#i have friends and family who make comments about topics which directly effect me and don't even consider it

[randomaj]

something something about how it really sucks that it's basically impossible for me to not be discriminated against being in so many minority groups and minorities within that, but also I feel like I can't get angry/stressed by it because I am infinitely more well-off compared to other people, but also I experience a lot of things first-hand and shouldn't have to deal with that ( as should no-one else ) but also actually it shouldn't even matter because you're allowed to feel angry about stuff and be mentally ill and not have to justify and fuck.

[princeescaluswords]

Unsolicited Tips for Fanfiction Writers #1: The Lecture

I want to preface this with the idea that I'm not writing this from some position of authorial scold. This is a problem with my own writing about which I have had to be very careful.

Every author experiences moments when they need to deliver exposition, elucidate a theme, or provide context for an action for their story. This is especially true in fanfiction, when a writer feels enormous pressure to relate the work before them with the original source material. Having one character explain it to another is not only an effective solution but in certain genres expected. Characters who don't know certain things often have to learn about them.

But it can get tricky, especially when it comes to fanfiction. Sometimes the reader can suddenly become aware that they're being addressed by the author telling them what to think, and that's usually not the reason why someone reads a story. While some readers are in tune with the author so much that it doesn't bother them, a lot of readers will feel that they're the ones being lectured.

In my opinion, the key to delivering a useful and non-intrusive lecture in your story is the relationships between the speaker and their audience. Is there a reason for the speaker to be delivering the information? Are they an authority on the topic? Is there a reason for the audience to listen to the speaker? Do they respect the speaker or need the information being delivered? If these things don't exist, the curtain parts and the reader experiences the author talking directly to them.

I'll give you an example. In a recent Teen Wolf fanfiction I came across, a crossover with Hawaii 5-0, Stiles went to the islands and became involved with the team, and Steve Garrett returned with him to Beacon Hills for other reasons, but Stiles wants to "give Scott a chance" to make things up to Stiles. It really should have been labeled "Bad Friend Scott McCall" but no one really labels things correctly.

Plot events occur, but the latest chapter has a scene where Steve Garret lectures Scott on how badly he's been treating Stiles, calls him a spineless coward, and threatens him with violence if Scott hurts Stiles emotionally. It's a lecture all right. But here's the problem (as I put into the constructive criticism comment I left for the author).

Why the hell would Scott not just turn around and walk out of the hospital room after his first sentence? Who the hell is Steve Garrett to Scott? We, the readers, know who that is, but Scott doesn't know this person from Adam. Scott, of course, doesn't defend himself, because in these types of "The Author Hates Canon and Will Make It Your Problem" stories, the characters they dislike never get a chance to defend themselves. But the real important point I feel is -- what in Scott's characterization implies that he would listen to a white male stranger, however dangerous and threatening, scold him on how he has to treat Stiles? It's not like that exact thing hasn't happened before.

I should have realized that this story would be full of the "Author Telling Me Why I Shouldn't Like Scott." In an earlier chapter, Peter says this gem to Stiles:

“Isn’t he? How much easier would your life have been, your father’s life had been, if Scott had accepted what he became sooner? How better would your lives be if he hadn’t tried to ignore the insane, serious change he went through and put all of your lives at stake just to pretend he was a normal boy to be able to get the girl he confused lust for love for? And that’s not even touching on who said girl and her family even were!” 

I let that go, because this is not out of character for Peter to be a manipulative douchebag. And since Stiles had come to Peter, it wasn't completely out of line for him to listen. I was surprised that Stiles didn't respond. "I did wonder how much easier my life would have been if you hadn't tried to mind-control Scott into killing me, so there's that." But this is an older Stiles, so maybe he's not as sarcastic.

But the lecture from Steve Garrett was the breaking point. I was out of the story permanently. Even if you think Scott is the stupidest werewolf that ever lived, it's still part of his characterization -- which the author never bothered to change because the purpose of this story was to express their hatred of Scott McCall -- that he doesn't let weird strange white men tell him what to do.

I mean, what's left at this point? If Scott's this bad -- a spineless coward who is completely in the wrong but wont' recognize it -- why does Stiles even care? He lives thousands of miles away in Hawaii! If Scott's this bad -- someone so selfish and oblivious that Peter Hale is a better person and a overly-tanned white cop from another state has to threaten him -- why does Scott even care? What is this story but a 30k (so far) lecture on why the author didn't like the show? I'm pretty sure I know the answer already -- either Scott will be killed/maimed/humiliated or he will throw himself at Stiles feet and apologize for not centering his life around Stiles's needs. Either way, Stiles will go back to the big island, having defeated his nemesis (Scott, in case the audience wasn't paying attention) and live happily ever after.

You can write stories like this, but if you want to reach an audience larger than the people who already agree with you, it might do well to make sure that the characters are characters, and not mouthpieces.

[mianavs]

meeting an assassin

Illumi x f!reader x Hisoka (ish)

part 3 of Cathexis

a/n: and it’s all coming together~ still very much an Illumi x reader but Hisoka will play an important role moving forward

wc: 3k

The purpose behind meeting Hisoka took over your mind as the elevator descended the many floors of Heaven’s Arena and, by the time the bell rang indicating your arrival, all your apprehension had been replaced with determination.

Cathexis

“Wait for me!”

A hand swung out and stopped the elevator doors just in time for you to slip in. You thanked the person before leaning against the opposite wall looking down at your appearance. After mulling over what to wear, you went with the only dress you owned; a black dress that your mother had gifted to you for family reunions.

“Hah...”

You hated to admit it but you were nervous for your meeting with Hisoka—your dress and heels a clear indicator. You weren’t sure how it would go but you prepared for the worst by looking your best; you even threw on some makeup for good measure. The purpose behind meeting Hisoka took over your mind as the elevator descended the many floors of Heaven’s Arena and, by the time the bell rang indicating your arrival, all your apprehension had been replaced with determination.

Stepping out of the elevator and into the noisy lobby, you searched the crowd for the familiar mop of pink hair when you sensed an unnerving presence near you. Swinging around, you caught the person’s arm in a tight grip only to realize it was your date for the night genuinely surprised by your aggressiveness.

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Morow,” you apologized dropping his arm and taking a step back. “I didn’t mean that.”

Hisoka’s lips quirked into a smile that didn’t match his eyes and massaged his arm for effect. “A bit tense aren’t we, Y/N?”

Had Hisoka been the one that triggered your response? Or could it be?

No. He hadn’t been keeping tags on you and he was supposed to be on a mission

“Sorry, I have a hard time lowering my guard.”

You took the arm Hisoka offered you and the two of you exited the lobby into the bustling street. You took the moment to casually admire his appearance. He wore a burgundy suit paired with a lavender button down that might have looked ridiculous on any other man but fit him like a glove.

“You look lovely tonight, Y/N.”

You smiled at Hisoka as you made your way down the street to the nearby restaurant Hisoka had made a reservation at. “Thank you, I must admit you clean up well yourself.”

“Taking out a special girl like you requires at least this much.” You didn’t dwell on his words too much knowing better than to fall for a man’s flattery. You merely widened your eyes and looked away feigning naiveté. You felt his eyes on you and could almost see the smirk that adorned his face.

The restaurant, sure enough, was upscale and was full of well-dressed people that were no doubt influential as well. You were used to dining in such establishments to find jobs but being here for a completely different purpose stripped you of your usual relaxed and indifferent demeanor. Instead, you pieced together a cheerful naïve façade that you hoped would convince your date.

“I apologize if I’m a bit boring, Mr. Morow, but I’m not used to dining with people I’ve just met.”

“Hisoka. Call me Hisoka, Y/N.” You plastered on a shy smile and widened your eyes purposefully before quietly trying his name on your tongue. “Very well…Hisoka.”

Your drinks arrived shortly after that and the two of you gave your orders to the waiter who penned them down and walked away leaving you alone once again. Taking a sip of your red wine for courage, you debated in which way to steer the conversation in your favor but Hisoka spoke first.

“Are you an assassin?”

You laughed. Not because you found his comment amusing but because you needed to mask your shock. Your gaping mouth and your trembling shoulders that had been your gut reaction were beyond your control in that moment but you hoped that the breathy laugh masked them sufficiently.

Had he figured you out?

“Oh no, I could never be an assassin,” you admitted lightheartedly. “I’ve actually been a pro hunter for six years now. A jackpot hunter to be exact.” You didn’t fail to notice the gleam in Hisoka’s eyes when you uttered the word hunter.

“Mmm a pro-hunter…you must have gotten licensed at a young age. You don’t look a day over twenty.”

“How did you know? I just turned nineteen a couple weeks ago.” You took another sip of wine to mask the grimace on your face. The conversation was far too focused on you for your liking but keeping the magician talking was the only way you would wear him down and turn the tides on him.

“A hunter at thirteen? No wonder you’re so strong.” You indulged him further with the backstory of your family of hunters and your desire to make as much money as possible to help your parents.

“And that’s why I’m here at Heaven’s Arena,” you stated. “I may be in between jobs but I still need to make money.”

“Yes, Heaven’s Arena is perfect for that and what better way to make money than to have fun doing it.” He was surprisingly genuine as he spoke and you pressed the subject further hoping it would lead to the topic you wanted.

“What are you doing at here?” You asked innocently but clutched your skirt underneath the table in anticipation.

“The same as you,” he replied measuring his words. “Making money on the side while doing what I like the most.”

“And that is?” You asked despite already knowing the answer from investigating him beforehand. Hisoka’s mouth contorted into an unsettling smile that created a heavy pit in your stomach.

“Fighting the strongest people I encounter.” His lilting voice went down an octave as he eyed you with lascivious intent. Your mind and body’s opposing reactions to his aroused state terrified you. While your mind assured you of the danger Hisoka represented, a strange warm wave washed away the discomforting pit in your stomach and your traitorous body wanted more.

“I can’t say I disagree,” you responded while ignoring your inner turmoil. “There’s nothing more exciting than being challenged. I guess that’s why I enjoy being a hunter; I get to meet all sorts of strong people while also making money.”

With your food arriving, the conversation was placed on hold and the two of you began to eat.

“Say Hisoka,” You broke the silence after swallowing a mouthful of baked fish. “Are you an assassin?”

Hisoka looked surprised for the second time that night before smiling slightly and shaking his head no. You had assumed he was one from the get-go since you couldn’t find anything about his profession but hearing him deny it only increased your curiosity on how he had gotten acquainted with Illumi.

“Oh, well I figured since you brought up assassins,” you admitted. “Also, from what I’ve seen you’re a strong and skilled nen user.”

“I couldn’t be one either. I dislike being tied down to any organization and, from what I’ve heard, the jobs are far too easy and dull.”

“Are you well-acquainted with assassins?” The question that had been dancing on your tongue finally escaped and you had to pinch your thigh to lessen your restlessness with the dull sting.

“Only one and that’s the other reason I’m here,” Hisoka informed you and his eyes narrowed with amusement. “To meet my assassin acquaintance.”

You froze even before Hisoka’s words registered because you felt that familiar itch that made your skin crawl only this time you were certain. Illumi was already in the restaurant and was making his way towards your table.

“Ah~ I hope you don’t mind but I told him where I was and he just arrived.” Hisoka said it like an afterthought as he waved to the man behind you while you forgot how to breathe altogether.

While you knew you would have to face Illumi one day, you were so sure it would be on your terms and yet here you were on an appointment with your bait while the fish approached you like nothing until he stood directly behind you. You suffocated from the tension that radiated off Illumi as he stared holes into your back. Hisoka stood up to greet Illumi and you, in an attempt to act normally, stood up as well but did so too fast that you lost your footing and found yourself tumbling forward only to be caught by a pair of strong pale arms.

You drowned in Illumi’s pools of black as he held you in his arms. His eyes were as wide as saucers as he took in the woman he had been following for years. Judging by his reaction, you could tell he hadn’t expected running into you which meant he had just finished his job and hadn’t tracked you yet.

The sound of Hisoka clearing his throat snapped the daze Illumi and you were in and he gently helped you to your feet. You steadied yourself with Illumi’s arm before settling into your seat and plastering a look on your face that you hoped came across as sheepish instead of terrified.

“I guess it’s been too long since I last wore heels,” you chuckled before facing Illumi who took a seat next to Hisoka. “Thank you for your help.” You dug the heel of your shoe into your calf to snap out of your shocked state with the pain.

Illumi merely regarded you with an unreadable expression before calling over your waiter and ordering his meal. Turning your attention to the magician next to him, Hisoka seemed to be enjoying the interaction between you and his friend. He smirked at Illumi before taking a sip of wine and meeting your scrutinizing gaze.

“You should have told me we would be having company.”

“Yes, you should have,” Illumi interjected turning to face his acquaintance. Hisoka, seeing the two gang up on him, threw his hands up in defeat. “What can I say, I forgot you were arriving today. I was completely distracted by Miss L/N’s beauty and strength.”

You remained silent observing Illumi whose face was emotionless but his jaw was tensed in a way that could only be interpreted to be due to agitation. It seemed that Illumi wasn’t fond of Hisoka’s attentions towards you and it only fueled your desire to agitate him even more.

“You flatter me, Hisoka,” you replied with a little laugh before engaging Illumi. “Is he always so friendly, Mr.…oh, I’m sorry but I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“Illumi Zoldyck,” was his expressionless reply and you hid your surprise at Illumi using his full name despite you supposedly being a complete stranger. You took the confidence in which he confided his name as proof that he had no idea what you knew.

“F/N L/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Zoldyck.” You held his gaze for a thrilling moment before continuing the conversation. “Hisoka mentioned you worked as an assassin?”

Illumi gave Hisoka a pointed look before turning his attention to the woman before him. “Yes alongside my whole family.”

“I may not be an assassin but I know what it’s like to be in the same field as your family. You see, my family has a long-standing tradition of being hunters.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of your family.” Illumi admitted startling you enough to choke on your wine. The two men regarded you curiously as you fought against the dread that ripped through your entire person and left you grasping at straws to recover your composure. “Y-you know my family?”

Illumi’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing. “No, I only said I’ve heard of the L/N family of hunters.”

The blood drained from your face as Illumi studied you. You had misspoken and he was suspicious.

“Oh,” You replied playing it off and laughed hoping it didn’t sound too forced. “I’m afraid I can’t say the same of your family.”

“How interesting,” Hisoka chimed in. “Someone who’s never heard of the Zoldycks.”

“I’m just heeding my parent’s advice,” you informed the magician, saying too much in your nervous state.

“And that would be?” Illumi asked, the rare curiosity evident in his tone.

“To avoid getting involved with assassins.” You spoke honestly, remembering the warnings your parents gave you after every family reunion before parting ways. You wondered if they spoke from experience or if it was just something all parents did—tell their children to avoid dangerous people. Noticing the odd looks your company was shooting in your direction, you chuckled and donned your mask now that you felt more at ease.

“Although, I suppose it’s silly advice given the line of work I’m in,” you mused shaking your head before speaking again with a newfound boldness. “Our paths surely would have crossed eventually if they haven’t already before, right, Mr. Zoldyck?”

“…I suppose so, Miss L/N.”

Illumi eventually replied after a pause that was longer than normal. You zeroed in on the faint change in his demeanor. The slight tensing of his bare arm, his set jaw, and the twitching corners of his mouth. You couldn’t help the smirk that creeped onto your face as you took another bite of food. Satisfied, you turned your attention to Hisoka, who was quieter than you preferred, and complimented his choice of restaurant. The conversation then shifted to something more light-hearted between you and Hisoka while Illumi said very little if anything at all.

As the evening came to an end, the two men escorted you back to your floor. The energy in the long elevator ride shifted suddenly as a menacing aura attacked your senses. You were on edge instantly and glanced in the direction it came from only to find Hisoka’s bloodlust seeping out of him and directed at you. The sheer power of his murderous energy had you breaking out in cold sweat and you ripped your eyes away from him and focused on the increasing numbers that glowed on the black panel in front of you. An onslaught of negative thoughts took over as Hisoka’s bloodlust enveloped your body and tightened around your throat.

Would Hisoka attack you here?

Would Illumi join him? Had they fooled you into some sort of trap?

While you might have been able to escape Hisoka, you were no match for the two of them and things would surely end badly for you. As your mind raced for a possible solution to the worst-case scenario you were concocting, a firm voice broke through your thoughts and Hisoka’s threat.

“Hisoka.”

Illumi’s reprimanding voice echoed off the walls and cleansed you of the magician’s murderous intent until it reverted back to its owner who seemed more than pleased with himself. You relaxed your shoulders and shakily let out the breath you’d been holding. Before you could worry about the weakened state you’d shown, the elevator bell rang and the doors opened to reveal the floor of your suite.

After stepping out of the elevator, you turned to the duo eager to bid them farewell and put an end to the eventful evening. “Thanks for escorting me but I can see myself from here. Good—"

“Let’s keep in touch, Y/N.” Hisoka interrupted and held out his mobile phone to you.

Illumi’s head whipped towards Hisoka and the vexation on his face would be evident to any bystander let alone his only friend and the woman that had been investigating him for years. Seeing Illumi upset stoked the flames of your desire to get under his skin and you took Hisoka’s offer. While your eyes may have been focused on the screen of Hisoka’s phone, you felt Illumi’s anger rolling off him in malevolent waves and heard the pleased hums coming from Hisoka that only served to increase the former’s fury.

