#look in the likes of that ask - those are also the people who have said bad things about satoryuga lol

[nothing-an-iratze-cant-fix]

“He was deeply insecure about his own lack of knowledge, preferring to either ignore information that contradicted his preconceptions, or to lash out at the expertise of others — he was said to “rage like a tiger” if anybody corrected him. . . . He hated being laughed at, but enjoyed it when other people were the butt of the joke (he would perform mocking impressions of people he disliked). But he also craved the approval of those he disdained, and his mood would quickly improve if a newspaper wrote something complimentary about him.

(He) hated having to read paperwork, and would regularly make important decisions without even looking at the documents his aides had prepared for him. Rather than having policy discussions with his underlings, he’d subject them to impromptu rambling speeches about whatever was on his mind — which they dreaded, as it meant no more work could be done until he was finished.

His government was constantly in chaos, with officials having no idea what he wanted them to do, and nobody was entirely clear who was actually in charge of what. He procrastinated wildly when asked to make difficult decisions, and would often end up relying on gut feeling, leaving even close allies in the dark about his plans.” – Tom Phillips discussing Hitler in his book Humans.

Yes. We’re doing this all over again.

Yo, correct me if I am wrong please, but didn't Hitler rise to power because he promised to fix the German economy and people really liked that so they looked past everything else he was doing??? Like exactly what's happening in America right now???

So many people said they voted for Trump, put a truly evil person in power, because he said he'd fix the economy, and a little voice in my head is going, "Isn't that what happened with fucking Hitler??"

But I've seen no one point that out so maybe I'm miss remembering???????

[goatgoesmbe]

So about that post of Simons gf that's super kind. what if she's petty with her kindness. one time me and my mom got in fight and that same day she complained about how many house plants she had. so i bought her a miniature rose bush (roses being a hard plant to take care of) as make up gift. I've also made other people their coffee wrong, bought unbalanced pens, gave there cats cat nip, given their children obnoxiously loud toys, etc.

OOOH ANON, I LOVE THISS-

Like- just because reader is sweet, that doesn't mean being a pushover. You have class, and your own way of handling assholes properly.

I imagine Simon would think he needed to be the one who protect you, seeing you're all sunshine and rainbow, always so nice and kind- and he just didn't want anyone to take advantage of you, you know?

But then he realized that you're actually not a damsel in distress.

The first time he saw it, was at a neighbor's baby shower..

"You've been with him for what? 3 years now- and still no ring?" Simon glanced at you who simply smiled in response.

He recognized that voice, Stella was her name or something. She was one of those people who always wanted attention, bragging about every little thing while also dragging people down just so she could feel better about herself.

Simon had to hold back from rolling his eyes when she previously arrived. Wearing matching designer clothes with her five-year-old son, Aiden. Which was a waste of money in his opinion, the little fella will grow out of them in a short time after all.

"I mean.. come on, you're not getting any younger.. better make it official soon before you get expired- he might not be attracted to you anymore then" Before you could respond to the previous jab, Stella continued talking. You could see why she would ask something like that, it was just how she was like after all. You and Simon have reasons, but it was really none of her business. And you couldn't exactly explain to her that your boyfriend is legally dead so you couldn't marry him properly.

Simon wasn't even listening to the other lads around him anymore- not that he did in the first place. Looking at you directly from his spot, he observed the others who interact with you. You were surrounded by the other moms from the neighborhood, yet none of them said anything against Stella.

He saw you giggled and brushed off Stella's words way too casually like it didn't affect you, or maybe you didn't get that she was mocking you- Simon wasn't sure.

"It's time to go, luv" His gruff voice stopped their conversation as he approached you. He could feel their eyes on him, some of them not hiding the fact that they found him attractive from how they looked up at him with a slight flush on their cheeks. He wondered how you were comfortable being around them at all, he never spent more than a few words with them and already felt like committing murder.

Well.. whatever, you won't be meeting them again soon since you two were planning to move away.

You looked up at him with those big innocent eyes and pouted "But-". "It's late" he added, putting his hand on your hip and pulling you close to make a statement at the others who still shamelessly gawked at him.

Seeing that look in his eyes- the one that means he accepted no rejection, you sighed. "Alright, let me say my goodbye" You said before turning back to them.

Simon simply grunted and waited. And when he thought you were ready to go, he raised an eyebrow when you instead walked over to the kids who were busy playing. You told them about you moving out from the neighborhood and the kids didn't seem to like that, you were their favorite after all.

"I have something for you guys to remember me by.." You chirped. Immediately, the kids looked at you with eagerness as you rummaged through your tote bag.

The side of his lips lifted under his mask when he saw you pulling out mini harmonicas. Before you could say anything more, a brat snatched one out of your hands. That was Aiden, Stella's spoiled boy. Which means it would be hard for the mom to get the noisy thing from him.

A cute little giggle escaped your lips as you watched the boy immediately blew on the harmonica messily, spraying spit everywhere.

After you made sure every kids got one, you stood up and hold his hand before skipping away with him in tow. Cacophony of moms frustrated yelling, children's laugh, and loud harmonicas left behind.

So you had planned your revenge all along, huh? Seems like you're not a total angel like he thought you were.

...

The second time is when he visited you at work. While he provided you enough for you to stay home and do nothing, you still insisted on having your own cafe. Saying that it had been your dream since you were little. And how can he say no when you look at him with those puppy eyes?

And while you do have people working for you, you still helped around from time to time. "It's the best part about having a cafe" you said to him that one time.

He was sitting at a table close enough to observe you working in that cute little uniform you designed yourself for the cafe when a guy walked in. His appearance screamed 'douche', the kind of guy who would talk about how many body counts is too many for a woman in a podcast.

Despite that, you greeted him cheerfully like you do with every other costumers. Even when he told you to write 'daddy' on the cup after you asked for a name, a disgusting smirk on his lips.

Meaning you would need to yell out that word to call for him when the order was ready.

And while Simon was fuming inside, you were calm. Humming along with the music playing from the speaker as you prepared the coffee.

But, instead of calling for the guy yourself, you turn to one of your employees. His name was Shane, written on the name tag clipped to his uniform. He was a big guy, not any taller than your boyfriend but still. A simple man who will be pleased spending the night scarfing down pizzas and beers. Now, Shane was known for many things, one of them is being very gay, and he was totally not shy about it.

You smiled before turning away to take the next order, but also secretly paying attention to what was going to happen next.

"Daddy..!" Shane shamelessly sing-sung the word loudly and even when Simon expected it already, he still choked on his tea. He also saw you biting down your lip to prevent yourself from laughing.

Shane went on for a while until the whole cafe fell silent except for the music playing that didn't fit the situation at all, which made it more hilarious.

'Daddy' finally walked over to get his order. Red in the face and looking very pissed. He was not stupid enough to cause a scene however, and simply accepted his cup without so much as a thank you. And of course Shane added the cherry on top by throwing a flirty wink.

And when you noticed the way he glanced at you after taking a sip of his coffee, tasting regular milk instead of almond- knowing full well he told you before that he was lactose intolerant. You simply gave him that sweet smile of yours, a cheerful "Thank you, please come back again..!" Thrown his way like how it always is whenever a costumer was leaving.

Simon chuckled under his breath and shook his head. Feeling proud (and maybe a bit scared) of his pretty bird being cruel in her own ways.

So when he saw you sighing after an argument on the phone with your mom, he didn't question it when you went ahead and buy a make up gift for her.

[revelboo]

Cannot believe that knockout has a HUMAN side piece and that breakdown is jealous of them smh 😔

(I love your writing sm btw I'm binging everything)

I can see Breakdown being the more attentive, affectionate of the two in a relationship once he gets over the fear of reader stealing Knockout. Any unpleasantness with the human just gets pawned off on him by Knockout, though. You’re sick? Ew. No, that’s Breakdown’s problem now.

My Favorite Accident Pt 10

TFP Knockout x Reader x Breakdown

• Heart racing as the car puts itself into gear and starts rolling, wheel turning, you dig your fingers into your thighs. There’s something seriously wrong with you for being relieved that you’re being grabbed by one of them, someone who knows Knockout and not some random, human druggie. “We race together,” you say, putting your hands in your lap remembering how weird Knockout was about you touching things inside him. “Are you his friend?” Because you really wish you’d asked Knockout more questions about his people. He’s gossiped enough though to remember names he’s dropped. And one he’d mentioned more than any other. “You’re Breakdown, right?”

• Engine stuttering for a klik at the fact that Knockout had told you about him, he growls. What exactly had the medic told you? “That’s right.” And okay, that voice of yours is soothing. Is that the fascination? Knockout just liking how you sound? Knows Knockout can be a bit funny about things he finds pretty, but aside from that soft voice, you’re just another organic flesh bag. Nothing special. Why reveal himself? “He talks to you about me often?”

• Enough to know this is his bestie and maybe something a bit more. Do alien robots do romance? Because when he’d mentioned this guy, he’d sounded almost wistful for all of five seconds before catching himself and swapping back to arrogant condescension. “He said you look after the,” you begin and hesitate as you scrabble for the word he’d used, “Vehicons. Make sure they have what they need.” Even if Knockout had sounded torn between almost admiration and annoyed bemusement by that. Like Breakdown was wasting his time.

• Engine rumbling as you fidget in his passenger seat, he vents. “Someone has to,” he mutters. It had been an insult when they’d put him over the cloned soldiers, but really, they’re Cybertronians, too. They have sparks. And he’d just shrugged it off, doing his assignment to the best of his ability. Trying to lobby for better conditions, a bit more rations for them. “Those energon mines are death traps even when we’re not at war.”

• “I think that’s what Knockout admires about you. That you care,” you say, because staying on this guy’s good side seems prudent. And you have no idea where he’s taking you, but you’re starting to get worried. “You’re not driving me out in the desert to dump my body, are you?” Because he’d left the outskirts of your little town miles ago. And he laughs, but also doesn’t answer your question. “Cause Knockout may be a little put out at losing the only real competition he has in the races.” No response. Alright then. You grab his gear shift and shove it into park catching him by surprise as he shudders and snarls, hear his startled alien swearing as you claw at the little nob to unlock the door, breaking a nail before throwing open the door and running flat out.

Previous

[hirayalore]

Hi :) Can you read "Sirius Black x Mudblood!Slytherin fem!reader" story. It can also be platonic because of the home and blood status of the reader.

Thank you already

[ sirius black x slytherin!reader | fluff | 2.9k words ]

note. hehehe made a few alterations so that it’d make sense why the reader is put into slytherin despite being “muggle-born” since i don’t think a muggle-born would be placed in the said house (i blame my brain for being too invested that i can’t let it pass hsdjhsjdh).

this is also kinda unedited (unfortunately i too am lazy) and went way longer than intended because i couldn’t resist putting in a little backstory!!! ALSO did i mention that this sirius has me on my knees??????

Everybody always wondered how the Sorting Hat decided to put you in Slytherin.

In their eyes and in their mind, you were a Muggle-born—a filthy Mudblood—the exact kind of wizard that Salazar Slytherin detested and insisted not to invite in Hogwarts during its establishment.

Even now when it has been 7 years since the sorting ceremony, you could feel the curious eyes of everybody in the Great Hall whenever it was hard to sleep, could hear how those Slytherins murmured amongst themselves and asked which family you belonged, taking into consideration that the last name you bore didn’t sound familiar nor seemed like it came from the Sacred Twenty-Eight to be worthy of being part of their Hogwarts house.

But what they weren’t aware of—and what you only came to discover yourself many years later during adulthood—is that you actually came from an ancient and noble pure-blood family, a lineage that was acclaimed to be one of the oldest wizarding clans in Britain until its believed downfall in the late 1950s.

It was just that your parents, who have died for a reason that remained to be unknown (yet believed to be the cause of the Dark Lord), left you at the doorstep of an unsuspecting Muggle family just days before their passing, believing that you were safer at the hands of the non-magic folk.

They were right, of course. The Muggle family that raised you did their best in making sure that you were loved and cherished in every way possible. Hence when you received your Hogwarts letter at the age of 11, although they were confused as you were, they did the best they could to support you and lead you to the world they were convinced you always belonged in.

But contrary to your real parents who had great judgment in bringing you to a loving Muggle home, your Muggle parents were misled to think that it would be good for you to be with others like your kind, oblivious to the discrimination and hatred that you faced for merely growing up with non-wizards.

