected by it are those already struggling, those who don’t need that added pressure or negativity.

ED culture is a toxic, all-consuming thing. It’s not just about food; it affects every aspect of your life. For me, despite therapy and countless years of trying to rewire the way I think, I find it nearly impossible to engage in physical activity without becoming fixated on weight loss. This can drive me to push my body beyond its limits, leading to significant weight loss because I end up barely eating while overexerting myself. Nutrition labels have become a source of anxiety rather than guidance. Even a quick glance some days sends me down a rabbit hole. I’ll obsess over every calorie, every gram of fat or sugar, until the meal isn’t about enjoying food or nourishing myself—it’s about numbers.

I’ve watched friends teeter on the brink of death because of this. Eating disorders aren’t just a personal struggle—they destroy lives. They ruin relationships, isolate you from others, and push you deeper into a mindset that’s nearly impossible to escape from. Recovery isn’t a straight path, and even if you’re managing it, the disorder never truly goes away. It’s like living with a constant, nagging voice in your head, telling you that you’re not good enough, that you need to be thinner, smaller, more in control.

But at some point, you have to recognize the lie for what it is. Being a certain size doesn’t make you more worthy. Starving yourself into weakness doesn’t give you strength. And most importantly, no matter what ED culture tells you, you matter now. Stop letting these influencers and trends tell you who to be

[stheresya]

What is romanticized and idiolised about the supposed love between Naerys and The Dragonknight is that whole self flagellation: remaining "dutiful", pious, "pure" in SPITE of it.

that's just your reading of it. there's nothing in sansa's pov showcasing that the appeal of aemon and naerys to her is that they never gave in to temptation. we see, however, that aemon and naerys' relationship is portrayed as a doomed romance. and while there is an element of masochism in getting invested in a relationship that's never meant to be, there is a difference between feeling for people who were kept from loving by ulterior forces, and feeling for people as a way to glorify them for honoring the societal norms that kept them apart. romantic people like sansa enjoy tragic love stories because they are often about how the love was there despite ulterior forces succeeding in destroying everything. and if someone feels so much sadness for aemon and naerys is because they see, at least on some small level, that the system of arranged marriage is problematic.

and considering that aemon & naerys alongside florian & jonquil are constantly brought up by sansa as her favorite love stories (worth noting that f&j is significantly more unchaste than a&n), and both stories feature a woman loving a man she's not supposed to, either because she's bound by duty (naerys) or because the man in question is beneath her (florian the fool), i hardly think that the point here is to celebrate characters repressing themselves to abide by societal norms. specially because sansa herself is involved in a beauty and the beast motif and is often getting paired with men who are othered by society in some way (sandor, willas, tyrion...). the text has made it clear that sansa will not find happiness with a handsome noble.

In betraying her father, Sansa thinks herself "wicked" on that side of it, but in lieu of already imagining herself the dutiful wife sitting prettily by Joffrey's throne.

well, obviously? not only she thought she was in love with joffrey, she also romanticized life at court. she went cersei because she fancied herself a lady from a song going against everything to be with the one she loved and getting her happy-ever-after alongside her prince charming. she was gonna be the ideal wife and queen because that aligned with her idealistic prospects.

As to her marriage to Tyrion, it's still a so-and-so. She would not bow for him to change her cloak, but once married she does generally act the proper married Lady in public, keeps appearances.

the most defining trait of sansa's character is how much she cares for appearances. but caring for appearances does not equal believing wholeheartedly in what they represent. case in point: girls who dress as boys and girls who have sex out of wedlock are both framed as unlady-like by westerosi society, but sansa seems more bothered by the former than the latter. why? because a girl dressing like a boy is open defiance against gender norms, while having affairs is something that you can do secretly. out of sight, out of mind.

regarding her marriage to tyrion, there is also the very significant detail that she was still a hostage, and therefore should always be on her best behavior, specially because she was hostage who was planning to escape. but even so, like i said, keeping appearances does not mean believing in what they represent. it wouldn't matter if she behaved as the most exemplary wife, in her heart she would never accept tyrion as her husband. she would never lay down her walls around him and allow them to become anything more than two people who were forced to share a bedchamber. also, nothing showcases more respect for marriage vows than fleeing your husband and letting him get framed for kingslaying, then getting betrothed to someone else before said husband is declared dead.

I don't think it's hard to conflate one and another: the romantisation all while maintaining the status quo.

one of the biggest themes in sansa's pov is how her romantic ideals are incompatible with the world she lives in. she wanted to marry for love, but she's the daughter of a great house, and therefore can only marry for political reasons. she thought knights were meant to protect the weak and the innocent, but that's an impossible task when knights are bound to serve corrupt rulers. in order to play by the rules of her world, and consequently maintain the status quo, she must repress/kill the romantic ideals inside her. the conflation between romantisation and the maintenance of the status quo is something that sansa believed in the first books. the harsh reality slapped her on the face time and time again. knights are corrupt, nobles only care for her claim and not for her. the happy marriage of her parents and the few honorable knights that exist are exceptions that confirm the rule.

my original post was never meant to argue that sansa had a rebellious nature. i meant to point the contradictions in how she behaves, and the way she thinks. to which depth the social conditioning reach her. she is lady in every sense, but that doesn't mean she upholds every ideal of what it means to be a lady. and the more she grows, the more she sets aside her romantic ideals and behaves in a more practical manner. which i don't necessarily consider a good thing for her, even if i do appreciate her being less naive.

"I love him, Father, I truly truly do, I love him as much as Queen Naerys loved Prince Aemon the Dragonknight […]" (Sansa III, AGOT) “Wed?” Sansa was stunned. “You and my aunt?” “The Lord of Harrenhal and the Lady of the Eyrie.” You said it was my mother you loved. But of course Lady Catelyn was dead, so even if she had loved Petyr secretly and given him her maidenhood, it made no matter now. (Sansa VI, ASOS)

I find that these little passages reveal something interesting about sansa's personality. specially when you juxtapose how she's characterized in the text and her worldviews here, and how at first glance they may seem contradictory. but first, let's take two things into account:

the patriarchal society of westeros is very strict on women's sexuality. which means that not only is female virginity held in great value, but also female adultery is very firmly condemned by everyone, unlike men who are allowed to maintain public mistresses and flaunt their bastards everywhere.

sansa is characterized as the conformist, the one who internalizes her society's rules. she's very religious, she's a proper lady in every sense of the word and she often says and does exactly what she's told.

and yet, in these passages we can see that sansa does not care much about societal rules when it comes to intimate feelings. she often hails aemon and naerys' (supposed) forbidden love without a single care that queen naerys was bound by duty to a husband and aemon was meant to be loyal to his king. but most astonishing of all is her nonchalant response to petyr's (false) information that her mother was not a virgin when she married. on one hand it may speak on sansa's views towards women's sexuality, since her current friends (mya and randa) are girls who engage in sex out of wedlock, and she never judges them, just like she doesn't judge her mother for apparently doing the same, and catelyn continues to be the person she admires the most. sansa also doesn't view her parents' relationship any differently because of this, the marriage between ned and cat is still as happy as she remembers, because all that matters to her is that there was love in the home she grew up in. the thing about sansa's character is that she plays by the rules up until a certain point, but on the inside she always prioritizes emotion over societal norms, and that's why she looks more upset at petyr for marrying someone while claiming to love another, because in her mind he's being unfaithful to his heart by marrying out of practicality. we have examples that showcase sansa's prioritizing feelings in AGOT when she, the good daughter, disobeys her father for the first time because she thought she was in love with joffrey, and in ASOS where she never thinks she owes tyrion anything just because he's her husband. so it comes as no surprise that she's so infatuated with the love story of an adulterous and incestuous relationship like aemon and naerys'. one of the main themes in this series is that feelings don't care about honor. and if love is the death of duty then sansa seems more than happy to see duty killed for the sake of love.

of course this doesn't mean she'll stay that way, specially when she's already lost her so much of her innocence and is now tangled in petyr's schemes where she must set her own feelings aside in order to act on his plans. and despite her silent judgement of petyr marrying someone he didn't love, her current betrothal with harry is an entirely practical union on her part since she feels nothing for him and only sees him as a means to an end. there have been many instances since book 1 where she was able to turn off her feelings in order to withstand certain situations. so... what even is sansa's mind? an interesting universe on its own for sure.

I just think sansa's romanticism is one of her most interesting traits (for better and for worse), something that truly contributes to the distinctiveness of her character, and I really hope petyr or anyone else are unable to completely kill that in her.

[childrensbread]

Discovering Real Love

💜 If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.

If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.

If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

~1 Corinthians 13:1-3 ✝️

Devotional

Let's start today . . . by stopping. It's a new week. Pause.

Ahead of you are new opportunities, challenges and experiences.

Become mindful of your breathing for a moment. As you inhale, receive the peace of God afresh. As you exhale, release any worry or fear that's built up inside of you.

Use this space to prayerfully invite God in:

💜 "Jesus, thank you for being with me. I commit my mind, body and soul to you today. I receive your love and grace. Give me the strength to live unashamedly for you this week. Amen." ✝️

We're continuing our mini-series on heavenly virtues. Over the next seven days, we're diving into LOVE, which is God's way.

Take a moment to reflect on these two questions. We'll be exploring them across the week:

What's your understanding of God's love for you? How can you grow in your love for others?

1 Corinthians 13 has been described as the defining standard for real love. On the one hand, it paints a beautiful picture of the God who doesn't just show love but actively is love. On the other hand, it acts as a measuring rod by which we can examine ourselves to see whether this love resides in our hearts and manifests itself in our lives. It's both a reassurance of how deeply we're loved, and an invitation to grow in love.

This week, we'll use 1 Corinthians 13 to propel us towards a thematic understanding of God's radical, counter-cultural love throughout Scripture. We'll also consider how we can imitate that love ourselves. Love is more than talk and feeling. It's action.

Today establishes the baseline: Without love, everything is meaningless. As Christians, this is particularly challenging. Religious "chat" or good behavior won't cut it. Raw, genuine and sacrificial love has to exude from everything we do.

Pause and consider the best gift you've ever been given.

For most, this is an interesting process. Often we start with the expensive presents. However, as we continue reflecting, other less flashy contenders appear. Things like our child's first painting. Or the time our friend traveled cross-country to surprise us. This, we realize, is the real stuff.

Instinctively, we all know that when something is done with love, it carries more meaning. If anything, however lavish, has been done as an afterthought, it feels empty.

There's no point being a Christian if we don't act with love. We can go to church. We can give generously. We can talk about righteous-sounding topics. But if we're not overflowing with love, we've missed the point. We've missed Jesus.

When we use God's gifts without love, all value is lost. Love is that important. Living a Christ-centered life is less about what you do and more about the heart with which you do it.

As we commence this week, why not join our love journey? Ask God for help, then contemplate how you can practically grow in this transformative virtue. Stir your hunger. How can you experience and showcase God's never-ending love this week? 🙏💜🙂

Source: Glorify App

Image: Daily prayer guide.net

My Glorify Referral Link: https://share.glorify-app.com/MRSPINO777 ✝️

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

180 degree longitude passes through us - Episode 4

Sorry, long post!

It feels like everyone lives in a kind of golden cage and no one can break out or leave their own skin.

Wang himself craves information about his father and not just the negative or problematic ones he gets through his mother or his father's family. The mother may not even be aware of it, but through her pain of separation and who knows what other pain there is, she can't portray the father the way Wang wants him to be. That's why he goes into particular detail about the father with In, urging him to reveal something about him, even though he probably suspects what the relationship or what the feelings between the two might have been like, he still wants to know as much as possible about him. And maybe he wants to learn that from In, because he knows that In has probably seen him through different eyes. I strongly assume that the mother knows how In and Wang's father related to each other, definitely how In felt about Wang's father. And at times it seems to me that she wants to torture him with the memory of how she used him, how she could live out what he couldn't, whether she was happy with it or not. After all, that made everyone unhappy. I think she already has so much empathy and is so enlightened that she saw what could have been between them. But I also think that she assumes that it is wrong, the love between two men. You can see that in the way she turned off the television when the two men kissed and she just said what a degenerate television landscape it is. And that will probably become a very, very big point of conflict between Wang and his mother. She herself says she doesn't want to be disappointed in him, but with her attitude to homosexuality and the nature of her son, she is laying the foundations for him to have no choice but to disappoint her.

And I find it incredibly interesting how all three suffer inwardly and how well they can portray it and how wonderfully this suffering is realised. Being trapped in oneself, in the imposed norms, in the constraints, in the fear. In is bound in his fear. He cannot fight against the fact that he loves men, which is not accepted by society, so he has become a hermit and withdrawn from everyone. Wang's mother is trapped in her social idea of what is right and what is wrong and she tries to impose this thinking on others. She wants Wang to start a family and be happy with it. That is her idea, but not that of her son. I hope she will understand that by the end of the series. She is so caught up in this role model, this image of a happy family with a child, that it may have cost her marriage in the end, because it didn't work out the way she wanted it to, the way she hoped and wished it would. And Wang is trapped in his hatred of the world and how unfair life actually is. He wants to know everything about his father and that doesn't mean he doesn't love his mother, but he idealises his father because he only gets to know this one side, the side of the hurt mother.

In says that the books you read say a lot about the person who reads them, for example Plato's Symposium as an example of how he wants to be perceived. A theorist, a philosopher, someone who doesn't act but looks at things from the outside and talks about what others are doing. He is still this person at the moment, especially for Wang's mother. He shows her another view on Wang's behavior and speaks to her mind and tries to mediate between them.

