#and I believe unpleasant old people deserve care too

[goblins-and-gloves]

If you take care of all your siblings one day your hard work will be rewarded and you will get to take care of your parents and grandparents too.

[temis-de-leon]

Gn!MC with tactile hypersensitivity

Characters: Mammon, Asmodeus, Belphegor and Barbatos (x reader, separately; could be read as romantic or platonic)

Main Masterlist

Anon request: Hello! May I request maybe a Gn!reader who has oversensitivity to like textures with the demon brothers? Or the side dateables? Like certain fabrics with mess with them more and work the reader up? If they touch like rough textures they tend to scratch at the skin as it feels irritated. I don’t really know how to explain it as I suck with words but I have the problem a lot.

.

Mammon

Another reason for him to believe humans are weird and over-sensitive.

Not only you can’t stand too high or low temperatures, but also certain Devildom foods, books and critters; and now a 35% wool jumper?

He swears babysitting a child is easier than taking care of you and acts really mean about it, but everyone can tell it’s just his way of hiding how worried he is about you.

The first thing he notices is the fidgeting, although that would’ve been obvious even to a blind man. You squirm in your classroom seat, still unused to your brand-new uniform, and mindlessly scratch the skin under the collar and the seams until it’s red.

Mammon can only watch in a stupor as you kneel in front of the bathtub when you return home to soak the clothes in fabric softener.

But the jumper.

You jump at the contact, like it electrifies you, and then stare at it with undisguised discomfort, never touching It ever again.

That 60% polyester and 5% elastane are enough for him to swallow his pride and ignore his embarrassment, letting his affection for you show as time goes by.

The bond between you grows faster than anyone could’ve ever anticipated, so it’s not strange for you to find some of his belongings in your room. A spare charger, a toothbrush, his sunglasses case, a nail polish bottle… Small things.

However, not long passes until those small things evolve into something permanent with deeper intentions, like an unopened bottle of Devilish No. 5 or one of his beloved leather jackets.

It also doesn’t feel that weird anymore, now that you know him better, whenever he insists on you wearing the clothes he leaves there.

Not like you’re going to complain. Everything he has is of good quality, soft under your touch, and durable.

But don’t go babbling out that he’s doing this for you! He was just cleaning his wardrobe, that’s all!

Asmo

Going shopping with you feels like getting a gift wrapped in glitter and laced ribbons; he can’t get enough of it. And lately, it’s been even better than that because now you are the one asking him to go together.

He has nothing against your style, even if he would still modify it a little bit to perfectly match his, but he enjoys grabbing your arm and taking you to different stores, choosing a wild variety of items for you to try and, if you’re up to it, get out of your comfort zone.

That’s how he discovers your problem.

No matter what he chooses, you always consider it way longer than anyone else would ever do, including him; reading the tags to check the fabric’s materials and sometimes even not touching the item at all.

You tell him it’s because of the texture and how it feels to the touch, unpleasant and irritating, and while he doesn’t understand the sensation in its entirety, Asmo gets how certain types of clothes can cause aversion.

One of the most important things for him is feeling comfortable in what you are and what you’re wearing and no one in all the realms deserves that more than you, so he is already helping before being asked to.

As superficial as he seems sometimes, he is also extremely generous to the people he loves, and he happens to love you a gigantic ton.

Just tell him what type of fabric triggers you so he can avoid those while shopping; it’s like they don’t exist in the same world as you anymore.

Belphie

One moment he’s peacefully sleeping in the attic, his whole body sprawled over yours and an old blanket covering both, and the next he’s waking up alone and cold. The blanket is useless without you.

He thought you were mad at him, cue him trailing behind you with a confused and offended stare for the next few hours.

Why did you leave without telling him? Why did you leave at all, to begin with?

Oh, you’re not mad? Then come back!

You need to expressively tell him what the problem is or else he will drag you to bed again and pass out on top of or next to you.

Thankfully, his clothes are not the issue and he can still wear them comfortably while cuddling you at the same time. The blanket, however, is another story.

It’s been used for longer than you’ve probably been alive and the wool is pilled beyond recognition. Actually, it’s not until he decides to retire the blanket for your sake that he realizes the colour is also washed down to the point of looking like another thing completely.

Knowing that his previous blanket was so awful it made you scratch your own skin leaves an incredibly sour taste in his mouth.

In his defence, you could’ve said something sooner, but oh well.

Good riddance; it served good until it didn’t.

From then on you have complete freedom to use whatever feels more comfortable for you so you can keep sleeping together uninterrupted.

Besides his, yours and the attic’s bed, he has slept on the floor, the cabinets, tables, rugs and whatnot, so he isn’t really picky about what you’re choosing.

His priority is that you’re comfortable and satiated because as long as you’re there, he doesn’t need anything else.

Barbatos

Lo and behold, another festival has reached the Devildom.

How does anyone have the time to live their private life while dealing with school, (possibly) a job and the occasional event, you wonder?

Good question!

Anyway.

It’s not you who goes to Barbatos asking for help to design your costume; instead, he is the one sending you a message for permission to take your measurements. And who would reject such an offer from the royal butler?

Barely a couple of days later, you find yourself on top of a small platform in one of the guest rooms in the Demon Lord’s Castle while Barbatos kneels at your feet and holds a sewing tape in his hands.

He’s talking about the design, its colours and the length and you’re only thinking about fabrics, but would that be too much work for him? Of course, he lives to serve and he has made that abundantly clear on numerous occasions, but perhaps being too demanding was crossing a limit.

You couldn’t be more wrong.

He understands your struggle and acts very normal about it. Besides, he also wants you to be happy and comfortable and if he’s the one actively making that a reality, then it’ll be that much better.

Additionally, searching for more suitable fabrics means that you will both spend more time together, which Barbatos deeply appreciates.

In the end, not only will you look perfect in a costume he has made specifically for you, but he will also get to know more about who you are and what makes you you.

As insignificant as it may look, every single detail is very important to him.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

[space-blue]

Hi, I love a lot of your meta and analyses. Especially for Arcane. One thing that's bothering me is what exactly was Silco's reputation among the Lanes in act 1? It's odd how Vander seems to say he's worse than enforcers, and Benzo even calls him an animal and immediately tries to charge at Silco after Grayson's death. But we know that Silco only became this ruthless AFTER his attempted murder by Vander. So during the old times when Vander and Benzo knew him, Silco was apparently a "weak man" who wasn't nearly as violent as Vander. So what gives?

Sure, the "animal" line could just be because of the brutal way he killed Grayson and the enforcers, but idk, the way he immediately charges Silco no questions asked seems to indicate something deeper. It's funny too, because Silco murdered only the enforcers that were arresting Vander, and didn't even want to kill Vander until he rejected Silco's plan and refused to join him. So if Benzo just stayed calm and kept his hands to himself Silco would've probably kidnapped them both. Hell, without Benzo's murder hanging over Vander's head, maybe he could've even be persuaded to rejoin Silco for another try at revolution? But the story needs him to refuse, so ofc Benzo had to die.

I'm just wondering why exactly, if Silco was known as the less violent one before Vander tried to kill him, then why do Benzo and Vander in act 1 treat him like he's been a devil the whole time. Did they maybe catch wind of his unpleasant activities while he was underground and building his revolution plans?

Hi Anon! What a great ask! And thank you, you make me blush. It's nice that my horrendous Arcane brain rot actually serves some purpose somehow x'D

This is a very good question and a difficult one—because of the writers. I'm not sure if they really know or care to make sense of Silco and Vander's past. The timeline is shaky and vague. I think they were happy to leave things quite mysterious. Some of us desperately try to unravel it, but the bulk of viewers took it all at face value and concluded that Silco is a horrible man who did horrible things.

This is not me bashing other fans, all theories are valid, but I must admit sometimes I wonder if the Arcane writers managed to convey their point across. Because I've seen quite a few people theorise that Silco did something truly horrible and 'deserved' to be killed by Vander, despite the lack of evidence or accusation, or the show going to great length to harp about Vander's potential for change, of his "monster within" who caves in skulls with his fists.

(Not to mention the casual fans who thought the sun shone out of Vander's ass because they couldn't see past Vi's pov and didn't do dozens of obsessive rewatches like yours truly).

My point is that their relationship is pretty complicated and there are plenty of dissenting theories. And I think a lot of people go one way or the other precisely around those moments you mention. I'm going to give you my theory, but it's very fanon. I'm genuinely a lot less certain about this than some of my other meta. It's just what gels for me considering how I interpret the rest of the show.

I'm going to put this under a cut, because there's a lot!

What exactly was Silco's reputation among the Lanes in act 1?

I don't think Silco was weak. That's him reframing his trauma. Not just weak physically (like obviously he could never fight Vander off fairly), but for having trusted him. Weak for not seeing the betrayal coming, and not coming on top of that conflict. He calls his old self weak because he must believe in his own progress, his own resurrection into a being who can enact his plans at last. 

I think Silco was a beacon of hope and zealotry. I think he was a propaganda machine. Young Silco united a lot of Zaun under the banner of his dream. He probably worked hard, and led the movement. From the way their dialogue goes, the accusation of betrayal, saying "I trusted you", and the manner of Silco's attitude around Vander, I'm of the (generally not that popular) sentiment that Silco was the leader of the early rebellion, and that Vander was his follower. Most likely his right hand man.

In fic I've theorised that Vander, who tells Vi he used to always be so angry and violent, didn't have a channel for said violence until Silco gave him structure and a purpose. Directed that violence at Piltover, at creating (read, carving out) the Lanes.

Which, FYI, are NEVER clarified. We don't know if it's a business model or a territory or both. Writers truly don't care to explain it.

Anyway, Silco speaks of "our dream" and then uses "brother" with a LOT of irony laced in, in reply to Vander's own use of the term. They used to be brothers in arms and Vander believed in that dream. We also know that Vander used to fight for the cause and claims he's "not that man anymore".

