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pizzaapeteer · 2 days ago

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speed dating

mattheo riddle x fem! reader. week 1 of @acourtofchaos festivalofau event!!

street racer!mattheo can't take his eyes off you even when he's driving, especially when you bring his heart to life by impressing him with your own skills.

an: big thanks to my love leigh for proofreading <3 I don't know anything about cars - this is very much inspired/uses fast and furious scenes, and I look forward to eventually writing a full fic for this au. ty for your patience as always <3 wc: 1.9k

"Okay, so next time, we're definitely dancing," you say with excited exasperation, the two of you exiting the rowdy Cuban restaurant and into the heart of street life. It's nearing 11pm on Friday, the beat of the night is picking up pace, like the rhythm of a song, the lively chatter blending into the roars of cars flashing by you.

He laughs, shaking his head, "oh sweet cheeks, you won't catch me dancing," sliding his hands from his pockets, he places one on your lower back, gently guiding you respectfully. "Or at least not till the fourth shot of tequila."

The sound is so deep and rich; a low hum like a car's engine that makes your insides squirm with delight, and then he smiles like he's been doing all night. His lips curling up on the edges in a way that if his eyes weren't matching its sincerity, he'd have you queasy in an entirely different way.

The way he looks at you, brown eyes that glimmer with warmth under the glow of the amber streetlights, as if light is blooming out from inside him. It's hard not to get attached, and that's the last thing you need right now. You've only known him a week. But there's something enticing, though dangerous about him, like a shot of whiskey knowing it's going to burn on the way down but overall spreading a fire of heat in the pit of your stomach.

Offering him an infectious smile of your own playing on the challenge presenting itself. "Sounds as if you're encouraging me to get you intoxicated." Ardently, you raise a brow at his inquiry. "Is that something that interests you?"

"There are a lot of things about you that interest me." His eyes sparkle with mystery, as he grins boyishly like he knew the affect those words would have on you.

You play it cool and collected, smiling back at him, the two of you strolling side by side, the silence isn't uncomfortable, and it hardly seems quiet with your heart becoming erratic, thumping around inside your ribcage like a hummingbird's wings.

You pass by distinct smells of nicotine, a cigarette shared by couples couped in the alcoves of their doorways. Clangs and rackets of neighbourhood cats, balancing along fences, chasing one another. There are bopping beats of music heard from the thriving clubs and bars further down, invitingly attracting groups of young people from all over town.

"So, this is me, my ride." Mattheo comments, as he stops you outside a parked bright orange car. He's offered to take you home, for a multiple of reasons. Some are selfish, wanting to show off his baby, not that he thinks you'll be highly interested, but it's his ego and pride, and it's worn just like the paint and wax shining proudly on the exterior.

Other reasons, safety and protectiveness. He's always cared about women, and while he's only known you a week, he's grown extremely fond of you. He doesn't want you catching the bus like how you got here. And well, third, he just can't take his eyes off of you. He's never smiled so damn much on a date, the unfamiliar feeling of it beginning to make him nauseous. But it will be worth it, if it means he gets to see more of you.

"Woah, no way! You drive a supra turbo MKIV? That's so sick." The sudden and surprising exclamation from you makes his heart pound faster. Your jaw is practically touching the concrete, unable to pull your eyes away from the beast before you, a glimmer of awe in your eyes.

That is before you remember you're actually trying to impress Mattheo and not come across like a psychotic car fanatic, clearing your throat and tucking your hair back timidly. "I mean it's, um, a pretty colour."

He laughs heartily, amused by your quick and terribly obvious action to hide your knowledge of cars. He flashes you a charming smile, feeling in wonder at the woman beginning to unravel, fishing his keys out. "You know cars?”

Pulling your eyes off of his car, you nod, admitting your fascination with them with a wide grin, "Yeah, a thing or two."

“You wanna take a spin?"

Flabbergasted, you speak, "What, seriously?" When you realize stupidly, this is your only way home you're clambering into the vehicle with buzzing excitement. It's so beautiful, the interior's sleek black seats lined with soft leather that have you sinking right into them.

The dashboard illuminates, lighting up a neon orange, and the roar of the engine comes to life. It’s loud and powerful and makes your heartbeat full of adrenaline, a smile gracing your lips with excitement.

Mattheo's expression matches yours, his eyes blown a little darker, revving the car again, the deep rumble vibrating down to his bones. He flicks on the radio before he shifts the clutch into drive, taking off down the road and merging into the mainstream flow.

It's busy, the night awakening with charged energy as Mattheo swerves in and out between gaps of cars, the wind blowing through your hair, the summer warmth of ocean breezes. "Where do you wanna go?"

You look over at him, only to find him already looking at you. The contact makes your pulse spike just like the kilometers increasing on the dash are. Your heartbeat pounds in your head, matching the roaring of the car. You don't even know him that well, and yet you have full trust in his ability to maneuver through the thick onslaught of traffic without looking.

He’s clearly got an edge of cockiness to him as his eyes continue to flicker back and forth, always taking the extra time to focus his gaze on you just a little longer. "Up for ice cream?"

The casualness in which he asks makes you laugh, "Might wanna keep your eyes on the road, pretty boy."

“Why you think we’re gonna crash?”

Flashing him a playful grin, you shrug. "Not sure yet. Should I be making a bet?"

He grins, enthused by your lack of worry, his hand shifting up the gear and pressing his foot harder onto the acceleration, the two of your eyes staying locked in contact. Mattheo's eyes no longer resembled that cool tone of warmth he exerted in the restaurant.

They shine brightly with a glimmer of exhilaration and a hint of darkening mischief. His smile is full and broad, expressing the thrill and joy he felt, like a boy with his favourite toy.

The car zips with smooth control in between gaps, as flashes of vehicles pass in a blur on either side. The steady hum of vibrations continues drowning out the radio completely. All that's left is the wind, and the intense atmosphere shared between the two of you, making you wanna stay in the car forever.

A wave of disbelief cascades out of you with a breath of relief when he finally breaks, slowing down for the nearest stoplight. His eyes finally break their contact from you, and he relaxes his grip, flexing his fingers on the steering wheel. Taking the next right, he pulls up to the sidewalk, outside an adorable ice cream shop.

He tousles his dark curls, gazing at you with admiration he can't help but feel a sense of pride for your reaction to his flirtation. "How this?" Your body feels electric, the familiar dopamine rush fuelling every nerve. It's been so long since you got in a car this fast, you're craving more. "Not bad show pony." Grinning, you run a hand through your windblown hair, detangling the newly made knots.

"Driving or the dessert?" Mattheo asks, offering a toothy grin, angling his body towards you, resting his arms along the tops of the steering wheel. He's eager to impress. It's not often Mattheo wants to put real effort into his dates with pretty ladies. His mind constantly set on autopilot, a two-step routine. 1. Rev the beast and blow her mind and 2. rev his beast and blow her mind.

And now he sits, admiring a beautiful woman, sitting in his passenger seat, looking like she's stepped straight out one of Enzo's automobile sex magazines. Excluding the lack of clothing, though, his mind has already gone there.

But there's something more about the way you're looking at him, a burning blaze of wildness that lights your face. It's radiant and alluring and he feels the pull, the magnet attracting him further in, something you're offering he didn't know he wanted.

You huff, amused, and don't answer yet, letting his question linger in the charged space between you two. "Both."

Pleased with your answer he begins to exit the car when you spit out the proposed suggestion, an itch that's dying to be scratched. "But! may I counter a second opinion?"

He sits back down at your polite protest, shrugging, he doesn't mind what the two of you do as long as you're enjoying yourself. "Yeah, sure just tell me where you wanna go."

"Actually, is it cool if i drive?" With a flutter of your lashes, you give him your best adorable smile full of sweetness, a known trick of yours to make a man concave in a heartbeat.

He raises an intrigued brow, wanting to make sure he's heard you correctly. "You want to drive?" The genuine smile on your face melts his heart, and he's suddenly stammering around like a dickhead, "Ah-I mean yeah alright."

As the two of you switch places, he can't help but think what the hell he's even doing, letting some random chick drive his baby. But it's that look in your eye, the sense of belonging and ease in which you sink into the driver's seat, that makes him relax with full faith you won't crash his precious car.

Gripping the soft leather of the steering wheel, you immediately feel at home in the right seat. Familiar goosebumps of excited nerves prickle at your skin, turning the ignition, awakening the car back to life. Pressing your now bare foot hard onto the acceleration, you veer off, merging back into the nighttime flow of traffic. The prodigies breathe, blasts through the vehicle as you turn the speaker up, giggling with comfort.

Mattheo watches bemused by your infectious happiness, how comfortable and free you appear. The wind fanning out through your hair, as you grip the wheel with a sense of familiarity glancing at him every so often with full-blown bliss. The car cruises into downtown Miami; zooming along the roads smoothly and Mattheo starts up the conversation again.

"Not bad-" his words halt on his tongue as the car swerves, swinging around wide, cutting across the next lane spinning in a 180, positioning the car backwards. That contagious laugh fills the car once again, as blares of horns honk from left and right at the sudden commotion.

His sweet brown eyes widen in surprise, and you giggle again at his reaction, snapping your head behind to see where to go. The car waltzes in and out of spaces, maneuvering skillfully between the lanes.

He’s never believed in a god above, or soulmates or true love for that matter, but in that moment as his heart threatens to jump right out of his body he’s sure destiny has thrown him a bone and landed the most perfect woman in his lap. With everything he's learnt about you in the last couple hours, this knocks it all out of the park. How can a woman be this hot? His body is tense, including his cock that he swears is spurring to life faster than the miles on the dash are pushing.

He's frozen, mesmerized at the scene, stuck in a state of pure astonishment and awe. His pulse is rising as he looks at the window, watching how the car swerves sharply. Repositioning itself facing forwards, to take the next right onto the offramp, leaving behind the sounds of tires screeching and another round of horns blaring behind.

Glancing at him, another free-flowing giggle escapes catching his bewildered stare, the car coming to a halt outside a charming sorbet parlour. Cutting the engine, you slip your shoes back on and exit the car.

He's still a little dazed comprehending the fact he wants to skip the rest of the date and drive you straight to bed the keys landing in his lap. You offer one of your famous shit-eating grins already on the pavement, “come on, keep up, Bambi.”

⤷ navigation. ⤷ masterlist. ⤷ mattheo riddle masterlist. ⤷ dividers. please do not steal, copy, or claim as your own, all work belongs to me©️pizzaapeteer 2025. ty for reading!!!

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x fem reader #festivalsofau #mattheo riddle fluff #streetracer! mattheo #fast and furious #fast and furious au #fast and furious mattheo riddle

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the-library-alcove · 2 days ago

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Annotated Debate Between Hen Mazzig and Kei Pritsker

Source

Full text and commentary under the cut, original annotations done on Google Docs here, being shared here on tumblr due to some people being unable to see the comments.

Commentators include myself, @strangestructures, and several others.

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Hen Mazzig: My name is Hen Mazzig. I’m an Israeli author, activist, advocate and founder of the Tel Aviv Institute. I was born and raised in Israel. My family came from Iraq and North Africa and I live in London today with my partner. He is not Jewish. My focus is on Jewish advocacy and fighting antisemitism and hate online in all its forms.

Kei Pritsker: I’m Kei Pritsker. I’m co-director of The Encampments. I’m a journalist with Breakthrough News.

(Here is Kei's Canary Mission profile; https://canarymission.org/individual/Kei_Pritsker)

HM: I was just interested in your background, Kei.

KP: I mean I’m a journalist, I’m a student activist. I was involved in the Palestinian student groups. This is an issue I’ve been involved in heavily for a big period of my life.

(Kei refuses to give any personal background, sticking solely to professional, in contrast to how Hen gives both his personal and professional background in relation to this conflict.

Yeah, I tried to look him up online and there's nothing about him. I could confirm that he's been involved in anti-Israel activism since at least 2017 (source: canary mission), so at least he's right that it's been a big period, not just since oct. 7.)

HM: Got it, OK sorry.

I want to start with a current event; we’ve had a couple in the past few weeks that speak to both your areas of expertise. First with the Mahmoud Khalil arrest and deportation proceedings, and then the Mohsen Mahdawi case more recently. I wonder if each of you can describe how you feel about both cases. Kei, this in your wheelhouse, maybe you can start.

KP: Ya, I mean it was really horrifying to wake up to that news of Mahmoud being arrested. Our team found out like everyone else just on social media or news notifications. Having known him this was particularly devastating. But the way I see this is as something that really reflects the success of the encampments movement and the Palestine movement. The reason this is happening — the reason Mahmoud was arrested — his only crime is speaking out against the genocide and speaking in support of the Palestinian people.

(False; while Trump was doing it in a hamfisted way, there's no question that Mahmoud was in violation of the terms of his green card by supporting terrorist organizations and supporting attacking citizens. Also, Genocide Canard counter is at 1.)

And he is now being abducted.

(This language is conflation between a man held in detention but still able to communicate, and the Israeli hostages being held by Hamas)

The reason for it is Israel knows they’ve lost the narrative, they’ve lost the battle of ideas, they’ve lost the argument, and the encampment movement really proved they’ve lost the next generation.

("Israel controls the US government" Canard--presenting the crackdown as being done at the instigation and direction of the Israeli government, as if Trump wouldn't do it on his own for his own reasons)

Because of this they’ve resorted to the last tool in their toolbox, which is essentially repression, censorship. This is why there’s such a concerted effort from the Trump administration to ban pro-Palestine speech, to ban freedom of expression. I can’t even think of a country you get deported for criticizing in the United States besides Israel.

(Also that they are trying to in some way center the Palestine situation in the USA context. When they say that is only in the USA that there is this "repression" against speaking for Palestine)

So while it was initially very shocking it really seems now this is a concerted effort to criminalize speaking out for Palestine.

(Continued "Israel Controls the US Government" Canard, plus "We're just criticizing the Israeli government!" downplaying of their actions.)

Because the mood and the consciousness in the U.S. has changed so much. There was a poll that came out recently that showed that for the first time in decades American perceptions of Israel are majority negative.

(If it's the poll that's been circulating on tumblr, I looked at the numbers and posted a more detailed analysis (https://www.tumblr.com/strangestructures/782103564186189824/that-is-definitely-concerning-however-the?source=share), and the truth is still that across all age groups, there are more people with a favorable opinion of Israel than a negative one. And a lot of people, especially in the younger cohort (18-24), simply don't care.)

This is because of the work of the pro-Palestine movement and people seeing what Israel is about in the last two years and learning about the history of Zionism. People are starting to wake up to what it really is and I think they’ve lost the narrative and now they’re resorting to abductions, and it’s shameful and disgusting and I think it will blow back in their face.

Hen, what do you make both of what Kei is saying and the actions the administration has taken in recent weeks?

HM: Yeah, no it’s absolutely ridiculous to hear this response from Kei to be honest. I think that using words like abducted — we know what being abducted is; my family members and friends have been abducted on October 7 by Hamas, a terrorist group, that had been celebrated by the same people presented in this film.

(I want to add to this and note how Khalil is getting to write Op-Eds for newspapers, while hostages held by Hamas get used for propaganda videos)

And to speak to us about how the Trump administration is being controlled by Israel �� somehow Israel is infiltrating America while with the encampments on college campuses, specifically campuses that have been bankrolled by Qatar, funders of Hamas gave billions of dollars to those American universities and in the last few years we’ve seen the radicalization of these students.

(Kei ignores and don't mention this point. I don't know if is because he knows or because he knows that even mentioning it is going to make him look bad)

While I’m personally not a supporter of Trump or these tactics of taking people and deporting them, I think we should be very mindful of the words that we’re using. And I think [pro-Palestine activists] know what they’re doing. The reason that they’re framing it this way is to equate the students that have spent 18 months making the lives of Jewish students a living hell, that’s why they intentionally exclude from the movie any voice of Jewish students.

[And portraying the Jewish students at the encampments] equates to “we’re not racists, we have some Black folks we can push forward.” Kanye West was quoted as saying that slavery was a choice. Is he a voice for the Black community? Of course not. No one would argue that. But here we are with encampments taking a fringe minority of American Jews that do not represent the American Jewish community which by and large is Zionist. Over 90 percent of American Jews describe a positive feeling toward Israel according to Pew Research.

So this whole, really, charade — it’s a way to mask a lot of hatred and turn it against us, as if we’re to blame for their arrests or attacks on Jewish students who are fearing for their lives. In the encampments you hear calls like “al-Qassam’s next target.” Mahmoud Khalil has links to Hamas. The Instagram page of one of these anti-Israel groups at Columbia activating their page just moments before the attacks on Oct 7. The leader of Iran is sending them praises, Ali Khamenei saying, “I’m so proud of what you’re doing.”

(This, exactly; he's not being deported for "protesting Israel", he's being deported for supporting terrorists.

Also add that when is convenient they ignore that they received Iran's support. They probably try to clean themselves as an effort of making propaganda against them.)

I mean I would be ashamed. I would not be saying this is a success. I don’t even know how they can hold both arguments in their heads, to say “we are being silenced ” while we’re seeing this everywhere in the media, from The New York Times to CNN to BBC, everyone is covering it as if it’s the only conflict that ever happened in the world, as if it’s the only war, while in Sudan or in Darfur — I don’t want to get into whataboutism so I won’t even name the countries that are having far worse human rights violations that are getting zero attention.

So I think the question here is why are we talking about those students that have used hate speech against Jews specifically for over 18 months as being the targets but not speaking of actual victims of deportation? Why are we talking about privileged students at Columbia that can afford hundreds of thousands of dollars to attend those universities and they’re becoming the victim? It’s very bizarre to me.

