#this is me desperately trying to understand where all of my people are

[matan4il]

The other day, I went with my rl bff to the Jerusalem branch of the Museum of Tolerance for an exhibition on the Hamas massacre.

This is the sight that greeted us. "Esthers of the world, rise up!"

It's a poster celebrating two women whose families had lived in Iran, one is Jewish, the other is Muslim, and both women ended up being murdered due to the Islamic regime of that country, even though the Jewish woman's family had escaped Iran and fled to Israel after the Islamic revolution. The face of each girl is actually a composite, made from many smaller pictures of her people who have lost their lives because of the Islamist regime of Iran.

I knew this right away, because I have shared a piece that was done about the poster and how it came to be almost 2 months ago. 

"You don't understand!" my bff (who works as a teacher) said, all emotional, "She," my friend points to the Jewish girl on the left side of the poster, Shirel Haim Pour, "is the cousin of one of my students."

There is zero distance in Israel between us and the Oct 7 atrocities. 

We go in and join the tour of the exhibition. The guide tells us it was built jointly with Malki Shem Tov, who is a well known name in Israel, if you work at a museum. Malki founded a "creative visual solutions" company with his brother Assaf, through which among other things, they helped build many Israeli exhibitions over the years. "His son..." the tour guide starts to say and I don't need more than that for something to click in my head. I know so many of the names, faces and stories of the hostages, and so Omer Shem Tov pops right away into my mind. I didn't make the connection before, but now I can only imagine what it meant for this father to work on an exhibition that recounts, among other stories, how his son was victimized and robbed of his freedom during this massacre.

There is zero distance in Israel between us and the Oct 7 atrocities. 

The opening wall has a huge time stamp, 6:29 in the morning. 

The tour guide doesn't have to explain this number to Israelis, or why it's designed to look like an alarm clock display. We were all woken up on that fateful Saturday morning by the alarm clock of Hamas' rockets. And it doesn't matter what we thought or believed the day before, as the full scale and horror of the attack were starting to become known along Oct 7, we were all woken up.

There is zero distance in Israel between us and those atrocities. I know this, and still it strikes me, again and again.

There's an area dedicated to the pictures of one photographer who went to the south soon after the massacre. I knew some of them already, like the pic showing the bodies of 13 elderly Israelis, who were on their way to a tour of the Israeli south on that Saturday.

Some are new, like the pic of the door handle in one bomb shelter. I stop for a second, because now that I've moved into my new place, it hits me that the bomb shelter door was made by the same company. Suddenly, I feel like I'm inside the picture in a reality where the terrorists took a slightly different route on Oct 7. The door was photographed from inside the bomb shelter, and the bullets that pierced it, they had to have hit the personal holding it shut. The handle has blood stains on it, and it's broken off. I can only imagine how many hours this person held, and how much force they had to use, for that to happen. I know one thing, even without knowing exactly who this bomb shelter belonged to... If this person was on their own, they would have probably ended up surrendering rather than keep fighting to hold on to the handle this desperately. This was likely someone trying to keep their family safe. 

One note retrieved from the body of a terrorist is on display. It says everything about the motivation of the monsters who committed these atrocities, and every word is purely motivated by antisemitism and religious zeal. The note is actually not in Arabic, as it may first appear, it's in Farsi, the language spoken in Iran, hinting at the source, the Islamist regime there, which doesn't care about the liberation of anyone, it aspires to create a global network of fanatic terrorism.

The translation: "You must sharpen the blades of your swords and be pure in your intentions before Allah. Know that the enemy is a disease that has no cure, except beheading and uprooting the hearts and livers. Attack them!"

There is a section dedicated to women's stories. The exhibition visitors spread out to watch the testimonies, each on a separate screen. It's a not like a forest, you can't really see it for the trees, and it's another moment of feeling overwhelmed because we can't truly get it. It's just not comprehensible, facing so many stories about intentional, face to face cruelty, brutality, sadism and joy in it. Mali Shoshana tells the story of how she tried to play dead while lying shot in a pool of her own blood, but her body wouldn't stop shaking, so she somehow turned on her side to the wall and knocked her injured knee against it, causing herself to pass out from the pain. It saved her life. Ricarda Louk tells the story of the last message they got from her daughter Shani, trusting she was right and there was nothing for them to worry about. Then Ricarda's son started screaming and crying, because he saw the same vid many of came across on that day, of his sister being dragged into Gaza stripped down, mutilated, abused, molested and humiliated, while Gazan civilians were celebrating the public degradation of her body. And there's more and more and more. "You can come back and continue to listen," the guide promises as he moves us to the next segment, but the truth is no matter how many stories I've listened to and absorbed, it still doesn't feel like enough.

There is a wall with the head shots of the victims in Israel who lost their lives due to this war, whether they were murdered on Oct 7 or since, but it's only been updated up until Mar 27 of this year. Even so, no matter what angle I tried, I couldn't fit in all of the pictures.

Interactive screens allow a geographic telling of the massacre's story. They show maps of Israel's south, with dots on them, red for the murdered, dark blue for hostages, bright blue for hostages who have been returned, grey for the injured. You can tap a dot and read a story. Or you can zoom out and try to comprehend how is it possible for there to be that many dots on the maps.

"From darkness to light," reads the exhibition title. That's the perception of time in Judaism. We always move from darkness to light. And there's a section for the light, for stories of resilience, of bravery, of rehabilitation, of mutual support and caring. Filmed interviews that do their best to summarize an incomprehensible amount of good we've seen in response to an incomprehensible amount of evil. It features people from every demographic in Israel, and in that way also serves as a reminder of just how diverse we are as a society.

This part, I think to myself, was included for visitors from abroad. We Israelis, we know.

There's one story I know already. Tomer Greenberg, an Israeli officer, rescued on Oct 7 baby twins from the carnage. He was later killed fighting in Gaza. Like a puzzle, I've heard this story from several angles, including from Tomer before he died. This movie features an interview I hadn't heard yet, with the volunteer paramedic that Tomer handed the twins to. Shalom, this medic, talks about how they clung to him desperately as they got to be fed and feel safe and cared for again for the first time in what's estimated to have been 14 hours. I'm sitting there, thinking of those babies crying, not understanding why their parents aren't coming to feed them, and I don't know how to deal with this.

Shalom shares that the experiences of Oct 7 have inspired him to try and become a combative soldier, something that wasn't on the cards for him before that. I wonder again at people who can act like subjecting an entire (already traumatized) society to a sadistic massacre can liberate anyone.

And I understand Shalom fully. When your family is in the pits of hell, there's nowhere you want to be other than there, with them, doing what you can, rather than sit and watch helpless from afar. Most people would say he did a lot on that day. Shalom must have felt like that still wasn't enough.

At the very end, visitors are invited to add their own little piece of light, through neon notes and pens on which they'd share their thoughts. Nothing feels like it can sum everything I'm thinking and feeling up, but not writing anything feels worse, so my bff and I add a few of our words to the notes.

I don't have any profound conclusions for this post anymore than I did for my note. I just know that this still hurts, that we're still losing people daily, that we can't begin to heal, because we're still in the middle of the wound being inflicted. But I also know that we WILL heal, that even if the wound can't be closed yet, our collective immune system kicked into action on Oct 7 already, that we will continue to share the pain and the comfort and the care, and this massacre and war will probably never stop hurting, that we'll never be the same, but eventually we will be alright. Where people choose to care, there's just no other option.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[chaifootsteps]

The funny thing about stolas is that he really is the most real depiction of NPD I’ve seen in a while. Unintentionally very well written. This show like few others ever do, explores the fact that people with NPD can be so socially inept and incapable of change they can ruin their own life and never fully understand why it happened. A stereotype is that NPD patients are always evil abusers but sometimes like with covert narcissism, it’s complicated. Stolas ticks every last box in the covert category.

He’s not outright a villain but is infuriatingly self centred, and destructive. One example is all of his “I” “me” “my” statements in every situation. Fizz is in danger ‘this will be fun (for me!) I love words!” While it was a good gesture to help Asmodeus, he makes things about himself again. And this made Ozzie mad. And in the latest argument he clearly forced himself to try and empathise with someone but gave up right away when it wasn’t going well and went back to the same I/me/my statements. “I have my answer so you needn’t say any more” “I didn’t know you thought so low of me” and to Stella “I want you out..out of my life” “via you have been the one good thing in my life” Even in a desperate situation where someone he undoubtedly loves, but who he hurt with his lies, is leaving him, he physically can’t stop making it about himself because of this disordered way of thinking. And in a way, that is sad.

It really is a disorder and not just villainy because the person with NPD has grandiosity and callousness, that combination prevents them from seeing a problem in their own behaviour until really pushed. (Who does that sound like) So without help, they end up alone and confused/bewildered by why that is. That reaction of blatant frustration from every single character who speaks with him - via, blitz, Asmodeus, (I don’t feel right including stella but that dinner table scene implies she’s angry he ignores her) is so accurate too.

I mean, I’m by no means a Stella fan but after that confrontation in LooLoo land and him screaming his divorce declaration in the circus, he seemed to think they could just ignore everything despite the ongoing affair, and eat dinner together as a family like nothing is wrong in harvest moon. So at that point I understood her being pissed.

They try force everyone into their version of reality, but it’s exhausting and someone incapable of empathy or change without help (seriously why are all these deeply mentally suffering characters not have a therapy arc - Bojack had several. Many failed. But he had several, because he was messy and had to keep trying.) Viv thinks Stolas is Herb, an innocent victim of homophobia, but he’s actually Joseph Sugarman, dangerously callous and terrifying but soft spoken, mixed with Bojack. Sugarman is a brilliant villain imo.

This is an extremely good point. It's a damn shame it's unintentional, because if it weren't, Stolas would at the very least be in the running for one of the best depictions of NPD ever put to fiction.

NPD isn't Magical Evil Abuser disease -- like you said, it's a legitimate disorder, and it's horribly damaging to the person who has it. People with NPD can both feel and crave love the way Stolas loves Via, but healthy relationships require give and take, and giving doesn't come easily to them. Even when Via's leaving him, the highest praise he can give her is that she's been the only good thing in his life.

It's extremely sad, tragic even. If only Viv understood why.

[ghostst4r]

GIRLFRIEND

reader x art donaldson x patrick zweig

I'm thinking of Patrick & Art being approached by the reader to try to escape some loser who is following them around. Do you pretend that you recognize one of them from somewhere? Or, does one of the boys jump in ready to become your boyfriend? Is it pretend? 🤷🏻‍♀️ - @imblushingrn

warnings: harresment? mentions of threesome

Patrick and Art both lay back on the pastel coloured arm chairs. They are currently sat at Tashis party, waiting to gain her attention as they share a pack of cigarettes - the crumbled box thrown on the concrete causing a few to spill out.

Though I was on the other side of the house, the hidden sister. I have always played tennis alongside Tashi, but because she became better quicker she had all of the parents and friends and relatives attention whereas I was forgotten about. Living in a house, not a home, with a name from strangers.