He basically was fighting for team Silco—team Zaun—right until the day of the betrayal.

Then we're told by Vander that Silco had his respect, the Lanes' respect, "but that... was never enough for you". We're also told by Sevika that Vander created the Lanes.

This suggests to me that Silco and Vander created the Lanes together. 

I assume that over time Vander started seeing Silco's plans as too greedy, while leading the Lanes seemed ideal. 'Good enough', if you will. Vander is small minded where Silco is aiming for the sun. One wants too little and the other too much. Silco says they 'shared a vision, dreams of freedom, not just for the Lanes but for the whole of the Underground, united as One'. They used to dream of Zaun together... And then Vander realised Silco would tear the Lanes apart if it would serve his purpose (to attack Piltover). 

I think he didn't believe it'd work (and given what we see of Piltover vs. Zaun before shimmer, it might not have), and realised he wanted to rule the Lanes. Vander would now see Silco's dreams as too dangerous.

I know some people in the Zaundads community who theorised that Vander was influenced in turning on Silco by Benzo or others. It's not my prefered theory.

I think Vander wanted the Lanes for himself, and knew that Silco was too zealous to ever stop. We don't know why he got so (intimately) violent. Why they were in the Pilt. We see Vander first very cold, slowly drowning Silco, then very hot and brutal, once he's been hurt. I think he was very different indeed from the genial Vander we know in arc 1. Young Vander is the guy who carved the Lanes with his fists. The guy who built the reputation old Vander still coasts on. A guy known by foreigners! In short, it doesn't really help to look at him through the old Vander lens. He did what he did..

And THEN, he hid the (most likely black and contaminated) wound from Silco's knife. While Silco wears his scar unashamed for what must be a decade or two, Vander has his arm constantly covered. This speaks of shame to me. We know he had regrets too :

Truly a young, impulsive, violent man, who rushed into a bad decision and has regretted it since. I can picture a young Vander missing his best friend, his guiding light, and yet finally becoming the leader he wanted to be. Curtailing Silco's uprising entirely and settling, at least until his own revolt. 

We know there was only one time where the rebellion went ahead, and that was well after Silco left. Vander, to the assembled Lanes people, says "we crossed that bridge once before". It's the era where he still had Silco's respect, but was immediately followed by his pact with Grayson. Which Silco knew of.

Sorry... I'm rambling to try and get all the details in... Almost there.

Finally we come to Vander holding his (shamefully hidden) wound and saying "there's worse things than enforcers out there, we both know that."

And I'm not sure WHAT HE MEANS!! Like, this is not proof he knows Silco is alive. My personal feeling is that Vander believes there's a chance Silco might be alive, but he's not actively taking precautions like that's a possibility. Silco's attack wouldn't have come out of left field and taken them so completely by surprise otherwise.

There are plenty of things worse than enforcers. Including himself!! He could mean competing chembarons. He could mean someone wanting his seat. He could mean anything, it's infuriating. 

Anyway, I think Vander came back from the Pilt with a bad stab wound and a story. I think he told everyone that Silco attacked him and died. That he turned traitor. Or any other bullshit story. But I believe he did what any new illegitimate ruler does, and shat all over Silco's reputation. Or else cried some crocodile tears over him and called him dead. But Silco never stepped back into the open, so Vander making him persona non grata is more likely. 

Whatever the case, Vander had completely taken over the Lanes by the time Silco was in good enough health to show up.

Did they run into each other? Did Vander scare him off again? I'm not sure, but I don't think so. Vander looks way too shocked when he realises who's showing up at the murder party. This isn't the expression of someone who is used to thwarting schemes. This isn't the Batman's face when the Joker appears with mischief around a street corner.

Meanwhile, why would Benzo react so negatively to Silco? The well respected man who was betrayed (a fact Vander owns up to and APOLOGISES for), who was half drowned and mutilated by Vander's hand... Yet Benzo immediately calls him an animal (which, you're right, could be in reaction to stepping into a mass killing—which, fair), and tells him to "crawl back into whatever hole he came out of."

I feel like this is the reaction of someone who thinks "wow, it's the cunt who harmed my bestie 20 years ago and (insert Vander's lies about him). Who knew he was still alive?"

Meanwhile, Vander looks like it's judgement day. I think he has excellent reasons to be afraid. He stole the Lanes, destroyed Silco's dreams, ruined his rep, drove him out of the Underground... and somehow Silco stayed under the radar all this time? And now he's got killer monsters? Of course he'd be scared. Vander knows how intense Silco used to be, and knows how guilty he himself is. I think he believes all bets are off. Precisely because Silco never had a reputation as a weak man. 

I mean, consider! If Vander was mega violent under Silco's guidance... If they built the Lanes together... If Silco was the leader who helped Vander redirect his rage... Then Silco clearly didn't mind being extremely violent. He didn't mind unleashing "the Hound" on the people who stood in the way of Zaun. 

((I think Silco's "weak" narrative is a self soothing framing device. That he's recontextualising himself, making a philosophy of life. After all, he tries to use these same terms to speak to Jinx about her own trauma, while failing to grasp that while he was at his weakest, Powder was at her strongest. His personal motto of letting the weak die doesn't work for Jinx.))

It's very revealing that Vander says "Benzo stay back!" and Silco says "you never did know when to walk away." Like if he'd stayed back and then walked away, he'd have been fine. I fully agree that this tells us that Vander thinks Silco is only after him. That he wouldn't kill Benzo needlessly. Needless deaths were probably never Silco's style, as someone wanting to 'unite' the Underground. And after all, he's not even here to kill Vander, but to recruit him.

So, yeah... In conclusion (at last lol) 

Silco was never weak, simply too big a dreamer, someone who wouldn't surrender his lofty ideals for the reality of being one of the most powerful men in the Undercity. Ultimately he got in young Vander's way. Vander impulsively sacrificed Silco for his own desire to rule the Lanes. Then he turned around, shameful and regretful, and lied to everyone about it as he usurped Silco's place and became the Lanes' sole leader. 

(I personally theorised in several fics that the last Drop was actually Silco's, and that Vander took over it after the betrayal, partially explaining why Silco never leaves the place after his own takeover. Complicated feelings + it was his and fuck Vander lol)

I don't believe Benzo or Vander have any clue about Silco's plans, and simply react based on what they know and imagine (Benzo based on whatever Vander told him, and Vander based on how fucked he has to be and how insanely dedicated Silco must still be). I believe Vander has a lot of double agents in his midst (Sevika, Syd), and people who've been keeping tabs on him for years. 

Counter-argument : Marcus says he spoke to one of Vander's "old friends" and that he "wasn't always so peaceful". You could think this may have tipped Vander off... But how many people did he leave behind or crush when creating the Lanes? How many people hate him for leading the failed uprising? I think it's still plausible that Vander doesn't suspect Silco's involvement. 

Vander just lacks cunning. Another final argument for him being totally clueless is that he had a direct line to Grayson, and a quick, 'Hey, okay I'll tell you who stole your stuff' pointing fingers towards Silco would have entirely solved the situation for him.

Yet he never is shown to consider it. 

PHEW. I think that covers it?? I think I covered every point? At least that's how I interpret this situation, even though it relies heavily on my own fanon readings of the timeline and a lot of other details. 

If anyone disagrees with this, or wants to double down, as always go crazy. I love me a meta pile on. 

[frodo-with-glasses]

Discord Discussion Highlights: Lobelia

meg is me:

Something about how lotr has happy endings even though they aren't the same as we were hoping

Tolkien cares about the ponies Tolkien cares about Lobelia Tolkien cares

M.aggie:

Oh yes

Tolkien takes special care of Frodo, and other hobbits doesn't he?

RebirthoftheMustelid:

I love Lobelia's redemption at the end. Something about showing the difference between true evil and just everyday curmudgeonry. It's like no, this old woman is not evil. Even if her son became evil, even if she and Bilbo didn't get along, this old woman is not evil. She is just like anyone else, and when evil did come, she got trampled by it even worse than some who were arguably "better" people. Poor Lobelia. I hope her last few years were kind to her.

meg is me:

Frodo doesn't need any more enemies in his life and I'm so happy lobelia became his friend

RebirthoftheMustelid:

Absolutely. Just because she's a cranky old lady doesn't mean she's an enemy, or evil or cruel or any of that.

meg is me:

Basically the only thing that made her "evil" was that she wanted Bilbo dead 😂

Sort of

Lol she wanted his nice house

Windmill to the Stars:

I don't think Lobelia was a like a good person, I think she was kind of mean, greedy, petty, etc. But she was just a lady going about her business . . .

RebirthoftheMustelid:

True. She was unpleasant, yes. Sharp-tongued, greedy, sometimes genuinely nasty. But one moment of kindness after everything broke her. And I think that says a lot

Me:

I just got back from grocery shopping to see this outpouring of love for Lobelia and I couldn’t be happier 💚💚💚

heckinmusicdork:

lady glasses After all this time, I think you've finally made a believer out of me! Yeah sure she may have been Unpleasant for most of her life, but this was a turning point for her, I'm certain of it. It's never too late for someone to change ❤️

Me:

Mercy is extended to everyone. Sometimes it’s easier to forgive the evil than the annoying, but Tolkien offers mercy to them both.

I think the line “she had never in her life been popular” sums up everything about Lobelia. I imagine she’d experienced so much hurt and rejection over the years that she’d eventually shut down and stopped trying, just looking out for herself and no one else. Was some of her pain self-inflicted? Possibly. But there’s a hobbit under all that anger and hurt, and she doesn’t deserve love any less than anyone else.

