military graveyard

What the ever loving fuck is wrong with you people?

You people  You Antis, NST, Truthers, Haters, wtfer name you want to be called or are called. You people. You know I’m talking to you @noshippingallowed @contemplatingoutlander @goldenoutlander @adhara112 @aliceinoutlanerland (oops you forgot the d in outlander. get a d.) @whylimewhyanything (put the lime in the coconut) @whoreallyknowswho (it’s whom! whom! unless you just forgot to finish your sentence) @prodigiousreblogger @bestof60 (are you 60?) @vividdreamer318 (your imagination is certainly leading you astray) @breezylouisey (is that you weezy?) @momofmusa (i thought you were mom of USA lol)  @alittlebitmasss (oops your s key got stuck)
Anyway, there are more of you and I’m sorry I didn’t give you a moment of thrill by acknowledging you by name but I mentioned the Tumblr accounts that I’ve seen making horrendously wild, hateful, fictional, hurtful accusations against other Outlander fans with no speck of proof - accusations meant to inspire others to emulate you and spread hate to those people as well. Let me get this straight. From what I can tell, you are super hopping mad about the content of certain Twitter and Instagram accounts. Fine. Totally fine. You are entitled to your opinions. I can see why those accounts might make some people mad. I mean, irrelevant to my life but maybe not yours.  You are mad that certain Twitter and Instagram accounts have been created for the sole purpose of throwing shade and mocking a certain celebrity you hold in high esteem. I get that. Fine. Be outraged! Express yourselves!!
Speaking of fine I know you will go through this post with a fine toothed comb for anything you can argue with and attack me over because god forbid you actually read the message, digest the information, thoughtfully consider the content and then share your thoughts and opinions and maybe answer some of my questions. Nope that’s not your style. Attack attack attack half-cocked and don’t put any thought or concern for reality into it. Yes you are the borg of Antis as the foil to the Shippers. I didn’t create that world, you did. You wanted to be the anti-shippers. You are gathered on Tumblr together to be this Anti-Shipper fighting army. Go forth and fight uhh I guess? WHY???? 
See, shippers are motivated by love. That’s really obvious. There are all types of shippers just as there are all types of people (and even all types of antis), but what brings them together is not just their love of Outlander (and you guys love Outlander too! Whee we have something in common) but their love of the LOVE parts of Outlander and all the LOVE associated with Outlander in promos, BTS, interviews, Q&As, social media banter between the cast and crew, etc. LOVE is LOVE is LOVE is LOVE is LOVE is LOVE is LOVE is LOVE. So you generally don’t see shippers on social media attacking people with hatred and lies and accusations of criminal activity. Wait wait wait. Correction! YOU see shippers doing those things but no one else does. You mostly see shippers doing those things with accounts that aren’t even recognized shipper names. They are basically troll accounts that you have deduced are shipper accounts. You do have these long convoluted narratives of what certain shippers are alleged to have done and you bandy them about so frequently that your telephone game grows legs and walks it’s own marathon and becomes some weird beast-mode attack shipper who does horrible things. You say you SAW these things but you haven’t. Show me a tweet, a facebook post, an instagram post from an Outlander fan who identifies herself as a shipper and has a known persona in the fandom and is attacking, hating, committing these horrendous crimes you claim. What I mean is, SHOW ME THE MONEY! SHOW ME PROOF to back up your narrative. You have specifically named a number of Outlander fans and made outrageous claims as to their character, behavior, beliefs, actions, off-line actions and more. YOU HAVE NO PROOF BECAUSE THESE STORIES ARE FICTION.
I’ll give you an example of how your lies have grown wings, run a marathon and turned into beast-mode:
So a certain blue check account posts that a certain object of your hatred and hate-mongering did something so illegal that she would have been arrested and would still be in jail. You all headnod, mouth breath, feel righteous for having attacked her because you were soooo right, bang away at your keyboards and continue the lies and hatred and stoke the fires for uhhh fun? Yet you all know that she isn’t in jail and couldn’t have done this highly illegal thing because you watch her every move and you saw her posting pics of herself just last weekend participating in a fitness event. Hmmmm. Are you collectively dumbing each other down with your groupthink or all you all that stupid? YOU KNOW IT’S A LIE. But you’ve all convinced each other it’s ok to lie about it, malign, spread hatred and misinformation about certain fans and tarnish their reputation in the fandom because… because? because why??? Help me out here. So it’s because someone has said rude bad things to an actress you believe is Sam Heughan’s girlfriend even though he has never once said so. You BELIEVE it so it’s your reality. And the fans that you malign? You do that because they believe something else. But the weirdest thing is that you do malign them by tossing out totally unfounded and false accusations about their behavior and ascribe all kinds of unsavory activities, motives, and behaviors to these fans you have chosen to malign. You do the thing to them that you so claim to hate they are doing to the objects of your admiration. 