Kei, what do you make of Hen’s assertion that in your movie pro-Israel Jewish voices were not platformed, and that conversely some of the backgrounds of pro-Palestinian activists were played down?

KP: Hen, did you watch our film?

HM: Absolutely.

KP: Yeah I mean so there’s a whole scene dedicated to the pro-Israel presence at these encampments and how these pro-Israel students would go up to the encampments and tell people “you should be raped, I hope you’re raped,” “you should be killed, if you went to Gaza you’d be killed—

(So no actual reporting on pro-Israel Jews, no discussion, just one scene of them shouting at the encampments. Though I do admit this went too far.)

HM [sarcastically]: Raped? Why would they use this example?

KP: —for being gay.” There was also this lynch mob, the pro-Israel lynch mob that descended on UCLA and actually dragged students out of the encampments and beat them bloody and also fired fireworks into the encampments, which very well can kill people. You know, we did show both sides.

("Show both sides" = "cherry pick one example")

We showed what pro-Israel students said to the pro-Palestine side and we also showed the non-Zionist pro-Palestine Jewish students as well because quite frankly the media coverage you’re talking about — Hen you said the media coverage of the encampments was wall-to-wall coverage. You’re right but the coverage was 100 percent slanted in favor of Israel.

(Bullshit; media biases have been consistently in favor of Hamas on the Left. Also, "Jews control the media" canard.)

All the coverage was talking about alleged antisemitism, people being attacked and “oh my god it’s these dens of violence.”

(Supposedly the fact that there is a reporting in antisemitism that there is in the encampments it make is automatically pro-Israel because is against the movement. This is a false equivalence.)

Not only was there no truth to that, not only was there no video of that shown which, by the way, in the October 8 film there’s no video or evidence shown of any Jewish students being attacked.

(Funny, I've seen plenty of videos of people from these encampments attacking Jews, threatening them, or otherwise engaging in violence--typically while having their faces covered.

There's also the whole "not letting jews get to class" by putting the encampments in the way thing. Not sure to what extent blocking someone's path counts as violence, but...)

The evidence they put forward of antisemitism was people saying “Free Palestine” or “From the River to the Sea.” Yes the media coverage was wall to wall — obsessing over antisemitism that didn’t exist.

(Jews don't get to define antisemitism canard, plus the whole denial of a hostile environment.)

The purpose of putting our film out was to balance the unfair coverage of the media — which by the way was coming from people who never stepped foot in an encampment. I was there, I lived in the Columbia encampment for 12 days. Hen, the reason I live in the United States is because on my father’s side my grandparents were kicked out of Ukraine because of antisemitic pogroms.

(See, this would have been something to mention back at the start, Kei. But your choice of words are interesting, because it makes it very clear that you weren't raised as a Jew, and the closest Jewish connection you can claim is two generations back.)

If I saw real antisemitism there I would have left, I would have covered it, I would have said something about it. I didn’t see it at all.

(This isn't Real antisemitism Canard)

What we wanted to cover was the anti-Zionist Jewish students, which is a growing phenomenon, thousands, tens of thousands, millions of young Jews in the United States

(eyeroll There aren't "millions of young Jews" in the entire world, just as a matter of demographics. Unless you're somehow claiming that every Jew under 30 is an "antizionist", then mathematically can't be, and that's before we even get into the fact that the number of antizionist Jews is somewhere in the ballpark of at most one million Jews. at most, being under ten percent of fifteen million people. So this is the "Silent Moral Majority" logical fallacy.

They also seem to not realize that when centering in the anti-Zionist jews they are not showing a jewish perspective because the other parts of the group, the ones that don't have an opinion or are zionist, are not considered for the film and also banned from the encampments.)

are realizing their Judaism doesn’t have to be tied to Jewish ultranationalism,

(Redefining zionism canard)

or a Jewish ethnostate

(ethnostate canard)

that kills people, that bombs hospitals, that bombs schools

(falling for Hamas' policy of why they use human shields the way they do)

and says that Palestinians have no right to live in their country of origin.

(Generalizing the opinions of the Israeli far-right as being the common one from the in all Israelis)

Jews are reacting to that en masse. So that’s my goal. To balance out the narrative which was completely skewed by the mainstream media.

("Jews control the media" canard)

We put something out and let the students speak for themselves.

Hen, Kei is making the point that there was a lot of vilification happening of these students, whether from the media or elected officials. What would your response to that be? And particularly in terms of Jewish protesters, we see in the film scenes of Jewish students who are actively practicing their Judaism in the encampments,

(I'm sure they exist, but I also can't help but think about the JVP "seder plate" and "sukkah". In general, the way Judaism is practiced in the camp feels very performative, and in many cases it's quite noticeable that these are people for whom practicing Judaism is unusual, either because they are disconnected from their community or because they are not actually Jews.)

and who are making a case for being Jewish without the state of Israel. How should we be looking at them in your view?

HM: Ya. I mean there are anti-Zionist Jews that exist in the world. For some reason they receive the majority of the representation in this film. That is my issue. The majority of American Jews are Zionists and you can add another seven million Jews in Israel. So you can say it’s a “growing phenomenon” but there are a lot of “growing phenomena” that are still very small and not representative. It’s like saying Caitlyn Jenner speaks for all trans women. No one would make this argument but here we are able to tokenize a minority, a fringe community, and weaponize it against us. It’s not because they care about Jews and wants Jews to be represented. It’s that they hate us so much that they’re doing this and gaslighting us. I’m sorry I’m getting passionate but it’s really I feel like they’re living in a different universe. I’ve seen the videos on these campuses — not the encampments because for some reason I’m not allowed there — but I’ve seen the violence in the videos of these young Jewish students that send them to me and they’re afraid for their safety. They kidnapped a janitor that was not even Jewish in Columbia.

(This is ignored by Kei and doesn't try to refute it.)

For anyone to say there was not antisemitism in the encampments is completely ludicrous. They weren’t saying support Palestine, they were calling for support for Hamas.

Even the October 8 film that Kei was mentioning there were clips of protesters saying they were Hamas, a terrorist organization that brutalized and killed over 1,000 Israelis on October 7 — kidnapped, killed babies, raped people. That’s why a lot of Jewish students were so upset and were calling out the rape of young girls that came back from Hamas captivity and testified about rape. We have recorded testimony of rape from a former hostage, Amit Soussana, and instead of engaging with that she was gaslighted and told she was lying. I’m sure that’s where those comments came from about rape. They are terrible comments. But I also think we need to recognize the pain Jewish students are going through. So if it’s true that someone said that someone should be raped, and I don’t know if it really happened, but if it happened I think it’s horrible and I also think it’s horrible to tell Jewish women they weren’t raped, and to deny it and say that Jews aren’t in danger when their dorms are being vandalized and the chants of “Zionists Get Out” when we know the majority of Jews are Zionists. How do you expect them to feel? Most Jews believe in Israel’s right to exist — that’s what Zionism is. So this chant is coded hate against Jews.

Kei, you’re privileged enough not to feel intimidated, good for you. The majority of Jewish students that I know and have spoken to, the majority of Jews in America, have a completely different experience than you. So it’s great you’re able to be a part of a tiny, tiny piece of the Jewish community and you take this and put your energy into presenting something but it’s just not the truth and it’s not reality and it’s completely whitewashing the violence and the hate that has been documented over and over again. You can see it anywhere, anyone can Google it, I don’t even need to cite it because there’s so much of it.

KP: if you’re saying there was violence that took place, tell me what happened.

(Hen gave specific citations and examples, so this qualifies as a goalpost move. "No violence occurred." "Yes it did, here are some specific examples." "Give me more examples.")

HM: Oh you think if you put a sign that says “al-Qassam’s next target” is that an issue for you or is that something legitimate? Is that a call for violence or not?

KP: Sorry, well you said someone was attacked. Who got attacked?

HM: I’ll find you some — I mean everyone can Google all of those cases but yeah there were Jewish students that were attacked. In Los Angeles I remember the bloody face of the student that was attacked.

KP: Yeah those were students in the Palestine encampment. It’s in our film; did you watch our film? Those students in the Palestine encampment that were ripped out and beaten by a Zionist mob and they fired fireworks into the UCLA encampments.

(Double standard of the violence only committed against the encampment are the ones that should be critize.)

That was pro-Israel violence. Those were pro-Israel people that beat up pro-Palestinian students. Who were the Jewish students who were attacked again?

HM: Do you think that calling to kill Jewish students is ok? That’s not attack, that’s not violence for you?

KP: I don’t agree with it. But it’s speech. It’s not violence.

(This is coming from the same ideology that views misgendering someone as an act of violence, but apparently saying someone is a terrorist group's next target is just "free speech". Please note the parallel with the same sort of behavior on the Right.)

HM: Oh it’s speech? To call someone to be killed is speech Kei? Are you serious?

KP: I don’t agree with it. But you said someone was attacked.

HM: I’m sending links, don’t worry, I’m sending links. Here you go. [Links appear in chat.] This is one link to an incident with two Jewish students at DePaul. Don’t worry I’ll get you all the links and all the sources.

If I can distill what you both are saying a little. There seemed to be incidents that everyone here would agree are troubling. Telling a Jewish student they’re al-Qassam’s next target or to go back to Poland is not the kind of speech I think we can all agree should be used. Kei I guess the question as I hear it from Hen is whether you feel this was the norm, the culture, or this was anomalous or outside the encampment.

KP: So that’s exactly what I’m saying. Hen is kind of proving my point with the articles he’s sending. These articles are not from the encampments. I’m not speaking for every single person that has ever said “Free Palestine” in their life. I’m just saying the attacks he’s alleged weren’t attacks that took place at the encampments. [Looks at chat]. I mean you’re just spamming—

(Goalpost move; "Show me violence" shows violence "these cases aren't valid because I have moved the goalposts, and you're spamming anyway, because these aren't valid evidence since I've moved the goalpost."

The goal post moved is the one of Violence on the Campus to violence in the encampments. Kei or he didn't remembered Hen point or he didn't heard it)

HM: Sorry, I’m sending too many examples of attacks on Jews.

KP: No, I mean you said a Jewish student was attacked.

HM: I said Jewish students were attacked. There were attacks of Jewish students in their dorms, there was an example of Jews in California attacked outside a synagogue. You say it wasn’t part of the encampment, it’s hard to identify when they have masks on. But this type of spirit is the one that is leading to violence against Jews. if you want to tell me that Jews were not attacked then we have a different issue and I mean you live in a different reality.

KP: So again what I’m saying is there were not attacks on Jewish students in encampments and none of these [links] are examples of that.

("I wonder why there are no attacks on a minority in a space that isn't allowed inside of it")

HM: Because they weren’t allowed in.

KP: And moreover there’s ample evidence of pro-Israel students attacking the encampments. I’m not speaking for every single protest that there was no bad conduct. I think we can all agree that anyone being attacked — that violence is not acceptable, that we shouldn’t be attacking people for their opinions. What I’m saying is that someone saying “from the river to the sea” — it’s in our film, a whistleblower who worked for Columbia and logged these cases of alleged antisemitism and a lot of it was people saying that or wearing a keffiyeh to class.

("Tu quque" fallacy, goalpost move, and several other fallacies--"there isn't any violence on his side, but even if there is, the Zionists do it too! And besides, there hasn't been any violence inside of the encampments, and any examples of violence outside are downplayed and presented as "alleged antisemitism" or people chanting slogans or wearing a keffiyah, so the real violence is coming from the Zionists!")

These are not antisemitic things, these are people calling for an end to a 75-year occupation and humans rights abuses that have been condemned worldwide.

("Israel itself is illegitimate" canard)

It’s legitimate speech against — ironically — an actual violent occupation that’s happening in Palestine.

Like that’s the thing that gets me — everyone keeps talking about “Jewish students feel unsafe because they see flags waving.”

(I mean, given the behavior they regularly see from people carrying these flags, yeah, it makes sense. I also feel concerned when I see a Palestinian flag waving these days, and I'm not even Jewish!

Also says a lot, because there have been repeated instances of people aligned with Kai saying that the Israeli flag makes Palestinians feel "unsafe". So rules for thee but not for me, etc.

Oh yeah, didn't think about that. The reaction to the Israeli flag is a good example, for me, of the "Israel is ontologically evil" thing.)

Meanwhile the students are protesting an actual situation where entire cities are being wiped off the face of the earth.

(Exaggeration, and also falling for Hamas' human shields policy again)

Hen you have yet to say anything about that fact — you talk about the students on these campuses as privileged or whatever or people feeling unsafe walking to their dorms, but what about the fact that Israel has destroyed every single university in Gaza?

(Stripping context of this, along with the other accusations, to demonize Israel, instead of acknowledging that the reason for the destruction is because Hamas uses civilian infrastructure as shields. But stated like this, it's this narrative that Israel just blows up hospitals, schools, and other civilian infrastructure just because they can out of simple cruelty, instead of "they have to because terrorists are using them as shields")

That’s what our film is about.

(I mean, as far as I understand the film is not about Gaza directly, but about anti-Israel activism at American universities, which is exactly what the discussion has been about. So yeah, definitely moving the goalposts.)

What do you have to say about that? What do you have to say about the safety of the Palestinian students?

HM: Ya I’ll speak about this in a second. I just want to point out that i did not say there were peaceful signs that triggered Jewish students. It was a student holding a sign that said “al-Qassam’s next target” with an arrow pointing to the Jewish student. Of course there was no violence in the encampments — the encampments were closed to Jewish students—

KP: —No that’s not true, there were Jewish students in the Columbia encampment in our film—

("We have tokens that we trot out to defend ourselves against accusations of bigotry!")

HM: —if i can finish my sentence. They were closed for Jewish students that would not sign off and say that they hate half of the world’s Jewish population in Israel.

(Kei ignores and doesn't engage in this part even to deny it. Also he ignores that a member of a minority is expressing how he is perceiving those attacks. That is a double standard.)

If they’re not going to say it they’re not going to get in. That’s why the attacks didn’t happen in the encampments — because there was no one to challenge [organizers]. They closed them down and made sure it would be a sterile area for Jews — not all Jews, the 90 percent of Jews that are Zionists in America. And for those students in the encampments — I mean I heard those testimonies of them not having humanitarian aid or getting enough food and I found it a bit bizarre. For someone who is advocating for peace for both Israelis and Palestinians and has been for years now, as someone who spent five years as a humanitarian officer working on building hospitals in Gaza and the West Bank and Hebron and Ramallah and building schools for Palestinians, it’s been part of my work so I’m deeply committed to promoting peace through building bridges this way. The situation in Gaza is horrific, it’s absolutely horrific. It’s been horrific since October 7 when the world was silent about what happened and it’s been horrific since then.

You can quote Anthony Blinken saying that the protests around the world are part of what emboldened Hamas. Hamas continues to hold hostages, continues to oppress Palestinians in Gaza, and while according to what Kei is describing is one of the worst situations ever and yet they still refuse to release the hostages, they still refuse to end it. You know if they released the hostages there would not be justification to continue this war; this war would be over. We haven’t heard anyone in the encampments actually say this. “Why don’t you call for the release of the hostages,” someone asked them. They said “well, you know it goes without saying.” But everything else you need to say and this fact you conveniently ignore?

If the hostages would be released the war would be over. Women have been raped in Gaza by Hamas and they haven’t said a word about it. Well they have said a word about it — they said you shouldn’t believe those Israeli women and said that those babies deserve to be killed because they live in Israel. While ignoring far worse human rights violations and getting praised from the Supreme Leader of Iran, one of the most brutal countries in the world for gay people. But they haven’t protested for those gay people, for gay Iranians, they haven’t said a word about them. They have an issue with Israel because according to what Kei is saying it’s an ethnostate. Show me another country in the Middle East that isn’t an ethnostate. But what type of ethnicity are we talking about? It is the Jewish one or the Arab one? My family is from Iraq and Tunisia, we have the same ethnicity.

One last thing — this movie would have much more credibility if they didn’t have someone like Macklemore producing it. Someone who engaged in antisemitism and wore a Jewish nose and had Jewface on at a concert and he took up the Palestinian cause and is producing movies. Just very interesting why you’d be OK with someone that engaged in antisemitism to be the face of this movie. Would you be OK with someone that engaged in racism to be the face of a movie about the Black community?

KP: What’s this Macklemore issue?

(Out of all the things Hen said, Kei only concentrates on the one that affects him personally.)

HM: Why, it’s not a part of your film?

KP: I don’t know, what’s your issue with Macklemore?

HM: I’m asking if it’s a part of your film.

KP: If what’s a part of my film?

If Macklemore produced the film. He was an ep, yes?

KP: Ya he’s the executive producer.

HM: Yeah, so he has been criticized by the Jewish community for wearing a caricature of a Jewish nose onstage and Jewish beard and engaging in antisemitism to the point that he had to issue a public apology [in 2014] for what he did on stage in front of thousands of people.

KP: So I mean I actually didn’t know about this and just looked it up briefly and it looks like he apologized for it. It sounds like he made a mistake and I believe in people’s capacity to grow and apologize. As long as I’ve known him I’ve not gotten the sense he has an antisemitic bone in his body.

(And who are you that gets to decide that, Kei, as someone who is apparently outside of the Jewish community?)

He’s always talking to Jews and he’s been very outspoken about the issue of Palestine, that’s why we brought him on. Because he was someone who was outspoken after the genocide

(Genocide canard counter 2)

began, at great risk to his own career.