“That’s my seat, Mudblood,” Mallory Flint practically hissed at you upon finding you in the common room, reading on one of the leather sofas with the thought that you could have some peace and quiet even for a day.

You sighed, closing your book.

At this point, you were smart enough not to fight back and give people like Mallory the satisfaction of being affected by their harsh treatment.

However, as you stood up and attempted to walk past her, she grabbed your arm, holding you in place. “You have something you want to say to me, ____?” she taunted, smirking. “You look angry ‘cause I’m making you leave.”

You press your mouth together, your teeth gritting in self-restraint. “No, I’m not angry.”

Her smirk transformed into a sneer. “Is that so?” she said. “Good then–because you should really know by now that there’s no place for people like you here in Slytherin. Or perhaps do you still need a reminder? A little knock on the head to help you with what you’re always forgetting?”

At the word ‘knock’, Mallory tapped your head with the tip of her wand, leaving a slight sting that you couldn’t pretend didn’t exist.

You bit the insides of your cheeks, a scowl casting your features that she noticed.

She raised her eyebrows, understanding now what ticked you off, and without hesitating, tapped your head again, this time harder.

“Seemed like you do need a few little knocks to get your brain working. Must be due to being a Mudblood and all.”

Her minions laughed at the statement, the obnoxious and annoying sound of their laughter leading you to grow more pissed off than you should be.

It must have been that, and your impatience this evening—and the way Mallory didn’t stop sputtering nonsense, and how the initial peace you thought you were granted earlier was stolen, that brought you to abruptly whip your wand out at the motion of her attempting to hit your head again.

She paused, scoffing, eyes growing darker at the manner in which you pointed it in her direction in warning. “You sure you want to do that, ____?”

At your silence, she gave you another sneer and another hard knock.

On the forehead.

You no longer thought twice, your hand was already moving before you could properly think.

With a quick swish of your wand and a whispered incantation, a hex was sent to Mallory’s direction, hitting her on the front of her face and giving her a minor whiplash. 

“Bloody—” She began to scream in disbelief at your audacity, but her words cut off as her tongue started to change, elongating and hardening into a horn. It gave her the unsettling appearance of a twisted Pinocchio—only instead of an abnormally long nose, it was her tongue that had transformed.

You couldn’t help but snicker at the ridiculousness of how she looked.

But then Mallory’s friends turned to you (after fussing over their leader who was now red in the face and throwing some sort of tantrum), and you were immediately reminded that this standoff wasn’t over unless they already had their revenge.

So, in sudden fear for your life, you sprinted out of the Slytherin common room as fast as you could, hearing their footsteps follow after you with an even faster speed to catch up.

You had no idea where to go, and you were sure that it was past curfew already given the empty hallways that you darted past through. You kept on thinking of places to hide, of vacant classrooms you could run into for the meanwhile, yet given how your mind was in shambles and playing a loop of Mallory’s tongue turning into a frightening horn, you just couldn’t identify where the best hiding spot could be.

That is until you turned to the left corridor of the seventh floor and spotted a massive door you didn't recall ever seeing, its sight urging you to come closer and come in.

You took a pause, contemplating if it was wise to go inside a room you had a strange feeling about, but at the sound of your bullies’ footsteps getting louder, you deduced that you had no choice and grabbed the door handle, no time for second-guessing.

Quickly stepping inside, you tried to lock the door to prevent them from coming in if ever they realize that this is where you must have gone to. 

However, such measures didn’t need to be done because as soon as you were in the darkly lit room, catching your breath and making sense of what was happening—the door began to slowly deteriorate in front of you, slowly being absorbed in the wall and vanishing subsequently.

“Shite,” you whispered, panic bubbling in your system at the realization that you might be trapped here for the whole night.

You took a step back, examining the entirety of the wall, trying to see something that wasn’t there to help you with your case. But there was nothing, only granite or stale or whatever material it was that these stones were made of. 

“It’ll come back,” a sudden drawling voice interrupted your inner turmoil and made you freeze on the spot. “I’d say give it a few minutes or so.”

You swiveled around almost immediately, alerted by the presence of another person in this makeshift sanctuary the castle made for you. 

The moment you did, your gaze landed ahead to where a boy with dark mid-length hair was leaning forward against the balcony, his back turned to you. You couldn’t see his features clearly, even when he moved his head to the side to reveal a cigarette between his lips—yet the moment he looked in your direction and your eyes met, it dawned on you who this boy was.

Sirius Black, one of the four infamous troublemakers in Gryffindor.

You blinked in surprise while he kept his eyes locked on you, blowing a ring of smoke in the air with unusual ease.

The both of you have never interacted before despite being in the same batch and a few classes since first year. You were sure that the reason behind that was perhaps his great hatred towards Slytherins, as you were no stranger to how he often delivered biting remarks towards Severus Snape and yelled insults to your house at every acceptable opportunity he could find (e.g. Quidditch matches).

Nonetheless, you’ve always been silently thankful that his annoyance towards Slytherin never extended to you, as you reckoned you were already suffering enough with the majority of your housemates alone to deal with another menace like himself.

“I hope you’re not planning to stand there all evening,” he said.

At his comment, you forced yourself to march towards the balcony, not knowing how you should approach this peculiar situation. A part of you was convinced that being here was no better than being out there, but the other part was telling you that Sirius hasn’t hexed you yet so that must be a good sign.

When you reached the balcony, the cool air greeted you and tossed your hair back in the breeze. You squinted a bit, brushing aside the slight burning sensation it gave your eyes, and took in the beauty of the night horizon. You didn’t even think Hogwarts offered such a view, maybe due to how your common room was in dungeons and you were far too much of a coward when it came to extreme heights to reward yourself with this kind of scenery.

You could see the school grounds, the distant ridges of the Scottish Highlands… the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch Pitch, the Black Lake that appeared serene in the moonlight…  

“Wow,” you breathed out, not realizing that you said it loud enough for Sirius to hear.

He glanced at you. Then, his hand suddenly stretched closer to where you were, offering a cigarette with a casual gesture. “You seem like you need it.”

You didn’t know what that meant. Regardless, you took the stick from his possession.

Sirius waited, staring, and upon feeling like you were left with no option but to finish what you started, you hesitantly took a drag, inhaling far too quickly that as soon as the smoke entered your lungs, you were coughing it out—your throat burning and eyes watering alongside it.

A smirk flickered across his face. “You’ve never done that before,” he said, his tone making it very apparent that he was stating a fact and not asking for a confirmation.

You urged him to reclaim the cigarette with haste, still coughing while also fanning the smoke away. “Merlin, why do you lot—” cough, cough— “enjoy that? It’s like gulping down a mouthful of dragon's breath!”

“It can be therapeutic.” He brought it again to his lips and drew deeply on the cigarette, releasing a slow puff of smoke. “And you should have told me you’ve never smoked before. Peer pressure isn’t exactly my style.”

“I wanted to give it a go.”

“Which clearly, you hated.”

“Clearly.” You were still coughing, your mouth awfully tasting like ash. 

Sirius grinned. “Well, at least you know better than to take a cigarette without knowing how to smoke next time.”

“Thanks for stating the obvious.”

He watched in obvious amusement as you continued to cough, looking like you wished you could conjure water or whatever it was that would help the itching that you were still feeling inside your throat to go away. It was unlike you to go head on with something so unfamiliar and so… unorthodox as smoking, but there must have been something with the already unpredictable events of this evening or the presence of a mischief-maker as Sirius that coerced you to do it.

You twisted around once you calmed down, returning to your previous position to go back in admiring the starry sky, unbeknownst that Sirius was still staring at you. “Will it really take long before the door appears again?”

“Not too long.” He exhaled the last wisp of smoke away from you, then pressed the cigarette to the cool stone of the balcony, snuffing it out with a slow motion. “Just until the people you’re running from are far enough.”

Heat crept to your face. “I wasn’t running away from people.”

“Sure you weren’t.” That obnoxious smirk made a reappearance on his infuriatingly handsome features. “And I didn’t go here because I was running away from Filch.”

That made you scoff. “You were running away from Filch?”

“Yeah. James and I put Dungbombs in his office.” He seemed proud. “Then we almost got caught, and James ran back to the Gryffindor Tower while I went here to my favorite hiding spot.”

You looked at your surroundings, pretty much confused on which part of the castle you were supposed to be. “Where are we exactly?”

“No clue.” Sirius shrugged, unbothered by the fact that he indeed didn’t have a clue on where you two  were exactly. “Only thing I know about this place is that it’s here whenever I need it. The first time I found it, it was last year when I was sneaking out at night and almost ran into Professor McGonagall.”

“Of course, you were.” You mumbled.

“So, who is it?” He asked, going back to the main topic, curious. “Was it Filch too?”

You shook your head. “No, it wasn’t Filch.”

“A professor?”

“No.”

“An ex-boyfriend?”

A snort. “No.”

“Then who?”

You sighed, relenting on just disclosing who the person was since you reckoned it wasn’t information that needed to be kept secret at all cost anyways. “It was Mallory Flint—well, her minions, actually—but it’s because of her. Always been. I’m sure you’re well aware of who she is.”

“I am.” He narrowed his eyes, pretending to think. “She’s that Slytherin girl who looks like she might have been conceived from a troll, isn’t she?”

The unforeseen insult caused you to laugh out loud, your laughter slightly echoing in the walls. “Yes, you are absolutely right.”

Sirius laughed as well. “What’d she do?”

“Oh, you know, the standard. Insulting me, taunting me, rubbing it in my face that I’m a—” You abruptly stopped yourself, this sense of awareness that you were babbling too much hitting you hard.

This was Sirius Black for Merlin’s sake. He hated Slytherins, and you knew that he came from a lineage of respectable pure-blood wizards too (qualities of his that were awfully contradicting). Venting about the discrimination you constantly faced and the bullying you had to endure since you stepped foot in this school might not be the smartest decision to make.

“A Muggle-born.” He finished for you.

You swallowed hard. “Yeah. That.”

“Typical. They always think that they’re bloody above everybody else.”

“You don’t think the same?” you asked. “I mean, you’re not much different than they are.”

Sirius scowled at that, like the implication of your words offended him. “Being a pure-blood is not something worth flaunting about.”

“It doesn’t look like it to other people.”

“Well,” he breathed in deeply, gray eyes flickering to the view ahead, “those kinds of people have nothing to brag about other than being a pure-blood. A bit tragic if you come to think of it.”

“I suppose.” Your fingers were absentmindedly scratching the material of your robes. “So, does that mean you have other things to brag about other than being in the noble house of Black?” You then added with a tease.

His lips curved up, displaying an expression that showed a combination of a smirk and grin. “Obviously. With a face like mine, do you really think anyone sees me and immediately thinks about my bloodline?”

The confidence, the way he looked at you, and the fact that he was goddamn correct made you blush. It led you to be speechless for a good minute, staring at him and his face that really could make anyone forget about his last name—something that you know he notices with how his grin takes its full form.

However, before he could comment about it and make you wish that the ground would swallow you whole, his gaze shifted to the doors, and you followed suit, exhaling in relief as the exit reappeared, granting you a chance to escape.

“Uh, I should go,” you said immediately, a statement that he raised an eyebrow at in obvious amusement. “Wouldn’t want to be caught or anything.”

“Sure, love. You do that.”

You ignored the hard beat of your heart. “And you? You’ll stay?”

“For a few minutes more, yeah.”

“Alright. Well…” You trailed, already inching towards the door. “Bye, then.”

You muttered curses under your breath as you made a run for it towards the doors, scolding yourself for appearing like a damn fool in front of Sirius. You were certain that he was making fun of you in his head, or that he was going to tell this encounter to James Potter, or that when you wake up tomorrow, your housemates will find another reason to torment you because of being chummy with a Gryffindor like Sirius.

“Hey, ____.”

You stopped in your tracks. Not only because he called your name, but because you were shocked that he even knew it in the first place.

With a slow turn, you saw him leaning backwards against the balcony, elbows supporting him.

“Hm?” You tried to act nonchalant.

He tilted his head slightly, smiling smugly, and carried on uttering the words that you’d come to replay in your mind over and over again.

“Same time tomorrow?”

