#not explicitly visible but its There

[gorbongweedman]

[radiant--as-the--sun]

do people really just wanna be fans of the hunger games and not mention palestine at all? like honestly? do you really wanna just support fictional uprisings and fighting back against fictional oppression but don't actually give a shit about it in real life? did y'all genuinely learn and internalize nothing from this series????

[anistarrose]

The possible explanations for why the fuck Barry could've felt the need to open that scene with "are you afraid?" have been analyzed by this fandom for basically ever since the Red Robe identity reveal, and a lot of people have brought up good theories that I've adopted bits and pieces of from each. But one thing that I haven't actually seen proposed as a factor is this:

Talking to Tres Horny Boys through the facade of the faceless "Red Robe" might've just been Barry's backup plan. Plan A was, quite possibly, to sneak Junior's ichor out of Lucretia's private quarters, be able to actually inoculate THB, and actually have them recognize him. (A proper reunion, with no cryptic warnings. With no dancing around static — just Barry and Tres Horny Boys, actually trusting each other innately.)

Why do I think this is plausible? Let me clarify the timeline a little: at the start of the Petals arc, before THB leave the Bureau, all is normal with their soon to be ex-roommate Pringles/Robbie (Ep. 18). Upon return, THB are informed that at some point during their (overnight, so 24 hour-ish?) absence, Pringles was thrown in the brig (Ep. 28).

It's eventually revealed by Pringles and Barry, in The Suffering Game and Reunion Tour respectively, that Barry possessed Pringles to do "reconnaissance" on the Bureau, specifically on where to find the second Voidfish (ie, Lucretia's private office, which is where Pringles "woke up" and was "arrested summarily").

I will note that Barry describes this as just recon — implying information gathering, and not necessarily a Voidfish ichor heist. However, this was an explanation he gave through a recorded message in the coin, where he was likely choosing his words carefully to confuse THB the least amount possible. And moreover... I just find it hard to believe that Barry wouldn't let himself hope, leading up to and during this infiltration, that he could make it out with the ichor he so desperately needed.

After all, Barry may be Going Through It during the podcast, but he definitely knows that as much as he needs information, it's going to be a lot harder to pull off his eventual heist if Lucretia catches him in the act, and winds up knowing that he has that information. Barry also chose to make his infiltration attempt while the Bureau was distracted, monitoring the Gaia Sash — in a lot of ways, this might've seemed like not just his first chance at the ichor, but also his best chance at it.

Barry's both an incredibly determined and opportunistic, calculating guy. I don't think Barry would've left Pringles' body unless/until he was absolutely cornered; no hope left of getting out with the ichor this time. He wouldn't pass up a chance to restore his family's memories — because of his deep, deep emotional and practical stakes in restoring those memories, first and foremost — but he even feels kinda bad about possessing Pringles (calling it "unfortunate collateral damage"), and would certainly prefer for his unsavory tactics to be, you know, worth it.

So when Barry fails? When he comes away from his mission he's no doubt been planning for weeks, waiting intently and single-mindedly for his chance with the right Relic-based distraction — and it turns out he has information, but no ichor, to show for it? When he fails, Barry's left on the back foot.

He'd dared to hope it might turn out better than this. He'd dared to hope this might be a turning point, and the world might remain in danger, but at least he'd have his family back. He'd dared to hope he might be able to speak to them, in his right mind, with his memories, and be recognized for the first time in a decade.

So when none of that comes to fruition? When he knows his boys won't recognize him yet, no matter what he does? Yet he still needs them on his side? He still needs them to be prepared for the horrors coming?

Well, he just fucking improvises.

"Are you afraid?"

[lerios]

interrogator general leela: *exists evilly*

me:

[king-sassy08]

Gun Woo and Woo Jin from Bloodhounds to me are like Mako Mori and Raleigh Becket from Pacific Rim. Yeah they could be in love with each other. Yeah they could be close friends who love each other like siblings. Whatever it is, the point is that they love each other so much, they'd do anything for each other and nobody knows them like they know each other. However u want to see it, that's how it is because either way, there's love there and there's literally no way to deny it

[phagodyke]

actually ive been thinking abt this a lot lately like basically for years i assumed i was very (cis)het passing and only recently ive become aware that i am in fact. very obviously perhaps almost comically gay to other queer ppl. like lmaoooo ok then

[novanhistorian]

Every day I must act normal despite knowing how the contrast between Memphis’s and Sana’s views of authority all traces back to how they see the same quasi-omniscient system exploited and by whom.