Handing Hisoka his phone back, you deftly avoided his reach that, most likely, intended to plant another not-so chaste kiss on the back of your hand and walked away without another glance back at the murderous magician and apathetic assassin.

Illumi and Hisoka sat at a lonely bar across the street from Heaven’s Arena whilst sipping on expensive liquor. After bottoming his drink, Hisoka decided to amuse himself by riling up his friend once more that night. Hisoka had been mildly aware of Illumi’s prey but he hadn’t expected to run into you nor had he expected you to be so — interesting.

“So, Y/N is the pet you check on constantly?”

“Was it a coincidence?” Illumi replied with another question. “You meeting her here.”

“It was.” Hisoka replied with a small sigh. “I guess this is what they mean by a fated encounter.”

Illumi tensed at the inclination of Hisoka’s words. He would have to put an end to it before Hisoka could sink his fangs further into what didn’t belong to him.

“Her fate is mine. I suggest you abandon any thought of claiming her.” Illumi’s monotonous voice was tense as he took a sip of his bourbon while Hisoka basked in the assassin’s out of character behavior. He had found an accessible weakness to the stoic assassin and Hisoka had no intention of letting it go.

“Oh…how?” Hisoka asked mirthfully. Illumi set his glass down and turned to face his acquaintance.

“She is my betrothed. Our families arranged it when she was an infant although it seems that she isn’t aware.”

Hisoka absorbed the information Illumi told him regarding the arrangement between their families. How the L/N’s had been indebted to the Zoldycks for a job that had been too expensive to pay at once. The Zoldycks decided to take their daughter as repayment. Hisoka found the whole affair fascinating but what piqued his interest was the fact that you didn’t know anything about the betrothal or the Zoldycks for that matter. Hisoka found himself wanting to know why the L/N’s hadn’t told their daughter she’d been sold to the Zoldycks and even further, wanted to know how you would react to the revelation. He could already imagine the fury, confusion, and dejection on your pretty face and the aura of your nen increasing from the rage. The vision served to arouse him and he couldn’t help but hum in pleasure.

“I won’t tell you to stay away from her because I know you won’t, but it would be in your best interest not to tell her of the engagement. She isn’t ready for it.” Illumi was firm and Hisoka knew better than to outright challenge him, but the wonderful reaction he would get from you captured his mind and convinced him. He would tell you and he would tell you soon.

[nerdygaymormon]

What do you think about the possible excommunication of Natasha Helfer?

Before this week, the only thing I knew about Natasha Helfer is I’d read an article she’d written about masturbation being part of normal sexual development, and she doesn’t see it as sinful. I agree with her. 

Because of the publicity surrounding her summons to a membership council, I now know much more about her. 

She made a video about being summoned to a membership council scheduled for April 18th. For starters, a stake where she hasn’t lived since 2019 has decided to do this, which seems strange to me. 

Here’s the things the summons letter cites as “misconduct”:

Support for same-sex marriage

Teaching that masturbation is part of a normative sexual-development journey and should not be seen as “sin” or as a reason to keep our youth from being considered worthy to serve or church activities

Her stances on sexually-explicit materials, aka pornography (she believes this is because she educates about using a values model vs an addiction model in the treatment of such concerns)

She’s been critical of Church leaders

Concerns she has encouraged people to leave the Church 

—————————

I went to section 32.6 of the General Handbook which lists the things someone may face a membership council. Frankly, the things listed in the letter sent to Natasha Helfer are not found in the Handbook. 

I suppose these could fit under the charge of “Apostasy,” because she publicly declares opinions different from the Church. Here’s what the Handbook says constitutes apostasy:

Repeatedly acting in clear and deliberate public opposition to the Church, its doctrine, its policies, or its leaders

Persisting in teaching as Church doctrine what is not Church doctrine after being corrected by the bishop or stake president

Showing a pattern of intentionally working to weaken the faith and activity of Church members

Continuing to follow the teachings of apostate sects after being corrected by the bishop or stake president

Formally joining another church and promoting its teachings (Total inactivity in the Church or attending another church does not by itself constitute apostasy. However, if a member formally joins another church and advocates its teachings, withdrawing his or her membership may be necessary.)

—————————

Natasha Helfer is a well-known LDS marriage counselor and certified sex therapist in Utah. She’s written several articles that have been widely read. She’s been a recurring guest on the Mormon Mental Health podcast, Mormon Matters and appeared on many other podcasts. 

She’s particularly sought out because of her training & expertise and her experiences in helping members of the Church overcome their sense of shame regarding sexuality. 

As a marriage counselor, she helps couples where one or both goes through a faith crisis, she says she doesn’t encourage anyone to leave the Church but honors their choices and helps them work through their thoughts & feelings, and also the effect it has on their marriage.  

Because of the news about her being summoned for a membership council, I’ve learned more about her positions. Here’s a list of some of the things I’ve seen in her writing: 

Sex Ed in Utah public schools should be comprehensive and accurate

Sexual assault is a crime & should be talked about as such

The LDS Church should know how to address sexual misconduct and sexual assault much better than it currently does

We should embrace and minister to our trangender neighbors, not fear them and make church difficult for them

Excommunication is cruel and unusual punishment which often is a traumatic experience used by the Church to silence its critics

Service Missions should be setup to be meaningful and seen as equal to proselyting missions

LGBTQ+ members should be affirmed and included in their faith community

LDS teachings & messages to LGBTQ+ members is akin to bullying and has real-world consequences on their mental health & lives

Fear of the BYU Honor Code actually causes many to not seek repentance for fear of academic punishment

The Church teaching that only certain families that fit the mold will get to enjoy the afterlife together is harmful. Mormon Heaven = Sad Heaven. She lists many groups who are harmed by this teaching, including: mixed-faith families, LGBTQ+ individuals & their families, families where someone struggles with addiction, single-parent families, families trying to deal with abuse & trauma, families dealing with mental health conditions such as bi-polar or impulse-control, family survivors of someone who died by suicide

When the Church rescinded the policy of exclusion against gay couples and their children, it should have been accompanied by an apology, not just a brief statement of the announcement with no explanation for the change

Social media isn’t the problem, how we use it is. If we’re keeping in touch with family & friends with whom we otherwise wouldn’t because of distance, accessing support you wouldn’t find in your area, obtaining ideas & resources, these are good. Comparing ourselves to others’ “best selves”, debating others, writing mean comments and such are not helpful. Too often people behave differently online than they do in person

We should wish people well when they leave our church and faith community and wish them well on their spiritual journey. We do a good job at celebrating newcomers even though many of them had to say goodbye to something in order to say hello to us

We need to speak of abortion more than as if anyone who gets one is evil. Even the Church’s position makes room for abortion in certain circumstances and we should be more nuanced in how we speak of it

Biological sex and gender are not binary. This may be LDS doctrine but the sciences of Biology and Psychology say otherwise

She supported the law ending conversion therapy in Utah of LGBTQ+ people

Racism is a public health emergency in the USA, racism is more than hate, it’s in our systems. It’s in our scriptures, our folklore, our culture, our history

Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself. It’s acceptance and moving forward

She also has many articles & podcasts about improving marriage relationships, how to talk with your child about sex, tips for a mixed-faith marriage and similar topics directly related to her job as a marriage counselor and sex therapist.

I’m very impressed, from what I see. She is a tremendous force for good in our LDS community. We need people willing to speak the truth. 

—————————

Here’s two articles that especially impressed me. 

First is one is about masturbation, how it’s a legitimate way to meet one’s needs and some of the many benefits associated with sexual release. 

Second is one about pornography, the LDS culture gives pornography more power than it deserves with our blanket bans, secrecy & shaming, and calling virtually all porn viewing an addiction.

—————————

Frankly, based on what I post on my blog, I could be charged with all the same things that Natasha Helfer is being charged with.

Do I support same-sex marriage? Yes. Absolutely.

Do I think masturbation is a sin? No, and I think many Church websites, publications, and the General Handbook back up this view. 

Is masturbation a normal part of sexual development? Yes. And it has many benefits for individuals, especially singles like me, and even within a marriage

Is porn always wrong? I definitely can think of ways porn can be included inside a healthy marriage, perhaps as a way to help a partner get “in the mood,” or for someone with a higher libido to use along with masturbation, as part of foreplay, or even getting some ideas to spice up their love life. 

Have I been critical of Church leaders? You betcha. I think they’re wrong on LGBTQ+ topics and I say so. 

Do I encourage people to leave the Church? I don’t view myself this way, although I wouldn’t say that I try to get them to stay, either. It’s their path to walk. I know most LGBTQ+ people leave the Church, it’s the way our journeys normally go. I feel God has told me it’s fine for me to leave this church, so in no way do I think poorly of people who leave. This church isn’t ready for queer people and I don’t think God requires us to remain some place that harms us.

My understanding is we’re allowed to have beliefs that differ from the Church, as long as we’re not recruiting people to our side. Simply sharing your opinion or some differences in how you view things shouldn’t be something we can be punished for.

I suppose the difference between her and me is she’s seen as a high-profile individual and she’s using her credentials to give weight to her opinions, and I’m just some rando gay guy who has a blog.

[josefavomjaaga]

I still owe @northernmariette​ a post about the Tyrolean uprising of 1809. Let me state at the very first that, being a Bavarian and mostly studying sources close to the Wittelsbach family, I'm the last person who should comment on this. So, if there's any Austrian, preferably Tyrolean, here who would like to jump in, please feel free to do so. This is one of those events where legend has overpowered history; the figure of Andreas Hofer in particular during the last two centuries has been (re)interpreted and (ab)used by pretty much every political side, and he has been judged everything from a heroic martyr to an Alpine version of the Taliban. (No, that latter term did not come from Bavaria!)

I may in the past have talked »a little« already about this incident:

The marriage between Eugène de Beauharnais and Auguste von Bayern. Yes, I'm pretty sure that topic did already come up before. We can take it from there, because one of the things that Napoleon dangled in front of Max Joseph's nose in order to make him agree to this marriage was - Tyrol. He kept his word. After the war of 1805, Austria had to cede Tyrol to Bavaria.

And with that, Max Joseph had bit off a lot more than he could chew. Tyrol, a mountainous region including many Alpine passes connecting Bavaria and Northern Italy, was, except for its capital Innsbruck, a very rural, highly conservative and fanatically catholic region (that catholicism included plenty of regional and local customs and superstitions), plus they had, under Austrian rule, enjoyed certain special laws and law exemptions that I understand emperor Joseph II already had desperately tried - and failed - to get rid of. Now, after Bavaria took over, Tyrol as a region was dissolved into a couple of counties, to be governed like the rest of Bavaria, and there were no more extras for Tyroleans. In particular, this concerned conscription. Tyroleans under Austrian rule had been exempt from serving in the regular Austrian army, but were supposed to form militias and defend their mountains on their own. That, too, ended under Bavarian rule.

Tyrol also was among the first regions to seriously feel the effect of economic decline caused by French hegemony and Napoleon's policies. Situated in the mountains, a huge portion of its wealth came through trade routes, that after 1806 gradually declined: The usual trading partner, the vast Habsburg empire, was shut off for the Tyroleans, and much smaller Bavaria simply could not provide the same options. Plus, a large part of international trade simply disappeared after Napoleon decreed the continental system.

(In the Bavarians's defense, they did see the problem but were unable (and in some points simply unwilling) to solve it. When Max Joseph in December 1807 took his whole family to Italy in order to meet Napoleon there, he did not only want to see his first grand-child and take the queen shopping and sightseeing in Venice (but that, too!) but also to negotiate a trade deal with Napoleon's kingdom of Italy (conveniently governed by Max's son-in-law, so basically a family business). However, at this point Napoleon had already lost interest in all trade that did not directly benefit France.)

And then there were in Tyrol all the additional holidays and pilgrimages for obscure local saints and lots of local customs regarding religious ceremonies, all the tiny monasteries and hermitages and wandering monks peope considered a regular part of true catholicism, all of which was gone with the stroke of a pen. Montgelas, Bavaria's de facto prime minister, had grown up in the era of enlightenment and did not take kindly to all kind of religious superstition. Needless to say, the bavarian officials in Tyrol and their revolutionary French friends were seen by locals as harbingers of the Antichrist, after the first three years of Bavarian rule already.

Austria's renewed interest in war in late 1808 was mostly caused by anxiety. After having seen how Napoleon had deposed of the Spanish Bourbons, the whole of Europe panicked, counted Napoleon's siblings and marshals and wondered how many countries were still needed for them and who would be dethroned next. It was archduke Johann (= Jean = John), very interested in liberal thinking, who came up with the idea to start a people's revolt in Tyrol, where people were extremely pissed at their new superiors already. The idea caused lots of controversy at the Austrian court. Calling the people to rise up against their legitimate ruler ... one just does not do that among monarchs. I guess it was considered a serious breach of etiquette. However, times were desperate. Johann was allowed to secretely conspire with some Tyroleans who had come to Vienna, among them famous Andreas Hofer.

Hofer was a well-respected trader and owner of an inn in the Alpes, also a devout catholic, and other than that apparently a friendly, honest and simple guy. Even his enemies agreed that he personally had done nothing dishonourable throughout the uprising, in a war that often saw similar brutalities as the guerilla war in Spain.

The Tyrolean uprising started at the same time as archduke Karl/Charles leading the Austrian main army into Bavaria and his brother Johann taking a second army into Italy in April 1809 (that latter army was the one that defeated Eugène's forces at Sacile), effectively hampering French/Bavarian communications. Austrian troops also marched in. The small Bavarian force at Innsbruck had to capitulate. Austrians and Tyroleans occupied the region and managed to kick out all remaining Bavarian troops and even to successfully raid parts of the region north of the Alps.

As for the course of that war, I'll just refer to the Wikipedia page. Basically, it was a back and forth, back and forth. When the Bavarians proved unable (and in some cases, like that of crown prince Ludwig, unwilling) to quench the revolt, Napoleon sent in French commanders, in particular marshal Lefebvre, in order to restore order. Lefebvre retook Innsbruck, the Tyrolean rebels retreated onto the mountains and into the valleys, and as soon as things seemed to have calmed down and parts of the troops had left, they returned and renewed the fight. There were no less than three battles at Bergisel (mountain at Innsbruck), all won by the rebels who time after time succeeded in reconquering town and country from the French, Bavarian and Rhinebund troops subsequently called in. After defeating Lefebvre himself in mid-August 1809, Andreas Hofer ruled for several months as a sort of unofficial governor in Innsbruck (and was soon enough out of his wits with that task but that’s a different story).

Meanwhile, in Austria, the battle of Wagram (July 6) had led to the armistice of Znaim. History books usually just state that the battle of Wagram decided the War of the Fifth Coalition but that’s not quite true. It took another three months until peace was negotiated, and emperor Franz opposed the negotiations for quite some time. During that time the Tyroleans were encouraged to continue their resistance; Hofer even received a golden necklace and a handwritten letter from his emperor, thanking him for his service and loyalty und promising that emperor Franz would never ever give up Tyrol to those godless Bavarian and French enemies!

It was for that reason that, when in mid-October the Peace of Schönbrunn once more gave Tyrol to the godless Bavarian and French enemies, nobody in Tyrol wanted to believe it. And so they didn’t. »Fake news!« Eugène, in charge of the southern half of the Tyrolean mess since November, had a proclamation published that promised amnesty to all those who laid down their weapons and threatened dire consequences to all who didn’t. Useless. The Tyroleans had their own newspaper in Innsbruck after all, and that paper had stated long ago that Napoleon had lost the war, been killed in a battle, fled to Paris on foot, caught the plague and whatever dark fate the writers could come up with. Eugène, as to him, had drowned in the Danube, if I remember correctly. (Those newspapers are a fun read!) Anyway, that guy surely was in no position to publish any proclamations right now, the Tyroleans knew that much!

The French and Bavarian troops now moved into Tyrol in force, while the Tyroleans, oblivious to the fact that the war was long over, stubbornly continued to fight.

It actually needed an aide-de-camp of Eugène’s, on his way north to deliver letters to king Max Joseph and crown prince Ludwig, to be taken prisoner by some rebels, to finally change that. A priest who a) could read and b) spoke French (both rare among the rebel forces) understood the importance of these letters that all spoke of the peace as a fact, and managed to convince Hofer of their authenticity. Hofer, at this point truely worn-out by the useless fight and the responsibility that had been burdened on him and probably doing some heavy drinking, sent this priest and one of his officers to Eugène in order to conduct an armistice. (That was the occasion when Eugène’s entourage had so much fun listening to the priest’s tales of the latest Bergisel battle.)

However, while these negotiations were going on, some of the other rebel leaders managed to convince Hofer to go back on his word and to continue the fight, mostly using religion as an argument. So there was a fourth battle at Bergisel, but by now, most rebels had indeed convinced themselves that further resistance was useless, and those who still showed up were easily beaten. The Tyrolean uprising was mostly over. Hofer himself was not even at the last battle, by then he must have been a broken man.

He fled, mid-winter, up into a small mountain cabin, where he hid until January, when somebody told French authorities of his whereabouts. He was captured, brought to Mantua, and shot on explicit orders by Napoleon in February.