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[amphibianauthor]

This! I was also very very lucky to have similar parenting circumstances. I was raised with parents who treated me as a mini-adult that could be explained choices. I will say one of the requirements for this type of parenting style is to understand that your child might be smarter than you in some areas or ask questions you feel like you should know and you don't. And you should be okay telling your child that you don't know something. That your own ego will be okay if you feel stupid.

Let me explain.

As a child, it was an established rule in my house that no questions are bad questions and my parents would ALWAYS answer questions as accurately (but age appropriate) as possible.* Questions were encouraged. If my parents couldn't answer a question right away they'd say something like "I'll answer once we finish x."

Questions were never a thing to be demonized in my house. Whenever I had questions/feelings, I always felt like I could go to my parents for advice or feedback without judgement. No matter the feelings we were allowed to question everything--from the rules they made, the reasoning behind said rules, why my parents were feeling a certain way, why grandparents might act specific ways, why I was being treated a certain way, I could question it and get an honest, truthful answer back. No passive aggressiveness ever either, No question was ever stupid in their eyes, genuinely. (There are too many teachers who say that exact quote and then give kids judgmental looks for asking things or being like 'well if you were paying attention to xyz')

Now, eventually your kid will ask you questions that might get under your skin or make you feel inferior because you feel like you don't know the answers. The trick is to be excited for them. That they are questioning the world and knowing things that interest them. (We don't get mad at a scientist for being smart in their expertise, those scientists were kids once!)

Like the other responses in this thread, by encouraging questions, I never felt like I was being interrogated when I made a bad choice (I personally didn't make many) because I could explain the reasoning behind it and talk about the reasoning why I chose that action, and what natural consequences might be waiting for me.

Another technique my parents employed was the voluntary 5 minute timeout. Anyone in my family at any moment when they felt upset or angry could announce that they needed a 5 minute break and then go get space to cool down.** (Yes even my parents did this at times, taking a 5 minute break) It was a respected thing, if you asked for space you got it. Sometimes the person would rejoin before the 5 minutes were up having cooled down, but after the 5 minutes people were allowed to check up on you and talk things through if things were wrong.

I can't tell you how useful it is to have an instant timeout button. It allows both parties the ability to recenter back to logic/reasoning if emotions run too high, and feel like you are never backed into a corner emotionally. You always have an out. You are praised/respected for understanding that your emotions might run high. Even with my anxiety I am not scared to ask for a break if I need it because it was modeled for me as a child.

Another one of my parents tricks: Using "I feel" statements. My mom pushed this especially, but the difference between 'you never do x!' (accusing, assuming things about the other person) and 'I feel like you never do x!' (communicating while showing your POV, gives the other person a chance to respond, overall less harsh) is a game changer. It focuses on empathizing with the person (letting them know your feelings and hopefully getting them to understand how you are seeing the world.)

*yes, all questions. I once asked my mom if 5 y/o me would have asked where baby's came from what she would tell me and she said she would literally did the 👉 👌 gesture with explanation of which sex had what body parts. I apparently never asked at that young though

**When I was really young, my parents would do the timeout thing as a 'hey, we see the rollercoaster of emotions is high, why don't you take a 5 minute break for space' and they would keep me in the same room but give me more space/or separate room with many checkups on me.

I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Finding Yourself - C.SC [Teaser]

🐢Who: Choi Seungcheol (Seventeen) x female reader 🐢What: 18+. Dark themes. Mafia au. Angst. Fluff. Suggestive. Slow burn. Mafia Boss Seungcheol. Single parent Seungcheol. Strangers to friends to lovers. Chan is reader’s little brother. Hansol is Seungcheol’s son. 🐢Total Fic Word Count: 50.3k. Teaser: 1.5k 🐢Estimated release date: 19th February 🐢General Warnings: Reader is referred to with a nickname throughout. Characters with autism/ADHD. Selective mutism. Gang typical content. Hospitalisation and medical stuff that will not be accurate. Mentions of past child abuse/abusive parents. Each part has more part-specific warnings. Teaser Warnings: Mention of suspected murder. Mentions of past child abuse/abusive parents. 🐢Summary: “In an attempt to protect your little brother, you run away from home and the gang your father forced you into as a teenager.

You truly thought you were done with that life. But months later, when members of the Centaurs gang find you and your brother squatting in their property mid gang-fight, they take you back to their headquarters and force you right back into it.

Suddenly, you find yourself living in the home of the leader of the oldest, most famous gang in the entire country, and you very quickly realise that he isn’t the ruthless monster everyone thinks he is.”

Minors do NOT interact, which means reblogging and/or commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio.

Masterlist Finding Yourself Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3

Disclaimer: Okay, so I feel like I need to point out that I do have both autism and ADHD, and I have done a lot of research around both during my own discovery/diagnosis periods; even now I’m constantly learning that more aspects of myself are very common in people with autism/ADHD so there is truth behind how the characters are portrayed in this fic. Yet, with that being said, both autism and ADHD are very vast in that you can have a room full of people with both disabilities and yet every single one of those people are incredibly different, which means that the characters in this story who have autism or ADHD are not accurate portrayals of every single person with either. There are 4 clearly stated autistic people in this fic throughout and they are each different personalities and how their disability affects them. So please don’t leave comments or send rude asks accusing me of misrepresentation or anything like that just because a character you’ve watched in a movie isn’t written the same as these characters, thanks.

A/N- I need to thank my beabie @ourdawnishotterthanourday for reading this monster of a fic for me and picking out the section for the teaser because I am absolutely hopeless at that kind of stuff. And also the endless support and beta-ing. Basically, JiJi, my love, you are invaluable to me.

It’s almost midnight when there’s a knock on the door and you look over from being curled protectively around your sleeping brother. Something about the knock is different to how Mingyu knocks, it’s firmer, yet still gentle in a strange contradiction that makes your stomach flitter with anxiety.

Silently, as to not disturb Chan, you get off the bed and walk to the door to open it just as the knocking starts up again.

On the other side is a man, who although you’ve never met before, you’ve seen his picture many times in files in your father’s office to be able to recognise his dark gaze and full lips.

Choi Seungcheol, the current leader of Choi’s Centaurs as of ten years ago when his father passed through means that have never been publicly verified. Many even think that Seungcheol himself had a hand in his father’s death just so that he could take over the gang sooner.

You don’t know enough of the man to have an opinion on that matter, but what you do know is that he makes an intimidating figure as he looms over you in riding leathers with his motorbike helmet still in one gloved hand at his side, whereas the other is bare and raised in a fist from knocking on the door.

“Pearl, I assume?” He greets, raising an eyebrow slightly in question while lowering his arm to hang at his side.

You don’t know if the dark look is intentional or not, but you do know the shadows under his eyes aren’t. He looks exhausted and you can’t imagine he’s very happy about having to come to you upon returning home instead of going to bed like he no doubt yearns to.

You nod in confirmation. “Your brother is asleep?” Another nod. “Alright, step out here so we can talk without waking him.”

Silently, you step into the hall when he moves aside, before you pull the door up almost entirely shut, yet cracked open enough that you can hear if Chan needs you.

“So, what I hear is that a couple of my guys found you in the warehouse where it seems as if you’ve been sleeping with your brother?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, good, you speak,” he places his helmet on the floor so that he can remove his glove and tuck it into his jacket pocket with the other before unzipping the protective jacket, showing a plain black t-shirt tucked into the waistband of his trousers. “You’re homeless?”

“Yes.”

“Any family to go to? I can’t send you back onto the streets with a kid.”

“Just like that?” You ask, looking at him puzzled. “You’re just sending us out again?”

“What do you expect me to do with you? I know you’re aware I don’t condone violence towards children, nor do I agree with leaving any kid in a position where they don’t have an adult to look after them. I’m not going to hurt your brother, and hurting you would hurt him too, so my only option is to send you off and hope you won’t try to cause me any trouble by saying shit about whatever you saw and heard at the warehouse.”

“And here.”

“What?”

“Your men brought me into your home; as far as I’m aware that’s pretty fucking unheard of.”

He nods slightly in confirmation. “This situation is unheard of, you’re right, Mingyu fucked up by bringing you into the manor when he could’ve left you in one of the empty houses in the outer wall, but I can’t blame him when he did it to make sure he knows you two will be safe and looked after. So tomorrow I’ll personally drive you to the closest family you have, so that I know you arrive safely.”

“No.”

“No?” He frowns at you in astonishment. “The fuck do you mean no? I don’t think you understand what’s going on here, sweetheart. I’m in charge and you’re under my roof, you’re alive because of my rules and you have no fucking place to say no to me.”

“I’ll say no to whoever I need to if it means protecting my brother.”

“I just said I’m not going to let anyone hurt him.”

“Sending us to family will mean him getting hurt.”

“Did you run away?” You nod in confirmation. “Because your parents hurt you?”

“I took him and ran because I knew it would only get worse for him now that… Look, I don’t give a fuck who you are or what you can do to me; I’m not letting you send my brother back there. I won’t do a thing that puts us back on their radar. So just take us back to the warehouse so I can grab the shit I had to leave behind and we can see the last of each other.”

Seungcheol stares at you consideringly for a long moment as his arms cross over his chest before he nods once in understanding and acceptance. “Alright, no family, but I’m not sending you back to the streets. There must be some kind of women’s and children’s refuge that would take you in.”

“Separately. I’m not his parent and as I’m not a kid myself, we’d get separated.”

“Then lie and say he’s your son.”

“I don’t like to lie.”

He scoffs a laugh. “You wouldn’t last a day in my world with that mindset, sweetheart.” You don’t answer and just stare at him silently, well aware of how wrong his assumption is. “Right, so not that. Well, and this is a once in a lifetime offer, but I’ll buy you a house, put it in your name, give you money to cover costs for a few months while you get on your feet, and we never cross paths again. You won’t owe me shit either; I have more money than I know what to do with anyway, I can afford to help someone in need.”

“If I use my name they will find us, Seungcheol,” you plainly state.

He blinks at you a few times dumbly before responding. “Oh, that’s my name.”

You can’t help but look at him in concern for his odd reaction. “Yes.”

“You seriously do know who I am. I didn’t even introduce myself.”

“You’re the head of the most famous gang in the country, of course I know who you are.”

“Mm, many might know me by name, not by face.”

“Mingyu told me the boss will be by to see me once he’s home; you are the only person who has knocked on the door other than him. And you said you’re in charge; I’m under your roof. It’s not hard to put two and two together,” comes your logical rationalisation, easily explaining how you didn’t fail to recognise him despite his lack of introduction.

He’s right in that most people may know his alias, yet have no idea what his first name is, even if they know his family name, or who the name belongs to if they passed him in the street without introduction.

“Huh, guess so. Just threw me hearing my name suddenly, especially as nobody actually calls me that.”

“I don’t like your alias,” you admit bluntly, and to your surprise, the man lets out a laugh. “What?”

“Nobody has ever said that to my face before. Wow, either you have the biggest balls I’ve ever seen, or you’re so sleep deprived that you’ve forgotten how to act.”

Once again, you don’t answer, just silently stare at him. You truly have no idea what category you fit under right now, if either.

“You’re an interesting one, Pearl,” he declares with amusement tilting the edge of his lips up ever so slightly. “Well, I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere with this tonight so we’re both going to go the fuck to bed and get some much-needed sleep, then we’ll talk again. And I’ll meet your brother; the guys say he’s adorable and shy, so I’m real curious about him.”

“Right,” you mutter in response, not sure what you’re expected to say right now.

“Alright, well, seeing as you’re not an idiot and know who I am and what you risk if you try to fuck me over, I won’t have anyone outside your room anymore and no-one will bother you until the morning when someone comes and gets you for breakfast.”

“Get us? Like, to join?”

“Yeah, we can talk over breakfast; I’ve got a busy day tomorrow and the sooner we sort this shit out, the better.”

“Right.”

“Go back to your brother and make sure you sleep too. You look like you’re about to pass out any second,” he says as he bends over momentarily to swoop up his helmet into his hold.

“Says you.”

Seungcheol snorts a laugh as he turns and walks off. “Definitely an interesting one.”

You watch him until he turns at the end of the hall and is out of sight before you go back into the bedroom and lock the door so that when you curl up under the covers with your brother, you feel safe enough to close your eyes and sleep in a soft bed for the first time in months.

Maybe today hasn’t been quite as unlucky as you initially thought.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @tusswrites, @svtiddiess

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hi there! Many apologies if I put my foot in my mouth here.