Bonus:

meg is me:

Au where the ring comes to lobelia like hey I can get you that nice smial you've been wanting

M.aggie:

My preciousssss housssseeee ~ Lobelia Sackville-Baggins

M.aggie is @sweetmaggie, RebirthoftheMustelid is @weezlbot, Windmill to the Stars is @windmilltothestars, heckinmusicdork is @heckin-music-dork, and meg is me does not have tumblr :-3

[shionzeroart]

It's time to present my The Arcana OC, Salem the Apprentice 🌿✨ I really hope everyone who sees it will like him!

So, let's begin. Be careful, contains spoilers.

Short information:

💚 Salem Ali (nee Shayad), 25 years old, 5'7" in height. An apprentice who considers magic and inner freedom as the most important things in life.

💚 INFJ, EVFL

💚 date of birth: July 26th, zodiac sign: Leo

💚 he/them, demisexual

💚 favorite drink: mint lemonade

💚 favorite dish: spicy pilaf with pumpkin

💚 colours: black, green, gold

💚 favorite flower: dandelion

💚 voice headcanon: Bill Kaulitz

More detailed:

💚 Salem was born in a noble family. They wanted their only son to be superior in everything, not really asking him what he personally wants, and since his early childhood were teaching him almost everything, including martial arts, magic and literacy.

💚 But the only thing Salem had true talent to, and, most importantly, desire to succeed in, was magic.

💚 He was being rebellious against his family and was acting stubborn to get some personal freedom, but he was still submitting to his parents up to a certain time, because he was afraid to upset and disappoint them. His parents often told him that they had known better how should Salem live and what should he do. And he was believing that for a really long time.

💚 His patience ran out after his parents made him aware that he's engaged to be wed to some noble bride, all to the exclusive benefit of Shayad family. He escaped the magic school where he had been studying at that moment.

💚 He faked his own death and made his way to Vesuvia, disguising carefully, and settled there. He took the most widespread and folksy surname used in his country. (SPOILER ALERT: after the death of plague and coming back to life he completely forgot his former surname and didn't remember it ever again.) He was 15-16 years old that moment, and soon he met Asra.

💚 Salem has a very keen sense for people, but sometimes not fully trusts his intuition because of his own doubts. Nevertheless, he's a good diplomat, he can tell people the right things, the things people would like to hear, and really wins people's favor because of it. Salem is well-mannered and generally polite, but not with those who limit him in some way and try to belittle him. Sometimes it's hard for him to deal with people, he often treats people cautiously to the utmost, but if purity of purposes and genuiness is proven to him by deeds, he pays it off completely. Salem is really devoted and sincere, he says what he means, and he definitely lacks noble fake benevolence that his family was inherent in. It's not a problem for him to express his feelings directly, and he won't be silent when something goes wrong, especially when he trusts the person around him. With Asra, best of his traits (ambition, determination, inner feeling of justice, empathy and kindness) have developed, and his worst traits (anxiety, lack of confidence, social awkwardness, stubbornness and impetuosity) have stopped disturbing him.

💚 Firstly, Asra has become a kindred spirit for him, then the most loyal and best friend, a teacher in some way, and finally a partner, in every sense. Asra has shown Salem that he deserves friendship and love just for being himself, and Salem doesn't need to prove anything to a person he likes. In canon and post-canon timeline, Salem has become completely more mature mentally, more calm and confident, thanks to Asra too. Salem trusted Asra unconditionally for showing him an absolutely new way of behavior and life, and he feels deep thankfulness to Asra, not to mention love. Salem may act like an unapproachable arrogant person with people who are especially unpleasant to him, but never ever with Asra.

[msfbgraves]

Chronic overwork

It's strange how I, well into my thirties, am still learning how to navigate adult, day-to-day-life.

I'm in a lot of lowkey pain today, I'll give it a 5? I'm not worried; it hasn't wiped out my motivation, and I'm pretty sure where it comes from. But it makes me think.

I'm afraid to do work, but when I sat down to think of why that was, I wondered if it was the unpleasantness I was afraid of. And ultimately, no. Motivation and gentleness help a lot with unpleasantness. There's psychological pressures of work, but I have two excellent guides for that, The Now Habit and Performance Success, that are great at recontextualising fears of being thought wanting.

However I am terrified of not being allowed to stop working when I physically need to.

Every situation I was put in as a child was a little at this side of too much. Mind, they already thought they did a great job of accomodating me. Non-spoonies under 70 lack imagination in that department.

And people think nothing of forcing you to go out to work drinks that run to 19:00, meaning you can only get dinner at 20:00. Because having drinks with colleagues cannot be considered taxing (can't it? As if you don't have to filter what you say with your boss right there. Which is being made extremely difficult with the forced alcohol consumption and the extreme overtiredness). But school, and work, has meant day-after-day-after-day of very, very mild exploitation, a paper cut a day.

And, well, a four year old doesn't realise that's what's going on. And I'm still learning how to protect myself from that, trying to get back to working for money.

But it's not work I'm afraid of. It's not even really, the lack of fun, though that doesn't help. Intrinsic motivation and considerate self-talk can do a lot. Frustration is a bad one, yes.

But exploitation.

Self-care is not the avoidance of work with us spoonies.

It's a conditio sine qua non.

And that is the opposite of what they teach us.

And that got me ranting under the cut...

And the underlying assumption is that work is so terrible you have to force anyone to do it, so how much you hurt them while forcing them to do it essentially doesn't matter.

And all labour that people enjoy performing isn't work and therefore does not deserve to be paid a living wage

Work that has meaning does not deserve to be paid a living wage

Then they force every living adult from 18 to 68 to spend their time either

in poverty (for daring to do something fullfilling with their time)

or horrible working conditions, because work is supposed to hurt

And since pain is an absolute given in paid work, so is emotional, physical and sexual abuse, or, in my case, the systematic destruction of health

And that, somehow, is the way it is supposed to be, because we love our friends and family? Friends and family who also need to suffer from either poverty or exploitation?

Because, and people believe that - otherwise work would never get done?

When even Dutch plantation owners noticed that their slaves were more productive if they had something positive to work for?

And instead they raise prices and depress wages?

Have these people even met a human person?

It always ends in death, and I don't know why we keep on accepting it. We've done the experiments with a basic living income, and it always works

increases work participation among those out of work before

decreases societal costs

But no, work has to be suffering...

Why do we accept it? It's insane.

And I can't really get over how insane.

Which makes it much harder to want to participate. The whole underlying ideology is madness.

[trainsinanime]

i saw your post on drachenlord from march last year and the consensus amongst us german ppl is that he "deserves" it bc hes genuinely antisemitic, racist, pedophilic and an unpleasant person,,, he claimed hiroshima was "a pretty nice thing" for example... people that first have the displeasure to know him DO feel sorry for him, however as you start to know more about him that empathy for him fades as you realize that he rlly does deserve it

Just for context, I am German myself, and you are not convincing.

For one, I have no idea whether you are telling the truth. First, you're on anon, so you could be anybody. And the fact that you care so much about the topic that you're digging up year-old posts from random folks on the internet makes me doubt your intentions.

I am aware that he said some very nasty things. Perhaps even the things you're claiming, who knows. Even if, does he actually believe these things, or was he goaded into saying them by the people who made hating him their entire life? I don't know, and I doubt you'll give me an honest answer, but that is rather relevant.

But also, on the other hand, it is completely irrelevant, because even then, I don't see how he deserves a constant hate mob outside his house, doxxing, all sorts of surprisingly elaborate plans to humiliate him, attacks on his family and neighbours and such. I'm all for strongly disagreeing with people, but anyone can see that this has gone beyond disagreement. It's just entertainment for the perpetrators. There's a reason why it's called "Drachengame", after all.

This becomes very obvious in comparison. This dude is just some guy on the internet. He doesn't have power or cultural influence. He isn't a politician or a thought leader or whatever. There are plenty of people in Germany who have truly terrible opinions and hold them with conviction. These people are actively working towards making the world worse for everyone. If you want to find themgo through the list of political parties, alphabetically, and they're right there at the top. I am not saying anyone should form constant hate mobs outside the houses of leading AfD politicians and make their lives a living hell, because I think saying that might be a crime; but if someone went ahead and did that, I certainly wouldn't cry. But the mob isn't going after them, it's going after some guy, because he's funny when he's angry, and that tells us something.

Note also that if we ignore all human dignity arguments (Grundgesetz §1, give it a read sometimes), and go strictly utilitarian, then it's also clear that it's not working. He hasn't stopped saying horrible things (prompted or not). The thing he probably does "deserve" is being ignored and forgotten, but instead, he has become famous all over the country.

That's not a mistake, that's by design. The harassment campaign isn't trying to get him to stop, it's trying to make him worse, because that's fun. All that stuff about "he's a terrible human being", even if true, isn't the point, it's just what the harassers use to justify their inhumane behaviour.

If you want a more eloquent discussion of the whole topic, here's a good summary that matches my own thoughts.

And if all of this sounds like I'm very hostile towards you, I'm sorry, it's just because the only thing I know about you is that you're a terrible human being. If you're not too far gone, then please, take a moment and think: Is all of this harassment working? Are its methods suitable for reducing hate and such on the internet? Is all this energy directed at the right person? And are these methods valid at all, or just fundamentally inhumane? I think the answer to all of these is clearly no.

[xandercainxxx]

Rorschach, Watchmen.

"Soon there will be war. Millions will burn. Millions will perish in sickness and misery. Why does one death matter against so many? Because there is good and there is evil, and evil must be punished. Even in the face of Armageddon I shall not compromise in this. But there are so many deserving of retribution ... and there is so little time."

Walter Joseph Kovacs was a violent and ruthless costumed vigilante known for mentally unstable behavior. Kovacs grew up in abusive household until he was put under state care at the Charlton Home. After leaving foster care, he found work as a garment worker, but he soon grew bored with it, as it served him no real purpose at the time. Upon hearing the circumstances surrounding Kitty Genovese's death, Kovacs became disillusioned with the underlying apathy that he saw as inherent in most people. Inspired by Genovese's fate, Kovacs made a customized inkblot mask from a specialized dress fabric, and began fighting crime as the vigilante known as Rorschach.

