#even if i cringe sometimes at just how wrong he's misinterpreting the situation

[theheightofdishonor]

and gun misses a lot, like a lot of very obvious signals that tinn's giving but it's fair that he's not looking for them considering they've only interacted a couple of times, the fact that tinn's never actually confessed and also how tinn, though reluctantly, plays a convincing villain

And as they interact more, gun does start questioning tinn's behavior and realizing that there's more to tinn than he thinks. He discerns that he's missing something about the situation when tinn offers to help him win the tournament, even seeing through tinn's attempts at deflection and he figures out pretty fast that tinn's the guy who's been messaging him. He just doesn't have all the facts yet.

[izacore]

Of course Anne and Gemma hugging and crying while hearing the song doesn’t mean it’s about Gemma, but added to everything else, it all adds up. And he also didn’t say that ESNY was about Robin, and he was asked about it. And we know it’s about Robin because he alluded to it being about “receiving bad news about a family member” in a secret show (not in an interview). I think he just wanted songs to be relatable to fans, even if they were specific for him. Like, I think SOTT is very obviously about Matt Irwin but Harry didn’t mention it, even though he did talk about Matt other times.

About the stuttering, he was asked if it was about Louis. I don’t personally believe in Larry but I’m neutral on it, I’m not an anti. Whether Larry is real or not, imagine he wrote the song about his sister and is promoting it. And he gets asked if it’s about either his secret boyfriend or an ex bandmate people think is his boyfriend. Of course he’s gonna be taken by surprise and confused. Clearly he wasn’t expecting the question. And he did say “if you hear the lyrics you can tell what it’s about and I would lean towards no.” So in a gentle way being like “this isn’t romantic” (which, again, he said in an interview with USA Today in 2017 as well).

You can obviously think it’s cringe. But to me, Harry writing a sweet song about his sister and her getting emotional over it and his mom loving it so much is super cute. It doesn’t take away anything from anywhere else to me. I think making incest jokes is disrespectful because the song isn’t romantic at all it’s not sexual. It’s just sweet.

Like, even if you do think it’s romantic (I truly don’t see it at all), imagine you’re wrong and despite being so sure of what you believe it turns out it was always about Gemma and you were making incest jokes about them. Won’t you feel kinda bad? How would you feel if someone misinterpreted something you did for a family member as romantic and blamed you for it and said you’re a weirdo and creepy and made incest jokes?

Sometimes this fandom can lack so much empathy. We forget that the boys aren’t our friends and they’re people with feelings and thought processes that are completely separate to ours.

Why do you guys insist that the song being romantic would mean it's sexual when one automatically doesn't warrant the other lmao you can be romantic without commiting a sexual act, so this reasoning doesn't speak to me at all.

For me taking everything into consideration adds up to it being about Louis so we could have this conversation forever. I just don't understand why you all aren't so hell-bent on making other songs that use similar lyricism about Gemma? Sunflower? Kids in the kitchen - obviously about them playing during their childhood. Canyon Moon? Going back to his family home, since Gemma brings him home. We can go on and on, but in my opinion context matters 💁🏼‍♀️ Nothing was stopping Harry from simply laughing it off when asked the question in the interview. Also no, I wouldn't feel bad cause like you said, those people are not my friends, I don't know them, will never meet or talk to them so I can laugh about a situation where everyone is denying reality to prove that Harry Styles did not write a love song for his sister.

[archivewilliamrikerstblog]

I Could Really Use A Hug - William Riker x Reader

Word Count: 1000+

Summary: You find yourself in a situation you never expected - in a relationship with your First Officer. New to relationships and not wanting to do anything wrong, you struggle to convey your wants.

A/N: My reading comprehension is as bad as my writing I completely misinterpreted this request and wrote this one with a little too much of my thoughts; which I generally try to avoid.

TW for negative self-talk. 

- - - - -

It surprised even you how much your craved the innocent physical affection William Riker has to offer. Perhaps you simply didn't know what you were missing out on, having refrained from relationships in favor of career.

It works well in your favor that you often don't have to ask; Will needs little reason to dole our his affection for you. In fact, it is often he who asks before touching you. He knows much of this is new to you, you need time to navigate romance and he is more that willing to move at your pace.

The problem seems to come from you; you were hesitant to initiate anything on your own. You wanted too, of course. Even if it was just to hold his hand as you both walked through the halls, you always waited for Will to offer his hand.

You couldn't really come to a conclusion on why this seemed so hard for you, the list of possibilities endless. All you knew is that the prospect of asking for affection made your stomach churn.

Maybe you just didn't want to look needy; you made it this far in life without it. He has assure you that you could come to him at any time for any reason, but that seemed hard to believe.  You know Riker to be a busy man, best not to wear on his patience.

It is possible that you simply don't feel worthy of the attention Will gave you, he's a man who could have anyone he wanted and chose you. While he would give his reasons readily, sometimes it was hard to gauge what was exaggerated praise and honest thought.

So maybe you did have a simple reason: you didn't want to offend Will, to be the reason things came to an end. Things were still new enough to the relationship that it was a worry for you that he would decide you were too much to deal with.

You considered your best option to be to simply not say anything. It was easier to just not ask, even though you yearned to be sheltered in Will's warm embrace.

Yet it left you frustrated with yourself, and eventually it began to show.

-

A rare change of pace from the usual insanity that befalls the Enterprise, William Riker is able to take his leave of the Bridge early. He is quiet excited at the prospect of being able to surprise you in your Lab. While he visited often just to see you, it is normally you who has to wait for the First Officer to be done with his shift.

He is surprised when, upon stepping into the Lab, that you don't look well. Sitting in your chair, leaned over the desk with your head in your hands. You didn't even look up when the doors parted to allow Will inside, as if you hadn't heard the 'whoosh' of the doors sliding open.

"Y/N?" His voice is quiet, laced with confusion and concern. Will carefully picks his way across the room, head tilted to the side as he tried to get a better idea of how you were feeling.

You are slow to pull you head from your hands when you heard the call of your name. You blink up in surprise at the man standing in front of your desk.

"Oh. . . Hello Commander." You greet, trying to bring cheer into your voice. You almost cringe at how Will's expression contorts with solicitude.

"Will. Sorry. . ." You force a small smile as you make the correction.

"Are you alright?" There was a noticeable waver in his voice. This wasn't the usual sight for him. Every time he has visited you here, you appeared completely in your element. A little captain in your own right when it came to overseeing the Lab.

"Is there anything I can do?" He asks.

With a heavy sigh you shove your chair back from the desk, standing and taking a couple steps only to stop an arm's distance away.

"I. . . I could really use a hug." You're tired. Too tired to convince yourself to say anything else. You can't meet Will's gaze, looking down at your hands as you fidget with them.

There is a moment's hesitation where Will simply stared at you, brow raised. You've never asked anything of him, and he found himself pleasantly surprised. You, however, take Will's lack of action to mean you've gone a step too far.

"You don't have to if you don't want to. I just. . . I really want that right now." Your words seem to snap the First Officer from whatever was holding him in place.

Will reaches for you, gently taking hold of one of your hands before dragging you in. You stumble, crashing into his chest but he is ready to catch you. His arms come to wrap around you and you melt into the attention, slowly letting loose all the frustration you felt in the form of tears.

"Talk to me Y/N." Will asks, moving only a little to cradle your head against him. Through sniffles you finally give words to your anxieties. He listens, trying to keep his own reactions in check as he give you your time to speak.

It hurts his heart, he never would have guessed that you felt so unsure of yourself, that you felt like you didn't have the right to ask for his attention. Then to hear you sing his praises when tearing yourself down nearly broke it.

Will is hesitant to let you pull away, following after you with a hand resting on your cheek; thumbing away your tears.  

"Oh Y/N. I. . I didn't know." Will struggles to find his words; grasping for anything that might convince you out of your worries. He does the next best thing and embraces you once more.

"I don't know what has you so convinced that you can't ask these things of me, and we'll work on that. I meant every word I said. This - you - aren't a burden to me. If I could have you in my arms forever I would."

All you can do is nod, burying your face against Will's chest and allowing his reassuring words to sink in. It feels like a weight has been lifted off you. You're safe here - wanted.

  That was all you really wanted.

[just2bubbly]

Breaking the news..

Masterlist

Rumors and Affairs Chapter List

// This is an update of  What was she thinking?! 

Cinder’s Perspective: 

She decided to go through the articles. Most of them were dated from when she had escaped out of prison with Thorne. They said how Cinder had run away with her ‘lover’ criminal Thorne. She cringed on the word lover. The more recent ones were about her and Thorne at the Ball. After reading many such articles, she came across the article that was the root cause of all the rumors. It had the picture of her and Thorne standing outside the hall while the ball was going on. He had brought her outside to tell her about how he was going to propose to Cress and Cinder had become so happy to see how far her best friend had come. She had hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. Being pregnant had made her super emotional; she could have a headache or laugh over the silliest thing. The media captured this specific affectionate moment between the two and right now she wanted to kill herself for her idiosyncrasies. She was just hugging Thorne why did they have to make such a fuss about this. Well after reading the entire article she came to realize that the media had misinterpreted the scene between the two. They had thought that the two were meeting outside to have a word without the Emperor catching them and it became a bit affectionate but Empress Selene restrained herself in the fear of getting caught.

Cinder recalled how she had confined Thorne that she was literally more scared of doing childbirth than leading the lunar revolution and he had assured her in a rather affectionate way, where he did hold both of their hands on her swollen stomach. The media had definitely misinterpreted and made a fuss about it. Plus Thorne was known for his flirty personality all over the world and also Luna.

All such times she hated how the press and mass media could not have any restrictions and limitations. Stars, they should not publish stuff that they did not have a clue about.

She was having a strong headache meaning that if she had tear ducts she would be crying now or maybe she was just having a headache from frustration. Either way it was not good for her or the baby. Last month they had a riot outside the palace gate about her cyborg-ness. The hatred towards Cinder had been high time since Kai and she had announced that they have been expecting an heir soon. Kai did his best to make her feel better but she was so insecure in moments like these. After all she had received this hate since she was 11. Memories don’t fade easily, especially bad ones.

She was walking in the gardens when the whole incident had happened. The riots were peaceful but Kai and Torin were all shaken up. It looked like they had been expecting this sometime sooner or later. Well saying that Cinder was not expecting this would be a lie for she had so many nightmares about her being close to a crowd and then a riot would start where she and the baby would be harmed in some way or the other.

Cinder herself had taken so much effort to remove cyborg prejudice. Even then she had to suffer through first hand cyborg hate taking in consideration that she was the Empress of the Eastern Commonwealth.

That’s when she saw it. It was Kai. He had commed her. In a normal and peaceful situation she would be happy and bubbly(I know I just made a reference) to see him but now that the situation was anything but calm and normal. She wanted to not pick his call. Not receiving his comm won’t help her though. So she gave in.

“Hey! You took a lot of time to pick up the comm, were you sleeping?”

Seeing him in front of her eyes she just wanted to hug him and let him whisper to her that everything was fine-

“Hail to Cinder! Are you there?”

“Yeah! Why?”

“Well respond so that I can understand”

“When are you coming back?”

“Oh! I see you were so lost in thinking about me that you forgot to realize that your dear husband Kai is there in front of you! Tell me Cinder, Am I wrong? Did you spend all your time thinking about me then?”

“Don’t flatter yourself Emperor. It does not suit you well.” Technically she had been thinking about him all the time but pregnancy had not made her lose her mind so far so she would not blurt out about how she was day-dreaming about her husband.

“C’mon Cinder why can’t you just accept that you missed me?  I do it all the time.”

“Okay Kai. Tell me when are you returning now?”

“I will be there in New Beijing besides you till tomorrow afternoon. I would have left tonight but Queen Camilla invited us to dinner at the royal palace. I don’t want to go-”

“What? You will be coming tomorrow?” she screamed, maybe.

“I thought you would be sad to know that I am delaying my flight because of some stupid dinner.”

“No Kai, it is not like that. Well I certainly do miss you and am happy that you will be there here tomorrow. Stars, it has been difficult without you here but I thought you had yet a week to come and stars above I have so much stuff to do and things to fix. I just don’t have the time to do it before you get back I can’t believe I am running late on my schedule Kai I want-”

“Calm down Cinder. I had asked you to do nothing if you remembered. Plus Torin told me.”

Cinder had covered her face with her hands. She peeked at him a bit scared of his reaction. Why the hell was he being good and not yelling at her if Torin had already told him?!

“What did Torin tell you?”

“Why? Is it problematic that my advisor tells me all about you?”

“That’s not the point Kai. What did he tell you?”

“Nothin’ just how you over-work yourself and do not rest well and keep zoning out between conversations. You really do get hopeless without me.”

“Oh! That’s what Torin told you. Thank goodness”

“Why? Was there something else?”

“NO! Nothing else…. for now at least- I can’t ...I don’t know” why couldn’t she lie towards Kai as easily as she did with the others. It felt like Kai could just look through her soul and realize the truth.