Do you have any rules for when to use BIPOC vs POC? I personally don’t like the term BIPOC for a number of reasons, most of which match the Newsweek article I link at the end, but since I’m nothing close to an expert, I wanted to check if you had an answer for what to do on that front. Possibly separately or possibly as part of the same question, do you have a preference as to which is used in your inbox? Happy to do either, even if the surge towards only ever using BIPOC makes me a little squeamish since I really struggle to find anyone championing it who doesn’t eventually turn out to be white when I look them up.

PS - I feel like I see both PoC and POC, but never BIPoC. Is there a reason for that, or are people just making inconsistent guesses at capitalization?

Newsweek article in question: https://www.newsweek.com/bipoc-isnt-doing-what-you-think-its-doing-opinion-1582494

I think it's really just a personal choice, fr. I have never cared for it, really 😅 I have better battles to fight (the proper use of 'NOUN of color'), and I get what they were trying to do, but... I tried and I just... I don't care for it.

It feels self serving to me. It's redundant and yet it sort of lumps Black and Indigenous folks together in a way that... It doesn't address that while we do have similarities and overlaps, we're not the same and shouldn't be dismissed so easily.

And also, "indigenous" doesn't necessarily mean 'Indigenous to the Americas', so without that added context to the conversation, you could be talking bout anywhere and those indigenous people could very well be white 😭 and if your point by then is "well I mean the ones of color" then by then you could have just said "people of color" already! 🤣 But that might be me overthinking it.

You could just refer to people by their names 😭 I'm not just an amorphous POC, I'm Black! So when you enter my inbox, say Black. No, don't refer to me as a POC/PoC or a BIPOC, you know what I am and what I've asked you to refer to me as. It's honestly incredibly insulting when I make posts specifically discussing Blackness and they get hit with the #poc #poc things. I do love my folk of color and will show solidarity ofc, but when I'm talking about Black people, I do mean Black people. And I'm pretty sure I can tell who's leaving those tags 😬

We're not all one lump solely defined by "not white"- when you know our identities, use them!

Sidebar, I also always misread it as "Bi and Indigenous people of color" 😭 Lmao you managed to accidentally hit on something I'm very passionate about but rarely speak on 😅

[lemotmo]

Ryan gave same answer to buddie question he is been giving from the moment bi buck was canon. He didn’t say in same words like Eddie is straight and buck Eddie are brothers but he did say the same in so many words like friendship between straight and queer characters is an important storyline and that’s priority than anything else

I always try to ignore interviews especially Ryan’s answers to buddie questions as what they think is not important and what the show is trying to show is important. But at this point I am not really sure if I should trust the show as Ryan is the one playing Eddie and his answer at this point of time is same and not even vague like let’s see where the script goes or I am ok with what ever the story takes. Just don’t know what to expect at this point

To be clear I am not saying Ryan is homophonic or anything, he seems like a kind person who treats everyone equally and with respect. But with all his answers in interviews, I get a feeling like he is not so much comfortable with playing a gay character (for what ever reason I don’t know and I don’t question or judge people choices as it doesn’t harm any real people).

If Eddie is still straight by 8.14 or 15, I don’t have much hope

Nonny, all do respect, but I have to ask this:

Why did you bring this to my blog? You must have seen my enthusiasm about Ryan's latest interview and how it has only strenghtened my conviction that Buddie is going canon. So why would you post this here when you already know what I'm going to tell you?

I also don't understand your reaction here. I've been in this fandom for years now and I've never been more confident that it's going canon than now. Before season 7 I never even thought Buddie would get a fighting chance.

What did you expect Ryan to say in this interview? 8b hasn't aired yet, so he can't disclose any of the upcoming storylines. He was always going to rehash some of his earlier answers from previous interviews, because what else could he possibly answer?

The inevitable Buddie question came and -once again- he had to find a way to answer it without spoiling anything. What could he possibly have said? He can't just come out and say that Buddie is going canon at this point, because it hasn't happened yet.

So he said the only thing he could say, the message that no matter who you are and who you love in life, it's important to support each other. Which is a beautiful message in itself.

He isn't saying anything else than Oliver did in his pre-biBuck days. It's the same 'trying to talk about it, but not allowed to say anything' kind of thing. 🤷‍♀️

And what about the question where Ryan was asked what advice he would give Eddie? His answer was so telling. It hinted at Eddie not being straight in such a profound way. That was basically the only thing he could say when it comes to Eddie's sexuality storyline.

The man's hands were and are tied. They have been for a long time. And no, he isn't afraid to play a gay man. How do I know this? Because he has actually played a gay man before in another project. He also talked about, on multiple times, the fact that he would be all for Buddie if the story would go there. Those are not the words of a man who doesn't want to play a gay man.

If he really wouldn't want to play a gay man, he would just state it out loud. He would say something like 'Yeah, the Buddie thing is a really fun thing. Oliver and me joke about it, but it isn't going to happen. Eddie is very straight and he will never be interested in Buck like that.' BAM! Just like that he would make it clear to everyone that he isn't willing to play that part and it isn't happening.

Now, if you want an example of an interview by someone who really doesn't want to play a gay character, but had no other choice because it was the only job he could get? Look no further and Google one of Lou Fjr's unhinged interviews where he talks about how he doesn't think it's always appropriate for two characters to make out on screen, but that rule only seems to apply to male/male relationships. He never seemed to have any issues with making out with women on screen before. 🙄

But anyway, let's not get distracted here by talking about that man and let's get back onto the subject of Ryan's interview.

I know that I probably won't be able to change your mind on this Nonny and I'm not even going to attempt it, because in all honesty? I'm tired of all the nay-saying and the inevitable spiral of fear that happens every single time when something happens in this fandom.

I don't know what you want? I've been in so many fandoms, shipping ships that NEVER became canon even though they should have. There was always subtext of course, but that's where it ended. The rest of the story we (the fandom) had to build up from scratch.

For Buddie though--

This isn't just about subtext anymore Nonny. This is fullblown TEXT! It's all there in the show, in the PR, in the interviews, in social media, in Family Fued and Jeopardy! What more could you possibly want?

If you don't believe it by now? There is nothing I can say or do to convince you, so you will just have to wait and see as the episodes air.

Tell you what though--

I predict that we will find out about Eddie's sexuality sometime before or at the very last in episode 8x15. Bold statement, I know. But I feel very confident about this. Oh and Buck? I'm willing to bet that all of his spiraling will finally lead to him realising he is in love with Eddie and this will be shown to us even sooner than Eddie's coming out.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Now excuse me while I go bask in the glory of the impending promise that is Buddie canon. 😏

[jedi-bird]

So, I have lived in a house where we had to hide any evidence that we lived there, a house where we hid certain things, and a house currently where I value functionality over looks. Guess which one makes me happiest and actually makes my life easier?

I also used to be a custodian (fancy word for janitor but also meant I did a lot more than clean) at a very big theme park, and the rules there were basically "people cannot know we clean". And honestly, that one I agreed with. People are stupid at theme parks. They seem to forget common sense a lot and are only focused on fun and do the weirdest shit, so cleaning up around them always made me feel like a ninja who was challenged with being faster than they were.

Trash cans were hidden in plain sight. They were enclosed in decorative cases but were also placed so you never really had to go more than 20 to 30 feet to find one. And recycling cans were always next to them. We wiped them down constantly and should swap them out occasionally to fully scrub them out (the liners were switched out much more often and fully scrubbed and cleaned). The recycling was sorted out in the back by us, wearing puncture proof gloves up to our elbows, long plastic aprons, and face shields. I laugh every time Hell's Kitchen uses recycling day as a punishment because that was a daily chore for me and I loved it. And yes, half our recycling wasn't meant to go in those cans which is why we had to do it.

Cleaning supplies are kept behind the scenes away from the public. We would bring out what we needed as needed except for heavy equipment or things with cords unless an area was closed off. Why? Because the number of times I would be trying to clean things like vomit of the floors, while other workers were blocking it off, only to have people come barging in to stand right in the mess to ask me (the one wearing multiple gloves and wiping up what was essentially a biohazard) to take their picture. Yeah. I didn't get paid enough for that.

Restrooms were cleaned in plain sight without closing them, so you learned to just quietly fit in and not make eye contact (unless you felt like a showdown, which honestly was fun with certain people). You learned to dart quickly when a stall opened and block it off with the cart. You learned to have eyes in the back of your head so that you could stop people from picking things up off your cart. We were taught the safest ways to mop (one hand always on the top of the handle as a cap, because it was better to punch someone accidentally then to jam a wooden stake in their eye).

Most people never noticed us unless we stopped doing our jobs. So please thank you janitors because you'd be miserable without them.

That being said, at home I operate very differently. There is a small trash can in every room. Sometimes two. Each one of open and next to where my partner works or sits (I keep one next to me when I craft a well but that one moves around a bit). I wish I had room for a bigger one in the bathroom, but I don't so I just have to change it more often.

Cleaning supplies get stored by use. Daily items like paper towels, sanitizing wipes, and other frequently used items (depends on the room) are kept close at hand. In the bathroom, that's on a narrow shelf along the wall; kitchen is between the stove and the table in front of a cabinet; living room next to the front door. Supplies for deep cleaning are kept slightly out of sight. Not because I don't want people to know we live here but for safety reasons. Being raised by my grandparents, I'm very big on keeping walkways clear and surfaces to steady yourself with. So those are organized into carrying baskets by type of clean up and kept in the upstairs cabinet for the upstairs and on a shelf at the back of the kitchen for downstairs. Brooms and mops are hung on hooks from the walls behind the back door downstairs and in the cabinet upstairs (yes, I have double the supplies, because I'm more likely to clean if I don't have to keep going back and forth for things). There is a recycling can on each floor because it's easier and I refuse to sort trash here.

There is a sort of table near the front door for partner's things because they need them to be visible, and all their snacks and frequently used items are organized by use in open shelving. Our house in messy and that's okay; I'm in the process of making it an organized mess that we both can live with. But yeah, you know we live here and keep it functional. It's not revolutionary to keep trash cans in the open or bowls on tables for keys or tables by doors. It's just one person's version of normal and helpful. Honesty, just play around with storage ideas and see what works best for you in terms of use and happiness (and don't think you need to spend a lot of money, most of my things are repurposed in the beginning while I test things and sometimes never change).

On one hand, it's great to see people learn how to unfuck their living spaces. On the other hand, that stuff like "frequently used articles should be stored near where they're used" and "trash receptacles should be placed near activities that generate trash" are being received as radical ideas points to a serious knowledge transmission problem.

[iphigeniacomplex]

I have long been interested in the resonances between the Nakba and the Maafa – this is the Swahili word chosen for what is otherwise dubbed the “Middle Passage” in the history of African enslavement in the Americas, in North America specifically in this case. Both terms translate to the same thing: disaster or catastrophe. Both are used for enormous dislocating experiences that go on to define ongoing lives of struggle. Whenever I hear “Nakba,” I think immediately Maafa. There is a need to insist on these terms in these languages because, as the argument goes, there is no way that the language of the colonizer – the language of the criminal who criminalizes us – can adequately express the experience of this crime,  a crime against humanity, our humanity, and a crime against history. The Nakba was a presence in the overwhelming majority of my interviews with Palestinian former prisoners (who might become prisoners anew at any time, we must add). I would begin by asking where they were from to find out who they are and how they began their lives in the revolutionary struggle. They would often narrate their histories in terms of origin in a now “far” place, followed by displacement around 1948. Each micro-autobiography was also a Nakba story, about families scattered and how people came to end up in Ramallah or Hebron from Haifa or Jaffa. It may be helpful as well then to think of the ongoing Nakba as part of a regime of captivity, and not only as dispossession and expulsion, as it is commonly discussed by other academic perspectives in particular. This is no dichotomy. A focus on captivity could nonetheless highlight Zionism’s ongoing attempts at controlling Palestinians, not to mention others, “here and there.” In the context of apartheid in South Africa or Jim Crow in the US, people often think the term “segregation” accurately identified what was going on. But this is misleading – there was never really “segregation” by any name in those cases. There was always a line that the colonizer could cross when he saw fit for purposes of economic or sexual exploitation or any other reason and that the colonized couldn’t cross without facing murderous violence. The “separations” of “Apartheid” are breached in and out of colonial interests, as a rule. Similarly, when we think of the Nakba it is very much about removing Palestinians from land as well as controlling and containing them at whatever remove at the same time—in Gaza, in the West Bank, in the diaspora beyond. Look at the assassination of the escaped prisoner Omar Zayed, who was newly captive in seeking refuge in the Palestinian embassy in Sofia, Bulgaria. Also, one former prisoner whom I interviewed in Majd El Kurum described that village as “a West Bank-style refugee camp” in ’48 Palestine. We could talk about how gentrification operates like this in Palestine and the U.S. with all its attendant policing and state violence. Like Malcolm X said, a long time ago now, this is very much about the power of control and containment in the bloody occupation of land, wherever you are or end up – all limiting terminology aside.