Plato's symposium is a story in which the narrator reports on the course of a banquet that took place more than a decade ago. The different participants presented the different approaches from partly contradictory theories about eroticism. Some of the participants took the conventional approach, glorifying the god of love, Eros, and describing and praising the beneficial effects of erotic love. Others went into the negative consequences of harmful eroticism and warned against it. The concept of erotic desire as an expression of the search for the other half, the soul mate, to reunite the two halves was also addressed. Socrates was the last speaker and spoke about the concept taught by Diotima, namely platonic love. The lover, in the course of his process of knowledge, directs the erotic urge towards more and more general, higher and therefore more rewarding objects. The path begins with the spontaneous desire for a single beautiful body and ends with the worthiest goal of the perception of the beauty itself, which can only be grasped spiritually. With this show of the absolutely beautiful, the longing of the eroticist reaches its fulfillment. The conclusion of the whole is Alcibiades who comes drunk to this meeting and holds a hymn of praise to Socrates, because between Socrates and Alcibiades a homoerotic attraction existed.

Since In himself is more of a theorist in love matters, the book is indeed made for him. He desires Wang, but it is this desire, the rise to beauty, and he recognizes in Wang, or perhaps in Wang's father at the time, the absolute beauty of everything, and thus the theory of his love is fulfilled, and thus he is fulfilled as well. And he tries to tell Wang that although he desires him, he will not act, will not cross that line because his desire has already found its fulfillment. At least this is what he thinks, for in theory this thinking is simple. In cannot deny the sexual attraction between the two, it is written all over them in every encounter, in every look and every touch. As a hermit, it is easy to indulge in philosophy and view theory as the highest art. Confronted with reality and people and real desire, however, this view can also falter.

The complete metaphor of crossing boundaries, of drawing lines is strong in this episode. In has the opinion that there are lines that should not be crossed. There are things that should not be acted out. Wang is the one who says, yet that's what we have to do, I like a challenge and I'm not afraid to challenge other people with my attitude. But in the episode now they are crossing lines permanently. They cross the river with the broken bridge. They go into the dangerous zone, outside of In's comfort zone. "Welcome to the dangerous side." In allows himself to be pulled along by Wang, to be pulled by him across borders, across lines he has drawn that are not walls but rifts over which bridges can be built. The bridge is a wonderful metaphor for the fact that the relationship between the two is still very unstable. Not much is missing and it can break, just as the bridge under In broke. One wrong step, one touch or one word too much and In would eventually retreat from Wang again. And yet both are craving for the physical touch. They are constantly touching each other. More as a reassurance, a comfort, but yet to be close to each other. However, Wang is there and takes responsibility for In falling from the bridge. He takes responsibility for In coming out of his shell and he wants to be there for him until he is no longer afraid to allow his feelings, to cross boundaries or simply to set them anew. Because that's the thing about boundaries. Not all boundaries are immutable. Our self-imposed boundaries/lines in particular are changeable. We can remove them, we can put in a border crossing, or we can move the borders, and that's what Wang wants to help him do. And did I mention that I love this series because it's just so great?

[castielcommunism]

I finally rewatched season 12 because of all your love for it, and it's a WILD RIDE. On a meta sense, I cannot understand the politics of it at all. like, we've got the whole, "The President is Satan" angle, which, given the 2016 American primaries and election fiasco... yeah okay (though I'm not sure of the timing of writing episodes, so I'm also kinda like...is this also because people thought Obama was the antichrist because he wanted to help poor people? ANYWAYS). And THEN there is the weird pro-life brainwashing baby son of Satan stuff, which is its own can of worms that I'm still wrapping my head around. And the whole BMOL stuff that is basically like, "bureaucracy is bad" when it should have been saying, "genocide is bad." Would have loved for Sam and Dean to have another moral reckoning with their work that actually had some CHANGES for their behavior... i digress.

but at the same time, I get to see Dean being uncertain and messy with his mom, and Sam getting to take on a leadership role as Dean steps back, and I'm HERE for that stuff. I remember being pretty peeved that they brough Mary back when I watched it live because I was kind of tired of resurrection (shocker) and didn't trust them to do anything meaningful with her story (because spn + women is almost always bad), but on rewatch I like her in season 12 with her questionable decisions and her misplacement in life and her awkward socialization with her sons.

this has been a long message, and I hope you don't mind! Thanks for reading (and for recommending another look at s12).

I’m glad you enjoyed it!! Season 12 is an absolutely insane season lol.

The satan for president shit was almost definitely a Trump thing (I doubt they were responding to right wing racism aimed at Obama, especially given that the president character in spn was a white Republican). spn’s politics become much more genetically liberal by the later seasons so it’s not super surprising. That stuff was mostly goofy shit that I didn’t really mind. Like it was inoffensively silly for the most part. And also Dean and Sam being arrested for trying for exorcise the president of the United States is an objectively hilarious plotline. The anti-christ plot line is something I can’t really place? Like I also don’t know what to think of it outside of it being just generally weird and setting up plot shit for the next season. But it’s also funny and mostly inoffensive.

However, I feel like the British Men of Letters, ridiculous and weird as they are, are thematically appropriate villains for season 12 because they’re grappling with the legitimacy of the show’s premise in much the same way Mary’s resurrection is. The BMOL are the obvious, logical conclusion to hunting - monsters are essentially bad and the only way to deal with monsters as a class of people is to destroy them. The BMOL is what hunting would look like if it were “institutional.”

But, and this is where spn runs into the wall because it can’t fully confront itself, framing the conflict as individualistic American hunting vs organisational British hunting is a false dichotomy, because American hunting is already institutional, it’s just decentralised and unstructured. The “institution” that undergirds hunting is white supremacy, specifically the American flavour of it. Hunting in supernatural forwards a bio-essentialist view of “monsters”, who are broadly speaking a class of people. Monsters don’t arise because of social forces, they are not historically or politically contingent, and the word “monster” is not an ideological one, it is a purely descriptive one. Monsters are just monsters because they’re monstrous. They are inherently bad and must be killed.

And I don’t think spn is consciously arguing this so much as it is glorifying a rugged individualistic white American masculinity, but in so doing it imports that reactionary baggage into the show. But because it’s not a text that is consciously political as such, it’s inconsistent. This is why ghosts and other spirits, for example, mostly fall outside of this model - ghosts arise from historical events, from fear and suffering, from trauma, from injustice. They’re “contingent” in this sense and not inherently evil. They are the consequence of human action, and the only way to defeat them is to reckon with the actions that led to their creation. But generally when you have flesh-and-blood monsters in the show, it’s almost always purely biological. Sometimes it’s genetic (rougarou) and sometimes it’s infectious (vampires, werewolves, Sam’s demon blood, etc). You also have cases of exception, like Garth, where people can consciously fight against their own biological destiny and be “one of the good ones,” so that further complicates it.

What the BMOL do is take all of that complexity and stand as hardliners. There are no exceptions, and it doesn’t matter what type of monster you are. They’re all bad and must be destroyed. And once you destroy the enemy in your own backyard, you move elsewhere and begin the process again.

And obviously Sam and Dean are uncomfortable with that! You’re supposed to be uncomfortable with it. The Winchester (and .: American) model of hunting is more flexible and informal, and they want to keep it that way. And like strictly speaking that’s a better model, but it’s comprised of the same ideological “stuff” as the BMOL model of hunting. The political battleground is basically how far you want to take hunting as a societal project. Do you leave it to individuals who hunt at the margins of society, or do you formalise it and make it a conscious part of society?

So like season 12 is grappling with the show Supernatural as a concept, with its politics on the one hand and its emotional core on the other. Hunting isn’t actually an unalloyed good and has unequivocally fascist conclusions if you were to industrialise it. Mary is not the perfect saintly mother figure whose corpse provides emotional justification for hunting. The biggest problem season 12 suffers from is, ironically, that it is a season of Supernatural, a show dedicated to not fundamentally changing anything, so these questions (is hunting actually bad? Is Mary a human being?) are never properly answered. Mary eventually dies again, the BMOL fade away and their remnants (Ketch) become an ally.

But despite all of that I still really enjoy season 12. I think it’s one of the most unique seasons of supernatural for this reason, and if you focus on the Winchester family drama it’s really rewarding television. I’m glad all my posting about it inspired you to rewatch it, and I’m glad you enjoyed it!

[star-killer-md]

Actus Reus, Mens Rea

@contesa-lui-alucard asked:

Hey hey happy sleepover my friend!! If it’s alright with you, I have two prompts from the Smut list that I’d love to see you combine for... mob Kylo and lawyer reader! Oh snap!! 15 & 37, if you please. If not, no worries, I still hope you have an awesome sleepover 😁 (���Make it hurt, baby.” + “Lay back and touch yourself. I want to watch.”)

Anon asked:

hello, may i request clingy/possessive kylo,, thank you

Thank you lovlies for your requests and sorry from the bottom of my depressed ass heart that it took me so fucking long. Anyway here ya go, hope you enjoy some mobster Kylo deliciousness. I’m so excited you liked him Contesa, and I hope you’re into it as well too nonny! Sorry it got long, I truly have no control over that. 

And thank you so much to @sacklersdoll for reading over this for me!

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: Angst (its me), Smut (its me), mentions of predator/prey dynamic (mostly as metaphor), possessive Kylo Ren, semi-public sex, no pronouns for the reader by they are afab, dominant Kylo Ren, some brat vibes, Kylo Ren is not nice, allusions to guns, some sorta stalking behavior

Ship: Mob Boss!Kylo Ren x Lawyer!Reader

Summary: You’ve started to take on some pro bono clients as a favor to a friend and Kylo Ren is Not A Fan™ of all the attention this guy has been paying you. After a few months of consulting on the side, you’re beginning to wonder if life working for a mob boss is something you’re really cut out for. Though you quickly learn that you very well may have passed the point of no return when Kylo shows up at your office to remind you just who exactly you work for. 

“I really can’t thank you enough.”

You shook the woman’s hands and returned her smile. Her son stayed quiet, looking at the ground, but mumbled his thanks as well. He was a good kid. Just pissed off the wrong neighbor. One of those ‘get off my lawn,’ ‘good ole American dream’ types who thought welfare was a sign of the devil, and had it out for everyone in the lower tax brackets. 

“Really, it’s no problem,” you walked them to the door, leaving her your business card. “I’ll see you both at the courthouse on Monday.” 

Evan was waiting in your office when you returned. His patent leather shoes rested precariously on the corner of your desk and you knocked them off with a huff. 

“See you’ve made yourself at home,” you said, crossing your arms and staring down at him in your chair. 

He shrugged and stood under your scrutiny, moving around to take the seat across from you. Evan Goodman was an old friend from undergrad. You often got the impression he was still that same cocky frat boy in the head. Still flashed the ‘my daddy has more money than you’ smile on occasion when he really wanted to get under your skin. With his slicked back hair, unnervingly straight teeth, and his annoying prosperity despite never putting in much effort it was somewhat shocking the two still spoke. He was simply not the type of person who had ever needed to try. Success came naturally to him, and much to your dismay.

“What can I say? You’re a very gracious host,” he mused and leaned forward on the desk. “So, how did it go?”

You sighed, “They’ll be alright, might get saddled with a fine but the charges aren’t that serious.” 

“Good, Rosa’s an old friend. I would have helped her out myself, but not really my deal ya know?”

“Yeah, Mr. Tax Attorney, I get it.” 

Evan was kind of a dick, but he was also the kind of friend who would sit on the bathroom floor with you, hold your hair back and sing horrendous parody versions of ABBA no matter who heard. So you couldn’t hate him entirely. That also meant that when he came to you with cases like this, a favor for a friend or whatever the situation may be, you had a hard time refusing. 

It was also a convenient front for you not-so-legal legal work you’d been invested in for the past few months.

“Seriously, I know I’ve been asking a lot of you recently,” he flashed you that god awful grin and kicked his feet up again. “You can tell me to fuck off if it’s too much.” 

He had been coming to you for pro bono work with increasing frequency, especially over the past month or so, but again, you didn’t wholly mind it. You went into this kind of work for a reason. Though, you were starting to get the feeling that a certain, brooding, less than lawfully abiding businessman did not feel the same. 

Kylo Ren dealt frequently with the shady, black market underbelly of capitalist society, but you were less accustomed to his world and not completely ready to throw yourself to the hounds just yet.

You had already missed more than a few meetings and canceled on dinner tonight to meet with Rosa. To be fair, it wasn’t as if he’d made any indication this ill-defined whatever-it-was going on between the two of you was anything serious. And you were only his consultant, for now, so this took precedent anyway. At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself of. Definitely not a way to avoid thinking about fucking your boss who also happened to be in with the mob. 

Definitely not.  

“I wouldn’t have agreed to help if I couldn’t manage it,” you yawned softly and stood to collect your things. 

It was late and you were beginning to fantasize about how soft and warm your sheets would be. If you got back in time you could pop them in the dryer and get in an episode or two before bed. 

“Hey, let me at least buy you dinner or something since I kept you out so late,” Evan parked his skinny frame in your path to the doorway. 

“You’re going to apologize for keeping me out late, by keeping me out even later?”

“Do you want free food or not?”

Pursing your lips, you stared at him for a few moments. He really did know all your weaknesses. You had skipped out on meeting with Mr. Ren—or Kylo or sir or whatever the hell you were supposed to call him now—already tonight, however, Evan was sure to take you somewhere nice and it wouldn’t be so morally repugnant if it was just as a ‘thank you….’

“Okay, fine,” you conceded and let him lead you out to the parking garage, locking the office up behind you. 

***

The next morning you stumbled past reception in a haze. Both from lack of sleep, and the bitingly cold winds battering your building despite the neighboring high rises blocking the brunt of the gale. The young woman at the desk informed you tersely that a Mr. Goodman was already waiting for you in your office and that you should really get here on time if you were expecting clients this early. 