Tyrol, by the way, was then divided, the (more lucrative) southern half added to the kingdom of Italy, while the northern half was returned to Bavaria (it returned to Austria after Napoleon’s fall, and I don’t think the Bavarians, as much as they had wanted the region before, at this point still held many regrets 😜).

[arahul-abyssia]

To Mend What's Been Broken

And thus is my third story for @starprincesshlc and @jklantern 's Nintember celebration! (Coming a day late because of Various Reasons.) I have written about Emotions! Again! So we're three for three on that front! I have also accidentally mirrored Me-From-One-Year-Ago and once again made Story 3 only a bit shorter than the combined lengths of Stories 1 and 2.

Also, this story is very much a direct sequel to one of the stories from last year, specifically the only one I haven't mentioned in this post yet. This one should be >83% understandable if you haven't read part 1, but still, here's a link to it! (Please let me know if the link doesn't work, I know Tumblr tends to hate links.)

~~ Craft, Bug, Beach, Anger, Family ~~

Rynn looked to the sky, the noonday sun shining down upon the beach. It was far warmer in the coastal Lurelin Village than he was used to back in his mountainous home, and the still-smoldering charcoal from the previous night’s bonfire was not helping matters. Fortunately, he would soon be headed far away from the blazing warmth of the sands; unfortunately, however…

“Well, Rynn! You’re looking much better than yesterday; is your wing fully healed, are you ready to fly back?”

Rynn did not turn to look at his father. “Doctor Faldea examined me earlier, says the healing potion took effect and my wing is ‘good as new’. But--”

“Excellent! Then as soon as Director Nokoss finishes up the communications with the Lab, we’ll take off!”

His father had interjected as soon as he heard what he wanted, and cut him off. Again. This had a tendency to happen whenever he had his mind made up about something, and Rynn felt like he did so even more when the topic of flight, specifically of Rynn finally taking flight, came up.

Though both of them never said it, he could feel a level of disappointment from them, disappointment in him for failing his Trial of Flight the previous day, as if they had expected him to avoid a storm that came out of nowhere or a large Sheikah device hurtling directly toward him. They acknowledged those were unforeseen circumstances, but yet, he still felt like they blamed part of the failure on him.

“Alright, I just finished the meeting with the Hateno Tech Lab.” Both Rynn and his father turned toward the flight director, who seemed to have come from the center of the village and was wearing a very clear look of annoyance, little though the difference was from his usual expression. “To make a long story short, they thought their airborne Weather Formation Machines consistently hovered far above Rito flight height and will look into what went wrong. Somehow, they didn’t consider communicating with us about what regions to keep clear on certain days, but I will be kept in the loop going forward. Regardless, they aren’t experimenting in Faron today or in the near future, so we should have no trouble getting back or setting a new date for the trial.”

“Well, that’s all good to hear! Wouldn’t you agree, Rynn?” His father had turned to look at him, but Rynn had lost himself in thought, doubt, and fear again, and he had to say his son’s name several times more before he was shaken back to attention.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, that’s great, I guess…”

“Right… I’ve programmed the Updraft Device to send all three of us high enough to catch the winds back over the jungle. If you both are ready, I’d like to head back as soon as possible.”

Rynn’s father gave a nod, which the flight director seemed to take as confirmation from them both, and motioned for them to take certain positions as he brought out the same angular Sheikah device from the day prior and began fiddling with it. Rynn, however, was hardly paying attention, once more dreading having to fly. When he was with others, it was easier to focus on things that weren’t the void he was staring in the face, but after the disastrous events of the previous day, the prospect was even more frightening than usual. Yet, he knew that nothing he could do or say would convince either of them to find an alternate way home, so he instead attempted to swallow the fear and prepare to take wing.

“On my mark. Three… Two… One… Fly.”

Director Nokoss activated the device, creating a massive updraft beneath the talons of all three Rito, which quickly caught their wings and brought them far above the land. It was all Rynn could do to focus on the forms of his father and director instead of anything and everything else, as they adjusted to follow a westward--and quite rapid--wind and thus began the journey back toward Whistling Hill.

The last rays of sunlight were fading as they reached their destination, though the stable lights seemed to be shining even brighter than usual. In tandem, Rynn’s father and the trial director adjusted and descended, and Rynn followed suit as best he could. The flight had taken a toll on his nerves, further throwing off his balance, and as the other two Rito made graceful landings upon the hill’s peak, he came in too fast, failed to catch the grass properly, and stumbled briefly with the momentum before falling onto his face. Though the ground was dry, it reminded him all too much of how he woke up after falling from his trial the day prior.

“Hm. Your landing could use some work. Remember: lead with your talons, not your torso.” Director Nokoss remarked.

“...Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind…” Rynn mumbled through gritted teeth. Comments about his flying and anything related to it were just about the last thing he needed at that moment.

“Well, now that we’ve got those unforeseen circumstances out of the way…” the director continued as Rynn pushed himself upright. “We ought to take a moment to set the trial’s new date, preferably within the next several days, so we can avoid having to plan around the Labs.”

Rynn froze.

“Ah, good idea, Director!” said his father. “What do you say, Rynn? Take tomorrow to recover and complete the trial the day after?”

“No…” said Rynn, his voice only a low murmur.

“Oh, that fall must really have knocked it out of you, huh? How long do you need? Three days? Four?”

“...No…” he said again, his voice barely a whisper. His whole body was beginning to shudder.

“‘No’? Rynn, I don’t understand; we can’t wait too long… You have to complete your trial of fli--”

Something snapped.

“No!! You don’t understand! You don’t ever listen to what I say, you don’t ever pay attention to how I feel. Why can’t you understand that I. Hate. Flying?!”

Without waiting for any manner of response or reaction, he turned and ran down the hill as fast as his legs would carry him, ignoring the shouts from behind as tears began to well in his eyes. He didn’t know where he was going, all he knew was that he wanted to be far, far away from his father, and the director, and any others who wouldn’t see his struggle, and if that meant disappearing into the night, so would it be.

After a while, enough for dusk to have given way to twilight, Rynn slowed his pace in order to catch his breath. He looked around and found himself in what appeared to be one of the many, many century-old ruins that littered the land. Not wanting to leave himself exposed to the night, he quickly located and crawled into a small, mostly-intact room in one of the dilapidated buildings, over the mound of rubble that occupied what was likely once its doorway. The moonlight illuminated enough of the space for him to find his way to a wall and finally, for the first time in what felt like ages, try to relax his shaking, adrenaline-charged body.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to sit there through the night; that was plainly a terrible idea. But he needed space and time--to think and to focus and to get away from people who wouldn’t and couldn’t understand him--and he would not find those back at the Riverside Stable, not with his overzealous father and impatient flight director.

Though now that he had finally sat down and begun to calm his jittery nerves, he realized how exhausted he was, having spent almost the entire day fretting, flying, fighting, or fleeing. A dull soreness all over his body pleaded with him to stop moving, and though some part of him screamed to resist the pull, he felt his vision begin to fade…

…

“Hey, sleepyhead!”

Tevara’s bright voice cut through his drowsing like an arrow-shot. Rynn glanced up to see her smiling face gazing at him from the other end of the rubble, illuminated by the moon and the flame of the torch she was holding.

“Oh… hello, Tevara.”

“It’s been a bit over an hour, Rynn. Are you ready to come back yet? We…” She trailed off, her tone shifting as she seemingly noticed his expression and posture and silenced some quip she had planned to make.

Was he ready to go back? He knew, in the back of his mind, that he had already spent far too long away from civilization, but he had fallen asleep instead of processing his thoughts like he had wanted, and if he went back now, they’d still be tangled and writhing, and he didn’t really even want to look at his father or the trial director until he knew what to say.

Not hearing a response, Tevara spoke again, her voice now much softer. “I’m… really glad you're safe, Rynn. I feared the worst when we heard what had happened, and then when we came out to welcome you back, we heard your outburst and saw you running away… well, the night can be dangerous, especially when you’re alone.”

Rynn let the silence hang between them as he took in her words, then, after a few moments, spoke. “How did you find me before my father did? I thought he would have taken to the skies to try to trail me… him or Director Nokoss… or both…”

“That would be because I stopped them.” Rynn jumped slightly as another voice, the kindly and warm tone of Tevara’s mother Burnora, sounded from behind his friend. She stepped aside as the tall woman bent down to peer past the rubble pile as well, her scarlet-red hair joining her daughter’s and the torchlight in obscuring the opening in flame. “They both wanted to pursue you immediately, but I managed to convince them to wait for a while, and let us try to find you and bring you back first.”

“She grabbed them by the talons to force them back to the ground and calmly threatened to break their wings if they didn’t listen.” Tevara interjected, with her mouth turned up ever so slightly in a mischievous smirk. Rynn felt himself smile slightly, though he doubted either of them could see it.

“Rynn, I’ve known your father almost as long as you’ve known my daughter, and you’re right: he does often fail to listen, especially when he’s got his mind set on something. And up until an hour ago, he was set on you being able to be like him: Mevulo, one of the greatest fliers of our day, recognized by Master Teba himself.”

“So, what? He just… changed, suddenly? Suddenly he saw things differently?”

“You’ll have to talk to him yourself to see, young voe. For all his… idiosyncrasies, he truly does love you and want you to be happy, and… whether or not he would have listened to you before, he will listen now. I ma-- I’m sure of it.”

Rynn went silent once more, once again weighing his options. He wasn’t truly entirely ready to confront his father, but he also had a sneaking suspicion that, if he didn’t at least attempt to talk to him, he would never be ready. Slowly, he brought himself away from the wall and climbed out of the room--I swear it wasn’t this small when I entered--bringing himself back to his full height and stretching his limbs.

Tevara looked as though she wanted to hug him, but seemed to be resisting the urge, knowing how he felt about being touched. “Right, let’s head back! The night’s great and all, but it’s starting to get a bit chilly for what I’m wearing.”

The hike back to the stable passed without incident, and the three split ways at the entrance to its inn, Tevara and Burnora heading inside while Rynn went to meet his father at one of the campfire circles nearby.

“We’ll be here if you need us, Rynn,” said Tevara, “just… please don’t go running off again if things go south, okay?”

“I… I won’t. Thank you, both of you.”

They nodded as he turned and walked, slowly but firmly, toward where his father was sitting. He had been watching them from the moment they had returned, and upon being approached, leaped up from the log. Rynn was acutely aware of his father’s limbs twitching oddly and his posture being slightly off; it was clear that he, too, wanted to embrace him, but was trying to give him his space--it was one of the few things he had ever completely listened to Rynn about--and besides that was overall somewhat uncomfortable with and hesitant about the situation. It was a state that Rynn could not recall ever seeing his father in. A dark piece of his mind wanted to relish in that, fancying it a comeuppance for the discomfort he had had to endure; he quickly quelled it as best he could.

“Welcome back, Rynn… are you alright? Didn’t get hurt again out there?”

“I’m fine… could be better, but… fine.”

“Good…” His father’s expression shifted slightly, as if he wasn’t sure whether to prolong the pleasantries or get to the point, before he let out a quiet breath and settled upon the latter. “So… I never realized that you… you hated flying…”

This was obvious and unsurprising, but it still stirred Rynn’s frustration once more. “Really? You never once noticed how nervous I was whenever the topic of flying came up? The number of times I tried to avoid all the flight training? The fact that I never once expressed interest in flying, unlike literally every other Rito ever?”

“I…” he seemed to want to protest, or justify himself somehow, but… “No. I honestly, truly didn’t. Could you… perhaps elaborate? So I can… ‘understand’?”

“And you’ll listen? You won’t jump in or interrupt until I’m clearly finished speaking?” Rynn attempted to keep the malice out of his voice, but some managed to manifest anyway.

His father appeared to wince slightly, mumbling something to himself, before nodding. “Yes. I will wait, utterly silent, for you to say what you need to say.”

Rynn nodded, much more slowly, then took a deep breath, attempting to resist the stinging in the corners of his eyes. “Flying… it scares me…! I know it’s a cruel paradox, a Rito who’s afraid of flight, but... It doesn’t feel freeing, or exhilarating… it feels like I’m trapped in an uncaring and unforgiving void, and if anything goes wrong, I’ll plummet to the earth, desperately hoping that I can somehow slow the fall and mitigate the inevitable pain. There’s no ground, no cliffs, to support me or allow me to catch myself from the fall. That’s terrifying! Even the thought of it makes my mouth dry out and fills my stomach with butterflies, to say nothing of what it’s like actually doing it…! And then… and then…”--the tears had begun to flow, and he no longer cared to stop them--“And then, when my worst fears came true, and I tumbled from the sky and woke up lost in the jungle, alone, with a battered body and a broken wing, it was only by luck that I was rescued. And immediately after the damage was healed, you had me fly all the way back. These past two days have easily been the worst of my life, and you didn’t notice at all! For so long, you’ve constantly pushed me toward these lofty aims, but you never asked how I felt about them, about what I wanted to do.”

Another bout of silence hovered between them, as Rynn’s father considered his words and Rynn tried to calm his rapidly beating heart.

“And you… never tried to talk to me about this? If it… if it’s been affecting you this badly all this time?” His voice was sympathetic and concerned, with not even the slightest trace of accusation.

“I wanted to, and I really did try to! But every time I try to talk to you about something important, it feels like you’re always focused on something else, or so intent upon whatever you’ve set your mind on that you cut me off before I can say it. It’s been happening for so long now, that I’ve pretty much just… mostly stopped trying.”

Rynn was left almost breathless, having said much with more force than he had meant to. He collapsed upon the log opposite his father, trying to focus on anything else that might help to alleviate the anger and onslaught of unrestrained emotions that were rapidly taking a toll on his little remaining energy: the blades of grass beneath his talons, the way the breeze rippled through them and the way the firelight danced across them, the way they both cooled and warmed his ruffled feathers and strained limbs, or even the miniscule creatures that he couldn’t see for the dim glow, but knew were present all the same. ...Nothing truly seemed to help, and whether his father was waiting for any further word from Rynn or taking a remarkable amount of time to take in what he said, the silence between them was quickly approaching deafening.

Eventually, though he finally spoke. “Rynn, when… when you ran away, and Burnora stopped us from pursuing you, I was… confused, perhaps shocked… I didn’t understand why you did what you did, or why you felt what you felt. But then, she… said some of the same things that you did, in that way she always does. ...And it’s true: I always have struggled with letting others fully finish before jumping in, or taking notice of the states of others if I’m really focused elsewhere. It’s something I thought I was getting better about, but… it seems that, for this whole ordeal, at least, I wasn’t. I thought I knew what you wanted, how you felt, but… I was wrong, and I never did ask you, not truly. Flying is important to me, and I guess something in me made me feel as though you must as well.”

He paused again. It was odd to hear such explanations laid plainly from his father, but at the same time, with these admissions of fault, Rynn began to feel as though some weight were slowly being lifted from him.

“But you’re my son, not my clone; you don’t have to be exactly like me. I… I hate to see you like this, Rynn…! I hate that I made you feel like this. You shouldn’t feel like you can’t communicate with me, you shouldn’t feel pressured to do things that make you this viscerally uncomfortable, certainly not by me of all people. ...I wanted to be the best father and guide I could be to you. But I see now that I wasn’t. So… for all of this; for not listening, for making undue assumptions, for distressing you so… I want to apologize: I’m sorry, Rynn.”

Once more, something snapped. Not like the first time, like a branch being loudly split in twain, but rather like the resounding clicks of something finally falling into place. For the first time in far too long, a genuine, if shaky, smile crawled onto his face; not a smile of peace or contentment, but a smile formed out of a much-awaited lifting of weight and tension, of a catharsis long-overdue.

He lifted his head, finally looking directly into his father’s eyes again, difficult though they were to see through the fresh wave of tears. “I… I… ...thank you, Dad.”

A matching expression formed in his face, a clear relief passing over and through his body. “No, thank you, Rynn, for helping me to finally see you. I promise, on my honor as a Rito, a Hyrulean, and someone who you should be able to trust, that from this point forward, I’ll do all I can to make sure that nothing like this ever has to happen again.”

Rynn stood. His father’s form was again held in that odd and subtle-but-evident way that indicated a repressed intent to embrace, which he only now had a greater appreciation for.

“Now, it’s later than any of us should be up. Don’t worry about Director Nokoss: he left a bit ago, something about having ‘other obligations’. We can figure out what to do next--for everything and anything--in the morning. For now, though, I think you deserve to get some proper rest.”

Without a word, Rynn nodded, turned, and headed toward the stable’s inn. There was still much to think about, much to talk about, and there were some parts of it that he couldn’t say he was looking forward to, but for the time being, he felt lighter than he had in a long while, almost as if he was, then and there, without fear or doubt or fright or dread, flying.

[whoistheasshole]

Why do I get yelled at when other people behave like dillweeds?

Anonymous asks: what to do when people vent their anger on me. is it because i am the quiet one in the family or maybe i am the easy target???? cause they did that to me instead of calling out the one who creates the problem

Hi there,

I am not sure if you mean „complain to me about other people/family members“ only or „lash out at me when they are angry at somebody else“ also. Therefore I will try to cover several bases.

Generally, venting can serve a social function where you go to a third party to blow off steam and come back to the original offender more level-headed and constructive. In this way it can be a healthy tool of de-escalation – instead of having a hot-headed debate and just riling each other up, you talk to somebody else to work through the problem and come back with some fresh ideas.