“What happened Cinder? Are you okay? Is the baby okay? Did something happen to you? Did Dr.Nandez say something about the pregnancy? Cinder tell me! ” He looked desperate and all the worst possible scenarios were running through his mind now. She could tell it.

“Kai, I am fine. The baby is fine. Everyone is fine. Well not everyone because Torin and I are all panicked because I did some mistake and screwed up big time….” she trailed.

“Oh! Only that much. Well I thought something happened to you and the baby.”

He sighed before continuing, “What did you do?”

“Well it’s related to the baby. In the head staff meeting I said something that made the entire Thorne-Cinder affair rumors worse.”

“Oh.” he had not expected that.

“Can you brief me about it if it is okay for you or should I ask Torin?”

“Well I kind of blurted out that the rumors about me and Thorne are true while I was zoning out and although I tried to assure them I don’t think that they are much convinced. Shit. I screwed up Kai.”

His eyes had definitely widened. Cinder could tell that without looking. He was trying his best to remain calm but she wanted him to talk. Bloody hell she wanted him to talk now. She was a mess on the inside. Thankfully there were no new rumors about her and Thorne or any news about today’s meeting on her newsfeed yet.

There was an unwanted and suffocating silence between the two of us.

“Well you did screw up big time Cinder but it's okay. Do they know that I know about these rumors?”

“I don’t know. Mostly likely not because I think usually courting outside of marriages are to kept a secret.

“Cinder please.” She should not use sarcasm in situations like these. She nodded and whispered a sorry.

“What should we do?” she asked again trying to take a hold over this bizarre situation.

“You really cannot do anything anymore. Whatever you say will not be given much importance and most likely be doubted so you would only give a single official statement in my presence when I return. For the rest, I will come up with a plan with Torin’s help.”

“Kai stop fighting my battles. You already have done enough by not kicking me out okay. I should take responsibility of my mistakes-”

”It’s okay Cinder. Everything is okay. You and I know that we are madly in love with each other. That’s all that I care about. You would no longer over work yourself. I guess you should stop holding meetings for time being as well, you know as a precaution.” he said the last part teasingly but yet I felt disheartened.

I was glaring at him but then the rumors about our child’s parentage hit me like some train. I could not tell Kai this. He would surely be disappointed. He would be heart-broken.

What should I tell him huh- Hey Kai! The media thinks that the child I am carrying is Thorne’s and not yours. Lol, but you know the truth right?

Sue me.

“There is something more Kai.”

“What?” he asked a bit concerned, a furrowed brow forming.

“They questioned about our baby’s parentage as well”

Upon hearing this he really looked so sad. His face had fallen and he avoided looking at her.

She heard some commotion from his side.

“Cinder I have to go. I am sorry we will talk later. I will figure it out with Torin’s help. Bye. Take care.” He was croaking. Cinder had a headache coming as well.

Before she could reply, he had ended the comm.

Glancing at her net-screen Cinder sighed. There was no news about today’s meeting anywhere. Torin might have done his miracles on the staff again.

__

A/N: I am thinking about a good damage control idea, so it might take a while. Needless to say, There is more!

( I also have an another Kaider fic named ‘ Nightmares’, if you like Kaider fluff you can check it out!!  🖤 )

Likes, Reblogs and Comments will be much loved!  🖤

P.S Can you suggest some baby names for Kaider child, both the gender please.  

[magic-and-moonlit-wings]

Chapter 55: Movie Night

Lots of quotes from the movie Lilo & Stitch ahead! Fewer quotes, but some, from Trolls and Frozen.

Bold italics are trollish, ~tildes~ indicate goblin.

Content warnings for this chapter: Swearing. Here we reach the story's first F-bomb.

Also, there is some talk between characters about the harshness of life in the Darklands, how Changelings are treated by the Gumm-Gumms, and mentions of cannibalism.

This was supposed to be a light-happy chapter that got feels-y at the end, but then it went and got all dark on me.

Oh, also-also, (Not) Enrique finds out Claire flirted with Jim a while ago and misinterprets what exactly happened between them, but that gets cleared up fast.

Becoming The Mask

Once again, Javier and Ophelia Nuñez were out for the evening, leaving Claire in charge of Enrique. Claire had gotten permission to invite "some friends" over to watch movies. Jim and Toby arrived to find Mary and Darci already there – Jim suspected, like the time he'd 'babysat', that Claire had purposefully asked him to arrive after she knew her parents would be gone.

They set up piles of cushions and blankets on the floor between the couch and the TV. Jim propped the Amulet up on the coffee table they'd pushed to one side. Maybe some of the ghost Trollhunters would be interested in human movies.

"Finally get your fill of the touchy-feelies?" Enrique teased Jim, seeing how they were all seated separately. Jim snorted.

"Not hardly." He pulled the smaller Changeling in for a hug. "Humans just have different rules about casual touching, is all. Freezing to death's not really a concern in this climate."

"Wait, what?" said Toby, dropping the pillow he'd been holding. Jim looked up to see all the humans staring at him.

"Darklands thing," said Enrique easily. "Gets cold there."

"We'd sleep in piles," Jim explained. "I had a bit of a reputation for being … clingy."

"If you weren't good at finding food and soft stuff, we'd never've put up with ya." Enrique proved himself a liar by climbing onto Jim's shoulders instead of jumping back to the floor. He fluffed the hair on Jim's scalp. "Jimmy-boy got his first nickname for that."

"Shut up," said Jim playfully. "Anyway, humans get weird about touching around puberty. I can still hug Mom whenever I want, but Toby gets embarrassed if I hug him around other people, and Claire, Mary, and Darci haven't given me permission to touch them casually yet."

"… Did you … want permission?" asked Claire. "You, kinda, said you were uncomfortable with that, I thought."

"No, it was more wondering if you were flirting with me that felt weird," Jim assured her. "After that conversation I felt like it'd be awkward to bring up that I was open to hugging and such."

Jim thought he felt Enrique growl, to quietly to properly hear. His hand, still in Jim's hair, changed position so the tips of Enrique's claws were on Jim's scalp.

"When exactly did this happen?" Enrique asked.

"Claire kissed Jim on the cheek on his birthday and then Jim said he wasn't interested in dating her," said Mary.

"Also that I realized she might not have meant it in a flirty way and if I was misinterpreting things she could ignore what I was saying," Jim added. The claws retreated.

Claire looked away. "So what movie did we want to start with?"

"Lilo & Stitch!" exclaimed Darci, looking through the shelves. "I haven't watched this in forever!"

"That's a good one." Jim tilted his head to get Enrique back in his peripheral vision. "Enrique, have you seen it yet?"

"… Yeah."

"Isn't that the one that always makes you cry?" asked Toby.

"It's beautiful. Of course I cry."

Stitch was a constructed 'abomination', who shapeshifted to blend in, and his adopted family found out what he truly was and still wanted him. How could Jim be expected to keep his composure in the face of that?

"So, quick question," said Jim. "Is talking during the movie a crime, or is commentary what makes it a group activity?"

"Commentary," said all three girls together.

"Okay, good." Jim and Toby usually talked during movies, unless one or both of them were seeing it for the first time. Sometimes even then.

+=+

"Not guilty! My experiments are only theoretical, and completely within legal boundaries."

"We believe you actually created something."

"Created something? Ha! But that would be irresponsible, and, unethical. I would never, ever – make more than one."

"What is that monstrosity?"

"Monstrosity?! What you see before you is the first of a new species!"

"You have to wonder if she and Merlin ever had a talk like this," Enrique muttered in Jim's ear. Jim snickered.

"And as for that abomination … it is the flawed product of a deranged mind. It has no place among us."

Jim stopped laughing and cringed. He loved this movie a lot, but some of it stung.

+=+

"A quiet capture would require an understanding of 626 that we do not possess! Who, then, Mr Pleakley, would you send for his extraction?"

"… Does he have a brother? Close grandmother, perhaps?"

"Fun fact," said Darci, "in early drafts Stitch was a career criminal and Jumba was an old accomplice."

"Friendly cousin? Neighbour with a beard?"

+=+

"Surely the teacher won't notice I was late if he doesn't see me come in!" Claire narrated sarcastically.

+=+

"I'm sorry, Scrump!" Mary wailed, as Lilo ran back to retrieve the doll she'd angrily thrown aside.

+=+

"Let me illuminate to you the precarious situation in which you have found yourself. I am the one they call when things go wrong. And things have indeed gone wrong."

"As a cook, that kitchen horrifies me," said Jim.

+=+

"If you promise not to fight anymore, I promise not to yell at you – except on special occasions."

"Tuesdays and bank holidays would be good."

The entire group cracked up.

"How does kid Lilo's age even know what a bank holiday is?" said Claire. "I don't even know what a bank holiday is!"

"Maybe she saw it printed on a calendar?" said Toby.

+=+

A raindrop fell on Stitch's head. He fired his ray gun into the sky. It started raining, hard.

"Oh, no, I broke the sky!" Darci cried.

+=+

"Does it have to be this dog?"

"He survived getting hit by a truck, how much more sturdy and not-gonna-die do you want?" asked Jim.

"Yes. He's good. I can tell."

+=+

"I'm sorry I bit you. And pulled your hair. And punched you in the face."

Mary nudged Claire. "Remind you of anyone?"

Like sunflowers, everyone else popped up and turned towards them.

Claire blushed. "We got into a fight in first grade and for like two days we decided we didn't want to be friends anymore, then our moms made us say sorry."

"He will be irresistibly drawn to large cities, where he will back up sewers, reverse street signs, and steal everyone's left shoe."

"It's weird they get in trouble for everything but this," commented Enrique. "Human grown ups might not believe a dog stole a trike, but wouldn't they think Lilo did it? She's fought the other kid before."

"It's nice to live on an island with no large cities."

+=+

"It's not an angel, Lilo, I don't even think it's a dog!"

"Isn't that the rolling thing Draal can do?" said Toby.

"Yeah, more or less," said Jim. "I mean, I don't think Draal bites his feet – but maybe that's the trick."

"At least with those stick legs you've got," said Enrique. He curled into a ball and rolled in a circle around the group. "Face it, you're out of proportion for this move."

+=+

"626 was designed to be a monster. But now, there is nothing to destroy. You see, I never gave him a greater purpose. What must it be like, to have nothing? Not even memories to visit, in the middle of the night?"

"Now, this next bit I don't care for," said Jim. "The Ugly Duckling is a messed-up story."

"What've you got against The Ugly Duckling?" asked Mary.

"The blatant segregationist propaganda? 'A swan will never fit in with ducks and everyone is better off sticking with their own kind'. You don't even have to read it as a race metaphor. Between that and The Little Mermaid, I thought for while that Hans Christian Anderson was a Changeling writing cautionary tales about why we shouldn't get attached to humans."

"… Was he?" asked Claire.

"Probably not. I couldn't find any real evidence and the rest of his work doesn't match the pattern."

"Counterpoint," said Darci. "The Ugly Duckling is pro-integration. Everyone thought he was an ugly duckling because they didn't know what swans look like. If he'd grown up with ducks and swans around, they could've judged him for what he was instead of what he couldn't measure up to, and he might've had a happy childhood instead of only finding a community that accepted him as an adult."

Jim considered this, and nodded. "I guess I can see that, too."

+=+

"Heard you lost your job."

"Well, uh, actually, I just quit. That job. Because, you know, the hours are just not conducive to the challenges of raising a child –"

"Nani, no!" Jim begged. "I know almost nothing about Social Services but I'm pretty sure choosing to leave your only source of income looks worse to them than just losing it!"

"Thus far you have been adrift in the sheltered harbour of my patience; but I cannot ignore you being jobless. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly."

"And next time I see this dog, I expect it to be a model citizen. Capiche?"

"Uh … yes?"

"New job. Model citizen. Good day."

+=+

"So, we saw Cobra on the beach after all the tourists got scared off … D'you think he was just standing there watching them the whole time?" Mary wondered out loud after the surfing sequence.

+=+

"Until we meet again …"

Lilo was about to tell Stitch about her parents. Without thinking, Jim grabbed the remote – on the coffee table, next to the amulet – to fast forward.

"What are you doing?" Darci cried. "This is one of the big emotional turning points of the film!"

Jim paused it. "Sorry. Uh … Tobes and I usually skip this scene."

"I think I can handle it," Toby assured Jim. To the girls and Enrique, he explained, "My parents died in a storm when I was two. A cruise ship, not a car accident. I got kind of upset the first time we watched this as kids, and, we got in the habit fast forwarding this part. I think I'm okay with it now."

"You're sure?" asked Jim.

"I'm sure."

"Okay …" He rewound to the point where he'd started fast forwarding.

"That's us before. It was rainy, and they went for a drive. What happened to yours?"

Jim watched Toby more than the movie for the next few minutes.

"I'll remember you, though. I remember everyone that leaves."

"Do you remember them?" Claire asked quietly.

