#which is obviously bad and should be addressed and stopped

[lesbianjudasiscariot]

misandry is so not a real thing. any situation where women "have it easier" (which don't even really exist) are always because of culture the patriarchy created.

[rivkae-winters]

Edit: the app launched and Is down- I have the initial apology video in a post here and I’m working on getting a full archive of their TikTok up ASAP. I’m letting the rest of this post remain since I do still stand by most of it and also don’t like altering things already in circulation.

Warning for criticism and what I’d consider some harsh to outright mean words:

So I’ve just been made aware of the project known of as ‘lore.fm’ and I’m not a fan for multiple reasons. For one this ‘accessibility’ tool complicates the process of essentially just using a screen reader (something native to all I phones specifically because this is a proposed IOS app) in utterly needless and inaccessible ways. From what I have been seeing on Reddit they have been shielding themselves (or fans of the project have been defending them) with this claim of being an accessibility tool as well to which is infuriating for so many reasons.

I plan to make a longer post explaining why this is a terrible idea later but I’ll keep it short for tonight with my main three criticisms and a few extras:

1. Your service requires people to copy a url for a fic then open your app then paste it into your app and click a button then wait for your audio to be prepared to use. This is needlessly complicating a process that exists on IOS already and can be done IN BROWSER using an overlay that you can fully control the placement of.

2. This is potentially killing your own fandom if it catches on with the proposed target market of xreader smut enjoyers because of only needing the link as mentioned above. You don’t have to open a fic to get a link this the author may potentially not even get any hits much less any other feedback. At least when you download a pdf you leave a hit: the download button is on the page with the fic for a reason. Fandom is a self sustaining eco system and many authors get discouraged and post less/even stop writing all together if they get low interaction.

3. Maybe we shouldn’t put something marketed as turning smut fanfic into audio books on the IOS App Store right now. Maybe with KOSA that’s a bad idea? Just maybe? Sarcasm aside we could see fan fiction be under even more legal threat if minors use this to listen to the content we know they all consume via sites like ao3 (even if we ask them not to) and are caught with it. Auditory content has historically been considered much more obscene/inappropriate than written content: this is a recipe for a disaster and more internet regulations we are trying to avoid.

I also have many issues with the fact that this is obviously redistributing fanfiction (thus violating the copyright we hold over our words and our plots) and removing control the author should have over their content and digital footprint. Then there is the fact that even though the creator on TikTok SAYS you can email to have your fic ‘excluded’ based on the way the demo works (pasting a link) I’m gonna assume that’s just to cover her ass/is utter bullshit. I know that’s harsh but if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck it’s probably a duck.

I am all for women in stem- I’ve BEEN a woman in Stem- but this is not a cool girl boss moment. This is someone naive enough to think this will go over well at best or many other things (security risks especially) at worst.

In conclusion for tonight: I hope this person is a troll but there is enough hype and enough paid for web domains that I don’t think that’s the case. There are a litany of reasons every fanfic reader and writer should be against something like this existing and I’ll outline them all in several other posts later.

Do not email their opt out email address there is no saying what is actually happening with that data and it is simply not worth the risks it could bring up. I hate treating seemingly well meaning people like potential cyber criminals but I’ve seen enough shit by now that it’s better to be safe than sorry. You’re much safer just locking all your fics to account only. I haven’t yet but I may in the future if that is the only option.

If anyone wants a screen reader tutorial and a walk through of my free favorites as well as the native IOS screen reader I can post that later as well. Sorry for the heavy content I know it’s not my normal fare.

[good-chimes]

Based on @tibbycaps’s very funny convexian hitman au, where vexes Cub and Scar have been ‘voluntarily’ employed as hitmen by the governing NHO.

YR 1, DAY 1 OF CONTRACT

Receptionist: Hello and welcome to the NHO! We are proud to protect the citizens of Hermit City. How can I help you?

Cub: We want to get past those security barriers.

Receptionist: Uh…so you’re…visitors?

Scar: We’re employees!

Cub: Since this morning.

Scar: We have a contract and everything. We’re totally official and definitely allowed in the building.

Receptionist: Um. Do you have your passes?

Cub: Oh, yeah, yeah, of course. Just a moment.

Scar: Do we have passes! Of course we have passes. Cub, give her the passes.

Receptionist: Sir, that’s an aluminum bottle cap.

[The visitors examine the item.]

Scar: Looks like an employee pass to me.

Cub: My bad. What about this?

Receptionist: That’s a penknife. That’s a sandwich wrapper—that’s a library card—I mean, it’s the right shape, but—that’s a driver’s license which is obviously not yours—that’s a fifty-dollar bill—that’s a second driver’s license for a completely different person. Sir, literally none of these things are employee passes.

Cub: Yeahhhhh, but do you get paid enough to notice?

Receptionist: Do you have a line manager? Or, um, a hiring manager? Who’s in charge of you?

[The visitors consult.]

Scar: Someone is, probably.

Cub: Might be Beef.

Receptionist: Uh, Director Beef is, uh, one of the heads of the whole organization. Are you sure?

Cub: Eh.

Scar: He did have a nice suit. Good shoes, too! Shame about the soot stains afterwards.

Receptionist: Okay, I’ll…just ping my boss… and I guess we’ll just start the process to get you passes. Let me take your first and last names, please?

Scar: Mister Scar GoodTimes, and this is Cub.

Receptionist: Cub?

Cub: Yup.

Receptionist: That’s a nickname…?

Cub: No, it’s a full name. Cub. Uhhhhh. Fan.

Receptionist: Sir, did you just look at that baseball pennant?

Cub: Yeah. Huge coincidence.

Receptionist: Okay, I’ll send them to print…orientation booklet…fire exits…do you need any accommodations for your, er, your wings?

Cub: Naw, they’re not real in this dimension. Go straight through physical matter. Walls, people—

Scar: —bars, safe doors—

Receptionist: Um.

Cub: Vex joke. Cultural.

Receptionist: Oh, right, you’re Vex! Like—what were those guys called who ate that policeman on the news…? ConVex!

Cub: Noooooo, no, no, we’re nothing like them. We’re real upstanding citizens.

Scar: I heard those two went to prison.

Cub: To super jail.

Scar: For a thousand years!

Manager: Excuse me, I’m the head of front desk and security, what’s going on here?

Receptionist: Oh, hi, boss, these gentlemen were just—

Manager: I can see what they are! This should have been escalated as soon as they turned up. You should have known to call me the minute you saw a Vex!

Receptionist: They haven’t done anything wrong.

Manager: Not done anything wrong—you mean they haven’t eaten anyone yet.

Cub: I haven’t had my coffee.

Scar: I have! Who do you want us to start with?

Manager: Come with me, please. The Directors want to see you.

Scar: [voice retreating as the visitors are escorted away] This is a fancy office. I like the art.

Cub: Did you know you can turn that photocopier into a laser canon?

Manager: This is why they put you in prison! Stick close to me! Please stop touching things!

NOTICE TO FRONT DESK STAFF

The copier tray is to be loaded from the correct angle only. It is not a ‘useless piece of shit’, you are handling it incompetently.

HR will not be dealing with complaints of ‘substandard management’. HR are here to deal with your pay slips. Complaints of substandard management should be addressed to your manager, who will take appropriate action.

Colleagues are to act with caution around new NHO agents ‘Cub’ and ‘Scar’. Minimal contact is advised. Security can be contacted via the panic buttons.

YR 1, DAY 36 OF CONTRACT

Cub: Hey. Picking up a delivery.

Receptionist: Of course, sir. Have you got a parcel ticket?

Cub: Sure, give me an example and I’ll forge you one right now.

Receptionist: I just needed the number—never mind. Let me take a wild guess based on your deliveries so far: is it the crate that’s green and glowing?

Cub: Huh, thought it would be blue. Maybe a kind of teal.

Receptionist: Well, we only have one that glows. It makes a buzzing sound when you get near it.

Cub: Ohh yeah, that’s the one.

Receptionist: Last time you got a delivery it was snakes.

Cub: Important experimental material.

Receptionist: Can you let us know if it’s snakes again? Only I need to find a heat lamp if you’re out on a mission.

Cub: Oh, yeah, right. I can build a heat lamp for you to keep here. You want something for it?

Receptionist: Okay, sir, for the last time, I don’t know where all your unmarked fifty-dollar bills come from, but it’s not normal to bribe building staff to do our jobs. 

Cub: Yeah? No deal, huh?

Receptionist: …Can you really turn the photocopier into a laser?

NOTICE TO FRONT DESK STAFF

URGENT: ALL STAFF MUST STAY AWAY FROM THE PHOTOCOPIER UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE

YR 1, DAY 82 OF CONTRACT

Receptionist: Good afternoon, welcome to the headquarters of NH—Scar?

Scar: Hello there! How’s it going?

Receptionist: Hey, Scar?

Scar: Uh-huh?

Receptionist: Your whole arm is covered in blood.

Scar: Blood? Oh, this blood? Don’t worry, don’t worry, everything’s fine. It’s not my blood. How was your weekend?

Receptionist: Are you sure it’s not your blood? That looks like someone sliced through your whole sleeve!

Scar: [tastes his own arm gingerly] Wait, yeah, some of it is mine. Just this bit, though.

Receptionist: Don’t eat it, oh my God.

Scar: It’s fine, Cub says we’re immune to all pathogens.

Receptionist: Seriously?

Scar: Nah, I think he just said that because I took his research away from him when he had the flu.

Receptionist: You should go wash that wound. That can’t be healthy. What have they got you doing out there?

Scar: Oh, y’know, this and that, we solve problems. We’re problem solvers. In fact we signed a contract to do that, so I guess we keep solving problems forever. Can I have one of these mints?

YR 1, DAY 145 OF CONTRACT

Cub: Gooood afternoon. What a beautiful day. Y’know, this kind of day makes me think, the thing about human perception—

Receptionist: The what.

Cub: The thing about human perception is it’s subjective. I did a PhD on this. So sometimes you could think you saw someone bring something into the office that you need to write down in the biohazards register, but actually, you could report to your boss there wasn’t anything there.

Receptionist: Sir, you are trying to hide an eight-foot-tall Venus fly trap behind your back. It’s taller than you are.

Cub: Seven foot at most.

Receptionist: [sighs] I guess I didn’t see anything. You want a mint?

NOTICE TO FRONT DESK STAFF

Cascaded from Legal: Employees are required to familiarize themselves with the new and expanded Dispute Resolution Policy.

Pursuant to this, threatening to eat your senior manager is NOT an approved method of settling conflicts and WILL result in disciplinary action.

Lava traps are ALSO EXPLICITLY DISALLOWED.

YR 2, DAY 407 OF CONTRACT

Receptionist: Cub, you don’t have to bribe me to get into the building after hours. You literally work here. I know you have a 24-hour pass. Just use it on the main door.

Cub: Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?

Receptionist: Try bribing an IT tech for codes to the secure areas instead.

Cub: Got those already. Phishing email. But y’know, all the techs make triple what they pay you.

Scar: And! I wanted a mint.

Receptionist: The mints are FREE.

Scar: It tastes better if it’s not!

Receptionist: That doesn’t make ANY sense! You two get back here and explain!

NOTICE TO FRONT DESK STAFF

Please find attached the Employee Satisfaction Survey. As always, we look forward to listening to your views to make NHO a Great Place To Work. Participation is mandatory.

Our recent payment settlement unfortunately means no raises this financial year.

Operational note: does any Front Desk team member know how to disconnect the ex-photocopier from the power supply without it immediately blowing up? You are all being very unhelpful about it???

YR 3, DAY 763 OF CONTRACT

Receptionist: Oh, hey, Scar.

Scar: …

Receptionist: Wait—Scar? Buddy? Are you okay?

Scar: Have you seen Cub?

Receptionist: Not since last week, I think.

Scar: Oh.

Receptionist: It’s the night shift. Was he supposed to meet you?

Scar: Yeah. They gave him a solo mission, and I dunno what time he was supposed to get back, either, but it wasn’t two o’clock in the morning. I’m just gonna…hey, can I wait down here? Until he gets in?

Receptionist: Sure. If you pull the chairs together, I guess you could make a kind of bed. I’ll keep an eye on the cameras.

-

Scar: I mean, nothing can take down Cub, right? That man’s a tank, I tell you. A genuine tank.

Receptionist: Yeah. Definitely.

Scar: He would have called me if something went wrong.

Receptionist: He would’ve.

Scar: What time is it?

Receptionist: Just gone 3am.

-

Receptionist: Look, if you’re not going to sleep, I’m ordering you pizza.

Scar: Ooooh. Let’s get wings and make a night of it while we wait. Catch!

Receptionist: This is two hundred dollars.

Scar: Yeah, can we get sides?

-

Receptionist: Just gone 4am, before you ask.

Scar: I didn’t ask!

Receptionist: I saw you open your mouth. You’re really worried, aren’t you.

Scar: Noooo, I’m not worried. I never worry about Cub.

Receptionist: Cub’s always seemed way too capable to have a problem with a mission.

Scar: Yeah.

Receptionist: You two go back a long way, huh?

Scar: There’s just the two of us. It’s always been just the two of us. And, I’ll be honest, I like this work, we have fun doing it, but why’d they send him out solo? And you know what’s worse, I can’t even ask! If we put a foot out of line, we— [breaks off into a coughing fit]

Receptionist: Are you okay?

Scar: I’m fine, I’m fine! I’m fresh as a daisy.

Receptionist: It sure sounded like your own throat just tried to cut you off.

Scar: Well, maybe I just care a lot about the office Data Combustion Policy.