I wandered mindlessly through the kitchen, glancing around at all the people in the house, wondering who they were as they conversed. Once again the same shiver ran down my spine as a firm hand gripped onto my shoulder, the same distant cousin - who wasn’t really a cousin - who has been pestering me all night.

“May I pour you a drink?” His nasal voice strung out, it sounded like he needed a tissue. Though politely I shake my head.

I feel the hand gripping my shoulder wander down, caressing my waist and hips - though it wasn’t endearing. I struggle to move as he grips me so tight, thinking of any idea.

He moves closer to me and I feel his disgusting smelling breath on my neck, slowly biting at my skin. Not in the sexy, attractive way - more like a rat biting at scraps.

I manage to pull away and dash out of the kitchen arch way, and through the back doors of the house - somehow his harsh footsteps echo in my ears as he follows me outside. I look around desperately, spotting two boys who appear to be my age or a little older. I skip over and try to relax my breathing.

In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

I approach the two of them, using my hands to move the blondes feet out of the way so I can sit at the end of the arm chair. They both give me curious looks, as to why a stranger has disrupted their smoking session.

“A guy won’t leave me alone can you just get him off my back? Please.” I whisper, my eyes glancing up as I see the cousin stroll over casually.

He places both arms on his hips, tutting at me. “Well look where you ran off, come on darling I don’t have all day!” he snapped, the pet name didn’t even sound nice and definitely didn’t give me butterflies.

“Back off man she’s mine.”

“She’s my girlfriend pal, fuck off.”

Both the strangers let out at the same time, glancing at each other worriedly. I bit my lip and scrunch my eyes. Though the cousin doesn’t say a word for a good long passing seconds. “So- So you guys are like…” he stumbles, pointing between the three of us, and I still don’t know their names “A threesome?”

We all stay quiet for at least a minute, or thats what it felt like, all glancing at each other. Yet the dark haired boy spoke “Yeah, exactly what we are now fuck off.”

And that’s all the cousin needed to pry off of me, raising his arms in mock surrender and carrying on with his night. I exhale in relief, turning to the two boys who are both slightly flustered. “Thank you so much you don’t understand! Thank you…” They both smile and nod before releasing.

“Oh! I’m Art and he’s Patrick!” the blonde, Art, says with a smile, sticking his hand out.

I shake it with a laugh, looking at the both of them. “Sorry for getting you… both involved.” I blushed as they shook their heads and waved it off

The brunette smirked lightly, watching me. “What’s your name, I wanna find your facebook later?”

I blushed and relayed my name to him, watching their eyes widen at the last name ‘Duncan’, “Why do you want my facebook?”

“He’s asking for your number, and so am I.” Art replied, taking in a breath of his cigarette.

I laughed in disbelief, glancing at the both of them who continued to casually smoke, letting the light breeze take the smoke anywhere. Two boys… who both want my number?

[ns-media]

Incredibly long analysis on Oda's thoughts on romance, way of portraying romance and LuNami in One Piece

Okay, so I want to make a LOOOOONG post about something interesting that's been on my mind for a while, about romance in One Piece. I was originally going to post it on Twitter but this post is way too long for that platform. I always preferred posting here, but not too many people are here nowadays. Anyway, onto the main topic here. I'll be talking about Oda's portrayal of and thoughts about romance, how he views it, why he puts a good chunk of it in "non-canon" material and so on. This post is to understand Oda's perspective on romance and why he goes about it the way he goes about it. I'm a LuNami fan, so this is also to make a point about how he decides to portray them.

Do not read this if you don’t want to see me express unfavorable opinions (and also factual information) about LuHan and other ships I just don't see working out, as they basically don’t fall in line with how romance works in Oda’s work. I'm not mean-spirited about it though. (Also I'll be bringing up SanPu for a bit too, in a favorable way) I am guaranteed to get at least one eyebrow raise or a "What the fuck are you talking about?" from any person reading this whole thing, but that's fine. I'll only tag LuNami because this is for LuNami fans.

Anyhow, in an interview with Aoyama back in 2022, Oda stated how he doesn’t want to include actual romance into his story and how he’s fine with one-sided stuff. His reason is because he fears he would lose certain fans for doing so. This is an interesting statement.

First, if you read this up here, it essentially confirms how Oda doesn’t see one-sided affection as romance so there’s no reason to think that Sanji or Boa’s affection are hints when they’re both for comedic effect.

The reason they're one-sided in the first place is not because he's teasing you with the idea that the other might return that affection one day, no he treats it as a joke, it's as straightforward as that. I don't understand how people try to act like it's not purely for humor. If he intended on making something like Boa and Luffy’s relationship as something to seriously consider being “romance” then Boa wouldn’t be so humorously delusional even after being rejected twice in back to back chapters, she’d be taken aback at the very least. But doesn’t. Why? It’s a joke.

I mean for heaven’s sake, whenever this gag is used with Nyon around, she’s the voice of reason, y’know, a woman who also experienced the same kind of delusional love once? Again it’s all a joke, the entire point of Boa’s gag is that it’s love that’s supposed unreciprocated.

Also, the second time he rejected her was him rejecting her before she even got to ask anything...

This lets us know that Luffy knows how persistent she in trying to get with him and also implying that Luffy is going to say no, no matter what, as he knows how desperate and persistent she is about it. Now that I think about it, Rayleigh left Luffy to train by himself for 6 months before the timeskip fully ended, Rayleigh's supervision made it to where Boa couldn't get to Luffy, but after he left, was fully capable of doing so. I mean just look at Boa down here:

Yeah she said she won't go and remain strong for Luffy's sake, but with her being the way she is, I wouldn't be surprised if Boa in those 6 months went to the island and was asking Luffy multiple times which was how he was able to reject her before even knowing. If what we saw in Chapter 598 was the first time he rejected her, he wouldn't be so quick to know that she was gonna ask it again when he rejected her the 2nd time on panel. We know that the Kuja girls KNEW that Rayleigh left half a year ago as well, meaning they must've gotten to the island itself if they found this out. Unless Rayleigh told them directly, which, to be fair, is likely, but if he didn't, this implies that Boa has been talking to Luffy on the island in those 6 months, and if so, would definitely have brought up marriage at least once, or a lot, honestly, thus explaining Luffy being able to shut down her marriage request before even knowing what she was going to say, because he already heard it THAT much in those 6 months. Now, I don't truly believe that Oda thought of it like that, but it does make logical sense so I figured "why not bring it up".

Also, in a 2014 interview with Fuji TV about the 3D2Y special, Oda mentioned that not only Buggy but BOA bring in the comedic elements into the arc and how they're comic relief characters, again making it obvious that Boa’s infatuation is a complete joke for the sake of comedy. Same with Sanji. Being a gentleman is part of his character but he tries to score every woman. Why? Jokes.

Even if you somehow use the argument of “Oh but this behavior of his is even stronger towards Nami specifically” I don’t see how any of that can be seen as a “shipping hint” and not a gag that’s exaggerated even further, cause he’s still hitting on every woman. Besides, the first time he actually got his heart broken by a woman was by Pudding, and never Nami, Robin and every other woman despite getting rejected a billion times by them. Why? Because the Nami/Robin affection is for comedy while the story between Sanji and Pudding is supposed to be taken seriously.

It's why Oda went out of his way for Sanji to write a dedicated story between the two, with Sanji getting genuinely sad when Pudding talked shit about him only for everything to turn around by the end where she actually likes him. THAT is a romance story with substance behind it, and Oda clearly wrote it like there is merit to it. There is obviously a story written here with a beginning to an end, Sanji acts no different towards Nami in Wano than in say, Punk Hazard. Beginning of Whole Cake vs end of Whole Cake Sanji is on entirely different terms with Pudding and she is on entirely different terms with him. There is development, a plot, a purpose that impacts the plot. Not just "Haha jokes".

Soooo yeah that’s the first thing I wanted to address regarding that statement.

Second, Oda saying “I don’t want to include romance because I don’t wanna lose fans” may seem like an odd thing for him to say at first given how Oda post-timeskip portrays actual romance in his story, and plenty of times, I might add. This was when Oden/Toki was relatively fresh too so there’s no way he forgot he did so. Because of that, Oda is referring to romance for specific characters rather than for the characters he’s already written romance stories about.

So this basically means that Oda’s fear of losing readers obviously doesn’t stem from the romance stories he has already written, it’s very clear from the interview that he’s hesitant to write romance out of fear of losing some of his readers. But of course as we know, he clearly has written blatant romance already, primarily with non-main characters like Rebecca’s parents, Rouge/Roger, etc. It makes plenty of sense for Oda to not be afraid or hesitant to write romance stories/romantic elements for those non-main characters.

Because well, those stories written are basically all backstories that are over in a few chapters (Senor Pink/Russian) or briefly talked about (like the aforementioned Rouge and Roger.) As such, there’s no long-term impact on the story.

Notice how in the only case of a STRAW HAT having a blatant romance story (Sanji/Pudding), it is a character who's most defining character trait is his lovey dovey/romantic behavior? Oda most likely felt more comfortable giving a romance story to Sanji specifically as that goes with his personality, and likely felt he would not be getting backlash for giving the LOVE cook a romantic story. (Because again keep in mind he clearly stated he's hesitant to include romance due to losing fans of the characters getting romantically involved)

But STILL, even with all of that, the impact of this love story from Sanji's perspective is just erased entirely as Pudding erased his memories, as if Oda is being particularly protective of the Straw Hats getting impacted by any obviously permanent romantic development. (Because as I said SanPu is on entirely different terms from the beginning to the end of WCI, so their romance plot had impact on the story.)

So, because of how romance in One Piece is basically all deceased/minor characters having short backstories or in the case of the one Straw Hat who got a blatant romance story, (I said blatant cause you could say Usopp/Kaya, but it’s not super obviously blatant the way SanPu is) erased from his brain, there’s no obvious long-term impact that romance seems to have in One Piece.

I very much think that this “obvious long-term impact” is what Oda wants to avoid so badly, particularly for the Straw Hats (the main characters of the story). This is because this long-term impact would make it apparent to his readers that romance has a fundamental and established role in the story of One Piece as something important, which goes against his target audience of boys, who, from his point of view, don’t like it.

This idea Oda has stems from how Jump used to be when he was a kid, as clearly stated in the interview with Aoyama. It’s his own experiences with how boys manga are “supposed” to be coupled with his insecurities about being embarrassed to write romance that makes him hesitant to do just that.

This is why I scoff at the idea of “No romance in the crew” being used as an actual argument. People use that argument as if Oda himself is completely against the idea of anybody in the crew getting together, despite the painfully crystal clear reason for “no romance in the crew” being to not alienate readers and lose said readers as he is under the impression that boys won’t like that because of how he thinks that everyone still has this idea that they should be segregated due to how it was when he was a kid himself. It's why he said "People are so supportive of couples!" all surprised in the interview with Aoyama, clearly being surprised about the positive reception it gets that he didn't think it would get. It has nothing to do with him hating the very concept of romance, it's him being under the wrong impression on what his young male readers would find acceptable or not.