"Only the stuff Nana tells me." Toby shrugged, and readjusted the cushions he'd propped up his arms on. "I've seen lots of pictures. A couple home movies."

+=+

"Don't run. Don't make me shoot you. You were expensive. Yes, yes, that's it, come quietly."

"I'm … waiting."

"For what?"

"Family."

"Ah. You don't have one. I made you."

"Maybe … I could –"

"You were built to destroy. You can never belong."

Jim blinked fast to keep the tears back. He sniffed, and pulled the blankets more tightly around him.

+=+

"Okay, talk! I know you had something to do with this, now where's Lilo? Talk! I know you can."

"Claire?" said Mary. "You okay?"

Jim looked over. Claire's jaw was clenched, and her hands were tight on the blanket, and her eyes were huge and fixed on the screen, and she was shaking.

"Ah … maybe the little sib getting snatched by otherworldly forces wasn't the best movie choice," Enrique said. He reached out like he was about to go to Claire, then pulled back his hand and hunkered down where he was.

"LILO! She's a little girl this big, she has black hair and brown eyes, and she hangs around with that THING!"

"I'm. Fine," Claire insisted.

"You're sure?"

"We can just fast forward."

"I said I'm fine!"

"Okay …"

Mary and Darci each scooted their blanket and cushion piles closer to Claire's, bracketing her on either side. Jim tactfully retreated to the Nuñezes kitchen to microwave a few more bags of popcorn. Enrique went with him. They could still hear the TV.

"What? After all you put me through, you expect me to help you just like that? Just like that?!"

"Ih."

"Fine."

"Fine? You're doing what he says?"

"Ah, he is very persuasive."

"Is it normal to feel bad for her?" Enrique asked.

"I think so? It's an awkward situation for both of you." Jim selected the white cheddar flavour. "But it's not like there's an alternative. You're not a polymorph. And really, the only reason she's upset is because she found out."

The Nuñezes had the same microwave as the Lakes. Jim didn't find the popcorn setting especially useful for this brand of popcorn – it tended to burn a third of the kernels– so he used the timer instead.

"I never apologized to you for that, did I?" Jim asked.

"It wasn't all your fault."

"Still, I'm sorry for my part in getting you caught."

The Changelings got back to the living room in time to see the unfortunate tourist lose his ice cream for the third time.

+=+

"Does Stitch have to go in the ship?"

"Yes."

"Can Stitch say goodbye?"

"… Yes."

Like he always did during this scene, Jim cried. He let himself do it this time.

+=+

"Wait, how is Little Mermaid a cautionary tale?" asked Enrique during the credits. The camera panned over a photo of Stitch reading to a flock of ducklings. "For getting attached, I mean. I thought the moral of that one was to control yer temper and be careful who you made deals with?"

"Sure, the Disney version," said Jim. "They adapted it to make a more dramatic, less depressing story. And give the characters names. In the older version, the sea witch is actually a neutral character. The terms of the mermaid's transformation are that she's traded her tongue for legs, but walking on land hurts, and she'll become fully human if the prince marries her, but if he marries anybody else, she'll die."

"That doesn't sound neutral."

"Wait for it. The prince gets engaged to a human princess, so the mermaid's older sisters trade their hair to the sea witch for a magic knife and a loophole; if the little mermaid kills the prince before the wedding, she can turn back into a mermaid and survive."

"Kay, I see it now."

"Except she doesn't go through with the kill, so she dies, and because she wasn't really human, she doesn't have a proper soul, so her spirit's not allowed to go to Heaven."

"… Whoa."

"I know, right?"

"I mean," Mary commented, "not murdering somebody is kind of a low bar for moral decency. It's not as if the prince owed her anything just because she was attracted to him."

"No, no, whether the prince deserved to die or not is irrelevant," said Jim. "The point is that the mermaid had a chance to, objectively, trade one life for another, and because she was attached to the particular person she'd have to kill, she didn't prioritize her own survival, and therefore suffered."

"Wouldn't the guilt of murder have caused suffering anyway?" Toby pointed out.

"Not if she wasn't attached," Jim insisted. How were they not getting this? "If she could've just cut the throat of any random human, she'd've been fine. The moral of the story is that caring about people causes pain. That's what makes it depressing."

"Do you like any fairy tales?" asked Darci.

"Sure. Just not most of Anderson's work."

"What should we watch next?" said Claire hospitably. "If we're on a 'sister movies' theme, I've got Frozen."

"Isn't that one also based on an Anderson fairy tale?" said Mary.

"Not really," said Jim. "The Snow Queen was more 'inspiration' than 'source material'. Elsa never kidnaps anyone, and they left out the broken enchanted mirror. Plus it's fun to see all the different ways humans think trolls are like."

"We also have the Trolls movie," said Claire. "I haven't watched it yet. My dad got it for Mom's birthday because she used to collect the dolls."

"I haven't seen that one yet, either," Darci commented.

"Should we?" said Mary. "Any other votes?"

"I'm game for whatever," said Toby. "This one's a musical, right? Those are always fun."

Jim squirmed.

He hadn't watched this movie despite his curiosity, after an online clip of the opening had explained the premise. Getting eaten alive was his greatest fear. Did he want to watch a movie about trolls narrowly avoiding being eaten? Did he want to explain why he didn't want to watch it?

While he debated, the movie got put in.

"Once upon a time, in a happy forest, in the happiest tree, lived the happiest creatures the world has ever known: the trolls. They loved nothing more than to sing, and dance, and hug, and dance and hug and sing and dance and sing and hug –"

Enrique started laughing.

Oh, shit, Jim hadn't warned him.

"Uh, Enrique –"

"Ssh! This is ridiculous. I mean, the huggy bit's kind of like you, but the rest of it – ha!"

"But then one day, the trolls were discovered by – a Bergen!"

"The trolls are gonna –"

"Ji-im! Spoilers!" Toby hissed.

"They were the most miserable creatures in all the land."

Jim grabbed Enrique and covered his eyes. The smaller Changeling yelped and squirmed. Jim switched forms so his fingers wouldn't bleed from the clawing.

Enrique got his eyes uncovered just in time to see the Bergen flick a troll into its mouth.

The onscreen troll's exclamation of "Oh my god!" was drowned out by Enrique's much more lurid cursing.

"What the –?" The girls and Toby all turned to stare. Claire pointed at Enrique accusingly. "I knew that didn't mean 'I'm sorry'!"

"The hell kinda movie is this?! Why would you watch this?!" He twisted to look at Jim, who let go of him rather than risk yanking his scruff by accident. "You knew?!"

"I saw a bit of it on the internet when it first came out. That's why I froze up when Claire suggested it."

That … that was the wrong thing to say. Enrique rounded on Claire. A techno-rock cover of In The Hall Of The Mountain King boomed from the movie soundtrack.

"Why in FUCK'S NAME would you think we'd WANT to watch trolls get EATEN? Is this some kind of threat?"

"How the fuck would it be a threat?" Claire shot back, stealing some cushions from Mary to prop herself up taller without getting out of her blanket cocoon.

"Most Changelings –" Jim started to say.

"DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES I'VE ALMOST BEEN EATEN?" Enrique roared. "I DON'T! CAUSE IT'S A LOT!"

"We've all had close calls," Jim finished. "Nyarlagroths, Hellheetis, goblins if you catch them in the wrong mood, Gruesomes if you're already hurt, Stalklings, and it's a … popular threat from Gumm-Gumms."

"You forgot the sloorbeasts," said Enrique bitterly.

"Nobody's gotten lichen patches that bad." At least, they hadn't when Jim got out. "Have they?"

"Still counts."

"Uh, excuse me." Toby raised his hand. "I think I speak for us all when I say, what?"

"The Darklands are a hostile environment with predators and scavengers," explained Jim. "That's the other reason we slept in groups."

"Bigger targets, but we could have lookouts."

"Okay, that's its own kind of horrifying, but I was more reacting to the cannibalism?"

"Changelings don't count as real trolls," Enrique said sarcastically. "We're Impure."

He left out the part where they'd eaten their own dead. Jim didn't add it.

(It wasn't like they'd hunted each other for food. Sometimes a Changeling just died, somehow, in a way that didn't get them eaten by something else, and … well, food was scarce in the Darklands. They couldn't afford to be picky.

It also paid to keep watch over the sentry posts. Gunmar occasionally used the Decimaar Blade to post a sentry and then forgot to order them to rest and eat. Once they died, the average adult Gumm-Gumm was a meal for twenty Changelings, easily, if they could get to the body before the Gruesomes did.)

"Okay, we're switching to Frozen." Mary made the executive decision. "Wait," she said, while exchanging the disks. "If Changelings aren't trolls, how does Jim's adoption work?"

Because of course this was the perfect moment to tell Enrique about that, right in the middle of a squabble with his adopted sister.

"For one thing, most of Trollmarket still thinks I'm human." Jim switched back to human shape to illustrate the point.

"You got adopted?"

"AAARRRGGHH and Blinky thought I should have legal standing in Trollmarket outside of my job."

Enrique stared at him. Green diamond-shaped ears were pinned back. Buggy, slit-pupil eyes were wide and hurt.

"You get everything," he grumbled. "Two nicknames, and the goblins liked you, and you could always find food, and here you're the boss's favourite even when you're a traitor, and your human family still likes you, and now you get a troll family too? S'not fair."

"Hey, the goblins liked you, too." Jim was fully aware that wasn't much comfort compared to all the rest of it. "They gave you your nickname, remember?"

"They gave you one, too."

"Yeah, but you got yours first."

They probably weren't supposed to hear Darci when she muttered, "I feel like we're missing a lot of context."

"Shit," Claire muttered back. "Not Enrique told me a bit of the name part. They don't remember their names from before they were Changelings, and they don't get real names until they have Familiars, so they use nicknames instead. From each other or from goblins, he said."

"They don't get names?" Darci's voice went squeaky at the end of that.

"We're trying to come up with something other than 'Enrique' for him."

"You're trying," Enrique corrected. Darci squeaked again.

"Can we maybe circle back to the cannibalism thing?" said Toby. "That feels like the kind of trauma that should get unpacked at some point."

"I would rather leave it packed," said Jim.

"The way you blurted it out like that feels like you need to talk about it."

"Not all psychology is Freudian, Tobes."

"Do your parents still have baby name books from when they were picking Enrique's name?" Mary asked Claire. "Real Enrique, I mean."

"They didn't use one. He was named after our abuelo."

"Okay, so what about your other grandfather? What was his name?"

"Jose María." Defensively, "It's gender neutral in Spanish."

On the television screen, the movie menu finished another loop and started again.

"I tried spelling my name like it sounds, en are ee kay, but Claire said it spelled 'Nrek'. You get why I couldn't use that."

Jim laughed.

"What's funny?" asked Toby. "Is that an insult or something?"

"No, it's goblin, in English it means 'bottle'," Jim translated. "Or possibly 'container of food'." The only bottles he's seen them use held formula for the Familiars, and the word hadn't come up on the surface, so the distinction was unclear. "It's either a silly name or a really morbid one."

"Aaand we're back to the cannibalism."

"No we are not!"

"Na na na heyana, Hahiyaha naha …"

Either somebody had decided to start the movie, or the DVD had that feature where it automatically began playing if nothing was selected after a few loops of the menu.

The conversation went in circles a couple more times, then faded out.

+=+

"And who's the funky-looking donkey over there?"

"That's Sven."

"Uh-huh; and who's the reindeer?"

"… Sven."

"Oh, they're – ? Oh! Okay! Makes things easier for me."

"~Riot~," said Enrique.

"Huh?"

"My nickname. Before. It meant 'riot'."

What are you doing? Jim wanted to demand. Was Enrique just – just giving up on a real name?

"You can call me that for now. Till we work out a for-real one. Better than 'Not Enrique'."

Jim stuffed some burnt popcorn kernels into his mouth to keep from protesting. He couldn't undermine Enrique's – Riot's – chosen name, right in front of a bunch of humans, when he'd been arguing with them about how rude that was for weeks now.

"Oh. Okay." Claire half-smiled. "Riot."

Jim shut his eyes to hide the flaring glow.

+=+

Previous Chapter (Angor Rot gets treated much better, and more sensibly, than in canon, and is correspondingly less vengeful)

Table of Contents 

Next Chapter (Featuring either Otto or Gatto)

A quick thank you to Taycin on AO3 for providing some name-gender context when this chapter first went up.

[yaboylevi]

Does Eren's question mean that he has a cruch on Mikasa?

Mmm, I’ll try to explain how I read the scene.

Short answer: No, I do not believe Eren has a crush on Mikasa and the scene, albeit presented in a romantic light from Mikasa’s pov, it was not on Eren’s part. Same as usual, I’d argue.

I will expand on this under the cut, but I just want to reiterate that this is just my interpretation, as one of the anons said, and I am aware everyone is free to have their own, even if they might puzzle me. You are free to disagree, but please don’t send me hate messages.