A New Face

Soon after Walter left the Charlton Home, he started living in a series of low-rent apartments. He took up full employment in a menial capacity as an unskilled manual worker within the garment industry. He described to Malcolm Long, "Job bearable but unpleasant. Had to handle female clothing." In 1962 there was a special order for a dress in a new Doctor Manhattan spin-off fabric. The customer was a "young girl with an Italian name'', Kitty Genovese, who didn't accept it saying that the dress looked ugly. Walter thought otherwise, and since no one had wanted the dress, he believed it was meant for him, so he took it home and learned how to cut it using heated implements to reseal the latex. Soon he became bored and thought the fabric had no use, leaving it in his trunk and forgetting about it.[2]

Two years afterward, in March of 1964, he bought a newspaper and saw that the customer had been brutally raped and murdered outside of her apartment building while her neighbors just watched, not calling the police. Because of this, Kovacs learned what people were behind all the evasions and self-deception. Being ashamed for humanity, he took the remains of her unwanted dress and made a face he claimed that he "...could bear to look at in the mirror."[2]

Meeting Nite Owl

Wearing his 'new face', Kovacs decided to become a costumed adventurer by the name of 'Rorschach', taken from Hermann Rorschach, who created the Rorschach inkblot test. Continuing his work in the garment factory, Kovacs started his nocturnal lifestyle by fighting crime. The following year, 1965, he partnered with fellow costumed vigilante, Nite Owl,[2] whose technical skills and resources complimented his own skills as an investigator. Rorschach's grappling hook gun was designed and built for him by Nite Owl.[6] During that time, they fought against the gangs and were successful against several major crime figures including Underboss and Big Figure.[6][7]

The next year, April 1966, Nelson Gardner, otherwise known as Captain Metropolis, the same man co-founded the Minutemen, attempted to form a new group of superheroes called the Crimebusters. When discussing the group's creation, with Rorschach, his partner Nite Owl, Comedian, Doctor Manhattan, Ozymandias and Silk Spectre, Rorschach commented that while he had success with Nite Owl, a group that size seemed more like a 'publicity exercise', and was "too big and unwieldy."[7] Rorschach felt admiration for the Comedian's forceful personality and his courage to face reality as it is.[2] The participants left the mansion, and Rorschach sneaked behind the bushes.[8]

For a long time, Rorschach described himself as 'soft': "Soft on scum. Too young to know any better. Molly-coddled them. Let them live." His pattern continued until 1975, when Blair Roche, a six year old child, was kidnapped because Gerald Anthony Grice thought she had been connected to the Roche Chemical fortune. Roche's father was a bus driver and the family was not in any way wealthy. Rorschach had "personal reasons," for taking the case and he intervened, promising the parents he'd return her unharmed. He visited underworld bars, putting fourteen people in the hospital needlessly, but the fifteenth gave him an address to Modern Modes, an unused dressmaker's shop in Brooklyn.

Source is from: Walter Kovacs | Watchmen Wiki | Fandom

[80-ursa-major]

i was going through blogs and saw an old hp meta and i mostly respect that person's opinion so i went back and reread the last 2 books and that was fun and now i have so many feeling i need to let them out

-the main one is that i don't hate snape? like he's an asshole for bullying kids but after seeing his entire life flash before my eyes there was no room for anything but pity. mind you not the aw poor bb pity but the damn life really is a bitch and then you die. like your family's shit and you're ugly and everyone hates and you can't let go so you end up perpetuating the abuse cycle and there's no redemption. you failed, the end. kinda amazing tbh that she wrote him like that i.e a brave dude who managed to do the right thing after he ruined everything but also a thoroughly unpleasant human being till the end.

p.s: is he even a bad teacher? most of his students pass, his detention is scrubbing pots and he makes mean girls tier remarks. Meanwhile the good guys send children to the forbidden forest and expose them to dangeorus animals without protection lmao

+ the always~ line is overused and criiiinge just like the ship itself. The real goat line is ''And my soul? Mine? It cut me deeply cause i was also dumbledore's (wo)man's through and through and i didn't care about his hitler boyfriend and his secrets and i even went as far as to make a note in the book (the only note) to plead with harry not to doubt him. and he was the only thing remotely close to a friend snape had cause he was the ony one who knew the truth but he did use him cause he wanted to save harry and the world and even fucking draco and it just sucks, it all suuuucks

++and it's not like draco got a redemption, his entire family was dogshit and still got away with everything. i felt this so hard cause thanks to churchil the nazi collaborators in my country never got their comeuppance so their descendants also hold positions of power now and keep eroding our democracy

+++still can't believe the one that got rehabilitated was kreacher, like i hated him so much for sirius but hermione was kinda right. and it was so sad when he must have waited and waited for them to show up and eat that kidney pie

-i remember i hated how my precious perfect hermione ending up with he's just ron but this time i didn't care much. his rapid fire cool AND considerate moments in the battle were very forced in my opinion and a little too little too late but eh whatever as long as she's happy.

+i think it's cause as a kid i wanted her with harry but now he was kinda annoying, idk he can be a pretty annoying kid. i mean it makes sense considering what the poor child had to got Through. But also he's basically the messiah with his love spiel and dying for everyone and i'm sitting here with my hurt cheek and a core that craves a proportionate justice that doesn't exist.

btw i'll never understand people who still complain about albus severus. it's a shit name to be sure but if you spend 7 years with harry it should be obvious this is a 200% in character thing to do.

++adulthood is realising krum was the best and deserved better and we deserved better instead of unrepentant asshole malfoys

-i still hate ginny and molly. molly was poor but had seven kids and the only one who would always get the short end of the stick was ron. it was just so pitiful with the wand, and the cloak and the rat. and she was so obsessed with being harry's mom she got pissed at sirius for being the cool dad (dude had his issues too obviously but they should have met in the middle) and she thought the sun shined out of harry's ass so she froze a teen girl she knew cause of something she read in the Sun. Kinda hated how she got the bella kill too

ginny went from nobody to best at hexing AND sports AND doesn't cry AND she's so hot everyone wants her and lmao what kind of cardboard dating game self-insert is this?Her sense of humour has asuch a mean streak too. And the way they treated fleur argh I felt like i was in an aita about the stereotypical evil mil and sil. and the people who say it was mutual cause fluer was snob? yeah she was and i ripped her one too when she looked down on my favorite chaotic magic murderschool but they weren't bullying her because of that? they were being mean cause they were jealous she was beautiful and men went gaga, because they thought that meant she was shallow and of course she wasn't good enough for their son/bro

and the trashiest thing was when they made fun of accents. these people who only knew english and had never tried learning any other languages! like come on dude

-i had forgotten how hedwig dies aaaaaaa i still can't believe it was so fast and then nothing it still hurts...

[forgottenroisin]

At the sound of Eithne's praise, Rosie's eyes lit up, her cheeks aglow despite the grin suffusing her cheeks. "It's quite easy when I have such a lovely canvas," she said, quickly kissing her sister's cheek. "But I don't mind taking credit for your beauty," she teased. "It suits my goals quite well."

In truth -- much as Rosie's somewhat materialistic streak ensured that she was in truth a vain creature -- this was no mere matter of outward charms. If she could keep herself and her family in the latest fashions, crediting these to her anonymous semstress, she could keep commissions filtering in from others at court, commissions which helped to ease the lives of the struggling villagers in Malconaire.

Yet, by the same token, it was certainly true as well that Rosie did not merely wish to appear in style for these altruistic causes, alone. It did matter to her -- more than, as she was well aware, it ought -- that people turn and look when she entered a room, passing an admiring eye over her from head to toe. She wanted very much to be pretty -- that maiden who stole breath away when she entered a room. True enough, Rosie knew how foolish this was, how selfish and materialistic particularly when people were suffering, particularly on a brutually cold evening such as this one and yet...And yet she found it did nothing to diminish her desire to be admired.

Still, these were ambitions she hardbored not simply for herself, but for her sisters as well. She wanted their evening to feel special and magical and, she hoped, that her designs might be a step in the right directions. After all they'd been through, didn't they all deserve a joyful celebration, free of care? And when were they like to see another opportunity, again? Not, Rosie feared, for a very long time to come.

Laughing, Rosie smirked. That was true enough, indeed. "And yet I am determined that I shall not sleep at all tonight, either. I mean to dance the night away, and utterly ruin my poor shoes in the process, and I mean to give not the slightest fig about any responsibilities at all. Just for one night. For one night, Eithne," she said, taking both her sister's hands eagerly in her own. "Let's be the ladies we were, before. My hands might not be soft as they once were, and you may have a better palette for tasting ingredidents than you ever did, before, but...Tonight, let's agree to pretend we don't know how to do any of those things. No one can ask it of us with all those people to see, and we can just be ourselves! In our old place with our old friends. Oh, won't it be grand? And," she added, pulling back and arching a conspiratorial brow with a wide grin as she cast her glance towards Valentina who was busying herself giving poor Sonya a detailed list of all her expectations for the evening (she meant her to ensnare an emperor all in one night by the sounds of it!). "I believe I can convince Valentina to let us stay the whole night, Eithne..." she glanced quickly towards the billowing storm. "Though...in truth we may not have much of a choice, all things considered!"

Catching the seriousness in her sister's tone, Rosie's face dropped somewhat. It was a tone she knew well, and she braced herself for something unpleasant. Whatever it was, Rosie thought it must be terrible indeed, for Eithne was trying so very hard not to burst Rosie's bubble. A gossamer wave of too-cool steel wove its way thought Rosie's chest, threading through her ribs till it nearly hurt to breathe. "What is it?"