You agreed that, yes you probably should but, you know, “trains and all that mess,” and tried not to judge her too harshly. After all, she was the barrier between you and the hundreds of calls this place received daily. 

Before slipping through the door with your name plate, you hung your coat on the rack and switched your phone on. It’d died on you last night amidst the allure of fancy, late night dinner and your sleep deprivation riddled brain had not cared enough to plug it in before bed. Fuck Amazon, but thank god for its speedy delivery of portable charges. 

You chewed your lip as the lock screen came to life. One missed call and a text. Both, of course from the most anxiety inducing sender, Kylo Ren. Because why would it be anyone else? His name menacing even typed out in standard black font. 

The text read:

Meet me at 8am.

It was very much like him—a command with punctuation and absolutely no details. The message receipt showed it was sent two hours ago, and it was already half past eight. Shit. Your fingers shook as you pulled up his contact and called. Every interaction left you coursing with adrenaline. Even now, miles away listening to the dial tone was nerve-wracking. Your heart pounded, hands slick in their grip on your phone. Maybe it was because you were never sure where you stood with him. Maybe it was because he was handsome and he knew it. Strong and he knew it. Intimidating and mysterious and closer in some ways to a Greek god than a man. He was all encompassing, and filled every available space in any room he occupied. 

Sometimes you thought you might choke on his presence. 

It rang once, twice, three times before cutting out completely. You stared down at the blank screen, biting your lip and shooting off a quick text. You were sorry, something important had come up, you would meet him the second it was convenient. 

Evan slapped you heartily on the back when you came into the room. He was holding a bouquet of flowers, evergreen with small white blossoms. 

“So, how many hours did you manage last night?” he asked, smiling his shit eating smile and seemingly unaffected despite the fact that he had to be running on just as little sleep as you.  

“I’m not even sure at this point,” you groaned as you tossed your bags down behind the little metal desk. “Time ceases to exist when you take trains past midnight.”

“Fair enough. Hey look,” Evan waved the greenery in your face, “courtesy of Rosa’s shop. She insisted I bring you something as thanks. I figured you could put them out in the front or something to brighten things up.” 

“They’re lovely. Please tell me you’re only here as a glorified delivery boy.”

His shoulders slumped at your lack of amusement, but before he could quip back the landline in your office rang. You answered, holding a finger towards Evan and leaning against the edge of the desk. It was the receptionist, Jess was her name? Maybe? You could never remember, someone else always addressed the holiday gift cards anyway. 

“There’s someone here to see you at the front desk,” she clipped, almost more exasperated than before. 

You told her you’d be right there and hung up. Evan grabbed his coat as you headed out, holding the door for you and following into the hall. 

“I’ll leave you to it if you’re busy, but give me a call after Monday and tell me how it goes,” he continued rambling as you came out into the front.

You had a smart comeback prepared, something about how simple the case was, he should have more faith in you, he was the reason you were busy in the first place, etc…but every word turned to ashes on your tongue when you saw him. 

Kylo Ren, standing right there at the desk and glaring at your receptionist. His suit was dark blue and ironed to perfection. Each leg was creased perfectly down the front and the jacket sat flawlessly on his wide set shoulders. He was a wall of unimaginably expensive fabric and what looked concerning like barely contained rage. You could see it in the twitch of his eye, the set of his jaw, and in the way his gaze landed on you the second you walked in. 

The way a predator immediately hones in on its prey. 

You froze just feet from him in the lobby, floundering like a fish on a hook. 

Evan, for his part, seemed not to notice the tension at all and continued to say his long winded goodbyes, placing the flowers in your hands and completely unaware of the slow, measured tightening of Kylo’s massive hands into fists at his side. 

“I’m free on Monday evening so we should—” 

“She’ll be busy.” 

Evan frowned, turning to face the man standing before him, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Kylo’s voice was a dark thing, low and rumbling, “She will be otherwise occupied.” 

His words were punctuated by a step towards you, one paw of a hand easily gripping your entire jaw. Lucky he did too, otherwise it would have dropped straight to the floor when he shot one last cobra strike glare in Evan’s direction, and pressed his mouth to yours. Right there. In the lobby. For everyone to see.  

The absolute bastard.

His lips were pillow plump and softer than the silk lining of his suit—and even through the surge of shock and embarrassment and more than a touch of anger—you felt your heart throb at the way he licked into your mouth. 

The flowers tumbled from your hands onto the floor as everything in you went limp under his touch. This was nowhere near the first time you’d tasted him, but it was like this every time. Like drinking ambrosia. An otherworldly experience. 

But that didn’t stop the sharp pain of his crushing grip on your arm, the way he nearly lifted your feet off the floor when he pulled away to drag along behind him. You could hear Evan spluttering in the hall behind you, the receptionist going back to clacking at her keyboard as if nothing had happened. 

When Kylo opened your office door he just about threw you inside. You tripped as he tipped you in, stumbling and catching yourself on the edge of your desk. The power behind his hand alone was undeniable. You shuddered at the thought of the array of purple fingerprints he would leave behind. It made your mouth dry and your heart sink. Confusing and delicious. 

And left you seething nonetheless. 

“What the fuck was that?!” you were not calm, so you didn’t attempt any semblance of it. 

“You didn’t answer me,” he said, level as he always was. 

The quiet before the storm and all that. 

“About the meeting? I tried to call, my phone died—”

“Because you were out catching trains at all hours of the night, I’m aware.” 

You paused, glaring at the wall of muscle between you and the door, “How did you know that?”

“So you’re not denying it?”

Kylo stalked towards you like a beast in his tailored suit and polished leather shoes like talons. You could hear your heartbeat, hear the blood rushing in your ears. Just like a rabbit in the sightline of a hawk, you were clearly being hunted. 

“Why would I deny something I’m not trying to hide?” your voice came out horse as he caged you between the desk and his chest, arms on either side to block any route of escape. 

“No you are certainly not adept at subtlety,” he said and you couldn’t take your eyes off the way his tongue moved behind his teeth. “This is the fifth time that idiot in the hall has distracted you from work.”

“That’s not an answer,” you tried to spit the words but his eyes were boring into you. The honey of them spilled down your spine and made you shiver. “How did you know? You are not entitled to any information pertaining to my personal life, regardless.” 

“Watch your mouth,” he growled. “Entitlement has no part in this.”

You were entering dangerous territory, though stopping curiously did not occur to you.

“I don’t think you have the right to be throwing out commands right now, not after that display.”

“Have you forgotten who you work for?” Kylo hissed at you, hands wrapped around the metal of your desk so hard you thought it might warp under his fingers. 

“Of course not,” you desperately tried to keep your voice down lest anyone get even more a spectacle. 

“Then what is this?” one hand left the desk and pulled a phone from inside his jacket. 

The screen lit up, and you looked in horror at pictures of yourself. Pictures of yourself from last night. Pictures of yourself from last night at dinner with Evan, interspersed with shots of you crossing the street, waiting on the train platform, and stumbling back into your apartment. Each was clearer than you’d expected, presumably from some insanely expensive surveillance equipment. You had been out for hours, and you had been watched the whole time. 

You narrowed your eyes, flicking back and forth between Kylo’s face—the graceful bridge of his nose pointed down at you—and gaped. 

“You had me followed…” you breathed the words into the slowly shrinking space between your bodies. 

He simply nodded, as if, somehow, you were foolish for not having considered this before. Perhaps you were. Perhaps you had no idea what you had gotten yourself into. Perhaps you had signed on for much more than a paycheck when you agreed to work for Kylo Ren. 

“I can’t have my employees getting distracted.”

Kylo slowly drifted ever closer, shoulders bent so he was eye level with you. He pressed further into the desk, pinning you between his body and the hard surface that bit into your ass. Something long and thick and hard nudged your thigh. 

“I don’t know why you though having me followed was necessary—” 

“You’re an arrogant little slut who needs to be reminded of your priorities,” his hand snatched your leg and wrenched it open so he could stand between them, “ I am not something you do on the side.” 

You could hear the way his teeth grit out the words, the way they formed as a growl deep in his beast’s throat. The hand still settled on the desk, skimmed up your hip and chest, his fingers 

biting into your jaw. 

“Do you understand me?”

Your lips were shut tight in a thin line, eyes wide and staring up like the prey you were. The silence only provoked him more. Snarling, two thick fingers wrenched your mouth open, pressing hard on your tongue and making you gag around them. 

“Answer.” 

Kylo Ren almost always spoke in commands. Having power did that to people, and rarely did it ever compel you, but his words sunk deep into your bones. Dredged up some dark, instinctual need to obey. To submit to this show of control. 

“Yes,” you mumbled around his fingers in your mouth, drool slipping past your lips when they moved. 

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

You watched him suck his teeth, grabbing your face tighter and dragging you close so he could spit directly into your open mouth. He slammed your jaw shut, nearly taking off the tip of your tongue and hissed into your ear. 

“Swallow.” 

Again, you did without a thought. And it was disgusting, but invigorating, sent off some spark in your stomach with how easily he bent your body to his will. There was no man like him, you decided. And maybe this was simply because Kylo Ren was not a man. That term alone would never do him justice. 

In one shockingly smooth motion, you found yourself flat on your back, ass hanging off the edge of the desk with his hands on your hips. He ground himself against you, the throbbing of his cock evident even through the layers of clothing. That feeling on its own had you soaked through, thighs sticking with liquid excitement. 

“Remember who you work for,” he growled into your neck, licking a long stripe up your throat and sucking at the exposed skin. 

But it was very clear to you what he really meant. 

Remember who you belong to. 

You slapped a hand over your mouth as he bit down on the skin just above your shoulder, laving his tongue over the stinging flesh. Kylo pulled back, frowning down at you and yanking the hand away from your face. One held both your wrists in a vice lock while the other ripped your panties straight down your legs and left the dripping fabric discarded on the carpet. 

“No, they’re going to hear you,” he grunted, and pulled one of your hands down, pressing it to your slit and running your fingers through your slick. “Go on, touch your fucking pussy and let them know what a little whore you are for me.” 

It was something about his voice. Something in the way it left him, its timbre, its wonder, unquestioning. You could never refuse him. 

So, with a small nod you parted your folds, head resting on a stack of files as you drew slow circles around your clit with a shaky hand. His eyes never left your cunt, tracing the movement of your finger and the trail of wetness that seeped from you to the desktop. Softly, you gasped as the familiar placement of your fingers made you clench and arch up. Kylo’s rubbed small circles into your inner thighs with his thumbs, kneading the flesh there. 

When the spark was there, the lovely pulsing in your nerves alight, you dipped down, teasing and slipping inside, grinding down as best you could on your hand. It wasn’t enough, but nothing ever was since you’d been ripped open on Kylo’s cock. 

Evidently he did not find your work sufficient either. 

Another finger joined yours, stroking your lips and circling your entrance. His touch made you whine, the promise of hands that were not your own never ceasing to illicit a new gush of pleasure. 

“I said,” he murmured, his touch so terribly feather light. “Let them hear you.” 

He was like a gunshot, sudden and forceful and almost instantly had you screaming. Kylo slammed his fingers into you, so full and so deep, curling hard against that lovely spot inside. 

“Kylo, god, please—” you moaned long and low, your face burning with the knowledge that the walls were barely thick enough to keep your phone calls private, much less the shameful noises he pulled from you. 

“What was that?” he panted, adding another finger and pumping them deep into your cunt. “You can do better.” 

Your teeth dug so hard into your lip you thought it might bleed, but you couldn’t take much more. The ledge was approaching—Kylo Ren knew it—and he was determined to push you straight into the fire. 

You choked when his deliciously thick fingers were ripped from you, walls fluttering around the awful emptiness. Your head lolled back as you listened to him work the buckle of his belt and slacks open, and when you did glance down your mouth watered at the sight. Kylo—impossibly long cock throbbing in his hand—stood between your legs, stroking himself from root to tip. You watched little pearls of precum bead at the head while his thumb swiped across to smear them along his length. 

“You are insane,” you hissed through gritted teeth. 

Did you need to keep this position? No, technically you would be more than well off on the salary Mr. Ren so graciously provided. However, you could not mentally deal with being terminated for getting dicked in your office during work hours. 

Kylo smirked, the edge of his perfect cupid’s bow cocked back and aimed straight at your chest. Without warning, he sunk into you, straight to the hilt and threw his head back as you sobbed with the sharp sting of being split in two on his cock. 

“This is what you do,” he growled into your ear, hands on either side of your head as he worked his length back out only to pound into you again. “You work for me and you take my cock and don’t ever fucking forget that.”  

Your legs were wound so tightly around his waist that had he been any other man, his ribs would have cracked under the pressure. His hair, falling in black, satin waves, was gorgeous even in the sterile office lighting. You threaded your fingers into it at the roots and held him while your body rocked against the desk. It’s metal surface pinched at your sink and made your back ache, though that was nothing compared to the burn of Kylo’s thrusts, sliding against your walls. You felt him in your throat. You always did. That was simply the way things were with him. He filled you painfully, thoroughly, took over all of your senses until it was just him. 

And, strangely, it was the most alive you’d ever felt. 

He was unlike anyone you’d ever known.

You couldn’t scream for him, but you could still let him taste the desperation, the willingness in your body to mold against him. So you kissed him, dragged him by the hair to meet your lips and licked past his teeth, gasping and moaning on his tongue as you sucked it hard and cried into his mouth. 

And he drank you down, picking up a punishing rhythm and breaking blood vessels where his hands gripped your hips. One drifted lower, thumb pressing down hard on your clit as your cunt clenched around his length. The desk was lifting off the ground with every thrust, the room filled with the wet sounds of your bodies and you were quickly melting under him. 

Warmth was spreading, growing, building out from your pussy, igniting in your veins. He was right. This is what you did. This is what he did to you. This toe curling, lip biting, bone shattering kind of pleasure. 