(I feel like the people defending Israel are at greater risk of being ostracized in creative communities, which destroys careers. But there were a few cases of people going too far and losing their jobs, so now anyone who "supports Palestine" is a potential martyr. And that's what they want to be, martyrs, because it puts them front and center and shows what good people they are.

Is this a form of getting the consequences out of proportion and center more in the "persecution" of the Pro-Palestine side than in the real numbers?)

So that’s why we chose him, and you know I can’t speak to anyone’s past but it sounds like—

HM: I’m sorry, I’m sorry to interrupt it’s just really important that we point it out, Macklemore wore a long nose onstage with a Hasidic outfit and marked the Jewish community. This is directly leading to violence against Jews and we know that. Kei be honest, would you accept someone that used blackface?

KP: No, no of course not. But it looks like he apologized.

(You don't even know the details, but "it looks like he apologized" is enough. Great, I can do anything I want as long as I give a token apology!)

HM: Would you accept someone if they apologized, would you take them as a producer, if someone used blackface?

KP: I mean again, some people have the capacity to change. And if he knows he did something wrong then that’s OK. I wasn’t aware of it.

(Gotta love the double standard. "Blackface is verboten but Jewface is okay if they've changed.")

If I can, I think the subtext of Hen’s question here if I’m understanding correctly is whether having Macklemore on the film coupled with the lack of hostage emphasis, whether that adds up to an antisemitic strain and not just an anti-Zionist strain, is that what you mean Hen?

KP: I just think this idea if he made a mistake and he apologized and Hen you’re making him out to be this raging antisemite.

(Again, who are you to say that he isn't? You're not Jewish, Kei.)

[On the hostages], there are Palestinian hostages. Israel imprisons tens of thousands of Palestinians every year — administratively detains them without charges. Children as young as 12 for throwing rocks at armed vehicles. I think if we’re talking about hostages we should talk about releasing hostages on all sides.

(So... acts of violence are okay, so long as the targets can shoot back, eh?

This is a double standard that or the Israeli are capable of defend themselves so they are valid targets?)

I mean I don’t understand the implication, you’re saying the students are antisemitic for not talking about Israel hostages but it would never be asked of the pro-Israel side to talk about the 10,000 Palestinians in Israeli prisons.

(It's interesting how just a few lines ago, "Israel is imprisoning tens of thousands of Palestinians every year for no reason", then gives a reason, and then says that there's only ten thousand. What happened to the previous years' batches? I'm bringing this up not just to point out Kei's routine goalpost moving, but also to point out that he also routinely exaggerates and inflates numbers, percentages, and groups as part of appeals to emotion, while, in contrast, Hen gives specific details, which are then ignored)

We’re not asking Hen to justify these things. I don’t know why the students are being made to speak about 200 Israeli hostages.

("See, they don't count, because they're not as human as Palestinians, and we don't have consistent principles that say that any hostages are bad. And I think that people kidnapped from their beds and babies are morally equivalent to people who are assaulting others with intent to injure or kill."

Also, I'm pretty sure that if I had the choice, I'd rather spend a year as a prisoner in Israel than a month as a hostage in Palestine. A prisoner and a hostage are not the same thing!)

Hen what would you say to that?

HM: Just to clarify, the 10,000 Palestinian prisoners — hostages, as he calls them — they have committed crimes and are held in Israeli prisons, right? And they get family visits by the International Committee of the Red Cross. I’ve actually facilitated many of those visits. And the ICRC goes and makes sure they’re being treated well. In fact in the latest hostage release eight Palestinian prisoners refused to go back to Gaza because they’ve enjoyed their treatment in these prisons more than they—

KP: That’s absurd.

("I haven't heard about it so it can't be true.")

HM: — that’s not a lot. But it’s a reminder they’re not hostages and to frame them this way is just meant to do one thing and that’s to —

KP: Sorry, I think they probably didn’t want to go back because Israel destroyed Gaza.

(Calls it absurd and then tries to reinterpret it in his favor.)

HM: Interesting, so they’d rather stay a hostage? No Israel hostage wanted to stay in the tunnels. That’s the difference.

KP: Yes, because Israel is the one responsible for killing many of the hostages.

(Ah yes, the "Israel kills it owns people" canard.)

If Netanyahu and Israel cared so much about the hostages they wouldn’t be carpet-bombing the place where the hostages are being held.

("Carpet bombing" canard. If Israel was actually carpet bombing the Strip, the death toll would be orders of magnitude higher.)

HM: Kei, have you been to Gaza?

KP: What?

HM: Have you been to Gaza? Have you been to a war in your life?

KP: No but I don’t need to go to Gaza—

("The information I've vaguely absorbed is enough for me to know everything.")

HM: So don’t say people are being killed [by Israelis]. You know each time a hostage has been killed it’s a tragedy that crushes all of us. And also civilians. Any civilians dying in this war. It’s horrific to all of us. But for you to use that, to weaponize it against me to say “your army kills hostages.”

KP: How am I weaponizing?

HM: Those hostages should not have been kidnapped by Hamas. Those hostages should not have been taken from their beds by Hamas and held in tunnels and babies should not have been kidnapped from their beds with their mothers and the women should not have been taken from her bed and raped in the Gaza tunnels. The fact that you don’t speak about it is the issue when you focus on Gaza.

KP: So here’s the reality, and it’s something the protesters have been trying to point out, that this didn’t start on October 7.

(Trying to downplay the atrocity of the 7/10 with the crimes of Israel from before as that justifies it.)

HM: When did it start? When my family was forced out of Iraq in 1941? When?

KP: I mean you can go back 100 years to the First Zionist Congress. You could go back even further.

HM: So when?

KP: So the one thing I want to point out is the premise of your film is this whole war, this genocide,

(Genocide canard counter 3)

started on October 7, on October 8.

(which is interesting, because Israel didn't respond militarily inside the Strip for weeks afterward. The only response on those days were from people like Kai, celebrating and throwing parties. Remember that one professor who said, on October 15th, that the attack was exhilarating and that anyone who disagreed wasn't human?)

But the genocide in Gaza started in 2007 when Israel imposed a full naval, ground and air blockade on Gaza.

(So, eighteen years of genocide, in which time the population tripled? Can I trade? I'll exchange 4 years of genocide with a 90% death rate for 18 years where the population balloons!)

HM: They have a border with Egypt.

KP: Let me finish.

HM: They have a border with Egypt. How did Israel enforce a blockade? Because Israel is supposed to be better? Oh, so you hold Israel accountable but not Egypt.

KP: No I criticize Egypt.

HM: Oh have you protested? I haven’t seen a single sign about Egypt, not even one. Not even in your film.

KP: Because the film wasn’t about the protests.

(Double standard with "we criticize Egypt also" but our main concern is Israel.)

HM: Oh it was about Israel.

KP: We’re absolutely critical of the Egyptian government. But hold on let me finish. In 2007 Israel imposed a full blockade of the Gaza Strip, controlling everything that goes in and out.

(Yes, because Hamas started using the Strip as a base to attack Israel with, using anything they could get their hands on.)

This policy has been described as being akin to an open-air concentration camp, and not for no reason.

(Holocaust Inversion.

I always wonder since when this is a open concentration camp and how are they supposed to be being exterminated, by dying of hunger or by the hand of Hamas?)

There was an Israeli minister of the Knesset who once joked that Israel is putting the Gazans on a diet, and what he was referring to was that Israel controls the flow of food into Gaza so much so that they can actually calculate the caloric intake of the people there.

(I find it telling that this speech is worthy of condemnation (and it is) but telling someone that they're the next murder target of a terrorist organization is "free speech".

Double standard also because this is used without even considering the time when it was said, but when someone points out the "Curse upon the Jews" of Hamas this considered outdated.)

The genocide in Gaza started long before October 7.

(Genocide canard counter 5)

There was a UN report written in 2018 saying that Gaza would be uninhabitable by 2020. Before October 7, 95 percent of the water in Gaza was unfit for human consumption; the average Palestinian in Gaza got four hours of electricity.

(Gee, I wonder why? Is it because Hamas trashed all of the infrastructure in order to repurpose it into rockets? Oh wait, it is!

Also, I still don't understand why Israel is supposed to be responsible for water and electricity in Gaza, a region they completely left, despite the amount of humanitarian aid Gaza gets.

Because these people think that Gaza is an "open-air concentration camp" and is thus under Israel's complete panopticon and control.)

If you put people in an open-air concentration camp why should we be surprised they try to break out?

(That wasn't trying to break out, that was a killing spree.

Says a lot about their mindset, doesn't it?

They want to clean this saying that a good chunk of the hostages were killed by Israel and that the members of Hamas that really killed someone are a minority, downplaying it.)

Just to quickly clarify, Hen was not involved in the film October 8; there may be some confusion because Debra Messing who’s on his show was an executive producer. But to amplify Kei’s point, Hen, the idea from pro-Palestinian activists that this didn’t start on October 7 but long before — some say 1967 [when Israel captured territory and borders were redrawn] or 1948 — and October 7 was not a beginning but a culmination, how do you respond to that?

KP: This is Israel’s policy and of course collective punishment is a crime against humanity. Regardless of what you think about Hamas or what their role is, to starve two million people because they had an election [in 2007] and elected a government you don’t like is a crime against humanity.

(Good thing that, according to multiple sources, including the UN, there was never famine conditions inside the Strip!)

HM: That we “don’t like.” Do you think Hamas was elected democratically? Come on.

KP: They were. There were international observers that went there and oversaw the election, whether you like it or not is not really the question.

(It was only an election in all the time that Hamas has been in power. And then they said it has been Israel fault that Hamas has been in power this long.)

HM: That’s why there’s a war. Because we don’t like an election.

KP: My point if you leave people in a condition like that, why are we acting so shocked when they decide to break out?

(No, because they keep sending rockets to Israel.

Even before this, the rockets were just the status quo, like the weather. The war was because Hamas invaded and went on a mass murder campaign.)

Were they supposed to just sit there and accept that and say “this is my new lot in life, I’m just going to live this way, I’m never going to question it, I’m never going to do anything about it? We’re just supposed to sit there and take it?”

(Double standard, Palestine can do anything they want in retaliation but the rockets that the Israeli receive they should do nothing.)

HM: No, so we’re supposed to sit there and take it when 1,200 people are being killed—

KP: You’re collectively punishing—

HM: That’s what you’re saying though. You’re saying that we should take it.

KP: You’re collectively punishing everyone in Gaza.

HM: You’re saying we should take it, that we should allow them, because we don’t understand what it’s like to have borders, and if you have borders you should be allowed to go and take hostages.

KP: You are collectively punishing the people of Gaza for a crime they didn’t commit. Literally for having an election.

(Ignoring Hen point and doubling down in his version that what happened in 7/10 should not have formed a reaction like that and downplaying that is because they don't like Hamas)

HM: No. No, the war is not punishment. There’s a war because of October 7. Because of the massacre of 1,200 people in one day.

KP: No there’s a war because Israel is enforcing a genocidal blockade policy in Gaza.

(Genocide canard count 6)

HM: You are supporting 1,200 people being killed and a baby being choked to death—

KP: You’re supporting 200,000 people being killed—

(Even Hamas isn't claiming that number; why do you want another 150,000 people dead, Kei?)

Guys, I understand the passion on both sides. If we can—

HM: I have passion because I’m connected to it. It’s my family that is on the line. It’s my friends that have been killed. That’s why I’m passionate. I’m not sure—

KP: It doesn’t matter if it’s your family.

(At this point, I think that Kai has made it abundantly clear where he stands--and where his ideology stands--regarding the worth of Jewish lives to them. I.e. Nothing.

Also being indirectly showing support to Hamas even if is contradictory.)

HM: It doesn’t matter if it’s my family?! Are you insane? No, I’m sorry Steve, I can’t—

OK, Hen, guys, let’s bring it back — I think we all feel understandably heated, we all have stakes in this, and, again, passion. I appreciate that. Let’s bring it back to some U.S. policy. [Long pause.] So we talked a lot about the Khalil and other incidents but there’s obviously a lot going on on campuses now. We’re seeing the Trump administration take action against Harvard and Columbia in the name of antisemitism, and I want to ask both of you just in terms of this policy now, how should we feel about it? Whether it will do any good? Because I think that’s what we can all hope for is to live more peacefully, I think we can all agree with that. Hen why don’t you start and talk a little bit about what you think of this approach.

HM: I need a minute. So let him go first [goes camera-off].

KP: So again, this policy is reflective of the larger crisis here for the Trump administration, for the military-industrial complex, for Zionism, for Israel, which is that they have lost the argument especially among the younger generation.

(Is that the "Jews control the government" canard again? Oh yes, yes it is!

Also, having looked over this whole thing again... this is almost word-for-word what he said at the beginning. This isn't a considered statement, it's a catechism--basically a rote answer delivered without thought.)

The pro-Israel side is trying to put forward this increasingly paranoid conspiracy theory that the reason this is happening is because everyone in the world is an antisemite, that the United Nations is antisemitic, that the ICJ is antisemitic, that The New York Times is antisemitic, that Human Rights Watch is antisemitic, that Amnesty International is antisemitic, that Harvard University is antisemitic, that Columbia is antisemitic, that students are antisemitic.

(Well, of course you're not going to believe it, Kei, but we can give evidence of antisemitism at all of those organizations--often from their own internal documentation.)

But I actually think the reality is that it’s not that everyone is irrationally hateful all of a sudden against Jews.

(Again, who are you to decide what counts as antisemitism, Kei?

"...all of a sudden" as if antisemitism isn't millennia old

Don't you know that antisemitism was invented by the Nazis in 1933 and was ended by the Allies in 1945! /s)

I think it’s that people are sick and tired of watching babies incinerated in their cribs,

(and I wonder how you saw video of that? Who took the video, who uploaded it, and who edited it? Which conflict did it come from? Oh, also, Blood Libel canard)

of watching people’s livelihoods destroyed, of watching entire families, entire bloodlines, wiped out.

(Unless they're Israelis, apparently)

I think people don’t like genocide.

(Genocide Canard counter 7)

And I think people are sick and tired of watching their government send money and weapons and 2,000-pound missiles to be dropped on apartment complexes and journalists.

(again with the "Israel is cruel and bombing just for shits and giggles and wanton cruelty" canard.

They really should learn why it is dangerous being a war reporter in general. Do they really think that a certification is like a force field or similar?

Don't forget that a lot of Hamas militants actively seek out being "independent journalists" in order to use that as a shield.)

Hen talks about journalists. This has actually been the deadliest conflict for journalists ever.

(Because they're all terrorists moonlighting as journalists; that's been shown repeatedly.)

Israel doesn’t want that truth out.

Kei, can I ask you just on that previous score. You mentioned a lot of organizations. I don’t want to get into specific ones but people on the right say that there is something endemic to left-wing organizations that can be antisemitic. Do you think that’s true? Clearly there are people on the right and far-right who have problems with antisemitism, I just wrote about some of them. But is is true on the left, with the pro-Palestine movement? I’ll mention this example because Hen just tweeted about it, that the suspect who tried to burn Josh Shapiro’s house down cited the Free Palestine movement. The argument is there’s a normalization that’s happening that says it’s OK to be antisemitic and can lead people like the suspect which, if he did what was alleged, to do something terrible. Is this a problem in your view in the Free Palestine movement?

KP: So with the Josh Shapiro incident, if you look at the video [the suspect] is clearly mentally ill.

("There is no systemic antisemitism on the Left. Everyone who is antisemitic is having a mental health crisis. There is no war in Bah Sing Se."

Also, you can look at a short video of someone and diagnose them with "mental illness". And mental illness leads directly to hate and violence against minorities, even if there's no hate against said minorities in society at large, because mentally ill people develop their hate out of thin air and are not influenced by society at large. And of course, there's the whole "mentally ill people are scary and violent" thing, which is not directly related to Israel / antisemitism, but I still found it worth pointing out. Mentally ill people are much more likely to be victims of violence than perpetrators.)

He has never posted about Palestine before. The idea that he’s some Palestinian activist is ridiculous. I think he probably has mental issues. I don’t think he has anything to do with the Palestinian movement.

("No True Palestinian activist would do this!")

So you’re not concerned about normalization of antisemitic rhetoric.

KP: Well again, what Hen is doing is making a false equivalency between anti-Zionism and antisemitism.

("Jews don't get to define antisemitism, only outsiders do.")

There’s growing anti-Israel sentiment in the United States which is true but to say that this has led to attacks on Jews I think is wrong. And a lot of the incidents, if you look at the ADL’s report on antisemitism, a lot of the antisemitic incidents being reported are just people speaking out in support of Palestine or wearing a keffiyeh or saying Free Palestine. That’s not antisemitism.

("Jews call everything antisemitism, and I don't understand micro-aggressions or hostile environments when they're targeting Jews."

They also put the ADL as being blindly Pro-Israel and with Trump government.)

Hen, what would you say to that, to the idea that tying antisemitism to an anti-Zionist movement is a false equivalency.

HM: Yeah. First I’ll quote the person that wanted to burn Josh Shapiro’s family alive. He said “I have said for years, years before October 7, that I favor a two-state solution, Israelis and Palestinians living peacefully side by side, being able to determine their own future and their own destiny,” that’s what he said to reporters just yesterday. To me it sounds like a legitimate call for peace and co-existence. But that made him go and try to burn down a Jewish family and Jewish governor. So there’s a lot of semantics here that are being thrown around. Since October 7 antisemitic incidents in America have reached an all-time high — yes, even statements about Palestine like the one I cited led this person to go and try to burn an entire Jewish family alive. I think there is a problem of antisemitism on both the left and the right and I think the fact that Kei didn’t even know that Macklemore has used Jewface — they would never touch someone who engaged in racism or homophobia but when it comes to antisemitism it’s such an afterthought that you didn’t even know about it, it wasn’t even an issue.