If you vent in this way, you will get a better understanding if you were overreacting or should stand your ground. It can be necessary support to hold firm when you are in fact right.

Of course, all this counts on the fact the everybody involved is a willing participant.

If somebody vents excessively, without the consent of the target or worst, blows up at somebody else because they cannot blow up at the original offender, the venter may still feel relief, but the ventee is drawing the short end of the social stick, so to speak.

It sounds like you are in the latter scenario.

As to the why – I don’t know where it originated, but there’s this story about the boss yelling at the male employee, the employee coming home and yelling at his wife, the wife yelling at the kid and the kid yelling at the dog. The dog then probably gets a stress ulcer and starts chewing up shoes. As this short, though heteronormative, image shows: Everybody is finding somebody else with less power to vent their anger that they are not able to direct back at the aggressor. In real life, it is not always that simple because human connections and power structures are complex (and not like a white US TV commercial from the 50s), but the general dynamic holds true: If people are not able or willing to re-create their equilibrium by fighting right back at the (verbal) attacker, they will find other means to do so. The means do not have to be interpersonal – a lot of people are internalizers and turn the stress inward, getting the aforementioned stress illnesses instead. Or they try to cope with the situation and turn to an advice column. Just as an example. But generally, if you have a group of people–friends, hobby groups, work, family–unwritten social dynamics will always be at play that direct, among other things, who dares talk back to whom, who will stand by and look, who will try to get out of the line of fire, who tends to get blamed and so forth.

Long story short: Through the unique mix of power structures and personalities in your family, you are where you are now. You identified that you would like it to change and need some ammunition to do so. Fortunately, I do have some strategies for you.

First: If there are no safety issues at play, direct is always best. That doesn’t mean spontaneous. You can rehearse what you want to say or talk through it with friends or alone in front of a mirror–rehearsal can be crucial. But it’s absolutely okay and within your power (again, if safe) to speak up about your boundaries and needs. Find a short script that feels right and appropriate for the situation and tell the venter. You might want different scripts for when they are ready to have their next feelings barf versus talking to them in a quiet minute to re-set the dynamic. E.g. „Hey X, I realize Y topic is weighing heavily on you right now, but I’m kind of at my limit talking it through, so I’d like to focus on other topics. I hope you work it out!“

The last part is your friend, by the way, redirecting them to action. It can be used beautifully with incorrigible venters to make it very boring/unhelpful to talk to you. You have to be persistent though, these kind of dynamics are not changed in a day.

„That sounds tough, well I hope you work it out!“ / „Oh. What are you going to do about it?“ / „I see. What do you plan on doing now?“ / „I see that you are quite upset right now so I will give you some space. Feel better!“ and move away. (Read the last one from a Captain Akward commenter and I am still in love.)

What you want to do is:

1) Make it boring. Ever heard that active listening is important? Not here. Here you want to be the least enthused and most unhelpful listener that has ever graced the earth. Short words are your friend, said in a completely neutral tone: „Oh.“ / „I see.“ / „Hu.“ / „Hm.“ If you need some more pointers, look up „Grey rock method“. Fiddle with your phone, get up to do the laundry, have something at the ready that you need to start doing now which means you need to move physically away/make some loud noise. Potentially something that the other person approves of, or at least has no good reason to argue back against. „That sounds tough. I wish I could help, but I really need to get started on my applications. Catch you later!“

2) Never under any circumstances offer your opinion on the situation and especially not on what the other person should do. They might try to make you solve their problems or alternatively, shoot everything down that you suggest, which is also frustrating. If you have the urge to say something or are unsure how to continue the conversation without saying what you think, try silence. Few things are more effective in a conversation than silence. Maybe a small „Hmm“ or other thinking noises, if you must. If asked directly, you can also use „That’s a tough one, no idea off the top of my head.“ / „Honestly, I don’t know. What do you think?“ / „Beats me.“ You can say it sympathetically and remorsefully, but the more monosyllabic and flat you can be, the better.

3) Redirect them to figure it out themselves. See above: „Oh. What are you going to do about it?“ / „I see. What do you plan on doing now?“ It doesn’t mean they ever will. They might actually leave in a huff, but that’s a success. We cannot make other people do things, we can only control what we do ourselves. And if Dr. Vent 3000 bothers somebody else next time, well, success. Some people will have the gall to say „Well, you are not very helpful today.“ Take it as a badge of honor, don’t try to convince them otherwise, you are the grey rock. „Yeah, I’m not creative today.“ / „I’m all out of ideas.“ *shrug*

Family dynamics can make this list of strategies a little less helpful because you are in close quarters more often (I assume) and you cannot avoid the offender as easily, therefore definitely weigh how direct you can be with the person. If you don’t expect serious repercussions, it’s fine to say „Hey, I’m not involved with this and don’t want to be.“ / „Sounds like you need to sort this out with X.“  /„I don’t want to be in the middle of this, please take it up with X.“ / „Frankly, I don’t enjoy these conversations. What about topic change?“ and the all time classics of telling them about other things you need to do now and leaving.

When people put us in a weird position, the anger we feel at the mistreatment can make us blind to the options that are actually at our disposal. It is possible that you can only use few things of what I suggested, but make sure to stop and make an inventory of things that you can do because they are in your power. Feeling stuck and powerless can be the worst thing about this kind of situation and the antidote is identifying what you can do.

P.S.: Don’t get drawn into the losing battle of making the original offender behave (the person who upset the venter). It doesn’t sound like you’re the parent/authority figure in this scenario, so all you need to do is treat people who deserve it kindly and state your own boundaries when they are crossed.

[beyondconfessor]

Principle Decisions [1/24]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lilith/Zelda Spellman

Summary: Zelda couldn’t look away from the words as she touched over the embossed typography.

Lilith

Dominatrix

N.B.: Also posted on AO3. This is pure fantasy, please suspend your disbelief. 

She fingered the card, drawing her nail over its edges. It had an entirely over the top design, with a bright red background and black lettering. Despite how over-the-top she felt the graphic design was, Zelda couldn’t look away from the words as she touched over the embossed typography.

Lilith

Dominatrix

As if it had burned her, she dropped the card on her desk. On its back, the card presented the phone number and email address of the woman. Terribly gauche: madamsatan@hellfire.com.

The business card––if you could even call it that––had been slipped out of the jacket of a new book she’d purchased, and since her discovery of it, Zelda’s eyes had been drawn to it, a strange temptation pulling at her.

She’d only bought the book as a way to offer an olive branch to Hilda. If her sister weren’t so terribly awkward around any mention of sex, she would have wondered if she had been the one to slip the card into the book. No, likely the so-called dominatrix had wandered through the shop and decided that the newest bestseller would be an excellent place to advertise her business.

The sheer gall of the woman.

It had been some time since she’d engaged in any sexual relationship. Since Edward’s passing, Zelda’s world had been entirely taken up with raising Sabrina. Hilda had helped, of course, given that she was the original caretaker of Ambrose––but the bulk of Sabrina’s raising rested on her shoulders. Between that and balancing her work at the Academy, Zelda had little time to date.

And in the few times, she did date she would inevitably end up exhausted by the need to care for someone’s emotional needs on top of her family and usually wound up requesting that they never see each other again.

At least if she engaged with a sex worker, she wouldn’t have that issue.

A knock came at the door of her office, pulling her from her thoughts.

“One moment,” Zelda said, before taking the card and hastily set in the drawer of her desk. She should throw it away into the wastepaper bin, tear it up into pieces, and yet she found herself pushing the drawer shut, feeling a strange temptation dim but not entirely die away. “Come in,” she called.

The door pushed open, and her niece stood in the doorframe, bag slung over her shoulder as she stepped into the room. “How was work?”

“Busy,” Zelda sighed, rising from her chair. “How was school?”

“Fine.��

“Nothing happened, today?” Zelda inquired.

“Well,” Sabrina began, bouncing on the heels of her shoes. “Principle Wardwell did go on a warpath against Coach Craven. That was pretty cool.”

“Wardwell? Isn’t Hawthorne the principle there?”

“No, he left over Summer. It was in the news bulletin.”

Zelda rolled her eyes as if she cared to read that. The PTA and Parent-Teacher nights had always been Hilda’s realm of experience. There were limited choices of schooling in the area, and Baxter High had more students going off college than Riverdale. And like hell, she was sending Sabrina off to some boarding school as her parents had done with her, Edward and Hilda.

Collecting her day planner and unmarked essays, she began sliding them into her bag as she asked, “so why did your new Principle go on an alleged war party?”

“Craven said that Theo couldn’t join the men’s football team. So Roz and I complained to Wardwell, and she stormed off and immediately told him off in the middle of try-outs. It was…pretty awesome actually.”

“It’s definitely a way to make enemies,” Zelda said. “Take it from me, Sabrina. Public humiliation may force someone to obey for the moment, but they’ll look for any opportunity to enact their revenge.”

Sabrina’s lips pressed shut, her excitement dying. “I thought it was pretty great, actually. He should be called out for his actions.”

“And the best place to do that is in a formal setting,” Zelda said as she switched off the office light. Stepping into the hall, she drew the door shut and locked the door. “In a position of leadership, especially one so newly forged, it’s better to think about the long term effects of a stable work environment. Sowing discord will only turn the other teachers against her.”

“Well, the students love her,” Sabrina pointed out defiantly, missing the point.

With a sigh, Zelda drew up and rolled her shoulders. Her niece was sixteen, thinking the whole world revolved around her. Students came and went, but the teachers would remain, and if Principle Wardwell wanted to keep her job, it would be in her interest to make friends with the staff.

“How did your classes go?” she asked, deferring to a safe topic as they walked out of the university’s grounds to the parking lot. Sabrina began babbling beside her, discussing her recent marks in English and History, the study group she’d formed and then quietly toeing away from discussion of one particular class.

“Didn’t you have an exam for French today?”

Sabrina flushed, fiddling with her bag. “I…passed.”

Zelda paused, turning to look at her niece directly. “Define a pass.”

“C plus?”

Zelda bit back the flared anger as she pressed her lips together, watching as Sabrina squirmed under her scrutiny. “Perhaps I should switch to speaking French at home, then?”

“No, I hate it when you do that. Look, it barely makes up my grade, I’ll fix it up with the essay at the end of the month, and then I’ll be back to being an A-minus student.”

“Yes, well, unless you want your allowance to drop—“

“Come on! That’s hardly fair. It’s not like we live in France. I don’t even see the point in why I have to take this stupid class. ”

“Language is important, Sabrina. When you travel, you can’t just go around assuming everyone speaks English. By your age, I already spoke Italian and French fluently. By my twenties, I’d learnt Mandarin, German and Latin. Now, there are few languages that I don’t speak in one dialect or another.”

“I know, but…I don’t even know if I want to travel.”

“Of course you do,” Zelda said. “Everyone travels, or you’ll end up like your Aunt Hilda, working in a bookshop with no idea of how the world works.”

Sabrina went quiet as they arrived at the car. She climbed into the passenger seat, drawing her bag into her lap and buckled her seatbelt with a stony face.

Zelda drew in a breath, setting her own bag on the backseat before sitting down into the driver’s seat. Sabrina had always been soft for Hilda, defending her against Zelda any time she made a sniping comment towards her.

Perhaps the comment had been a little harsh. Only last night had the three of them broke out in an argument after Hilda advised that she would be permanently working at Cerberus Books and not just ‘helping out’ as she initially advised. Honestly, a retail assistant? Hilda had as fine an education as she had, and now Zelda was an academic, teaching at Greendale University, and Hilda…worked in a bookshop.

Not to mention the sudden talks of her moving out. Ambrose was still at university, in his final year of his masters, and Sabrina still had another year and a half before she was off, flying around the world before she settled on a college.

Leave? Unlikely. It was an empty threat Hilda proposed to hurt her.

They drove home in silence, with Sabrina’s growing bad mood taking up the space of the car. By the time that they arrived home. Sabrina didn’t even wait for the engine to switch off before she was unbuckling her seatbelt and running up the steps of the house.

Zelda paused, watching her niece push open the front door, likely to remain hidden in her room until summoned for dinner. She considered following up the stairs to Sabrina’s room and advising of how unacceptable her actions were, and yet the day felt heavy on her shoulders. She didn’t want another argument with Sabrina.

She didn’t want another argument. If Hilda would stop being so selfish, they could actually take the time to raise the children.

Stepping out of the car, she pulled out her bag from the backseat and then locked the doors behind her––not that it really mattered, they were so far out from any neighbours that there was a more pressing concern for a bear to get into the car, rather than a burglar.

She passed Ambrose sitting on the veranda, a book of poetry in grip and a glass of wine sitting next to him (in a tumbler, which she did take offence to, they owned perfectly suitable wine glasses).

“Auntie,” he greeted, looking up from the book. “How fairs the undergrads?”

“Fine,” she remarked. “I had the pleasure of seeing Prudence today.”

“Oh?” he remarked casually. “I had thought she’d have dropped out by now.”

“She asked about you.”

Ambrose seemed to pause, biting on the inside of his cheek before he gave a strained smile. “And should I go running into her arms again because she inquired as to how I was going?”

Zelda stared at him and watched as his face flushed with embarrassment.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

“Don’t apologise when you don’t mean it, or learn to lie better.” She paused, watching guilt wash over his face. “You should speak to her. At the very least it might bring you the much-needed closure you require to move on.” Before he could say anything further, she brushed past him, entering into the foyer of the home.

A door slammed upstairs, signalling her niece’s growing foul mood. But unlike Ambrose, who often drowned the house with music to signal his moods, a stillness followed the slammed door.

Her eyes drew up to the stairs, a part of her wanted to seek out Sabrina and apologise before she snuffed out the very desire to do so. Instead, she drew to her home office and set her bag down, drawing out her computer and essays, preparing herself for evening work to be completed after dinner.

Drawing into the kitchen, she noticed that Hilda was already at the stove, stirring around what looked to be onion and mince. At the same time, she had an assortment of diced vegetables running on another element beside it.

“Evening, sister.”

“Oh! Zelds. I thought it was you.”

“Who else would it be?” she asked, going to the cupboards to pull out the dishes. Usually, it was Sabrina’s job to set the table for dinner, but she could wash up and dry the dishes after dinner, given her impetuous mood.

“Oh, well…” Hilda spluttered, before turning to look over her shoulder. “So, what did you think of Doctor Cee’s little shop? Quite the business, hm? And the café has been busy of late!”

Zelda bit her tongue to stop the first thoughts she had from coming out. She set down the plates before looking at her sister and catching the hesitation.

“It’s…good that you’re happy,” she said, feeling other words rise in the back of her throat. She swallowed them back and smiled at her sister, hoping it came across genuine enough.

Hilda returned the smile, and it was enough to unknot the growing anxiety in her chest. Perhaps they could make it through dinner without another argument.  “And have you given the book a look, yet? It’s flying out of the store lately. A real page-turner.”

Zelda gave a small nod. She’d got as far as the first page before the card had slid out onto her desk.

Swallowing, she tucked a wayward curl behind her ear, trying to not think of the words.

Dominatrix. She shivered, remembering what it was like to feel rope twist around her hands.

In her early twenties, she’d engaged in an assortment of different forms of BDSM with different partners, both on the receiving and giving end. And yet something about that embossed lettering brought a flicker to a long lost flame inside of her.

It had been…a long time—at least two years since she’d engaged in anything other than masturbation. The dating pool in Greendale and Riverdale was small enough that, inevitably, everyone knew everyone––and given her position, casual sex would only lead to complications. The last thing she needed was another man at her office, begging for a date.

Or a woman leading insistent voicemails on the landline.

But a dominatrix would be discreet. And it would just be an itch, after all.

A part of her worried. It could be a student she’d taught, trying to make extra money to pay for their education. Or it could be a number of acquaintances––someone from the board?

It could be Shirley. That thought sent a cold feeling down her spine.

“Zelds?”

She looked up, realising her sister had asked her a question. “Pardon?”

“I was just asking if you started the book.”

“Oh, just the first few pages. I’ll get to it on the weekend.”

Hilda squinted at her before stepping forward. “You’re looking a little flushed. You’re not coming down with the flu, are you? You’re always working yourself sick.”

“I’m fine,” she said, stepping away from her sister. “I’ll go tell Ambrose and Sabrina to wash-up, shall I?”

“Oh, yes, I suppose dinner will be made in a moment.”

____________

[abybweisse]

@gkrosental Oh, I’ve blogged about this before, but it’s split between various posts. So, it might be hard to find. You can check my blog, though, for #advanced technology, #medical technology, #technological advances, #medical advances, #reaper technology, etc. Oh... and stuff like #george and #giygas....

For one thing, that’s not Sebastian’s mobile; it’s the one Vanel’s thugs have. He just takes it from one of them to talk to Vanel.

The other thing is that modern technology shows up in the manga quite frequently, and Yana-san explained once that it’s an alternate universe to begin with, and these things are, therefore, only... slightly anachronistic. Let’s not forget that our earl has some kind of television; it’s been vaguely mentioned by our earl and Finny, and much more directly mentioned by Soma. Funny thing about the TV is that our earl must not be the only one to have one, since John Brown mentions the same TV program to the crowd at the Crystal Palace; he promotes the rumor that the show is based on Queen Victoria! But yeah... some of them are definitely still anachronistic, even for the Kuroverse.