Upon reading the chapter the first time, I didn’t feel romantic vibes. It was actually quite tragic and disappointing for me to see one of my favorite characters (Mikasa) completely misunderstand my favorite character (Eren), in spite of how close they are supposed to be. I was so depressed and disturbed by the whole chapter, that even if I read it at 5 AM and I could’ve slept another 2 hours before having to actually wake up, I just laid in bed restlessly, absolutely depressed. I even tweeted about it lol.

Anyway, I was pretty busy that week, and only later I found out most people interpreted the scene as Eren being in love with Mikasa. It was a shock for me. It was literally the opposite of what I personally understood.

- Eren’s headspace

Let’s first talk about Eren and where his mind is in this chapter.

I felt discomfort and anxiety throughout the whole chapter. I am a pretty empathetic person, so I realized why I was feeling like that only later, after rationalizing chapter 123: Eren’s memories (which we know are horrible and gruesome and depressing) were being triggered the whole time he was in Marley and it was disturbing to watch.

He looks distressed and uncomfortable. His gaze is often unfocused (or, well, not focused on the present) and he is constantly spacing out - Armin notices but doesn’t seem to care or understand why. Honestly, it is cringe-worthy seeing Eren’s friends’ behavior. They should know what memories Eren has of this place. I do not know if anyone reading right now is familiar with triggers and what they do to a mind affected by PTSD. It’s enough to know that you feel like suffocating because you are fundamentally battling a panic attack and you ideally would want to get away from the source that is triggering you. So, imagine being in a situation you can’t escape from and everything is triggering your worst nightmares. Literally.

Even here, I’m ashamed no one in canon (and almost even in the fandom?) realizes or bothers to be understanding and careful, even when Eren makes a disturbing comment about it. Mikasa admits to it when it's all too late.

The ice-cream scene, just like the one I’m supposed to analyze in this post, is rose-tinted through Mikasa’s glasses, until we are faced with reality and are asked to reflect on Eren’s emotional state, again and again.

Reality is not a happy trip in a foreign country. Reality is a crowd of grown men wanting to hang a child because he’s different. Reality is people wanting to kill them all. Reality is Eren being triggered by ice-cream. Imagine being unable to look at a certain food because it reminds you of people being abused and brutally killed, something that you have actual memories of.

It’s just really frustrating seeing Mikasa looking at Eren, with this dumbfounded look on her face, every time Eren’s eyes seem to scream “help”.

The strain he is put under for the whole time culminates in him crying while looking at the war victims’ homes. Here at this moment, Mikasa enters the scene.

- The “eremika” scene

At this point, Eren’s reminiscing about an awful part of his past, and has a pretty clear idea of what will happen in Marley in a close future. We can be certain of this because he voices both of these topics out loud.

Eren is visibly distressed. Honestly, I’m pretty sure his voice in this scene will be quite telling of his emotional state in the anime. The direction his thoughts go, when expressed out loud, and the expression on his face are self-explanatory. Or should be, at least.

It doesn’t matter that Mikasa hasn’t seen him cry, she saw Eren wipe his face and noticed that there is, again, something wrong, but she doesn’t even ask him if he’s alright. She either doesn’t comprehend the depth of Eren’s pain, yet again, or she isn’t brave enough to ask. I believe it’s the former.

The whole chapter revolves around Mikasa’s inability to see Eren’s true feelings. Chapter 123 opens with this concept. And it is also quite clear that everything is retold from her point of view, so we shouldn’t complacently accept a surface reading of it; we are instead invited to have a deeper look into the events, both by Mikasa’s initial lines as well as the not at all subtle visual storytelling. So yeah, she has a perspective on Eren that is wrong. I think we should keep this in mind.

That’s why the moment she thinks ice-cream can make Eren happy, she is wrong. The moment she thinks Eren’s question has romantic implications, she is wrong. The moment she wonders if a different answer could’ve prevented Eren from choosing this path, she is also wrong...

Let’s go back to the scene.

Eren opens up on his own, even if Mikasa didn’t ask. He’s always been open throughout the time-skip (and even before), but I believe at this moment he has reached the breaking point since landing in Marley. He is at the most vulnerable. Like a dam finally breaking, his walls, that he had tried to keep up until that moment, fall and his feelings/thoughts spill out, after being mostly silent all day.

His short monologue is a direct continuation, or out loud repetition, of what he had been thinking about only moments before and that had caused him to cry. I believe the future he has decided upon also plays a part in it, but he doesn’t voice it, just offhandedly acknowledge its existence with that “Not yet.” comment.

Seeing a family living in poor conditions because of a war they didn’t even have any say in, has triggered Eren’s memories of the past. His and Mikasa’s and Armin’s past. They only had each other, as family, because the adults weren’t there anymore, unjustly killed, like many others. They had experienced first hand what it meant to lose your loved ones, to live a life without enough food, enough rest, enough protection. Without freedom.

Mikasa doesn’t say anything to this. She doesn’t know how to reply, and, thanks to the chapters dedicated to the time-skip, we know this has been going on for years. It’s honestly…disappointing.

And even before the time-skip, we know that she sometimes projected her insecurities and wishes on Eren, misinterpreting him really badly, to the point of making situations romantic when it really weren't.

The scene in chapter 123 is no different, especially because, as I said, it is explicitly a chapter told from Mikasa’s point of view where she also explicitly says she hasn’t been seeing Eren correctly.

There have been a lot of parallels with past chapters in this recent arc, and even 123 wasn’t lacking in this department: if the ice-cream scene parallels the ocean scene, with everyone having fun, while Eren is in emotional pain and discomfort; This other scene parallels chapter 50. At the ocean, Eren’s words gave pause to everyone, but in chapter 123 nobody, quite frankly, gives a damn about Eren to the point that they forget about him. Similarly, in chapter 50 Mikasa had managed to express her feelings for Eren’s existence (gratitude, acceptance and unconditional love - not necessarily romantic), and managed to surprisingly help him because she understood his needs on a basic level. In chapter 123, she doesn’t understand Eren’s pain and so she doesn’t say the right thing (that, btw, wouldn’t have changed Eren’s mind about his future actions, imo).

Just like in chapter 50, Eren is in an emotionally fragile moment, and what he needs, unconsciously, is the reassurance that he is loved, that someone cares about him for who he is, even if he feels undeserving of it.

I believe he is feeling despair on both occasions.

Of course, we can only guess about what made Eren cry in this new chapter, because we don’t have access to his mind this time around, but I’m sure it’s a mixture of things: knowing how ineluctable their future seems, and whatever it entails is upsetting for Eren as well; empathy for someone else’s painful condition because he’s been there before; probably also sadness, because he knows what he himself will cause to happen (as implied by that “not yet”) as well as that his time with his found family and friends is about to end; the bonds he will have to break, something that breaks Eren in return.

So it’s honestly not that surprising that he searches for comfort. I guess he’s been struggling with what he has seen in his future because he would have never thought himself able to kill innocents. His mindset used to be about protecting himself and his loved ones and innocents from being robbed of their freedom, yet he knows he is about to become someone who takes away that freedom, along with lives. For him, life equals freedom, because when you are born you are intrinsically free. So his future actions must have been weighing heavy on his mind and heart.

I find it fitting and incredibly sad that he asks Mikasa what she thinks of him now, after talking about families being robbed of their freedom and how much pain this causes.

Mikasa has always been family to him. So has been Armin, but Mikasa is somehow different. She has lived with him, he has directly invited her to be part of his family, he admitted he childishly rejected her familial care because he was jealous but after this admittance, he embraces it. Opening Grisha’s book together was an important moment exactly because they are family, and that was their home.

They are constantly compared to family. It doesn’t matter, in my opinion, that Mikasa holds also romantic feelings for Eren. She primarily sees him as family, too.

They are what is left of the Yeager household, and the story has highlighted this.

So I believe that in his pain in 123, Eren seeks something, a word of comfort, an assurance that he is not just a killer or a failure, and that he is Eren, someone who has been trying to do the right thing since forever, someone who has done the right thing often, someone who is deserving of the care of the girl he once saved (even if the question clearly implies he doesn’t think he deserves it). In chapter 50, Eren invokes his mother. I am sure he is searching for the same kind of warmth here too. The warmth of his family.

The scene, to me, felt a lot more about Eren’s feelings of self-hatred and Mikasa missing the point.

The entirety of the chapter is meant to show how Mikasa didn’t understand Eren: both by ignoring some signs and misunderstanding others.

He is suffering, but she thinks he is asking her about her romantic feelings.

She blushes, yet Eren has just finished crying and becomes teary-eyed once again.

He is distressed and looks haunted, during both of the rose-colored scenes with Mikasa. 

His questions are almost needy. Yet, she fails to understand what Eren was in need of: comfort, understanding, an “I care about you because it’s YOU”. Something that she implied later in chapter 112, when it was indeed too late.

- The two choices were possibly both wrong

Eren presented two options and I think they were both partially correct but at the same time incomplete, because Mikasa’s care for Eren is comprised of many facets. We don’t know what he thinks of Mikasa's answer because we don’t see his reaction to it. However, he seems at peace, later on, falling asleep next to the closest members of his found family, meaning he is content with and values the way their relationship is. 

Eren surely doesn’t regret saving Mikasa. He also surely considers Mikasa his family, as I stated before. But there are certain kinds of expectations in being family and in being someone’s savior. You will always care about someone who literally saved your life. You will always care about family because they are…well, family. No matter how messed up they may be, they will always have a small place in your heart, whether it’s bad or good. 

“You’re my savior” might imply a dependance or sticking to someone just to repay them. “Family” might have the meaning of “it’s my duty to look after you because it’s simply what family members do”. Both also imply that Mikasa will be hurt even worse by what Eren is about to do.

These weren’t the answers Eren needed, perhaps.

As I said already, I believe that what he searched for, was a different answer. If Mikasa had told him she cared about him as a person, as Eren himself, Eren would have felt reassured - because he would be loved for the neutral quality of simply existing. That’s also what made him feel better, when hearing Carla’s words at the end of Uprising. That he was loved, cared for, and worthy of existing just for being born. No expectations, no burdens. An “I stick with you because I love you (romantically)” could have held the same meaning, potentially, because love is love, but in no way this means Eren wanted a romantic answer or that he feels the same way. Besides, that’s not the reason Mikasa cares about Eren, that’s just a side effect, imo.

And I don’t believe Mikasa, at the question “what am I to you?”, believes she should have responded with “you are the love of my life”. That would’ve been so out of place, because Eren is not the love of her life. He is more. I think family well describes it, but her half-assed, panicked answer wasn’t truthful or as powerful as her words were in chapter 50, so they had no real effect and felt unsatisfying for everyone, honestly.

I always stated that if Eren fell in love with someone else, their love for one another wouldn’t change, because the strongest feeling Mikasa feels for Eren isn’t romantic love, and romantic love is something that has never been in Eren’s mind when it came to Mikasa, as shown countless times (or rather, the lack of romantic undertones on his part re:Mikasa should be proof enough, imo).

Anyway, I could be wrong, but I can’t see it any other way. I think it’s a very complex scene to analyze and there is way more than meets the eye, especially because we aren’t granted access to Eren.

I am a great fan of Mikasa, but this scene and chapter made me reconsider her a lot, unfortunately. I strongly believed she had resolved and understood her complicated feelings for Eren in chapter 50, so she had reached a less biased view, but there has been a regression. The same happened with Armin, his character arc was about him growing confident in himself, and learning to always pay close attention to his own realistic reading of the world, but he has just become unsure of what he has to do and lost his cynical edge.

And finally, I want to quickly address another two points so I don't have to talk about this scene anymore until new information is revealed:

The “perfect timing” comment: I interpreted it as Eren knowing what was about to happen and being depressed but used to his memories being correct. Proof, for me, is Mikasa being confused at Eren’s comment, just like she was at the “not yet” one. Besides, they had already been interrupted by the old man and he didn’t seem to mind, so this “perfect timing” has nothing to do with their friends “ruining” the moment. He willingly invites them to join in and finally, he is content and relaxed, when he is with all of them. He loves them all. 

Mikasa’s comment about “if only I had said something different”: I think she may have realized that it wasn’t a romantic situation - because clearly, her romantic inclinations have clouded her judgment. That she had failed to understand Eren’s feelings and his reason for bringing up Mikasa’s care for him. I don’t sense a “I should’ve told him I loved him”. Because honestly, familial love IS love. Platonic love IS love, too. If Eren wasn’t “saved” by the purest form of love, I don’t see how any other type of love could’ve changed anything. That panel, revisited by the current Mikasa, focuses even more on Eren’s tears. Eren’s deep sadness clashes with Mikasa’s initial frivolous reading of the moment. So stating that she believes she should’ve confessed, means going against what the chapter has stated to be…not right.

Thank you for reading all of this, if anyone has managed to! :)

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

Valentine

I know, it’s just a holiday to capitalize on love, but as someone who has never received a Valentine that wasn’t out of obligation, I have dreams, dang it!