There is a reason why almost every single time that he brings up or hints at any, ANY hesitance or opposition towards romance in the crew, he brings up his readers. ALMOST. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. He tries to please his target audience. “It’s a shounen manga” or “the readers” he keeps saying, despite not even being asked about his readers' opinion. "I don't think there will be any romance in that crew" is said clearly because "It's a shounen manga THEY won't be interested" not because "OMG WTF I HATE ROMANCE BETWEEN THEM GTFO!" the way people intentionally misconstrue this to be. He even says "Nami probably sees all the good aspects/qualities of those guys, BUT One Piece isn't a romance" So he LITERALLY says that his reason isn't "She does not like any of her crewmates in a romantic way!" but instead says "Well it's not a story about romance and I think only girls care so I won't show or depict it because I think my primary young male audience wouldn't give a shit". Nothing about himself. Legitimately nothing about his own opinions about supposedly being disgusted with nakama romance. Gotta love the made-up narrative being presented as a fact to the fandom at large.

Oda's "but" could have EASILY been followed up with something like this: "Nami probably sees all the good aspects/qualities of those guys, BUT she doesn't see them in a romantic way and I don't want it to be that way" or something, but instead essentially opted for "Nami probably sees all the good aspects/qualities of those guys, BUT think of my young male audience! They don't care about romance. They'd probably hate it if I decide to capitalize on Nami seeing their good qualities as romantic, right? After all, only girls want it! It must only be them for asking this!" What I am saying isn't even me grasping at straws, it's RIGHT THERE. "I don't think there will be romance in the crew cause boys will not like it". Bam, that's all it is. I know I am repeating myself but it seriously bears repeating because of how so many people see that one answer in particular as the ultimate evidence against Mugiwara romance. Oda seems like he's being evasive on purpose with that answer, talking about how concerned he is about the opinions of boys while not once talking about whether or not he would like to write it or not.

Also for the love of everything can we get someone who has the untranslated version of this answer? Given how Japanese language works I would not be surprised in the slightest if he's even more evasive than in VIZ's translation.

How people come to the conclusion that he’s disgusted by the very idea of a Mugiwara couple being a thing is beyond me when it’s as clear as day that he opens his mouth about “his readers” and “his audience” for a reason.

I mean hell, Strong World was originally going to be a movie about Nami’s past and the reason he changed it was because of how he kept his TARGET AUDIENCE in mind. He kept the young boys he appealed to in mind despite clearly wanting to write something else at first.

Him pleasing his audience doesn’t equal “I really don’t want this to be a thing”. If anything, he restricts his desires purely on the basis that he thinks whatever he wants to write is not what other people want, why the hell wouldn't you think this applies to the idea of "no romance in the crew" when he literally spoonfed us the reason being exactly that in the earlier photo of the Jump Fests '09 interview?

He clearly wants to avoid it because of this idea that his male audience will take issue with it and not because he doesn’t wanna do it himself. This why he said “Seriously!?” all surprised when Aoyama said he wouldn’t leave if he decided to implement romance into his story, and he was saying this to a man who writes romance and has already said “I love romantic comedies” 2 sentences ago. Oda is THAT unsure of himself and he's THAT much under the impression that males have no interest in romance. I rarely if ever see people bring this up.

There's a sense of insecurity Oda has on the topic of romance. When Aoyama said “I guess you have no interest in love comedies” Oda didn’t say yes or even imply that he's right about that being the case. He just said “I’m not confident I could draw those, it's a bit embarrassing” Again, he's insecure about it. Not AGAINST it. He basically spells it out for you. But many people still pretend as if he's saying all of this because he's supposedly disgusted by romance among the crew being a thing, only because that made up narrative supports what THEY want to be the case, instead of looking into the actual reason for as to why he's saying all these things.

As I said before, almost every single time he is hesitant to write romance he mentions his audience, but in the situations he doesn't bring up his audience, he instead mentions how he's embarrassed to do it. I mean when asked in a 2019 interview with Oda, he was embarrassed when asked if he incorporates arguments with his wife into how Nami argues, perhaps showcasing how he's embarrassed to talk about his wife (ya know, the person he loves) in other words, the person he's romantically attached to. This is definitely a stretch so I'm not saying that I seriously think that this is more proof on how he's embarrassed/insecure about romance, but I figured it was worth bringing up. But embarrassment aside, he also cares a lot about his manga keeping face to his boy audience.

This leads me to the next thing… Oda’s involvement with the movies. Notice how, every single time he’s involved with writing the plot there’s always some LuNami stuff he wants to throw in there?

Strong World obviously, as well as parts of Film: Gold. Now, at first things seem… odd. The LuNami hints between the two in those films are quite a bit more on the nose than anything Oda has written in the manga, like a oh-so clear parallel between Tesoro and Luffy. At first it puzzled me why Oda would relegate these stories and moments to movies. And then, if you read the Aoyama interview, things start to make sense why he approaches things this way.

Movies aren’t treated as a main part of the story by people, it’s not the manga. You have to go out of your way to see the movie. There's no need to watch the movie to understand One Piece's main manga story. Look at the contrast between Chapter 0 and Strong World itself. Chapter 0 is manga content and it seems so much more concerned with the action and hype the young boys are there for (obviously cause it takes place decades before the current canon but that was a deliberate choice, it could've easily been like how Glorious Island, being a prequel to Film Z, was contemporary to the story). While there still is a bunch of that hype/action in the movie itself, there are also romantic elements thrown in there. It's kind of like Oda's experimenting, testing the waters with those movies. It makes sense for him to approach it this way. People who so happen to hate the addition of (LuNami) romance are willing to let things slide and overlook it because said romance is in a movie they don't have to watch.

So basically a non-mandatory-to watch movie provides Oda with more leeway, or rather makes him more comfortable to add what he wants, allowing him to put just a little bit of obvious romantic themes revolving LuNami.

Although it’s just a BIT of leeway, as Oda still kept the young boys in mind as he, of course, changed the movie from what it was originally supposed to be from something darker to something more light-hearted.

Here's where we get to the main point of this long wall of text: After three seconds. See, this could have easily, EASILY been animated into the movie, it’s as simple as having a 1 minute scene of everyone hearing the final part of the message, it could have easily been the post-credits scene, heck 1 minute is probably a lot more than what was necessary to show after three seconds animated. So why did it not happen in the movie? Probably because Nami was blushing.

Blushing is the most cliché and obvious way to tell if someone is into someone else (unless it’s physical like kissing). Oda, likely due to him keeping his young male audience in mind, relegated it to something even MORE obscure than a movie you don't necessarily have to watch, instead of through said movie, it’s through… these pin things? I honestly don’t even know what the heck it’s supposed to be. I know that One Piece Color Walk 6 featured it...

...but I don’t know the origin of this or how it was distributed before the color walk. Was it given to people in theaters? Was this purchasable merch? Did it come with the DVD/Blu-Ray as an extra? There's so little information online on where in the world this came from, and that just goes to show how oddly obscure it is, as if Oda did this on purpose just so that as little people would find about it. As if he thinks “Okay my intentions will be too obvious if this gets put in the movie itself, let me try something else”. It makes sense given how he's clearly shy about the whole romance thing as I explained earlier. Of course in the movie proper Sanji still mentions the whole love message thing but without Nami explicitly blushing at Luffy hearing it, naysayers can easily just interpret it as one of Sanji's self-serving delusions as always, as Nami doesn't show explicit emotions (blushing) giving away that it's really a love message.

Yes, everything I am saying about this isn't some guaranteed factual info or whatever, but this makes WAY too much sense. He had no reason to make this featuring Nami blushing but he did anyway, like it’s a way for him to draw what he wanted without being overly concerned with his demographic at large getting to see this, you know. And it worked! For example, a lot of the LuNami naysayers point out how the message wasn't romantic and they all say it without the knowledge of After three seconds. Oda did a good job with keeping this art on the down low because let's be honest, who outside of the shipping community or people analyzing shipping to insane degrees (me right now) even know about after three seconds? Exactly.

And by the way, you can’t even say that Nami is blushing out of embarassment for everyone hearing it. In that artwork where she blushed, she knows damn well at that point that the only person on the ship who didn't hear the last part is Luffy, so she’s clearly blushing because of how LUFFY SPECIFICALLY heard it, she blushes once she’s realized that he heard it, it’s that straightforward. And Oda wrote Nami saying "It's embarrassing!" in reference to the message.

Oda is the same man who is embarrassed to write very on the nose romance. Not saying "Oh dude this totally means Oda is projecting how he feels writing after three seconds/the ending of Strong World onto Nami by making her say it's embarrassing meaning he sees this as romantic because HE is embarrassed about romance!" ....Well okay I totally AM saying that buuut I am not saying that it's actually true. I just wanted to bring it up lol.

Another perfect example of relegating obvious romantic things to obscure content is a certain sketch. And it’s in the heroine novel, obviously aimed at girls instead of boys, and oh would you look at that:

Oda does a complete 180 and features Nami with Luffy’s hat on with a HEART IN HER HAND… seriously, how more obvious can this sketch get? It can't! And it doesn't need to be subtle this time! Oda knows that on average more girls are going to care about romance so why be subtle here? In the past he said specifically that he thinks girl readers keep asking him questions related to romance, as I clearly said before, and this here novel is targeted at girls as opposed to boys. There’s no reason for Luffy’s hat to be on her, especially because, well, he has nothing to do with Nami's novel, it's not like he plays a role in it. Nami post-timeskip is pretty much never seen wearing his hat before this sketch, making it very peculiar for him to draw her like this here on something aimed towards girls, the demographic he keeps mentioning "loves romance and keeps asking me to include it in One Piece". Seriously, the ONE TIME to bring it back in like, a decade, and it’s done like this? It feels ridiculous to call people crazy for thinking it has to mean something given all the context I have provided.

I mean, notice how in the main manga storyline, Nami hasn’t had his since SKYPIEA??? Hell, even then, she has only had it on her head once in the main manga in Arlong Park, yet Oda made Nami wear the hat in color spreads, which are treated as not important at all by a lot of readers. Color spreads by casual or young readers are usually looked at like “Huh cool artwork I guess, not going to extensively think about it though”, again giving Oda a liiitttle bit more leeway than his main manga story. Why else do you think that Luffy and Nami are CONSISTENTLY portrayed as King and Queen in color spreads and not the main manga storyline? Because from Oda's perspective it gives naysayers or the boys who in his mind supposedly hate romance leeway to say "Oh it's just a color spread! Just fun little aesthetic stuff!", in other words, nothing to take seriously. If he wrote it into his main manga story he would have to explain why Luffy and Nami would dress up as King and Queen too, again making things a loooot more explicit depending on the way he goes about it, and he's already insecure about it, so.... I'm just saying.

Also come on, there has to be a reason why Oda has portrayed Nami with Luffy’s hat plenty of times after Skypiea yet none of those times were in the story proper, just like the movies he's involved in being heavily focused on Nami herself or LuNami. He himself wrote Tesoro and Stella's romance, he himself said that ROMANCE WAS A GOOD IDEA FOR FILM: GOLD yet is much more adamant about romance being included in his manga storyline and it was HIS idea to parallel the romance for Tesoro/Stella that he wrote with Luffy/Nami. Almost as if he is less concerned with a certain audience for the movies and side material than he his for his manga... Nah, that's ridiculous!