Yet, Eithne's eyes flicked to Cillian and, despite herself, Rosie found herself laughing out a sigh of relief. "Oh, don't worry about that. It was just the two of us and nobody in the world to hear." This was certainly Rosie's belief, but how accurate that truly was, Cillian could judge far better than she, in truth, and his judgment in such matters was hardly one to err on the side of caution. Yet, in Cillian it was a form of recklessness, whereas in Rosie's character, it was less that and more a complete focus on what she was doing or thinking which resulted in a general lack of awareness of much else.

A shadow crossed over Rosie's face and, for a moment, she gazed evenly at her sister. Her words were a knell that chimed somewhere in the corners of her mind, in a little locked door of its recesses, but she turned the key once again and turned away. "I...I'm cold," she whispered, suddenly unable to look Eithne in the eye.

Rosie hadn't seen the palace in two years hadn't seen it, in fact, since her father had been alive, since Astaira had been free. The chill that rippled through her was not borne on the air, but she pulled her cloak tighter about herself all the same, as if it were some impenetrable shield of legend rather than a thing made of furs and velvets which she, herself, had pierced with needle and thread not days ago.

Suddenly, fiercely, she turned towards Eithne, not angry but rather urgent, her eyes wide. "They're not all so very terrible, you know," she said, a bit too quickly, and though she did not name the Varmonts by name, it was obvious who she meant. Though she knew that Eithne received her imperial visits as much as Rosie did hers, her tone was almost convincing...imploring, even. "Perhaps...perhaps its all just misunderstanding and, surely, once all things are made clear, all will be well once again. We simply ought to have faith and trust in the goodness of people, for how can they not improve if we do not give them the chance?"

Yet, it was a chance she denied Cassimir and Valentina. But they had not killed her father, burned her village, conquered her people. Strange that, if they had, she might feel quicker to forgive them...because it meant not dwelling too long on all they had wraught. On all that was lost.

"Come, Eithne," she began, softly, taking one of her hands again, anxity and hope vying within her expression for dominance. "Let us just take this opportunity and enjoy ourselves, don't you think? I'm sure it will be a joyous occasion if we only let it be, don't you think? O h," she beamed, but something in her eye could not. "Say you do, Eithne. Say it quick, and say it true. There's enough sorrow already. Isn't it time we temper it with a bit of fun?"

Heavenly | Rosie & Eithne

"Oh, Eithne," breathed Rosie, stepping back from her sister to take in her handiwork. "You look simply heavenly. Why, if Prince Arthur doesn't fall head over heels in love with you the instant he sees you, he's an even greater fool than I already took him for." Rosie grinned.

She wasn't entirely wrong, however. While she was certainly giving Arthur's fashion sense a great deal more credit than it was due, her sister was a vision. Rosie had outdone herself crafting new gowns for each of her sisters -- something to match the tastes and spirit of each, and she thought, as she looked at Eithne, that she was the very essence of beauty.

But not merely in the physical sense -- though that was certainly the case as well -- but something in the light of her eyes, the warm apples of her cheeks, the sweetness of her mouth: her beauty was on full display because of the grace and kindess that lurked beneath her skin, somehow seeming to settle over her features like a veil of shimmering elegance.

"Oh, but don't stare too long into the mirror, you may risk falling in love with yourself like a prince in a fairytale, and then how could your golden prince ever hope to compete for your affections?" she teased, taking Eithne's hand and hauling her towards the sleigh awaiting them below. "In truth, I can hardly wait to show you off. Oh!" Rosie interrupted herself, swanning to catch up their fur-lined cloaks, and draping Eithne in hers in a strangely motherly administration for a younger sister, before donning her own.

"It's too cold not to wear it. In truth it's quite frightful out. Cillian said he half thought the sleigh would freeze in place! I told him he's quite absurd, but he just started talking about how the winter-king must be warring with his brother again," she added, waving a hand as if this mattered nothing to her.

It did, in fact, matter to her because Rosie was of a sharply supersticious mind, though she was also a rational enough creature to consider this foolishness, and thus often found herself in the odd position of teetering this way and that. Largely, she made a show -- as she did now -- of dismissing the notion, but in truth this playact was unlike to fool anyone who knew her well.

She decided, as she often did, to simply make a joke of it. "Come, let's away before the battle turns one way or another. It would be quite awkward, I've little doubt, to be pulled into a divine palace and put into the center of a godly dispute: made to cast lots on which eternal brother we think most likely to lose. Though I daresay you could charm whoever was the victor into forgiving whichever of us were so foolish as to bet the other way."

[nohrenvia]

the flowers blooming in my heart.....

ー Synopsis : How shall one knows that their love is true? Is it love at first sight? Tell me, how and when did you recognize that you love them sincerely, with familiarity, and without doubt? To you, what is love?

ー Characters : Squadra Guardie del corpo (Bucci Gang)

ー Since the day of love has arrived, this is a Valentine's day special! I hope all of you lovelies enjoy it ♡

♤ Nohr ♤

Bruno Bucciarati

Dearest, did you know how Bruno realized that he loves you deeply? Was it when he realized he would go to the ends of the world you? Or was it when he swore to shield you from any harm? No, my dearest. The truth is simpler than you thought. Bucciarati is a kind man, he was too kind, even when he uses his fists, even when he walks the path of bloodshed, the real Bucciarati is a child who lives by the sea, longing for a simpler time, a happier outcome, a kinder fate.

The moment where Bruno Bucciarati realizes he loves you deeply was when both of you are bathed in an afternoon's sunlight, then a humble wish gently floats into his mind, he wished to settle with you at the place where he grew under gentle care and loving warmth.

Love is when Bruno Bucciarati wants to live with you in his parents' house.

Leone Abbacchio

Your lover is fragile, closing his heart shut. If only his heart could manifest itself before your eyes, you'd see that it has deteriorated. Like a bird which has fallen a many times, Abbacchio came back more bitter than before. His nightmares won't go away, it'll never disappear. But, why? Why did you have to enter his life? Is fate playing a cruel joke? Those questions ran through his head.

Abbacchio was afraid to love you, he fears that if he laid a hand on you, even if it was a feather-like touch, you'll end up damaged like him. Abbacchio doesn't trust himself to be near you. Yet, you never left him despite the unpleasant way he treated you. It's as if you knew he doesn't mean it, that it was all an act, as if you knew he's wailing and grieving behind his scowl, that he's clawing at the walls he built around his heart, hungry for the love he didn't knew he desperately needs. That is when a thought enters his mind, and Abbacchio realizes he loves you. He is worthy, even though bruised and battered, damaged beyond repair, he deserves to be loved.

Love is when Leone Abbacchio wants you to be next to him as he faces the cruel reality.

Guido Mista

So far, Mista's life has been ordinary. Same old days, same old stuffs, same old people. And what about love? Whenever he saw cute girls, he would shot his chance, even if he got rejected. But, he leaves it at that. What is love to Guido Mista? Love is just another pleasure, another aspect of life that has to be enjoyed. Pursuing true love is something complex, something a simple man wouldn't do. And that's what he believes too as he courts you.

Bit by bit Mista came to know that you are not just another pleasure, you are someone important to him, someone who he bonds with. In the end, Guido Mista learns that love takes effort. He is a simple-minded man, but not ignorant. He couldn't just reap the joys of love without acknowledging the endeavors which runs behind the scenes. Mista doesn't want to lose you, not when there's only one you in this world. This feeling wasn't just a mixture of adrenaline and dopamine like chasing flings after flings, he realizes that what he's feeling is deeper, it's love.

Love is when Guido Mista is willing to put effort into your love, no matter how complicated it is.

Narancia Ghirga

Short-tempered, childish, rough, yet his heart was nothing but gold. Is that even possible? Well, why not? Does he ever even concern himself about love? Likewise, that concept never crossed his mind, rather, he forgot what it feels like to be loved. The love he received from his mother was a long gone memory, forgotten in the mists of time. And, in time, he also forgot how to love. The form of affection he understood is that of friendship. While it's not incorrect or even God forbids an inferior kind of love, Narancia still doesn't understand it.

Narancia's form of love is often said to be childish, like a flickering fire that burns brighter with twirling sparks. Even if it's not perfect, it's a good start. Besides, there's nothing wrong with indulging in his jovial antics.....most of the time. Narancia, the silly boy, has a silly form of love. The values he held would make you chuckle or giggle from time to time, because above all, Narancia is innocent. Although, you do have a tendency to call him cute. Narancia doesn't mind, but he wants to be seen as a man, not a mere child. He pouts at times when you called him "cute".

Love is when Narancia Ghirga wants you to tell him, from the bottom of your heart, that he's "cool".

Pannacotta Fugo

How? How did he even knew that he loves you? Nobody has ever taught Fugo what love is, except for the library books. For him, who've never known love, you are an anomaly. He tried to find any explanation to why he felt endorphin and serotonin pumping through his brain. Fugo is smart enough to know it's love, but, he couldn't find any particular reason as to why he fell in love with you. He read once in a book, 'If you love someone without knowing why, that is love.' From then on, he stopped trying to seek the answers, and opts to accept that it is what is.

My dear, you already know how Fugo is, but there is something you don't know. The moment he knew he genuinely loves you is when you understood him, not his mind, but his heart. You understand that his explosive anger, which disgusts even Fugo himself, stems from sorrow. He is sad, simple as that. He is sad that Narancia won't try to improve himself, he is sad that his parents used him, he is sad that his teacher mistreated him, he is sad by what fate throws at him. What Fugo feels when he came to a realization wasn't joyous like butterflies in his stomach, it was a relieving ache, a stinging but soothing pain when he confirms that he loves you.

Love is when Pannacotta Fugo wants to show you who he really is.