Oh you were so royally fucked. 

“I—oh shit—Kylo I’m,” you pulled back just enough to pant out a warning before the wave took you. 

So hot, it washed over your skin and made your legs shake and your hands leave his hair to dig your nails into his chest through the crisp white button down he wore. 

“Feel that?” he grunted as you convulsed and shuddered under him, “Feel how this pussy was made for me.” 

You nodded, buried your face in his neck and held on as he worked you through your climax and straight into his own. Once, twice he ground his cock deep in you, feeling how tight you were around him until he was spent and spilling hot, thick ropes of cum that coated your walls and dripped out around his length. 

He panted, lazily rolling his hips, fucking you slowly until finally, he came to a halt with his softening cock still sheathed inside you. Seconds past, or maybe hours, you couldn’t tell. Kylo tended to have that effect on you. Time slipped away so easily in his presence, like there was never enough of it. 

When he did pull away, you stayed with your back firmly planted amidst the mess of scattered paperwork and manila envelopes. He rose to his full, towering height and tucked himself away, straightening the wrinkles in his suit and eyeing you only once from the side. You admired his profile, you never understood until now what the meaning of the word “regal” truly was. 

Under the dictionary definition, his picture surely would be there, staring at you down the bridge of his marble carved nose. 

You sat up on your elbows as he stalked towards the door. 

“Was that all you came for?”

Kylo paused, broad back still facing you and leaving the room feeling irrevocably empty with just the intention of his absence. 

“We’ll reschedule for five tonight,” he said, filling the door frame completely. “Don’t be late.” 

The door clicked shut behind him and the sound of it made you collapse back onto the desktop. You laid there for a moment, leaking your combined spend and aching. The throb of him settled in your muscles and festered. But the worst part was the other ache, the pain of being without. And maybe you had been a bit avoidant. Maybe this work really was so you didn’t have to see him. Because if you saw him you’d end up fucking him—which was fine, which was good, which was great actually—but then he would leave. And you couldn’t decide which wanting was worse. The wanting before or the wanting after. 

Maybe it didn’t matter. 

You had more important things to think about anyway. Like securing the receptionist an incredibly large holiday bonus, assuming you still had a job here at the end of the day. 

Maybe that didn’t matter either. 

It might be high time you made a commitment to whatever the hell kind of mess you’d stumbled into. Kylo Ren was an enigma in the best kind of way. Maybe you should stop running from it. 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fire and Light (ao3) - on tumblr: part 1, part 2

- Chapter 3 -

Nie Huaisang and Wen Chao had starting fighting, and Nie Mingjue didn’t know why or how to stop it.

Neither of them were exceptional cultivators, although Wen Chao was more average to Nie Huaisang’s waste, and so their fights tended towards the simply physical, things thrown and words shouted and a great deal of shoving.

“I thought you two were getting along,” Nie Mingjue said helplessly to Nie Huaisang after one of their blow-ups.

“Why should I get along with him?” Nie Huaisang hissed, his eyes red – with tears, luckily, not anything else. Nie Mingjue dabbed at the corner of his eye with his sleeve, pleased to see there weren’t any injuries. “He’s mean and petty and stupid, and anyway his dad killed ours.”

“That has nothing to do with A-Chao,” Nie Mingjue pointed out, like he didn’t wake screaming at least two nights each week just thinking about how he was betraying his father’s memory by being a good and obedient son for Wen Ruohan just as he had tried to be for his father. “He’s too young to have any input into his father’s plans, Huaisang, you know that.”

As if Wen Ruohan would take advice from anyone else, ever, no matter what their age.

“I’m trying to be nice!” Nie Huaisang defended himself, looking mutinous. “He’s the one starting all the fights, saying mean things and losing his temper over nothing. I don’t know what’s gotten into him!”

“I’ll talk to him,” Nie Mingjue promised. “I don’t know if it’ll help, but I will. Why don’t you go play with A-Ning instead?”

Nie Huaisang nodded, but looked up at Nie Mingjue instead of scampering off. “Da-ge,” he said, “why do you call them like that, so affectionately?”

“Because they don’t have courtesy names, the poor things,” Nie Mingjue said, and his brother grinned as if he’d won something. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason!” Nie Huaisang sang, good humor abruptly restored in the way that children had, and then he was gone, shouting Wen Ning’s name in a tone so demanding that one would think he really was a young master of the Nightless City rather than a glorified prisoner.

Nie Mingjue went to find Wen Chao, who was sitting by a window in one or another of the endlessly identical rooms in the endlessly identical hallways that he was almost starting to be able to remember. Wen Chao, when found, looked especially mulish. “A-Chao?”

“Are you here to yell at me for fighting with your brother?” Wen Chao demanded, not looking at him.

“No,” Nie Mingjue said. “I’m here to ask if you’re all right.”

He could think of dozens of reasons why he wouldn’t be, and every single one of them started with Wen Ruohan, whether directly or indirectly. If they had all been adults, it would have been easy to hate them blindly for all their many faults, but Nie Mingjue had always had a soft spot for children.

Wen Chao turned to look at him, and his eyes were red with tears, too; he looked so much like Nie Huaisang for a moment that it stabbed right into Nie Mingjue’s heart. “I fell,” he suddenly said, even though Nie Mingjue hadn’t seen any such thing happen during the fight earlier. “It hurt.”

Nie Mingjue was going to ask what had happened and why (and when) he had fallen, and also what that had to do with his fight with Nie Huaisang, but before he could speak, Wen Chao shoved his hand up at him just the way Nie Huaisang always did. His wrist was unmarred, although one part was a little red, as if fingers had been dug into it.

There wasn’t actually a request being made, but Nie Mingjue responded on instinct, pulling Wen Chao into his arms – gently, in the event that the boy wanted to wiggle free – and pressing his lips to the ‘wound’, a spark of spiritual energy dancing between them. It did nothing but feel nice for a split second, if that, but Wen Chao’s eyes were wide and watery as if he’d just performed a miracle.

“Do you feel better?” Nie Mingjue asked, and Wen Chao nodded mutely. He was clinging onto Nie Mingjue’s arms as if he thought he was going to get thrown out of them and didn’t quite want to be. “You know that you don’t need to be hurt to get a hug, right?”

Wen Chao stared at him blankly, and Nie Mingjue wondered if he’d guessed wrongly.

“You don’t have to get hugged if you don’t want to, either, of course,” he said quickly. “I just meant, you know, if you do, you can just ask. I won’t say no.”

Wen Chao burst into tears.

Nie Mingjue had no idea what he’d said wrong. Again.

Maybe he wasn’t as good at this comforting business as he thought he was.

-

Word must have spread, somehow, because Wen Ning was the next one to demand a hug – well, he sidled up to Nie Mingjue and stared at him for enough time to eat a meal before Nie Mingjue broke and asked what he’d wanted, at which point he’d thrown himself into Nie Mingjue’s arms like a big spoiled cat, but it was about the same.

That wasn’t really a surprise, given how affectionate Wen Ning generally was and how hungry he was for comfort and validation, but it was a little bit of a surprise when Wen Qing, who was independent and headstrong, abruptly began to do the same thing, albeit with slightly more grace.

Not that Nie Mingjue refused, of course, even though etiquette said that unrelated men and women shouldn’t make contact – Wen Qing was only ten, a little girl playacting as a grown woman. Besides, with the death of Wen Ruohan’s last wife a few years back, there weren’t any women in the Nightless City well-born enough to dare touch her, so it was clearly him or nobody.

After that, Wen Chao, clearly not wanting to be outdone, began demanding hugs on a regular basis, growling self-absorbed demands in his kittenish little voice that wouldn’t be cute at all if he was ten years older but which was currently hilarious. He seemed almost to be testing the boundaries of the permission he’d been given, asking for hugs right after he did something wrong or said something especially mean, and if Nie Mingjue’s father hadn’t so strongly inculcated in Nie Mingjue the belief that affection was not something that should ever be traded, Nie Mingjue might have considered withholding them to try to teach him a lesson. As it was, he mostly scolded him, trying to make clear the consequences of his actions.

“If you’re disappointed in me, why do you still give me a hug when I ask for one?” Wen Chao asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion, as if he thought Nie Mingjue was up to something – because everyone was up to something in the Nightless City, always. It was exhausting.

“Because it’s two separate things,” Nie Mingjue said, not for the first time. He felt a little helpless, repeating it over and over and yet not appearing to make even the slightest dent in Wen Chao’s understanding. “Being angry at you doesn’t mean I don’t care about you; caring about you doesn’t mean I can’t be disappointed in you. I’m not going to stop caring about you, but I’m also going to be sad and angry and upset about what you’ve done. Just because I’ll always give you a hug doesn’t mean I condone your behavior.”

Wen Chao snorted, sounding suspicious – but also not pulling away from the hug – and from the corner of the room they were in Nie Huaisang heaved a great big sigh. “I’ll explain it to him, da-ge,” he offered, like he wasn’t the youngest of the whole lot of them. “It’s not that hard, but Wen Chao can’t help being slow, I guess.”

Wen Chao made a face at him, but their interaction lacked the heat of their fights from before. Nie Mingjue still didn’t know what had caused their fights, but he supposed that they must have made up sometime when he wasn’t looking.

-

Wen Ruohan asked Wen Xu another question, his fourth in a row. It was beyond uncomfortable to watch, especially since the Sect Leader had swept in to the dining room already in a bad mood, ready to take it out on them, and for some reason he’d fixated on Wen Xu today. His heir, who he never seemed to devote much time to, but expected perfection from regardless.

Wen Xu was sweating, his posture stiff and his brows pulled together from the strain of trying to recall. The subject matter of the question was unexpected – a specific sequence of hand signs to form tripartite arrays, very complex – and he started to slow down towards the end, his words tripping over each other.

When he reached the penultimate one, he paused, his eyes flickering all over the place as his tongue struggled for words, his brain very obviously blanking out on him.

Nie Mingjue kicked him under the table, striking him precisely in the left shin in the meridian next to the knee, and Wen Xu’s eyes went wide, the correct answer blurting out of his mouth before he’d entirely recovered himself, and once he had that out he was able to finish the sequence without error.

“If I wanted Nie Mingjue to answer my question, I would have asked him,” Wen Ruohan said, his voice sharp and cold as shards of ice, and Wen Xu flinched as if he’d been struck.

“Did I answer it?” Nie Mingjue wondered aloud. “Good for me. Here I thought I was just trying to sabotage him.”

Wen Ruohan, who had been about to pronounced punishment, turned his head to stare at Nie Mingjue, as if disbelieving that he would, once again, dare to be so insolent.

Or perhaps the surprise was only on whose behalf he had interrupted.

“I thought tripping someone else up was how things got done in Qishan?” Nie Mingjue asked, and to his amusement he observed a moment of contemplation on all the Wen faces, even Wen Ruohan’s – and even also his brother’s – wondering if he’d just gotten confused again before realizing that he was just being sarcastic. “No? Forgive me, I’m still new. I’ll be sure to reread the founder’s sayings again. I’m sure he had something to say about that.”

He got another ten lashes of the whip for that, and another five for interrupting, but Wen Qing’s hand at bandaging was much steadier this time, while Nie Huaisang and Wen Ning teamed up to make him three dishes of medicinal cuisine apiece that they insisted he consume, so it really wasn’t as bad as all that. Wen Xu and Wen Chao tried to both hover at the door to see if he was all right while also trying to avoid him out of some bizarre sort of misplaced guilt, so he threatened to haul them into the room using the excess amount of noodles as rope until they stopped being stupid and came to help him finish the medicinal meal that was far too large even for his prodigious appetite.

“You didn’t have to do that for me, you righteous idiot,” Wen Xu said, poking at a piece of chicken in his soup as if it held the answers to life’s mysteries. “Either the hint or the distraction.”

“Are you saying I’m too righteous to cheat on tests?” Nie Mingjue asked, pretending to be offended. “I don’t think you know what righteous means. It definitely allows for cheating in times of need.”

That effectively derailed the subject, because they all had very strong and conflicting feelings on what righteousness did or did not allow, and he was grateful when they didn’t return to the subject again later.

He didn’t know how to explain to Wen Xu that he didn’t think before doing things like that, that it seemed obvious to him that they were all in this together against Wen Ruohan, for all that the man was father to Wen Xu and Wen Chao and thus theoretically deserving of their filial piety. He didn’t know how to tell Wen Xu – or Wen Chao, for that matter – that being afraid of your father wasn’t how most people did things, that most people didn’t have to worry about their fathers one day deciding to take them down to his Fire Palace, that mysterious and terrifying lair of screams, and never letting them back out again.

Even after all these months, Nie Mingjue still didn’t understand how people lived in Qishan, in the Nightless City, all of them always second-guessing themselves and looking for traps, thinking everything, good or bad, was a hidden knife about to be stabbed into their back. A place where brother was deliberately turned against brother and child against child, a place where being smart and loyal and righteous wasn’t good enough for anything other than sacrificing yourself for the sake of others, and being laughed at as an idiot for doing so.

He didn’t think he ever would.

[strawberry1212]

Kdrama Sexist/Toxic Male Lead Tropes

(originally made this post as part of another post about Run On but it got to be so long I just thought I’d made this list it’s own post)

-Possessive and easily jealous, and this is often played off as romantic. For a large portion of kdrama watchers who are younger, and for the majority of us who aren’t chased all the time by hot men, this toxic trait can easily be sold to us as an exciting and flattering trait. But this is in fact not respectful of the female lead’s autonomy. I enjoy the little humorous jealousy moments, (I am reminded of Crash Landing on You) but too often this leads to the classic “two male leads each grab the innocently wide eyed female lead and glare at each other” trope. Women are not ropes to play tug of war with! If jealousy over the instances like the girl simply having a conversation with another guy rupture into real problems in the relationship it is not romantic, but possessiveness is often mistakenly portrayed as an expression of love, when really possessiveness is just that: possessiveness over an object.