Receptionist: I think you mean the Data Protection Policy? On second thoughts, I remember last year’s Christmas party, so maybe not—oh, hey.

Scar: What?

Receptionist: I saw something on the cameras, is that—

Cub: Yo.

Scar: Oh my God Cub I was so worried.

Cub: ‘m fine. [blurrily] Are those buffalo wings?

Scar: You are so not fine. You can have wings when you’re lying down!

Cub: ‘m taking these wings.

Receptionist: Here’s the first aid kit. You need to close the bag or the rest of the wings will fall out, guys. Guys. Look where you’re going. You have to open the doors before you go through them. Take the first aid kit with you!

YR 5, DAY 1561 OF CONTRACT

Receptionist: Good morning, and welcome to—oh, it’s you two. You brought a guest?

Cub: Howdy. This is Grian.

Grian: Apparently I work here now. Apparently I have “limited employment options”. Someone told me I’m lucky I’m not dead.

Scar: Haha, Mondays, am I right! So he’ll need a pass, and maybe a helping hand if she spaces out in the atrium.

Receptionist: Sure…oh, Grian, you’re on the system already. Here, take a temporary pass, and we’ll have your real one ready by lunchtime. Uh, if you need any help—

Grian: Wait, my date of birth is wrong on your screen. It’s the year before.

Receptionist: Did you just…read that backwards from the others side of my computer?

Scar: Wow, Grian, another nosebleed?

Grian: Shut up.

Cub: Your brain must be shrivelled up like a raisin by now.

Grian: Still works better than Scar’s!

Scar: [leans on the reception desk as the other two leave, bickering] Sooo…Grian’s not allowed outside without a Director’s approval.

Receptionist: Is that right?

Scar: Scary stuff, huh? If you happened to see him leave with us, and we just forgot to show you a permit…can I convince you into some sort of deal? As a friend?

Receptionist: You know, you can just ask a friend to do you a favor, you don’t have to pay me. I’ve known you for five years. I’m not gonna turn you in.

Cub: [calls] You coming, Scar?

Scar: I gotta go! Grian’s just a Watcher, she’s not dangerous. Grab some cash from Cub’s bottom desk drawer. They don’t even search our office anymore, so it’s just labelled ‘proceeds of crime (not)’. Cub’s traps will let you past.

Receptionist: Wait, are you—was that person—a Watcher—holy shit—

Scar: See ya later! Get the money!

Receptionist: [rolls eyes] Of course, sir. Have a nice day.

*chau Grian uses he/she pronouns

*Check out tibby’s chau tag!

[auras-moonstone]

hiii, I really really love all your job so much !!and I have a little request (you can obviously say no), can you do something with Ethan and "bad idea right?", I have this song on repeat and I need to see it with Ethan please

I hope you have a great day and I really love all that you do 💗💗💗

hi!! of course you can send song requests! i love olivia🥺

bad idea, right? — ethan landry

word count: 700

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

based on: bad idea, right? by olivia rodrigo

Y/N AND ETHAN’S RELATIONSHIP LASTED FOR AROUND SIX MONTHS. With Ethan so focused on college and Y/N having to work to afford her studies and also having to do exams and assignments, their little bubble just bursted and they decided to end it after those short but unforgettable months. They loved each other very much, which is why they knew it was for the best, because holding onto a relationship they couldn’t afford to be invested in 100% was very selfish.

And as much as they wanted to, they knew they could never go back to being just friends. It would be too painful. So, they stopped talking to each other… until that night at the dive bar.

Y/N was sitting on a table, beer on her hand as she listened with very little attention to the conversation her friends were having. She was so exhausted from work that she swore she could pass out at any moment, and the dimly lit setting didn’t help at all.

But then, she received a text that made her be fully awake. She stared at his name with eyes wide open, and traced the notification bubble with her fingertip, not bearing to read the text, she just stared at his contact name.

eth🤓💖

hey…

i know this random but i’m alone rn and i can’t seem to get you off my mind

would you like to come over? if you’re not busy

my new address is xxx xxx :)

it’s okay if you don’t want to, i understand… anyways, let me know ❤️

I’m alone. Can’t get you off my mind. Come over. Well, he certainly wasn’t inviting her to play a game—at least not one that didn’t involve her being on her knees as he grabbed her hair from behind, and make her roll her eyes in pleasure so hard it hurt.

Ethan’s face crossed her mind, and she thought about what she should do. She should probably not go. She shouldn’t meet him that night, it’s a bad idea, right? But her mind didn’t function well when it came to Ethan Landry. She knew she was his ex, but couldn’t people reconnect? Only one night and then she would erase him from her mind—god, she knew that was the biggest lie she’d ever said.

She grabbed her car keys, her purse and stood up, gaining the attention of her friends. “I’m tired, I want to sleep” In Ethan’s bed. Without further explanation, Y/N got into her car, wrecking all the plans she’d made with her friends.

y/n/n 👼🏻🫶🏻

be there in ten.

eth🤓💖

second floor

waiting for you

And he was. Y/N pulled up in his apartment and got into the elevator, pressing the button to the second floor. When she got out, she saw Ethan waiting for her by the door, boyish grin on his face—the one that always made Y/N want to drop onto her knees and make him scream her name until his voice broke.

She stood in front of Ethan, he was even taller than before, and he was towering over her. The boy looked so fucking hot that her brain could even mutter the word ‘hi’. So, instead of talking, Y/N grabbed him by the collar and smashed her lips against his with such ferocity and need that Ethan almost collapsed to the floor.

“So hot when you go straight to the point” he said in between kisses. They were moving, but Y/N didn’t know where to and she honestly didn’t care. He could fuck her in any corner of the apartment and it’d be fine. But then she tripped and felt the soft mattress under her.

“Upgraded your bed, I see” she panted as her hands traveled his hard chest, fire in her eyes.

Ethan nodded “Just got it, was wondering if you could give me a review of it.” he pressed sweet kisses to the valley of her breasts.

“Let’s get to work, then. Lay down.” Y/N ordered, and he obeyed in no time.

He watched her get rid of her shirt and bra, and he was so glad she accepted the invitation. “I missed you.”

“Me too, but let’s talk later. Right now, I want to feel you again. It’s been way too long.”

[xclowniex]

So if that terror attack on Lebanon is justified for the death of those 12 Druze children (which I'm sure you wouldn't be as heartbroken about them if they were killed by the IDF instead), what should the IDF punishment be for killing thousands of Palestinians children and how many Israeli civilians are you willing to let die in order to get to those Israeli terrorists? Assuming you think Israelis should even be punished for killing children (or that the word terrorists can be used to describe someone that isn't Muslim)

I wasn't going to answer this as I know it's obviously in bad faith but I'll bite

Stop putting your US centric views onto me. Here in New Zealand, we considering March 15th a terror attack. If you don't know what happened that day, a white supremist opened fire on two mosques in Christchurch. The white supremist who did it? He is a terrorist. I consider him a terrorist. All the media here considers him a terrorist. He is a terrorist.

New Zealand has designated a few white supremist groups and individuals as terrorists

Do you know who else is on this list?

Hezbollah.

Do you know who is not on this list? The IDF. You can check for yourself too

To quote the Terrorism Suppression Act 2002, which is ya know, laws surrounding terrorism, the IDF currently is exempt from it.

"However, an act does not fall within subsection (2) if it occurs in a situation of armed conflict and is, at the time and in the place that it occurs, in accordance with rules of international law applicable to the conflict."

(Sub section two refers to civilians being harmed or killed)

Fun fact about war crimes! Individuals get arrested for them and designated as war criminals, not everyone who is apart of the military. Bibi can be arrested for war crimes. Any individual IDF member who did the war crime can be arrested for war crimes. Whatever the Israeli version of John Smith is, who has never committed a war crime during his service, cannot be arrested for a war crime, and therefore cannot be labeled a terrorist.

But wouldn't Hamas and hezbollah be excempt from being a terrorist group as they're in an armed conflict? They've both committed terrorist acts outside of armed conflicts, ergo, terrorist organizations.

Also, you can read the act I was quoting if you want

https://www.legislation.govt.nz/act/public/2002/0034/latest/DLM152702.html?search=ts_act%40bill%40regulation%40deemedreg_terrorism+suppression+act_resel_25_a&p=1

So, now that we have established that the IDF has not committed a terror attack as they're currently in armed conflict with Hezbollah, the rest of what you said falls apart, but to address it.

1. I would be equally as sad if the IDF killed 12 druze children

2. I think that any IDF members who have committed war crimes + bibi should be arrested for war crimes as I've stated so many times

3. If I lived in an ideal world, all hezbollah members would simply be arrested and there would be no loss of life. But we don't live in an ideal world. Hezbollah won't allow themselves to be arrested. Hezbollah also remains an active threat. If IDF members who have committed war crimes + Bibi refuse to be arrested and are still an active threat to people (key word active threat), yeah killing them would be best. Considering the exploding pagers had a mortality rate of 0.3%, and not all of that were civilians, I would expect a mortality rate of less than 0.3% of civilians near the individual war criminal to be killed.

Oh whats that? Not the answer you expected yeah I thought so. How about instead of frothing at the mouth trying to find a gotcha you can use to dehumanize me, you actually A) read up on laws* and definitions and B) read through my blog first because I've said many times that individuals who have committed war crimes should be arrested

*I know that NZ law may differ from laws elsewhere but they're pretty similar in the US, Canada and the UK

[merlinmarvelandother-oneshots]

Hello, good morning/afternoon/night.

(this was written with a translator, in case there are spelling errors)

First of all I want to tell you that I adore everything you write and the way you do it.

And second, could I place an order?

I'm still learning how to use Tumblr, so I don't know how to do several things and I don't know if I'm writing this where I should.

I hope it doesn't bother you ir make you feel Uncomfortable!!

Lately I have had some situations in which a...family member...in an indirect and at the same time direct way has told me that I am...overweight/fat...and that has made me feel bad, so only if you want, could you make some headcanon about how Undertale, Underswap, Underfell and Horrortale would react to me believing that.

(I mean, they would deny it and say nice things or they would laugh and make fun of me for it and highlight having a double chin and a belly and stuff like that...)

But of course, if you don't want, of course it's not necessary or if it seems like there are too many characters, you can remove them or if you want ignore this and I'll understand.

Thank you for taking the time to read this!

anon, i’m so sorry this happened to you <3 it’s unfair and nobody should have to go through that.

readers gender isn’t specified, but i use “beautiful” and “gorgeous”

Undertale, Underfell, underswap, and horrortale skelebros reacting to a reader who has been fat-shamed

Undertale:

Sans:

-his brow bones would furrow

-“wait a minute, who said that?”

-he’d nod when you tell him

-“listen, they’re wrong. you’re beautiful as you are. now, i don’t want you starting any diets or anything if they would just make you unhappy, because i’ve heard plenty of stories about them being terrible. your family members just plain wrong. ‘kay?”

-he’d hug you if you were still upset

-from then on, he would tell you how gorgeous you were more often

papyrus:

-he would be even more upset than you were, honestly

-someone would DARE say such nasty things about HIS s/o / friend??

-he would storm to their house, knock on the door, and that man WOULD. NOT. BUDGE. until your family member listened to him.

-he would be harsh but obviously be nice about it

underfell:

Sans:

-why do you give a fuck???

-he’s honestly so confused

-like, his brother told him the same thing (which also confused him, seeing as he is a SKELETON) and he just?? didn’t care??

-he tells you to stop giving a fuck

-that’s it

-“why do you give a shit about what they say? their opinions are ass. you look great”

papyrus:

-he doesn’t look up from his book when you say that

-“mm. you could stand to lose a few pounds, i guess”

-(you don’t think he quite realized how hurtful that is)

-if you tell him he’d ask why

-he thinks he’s genuinely looking out for your best interests.

underswap:

sans:

-“they told you WHAT!?”

-he would be FUMING with anger

-but, he would calm himself down enough to reassure you

-he would tell you that you look amazing, and you shouldn’t start a diet that you wouldn’t enjoy just to conform to their standards of beautiful or healthy.

-he would talk to the family member afterwards, angrier than he would normally like to be when resolving a conflict

-you never hear those words from your family member again, trust me

papyrus:

-“fuck ‘em”

-you appear slightly offended that he would say something like that about your family member, so he elaborates

-“they want to police you on how traditionally beautiful or healthy you are. you were happy before that, but now their words have upset you, for something that didn’t need said in the first place. so, fuck ‘em. that’s an asshole move”

-he would not argue this with you

horrortale:

Sans:

-hes so fucking confused

-where he’s from, food is a scarcity, and your family’s bitching about “too much?”

-he contacts your family member, whether that be finding their address from your address book or by finding their phone number on your phone, and gives him a piece of his mind.

-he would rant for HOURS if he could, or if he could keep his train of thought for that long, about how lucky they are for having food in the first place.

-afterwards he would encourage you about how beautiful you are, and how wrong your family member is

papyrus:

-he would look at you with concern

-overweight?

-he won’t pretend to be an expert on human weight, but even if you are “overweight,” that’s a good thing! it means you have access to food!

-that’s SO special to him.

-he would tell you that no matter what your family member thought, you were BEAUTIFUL

-he would be happy to talk to your family member if you wanted him to

[spitblaze]

Okay I've witnessed it happening enough in Queer Internet Circles that I think I can confidently say something about it.

Can we PLEASE stop picking arbitrary lgbt+ demographics out of a hat and having entire conversations about how they 'aren't actually queer' and 'taking valuable resources' for the crimes of 'some of them are cringe' or 'some of them are assholes' or 'they have a nebulous privilege over the rest of us so they're the oppressor, actually'.