Giorno Giovanna

From the day he was born, he had no one in his life. Not even his own blood and flesh. Just like Fugo, there's no one who taught him how to love. Only the unknown mafioso has treated him like a proper individual. That is why Giorno used the mask of a polite, charming gentleman to compensate for his flaw. It did work, but as soon as he was faced with you, the façade soon crumbles into dust. His vulnerable side came out, showing a child with a fear of abandonment. At first, he was attached to you, soon it turned into admiration, then endearment, and finally a profound emotion which intensity overwhelmed him. You could call it...love? Fondness?

Now, what are you? A question he denies but knows the answer to. Dear, to Giorno, you are a drug. Yes, though Giorno Giovanna loathes the existence of drugs, in truth, his hypocrisy runs deep because you are the closest thing there is to a drug. You made Giorno lost his mind, logic, and reason. His heart softens if it involves you. And he was addicted to your presence. You are something he can't let go, what else should we call you if not a drug? At the end of the day, Giorno respects you for you. You are his equal, the donna to his don, the Cosette to his Marius Pontmercy. He finally revealed his true self, lying beneath the resolve he bore. Giorno realized he loved you, after he showed you the what he truly is, neither a demon nor a god, but just an ordinary someone who yearns for love.

Love is when Giorno Giovanna-- no, Haruno Shiobana trusts you enough to cry in front of you, freely and sincerely.

.....belongs to only you, my beloved.

[opbackgrounds]

So if kinda of a long question and I will really appreciate if to hear your take on this , I started watching and reading one piece not that long ago and robin became my fevorite character in the series , because her story and character is so interesting and complex and I do believe that him the final saga she will be one of the most important characters in it, but then I remember that she started as a villain and was working with crocodile to destroy an entire kingdom and she didn’t seem to have a problem with it ,and that was forgiven easily and was not brought up again in the plot, and now I have a problem with liking because it’s hard for me to know that she didn’t care about letting innocent people get hurt despite she has experienced in the past and I feel like until i will not see a redemption arc or at least for her that ties directly with what she did in alabsta , or at least an apology for what she did there to vivi once she will meet her again , I will have a hard time to like and relate to her character again. I know that you also like robin and that she is also your favorite character in the series and that you understand her character better then I ever will , so my point is how does that not bother you to like her character even though what she did in alabsta and that ? Because I dont want that bother me as well because now every time that I see her in the anime or in the manga I am reminded that she Helped to almost ruining a peaceful kingdom and and harming a lot of Innocent people and she didn’t care about it, i know that because of her past she didn’t care about the world but that still bother’s me.

Well, mostly it’s because Alabasta isn’t a real place and the people who suffered don’t exist. There’s nothing wrong with liking a character whose done bad things and don’t regret it —some of my favorite characters in all of fiction are absolute shitbags with no redeeming qualities. Fiction exists as a safe place to engage with scenarios that would be unpleasant or taboo in real life, and to me how the story handles those kinds of subjects is much more important than fretting whether or not they’re problematic or bad in the first place. I wouldn’t like it if the narrative pretended that Robin did nothing wrong, but the story itself does not care. Maybe someday if Vivi reunites with the crew we might get something between her and Robin, but not even she the princess whose country was nearly ruined by Robin’s actions is upset that she’s traveling with the crew. One Piece is not a series that concerns itself with right and wrong. They’re pirates. It literally does not matter.

But for the sake of argument, let’s take a minute to think about what might have driven Robin to that place to begin with. Because she did try to lead a normal life as a kid, even after getting her bounty. And every time she tried, the people around her tried to have her arrested or killed because they were too afraid or too tempted by the price on her head. She had no choice but to turn to a life of of crime, and that life led her to Crocodile.

Why should someone who had been mistreated their entire life give a flying fuck about the lives of people who would kill her if given half a chance? Because, sure, maybe if Robin ended up at King Cobra’s doorstep as a kid he might have protected her, but probably not. Just like his citizens would have turned over an eight year old to the marines to be executed. It’s simple, bloody arithmetic: kill or be killed. After twenty years, no wonder Robin stopped caring about the people she was hurting to achieve her goals. The entire world literally wanted her dead.

Instead of getting into the morality of what someone in those desperate circumstances might do, One Piece is a story about how you can grow past that with the help of people who truly care about you. That’s just as important as any good vs evil story out there, because there are a lot of people like Robin in the world who deserve just as much empathy and kindness even if they’ve done terrible things in their past.

Even if none of that was true and Robin was just sort of an asshole who didn’t mind the fact that she nearly destroyed a country, it doesn’t matter. She’d probably still be my favorite because I latched onto her as a kid like a baby duck and declared her mine. Sometimes that’s all there is to it, and that’s okay. Bad people can be interesting characters. Maybe I wouldn’t want to go out to get lunch, but reading about them is fun, and at the end of the day reading *should* be fun.

[write-nerdy-to-me]

~ destiel fic, hurt/comfort, 1k words, for @castielsdisciple​  

“Be still,” Dean murmurs to Cas when he flinches away again. He’s tried to minimize how much he pokes and digs, knowing what a bitch it is to be on the business end of pliers, but he can’t help that some of the shards are buried deep. He waits patiently as Cas takes a large swallow from the whiskey bottle he’s clutched like a lifeline, then Dean picks out yet another broken glass piece and drops it into the cup next to his hip.  

It couldn’t have just been a cut-and-dry D-list case, because life — this life especially — doesn't work like that. It was inevitable for shit to go sideways on them, and it’s laughable, fucking inane Dean ever dared to think otherwise. (“Good things do happen, Dean,” Cas said to him once. Dean’s still not convinced that's true.) 

Dean doesn’t know what it is about Cas, but the monster, like, fixated on him. The whole night, no matter how hard Dean fought to get the ugly bastard's attention, it kept going after Cas. Then monster grabbed and fucking bodily tossed him out the window and let out a roar that felt like it shook the whole house; Dean's only felt his heart leap into his throat like that a few times. He didn't get time to even process what happened because the monster, having taken out one opponent, turned and advanced on him. Dean had to finish the job alone, not knowing if Cas was even still alive. He ran to find Cas lying on a patch of wood chips, shattered glass surrounding him like a halo. Those few short moments felt like several lifetimes as he slid to his knees next to Cas, who was winded and aching and breathing. ("You alive?" Dean asked, and Cas huffed out a pained laugh and flipped him the bird. "Yeah — yeah, you're alive, you asshole.") 

Dean could swear that Cas has a deathwish or something because the reckless motherfucker refused to be checked out at the hospital. Dean insisted that he needed to go, as only so much could be done with the sparse supplies they had. They argued, and in the end, Cas’ stubborn glare won out. If he was gonna be like that, then Dean figured the sooner they get a move on and save Cas from his own bullheaded stupidity, the better. The last thing they need is Cas getting an infection. And the way he climbed into the Impala, slow, graceless, hiding his winces and grinding his teeth, only further proved that they should head to the hospital, but Dean held his tongue.

The ride back to the motel was, to say the least, unpleasant. In their room, it’s not much better. 

For the past hour now, Dean’s painstakingly removed a myriad of embedded glass and wood shards from Cas’ back, wiped away the blood, and applied ice to the welts that have already turned angry and dark. Cas hasn’t said a word since their fight— that disagreement back at the old farmhouse, but Dean's talked plenty for the both of them. He’s lost count of how many times he’s repeated this mantra: Be still, be still. How many times it’s followed by tiny plinks of glass and wood into a plastic cup. Dean would think Cas finds it patronizing — insulting, even — if it weren’t for the way the coiled tension in Cas’ shoulders starts to ease whenever he speaks. If it makes this process easier for him… well, then who’s Dean to deny him?

“Be still. I know, I know. I’m sorry.” Another glass piece. Plink.

The A/C unit in the corner kicks over with a wheeze. Cas says, “I don’t deserve this,” in a voice so hushed Dean would’ve missed it if he wasn’t sitting right behind him. 

Dean’s hands stop, just for a moment. Plink, plink. “What are you talking about?”

Cas sighs. “I don’t deserve this. Your attention, your care, your lo—” He cuts himself off, arms coming around his middle and shoulders hunching away from Dean’s hands. A soft hiss escapes his lips as the motion tugs sharply at his wounds. He sounds like wishes he could take back the words the second they leave his mouth and hates himself for it. “Your kindness. I don’t deserve it.”

How could Cas think so little of himself? Believe himself so unworthy that he shouldn’t even receive the most basic care? But Dean gets it, maybe more than Cas realizes. “That’s bullshit,” Dean says mildly. Plink. 

“Dean...” Cas starts to shift further away from him, and that won’t do, because he needs to listen, needs to hear what Dean’s telling him, and he won’t if he’s already sinking into himself. 

“Don’t, I’m not finished,” Dean admonishes quietly. “I’m serious. Don’t move.” He touches Cas’ waist and— and he just stills with a shaky breath. If this were any other time, Dean would dwell on how Cas caves at the slightest touch initiated from him, how he always just lets him.

When it seems like Cas isn’t on the verge of bolting, Dean says, “I know there's something about this case that got to you bad — don’t think I didn’t notice, man.” Hunts aren't easy, and unexpected bodies turning up are never something a good hunter takes lightly, but Cas seemed to take each one like a devastating blow. Dean tried to press Cas about it, and he shook off Dean’s worry and pretended that everything was fine. Dean doesn't have to be a good hunter to know Cas was lying. “Why won’t you talk to me?”

Cas turns his face away. “There’s nothing to talk about.” A beat. Then, “I think you’d be better off hunting with Sam again.”

The fuck? Taken aback, heat starts to crawl up Dean’s face. Part of him wants to be angry — hell, he kinda is, underneath the hurt — but he takes a breath and lets it out slowly, for once grateful Cas is facing the other way. “I like hunting with you. Besides, Sam's got his club going on, and anything with Eileen he likes to be involved.”

“Maybe you should have a different partner. One that doesn’t fuck up.”