Maybe I’ll speak briefly about what I’m doing with And They’re Jewish. Because what’s striking to me is the contrast between The Encampments and my project, the whole notion that it’s something they’re not even related to — Kei said it doesn’t matter if you’re related to it — but I am related, I am a person invested in it, and the difference between his film and my series is that the film shows Jewish identity through the lens of political rage, through chants, through erasure, through deciding for Jews what is and isn’t antisemitism. It’s very political, and Jews are just a background noise at best or the villains at worst. But And They’re Jewish centers joy, creativity, diversity, humanity. And it reminds people that Jews are not just headlines or symbols in someone else’s protests; we’re real, complicated, vibrant people. And I think the world needs more of that right now. Because this sort of dehumanization that we’re seeing from the encampments and other causes is directly leading to violence against us, and there are reports after reports, study after study, that show how dehumanization of Jews is leading to violence against us, that led to the worst genocide in modern history of six million Jews.

And that’s our fear today — that this dehumanization, this afterthought about Jewish identity and the way we’re being portrayed by this [pro-Palestine] movement, even if it’s just in the guise of “we’re just speaking about Zionism; we’re just speaking about seven million Jews in Israel that we think should be killed, not all Jews,” it doesn’t matter, it harms real Jews, it’s how a 70-year-old Jewish guy was beaten to death in California at a protest, it’s how we ended up with Josh Shapiro’s house being burned, it’s how we end up with so much violence in this country against us, it’s how we end up being gaslighted about the horrific brutality of October 7.

Thanks Hen, I’m glad you talked about the show, and Kei, I’m glad we spoke about the movie. I hope you each continue to watch each other’s work and we all watch work even from people we don’t agree with. We have time for one last question, so I’ll ask each of you this: What’s something you would like to see change on your own side? Something thought about or done differently. Hen let’s start with you.

HM: I’d like to see more voices from the pro-Israel camp speaking up for Palestinian civilians. I think it’s important that we speak about suffering on both sides and that we humanize both Israelis and Palestinians and we make sure we’re focusing on people as human beings and not just as pawns in some dystopian story.

(Kei ignores this)

That we’re seeing real human beings. I hope Israelis and Palestinians will be seen on both sides.

Thank you for that Hen. Kei, same question. Anything you’d like to see done or handled differently on your end of things?

KP: Yeah, I think there are a lot of people in the U.S. that are being legitimately propagandized or lied to about who the Palestinians are and are being told the same narrative that they were told after 9/11, “a lot of Muslims are violent, that they’re hateful people and the Palestinians are our enemy that Lebanese people are our enemy.”

(American-centric glasses for the conflict, and not bothering to examine any deeper.)

But the reality is our enemy is the military industrial complex, it’s the generals, it’s these politicians who sell us on these wars. I would like the Palestine movement to really engage with more debate with these people who are coming forward and supporting Israel because I think a lot of them are being misled about who Arabs and Muslims and Palestinians are.

(Honestly, Kei, if you're an example of the level of good faith debate coming from your movement...)

Thank you for that Kei. A good note to end on from both of you. I think more understanding about who we all are is a good thing. Before we go I just want to give you guys credit. Usually with this conflict people are chanting behind barricades or talking to their followers and not engaging with another side. I know things got heated and there may be some raw feelings. That’s understandable. I hope everyone takes a minute to takes care of themselves. And then feels good about what they did. Not everyone is willing to sit here and have these conversations — hard as they are, important as they are. So thanks to both of you. I hope we can continue talking, and listening.

#antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #the anti imperialism of idiots #israel hamas conflict #jumblr

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erwinsvow · 3 days ago

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I think with the combination of all the Abbot fics I've been consuming and your pope x babysitter fic that has possessed my mind body and soul I've been ruminating on what pope would think or do if he was working and babysitter and Lena got into some kind of medical emergency, like an accident or assaulted (not sa) or something silly (traumatic) like that and he gets the call to come to the ER. The rage, the panic, the guilt, the floof. It's been my end of the day "time to world build a silly situation before I go to sleep" daydream.

oh this made me UNWELL. unwell.

his phone goes off while at smurf's—unusual, but not enough to make him panic immediately. you sometimes like to text or call to check in on him throughout the day, ever since you both made the jump from babysitter and dad to... whatever you are right now. he wants to say girlfriend and boyfriend but it sounds so silly in his head. you're more his wife and he's more your husband than anything else.

he knows that because your apartment's lease is ending next month and you have no plans to renew. he's been moving clothes around in baz's to make room for your belongings, and looking at other properties to see if there's somewhere bigger and nice he could get for you and lena.

so when his phone goes off, he thinks its you. when he sees the number flashing from the local hospital, he gets up right away, steps out briefly to take the call and ignoring his family in the other room. and his blood runs cold—hi, is this mister andrew cody? yes, i'm calling from the emergency room, your daughter and wife were hurt in a car accident—

and he has tunnel vision, not listening to smurf and craig yelling after him, getting in his truck and speeding to the hospital as fast as his feet can take him. he parks somewhere he probably shouldn't, brings his gun tucked into his waistband because someone is going to pay for this, and runs straight to the counter where he asks for you and lena. begs, demands, pleads. he needs to make sure you're both okay, expecting the worst, thinking he's ruined yet another good thing, that the only good things in his life are disintegrating with each passing minute.

and you're sitting behind a curtain, getting stitches on your forehead and arm. lena is okay, with a bruise that makes andrew angry the longer he looks at it. he goes in first to hug her, holding on too tightly, he's sure, checking her head for anything they could have missed. and then you—seeing blood on your pretty skin makes him irrationally upset. he's thankful he brought his gun inside.

"this lady," you start, after thanking the doctor and the nurse and lena taking her side by you on the bed. "she was old, i think maybe she didn't see the stop sign. but she feels terrible. i hope she's okay—"

"i don't," andrew interrupts. you gape at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"don't say that! it was an accident. we're fine, that's all that matters-"

"you could have not been fine," he says, the very idea that some demented old lady two seconds away from knocking on death's door could have taken both of you away from him making his vision blurry.

"but we are," you press, taking andrew's hand into yours. even in this state, even with everything going on, you still remember to take care of him. "we're okay, right, lena?" and she smiles up at him.

he doesn't deserve you.

"you got here fast," you say, rubbing your fingers on his knuckles, his racing heart steadying. you were okay. maybe that would have to be enough today. the metal of his gun feels cool against his skin.

he wants to say it. didn't exactly stop at red lights or listen to the speed limit. but nothing comes out, so he just stares. like he wouldn't—like he would linger where he was, take his time coming to see you. like you and lena being hurt in this hospital bed wouldn't mean that his life was over too.

you smile up at him, your other hand firm on lena's. and he smiles back, and for now, that'll have to be enough.

(though, a few days later, the insurance concludes it wasn't your fault. your poor car is totaled, and they'll be paying more than you expected to help get you a new one. and when you ask about the old lady, the one who hit you, if she's okay now, the agent laughs uncomfortably. she's fine, but she won't be driving anytime soon. someone stole her keys and punctured three tires, and well, insurance only covers it if all four are ruined at once.)

#📮 asks #didn't proof read this... but i liked it!#pope cody #pope cody x reader #babysitter reader

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shieldofiron · 2 days ago

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Angry Again

Also on Ao3

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Breakup/Makeup, Happy ending don't worry, TW: Car collision, Hospital Visit

Billy's sure the phone is never going to ring.

After all, he's the one who walked out on Steve. He doesn't know what he's waiting for. Steve obviously deserves so much better. This is for the best. He knows it's the best thing for Steve, and he loves Steve more than anything.

Still, you'd think after six months he would be over watching the phone, but he can't help it. He's attached to it, in a way Heather says is definitely unhealthy.

It's just... he kept thinking if Steve would only call, angry. Show how much he cares about Billy, tell him to come back, or go fuck himself... if Steve just cared, Billy wouldn't be able to stop himself.

The only time he wasn't looking at it is when he's sleeping. So of course...

"Muhullo?" He mumbled into the phone, his four days old stubble brushing hard against the glass.

"Hello Mr. Hargrove, this is Amy at Hawkins General. I'm sorry to wake you. We're calling about a Steven A. Harrington. He's been admitted after a car collision and he appears to be stable.

""What?" Billy blinked. "Is he ok?"

"Can you confirm that you're the emergency contact for Steven Alessandro Harrington?"

"I... guess?" Billy mumbled, sitting up.

"Are you available to come to the hospital? He's stable but unconscious, and we have some questions about his medical history."

Billy sucked in a breath, shame cratering out his stomach. "He has a history of concussions... two in high school and one from just after, he... is he ok?"

He heard typing in the background. "You should come soon, if possible."

Billy's heart was in his throat as he fumbled out a thank you and jumped out of bed, tossing on some pajama bottoms and a hoodie over his head. He grabs his wallet and then, at the last minute, a book. He might be waiting a while, he's not sure.

The drive passed in a blur, which is probably dangerous, given the circumstances. He wanted a cigarette or two or twenty but then he remembered he promised Steve he quit, and even though they’re not together… it’s still Steve.

He was sweating bullets as he came into the emergency room, but as he expected, he isn't allowed see Steve. He was still not family, and it was still late. He filled out Steve's paperwork and waited. He watched the tv playing reruns of King of Queens. He read, the words blurring together into nothing. He cried, when no one was there to see.

They wouldn't tell him anything, just that Steve is stable. Stable, stable, when Billy felt like a rickety table with the legs kicked out.

He had woken before he realized he was asleep, a hand on his shoulder gently squeezing.

"Mr. Hargrove?"

Billy squinted into the fluorescent light. There's a nurse and...

It was Steve, his hair curling over the edge of a neck brace. He looked a little haggard, but remarkably well, considering. He looked full and sweet and Steve, even if his hair is much longer than Billy'd ever seen it.

Billy looked down at his book. It was a copy Steve had given him for his birthday. A Separate Peace.

"He's free to go home, here's his care instructions," the nurse handed over a packet. "You'll want to monitor his concussion but he can sleep, he's allowed."

It felt like a dream. The nurse walked Steve through the discharge papers. Billy stood, useless except for his car. He didn't dare ask about Steve's right now.

And then they were sealed in the car, something antiseptic and sharp piercing the space like a lance. Steve's hand, his wrist loosely circled by a hospital bracelet, tightened on the door as if holding on for dear life, even though they weren't moving. Billy stuck his dead cell in the console. The only person he wanted to call was here.

"Are you ok?"

"I... yeah..." Steve said.

"Cuz they wouldn't tell me anything, just that you were stable."

He could hear Steve thinking, the gears turning to decide between bitchy and sincere.

Billy held his breath.

"A car hit me in the intersection. We were both fine, but I passed out in the ambulance. Concussion. No sign of swelling or anything." Steve said it dispassionately, and Billy's stomach sank. Bitchy at least meant Steve cared. He didn't sound like he cared at all.

Billy wanted to ask, why am I still your emergency contact? Why does this still hurt so much and when did it stop hurting for you? When will it stop?

"I'll just... take you home. Same place?" Billy forced the same dispassionate tone, sniffing slightly and squinting into the sun.

They'd been like this many times before. Not this exactly but. Steve playing passenger princess. Early morning rides to breakfast. Rides home after a night together.

"Same place." Steve said softly.

There's no music playing. Billy'd been too panicked last night and now he can't imagine anything more embarrassing than turning on top 40 right now.

They're almost in front of Steve's place way too soon. Way too soon, even though the ride was awkward as fuck. It was the last ride Billy would ever have, he was sure of it and he couldn't... didn't... want to let go yet.

Steve realized Billy's crying before Billy does. He urged Billy to pull over on the side of some random street and switched the gears into park.

"I thought.... I thought...." Billy's breath won't come. Nothing will come. No one will call, and if Steve hadn't left him as emergency contact, no one would have called and- "If you had died... if you had died, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve..."

Steve pulled him across the console and this was all wrong, Billy shouldn't be the one being comforted but somehow, he was.

"I was so glad it was you," Steve said, his arms tightening with every word. "I'm glad you came. Fuck, I was so scared."

"It's my fault, Steve..."

"It wasn't your fault, Billy."

"It was. I left you," Billy took a deep breath, trying to haul himself back from the edge. Shame burned around his edges, his father's voice in his head told him that he was acting like a pussy.

"Oh. That. Yeah, that was your fault." Steve's voice sounds more amused than really mad.

"I... I'm so sorry, Steve. I didn't.... I wanted to... I thought you'd be better off without me," Billy whispered brokenly, pulling back.

"I'm..." Steve took a deep breath. "I want to talk about that later. Now I want to go to my apartment with you and rest. Is that ok?"

"Are you gonna be mad later?"

"Yeah, probably."

Billy smiled, a weak warbly thing. "Good."

He follows Steve up the stairs to Steve's little apartment, their hands knit together. They read the instructions and Billy slowly helped Steve into bed.

"I hate being fucking sick." Steve muttered.

"I know you do."

"I hope you know this means we're together again. Boyfriends. The full nine yards."

Billy's breath caught in the back of his throat.

"I know."

"Good. Now get into bed so I stop feeling like... ugh... that weird old Charles Dickens lady who never left her bed."

"Miss Havisham?" Billy smirked, teasing. "I can get you a wedding dress."

Steve huffed, his eyes starting to drift closed. "After I ask you. And after you promise never to pull this 'better for you' bullshit again. Fuckin'... wedding dress."

He had dark circles, and his hair was far too long, shaggy the way he hated it. Billy brushed Steve's cheek.

"I love you."

"I know," Steve's voice was drifting, half sleepy. "This doesn't mean I'm not pissed."

"I know."

#billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #steve x billy #my writing #light whump #hurt/comfort #tw car accident #tw hospital

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forestfirefragments · 2 days ago

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ik this is an ask game but I wanna answer some of these anyways

🕯️none, too many amnesia barriers

🗝️ we aren't consistent at all, there's several parts here right now but I don't know anything about them. a few of them speak but a few of them are just there, influencing my actions silently.

🌘 green, purple, and teal. we tend to like cooler colors.

🦋 either sweats/pajama pants with a t shirt (current one is a purple bug themed one with a giant moth and beetle) and slip on shoes or cute shirts with skirts and boots

🍄 like. everything. lately we struggle even playing minecraft bc we literally can't agree on controls, some want to go left and some right and it just doesn't work out

🍉 Ember or Moth, system name is forefirefragments

💿 it isn't just a disorder about alters, it's amnesia and trauma responses. we will forget, a lot. memories get stolen, parts lash out in fear or anger, choices go unmade either due to forgetting or inability to work together. for us, our parts don't work together. they don't give themselves names anymore, or anything to identify themselves by other than the fact that they're different than me (at least me currently, there are others influencing me but I'm mainly 'in charge' for now I guess.) they don't have appearances and some of them don't even have voices, just a passive influence over our choices. some are here to comfort while others are here to bring down. we've had this mean sounding alter, but they aren't mean. whenever we're being harsh on ourselves they call us a dumbass and tell us to stop. but we also have this nice sounding alter, a softer voice. but they aren't nice. they'll subtly insult us until we spiral. they don't have names, or appearances. I don't know anything about them other than what they say. we used to be more organized, but we aren't anymore. parts come, or split. parts leave, or become inactive. im sure there was a term for that but i don't know it. we used to know it, well not me, but past hosts and alters did. this is getting a bit long so I'll end it with what I started with, it isn't just about our alters. it's complex.

bored as shit have an ask game for systems

but it's not info that's mad dangerous to share online

NOT ENDO SAFE I DON'T LIKE U

🕯️what do you primarily use for system organization? what do you like / dislike about it?

🗝️ how consistent are you with logging switches / do you even bother?

🔮 if you have fictives, how do they tend to feel about sourcemates? is there a general agreement or no?

🐇 what's your go-to method for figuring out appearance for parts? picrew, pinterest, drawing them? something else?

🎻 are there any songs you feel show your perception of your CDD?

🎀 how organized would you say your sp / octo / whatever organization you use is?

🌘 is there a colour preference most of you can agree on?

🗡️ how would you describe how you dress? bonus: which two parts have the most opposite styles?

🦋 who in the system has messed up the sleep cycle the worst?

🍓 which part has the best music taste?

🐠 what's one thing you wish you knew when you first found out about your CDD?

🍄 what's one thing that takes way longer than usual due to your CDD?

🌙 what's your "welcome to the system" talk look like? (if you have one)

🌱 how different are your food preferences?

🍉 if you have a collective name / theme, how did you decide on it?

💿 what's one thing you wish people understood about your system? (does not need to be about CDDs in general)

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sticktothestars · 1 day ago

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𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 , " 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 '𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 . " ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

a/n: *walks in, twiddling my thumbs* so i watched thunderbolts. we're just gonna say that i totally didn't fall in love with bob. AVENGERS FOUND FAMILY FANFICS ARE SO BACK GUYS. FHDSFFJ I'LL MAKE A SEPARATE POST ABOUT WHAT I THOUGHT ABOUT THE MOVIE, BUT YEAAH. I LOWKEY AM SUPER EXCITED & I CAN'T WAIT FOR YALL TO READ THIS 'CUZ I'VE BEEN HAVING THIS IDEA STUCK IN MY HEAD & IT WON'T GO AWAY. ANYWAY, IMMA STOP YAPPING NOW. ENJOOOYY!!1 (ALSO. you have the powers/fighting style of deadpool!)

paring: robert/bob reynolds x male!reader

word count: 1k+

warnings: slight spoilers for thunderbolts* if you haven't seen it. takes place post movie. slight cursing. contains a shit ton of angst & hard topics like anxiety attacks, child abuse, gore, & character death are mentioned throughout this oneshot. yeah i lowkey kind of spiraled while writing this lmfaooo.