-Uses violence to solve problems. This is another thing that can be easily seen as flattering--someone is willing to go to great lengths to protect you/defend your honor/whatever the reason is for the male lead to use violence. This trope was deconstructed in the American movie 500 Days of Summer, where the male lead punches a guy “to defend the honor” of the female lead, but she when she is upset and embarrassed at the situation, he gets angry at her for not being excited over his violent sacrifice.

-The typical “tsundere” narrative of abusive language, but paired with romantic gestures, usually the Grand Romantic Gesture trope. I see this all the time, where the guy berates the girl, sometimes to point of just full on bullying, but then he throws his jacket at her when she’s cold, holds the umbrella over her while he gets wet, etc., In other words he may be verbally abusive but it doesn’t matter because he Truly Loves her. And that she should accept that and understand that about him and not expect him to be polite and respectful.

-He treats everyone but the female lead like trash. Well...he often treats the female lead like trash at first too, but this quality is also marketed as flattering. He treats everyone badly but you’re different! In reality this is super toxic. In fact, it is essential that a person treats *everyone* with decency if they are to meet the baseline requirements of being a person capable of giving and receiving love in a healthy relationship.

-He chases her one sidedly. Oftentimes he chases her even when she rejects him, which shows that dominating, male persistence is a behavior to be rewarded. Again, this is a fantasy easily marketable when many of us aren’t chased around by hot men. It is flattering for a person to be so interested in us that they are incredibly persistent, but this fantasy had very unhealthy, and even harmful real life connotations. There is a very important line between friendliness/respectful attention/flirting, and creepy and domineering. I think it is also equally important to note that in this toxic trope, it is important to teach both men and women that no means no and yes means yes. Not that you can’t have playful/teasing banter, but playing hard to get when you really want to be gotten, is an unhealthy coping mechanism for cowardice in relationships.

I think for this one as with other tropes on this list, it appeals to our childish, insecure, and relationship-immature side of ourselves that would rather have everything fall into place than be honest, vulnerable, and have agency in our romantic interactions. What I mean is, the fantasy of a hot male lead persistently pursuing us after a destiny meet cute is a fantasy where we don’t ever have to put ourselves out there. Where don’t have to consciously try to meet new people, express interest in others, set boundaries, i.e. do the hard work of negotiating our place within other people’s lives.

The hallmark of a bad drama for me is when the give and take between the male and female lead is: the female lead has to put up with the meanness and constant mistakes of the male lead as he hurts her (usually in tangent with the Noble Idiocy trope, where he breaks up with her and steps all over her “for her own good” for some bs reason), but in return she gets the Grand Romantic Gesture, and the male lead does most of the chasing. In a healthy relationship, there aren’t constant hurtful arguments, and both do an equal share of the “chasing,” or a better term would be meeting each other halfway in expressing interest in the other.

-Power imbalance. It really disturbs me how Kdramas fetishize power imbalances between male and female characters to create the helpless/incompetent/somehow indebted but also plucky/cheerful/abuse-taking female lead. This can manifest itself very overtly in the many Kdramas between CEOs and secretaries, which I still cannot believe are popular in 2021. Secretary Kim did a better spin on the usual trope--the secretary holds the power of being very good at her job, and therefore indispensable and respected in her own right, but it remains a mystery to me why these super narcissistic and childish CEOs are played off as “adorable manchilds” that always need a little soothing of their ego. But to return to the power imbalance, besides obvious power imbalances of wealth/power/etc., oftentimes the guy has supernatural powers, or by nature of his job has abilities that render him the “protector” in the relationship (My love from another star, descendants of the sun), or the girl is infantilized in some way to need to protection from the male lead (legend of the blue sea, she is a mermaid and therefore dependent on the male lead for guidance in the human world, bring it on ghost as well). I think these latter power imbalances are constructed into the setting of the story because more overt forms of power imbalances are frowned upon now, but they serve the same patriarchal purpose. 

This power imbalance inevitably leads to the female lead putting up with some abuse from the male lead because she “needs” him for some other end, and him holding his power over as a way to keep her close. It fits very well into the enemies to lovers trope in this way, especially some contractual enemies to lovers, where due to the power imbalance he is able to exploit/use her in some way, and keeps her close, and she hates him but has to put up with it for her own survival in some way, but they slowly fall in love. It’s super toxic and not at all romantic because they didn’t choose each other at all, they just were pushed together by circumstance, but again it buys into our fantasy of falling in love due to circumstance, rather than our own agency.

-Overly protective (OP) vs respectfully supportive. (RS) Essentially I can divide Kdramas into these two categories, OP and RS. OP romances can commonly be found in love triangles (where jealousy flourishes) and high school romances (where characters usually have less of a personality lol), and RS relationships are more common in working adult romances, where each character is pursuing their career/dreams and they support each other in those dreams. OP relationships infantilize the female character, render her as just an object in need of saving, and power dynamic between the leads is usually he constantly needs to save her, and in return she “softens”/“heals” him which, under deeper analysis, reveals itself to be quite an insidious and harmful stereotype, the kind of psychology that keeps women in domestic violence relationships. RS relationships are also better in that the leads have something going on outside of their romance, and are motivated beyond just ending up together. My favorite of RS relationships are Miss Hammurabi (two judges that work together to confront injustices in the judicial system), Run On (two leads from v different career fields, but they take interest and support each other throughout career ups and downs), and Hello My Twenties (probably my favorite example of an RS male lead--Sungmin supports Song as she uncovers her past traumas and stands up to an abuser, but does so following her lead and not doing her work for her, but rather simply staying by her side supportively).

Conclusion

This is not all the toxicity in the kdrama world--this is just what I can come up with off the top of my head as my least favorite tropes that disempower women and glorify toxic men and toxic relationships. And of course this is not a problem unique to Korea, and is by no means a condemnation of Korean culture, etc., but I simply happen to enjoy the aesthetics and innocence (compared to American shows haha) of Kdramas, so that is the entertainment world I am familiar with, and feel able to comment on.

[dwellordream]

“...We can dispense with the first question fairly quickly: is violence the supreme authority from which all other authority derives in actual societies? After all, we keep encountering historical models predicated on that premise and they keep being pretty bad, inaccurate history. But even shifting from those specific examples to a more general appraisal, the answer is pretty clearly no. Reading almost any social history of actual historical societies reveal complex webs of authority, some of which rely on violence and most of which don’t. Trying to reduce all forms of authority in a society to violence or the threat of violence is a ‘boy’s sociology,’ unfit for serious adults.

This is true even in historical societies that glorified war! Taking, for instance, medieval mounted warrior-aristocrats (read: knights), we find a far more complex set of values and social bonds. Military excellence was a key value among the medieval knightly aristocracy, but so was Christian religious belief and observance, so were expectations about courtly conduct, and so were bonds between family and oath-bound aristocrats. In short there were many forms of authority beyond violence even among military aristocrats. Consequently individuals could be – and often were! – lionized for exceptional success in these other domains, often even when their military performance was at best lackluster.

Roman political speech, meanwhile, is full of words to express authority without violence. Most obviously is the word auctoritas, from which we get authority. J.E. Lendon (in Empire of Honor: The Art of Government in the Roman World (1997)), expresses the complex interaction whereby the past performance of virtus (‘strength, worth, bravery, excellence, skill, capacity,’ which might be military, but it might also by virtus demonstrated in civilian fields like speaking, writing, court-room excellence, etc) produced honor which in turn invested an individual with dignitas (‘worth, merit’), a legitimate claim to certain forms of deferential behavior from others (including peers; two individuals both with dignitas might owe mutual deference to each other).

Such an individual, when acting or especially speaking was said to have gravitas (‘weight’), an effort by the Romans to describe the feeling of emotional pressure that the dignitas of such a person demanded; a person speaking who had dignitas must be listened to seriously and respected, even if disagreed with in the end. An individual with tremendous honor might be described as having a super-charged dignitas such that not merely was some polite but serious deference, but active compliance, such was the force of their considerable honor; this was called auctoritas. As documented by Carlin Barton (in Roman Honor: Fire in the Bones (2001)), the Romans felt these weights keenly and have a robust language describing the emotional impact such feelings had.

Note that there is no necessary violence here. These things cannot be enforced through violence, they are emotional responses that the Romans report having (because their culture has conditioned them to have them) in the presence of individuals with dignitas. And such dignitas might also not be connected to violence. Cicero clearly at points in his career commanded such deference and he was at best an indifferent soldier. Instead, it was his excellence in speaking and his clear service to the Republic that commanded such respect. Other individuals might command particular auctoritas because of their role as priests, their reputation for piety or wisdom, or their history of service to the community. And of course beyond that were bonds of family, religion, social group, and so on.

...So while it is true that the state derives its power from violence (as in Mao’s famous quip that “Political power grows out of the barrel of a gun”), the state is not the only center of authority within a society. And indeed, even the state cannot run entirely on violence; this is the point that Hannah Arendt makes in the famous dichotomy of violence and power. In many cases, what Heinlein’s premise does is mistake violence for power, assuming that the ability to violently compel action is the same as the power to coordinate or encourage action without violence. But in fact, successful organizations (including, but not limited to, states) are possessed not of lots of violence but of lots of power, with much of that power rooted in norms, social assumptions, unstated social contracts and personal relationships that exist entirely outside of the realm of violence.

And so in both theory and practice, Heinlein’s premise fails to actually describe human societies of any complexity. There are no doubt gangs and robber-bands that have functioned entirely according to Heinlein’s premise (and presumably some very committed anarchists who might want such a society), but the very march of complex social institutions suggests that such organizations were quite routinely out-competed by societies with complex centers of authority that existed beyond violence, which enabled specialization (notably something Heinlein disapproves of generally, ‘specialization is for insects’) and thus superior performance both in war and in peace. Kings and empires that try to rule purely with force, without any attention paid to legitimacy or other forms of power (instead of violence) fail, and typically fail rapidly. As with almost any simple statement about complex societies, Heinlein’s premise is not merely simple but simplistic and so fails.

...The Cult of the Badass, as expressed here, lives in what we might call the “cult of tradition,” “dreaming of a revelation received at the dawn of human history” about a certain set of warrior values which were both expressed by famous historical warriors and which now provide a blueprint for life. This point of explicit in Pressfield’s set of videos, and implicit in the Fremen Mirage’s strong men/hard times model of history. This “cult of tradition” is quite selective, of course; Pressfield makes functionally no effort to engage with actual ancient value systems in a sustained way, limiting himself mostly to ‘badass’ aphorisms from Plutarch (himself hardly the most intellectually sophisticated or morally challenging author in the classical canon). It is tradition as imagined dimly in the present, not tradition as uncovered by careful historical research.

Consequently, the cult of the badass must engage in “the rejection of modernism;” this is no accident because the cult of the badass is an “appeal to a frustrated […] class” – this too is explicit in that Pressfield frames his ideology was a way for individuals who are held back or stagnated to unleash their true potential and overcome their limits, through the explicit rejection of modern values and the embrace of what are at least presented as traditional, even timeless values. That sort of appeal is also explicit in a lot of the fitness marketing that trades on the cult of the badass (and it seems notable that Pressfield himself lists “anybody that is heavily into fitness” first among his people living out the ‘warrior archetype.’), calling on people to work out like the Spartans. Consequently, it is a “cult of action for action’s sake” often focused on doing rather than asking what should be done (it is striking that Pressfield, despite nearly all of his video examples coming from the Greek and Roman world, engages not at all with the extensive Greek and Roman philosophies of justice).

Instead, this ideology, because it positions the capacity for violence as the highest human value, presents the thesis that “life is lived for struggle.” Pressfield reframes all of life’s struggles, including struggles of motivation and self-discipline, in terms of violence, in terms of a war against the ‘inner enemy,’ and consequently “life is permanent warfare.” And I think this goes a long way to explaining the obsession of this philosophy on warrior elites, because there is an inherent element of “popular elitism” in the cult of the badass, an insistence that at least it should be the case that “everybody is educated to become a hero” and thus not only develop the capacity for violence but also orient themselves towards “heroic death, advertised as the best reward for a heroic life.”

Thus the outsized influence of Thermopylae, a ‘heroic’ Greek defeat over other battles; Pressfield, again, is explicit on this point that it is at Thermopylae in particular that the Spartan warrior ethic is best and most perfectly displayed. If these are held to be the highest ideals, then anyone who falls short of them or refuses to engage with them must be weak, perhaps even “so weak as to need and deserve a ruler” (a point that often emerges in the sheep/wolves/sheepdog metaphor used by many ‘warrior cops,’ an ideology Pressfield explicitly appeals to, lumping in law enforcement as exemplars of ‘warrior’ ideology).

And of course, as is I think obvious in these readings, there is an undercurrent of anxiety about masculinity here. It is, after all, strong men in the strong men/hard times trope (and that is no accident as the trope is deeply connected to concerns about masculinity throughout its history). ...While Pressfield insists in some of his videos that his life philosophy is equally applicable to men or women, it is hard not to notice that his historical examples of warriors are all men (no Molly Pitcher, no Deborah, no Hua Mulan, etc. Not even Empress “Imperial Purple is the best burial shroud” Theodora; he does discuss the legend of the Amazons with rather less historical rigor than I might like). Where actual historical women fit in to his narrative, it is mostly as the mothers and nurturers of warrior men. While Pressfield does his best to paper over this (and to be fair, I think he is sincere in trying to present his ideology as non-gender-specific, unaware of the ways in which the broader framework of that ideology is aggressively unwelcoming to women), I think it is fair to say this is an ideology created largely by and for men, which values a hypermasculine ideal – we might even say “machismo.”