“Everyone fucks up,” Dean says defensively. “Cas, if this is about what you did, you’re already forgiven for that—” 

But Cas isn’t listening. The dam's busted open. “I’m supposed to— I used to be an angel. My powers, I could... I could help you, I could help Sam, but now I can’t — I can’t even do that.” Cas covers his face with his hands, rakes them roughly up through his hair. “I’m — I’m useless.”

Dean’s heart clenches sharply. He knew that the fading powers and subsequent loss of them had been hard on Cas, but Dean didn’t know it was affecting him this badly. Then he feels like an asshole, because of course this was, for fuck's sake. “Cas…”

Cas turns around, winces as he moves too quickly. He touches Dean’s face with gentle, hesitant fingers. There are scrapes and cuts Dean hasn’t taken care of yet, too occupied with making sure Cas doesn’t get a damn infection. Cas’ eyes grow sad; his brow furrows. “I miss— With a touch, I could heal you. I wouldn’t need you to care for me this — this way.” 

“Cas, man, you gotta know that it’s never been about your powers. You’re not a-a tool, Cas. All I want— It’s just you. I told you, man. I’d rather have you. Nothing’s ever gonna change that.”

Cas is quiet for a minute. “Your faith... I've always admired it. How you put your trust in people. You're a good man, Dean."

"Yeah, well." Dean clears his throat. "Gotta make up for all the bad shit I've done, right?"

Cas hums, unconvinced. He grabs the damp rag that held the ice, shaking out the remaining pieces. He doesn’t seem to care where the ice landed. "Let me?" 

Dean almost says no, he's fine, but something in the way Cas looks at him... "Okay."

Cas wipes away the dried blood on Dean's face. Lately, he and Cas would be arguing, if they weren’t busy giving each other the cold-shoulder. It’s not the first time they’ve been at opposite ends or had disagreements — Dean refuses to say they bickered — not by a long shot. It’s just... been a while. Dean thought they were past petty fights. Now, though, they fall into a comfortable silence, for once not thick with tension from the unsaid. 

Cas’ thumb traces over the scar on Dean's chin, and he says, a hopeless look in his eye, "I love you. Did you know that?"

Dean just breathes and touches Cas' wrist. "Cas..."

"You don't have to say anything. I just thought you should know."

Dean tugs the rag out of Cas' hand. His mind is taking a second to reboot. But he knows — he knows he needs to kiss Cas right now. "C’mere," he mumbles and cups Cas' face between his palms and presses their mouths together. When they separate to breathe, Dean says, “It’s always you, Cas. You know that.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I love you.” The smile Cas gives him is soft and crooked and still sad. Dean’s not stupid; he knows things with Cas are rocky at best, but it’s a start. “Now turn back around so I can get the rest of the junk out, asshole.”

[aftgficrec]

fics that have andrew dealing with internalized victim blaming pleasee. oh and there was was a fic in which andrew is depressed and neil keeps helping him and he doesn’t like it but one time he asks neil for help when everyone keeps talking to him. it’s a 5+1 i think. but i can’t find it anywhere :(

Internalized victim blaming shows up for Andrew in different ways, including struggling with his sexuality. It’s tricky to find if not tagged, but we have a few for you.

You can also check out this Andrew struggling with his sexuality ask

We think the 5+1 you’re searching for is ‘when i’m falling (i’m at peace).’ You’ll find it at the end of this post. - A

Andrew with internalized victim blaming or internalized homophobia

hold me down (I deserve it) by ceinno [Rated M, 917 Words, Complete, 2021]

There was no punishment worse than life. Death would have been a mercy at that point.

tw: rape/noncon, tw: csa, tw: blood, tw: internalized victim blaming, tw: internalized homophobia, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced drug use

the icarus to your certainty by sinistercacophony [Rated E, 11216 Words, Complete, 2020]

Andrew knows how to get what he wants. He knows how to ask, how to indicate boundaries, and how to stab someone in the gut if they choose to ignore those boundaries. That’s really all he’s ever needed. He doesn’t let men touch him. He doesn’t let people get close enough to try.

Except Neil.

Except he wants Neil. In ways he’s never wanted anyone before. Never trusted anybody before.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: alcohol, tw: flashbacks, tw: suicidal self talk, tw: panic attacks, tw: ptsd, tw: internalized victim blaming

Picking Up The Pieces by Avialle [Rated M, 4703 Words, Complete, 2021]

They are still figuring this out.

Intimacy is a difficult topic for both of them, but for Neil it’s just something unfamiliar that leaves him overwhelmed or with an unpleasant ache in his chest at its worst.

For Andrew on the other hand, it’s a threatening concept, leaving him all vulnerable and helpless as it tears open old wounds and memories too horrible to remember.

--

Or: How Andrew is fighting with his demons but eventually allows Neil to help him through it.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: self harm, tw: blood, tw: self hatred

Yes, No, Knives & Stones by matte_grey [Rated M (we say T), 5798 Words, Complete, 2021]

Andrew recalls when he figured out he was gay.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced suicide attempt, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced child abandonment, tw: implied/referenced drug addiction, tw: implied/referenced underage prostitution, tw: violence, tw: alcohol

wrapped in shades of red by viridae [Rated M, 1666 Words, Complete, 2018]

The world has too many broken promises for Andrew to believe in any of them.

or, Andrew Minyard comes to terms with being gay.

tw: rape/noncon, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: internalized homophobia, tw: homophobia, tw: vomit, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced drug addiction, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: alcohol

Open Smother by ionlyloveyouironically [Rated M, ​​3757 Words, Complete, 2017]

Before he was Andrew Minyard, he was Andrew Doe, and he exiled himself to juvie all for a brother he didn't know.

tw: self harm, tw: csa, tw: rape/noncon, tw: blood, tw: internalized homophobia

If I Don't Keep Up My Light by Me_Being_Difficult [Rated T, 13706 Words, Complete, AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2021]

Andrew Spear had been entrusted with a solemn duty of taking care of the lighthouse and something else for the past decade. He’s lonely, secretive, and filled with despair.

Neil Josten had been delivering supplies to Andrew every month for last two years. He’s free, curious and in love.

Neil Josten will definitely get to the bottom of all of Andrew’s secrets whether Andrew likes it or not.

*This is a part of AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2021 and is based on song Sleepy Hollow by Su Lee*

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: violence, tw: murder, tw: fire, tw: nightmares, tw: alcohol

Andrew rejects then accepts Neil’s help 5+1

when i'm falling (i'm at peace) by melopeya [Rated M, 8487 Words, Complete, 2020]

Andrew has always been the one others look to for protection, for saving, for safety. He’s made his share of deals, wielded knives for others, fought battles that weren’t his to fight. Having someone else do the same for him, to want to do the same for him, is a disturbing and frightening prospect. But maybe, just maybe, it doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

Or: 5 times Andrew pushed away Neil’s protection + 1 time he asked for it

[chamomileteainabuttercup]

In my not-really-formed Pirate Boba AU, in which instead of going to prison for that little unpleasantness concerning Jango's armour and a certain amount of attempted murder, he escapes along with Hondo Ohnaka who adopts him into his motley crew and teaches him the ways of piracy and swashbuckling, I think they'd have some awkward but important conversations on the theme "what Jango would have wanted."

In The Clone Wars it's Hondo who persuades Boba to give up the location of the hostages taken from the ship Endurance to the Jedi; Boba has been in some moral conflict about how best to deal with the hostages, and he's been shocked by how ruthless Aurra Sing is in killing anyone who crosses her or no longer suits her plans. We know, but it's unclear whether Boba does (the old YA novels suggested he was uncomfortably aware but didn't want to think too much about it), that Jango similarly discarded his partner/subcontractor Zam Wesell when she was captured by the Jedi, shooting her with a poisoned dart before she could reveal his name. It's also unclear whether Hondo believes what he's saying, or is simply trying to appeal to the better nature he sees in Boba by saying whatever will let him give himself permission to do the decent thing, when he tells him Jango was honourable and would want him to spare the hostages' lives.

I mean, the whole reason I want Hondo to adopt Boba, besides the fact that Hondo is funny and I like him, is that he was the only adult Boba trusted who encouraged him to choose something other than the most violent and destructive path available, and he deserves that as well as the loyalty that Bossk, for example, shows for him in Actual Adult Prison (© Gravity Falls).

I imagine Boba initially finding it hard to accept Hondo taking care of him, perhaps saying that he should be making his own way in the galaxy now.

Hondo: Tell me, would your father have kicked you out to fend for yourself at this tender age?

Boba: ...no.

Hondo: He wanted to see you grow up and take pride in your accomplishments, right?

Boba: ...yeah.

Hondo: So I'm simply going to act on his behalf and carry out his wishes. Besides, it's not as if I'm going to baby you. I'm a dastardly pirate! Let's get you a hat.

Over time, and as he hears more stories about the now-legendary bounty hunter his father was, Boba develops doubts about what Hondo told him back then, and being an angsty adolescent tends to see things in strict all-or-nothing terms.

Boba: Tell me the truth. Was my dad really an honourable man?

Hondo: "Truth" is such a vague word. People are complicated.

Boba: So you just lied to me. You tricked me. He wasn't honourable at all.

Hondo: At most I fibbed. And what do you expect? I'm a pirate! (He's trying to play it off lightly, but he can see Boba's chin is trembling and he has to sit down.)

Boba: I don't know if anything I believed about him was true. I don't even know if he loved me.

Hondo (sitting down beside him): No. You do know that. And I know. When we worked together he couldn't shut up about you, he was so proud of you. Not just the skills you were learning. The cute things you did and the funny things you said. The last time I saw him before you were born, he was talking about his project to raise the ultimate bounty hunter. He called you "the project." The next time? All he could talk about was his baby boy. Whatever else you believe about Jango, believe he loved you more than he ever thought possible.

Boba (after a deep breath): So you'd say he was complicated?

Hondo: At his best, he was honourable. No one is always at their best. That's as close to the truth as I get.