Isn’t it just weird how a lot of the side content Oda makes/is involved in is more on the nose with shipping hints? To me it seems like his thought process is “Okay! I can finally do something I want to! I want to make a movie about Luffy saving Nami with a few romantic undertones thrown in there… I could’ve easily made an arc like this in the manga but, can’t let my main audience be disappointed, can I?” Arlong Park and Skypiea are the only times in the manga in which Nami gets to be saved by Luffy. (Funnily enough they’re both are the only times in the main story where Luffy gives Nami his hat.) Both arcs were so long ago. It just seems to me like he wrote Strong World and the romance aspect of Film: Gold to scratch his “Nami gets saved by Luffy” itch. Even with the Zou hug being a thing, it is not something that Oda puts emphasis on at all, it’s pretty zoomed out in the manga, as if he is avoiding any overly direct intimacy that the readers he’s catering to would catch on to. It’s all too suspicious to me.

All this isn't to say that Oda doesn't do any LuNami stuff in the main manga storyline, it just that he's not mega obvious with it at all and doesn't plan to include said mega obvious hints as long as his concern with his boy audience remains there. So it doesn't invalidate any LuNami hints that people think happened in the manga like Nami blushing over the CPR Reiju gave (naysayers could easily say she was just shocked unlike Strong World where it's blatantly her blushing over Luffy hearing what Sanji called a "love message") or things that are more subtle like Nami's "I don't want to marry yet" in Thriller Bark, I'm just saying that cliché hints of romance is what he would like to avoid, something cliché enough that his shounen audience would figure out.

As a side note, Oda's "People seem so supportive of couples!" is also interesting as before his Aoyama interview he always knew/thought that girls are always the ones ask him for romance and as such of course he would know the female demographic would care more about it, so this surprise about people seeming supportive of couples may or may not be him realizing that it's not just girls who are interested, but perhaps boys too. Of course we all know that Oda drew Luffy and Nami together for Aoyama, the author he just talked about romance with. Now again not saying "Oh man this HAS to be a LuNami hint!" because they talked about much more than just romance, but still, something to consider!

Oda's "Ah, seriously!?" is still funny to me when Aoyama said he won't leave if One Piece were to include romance, despite Aoyama writing romance in Detective Conan, interesting reaction from Oda given how Aoyama literally said "I like love comedies" just earlier. As if to convince himself that Aoyama is writing the romance in his story to pander to his female audience instead of doing it because he likes doing it. Anyway I think I am digressing.

I think my theory may hold some water, but hey if you disagree, that’s totally fine. I’m not the best at articulating myself so the way I talked about some things here may just be seen as completely wrong, but hey, that’s okay! If you have something to add, you can do so. I know there will be people disagreeing with me, including even some LuNami fans, but again, I don't mind at all.

My verdict is this: Oda likes the idea of LuNami but due to his concern with his target audience, he won’t make any obvious advances that young boys would pick up on and as a result, tries to sneak in more obvious hints into supplementary/more obscure content like Movies, After three seconds, a sketch, etc. because people take those less seriously/not at face value like stuff that happens inside the manga's story, so only puts more subtle or non-cliché hints in his manga and the less subtle ones in secondary material. (I mean seriously dude, wearing Luffy's hat with a heart in your hand? A romance parallel in a movie? Blushing at the "love message" being heard? Come on, that so much more on the nose than anything in the entire manga)

I guess you can say there are layers to how far Oda is willing to go to show LuNami more explicitly lol. The more of a low profile he think he has from his boy readers, the more explicit it'll be. That is seriously a trend I have been noticing from him.

Honestly, with all this being said and done, I think the only way he will feel totally at ease with including explicit LuNami romance is if he is convinced that his boy audience doesn't mind romance at all and wouldn't leave in salt, bitterness and passive aggression.

I think One Piece will continue to be written like this without on the nose romance. The best we can hope for is a sudden LuNami ending once the story is over, because 1. By then he stops writing One Piece and doesn't need to be walking on eggshells to please his audience and 2. Romance not being written doesn't necessarily mean characters won't end up together as BF/GF, husband/wife. Portraying romance is simply showing us the way that lead to the BF/GF husband/wife relationship in the first place.

Keep in mind that the whole interpretation I have about Oda's portrayal romance and LuNami could be entirely wrong!

To talk about the "Boys don't like romance" thing, I'm a man, and look, I wrote all of this stupid shit. To me it's funny that he still is under the wrong impression that all, or at least most, boys don't like romance. I am not a shipper of everything in fiction myself, LuNami is one of the few ships I even care about. If your audience grows attached enough to a series they would get attached to the characters too, this attachment can lead to a desire of wanting to see these characters be more, that is how I started to love LuNami. I think a decent amount of male One Piece fans feel the same way, for guys like me liking a ship usually takes a slow burn, whereas, usually from what I observe, women ship things much quicker than guys. I also feel less willing at expressing my love for a ship, a big part of it being that guys just "support" a ship instead of going balls to the wall insane for a ship with a million essays about how great the ship is, on top of that they almost always support the ships I think are lame where it's stupid one-sided love for 95% of the story (For example, Western men support LuHan so much more than LuNami on average it's not even funny) For a long time I was sitting in the back, keeping my interest in LuNami to myself. And what better way to "come out the shipping closet" I guess you can say, than to make... whatever the hell I wrote here? I don't know man at this point I'm so drained I'm starting to doubt that anything I even said here made any sense, I just flung all the things stored in brain at this post so it may be all over the place but whatever!

Hope you loved reading this regardless! See ya!

[chalk-homunculus]

I think... in many ways, I really just want to feel loved, but I'm scared of accepting it, and scared of feelings I feel like I "can't control" so I end up taking an overly analytical approach and overjustifying things like natural curiosity to myself by calling things "just scientific fascination" and "morbid curiosity" (because in my mind, things I feel I am not "allowed to" experience, be curious about, or consider, seem like they're taboo, hence 'morbid'). I can't really fault others for thinking that's messed up. I've definitely ruined chances at receiving any sort of care and/or love in the past by not only pushing people away in delusional self-sabotage states, but also by treating people like equations or research projects. I sort of hate admitting to myself that I DON'T know or understand everything, and that doing so is impossible no matter how much I like knowing things, especially since my inability to just trust and take what people tell me at face value is in juxtaposition with that desire for knowledge and thorough understanding. It is actually me and my own doubt of people that drives me into over-questioning everything I DO know.

I also am terrible at paying attention to others. I know this. I forget that other people are, well, people, and that they won't know how much I care about them unless I express it and KEEP expressing it. Not just verbally but with things like asking people how they are doing- assuming they'll just tell me if they want me to know is something I do, but I know very well how easy it is to feel like a burden and close your troubles away from others in fear of being "too much" to deal with. I've reflected on this, and my unhealthy manner of expressing fondness and trust for others being that I'm far too quick to traumadump and talk about myself, in the past, but I've not been making nearly enough progress on it.

I think, I seek and crave for too much clarity without offering any myself, that has driven people away from me in the past, and it's purely my own flaws causing it.

Maybe with another year or two of reflecting, I will be able to handle something like a qppr without it falling apart because of my aloofness and inability to pay enough attention to others. Perhaps in half a decade, I could consider a romantic relationship, if I've made any progress with all that + trauma work, by then.

[jewishvitya]

A pro-Palestine Jew on tiktok asked those of us who were raised pro-Israel, what got us to change our minds on Palestine. I made a video to answer (with my voice, not my face), and a few people watched it and found some value in it. I'm putting this here too. I communicate through text better than voice.

So I feel repetitive for saying this at this point, but I grew up in the West Bank settlements. I wrote this post to give an example of the extent to which Palestinians are dehumanized there.

Where I live now, I meet Palestinians in day to day life. Israeli Arab citizens living their lives. In the West Bank, it was nothing like that. Over there, I only saw them through the electric fence, and the hostility between us and Palestinians was tangible.

When you're a child being brought into the situation, you don't experience the context, you don't experience the history, you don't know why they're hostile to you. You just feel "these people hate me, they don't want me to exist." And that bubble was my reality. So when I was taught in school that everything we did was in self defense, that our military is special and uniquely ethical because it's the only defensive military in the world - that made sense to me. It slotted neatly into the reality I knew.

One of the first things to burst the bubble for me was when I spoke to an old Israeli man and he was talking about his trauma from battle. I don't remember what he said, but it hit me wrong. It conflicted with the history as I understood it. So I was a bit desperate to make it make sense again, and I said, "But everything we did was in self defense, right?"

He kinda looked at me, couldn't understand at all why I was upset, and he went, "We destroyed whole villages. Of course we did. It was war, that's what you do."

And that casual "of course" stuck with me. I had to look into it more.

I couldn't look at more accurate history, and not at accounts by Palestinians, I was too primed against these sources to trust them. The community I grew up in had an anti-intellectual element to it where scholars weren't trusted about things like this.

So what really solidified this for me, was seeing Palestinian culture.

Because part of the story that Israel tells us to justify everything, is that Palestinians are not a distinct group of people, they're just Arabs. They belong to the nations around us. They insist on being here because they want to deny us a homeland. The Palestinian identity exists to hurt us. This, because the idea of displacing them and taking over their lands doesn't sound like stealing, if this was never theirs and they're only pretending because they want to deprive us.

But then foods, dances, clothing, embroidery, the Palestinian dialect. These things are history. They don't pop into existence just because you hate Jews and they're trying to move here. How gorgeous is the Palestinian thobe? How stunning is tatreez in general? And when I saw specific patterns belonging to different regions of Palestine?

All of these painted for me a rich shared life of a group of people, and countered the narrative that the Palestininian identity was fabricated to hurt us. It taught me that, whatever we call them, whatever they call themselves, they have a history in this land, they have a right to it, they have a connection to it that we can't override with our own.

I started having conversations with leftist friends. Confronting the fact that the borders of the occupied territories are arbitrary and every Israeli city was taken from them. In one of those conversations, I was encouraged to rethink how I imagine peace.

This also goes back to schooling. Because they drilled into us, we're the ones who want peace, they're the ones who keep fighting, they're just so dedicated to death and killing and they won't leave us alone.

In high school, we had a stadium event with a speaker who was telling us about a person who defected from Hamas, converted to Christianity and became a Shin Bet agent. Pretty sure you can read this in the book "Son of Hamas." A lot of my friends read the book, I didn't read it, I only know what I was told in that lecture. I guess they couldn't risk us missing out on the indoctrination if we chose not to read it.

One of the things they told us was how he thought, we've been fighting with them for so long, Israelis must have a culture around the glorification of violence. And he looked for that in music. He looked for songs about war. And for a while he just couldn't find any, but when he did, he translated it more fully, and he found out the song was about an end to wars. And this, according to the story as I was told it, was one of the things that convinced him. If you know know the current trending Israeli "war anthem," you know this flimsy reasoning doesn't work.