I’m still working on this and I still need your help. So because you BELIEVE that two actors are dating and BELIEVE that it’s wrong that internet trolls make claims that they are not and some internet trolls say really rude things and tag them, you feel fully justified in making claims that the trolls are not just trolls but actual recognizable Outlander fans. Are you like shippers of trollworld or something? 
I’ll just come right out and say it. Kim Hickey is not behind any of those trolls accounts you claim she is. I know this and you know this. You know which accounts are legitimately hers because she identifies herself. You are even attacking her My Peak Challenge account that she posts inspirational memes and encourages people to donate to Bloodwise. Are you for fucking real? You’re attacking a charity endeavor in your blind hatred of…. hatred of who fucking knows.  Even if you didn’t know she wasn’t behind the troll accounts, you absolutely have no basis for claiming she is. You are making shit up and publicly proclaiming it as truth just like that thing that Shippers do that you claim to hate.  Also, let’s talk about me:  I am a public person online. I don’t hide behind cutesy names. You can look me up and it won’t even be doxing me because it’s all right there, isn’t it? I have no sock accounts. I put my name on all my accounts because I own what I say and share. This tumblr account was created in the middle of last summer as a parody of Starz Obsessable campaign therefore it did not need my name on it. I never had a Tumblr account before that and I have never even sent anons on Tumblr. I never pretended I was anyone else or made any attempt to be anyone else. I posted freely about myself and my life when it was topical, including photos of myself. If you were like BINGO I’m such a supersleuth I figured out who is behind that blog!! you’re not smart or observant. It was obvious. The thing is, though, shippers didn’t know who I was. Not because they didn’t know who was behind “Obsessive Sassenach” but because they didn’t know who Nipuna was. Isn’t that funny? One of the Outlander fans on the top of your BAD SHIPPER LIST WHO MUST BE EXTERMINATED list isn’t even known by other shippers. What makes me a shipper? Just that I have heart eyes for Sam and Cait and think they have chemistry and oh wait, whoah, ZOMG, Arthur Kade thinks that too. Josh Horowitz does too! and ummmm ummmm that one lady at TCA that one year and that one book author who was on the NYT best seller list and you know I could go on. It’s not a crime to be fully happy to enjoy Sam and Caitriona’s chemistry. And if that makes me a shipper, yay. But the only reason I’m actually a known component of the shipper community now is because you guys have dragged my name around and created ridiculous lies about me. It’s like I’m some sort of Shipper Legend (to you, not shippers) who does these super crazy Shipper things in AntiLand. Remember the grave story that was created by one of you weirdos because a family friend of mine who is a caretaker for a military graveyard in the USA was friends with Sam’s father? You guys turned it into: That Crazy Shipper Nipuna stalks Sam’s father’s grave in hopes of running into him and Caitriona making a baby on his dad’s grave in Scotland. Or something like that. Anyway, tour bus guides in Scotland think there are crazy Outlander fans who stalk Sam at his father’s grave but if they stop to think they realize they don’t even know if he has a grave or if it’s even in Scotland. 
You’re maligning the whole fucking fandom you freaks! You’re creating these outrageous, convoluted piece of fiction because you are all worked up about uhh something and then you tag other nasty people and get them to repeat the stories and then the stories get embellished and repeated and you sit back and watch the telephone game continue. But don’t you realize that you’re fucking the whole thing up for yourselves too? I mean, I guess not if you like chaos and mayhem. But most of you profess to care about people being nice and kind and cry out that bullying is bad and wrong. But then you do just that when you pick an Outlander fan and create detailed and convoluted lies about her behavior.  The people you lie about know they are lies, sure. And lots of other people know they are lies and ignore you, but you repeat the lies over and over and you know that saying about how if you repeat a lie often enough people will start to believe you. So you repeat and repeat and then sit back and with self satisfied smiles. Or maybe it’s just that your mouth is open because you’re breathing through it. Whatever. I don’t know your motives. I don’t know what attracts you to fan the way you do. I don’t know what fulfills you. I know it’s not LOVE. But do you even know? Are you just running around half-cocked and brainless and letting yourselves be lied to? What gives? Can you help me understand why you are constantly naming and targeting certain people and pointing others to attack them and if that doesn’t work creating stories that will hopefully motivate them to attack? WHY???