The reapers (and their superiors) have advanced technology. We know this for a fact; even ages ago, when Othello was newer to the reaper organization, he’s seen carrying around a box of computer parts, like a keyboard. Othello says that humans can get ahold of such knowledge through demon contracts, etc. Even though Sebastian hasn’t been told (that we know of) to “invent stuff for me” by our earl, we can pretty well assume that Funtom’s innovative toys come from a combination of our earl’s imagination and Sebastian’s demonic abilities. Funtom is best known for its Bitter Rabbits and candies, but they also sell video game consoles... with game controllers connected by wires. Indeed, Funtom sells a few things that you’d only expect the reapers to have. But it doesn’t end with Funtom, not even regarding video games. How else would Chlaus show up in ch1 with that game cartridge packaging for “Mouse3”? It was actually full of the drug evidence he’d brought back from Italy... but the packaging is probably legit.

I suspect that reapers, like Undertaker, also have an effect on the advancements that humans make... accelerating the process of innovation. Those dialysis machines are a perfect example. I’m not sure yet who actually built them. Perhaps Druitt, since he has a medical license? And because Undertaker saved him on the Campania for REASONS...?

At one point, during the murders arc, Charles Grey makes a comment that Germany’s about ten years ahead of where it should be; I’m not sure how he learned that (perhaps from John Brown?!?), but this means that the Kuroverse is dealing with an accelerated timeline for its technological advances. Characters like Grey and Othello acknowledge something is amiss. But, it’s complicated why it’s happening. Germany might have some reaper or demon/angel intervention, too, but they also have/had prodigies, like Sieglinde Sullivan. She managed something her parents, with all their learning and training, had failed to do. SuLin was the result. Idk how they got the rest of the advanced technology they are using, like radar and tanks. Divine intervention? Other geniuses? Since coming to Great Britain, Sieglinde has continued to shock and amaze with her latest inventions... which seem to be financially backed by the queen....

The reason I mentioned #george and #giygas is because of my main theory regarding Black Butler... that’s it’s largely based on a Nintendo game called Mother3. I mean, that’s what “Mouse3” by “Ninkyodo” refers to, after all. But, as I’ve said in many of my posts about this, it’s not just Mother3 being used for the manga series; it’s the entire game series. And this topic is one of those situations that requires going all the way back to the first installment: Mother. In the US, it was titled EarthBound: Beginnings.

In Mother, a young alien, named Giygas (the translation varies, but this is one of the common ones), is traveling from their home planet, populated by this technologically advanced civilization. Their spacecraft crash lands on Earth and they are taken in by a couple, named George and Maria. They raise them as their own, and they later manage to travel with Giygas back towards their home planet, and Maria stays there... but George returns to Earth... with stolen technology, which he continues to research... and spreads around to other humans. Giygas is sent by their superiors to stop George, because the alien race is worried that humans will eventually use their own technology against them. However, George has died by the time Giygas returns to Earth, so they decide to target George’s descendants. Humans have started to incorporate the knowledge that George brought back; it’s even showing up in some humans’ natural abilities, as if it’s being genetically inherited. We meet one of those descendants, Ninten. He, with the help of friends, has to collect melodies from a song and sing it to Queen Mary, who is... kind of like Maria... but on another plane of existence, called Magicant.

Later, Ness (in Mother2, aka EarthBound) and his pals have to fight people who are under Giygas’ power, including a rather bothersome and wholly self-centered boy named Pokey Minch. By now, Giygas has been driven mad by his futile attempts to stop the spread of this stolen technology and knowledge. Then they have to fight Pokey Minch again, but Pokey has been drastically changed by time-traveling equipment he stole from a human inventor (Dr. Andonuts). Ness and his friends have to fight not just this futuristic version of Pokey but also an unhinged and unleashed version of Giygas; the alien has lost their physical form and now exists as an evil force of immense power. Through prayer (mostly), Ness and his friends are able to banish ... perhaps truly destroy... Giygas, but Pokey escapes to cause problems yet another time.

With Mother3, which never got a worldwide release (which is why Chlaus says in Black Butler that “Mouse3” [and the drugs] were hard to get ahold of in Italy), mirror twin brothers Claus and Lucas get separated after their mother is killed (and their father is too full of grief to help them). Claus ends up missing (he’s dead at the bottom of a cliff), and Lucas and the family dog, Boney, go on a quest to avenge his family. Lucas, Boney, and friends they make have to defeat King Porky; King Porky is what the time-traveling Pokey Minch decides to call himself when he travels to this future setting and settles down to become a tyrant. Giygas seems to be gone, but King Porky still follows Giygas’ destructive life path. King Porky is obsessed with popularity and technological advances. And, at some point, the lifeless body of Claus gets turned into a Fascinating Chimera, and the mirror twin brothers have to compete to fulfill a prophecy... of waking the Dark Dragon. Dr. Andonuts was previously forced to help King Porky, but even he eventually gets revenge.

I have a lot of posts about Mother3 theory, and I’m trying to focus here on a particular aspect, so here are some parallels, particularly regarding technology:

Our earl — Lucas

Real Ciel — Claus

Sebastian, under contract — Boney, the loyal family dog

Sebastian, aka the “Black Butler”, once the contract is fulfilled — Dark Dragon, particularly once the prophecy is fulfilled

Undertaker, bringing otherworldly technology to humans — George

Reaper superiors and/or John Brown — the original manifestation of Giygas and that alien race

Reapers, in general — Magypsies, in general

Prince Soma — Pokey Minch

Prince Soma with the Right Hand of Kali — Pokey Minch with the unhinged Giygas (This parallel would be further strengthened if Prince Soma ends up stealing anything out of Sieglinde’s lab or convinces her to make any sort of contraption for him.)

Queen Victoria, who demands unwavering loyalty and is trying to increase Great Britain’s power through technology and new infrastructure — King Porky, who demands the same and is also focused on infrustrucfure, technology, innovation, etc.

Queen Victoria with John Brown — King Porky drunk on unbridled power, basing his actions on what he thinks Giygas would want of him.

Undertaker, inventor of Bizarre Dolls — Dr. Andonuts, inventor of Fascinating Chimera

Sieglinde, chemist and inventor of various contraptions — Dr. Andonuts (also his younger version, Lloyd), inventor of various contraptions

There are so many other parallels, not just in characters and plots, but also in their timelines. However, like I said... I’m trying to focus on your ask regarding technological anachronisms.

TL/DR: It’s definitely supposed to be the Victorian era, but it’s an alternative universe to our own, so it took some different paths along the historical timeline. Add to that the fact that reapers and demons/angels (or other supernatural beings, like gods) have been intervening in human lives, and advanced technologies and innovations have been introduced along the way because of it.

There are lots of examples of this throughout the series, including the mobile phone used by Vanel’s thugs (Sebastian grabbed theirs; he doesn’t have one of his own). Other examples include TVs, video game consoles, war tanks, radar, and all the contraptions Sieglinde makes for herself and for others, like the Phantom Five.

This all works just dandy with my theory that the manga series is largely based on Nintendo’s Mother game series, since both deal quite a bit with “stolen” technology and runaway technology/innovation.

Thanks for the ask and for letting me screenshot the message to answer in a post. 😊

[mickybee0412]

4 Music Marketing Platforms That Every New Band Must Have In 2021

I think everyone will agree when I say:

It’s REALLY hard to build a fan base.  

Well, while still not as simple as it once was, the following platforms will help you get your music in front of more people sooner!

1.    YouTube

The video-sharing juggernaut isn’t only the best place to catch all the latest cat vids but should be the absolute first point of call when considering posting your musical content.  Here’s why:

·       An average of 5 billion hours worth of video is watched on YouTube every day.

·       YouTube is actively accountable for 47% of global music consumption.

·       85% of the most-watched YouTube videos are in fact music videos.

 Tips for success:

1.    Make your videos shareable!  Relatable content gets shared.  Topical content gets shared.  Valuable content gets shared.  Get the point?  Create something worth sharing and you’ll amass fans fast.

2.    Be consistent.  People will come to your page because of the content you release. Don’t mess it up by throwing stupid curveballs into the mix.  Keep your content consistent, release it on a schedule and keep all your thumbnails and artist profiles consistent with your other social platforms.

3.    Stop, collaborate and listen.  Network with other YouTubers and content creators posting content similar to you.  

4.    Communicate with people commenting on your videos. No matter how big you get remember where you came from.  You always have a spare ten minutes to reply to your fans.  Communication is key.

2.    Spotify

Playlists, playlists, playlists.  With Spotify accounting for 35% of digital music and a total of 68% of Spotify users using playlists to discover new music, it would be outrageous not to consider Spotify playlists when curating a marketing campaign.  Not only can the addition of a single song into a well-established playlist act as a game-changer, creating playlists can boost interactivity and help you maintain an active position on your followers’ feeds.

 Spotify allows you to upload photos, insert bios, and add in any upcoming tour dates, letting your fans know where they can catch a live set.  Spotify needs to be tended carefully, but so does everything.  If you wanna grow your audience, Spotify is a must.

Tips for success:

1.    Submit your tracks to playlist curators.  The more people that hear your music, the bigger you grow as an artist.  Playlist curators help get your music in front of the right people sooner.

2.    Create your own playlists.  Doing it yourself will increase your presence and allow you to connect with other playlist curators.  It’s a no brainer.

3.    Like any of the platforms mentioned in this blog, having a strong image, characterised by your style of music is a highly effective way to grow brand identity.

4.    Share your Spotify links!  Sharing your music links is the most grassroots way of promotion but it still works.  Show people where to find your music by sharing the heck out of it.

5.    Once you have a killer image start reaching out to music blogs.  If you have something worth writing about they’ll promote it to their fans.

3.    Facebook, Instagram, Twitter

If social media was an awkward family get together, Facebook, Instagram and Twitter would be the parents you inadvertently cling to for the entire event. Why?  Because you need them!  With most of the digital world residing within these three platforms, they really do become an absolute must for your marketing strategy.  Don’t believe me?  Here are the stats:

 Facebook: 2.80 billion active users.  1.84 billion users opening the app at least once a day.

Instagram: 1.1 billion active users.  71% of users being under the age of 35.

Twitter: 192 million active users.  500 million tweets being sent daily.

 It goes without saying that each platform will require a tailored strategy for the tools and specifications that each app offers but if you can create a campaign that integrates all three, you have a solid foundation for your marketing crusade.

  Tips for success:

1.    Research similar accounts to give you a better understanding of what works and what doesn’t.

2.    In a bid to keep driving your image.  Select professional, charismatic profile photos and banner photos, but remember to keep them consistent.  Integrate this mother flipping campaign!

3.    Facebook and Instagram both have ‘live’ functionality. Use it.  It helps you reach people quickly and will promote fan interaction.

4.    Update everything regularly.  I’m sure if you showered once a month no one would talk to you either.  Keep socials fresh.

5.    Using appropriate hashtags will open the door to a greater reach and ultimately a larger fan base.

6.    Understanding the Facebook and Instagram paid advertising infrastructure is an absolute must if you want to target the right audience. Why?  Because you can directly target those that want to see your content. Learn who your audience is and then create paid ads specifically targeting that market.  It’ll come at a cost, but the reward is substantial.

  4.    TikTok

TikTok offers a unique option for those looking to bolster a marketing campaign, it allows you to post short, 15 – 60 second, videos and focuses primarily on creating authentic content.  A platform based on participation, TikTok offers the ability to post your own music, follow other musicians, and presents the uniquity of creating pop-culture trends as you connect with one of over 689 million global users.  Whilst new to the social media scene, TikTok has made an impact and is here to stay, don’t get left behind (Robley, 2020).  

 Tips for success:

1.    Focus on a niche market.  Find a community that you really want to engage with and start establishing a reputation.  Create a game plan and work to your strengths.

2.    Anyone that’s had success on TikTok knows that one of the main keys to success is consistent posting.  If you are posting three to five times a day, you are constantly in front of people.

3.    Shareable content!  Sound familiar?  Post content that’s relatable, post performance videos, post personal blogs, damn it just post stuff that people will share with their friends.

4.    TikTok utilises an algorithm.  Research into the sorts of content that best work on TikTok and you’ll find your content all over the FYP before you know it.

5.    Constantly look at increasing the quality of your content. If your videos look as though they’ve been recorded by a potato, chances are you’re gonna crash and burn.

 Look, it might not be a bloody baby but you are gonna need to take baby steps. These things take time but you should absolutely be aiming to get into good habits early.  If you want to make it in the big bad digital world you are gonna have to play by the rules.

Whether or not your tweeting, TikToking, or Face…booking, these platforms are a musician's best friend.  

Let me know which platforms you’re going to master by leaving a comment below.

[megashadowdragon]

Theory: Dabi is literally Frankenstein’s Monster, both in his appearance and origin story

/www . reddit . com/r/BokuNoHeroAcademia/comments/coy27z/theory_dabi_is_literally_frankensteins_monster/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x

I previously discussed my thoughts on Dabi’s character, IF he indeed is Touya Todoroki (this has NOT been confirmed!), being based on Frankenstein’s Monster a few months back on a post by _Hireath_. I’d thought that I’d post it again here and further expand the discussion and see what other people think of the comparisons.

I believe that not only does Horikoshi draw inspiration for Dabi’s appearance from pop cultural depictions of The Monster but his origin story also parallels the themes of the novel.

Endeavor/Enji Todoroki = Victor Frankenstein

Dabi/Touya Todoroki = The creature (Frankenstein's monster)

APPEARANCE

The Monster's appearance varies in popular culture, but he is often portrayed as having a body that appears to be stitched together and seen wearing dark, tattered clothes with heavy boots. When we’re first introduced to Dabi, his clothes are tattered. His clothes later change with the addition of boots and metal-like arm bracers, which could be homage to the bolts in the Monster’s neck

And as u/_Hireath_ pointed out, in Chapter 191 we see Dabi do a pose that is pretty much the exact same as Boris Karloff’s portrayal of the Monster, who played him in the 1930s Universal Picture films.

Dabi’s pose versus Boris Karloff’s pose

NOVEL THEMES

First let’s look at the name of the novel in question, Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus.

For those who don’t know, Prometheus is the Titan/Culture Hero who created humans from clay and gave them fire. Right off the bat, we see the parallels between the Flame Hero Endeavor and Victor Frankenstein/Prometheus.

The BritLit blog has good analyses on some of the themes in Frankenstein, some examples are:

Sins of the father

Loss of innocence

Dichotomy of fire

Responsibility and culpability

Society and isolation

Revenge

1. SINS OF THE FATHER

Vitanza, D. (2018 September 5). Sins of the Father [blog post]. BritLit: Frankenstein. . Retrieved from blogs . baylor . edu/britlit/2018/09/05/sins-of-the-father/

Victor’s lifelong pursuit to create his creature filled him with purpose and drove a series of feverish attempts to fulfill his dream. There is never mention of why he has chosen to do this other than for self-serving reasons.

We see Endeavor's ambition and fallibility in "creating" his children.

Endeavor (speaking to All Might): "I'll mold him (Shoto) into a Hero who surpasses you. That's the only reason I created that kid." (Ch 31)

Shoto (speaking to Midoriya): "My dad... he's a powerful bastard who only thinks of becoming stronger. Yeah, he's gone all out to make a name for himself as a Hero but he's always seen that living legend, All Might, as a roadblock and an eyesore. My father could never beat All Might on his own. So he came up with another plan... Raising me as a Hero who could exceed All Might, just to fulfill his own ambitions." (Ch 31)

Once the fruits of his labor are realized, he immediately becomes the prototypical absent father. The ultimate sin of the father is irresponsibility and selfishness.

Endeavor was an absent father to Touya, Fuyumi, and Natsuo because they were seen as “failures”. The three older children were raised separately from Shoto.

Endeavor (talking about Touya & Natsuo): "Don't look at them, Shoto. Your brothers... they belong to a different world than you." (Ch 39)

Natsuo (talking about Endeavor): "I don't remember him well. At this point, he basically feels like a complete stranger." (Ch 187)

Natsuo (talking to Endeavor):"'Say it'...? That's rich, coming from the guy who wouldn't even look me in the eye for all these years. You've got some nerve, you know that? It's funny, I had no idea soba was Shoto's favourite food until today. You took special care to never let us, your "failures" into his life after all. You completely neglected us, and left us to listen to mom screaming and Shoto crying.” (Ch 192)

Possible Predictions?

The creature’s construction is not the genesis of his evil, it is Victor’s failure to fulfill his duty as a father.

Victor only dabbles in acknowledgement of his fatal flaw. It isn’t until he is near-death that he finally acknowledges that he is ultimately responsible for all the death that resulted in his creation.

Will Endeavor end up the same way as Victor Frankenstein? Acknowledging when he’s on his deathbed that Dabi/Touya is the way that he is because he failed as a father and that he is ultimately responsible for his actions?

2. LOSS OF INNOCENCE

Castillo, B. (2018 September 5). “I Ought to be Thy Adam”: The Theme of Lost Innocence in Frankenstein’s “Monster” [blog post]. BritLit: Frankenstein. Retrieved from blogs . baylor . edu/britlit/2018/09/05/i-ought-to-be-thy-adam-the-theme-of-lost-innocence-in-frankensteins-monster/

When I think of innocence, the first group of people that come to mind are children. Children come into this world knowing nothing, and the way they view the world is heavily influenced by their early experiences, their education, and the culture they live in.