════════════════════════════════════════════

──★

IF you told the [Y/N] from 3 months ago that you'd be working with the new avengers, you would've laughed HARD in your own face. Seriously. It would've lasted for like 7 minutes before you'd probably go tell you to fuck off or something. But now that you was here - saving people instead of being the one to end people for money - it felt trippy thing to even consider. Especially with the things you've done in your past. Despite your initial hesitation on even teaming up with this unstable group of people, you couldn't help but feel a LOT more happier than how you was before.

Maybe it was just the fact that saving people felt good or that you finally had a purpose in life - but no. It was something completely different. You was finally around people who understood what it felt like to not feel like they didn't deserve anything good or be stuck in an endless loop that just hurted you even more. It felt like a HUGE breathe of fresh air. Or maybe it was because you were around him like 99.99% of the time now after everything.

You met Bob in... troubling circumstances, to say the least. Bucky - a good friend of yours - contacted you while you were in New York in retirement from your mercenary past. You were honestly struggling a little. Working as an unsuspecting barista for some cozy coffee shop was nice & all, but it felt.. meaningless. So with one last second thought, you put your suit on & rode your motorcycle to a new mission. Which ended well overall, but with a lot of memories you wanted to lock away unfortunately.

But since then, the two of you have grown closer - especially since you were living together amongst the others in the Avenger's base. Bob obviously couldn't go on the missions due to not being able to control his powers all that well. You try to help him out the best you can when you're there.

...But sometimes that helping could go sideways.

──★

[Y/N]'s flicked open as he noticed the surroundings around him. Where was he? Just a moment ago he was sparring with Bob in the training room & then..

" Oh fuck.. " you muttered with a sigh as you realized what's happening. Your gaze fixes on a teen version of you - freshly scarred, WAY more defensive - yet afraid. Like there was something out for him. You knew what this was. You knew it all too well.

Back before you became a mercenary, you were a cage fighter in Orlando - trafficked at 7 & escaped at 16. 9 years of horror. Yeah that fucked you up pretty bad. Of course it would. But you had friends. It what kept you sane.

But they took that away too along with your dignity.

One night - when you were 16 - a new match was starting. They didn't tell you who the opponent would be. They never did. To them, it was just another body to throw away for entertainment. Having survived for so long & having so much blood on your hands, you'd think that you'd get used to it by now. But it only just got worse from there.

You stood there, watching yourself as your younger self enter the cage - a look of uneasiness on your younger self's face, tuning out the crowd of people as they cheered for blood. But you? You just wanted to know who else? Who else's blood would you have on your hands? As your opponent stumbles out into the cage with a shove from one of the guards just outside the cage, you saw your heart drop. Just by the horror on your own face.

Your opponent was your best friend, Liam. The Liam who stuck by your side through the last 9 years you've been here. The Liam who managed to make you laugh when things got that dark. The Liam who was your anchor. The Liam who you absolute adored like an older brother. You couldn't do it. You refused to. You couldn't do it if you tried.

" ... No.. No I'm not hurting him. You can't make me kill him. " You refused, backing away & banging on the cage's exit. Liam just watched you. He watched you try to figure out something. Anything to stop this match from happening. Liam knew this would happen soon. He was prepared for this. Hell, maybe he even prepared this moment from the start. You know that now. You wish you knew it sooner.

" [Y/N]. " Liam says gently, his voice calm - causing the younger you's attention to snap towards him, eyes tearing up as you tried to say something. Anything. But only a mournful silence filled between the two of you as the crowd cheered for the two of you to fight. You shook your head, keeping your head down.

" [Y/N], you have to. " Liam says gently, putting a hand on your shoulder as he approached. You just shook your head. " No- No- I-i-i can't- " You stammered out, clenching your fists so tight you felt as though you were bleeding slightly through your bandages.

" They'll kill you if you don't, kid. " Liam states. " I don't fucking care. " You say back, holding yourself close as you look back up at the 20 year old you've grown to be so attached to.

Liam sighs. " Well start caring. You're surviving. Even if it means killing me too. " The brunette says sternly.

" No! I'm not losing you! And I'm not listening to them anymore just to survive! " You call out so everyone can hear. The crowd boos, insults rolling out into the arena like a hurricane. The ringleader scoffs, motioning the guards to ready & aim at you.

Liam clocks this & horror enters his face, shielding you as bullets & sparks fly - the crowd falling silent. The bullets stop. Everything stops as a body slumps onto the ground. But it wasn't yours. It was Liam's. You stare at the hole covered body for what feels like a lifetime. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't even think straight.

Only when a guard grabs you is when you react is when you scream, absolute anguish & horror in your voice as it breaks as you're dragged out of the arena - new plans settled for you that changed your dna & life forever. The present you doesn't look away from Liam's corpse. You felt yourself spiraling within your regrets over the What If's.

What if you had let Liam kill you that day? You didn't deserve to live. Especially with the blood on your hands. The things you did without mercy. But Liam? He was kind. He was good. He deserved way better. He was so good & no one else ever got to see that goodness in him.

You scratched at the collar of your shirt, trying to force yourself to breathe but you couldn't. Everything felt so meaningless. You were meaningless. You were the problem because you couldn't keep your mouth shut.

Fuck. Everything felt so heavy. You collapsed to your knees, squeezing your eyes shut but Liam's lifeless body kept coming in again & again like a broken melody.

๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

" 'M sorry- M' so sorry- I-i should've known this would happen- I'm so fucking sorry- " A panicked & oh so familiar voice called out, snapping you out of your vision to feel Bob holding you in his arms tight as you sobbed. You hold onto his warmth, clenching his shirt. The two of you stay there for a while. Which seemed like forever. But neither one of you complained.

You sniffle slightly, letting your head nuzzle into the crook of the other's neck. And Bob just held you tighter. He couldn't let you go through this again. He couldn't bear seeing you hurt because of him.

You were probably one of the coolest people on the team, but seeing you fall apart like this felt gut wrenching. He mutters out more apologies, his chin resting on your head.

He's made everything worse again.

And to you of all people.

The man he absolutely adores.

──★

lowkey locked tf in on this one idk. hope yall enjoyed tho lowkey !! lemme know if yall want a part two or smthin cuz i'm down. SEND ME MORE REQUESTS PUHLEASEE.

anyways, that's it for now !! BUH BYEEE ^^

── DAMIEN ★

#bob reynolds x male reader #bob reynolds x reader #robert reynolds x male reader #robert reynolds x reader #sentry x male reader #sentry x reader #thunderbolts #marvel #new avengers #thunderbolts x reader #thunderbolts spoilers

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theeartuaist · 3 days ago

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Sometimes, I don't know what is worse, a yandere who's so delusional or a yandere who's so self-aware yet engages in obsessive and possessive behaviour nonetheless. Walk with me.

Like the delusional ones are terrifying because they genuinely believe they're doing the right thing. They'll lock you in a room and be like "this is for your own good my love" while you're screaming and they're serving you breakfast in bed with a smile.

They are so deep into the rabbit hole they've convinced themselves the hole doesn't exist. They're the ones who'll leave seventeen voicemails saying "I just want to make sure you're okay" while standing outside your window with a crowbar. They've rewritten reality in their minds like a twisted Choose Your Own Adventure book where every path leads to "happily ever after... or else."

BUT THE SELF-AWARE ONES

They'll deadass be like "I understand that my behavior is possessive, controlling, and violates multiple boundaries" then proceed to install 23 tracking apps on your phone. They know it's wrong. They can recite chapter and verse why their behavior would earn them a restraining order in any sane jurisdiction. But that knowledge doesn't stop them—it amplifies them.

They're out here doing full psychological analysis of their own behavior pattern while simultaneously deepening the pattern. They'll be in therapy describing their yandere tendencies in clinical detail to their therapist, nodding along to the coping mechanisms, and then walking straight out and buying 15 more security cameras for your house.

They're literally like "I know I'm toxic and you deserve better... anyway here's the 200-page dissertation I wrote about why we're soulmates based on the fact that we both like the same flavor of ice cream"

They can ratio you in an argument so hard because they'll use actual psychology textbooks to explain why their obsessive behavior is actually a totally rational response to their deep-seated attachment issues.

Like bro you can cite Jung and Freud all you want but you're still wearing my hoodie that you stole 3 months ago and sniffing it while updating your spreadsheet of my daily routines

The delusional yandere is in a horror movie. The self-aware yandere is in a psychological thriller where THEY'RE the unreliable narrator, the author, AND the reader all at once.

God help you if you try to ghost these bastards. The delusional one will keep calling until the phone lines fray from overuse. The self-aware one? They'll explain, in terms so clinical they could be published in the New England Journal of Stalking, exactly why your attempt to establish boundaries is actually detrimental to what they've determined is your "necessary codependency dynamic."

They're out here weaponizing therapy speak:

• "I need to process my abandonment trauma through this tracking device"

• "My love language is gift giving" buys your entire apartment complex

• "I'm just looking out for your mental health" hacks your DMs to delete messages from potential romantic interests

The self-aware yandere invented gaslighting yourself because they'll literally be like "I am fully cognizant of the fact that I'm gaslighting you right now", even providing footnotes explaining the exact gaslighting techniques they're employing while you be standing there like 🧍‍♀️ what do I even do with this information.

I think what fascinates me the most about self-aware type of yandere is that they exists in a state of perpetual dramatic irony. It's like they are trapped in a play where the audience (themselves) knows exactly what the character (also themselves) is doing, yet the show must go on! Scene by recursive scene.

TL;DR: Delusional yanderes are playing a game where they don't know the rules. Self-aware yanderes are speedrunning social relationships while reading the instruction manual and deliberately ignoring it.

Pick your poison I guess?

#yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yan blog #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere discourse #my writing #writeblr #yandere drabble #yandere headcanons

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flofaiiry · 1 day ago

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why him? ; pope cody x reader

warnings: swearing, probably ooc pope & j

wc: ~580

i am so so sorry if this is extremely ooc for pope or j, i'm basing them off of the two episodes i've watched and a bunch of pope fanfic i've read! i'm imagining this taking place right at the beginning of the show (seeing as that's all ive watched!!)

"i dont want this to come across as like..." josh trails off, searching for the words so as to not offend you, "like, rude or whatever?" he squints, trying not to cringe at how awkward he's being. you smile, "spit it out, kid, i won't be offended."

he takes a beat, slowly nodding before he continues. "why are you..." he glances back to andrew standing inside the house, before turning back to you. "why are you with him?" you raise your eyebrows, "him? you mean andrew?" josh nods, "pope, yeah- andrew i guess."

you cant help but laugh. the sound mostly leaving as forced exhales through your nose. "yeah i guess we're not really alike at all, huh." josh shakes his head, "no, you're definitely not." a small smile coming on his face, now knowing you didn't take his question the wrong way.

you take a sec, honestly thinking about the answer. why were you: college educated, career woman, from a good family, with andrew pope cody of all people. you understood how the question could come up.

you shrug.

"why is anyone with anyone," you smirk. trying to sound philosophical, while also dodging the question. josh just stares at you, not quite getting the sarcasm. you sigh. "to be honest, j? i couldn't tell you why." you admit. "i don't know that there's a reason... i just-," another sigh, collecting your thoughts now.

"i know he's not everyone's cup of tea," you start. "i know he's a lot for some people, i know people don't really get him, i know he can be scary at first..." you're practically rambling now. "i know he's got a staring habit," you tease, earning a laugh from josh, "yeah he definitely does. that shit is unsettling as hell," he admits and you laugh, nodding. "it one hundred percent is but- you'll get used to it i swear."

"really though, j, why is anyone with anyone," you circle back to your earlier point, once filled with sarcasm, now an actual question. "why are you with your girlfriend?" you counter, not trying to deflect, just... curious.

he shrugs. "makes me happy." he says matter-of-factly, "i don't know, she just... gets me." you smile. "exactly."

"is andrew a little... weird? absolutely he is. he's probably the strangest, most complicated person i've ever met but... when i'm with him? when it's just us? god, it's..." you try to find the words to describe how being with andrew makes you feel, but decide to use josh's own.

"he gets me," you say simply, "and i get him."

josh nods slowly, "i guess that's all you need, right? someone that gets you." you smile, "yeah it really is."

"what's all you need?" andrew asks as he emerges from the house, walking over to where you and josh sit on a couch by the pool.

"someone that gets you." you repeat, smiling at your boyfriend while he sits down beside you and drapes his arm across your shoulder. "kid was asking for relationship advice. told him all you need is someone that gets you. the rest will just... fall into place." you fill him in. it's not entirely a lie, but it's enough for andrew not to ask anymore questions.

"uh huh," andrew hums, "got my someone right here." he pulls you into him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. you smile.

for the first time, in this moment, josh thinks he might be understanding why you two are together.

#andrew cody your beautiful arms and overall strange aura have captivated me #like i said ive only watched two episodes so if this is super ooc forgive me i just had this idea and really needed to write this down!!!#pope cody #andrew pope cody #pope cody x reader #andrew pope cody x reader #andrew cody #andrew cody x reader #animal kingdom #pope cody drabble #pope cody blurb #animal kingdom x reader #shawn hatosy

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anniebeckcalla · 1 day ago

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white chocolate and raspberries

sweet gestures with bf!nct dream

(bf!nctdream x reader) ◦ ₊ NOT PROOFREAD! ◦ ₊WC! 1.3K ◦ ₊ CW! fluff, fluff, fluffety fluff.

masterlist | cafe | click here!

ღNOTE FROM C. It's time we had some happiness after the gloom of the recent smaus. (I'll get back to them though, they're fun to write!) I hope you enjoy this post, if took me a while to write!

haechan

“Stop wriggling, will you?” You put the eyeliner wand on the bathroom sink, rinsing your hands for the nth time. “There's more liner on my fingers than on your eyes!” Haechan shrugged. “Sorry, baby. I could hardly keep still when you're staring into my eyes like that.” He placed his hands on your waist, drawing you close. “Can't say I'm complaining, though.” Frowning, you cupped his face in your hands, meaning to reprove him. In response, he gazed up at you wordlessly. His eyes sparkled with what could only be awe and reverence; the ghost of a smile lingered on his mouth. “Forget it,” you sighed. “I can't ever stay mad at you.” “I know,” Haechan whispered back, closing his eyes as you leaned in closer to kiss him.

jaemin

You took a deep breath as you bit into the toasted cheese panini, your eyes closing to fully appreciate the sensation. The crisp bread merged perfectly with the creamy cheese; the salted butter sparked little bursts of flavour around your mouth with each chew. It was nothing short of perfection.

‘Click!’

You opened your eyes, lowering your sandwich to see Jaemin across the table. He was holding his camera up, smiling as his finger snapped away. “Not while I'm eating!” you flushed, hand hovering over your mouth. “I look awful!” Jaemin lowered his camera. “Sorry, y/n. You looked so happy just then, I just had to capture it.” He looked down at the tiny camera screen. “You look so beautiful, even while you're eating.” “Stop praising me,” you mumbled. “I mean it, y/n. You look good doing anything.” Jaemin put his camera away, reaching across the table for your hand. “If I didn't control myself, all my albums would be full with pictures of you.”

jeno

The fields and trees passed by in a blur as the train snaked across the lines at full speed. You loved the window seat, and now you were sat in one, you wanted to gaze out of the window and appreciate the scenery. However, the day had tired you out. The darkening sky and warmth of the train made it hard to keep your eyes open. “You're quiet for once,” Jeno remarked, looking up from his phone. “Normally, you'd be telling me to stop scrolling and look out of the window with you.” You didn't have the strength to reply. Instead, you gave a low ‘mm hm’. “Woah, you're really tired,” Jeno said.

There was a short silence.