—Professor Greg Thomas for the Nakba Files, “Palestine in the Sun of the Black Radical Tradition”

[bears-sillybasement]

ohoho! soo uhmm BIG POST Y'ALL. I guess I'll pin this so everyone gets a basic idea of my oc?..I LOOOOVE explaining everything I have of him so far..SO AM AM AM AM I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY IT??? MAYBE???

This is Bernadette!

(with and without his half-hood!)

Although Bernadette is a mostly feminine name, He chose the name himself after losing most of his childhood memories in a traumatic event.

"Bernadette" was the only word he remembered when he regained consciousness, so now he uses it for himself.

It's the only little thing from his past that he remembers with inexplicable affection.

About the hood..

This hood in the middle of his face is impossible to remove! This is because of a curse he received when putting it on.

Why? Well, it's a stolen hood. Most of the things Bernadette wears are stolen from ancient temples. All of them have an effect on him, but sadly for his desires none of them manages to actually kill him.

the facecards i made at 5am lol

It's actually weird to draw him looking straight ahead because he usually avoids looking at others, but I still made a version that way!

(I definitely didn't try very hard)

Basic (and unnecessary) information :3

Part of his design looks childish because he's a storyteller focused on children, his job is to look after and entertain most of them while their parents are busy!

Although he looks like someone chaotic or eccentric, actually has a love-hate relationship with attention. It's "fun" when others see him, but not for too long.

He likes people, as long as they don't get into his personal life. It's the same reason of why he has very, very few friends. He is very reserved with his stuff, in general. With everything.

For reasons he doesn't mention, he feels uncomfortable around small animals. He's afraid of hurting them.

he LOVES meat. except pork, he thinks it tastes like shit

Ironically, since he lives in Fontaine, he absolutely hates tea and calls it "just dirty water" (you all have the right to kill him)

but absolutely loves latte. extra sweet.

He was NOT BORN in Fontaine. His origins are something he doesn't like to talk about and barely remembers, but he lived his teenager days in the Sumeru desert

he's 20 years old now! (I should have put this sooner but I'm too lazy to fix it now lol)

Signature weapon

another stolen thing! haha, ha..never remind him of his half criminal days...

Even though its main function is as an axe, the tongue that sticks out of it is sticky..and can stretch out to help him move around, grab things (or others...)

Skills!

Right here it's my duty to thank all the mutuals who offered their OCs (blindly) for this!

I hope they like it :3

@cheeomi (thanks for ur oc!)

(Bernadette often lies to children saying that he eats the souls of those who the bear swallowed... he just likes to be dramatic.)

Something that needs to be made clear is that the bear is NOT ALIVE. It's an empty real skin coat, but a spirit lives inside.

One he knows very well..

inside the bear there's just a very strange emptiness, you're just trapped inside floating in a warm space. (so kohaku is fine, yei)

Although if you're an exorcist or someone sensitive to paranormal things, it may be a bit akward..

@scarameownya (thanks for ur oc!)

magic cape!!!!! another stolen thing!!!!

...But hey, if nobody caught you then it's yours, right?

This cape is quite peculiar, it can take you anywhere you want! real or not. although if you enter on your own it can take you to places in your mind that you don't want to see..

That's why you should not enter without permission or company!! Always ask its great, cool AND pretty owner!

Bernadette just uses it to move around places quickly. (Or hiding)

@chenyuvale (thanks for ur oc!)

Taking away the normal function of an axe, as I said, the tongue does its own thing! you can use it to move BUT it also can be used to leave people trapped.

For some reason the tongue drools..it's pretty gross when it gets stuck to the walls of the fontaine buildings!

But well um, Bernadette it's not going to clean that up.

@sylviegirly (thanks for ur oc!)

another way to get around! As you will notice, he doesn't usually walk much using his own feet..

Since what's inside the bear is a spirit, his ways of taking over the body are actually quite varied, and Bernadette uses them to his advantage...With his permission, of course!! (Just sometimes)

.

.

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OOOFFF OKAY THAT'S ALL! for now..I hope it wasn't too much, I always wanted to do this kind of thing TvT It's not THAT bad

I'm SUPER sure I just typed something horribly wrong but...I really want to..sleep..haha..ha..

[axetivev]

🌹 Love of My Life...

~ Summary : Jason and Y/N have been dating for 3 years. Others might say it's rushed. But Jason has other plans on their date other than being a simple "Valentine's".

~ Warnings/Genre : Fluff! (No spoilers for you~!)

~ Words : 749

~ A/N : This is the first fic for the Valentine's special! I forget if I've mentioned it. But hey, Jason fans—nations. Enjoy this fic!! And also. Happy Valentines day!!

~ Pairing : Jason Todd x Male!Reader.

Y/N, a male who was known to be outgoing, maybe a little now and then he absolutely despise talking with people and easily anxious. But hey, he’s still a great guy! Unlike his… boyfriend, his boyfriend of 3 years. Jason Todd who never enjoy talking with people, it irritats him if someone looked at him—his old visible wounds showing thanks to his traumatizing past. The way people would look at him with pity annoys the living hell out of him.

But Y/N isn’t that type, he was rather understanding. He wouldn’t and never forced Jason to do something he hates. And Jason knew that everything was alright if Y/N was around, and he would hold his hand like he was a fragile being, loving Y/N with everything he has. Don’t forget to mention the fact that Jason loved to spoil his lover.

Y/N could just laying on bed, in Jason’s apartment. Scrolling through his phone to find a book. Marking it as favorite and the next morning? Boom! The book was right in front of his house when he didn’t came to Jason’s place. He simply wanted to spoil him if he had the money.

Even one time, on Valentine’s day, Friday. The couple went to an arcade. Filled by endless machines of toys and some of the visitors gasping seeing Jason, the second adoptive child of Bruce Wayne who randomly came into an arcade with a red hoodie and army colored pants. While Y/N, his boyfriend, wearing a white shirt, gray pants and some accessories of course Jason brought for him. And their height difference is quite surprising side by side, but to those aside. Both men were having fun playing some games. Even getting two huge bear plushies, one with black hair with a streak of white while the other is just Y/N’s hair color. They’ll walk together around the mall while again, people looking at them. Jason held the teddies even after Y/N offered to carry them. This sight obviously made Y/N worried.

“I don’t want you to carry them… people might thought I’m a gold digger!” Y/N exclaimed with his voice barely a whisper. Looking at Jason who just smirked.

“Oh c’mon babe, out of everything you worried about that? You’re such an overthinker, my handsomely cute overthinker.” Jason teased, which made Y/N blushed, but before he could continue. Jason added. “How about dinner? It’s on me.”

At the end, they were eating in a fancy restaurant. Seriously! This man needs to stop, but who would? His family already told him to but it. It didn’t worked, never worked actually. He would literally use the whole universe’s money to spoil his boyfriend, honestly. He doesn’t care.

“Ah, babe… I have a surprise for you.” Jason broke the silence between them with a smirk, oh boy. Y/N could feel something could go wrong.

“And what would it be?” He asked, pausing cutting his steak mid-air, he raised an eyebrow with suspicion. But before a word came out, Jason pushed a small red box to the table. Y/N heart stopped for a split second.

With trembling hands, Y/N slowly opened the box, his face immediately flushed red. Not from embarrassment or his anxiety, he covered his face while the diamond on the ring shined brightly. Blinding his eyes from years of love.

“Y’know, people said Valentine’s day is a special day for love. So; would you marry me, Y/N L/N?” Jason proposed.

Y/N swallowed a lump of his throat, peaking between his fingers, he said a silent—yes. Thought Jason could hear it. Why not tease him?

“What’s that? C’mon darling. Say it louder~”

“You damn bastard… I said yes!!”

Well, since Jason booked the restaurant exclusively for them two, the staff from the distance cried while quietly clapping their hands, Jason rose from his seat. Placing his hand on the back of Y/N head, of course he hesitated for a moment, but soon stood up. Jason then captured his lips to a deep kiss, while his arm around the other male’s waist. Refusing to let go of the kiss. It felt… magical and intimate. Very, honestly. Even after the many moments they have kissed, But eventually, their lips parted, Jason rest his head against Y/N’s forehead, his face slightly flushed while Y/N is basically red as an tomato.

“I love you so much, Y/N Todd.”

“I…I love you too, Todd.”

And the night after the date? Is just filled by endless love making inside of Jason’s apartment.

[smilesrobotlover]

AO3

First|| <-prev Next-> (coming soon)

Chapter 14- The Ruined City

The silence was deafening as Kori, Sheik, and Rusl walked through the deserted city, with debris covering almost every inch of the ground. The buildings were big and made with some dark material that felt like stone, and right across from them was the biggest building in the city that had a bell at the very top staying still and silent. Kori was glued to his grandfather’s leg despite the man struggling to walk, but Rusl never complained, with his hand firmly hanging onto him. Sheik walked ahead, staring at the ruins in front of her, looking around her to make sure they weren’t being followed. Finally, Sheik stopped, staring at a spot between buildings before turning to the others.

“We’re blocked in,” she simply said, and Rusl frowned, holding Kori tighter.

“What do you mean?”

“Look at the space between those buildings there,” Sheik said, pointing to where she was staring. Kori and Rusl both walked to where she was standing, and Kori squinted his eyes, seeing a wall of glowing pink designs swirling up far above the tall buildings. Rusl huffed and shakily ran his hands through his hair.

“I see it now,” he muttered, “I guess we’re stuck here then—wherever ‘here’ is.”

“Where are we?” Kori finally asked, not quite understanding what the Twilight Realm was. Sheik and Rusl both glanced at each other, staying silent until his grandfather gestured for Sheik to answer.

“The Twilight Realm is another world parallel to ours,” she started to explain, “a place where it’s perpetual twilight.”

“Perpetual twilight?”

“There’s no night or day,” She answered. “Only twilight.”

Kori frowned, looking down at the ruined buildings scattered across the place. No night or day… how did people sleep?

“It explains why you’re not feeling well,” Sheik said to Rusl, who looked unusually pale. “Light dwellers don’t belong in the Twilight Realm.”

“What’s a light dweller?” Kori asked.

“It’s us. Those from Hyrule and Ordon and Labrynna.”

Kori frowned. “So light-dwellers get sick here… then… why do we feel fine?” Kori looked at Sheik, who never wavered despite Rusl getting worse and worse. “We’re light-dwellers too! I’m from Ordon, right?”

“You’re only half light-dweller,” Sheik simply explained. “You’re also half Twili, which makes traveling in the Twilight Realm no issue for you.”

Kori’s eyes widened, looking down at his blue hands. He was never a normal human like everyone else in Ordon—he knew that, and he knew that he was a Twilian. But he never truly understood what it meant. Him being able to hide in shadows and walk freely in this strange realm… was it because of his Twili counterpart? And if they were in this Twilight Realm that matched his Twili blood, did that mean his mommy was here?

“So what about you?” Rusl asked, staring at Sheik with his brows furrowed. “Why do you feel fine?”

Sheik stared at him for a moment, her hands fidgeting with each other as she clearly struggled to say something. Rusl stepped closer, a more concerned look in his eyes as he tilted his head.

“Are you… are you Zelda?”

Sheik looked down, hiding her hand, but Rusl didn’t let up.

“I’ve only seen one person in my life that used the light arrows,” he said, and Sheik finally gave him a defeated look, pulling down her mask to reveal her face. Rusl’s eyes widened, though he didn’t look too surprised.

“Well that explains a lot,” he muttered, turning to Kori who kept looking between them.

“What’s going on?” He asked, and Rusl gestured to Sheik with his head.

“Sheik has a triforce piece, which is why she’s not sick,” Rusl simply explained, but it didn’t clear anything up for Kori. His grandpa looked around the ruined buildings, letting out a deep breath and blinking a couple of times. “So what do we do?”