Was gonna post it ON Valentine’s Day, but I realized I was off work on Monday (Off work = Offline) so I didn’t account for the missing day when working on my stories for Cute Girls and Hot Androids Week. Anyway, this is a good warm-up for what is to come. I guarantee my next ones won’t be so PG, so be warned! 

He had never felt so terrified in his life. He has been in more life and death situations in his short life than most veteran officers. He fell off a roof to his death and helped free thousands of androids from the most powerful company in the world. None of that left him feeling as he did now. He was literally made for those kinds of situations, however, so why would he feel nervous as he does now? This was something so far beyond his comfort zone he was wondering why he was doing it. Then, you walk by, bright smile, eyes sparkling when they meet his, hips swaying in a way that demanded his rapt attention. He is reminded of why. He loves you, and this was all about showing just how much.

Valentine's day.

It was an odd holiday, with many variations. He studied up on it, coming across traditions and tips. He got distracted a couple of times, reading about a few homicides that happened on the same day. In the end, according to his research, there was a good chance you would not appreciate it if he didn't make a big deal of the holiday, and it could deal a blow to yours and his relationship. With the relationship being so young, not even a year yet, he cannot afford that kind of risk. He still thinks back to Christmas and cringes, hearing you shouting at him for scanning one of his gifts before he could open it. He could only imagine how much worse it would have been had he gotten to the others.

Still, that was then, and he had learned his lesson. He has studied up on the holiday and has started to construct a plan. It will be the most romantic night of your life.

..................

He was staring at the roses in the display case. Tradition dictates that a dozen red roses were the most romantic. His eyes locked on them and his body froze. He sees the trellis and the woman standing before it, tending to the blood-colored blooms. He hears her voice, condemning his every action. Disappointment.

"Sir?" A voice chimes from behind him. How long has he been standing here? "Is there something I can help you with?" The small woman smiled up at him. Her appearance reminds him of a garden gnome he had seen while walking Sumo. It only seems fitting that she should work here.

"Y-" he clears his throat, "-Yes. I'm looking to get a bouquet."

"Alright, well, let's start simple. Who's it for?"

"My girlfriend." It still felt like a foreign word from his tongue, but it made him smile nonetheless.

"I see. For Valentines?" She had an insinuating smugness about her face, "Well, roses are a fine choice,-" she saw him eye them, as if they would attack at any moment, "-however, sometimes sticking to traditions can be considered boring. Not all women like that. Instead, try focusing on what she would like."

What you like? Why didn't he think of that? Did you even like roses? Looking over memories, he noticed you commenting more on the different colors and their fragrance rather than the roses physical appearance. You liked them, but no more than any other flowers. You would choose by appearance, rather than by name. He started broadening his sights, looking at the many different blossoms the little shop housed. You like to show him things that spark your interests, so he tries thinking like you. What would you want to show him? He finds what he's looking for on a shelf. Would this be okay? 

"She has unique tastes, " the store clerk beamed, taking his choice up to the front.

"I suppose this is as far from tradition as you could possibly get, " he felt anxious about his choice. He knows you'd love it, but what does it have to do with Valentine's day?

"Then make your own tradition. If it's true love, then whatever you do will be perfect in her eyes." He smiled. This garden gnome was clearly wise beyond her years. What is the lifespan of a gnome? He was getting distracted again. 

"Thank you, Ms.-" Connor tries not to scan people off shift after Hank chastised him.

"Greta is just fine." Greta the Garden Gnome. Surely this can be no accident. "I hope your lady loves her gift."

"I'm sure she will."

............

Getting the chocolates was much easier. He knew your favorite brand and which ones to avoid. He had thought about making them himself, as tradition dictates that to be the most endearing, but his cooking skills were... Subpar. He was still adjusting to tastes and has learned he has a penchant for becoming distracted. He supposes his 'free thinking' mixed with his original program, to find out as much as possible in as little of time allowed, making it almost impossible to focus on one thing for too long.

 The little heart-shaped box only made his bizarre choice at the floral shop stand out. Maybe he shouldn't have taken the advice from a gnome to heart. It was too late now. Instead, he placed it in a small, red bag with pink tissue paper. At least this way it looked like a Valentine's present.

He walked towards your desk with his gifts in hand. When he didn't see you there, he assumed you must be running late. What he did see were several gifts stacked on top of your desk, along with a couple of bouquets and five separate boxes of chocolates. You had many... Admirers. It shouldn't bother him. He knew you were desirable to many. Yet, seeing all the blatant show of such affections, some even giving you their numbers, knowing you were already in a relationship. It rubbed him the wrong way. Still, he set his gift among the many flashier ones before heading to his own desk. 

He was shocked to find gifts addressed to him waiting for him, along with a bouquet of roses. Many of them were the same thirium-based chocolates, some of the only products made specifically for androids. He didn't particularly care for the flavor, the chocolate had a cheap, artificial taste compared to the chocolate syrup he tasted at your house.

 It was the roses that he was stuck on. He wants to remove them. Seeing them here, where he works, felt too much like they were barring down on him, waiting for him to make a mistake. He takes them and sets them on the ground, under his desk. Out of sight, out of mind. The rest of the gifts were shifted to the side.

You show up a few moments later. He was a little disappointed you did not come up to greet him, but you looked annoyed, so you might have chosen to spare him of your sour mood. You looked over your gifts, and Connor watched as you systematically dumped most of them in the trash, slamming it down before taking your seat and getting to work. That... Was not generally something people did when they received gifts. Only his gifts remained, much to his relief, though you didn't seem to pay them much mind either. A part of him was satisfied that you had ruthlessly destroyed all those people's hearts in one swift action, but he was astonished you would do something so tactless. Perhaps something happened to trigger your bad mood. He stood, hoping to help.

"Good morning, Y/n." Connor smiled down at you, standing next to your desk.

"Morning." You answered automatically, but it was brisk and clipped. You didn't even look up from your computer. Had he done something wrong?

"Are you alright?"

"Fine." He continued to stare expectantly.

"I said, I'm fine!" You snapped. 

He knows he should back off when you're like this, that he could only make it worse, but instead, he got down on his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his.

"Please, tell me what's wrong. I want to help." For a moment, he believes he had made the wrong choice, as you looked like you wanted to throttle him. Your gaze was intense, and he could see the red of his LED reflecting from your eyes. It takes a minute, but you lean forward and whisper into his ear.

"Why are you hiding the roses under your desk?" Your words were venomous, making a panic rise in him. You had seen him hide them, and he realizes that could be misinterpreted as concealing the gift so you wouldn't see it.

"I... I become distressed when I see red roses. I didn't want to look at them." He looked away, feeling foolish. What kind of person is afraid of roses? You knew of the zen garden, so you of all people would understand. "They remind me of her." You were quiet for a moment, your anger quickly melting.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" You buried your face in your hands, "God, I'm so stupid." You muttered to yourself.

"No, you're not." 

"I am! I thought, 'since you like clichés so much, you'll probably prefer the traditional gift for Valentine's Day.'" Wait a minute.

"The roses were from you?"

"Yes! Didn't you read the card?" He stood up, going to his desk and reaching under, grabbing the thin, glass vase the roses resided in. Riffling around them, he finds a card with a cartoon picture of a dog holding a heart on it. He flipped it over.

"My heart blooms only for you. Happy Valentine's Day, my Love. -❤Y/n" he could see the impression of your lips pressed into the card, making his thirium pump vibrate within his chest. Hiding your roses while he had only pushed the other gifts to the side seemed so much worse than hiding roses from a secret admirer. 

He heard a sniffling sound, seeing that you had turned back to your terminal, but your shoulders were trembling. You were trying so hard not to cry at work. Connor went back to you, pulling you from your seat and practically dragging you to the first available space, which happened to be the old records room. Before you could say anything, his lips crashed into yours, holding you tightly against him. He held your face, turning it slightly to get that perfect angle. Your hand went to the back of his neck, combing through his hair as your other one held his shirt in a death clasp, likely wrinkling the material, but he couldn't care less. He kept you locked to his ravenous lips until you were on the verge of passing out, pulling back as you gasped for air.  

"I'm sorry. I didn't know, " he murmured, wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

"I'm sorry, too. I saw you hide them and I made assumptions."

"You had no way of knowing. To be honest, I hadn't thought it was an issue until I was looking at them at the flower shop."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No, another time, maybe. Right now, I want to get through the workday, then take my girlfriend out on a romantic date. She might even gift me with a kiss at the end of the evening." He winked, making you smile. 

"You just might get a little more than that, if you like. Valentine's Day has many traditions for couples." At that, you dipped the hem of your jeans slightly, showing a bit of lace that had Connor captivated. His hands itched to reveal more, but you readjusted your pants, snapping out of your hold over him.

"We should probably get to work, " you spoke. He pulled you close for another kiss before grabbing the door, letting you lead the way. Instead of heading to your desk, you went to his, grabbing the roses. 

"It's fine, you can leave them-" but you chucked them into the trash in the break room.

"I'm not gonna leave them if they bother you. Besides, I have another gift for you." You went to your desk and grabbed your bag, rifling around, "I was gonna wait until after work, but here." You handed him a package, wrapping paper covered in blue and red hearts with a gold bow over the top. He opened it carefully, and inside was a hand-made knitted hat. It was grey, with a blue heart next to the cute face of a St. Bernard. On top was a pom pom with grey, white, and blue strings. He smiled.

"I hope it fits. I used your other beanie as a reference." He slipped it on, the inside lined with fleece, making the hat much warmer and softer. 

"It's perfect. Did you make it yourself?"

"Mostly. Simon helped me. I wanted to make you something, but as you can't eat solids, I thought I'd ask him for his opinion. I've never knitted anything before, but he's a pretty good teacher."

"I love it, thank you." You smiled, looking bashful before remembering the bag on your desk. You picked it up.

"Careful, " Connor warned before you could shove your hand inside. Instead, you picked the tissue out and looked inside. 

"Oh my God!" You carefully took out the small teddy bear planter. Growing inside was a Bear Paw succulent, all bundled together with their pink little claws. "It's so adorable! Thank you!"

"I thought you might prefer this."

"I love it! What made you buy a cactus though?" Some might find that insulting for Valentines.

"A garden gnome." You gave him a look.

"A... Garden gnome?"

"Yes."

"Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that brain of yours."

......

I like thinking that Connor is a bit oblivious with anything that doesn’t have to do with detective work. I also seen a few posts where Connor has an aversion to roses, particularly red ones, so I thought I’d play off that idea. Was gonna have them go on their date and all that jazz, but I don’t know when to shut up, so the rest is up to your imagination! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

[sunriseskog]

That Don’t Sound Like You- Auston Matthews

Request: “Can you write an AM imagine based on that don’t sound like you by lee brice?”

Warnings: angst & cursing

A/N: i vote that we all just ignore the fact that the last time I posted was like 6 months ago uwu i also vote that we ignore the fact that this sucks

There is nothing about dialing a phone that makes it inherently difficult— it’s arguably one of the simplest, most mundane tasks one can complete. But sometimes those buttons become a little harder to push, each dial seems to require a little bit more force, a little bit more resolution behind the action so your fingers can be sure your brain knows what it’s getting itself into. This was one of those phone calls.

It had been almost 10 months since the last time you and Auston had spoken, and neither of you had anticipated ever speaking to one another again, at least not in this lifetime. But it was his birthday. It was also your birthday. Which was precisely what prompted the predicament you currently found yourself in. For as long as you could remember, you and Auston had celebrated your shared birthdays with each other. Through bedtimes and curfews, timezones and years, the two of you had never failed to be the first to wish each other a happy birthday, exactly as the clock struck 12. This time last year all you had had to do was roll over in your bed to be able to partake in the tradition. Today? Things couldn’t be more different.

There had been years when you had begged your mother to phone Ema, just to find out if Auston was home before you rode your bike all the way over to his house. There had been years when you had snuck your phone upstairs well-past your bedtime, just to fall asleep 10 minutes after he picked up the phone. Now every time you picked up your phone you wished you had never memorized his number in the first place. The irony of the situation was anything but lost on you.

For all you knew, Auston could be celebrating the occasion with someone far more qualified to comfort him tonight than you were. He could be high out of his mind or plastered beyond belief. He could be sleeping soundly or watching movies with his family. Or… or he could be thinking about you just as much as you were thinking about him. You didn’t think you wanted to know the answer.

Except, it didn’t seem you were given a choice. Your thumb felt have as you moved to connect the call, but before you had the chance, an all too familiar contact picture consumed your screen, disappearing before your brain had a chance to register that the vibration had even begun. Well, that answered one question at least. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, he was thinking about you too.

You still had about 45 seconds until midnight, so there was the possibility that he merely hung up because he had called too early. But there was also a much more realistic possibility that he was overthinking this almost as much as you were, which meant the both of you were going to spend the next 45 seconds in absolute agony over who would have the balls to call first. You could always cut him a break, despite the fact that he had hung up almost immediately, he did still technically call first. You decided that being early just this one year wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, and pushed the green button towards the bottom of your screen. You couldn’t help but think that this might be the last time the two of you shared this moment together.