Like look, some conversations are absolutely worth having. There's a lot of transmasc shitheads who latch on to toxic masculinity or seem to completely forget what it's like to navigate a world that considers you a woman, or completely fail to realize that being transgender yourself doesn't suddenly mean you don't have to examine yourself for internalized transphobia or transmisogyny. And that should be addressed, every community has its issues, no community is a monolith, no demographic is made up of entirely good smart righteous people or evil bad oppressive abusers. Obviously.

But I'm not talking about that!

I'm talking about people bringing up the same tired rhetoric they used when they tried to claim that nonbinary people are clout-chasing attention seekers who will keep cishet society from taking the rest of us seriously, that people used when they decided asexuals were actually cishets who co-opted our movement for their own personal gain, which was recycled from when people tried to claim that bisexuals are het-passing fakers and if a REAL queer has sex with one they'll be left for a cishet because that's what bisexuals do, which is the same as the shit they spewed at whoever the target was before that! It's paranoid nonsense all the way down, people looking for an acceptable target to take their shit out on!

Can we stop doing this, please?? Can we stop picking demographics within our own community that people arbitrarily decide are fine to bully and mock and kick out of the spaces they helped create because you think that they're cringe or that speaking about the issues they face is privileged whining? Can we stop giving bigoted cishets free reign on already vulnerable communities because someone arbitrarily decided that THESE queers are evil and cringe so its okay to make shitty comments and jokes about them? Can we PLEASE stop the cycle in its tracks while we can still see the crosshairs moving onto tranfems and trans women? We can stop this now before it starts getting uglier and deadlier, but we HAVE to be aware and do more than complaining about it online.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

Would you ever write unhinged carcar smut with voyeur Lando? 👀

oh, lord. WOULD i? do not threaten me with a good time. my wips file is sobbing, but. i see the potential. i see the gross potential in a very 4D way.

(mildly nsfw thing that i came up with on the fly):

------

lando hides himself in a cupboard wanting to surprise oscar with a caterpillar plushie after a bad race as a prank to make him laugh, make him feel better. except it turns out oscar has plenty of coping mechanisms of his own.

there's a knock on oscar's room door. and oscar has to take a deep breath and steady himself, and carlos is on the other side of it. why is carlos at the door? lando thinks, from inside his hiding place. i thought they didn't care for each other. but then oscar lets carlos in.

the door hasn't even clicked shut before carlos grabs oscar right on the neck like an errant pup, and presses his mouth against his. oscar's hands come up like he wants to resist for a moment, but against his own better instincts he palms carlos' waist through his fireproofs.

lando's like ?????? ??? ? ? ?? should i pop out of the cupboard and er, also, what the hell ??? ? ????? but yeah he's just trapped there. the other thought that he wishes not to address is the one that's like. why did i get oscar a plushie. it was a joke, but it's fucking stupid and immature and i didn't know he was into CARLOS, like. he won't even touch me, and he's making out with carlos. of course. and carlos would not get him a plushie because carlos is a proper grown-up.

and oscar breaks the kiss with carlos. which is more biting than kissing at this point. he mumbles take this fucking thing off about carlos's fireproofs. oscar drags carlos down onto the sofa, and lando can't see them anymore, and he's swearing under his breath and squats down to try and look.

but then lando, in his haste and excitement, loses his balance, and tumbles out of the cupboard. and all three of them are like: hello what are YOU doing at the devil's sacrament??

(then obviously they have horrible bizzaro throuple sex about it. there is definitely a part where carlos stares at lando and is like. "is that. a plushie." and lando gets very very embarrassed and whimper-y about it and oscar is like. "shut up mate stop making fun of him" @ carlos. and they do things with lando as the middle of this glorious gourmet sandwich. things that are probably still outlawed in a number of jurisdictions but thankfully only they know that it happened so it's like, fine. in the interest of good international relations even.)

------

so i told myself i didn't have anything for this. but it turns out my brainrot has no bounds.

i should add that the caterpillar plushie will witness acts that will deny all three men entrance past the gates of heaven and in fact send them on the direct express to hell, which is also where i live.

from would you ever write

[dailyaoyagi]

TW: abuse

Talking about everything Toya went through as a kid because I’m really tired of seeing people downplay it.

I should not have to make this at all but even after the First Concerto I’m still seeing people downplay what Harumichi did to Toya which is just…yes he’s not getting abused on screen like Mafuyu is and his dad isn’t manipulative like Mafumom but that still doesn’t make any of it ok? The reading comprehension in this fandom is really poor to say the least so here’s a post talking about what he went through.

The First Concerto reveals that Toya first touched the piano at 3. Does that seem normal to anyone? Ever since then his dad would forcibly isolate him and force him to play piano perfectly until he got it right. We only know one piece his dad would force him to perfect and that’s Fantasie Importu. You know. This.

And if forcing a toddler to play this isn’t bad enough if he messed up even once his dad would force him to do it all over again. FFS he wasn’t allowed to go to bed until he perfected it, that’s not normal for any kid. His dad explicitly ignored Toya telling him his fingers hurt as well and it caused him to break out into fevers and tendinitis. Even if his dad had the best intentions that’s still abuse plain and simple and there’s no excuse for it.

Another not so friendly reminder that Toya wasn’t allowed to go on trips or do anything that would even remotely be considered dangerous to his hands because his parents were paranoid about him not being able to become a pianist. He never got to experience anything normal kids got to because of his parents strict training and rules. All he’d ever get to do was sit in that one room being forced to play over and over again with no breaks for long hours which again isn’t ok. I’m so tired of seeing people downplay what he went through because “at least Harumichi isn’t Mafumom”.

I thankfully haven’t seen much of this after the First Concerto but I’ll still address it anyways: I really dislike the notion that Toya’s perfectly ok with everything now when he’s not? Disregarding how we see him break down because of it in the First Concerto he still has difficulty expressing himself and is still repressed emotionally. He’s very obviously healing yes but not everything is ok for him now, and it probably never will be because what he went through would fuck up anyone for life. I know that Harumichi only wanted the best for him and had one good moment during the First Concerto but that didn’t erase anything he did. In general can we please stop comparing him to Mafumom and trying to decide which one is worse? Because regardless of which one you say is worse it’ll feel like downplaying what the other went through.

That is all, I hope I don’t have to make this post again. Take a cute Toya on your way out.

[nostalgebraist]

I think your post about AI Doom doesn't really acknowledge the fact that, generally speaking, people enjoy being alive for its own sake and prefer it to being dead. Unless I'm misinterpreting, the conclusion of the post is essentially saying that not wanting people to be killed is "out of step with human values" which is obviously not true. Most people do not want to be killed. Killing people is bad. It would not be OK for AI to kill everyone even if it made something else afterwards.

(Pt 2) this all seems extremely obvious to me but I could not come up with an interpretation of that post which isn’t just broadly in favour of people being killed, which seems sort of like. The most evil thing anyone could ever possibly believe. So I am hoping that I misinterpreted

You're not alone, this aspect of yesterday's post was confusing to a lot of people.

FWIW I'm mostly tapped out on discussing the subject matter of that post for the moment, but this does deserves some kind of further explanation, so here goes.

----

First, to address something you didn't mention, but which was broadly confusing:

I am not saying: "when the doomers say AI will kill us all, they don't mean the natural reading of that phrase, they don't mean it will literally kill all the individual humans, they mean some weird other thing instead."

No, they really do just mean it will kill everyone. Sorry that wasn't clear.

----

What I did mean, when I talked about doomers vs. average Joe here, is that the idea of human extinction hits different if you're an anti-deathist transhumanist, versus if you aren't one.

If you're an anti-deathist, what's bad about extinction is, in part, the same thing that's bad about ordinary death. The anti-deathist looks around them and sees, in some sense, a slow-motion and staggered extinction already happening.

Even without extinction, we are all gonna die. Our great-great-great-great-great-grandparents' generation did not die out in an extinction event, but all the same, they are in fact extinct. Dead. 100% fatality rate, for those guys.

Sure, it was spread out over time, and "natural," but -- the anti-deathist argues, quite reasonably -- why should any of that matter to them, the dead ones? Those distinctions don't change any of what it is that's intuitively bad about dying in the first place.

The horror you express at "people being killed"? For the anti-deathist, that horror gets generalized to include the case of people being killed "by death," as it were. By just, dying, of old age or whatever, rather than by the hand of some other creature.

----

Now sure, even for the anti-deathist, there are important ways that extinction is worse than business as usual. Most obviously, extinction not only stops all the lives of people around now, but prevents the lives of any future people from getting created later on. (Plus of course, all else being equal, death sooner is worse than death later.)

If you're not an anti-deathist, though -- and most people aren't -- these special factors that make extinction worse (for the anti-deathist) are in fact your only objections to extinction.

That is not to say that they aren't extremely strong objections. Of course normal people do not want human extinction!

But for the normal person, there is this hard line between "extinction" and "business as usual." For such a person, there is a horror in the former that just isn't there in the latter, even though (as the anti-deathist likes to point out) business as usual still means a 100% fatality rate, on a long enough timeline.

For the anti-deathist, there is not this hard line. Extinction is bad. Getting killed by a person or a machine is bad. Dying of natural causes is bad. And a lot of the badness -- though by no means all of it -- comes from what is shared across all these cases, not what is special to each case alone.

----

OK, now let's talk more directly about your question.

Unless I'm misinterpreting, the conclusion of the post is essentially saying that not wanting people to be killed is "out of step with human values" which is obviously not true.

I mean, yeah, that's obviously not true.

But there are things sort of superficially similar to it that might be true.

And when something is true, but on the surface sounds bizarre and backwards and staggeringly wrong, I often like to play around with the way it sounds -- to just have a bit of fun with the way I can say things that seem so outrageous, and yet might not actually be wrong. Or even really outrageous, when properly understood.

And maybe I get carried with this, sometimes, at the expense of clarity. Sorry about that. (But also, it's my blog, where I write the kind of stuff I like writing. And I do like writing in this way. Them's the breaks.)

Anyway.

If we want to understand ordinary human values, then we need to cope with the "average Joe's" simultaneous belief in the following two things:

I really do not want to die. As a particular case, I really really do not want to die right now, today. But also, come to think of it, dying tomorrow would be super bad too. And you know what, the day after tomorrow? Same deal. And I guess I could go on like this.

I do not, at all, actively want to "live forever." In fact I kind of don't want this. If you directly ask me, I'll say the idea is sort of creepy and weird and bad. Or, even if I don't think that, I don't find the idea motivating at all. It might be acceptable, if it were forced on me, but none of my actions are driven by a desire to make it more likely.

(I am hand-waving away the concept of the afterlife here, which is involved in the typical Joe's actual beliefs in a way that annoyingly complicates the analysis while being tangential to my point. Let's say we're talking about the average atheist/agnostic but non-transhumanist Joe. I think the point can be generalized further, but I'm trying and failing to be brief here, so you'll just have to trust me.)

Now, together, these two beliefs are nearly a paradox.

Maybe they are just a paradox. Maybe you can't, really, think both of these at the same time without, on some level, kidding yourself. This is what the anti-deathist alleges, about the average Joe.

Maybe you agree. If so: congratulations, you're an anti-deathist too. Which is a perfectly valid point of view. Despite all I said in my post, I have quite a lot of sympathy for it, myself.

But the average Joe is really not an anti-deathist. This is just a fact about the world. Average Joe really does think both of the 2 things, at once. Maybe he does so inconsistently, or wrongly. Still, he does.

I think you essentially have two choices here. You can take the road less traveled, fully bite the "death is bad" bullet, and be an anti-deathist. Or, you can do what most do, and be like average Joe.

But if you are doing what average Joe does, and you go on to say things like...

being in favour of people being killed [is the] most evil thing anyone could ever possibly believe

...then you have some explaining to do. You have to spell out what it is this means, if it doesn't just mean full anti-deathism. Which is kinda what it sounds like.

A lot of things "kinda sound like" full anti-deathism. That view is very amenable to being phrased in terms that make it sound utterly obvious.

But we can't let this lull us into thinking that -- because anti-deathism sounds obvious, and average Joe often believes things that sound obvious -- that average Joe believes in anti-deathism. Somehow, despite all that obviousness, he just doesn't.

Somehow, despite all that obviousness, anti-deathism is a fringe position. And if we're not on the fringe, then we have to spell out just what it is that we believe instead.

Now OK, let's be real. You didn't say "being in favour of death" was the evil thing. What you wrote was "people being killed," not "people dying."

And that's what makes the distinction to you, right? I imagine? That it's bad news when some entity actively kills a person, that goes beyond the badness of death per se?

----

That does sound pretty intuitive! But what exactly is it that makes killing worse, here?

I didn't answer that question, in my post. I answered a bunch of other questions, instead. There are still more questions, which no one has asked me, but which I kind of feel I ought to answer, when talking about this topic. Nonetheless, I have to stop myself at some point, or I'll never do anything else. Hence these kinds of glaring lacunae.

I won't answer it here, either, in full. I have some other things to do today, and this is no longer just explicating what I meant earlier, this is new stuff. I'll just make some gestures, now, towards the kind of answer that would make sense of how I treated the topic in my earlier post.

----

So, there are some pretty obvious answers to "why is killing especially bad?"

Say, that it reflects poorly on the killer: an AI that would kill us all is probably an AI that's just plain bad morally.

Or, that we have a norm against it. It's a part of our ethics, the stuff we agree on as part of the social contract.

But you know what we don't have a norm against? If we're average Joe, and not on the fringe?

Killing chickens.

Or torturing chickens, and then killing them. Or breeding lots of them, specifically to be tortured, and then killed.