Back then, my friend encouraged me to think more critically about how we as Israelis envision peace, as the absence of resistance. And how self-centered it is. They can be suffering under our occupation, but as long as it doesn't reach us, that's called peace. So of course we want it and they don't.

Unless we're willing to work to change the situation entirely, our calls for peace are just "please stop fighting back against the harm we cause you."

In this video, Shlomo Yitzchak shares how he changed his mind. His story is much more interesting than mine, and he's much more eloquent telling it. He mentions how he was taught to fear Palestinians. An automatic thought, "If I go with you, you'll kill me." I was taught this too. I was taught that, if I'm in a taxi, I should be looking at the driver's name. And if that name is Arab, I should watch the road and the route he's taking, to be prepared in case he wants to take me somewhere to kill me. Just a random person trying to work. For years it stayed a habit, I'd automatically look at the driver's name. Even after knowing that I want to align myself with liberation, justice, and equality. It was a process of unlearning.

On October, not long after the current escalation of violence, I had to take a taxi again. A Jewish driver stopped and told me he'll take me, "so an Arab doesn't get you." Israeli Jews are so comfortable saying things like this to each other. My neighbors discussed a Palestinian employee, with one saying "We should tell him not to come anymore, that we want to hire a Jew." The second answered, "No, he'll say it's discrimination," like it would be so ridiculous of him. And the first just shrugged, "So we don't have to tell him why." They didn't go through with it, but they were so casual about this conversation.

In the Torah, we're told to treat those who are foreign to us well, because we know what it's like to be the foreigner. Fighting back against oppression is the natural human thing to do. We know it because we lived it. And as soon as I looked at things from this angle, it wasn't really a choice of what to support.

[909414208]

unmedicated adhd i want to get off this ride

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Mr Gaiman. I have read all of your books.

This is not an ask, rather an answer.

I would like to say thank you for saving me. Knowing I will never meet you will not change the way I feel about you or myself.

Love your fiction work. I feel bad for the fact that it’s not fiction to me. It is my life story.

Very sad one. That I am still trying to make sense of today.

I was raised by the other mother. Not really, but I was raised by a bipolar narcissist who hated me and loved me but didn’t know how to do either. She sexually abused me for 12 years.

No one ever believed me. No one.

So I would pretend that I was Coraline and that I was brave. I was. But that was because I knew that the spell had to break at some point.

I am 24 now. She is old and frail but the hell she has made in my mind - I almost never escaped. Until I understood that I truly was stronger.

Because she tried to make me just like her, but I refused. I picked kindness.

If you can’t find a friend, be one. If you can’t find someone you look up to- become someone who others can look up to.

I did. I tried my best. I promise.

I want to tell you the ultimate secret that no one ever could. You probably figured it out a long time ago, but it still makes me feel better to write it here, even if I know that you might never reply or ask me if I am safe, or dismiss me like a crazed fan/abused child who desperately needs help and attention.

I don’t. I would like to be your friend. But I know it is not possible.

So I want you to know I know why they do it.

They do it for the same reason as you wrote books. To not feel alone.

But that is the problem with existing in this world. Evil is nothing but not understanding yourself and hating different people from you.

Ignorance brings hate. How do you justify yourself in a world like this?

Simple.

You change the world by breading more people who believe hate is love, and love is hate. Evil needs justification. Kindness needs non.

I sat alone for 24 years and told no one. The paragraph above was just the start and the ending.

My story is still unfolding. But I wanted to let you know you are no longer sitting alone at your birthday party.

Because the only present I ever got was knowing someone else like me existed.

Someone who could look evil in the eye and stare back.

And never stop talking about it.

Thank you Mr. Gaiman, for writing “View from the Cheap Seats”

When I read it I put it down as well as the razor that I wanted to end my life with.

Because you were my only friend. And you still are.

And I cannot take the injustice anymore. If they won’t read, I will read to them.

I will save them just like you saved me. Making reading cool and easy.

And I will do it for you and me. So that no one else can see the horrors anywhere but in books and movies.

And I will do it one act of kindness and love at a time.

So they will know that injustice is just a state of mind.

Thank you Mr.Gaiman. You gave me hope.

And now I will do the unthinkable. I will try until my dying breath to change their mind.

One step forward into a future where you are not sad and a story like mine is just a horror movie and not a reality.

Because you are my only friend, and I hate to see my friends sad.

Leto

I'm so proud of you, and this made me tear up.

[irndad]

Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-

Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹

Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.

my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k

“Is Maeve okay?”

It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 

She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 

Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 

She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?

It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 

He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?

“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”

She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 

“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”

She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 

“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”

It’s only then she frowns. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”

“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 

“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”

“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 

“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”

“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“

“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”

“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”

A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 

She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 

Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 

Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 

And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 

“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”

Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 

Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 

“You’re important to me.” 

She has no idea how much. 

Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 

“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.

Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 

The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 

He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 

[psychronia]

I've been rewatching Avatar: The Last Airbender because why not and I'm losing my mind at Zuko's proper introduction. I don't know if it's hindsight, shifting characterizations, or just me not watching this in a long time, but this was amazing.

We start off showing he's an impatient and very angry kid. Reasonable, and the sort of flaw we might expect to see in a villain. Kinda funny that he expects to go up against an adult and fully 4-Element realized Avatar, but the kid is desperate and Iroh clearly expects his nephew to get the banishment-denial kicked out of him.

What's important here, though, is Zuko's introduction to the Southern Water Tribe.

Here, we have a very intimidating entrance where his entire ship just sails through the ice right up to the village's front door. It's quite ominous and this is our first proper introduction to how the Fire Nation interacts with a foreign people.

Sokka charges, I'm assuming fully prepared to die, and Zuko casually knocks him out of the way. Okay, so clearly the Water Tribe are entirely outgunned.

He asks "Where are you hiding him?" and the people of the Water Tribe go silent. I assume they're either just too scared to talk or actually protecting Aang.

Whatever the case, it's important to note that the Southern Water Tribe know the terror the Fire Nation can inflict. We have a whole episode dedicated to tracking down a division of raiders. Sokka was able to not only identify the ash-mixed snow as signs of an incoming attack, but estimate how many ships the amount of ash measures to. These are a people who have experience being terrorized and are probably expecting something terrible to happen.

And then, after they don't answer, Zuko grabs Gran-Gran. There was a horror sting to it, and everything the tribe knows about the Fire Nation suggests that Zuko is about to threaten or straight up hurt her to get answers. Classic "terrorize the elderly" bad guy stuff.

And then...

He goes "He's (the Avatar) be about this age and is a master of all four elements!?" and lets her go.

And all of a sudden, the tension that was built up is shattered as Zuko went "I know, I'll give them a reference for the person I'm looking for because clearly they're confused and I wasn't specific enough."

This went from a show of villainy to a show of Zuko being totally socially awkward and misreading the situation entirely. Not helping is that when he does try to menace them a moment later, his fire is slow and angled quite safely.

It still worked on the Water Tribe because they're understandably scared, but all I could think of is that this was the equivalent of a playground bully trying to make someone flinch with that fake-out lunge thing.

Because the fact-and something we'll come to learn-is that Zuko is TERRIBLE at being a Fire Nation oppressor. He's capable of doing morally dubious things and is a competent fighter. But he's lousy at terrorizing people and cruelty-that's kind of the point of his banishment.

And while we can see the story paint this picture of Zuko's true character as the story goes on with hints of good and conflicting loyalties, here we get to see just how bad he is at being "the bad guys".

[weird-and-unwell]

“Autism isn’t a disability”, “it’s just a difference”.

I am of lower support needs. I hold down a (part time) job. I have travelled around my home country. I live alone.

At work they complain about my speech. I’m too quiet, they say, “barely audible” is the words used at my autism assessment. My voice is all monotone, and it needs to be more expressive. I get this complaint every week for a year straight, until my manager gives up. I don’t attend trainings because I forget and find it overwhelming anyways. My coworkers form friendships, and I watch them talk, wondering how they make it look so easy. I get a new manager, I tell her I find the work socials too overwhelming to attend. She tells me I can just say I don’t want to come. I don’t know how to tell her that I desperately want to, to be like the rest of my coworkers, instead of constantly being the one sat on the sidelines.

I come home, and I can hear my neighbours again. The niggling background noise messes with my head, and I meltdown; I throw myself on the floor, I hit my head on the ground repeatedly as I scream and cry, tear out my hair and scratch my arms and face. When I complain, people tell me that I just have to accept that neighbours make noise, that I should just ignore it, or block it out. I am the problem, the one overreacting. I put in earplugs and it hurts and I'm crying again. I wear headphones but I can't handle the noise for that long.

I have reminders set for everything. Every chore, no matter how big or small. My phone beeps at me, reminding me that I need to wash the dishes. If I don't go now, then tick the little box on my phone to say I did it, it won't get done. My home is almost always a mess despite this. It's not just chores either. I won't think to wash, dress myself, brush my teeth or hair, without those reminders. And unless someone actively prompts me to do so, I will do those tasks "wrong". I haven't changed my underwear in a month, and I'm currently aware that's a problem, but within the hour I'm going to forget all over again until I'm next prompted.

I can't sleep without medication - it's not unusual for autistic people to have messed up circadian rhythms. Without my medication it's hard to even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep. When I was younger and at school I slept through so many lessons, and when I have my mandatory breaks from my sleep meds I sleep through every alarm I set. I want to work full time some day, and I'm terrified of what my sleep issue will mean for me then.

I don't travel independently. I don't travel anywhere alone, always with someone or to someone. If to someone, I have assistance the whole way. I find it embarrassing sometimes. Yes, I have a job that requires a certain level of intelligence. No, I cannot get on a train by myself. If I am not shown To The Train, To My Seat, I will be unable to travel.

Last time I travelled, I was left alone at the station for ten minutes. I stayed rigid and sobbed the whole time. I was overwhelmed. It was too loud, I didn't know where I was or where I was meant to be going, and until the assistance person came back I couldn't do anything because for some reason I cannot understand it.

I spend a lot of time trying to explain to people that despite my relative competence, I am unable to do many things. Why can I understand high level maths but not how to get on a damn train? No fucking idea.

"Autism isn't a disability" most severely affects those with higher support needs, and this is absolutely not to take away from them. But for fucks sake, autism is disabling.

Maybe you personally are extremely lucky and just find you're a little "socially awkward", or just find some textures painful or nauseating. Maybe you would be fine with just a couple of adjustments.

But for a lot of us, even lower support needs autistics, it doesn't work like that. I will never sleep properly without medication. I still have the self-harming type of meltdowns as an adult, over things that are deemed as being "just part of life". I live alone but have daily visits from family - if I'm left fully alone I forget all the little daily things one is "meant" to do. I had speech therapy as a child to get me to the "barely audible" "mostly correct" speech. I don't mask, I'm not really sure how I would to begin with.

I'm not unhappy with being autistic. It's just who I am. Life would be easier if I were neurotypical, but I also wouldn't be me. I just wish those luckier than me could...stop saying it's all chill and not at all a disability.