Any semblance of confidence that you had possessed before placing the call was immediately eradicated the moment you heard the line connect. Nothing could have prepared you for the overwhelming experience of hearing his voice again.

“(Y/N)?” He questioned, his voice rough and lower than you remembered. The weight behind his question, the hopeful but disbelieving lilt in his tone robbed you of any hope you had of forming a coherent response, your breath having been punched out of your chest as soon as you had heard his voice again. You heard his breath hitch through the receiver as soon as you moved to speak.

“…hey” you breathed lightly, barely loud enough for even your own ears to register.

A few deafeningly silent moments passed before you realized that he wasn’t going to respond any time soon.

“Umm,” you hesitated, unsure of where to lead the conversation, but already feeling desperate not to let it end. “Happy birthday, Auston,” you spoke quietly, moisture gathering around the edge of your mouth as you spoke, a thick sob settling quietly in the back of your throat. Somehow, you managed to keep your voice from wavering, despite the history and emotion weighing heavily on every word that you spoke. You could hear the air rush past the receiver as he inhaled quickly, and the hair on the back of your neck bristled in preparation of hearing his voice again.

“What did he do,” he demanded sharply, the aggression in his tone catching you entirely off guard.

“Excuse me?” You demanded with an offended quirk of your brow, not quite sure whether to take what he was saying personally or not.

“N-no,” he stuttered quickly, “That’s… that’s not what I meant. I just,” he huffed out an ironic laugh, and you could almost see the way you knew he was rolling his eyes at himself, his left hand perched on the brow of his nose in frustration. “This is not how I intended for this to go,” he lamented lamely, “I just meant that like…” he hesitated. Wherever this conversation was going, you could already tell it was going to be a minefield of trying not to offend one another while desperately avoiding anything that would remind the two of you of what had occurred all those months ago. You heard him sigh deeply as he prepared to explain himself.

“I just meant…” he trailed off again, and you were quickly becoming increasingly frustrated with how long it was taking this boy to spit out a single sentence.

“Spit it out, Auston,” you sighed, “You’re not going to offend me, and it’s not like we have a relationship to jeopardize in the first place,” you spoke reservedly, trying to keep your voice as non-abrasive as possible.

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” He exclaimed seeming to be ignited by what you had said. “That’s- That not how you fucking talk, (Y/N)! Whatever the fuck you’re saying that’s- that’s not you,” he rambled. “You’re way too fucking quiet and you’re not cussing or screaming at me or going off on me for calling you on your birthday and you’re not talking about what happened and you’re talking to me. today. Right now. You are talking to me. Which means he must have done something,” he finished, having run out of breath from how quickly and loudly he was speaking.

“Auston…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say. It wasn’t like he was wrong, the rebound— Luke— that you had met during a drunken tinder binge after you and Auston had split, had quickly turned into a hell of a lot more than you intended, and you had been in such a vulnerable emotional state that by the time you were cognizant enough to realize what was happening around you, it was too late to go back. Somehow what you had intended to be a one-night stand had turned into him staying the night, asking you to make breakfast, and then proceeding to continue to invite himself over until you weren’t even clear as to whether he was your boyfriend or not. After a few misinterpreted social media interactions, everyone else— including Luke— seemed to decide the two of you were dating, without anyone seeming to consider asking you.

“Why are you alone on your birthday?” He demanded, cutting off the half-formed response you had begun to stutter out in response to his previous line of questioning.

“Why are you?” You rebutted, matching his aggressive tone. As far as you were concerned, you were under no obligation to answer his questions, especially if he was going to continue acting like a complete ass when all you had wanted to do was have his voice be the first you heard on your birthday, especially if this was going to be the last time. You couldn’t help but notice that he still hadn’t said it back.

“You know why,” he stated simply, as if somehow you knew exactly what was happening inside of his brain despite the fact that it had been damn near a year since the two of you had spoken.

“Enlighten me,” you quipped sarcastically with a roll of your eyes, wishing for this conversation to end by desperate for him not to stop talking.

“I missed you.” You felt your heart drop inside of your chest. He stated those words so easily, as if it wouldn’t take every ounce of pride that you had managed to preserve over the past few months to reciprocate the statement.

“I answered your question,” he continued. “Now you answer mine.”

“Which one?” You cleared your throat, his confession still ricocheting around your mind, seeming to consume your being entirely.

“Why are you alone on your birthday?”

You took a deep breath before beginning, there was no point in lying, the only options on the table were that eventually he would find out the truth or this would be the final conversation you would have with him, and you didn’t want the last thing you said to him to have been a lie. It wasn’t worth it, you had nothing to lose.

“If I couldn’t talk to you, I didn’t want to talk to anyone,” you stated simply. The two of you knew this was as close to a confession as your pride would let you get, regardless of the circumstances.

“Wh-what about Luke?” He questioned hesitantly, the hopeful lilt from the first time he spoke returning at last.

“Especially not Luke,” you asserted, resisted the urge to groan at the mere mention of the omnipresent nuisance in your life. “That… that wasn’t what everyone thought it was, and whatever it actually was is over now… not that it matters.”

“oh…” he spoke quietly, seemingly unsure of what to say.

“…yeah,” you winced, visibly cringing at how the conversation had become so painfully awkward so quickly.

“That wasn’t my only question,” he began quickly, his voice seeming to allude to the fact that he wasn’t expecting an answer.

“I know.”

“Maybe,” he started apprehensively. “Maybe you could answer it over coffee sometime?” He inquired hopefully. You could practically feel him holding his breath. You choked on the breath you had been exhaling, your shoulders stiffening on their own accord.

“You- you don’t have to you know…” he trailed off. “You don’t have to answer the question, or even meet me for that matter. Just… just if you want to y’know.”

“Hows tomorrow sound?” You cut him off, mercifully putting an end to whatever else he was going to nervously ramble on about until you gave an answer. The breath of relief he let out sounded more like a laugh, and words couldn’t express how good it felt to be smiling with him again. There was every possibility that this was the first genuine smile you had let out since the last time the two of you had spoken.

“I couldn’t think of a better time if I tried,” he smirked, his cockiness exuding through the speaker despite the vulnerability of the previous moment.

“I’ll see you then,” you quipped, a similar confidence seeping into your tone.

As you moved to hang up, you heard him begin to speak again.

“(Y/N)?” He rushed quickly.

“Yeah?” You questioned, confused.

“Happy Birthday.”

A/N: it has been so so very long since i’ve posted so please let me know what you think!!! & thanks for sticking around through my semi-hiatus lmao

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

We’ll Carry On - Chapter Fifty Four

We’ll Carry On Tag

General Content Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Substance Abuse, Abandonment, Minor Character Death, Transphobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Dissociation, Bullying, Homophobia

November 1st, 2019

Logan was thinking. About everything that had happened last night, and earlier today. He was in his bed, staring at the ceiling, because he had no idea how to process his feelings for Jack. Surely, it had to be a stress response, he thought. But what stress response resonated that strongly with two boys who had only been dating for two months? It didn’t make any sense!

Logan resolved to keep the revelation that he loved Jack under wraps for now. Two months was much too soon to be super serious about each other. But still, whenever he thought about Jack, his stomach warmed and his heart rate slowed, rather than skipping a beat. He was completely content to be around Jack, and while it should have terrified him, he was more terrified of Jack finding out and not reciprocating than anything else he had ever been terrified of before.

September 9th, 2020

It was a stupid little game that had started it all. Logan’s senior year had just started, Roman and his buddies sat across the way by the theatre entrance, and Logan and Roman were occasionally lobbing witty comebacks at each other. Eventually, Jack had gotten tired of it, asking the rest of their friends if they were okay expanding their lunch circle. Everyone had said yes, and Roman and his new friends joined Logan’s group. Roman and Logan sat next to each other, still occasionally arguing, especially when Roman would dramatically drape himself over Logan’s shoulder.

“You definitely have freshman energy,” Tristan said with a good-natured laugh. “You’ll grow out of it, but it’ll take time. You might cringe afterward.”

Roman shrugged. “Eh, it’s just something that will be part of me, you know? I cringe at things I said when I was younger now, it’s not gonna be a new feeling.”

“Yeah, everyone looks back at their past every once in a while and cringes,” Chad piped up. “Like, high school relationships, by and large, will be something most of us will cringe at in the future.”

“I disagree,” Logan said, bristling. “Relationships may have messy feelings attached to them, but I don’t think they’re something to cringe at, because at the time you were with that person, you had genuine affections for them.”

“Aw, I’m flattered, Logan,” Jack said, smirking. “You have affections for me, how cute.”

Something sat wrong in Logan’s stomach. His brows furrowed and he frowned. “I don’t...think it’s cute?” Logan said. “It’s not like a schoolyard crush in elementary school. It’s important to me. Is it not...important to you?”

“Of course it’s important to me,” Jack said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, you just called me saying ‘I love you’ cute,” Logan said.

Jack blinked. “You said...you love me?”

Logan frowned deeper. “That’s what affections means?”

“Wait...” Jack said, holding up a hand. “You’ve said ‘I love you’ in the infatuation sense and the honeymoon stage before. Are you saying this...as part of that? Or...is it something else?”

Logan blinked several times, and his ears grew hot. “I’m...I’m not certain what you mean?”

“Do you love me back, Lo?” Jack asked.

“I...” Logan was speechless. He had entertained the idea of a life with Jack before, but it never fully hit him that he would love Jack like that, and that deeply, before today.

Jack watched him as Logan processed this, but Logan couldn’t get words to leave his mouth even after he realized this, and Jack slowly deflated, and his hurt grew. Logan felt tears coming to his own eyes, because he didn’t want Jack to be hurt, just because Logan had lost his ability to speak in full sentences. He looked at his hands, and he was having a hard time even allowing his hands to move to say what he wanted. He had never been this nonverbal before.

But Jack was leaning away, his mouth opening to no doubt say something along the lines of, “Just forget about it,” and Logan didn’t know what to do. He leaned forward, grabbing Jack’s hand desperately trying to keep him here, in the circle. Everyone was staring between the two of them, like the situation might explode at any moment.

Jack glanced at Logan, the hurt evident in his eyes. Logan could feel his tears starting to fall, “Jack...” he croaked out. “Please...I don’t...I don’t know how to say it.”

“If you don’t love me, Logan, it’s okay,” Jack said, freeing his hand. “But I’d like to know now, rather than have you string me along for months on end.”

Logan moved forward before he could think, and he had his arms wrapped around Jack in a hug, his chest heaving as much as it could with his chest binder on. “Please,” he murmured. “Please don’t leave.”

Jack slowly extricated himself from Logan’s death grip and fixed his clothes. “Lo, it’s okay. Just say it.”

Logan was sobbing at this point. “Jack, please. I don’t know how!”

Jack shook his head. “It’s easy, Lo. ‘I don’t love you that way.’”

Logan’s hands shook as he backed up to where he had been sitting before, making sure everyone could see him. With his hands still shaking, his sign language might come across a little more difficult to read, but he hoped that he could still get the point across. “I love you more than I love being called, ‘sir,’” he started. “I love you more than all the stars in the sky. I love you to the moon and back. I’ve loved you since the beginning. I’ve loved you since you almost died. I’ve loved you enough to think about a life together. And it makes me giddy enough to do that rocking thing you’ve pointed out to me. I love you more than words can say. I love you, I love you so much and I don’t know how to say it. It’s not the tacked-on thought at the end of a phone call. It’s not the honeymoon phase’s infatuation. It’s not a small thing. I love you, Jack. I just don’t know how to say it.”

Jack was staring at Logan with wide eyes, searching him for any shred of deception. Logan knew that was just what Jack did, and he didn’t feel any offense for not being believed at first, especially because Logan had such a hard time saying it and Jack had an overwhelming fear of rejection. But in an instant, Jack was moving forward, cupping Logan’s cheek as he brought Logan forward slightly for a tender kiss. It barely lasted a second, and Jack rested his forehead against Logan’s when it was over. “I’m sorry, Lo,” he breathed. “I should have remembered you sometimes have problems with words.”

Logan grabbed Jack’s hands with his own. “It’s...” he cleared his throat. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “I...I should have thought through what I was going to say more, instead of just dropping that bombshell on you.”

“I have one more bombshell for you, Sherlock,” Jack said, pulling back.

“Oh?” Logan asked.

“I said ‘back’ in my question,” Jack pointed out.

Logan made a choked noise as his thought process short-circuited.

“I know that doesn’t make the admission any easier,” Jack said with a laugh. “But you really need to improve your active listening.”

“Shut up!” Logan laughed. “My active listening is fine!”

“I don’t know...” Jack teased. “You seem to short-circuit whenever a certain cute boy talks to you.”

“Okay, first of all: you are a man. Big difference. I would go so far as to say a gentleman. Second of all: I’m queer! What do you expect from me?!” Logan exclaimed.