“Do you, er—do you want to use my shoulder as a pillow?” he spoke up, his face reddening slightly. “I mean, you don't have to—”

You didn't need to be asked twice. You let your head rest on his shoulder, letting sleep overwhelm your mind. Jeno didn't pick his phone back up. Instead, he put his arm around your shoulders, gazing down at you with love and infatuation.

jisung

“Ready to go now, y/n?” Jisung turned around when you heard you on the stairs. A smile lit up his face when your eyes met, and he took your hand as your feet reached the floor. “I haven't done too much with this outfit, have I?” you winced. “I mean, we're only going to a house party.” Jisung shook his head. “Not at all, love. It's perfect.” He raised your wrist to his nose, inhaling your perfume. “What did you use? It smells lovely.” “Oh, just a bit of ‘La vie en rose,’” you replied, your ears burning as shyness overwhelmed you. Jisung pressed his lips to your wrist, eyes closed. “I'm so glad I get to call you mine,” he whispered, tickling your wrist. “Me too,” you whispered back, breathless with delight.

mark

The elevator always took forever to get to your apartment floor. It was annoying most days, but this evening, it marked a peaceful end to the commotion of your day at work. “Thank goodness for that,” you sighed into the stillness of the elevator as it began its descent. “Today aged me by at least 80 years.” Mark was gazing at you in the elevator mirror. “No,” he replied. “You look absolutely beautiful.” He stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. “We both look beautiful,” he whispered. He was right- you were both tired from the long day at work, and it had been a rough journey home, but you two still managed to look beauteous in the elevator mirror. “We complement each other perfectly, don't we?” you said, interlocking his hands with yours. “Too right we do,” Mark replied, pressing his lips on your cheek gently.

renjun

You were so deep in conversation with Renjun that you didn’t notice the bus coming to an stop, nor hear the voice of the person paying for their ticket. It was only when you felt eyes glaring at you from across the aisle that you finally turned your head to see your past in human form- your ex. He held your gaze, clearly enjoying how uncomfortabIe he still made you. “It's him, isn't it?” Renjun's voice was low as he took your hand in his, thumb caressing your knuckles. “Yes,” you whispered back, your breathing unsteady. “It's him.” “He won't hurt you, okay? I'm here,” Renjun said. “Don't even look at him. Just focus on me." You nodded, staring at his jumper. “Maybe we should walk the rest of the way,” you muttered. “Why should we?” Renjun replied. “We have more of a right to be here than he has.” You nodded, squeezing Renjun's hand in gratitude.

chenle

“Are you sure you're alright?” you shouted, fighting to be heard above the gale. You were protected from the rain by a flimsy umbrella that flapped about clumsily, but Chenle was exposed to the elements. He was drenched in rainwater, his shoes and clothes squelching with every step. The only part of him that stood a chance was his hand, that which he was using to hold the umbrella for you. “I'm fine, don't worry. There's only space for one under there,” he shouted back. You couldn't help staring at him in admiration. It was unfortunate about the rain, but he looked rather handsome with the rain running off his hair and face. His act of chivalry- letting you have the umbrella whilst holding it for you- made your heart beat an little faster. “I know this isn't a good time, but I love you,” you said. You almost thought he hadn't heard you, but then he turned to you, smiling. “I love you too,” he replied.

thank you for the comments and reblogs !! (　＾ω＾)

taglist: @cigsaftersuh @jenoleeaesthetic @pl4netx1a @jeonghansshitester @chenlezip @neodreamzenie @markkiatocafe @mejaemin (thank you so much everyone ღ)

#haechan x reader fluff #jaemin x reader fluff #jeno x reader fluff #mark x reader fluff #chenle x reader #jisung x reader #renjun x reader #nct dream fluff #nct dream drabbles #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #anniebeckcalla #fanfic #nct ff #fluff #writing #kpop ff #kpop fanfic #nct dream

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kino-der-infizierten · 2 days ago

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THEORY ABOUT BREAK ON THROUGH!!!

WARNING: MAJOR BLACK OPS COLD WAR + BLACK OPS 6 SPOILERS

While Break on Through is loading you can hear "Perseus" saying things to Bell

“Do not trust Adler. Adler is lying to you. Do not trust Adler. Do not listen to Adler. He is lying to you. Find the truth. He is lying to you. Do not trust Adler.”

Perseus' lines in Break on Through loading screen

We know that Bell was a commander (when selected non-binary/classified gender Perseus' operatives call Bell "commander" in Ashes to Ashes) and Perseus' right hand which means there's a high chance that they were very loyal to Perseus, at the point of not telling anything at any method of interrogation the CIA used.

But it would be impossible to actually be him, and even if he somehow could get into Bell's head literally, he still didn't had no reason to, Volkov tells Bell Perseus wanted them DEAD and that is stated MULTIPLE times. He clearly was unaware that Bell was brainwashed and didn't willingly betrayed him.

“That makes this much less unpleasant for you. Perseus has been looking for this one.”

“Perseus has a large bounty on your head.”

“Perseus is paying me a fortune to smuggle his merchandise out of Europe. I bet he’ll pay even more when he finds out I’ve killed you.”

Anton Volkov's lines when Bell gets captured by Franz Kraus in Brick in the Wall.

So then while replaying Break on Through over and over came the idea that maybe the Perseus we see it's actually Bell's mind trying to break out of the MK-ULTRA brainwash

Adler says more about the drug used in Bell in Black Ops 6 when preparing that same drug for Harrow

“Its official name is phenosorazine, but MK-Ultra coined it "Separation". I've had it for a while. Let's hope it doesn't have an expiration date.”

“In most test subjects, it fragmented their psyche. A form of induced schizophrenia. We're gonna find the part of Harrow that's willing to talk to us.”

Russell Adler explaining about the drug used in MK-ULTRA in The Rook: Interrogation (Black Ops 6)

Bell's mind could've separated his loyal part from the rest, which was ""personified"" as Perseus, just like Harrow has her normal side and the 'crazy'(?) side in Separation Anxiety.

This part of Bell wanted them to break out of the brainwashing, using the figure of Perseus because they would listen to the man they were loyal for so long.

And clearly it wasn't only in the Break on Through intro that Bell's loyal part tried to break the brainwashing.

During the mission it gets to a point you enter Perseus' office(?) and it's full of notes, possibly what Bell was thinking during the interrogation/brainwashing, with some being like Bell actually talking with themselves, while others looks like someone else talking with them, which would be his "Perseus" side (not putting all of them here):

"На кого они работают?" → Who do they work for?

"Кто они?" → Who are they?

"HE ДОВЕРЯТЬ НИКОМУ" → DON'T TRUST ANYONE

"не доверяй никому, кроме себя" → Trust no one but yourself

"ОСТАНОВИ ЭТО " → MAKE IT STOP

"ПЦРУ или КГБ?" → CIA or KGB?

"Они хотят убить тебя" → They want to kill you

"Вы знаете, что боль больше?" Do you know that there's more pain? (??)

"Что они с тобой Долают?" What are they doing to you?

"ВЫ Должны БОРЬБА" → You must FIGHT

"УБИРАЙСЯ" → GET OUT

"do you hear it?"

"DO NOT TRUST"

"THEY WANT TO KILL YOU"

"WHO ARE YOU?"

"TELL ME WHO I AM!"

"MAKE IT STOP"

"WHAT IS HAPPENING?"

"WHERE AM I?"

"WHY CAN'T YOU REMEMBER?"

"WHO IS PERSEUS?" [medusa drawing]

"YOU ARE GOING TO DIE HERE"

"DON'T TRUST ADLER" [pic of Adler]

"PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN"

TL;DR

The Perseus voice we hear in Break on Through is actually Bell's side that's still loyal to Perseus trying to break out from the brainwashing

#call of duty #cod #black ops cold war #black ops #bocw #bell cod #cod cold war #call of duty black ops #cod black ops 6 #black ops 6 #call of duty bo6 #cod bo6 #bo6 #cod russell adler #russell adler cod #russell adler

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zvahlne · 3 days ago

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hello everyone welcome to uh. welcome to my mixtape.

i posted about sharing/analyzing songs i associate with aphmau characters, and i'm starting off with one of my absolute all-time favorite songs for laurance:)

foreigner's god by hozier!! here is links if you wanna listen while you read: youtube / spotify

and now... i will tell you why... walk with me.... (this is going to be a long walk) (i have a lot to say about this one) (also i haven't gotten to season 2 in my rewatch yet but this is heavily based on how i feel about season 2. so i could be remembering some things wrong and i apologize for that...)

garroth sorry for borrowing you for my laurmau posting but i had to use this gif we're going on a walk please have mercy it's a really good gif

first just to get it out of the way

Screaming the name of a foreigner's god The purest expression of grief

she is irene [surprise pikachu]... i don't know what else to say about this. it is about the horror of falling in love with the divine (especially when you end up on the opposite end of divine through circumstance, for the divine) in our analysis today.

She moved with shameless wonder The perfect creature rarely seen Since some liar broke the thunder When the land was godless and free

"she moved with shameless wonder; the perfect creature rarely seen" he's thinking about aphmauuu... aphmau.... i love this for her. the "shameless wonder" reminds me a lot of early aphmau being absolutely goofy sometimes because jess was still playing it as minecraft ykwim? running around to attack random scorpions and having conversations with her dogs, getting excited over props in the villages she visited... yknow... shameless wonder. the shameless wonder of a gamer......

the second part just very much reminds me of the vibe of early minecraft diaries to me, it's a little hard for me to describe that. "when the land was godless" to me is like. you know aphmau/irene shenanigans. this song in my laurance playlist is a lot about the aphmau/irene shenanigans. i really wish i could explain this one better because it makes me FEEL THINGS but it's like. a vibe thing

Her eyes look sharp and steady Into the empty parts of me But still my heart is heavy With the hate of some other man's beliefs

her eyes.......

sorry what were we talking about

no but seriously i love this part for the specificity of "her eyes", because this is one of my favorite moments (this is from s2 ep 19 "her eyes" for those who aren't as laurmau-rotted as i am). "her eyes look sharp and steady into the empty parts of me" is so. it makes me so. when he comes back from the nether he's changed and he continues to change but she never looks away and that keeps him here. she doesn't turn away from him. she still sees him. but he's still empty. "but still my heart is heavy with the hate of some other man's beliefs" he's still a shadow knight, and he is still losing himself... "some other man" is the shadow lord/shad in this reading

Wondering who I copy Mustering some tender charm

^^^ laurance trying to be Normal all the while he is slowly losing himself... the experience of dying and coming back Wrong..... "wondering who i copy" being him thinking about who he was before he died in the nether. you don't come back from that the same guy unfortunately. you come back Wrong. no matter how hard you try to ignore it

my favorite part now !!!!

She feels no control of her body She feels no safety in my arms I've no language left to say it But all I do is quake to her Breaking if I try convey it The broken love I make to her

she feels no control of her body - both about the circumstances of the werewolf wedding specifically (because i am always there), but also about aphmau/irene stuff again to me

she feels no safety in my arms - laurance wants nothing more than to be aphmau's protector, to keep her safe, to make her feel safe, but how can he like this? how could she feel safe with a monster? is she safe around him? he wants that, he promises that, but is it true? laurance can't imagine she felt very safe around him at the wedding... or when he lost control of himself in scaleswind..... she feels no safety in his arms :(

i've no language left to say it, but all i do is quake to her - he used to bombard her with over-the-top flirtations, but now that he's really fallen for her, he stammers over his words. the weight of it is heavier. he loves her but suddenly that's too much to say. and --

breaking if i try convey it; the broken love i make to her - in his current state, his expression of this love is often twisted and aggressive (see: the werewolf wedding). but it's all he can give her, it's all he has left. their first kiss shouldn't have been what it was. she deserves better than that.

aand.. umm... yeah!! thanks for coming on this walk with me:) not all my lyricposting will be this long, this is just one i had a LOT to say about it and i wanted to put a little extra effort into the first lyricpost... hope you enjoyed !!

#zvahlne yaps #zvahlne lyrics #aphblr #aphmau #minecraft diaries #laurance zvahl #mcd #laurmau #BTW PRETTY SURE THAT YOU GET NOTIFS WHEN PEOPLE USE YOUR GIFS SO APOLOGIES TO THE PERSON WHO MADE THE GIF #IT'S A FANTASTIC GIF THOUGH I REALLY LIKE IT

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dreamersworldduh · 2 days ago

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BREWING OF FEELINGS

• SHAWN MENDES x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — When your best friend is practically family, you sign up for the good, the bad, and the completely ridiculous. You're their rock, their reality check, their safe place—no matter what. But nothing tests that bond quite like getting a wedding invitation... with your ex-fling on the guest list. That's the situation when Ella, your lifelong best friend, drops a letter that changes everything.

WARNING! FLUFF.

WORDS! 8.6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! None at the moment, I’m too tired—although this sort of a slow burn with a promising ending. So bare with our lovely couple, enjoy your reading.✨🫶🏽

PREVIOUS PART! —HOME, SWEET, HOME

THE SMELL of sizzling bacon and fresh pancakes filled the cabin as you moved effortlessly around the kitchen, your hands busy whisking eggs and flipping golden pancakes on the griddle. Cooking had always been second nature to you—a calming ritual that helped steady your mind, even on mornings like this.

The sound of the front door opening drew your attention briefly, followed by the unmistakable thud of sneakers being kicked off onto the wooden floor. Jake's voice rang out first, loud and cheerful. "Smells like heaven in here."

You didn't respond immediately, focusing instead on plating a stack of pancakes. But then you saw them out of the corner of your eye: Jake and Shawn, stepping into the kitchen, shirtless after an early morning run.

Jake moved with his usual ease, heading straight for the coffee maker without a second thought. But Shawn lingered near the doorway, just behind Jake, his chest still rising and falling from exertion. The faint sheen of sweat on his skin caught the morning light streaming through the windows, highlighting the sharp lines of muscle across his chest and stomach. His black running shorts clung low on his hips, the waistband of his underwear peeking out slightly. His damp hair was pushed back haphazardly, leaving a few strands falling forward.

Your eyes betrayed you, lingering for just a second too long before you forced them away. You turned back to the stove, flipping another pancake with deliberate indifference, the heat from the stove doing nothing to hide the faint warmth rising to your cheeks.

"Smells incredible," Jake said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "You're a lifesaver, man. We'd probably be eating protein bars all week without you."

"Figured someone should feed you," you replied evenly, cracking another egg into the bowl. Your tone was calm, but you felt your pulse quicken slightly when Shawn finally stepped fully into the kitchen, his presence commanding even without saying a word.

"Morning," Shawn said softly, his voice still a little hoarse from the run.

"Morning," you replied, keeping your eyes fixed on the stove as you reached for the spatula.

Jake took a long sip of his coffee and leaned against the counter, completely oblivious to the undercurrent in the room. "Seriously, man, you didn't have to do all this. We're spoiled."

"It's not a big deal," you said with a shrug, sliding another pancake onto the growing stack. "Just trying to keep everyone alive."

Jake laughed, turning toward Shawn. "See? This is why we keep him around. I told you he could cook."

Shawn smiled faintly, stepping closer to the counter but keeping a respectful distance. "It smells amazing," he said, his voice low.

You nodded curtly, still not looking directly at him. "Breakfast'll be ready in a few minutes."

Jake, clearly energized from the run, began rattling off a story about something funny that had happened outside, gesturing animatedly while Shawn listened, occasionally chiming in with a quiet laugh. You kept your focus on the food, pretending the room wasn't shrinking around you with every passing second.

But as you flipped the last pancake onto the plate and turned off the stove, you could feel Shawn's eyes on you—watching, waiting, like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how.

You exhaled slowly, picking up the plate of pancakes and turning to set it on the table. "Eat up before it gets cold," you said, your tone neutral, brushing past both of them as you moved to grab the bacon.

Jake clapped Shawn on the back. "Guess we earned it after that run, huh?"

Shawn didn't respond right away, his gaze flickering briefly toward you before he followed Jake to the table.

The sound of heavy footsteps thudding down the wooden stairs broke the growing tension in the kitchen. Lexie appeared in the doorway first, her hair a chaotic mess from sleep, her voice carrying its usual dramatic flair.

"Is that bacon I smell?" she called out, her eyes lighting up as she zeroed in on the kitchen. "I love you," she added, making a beeline for the coffee pot with zero hesitation.

"You only love me when there's bacon," you shot back, smirking despite yourself as you slid a fresh batch of crispy strips onto a plate.

"Accurate," she said unapologetically, pouring herself a generous cup of coffee. "But I'm not sorry."

Sophie was next, trailing sleepily behind with Nate and Matt close on her heels. Nate stretched his arms overhead with an exaggerated groan. "This smells like heaven," he said, his voice muffled by a yawn. "You've outdone yourself, Chef Extraordinaire."

"Breakfast royalty!" he added dramatically, throwing his arms up as he collapsed into a chair at the large wooden dining table. "We're not worthy."

You rolled your eyes at the theatrics but couldn't stop a small smile from tugging at the corners of your lips. "You're impossible," you muttered, grabbing a platter of pancakes and setting it down in the center of the table.

Matt clapped a hand on your shoulder as he passed, plopping into a chair with a grin. "Seriously, though, you're spoiling us. What's the catch? Do we owe you our firstborn or something?"

"Just your undying gratitude," you replied dryly, grabbing another plate of bacon and adding it to the growing feast on the table.

Sophie groaned appreciatively as she slid into a seat, grabbing a plate. "I could cry right now. You're a genius."

"Don't cry on the pancakes," you said, smirking as you handed her the syrup.

The table quickly filled with plates, silverware, and a steady stream of chatter. The group fell into an easy rhythm, teasing each other and passing around food as they woke up and came to life. Jake and Shawn joined the table, sliding seamlessly into the lively conversation as if the earlier tension had never existed.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to relax. The warmth of the morning sun streaming through the cabin windows, the smell of coffee and bacon, and the sound of your friends' laughter—it felt almost normal, almost easy. Almost like old times.

SHAWN SLID into the seat directly across from you, his movements unhurried but deliberate. The lively chatter of the group swirled around the table, a comfortable hum of teasing, laughter, and clinking plates. You focused on your own breakfast, carefully pouring syrup over your stack of pancakes, the golden liquid pooling on the plate. It was a simple task, but it gave you something to do other than acknowledge the occasional flicker of his gaze in your direction.

The quiet sound of his voice cut through the surrounding noise, soft and just loud enough for you to hear. "This is... really good," he said, almost hesitantly, as though testing the waters.

You glanced up, meeting his eyes for the briefest moment. There was something there—something you couldn't quite place. Gratitude? Nostalgia? Regret? Whatever it was, you didn't linger long enough to decipher it. Instead, you shrugged lightly, your voice even as you replied, "I've had practice."

His lips twitched, almost imperceptibly, into a faint smile. He opened his mouth as if to say more, but the conversation around the table shifted, cutting off whatever he'd been about to add.