Sheik stared at him for a moment, almost looking uneasy, but she finally turned her head to look around at the city as well. “I don’t know. The barrier is trapping us within.”

“Well, sounds like we have to fight the beast to try to get out,” Rusl suggested, but Sheik shook her head.

“You can barely stand right now, Rusl. We are not prepared for a fight.”

“What about your light arrows?” Rusl argued. “They sure packed a punch before.”

Sheik looked down at her hands, rubbing her right one. “No, I can’t use them. Not here.”

Rusl’s face fell and he looked down at the ground with a defeated expression on his face. “So… what can we do?”

Sheik looked back up at him, a sad expression on her face. “I don’t know.”

The two stared at each other for a moment, an uncomfortable silence falling between them, until a distant roar was heard behind them. Kori gasped and ran to his grandpa, who weakly grabbed onto him.

“We need to go,” Sheik hissed, pushing Rusl and Kori to follow her. The three ran as silently as they could, the sounds of the beast getting closer to them. As they ran, Kori’s foot stepped on a sharp rock and he fell to the ground with a cry. Rusl wasted no time running back to him, gathering him into his arms and running to where Sheik hid, which was behind a ruined building. Kori felt his grandpa stumble behind the wall, falling to the ground as he breathed heavily. His grandfather was a strong man, but his strength was clearly dwindling.

“Stay quiet,” Sheik whispered, peeking past the wall, her gray eyes transfixed on something. Though it was faint, Kori could clearly make out the sounds of the twilight beast moving through the city, searching for them.

Rusl’s heart was racing, with it pounding against both their chests, and his grandpa hugged him close. He was shaking terribly, his grip growing more and more weak as the seconds passed, each one feeling like a minute. It grew uncomfortably quiet save for the sounds of the beast and Kori’s breathing, and he had to cover his mouth when he felt like he was making too much noise. Sheik tensed, reaching her belt with a more intense look in her eyes, but a sound of a rock being thrown at a wall broke the silence, and Kori heard the twilight beast begin to move. Looking up at Sheik, Kori noticed that she relaxed slightly, hiding fully behind the wall again with a soft sigh of relief.

“Pst.”

The group tensed up again, all looking at a hole in the ground where two red eyes watched, a black hand gesturing for them to follow.

“Hurry light-dwellers,” the voice hissed, the gesture becoming more frantic. Sheik glanced at Rusl and Kori before cautiously moving to the hole. Rusl strained to stand with Kori in his arms, but he was able to drag himself behind Sheik, his hold on Kori sagging. The three made it to the hole, with Rusl allowing Sheik to go down first, then Kori, then him. As soon as Kori hit the ground, he was greeted with cold soft dirt that felt good on his aching foot, but the relief went away when he saw the strange men helping them. They were tall creatures with blue skin and burning eyes, black markings decorating their body and glowing symbols on their chests. One was big and round, dwarfing Rusl as he helped him down the hole, and the other was tall and skinny, his red eyes watching Kori.

“I don’t think it noticed us,” the round man said, looking at the tall one, “let’s move before they pass out.”

The tall one finally looked away from Kori, and the little twilian hugged his grandpa’s legs in fear, not ever seeing anything like these men. The two led them through a tunnel, the light almost completely gone which caused Rusl and Sheik to run into the walls and stumble over rocks, though Kori was able to see relatively fine. It must’ve been a twili thing. Finally, light appeared at the end of the tunnel, giving Kori some hope that they were reaching a safe place, but Rusl suddenly collapsed, his body crumbling against the wall and ground.

“Grandpa!” Kori cried, rushing to his grandfather’s side, who looked deathly pale.

“I… c..can’t…” Rusl whispered, his head lolling to the side. Kori was about to panic, but the round man stood over him, scooping up his unconscious grandfather.

“He’ll be fine. He's not the first light-dweller we found,” he said, continuing down the hall. “As soon as we reach the sol, he’ll wake up.”

Kori glanced up at Sheik, who was nudging Kori along. He was terrified, but he couldn’t be separated from Rusl, so he followed close to Sheik, his eyes on his grandfather’s dangling arm.

The group finally reached the lit-up room, and the strange men split up, one moving to another strange man who looked the same as them, while the other holding Rusl moved to a table that had a glowing orb resting on top of it. Rusl was set next to the orb, and a normal Hylian suddenly appeared, looking over his unconscious grandfather.

“What happened here?” He asked, his hand resting on Rusl’s shoulder.

“More light-dwellers. Just like you,” the round man explained, shifting the ball closer to Rusl. Kori simply watched, but Sheik took a step forward, staring at the Hylian man.

“I don’t believe it. Captain Hoz!” Sheik suddenly exclaimed, and the Hylian man spun around, looking at the two with wide eyes.

“Hey, I know you!” Kori said, recognizing the man from the woods. Hoz looked between Kori and Sheik, his eyes resting on Sheik for a minute longer before abruptly falling to the ground on one knee.

“Y-your Highness!” He stuttered, his head bowed. “You’re here!”

“I am. I’m relieved to see you safe, Hoz,” Sheik said. “You may stand.”

Hoz obeyed, raising his head and standing with an ashamed look on his face.

“You must forgive me, my queen. I have… failed to do what you asked of me.”

“Do not apologize, Hoz. It was a task I fear you were doomed to fail.”

The round man walked up to the group, looking between each person. “It seems you know them, Hoz?”

“I do. This is Queen Zelda,” he introduced, and the man gave Sheik a look.

“You’re the queen of the light-dwellers?”

Sheik shook her head. “Not all light-dwellers. But I am the queen of Hyrule.”

The man’s eyes squinted. “Hyrule. I see…” his gaze suddenly landed on Kori, the bright eyes rounding as he stared.

“That there is a little boy I met when I first met the twilight beast,” Hoz explained. “Er… I don’t remember his name.”

“It’s Kori,” Sheik muttered, and Hoz nodded.

“Right, Kori…this here is Nerc.” The round man bowed his head and Hoz pointed to the slimmer man. “That is Turk. They're nice, don’t worry.” Hoz said, patting Kori’s head as if to reassure him. It helped a little. “I’m really happy to see you, my queen. But I wasn’t expecting either of you to be here.”

“Safe to say I wasn’t expecting to see you here alive,” Sheik replied, and Hoz let out a chuckle.

“It’s a long story.”

“As it is for us.”

The group looked over at a taller strange man, one who towered over everyone in the room. His dark red hair was covered in a brown cloth that draped over his arms, and everything but his loins were bare. He was skinny, and he had glowing markings on his arms, chest, and nose, and his orange eyes watched the group with an unknowing expression. Kori felt himself cower away, a strange, raw fear beginning to overtake him. He found himself grabbing onto Sheik despite not knowing her well, hiding behind her leg as he watched the terrifying man. The man stared at him for a moment, and when Kori felt like he was about to cry, a small boy poked out from behind the man’s leg. Though he looked the same as the tall, scary man, there was a friendly look in his big, gold eyes as they watched Kori curiously. Kori tilted his head at him, and the boy tilted his head back.

“Light-dwellers, we are Twili,” the tall man announced, and Kori’s gaze traveled to him once again in shock. They were Twili? Creatures that roamed the Twilight Realm same as his mommy? They weren’t strange monsters, they were him.

But why did they look so different from Kori and his mommy?

“Zelda, was it?” The tall Twili turned to Sheik, his hand on his chest. “You’re the queen of the light realm, I pray that you will hear our tale and aid us in this dreadful time. My name is Vand, and I am the governor of this city.”

Sheik stared for a moment before bowing low, her knees bending and her head hanging. Vand bowed back before standing up straight, with Sheik following.

“Tell me everything,” she said, and Vand nodded, leading the group over to the table where Rusl was beginning to stir. Kori’s grandfather opened his eyes, and Vand leaned over him with his hand resting on his head.

“Do not panic, light-dweller. You’re safe,” he reassured, and Rusl sat up straight, looking confused.

“Where am I?” He asked, his words slurring slightly, and his eyes landed on Kori. “Kori—”

“Sit down, Rusl,” Sheik ordered, gesturing to a seat next to her, “we need to figure out what’s going on.”

Rusl gave Sheik a baffled look, but he obeyed, sliding off the table and immediately pulling Kori close to him. Kori didn’t fight back and felt relief being next to his grandpa, who was no longer sick. He still felt weak, but strength had clearly returned to Rusl. His grandpa sat down, pulling Kori onto his lap and he looked at the others, observing the new room they were in. Rusl’s eyes landed on the glowing orb on the table, and he gave Vand a look.

“This is a sol,” Vand explained, “it’s best if you light-dwellers stay near it, lest you succumb to the twilight.”

Rusl nodded, his brows furrowed. “Ok…are you… a twili?”

“Yes.”

Rusl shifted in his seat, his hold on Kori tightening. “You’re uh… not what I expected you to look like.”

“I should say the same about you,” Vand replied, and Rusl let out an awkward laugh.

“Right…”

Sheik looked between the two for a moment before landing her gaze on Vand. “So what happened here?”

Vand nodded, lifting up the little boy from earlier onto his lap and staring at the table somberly. “You all know about Zant, correct? And the invasion he planned?”

The adults in the room nodded seriously, a heavy feeling appearing in the air.

“You see, he was a tyrant when he stole the throne from our queen. Those that accepted his reign were forced to invade the light realm as his soldiers, while those that denied him were turned into those dreadful shadow beasts.” Vand shuddered. “I don’t wish that transformation on anyone. Living creatures are not built to consume that pure darkness. I was one of the last leaders to turn into one, but the transformation suddenly stopped when the queen and a light-dweller appeared to stop Zant.

“There were hundreds of shadow beasts roaming the twilight realm. They were used to make us obey Zant’s every command. But when the queen and light-dweller came to stop Zant, they were all defeated, put out of their misery. And yet… one somehow escaped.”

Rusl tensed, his heart beating harshly against Kori’s ears.

“We lived in ignorance, believing that peace had finally found us after the terror of Zant’s reign. But little did we know that the lost shadow beast was only beginning its attack. In a big city, it’s not uncommon for me to walk by an unfortunate, homeless Twili that’d be there one day, and then gone the next. It wasn’t uncommon for someone who did very little for his city to suddenly disappear without a trace. But when the disappearances grew, when fathers, brothers, and sons began vanishing, we knew something was wrong.” Vand paused, his expression growing dark. “I—I thought nothing of it. Twili would disappear everyday, but it didn’t mean anything. How could this be any different? But oh… it was, and I fear that my hesitation caused everything to get as bad as it did.

“Soon men of my council vanished, and I finally sent the soldiers to find out what was causing these disappearances. And that was when the mutated shadow beast revealed itself. After years of surviving in the twilight realm without anyone knowing, it grew far too powerful for the soldiers. I sent a messenger to alert the queen, but that was when it raised the barrier, locking us in. For days we desperately tried to fight back, but we could not overpower it, for it had the element of surprise. We were weak, disorganized, and after it destroyed every building, took hundreds of Twili, I decided to retreat with the survivors. This is… all that is left of the city.” Vand gestured to the few Twili in the room, and Sheik looked down, her brows furrowed.

“How long have you been like this?” She asked, and Vand shook his head.

“I don’t know. A year? Maybe more. The power of the beast came so suddenly.”

“How did the twilight beast become so powerful?” Rusl asked.

“It’s stealing life force,” Sheik answered, and everyone looked at her. “The light spirits told me that it steals force. That’s why it’s so powerful.”

“So it’s been slowly stealing force from Twili,” Rusl commented.

“Then it grew powerful enough to create a barrier and teleport between worlds,” Hoz added. “You know that big building in the middle of the city? That’s where it’s hiding its prey.”

“The missing people?” Sheik asked, and Hoz nodded.

“Yes. All of them, unconscious and barely clinging to life in this darker world. I saw them when the beast took me and my men here. I… I am a coward—I left them behind to escape.” Hoz’s head bowed slightly, shame apparent on his face.

“They’re not dead yet, Hoz,” Sheik said, resting a hand on his. “Sometimes we need to retreat and make a plan. There’s no shame in that.”

Hoz nodded, but he didn’t look convinced.

“The best way we can save those taken by the twilight beast is to escape the city and alert the queen,” Vand said. “But to break through the barrier is… impossible.”