4

Zeitenlik (Greek: Ζέιτενλικ, Serbian Cyrillic: Зејтинлик) is an Allied military cemetery and memorial park in Thessaloniki, the largest in Greece. It contains the graves mostly of the Serbian (c.7000), but also of French (c.8000), British, Italians (3000), Russian soldiers and Bulgarians POW, who died in the battles on the Salonika front during World War I. The complex is located on the place where the Main Hospital of the Serbian Army was located during the war.

The name comes from the Turkish word Zeytin which means Olive. It can be translated as Olive plantation. It is located on Lagkada street, about 1.5 km from the city centre.

pictures by duke–valentino

Somewhere in everyone’s inner city is a cemetery of old loves. For the lucky contented people who like where they are in their lives and who they’re with, it is a mostly forgotten place. The tombstones are faded or overturned, the grass uncut, brambles and wild flowers grow everywhere.
For other people, however, their place is as stately and ordered as a military graveyard. Its many flowers are well watered and tended, the white gravel walks carefully raked. All indications that this spot is visited often.
For most of us, our cemetery is a hodgepodge. Some sections are neglected or fully ignored. Who cares about these stones, or the past loves who lie beneath them? Even most of their names are hard to remember. But other stones are important whether or not we like to admit it. We visit them often, sometimes too often, truth be told.
One can never tell how we’ll feel when these cemetery visits are over— sometimes lighter, sometimes heavier. It is entirely unpredictable how we’ll feel going back home to today.
—  Jonathan Carroll

bonesbuckleup  asked:

Man, you know, you don't tag angst very often but when you do you BLOW EVERYONE ELSE OUT OF THE WATER so good job you.

Good, ‘CAUSE— 

I didn’t really extrapolate on this in the tags BUT oh man, he locks the door, he stares at his reflection in the bathroom, at the Barnes Cross (his old wing-shaped patch, now silver on a dark red background), at his long pulled-back hair that he refuses to cut (OH DEAR DON’T LET ME GO INTO MY FEELINGS ABOUT HOW AT FIRST BUCKY REFUSES TO WEAR HIS OLD HAIRCUT, HOW HE KNOWS THE REFLECTION WON’T LOOK THE SAME BECAUSE NOW HE CAN ACTUALLY REMEMBER WHAT HE USED TO BE (how Steve asks him about it once, maybe twice when Bucky was released from SHIELD containment and rehabilitation, when Bucky moved into his apartment, even offered to do it himself like they used to in the old Brooklyn sinks, but Buck flat out says “no” each time and that’s that)). Anyway, he watches himself in the mirror, looks at the pressed suit that would have fed him and Steve and the rest of the block for at least a year; it’s almost comforting how it covers most of his body, except for when his metal fingers poke through and then it’s devastating. He can’t feel the fabric on that side. He looks at the Cross pinned to his breast.

He almost throws it in the garbage can.

It’s just a piece of metal, sentimental and…

He never had need for things before. Everything was provided for him, though usually never as an option. Unfreeze, warm him up, run tests, get dressed, await transport, here are your orders, go, mission complete, debrief, freeze again. He doesn’t remember eating a lot unless a higher up ordered some underling to “feed it.”  He doesn’t remember being hungry after the first so-many missions, even when out in the field for days. This medal is just as extraneous as everything Tony and Sam and Steve have provided for him. (Why does he need four pairs of shoes?) His room in Stark Tower is a testament to how little he can survive on. (They forced a mattress and headboard on him; sleep was another thing he hasn’t needed or done in so long, he just remembers going cold and then… cold again, but waking up this time.) In the old days, if he was really desperate, he might have hocked it for grocery money or a heating bill in the winter. As the Winter Soldier, he would have handed it over to whoever acted as his handler. (Oh, don’t even ask about what they did to him in the beginning when he first tried to keep things, trinkets—a white smooth stone from a river in South America, a handful of pine needles from Siberia, a stolen bracelet from a vendor in Pakistan—something to jog his memory even though they were bound to wipe him clean.)