Sorry for the sudden swerve into vegan talking points! But this is kind of a big deal.

I've heard this cited, multiple times, by doomer types as a motivating case for being worried about how superintelligent AIs might treat us.

Just look at how we treat creatures that can very evidently feel pain -- but just happen to be different from us, not constituted the way we are, and in particular much less smart than we are!

And I, personally, find this argument pretty motivating. This is one of those arguments where even I have to hand it to the doomers.

But once we've allowed this much, we are in danger of conceding some really wild shit, if we don't tread carefully. Maybe we even should concede the wild shit, in the last analysis. Still, we should tread carefully.

Say you take the chicken argument seriously.

You've conceded that human values contain some really fucked-up things about how to treat other, dumber, "more primitive" beings. Beings of the kind that prevailed before the new, "super"-intelligent, sparkly, world-dominating species stepped onto the scene and changed everything.

You've conceded that humans are basically misaligned AIs, of the evil killeveryone Torment Nexus sort.

Remember, that was the whole substance of the argument: to make such awful AIs seem more plausible, by pointing out that such a thing already exists. Namely, us.

But now, what standing do we have to object to the AIs, without it rebounding back on us? Must we oppose ourselves just as fervently as we oppose the evil AIs, for the same reason?

"An AI that kills all humans" sounds pretty bad. Sounds like an evil thing, that we would not want to exist. But by the same token, we're evil, and we shouldn't exist.

(We might have wiped out chickens, if they weren't so tasty. There are plenty of non-tasty things which we did, in fact, wipe out. I and the doomers focus on chickens and the like, here, because what we did them is arguably even worse.)

Would we really accept an AI that's only "aligned with human values," and treats us about as well as we treat other beings when we are placed in an analogous scenario? Or do we hold AI to a higher standard -- one we can't possibly apply to ourselves, for that way lies madness?

Well, I don't know. These are tough questions.

But I would like to leave open some room to imagine, at least, that the advent of humanity was not (or not only) a catastrophe. That it was not, in fact, "the most evil thing possible."

Despite all the evil that we do, I'd like to imagine that.

And I'd like to imagine that, if there is such a thing as "human values," it contains this affirmation of the value of the advent of humanity.

And the value of things like the advent of humanity.

And the golden rule, and the rule of law. Which means, among other things: not holding you to a higher standard than I hold myself.

Even though the apparent implications of this are pretty nasty.

Philosophy is like that. Often you are between a rock and a hard place. Saying "that's a rock, don't you know that rocks cannot be walked through??" in an alarmed tone does not really get at the heart of the dilemma, or point the way to a solution.

----

All else being equal, of course, I would prefer not to be killed.

So would the chickens, I imagine.

We must not pretend there are easy answers, when there aren't.

[risuola]

IV — MY LOVE // F. READER x TOBIRAMA SENJU

It's not often that you and Tobirama go on dates together. This one brought you even closer, when in the golden hues of sunset, Tobirama realized his feelings towards you.

contents: fluff — 2,8k words

POLITICALLY LOVELESS || SERIES MASTERLIST

Showered and clothed cleanly you left your house before 8pm. To the hokage office you had just few minutes of slow walk, so you took your time and even engaged in few conversations with villagers along the way, one of which absorbed you more than it should. An older lady, late in her seventies asked for your help in closing her shop for the day. It’s usually her son that helps her carry the heavy boxes, but that day he couldn’t so you obviously agreed. For you it was nothing and for her, your help was everything as she couldn’t do this by herself even if she tried.

“You’re a gift to this village, y/n-chan,” she said to you, helping as much as she could, even though you advised her to just wait for you to move everything. The woman insisted to be useful, so you allowed her to carry the lightest of things.

“I’m always happy to help,” you smiled at her.

“I’m taking your time, I’m sorry,” granny lowered her head but you took her hands into yours, placing a soft kiss on top of them.

“Please, don’t be sorry. I find joy in helping, don’t feel guilty. My time is yours if you need me.”

“I’m so thankful.”

Although Tobirama tried to focus on his work, he couldn’t fully do that. Not when you called him love, not when the taste of your lips still lingered on top of his and definitely not when he was already thinking about the date you’ve been set to at evening. He had to force himself to think of politics, not the feeling of your body pressed against his and he found it exceptionally hard this time. What an effect you had on him, it’s unbelievable how easily you molded him in the warmth of your hands into something he never expected himself to be. What’s even more surprising, he really, truly loved the change; deep in his heart that for years he thought is frozen, young Senju couldn’t be more thankful for everything you’ve done to him.

He left the tower earlier than he said he would, so he moved forward to meet you half way only to fall in love with you once more, when he saw the scene in the village. You were carrying boxes for an elderly woman, too heavy for her to lift safely. Chatting joyfully, you stopped the service only to grab the woman’s hands, preventing her from bowing before you and as you pressed your lips to her worked up knuckles, the Senju felt like he didn’t deserve you. Pacing up a little, he joined you quickly, taking the box from your hands. “Let me finish this.”

There wasn’t much left, just few more so you allowed without argue.

“Please don’t bow,” you joined the elder that bent in half despite the pain in her back that she made obvious before. At her age everything hurt, and you felt bad for her. “Be careful of your back. I noticed it hurts you.”

“It’s just age, my child,” she responded, looking up at you and you lowered yourself as she reached to cup your face. “Please, don’t let the world change you, and you, Lord Senju,” she addressed your husband that joined after finishing the boxes, “you cherish that treasure with all of your might.”

“I will,” Tobirama responded, and you chuckled. “Do you need help with anything else?”

“No, you both have done a lot, it means the world to me as I thought I’d need to stay the night here and watch over those boxes. Now I can lock and go home.” She thanked many more times and you reassured her just as much that none of that is needed. Making sure she truly didn’t need anything more, you finally looked up to your husband.

“Was I late? I’m sorry, I lost control of time.”

“No, I finished a little earlier,” he pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. With a kiss planted on his hand you two moved forward. "I'm so proud of having you by my side," Tobirama confessed, whilst you two were enjoying the riverside walk. In the golden hues of sun setting, he couldn't help but admire your features. "You might be the best thing that happened to this village and you definitely are the best thing that happened to me."

Soft smile bloomed on your face, as you looked up to see him. "And you deserve everything what's good in the world, Tobirama. You're just too stubborn to acknowledge what a wonderful human being you are."

Your husband scoffed, silently and yet openly disagreeing with every word you spoke.

"I'm not sure if I will ever deserve you."

"As I said," you chuckled, taking his hand and kissing his knuckle, "so stubborn. But you seem to turn a blind eye to everything what's wrong in me and that's unlikely of you, my love."

"There's nothing wrong in you that would alarm me enough to analyze it and there's so much good I wonder how all of that fits in your frame," he said, already wandering away in his mind.

Your love. Once more, you used those words to address him; once more you filled him with hope for something, he wouldn't dare to expect from you. He could never expect you to love him. Not when you were stripped off your own choice, your own happiness and love whilst being given up to political marriage with a man you had never seen before. You had no word in what you were pushed upon, you were presented on a silver tray to someone that your father found beneficial to his own businesses. Tobirama couldn't expect you to fall in love with him, when most of the time you are alone in home. But he wished.

"You know, I'm grateful for what happened to me," you draw his attention back to you, as you stopped by the edge and glanced over the calm waters. What you said surprised him, it’s like you heard his thoughts. "My whole life I was caged like a golden bird. My father held an iron, controlling grip over me, forcing me into behaviors he deemed appropriate. Truth is, the only thing that stopped him from marrying me off so much younger was my bad character. That's how I like to call it," you laughed quietly. "When he presented me with the news of a Lord from another village that agreed to take me as a wife, at first I felt nothing. Then it was happiness. The marriage with you meant an escape from the world that put me in chains. You gave me back freedom, gave me a place to love, people that appreciate me for who I am without fake respect that I experienced in Yu, being the so-called princess. I became free here."

Tobirama hummed, taking in your words, sensing nothing but sincerity. Everything you said made sense to him. He had seen your father only few times after the wedding ceremony, but every time was just as uncomfortable as the first one. The clash of two drastically different traditions was unbearable.

"And you know, those things really don’t matter that much but there was a chance I would be given up to a feudal lord from Iwa gakure and as far as I know, he’s at least fifty.” And overweight. And disgustingly perverse. But those things, you kept to yourself. “It truly didn't bother me that it was arranged and was set to be loveless. I knew it was a duty for you, a political agreement just as it was for Yugakure. When I saw you the first time in that forest, when you took the blindfold off my eyes, I felt relieved. It's like you finally allowed me to breathe."

"Do you still consider it strictly political and emotionless?" he asked, watching you carefully from above, searching for hints as of what do you feel. You smiled softly, your eyes following a little fish that shimmered under the water surface, swirling it's red-tinted tail.

"Do you truly not know the answer to that or do you just want to hear it?" you asked, sounding as light as if he asked you about something trivial like weather.

"I'm conflicted when it comes to finding the answer."

"I guess your incredible analytical skill doesn't apply to emotions, huh?" Joking, you dipped your fingers in the water, stirring its surface just as if you were trying to engage in a dance with those golden creatures swimming around you and somehow, it didn’t scare them away.

"At first I hoped just for unison, but you seemed so unachievable. I thought it's impossible to break through the cold walls you built around yourself. You make quite an impression at the first sight."

"I'm aware," Tobirama chuckled, observing you. Everything you did was fueled by the pureness of your heart and it was far from forced. "But you're stubborn."

It was heartwarming to think how much you've worked to pull him out of the protective shell as you were breaking in, ripping it piece by piece with every smile you gave him, every innocent touch and every kind word. You never gave up, even when he was indifferent to your efforts. Tobirama could never forget the wedding night, during which he escorted you safely to the bedroom that he thought will be yours, he wished you good night and left you to rest after the ceremony. It’s like the roles have been played and behind closed doors, there was no need to act it further. Nothing happen, the marriage was not consumed that night, and he was grateful for that. Many moons after, when you two got close enough to get intimate, it tasted much better.

"I was told I am, yes," you chuckled and got up, drying your hand on your clothes and looking up, straight into his eyes. "But I'm not acting towards you the way I am because that is my duty as a wife. I'm not acting towards anybody the way I am because that's what's expected of me. I love the village you and your brother founded and I love you dearly."

Tobirama stayed quiet for longer than he would expect, looking into your eyes, searching for anything what would say different than what your mouth delivered but he found nothing but sincerity. The soft feeling of your palm against his cheek sent shivers down his spine, and whilst you smoothed your thumb over his lips, he grabbed your hand gently and pressed a kiss onto it.

"You truly mean it," he breathed out, feeling his insides bubbling in excitement. "Am I dreaming?"

"Well, you do have exuberant imagination, my love, but I don't think that even the wildest dreams of yours would consist of me."

Tobirama chuckled at the truth he was hearing. You got to know him so well in such a short time. If he was to dream about his marriage before he met you, he would imagine it to be peaceful but cold. His own mind couldn't think of any affection towards himself or his wife, like his body knew it's incapable of it. He would wish for getting up before his wife, preferably sleeping in separate beds and then getting back to have a little talk if necessarily needed, then resting in quiet. He would wish his wife to stand up to the challenge of cherishing Konoha but not bother him too much. Mito would be a role model for that, as he was quietly looking up to his brother. The Uzumaki was cold and reserved when she first came to the village, she was representing the values correctly and respected Hashirama as her husband, but at first, they were just co-workers on the issue. It wasn't surprising for them to develop feelings. The oldest Senju had a heart made of gold and it was just a matter of time that they'll get closer, but Tobirama wasn't even close that. He wasn't warm and bright, he wasn't so openly inviting and first and foremost, he wasn't stupid to wish for love when he's so emotionally unavailable. But then you happened and he began wishing for things he wouldn't dare to wish for before. He began longing for every touch you had given him, for every smile he was responsible for, he even caught himself thinking about many long nights that you two spent not sleeping.  

Saying nothing more, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, surprising even you with the public display of affection. It wasn't news that Tobirama wasn't exactly the best in showing his love, but with you he felt comfortable. You gave him time and freedom to express himself how he felt acceptable and now you felt thrilled to the bone that he went for a kiss in a place where everyone could see you. It was short and followed by another peck on your forehead before he pulled you into his arms, caging you in safe embrace of his strong arms and his fresh scent.

"I-" he began but words stuck in his throat, his heart racing underneath your ear.

"I know, my love," you cooed softly, smiling. "I don't need to hear it in order to feel it."

He exhaled, unaware of how he held his breath for few moments. You were so good to him, so understanding.

"I don't know what I'd do if I'd lose you."

"Good thing I'm not going anywhere."

"Public displays of affection? Who are you and what have you done to my brother?" Familiar voice came from the side, breaking the moment and you chuckled at the wave of tension that washed over your husband's body just for a second before he relaxed once again.

"Am I not allowed to caress my wife?" Tobirama asked, slowly letting go of your silhouette to greet his brother.

"Oh, you absolutely can and should," Hashirama giggled, welcoming you as well whilst you gave him a nod. "I can't count how often I hear about your wife making someone's life better."

"I like to help," you giggled.

"I'm glad. Tobirama, I have a notice for you. Well, it's regarding both of you, so I decided the sooner you get it, the better."

Handing the letter to his brother, Hashirama gave him a second. Once your man opened the envelope and the paper inside, you tensed seeing the contents. You felt like your body had suddenly forgot to breathe, your airways clenched and you couldn't help but shiver.