"Alright, pancakes or bacon?" Matt declared, holding up a plate dramatically. "You can only pick one. Choose wisely."

"Pancakes," Lexie said without hesitation, snatching the plate from him. "Obviously."

"Wrong answer," Nate chimed in, shoveling a strip of bacon into his mouth. "Bacon for the win."

The table erupted into playful arguments about breakfast superiority, drawing everyone into the debate. You seized the moment, focusing back on your plate, though you could still feel Shawn's presence across from you. His gaze lingered for a second longer before he turned to join the conversation, letting the moment between you dissolve into the noise of the group.

But even as you pushed your fork through the soft stack of pancakes, you couldn't quite shake the feeling that Shawn's words—simple as they were—had carried a weight neither of you were ready to address. Not yet.

Ella cleared her throat with deliberate drama, rising halfway from her chair and clinking her spoon against her glass like she was officiating an important ceremony. The cheerful clatter of breakfast conversations faded as all eyes turned to her. She wore a mischievous grin, clearly relishing the attention.

"Okay, everyone! Since Jake and I are technically responsible adults now—" she paused as Lexie snorted into her coffee, causing a ripple of laughter around the table, "—we decided to plan some fun stuff for the week, so you all don't just sit around getting drunk and playing old-school Mario Kart like we're still in college."

"That feels like a direct attack," Nate said, raising a forkful of eggs with exaggerated mock offense. His expression drew another wave of laughter.

Ella grinned triumphantly. "It was."

Jake leaned forward from his seat beside her, resting his forearms on the table. "We figured, since we've got the whole week before the wedding, we'd mix it up a bit. Bring back some of the old traditions and maybe throw in a few new ones."

Lexie perked up, already intrigued, her coffee mug suspended mid-air. "Okay, but is this gonna be like that time you planned a 'fun hike' that turned into a five-hour death march in the middle of nowhere?"

Jake threw his hands up in mock surrender. "No extreme hikes this time. I swear. I've learned my lesson."

Ella smirked, pulling a neatly folded piece of paper from her pocket with a dramatic flourish. She flattened it on the table, smoothing out imaginary creases as though revealing some grand plan. "Alright, listen up! Here's what we've got lined up."

She began ticking off items with her finger. "Tonight, we're kicking things off with a bonfire by the lake—s'mores, drinks, stories... the whole nostalgic experience."

"Classic," Matt said, nodding in approval. "Perfect excuse to hear Nate's overly exaggerated camping disaster story for the hundredth time."

"I barely survived that trip," Nate shot back with mock indignation, earning another round of laughter.

Ella continued, undeterred by the group's antics. "Tomorrow, we've booked a boat rental for the entire day—sunbathing, tubing, swimming, and fishing, if that's your thing."

"Lake day, yes!" Sophie cheered, reaching across the table to high-five Lexie.

Jake leaned back in his chair with a grin. "And, since we know some people here thrive on competition..." His eyes flicked between you and Matt with a knowing smirk. "We've set up an old-school game tournament. Pool, darts, and, of course, Mario Kart."

The room broke into excited cheers and groans, the prospect of a heated throwback challenge clearly hitting the right notes.

"Hope you all like losing," Matt said confidently, stretching back in his chair with a self-assured grin. "I've only gotten better since college."

"You wish," you shot back, unable to resist a small smirk. "You still steer with the joystick like it's a spaceship."

"That's called precision," Matt replied with mock seriousness, setting off another round of laughter.

Ella tapped the table to bring the group's attention back, her grin widening. "Wait, wait—there's more!"

The chatter quieted, though you couldn't help but notice Shawn's gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary after your brief, unguarded laugh.

"Thursday night," Ella continued, her voice softening slightly, "we're having a special dinner—all of us together. Something nice, before things get crazy with wedding prep."

The table stilled for a moment, the mood turning thoughtful. You could feel the nostalgia settling over everyone, wrapping the group in a quiet understanding of just how much these moments meant. Ella's words carried a weight that wasn't lost on anyone.

"And Friday?" Sophie asked, breaking the silence.

"Friday's surprise night," Jake announced, his grin taking on a mischievous edge. "We've got something big planned to end the week right."

"Define 'big,'" Lexie said suspiciously. "Because the last time you said that, we ended up camping in a thunderstorm with no cell service."

Jake laughed. "Trust me. You'll love it."

Ella leaned forward slightly, her expression soft and genuine. "We just... we really wanted this week to be about us. All of us. It's been way too long since we've done something like this."

There was a chorus of murmured agreement, heads nodding around the table. Even the usual banter and teasing quieted for a beat, replaced by the unspoken understanding of how much these connections meant. You glanced around the group, seeing the same sentiment reflected in everyone's eyes: this wasn't just another trip—it was something more.

And then, like clockwork, Matt raised his coffee mug high, breaking the moment with his signature grin. "To surviving Ella and Jake's intense activity list."

Everyone laughed, lifting mugs, glasses, and utensils in a chaotic toast.

"To the best week ever!" Ella corrected, clinking her glass against Jake's with a beaming smile.

The group echoed her cheer, the lively energy returning as plans for the day unfolded. You found yourself glancing at Shawn again, catching his thoughtful gaze as he watched you from across the table. It felt like old times for a second—a glimpse of something unspoken, still lingering between you.

As the group burst into playful teasing about who would dominate Mario Kart and who would inevitably tip the canoe later, you couldn't help but feel the quiet tug of something bittersweet, nestled beneath the surface of the laughter.

Something that felt a lot like hope.

THE BONFIRE had burned down to a steady glow, its flames reduced to smoldering embers that pulsed with warmth, cutting through the crisp night air. The temperature had dropped, and the group huddled closer around the fire, blankets wrapped snugly around shoulders and mugs of whiskey or coffee cradled in chilled hands. Matt, in his usual animated fashion, was midway through yet another outrageous tale from his self-proclaimed "adventurous" past.

"So there I was," he declared dramatically, gesturing wildly, "face to face with a snarling beast."

Sophie, already laughing so hard she could barely breathe, interrupted, waving her hand for him to stop. "You did not wrestle a bear!" she wheezed, doubling over with laughter.

"I didn't say I wrestled it, I faced it," Matt countered indignantly, his grin betraying him. "And technically, it was more of a... large raccoon. But the principle is the same!"

The group dissolved into uncontrollable laughter, the kind that came easily after a few drinks and years of shared memories. Even Jake, usually the calm one, was wiping tears from his eyes.

As the laughter ebbed, Ella leaned forward, her eyes glinting with mischief in the firelight. "Okay, okay. Enough about Matt's epic battles with wildlife. Let's do something real."

Lexie groaned loudly, leaning back in her chair. "If this is another one of your 'deep bonding moments,' I'm leaving."

"It's not bonding," Ella insisted, rolling her eyes, though her grin suggested otherwise. "I just think it's time to play Remember When. You have to share one memory from high school or college—something that still makes you smile. No dodging, no cop-outs."

The group exchanged wary but intrigued glances. There were a few groans, but nobody outright protested.

Jake went first, raising his hand like a kid in a classroom. "Alright. Remember that summer when Matt and I decided we could build a raft out of pool noodles?"

"Oh, God," Lexie groaned, already laughing.

"And we definitely thought it would float!" Jake continued, grinning. "Except it didn't even make it halfway across the lake before it started sinking."

"It was engineering genius," Matt interjected proudly. "We just needed more noodles."

"And maybe basic knowledge of buoyancy," Sophie quipped, earning another round of laughter.

Next, Sophie chimed in with her own story, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Lexie and I crashed that homecoming dance junior year—remember that? We weren't even invited, so we pretended to be catering staff to sneak in."

"I still have the pictures!" Lexie added, cackling. "I looked ridiculous holding a tray of fake hors d'oeuvres."

The laughter came easily, rippling through the circle, but when it was your turn, the group fell quiet, their attention shifting to you.

You hesitated, staring into the glowing embers. The memories swirled in your mind like the sparks drifting skyward, so vivid you could almost feel the summer heat on your skin, hear the sound of distant waves lapping against the dock.

"I..." you began, your voice soft, "remember the first summer after high school. We all snuck onto the old dock by the lake at midnight. Just... lying there, staring up at the stars."

The group stilled, their faces reflecting the same wistful warmth that flickered in the firelight.

"We talked about everything," you continued, your voice growing steadier. "About what life would be like when we 'grew up.' About the things we wanted, the places we'd go." A faint smile touched your lips. "It felt like nothing would ever change."

A quiet hum of nostalgia settled over the group. Heads nodded slowly, smiles tugged at lips, but no one spoke. The memory was shared by all of you—a moment frozen in time, perfect in its simplicity.

"I thought," you added softly, your gaze dropping to the fire, "that things would always stay the same."

The air grew still, heavy with the weight of what had been and what had changed. The only sounds were the crackling fire and the distant rustle of trees swaying in the cool night breeze.

Across the fire, Shawn's eyes found yours. They were steady, unguarded, carrying a familiar intensity that made your breath hitch. His gaze held something unspoken, a flicker of shared memory that tethered you both to that long-ago night. For a moment, the world around you faded, leaving only the soft glow of embers and the weight of the history still pulsing between you.

The spell was broken when Lexie clapped her hands together loudly, her voice cutting through the stillness. "Alright, enough feelings. Someone pass the whiskey before this gets too sentimental."

The group laughed, the tension dissolving as quickly as it had formed. Matt eagerly reached for the bottle, making a joke about how Lexie always killed the mood.

As the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, your heart was still pounding. You tightened the blanket around your shoulders, your mind lingering on the memories and the way Shawn had looked at you—as though those moments hadn't just been a memory for him either.

The quiet ripples of the lake mirrored the ones inside you, soft but insistent, refusing to settle.

THE SUN blazed high in the sky, its golden rays casting sparkling reflections across the vast, mirror-like surface of Lake Marigold. The air was warm, laced with the crisp scent of pine and sunscreen, while a soft breeze rippled through the water, carrying bursts of laughter from your group. Ella and Jake had delivered on their promise of a perfect lake day with the old but reliable pontoon boat they'd rented—a roomy, slightly weathered vessel equipped with a cooler packed with drinks, inflatable water floats, and a Bluetooth speaker blasting a nostalgic playlist from your teenage years.

You stood at the edge of the boat, leaning casually against the side rail, the occasional cool spray from the lake refreshing against your sun-warmed skin. You wore your favorite swim shorts and a lightweight tank top, though the heat was quickly convincing you to shed the layer. The boat swayed gently, its rocking motion soothing, as if the lake itself was welcoming you back to simpler times.

"Cannonball competition!" Matt's voice rang out from the rear of the boat, shattering the relative calm. He launched himself off the deck with a dramatic leap, his arms flailing for effect before he plunged into the water, sending up a towering splash. The spray drenched everyone nearby, including Lexie, who squealed before holding up an imaginary scorecard.

"Ten out of ten for the splash," she called, lounging on one of the padded deck chairs with her sunglasses perched on her nose and a drink in hand. "Minus points for the form, though."

"You're all critics!" Matt yelled back from the water, grinning as he splashed toward the ladder.

Beside you, Nate appeared, his hair still dripping from his last jump. He leaned casually on the railing, his grin as wide as the lake. "You in?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

You laughed, shaking your head. "I'm saving my energy for tubing. You're going down later."

"Oh, that's how it's gonna be?" Nate teased, leaning in closer, his voice dropping mock-seriously. "Better back that up, because I'm not letting go of that tube until I win."

"Hope you've been working on your upper body strength," you shot back, nudging him playfully with your elbow.

Before you could react, Nate's grin turned wicked, and his hand shot out to grab your wrist. "Or maybe I'll just take you down now."

"Nate—don't—!" you protested, laughing as you tried to pull free. But he was faster, and with a firm tug, he yanked you toward the edge. You tumbled together into the lake, the water wrapping around you in a cool, shocking embrace.

You surfaced with a gasp, brushing water from your face just in time to see Nate grinning triumphantly. "Told you!" he said, holding his arms up in mock victory.

"Payback's coming," you shot back, launching yourself toward him with a splash that sent him flailing. The laughter between you was easy, uninhibited, like the kind you hadn't felt in a long time.

From the boat, Shawn watched quietly. He stood near the railing, one arm resting casually against it while his other hand held a water bottle. His black swim trunks clung to him, and his hair was damp from an earlier swim, curling slightly at the ends. He hadn't said much all day, but his eyes stayed on you now, following the way you laughed and splashed with Nate like nothing else in the world mattered. His gaze was thoughtful, almost wistful, as if trying to decipher the person you'd become in the years since.

When you finally climbed back onboard, breathless and dripping wet, you tugged off your soaked tank top and tossed it onto an empty chair. The sun warmed your skin as you grabbed a cold drink from the cooler, and that's when Shawn saw it.

The tattoo.

A delicate stream of black-inked butterflies trailed gracefully down the side of your neck and shoulder, each one unique, their wings intricate and fluid. Interspersed among them were faint words in elegant, flowing script:

"Learn to love yourself first."

Shawn's gaze lingered, tracing the path of the ink like it was a secret waiting to be unraveled. He remembered you mentioning once, long ago, that you wanted a tattoo, though you'd never said what or when. Seeing it now—seeing you now, bold and unapologetically yourself—hit him in a way he wasn't prepared for.

Lexie, sprawled in her chair, noticed the tattoo first. "Damn!" she called out, lifting her sunglasses to get a better look. "When did that happen?"

You glanced over your shoulder, absently brushing your fingers over the ink. "Couple years ago," you said, your voice casual but distant. "It was... something I needed at the time."

"It's gorgeous," Lexie said sincerely, raising her drink in a mock toast. "Good choice."

Before you could respond, Shawn spoke, his voice low but clear. "It's... beautiful."

The sincerity in his tone made you pause. You turned to meet his gaze, and for a moment, something unreadable passed between you. His eyes were steady, full of quiet admiration and something deeper, something unspoken.

"Thanks," you said softly, holding his gaze a second longer than you intended before Nate called your name from the front of the boat, waving you over to help with the tube.

You nodded and turned away, leaving Shawn standing by the railing, his thoughts visibly racing as he watched you walk off.

The day carried on with wild tubing rides, splash wars, and sun-soaked moments that would become the kind of memories you'd talk about years later. But for Shawn, the image of your tattoo lingered in his mind—a symbol of how much you'd changed, grown, and healed.

And it reminded him of how much he still wanted to be a part of your life.

THE SUN had begun its slow descent, casting golden light over the lake and softening the edges of the world around you. The group had settled into quieter activities—some lounging on the boat's deck, others lazily floating on inflatable tubes tethered nearby. The energy from earlier had simmered down, leaving behind a calm, reflective atmosphere.

You had slipped away from the group, finding a quiet spot on the pontoon's rear deck. Sitting on the edge with your legs dangling just above the water, you trailed your fingers lazily through the cool surface. The rhythmic lapping of the waves against the boat was soothing, a moment of peace you hadn't realized you needed.

Footsteps on the deck behind you made you glance back. Shawn stood there, his hands stuffed awkwardly into the pockets of his swim trunks. His damp hair was slightly tousled by the breeze, and the sunlight caught on the droplets of water clinging to his skin, giving him a golden glow. For a moment, he just stood there, his expression hesitant, almost cautious.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice carrying easily in the quiet.

You turned back to the water. "Hey."

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, stepping closer.

You hesitated, considering your answer. Part of you wanted to stay in this moment of solitude, free from the complexities his presence always seemed to bring. But before you could think better of it, you shrugged. "Sure."

Shawn sat down beside you, mirroring your position with his legs dangling over the edge. For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but it wasn't easy either. It was weighted, heavy with everything unspoken between you.

He finally broke the silence, his voice quiet but steady. "I've been meaning to ask... how's life been? Since, you know... high school."

You didn't answer right away, your fingers skimming the water as you watched ripples expand and fade into the lake. "It's been... a lot," you said finally, your tone careful.

Shawn nodded, as though he'd expected the vagueness. "I figured," he said softly. "I mean, with everything you've done... the way everyone talks about you now. It's incredible."

You let out a faint, humorless laugh, glancing sideways at him. "Yeah, it's been great. Busy. A whirlwind." You paused, your voice dropping slightly. "But not always as perfect as it might look."

Shawn's expression softened, and he leaned back on his hands, his eyes scanning your face. "I get that," he said. "Sometimes it's easier to just... keep moving forward. Makes it harder for people to see what's really going on."

You turned your gaze back to the lake, the truth of his words hitting closer than you liked. "Yeah. Something like that."

There was another pause, longer this time. Shawn shifted slightly, his movements careful, like he was testing the waters of a conversation he wasn't sure you wanted to have.

"You've... changed," he said finally, his tone thoughtful. "Not in a bad way. You just seem... stronger. Like you've figured things out."

You gave a faint smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes. "Figuring things out is a process. I think I'm still in it."

"Your tattoo," he said, his voice almost hesitant. "It's beautiful. And it feels like it says a lot about what you've been through."

You stiffened slightly, surprised at how easily he'd read the meaning behind it. "Yeah," you said after a moment, your voice softer now. "It's a reminder. For me, mostly."

Shawn nodded, his gaze dropping to his hands. He seemed to weigh his next words carefully before speaking. "I've thought about you, you know. Over the years. Wondered how you were. What you were doing."

You glanced at him, catching the faint vulnerability in his expression. It was disarming, and for a moment, the guarded wall you'd built felt less solid.

"I wasn't sure you would've cared," you admitted, your tone sharper than you intended. "You didn't exactly... make it easy to think otherwise."