Because yes, socially, I am "awkward". I obviously don't make eye contact - I stare down and to the side of whoever I speak to. People think it's weird or creepy or a sign of disinterest. My autism assessor wrote down about how I often use words and phrases that don't make sense to others, even though they make perfect sense to me. In my daily life this means I'm frequently misunderstood, and have to try explain what I mean, when what I mean is exactly what I said, and the true issue is that what I mean just doesn't make sense to others. I gesture, at times, but again, my gestures apparently don't make sense in relation to what I'm saying. I take things literally, I have almost no filter, and I can't explain how I go from topic to topic.

And yes, I do have sensory problems. Sometimes people, including others with sensory problems, tell me that "sometimes sensory issues have to be tolerated", and I wonder what they think of as being sensory issues. I'm sure they do struggle, but if I say I can't handle a touch, I mean you will need to forcefully hold it against me for me to touch it more than a second and it will make me meltdown. If I say "I can't eat that", I mean that I am unable to swallow it, that I will gag and choke and inevitably spit it back out, as much as I try. If I say I can't handle a noise, I mean I'm so close to a meltdown and my meltdowns are a problem for everyone around me.

But yes. Autism. Not a disability. Just a fun quirky difference.

[houseofceline]

My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Steal My Girl

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: None (yet ;))

Summary: Theo's friends get to meet you for the first time.

< 2

__________________

Perfect. 

You clapped your hands in satisfaction after taking a little study break to organize all your fabrics by color. The plan was originally to go to the dining hall to grab a quick snack, but your messy little studio set up in your dorm easily distracted you on the way out and made you change your plans. 

Your fingers flipped through the pages of your design sketchbook. A small smile formed on your face as you traced your sketches. 

Fashion. 

The only thing that you felt competent in. You didn’t have to try to make things look good. It was the only thing that came natural to you. You could plan an entire outfit for any occasion faster than you could even list the ingredients in a simple potion. You weren’t going to become a doctor like both of your parents, but you thought it’d be better to do something you’re good at rather than forcing yourself to study materials that you’ll never be able to understand. No matter how many times they tried to persuade, or threaten, you to change career paths, you never strayed far from your dreams. The dreams that kept you happy when you were scolded for wanting to stay home and draw instead of going with your father to work.

At least you will never have the chance to mess up a surgery. That would be worse than the invention of jeggings. 

The door swung open and your roommate walked in. You furrow your eyebrows upon her presence, wondering why she would be back so early from her date with Cedric. 

“How’d your date go?” You closed your design book and walked towards your bed before flopping onto it. 

So comfy. 

Cho sighed before rolling her eyes, “stupid last minute quidditch practice.” 

You giggled as your stomach growled. Maybe you should’ve gotten a snack before you decided to clean. 

“Dining hall?” Cho offered her arm out. 

You jumped up from your bed and happily skipped over to her and took her arm. 

“I’m famished,” You exclaimed in desperate need of having anything in your stomach after the oatmeal bowl for breakfast. 

“Me too, Cedric had promised me pastries from a bakery in Hogsmeade before I got canceled on,” Cho grumbled as the two of you walked in a pair towards the hall. 

Pastries. Croissants. Ugh you missed home. France has the best pastries. Now you were craving a chocolate croissant. Not that croissants are the only pastry in France. 

“Next ti- ow,” you rubbed your head after the harsh impact, stumbling a bit. 

“Watch where you’re going next time mate,” another boy came up and landed a harsh slap on his back. 

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” The boy in front of you questioned frantically while trying to hide the fact that he was searching your head for any bruises. Theo might kill him if he made a bruise on his “pretty girl”. 

“I‘m okay,” you waved your hands in front of your face, kind of nervous that people were starting to look.

“Hello y/n,” The other boy came up and offered his hand out. 

You were confused on how he knew your name despite the fact that you didn’t know his, but still shook his hand. 

The boy chuckled at your confused looking expression. He could understand why Theo had called you pretty instead of his usual “she’s hot”s that the group would receive when talking about girls. 

“I’m Mattheo, Riddle,” he winked, “Nott’s friend. And this is Lorenzo.” 

You made an ‘ohh’ face in recognition but you remained surprised at the fact that you were even linked to him. 

Cho nudged your side. You looked over to her and was met with a raised eyebrow. You were as equally as confused as her. You and Theodore had only interacted once and it was during that one potions class, the day Cho had to skip due to sickness. You had no idea why his friends knew about you or were even talking to you.

But nonetheless you offered a warm smile towards the two boys, “nice to meet you.”  

“Nice to finally meet you too,” Lorenzo returned the gesture. You liked him, he seemed nice. 

Cho cleared her throat while clutching her stomach. You had forgotten what the two of you had even come to the hall for. 

“Well, enjoy your meal!” You waved them goodbye as Cho dragged you to the Ravenclaw filled tables and out of their sights. 

“Who are you losers bothering,” Theo scowled and smacked the two boys on the back. 

“We were just getting acquainted with our best mate’s girlfriend,” Mattheo teased as Theo raised his arm pretending to hit him, making Mattheo duck. 

“Girlfriend? Please, you and I both know I don’t do none of that,” Theo rolled his eyes and the trio walked over to their table. 

“Lucky her, you’re not exactly boyfriend material yourself,” Enzo replied as they took their seats grabbing their lunches before quidditch practice. The first game between Slytherin and Gryffindor was coming up, they needed all the fuel they could get before Malfoy made them run what felt like 100 laps during practice. 

“What are you talking about? I'm the epitome of it,” Theo replied confidently as he took a bite of his sandwich. Sandwich was a bit dry, Italians do it better.

“Right, someone bring Hannah over for questioning,” Mattheo laughed as Theo glared at him.

“We never dated, I don’t owe her anything.” 

____________________

“IT’S SO COLD!” You let out a high pitched scream as a huge gust of wind blew right into your face. You had a sweater that you knitted yourself on, paired with a skirt and black tights along with a designer scarf you had searched the whole country for. It was late October, but you hadn’t expected the weather to drop this low. Maybe you should’ve worn your winter coat or opted for a bigger scarf. Or maybe you shouldn’t have come at all. That was the original plan until Cho had managed to convince you to attend. You didn’t really understand quidditch. The whole game seemed complicated to you, plus the whole flying really high and the possibilities of students getting hurt didn’t sit well with your stomach. But you came regardless and it seemed to make Cho very happy. 

“I KNOW BUT WE HAVE SUCH GOOD SEATS!” Cho screamed over the loud clapping and cheering that signaled that the game was about to start. Loud screaming, another thing you weren’t a huge fan of. 

“HERE!” Cho screamed as she took her earmuffs off and placed them on your head. 

“YOU MIGHT NEED THEM MORE THAN I DO!” She yelled before turning her attention back to the game. 

One by one players in either red or green began to fly out. Everyone you were cheering as if it was a competition to see which side would be the loudest. 

“GO HARRY! YEAH!” You heard Cedric shout from the other side of Cho. 

You didn’t know any Gryffindors that well but since you were in a crowd of people all supporting that team, you didn’t want to stand out so you decided to clap along. 

You recognized a few Slytherin players, the faces of the two boys who you had bumped into a few days earlier were spotted flying on broomsticks. You secretly clapped for them as well. 

The mixture of red and green made your heart happy. Christmas. Your favorite holiday. Only two months to go! You couldn’t wait until you get to start putting together presents and drink peppermint mochas with your friends. It was all so exciting! 

Focus on the game! 

You scolded yourself. You look up and frown as you see players begin to grow aggressive. You frowned as a Gryffindor player tried to throw one of those flying balls at Lorenzo. 

You knew it was part of the game but the fact that someone had almost harmed the nice boy made you want to reach for your wand. 

“Yay go Enzo!” You cheered and clapped as you watched him dodge them with ease. A few Gryffindors side eyed you and gave you nasty stares but it was hard to pay them any mind with the distracting colors of ketchup and mustard wrapped around their necks. 

Theo wanted to thank Berkshire, he really did. He wanted to thank him for providing him the strength to throw bludgers at Gryffindors. What was he doing stealing your attention like that? Last time he checked Berkshire was busy trying to ask out a Slytherin a year younger than them. He needs to leave you alone, you were his friend first. Maybe he should throw a bludger and knock Berkshire off his broom. 

Would that be a Slytherin or Gryffindor point?

[maraudersmyloves]

i’m a slut for the “he says something bad about someone else but you think it’s about you” trope.

soooo, do you think you could write something like that with james. and like he doesn’t know why you seem to be mad at him and why you’re kinda pulling away.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Pairing: James potter x reader

Warnings: cursing, some angst

Word count: 745

Disclaimer 1: Everything on this Blog is fiction!!!

Disclaimer 2: A part two is planned and currently being written but I wanted to get this out quickly so I hope you understand that I broke it up into two parts

Sypnosis: You overhear the marauders talking and assume it's about you, causing you to distance yourself from a perplexed James.

"Distance". :☆｡ﾟ. ────

part two

you jump down the stairs to the common room, following the familiar voice of your boyfriend. He's laughing with the other marauders and you are about to join them on the couches when Sirius groans in annoyance, "She's just always clinging to you, mate. It's annoying."

You freeze as you watch James' face screw up in embarrassment. He sighs and lets his head fall back while covering his eyes, "I know but I feel bad. She doesn't really have anyone else."

Your mind races trying to find excuses. Maybe he's talking about someone else. But, who? You don't know all of his Friends it could be anyone. But the description fits, doesn't it? Clingy? Desperate? He's always hugging and kissing you, no way he doesn't want you to do the same. He just feels bad.

You feel hot tears hit your cheek and quickly turn around to run back to your dorm. Before you can drone them out completely, you hear Peter pipe up. "I know, but she's started to hang out with me too. It's getting a lot and I tried to be nice but she talks so much."

Oh.

Even Peter hates you.

You didn't think Sirius liked you anyway and of course James hurt but Peter? He was so nice and accepting of your quiet nature, gardening, and playing chess with you. You misinterpreted it all wrong, once again.

All around you, students are talking and playing stupid games. Now, that it's gotten warmer every fucking student felt the need to hang out outside. But can you really judge when you're doing the same?

Yes!! Because you're not screaming and jumping around with your oh-so-great friend group. You're just sitting under a tree trying to read. The sun is glaring on the page, the wind is blowing your hair in your face and 49 different people are talking way too loud around you.

It's fucking annoying and now James is approaching too. Fucking traitor. He lets himself fall down next to you, spreading out his Limbs to take up as much space as he possibly can. He stays that way for a few seconds before he shifts to lie next to you. "hey, love." You ignore him and the way your skin tingles when he shifts closer to gain some skin contact.

He pouts when you don't answer, expecting you to be focused on the book. In reality, you haven't been able to focus and read a single word for at least ten minutes. He pokes your cheek in a way you'd usually find cute, but now it only makes your mind clouded with questions. Why is he doing this?

He sighs when you still don't give him the attention he craves, "Watcha reading," he asks stretching out the last word in a sweet song-like tone. "A book," you answer flatly before abruptly standing up.