"Your father has an issue to discuss with you and he wants you to pay him a visit," Tobirama read, pulling you closer to him. He sensed your uneasiness immediately, as he had learned already that your father is very specific person and by the way his request was formulated it was clear that he wanted you to come alone. Your dad is a smart man, aware of Tobirama's duties and not one of your meetings with him after marriage went smoothly. You were always distressed.

"Your wife is expected in Yugakure tomorrow evening, so it'll be the best if she leaves in the mid-day." Hashirama informed, knowing how problematic is the situation. He also had experienced the odd behaviors of your parent and empathized with you on the matter.

"I understand," you muttered quietly, feeling the living power exiting your body. It's not like you were afraid of your father, no. He had his own ways of taking care of you and he kept himself in order when you visited with Tobirama, but when him, or anyone from your village, caught you alone, then it all began. The constant insults, physical attacks, accusations. They all thought that your relationship with the Senju was meant to look different, that you shouldn't be so friendly with him, that you should serve him and not be equal. It was against everything Yu believed to be moral in relationships, with women in your village being servants to their husbands, always three steps behind, always with their heads low.

"Tobirama," hokage spoke, "I can take care of your duties in those days, you're free to join y/n."

"No, it's okay," you said, putting on a smile, "I can manage, I know your schedule, it's important."

It was a hard choice for you, but you couldn't expect Tobirama to not attend the negotiations that were meant to take place in Konoha in two days and take up to three. His brain was needed there, he was needed there more than by your side. If not for Tobirama’s intelligence, the village would be destabilized soon after its founding. He was the one who kept Hashirama in place, who made sure the finances are stable and everything works politically correctly. The oldest Senju was a perfect hokage – kind, strong, loving, but when it came to formalities, he was just too good and naïve, and your husband’s strict and logical approach was crucial.

"Are you sure?"

"100%."

[tmaismyhyperfixation]

A message for my fellow trans ppl <3

A few years ago, while trying to track down an old friend of my dad's, we realized she was trans. I was obviously ecstatic to find out that my dad had an old trans friend, who he thought was simply gay and in drag for their college years, because I thought he might finally try to understand how awful it can be sometimes. But, no, and he continued to call the old friend by her deadname and use he/him pronouns for her. When I told him that he should probably stop deadnaming her (he wasn't actually talking *to* her, as we have no idea what her phone number or address is, but he was talking *about* her) but when I mentioned the term, 'deadname' he laughed. It shocked me that he could so easily dismiss something we find so sacred in the trans community. I told him, 'yes, its called a deadname, because the person who used to use it is dead.' He simply dismissed me. I felt so violated, but it was one of the first times I realized just how disconnected cis, and many sexuality-wise queer ppl are from the trans experience. My parents strongly believe trans women are ugly and rapists. Which is not only a disgusting opinion, but shows just how little they know. In the trans community, we hold each other's hands and hearts, both of which have been peeled of their outer skins, and have had their nerves pinched and prodded. We caress the wounds of our siblings, avoiding the abused nerves, spreading love on their scarred flesh. No cis person can relate to that feeling, of being completely unknown by those around you, but finding someone who can know exactly what you are feeling with just a look. When a trans person stares down at their own chest, we know exactly what they are feeling, down to the marrow in their bones. But a cis person might simply think they are checking for stains, or at the most, register that the person is uncomfortable.

No matter how much we teach the cis community, they will never completely understand what dysphoria is like. However, we can still accept the small victories. If an opportunity where you are able to educate ever arises, please take it. Together, we will create a new world. One where not so many of our siblings are killed by themselves or others. Remember, there will always be the community to come back to, no matter how bad it gets. TRANS PPL ARE BEATIFUL. Period. Remember that. Please. We are an endangered group fighting for our lives, but we are always beautiful. Every act of loving yourself is a piece of the revolution. Stay alive. Having you here is more important than ever. STAY SAFE <333

[1d1195]

Protection II

This is mostly the getting to know the reader and part. I hope you enjoy. 7.5k+

This is where I'll put the rest of the series: Protection

P.S. Sorry, I have some bad daddy issues that are going to be addressed in this series.

“Okay,” she nodded in promise. “Thank you,” she said seriously. She honestly hoped he sensed the authenticity of her gratitude. Harry was the first person to treat her like a human. Even if she gave him a hard time more often than not.

If she wasn’t careful, she was really going to fall in love with him.

There was just over three weeks between the end of her summer course and the fall semester. She planned on spending almost the entire time she wasn’t working either out in the sun reading or sleeping. Her final year was going to be difficult to say the least and she needed to be rested for the first days of the semester.

Her friends didn’t really chat with her during these weeks. She was used to it. Part of her believed they didn’t really want her to be around during their regularly scheduled class times either. It was why she fought so vehemently with her detail. There was so much drama surrounding her with just the presence of her security following her around.

The poor thing couldn’t sleep in all that much due to her constantly spinning mind and busy schedule with work and other obligations she put upon herself. Waking up at 8AM was about as late as she could stand it. At that time, and to beat the humidity, she hurried to shove her feet in sneakers and twist her hair up and off the back of her neck. She jogged a bit, stopping way more than she should have to walk at a clipped pace. Harry was warned of this and came prepared following behind her with so much ease. If weren’t for the heat, she was convinced he wouldn’t have broken a sweat. He didn’t speak to her while she listened to her music and didn’t make any comments about her need to walk so frequently, which she thought was kind. She imagined the rest of the detail thought she shouldn’t have had pizza on any regular schedule or said she was out of shape.

After a good head clearing, she would head back to shower and relax her muscles. It was the most calming time she had without any reminder of her detail’s presence. The one and only place they let her be alone completely. Coming back out to the living room she found Harry, ever present seated at his laptop situated on her dining table. Her hair was damp from being towel-dried and her skin felt fresh. She flopped onto the couch. Harry was silent, paying no focused attention to her. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him. Harry per usual, didn’t appear all that sweaty, but she couldn’t imagine having to sit in his sweat all day long while watching her and it was particularly hot and humid this morning. Especially when she had the luxury of hosing herself down. “Do you want to shower?” She asked.

He glanced at her. It wasn’t a terrible request. He hated to feel the thin sheen of sweat over his body—he didn’t think he smelled bad, but he thought he might smell like sweat. It seemed entirely unprofessional—it wasn’t covered in his training that he couldn’t shower at her apartment, but it seemed like something he should steer clear of. He could always call another agent while he headed back to his place—just ten minutes from hers. He could be back on the inside of an hour. “Uh...yeah, if y’don’t mind. I’ll jus’ call some—”

“You can shower here,” she shrugged setting up a playlist to play through her TV speaker. “I have more than one towel, obviously.”

Harry thought her sarcastic bite was funny and not dreadful like the rest of the team made it out to be. He smirked. “Uh...I don’t really want t’leave—”

She rolled her eyes and picked up her book. “I pinky promise, cross my heart, swear on my mother’s grave I won’t leave this apartment until you’re dressed and able to chase me efficiently,” she mumbled flipping to the bookmarked page. “Honestly might fall right back to sleep anyway,” she muttered. “Towels are in the linen closet,” her tone was dismissive. The ball was in Harry’s court.

Harry didn’t really want to piss her off; part of him thought that if she remained happy maybe she wouldn’t give him such a hard time. He wasn’t kidding when he told her he hated paperwork and despite how...different she seemed than the stories he heard, he wasn’t going to take his chances. Closing his laptop and he made his way by the couch toward the hall to the bathroom. He stopped in the threshold briefly and gazed at the girl snuggled on the couch who didn’t look like she’d be moving for hours. “Please,” he eyed her cautiously. “Don’t leave,” he said it gently, the slight begging tone in his voice.

She glanced up at his serious, pleading expression. Part of her forgot he was all but her enemy. His voice, his face, his body... he was so lovely. He was adorable. But she couldn’t let him know she thought that. She instead returned her gaze to her book, unable to comprehend the words fully in her brain to make sense due to the depth of green she was seeing in Harry’s eyes. She briefly pressed two fingers to her temple and saluted him without meeting his eyes. “Sure thing, boss.”

Harry still took the fastest shower he’d ever taken, still a bit worried about her leaving. However, when he returned to the main room, there she was reading. Snuggled up cutely on her sofa and listening to the gentle music playing as she did. She really wasn’t as bad as they made her out to be. Or maybe he just hadn’t really seen that side of her yet. But either way, he was glad she was kind for now.

*

“How’s it going?” Niall asked on Harry’s first day off in over a week. While they really didn’t speak a whole lot, he actually felt a little bad not seeing her. So much so, he left her a note saying to just text him if she needed something—and to not give the relief detail a too much of a fight.

“She’s not that bad,” Harry shrugged.

“No way,” Niall was in disbelief. He actually paused mid sip, spitting his drink back into the glass. “I can’t believe the close in age thing worked,” he shook his head. “I should have thought of this years ago.”

Harry shrugged again. “All she does is sleep,” it was true. She slept a good eight hours each day over the last week. In addition, he only glanced up from his computer when her book fell to the ground, and she was fast asleep in her mid-afternoon nap. Harry found his job quite cushy. Especially because he thought she was quite cute when she slept.

“She doesn’t escape?”

“If she did, she’s a lot better than anyone told me she would be. I’ve never noticed. So, I don’t think so. I caught her the first day trying t’sneak t’meet her friends at the pub. S’only because the detail outside saw her on the fire escape. Think they were honestly hazing me a bit,” he shrugged. “M’first day and all...but she hasn’t tried anything since.”

The surprise was still evident from Niall. “You like her?” He asked; he was incredulous.

Harry shrugged once more then nodded. “Yeah...she’s...fun,” he shrugged. “She’s really polite.”

“I don’t think anyone has ever said that about her.”

Harry found he was a bit irritated with his friend. Niall wasn’t one to talk poorly of someone else almost ever so his sudden remarks of the girl made him annoyed. So why was he so negative about her? “Have y’ever even met her, Niall?” Harry asked. The bite in his tone rivaled the one that she would give Harry.

He shook his head. “No, but I’ve seen the paperwork,” he whistled almost in appreciation. “She’s...”

“She’s actually really smart. Funny. Kind,” Harry interrupted.

Niall blinked surprised by Harry’s defense for the girl. “Sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to...I’m sorry. Just...you hear some stories.”

Harry tried to push the girl from his mind. Maybe it would be different when she was back in school. Maybe it wouldn’t. But regardless, he didn’t think it was very nice of the entire department to write her off. He focused on Niall and their lunch at a local restaurant.

His phone vibrated with a message from her. He waited until Niall was engrossed in the game on the screen above their table. Never thought I’d say this about one of my bodyguards...but I can’t wait for you to be back. These people are awful to me :(

It was hard to ignore the flutter of his heart. Treat them with kindness, love. He reminded her.

Feel like they should be kind to me first...

:( He sort of agreed with her. Even if she was a pain in his butt in her own special way, he didn’t think she deserved unkindness. It was about a half hour without a response message from her and Harry realized he was a bit...anxious waiting for her name to flash across the screen. It was dicey of him—it was also silly of him to expect a message in response to a frowny face. Maybe the deepest part of his subconscious knew before the rest of him that he shouldn’t be sending her messages for a very specific reason—especially ones regarding her hatred of the other members of her security detail.

Still...he was the only one she seemed to like...and he was The Department’s last hope.

I’ll be back tomorrow, love. He said finally. He wanted to chat with her more. Six days in a row with her and he was already aching for more time with her.

Thank God. Her answer was immediate. Followed by a second one. Can we get burritos?

Sure thing :)

*

She still drove him insane. She was practically mindless as she marched down the road ahead of him when she ran errands. Nearly stumbling into traffic. It was almost as if she had a death wish.

“For the love of God, would you jus’ tell me,” he snapped at her when she once more forgot to tell him where she was going...even if it was just to get the package she ordered from the main lobby but she left without a word. Caught him a bit off-guard as he jumped up from his typical seat at her dining table, rushing to catch her before she got too far.

Honestly, he couldn’t imagine telling all but a stranger his every movement. It had to be difficult for her. But it still pissed him off. Especially when she smirked at him when he snapped at her. Like a child in trouble who knew she was in trouble. It really infuriated him when she did that.

When she met with her friends, Harry sat by the bar nursing a glass of water. He flashed his credentials to the bartender who gave him a stiff nod, not worrying about his lack of alcohol or why he was intently watching the girl across the room. Harry had to strain to hear anything of importance but for the most part it was harmless.

Boys would come talk to her and Harry couldn’t help but think they were so out of their league. The confidence they exuded was hilariously misplaced, so he thought. She was pretty. Even if she was annoying. He couldn’t help but notice how nice she looked when she twirled her hair into a pretty style, or the way her lips seemed to shine with the gloss she put on but never seemed to come off even when she sipped her drink. Of course, she was intelligent, a biochemist didn’t get to this stage in her academic career without being intelligent.

The boys, however, had one thing on their mind (make that two things) when she wore a pretty blue top with jeans cropped at her ankle. Her hair was twirled to the side making her look like some casual Rapunzel and Harry wished he didn’t think like that. But he was thinking like that. Because despite how annoying she could be, she was really beautiful. Effortlessly, it seemed.

Harry never intervened when the boys chatted with her for way longer than they should have. They didn’t seem to have a clue who she was or that Harry was a mere ten meters away eyeing their every movement. Rarely did she dismiss any of them. Ever polite, which he found interesting. The more time he spent watching her, the more fascinated he became by her.

It was only when he heard them say they were into politics that her face immediately soured, and her attention returned to her drink. At that point, her girlfriend who was essentially a second bodyguard on Harry’s detail (especially when it came to guys) came to her rescue shooing the guy away and they’d find another bar to repeat the process all over again.