Rusl hummed and turned to Sheik. “You have the light arrows. I’m sure those can break the barrier.”

Sheik sighed and shook her head. “I told you Rusl. I…I can’t use the light arrows.”

“But why?”

Sheik shook her head again, her left hand rubbing her right one. “I can’t. The twilight realm hinders my light magic.”

Rusl slumped, his hand mindlessly fiddling with Kori’s ear.

“Well, what about the sol?” Hoz suggested. “Will that give you enough light magic to pierce the barrier?”

Sheik paused for a moment, her face contemplating the idea. “Perhaps it could…”

“If you can break the barrier, my queen, it would save the rest of the city,” Vand said enthusiastically, shifting his son in his arms. “I know I am the last person who should ask you of this—none of this would’ve happened if not for my negligence—but I beg of you to help us.”

Sheik nodded, eyeing the sol. “I don’t know if it’ll work, but if it does, then we’ll have hope in escaping.”

Vand nodded his head, a smile on his thin face. “Thank you, my queen.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. If you will kindly give me time to figure it out, I’ll let you know once I feel the light magic.”

“Of course. The sol is yours to hold if it helps.”

Sheik nodded again and stood up to grab the orb, her hand gently rubbing the design.

“Though, if I may ask you light-dwellers one question,” Vand spoke up, and Sheik gave him an inviting look. Vand’s head moved to where Kori and Rusl sat, his long and thin finger pointing directly at him. “What is she doing here with you?”

It grew silent, with Sheik glancing at Rusl and Kori in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”

“The twili girl. Why is she here with you?”

Kori sat up and looked at Rusl, who was watching Vand with his eyes narrowed.

“Are you talkin’ about Kori here?” He asked, and Vand nodded. Kori turned back to him, his head tilted.

“I’m not a girl,” he said, and Vand’s orange eyes widened slightly.

“You’re… not a female?”

Rusl shook his head. “Nope, Kori’s a little boy.”

Vand stared for a moment in shock, his orange eyes widening more and more. “So… the rumors were true?”

Kori and Rusl both gave each other confused looks, but his grandfather’s expression turned dark.

“What are you talkin’ about?” Rusl asked, and Vand shifted himself, his gaze turning to the table.

“Well… many years ago, our queen finally gave birth to an heir who would lead the Twilight Realm to prosperity. But… it was rumored that there was something wrong with the child.” Vand’s eyes travelled back to Kori, and he soon grew uncomfortable with the conversation. “They said she gave birth to a boy. And he wasn’t fully Twili. He was an abomination.”

Kori winced at the word, looking down at his own hands. Was Vand talking about him? He’s been called something like “abomination” so many times in his life now it wouldn’t surprise him if he was.

“Wait, wait wait wait,” Rusl started, adjusting Kori in his lap and facing Vand fully. “What do you mean? You’re makin’ it seem like it’s weird that the queen gave birth to a boy. Why should that matter?”

“There’s only one female Twili. She must give birth to a female Twili to carry on our race.”

Rusl stared for a long moment, glancing at Kori before glancing back up at Vand.

“Midna?” He finally said, his voice thick with shock. Vand nodded.

“I do not know how you light-dwellers know our queen, but I shouldn’t be surprised since you accompany the bastard child—”

“Don’t call him that!” Rusl snapped, wrapping his arms protectively around Kori. Vand’s eyes widened and he leaned back, and Sheik stood up to step in front of the Rusl.

“I apologize, Vand. Please continue your story,” she said, shooting Rusl a dirty look. Though his grandfather didn’t look regretful, and instead seemed furious. Kori was almost wanting to hide into the shadows, not wanting to hear anything anymore, not wanting to learn what “bastard” even meant—he just wanted to go home, free from this nightmare.

“No, I must apologize,” Vand said. “I did not mean to insult you. The thing is… the boy was the talk of the century, many rumors flying from city to city. I couldn’t believe them. But the rumors all ended when… it was rumored that the boy was murdered by the queen’s advisor.”

Rusl’s breath hitched and Kori’s blood ran cold.

“The rumors quickly died down, and I had forgotten about it but… seeing how a male Twili that looks like the queen herself is here… I see now that most of the rumors were true.” Vand stared at Kori, making him squirm under his gaze. “But the rumor that the boy prince died was a false one. He lives.”

Rusl slumped back, running a hand through his hair, and Kori looked back at him.

“Boy prince?” Kori repeated, wondering why Vand kept staring at him everytime he said it.

“Your mama’s a queen, Kori,” Rusl simply explained. “You’re a prince.”

Kori’s jaw dropped. A prince? There was no way that was true! If it was, he wouldn’t be living on a farm, he’d be living in a castle with a big bedroom and hundreds of toys just like Amber! But if his mommy’s a queen… then it would be true… yet he couldn’t bring himself to believe it. Even if he was, he wasn’t exactly the princely type. Amber felt very princessy when he first met her, with an air of politeness and maturity that was fit for a future leader. But not Kori.

“Well, if you’re all ready, I’d love to make a plan of escape,” Vand interrupted, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation, and he looked directly at Sheik.

“Please give me a moment to find the light arrows within me,” Sheik simply said, and Vand nodded.

“Of course. You and the others may sit over there if you need the rest,” he gestured to an area by a wall covered in cushions, and Rusl nodded, setting Kori down and walking towards the cushions. Though Kori couldn’t ignore the way he moved slowly, wavering slightly when he plopped himself down on the cushions. Hoz and Sheik followed, with Sheik sitting in between the two men.

“Let me know once you’re ready,” Vand said, and he finally walked to the rest of the Twili, with the young Twili boy still eyeing Kori. Sheik rubbed the sol again, her brows furrowed as she stared.

“Is it working?” Hoz asked, and she shrugged.

“I’m not sure.”

“It’s not helping me, I know that much,” Rusl complained, leaning against the wall and rubbing his face.

“Sol or no sol, you’re still a light dweller,” Hoz said, “we don’t belong here, and our bodies know it.”

“Perfect,” Rusl grumbled sarcastically. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to do much in this condition, Sheik.”

“Do not worry about it. You just need strength to escape. Do you have enough to do that?”

Rusl nodded. “I’ll definitely have enough to get Kori out.”

Sheik shook her head. “You need strength to get yourself out too.”

Rusl’s mouth twitched with an amused look in his eye, and he nodded. “Of course, your Highness.”

“We’ll make it out,” Hoz said encouragingly, “I’m sure those light arrows will do us good.”

“Oh they will. You should’ve seen them against the beast!” Rusl exclaimed. “It’s the reason why we were able to escape it in the first place!”

“So they must be our only hope,” Hoz muttered, but Sheik simply stared at Sol blankly, her pose stiff. Hoz gave her a look before glancing at Rusl. “Are you alright, my queen?”

Sheik sighed, her eyes closing. “I’m not… sure if I can summon the light arrows.”

Hoz’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? Is the sol not working?”

“N-no—I—” Sheik sighed, looking ashamed. “Fighting against the beast there was the first time I’ve used the light arrows since fighting Ganondorf. I don’t know how I did it then and… I don’t know if I can remember now. It just happened.”

Rusl gave Hoz a concerned look, but it quickly melted into a smile and he rested his hand on her shoulder. “It’s ok. You did it once recently, that means there’s hope.”

“Yes, let us know if you need anything to help, Zelda,” Hoz said. “Take your time if you need it.”

Sheik (or Zelda?) smiled, giving them a nod, and the adults chatted for a while before slowly falling asleep one by one. Rusl was out first, passing out and snoring after a few minutes of chatting, Sheik was next, with her slumped over the sol, and Hoz, despite being stubborn, fell asleep after Sheik, and soon Kori was left alone with his thoughts as he listened to his grandpa snore. He tried to fall asleep, and he did doze off a few times, but he couldn’t seem to find the rest he felt he needed. His mind was still reeling over everything that happened today, and so sleep was not coming easy to him. It didn’t help that he felt uneasy with the way the twili watched him; he couldn’t tell if they hated him or were amazed, but the way their strange eyes stared frightened him. They weren’t ever cruel towards him, but there was something about them that freaked him out, though he didn’t know what.

Though what bothered Kori the most was his own identity. He always knew he was a Twilian—half from his papa and half from his mommy—but he was now comprehending what that meant. Kori had always known about his Hylian counterpart (or moreso his light-dweller counterpart) but learning more about his Twili was… new for him. So new and so overwhelming. The only Twili he’s ever seen in his life were him and his mommy, yet these Twili looked completely different from the two of them—with smaller, glowing eyes that had no emotion behind them, gaunt faces, sharp teeth. They looked like…. Freaks….

The word echoed in his mind, the word that had been used to describe him so many times. The shrieks and cries of those that threw that word at him were heard, and here he was calling these men the same thing. He supposed he and the Twili were always doomed to be freaks.

Yet another thing poked at his mind; he was a prince. A prince of the Twilight Realm! What did that mean for him? Was he going to have to rule this world soon? Was he going to have to leave his home and family behind in Ordon?

The story of the prince filled Kori with a sense of dread as he replayed it through his mind. Vand said that the prince was killed… but if Kori was the prince, why was he alive? He didn’t think his mommy had another son, so what was the deal with the supposed dead prince? Kori’s thumb traced the long scar on his forearm, his brows furrowed as he observed the old thing. It was a scar he was so used to seeing, that it was never brought up for him. Some had questioned it, but he’d always tell them the same thing: he didn’t know where it came from. But with the story of the prince… did this scar come from the story?

“Um, hi.”

Kori flinched into his grandpa, looking up to see the Twili boy from before standing before him, a small smile on his face. The boy’s golden eyes were wide, almost nervous looking, but he was still smiling politely, with needle-like teeth standing out like bars against his mouth. Kori stared for a moment, but waved shyly.

“Hi.”

“Your name is Kori, right?”

Kori nodded.

“My name is Quacey.” He bowed his head slightly, and Kori copied him. “It’s nice to meet you!”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Kori muttered, feeling slightly less nervous. Quacey sat down next to him, his hands resting on his knees.

“My papa is wondering what the light-dwellers are doing,” he explained, facing Kori’s grandpa. “Are they… dead?”

Kori frowned. “No. They’re just sleeping.”

To make sure, Kori stared hard at his grandpa, whose shoulders and chest were moving with his breathing. Feeling slightly relieved, Kori turned back to Quacey, nodding.

“Yeah, they’re sleeping!”

Quacey nodded, looking slightly confused. “What is sleeping?”

Kori blinked. “What? You don’t know sleeping?”

“No.”

Kori frowned, figuring that Twili didn’t sleep like light-dwellers. He remembered his mommy never seeming to need sleep no matter how long she stayed awake.

“Well, sleeping is when you close your eyes and you lay down, and then you imagine fun stories in your head and then you’re asleep!”

Quacey nodded his head, though he still seemed confused.

“How long do you sleep?”

“However long night is.”

“What’s night?”

Kori blinked again. This kid didn’t seem to know anything.

“Night is when the sun goes down,” he explained.

“What is—“ Quacey stopped, his dark blue skin flushing purple.

“The sun?” Kori finished for him, and Quacey nodded. “The sun is… like the sol!” Kori pointed to the sol in Sheik’s lap, and Quacey nodded, more confidently. “The sun is in the sky though, and it’s super bright and makes the sky blue!”

Quacey gasped. “The sky can be blue?”

Kori nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! And there’s white fluffy clouds too! I always like to look at them and see shapes made out of them!”

“I like to do that too!” Quacey exclaimed. “We’d always do it on top of my house. I miss looking at the sky.”

Kori nodded, wondering how long Quacey had been stuck down here with the twilight beast on the loose.

“How old are you?” Quacey asked after a moment of silence.

“I’m ten!” He proclaimed proudly, and Quacey gasped.

“I’m ten too!”

“Really?”

“We’re the same age!” Quacey hopped up excitedly, making Kori giggle slightly. “Do you want to play?”

“Play what?” Kori asked.

Quacey pulled out a small, velvet bag out of nowhere and poured the contents all over the ground. There was a small rubber ball with about ten small pebbles sitting in a pile, and Kori tilted his head.

“You have to bounce the ball and grab as many pebbles before it hits the ground,” Quacey explained, demonstrating it for Kori. “You have to pick up the pebbles one at a time, you can’t scoop it all up.” The ball landed, just as Quacey was about to grab one. “Whatever you don’t pick up you have to drop. Do you want to play with me?”