We see this loss of innocence in the Todoroki children due to Endeavor's intense training and abuse of their mother.

In a flashback in Chapter 39, we see Endeavor training a young Shoto to the point that he's in tears and vomiting on the floor with Rei trying to intervene:

Endeavor (to Shoto): "Get up. You won't even be able to defeat third-rate villains, let alone All Might, if you get knocked down by a hit like that...

Rei (to Endeavor): "Stop it, please! He's only five years old..."

Endeavor (to Rei): "Yes, he's already five! So get out of my way!" (slaps Rei)

The creature’s moral decline parallels that of Adam and Eve’s eating from the fruit of the tree. As he gained knowledge about humanity, there was no turning back. While I find the creature’s decisions to be questionable, I feel they bring a few questions to mind: If the creature had been given the same opportunity to develop the way a healthy child would, how might the story be different? Although we would deem the creature’s actions as monstrous in nature, can we hold this “monster” completely accountable for his actions?

When Giran introduces Dabi to the League of Villains, he “has no outstanding criminal record to speak of”. He wanted to join the League because he wanted to make the Hero Killer Stain’s will a reality. After he joins he begins committing murder - there’s no turning back. But if he was given the same opportunity, say as Shoto, would his story be different?

3. DICHOTOMY OF FIRE

Strong, T. (2016 September 26). Lightning and Fire [blog post]. BritLit: Frankenstein. blogs . baylor . edu/britlit/2016/09/26/lightning-and-fire/

The monster and Victor both have first memories in the natural world that shape them quite profoundly – Victor has his lightning storm, with the complete destruction of a tree, and the monster has his fire, which warms him while it destroys and burns.

The monster’s fire is a different matter, though it affects him similarly. He came upon his first fire during his wandering days, when he was discovering his senses and vulnerabilities. He came upon a fire “which had been left” by humans (Vol. II, Ch. III), so a human tool left in nature. He was “overcome with delight” and joy, but touching it brought him pain. “How strange, [he thinks], that the same cause could produce such opposite effects!” He has learned the dichotomy of flame – to save and to hurt.

Endeavor's flames save (he is a Pro Hero, after all) whereas Dabi's flames hurt, both himself and others.

Dabi (talking to a group of unnamed villains): "Don't need... types like you... begone. I guess trash like you is... good fuel for my fire." (Ch 115)

Higawara (to Dabi): "All those burnt corpses that've turning up here and there lately..." (Ch 160)

Dabi (referring to Higawara): "Looks like only his top half can turn to sand. He's probably dead." (Ch 160)

Geten (to Dabi): "You're the one who'll be dying here, wielder of blue flames. Your body has been reeking of burnt flesh for a while now." (Ch 230)

Geten (to Dabi): "Judging by that peeling, burnt skin or yours... you can't fight for very long, can you? Your body can't stand your own flames." (Ch 230)

4. RESPONSIBILITY AND CULPABILITY

Rima, L. (2018 September 5). On the topic of responsibility and culpability [blog post]. BritLit: Frankenstein. blogs . baylor . edu/britlit/2018/09/05/on-the-topic-of-responsibility-and-culpability/

The topic of responsibility can be a difficult one to explore, because “responsibility” may heavily affect the view of one’s culpability for his or her actions – despite responsibility, one may be condemned or condoned. How deeply, therefore, must we take into account context and history when determining a sense of “blame” for these characters? Does an abusive childhood at all excuse, or at least contextualize, a serial killer’s actions? Does it lessen the blow of the gavel, and by extension, the punishment? If so – just how harshly should a reader judge the monster and his violent actions, and Victor Frankenstein for creating him?

Looking at their relationship in a family perspective, Victor holds as much responsibility for his creation as a parent does his child. This creature is a blank slate, confused and ignorant just as a newborn, and Victor plays the stereotypical role of absent father immediately by running away, “unable to endure the aspect of the being [he] created, [rushing] out of the room” (84). This instantaneous rejection is certainly not lost on the creature, who will be experiencing this rejection for the rest of his life. It is, after all, what spurns the creature into exacting revenge upon Victor. In this way, Victor is directly responsible for the creation of the monster – of course – as well as the monster’s desire for violence towards the Frankenstein family and friends. Responsibility for this creature, however, is not culpability for this creature’s actions. Frankenstein’s monster has the gift of free will, which means that ultimately, his actions are his own and therefore he himself is responsible for them. This son’s sins cannot be solely blamed on the father! Those in connection to Victor, after all, are not the only ones who receive the monster’s wrath.

Endeavor is responsible for creating Dabi/Touya but is he culpable for his crimes? How harshly should the audience judge Dabi for his actions? How harshly should we judge Endeavor?

5. HOW MIGHT DABI’S STORY END?

So, if Dabi/Touya is based on Frankenstein's Monster, how might his story end?

Well, in the novel, after Frankenstein dies, the Creature jumps off the boat in the arctic to go kill himself and is never seen again. Hopefully that doesn’t happen. A more interesting take is a potential, what could have been, redemption.

(Captain Robert) Walton’s Responsibility to Frankenstein’s Monster

Adams, D. (2016 September 26). Walton’s Responsibility to Frankenstein’s Monster [blog post]. BritLit: Frankenstein. blogs . baylor . edu/britlit/2016/09/26/waltons-responsibility-to-the-monster/

In Frankenstein, Mary Shelley’s critique of the criminal justice system’s consistency, her critique of retributive justice, and the death of Victor leave Walton with the responsibility to deliver justice to the monster. He is responsible for counseling the monster and restoring him to human society.

However, Walton is not responsible for killing or exiling the monster. The retributive system of punishment (matching punishment to crime) only results in more death and pointless suffering. Shelley emphasizes this through the monster’s murder of William, Elizabeth and Henry as he tries to retributively serve justice to Victor. Yet the monster reveals at Victor’s death that retribution is not satisfactory. The monster ends up wanting forgiveness*; “what does it avail that I know ask thee to pardon me? I, who irretrievably destroyed thee by destroying all thou lovedst” (217).* Retributive justice only destroys everyone involved; there is neither healing nor consolation. It only leads to more destruction and is therefore not just.

Walton instead has the responsibility to help the monster process his existence so he can best live for himself and for human society. The monster believes that his creator Victor is responsible for preparing him for a virtuous and happy life: “‘Remember, I am thy creature: I ought to be thy Adam…I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy and I shall again be virtuous” (118-119, 119). Victor did not befriend him nor guide him so the monster never learned how to live virtuously. It is fair to the monster that he be helped in this way and Walton is the last one who can help him.

So, if Dabi/Touya does eventually get a redemption, who will take up the role of Captain Walton? Shouto? All Might? Hawks? Another Pro Hero? Another family member perhaps, such as Fuyumi or Natsuo?

It’s interesting to note that Natsuo's major in college is medical welfare,

 which deals with sociology and mental health, among other things. Those who major in it can become counselors, social workers, and psychiatric social workers.

From Suzuka University of Medical Science, Department of Medical Welfare, Clinical Welfare Course page: "In this course students... acquire the skills of counselling for clients and their families and combine them with other medical services and health and welfare specialists."

However, this redemption would require detention. First, it would provide the opportunity for Walton to peacefully restore his feelings, for the monster lost some ability to empathize after killing Elizabeth: “then I was not miserable. I had cast off all feeling, subdued all anguish to riot in the excess of my despair” (218). Regardless if he lost all feeling or not, he would need guidance to learn how to feel sympathy, respect, and love. Second, it would help appease his fellow humans as they could see him “pay his debt to society,” helping them process his existence as well, though preferably in a monastery or small town where people could interact with him but stay away from large groups of people.

It would be a bittersweet ending if Dabi/Touya ended up being institutionalized, just like his mother. 

or dabi could commit suicide after endeavors death like the frankensteins monster for I think shigaraki who touya is paralleled with  is going to die of course I think a big difference between Dabi (if he is Touya) and Shigaraki is that he still has a family to help him heal. 

(a comment from reddit post  )

this theory adds to the dabi is a zombie theory given that frankensteins monster was created from corpses fuzzypastaangelfreak . tumblr . com/post/186925080336/bnha-theory-for-all-intensive-purposes-dabi-is-a/embed

part 2: megashadowdragon . tumblr . com/post/188008382847/embed

@hamliet

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Friendship Bracelet.”

So this next story is based requests I have been getting frequently. Know that this is a rather large topic, so I may do similar prompts in the future.

Please keep sending me your ideas, comments, thoughts, and questions. I love seeing any and all of the above. 

It takes almost 25 years for human offspring to reach full cortical maturity.

The average human can weight anywhere between 90 and 300 pounds with outliers dipping down to 70 pounds and reaching up to 700+.

Human skin color ranges on a scale of mostly brows and creams with translucent white at one end and ebony black at the other end. Heights can be anywhere from 4.5 to 7 feet on extreme ends of the spectrum.

Human hair is likewise set out on a spectrum of blond to black or, rarely, auburn, red or strawberry blonde.

Due to the nature of the human physiological structure, their infants are born surprisingly underdeveloped. To keep these infants alive, the humans create pack structures known as families. The classic nuclear family usually includes two parents and anywhere from 1- 20 children (in extreme cases) the parents are in charge of taking care of the offspring until a predetermined age when the offspring is expected to take care of themselves.

A human child reaches milestones of maturity which determine the health of the child. A window of age determines when it is normal for a human to talk, walk, laugh, smile, and begin speaking.

Humans are one of the only creatures in this galaxy to mature at such a slow degree. They are also one of the only species known to give live birth to their offspring, which may be why their children are born so vulnerable.

Human social ties are what keep the offspring alive until maturity.

***

Krill sat in the back of the car squished between two of the three brothers inside his specimen tube staring down at the snow which was coming down in thick flurries. Captain Vir and his second oldest brother sat in the back seat of the car as the old human drove his way careful through the snow. The other two brothers had taken the oldest brother’s care and would be following shortly behind.

Waffles, the dog, sat on the floor just in front of Krill head resting on the captain’s knee.

Apparently, it was normal for the humans to go out in weather like this. Traveling in a blizzard wasn’t unknown or even all that thought about. It used to be more hazardous when cars didn’t have emergency steering override, but now attached proximity alarms could track the movement of other objects around them and intervene if an accident was eminent.

It didn’t mean that krill wasn’t scared out of his mind. This all seemed very dangerous, but Captain Vir insisted to him that the family had been invited to a “Birthday party” at his sister’s house, and it would be rude not to come.

Krill was under the impression it would also be very rude to die, but what did he know?

The car skidded softly on some ice, and the old human grunted wrestling control back from the icy roads as he took a slow controlled turn onto another residential street parking himself behind a long line of cars.

Jeremy and the second David pulled up behind them, and they all got out of the car, the dog taking the lead to the correct door.

Captain Vir Held Krill’s specimen tube under one arm and a sparkly silver bag in the other hand.

“Prepare for mayhem, it’s going to be loud.”

Stomping the snow from their boots, the humans made their way up the steps and knocked on the door asking to be let in.

The door opened with a blast of noise not dissimilar to military grade decibel weapons. All of the humans, accept for the alpha female, cringed. Krill became very grateful for the control he had over his sensory systems.

Stepping inside was pandemonium. There were at least ten adults sitting at the distant table playing a game of cards, and there were about as many tiny humans. They ran around screaming and chasing each other with boundless energy. Their unsuppressed predatory play made Krill feel very uneasy.

He had never met a human child. He had seen them once or twice sure, but he had never interacted with one directly.

As soon as they walked in one of the human females rose from her seat and walked slowly over. She was relatively thin, aside from the massive bulge at her stomach which she kept protective hand over. Captain Vir walked closer and put an arm around her. She hugged him back before pulling away and frowning at his eyepatch, “What did you do to yourself, Adam.”

Captain Vir gave a sheepish grin, “I uh accidentally lobotomized myself.”

She frowned at him, but before she could say anything they were surrounded by a mass group of children chattering and pointing at Krill inside his test tube. One of the little humans let of a shrill scream and scampered towards his mother hiding behind her legs.

“Eww, what is it?” One of the tiny humans asked stepping back eyes wide with fear.

The rest of the human children huddled behind that first child nodding with large eyes.

All accept for one of the tiny humans. She was blonde, hair pulled back into two little tufts of hair on either side of her head. The puffy little outfit she wore was somewhere in the red spectrum though Krill couldn’t tell exactly what color. He had a suspicion it was the hue that humans called pink.

She wore a paper crown and held a sparkly stick with a star at one end.

She was the only one brave enough to come up to his containment unit eyes wide with curiosity instead of fear.

She looked up at Captain Vir, “Uncle Adam, is he your pet?”

Vir laughed and knelt to look at the little girl, “No this is my friend.”

The containment unit hissed open.

A few of the children screamed and ran towards their parents hiding behind older adult legs.

The little girl held her ground, “Oh, HI what’s your name!”

She was loud, and absolutely horrifying. He scooted himself behind captain Vir’s legs and away from the tiny predator and he sharp little teeth. The tiny human frowned and circled around towards Krill, “Hey, its ok, I’m not mean.”

Krill looked up at captain Vir who stood grinning down at him, “Come on, and introduce yourself to my niece.”

Krill did so hesitantly, “Hello…. Human larvae, I am Krill.”

The little girl giggled, “My name isn’t Larvae, its Kimber, and you can be my friend.” She announced clearly pleased with herself reaching out to grab one of Krill’s arms before he could stop her.

He nearly keeled over and died. Terrified that she was going to bring him back to her lair and eat him.

“Kimber,” Captain Vir warned, “Be easy.”

“Ok.” Her grip loosened, but she still tugged Krill along after her. He went almost too petrified to think as the group of tiny predators parted around her. Some curious some scared.

The next few hours were some of the most terrifying, and interesting, moments of his life, the tiny human female seemed to have claimed Krill as her property demonstrating this action by placing one of the colorful party hats on his head. She claimed the dog in the same way insisting that both of them participate in her “Tea party” where they were made to participating in ritual of drinking imaginary tea and making Smalltalk. Not that Krill had to do much talking, the tiny human had a lot to say about things that didn’t seem to exist.

He wondered if the human grub was sick.

Was she delusional?

Not only that but he witnessed what happened before humans were tamed. One small human, deciding that he was not getting what he deserved fell to the floor and assailed the adult humans with a sonic attack that rattled the windows.

The older humans winced, but came over to try and tell the small human to stop. In anger, the small human attempted to attack the larger counterpart.

It didn’t work, and the larvae was shut into a room by himself. He continued attempting to use the sonic attack, but the adults just laughed it off. His weaponry had been effectively defeated by the door.

Eventually more of the small creatures became brave enough to approach Krill.

And they asked an incessant amount of questions.

Was he a boy or a girl? Where was he from? What was his favorite color? Were those his eyes? What was that thing for?

Kimber was the first to grow tired of the questions and made her claim on him by announcing that she, and her new best friend were done answering questions. They were going to make friendship bracelets instead.

He watched in confused amazement as the tiny human passed colorful spheres onto a string presently presenting Krill with the gift afterwards. He wasn’t aware that you had to make someone a bracelet to be friends with them, but she seemed to insist that it was necessary to keep their friendship solid. When the bracelet wouldn’t fit on one of his legs she decided that a necklace would work just as well and ordered that he wear it around his neck.

Ok, he didn’t want to anger the tiny predator, so he put on the colorful beads. She seemed pleased.

Afterwards, she grabbed his arm and dragged him with her to the grownups announcing formally that Krill and She were now BFFs.

Catpain Vir grinned at Krill, and at Waffles who had been faithfully following Kimber around in hopes that she would feed her more cheerios left over from the tea party.

The dog was still wearing the colorful party hat.

“An interesting entourage you have there, Princess Kimber.” Captain Vir said

She beamed up at him quite pleased before demanding that, as Princess she should get some cake.

At least the hiatus left Krill with time to relax from some of the stress, of course that was relative come to learn that you could in fact FEEL unborn human larvae moving inside a human mother.  That, he thought, sounded exactly like the plotline to one of those human horror films, though none of them seemed to think so instead, insisting that the miracle of birth was beautiful and whatever.

Krill begged to differ, he knew how big a human birth canal was, and it was not, in fact, large enough for a grapefruit….

Apparently it stretches.

Dear Nebulon that was disgusting.

They spent a good few hours there before the humans began trickling away with their offspring. With her friends gone, Kimber cajoled him into a tour of her “Play” room insisting he memorize the names of each and every one of her stuffed animals, because it would be rude for him to incorrectly address them.

During their third “tea party” She formally dubbed Captain Vir the pirate king because of his leg and eyepatch.

By the time it was their turn to leave, She insisted that Krill keep on the bracelet or it would ruin their friendship pact, and that would be unacceptable.

He was scared she would come find him and hunt him down, so he kept silent.

***

Thinks I have learned

Human offspring use sonic attacks to get other humans to do what they want. Sometimes it works depending on the exhaustion level of the adult in question.

To have a good relationship with a human grub, one must make an offering of a friendship bracelet or necklace as a proper introduction.

It is a normal ritual right to drink fake tea with a dog. It may be some sort of primitive indoctrination ceremony.

Though human larvae are more fragile than their older counterparts, they are also more aggressive and would probably kill you if given the chance, be glad they aren’t bigger.