The two girls linked their arms while Harry walked several paces behind them. He didn’t eavesdrop on their conversation, but he did want to know what made her laugh so hard just because he hadn’t heard her careless laughter like that before. It made her seem so at ease. He wished she was like that all the time.

Right as they started to enter the next place, a boy snagged her about the waist. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked. She blinked in surprise and Harry settled against the wall one business down from her spot at the entrance of the bar. He never found the guys in her company malicious or harmful. They were dumb and drunk most often. “I’ve never seen you here before.”

She pulled from him giving her friend a knowing look. With a gentle smile she grinned at the guy. Harry felt something in his chest warm over. It made him...jealous.

Oh, that’s not good. He thought to himself. But he shoved the emotion to the side. He would deal with it later. He missed the introduction the guy gave so he didn’t get to hear his name. Which meant he would have to wrangle it out of her later when he did a background check on him. “Let me take you home,” he said.

“I’m with my friend,” she nodded toward the girl. The forwardness took her friend for a loop, she was hovering closer to Harry than she had been in the last few places.

“Tell her you’re leaving,” he shrugged.

Her smile was tight. Harry could see it from where he stood. He inched a bit closer toward her friend. Even she was looking on nervously. Harry was twitching to punch him already. Especially if he didn’t leave her alone. “No, thank you,” she said reaching for the door to get inside. He slapped it shut. This time, Harry saw the way she straightened. If she was dog or a cat, he imagined she would have raised hackles. Harry pressed a finger to his ear.

“Stand by,” he mumbled to the receiver attached to him. Despite the noise of the busy street, he could hear the distinct sound of one of the department registered SUV’s engine turning over.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he smiled. The alcohol must have made him more confident. She wasn’t having it.

“I said no,” she was firm. There wasn’t room for argument. Harry felt a bit...proud of how she confidently sized herself up against him. Of course, she had scared an entire division anywhere from ten to thirty years older than her. Surely, she could take on a guy her own age.

“At least give me a chance to turn it into a yes,” he said snagging her hand. She pulled it from his grip, turning toward her friend. She caught Harry’s eye as she did. He was now almost beside her friend, and he swore he saw a sparkle in her eye as if she had only just realized Harry was actually there.

“Baby, what are you doing here!?” She said excitedly, running toward Harry as if she truly had no idea, he was right there all this time. She threw herself against him, arms looping around his neck as she clung to him. Harry felt stunned, one arm wrapping back around her waist. Her exposed skin was warm despite the reminder it was the end of August and evening air was getting cool. But she was like holding the embodiment of summer in his arms.

This was definitely not part of his training. As an agent, he was typically observant and could usually predict different outcomes or make sense of the scene and situation around him. He could figure out what most people were going to do before they did it.

Her sudden stunt left him a bit dazed.

“Thought you didn’t get out of work till later,” she smiled up at him as she pulled away, batting her eyelashes at him. “Can you take us home?” She jutted out her lower lip gazing at him with...adoration? That couldn’t be right. Even if it was for show, she was good at it. Harry didn’t know she was capable of acting. Especially acting as if she was in love.

“Uh...yeah,” Harry cleared his throat. “Got out early,” he mumbled following her lead. He could hear the laughter in the earpiece as she wrapped her arm around his waist. She grabbed her friend’s hand, and they headed off the way they came.

“He’s staring at my ass,” she whispered to her friend. “I can feel it.”

“I mean it’s a nice ass,” she shrugged with a smile.

The girl kept hold of Harry and rolled her eyes. “Creepy,” but Harry didn’t miss how he felt her arm tighten around his waist. He would break the guy’s arm for her if she asked. Harry had the right mind to kill him just for being so forward and annoying to her. Not taking no for an answer the first time she said it. When they turned the corner, she released him immediately. Harry couldn’t help how he felt cold without her embrace. And he hated how easy it was to slip into the mindset that it felt good with her wrapped around him.

Fortunately, she and her friend took off running down the block for the next bar so Harry once more had to put that notion to the side.

*

Harry entered her apartment on September first surprised to find the array of pink peonies and carnations that had adorned her walls the last three weeks were replaced by sunflowers. It was…enlightening. To say the least. Harry wasn’t even in a bad mood, but he was overwhelmed with happiness as he settled his stuff onto the dining room table. “Do you do this every month?” He asked, making his way toward her. She was on a step stool, draping more sunflower vines along the walls.

“No,” she smirked. “I’ll keep these up until December first,” she explained. “I do add some Halloween colors in next month though...and then I take those down to put up leaves for November.”

He loved her place. It was as adorable as she was. Even if he shouldn’t think that way. He enjoyed coming to work. Even if she was going to make him crazy. The flowers were pretty. It made the place utterly welcoming. More of the side of the personality he never really heard about from The Department on display. “What do y’do for the winter?” He asked grabbing the vine that dangled out of her reach and helped her put it up. With her on the stepstool she was a head taller than Harry.

It was not the time to think such things. Plus, she had never thought anything about any of her security detail before of course, but obviously Harry was much closer in age to her than anyone else before him. She couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was and now she was eye level with him. He didn’t question her. Didn’t yell at her for balancing precariously on the step stool, he didn’t care that she had hundreds of flowers to put up. He followed her around the apartment all afternoon chatting with her about her interior design vision.

“I feel like I need something to balance out poinsettias though,” she shrugged as they moved to her bedroom. Harry helped her more and she accepted it, surprisingly. He listened to her rant and rave about flowers and didn’t seem to mind at all that he was being paid to decorate with her. “Most winter flowers are red,” she explained. “I like red, but it’s overwhelming, you know? I think winterberries are beautiful, but I love petals,” she continued.

“Well, what ‘bout snowdrop?” Harry asked.

She paused her movements, tilted her head at him. “I don’t know that one,” she admitted. He quickly reached for his phone, tapped it several times then handed it to her.

“These?” He suggested. The screen showed the pretty little white flowers, and she glanced back at Harry. “They’d look pretty with winterberry or poinsettias,” he murmured.

Harry liked flowers. How fascinating. She assumed, like most of the other agents before him, Harry probably knew every detail of her life. Maybe better than she did sometimes. But of course, Harry was quite tight-lipped. She knew some of his food and drink tastes, but she didn’t know much about his home life, why he came to America, or how he ended up on her detail.

But he liked flowers enough to know the names of them. Enough to show an interest in something she cared about. Even if it was just a bunch of wall décor. Handing the phone back to him, she smirked at him. “I think I’ll order some fake ones on Amazon. Thank you,” she smiled.

Harry smiled back at her. “Happy t’help,” he mumbled and held his hand out for her to get off the step stool. “Any plans for today?”

Her plan was to torture Harry now that they were in single digit days until classes restarted. But his kindness ruined that. She sort of hated that he was so nice to her even when she was a bitch. He was really ruining all the hard work she put into terrifying a division of special agents. “Just work and movies probably.”

He nodded. “Sure, I’ll be here,” he smirked and found his seat at the dining table.

“You could sit over here if you want. That chair can’t be comfy all day,” she said.

He shrugged. “S’not bad,” he said gathering his stuff and moving to the opposite sofa she was on. He settled in as she scrolled through different titles on Netflix.

“Do you have any recommendations?” She asked. “I suck at picking movies.”

“I can recommend a rom-com if s’your thing,” he shrugged. “I haven’t watched it yet. Someone else recommended it t'me.”

She adored the idea that her intimidating, closed-lipped bodyguard liked rom-coms. She put it on immediately. If it was formulaic, she didn’t care. She liked knowing what to expect. Watching a movie with Harry was also relaxing. The first time neither of them spoke or acted tensely about her whereabouts. They both chuckled at the same time at different parts and pointed out funny things to rewind ten seconds that the other had missed in the background.

Of all the time she had spent with her bodyguards over the last seven years, this was one of the best afternoons she ever had.

*

The worst of his job started about a week after her classes started. She was out with friends and Harry deemed the drunk college men harmless and gave her more space at the bar where she and her friends danced.

He could see where Niall was coming from, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she was getting to him. Harry was a bit competitive and didn’t want The Department to know he was feeling bested by her too.

But he couldn’t help but be annoyed that it happened much more frequently throughout the month of September and October, becoming routine. Monday through Thursday and Sunday she spent in class, studying, or working in her sitting room and still somehow managing to get one of her jogs in before sunset almost daily. Fridays and Saturdays were spent all but torturing Harry. He had to be much more ready for her attempted escapes.

The first weekend that her classes started, she literally climbed out the bathroom window of the bar. The only reason he caught her was because one of the loudmouth guys she was with was watching a video her friend had sent of her crawling out the window and he was laughing at the hysterics of it. When Harry caught up to her at the corner of the road, she hurled several insults at him that he hadn’t once heard fall from her lips.

“I’m a grown fucking woman,” she snapped. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“S’protocol,” he shrugged. Even if he liked her, he was there to do a job.

The time after that, she simply tried outrunning him, but his legs allowed for much longer strides than her, so she didn’t get too far from him. That time she threw her shoe at him, narrowly avoiding his head. She limped awkwardly to the SUV where she sulked. Harry picked up her shoe and placed it at her feet before he drove her back to her place, where she slammed the door to her room but didn’t come back out once. Since he caught her that time, no paperwork was required.

The following week she was making out with someone in the bathroom hallway and while the idea was disgusting because she deserved far better accommodations than a bathroom hall in a messy bar in a college town, this wasn’t even that bad as far as his job went. But it did make his chest hot with jealousy.

So, he let her make out with the stupid guy while he drank his water at the bar.

The next time she hopped into a car with a stranger. Fortunately, her friend was with her so Harry didn’t worry about her well-being too much. But once he followed her to his place of residence she screamed some more while Harry just watched her have her temper tantrum. Her friend seemed entirely used to these outbursts. She ushered the guys they had met upstairs while she slunk back to the SUV once more. Grumbling and cursing at Harry under her breath.

That event required a huge, detailed report and a grumbly talking to from one of the higher ups. It made Harry irritable but found it hard to stay completely mad at her because she made brownies the following day and told him to help himself—like a peace offering.

Despite the insults and the cursing, Harry would attend meetings and debriefings where they would ask Harry if he wanted out. “Would you like to be reassigned?” They sounded tired. Like they were already anticipating who they would get to replace him.

“Did she ask for someone new?” He asked.

His supervisory blinked at him. “No...but...don’t you want out? It’s been almost a month and a half.”

He frowned. “Er...with all do respect. If she doesn’t mind me, then I’ll stay.”

Harry wasn’t going to back down from a challenge.

*

The worst however was her escape from the concert. There were simply too many variables. Even with a team of ten, Harry still felt outnumbered by her and her friend. To be fair, they told Harry ahead of the concert it was a lost cause. There was no way she wouldn’t escape. It was her best chance.

She was getting ready for the night in her bathroom. Harry was vigilant as ever in the dining area.  She came out to the living room to check on her phone charging on the side table. She looked comfy and adorable. Jeans, converse, a tanktop that fit loosely so it showed off...her assets in a tasteful way. Harry thought she was pretty as always. “Y’look nice,” he mumbled.

She glanced at him curiously and her cheeks warmed at his compliment. “Thank you,” she responded kindly. He closed his laptop and he sighed.

“Look,” he said. Immediately, her kindness disappeared from her face.

“Harry,” she sighed not feeling like fighting.

“I know you’re going to escape,” he told her. “Whatever, s’jus’ more paperwork, right?” He asked with a weak smile. She frowned knowing that he already anticipated her idea for the night. “Please,” he said. “Can y’jus’ send me your location?” He pleaded. “Please," he repeated. "I won’t tell anyone, I won’t make it a big deal. I...jus’ want t’know you’re safe,” he explained. Biting the inside of her cheek she opened her message thread with Harry looking away from his intense gaze. She shared her location for the next twenty-four hours with him. “Thank you,” he said appreciatively getting the alert on his phone. “If y’get into trouble or y’feel unsafe, please jus’ call,” he continued. “I won’t make a big deal of that either.”

He seemed so genuine. Like he really cared about her safety beyond the protocol of his job.

“Okay,” she nodded in promise. “Thank you,” she said seriously. She honestly hoped he sensed the authenticity of her gratitude. Harry was the first person to treat her like a human. Even if she gave him a hard time more often than not.

If she wasn’t careful, she was really going to fall in love with him.

*

It was a shame that her willingness to help Harry out didn’t pan out the way he hoped. When the concert had ended, he thought he had actually done a good job. He kept an eye on her little marker the entire time; she was in place at her seat the duration of the concert. He even got to enjoy a bit of the indie band she was seeing—he heard her play the music on while she worked or read but never really noticed how much he actually liked it. They even put on a good show.

But when most had filed out of her section, he came to the conclusion that she was no longer present. With a groan he headed down to her section, finding not a trace of her behind. But her phone still said she was here. He started searching beneath the seats, dodging sticky soda and alcohol along with popcorn strewn about.

He found an array of jewelry and a condom packet. He even found a wallet that he would bring by to lost and found. But it was her phone that he found that made his body warm with more rage. The flower phone case he was used to seeing around her apartment mocked him. She tricked him. After all that.

The idea of paperwork didn’t compare to the hurt he felt over her betraying deceit.

*

She was enjoying a drink with her friends at one of their favorite spots. For the first time in months, she felt so carefree. They were discussing their latest exams and how nice the concert was. A round of drinks sat empty in front of them while they sipped on the second. Harry was giving her ample space. But that should have been her first clue.

Her arm was yanked out of the booth, and she nearly lost her footing as Harry grabbed onto her but continued to hold her upright.