Everyone in the circle laughed, and just like that, all the tension previously in the circle eased. Logan and Jack wound up positioned in such a way that Logan was leaning back into Jack’s chest, both of them sitting more or less on top of each other. Logan was eating the last of his cookies, and Jack was scrolling through his phone when the bell rang for class. Everyone started to get up, say their goodbyes until after school when all of them would return to the theatre for the play auditions.

Logan was about to leave when Jack caught his hand. Logan turned and Jack kissed him softly. “Hey, I love you,” Jack murmured.

“I love you too,” Logan said, feeling his heart melt a little. “No hard feelings.”

“No hard feelings,” Jack parroted with a relieved smile. “I’ll see you in ASL?”

“Yup,” Logan confirmed.

When they walked away, Roman jogged to catch up with Logan. “My next class is this way,” he said at Logan’s look. “And for what it’s worth...I think you and Jack will be one of the few who stay together after high school. I don’t know how long it’ll last, and I don’t want to jinx anything...but I feel like you two could wind up being that stereotype of ‘high school sweethearts.’”

Logan smiled softly. “Yeah...” he murmured. “Provided he wants to stay with me, I want to stay with him.”

Roman offered Logan a grin. “Then it’s no worries!” he said. “Because Jack definitely loves you. Maybe more than to the moon and back.”

“Shut up,” Logan muttered half-heartedly.

“Nah,” Roman said. “I like flustering you more than I value my continued existence.”

“What?” Logan asked, alarmed.

“It’s a joke, Logan. Mostly. I will occasionally push boundaries for a joke, but I wouldn’t want you to kill me over one. And here’s my class. I’ll see you after school!” Roman exclaimed, dashing through the doorway.

Logan shook his head and continued on to his classes. He and Jack hung out in ASL a lot more, both of them almost holding a fluent conversation, save for a few misinterpreted signs from Jack. They continued to joke around the rest of the class, and walked to the theatre together. “I’m so glad I convinced you to become a tech sophomore year,” Jack said. “Because this is so much more fun with you around.”

“I’m glad you convinced me to join then too,” Logan said. “Because I have a lot more friends now, thanks to you.”

Jack grinned and the two made their way into the wings of the stage, Logan messing with the lights to make sure all of them were functional, and Jack heading to the sound booth so that everyone could hear when the kids came up to audition for the play. They occasionally caught glances at each other and would share smiles. Nothing about it was super special, but maybe that’s what made it stand out for Logan. They were still their normal selves, even after a confession of love.

As the kids started to audition, Logan spied Roman looking nervously at his lines. Logan walked over and leaned against the wall behind Roman, saying, “You’ll do fine, prep. No one is expected to memorize their lines in the span of two days. That’s why they give you pieces of the script.”

Roman bit his lip. “Are you sure? All the other kids are really good and—”

“So are you,” Logan said firmly. “No question about it. Most of the freshman know about your Remus performance last year at the middle school. A couple of older kids know about it too. Even if you don’t get the lead for the main show, you could get a significant part in the second cast. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Roman smiled thankfully at Logan, right before the head of the drama club called his name. “I guess that’s my cue,” he said, smile slipping away.

“Knock ‘em dead, prep, you’ll do fine,” Logan assured.

Roman nodded at him and Logan went over to the sound booth, since he didn’t need to adjust the lights for a while. Jack was leaning in a chair back there, suitably impressed. “Your baby bro has some serious talent,” he said.

“I know. He also has one of the worst cases of stage fright I’ve ever seen,” Logan said.

“Ouch,” Jack said, grimacing. “Real shame. If he decides this isn’t for him? We could lose having him as the lead his senior year.”

“No one wants that,” Logan muttered. “Dad and Ami would probably encourage him to keep going, if he starts to get too doubtful. But he has some time to think about that anyway. Right now, he just has to audition.”

“True,” Jack said. “Also, for the record, I’m really touched that you love me.”

Logan turned red around the ears again as he muttered, “I admittedly have fallen deeper than I expected to. But it’s a wonderful accident.”

Jack laughed and kissed Logan, and Logan kissed back.

“Excellent audition, Mister Picani. And if the other Mister Picani and Mister Harkness could stop snogging in the sound booth that would be great!” the drama instructor called.

Logan jumped away, completely as red as a tomato. Jack wasn’t much better. Roman was still on stage, cackling away from the mic but still audible all the same. Jack and Logan shared a look and a giggle between them. “Go help with the lights,” Jack suggested. “I’ll be here afterward.”

“I look forward to it,” Logan said with a little wink.

“Of course you do!” Jack called.

Logan turned and stuck his tongue out at Jack as he walked away.

[hetaliareaderfanfic]

Errands

Notes: Reader x APH England (Y/N) = Your Name Human AU Part 2/?

Part 1, Part 2

Being an ornithologist could be fascinating and frustrating at the same time. With Arthur wanting to prove the existence of a mythical bird, he was lucky to have inherited the gothic house where he had first encountered the bird in his grandfather’s things. He could still clearly recall how his late grandfather, who was a great ornithologist himself, showed to the young Arthur his field journals and adventure-spilled papers bound into books with random accounts on the mythical bird and other already proven ones, but Arthur just could not remember which notebook, or book, or any bounded paper contained the specific information he needed. He was so fascinated, as a child, on its wonders; dreaming that someday he would find the mythical bird himself, which inspired him to follow the footsteps of his grandfather. And having read not even half of the books in his grandfather’s underground secret library for two years did not lead him to his desired information. However, having intently read those books he already finished gave him more knowledge about his field that he never learned from the university, but despite of these further understanding, grumpy Arthur was grumpy Arthur.

Having the unexpected guest three weeks after their first meeting made him realize he could feel more emotions: annoyance, irritation, alertness, and even more grumpiness. But Arthur was a gentleman, so it would just be proper to invite the familiar lady to his garden for a cup of tea. “You’re here again.” Arthur calmly said as he sipped from his own cuppa.

“Yep. Sorry to disturb you. Well, actually, I was just wondering if you want any help?” Y/N tried to sound helpful. It was a usual problem for her to sound like it because she sounded very confident, sometimes even arrogant, which was usually misunderstood by other people. Perhaps because of the way she spoke, the way she acted – confident; not all people liked confident people. She would always want to help someone, just one person after another, not a group, especially someone who caught her attention and interest, but she would always be misinterpreted as boasting her free time and positivity. Just like one time she noticed how one of her classmates seemed to be always asleep in class and she offered her notes, and though the person was grateful for her help, the other classmates started a rumor of her trying to act cool while flirting. She could not tell them she just felt bad for the sleepy Spaniard. She could not tell them there were times before that she was also in need of studying materials, but because of having no acquaintance from any of her classes, she was anxious to ask anybody if she could borrow their notes. She just said “You’re welcome” when the Spaniard returned her notebook with a “Thank you”.

“No, thank you, but I don’t need any help.” The British man replied while his big brows furrowed a little because of his secret confusion at their situation. He did not even know the person in front of him drinking the tea he offered.

“I just noticed you’re always busy and looked so grumpy. So I thought you’d need some help.” Y/N’s ways could sometimes be easily misunderstood as simply bothering people, and it was what the British man actually felt, that he was being disturbed, pestered by a stranger. He was still assessing how to gentlemanly shoo the woman away but she spoke again. “I’m Y/N by the way. I live just around here. You’re quite famous here. I heard about a grumpy guardian guarding this beautiful house. I was really curious so I went here.” Y/N was careful enough to not mention how often she felt curious and walked slowly outside the property to get a decent look at the grumpy guardian while denying to herself she was acting like a creepy stalker; she believed she was not, and that she was just a curious neighbor.

But the Brit assumed she was a creepy stalker. Always busy? Always? How did she know? And a famous grumpy guardian? What the hell was that? Those idiot neighbors. But he was a gentleman. “I see. My name is Arthur.”

“May I call you Arthur? Or Doctor Arthur? Professor Arthur?”

It sounded good in Arthur’s ears. “I am still taking my Master’s. I think Arthur is alright.” Arthur was suddenly comfortable enough to almost boast.  

“Wow! Sorry, but how old are you? Honestly, I thought you’re an old grumpy man who just looks young and mature at the same time.” Y/N could now understand the still young appearance of the famous grumpy guardian, who, by the name he was known for, might usually be assumed as a really old man.

Arthur could not help but cringe in annoyance. How could a stranger who was apparently just a neighbor simply say things the way she did? But he answered anyway. “I’m twenty-three.”

“You’re just two years older than me! I’m graduating this year, by the way!” Y/N sounded so excited. anyway.

“Congratulations.” Arthur was still thinking how to gentlemanly send his neighbor away.

Y/N looked at her watch and gently set down her now empty cup. “I shall go to the grocery store now. Do you need anything?”

“None.” He did not even pretend to think, for there was no reason to do so; his neighbor Y/N was straightforward, and so was he.

Y/N stood up. “Alright. Just tell me if you need something, okay? Bye! Thanks for the tea! Until next time, Arthur!” And she walked outside while she casually waved a friendly goodbye to her neighbor.

Arthur forced a smile and sighed when Y/N was no longer in sight. “What is wrong with her? What is wrong with this neighborhood?” He tried to focus on the books, but he was greatly disturbed, and so he just tended the garden and thought to himself that perhaps it was not so bad to be disturbed from being grumpy. And perhaps he could someday make use of an errand person. He then thought to go to the kitchen; there were still enough ingredients for the scones he suddenly became excited of making for an expected guest next time.

[nicemango-feed]

Qasim Rashid's Tasteless Independent Piece about Sex Abuse

I was appalled to see this article on Twitter the other day. I don't even have the words to express how tacky and distasteful this is.  As the far-right rises in the West, I find myself more interested in pushing back against that (since it's more of an urgent issue impacting our day to day existence here).....than constantly criticizing Islam in a climate where Muslims are singled out, generalized and targeted.  Nuanced and legitimate criticisms are lost anyway nowadays, to fear-mongering about Mooz-lums raping their way across the globe to secretly instill Shariah.  But then there comes a situation where you just have to rebut something as stupid and insensitive as the article above...with all you've got. Hopefully, my rebuttal won't get lost with ignorant takes like: "Islam is worse than Nazism" or "90% of Muslims are ticking time-bombs"... ..so here goes:   With all the overuse and false accusations of "Regressive Left" floating around atheist twitter, its hard for an actual left-leaning person to recall a time when this term had meaning and referred to an actual problem. Well, this article is a great reminder on how the left can utterly fail in the way it deals with the topic of Islam. I can't believe such an article was approved and put out by such a well known publication. What were they thinking? Who is making these decisions? I mean...they may come from the perspective that they're doing this to offset the increasing anti-muslim bigotry, to normalize Muslims in a political climate where they become dehumanized more and more each day....but they can't seem to comprehend that defending Muslims can be separated from championing Islam. Before seeing this one, I came across quite a few tasteless takes regarding the awful Weinstein scandal. It seemed everywhere I looked someone was hijacking it to further their own agenda. A few standard "Oh you think Weinstein is bad, but what about Islam...that's way worse!!" type takes from ex-muslims that I've become used to seeing....and cringing at. Oh you think the alt right/white nationalism/nazism is bad? What about ISLAM - it's way worse!!" It seems, that some are incapable of discussing anything other than that one topic (which makes it all the more off-putting for me). There's a time and a place....there's a way to acknowledge multiple problems without minimizing the suffering of Weinstein's victims. This isn't to say, of course that when the conversation is turned towards sexual abuse that we cannot also bring up other forms that people often let slide.... especially when religion gets a pass on everything. I saw some Saudi feminists bring up some important points about how migrant domestic workers are assaulted on an everyday basis in Saudi society by privileged Saudi men...who get away with it. But they didn't do the, "Oh you think Weinstein is bad? Well Saudi men can be WAY worse" thing....where they bring the other topic to light only by minimizing the harm that Weinstein did. That is the difference.....one that many 'but what about Islam' types don't understand. "Yes we have similar problems too which we need to discuss" is a whole lot different from "Oh, Pfft, this? It's nothing compared to the cause *I've* dedicated *my* life to. And you know what, no one's perfect we're all likely to fall into that trap accidentally sometimes... but the ones who have a distinct repeated pattern of constantly being unable to address any issue without the added, "but what about Islam/The left" have become incredibly unhelpful voices. ...Speaking of unhelpful and cringeworthy voices though..I have to say Qasim Rashid, the author of the Independent piece is one of the worst I've encountered on this issue. The 'but what about Islam' takes are bad, but fuck....using a sex scandal to spread religious propaganda, to *proselytize*.... is a whole new level of scummy. Not only is it scummy but he goes about it in the most dishonest way. Yes we should absolutely encourage liberal, progressive interpretations of Islam. I find it incredibly unhelpful when people hold every liberal muslim to an 'ISIS purity test', that basically no one passes...and therefore the only 'real' muslims are the extremists. That is not a good approach. But, when it comes to more progressive interpretations of religion there are those who acknowledge the plurality and plausibility of multiple interpretations. They admit that some verses are just not ok by today's values. People like Qasim however will argue that everyone else has it wrong... they've misinterpreted and HE somehow has the correct interpretation. They cherry pick without acknowledging they are cherry picking, unlike more honest reformists who openly say that cherry picking is the path forward. Like all the Abrahamic religions, obviously...Islam too is full of contradictory crap er...stuff. So naturally you can pick a bunch of things that sound alright, or you can pick a bunch of things that sound barbaric. But if you really want to look at the whole picture you can't ignore either...both anti-muslims and apologists for scripture like to ignore the aspect convenient to their narrative and push the other. "Islam is PURE EVIL" or "Islam is PERFECT and PEACEFUL and FEMINIST" .... there are some pretty vile, murderous, misogynistic, hateful things in there...certainly some of that is 'evil'....but there are some alright bits that are cherry picked by modern progressive muslims, which makes most of them peaceful. 'Perfect', it certainly is not...'feminist'...nope. Be wary of anyone claiming either of those. I mean its absurd on the face of it...morals from centuries ago are simply not going to work today. If you try to claim they are *perfect* for today, then you're endorsing or twisting some pretty awful shit. Anyway.... *Cracks knuckles* Lets get into it....this fuckin' article. What a crock of shit. "My advocacy is informed not just by the law, but by strategies detailed in Islamic teachings and Prophet Muhammad’s example to pre-empt sexual abuse." Almost spit my beverage all over my keyboard...thanks for that Qasim. Would Mo's example pre-empt sexual abuse here?