Also important to note that human larvae are spawned in the heart of darkness growing to final maturity in the belly of their mothers, feeding off her body, by way unholy attachment, to feed their own hellish growth at which point they will claw their way from her womb potentially breaking her bones and ripping her open as a result…. They have tricked their human parents into thinking that this as acceptable birthing method.

Ballerinas are terrifying, but the human larva is a creature spawned of blood and darkness.

It is advised to accept all colorful gifts of friendship from these creatures lest they destroy you in your sleep.

[risingmoonyue]

I was raised in a loving Christian home. My Father is a pastor’s kid, and my Mother is a first-generation immigrant who converted to Christianity in her teens. I grew up with bedtime stories about Moses and the Seven Plagues and Esther. My family has never shied away from explaining things to me as I asked. When I was seven, I had a deep conversation about death with my Great-Grandfather.

That was--is--my life. My family has been so incredibly blessed with the life and family we have now. I think families like mine also add to a common misconception about the Christian faith, especially in America: that the Bible promises a good and easy life to those who follow it.

I’ll be honest. That isn’t true. If anything, the Bible says the exact opposite--that people will hate us, that we’ll be outcasts, that people will just want us to shut up and stop. Life will be hard.

I’ve known that for a long time now. It’s something I’ve always kept in mind as everything happened, as horrible things happen to my family of faith, to my friends, to my loved ones. And this leads to what I’m going to talk about next.

As a Christian, I have experienced a lot of opposition in my short life. But most of it wasn’t actually to my face, though in all honesty, I wish it was most of the time. It would be easier that way, to be able to defend myself and say what I mean directly without constraints of time and place, or just to get it over and done with, without sounding like just another insignificant voice in this world full of people who scream, shout, hate, or just don’t care.

Most of this opposition has been passive but no less difficult, both from people and society in general.

In 10th grade, I took a civics class. At that point, the class was focused on the effects of nuclear weaponry and fallout on society and literature. Throughout the semester, we were reading the book “Cat’s Cradle” by Kurt Vonnegut. For those of you who don’t know, it’s a satirical science fiction novel about science, technology, and religion, that ends with Earth being destroyed by a man-made weapon. It was... A read. Not my favorite, but definitely well written.

At the end of the semester, when everyone had finished their book and was preparing to write their final essays, we had a Socratic Seminar. Now, at this point, I had already not had a good experience with these. In other classes, I was usually one of the only two people who would try to carry the conversation, and I was probably the quietest person in the room at any given point. But this seminar honestly kinda traumatized me.

At about the halfway point of the seminar, I was feeling pretty good. This class was great about getting other people to talk, and I wasn’t forced to carry and lead the conversation like my other classes. Eventually though, the topic turned to the relationship between religion and science. The “leader” of the discussion asked who in the room was religious, and to raise their hands.

To fully understand why this was already nerve wracking: my school is primarily atheist, and very, very liberal. It is focused on science and math, and most Christians I’ve spoken--myself included--to there are honestly kinda afraid to talk about it, despite the school always talking about being “open minded” and “judgment free”. While we aren’t as bad as one of our sister schools, there is still a bit of pack mentality--think what you want, as long as you don’t disagree with us. Many Christan beliefs tend to oppose that of the majority. Opinions are very strong there, and I’ve seen a girl get in trouble because she addressed the student body as “guys” instead of some gender-neutral term during a school assembly. It’s kinda bad. So you might be able to see why it was making me nervous that they were directly calling out religious people.

I ended up being one of only two or three people who raised their hand. They then started talking about how “science cannot mix with religion”, with Christianity as a focus as in the book, that is where some of the main religious themes came from. So I tried to say differently. Shy, 15/16 year old me tried really hard to explain that the two can, in fact, coexist, and that we do it all the time--case in point, me actually going to that school.

But what really got to me, was not even two seconds into me talking about it, the leader just shook his head and ignored me. That hurt. A lot. I just… stopped talking for the rest of the day, pretty much. I almost ran out of the room crying, but didn’t because I wanted to be a good student and actually get a good grade on this. I didn’t feel better until I went home and had a long discussion with Mom about science and religion and why what they said wasn’t true.

That was just the most obvious instance in my life. I’d say the thing that has the largest, but mist unseen effect though, is the media. In my experience at least, I’ve found there’s a resistance in talking about Christianity in media, especially since it’s a “White People” religion--which is also untrue, as it originated in the Middle East, and is supposed to be for everyone. So now, whenever I see it online, it’s almost painful to see, because I’m afraid it’s going to be about why my faith sucks, or why it’s wrong, or it’ll be a good post, but hey, the majority of people commenting on it hate it and are picking out any flaw they can because they don’t agree. The worst part is, I’ve seen a lot of controversial posts, but Christian posts are the only ones I’ve seen get this type of backlash. And I hate that.

I hate that it happens. I hate that I hate it so much, because I don’t want to hate. It’s a terrible emotion, and I don’t want anything to do with it. It’s painful that I have to feel afraid going on social media and saying I’m a Christian, because everyone else hates it. It’s painful that I see others struggling with the same thing. It sucks. I’ve always been an easygoing person, and never could hold a grudge. Even now, as much as I hate the action and the responses it creates, I find myself forgiving those people, because those people clearly don’t have God in their lives, and my faith preaches forgiveness.

For me, it’s always been difficult to say these struggles out loud, because I’ve had it good, and I know it. Society says to suck it up, because so many people have it worse than you. But that’s wrong, because there’s no comparing pain, and we shouldn’t be. Why are my experiences and pains rendered invalid just because of who I am? It’s not right. Everyone feels pain differently.

I believe that God has a plan. My main prayer in any situation is “Let Your will be done.” Maybe I can’t see it. Maybe it’s so big, that one action I make won’t come into effect until years down the line. I don’t know. But I can keep hope and faith that other people will see the Truth.

Honestly, two hours ago, I hadn’t even thought about making this. But today in church, during the sermon, the pastor said something, and the Lord just… Called to me. And I knew I had to make this.

I don’t know what people will think of this. I don’t know why, or how, but all I can hope for is that somewhere, this reaches someone’s heart.

My name is Galina. I’m 18 years old, and this is my testimony.

[pickledchickenetti]

So I’ve had something on my mind for the last week or two that I’ve been trying to figure out how to best start a post about and coming up short. We all know that I have a tendency to be long-winded, and some of this post is going to be stream of consciousness, at least moreso than my usual longer posts, which I usually wait to start until I have a pretty solid idea of what I want to say and how I want to say it. I may go back and edit this some at the end, I may not, probably depends on how it comes out. (Edited at the end to add: I’m not editing anything. It’s long and I’m not expecting anyone to force themselves through it, but thanks to those who do!) Since this is partially me using my blog as a place to ruminate on some things, I’m going to put it under a read more for those who don’t want to have it clogging up their dashboard. 

Lately I’ve had a lot of mixed feelings regarding social media and what voices and mindsets I allow to be a part of my everyday life. I put a lot of effort into carefully treading the line between taking unnecessary negativity out of my social media feeds and creating an echo chamber where I only see people who agree with me. Most of the time, the decision comes down to the tone and intent. If someone is consistently rude, angry, or condescending, with very little useful contribution to any conversation I unfollow them. This applies to people on Facebook who constantly use slurs, post hateful things about people with opposing beliefs or political stances (even if I generally agree with that person’s beliefs or stances) with little attention to facts, and it also applies to people here are just needlessly rude with no real contributions to the overall conversation. 

The older I get, the more I find choosing kindness to be a priority in my life. I’m not perfect; I fully admit there are still times when I’m rude or condescending. Sometimes this is an accident, and unfortunately sometimes it isn’t. I don’t like this, and I try especially hard not to be intentionally condescending. Kindness is a choice, and progress takes time. 

As I’m sure most of you know, I am often very critical of @kristagay‘s posts. I still stand by many, possibly even most, of the opinions I’ve shared. Kindness is important to me, but it’s also important to me to not let other people’s hurtful words or actions go unchecked when I have the ability to say/do something. (This applies to everyone in my radar, not just Krista.) I have very strong opinions on a number of subjects, but it’s especially important to me to speak up in defense of others in the LGBTQA community as that’s a community I belong to and those struggles are more personal to me. 

A little while back, I got a string of anons (many were answered, some were deleted) that made it seem like someone was trying to create some sort of feud between me and Krista. As I said in one of the posts at that time, I was under no illusion that Krista was reading any of my posts that didn’t tag her directly, and had no interest in any sort of feud. Krista does not follow me, and in general does not seem to interact much on Tumblr beyond asks to her and posts she is directly tagged in (or reblogs/comments on her posts of course). I would likely be the same way if I stumbled onto a community of people discussing every little detail of people I was friends with in real life. I would want to set the record straight and defend my friends while also respecting their privacy, and as a result I doubt I’d interact much anyway. I respect her choice to not discuss them at all, even the things seen on TV, and hope she will continue to make that choice no matter how annoying people asking her for info might get. (And to Pickles and anyone else who has crossed the line and sent her intentionally inflammatory messages/questions about the Duggars or hate for the sake of hate, please kindly delete your accounts and learn how to interact with actual humans in a respectful way.) 

When I got the string of anons asking me about Krista, I took a step back and tried to objectively examine why I followed Krista, why I continued to devote energy in responding to her posts, and if it was worth my time and emotional energy to continue doing so. The difference I found between Krista’s posts, which do often frustrate me, and posts from others who I have chosen to unfollow and/or block is the intent and context behind the posts. 

At the end of the day, Krista and I are very similar. We were both raised in very conservative families/churches, who had different plans for us than the lives we’ve chosen to pursue. We’ve both come to believe differently about God than the churches we were raised in. And we both know what it’s like to have to keep up appearances, especially online, in order to not destroy (or majorly hurt) relationships with people in our lives offline who it’s still important to maintain a relationship with. 

There are a couple big differences between us. First of all, I’m gay. I came to believe differently than the church I was raised in largely because I’ve had to just to be who I am and not feel depressed and suicidal all the time. When you grow up gay in a conservative family, life gives you two choices: shut off who you are and spend your life convincing yourself you are who you were told you were supposed to be or do major amounts of soul-searching to figure out who you are and how to accept yourself. When you’re already evaluating one major aspect of who you are and what you believe it becomes nearly impossible to not do that same evaluation on the other beliefs you were raised in. Because of this process, I’ve come to see a lot of hypocrisy and downright lies in the belief system I was raised in. This has pushed me into developing a pretty strong set of opinions, beliefs, and political stances that stand in stark contrast to my family and lifelong family friends. 

As a cisgendered straight woman, Krista did not have this huge thing forcing her to do major soul-searching. Despite this, she has done soul-searching, and seems to still be doing it. (It’s really a lifelong process, after all.) She has stepped out into a world that she likely didn’t consider being able to live in as a little girl. She’s pursued an educational and career path that’s impressive for even women who were raised being encouraged to focus on education, so for someone in her church and belief system to get to where she is is monumental, and for that I applaud her. So while I definitely disagree with her beliefs on a number of subjects, and will continue to say so (with thoughtful responses, not just complaints) when I feel her posts call for it, I am doing my best to remember that no one was born perfect, and she is still learning just as much as the rest of us are. I’ve said many times that I really do believe her intentions are good, and I stand by that belief. She’s learning. She’s trying. She may be one of the more conservative voices in our tumblr community, but many of us have admitted we used to be worse than we are now, and she’s come a long way from who she once was too. 

The other big difference between us, at least as far as tumblr goes, is that she has chosen to attach her name and face to her posts on here, and I have not. Many of you know who I am, follow me elsewhere, etc. That doesn’t change the fact that publicly, all you see is a food-based username and (currently) a photo of Jana Duggar on a boat. I share my first name, my age, and my general location. While someone who knew me offline could likely piece together my identity if they paid enough attention, I am careful to not overly-identify myself. This relative anonymity grants me the privilege of speaking freely online without worrying about offline consequences. Krista has not granted herself that same anonymity. I’m honestly a little embarrassed that I had never considered before the fact that she likely does not feel she can speak freely on Tumblr. I am very careful what I post on my other social media platforms. When my name and face are attached, I pretty much never mention LGBTQA issues for fear of outing myself and losing family members I’m not ready to lose. I don’t post about the abuses found in many Baptist churches or the lasting harmful effects I feel from my overly-religious childhood. This is partially to avoid a can of worms with a widespread ripple effect and partially out of respect for my parents and their desire to not have to defend me for believing things they don’t even agree with themselves. For Krista, the things she says here can and likely do affect her life offline, and it’s something that’s important to keep in mind when reading her posts. 

I don’t say all of this to say that Krista gets a pass for hurtful things she says. We all are still accountable for the things we say, and she has chosen to put herself in the position of having to choose between saying things that will hurt her offline life, censoring herself, or staying silent. There are topics I still wish she would just address openly or not at all. But at the end of the day, she has the same right to censor herself here as I do elsewhere, and I will be trying to keep that in mind going forward. When interacting with her privately, she’s only ever proven herself to be kind and open to hearing what I have to say. In the future, I may give her the same respect I often give my offline friends where I just send her a DM to clarify her intent of a seemingly rude or hateful post instead of just calling her out publicly. We’re all learning, Krista included. 

Social media, especially Tumblr, has given in to a dangerous mindset that’s often referred to as “cancel culture”. There are times when it is absolutely the right choice to “cancel” someone. Like I said at the beginning of my post, we have the right to choose what voices to allow into our feeds. We should all take advantage of that right and do what’s best for our mental health. I just think we should also be more mindful of context and intent when deciding whether or not to “cancel” someone. We all say we want young girls (and boys) in fundie communities to get out of that lifestyle and find better beliefs, but getting out doesn’t happen overnight. Many of us have the benefit of getting here after shedding many of our toxic beliefs. For those who aren’t there yet, I hope we will just remember to choose kindness and respect and do our best to be open to educating them without being hateful or derogatory. 

[ma9l]

Instagram and Depression (Project Proposal)

My purpose for this project is to research the concern of social media and the effects it has on mental health. More specifically, I am choosing to focus on Instagram and how its association with lower self esteem causes depression. It’s fairly obvious that the way we use social media can have significant effects on our mental health. Therefore, the more time we spend on Instagram, the more likely we are to develop low self esteem and become depressed. The reasons why and how this happens will be left up to my research.

I believe I am qualified to address the topic of Instagram and its connection with depression, because I use Instagram on a daily basis. I have a phone that I can use to easily access it. I’ve been using social media since I was ten, so for about ten years I have been exposed to a lot of information online and know what it’s like to feel overwhelmed after doing so. I haven’t been clinically diagnosed with depression, but it runs in my family so I have experienced some of the symptoms firsthand. Not only am I an Instagram user, but more importantly, I am actively engaged on Instagram. I post, comment, follow, read, like, send messages, etc. I have also been immersed in the downsides of it and notice that the more time I spend on it, the worse I feel about myself, and the more unproductive I am. I am interested in this topic because it is very prevalent today. Social media is not only used by myself, but by those I love too and because I care about others just as much, if not more than I care about myself, I want to become educated on this issue so I can help decrease its severity if at all possible.

One of the most obvious things I’ve noticed that inspired me to explore this topic is the act of comparison many individuals take part in which, in turn, leads to jealousy. Some common phrases I’ve heard have been similar to the following: “It’s not fair that they are in Hawaii! How can they even afford that? I wish I was there. My life sucks.” Or “ I swear, they are always happy. Nothing goes wrong in their life.” These common quotations along with many other variations suggest that the users of Instagram may not always reap the positive rewards of the platform. Due to the negativity in these exclamations, something is off, and it’s producing a negative atmosphere. Therefore, something needs to change.

Now, when it comes to thinking about how I will address this issue, a lot of questions come to mind that I intend to find answers to. A few of those questions are: why is Instagram so addictive? What kinds of posts/captions/comments tend to make people feel bad about themselves? What kind of people are most likely to be mentally hurt? What can people do to prevent themselves from being negatively impacted by Instagram? How do the users of Instagram compare to the users of other platforms (Twitter, Facebook, etc.)? How do social media users vs non social media users compare? What happens in the brain while viewing things on social media (i.e. the psychology behind it)? Finally, how much can one handle before falling into a deep bit of depression and despair-what is a common breaking point?

Everyone has their opinions and biases. I am concerned about whether what I believe has been proven true or not, but I am also open to counter views that say Instagram or similar social media platforms are not bad or a contributing factor in mental health. In other words, I am open to the clarification of Instagram’s benefits aside from its faults.

In the case of this specific topic, primary research (meaning directly collected data) may not be necessary, but I could see it being helpful to take part in because of how real the issue is and how its affecting those I know personally. This could be done by talking to friends or family who use Instagram and asking them how it’s made them feel overtime.

Secondary research sources, on the other hand, ought to have eye-opening results on this issue through formal interviews, articles, or graphs of people who have dealt with the negative effects of social media because of how popular the use of technology is these days. I am planning on analyzing those resources in further depth because those who have performed these research methods are critical thinkers who have trained, studied, and dedicated a large amount of time and effort towards understanding the correlation between social media use and mental health, thus making them credible.

In order to extend the length of my paper, I will dig deeper into my research by exploring depression and Instagram as two entirely different topics, and then fusing them back together and coming to understand how they relate and interweave. I will also insert quotations and data from reliable sources such as those listed above. I will scroll through online databases and see what knowledge I can gain from scholarly articles.