“Are you fucking serious?” He snapped. Everyone turned to look at him. She scrambled to stand upright. She was ready to scream at him for tugging her out of the booth like that. In front of all her friends. Everyone was silent as she opened her mouth to yell. But then she saw it.

Harry was pissed.

Instantly, she wavered. Her face contorting from anger to worry, sadness. She looked upset. Remorseful even. “Harry,” she started.

“I don’t know what your problem is with me—”

“I didn’t—”

“—but I didn’t do anything t’warrant this!” He shouted, holding her phone up. She instinctively felt for her pocket and realized her mistake. Oh...he was going to kill her.

But still, he was currently embarrassing her.

She wanted to scream right back at him. But she knew he was mad. She knew why he was mad. He asked for hardly anything at all tonight—knowing she was going to leave. It was kind of him to give her so much grace and freedom when no one on that team had ever done so. Even though she left without a word, she truly thought her phone was in her bag. She hadn’t even thought to look for it because she never lost her phone.

“I know y’think s’a big joke. But I take m’job seriously. I take protocol seriously. Jus’ because you want t’pout and cry like a bratty little girl, doesn’t mean y’going t’ruin my life. My career.”

Her eyes narrowed. She hated to be yelled at. Belittled. It made her extremely angry. Regardless of how much she actually liked him. Despite the fact she felt bad she accidentally betrayed his trust. But he was embarrassing her in front of friends and calling her names that everyone else in the department used daily, pissed her off beyond belief.

She glared at him, set her jaw firmly. She could feel frustrated tears lining her vision and she grabbed her purse out of the booth violently. She made no eye contact with the group of her silent friends. She marched right outside to the SUV he had double-parked. Slamming the door shut behind her, she waited until Harry was in the car as well.

“I didn’t know I didn’t have it,” she seethed.

He scoffed. “Bullshit.”

She closed her eyes tightly. So tightly she saw red dancing in her vision. “Believe what you want. I didn’t know,” she snapped. “You were so embarrassing in there. I’m sorry I pissed you off. Again, I really didn’t mean it. But you didn’t have to embarrass me in front of my friends like that.”

“If you’re going to act like a brat—”

She shook her head slowly balling her fists in her lap. “If you call me a brat one more time, I’m going to punch you in the throat,” it was a promise. Harry didn’t think she would cause all that much damage, but he didn’t think it would be wise to take a punch to the throat while he was driving her.

They were silent for five minutes while he drove her back to her place. “You really didn’t know?” He asked, his voice a hair softer.

She glared out the window with a silent shake of her head. “M’sorry,” she murmured.

He sighed and listened to the sound of the tires thrumming against the road for a bit.

“M’sorry I called y’a brat in front of your friends... Can y’please...try t’be...I don’t know...good for me? I like t’think m’not that bad of a guy. M’not that bad at m’job...that I give y’enough space...that we’re...okay.”

More silence until they parked. “You’re the best bodyguard I ever had,” she admitted quietly. “I didn’t mean to do that to you.”

He nodded. “Okay...I accept your apology. Can y’try t’be more mindful?”

She nodded in return. “I’ll try.”

“Call me next time, okay?”

“I don’t know your phone number,” she rolled her eyes.

“Well memorize it,” he sighed a touch of agitation in his tone. She should memorize it for emergencies. “And y’need a failsafe.”

“A what?”

“A failsafe. Assurance that if everything goes—”

“I know what a failsafe is, you ass. What do you mean I need one?”

He ignored her name calling. She deserved one after he called her a brat. “If...something happens t’you. Y’need a way t’get in touch with me. But something that no one else knows. Not even me. But s’got t’be easy enough for me t’figure out. We can go over some of them if y’want that others have used in the past so y’have some ideas t’work with,” he tapped on the steering wheel. “I know I said this was a job, but I do actually care about y’safety.”

She was silent for a few more moments. “If you yell at me like that in front of everyone again, I’ll kill you,” she promised opening her door to head back up to her apartment. He smirked.

“Maybe y’don’t need a failsafe; I pity the person that tries t’take you on.”

*

As frustrating as she could be, she was equally, if not more, lovely in that it made him forget all the paperwork and all the annoyance she caused him. They were on a Target run; she was wandering the aisles casually meandering at her leisure. Harry was eyeing her surroundings, assuring himself there was nothing that would put her in danger.

Honestly, some days he could see why she didn’t want a detail. She didn’t do anything that warranted protection and it didn’t seem like anyone was after her. Not once had he heard from or met with The Secretary of State. While he was grateful for a cushy job, he could see why she was always grumpy about it.

She was scanning new book titles on the shelf and placed two of them in her basket when she suddenly took off without warning. Harry followed after her, caught off guard by her quick pace mildly irritated him once more she evaded him. What he expected of her was never what happened.

She entered the dressing room area, making Harry more irritated that he couldn’t follow her immediately into the women’s section. He wanted to know what he missed, that had her running through the dressing room so fast that she dropped her basket full of mismatching items outside as she hurried back out almost as quickly as she went in.

“You didn’t see her, did you?” She asked Harry before he could ask her what the problem was.

He grabbed her basket that she left behind as she took off once more. He followed after her as she hurried through the other sections of the store.

“See who?” He asked almost running to keep up with her alert pace.

“Seriously?” She asked behind her. “You didn’t hear the frantic mother looking for her child? Aren’t you supposed to be watching for these things?”

He felt his mouth twitch to snap back at her, but she looked genuinely alarmed. Almost as alarmed as the employees in red shirts running around almost as quickly as she was. Despite the sympathetic pang he felt for the upset woman calling a little girl’s name out around the aisles, it wasn’t their problem. It especially wasn’t Harry’s problem who was assigned to watch the 24-year-old—so no, he didn’t really pay attention to the worry in the department store.

“M’sure she’s fine, love,” Harry said trying to assuage her worries. He felt bad, she was so worried. He even felt...awe for her. Her . But she wasn’t giving up it seemed, as she made a quick stop through the clearance section nearly causing Harry to twist an ankle at her sudden turn. She didn’t respond to Harry’s calming voice.

“Someone could have just walked off with her,” she remarked nervously.

Harry could see the fierceness in her eyes. She was resolute: they weren’t leaving the store until this girl was found. Sighing, Harry kept one eye on the girl he was paid to follow and another on the lookout for a small little one that was probably terrified.

Harry tried to tell her something about hideouts and the like, but it was unhelpful. They gleaned they were looking for an eight-year-old. “We’re not thinking like eight-year-olds,” she muttered suddenly and nearly left Harry in the dust as she all but sprinted toward the back of the store once more.

Harry found her crouched in the middle of the aisle, talking to the Halloween costumes on a rack. “Hey, cutie pie, whatcha looking for?” Her voice was soft and gentle.

“I lost my mommy,” the little voice whispered from the rack.

Harry found himself sighing with relief dropping her basket of things by her side. The little girl looked up at Harry suspiciously. She was hidden behind a dog costume and the tule of a tutu beside it. “That’s really scary,” the girl nodded. “I hate losing my mommy,” she said. The little one was still staring at Harry with nervousness.

“This is Harry,” she told her. “He’s tall, huh?” She smiled gently. “Can we help you find your mommy?”

“Mommy said no strangers,” she shook her head pressing herself firmly against the rack, her eyes watery. “I’m scared.”

The girl nodded, sitting on the floor, cross-legged. “Well, I think that’s really smart of you. Mommy would be really proud of you,” she had a comforting smile on her lips. “How about we stay here, and Harry will go get your mommy?”

Harry looked disgruntled as he made a noise in the back of his throat. He couldn’t leave her alone...even for the sake of a child. Even if they were just in a target. “Love,” he started.

She turned her head to Harry. “They are running around the store just to find someone,” she hissed under her breath before turning her gentle façade back to the little girl. “Whatcha got there?” She asked. “Halloween book?” She wondered.

The little one nodded, stepping cautiously off the display of costumes. Tentatively, she sat next to the woman that drove Harry up a wall most days. But right now, she was so gentle, so sweet. Harry felt nothing but pure adoration for her and her kindness to the little one. “Please?” She asked, turning back to Harry as the little one opened the book up and started showing her the pictures in the middle of the floor. Her expression was kind, warm, pleading.

Begrudgingly, Harry headed toward the front of the store in search of the terrified mother.

*

There was a bit of fanfare—especially after realization of who the woman was that found the little one and was reading a picture book on the dusty store floor. She paid no mind to it, said it was her pleasure to help.

After paying for her things, Harry opened the door for her to the SUV and she climbed inside. He felt a bit awestruck. Sure, she was the daughter of a top political official, but that fame didn’t really mean anything to Harry. He was more impressed with her gentle nature. Her kindness. She was cute with kids and had a fiercely protective streak of her own.

She didn’t even mention it; moreover, thought nothing of it, just scrolled through her phone. “Can we get coffee?” She asked.

He thought she might be his hero. Pain in the ass she was. “Course, love,” he murmured. Heroes needed a reward for their efforts. Even if they didn’t see it that way. “You drink an awful lot of coffee.”

“Biochemistry will do that to you,” she muttered, irritated by his remark. It clearly had been said to her before. Somehow, in that moment, Harry realized that she was also fiercely protective of herself. Maybe she had to be given how The Department talked about her behind her back. Maybe because everyone looked at her as if she didn’t know anything as a woman in a science major that Harry could hardly pronounce half the words for when he saw her notes on the coffee table.

“That was really cool of you,” he mumbled pulling into traffic toward the coffee shop. “The way y’helped that little girl.”

She turned to look at Harry. “She was scared,” she sounded defensive. Like Harry was mocking her.

“I know,” he said seriously. “Y’calmed her down and y’helped her. Was really nice,” he shrugged one shoulder hoping he sounded more sincere so she wouldn’t yell again.

She turned to the window. “I got lost at the store once with my dad,” she explained. “I was six. I was terrified. He didn’t even know I was lost until he drove home,” she mumbled. “It was the most terrified I’ve ever felt in my whole life.”

He pulled into the parking lot and she hurried out before Harry could say another word. He watched her intently as she stood in line, ordered, and returned with tea for Harry without even asking him if he wanted some. She was always very thoughtful toward him. Whether she annoyed him beyond belief or not.

For every moment of irritation, anxiety, and annoyance she had put him through thus far on this assignment, it all was swept clean as he thought about what she said. Her dad asking for a protection detail made no sense. Who loses their six-year-old without noticing? Was the protection detail some deep-seated need to fix his mistake all those years ago? What kind of political official could hold office with a straight face knowing his daughter had that kind of dirt on him? How could she not shout it from rooftops?

Harry was right. She had to be fiercely protective of herself because no one else was.

He hoped that eventually she would let him protect her just as much; maybe even stop her frustrating fleeing. Because despite the irritation she often caused, he was really starting to like the many sides of her.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

Protection taglist: @youcouldstartacult @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @luxiorchive @ameerakane20 @daphnesutton @kathb59 @be-with-me-so-happily

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

What do you see happening to Harry when the inevitable divorce happens? The kids will be in the US so he can't really move to the UK. Though he doesn't seem that attached to them considering how much he travels and is away from them. Would he be set up in the UK if he did return? What is there to be done with him? He can't return as an official working royal even if Charles refuses to remove him from the website. He obviously needs someone to babysit him so he can't just be let left alone. Would he just play polo until he's too old? I wonder if the BRF actually have a plan if he was to return because I can't think what they'd do with him.

Ask from August 3rd

There are three and a half options for Harry post-divorce if it should happen.

Option 1: if Meghan gets custody of the kids and keeps them in the US, he’ll stay in the US, probably remaining in the LA area or moving up to his corporate BetterUp apartment in San Francisco and commuting down to LA when it’s his custody time. There is a chance he could move to New York since the East Coast is more “old money” and he probably fits in better, society-wise, there (but I think it’s a very low chance). Harry will continue being the BetterUp mascot and travel all over the world playing polo and “running” Invictus Games. He’ll be like a Vince Vaughn/Jon Hamm-type character (perpetual bachelor, kinda dickish but without the charm), still very much living with PTSD, and the kind of weekend dad who’s all fun and games so Meghan/the nannies will always be the bad guys.

Harry will probably trauma-bond to the first woman that can get her claws in him and it’ll probably be another Meghan/Durek-type (holistic, new agey, controlling). I don’t think they’ll marry because Meghan will make their lives a living hell being that close. (But good news, Meghan will probably move her target from Kate to the new girlfriend.)

Option 1B: If by some miracle Harry gets out of California and moves someplace else in the US - like to NYC/northeast, Texas, or Jackson Hole, then he might not be as dickish and might actually level out from all the mental health trauma Meghan put him through. The risk is still high for him to be with a new agey/holistic woman but she’s probably be more of a Shannon Beador-type (from Real Housewives of Orange County; well-meaning but kinda nutty) than a charlatan grifter-type and I can see her influence being calmer and more stabilizing on Harry, perhaps even to the point that he stops the constant PR blitz and just lives his life. If this is what happens, then there’s a good chance that Charles and Eugenie could reach out and relations with the BRF thaw out to the point that Harry can see people when he goes to the UK for “work” instead of getting the door slammed in his face.

Option 2: If Harry gets custody of the kids or the kids go to a UK boarding school, he’ll go back to the UK and be welcomed back in on the family side. No royal work and no public engagements/appearances unless the entire BRF is there (eg, like the Platinum Jubilee service) or it’s exclusively a private family event (like the Easter and Christmas walks). King Charles will throw Harry a bone every once in a while by supporting Invictus Games. His mental health will be addressed and Harry will probably begin healing from all this trauma so he may not be dickish at all, just his usual entitled prince self which someone, probably younger and blonder, will eventually find charming and she’ll “take over” Harry for the BRF in return for a cushy paid-for life (allegedly this is what they offered Meghan but Meghan wasn’t aware of how bad Harry’s mental health was and kept demanding more and more money to stay).