And by now readers are beginning to wonder where all of these little quotations are coming from (apart from the bit from Theodora). But first I want to note that we have a name for an ideology that fits these main points – where “life is permanent warfare,” “lived for struggle”, such that “everyone is educated to become a hero” to participate in a “cult of action for action’s sake” in a “cult of tradition” seated in a “rejection of modernism.”

And it’s fascism. Because all of those little quotes are from Umberto Eco’s famous essay “Ur-Fascism” (1995) which presented one of the most compelling classifications of the foundational DNA that all of the various, disparate forms of fascism share in common. ...Now I think it is important to back up here and be fair to Steven Pressfield. I don’t think Steven Pressfield is a fascist; ...What I do think is that the ideology that Pressfield is advancing has fascist tendencies (that he is, I suspect, unaware of, having not interrogated the nature of Spartan society as carefully as he might have). The ideology he is advancing shares most of the DNA of Ur-Fascism and it is not hard to see how the remaining handful of elements might easily be bolted on to this framework.

It is also, in a way that Pressfield never really addresses (and I suspect has never really realized), an ideology which is fundamentally at odds with the democratic values he also holds. If only some people are ‘warriors’ and developing that warrior capacity towards violence it the primary or principle virtue, it follows – and literally any Spartan could have and would have told Pressfield this – that everyone else is merely fit to be ruled. Sparta’s brutal oppression was not incidental to its ideology or social structure (as we’ve discussed!) but essential to it. As Eco points out (in his 10th point), it does no good to suggest that everyone ought to be equally a warrior; this is after all a cult of violence for its own sake and in violence there must be winners and losers. No complex society is composed only of warriors; for there to be kings and knights, there must be serfs too.

...Put more bluntly, the ideology of the Cult of the Badass is so easily falsifiable that the act of disagreement itself, rather than the content of arguments, must be rejected). The rejection of disagreement in turn demands the fear of difference because the ideology requires consensus and an absence of criticism. And once the ideology fails – and it will, because it is disconnected from the real world – conspiratorialism is the natural response for true believers unwilling to reject the ideology. If your ideology tells you that you are superior, and yet you do not produce superior results, what recourse is there but to conspiracy? As Eco memorably quips, “Fascist governments are condemned to lose wars because they are constitutionally incapable of objectively evaluating the force of the enemy” which is also, by the by, why so many authoritarian armies, theoretically filled with supposedly highly motivated, ultra-badass super-soldiers, tend nevertheless to lose more than they win. We saw this with Sparta; the very ideology of the place made them bad strategists, in precisely the ways that Eco suggests it would.

In short, the ideology of the Cult of the Badass – which is easy to see in any number of modern films, books and TV (and occasionally read into films that explicitly reject it by their viewers; I suspect everyone of at least a certain age has known that guy who watched Fight Club and then wanted, entirely unironically, to start his own fight club) – is a gateway to authoritarian thinking which, contrary to the name, is based in violence rather than authority. The supremacy of action, of violence, of the warrior and his ‘ancient’ (but actually quite modern) values are the foundation stones on which fascist ideologies (and I’d argue, other non-fascist authoritarianisms, but that’s a debate for another day) are constructed.

And, as Eco notes, “The Ur-Fascist hero craves heroic death, advertised as the best reward for a heroic life. The Ur-Fascist hero is impatient to die. In his impatience, he more frequently sends other people to death.” This is not a good ideology. As I noted in the first post in this series, a free society has no need for warriors. Not among its soldiers, not among its police, not among its civilians. At times, a free people may need to become soldiers, or police officers, but always to return to being civilians again, either at the end of the day or at the end of the war.”

- Bret Devereaux, “The Universal Warrior, Part III: The Cult of the Badass.”

[astoldbygingersnaps]

#wip wednesday

since the latest chapter of star trek au continues to elude me (i swear to GOD i’ve been working on it; it’s about 2/3 of the way done and should hopefully be posted in a few weeks), i figured i’d go ahead and post a snippet of one my next projects, a fic i very briefly mentioned in my end of the year wrap-up post: the jurassic world au. 

this is an idea i’ve always wanted to work on as a) a HUGE fan of the jurassic park franchise and b) a person who spent years as a dog trainer who was both puzzled and horrified by the raptor training in that movie. while this will probably be The Most Niche Fic of all my Very Niche Fics, i’m super happy with it so far and hope other people will be, too. 

currently this project is sitting at about 18k and i’d like to have it completed, edited, and posted within the next few months. until then, enjoy this preview!

Itachi has never been the kind of person that believes in fate. As a boy his father had drilled the importance of hard work into his head, and it had been a lesson Itachi had carried with him long after he realized the man’s guidance wasn’t actually worth all that much. It wasn’t luck or good fortune that had led to Itachi many successes in life. Truthfully, fate had always seemed like a childish concept to him, an excuse for people to hang their hats on when things went wrong in their lives and they weren’t willing to take responsibility for their own actions. 

That said, it’s hard for Itachi not to feel some sort of cosmic influence is manipulating his course in life when one day Uchiha Fugaku summons his eldest son into his office at the heart of Isla Nublar. Given his position as the puppetmaster of InGen, it isn’t often that his father actually finds himself on the humid and sandy shores of Jurassic World. But every time he does Itachi feels a familiar, childish pull of anxiety, a little voice in his head that drives himself to push himself to succeed, to please. It’s as if the last four years Itachi has spent almost single-handedly managing this glorified amusement park suddenly vanish in a puff as he meets his father’s judgemental black gaze. 

“Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me,” Fugaku tells him, waving a hand to silently order Itachi to sit. And, as always, Itachi obeys his father’s commands. 

“It’s no trouble, Father,” Itachi assures him as he settles into the immaculate white leather chair that no doubt costs half of his yearly salary. “Was there something you needed?”

“Yes and no,” Fugaku replies, which is fittingly ominous for the man. “I wanted to discuss a recent change that Hiruzen is implementing to the park.” 

It takes an extraordinary amount of restraint on Itachi’s part to keep his comments regarding the CEO of Jurassic World and the sheer effort he spends weekly cleaning up the man’s air-headed messes to himself. For all the years he’s lived on the island--first as a boy while his father built his career, then as an intern after college, and finally as yet another cog in the Jurassic World machine--he’s regarded Sarutobi Hiruzen with an almost bleak sort of awe. It was shocking to Itachi that a man would possess such power and wealth, yet seem almost clueless when it came to maintaining that empire. Then again, he thinks dryly, perhaps all rich and influential men were nothing more than fools in the end.

Unaware of Itachi’s thoughts on the matter, Fugaku continues, “As I’m sure you’re aware, the board has been planning for sometime now to come up with a new attraction to boost both ticket and merchandise sales.” Of course Itachi is aware of it; it had been his idea in the first place. But, like most of his suggestions regarding Jurassic World, it had been thoroughly steamrolled until a man with more money and respect to his name could repackage it as his own brilliant, brand new invention. Which, as it were, is exactly what Hiruzen is planning to do. “The project has been in the works for a while now, but it’s going to be quite controversial. We thought it best to keep it under wraps until we were certain it was viable.”

“I take it you’re certain now?” Itachi asks, and Fugaku nods.

“We’ve had great success with the assets we’ve created so far, but as long as this park has been in construction there’s been one species that we’ve been unable to successfully replicate. Unfortunately, it’s also the one species that every dim-witted tourist that sets foot on this island is looking for.”

A chill works its way down Itachi’s spine as he guesses, “Velociraptors.” 

It’s an idea that’s almost too macabre to even contemplate, let alone execute. For better or worse, the general public’s more than aware of the chaos and bloodshed that led to the destruction of the first park. It’s a shroud that lingers over Itachi’s everyday life, as no matter how hard he tries to maintain order and prioritize safety there will always be someone who looks at him as if he’s a capricious madman. 

Because of Jurassic Park’s spectacular failure, the image of the velociraptor--a brilliant and ruthless predator stalking the shadows, picking men off one by one--has captivated the average person’s interest in a way that no other species has. So, ever since that original park, Jurassic World has been chasing the holy grail of a fully operational, successful, and controlled raptor exhibit--and, considering the way his father is currently speaking, Itachi’s sure the board has finally captured that elusive golden ticket. 

“You’re correct,” Fugaku says, though at this point the admission isn’t necessary, and with careful muscular control Itachi holds back a frown. Perhaps this is the reason why no one decided to share this information with him despite the fact he’s the Operations Manager for this entire establishment; given the way he’s previously spoken about subjects such as animal welfare and reducing employee hazards, perhaps they sensed he wouldn’t exactly be on board with the wild idea of releasing one of the world’s most dangerous beasts onto the Earth again. 

Either way, regardless of his own personal feelings on the decision, Itachi intends to oversee it with the same attention to detail he brings to any other project. “It’s a risky move, but it could prove to be quite lucrative if executed properly,” he eventually replies, evenly as he’s able. “I know in prior years other raptors were bred, but they were culled because they proved to be more trouble than they were worth. What’s changed since then?”

“According to our geneticists, the sequences on the upcoming crop will give them a reduced level of aggression and increased agreeability, though to be honest I’m not convinced that isn’t just smoke and mirrors.” Bleakly, Itachi’s inclined to agree; there was a world of difference between breeding a dog for temperament and trying to strip millions of years of prey drive from a wild--and previously extinct--animal. “Given that I’m not completely sold on their claims, it’s more a question of who has changed than what.”

As if on cue, a knock arrives at his father’s door, and in seconds the visitor’s face appears in the frame. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” the man says--at least, that’s what Itachi thinks the man says, because the sight of him alone causes Itachi’s brain to spontaneously stop functioning. 

“Not at all,” Fugaku responds, completely unaware of his son’s inner turmoil. “As a matter of fact we were just discussing your contract with us.”

“Must have been why my ears were burning,” the man replies, his smile broadening into a full-on grin the moment he catches sight of Itachi positively dying in front of his father’s desk. 

If there was a god in this world, He would open a hole in Fugaku’s freshly steam-cleaned carpet and let Itachi fall to his demise. But clearly there isn’t, as instead of time ceasing entirely it drags on and leads to Fugaku announcing, “Itachi, this is Uchiha Shisui. He’s an expert in the growing field of paleo-behavioral studies, which makes him the ideal candidate for rearing the velociraptors and readying them for the public.”

“We’ve met,” Itachi all but chokes out, clearing his throat to expel the sudden lump that’s formed in it. From the other side of the room he can see Shisui fighting a laugh, and in that moment he wishes Shisui would fall in a hole and die, too. 

“Really?” his father asks curiously. “I didn’t know you two were acquainted. How do you know each other?”

While his positions at Jurassic World and in life have allowed Itachi to conquer a variety of challenges, there’s not a single skill or experience that has prepared him for this moment. Because Itachi has no idea how to explain to his father that the reason he knows this man is that he slept with him four years ago and never returned a single one of his calls or texts.

“It’s a long story.”

[most-rare]

YHVH

This a copy of an article I came across that would benefit all believers if you truly believe in ONE God, the ALMIGHTY, the Father of ALL SPIRITS, YHVH’ 

This is for education only. font size | A A A

YHVHs name The Name Series Protection In His Name by haRold Smith a citizen of the Commonwealth (Ephesians 2:19)

"Because he holds fast to Me in love, I will deliver him; I will protect him, because he knows My Name. When he calls to Me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will rescue him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation." Psalm 91:14-16

"And those who know Your Name put their trust in You, for You, YHVH, have not forsaken those who seek You.." Psalm 9:10

"IF you will diligently listen to and obey the Voice of YHVH, your Elohiem, and do that which is right in HIS eyes, and give ear to HIS commandments and keep all HIS statutes, I will put none of the diseases on you that I put on the Egyptians, for I am YHVH, your Healer." Exodus 15:26

It's what we all want - right? Most even expect it - the protection of "God" in their lives. However, few there are that realize it. That protection does not become a reality for most because, as we saw in the previous article, What's In A Name? (click on highlighted words to view content), they are calling out to the wrong deity. They are calling out to a "God" of worldliness. For most people, the God of the Bible is just a god. He is not first and foremost the God of Israel. Israel has been removed from the modifier of this god. His Last Name has been neutered so that He doesn't exist anymore. Now the god of the Bible has become transformed into that singular divine being of all - no longer uniquely associated with a particular people. That is the religious world we have today - a world without the God of Israel. Instead, we have the institutional god of the late Holy Roman Empire. True. Throughout scripture, this God of the Bible is referred to and declares Himself to be YaHoVeH, the Elohim of Israel. And it is this same YHVH of Israel Who says He is our Healer in Exodus 15:26 above IF we obey His Voice and keep His Words.

The Hebrew word in Psalm 91:14 translated as the English phrase "set him on high" or "protect" showing up in most of our modern bibles is sagav which actually means "to be (too) high (for capture)" - hence: "to be safe, to defend, to protect." So, if the way we become "protected" by YHVH is to "know Him" - how do we come to know this Elohim of Israel? How do we come to know His Name. We come to Him the same way Abraham came to Him 430 years before His Name was proclaimed at Sinai. The same way Moses came to know Him before going up on Mount Sinai - simply by desiring to know Him with all of our heart and start calling out for Truth to be revealed to us. In Exodus 33:18 Moses asked YHVH to "show me your Glory" - and He did!! In v19 it says, "I will make all My Goodness pass before you, and I will proclaim the Name of YHVH before you." Here, we see the Name of YHVH IS His Glory (v22), they are interchangeable - to speak of one is to speak of the other. His Glory is His Goodness. His Name is Goodness. It is said of Yeshua in Acts 10:38 that He went about doing Good, manifesting YHVH's Glory. YHVH's Goodness is an indication that we are in His Presence, hence - a cloud of Glory. But a cloud is not something you can capture. It is only something, like the wind, that you can detect because of what its effects are. Scripture tells us that to be in His Presence with its untold blessings today "rests" among His people - among those who call upon His Name. To be in His Presence is to have rest and a joy that comes with that rest (Exodus 33:14, Psalm 16:11). The verses in Exodus 34:5-7 tell us what went before and was proclaimed to Moses, the Name of YHVH - "goodness, mercy, grace, long-suffering, forgiveness" and, most of all, "Truth". All of these attributes comprise His Name - all at the same time. This is His Glory - clearly defined. It is in the lifting up, the elevation of these attributes, the Essence of Who He Is that we call upon, or embrace in our life. This is how we manifest His Name and, thus, come into His Presence. It is through this embrace with our life of His Glory, His Name and all that it entails that His Presence envelopes us as a cloud - and gives us rest (Matthew 11:29).