In summary, social media is widely used today and depending on the way it is used, mental health can be affected for better or worse. As far as Instagram goes, some factors that I have noticed are potentially liable for the way we feel are: extended amounts of time spent online, the “stress to impress”, and constant comparison whether it is done consciously or not.

If we could get down to the bottom of this issue and determine what’s causing this distress all across the globe, we could potentially help people be happier, decrease mental illnesses, prevent suicides, produce a more confident generation, learn better judgement skills, build healthier relationships, and so much more!

It’s evident that technology is all around us and it is up to us to decide whether we will use it for good or bad. We may not be able to control how others use it, but we can be responsible for our own mental health. Then, if we figure out how to use our phones and social media appropriately and sparingly, then we can end up being happier and improve our overall well being. It may even get to the point where our peers notice a new sense of optimism in us and want to know how they can have that in their lives too.

I think a lot of people want to know how to feel better, not only physically, but mentally, including myself. Through discovery and research on Instagram and its correlation with depression, we can gain a new perspective on how serious the depression epidemic is, and quite literally change people’s lives. That is so important and such a big deal. Why? Because people are suffering and that is NOT okay.

[annewithagee]

Know Love When You See It (1)

“I can’t do this, Gil. I can’t open this door. What it it’s too late? What if we came all this way only to find it was all for naught, because she... she..." A story in which Gilbert's health remains perfectly fine, but that's not enough to bring Anne peace. Alternate ending to AotI. Shirbert.

fanfiction.net / AO3

Chapter 1 A Love Letter

Rusty purred longingly, trying to get his young Mistress’s attention. Anne smiled gently at the sound and reached out to caress the determined feline and yet, her sight remained fixed on the book she held in her other hand,

It was clear that even Rusty didn’t have enough charm to make her abandon Lord Tennyson’s fine work.

“Really, Anne, I never imagined you’d be one to spoil a cat,” Stella scolded her gently. “You used to barely tolerate these animals, and even then you only approved of the clean, well-mannered ones. And here you are, letting the least mannered cat of all lie on Miss Patty’s lovely sofa and encouraging his stay!”

Anne barely looked up at her.

“We let the Sarah-cat and Thomas sleep on the finest of our cushions, darling,” she protested softly. “It wouldn’t be fair to treat Rusty differently. And his manners have improved immensely since we took him in, don’t you think?”

“Well, there wasn’t much to improve to start with.” Stella grimaced. “He had no manners at all – he could only go up from there.”

“I say the important part is that he decided to improve at all. I know what it’s like to be judged for the improper behaviour when there has been no one to teach you anything about it in the first place. I can only marvel at my own initial indifference and lack of understanding towards this unlucky fellow.”

“Oh, enough of this cat talk!” Phil interrupted impatiently then. “You better tell us about this book you’re reading, Queen Anne. You look as if you’ve been wanting to laugh for the past quarter and I am dying to find out why. I’d love to borrow that volume later, too; I could certainly use a good laugh right now.”

“You could always use a good laugh, Phil, no matter what your mood currently is,” Anne retorted cleverly. “And don’t make it sound as if you had any reasons to feel miserable.”

“Tease all you like, Anne, it won’t change a thing. I may be the one getting married next month, but that certainly doesn’t make me any less nervous, no matter how happy I am. I keep having these awful nightmares about Jo changing his mind and leaving me, or about my family suddenly deciding to oppose to the marriage and consequently ruining everything I have hoped for – right when I finally started to believe that I could pass for a respectable wife, even for a minister.”

“Dearest Phil, you know theses nightmares have nothing to do with your future,” Anne protested gently, suppressing a laugh caused by both Philippa’s words and the sight of Stella, mercilessly rolling her eyes at them. “You know Jonas loves you too much to ever give up on you, and even if your family decided to interfere with your happiness in any way – which I am sure they will not – you would not pay it much mind anyway.”

Phil sighed deeply as she sunk on the closest chair. “You are perfectly right, Queen Anne, as you usually are. You know, sometimes I wish I had your wisdom; but then I realise that Jo might not want me so much if I were and I immediately regret making any silly wishes. Anyway, you have not answered my question about your reading: what is it?”

Anne allowed herself a small chuckle this time.

“Something you would not find very amusing, I’m afraid,” she explained softly, her eyes returning to the pages in question. “I’ve been skimming through Lancelot and Elaine, stopping only when I came across the parts dearest to me.”

“And that’s what made you glow so much?” Stella joined the conversation once more. “Why, Anne, I’ve always known you had a rather queer taste in literature, but I would never assume you’d find such tragic poem comical.”

“It’s not so much the poem itself as the memory it brings. I remember discussing it at school in Avonlea, weeping and sighing over poor Elaine’s fate with my friends. I was the most emotional, of course, but the girls were not far behind me.”

Stella nodded with a little more understanding. “I can see how that’s amusing now, although I’d still expect a smile rather than a laughter as a natural reaction to it.”

“That’s because you haven’t heard the best part yet!” Anne responded with a sly smile and began recounting their unfortunate attempt to enact the aforementioned poem on the bright waters of Barry’s Pond. By the time Anne came to the infamous scene of the leaking boat, all three had been shaking with laughter, tears of joy glimmering in more than one pair of eyes.

“Really, Anne!” Phil exclaimed in what was supposed to be a stern tone but couldn’t be due to the cheerful trembling of her voice. “We have lived here together for nearly three years, have known each other for four and for all this time you have not thought it appropriate to treat us with a story like this! Why, I am sure you would have spared me at least one miserable night if you had.”

“She hath kept the good wine until now,” Stella answered, trying as she might to sound as serious and composed as the paraphrase required, and failing spectacularly. “I am only surprised she didn’t wait for Priss to come back – the poor girl will be devastated when she learns how much fun she has missed.”

“There is no need to worry about that,” Anne hastened to explain. “Priscilla had known the whole story long before we even arrived to Redmond and I can assure you that her reaction was every bit as fierce as yours.”

Stella pressed her hand against her chest and sighed with emphasis. “Oh, now I see! Priss gets to know everything in advance while we have to beg! Now, Anne, I am positively wounded!”

“And you two are getting off topic again!” Phil intervened again, this time throwing her arms high in the air for a better effect. “Truly, how you can focus on such nonsense when the great finale is still ahead of us is beyond me.”

“You were the one who started it!” Anne contradicted her with another short laugh.

“I beg your pardon, but my comment was fully justified and in some ways it still referred directly to the story you had told. But enough of this! How did you get off that bridge, Anne?”

The auburn-haired girl chuckled again, a little nervously this time, as she lowered her eyes and fixed them on the text once more.

“That is the part in which my pride suffers most,” she said quietly, forcing a light, careless tone that suddenly felt so inappropriate. “You see, I didn’t really mind climbing that pole – of course, it was uncomfortable and comical, and very different from the romantic scene I had envisioned; but at least there was no one there to see me. And all I needed to do was to hold onto that pole until Mr Barry came to help me out in my distress. He would laugh, of course, but I couldn’t care much for it – he had been an eye-witness to my antics too many times already. Unfortunately, my rescue came from a different party entirely.”

Anne expected her friends to interrupt her with more witty remarks; however, they made none.

“There was...” she picked up hesitantly. “There was a boy in our class, who went rowing on Barry’s Pond that day. He saw me and came closer, offering to take me to the shore in his flat.”

“How romantic,” Stella mused teasingly at that.

“Oh, hardly!” Anne protested vigorously, as if she had been fourteen again, listening to Diana’s most ridiculous comments. “I have never thought of my classmates in terms of romance, but it wouldn’t have been half so bad – half so humiliating – had it been any other boy than the one that came. Dear me, how I hated him then! I had been angry with him before, but it was nothing compared to what I felt on that moment under the bridge.”

“And is there any chance we might know the poor chivalrous knight?” Phil asked, wriggling her eyebrows meaningfully. “Could it be Charles and his big, bulging eyes?”

Anne’s own big eyes widened in surprise at her friend’s abrupt assumption.

“No, not at all!” she denied firmly. “I have never hated Charlie, although I have never been particularly fond of him, either. In fact, I think I’ve always cared too little for him to hold any such strong feelings towards him.”

“Poor Charlie,” Stella remarked with an absolute lack of sympathy. “But if not him, then who?”

“The same boy I had ignored for the three years prior and continued to do so for another two, both at school and at Queen’s – and whom, I believe, you have got to know quite well during our stay here.”

Stella was close to choking on her astonishment. “You mean...”

“Gilbert Blythe, yes,” Anne admitted with a small smile. “And I truly wished it had been anyone but him back then.”

“Not so fast, my dear,” Phil exclaimed now. “I know you and Gilbert have not always been friends – it’s certainly hard to call you friends now – but you can’t tell me you used to hate him!”

“Oh, but I did! Or at least, I wholeheartedly believed so.”

“The same Gilbert who is always so kind and considerate, no matter how little he likes the company he’s in?”

“No, the one who had pulled my braid and called me ‘Carrots’ on our very first day of school.” Anne countered cleverly, her smile widening at the sight of shock that had reflected on her friend’s faces almost immediately. “Well, I suppose you didn’t expect to hear that about him.”

“And that’s why you weren’t friends for so long?” Stella asked with disbelief.

Anne nodded, regaining some of her temporarily lost composure. “We were sworn enemies at the time – at least I was. Gilbert tried to apologise and make things right, but my eleven year old self wouldn’t hear of it; and then I suppose I kept thinking of him in that way because my rise and sense of dignity demanded it. Not to mention, I’ve always had that bit of a competitive strike, and since Gilbert soon turned out to be the only real rival, beating him in class became another matter of honour to me.”

“And you didn’t make your peace that day by the pond?” Phil asked again.

“No,” Anne responded, with a little bit of melancholy – sentiment – embarrassment ringing in her voice. “It was the last time my pettiness made itself known and consequently robbed us both of two years of friendship. He went furious – as furious as someone of Gilbert’s personality can be, anyway – snapped and walked away. He had been a rival before, but he had never seemed to care much about it… But after that encounter he became just as ruthless as I had been from the start.”

“In that case, I suppose your fiery arguments here at Redmond were not even half as bad as we all thought,” Phil muttered under her breath. “It must have been nothing compared to what you two had done at school.”

Anne smiled more sincerely now. “Oh, you should have seen us then. Poor Miss Stacy barely managed to answer our overly grown hunger for knowledge, not to mention that we must have been a terrible distraction from other students, who undoubtedly needed her attention much more than we did. In the end she would just give us more to read, if only to make us stay quiet for a moment at least.”

It was Phil’s turn to nod. “You two really have a history.”

“That we do,” Anne agreed a little wistfully. She brightened up the next moment, however. “But, as one of my dearest friends often says, enough of this! The story was meant to cheer you up, not to make us go down some cold, hostile memory lane. We still have a whole afternoon ahead of us, and I’m not going to waste it in any way. We only have a few short days before we leave Patty’s Place for good, and I am determined to make the most of it – and you don’t even try to talk yourselves out of it!”

“And what would you have us do, Queen Anne?” Stella asked a little sceptically, for which she received a frown from Phil. Seeing the exchange, Anne could hardly do more than laugh wholeheartedly at them.

“I have no idea, my dearest Kindred Spirits!” she cried out with eagerness that didn’t match her words nor the atmosphere from mere moments earlier and yet, her voice resonated with sincerity that could not have been denied. “We can dance and we can sing, or we can leave the house and set off on a journey, if only it doesn’t take us too far away from this most beloved place. I once said that I had two homes – Green Gables and Patty’s Place – and I can’t tell you how happy I am that my feelings towards that matter have not changed at all. It is reassuring to know that one can truly love more than just one place so much.”

“I suppose it must be so, or no one would ever find happiness after they married – save for the people who stayed in their own houses and those who never loved their homes in the first place,” Stella concluded.

Anne nodded in agreement with her words. “It is very true, but let’s not forget those who must leave their homes for reasons other than marriage. Oh, Phil, please don’t give me that look, even if I have deserved it. I know you are still angry with me for what happened yesterday, but I promise you, it has nothing to do with what I meant.”

“What did you mean, then?” Phil asked calmly, refraining from a more blatant comment that was springing to her lips.

“I meant us. Four college girls, thrown into a new life, away from their families, their neighbours, away from the people and places they care for so much. It could have been such miserable four years, full of stress and loneliness, with homesickness threatening to take over us any minute – and instead they were four years of great friendships, and three of them have been spent here. I’m not sure if I could have born to go through the many challenges Redmond had in store, had it not been for the sense of safety this place has given me.”

“Oh, and here I thought it was our unconditional love and support that had pushed you through!” Stella exclaimed, her hand once again flying to her chest in a dramatic gesture. “Now, you have really hurt my feelings, Anne. Excruciatingly!”

Anne laughed wholeheartedly at her friend’s words, basking in the joy this wonderful comradeship could give.

“Tease all you like -” she said with confidence. “you will not succeed in ruining my good spirits. The day is just too lovely for any sort of pettiness; you can say whatever you want and I won’t take offence. I’m in a forgiving mood – I feel you that if the worst of my enemies came to visit me today, I could not hold grudge against them.”

“Poor Gilbert!” Phil cried out then. “If only he had known that day would come, he might have waited for it, instead of trying to make peace with you over some pond only minutes after he had so unnecessarily rescued you!”

Anne did not find the comment worthy of her answer and decided to resort to violence instead. In one swift motion she grabbed the nearest cushion and threw it at Phil, hitting her right in her smiling face; the latter squeaked in shock but caught the missile in perfect reflex and threw it back at her aggressor without hesitation.

That was the setting in which Priscilla found them in.

“I leave you alone for an hour and you turn into children we used to teach!” she exclaimed in the tone of a perplexed matron, as if she had been at least a decade older than her frivolous friends. “Truly, Anne, what would the board of Avonlea school think if they saw what their favourite schoolmarm does when left unsupervised?”

“I have never been their favourite, so how would I know?” Anne answered her question laughingly, catching the cushion that had once again flown in her direction; however, she refrained from tossing it back. Priscilla raised her gaze to the ceiling, most probably asking the Good Lord to give her patience necessary for dealing with the force her companions undoubtedly were.

“They should take away your B. A.s for behaving like this,” she muttered under her breath as she shrugged off her coat and took off her hat. “I’m not surprised to see Anne or Phil act like that, but you, Stella? Why, I believed you to be the sensible one at least.”

“Don’t lump me together with them,” Stella opposed. “These two won’t listen to anyone and certainly not me.”

“They better do listen to me, though, because I have some great news that should interest them. I’ve been to the post office and there was at least half a dozen letters addressed to us.”

“And I bet half of those are for Phil,” Anne commented teasingly, standing up and approaching Priscilla, ready to take some of the many packages the other girl had brought with her. “Let me take these, Priss, as I’m sure none of those letters are for me. After all, I never receive any letters on Monday.”

“How can you be so sure?” Priscilla asked suggestively. “What if I told you that it’s your turn to receive Phil’s usual, ridiculous share?”

Anne shook her head vigorously. “Impossible! The only letters I am waiting for are the ones from Green Gables and those always arrive on Wednesday, and sum up the whole previous week, together with Mrs Lynde’s great commentary on the minister’s latest sermon.”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t change the fact that one of these letters really has you name written on it – and the handwriting does look to me as if it was Mrs Lynde’s, indeed.”

“It can’t be,” Anne repeated; but the treacherous smile was beginning to blossom on her joyful countenance and not a minute passed before she had whipped the envelope from Priscilla’s hand and pressed in to her chest, barely deigning the item with a glance.

“This truly is the most wonderful of days!” she said excitedly. “Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, you bring this! Dear Priss, you really are a herald of good news!”

And with that she ran towards the sofa and sank on it once more, impatient to learn the contents of the letter that had already gladdened her so much.

“My, my, Anne!” Phil remarked with a dry smile and a slight rise of her eyebrows. “Judging from your excitement, one could think it is a love letter you are holding; if I didn’t know any better, I would swear it was Roy Gardner who had written to you again.”

“Oh, but it as a love letter, and it’s the most beautiful one – better than any suitor could ever send!”  Anne protested firmly, glancing from over the letter with her bright eyes. “No one has ever loved me more dearly than those who lived at Green Gables and I doubt anyone ever could. Green Gables letters always are the most affectionate ones; even if sometimes I am the only one who can feel and see it hidden between the lines.”

“Even if those lines are written by Mrs Rachel Lynde?” Priss asked.

Anne nodded eagerly.

“Even if,” she confirmed resolutely. “Mrs Lynde is a dear soul and a true Kindred Spirit, even if our first encounter seemed to prove the opposite; besides, it never is just Mrs Lynde that writes, although she addresses the envelopes to spare Marilla the trouble. Oh, I can’t wait to read about all the scrapes Davy has got himself in since the last time! I did not expect this letter to come for the next two days and now I can’t imagine delaying it for another minute!”

The three friends gifted her with the same bemused look before chuckling cheerfully.

“Well, in that case I suggest you go to your room at once, Miss Anne,” Phil advised with feign seriousness. “Otherwise you’ll just keep talking to us and we’ll never get to learn what this precious letters is really about.”

“I am not going anywhere.” Anne protested for the last time. “I will sit here for the whole time and share all of the best parts with you immediately. Oh, what a feast this is going to be!”