Kori nodded, excited for a distraction. Quacey allowed Kori to try it out for a few turns, and then they started playing. They played ten rounds, and Kori had to pick up as many pebbles as he could without having to bounce the ball a lot of times. The round ended once he was able to pick up all the pebbles and then they’d start the next round. The goal was to have as little points as possible, which surprised Kori. Normally the more points he had, the better, but the points would go up with the ball having to be bounced, which was bad. The two played ten rounds, with Quacey winning. And then they played again. And again and again, with Kori improving more and more as they played. It was very fun and satisfying as Kori picked up as many pebbles as possible, with Quacey cheering when they were all picked up. It felt like a few minutes of them playing, but it must’ve been a couple of hours when the others began to stir, with Sheik standing on her feet and marching to Vand.

“I can summon the light arrows,” she simply said, holding the sol to her side. “We can escape.”

Vand stood, his eyes wide and intense. “O-of course. You’re ready to break the barrier?”

“If my light arrows will pierce through, then yes. Let me wake the others, we’ll need to make a plan.”

Vand nodded and Sheik marched up to Rusl and Hoz, kicking the two men awake as Kori and Quacey watched. Rusl flinched and jolted awake, looking around wildly while Hoz simply stretched, and the two looked at Sheik, who gave them a nod.

“Come, we’re going to plan an escape,” she said, and the two scrambled to their feet, with Rusl giving Kori a look before reaching Sheik. The two kids watched as the adults huddled together, and Quacey gave Kori a concerned look.

“Do you think we’re really gonna escape?” Quacey asked, and Kori frowned, nodding. The adults were clearly figuring something out—it was giving him some hope.

“Every plan we’ve made has ended in failure,” Quacey suddenly said, a serious tone in his voice. He was watching the adults talking at the table, his hand clutching the ball. “Everytime more and more people got taken away… I never saw them again.”

Kori watched Quacey, feeling sorry for his new friend. He wondered if Quacey had other friends in the city, or other family that were taken by the monster. It was a horrific thought.

“Are you… really a prince, Kori?” Quacey suddenly asked, and Kori shrugged.

“I guess so? I didn’t know that my mommy was a queen, but I guess she is.”

Quacey nodded, looking down at the rubber ball and pebbles. Kori could tell he was no longer in a playing mood.

“Will she help us?” He finally asked after a moment of silence. Kori frowned, but nodded excitedly.

“I know my mommy will help!”

Quacey nodded again, but tears began to form in his eyes. Without thinking, Kori leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his new friend. Quacey cried quietly into his shoulder as Kori held him, rubbing his back and rocking him back and forth.

“We’re gonna be ok,” he reassured, humming a song his papa would always sing to him whenever he got scared. It seemed to relax Quacey, and the two stayed huddled as the adults began their plan for escape. Kori only hoped that they could escape and find his mommy.

[ilikekidsshows]

Saw some people talking about "maybe Adrien isn't a senti after all" because the ring doesn't produce the feather when broke, while the other part of the fandom trying to make a theory about why the amok not came out. Started from fake rings, the rings not broken at the same time (like in Crocoduel) and some other things.

and it reminded me back when the senti theory was still a hot debate in the fandom. Back then I asked a friend's who's a senti defender, "if you've never heard of senti theory, do you think you would think Adrien is a sentimonster from those hints?" because she keep yapping about this 'genius hidden hints' through the season and she admitted that no, she wouldn't even entertain the idea that Adrien is a sentimonster. Félix, maybe, but never Adrien.

This just make me realize how vague those hints were, Revelation is the only one that revealing that Adrien is a sentimonster. Even then it come from Félix' mouth, the character who's in almost every episode he's in been deceiving people left and right. How credible this information is? How does he know about all of this? Why tell Kagami and Marinette?

So fandom talking "Whats the meaning of this?" About that scene intrigue me because it is weird the amok doesn't came out after the item being broken since it's never happened before. What do you think about that scene? Is it possible that Adrien as senti is just a red herring?

---

I’d actually started considering that the crew knew SentiAdrien was a bad idea before they even went with it, which is why all the hints were so vague only a supporter of the theory would spot them, why they never said it word-for-word and why it was such a nothingburger as a “plot”. I figured they left it vague so that they could ignore it after they were done, or even deny/retcon/walk it back if they got too much backlash or just felt like it. So, like, there’s a few more convincing ideas going on that I've seen.

Adrien was never a Sentimonster; Félix was lying to make Marinette more sympathetic towards Sentimonsters because he figured she’d be easy to manipulate through Adrien. This also makes it so that Marinette (unbeknownst to herself) only lied half as much to Adrien as she thought, which is probably supposed to make her look better.

The world reboot made Adrien a real human boy, retroactively making Gabriel rebooting the world a good thing, justifying to the audience why the villain was allowed to win.

Adrien is still a Sentimonster but someone swapped out the Amok rings either during the episode or before it. People are claiming it’s Marinette to shield her from the criticism of her being so reckless with Adrien’s life, but also Félix, the writers’ favorite little plot device, and Lila have been suggested.

I’m gonna say it right now: if Lilerise McButterfly has Adrien’s Amoks, it’s Marinette’s fault, because she obviously knew about the Amoks because of that book of secrets Marinette let her keep in the London special. That’s what you get when your protagonist is only interested in protecting her own secrets, which will have made her reckless with Adrien’s safety twice over (and which is why I hope, hope, hope this isn't the case).

To be perfectly honest, the revelation that the writers are actually planning to milk this “mystery” some more makes me doubt their originality even further that I already did and I’ve been theorizing Astruc is a plagiarist for months.

[snandle]

I was just thinking about the Hanahaki disease trope but with House and Wilson.

Tw: slight blood mention. It also gets a little ooc.

If you don't know what Hanahaki disease is;

One person loves the other, but they believe it's unrequited, so they start coughing up flower petals until eventually they die. Optional: it's the person they loves favorite flower.

Cure: a surgery to remove the flowers that consequently makes you lose your romantic feelings. Or the person returns your feelings

And I was thinking about how that would work for them. It wouldn't. House is too smart and nosey not to figure out what's going on, and even if the roles were reversed, Wilson knows House too well to know when something is up. Sure House could lie, but no doubt he'd be coughing up bloody flowers in front of his team. So what is Wilson to do other than go to Cameron, who can't keep a secret to save her life

Now I wanna go down the "Wilson has the disease" route. It would start like this, House goes into Wilsons office to annoy him or ask for a consultation. Fun fact they're canonical office neighbors. So lets pretend that Wilson has his door locked because he's literally coughing up flower petals. So House has to jump over the halfway they share on balconies to enter through the balcony door. And he sees Wilson bent over in his chair, can probably hear him coughing and it intrigues him. Because why in the world would his best friend be hunched over coughing his lungs out. He opens the door.

Wilson would obviously sit straight up, wiping his mouth as he hides the trashcan under his desk.

“Whats up”

“I should ask you. What were you doing” House asks as he makes his way over to the desk.

“I'm just a little under the weather. Nothing to worry about. Now what do you need,”

And so House ends up getting what he wanted. Except for an answer on why Wilson was coughing his lungs out. So while Wilson is out on lunch, he breaks into his office and looks under the desk to find the trashcan with the bloody petals in them. He puts on a glove and takes one out, inspecting it closely with a look on his face. Maybe he would run tests but I doubt it, the man is smart enough to know what's going on.

So later when they're alone House looks at him and asks;

“So who is it?”

Wilson would give him a confused look, silently asking House to elaborate.

“You have Hanahaki, I found the petals in your trashcan”

House explains simply.

“You rummaged through my trash?”

Wilson asks, feeling betrayed and yet not surprised.

“Oh boo hoo If you didn't want me to you should have emptied your trash. Now who is it,”

House asks, crossing his arms.

“You wouldn't know them,”

Wilson says. House reaches in and pulls out one of the blood stained petals, twirling it in his hands.

“Aconitum noveboracense. Also known as Monkshood. Also Also known as Wolfsbane. In flower language it signals Caution and Death,”

House says, looking at the petal before looking at Wilson.

“You speak flower now,”

He asks sarcastically and in disbelief.

“Its also my favorite flower. I read up on Hanhaiki Disease. You cough up the person's favorite flower.”

House says.

“Its a pretty purple flower, lots of people like it,”

Wilson says with a roll of his eyes, coughing up more petals.

“Yes. But Hanhaiki is treatable. You haven't gotten the surgery. I know you, you love saving dying kids too much to die by flower unless you had to face the cause of your Hanhaiki. Ergo, you're close with this person. Ergo. It's me,”

House says, not even bothering to check if Wilson's OK.

“Fine. It's you. Happy? I have an undying love for my best friend,”

Wilson says sarcastically although they both know it's the truth.

“Hanhaiki has to be unrequited to present symptoms,”

House states. Wilson mentally goes over what House said. Looking at him cautiously.

“House what are you saying,”

He asks.

“I'm saying you're cured. You love a shitty person and they don't…. necessarily….don't *not* return those feelings,”

He says, clearing his throat as he looks away.

“House…are you trying to say….you love me back,”

Wilson asks slowly.

“I'm saying if we do this you're falling for the most shitty partner you can get and you know it,”

House states, averting his eyes downwards like he always does when he shows a shred of humility. When he stops being snarky and sarcastic and starts being serious for a moment.

“You're right. I do know that. And yet I'm still coughing up petals,”

Wilson says. House looks up at him, taking that fact into consideration as he slowly nods his head. Twirling his cane in his hand before setting it down.

“And you…actually want to do this,” he asks slowly.

“ That is usually what two people who love each other very much do when they confess their feelings to each other. Yes”

Wilson states with a roll of his eyes and a small smile.

[cloverapple]

Hi clover! just wanted to say you are one of my biggest motivators w shifting. I'm pretty new in this platform, but goodness y'all are awesome. from reading your and others' blogs, I've seen an immense shift (aha) in my mindset and beliefs. it's also caused me to have a talk with myself about my shifting journey.

with that, though, I found myself realizing this...thought. I was going to make my own post about it, but thought might as well ask for your opinion while I'm here. in my journal I wrote "I just got so obsessed with the idea I can leave my horrible life, I never fully believed in shifting itself." ever since I wrote that, it just clicked. don't get me wrong I believe in shifting (or else I wouldn't be here typing this), but not to such a full extent. now I'm a little stuck on how to move forward. I'm tired, but motivated. Filled with doubt, but bubbling with belief. I've been close, yet so far, and it feels like I've done everything to make myself shift. I know that I probably know everything I need to, but I still find myself scrolling here as if I'd find the answer that'll change everything. sorry if that was long hehe. but anyhow thank you for all your posts/advice/tips on here!!

hope you have a good day/night <3

The thing about belief in shifting that I’ve come to realize, the more I read other people’s stories and progress in my own journey, is that while the law of assumption is the force that drives everything, shifting itself is also a law. For example, you don’t need to believe in the law of assumption for it to be true or for it to apply—just like manifestation as a whole, shifting is always happening, whether you’re a shifter or not, whether you believe in it or not. That’s why even those who dismiss it as nonsense still shift.

Here’s a thought that might help: think of shifting as simply living, and living as you. Instead of focusing all your energy on putting faith into the act of shifting itself, believe in yourself. Trust yourself.

The crazy thing is, you don’t even need to trust yourself to shift, you just need to trust the process, trust the outcome, trust your journey, trust something. When you’re feeling lost, put your faith somewhere and dive in headfirst. It doesn’t matter where you go, you’ve already got everything you want—your DR, your desires and more. The way you choose to realize and remember that you’ve already got your desires is what will feel true to you.

I don’t know what that looks like for you, but what I do know is that you’re capable of shifting. You already know how to shift, and it’s always within your reach. You were destined for it the moment you began this journey. Reality shifting isn’t the kind of journey where you can just give up and turn around. All roads lead to shifting whether you like it or not. It starts the moment you choose to begin.

★ You said you probably already know everything? Awesome! Think of it like you’re taking a math exam. When you go in to take the exam, do you trust that you’ll score 100% on it? No, you trust your knowledge, you trust what you’re doing, even if there’s some doubt and tension as you’re jotting down the equations. And then what happens? Because you trusted yourself and went through with it despite having your doubts, you aced the test!

I hope this helps in some way ♡