He looks up at you with something you could only describe as puppy eyes and asks where you're going as if you hurt him deeply. "My dorm," you answer. It's short without any explanations or elaborations.

You turn around to leave, not seeing James' hurt look. He quickly jumps up again to follow you, grabbing you by the arm. "Where are you going," he questions with his eyebrows creased in worry and lips tight together.

You gently pull away your arm, not wanting to seem too angry with him. It's not his fault you're so annoying. "I just want to be alone right now," you say quietly. You can't bear to meet his dark and desperate eyes, he looks too sad. You know better that to believe it.

James takes a step back, wanting to respect your boundaries even if the lost proximity makes him want to tear off his skin. "Oh, okay."

"Sorry."

James flops down onto his bed with a groan. He bangs his head against the pillow a few times, too. For good measure. What did he do? Did he make you uncomfortable? Merlin, he hopes he didn't.

Maybe you stopped loving him and felt too bad to tell him. No, no, no. He can't think about that for long or he'll start crying. What did he do to lose you? Then again, he never deserved you in the first place. Not your kind eyes or lovely smile. You represented love, so why would you need his when you've got plenty oozing out of you at all times.

You're perfect and he lost you.

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Nothing big in this one. Memory loss?? Overprotectiveness?? Azriel losing it (but not that much just yet)??

a/n: Hi this is going to be a series :) thank you for reading <3

Part 2 ♡

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

As you blinked through the haziness, a dull throb echoed along the base of your skull. You sat up abruptly, feeling rocks and twigs digging into the backs of your legs, and winced as several shouts attacked your senses. You recognized none of them.

Gods, your head hurt. 

A few more blinks and the sun made an appearance, light assaulting your too-sensitive eyes. The leaves beneath your hands crunched and blew away in the balmy breeze, a few flecks of green still stuck to your palm as you brought it up to rub your head. 

“Don’t,” a feminine voice warned, and it was then that you pinpointed one of the shouts from earlier. But it was warmer now, calm. “Don’t touch your head, y/n. Azriel and Cas are getting help.”

You scrunched your face up but obeyed the command, taking steady breaths to try and manage the pain. The woman in front of you—blonde hair, brown eyes, a fierce expression—was like no one you had ever seen before. She was so incredibly beautiful you weren’t sure if you were actually awake. 

You took a pause. 

And then another. 

Who was the last person you had seen? 

“Where am I?” you asked instead, trying to appear sane. Your voice sounded unfamiliar. 

The woman’s expression pinched. “You’re in Spring Court. You remember that, don’t you? Rhysand sent us.” 

“Rhysand?” you repeated, the name foreign on your tongue. “Sent us for what?” 

“Well, we were supposed to be rallying Tamlin into re-fortifying his borders to win back the Summer Court’s good graces, but that beast is an idiot. Forging agreements with witches was quite possibly the worst move he could have made.” 

“Witches?” 

“I know, unbelievable,” the blonde ranted, sitting back on her heels beside you. “We came to help only to find out he had helped himself to the wicked. I knew he was distraught after Feyre, but to turn to this?” 

The pounding in your head was making it increasingly difficult to follow the tale the woman was spinning. Perhaps if you had more backstory, more information, you would understand what she was talking about. 

Desperate for that connection, you winced as you asked, “Um, not to offend, but… who are you?” 

Her aggravated expression crumpled into one of shock and concern. Her mouth parted, her brows came together at a point, and then she shifted, bringing her hands to your shoulders. When you flinched at the touch, the woman pulled her hands back, her fingers curling into her palms. “You don’t recognize me?” she asked, trepidation lining her tone. 

You shook your head, immediately regretting the action as pain shot up your neck. 

“Not at all?” she whispered. When your face remained blank, she pulled her hands into her lap. “Do you know who you are?” 

Another lapse in silence. 

“My Gods…” 

Darkness materialized nearby—swirling darkness. It reminded you of shadows and brought you a sense of peace for the first time since you opened your eyes. 

But then people started emerging from the darkness, taking up space in the vast forest, and that peace collapsed. Two large men with wings stomped against the twig-covered floor, causing a raucous disturbance as they began hurrying an older woman out from behind them. They both spoke in low, rushed tones and you wanted all the sound to stop. 

You ignored the woman’s directions from before and squeezed your head in your hands, your eyes snapping shut. It didn’t work, and you hadn’t expected it to, but Gods did your head hurt. It hurt and it was plagued by an impossible pressure that wouldn’t seem to let up.

“Mor, how long has she been awake?” one of the men asked. You felt him kneel beside you, felt him place rough, textured hands on your wrists in an attempt to pry your hands down. But he was gentle—so very gentle. 

“Azriel, she—” 

“Mor, if you could move aside. I need to look at her,” a much older voice chimed in. 

There was shuffling around you, new hands pressing to your face. You heard whispering that you couldn’t make out, and then the panic set in. 

You didn’t know these people. When you first woke up, the disorientation was focal; you were concerned about the pounding in your head and your whereabouts and that was it. But there were so many people here now, and you didn’t know any of them. 

You didn’t know who you were. Did they know who you were? They had to. 

“Majda, stop. You’re scaring her,” the man beside you, Azriel you’d heard him be called, practically hissed. 

Majda only hummed. “I am doing the job you brought me here to do. If I can’t work around a mating bond I will send you away, Shadowsinger.” 

Your breath came out in faster huffs, each one deeper than the last. You opened your eyes to try and gain some footing in the situation, still keeping your hands glued to your head. 

Your gaze went out before it went in, and you saw the blonde woman, Mor, beside a much larger man. His shoulder-length hair was messy and windswept, and he sent you a bittersweet, sympathetic smile that you couldn’t replicate. He watched with furrowed brows as your eyes darted from him, to Mor, to the wide forest around you. 

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t take her home first,” the man standing by the trees grumbled. “She would be more comfortable there.”  

“We didn’t want to move her with a head injury,” Azriel growled. “Not one from a witch.” 

His voice sent your attention towards him. Azriel was on his knees beside you, holding your wrists with his thumb circling the back of your hand in delicate strokes. He was painfully beautiful and you were left to wonder, yet again, if you were truly awake. When your gazes met, something foreign pulled at your ribs and the pressure sent an unexpected scream past your lips. You hunched over in a panic, yanking yourself away from those beside you.

That wasn’t right. None of this felt right. 

The older woman, Majda, cursed, staring after you as you pushed yourself further and further away. Each movement sent a new ache aflame in your head, but that didn’t stop you because you needed to get away. Your feet kicked up dirt and rocks and your hands tore with the effort but this wasn’t right. 

Azriel reached you before you could hit the tree just inches from your back. He held your head in his own hands and locked you in his gaze, keeping you trapped in the yellows and browns and the flecks that joined them. He took exaggerated breaths, wings flared out to block out the sun, and then he began whispering. 

It took a moment for you to understand the words, your heavy breaths mostly drowning them out. 

Something swished in the distance. More whispering, more secrets. 

“You’re okay. I’ve got you.” 

When Azriel’s voice finally came through, it was like a lifeline. 

“I’m here, my love. You’re safe. I know it hurts, I know.” 

It was odd, finding peace in a stranger. The shadows that seemed to dance around him swirled into shapes that framed your skin, and some of the panic felt foolish in their presence. They twisted and curved, somehow amplifying the cool tone of Azriel’s voice as he promised you things you had no capacity to understand. 

But he never stopped talking, not even when your gaze left his to follow his shadows instead. If anything, the action seemed to spur on the small beings more, and you wondered—for a brief moment—if he was controlling them. 

Something like amazement seeped into your panic as you whispered, “Who are you?” 

You didn’t know the man in front of you, that much was true, but he looked so… broken at your words. Something akin to pain clashed with his beautiful features as his jaw clenched to an unnatural degree. You were surprised that his teeth didn’t crack beneath the pressure. You wondered what else he could withstand—what atrocities he’d seen to make his eyes turn so dark when you spoke your words out loud. 

“No,” Azriel growled, chin hooking over his shoulder. His wings pulled back to reveal a new man, but this one looked slightly different from the others. No wings, different eyes. “You stay out of her head, Rhysand.” 

Rhysand. He was the one that had sent you here.

The concern on Rhysand’s face looked unnatural, like it didn’t belong there. “Az, it could help. Let me help her.” 

“You could make it worse. We have no idea what that witch did to her.” As Azriel spoke, shadows began to cover you more and more. Your sight became dim, your body camouflaged in darkness. 

“Looking in could be the only way to figure that out.” The next bout of silence was uncomfortable. The pounding in your head persisted, exacerbating to the point of tears along your waterline. “I know what you’re feeling, Azriel. I get it. But I want to help her, brother. You know I would never hurt her.” 

A twig snapped beneath a boot.

Azriel growled low in his chest. 

The pounding gave way to a sharp pain, and it made your senses lighter, less focused. 

You couldn't remember ever passing out before, but you thought it might feel like this. 

“Stay away from her.” 

“She doesn’t remember you, Azriel.” 

A choked breath. “Don’t touch my mate.” 

Darkness that surpassed the shadows finally granted you a reprieve from the pain. 

Maybe you'd wake up and this would all make sense.

Part 2 ♡

[noirscript]

silent servitude

WARNING/S! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. YANDERE. noncon; breeding; powerplay; biting; slightly descriptive sex scenes; f!reader

One must abide by His Majesty's every rule.

It was a phrase you often hear from other servants in the castle from the moment you joined them as your mother's apprentice. A phrase that helped them survive the dog-eat-dog world inside the palace walls.

“You're not expected to excel in your work, but do not even think about failing the task given to you.” Your mother grabbed your shoulders with a squeeze. “Do you understand, my child?”

You nodded your head as you tightened your grip on your skirt. “Yes, mother.”

She lightly tap your cheek before placing a lasting kiss on your forehead. “Go on, dear. I will see you before sunset.”

You looked around your surroundings before hesitantly nodding. For some reason, you can't seem to ignore what you've been feeling from the moment you entered the servant's gate. As if someone's watching your every move.

The path inside the dark tunnel was short, but for you, the time seemed to slow down. Your feet felt heavy to take one step forward after another. Like it was keeping you from going any further.

“You've arrived,” a middle-aged woman spoke while standing in the midst of the desolate area, few steps from where you came from. “Follow me.”

You scanned your surroundings, a poor attempt in remembering the path where you came from. However, the more you walk further and further away from the path that leads to your mother, the more you could sense something ominous was about to occur.

“Are you listening?”

You bowed your head and apologized.

“Stand tall and look at me,” she ordered. “In this castle, you must keep your eyes and ears open at all times. Do not even try to let your mind wander elsewhere. If you don’t want to suffer any consequences.”

Your body shook. You tried to speak, but your voice broke. However, when you nodded your head in desperation, the woman simply turn around and started to list down the rules within that castle.

“Do you even know why you're here?”

“T-To train to become my m-mother's replacement...”

The woman sneered. “If that'll help you sleep at night.”

After giving you a tour around an area that only a handful of servants can access, she led you towards a gated path that lead towards a small chateau in the middle of a small open field inside the castle walls.