Shawn flinched slightly, but he didn't look away. "I know," he said, his voice laced with regret. "I made a lot of mistakes. Hurt you in ways I didn't understand back then. I was stupid and scared."

You swallowed hard, the old wounds he was touching on still raw in some places. "Yeah, well, we were kids," you said, your tone deliberately detached. "It's all ancient history now."

Shawn opened his mouth as if to argue, but then he stopped, his jaw tightening briefly before he spoke again. "Maybe it is," he said quietly. "But I still wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. For everything."

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with sincerity. You didn't know how to respond, so you didn't. Instead, you focused on the way the water glimmered in the late-afternoon sun, the ripples from the boat spreading out endlessly into the lake.

After a long moment, you finally said, your voice softer now, "I'm glad you asked how I've been. I think... I think I'm okay now. Most of the time."

Shawn's gaze flicked to you again, and for the first time, you saw something in his eyes that looked like hope. "I'm glad," he said, his voice quiet but warm.

The conversation drifted back into silence, but it felt lighter this time, less burdened. For now, it was enough.

THE CABIN had settled into an almost eerie calm, a sharp contrast to the earlier chaos. The living room bore the evidence of the group's gaming marathon—empty snack bowls balanced precariously on the edges of tables, half-finished drinks scattered across every available surface, and a few abandoned controllers lying in a tangled mess near the TV. Jake had claimed the crown of Mario Kart champion after a nail-biting final race against Matt, and the cheers and laughter that followed had felt like stepping back in time.

Now, the energy had drained from the space, leaving it quieter than it had been all day. One by one, the group had drifted off, retreating to their rooms with groans about sore muscles and heavy eyelids. The day's adventures—tubing, fishing, and far too much competitive gaming—had taken their toll.

You lingered behind, moving through the room with quiet purpose. You grabbed stray cups and empty cans, stacking them carefully before ferrying them to the kitchen. A throw blanket, half-slid off the leather couch, caught your eye, and you tossed it back into place, smoothing it out instinctively. The act of tidying, of restoring some sense of order to the space, felt grounding after the lively chaos of the evening.

The cabin creaked softly as you made your way down the dimly lit hallway toward the shared bathroom near your room. The faint scent of pine and lingering smoke from the earlier bonfire seemed to cling to the walls. You pulled your shirt over your head as you walked, the fabric sticking slightly from the long, active day. The promise of a hot shower was irresistible, a reward for the ache in your shoulders and the slight sunburn prickling at the back of your neck.

The bathroom was small but cozy, its wooden walls lined with hooks for towels and a small shelf cluttered with travel-sized toiletries. You turned on the shower, the old pipes groaning for a moment before the water began to flow. Steam quickly filled the space, curling around you and fogging up the mirror. The heat was immediate, soothing, as you stepped under the powerful spray, letting the water cascade over you.

The tension of the day began to dissolve as the water worked its way over your skin, washing away sunscreen, sweat, and the faint smell of lake water. You closed your eyes, tilting your head back, and let the steady rhythm of the droplets drown out everything else—the laughter, the noise, the subtle undercurrents of tension that had woven through the day.

For a few minutes, it was just you, the warmth of the water, and the comforting hum of the cabin settling into the night. The outside world faded away, leaving behind nothing but steam and the quiet sanctuary of the moment.

Meanwhile Shawn wandered down the dim hallway, the cabin unusually quiet after the day's lively energy. He was still sipping the last of his water, the coolness a welcome contrast to the warmth lingering in the house. The day had been long and full, but his mind kept drifting back to you—the way you'd laughed with Nate on the lake, the easy way you'd shared memories during the gaming marathon, and especially the conversation you'd had earlier on the boat.

He hadn't expected to feel so at ease with you again. The years between you, the mistakes, the regret—they'd weighed heavy on him for so long. But talking to you about your career, your tattoo, the way you seemed more confident and self-assured than ever, had stirred something deep in his chest. A mix of admiration, nostalgia, and something else he didn't quite have the words for.

The hallway creaked softly under his bare feet as he moved toward his room, the glass of water dangling loosely in his hand. As he passed the shared bathroom, the faint sound of running water registered in the back of his mind. For a moment, he thought it was the old pipes acting up, or maybe someone had forgotten to turn off the shower entirely.

He glanced at the light streaming under the door, assuming the room was empty. It wasn't unusual for someone to leave a light on in their rush to bed after a day like this. Without a second thought, he reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

The warm rush of steam hit him first, curling outward as the door swung wide enough to give him a clear view inside. His mind caught up a moment too late, his eyes taking in the figure standing under the shower spray, the glass door slightly frosted but not enough to obscure you entirely.

Shawn froze, the glass of water slipping slightly in his grip as his heart lurched into his throat. His first instinct was to look away, to backpedal, to somehow undo the mistake he'd just made. "Shit—sorry!" he blurted out, his voice sharp but laced with panic.

You spun toward the door, your hands instinctively reaching to shield yourself as best you could. "Shawn?!" Your voice was equal parts shock and mortification, the heat of the water now nothing compared to the burning rush of embarrassment flooding through you.

"I—I didn't know you were in here!" Shawn stammered, his face going red as he immediately turned away, his hand gripping the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping him from bolting. "I thought the light was just left on, I swear!"

"Get out!" you shouted, your voice muffled slightly by the sound of the shower spray

"I'm going! I'm going!" he said quickly, fumbling to pull the door closed behind him. The steam seemed to follow him as he stumbled back into the hallway, his pulse racing and his mind scrambling to process what had just happened.

Shawn stood there for a moment, the coolness of the hallway doing little to calm the heat in his cheeks. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

Back inside the bathroom, you turned the water off with a sharp twist, the moment replaying in your head as you grabbed for a towel. Your heart was pounding, equal parts anger and humiliation swirling in your chest.

Shawn lingered outside the bathroom for a second longer, debating whether to say something or retreat entirely. But when he heard the sharp click of the shower turning off, he quickly made his decision, heading straight for his room without another glance back.

Whatever peace the night had held for either of you was long gone.

THE MORNING sun bathed the cobblestone street in a soft golden light, casting long shadows from the quaint storefronts that lined both sides. The group strolled together, their energy still buoyed by the lingering high of the week's adventures. The laughter and banter from the past few days seemed to follow you like a warm breeze, wrapping everyone in an easy camaraderie.

Lexie was darting in and out of shops, her enthusiasm infectious as she called out to Sophie, who trailed behind her with a resigned but amused grin. Every so often, Lexie would burst out with an exclamation—something about a vintage jacket or a ridiculous souvenir—and Sophie would groan playfully, shaking her head before following her friend inside.

Up ahead, Jake and Matt were locked in a lively debate, their voices carrying easily over the cobblestones. They were animatedly arguing about which old diner in town had served the best burgers during your teenage years. Jake was gesturing emphatically toward one corner of the street, while Matt shook his head, pointing in the opposite direction.

"You're insane if you think Charlie's had better fries!" Jake said, his tone incredulous.

"Charlie's fries were soggy half the time," Matt retorted. "Now, Mel's—that was perfection. Crisp, golden, and they gave you free refills on ketchup."

"You're basing your entire argument on ketchup?" Jake groaned, throwing his hands in the air. "I can't with you."

You walked a few steps behind them, laughing softly at their exchange but keeping mostly to yourself. The morning air was cool against your skin, and the quiet rhythm of your steps on the uneven stones grounded you as your thoughts wandered.

Shawn lingered toward the back of the group, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his denim jacket. His gaze moved over the street, the bustling shops, the familiar faces of your friends—but it always seemed to drift back to you. He walked with an easy, unhurried stride, but his thoughts were anything but calm.

He couldn't stop thinking about the night before—the moment in the bathroom that had caught both of you off guard. He'd felt a rush of embarrassment, of course, but beneath it, something else had stirred. In that fleeting, awkward moment, he'd felt the weight of how familiar you still seemed, even after all the time and distance that had stretched between you. It wasn't just the sight of you—it was the way you moved, the way you'd reacted, the way you'd looked at him, even in anger and shock. It had stayed with him, replaying in his mind long after he'd retreated to his room.

Now, as he watched you from a few steps behind, he felt the same pull, the same sense of gravity that had always drawn him to you. He wanted to say something, to bridge the gap that still felt so wide between you despite the small steps you'd taken back toward each other this week. But every time he opened his mouth, the words wouldn't come.

You glanced back briefly, catching his eye. For a moment, neither of you looked away, the world around you seeming to blur as the connection between you crackled like a live wire. Shawn's lips parted slightly, like he might finally say something, but then you turned back toward the group, leaving the moment suspended in the air.

"Hey!" Lexie's voice rang out, breaking the spell as she burst out of another shop, waving something in the air. "Look at this ridiculous hat!" She planted it on her head—a wide-brimmed monstrosity with fake flowers—and struck a dramatic pose, sending the group into peals of laughter.

"Perfect," Matt said, grinning as he gave her a thumbs-up. "That's exactly the vibe we're going for."

Shawn smiled faintly at the exchange but remained quiet, his attention still half-fixed on you. He wondered how long he could keep holding back, how many more moments he'd let slip away before he finally found the courage to tell you what was on his mind.

The cobblestone street felt alive with memories as you walked beside Nate, pointing out the old record store just a few doors down. The shop's faded sign and scuffed window displays were exactly as you remembered, a nostalgic throwback to teenage afternoons spent flipping through vinyl and saving up for limited-edition releases. Nate grinned as you shared a quick story about an epic argument with Lexie over who got the last copy of a rare album, the kind of playful bickering that had defined your group back then.

But mid-sentence, you faltered, your words trailing off as your attention snagged on a familiar pair across the street.

Caroline and James Whitmore.

Caroline stood in front of a boutique that practically screamed exclusivity, its polished windows and pristine displays a perfect match for her perfectly curated appearance. She adjusted her designer sunglasses with the precision of someone who wanted to be noticed, her posture straight and commanding like she was posing for the cover of a fashion magazine. Even from across the street, you could feel her air of superiority—the kind that had been her trademark since high school.

Her sharp gaze scanned the street lazily, as if she owned it. When her eyes landed briefly on your group, her expression barely changed. There was no recognition, no warmth, just a flicker of disinterest before she turned away, dismissing you all like you were background noise in her perfectly crafted world.

But it wasn't Caroline who really held your attention—it was the person beside her.

James Whitmore stood casually next to her, a takeout coffee in one hand and an easy smile on his face as he chatted with the shopkeeper in front of him. He was tall, with the same striking features as his sister, but that was where the similarities ended. James radiated warmth and charm, his relaxed demeanor a sharp contrast to Caroline's icy poise. While Caroline looked like she could cut someone down with a single glance, James had always been approachable, down-to-earth, and, well... genuinely likable.

Your memories of James were mostly positive—moments of easy conversation and unexpected kindness that had stood out in the whirlwind of high school drama. He'd been one of the few people in Caroline's orbit who didn't seem to care about wealth or status, a refreshing anomaly in a world that often felt dominated by people like her.

Nate followed your gaze, his expression shifting when he spotted them. "Wow," he said under his breath. "Caroline Whitmore in the wild. I thought she only existed in penthouses and glossy magazines."

You snorted, your lips quirking into a half-smile. "Guess even royalty needs a coffee break."

"James is still around too, huh?" Nate added, nodding toward him. "Man, I actually liked that guy. What's he doing hanging out with her again?"

"They're siblings," you pointed out, shrugging. "Even nice people have baggage."

Nate laughed at that, but his attention soon shifted back to your group, leaving you with your thoughts. Your eyes lingered on James for a moment longer, noting the way he laughed easily at something the shopkeeper said. It was strange—seeing him and Caroline together, the stark contrast between them as vivid as ever.

You turned back to Nate, brushing off the encounter with a casual air. "Come on," you said, nodding toward the record store. "I want to see if they still have that hidden section in the back."

But as you walked away, you couldn't shake the feeling that the Whitmores' sudden appearance was more than just a coincidence. Something about it stirred old memories, old tensions. And while James had always been a pleasant surprise, Caroline was a reminder that some things—and some people—never really changed.

THE DOOR of the record store swung shut behind you, the small bell above it jingling softly as your group stepped out onto the sunlit cobblestone street. You were still laughing at something Nate had said, your arms laden with a few choice finds from the store, when you turned the corner and almost collided head-on with a familiar face.

"Hey!" James Whitmore's voice rang out, warm and unmistakable. He crossed the street toward you with long, confident strides, his hazel eyes sparkling in the sunlight. His easy smile widened as he approached, and for a moment, it was like no time had passed at all.

"I thought that was you guys!" he said, his tone infused with genuine excitement.

Your steps faltered, caught off guard by the unexpected encounter. But as James stopped in front of you, his presence as charming and down-to-earth as ever, you couldn't help but feel yourself relax.

"Back in town, huh? For Ella and Jake's wedding?" he asked, looking at you with the same sincerity that had always set him apart from his sister.

"Yeah," you replied, nodding. "It's been a while."

"Way too long," he said, his gaze lingering on you. There was a warmth in his expression, something genuine that made your stomach flutter unexpectedly. "You look... good."

"Thanks," you said, feeling a faint blush creep up your neck. Before you could respond further, the sharp click of heels on cobblestones interrupted the moment.

"Oh. You people," came a familiar, disdainful voice. Caroline Whitmore stood a few steps away, her arms crossed and her sharp eyes narrowing behind oversized designer sunglasses. Her glossy hair shimmered in the sunlight as she flipped it over one shoulder with dramatic precision.

Caroline's voice dripped with condescension as she continued. "Didn't know they let tourists loiter downtown now."

Behind you, Matt let out a theatrical sigh. "Still a delight, Caroline," he deadpanned, earning stifled laughs from Lexie and Sophie.

Caroline's eyes darted to Matt, her expression as icy as ever, but she didn't dignify him with a response. Instead, she turned her attention back to James, her patience clearly wearing thin. "James," she said sharply, her tone carrying an air of authority, "Mother wanted you back ten minutes ago."

James didn't even glance her way, waving her off with a casual flick of his wrist. "Tell her I'm busy."

Caroline's mouth opened, likely to protest, but she seemed to think better of it. With a dramatic huff, she spun on her heel, her expensive heels clicking loudly against the cobblestones as she strutted back across the street.

"Good talk," Matt called after her, earning another laugh from Lexie.

James chuckled, shaking his head. "She hasn't changed a bit."

"Some things never do," you quipped, a grin tugging at your lips.

James laughed softly, his attention returning to you. "It's good seeing you again," he said, his tone quieter now, almost thoughtful.

"Yeah," you replied, matching his tone. "You too."

From a few steps away, Shawn lingered in the shadows of the moment, his hands stuffed tightly into the pockets of his denim jacket. His jaw tightened as he watched the interaction unfold, his gaze fixed on James. The easy way James leaned in, laughing at something you said, his hand briefly brushing yours—it was effortless, familiar, and far too comfortable for Shawn's liking.

Shawn's lips pressed into a thin line, his narrowed eyes betraying the practiced indifference he was trying so hard to maintain. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as though the movement could somehow shake off the tension building in his chest.

Lexie appeared beside him like a wisp of smoke, silent and sharp-eyed. She tilted her head toward you and James, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. "You're staring," she said quietly, her voice low enough not to draw attention but loud enough to needle him.

"I'm not," Shawn muttered, his voice clipped as he tore his gaze away, focusing instead on a crack in the cobblestones beneath his feet.

"Uh-huh. Sure," Lexie replied, her tone dripping with amused disbelief. She folded her arms, leaning closer. "He's very charming, isn't he?"

Shawn's jaw clenched visibly, the muscle twitching. "He's fine," he said flatly, his voice devoid of conviction.

Lexie laughed softly under her breath, a sound that was more perceptive than mocking. "Relax," she said. "It's just James. They've always been friends."

"Good friends," Shawn muttered before he could stop himself, the edge in his voice cutting through the quiet. His eyes flicked back to James, who was now lightly touching your shoulder as he spoke. The gesture was casual, innocent even, but it burned in Shawn's chest like a live ember.

Lexie's smirk faded, replaced by something softer, more thoughtful. She studied him for a moment, her perceptive gaze seeing far more than he was comfortable admitting. "You know," she said finally, her voice dropping, "if this is bothering you, maybe you should figure out why."

Shawn's jaw tightened further, but he didn't respond. He didn't need to—Lexie's point had already landed.

Before either of them could say more, James called over, his voice warm and inviting. "Hey, you guys coming to the brewery later? They're doing live music tonight."

"Absolutely!" Matt answered instantly, his enthusiasm cutting through any lingering tension. "We're so there."

James grinned, his hazel eyes flicking back to you. "Hope I'll see you there," he said, his tone meant just for you.

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze but nodded, your smile easy and genuine. "Wouldn't miss it," you replied.

As James crossed back to the boutique, you watched him go, the exchange leaving you with a pleasant warmth. Talking to him had been effortless, like stepping into a time capsule of simpler days. It felt good—comfortable in a way you hadn't realized you'd missed.

Shawn, however, remained rooted beside Lexie, his posture rigid. His heart pounded with a mix of jealousy, regret, and something far more complicated than he was ready to name. His eyes flicked to you again, catching the faint smile lingering on your face as you turned back toward the group.

"See you tonight," you said, your voice carrying easily as you addressed the group—but your gaze lingered on Shawn just a moment longer. His expression was hard to read, the tension in his shoulders unmistakable, and you couldn't help but wonder what, exactly, was running through his mind.

#gay #shawn mendes #shawn mendes x male reader #fluff #x male reader

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