From a moralistic viewpoint, hatred is identified primarily as an emotion - a blind rage, so to speak, where emotion overwhelms reason ultimately resulting in the taking of a human life and, thus, forming the basis for the necessity of imposed regulation. From the Hebrew perspective, however, hatred is not found to be an emotion. While there may be feelings associated with it, hatred like love, is primarily a choice of will (see what it means to be Gatekeepers). The hatred found in scripture, both in the Greek as well as the Hebrew is defined behaviorally through acts of hostility, disparagement and aversion. To despise something means having nothing to do with it - to separate from it. YHVH's view of hatred is expressed in the first of His Ten Words:

"You shall not worship or serve any other gods, for I, YHVH, your Elohiem am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and the fourth generation of those who hate Me, but showing steadfast love to thousands of those who love Me to keep My commandments." Exodus 20:5-6

Love is shown toward YHVH by keeping His Words. Hatred is shown toward YHVH by not keeping His Words. Yeshua's Words support, reinforce and echo YHVH's Words:

"If you keep My commandments, you will abide in My love, just as I have kept My Father's commandments and abide in His love. Whoever does not love Me does not keep My words and the word that you hear is not Mine but the Fathers who sent Me." John 15:10, 14:24

The place to begin in knowing YHVH is simply to start reading the words on the page just for what they say and mean apart from any traditional theology of men. Words Mean Things and the words of Psalm 91 opening this article plainly state that the one who, "holds fast to Me in love" will be the one who is protected and delivered by YHVH. And we have just seen that to "love Him" is to keep His Ten Words.

The English word "Glory" used in Exodus 33:18 is translated from the Hebrew word kavode which has its origination in a similar word, kavad, both meaning to be heavy or weighty, to be honorable or glorious. Since the "weight" of this splendor comes from being in the Presence of His Glory - all anyone can do is to bow down, to bend the knee at the majesty of His Excellence and, thus, it becomes an acknowledgment of the nobility of His Essence. This is what immediately happened with Moses after YHVH passed before him - he bowed down and worshipped this Glory. He could not help himself, so weighty was the radiance, the brilliance of His Presence. The same thing happened when His Presence filled the tabernacle - the congregation had to bow down from the weight of the magnificence of what was before them. As seen in previous articles, Hebrew words sometimes carry a duality of meaning. Such is the case with this Hebrew word, kavad (2), which is also shown to mean "liver" - the heaviest organ in the body. The function of the liver in the body is to cleanse the blood of impurities. As we embrace His Name in receiving ruach hakodesh we are embracing the Essence of Truth. Here is a place where we need to embrace the Truth found in words. The Hebrew phrase ruach ha kodesh (reading right to left is Hebrew for "the holiness of spirit") has been used inadvertently as a substitute for the English "Holy Spirit" appearing in their bibles. This is incorrect as there is no capitalization in Hebrew; thus, there is no personification, no third person "Holy Spirit". What is the holiness of spirit? Holiness is the Nature abiding in Spirit, Who is YHVH. The holiness of spirit is something that is cultivated within an individual by that individual. Once we have seen that the term "Holy Spirit" is a convoluted translation of the Hebrew perspective of there being only One Spirit spoken of throughout scripture, then, simply put from a scriptural basis, His Essence comes to rest in, settles in, and revitalizes the liver. Through the embrace of the Life exampled by Yeshua, the Essence of the Source of Life becomes a part of our body to cleanse our blood. The liver is also the only organ in the body with the power to regenerate itself.

Yeshua said that He had glorified His Father on the earth because He "manifested His Name" to the twelve men the Father had given Him (John 17:4-12) and He "kept" them in His Name in that He didn't lose one of them (v12). He manifested the Life of the Glory of the Father before them. He kept them in the Glory of His Name by manifesting the Nature, the Character and the Essence of the Father in the Life He led before them that they could see. To embrace the Life Yeshua exampled is to manifest the attributes of the Father in the same manner as He manifested them by His Life. This is what He meant when He said when you see Him - you are seeing the Father (John 14:9). If we are to embrace Yeshua, it can only be in the Way He embraced the Father (John 12:26, see what it means To Believe). In our embrace of the Father, as Yeshua embraced the Father, we become as He is - He is "seen" in us the same way Yeshua said His Father was "seen" in Him (1John 4:17). The Life Yeshua led and entreated us to follow was not some esoteric, ethereal affair only realized after death - it is a down-to-earth, in this earth reality that, once attained, we carry with us (as He did) and our Purpose then becomes to bring that Life into this earthly realm (2Thessalonians 1:9-12). The Life of the Flesh is in His Blood (Leviticus 17:14, John 6:53-54). and the Virtue, the Glory of His Life, lived in the manner of the Flesh He lived, cleanses the Blood - it keeps it pure. As we embrace and appropriate the Virtue of His Life as our own, that Blood of His literally begins to course through our veins to make us clean and we are regenerated. (John 15:3, Romans 8:11).

ark of the covenant There was a difference between the temple of YHVH which was the structure itself and the sanctuary of YHVH which was the dwelling place of His Presence. When Yeshua was accusing the Pharisaical authorities He said, "You have made My Fathers house into a den of thieves." By saying "My Father" they knew He was claiming Messianic authority over the temple, and so they said, "What sign do you show us seeing that you do these things?" and notice what He said: "Yeshua answered and said to them, 'Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.' Then the Pharisees said, 'It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and will You raise it up in three days?' But He was speaking of the temple of His body." (John 2:13-21). They were looking at the physical structure (Hebrew miqdash - from Exodus 25:8) of the temple; but when He said, "Destroy this temple" He used the Hebrew word mishkan which was the word used in Exodus 40:34 to describe the place within the Holy of Holies where the Glory of YHVH's Presence would manifest like a cloud on the mercy seat between the cherubim after the blood was sprinkled - that was the mishkan. Yeshua was saying "I am the temple (mishkan) of YHVH." That Presence was what Yeshua said dwelt within Him. And was the same thing Paul said about the Body of Yeshua, "Know you not that you are the temple (mishkan) of YHVH?" (1Corinthians 3:16). To become a member of the body of the Messiah means to have the same Presence dwelling within us as did Yeshua. YHVH doesn't dwell in buildings but within His People. When you believe on, rely upon, trust in, embrace the Life of YHVH to live as exampled by the Life of Yeshua, you become the mishkan of YHVH. YHVH's ultimate goal has always been to dwell within His people (Jeremiah 31:31-33) and to put His Spirit within us. When you embrace the Life of Yeshua to live as your own, you become the mishkan of YHVH. "So important is this mishkan (Hebrew for "place of residence") that we must constantly be building it - preparing it and making it fit for His rest. Anything that soils it or makes it inappropriate for His Presence must be jettisoned from our lives and repudiated as unbecoming a child of YHVH whose primary goal in life is to have on-going communion and friendship with the Creator" (Tim Hegg, Studies in Torah: Exodus, p. 158).

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law." Galatians 5:22-23

Just looking at the wording of Exodus 34:5-7 used in describing YHVH's Name, His Glory, you find them listed again in Galatians 5:22-23 and described as the "fruit of the Spirit" - singular, meaning "one fruit" or "One Name". They are called the "fruit", singular, of YHVH's Spirit because they are like a singular diamond which has many facets but remains a single entity. Too often these attributes tend to be confused with feelings. When you look at the fruit of the Spirit described in the simplicity they are presented, the first three do have some associative feeling most of us can relate to. But, if you look at the rest, there is no feeling or emotion that can be associated with them whatsoever. I have never "felt" longsuffering. Longsuffering (or patience) is not something you "feel", it is something you "do" - suffering, or enduring for a long while. Faithfulness is just that - BEING faithful whilst in the middle of adverse circumstances that would strain the credibility of His Goodness. Self-control is something you just "exercise." If we realize that love, joy and peace are just as much "do" actions as the rest, we see that these all are simply choices we make in the middle of whatever circumstances are presented us - and they are not called "fruit" of the Spirit by happenstance, either. YHVH once asked me had I ever seen fruit trees eat their own fruit? A fruit tree does not grow fruit for its own benefit or consumption. It grows fruit for the benefit of others passing by to partake of and be blessed by. The scriptural definition of "love" is found in 1John 3:16. Love is what is given to another of the brethren (not the world) at cost to myself. Love is a choice we make in the middle of circumstances that exude hate or loneliness or despair in a brother. We don't "do" love in those instances because we are motivated by a feeling - we "do" love because that is the expression, the manifestation of His Name, of Who He Is we have embraced and now abides within us as a part of us. If a feeling comes around, that's wonderful - but our initial motivation should be from a standpoint of believing that if we call upon His Name by exercising His Attributes in the midst of whatever circumstances we are in, regardless of what we feel, His Presence will manifest. Yeshua said if we ask anything in His Name, it will be done for us. Too many times we ask because of our wants instead of BEing IN His Name, His Nature expressed by these attributes, and don't understand why it is not done as He promised (James 4:3. see Prayer and Healing).

The scripture from Romans 5:1-5 illustrates how all of this works. It says to "rejoice in our tribulation." So, how do you DO joy in the middle of un-joyful circumstances - of tribulation? You REjoice as an exercise, a manifestation, of your belief, your faith, that the Goodness of Who YHVH says He Is will overcome the fear and trepidation the circumstance facing you would try to cause you to believe in. You will believe in one or the other because Faith and Fear, like Light and darkness, cannot abide in the same space at the same time. You DO joy as a proclamation of the Truth of His Presence in the midst of the circumstances surrounding you. As we exercise our faith by the choice of our actions in the middle of the circumstance, we DO Glory - because that is Who He Is. Perfect Love casts out fear and as He is, so are we in this world. As we abide in Him through the trust in our heart of His Goodness and the confession of our mouth which reminds us of His Glory, we overcome the assault of fear mounted on our faith (Romans 10:8-10).

"Lift up your heads, O you gates! And be lifted up, you everlasting doors! And the King of Glory shall come in. Who is this King of Glory? YHVH strong and mighty. YHVH mighty in battle." Psalm 24:7-8

King of Glory How is YHVH mighty in battle? 2Chronicles 20 gives us a glimpse into the type of warfare He engages in. It provides us with a different perspective on what we would normally consider Warfare to be. Here, the battleground was in Ziz, which comes from the Hebrew root word tsiyts (pronounced tsets) and is also the same Hebrew word given to the shining plate of gold the high priests wear on their foreheads. It was these priests and singers that were the warriors sent out before the army in verse 21. The English word translated as "praise" in the Hebrew is halal and means to shine forth brilliantly. This is how we engage in warfare - to simply believe that He is Good; no matter what we see, no matter what we hear, no matter what we feel, no matter what we think and then to manifest His Name, becoming Light in the circumstance. This is how we enter into His Presence. This is how we bring the force of His Glory into this earthly realm for others to see. If we are BEing "In His Name" we can ask whatever we will and it will be done for us because we are not asking to consume it upon ourselves. Our weapons are not physical and the battleground is in our mind - the warfare is over when we manifest the Goodness of YHVH in whatever particular circumstance confronts us. (2Corinthians 10:4-6). The battle is over when we exercise His Goodness, Who His Name Is, in the middle of overwhelming circumstance (see Authority). Were that assembly of Israelites in Chronicles to have picked up a sword and gone swinging into the middle of the enemy confronting them, they would have been conquered because they were outnumbered. Ephesians 5:8-10 tells us that the fruit of the Spirit is IN all goodness and righteousness and truth AND it is associated with being "children of the Light".

So - Be Brilliant. Protection In His Name, a discussion What's In A Name? "...the mystery which has been hidden from ages and from generations, but now has been revealed to His saints. To them YHVH willed to make known what are the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles: which is Yeshua in you, the Hope of Glory." Colossians 1:23-27

http://hethathasanear.com/video/Protection1.html

The Name Series Part One: What's In A Name? Part Two: Protection in His Name Part Three: Abiding In His Name Part Four: The Power In His Name

???Questions??? Please feel free to email me at harold@hethathasanear.com. While not claiming to have all the answers, it would be an honor to partake with you of what Spirit is uncovering.

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Letter from a disenchanted student of the Divine Principle

Many Unification Church members seem to think people who left the organization are like some kind of lapsed Catholics, but most of those people just recognized Moon’s absurd and contradictory rhetoric had absolutely no relationship to reality – I pointed out many of those obvious contradictions in my previous letter to Rev Moon. Even the vaunted Divine Principle was not his own teaching. Much of it came from a woman called Seong-do Kim whose revelations began in 1923. She stated that Jesus did not come to die (not new because other Christians had taught this previously), she also taught that the fall was a sexual sin (again not new because Jewish scholars suggested this long ago and anyone can recognize the association, even sex shops use a bitten apple to advertise their wares). She also taught about the change of blood lineage through the messiah – thus justifying all the deviant sexual activity involved in the pikareum rituals. Another source was a woman called Chong Deuk-eun who dictated a book called the Principle of Life in 1946-47. It was published in 1958.