Since it sounds like Harry is pivoting again to the Spencers, he’ll probably settle close to them near Althorp (otherwise King Charles will probably buy a lease for him at/around Highgrove House since William never goes there). Maybe Earl Spencer will take pity and give Harry a small cottage house on the Althorp estate (if there are any).

William might thaw out eventually but their relationship will never be the same and Harry won’t ever be back in the Waleses’ inner circle, and of course, it will depend on whether Harry continues all of his PR. (If Harry continues PR and continues using William for PR, there’s no thawing but if Harry shuts up and stops talking to press, he has a chance of William acknowledging he exists.)

Option 3: Harry moves to Africa or someplace else in the Commonwealth, regardless of custody rulings. Probably the best option for Harry. He just needs to get far, far away from the press, Meghan, and the BRF as possible, reset, and start over. King Charles will take care of/pay for everything. King William will probably continue supporting Harry in this case since it keeps him away from the UK but again, the issue is PR. If Harry stops talking to the press, then his chances with William are better. If he keeps talking to the press, he keeps running PR stories about olive branches or the good old days or wanting to come back, then nothing will change.

[liaa--qb]

This might sound overly dramatic, but I'm so sad and disappointed right now because of all those horrible leaks. I know they still might be false, but honestly I believe that save for some details, they are mostly true. There are few things that sadden me the most :

1. Helaemond not being canon. I know that this ship has been controversial, especially among TG, but it really had a lot of potential and was one of my favourite (still is). And I don't care what antis say, there were a lot of hints and undertones in s1 about helaemond, more than for Alicole and look, Alicole apparently becomes canon in the worst possible way. Which brings me to the second point -

2) Alicole being canon. Don't get me wrong. I like this pairing, but it would be much better and more in character if they never acted on their feelings. Not to mention that two sex scenes in ep 1 (if the leak is true) will seem too much and out of nowhere. And to include it in B&C scene with helaena walking in on them having sex right after Jaehaerys is brutally murdered is an atrocious writing decision. F*ck you Condal and whoever is responsible for this.

3) B&C made into a joke. According to the leaks, Helaena won't be given a choice, there will be some upsetting details about getting naked the children and so on..and to have her walk in on her mom having sex with a member of a kingsguard.. Again, f*ck you Condal.

4) Aemond and the brothel madame. Why would he go to the same woman who SAed him when he was 13? And he obviously felt uncomfortable around her in ep 9. And to make him cry while naked in fetal position...I also read on reddit that they will include a mommy kink with breast sucking and whatnot... but this seems way too much and is probably someone's shitty headcanon. At least I hope it is, because if true I'll vomit.

And this is only the first episode. Idk, if this turns out to be true, I'll probably stop watching and it sucks since I really like this universe and was excited about s2. Two years of waiting and for what.. Not only the shortened season but also all this garbage. We'll see in few days, I guess, but I'm not hopeful. Anyway, thanks for reading my rant. I would love to hear your opinion on this.

Ya the way heard about leaks is sooo😂😂😂😂😂😂😭😭😭☠️ wtf they have done 😬☠️☠️

IT'S MY ANSWER FOR ALL QUES LIKE THIS FILLED IN MY INBOX CZ I GOT SAME QUES FOUR TIMES in different ways😅, so I am answering for them all but it's but long

See it's a kind suggestion from me very sweetly that it's better if you are not expecting something high from makers n watching it without any expectations because if we are hating just because they did some ships wrong then acc to that alot of changes were already done since s1, like Rhaenicent , Larys alot of things but we never had problems.

Listen I am kinda sad also but you know what..... be happy because you know Ewan and Phia are shipping helaemond🥰. They acknowledging it , loving it and adding some own elements to this ship is really amazing of them moreover just for a fan service.

Like "do it for helaemond" 😭 they are so adorable. See I knew very well that it's not gonna happen, I had a very less surity and that's how exactly it turned out.

But you know what not a single ship is going to have any good romantic future 😂 either all of them even Daemyra main centre couple is not being done well by the makers. What can you expect for others ?

because I knew helaemond had lit ceslu potential but it has to be done correctly and Ik hotd makers would ruin it or make it bad even if it was shown canon look at Alicole now. So being non canon yet addressed by makers and actors who specially said they would act on it for fan service is a kind of little serve.

To me it's like I won ( but at what cost 😭😅) but also winning well wasn't there on cards ever. Every ship is going to be destroyed by makers. see what they did with Helaegon(ik it wasn't any good already) but like I am crying on leaks ( I thought atleast this s2 helaegon would be done but better for Aegon's sake but no😭)

All ships barely are going to have small amount of time without any romantic bullshit, just in one or two scene then seperating apart n dying 😂☠️ as I said earlier so to me Ewan phia trying their own things for helaemond in background in genuinely a small cake😂. ( Atleast we have some scenes with them, idk if there would be😑😬 not expecting much)

One thing I really hate that you know they gave Juan and Cesare arcs to Aegon n Aemond making their pair up way intresting to watch. I really wish that Helaena was given the same authority or bit of freedom of exploring herself like Alicent. Sorry if someone as strictly religious like Alicent can do it then it was way easy for Heleana. And whole Borgias recreate would have been so interesting to watch.

I wish I could see Helaena scolding, shouting at Aemond for starting all this shit n hating Aegon for being a useless father after b&c. There should be a sense of of cheating or fraud when she sees her mother who claims to be a religious person but doing everything against it while she had to suffer her whole life with bad marriage.

Not seeing her any active is what which annoys me so much.

they gave her dreamer arc for Nothing just being ignored by her important family members.Phia should be awarded for her acting n carrying heleana despite of their dirty writing.

The thing is Helaemond would have been a shock and surprise more fitting for audience, making Helaena active with this part instead of doing Alicent dirty an don't even ask how I am feeling about Helaena catching Alicent and Cole . It was sooo😭🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️😑

And most ironically funny thing is that same thing happened with Borgias, Cesare and lucrezia were not canon initially and never meant for canon, both actors said we will just play into into it but when I rumours started later runners had no choice to make it canon for later season 😂

So never loose hope or stop loving or hyping any of your ship or helaemond I would say because Ryan can pull any stunt any time. The way he is going I don't think he gives much f about book canon, he is doing anything he wants😂😂

So who knows... if he ever liked Helaemond he can pull it anytime 😂(I m not kidding) bcz Alicole fucking specially between b&c since s1 is so ooc I could not even describe. I am not even hardcore FNB fan but they quite messed up Alicole angst and guilt arc which could have been so beautiful. It's so inconsistent with their parts from S1 like what ?🤦🏻‍♀️

And I hate that blood & cheese should have been how Helaena is suffering instead I am afraid whole light will be thrown on Criston/Alicent fucking reveal.

no couple is gonna have any beautiful story so it's kind of better if they are just playing with helaemond behind back.

Atleast there is so much for Helaemond content and on other hand my other ship Rhaemond is literally carried by lil warriors Leo and Eva 😭 on their shoulder with that one scene for all seasons. I never gonna see them interact again😿.

And yes I also hate how Aemond is sent to back his abuser. Like they could have used any other female if they have to show his milf attraction or some kind of guilt kink something but not his groomer. It sucks he is finding comfort in her arms. Like these show runners forgot how all these characters were exactly in season1 bc such changes r so😭

Overall I would say don't leave the show just in terms for ships to be endgame as not a single ship is going to have any happy ending or any romantic drive in HOTD main focus will be on Rhaenyra, Alicent getting depressed and Daemon will be haunted 😭 but still it's your choice in the end😅 I am no one to say anything.

Now I am mainly watching for Aegon & Aemond n how other new entries like Alys, Alyn, Cregan or Addam are gonna introduced ( well who knows if Daeron is also gets his Cameo in the end )

if I am being honest just like the way I started this show after reading book without having any great expectations. It works better that way and may be for Ewanphia Crumbs for few secs if they don't cut their scenes of which I have very much doubt.

( while how I wanna see Ewan phia/Phiwan crumbs on screens in delulu mind😭😭 :

Like this is how I wanted Helaena to jump n beat the shit out of Aemond after b&c n that's how it should be bc that's his brother not any stranger, she had full right to , but there... it's complete opposite :

[salt-baby]

As someone who is currently working in the healthcare field and looking at attended medical school, can you please elaborate on the ableism and doctors post you made? I’d very much like to avoid inadvertently falling into that category.

Somehow this missed my radar, my bad!

It's a difficult question to answer, although it is the right question to be asking.

You can find my other elaborations here and here, which will likely be helpful.

But to address your specific question, when I think about the ableism of practitioners, in some cases it is just bias, but in many it's just your run of the mill ignorance.

It takes experience to work well with disabled people - both because of the heterogeneity of them, and because the disabled experience is so far removed from the able bodied one.

Some people like myself call themselves disabled as an identity they're proud of, some people call themselves disabled but are uncomfortable with their condition to various degrees, and a lot of people would find it offensive for you to call them disabled because they would call themselves chronically ill or not impaired at all.

In your medical practice, "disabled" is going to be a legal term with a set definition, used to distribute benefits. You'll be taught an impairment model of disability, and your first instinct will likely be to try and fix the problem your patient is experiencing.

In a case like mine, that's not a mindset the patient is going to appreciate, as backwards as it sounds. Yes, I'm in a doctor's office to get treated, but the reality is that expert doctors have already evaluated my conditions and done all they can to help me. There's no quick fix - the fantasy of curing a difficult case is impossible with me, but it doesn't stop some young doctors from trying. My disability isn't one illness, but ten, and often what disables me is the environment around me rather than my actual illness (this is called the social model of disability, and that's where you should start studying).

I'm in a doctor's office to find relief from specific symptoms, or for a new problem (secondary to my existing conditions) that has popped up. Some residents have reviewed my entire medical file, and asked about things that weren't followed up on, and there's only so many times I can say "there's nothing we can do about it". Many premeds, when I mention the medications I'm taking, think that there must be some kind of better medication setup for me. Except there isn't, all of my meds are essential, and at this stage of illness, all medications have nasty side effects. I will never get better and will likely live the rest of my life on immunosuppressants and I'm okay with that, but that's very difficult for able bodied people, esp medical practitioners, to accept.

And in many cases, medical practitioners have put their foot in their mouth by just being ignorant. One person working at a rehab hospital asked if I slept in my orthotics - the answer is no, obviously, orthotics are painful to wear (it's also bad form to ask a disabled person about their disability just because you're curious). Someone told me it'll be okay, they used to wear wrist braces too and they're fine now - in reality, their supervisor just told me to consult surgeons, I was recommended casts, and my wrists remain permanently displaced to this day. I lost most of my ability to write. Our issues were not the same.

On another occasion, a premed picked up my orthotics and moved them away from me without asking - those are expensive (2000$ USD) and irreplaceable, and I need them to walk, I'm vulnerable without them. But to others, they wouldn't be aware that those braces are that valuable. Many disabled people, myself included, view mobility aids as an extension of their own body. For all intents and purposes, my orthotics are my "knees". I often compare it to a phone - it'd be really weird to take someone's phone and move it away from them, or even to touch it unannounced in the first place.

The reality of what a disabled life actually looks like is obscure to the vast majority of able bodied people. Let me be clear, I live a happy and satisfying life, where I enjoy my work and my friends and my family. My existence is not a tragedy, and when it's treated like one, it devalues my hard-won happiness in life and what I have to contribute to the world. But at the same time, every hour of every day is impacted by my disability. I have to change how I cook because I struggle with lifting a pot or standing on my feet for too long, my closet has to be adapted for my orthotics and nerve pain, a number of medications have to be kept basically within ten feet of me at all times, and I have to be very careful anytime I eat something I didn't prepare myself.

You may prescribe a medication which you know can cause nausea, and not realize to your patient, that side effect looks like being sick everyday, skipping meals, wearing a mask so a smell doesn't set you off, and not enjoying eating anymore. You may write a script for the test which is medically the correct option, but your patient may be sensitive to the specifics of the procedure (ie, for religious reasons, it may be difficult to strip down to a gown for some of the more involved imaging procedures). Cystometry and other urological procedures especially. I find this is where doctors sometimes inadvertently do harm. The best option for your patient isn't always the best option medically - it's what fits their priorities and improves their quality of life.

Understand that the current culture in medicine, for doctors, is often very callous and frustrated towards their patients. Recently I heard someone express that their patient needed to just accept their disability already and start being compliant with treatment - they had been disabled for three months. It took me a year to feel even remotely settled with becoming disabled, and my disability isn't nearly as severe as that patient's. Do not follow in your colleagues' footsteps.

If you spend the time trying to understand your patients (which may look like reading disability theory papers, memoirs, watching documentaries, possibly even volunteering, talking to some of your seniors with more experience, etc) then you're already miles better than most of your coworkers. Take the time to consider it from your patients point of view, and even though it's not what's in your textbook, appreciate the value of the information your patient brings to the table (their experience, their concerns, their gut feelings), and you've already done what most disabled people are desperately searching for in a practitioner.

The reality of a minority identity, is that for adults who have become accustomed to something like being disabled, it matters a lot more where your heart is than what you actually say. I don't care if someone is politically correct - I care if they're trying. Even if they're not quite there, that effort will pretty much always be seen and appreciated. I'd far rather someone call me "handicapped" but never view me as lesser, rather than someone who falls over themselves to "accommodate my limitations" and never actually intends to accommodate anything. Be sincere, and you can make mistakes, we'll know what the intention was.

Best of luck, my friend.