The chateau, albeit small compared to the colossal main palace, was still bigger than your home. You also noticed the crawling vines on its walls, and as well as its tinted windows that kept its interior hidden from prying eyes.

“You will keep this place in order. You may not ask for anyone's help. You will only work here alone. Your food will be provided by one of the servants, but do not let anyone else inside the chateau.”

“But my lady...”

“That is all you need to know.” She looked down at your stature before clicking her tongue. “Stupid commoners.”

With that, she left you on your own.

THINKING BACK, you should've realized the message behind her poisonous words. Nobody would think that it is normal for a servant to clean an entire chateau within the day all by themselves.

That doing such chore might result to an inevitable mishaps that forces one to change their attire. Something that might force them to take every piece of clothing from themselves.

“Y-Your Majesty, please forgive this commoner from—” you felt one of his large, calloused hand caressing your face while the other hand pulled you closer to his bare body.

“Kept that mouth shut before I do it myself,” he whispered against your cheek before slightly biting it. “Who would've thought that this would be an easy chase?”

Callix, the reigning monarch, is known for his compassion towards the commoners. Some people would even see him interact with the lowest of the poor during their darkest moment, providing them hope and warmth.

But as you writhe beneath him, allowing him to touch every inch of your body as he please, made you doubt everything you heard about him.

After savoring your heat, he aligned his thick member against your quim. Callix grabbed you by your cheeks and forced you to meet his gaze.

“Please...” you pleaded, but he only swallowed all your pleas and cries as he penetrated your tight walls.

When your first intercourse with him ended almost immediately, you believed that he would let you go. That he would order you leave and never show yourself in front of him.

But after resting his head against the crook of your neck, he suddenly grabbed your ankles and pushing it apart.

You could feel his cum gush out of your quim, but Callix was far from satisfied.

That night alone, he ravished your body until the morning sun has risen.

When you woke up, you felt the coldness of the heavy iron wrapped around your ankles.

“You're awake,” you heard his voice from somewhere in the room. “I have some news for you. So, open your eyes.”

You tried to open your eyes, but for some reason, your eyelids felt heavy.

“Are you disobeying my orders?” he asked while gritting his teeth.

“Open your eyes!” he demanded as he grab your cheeks tightly.

You tried your best to open at least one of your eyes and look at him.

“There's my queen's beautiful eyes.” You could feel his hands all over your body as he leave kissing against your face. “Can you hear me, my queen?”

“M’not... queen...”

He chuckled before yanking your hair back, exposing your neck to him.

“You dare oppose me, hm?” he asked as he harshly nip your neck. “Are you forgetting who I am, my queen?”

How you wish you could simply forget who he is.

Quick note: This might be the start of some series. Let me know your thoughts :)

[steddiealltheway]

Eddie is having a boring summer day.

He could go to the mall if he wanted to, but it's hot outside, and he really doesn't want to deal with people at the moment. Plus, the last time he went, he's pretty sure he saw Steve Harrington in a sailor's uniform that made him feel a certain way. But he's pretty sure he hallucinated that.

He hopes he hallucinated that. Especially the part where he felt attracted to him. Like full-blown, he wanted to set sail on an ocean of flavor with him, or whatever stupid line he had said when he passed by the ice cream parlor.

So, yeah, the mall is not an option for him at the moment. But maybe it'll burn down or something and he'll never have to see Steve's face again.

A knock on his trailer door breaks him out of the slight trance, and Eddie rushes to answer it. He hopes it's not Jeff asking for his-

All thoughts stop when the door swings open and he finds Steve Harrington on the other side. In his sailor's uniform.

What the fuck?

Please be hallucinating.

"Hey," Steve says as if they've talked more than a handful of times over the past few years of passing each other in the hall.

Eddie swallows hard. "What are you doing here?" he asks, trying so hard not to eyefuck Steve.

"I was wondering if you were still selling weed?" Steve says.

Eddie sighs and gestures for him to come inside. Might as well get this over with so he can get closer to screaming into a pillow.

Once Steve is in his trailer, he closes the door behind him and rushes off to his room, grabbing his metal lunch/drug box quickly before looking in the mirror and quickly trying to clean himself up a bit. He stops when he realizes he's doing this for Steve Harrington for Christ's sake.

He opens up the little box and doesn't look at Steve and his damn beautiful hair as he pretends to look for his weed.

He isn't prepared for Steve to say, "I should warn you that I haven't gotten paid yet, so I was wondering if there was any other way I could pay for this?"

Eddie freezes and slowly looks up. There's no way he heard that correctly. Shit, is he dreaming? He does not want another Steve dream. Jeff had made fun of him for weeks after he confessed to it. "I'm sorry, what?"

Steve just shrugs casually. "Like, I could give you my watch until I can pay you properly."

Eddie sets his lunch/drug box down harshly on the counter next to him and runs both hands over his face. "Christ, Steve, that is not what I thought you meant."

"What did you think I meant?" Steve asks.

Eddie drops his hands from his face and raises his eyebrows at Steve, hoping he understands. Steve just tilts his head to the side, looking way too adorable for a damn jock, but Eddie blames the sailor uniform for that.

He sighs and curses under his breath before saying, "I thought you were offering to like..." he trails off and reluctantly gestures to his crotch.

Steve finally catches on to what he's saying as his eyebrows raise and his mouth makes a little 'o' shape. He nods for a second before pausing. "Wait, would that get me weed for free?"

Eddie's eyes widen. There's no way that Steve understood what he just gestured.

But then Steve shrugs and walks closer to him saying, "I won't tell if you don't."

Eddie quickly backs into his counter and hisses out, "There's no way I'm letting you blow me when I haven't even had my first kiss." He immediately regrets the words as soon as he says them. NOT because he just rejected Steve but because he just revealed to him that he's never been kissed before.

God, could this get any more embarrassing?

Steve pauses and looks him over, eyes flickering over his face as if considering... "How much would a first kiss get me?"

Eddie's pretty sure his heart stops. What the hell? "How fucking desperate are you for this weed?" Eddie asks.

"Not that desperate," Steve confesses.

Okay, this is definitely a dream. Eddie is now entirely convinced,

But then, Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair before resting it on his hips. "Sorry, man, it's just... I haven't gotten any action in weeks now, and I have this coworker that reminds me every day about how much that means that I suck. And my favorite kid has gone away to this damn science camp. And my dad is being more of an asshole than usual whenever he comes home, which is honestly not often, but he still somehow makes my life hell. And I'm sorry for unloading this shit onto you right now and for making a move on you. But could you please let me know how I could get some weed without making you uncomfortable?"

Eddie stares at him for a few moments before he reaches into his bag for a half-ounce. He hands the bag to Steve, pressing it into his hand. "Usually twenty bucks, but it's on the house for you." Because shit, he needs it.

Steve stares at it for a few seconds before pocketing it. He doesn't leave though. He just stares at Eddie conflictedly.

"What?" Eddie asks.

"You're sure there's nothing I can do for you?" Steve asks.

Eddie almost thinks it sounds like he wants to do something for him. So he folds his arms and boldly asks, "Why did you offer to kiss me?"

Steve shrugs. "I've heard the rumors that you're um... And I just... I think that you're... cute. For a guy," he rushes to clarify.

Eddie stares at him for a few seconds. Is Steve Harrington... not straight? There's no damn way. He's probably just screwing with him or something. But also... he sees that look in his eyes - the curiosity and fear - that makes him think... maybe he's being genuine.

"Are you fucking with me?" Eddie breathes out.

Steve shakes his head. "No, I wouldn't do that. That's not cool."

Eddie pinches himself hard. Ouch. Not a dream.

"So," Eddie says carefully, "Are you still offering to kiss me in place of paying for the weed?"

"I'll make it worth it," Steve says quickly.

Eddie takes a second to think about it. And really, how the hell can he turn down Steve Harrington in a sailor outfit being his first kiss? He's a weak, weak man. But... it's also sacrificing twenty bucks.

Damn, it's worth it.

"Okay," Eddie breathes out.

Steve smiles and gets closer to him, successfully trapping him back against the counter. His hand comes up to slowly cup Eddie's face, stroking a thumb over his cheek as the other one rests on the counter behind him.

Eddie takes in a deep shakey breath.

Steve's eyes flicker down to his lips and back to his eyes. "I won't do anything you're not comfortable with, so just pinch me if you want out, okay?"

Shit, why do the words make Eddie's brain melt? He hums and nods in response.

Steve leans in slowly but stops right before kissing him to ask, "Can I please kiss you?"

"Fuck yes," Eddie says, grabbing Steve by the tie of the sailor's uniform and pulling him until his lips press against him.

It's like every nerve in Eddie's body is on fire. He lets go of the tie to run his hands over Steve's back, pulling him closer as Steve traces his tongue over the seam of his lips.

Eddie moans, letting him in, tasting mint and a hint of something cherry as Steve deepens the kiss. Eddie makes it his mission to get Steve as close as possible to him, hands moving into his gorgeous hair and tugging him closer, groaning when Steve pulls away and bites his bottom lip only to soothe it with his tongue before moving in again to kiss him.

Eddie gets lost in it all, knowing that no first kiss is supposed to be this fucking good. He groans when Steve's hands move to grip the back of his neck and try to pull him in the same way Eddie is doing to him.

And shit, he cannot get enough of him. But he also cannot breathe.

He breaks the kiss, panting into Steve's mouth, but not feeling bad about it when Steve does the same, sounding equally out of breath.

Steve still presses three more gentle kisses against his mouth before pulling back and mumbling out, "Fuck."

Eddie takes in the boy, flushed red, hair wild, lips a bit puffy and wet, and with pupils blown wide. And he knows the image will forever ruin him.

Steve runs his hand through his hair again - a nervous tick? - as he catches his breath.

Eddie can't help but ask, "Was that... okay?"

Steve's eyes widen in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? That was perfect. And you've never kissed anyone before?"

Eddie shakes his head.

"Shit, man. I guess you're a natural or something."

Eddie flushes red at the compliment.

Steve clears his throat and gestures toward the door. "Well, I've gotta head out. But thank you for this, and for not making fun of the stupid sailor outfit."

Eddie chokes down the words I think it's hot and instead says, "Of course, and if you want a... discount... I'm always available."

Steve nods. "Right." He smiles and moves toward the door.

Eddie follows behind him.

Right before he opens the door, Steve turns around and kisses him again, it surprises Eddie so much that he almost doesn't register Steve slipping something into his front pocket. But as Steve pulls away, he gives him a wink before slipping out the door and making his way to his car.

Eddie watches as Steve gets in and slides his hand into his pocket. He feels something folded up and pulls it out, looking down to find a twenty-dollar bill in his hand meaning...

Steve shoots him a wicked smile before driving away, joyfully bobbing his head along to whatever song is playing on his radio.

Eddie pinches himself one more time to make sure he isn't dreaming.

Ow.

He smiles wide. Maybe Steve will take him up on his "discount" again.

(Thank you @henderdads for suggesting the sailor uniform)