From Sahih Bukhari

Slavery too....if defined by scripture is permissible in Islam....and slaves were to accept that owners are allowed to sleep with them at will. As stated in Quran 33:50

Obviously this is not a practice any decent Muslim would endorse today, but if you want to go by Mo's example...then it's worth mentioning. It would be one thing to make some excuse about it being a different time....and the example not measuring up by today's values... but if you are going to literally say a sex slave owner's values are what can prevent sexual abuse....I'm going to have a thing or two to say. Yes such slavery predates Islam, and so continued under Islam...I am not a fan of people using archaic texts to define an entire diverse group by today. So no this is not for you far-righters who paint all muslims as pedophilic rapists. What about this strategy detailed in the Quran, 4:34

Does making men in charge, commanding women to be obedient, and giving permission to 'strike them' also pre-empt sexual abuse?

***

I have to say I cringe a little while I'm picking out these verses to debunk this idiotic article, because I'm all too used to seeing how anti-muslims use these to dehumanize and generalize Muslims who may not even be aware of such verses. I know many like myself were taught curated versions of scripture. Religion is full of this kind of nonsense.... slavery, stoning babies, virgins...killing people who disobey...fathers ok-ing rape of their daughters for a few $$. Islam is certainly not alone in this, so think twice before painting Muslims with a broad brush. I cannot say that enough, especially in the Trumpian era.

***

"Let’s start by understanding two facts. First, a woman’s attire, alcohol intake, marital status, and education level do not contribute to sexual abuse – abusive men do. Second, sexual abuse doesn’t happen in a vacuum. Every level of society – social norms, media, and Government – is complicit in promoting the rape culture that perpetuates sexual abuse." "Social norms demonise a woman for speaking out, victim-blaming her by asking what she was wearing, whether she gave signals inviting abuse, or asking why she didn’t speak up sooner." Very good Qasim...I'm glad you pointed out that a woman's attire doesn't matter. But the Quran (24:31) seems to disagree,

Here it tells believing women not to flaunt their assets, and even wrap a portion of their headscarves/outer garments over their chests. Clearly a woman's attire mattered to Allah, and therefore Mo quite a bit. (24:60) only postmenstrual woman are allowed to cast out their 'outer garments' even then being careful not to display any 'adornment':

So Qasim, when you talk about social norms demonizing a woman, victim-blaming her by asking her what she was wearing....perhaps look honestly at the things you yourself recommended to 'pre-empt' sexual abuse. Laughable really. Don't even get me started on the punishments Islam prescribes someone for adultery...so I'm pretty sure marital status matters too. You're right when you say every level of society can be complicit in promoting a culture that perpetuates abuse....but you conveniently miss out religion - old value systems that simply didn't classify abuse in the same way we do now. If you want to be a women's advocate, how about not preaching a misogynistic religion to them while they open up about their painful abuse experiences. "state laws only punish the actor once the act is completed, they don’t prevent the act in the first place. This scenario plays out repeatedly worldwide, whether we’re discussing “revenge porn”, gender based violence, or sexual harassment in the workplace.

This is where Islamic teachings and Prophet Muhammad’s example provide a solution that no state truly can. "

What the fuck, dude. What are you even trying to say here? While you're right that banning cat calling won't work, and that it isn't preventative... what's your solution? Islam and Mohammed? Are you for fucking real right now? Are you saying that being fearful of some god that would burn you for eternity and that following in the footsteps of a prophet who's example isn't known for his fair treatment of women, who owned slaves...and consummated with a child is what will prevent sex abuse better than modern man-made law?!  Right because religious people NEVER sexually abuse anyone....if only they had had access to the teachings if Islam and the example of Mo. It's embarrassing really, to even debunk this.

Read story here

"Yes, Islam implores accountability to the creator, but rather than preach empty dogmatic theories, Islam instead prescribes a proven secular model." What are you even on about? Accountability to the creator? How old are you... how well has that worked to prevent religious people from sexually abusing people or committing any crimes? Secular model? What? "Thus, the Quran 4:2 first establishes men and women as equal beings. Chapter 4:20 then forbids men from forcing a woman to act against her will, thereby ensuring women maintain autonomy and self-determination. " Now, just because theres some contradictory more benign seeming stuff in there... doesn't mean you can ignore the wife beating verse (4:34), where aside from the 'strike them' nastiness...it literally says this: "Men are in charge of women by [right of] what Allah has given one over the other" Or how about the women are your farmland... plough them however you like (just don't do anal tut tut) verse (2:223)?

I mean, I hate to put on my "let me point out all the awful verses in the Quran/Hadith" hat right now, because I know the alt/far-right loves that stuff and uses it to stir hatred for whole groups which include people like me and my family. But in the face of this tasteless absurdity, I cannot remain silent. I can only hope I put enough "I dislike anti-muslims" caveats in here that it prevents them from latching on to this particular piece. I'm not alone in feeling that my criticism of Islam is sort of stifled at the moment because it's too easily hijacked by bigots, anyone with a shred of decency is feeling that right now.

Anyway, back to this unfckingbelievably ridiculous piece. I honestly can't wrap my head around how awful it is..and what kind of person you'd have to be to write something like this, especially in the midst of a high profile hollywood sex scandal. "Here..... stop fussing about this sex scandal...and listen to all the good things about MY religion, one that has a bad reputation for it's treatment of women" ....Oh ok @ssh*le.  -___- Aaand it gets a whole lot worse than I imagined. Qasim actually links to a previous even more nauseating piece he did about THE WIFE BEATING VERSE FFS, where it's a bunch of the most pathetic and weak twisted apologetics for 4:34, and it's actually titled: "The Islamic Solution to *stop* Domestic Violence" [emphasis mine] I can't....I have to take a break.....I walk away from the computer, pour a drink, take a breath. Alright, I'm back...What was I saying? Oh yeah... His fucking *solution* is the verse that says men are in charge of women and you can strike them. THAT, to him is pre-empting domestic violence.. because by making men in charge it gives them some responsibilities and shit. He's thrilled it doesn't go straight to beating....this is a good thing apparently....An 'anger management strategy' - what the actual fuck is wrong with this guy and how is he allowed to pump this shit out in mainstream liberal publications like Huffpo and Independent?? And I quote, from the Huffpo piece, "Pre-emptive deterrence is the key. And this precisely is the wisdom behind verse 4:34 to decrease and stop violence against women. The verse in its totality describes a process of restraint, anger management and reformation." 'Wisdom' he says...About an infantilizing, abusive verse that clearly doesn't hold women in high regard. Just because it doesn't jump straight to the beating, it's a process of restraint. Fucking hell. "Employed effectively, these two steps help reconcile the vast majority of domestic disputes. Should the first two steps fail, however, the Quran allows — never commands — men to consider the third step, translated as “to chastise them.” Look, it *allows* --- it doesn't *command* you to 'chastise' your wife. (since the beating isn't compulsory...that makes it totally ok) Firstly Qasim, slick replacement of strike with 'chastise'. Secondly, obviously this is only for the rarest of times...for when the first two infantilizing and humiliating methods don't work on her (that totally excuses the fact that u can resort to ..you know... beating her) If the first two steps don't sort out your domestic dispute, it's because you didn't employ these perfect strategies 'effectively'.... Of course then his article delves into semantic bullshit about how the word for strike isn't actually that. Nothing I haven't heard before...but I haven't come across anyone with the audacity to argue they are progressive *and* suggest the wife beating verse as a goddamn *solution* to domestic violence. There are many Muslims who genuinely acknowledge that this verse is not palatable today....Qasim is not one of them. He would rather twist it to say it means the opposite of what it says in mainstream interpretations of the Quran. He'd rather appear dishonest in front of anyone who knows anything about Islam. This doesn't help Muslims, or their reputation...quite the opposite in fact. So I sincerely don't understand why left leaning publications put out stuff like this. All this does is breathe fire into anti-muslim movements. It energizes them, gives them something to rally around.

***

Sorry I went off into a rabbit hole there for a bit, so enough about the horrid Huffpo piece, and back on to the horrid Independent one....where were we... "And when it comes to the Islamic concept of Hijab, it is men who are first commanded to never gawk at women, and instead guard their private parts and chastity, regardless of how women choose to dress – pre-empting sexual abuse." I just love how he selectively points to the male requirements for modesty, saying that it tells men to lower their gaze... but he completely skips over the modesty requirements for women. You know, what hijab is literally KNOWN for? Slut-shaming women into covering head to toe and holding them responsible for provoking lust....no mention of the double standards about what men are required to do vs women. Of course men are commanded first because the whole Quran refers only to men directly (with a couple of exceptions)...when it refers to women it is in third person or via men..."tell your women/wives" type stuff. The Quran isn't some great feminist book, it puts men first because it only talks to *them* directly. "Accordingly, the Prophet Muhammad by example demonstrated that the burden of modesty, respect, and combating abuse of women rests on men. Indeed, men must take the lead in stopping such sexual abuse." Oh COME ON, the guy who married a six year old and had slaves? I really hate to sound like a broken record here... but Qasim is being one, so I need to keep repeating the obvious. "After all, while the Quran obliges women to dress modestly as a covenant with God, Islam prescribes no punishment whatsoever for women who choose to dress otherwise." Oh yeah totally, it's just an afterthought that the Quran obliges women to dress modestly...nothing to do with placing the blame on them for enticing men. Oh and the Quran doesn't describe the details of Salaat/prayer either....so I guess that must not be Islamic either. Here's a verse specifically commanding the wives of the prophet to stay home and not display themselves if they want to be 'purified' (funny thing is, this is one of like 2 or so verses that directly address women, and it's to tell them to not put themselves on display! Imagine that.)

O wives of the Prophet, you are not like anyone among women. If you fear Allah, then do not be soft in speech [to men], lest he in whose heart is disease should covet, but speak with appropriate speech.

And abide in your houses and do not display yourselves as [was] the display of the former times of ignorance. And establish prayer and give zakah and obey Allah and His Messenger. Allah intends only to remove from you the impurity [of sin], O people of the [Prophet's] household, and to purify you with [extensive] purification.

And 33:59 spells it out clearly, women of the believers....cover yourselves so you aren't abused.

Just because the book hasn't specifically prescribed a beating in *this* situation... (I mean... a lot could be covered under 'disobedient wives') - doesn't mean that the general climate of "stay at home, do not put yourselves on display... or else you won't be pure" crap isn't pressuring women with the threat of hellfire.

"women in Islam rise to the rank of legal scholars, warriors, entrepreneurs, and philanthropists while lovingly embracing identities as mothers and housewives.

Weinstein is a symptom of the greater disease of arrogance, unaccountability, societal apathy, and from men who knew of the abuse but did nothing. Islam and Prophet Muhammad provide a practical solution."

Oh ffs, a man who ok-ed wife beating and keeping them at home, married a child and thought women could be owned as slaves does NOT provide a practical solution to sexual abuse. You're an embarrassment Qasim. 

So shameless...

"Together, we can employ a proven Islamic model that will stop this madness, and re-invoke gender equity today in America, and the world."

Who is he preaching to? How did the Independent let this happen, this is like a lecture you'd hear at Islamic Sunday School....does no one understand that this kind of horrific dishonesty, easily debunked....does nothing to help muslims. 

It's a real shame this man gets a platform like this. I'll say again, who approved this and what were they thinking? Who is the audience they hoped to reach with "together lets employ an Islamic model to stop sexual abuse"? This is some bullshit 'religious right' propaganda....get it together Independent. 

I'm all out of facepalms. I think that's all I got for today. 

***

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