The history parallels were taken straight from the teachings of Baek-moon Kim’s Israel Monastery – being the reason they finish in 1917, which was Baek-moon’s birth date rather than 1920 when Moon was born. The final Divine Principle book was composed by a committee guided by Hyo-won Eu with input from Young Oon Kim and various professors. So rather than being a direct revelation, the DP is actually an interesting amalgam of Christian theology, nineteenth century science, Oriental philosophy and shamanism – added to the insights and teachings that were taken from various Korean spiritual groups.



This was why I felt free to approach much of the DP as almost allegorical because the main thing to emphasize was personal spiritual maturity – the development of a loving parental heart. (The real meaning of ‘perfection’.) I never believed that absolute Cain/Abel rubbish spouted by Moon and Japanese leaders. I remember one itinerant worker saying, ‘If my central figure tells me this red dress is blue then it’s blue.’ Absolutely insane – but this is exactly the kind of thing that has been propagated by the Moon family and their minions, especially in Japan, and it leads to all kinds of abuses.



In addition to the DP we also have Rev. Moon’s great blessing theory, whereby through downing a glass of holy wine and being engrafted to his lineage we become capable of conceiving pure offspring, free from original sin. These ‘blessed’ children can then form the core of the heavenly kingdom on earth, of course with the ‘True Parents’ and their children at the absolute center. However, the proof of any pudding is in the eating – regardless of how good the recipe might sound. So let us look at the results, the fruits of the messiah and his teaching.

We can start with some of his own blessed children:   Ye Jin – (Divorced.) Hyo Jin – was a drug addict, I saw him give a sermon one time when he was so stoned he had to hold on to the podium in order to stand up. He punched and kicked his wife, Nansook Hong, watched pornography, walked around with a gun in his pocket and beat up church members. (Divorced.) In Jin – was forced to resign her position because it became public knowledge about her affairs with two married members and the illegitimate child she had with one of them. (Divorced.) Un Jin – said clearly on TV that her father was not the messiah, and that the church was just about power and money. (Divorced.)

 Hyun Jin, the kind-hearted business expert who wanted to cut the salaries of our church’s jewelry workers by a third – I saw a video of him calling a church leader an arrogant bastard and kicking him as the man knelt before him. No matter what the guy was guilty of, this was just one more example of the violence perpetrated by the Moon family. Which of course was epitomized by Cleopas, the black Zimbabwean supposedly embodying the spirit of Heung Jin, who went around the world viciously beating up men and women, putting some in hospital. He even threatened church members with a pistol. (All of it approved by Rev Moon who laughed at the beatings and had himself used a baseball bat on members.)



Kook Jin – an arms dealer who said Abel wouldn’t have been killed if he’d had a gun. Divorced his wife and had himself re-blessed with a Korean beauty queen. He now has his own group of armed ‘knights’ willing to do whatever he orders. (Divorced.)

 Hyung Jin, the heir apparent (according to him), lied about getting a BA from Harvard when he actually attained a lower qualification – and if he thinks the parable of the sower is referring to ‘absolute sex’ I think he needs to go back to Divinity School. His Sanctuary Church now promotes the owning of AR-15 semi-automatic assault rifles, and has ceremonies with participants carrying these lethal weapons while wearing bizarre crowns of bullets. According to one of his recent speeches, all the women of the world are ‘Brides of Christ,’ and he of course is now in that Christ position.

Don’t want to go into details about some of the others as I feel sorry for them.



So this so-called true family demonstrates clearly that there is no difference between blessed children and any others. Rev. Moon said as much in Korea when he was talking about Sammy Park, his illegitimate son. He said, ‘The sons from the concubine are better because there is more passion involved in their conception.’ So much for the value of the blessing. 



(Of course Mrs Moon blames the bad behavior of her adult, absolute ruler children on the poor church members, as though they could do anything to control it.)



So now lets look at the practical results of all the members’ sacrifice and offerings:

 This Parc One court case (the conflict that began between Kook Jin and Hyun Jin) resulted in at least 700 million dollars of church money going to lawyers and outside companies. This is at a time when Japanese church members were being bled dry; many could not even afford to go to the dentist. (They were commonly referred to as ‘the toothless ones’ in Japan.)



Cheongpyeong – you couldn’t make it up – they were selling apartments in the spirit world! People have to be completely away with the fairies to buy into that. Mrs Hyo Nam Kim (Dae Mo Nim or Hoon Mo Nim) after being denounced as a fraud, walked away with assets worth more than 230 million dollars (including one of the top golf courses in South Korea), so her spiritual real estate business must have been doing very well. It’s as crazy as charging money so that your ancestors can attend workshops with the spirit of Heung Jin, or paying thirty dollars for two bottles of Danjobi shampoo to get evil spirits out of your hair. (This all of course also being done with the consent of Rev Moon.)

Mrs Kim was supposedly channeling Dae Mo Nim, the mother of Hak Ja Han, which was actually a strange choice because Dae Mo Nim and another woman had spent two years in jail for beating a mentally ill youth to death in one of these frenzied ansu sessions (where they beat bad spirits out of people).

That whole Cheongpyeong providence is merely old Korean shamanism, and just because people have spiritual experiences there doesn’t validate what is going on. Something many members don’t realize is that God works to educate and reach people regardless of what religion they are following.



Rev. Moon often praised Korean culture but Korea was a slave society for most of its history. Although the number of slaves had declined during the nineteenth century the institution was not legally banned until 1894, and the system survived in practice until the 1920s. At least one third of the population were slaves in the past, and the children of slaves automatically belonged to their masters – with most wealthy men keeping concubines. The Koreans always had that tradition of the Yangban, or aristocrats, being served by everybody else, even having a caste of sex slaves for that purpose.



Another tradition was idol worship and shamanism. All this drumming and beating at Cheongpyeong is actually for drawing spirits into people, not driving them out. The disgusting business of putting Moon’s semen and blood into the holy wine is more shamanism. Shamans believe if you can get someone to imbibe your bodily fluids they will come under your control. By the way, Rev Moon’s children used to refer to Mrs Kim and her people as ‘the witches of Cheongpyeong.’ To put this in perspective there are still over 300,000 shamans or ‘mudangs’ plying their trade in Korea. 



Conferences. After working on some of them I was shown very clearly that all those big science, arts and other conferences actually had no purpose other than glorifying Rev Moon. He wasn’t at all interested in any results from those meetings, only in how many famous people attended.



About 500 million dollars is donated each year by the Japanese church, but where does it all go? What great world-changing projects do you see it used for? Of what use are all these glorious palaces? The one at Cheongpyeong cost over a thousand million dollars. Just think what good could have been done in the world with such funds. This particular palace is now adorned with giant statues of Hak Ja Han with Jesus kneeling before her and a much diminished figure of Sun Myung Moon in obedient attendance. She has effectively created a new religion centered on herself by changing the basic teachings and proclaiming herself as the Only Begotten Daughter of God, the wife of God, the mother of God and God himself/herself. (What kind of mental gymnastics the present members are doing to believe this utter nonsense is beyond me.)



I know each national church lives in its own little bubble, in effect creating its own version of the Unification society and cherry picking which headquarters’ directions to implement. Each country also seems to hold onto its own view of the ‘messiah,’ effectively editing out anything that does not conform to this ideal. However, with the advent of the Internet this can thankfully no longer be the case.

It is the very core of the Unification Church that needs to be examined. The whole church has been built on lies. Even Rev Moon’s life story is full of falsehoods. Remember that picture of him carrying the man on his back; he let it be known for years that it was him before finally admitting it wasn’t.

The stories about Heungnam – I heard a testimony from one of those early disciples where she went to visit him and found him drinking tea in a nearby village! Chung-hwa Pak had been an officer in the military and was put in charge of the prisoners. He designated which tasks the prisoners should do. He was able to give Moon time off so they could talk together about his beliefs. Moon was not always being worked to death as he later stated.


He said he graduated in electrical engineering at Waseda University in Tokyo, but he actually only attended night classes at a technical high school.


The Church made out that Moon was arrested in North Korea for preaching against communism, but the charges were really for bigamy and adultery. Chong-hwa Kim, the married woman involved, was also jailed. His anti-communist stance came much later.



The story about him meeting Jesus on the mountainside is also untrue. It was Seong-do Kim who first told people she’d had these Easter revelations, then Baek-moon Kim claimed them as his, and finally Rev Moon – whose lies gave him away as Easter did not fall on the date he gave for that year. In his most recent account of that meeting he calls Jesus a bastard, and originally taught that Jesus should have had sex with his mother to restore the fall. He also claimed to have met and talked with Buddha, but until his first visit to India he thought Buddha was Chinese. 



The Tragedy of the Six Marys. This book described the pikareum, or womb-cleansing, ceremonies conducted during the early years of the Unification Church. For years we were told it was untrue, but before the book came out in Japan they started giving lectures explaining the providential reasons why Moon had to have sex not only with the Six Marys, but also with all the wives of the 36, 72 and even the 124 couples. Some of the members listening to those lectures left the church afterwards so they stopped giving them, but they started them again in Korea from what I heard.

The Israel Monastery was a pikareum church with Baek-moon Kim doing the womb cleansing by having sex with the female members. Another similar one was the Olive Tree Movement started by Tae-Seon Park. This had 300,000 members and the churches had special rooms to practice the pikareum rituals. So there were plenty of examples of this grotesque idea for Rev Moon to draw on.



The holy wine ceremony is a symbolic sexual act, but for the first years of the church Rev Moon actually had sex with the female members. This is the core of the church and it is both vile and ludicrous.



I don’t say these things lightly because I needed plenty of evidence before I believed them, but I know people in both Japan and Korea who attended lectures where this behavior was justified. In America Hyung Jin and Kook Jin have admitted such things happened. It was admitted by Young Oon Kim, Papasan Choi, Chung-Hwa Pak, President Eu’s cousin (Shin-hee Eu), Annie Choi (the mother of Sam Park), Deok-jin Kim and many others. Rev Yong also went around the world giving lectures explaining the dispensational necessity of such sex practices.



God of Day and God of Night. There used to be a shrine to this primitive Korean god to the east of Seoul. (Moon was incorporating any kind of rubbish into his mythology by the end of his life.)

I could report on even worse activities and crimes but I think this is enough for now. The Divine Principle itself is a wonderful construct, (Hyo-won Eu being something of a genius) the only problem being that it isn’t true. So much of the numerology, four position foundations, triple objective purposes and so on, is actually meaningless. There was no sexual fall and inherited original sin and Satan are non-existent. The history parallels are extremely contrived, and although interesting, prove nothing at all. There are many more aspects of the book that don’t make sense. Some parts of course are helpful, Jesus not coming to die and so on, but none of these are original ideas, so the book certainly doesn’t prove that Moon is the Second Advent.

▲ Baek-moon Kim was born in 1917. He devised the parallels of history.



As predicted nothing happened on Foundation Day apart from a few pointless ceremonies. The church leadership knew this would be the case, which is why they were already telling people to prepare for 2020, the 100th anniversary of Moon’s birth. Mrs Moon is emphasizing witnessing now. (Because tithes are an ongoing source of revenue.) She recently told the Japanese wives in Korea that if they don’t do well then their descendants will pay lots of indemnity. She seems to have forgotten what her husband said on October 27, 1999, ‘No more indemnity is needed. The providence of restoration is completed.’



I personally think anyone still teaching the Divine Principle has to examine all of the above, and then ask themselves if they are just helping to propagate a gigantic destructive fraud? Thousands of people have gone through real suffering to enrich Moon and his family. Many of them had their lives ruined by being matched and married to people they could not relate to. It’s hard to believe but Moon’s church even advertised for any Korean men who wanted wives to come to one of those big blessings – just to make the numbers up, although he charged them between two and ten thousand dollars for each purchased bride. He then matched dedicated Japanese sisters to men who weren’t even church members – some of whom were unemployed drunkards or worse. (One of these wives eventually killed her Korean husband after suffering years of abuse.) Again, ask yourself whether these matchings were the action of a loving father, or an evil despot with no concern at all for the happiness and well-being of others?



If members were matched with someone they could love and be happy with, then they were in the minority, as it was mostly a matter of luck. Remember he matched physical brothers and sisters on at least four occasions that I know of, then changed the matching when he was told about it, so it certainly wasn’t God guiding him.



If people want God in their lives all they have to do is invite him in. Knock and the door will be opened. You don’t need to go to God through Moon or anyone else, and heaven is a place for heavenly people, so if you aren’t heavenly then no blessing, white robe or inseminated wine is going to get you in there.

And just to be clear, arrogance and avarice are not heavenly attributes.



I believe anyone who has sincerely tried to serve God and create a better world has certainly not wasted their time, because God will remember their efforts whatever religion they followed, but the Unification Church, FFWPU, or Hak Ja Han’s new name for it ‘Heavenly Parent’s Holy Community,’ is nothing but a despotic money-making, power-seeking, destructive scam that should not be supported in any way.



My apologies people, no jokes this time, I’m too disgusted by the whole sorry mess.



Sloe Gin

______________________________________________

Newsweek on the many Korean messiahs of the 1970s

Hwang Gook-joo and his orgies

The Divine Principle is constructed to control members

Sun Myung Moon’s Theology of the Fall, Tamar, Jesus and Mary

Sun Myung Moon – Restoration through Incest

Shamanism is at the heart of Sun Myung Moon’s church

Japanese member, Ms. K, was forced to marry Korean man she did not like

Sun Myung Moon makes me feel ashamed to be Korean

The Fall of the House of Moon – New Republic

Sun Myung Moon’s secret love child – Mother Jones

Cult Indoctrination – and the Road to Recovery