And he’s unworthy, anyway.

He’s alive. He didn’t even know that he was supposed to be dead.

Steve calls it a miracle sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly maudlin. In all of the world, in all of the chances, they found each other again. Bucky fell off a fucking train (they don’t bring this up much; Buck counters it with Steve plunging out of buildings and a fiery helicarrier) and they’re still together some eighty years later.

Hydra had him. But Buck didn’t care it was the bad guys he killed for. He didn’t want to know. He doesn’t deserve…

And maybe his hand, the fleshy one, trembles as he closes it over his breast and thinks of the people who do deserve this honor.

Riley was awarded this, the Barnes Cross. Sam has pictures of him in his living room, on the wall and more stored in his laptop, one on his phone. He talks about him often, not every day but enough that Bucky understands. It’s healthy, it’s therapy, Sam explained, to be able to talk about Riley. Sometimes he doesn’t mention his fallen partner for weeks at a time, just because he feels like he doesn’t have to. He knows he can and will. Buck doesn’t think Steve ever did this, never talked to the other Commandos or Avengers or SHIELD operatives about the late Bucky. Maybe about James Buchanan Barnes, but Bucky? Who knows. Steve is so tight-lipped about some things.

Sam will probably get questions about this. He can already see the interviews. How would your brother-in-arms, your best friend, feel about this? About a known traitor receiving this award? Does it mean anything, now that we know its original recipient wasn’t all as loyal or as dead as we thought? Doesn’t that sort of go against the point, if he was never dead to begin with? He didn’t give his life in duty, in valor. He lived and much longer than Jack Riley ever did.

But Sam Wilson is a good man. Of course he’ll defend Bucky and Riley and everyone else. Bucky just doesn’t know if he wants him to.

There’s a cross in France with his name on it, though it’s nowhere near where he fell, and one in a DC military graveyard and one untended gravestone in a small fenced Brooklyn plot. He’d rather just throw this medal in along with the others that sit in preserved capsule box where his empty coffin should be. Doesn’t matter which one.

Regardless, to dishonor this medal now would be to dishonor all of its former recipients, even his old self, the one that swims before him and looks vaguely like his current reflection—shorter hair, no dark circles, smile, eyes like water. So he keeps it pinned, for Riley and Sam. For the people, good and evil, that he’s shot down like flies.

His muscles are tensed and skin taut when he walks out again, though no one can tell with his suit on. Natasha and Clint can tell, but they’re both hawks in their own respects. The mottled scars rippling around his metal arm tug slightly from the tension.

He sits down.

Someone tries to say something—probably Steve. His hearing remains at full capacity, but his listening skills are starting to shut down, noises and conversations becoming a long continuous drone. The speeches and awards are over for the night, now it’s just after-party dinner stuff. Polite small talk and friendly wine.

Is that Natasha moving? …No, she sits back down.

His breathing slows until it looks like he’s stopped. But it’s still there, ghosting in and out of his lungs. They have Dr. Banner seated next to Pepper who is next to Tony, who is on Bucky’s right ready to fix arm-relate emergencies. (Thor is on his left, his dangerous side, as he is one of the only people who could easily match his mechanical strength without destroying Harlem; hypothetically, if Bucky snaps (again) Thor will distract/constrain while Tony moves in from behind to disengage the appendage.) Anyway, Bruce is the one who taught him how to regulate his breathing, how to put himself into a trance that wouldn’t trigger trained instincts. The Winter Soldier could do it anyway (how to empty a mind that’s already been made blank?) but it was advantageous to have supervised and improved methods.

Now stop thinking.

No more Cross.

Steve will double tap his right shoulder when it’s time to go.

They’ll unfreeze him soon enough.

*deep inhale*