(And Boba leans his head against Hondo's shoulder and Hondo gently pats his back.)

[heartless-symphony]

Word of love

Just an other one shot to make myself feel better 

MASTERLIST

~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~ ~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~

Word of love

Ship : Spencer Reid x Reader

Type : Fluff

Warning : mention of a case, blood, kidnapping, curse word, gunshots

~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~ ~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~

1- JJ

When you had met Spencer, you immediately figured him out. The way he was holding himself, the constant fidgeting, you could tell he was a shy person. At least, he was toward you. Of course, you had only just joined the team a few months ago, so he didn’t know you that much. But it was easy to say that there was something off about him, the way he never met your eyes, never had those full-on rants you so often overheard. You weren’t close, because of that. He didn’t really let you get close to him, to be fair, no matter how hard you tried. So you gave up, deciding that if it was meant to be, it would just take time and you shouldn’t rush it. 

That’s why, the first time it actually hit you in the face, you were surprised. You hadn’t let yourself get too attached –or so you thought. You had tried to put up a wall between the both of you, just like he had done. But as you were all in the emergency room, surrounding JJ’s bed, and as you heard him whisper a soft ‘I love you’ to his best friend, it hit you really, really hard. You realized a few things, all at once. First, it was the first time he actually showed a hint of emotions in front of you, and you shouldn’t have found it as adorable as you did. Second, you should not have felt jealous of JJ at this minute. Yes, a very adorable, cute, smart FBI agent had just told her he loved her –in a friendly way, you needed to remind yourself- but he said it because she was in actual danger. She had been shot during a case and so you were all here, hoping for her to get better. There was nothing –nothing- to be jealous of. Finally, what really hit you was the way you couldn't stop looking at him, wanting to take his hand, tell him everything will be okay and his friend would be fine. You wanted to be close to him. Which, considering how much distance you both tried to put between you, was weird. Unpleasant. 

When it hit you, you looked away. You shook it off. You didn’t allow yourself to feel anything. You couldn’t. You weren’t allowed to fall for him. 

 2- Motherly love

The second time it happened, you –almost- saw it coming. You were all in Vegas, and you were about to go home after a very tiring case. Spencer, of course, went to see his mom, and Emily had decided to pick him up from there right before leaving, and you just ended up in the car with her as you were driving to the airport. You made your way to the parking lot of the facility, before jumping out of the car. Emily waited for you as you walked to the door, going to get the genius. When you saw him, he was hugging his mom tightly, like it would be the last time. He was resting his head against hers, and you heard him whisper a sweet ‘I love you’, before letting go of her. She smiled sadly, in that way mothers do, and gently patted his cheeks. Blushing a bit, he turned to face you. He looked even redder and you smiled softly. You had always admired the way he was treating his mother, doing his best. You knew it wasn’t easy with the job and it was even worse for him. He had so much love for his mother that it made you feel happy, for her, for him, for the both of them. No matter the hard times they had to go through, they survived and were stronger every day. You admired that in them, their way to take their pain and turn it into love. 

When Spencer arrived at your level, his cheeks had gone back to a normal color, but he still had a slightly ashamed look, like he hadn’t wanted you to see him so vulnerable. But you couldn’t care less and you made it very clear, opening the door without a word and walking back to the car. Before taking his seat, he sent you a shy smile and you couldn’t help but look down to hide your own. Letting your guard down was probably the right thing to do, because some people deserved the pain. Because even if it turned badly, you could grow from it. So why keep your heart away from such a compassionate boy? 

 3- Love you all

It was his birthday, and you hadn’t gotten him anything. Well, not really at least. JJ had hoped for one single gift where everyone would participate, and you had jumped on the occasion. That way you were sure he would get something he liked, without you having to worry about anything at all –like him hating your gift. So, you didn’t know what JJ had gotten and when she got in the bullpen with nothing but a simple envelope, you couldn’t help but worry. Maybe she had changed her mind, or maybe it was something stupid. You had thoughts about buying him books, something like that, but not a letter. You were freaking out, silently, sitting at your desk, watching her make her way to spencer. She handed him the envelope and smiled, and you got up, just like the others, to surround the boy as to watch his reaction. You were further away, as usual. You may like him, but you knew he wasn’t feeling the same and he was still very, very cold with you. 

You almost didn’t see him open the letter, but you very soon recognized the two tickets in his hands as he took them out. The vintage-looking picture, the handwriting. 

‘Tickets for the ‘Letters through ages’ exposition?’ 

The team didn’t know who to look at. You had both screamed at the same time, interest cursing through your veins. You had jumped from the desk you were sitting on, rushing to Spencer’s side in complete awe of the tickets. Those kinds of tickets were rare and hard to get, only a handful of people had gotten the chance to see this exposition of vintage letters coming from all over the world, and you had dreamed of going there ever since you heard about it. Apparently, Spencer felt the same because his eyes were shining so brightly with happiness, you were almost jealous. Almost. You were too happy for him. What made your heart break a bit, though, was the second ticket. You knew more than anyone else that no one in the team –except the both of you- were interested in this kind of thing, which meant... He had someone else to take. 

‘Thank you, all, i love you guys.. I just.. I wouldn’t know who to bring with me...’ 

You blushed a bit. Of course. He didn’t have anyone, and it shouldn’t have made you feel as relieved as you did. You shrugged and looked up, only to see all eyes on you. Derek’s smirk made you squirm uncomfortably, making you think he was up to no good. And, being himself, he definitely was. 

 ‘Well, I feel like Y/N wants to come with you, don’t you ?’ 

You blushed even more, gently hitting Morgan on the shoulder. Part of you hated him for suggesting that, but the other was thankful. Maybe you would have a chance to finally see that exposition and, more than anything, you would be able to spend an evening with Spencer, just the two of you. Which sounded like a very nice idea to you. 

He looked up to you, smiling shyly, and handed you the second ticket. 

‘I do hope you’re free that evening.’ 

4- Evening together

When it happened, you weren't ready for it. Well, you should’ve, but some part of you still felt like it was unreal. You were both walking home from the show, in silence. It wasn’t awkward, compared to what you had imagined. The silence was calm, almost reassuring. Spencer's hands were in his pockets and he was looking up at the sky with a slight smile that hadn’t left his lips ever since you had arrived. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him. He looked like a little kid who had just spent the best day ever, with red cheeks, messy hair and a smile on his lips. You were feeling the same, to be honest, so you couldn’t say anything. 

 ‘I forgot to, uh... Thank you.’ 

You tilted your head and turned your head to look at him, frowning slightly. His eyes were on you and you wondered how long he had been looking at you. He bit his lip and took his hands out of his pockets, playing with his fingers. 

 ‘I mean, tonight was.. Really great. I didn’t know you like that kind of thing and I'm so glad you-you came with me. It was really... Really thoughtful. I-I loved it.’ 

You smiled and shrugged, trying to hide your own feelings. You felt great, awesome actually. The night had been so calming, walking through the alleys and reading old love letters from all ages, all origins, in different languages. And the best part had been Spencer. The minute he had picked you up, you knew you would have a good time. His walls were down, like he was suddenly more comfortable around you, trusted you more. And you loved it. He had been adorable, and if it had been a date, you would’ve easily said it was the best you had in a long time. Walking in silence surrounded by paper might sound boring to most people, but Spencer made it entertaining. You stood side by side, facing each paper as he waited for you to finish reading before moving onto the next one. When the letter was in a language you didn’t understand –which sadly didn’t happen as much as you wanted-, he would read it to you, translating every word in a soft whisper, his eyes focused on the page. He had spent the evening doing everything right, and you regretted that it wasn’t a date. He would’ve been a perfect boyfriend, and you were only wishing for him to find the best –someone who would deserve him. 

You answered with only a smile, and when he smiled back, it felt like your whole world was finally turning right. 

 5- I love you

You sort of wished he didn’t have to tell you he loved you that day. It was almost painful, because you couldn’t answer. The tape over your mouth, the tears rolling down your cheek, the gun pointed at your head... Everything was keeping you from talking. From saying it back. And even that, it wasn’t the best moment to tell a coworker you were in love with them when the both of you were held at gunpoint by an unsub. 

You knew you were about to die. Well, you thought you were. You believed in the team to save Spencer, but you were pretty sure you were done. You weren’t the one with the information the unsub needed, you weren’t the smart one, you weren’t the useful one. You were just bait, and you had been since the beginning of the case. 

Stuck in a cage, you had time to sort out your feelings, admit them to yourself and accept that you would never be able to share them with the one person you loved. Yet here he was, ruining everything, telling you he loved you as you were about to die without telling him you had felt the same ever since you first saw him. 

When you heard a gunshot and a scream, you were sure you were dead. Or wounded at least. But there was nothing, until you felt a hand under your head. 

 ‘Open your eyes, Y/N. Dammit, open your eyes.’ 

 And so you did, fluttering your eyes open, waiting for the tears to fade away to see Emily’s gentle, worried smile. You tried to move, tried to get up, but you were still tied up and you knew she was working on that. But you couldn’t think about anything else, anyone else other than the person you were thinking about for years. 

 ‘Spencer...’ 

‘He’s fine. Don’t worry, we got you.’ 

You whined, trying to get up again. This time, your feet were free and you stumbled up on your feet, fighting against the tape holding your hands together. As Emily took it off, you looked around and let out a sob when you saw the blood where Spencer had been sitting, but you quickly looked away and your eyes fell on him. This time, you cried. You ran up to him as he was sitting on the floor, Morgan next to him with a medic. But you couldn’t care less. You rushed by his side, wiping away your tears, and kneeled by his side. He looked up at you and you saw worry, relief, fear and shame in his eyes. You bit your lip, searching in his eyes, before leaning in and quickly kissing him, before moving away. 

 ‘Say it again.’ 

 ‘I love you, Y/N’