[heritageposts]

From the Freedom Flotilla, April 27 2024:

On Thursday afternoon, the Freedom Flotilla Coalition was contacted by the Guinea Bissau International Ships Registry (GBISR), requesting an inspection of our lead ship – Akdenez. This was a highly unusual request as our ship had already passed all required inspections; nevertheless, we agreed. The inspector arrived on Thursday evening. On Friday afternoon, before the inspection was completed, the GBISR, in a blatantly political move, informed the Freedom Flotilla Coalition that it had withdrawn the Guinea Bissau flag from two of the Freedom Flotilla’s ships, one of which is our cargo ship, already loaded with over 5000 tons of life-saving aid for the Palestinians of Gaza. In its communication informing us of this cancelation, the GBISR made specific reference to our planned mission to Gaza. It also made several extraordinary requests for information, including confirmation of the ships’ destination, any potential additional port calls, and the discharge port for humanitarian aid and estimated arrival dates and times. It further demanded a formal letter explicitly approving the transportation of humanitarian aid and a complete manifest of the cargo. Again, this is a highly unusual move from a flagging authority. Normally, national flagging authorities concern themselves only with safety and related standards on vessels bearing their flag, and are not concerned with the destination, route, cargo manifests or the nature of a specific voyage. Just like when you register your car, the authorities don’t require you to detail to them every place you are going to go with the car. Sadly, Guinea-Bissau has allowed itself to become complicit in Israel’s deliberate starvation, illegal siege and genocide of Palestinians in Gaza. Israel is showing the world the extent to which it will go to deny Palestinians the aid they need to stay alive, in direct contravention of International Humanitarian Law, UN Security Council resolutions, and two orders of the International Court of Justice. [...] without a flag, we cannot sail. But, this is not the end. Israel cannot and will not crush our resolve to break its illegal siege and reach the people of Gaza. The people of Gaza and all of Palestine remain steadfast under the most horrific, unimaginable conditions. We take strength from their incredible, inexplicable ability to maintain their humanity, dignity and hope when the world has given them no reason to do so. It is our responsibility to keep that hope alive. WE WILL SAIL.

The Freedom Flotilla, which was set to depart from Turkey on the 27th of April with 5000 tons of life-saving aid, has now been delayed because Israel and the United States has pressured Guinea Bissau to withdraw its flag from the Flotilla's lead ship.

Seeing as how their tactics worked on Guinea Bissau, organizers now fear that Israel and the US will exert the same pressure on whichever country the Freedom Flotilla attempt to register their ship under next.

To help the Freedom Flotilla reach Gaza, please keep an eye out for further updates from the organizers. Right now, as of April 27th, they're asking people to help boost their visibility, and to donate to their member campaigns.

For more info, see their webpage.

[i-like-media]

I was wondering when they were going to play with the fact the Doctor is black now. 13 being faced with how people think of women was one of my favourite things in her era, so I was curious how they were going to treat his skin colour this season, if at all.

And honestly, Dot And Bubble exceeded all my expectations on the matter!

What a lot of episodes about racism and bigotry do is coddle the viewer. They make clear early on "this is an episode about RACISM and why it's WRONG!" As if you've never heard of the concept before and don't know it's bad. The episode will often portray racism in an extreme sense and show the viewer the main characters are above that.

What Dot And Bubble did, for the entire episode, was letting the viewer figure it out on their own. There was no coddling, only racism as it silently existed. A perfectly pastel and white community with not a single person of colour and the only visible outlier being a goth white kid. And in this world, the first thing the character we follow did, was to block a black guy with a face of disgust.

The title screen rolls and you're left to rationalise it. Surely it was because he was not in her contact list/saying all kinds of mind blowing stuff... Right? Except when Ruby enters her feed and talks about it, she actually replies back... With an eye roll, but she replies... and keeps talking... and listening.

The episode continues, still not a single POC besides the Doctor. They reveal this is an exclusive place for rich people, and eventually the character in question even admits she thought the Doctor was a different person because "I thought you looked the same".

What this episode also does well, is portraying a character we wish to see change and find a better life behind that change. We see Lindy struggle to navigate the world without her bubble, calling herself stupid, and we genuinely hope she DOES learn to be better, even as you slowly pick up on what's been going on sofar. You are left to hope she'll thank him and realise the error of her ways, and maybe find a new drive to think for herself.

And then she doesn't.

She stays in her bubble, doubling down on how she feels about the Doctor, how they're excited to be like their settler ancestors, and finally CLEARLY revealing to the viewers what's been off this whole time... and the scene asks: did YOU notice the signs? Did you see what went wrong along the way, or did you only notice just now when it's explicitly shown to you? And why do you think that is?

It challenges the perspective of the viewer and tells you to reflect on why you didn't see it coming, and that is so so powerful.

The Doctor's reaction to this scene..... 👌👌👌👌

His mouth is ajar, stunned beyond belief that after all he's done and all he can offer, the offer to literally save their lives, he is reduced to someone who's nothing more than the hue of his skin. He yells at them, telling them he doesn't care what they think of him because he's still the same doctor he's always been, and to still get rejected with a dirty look... Which hits extra hard when you remember how much the Doctor loves being himself. He LOVES being the Doctor again! And he walks with such a pep in his step, celebrating his existence and sharing it with all he meets... and then he tries to save some rich white kids from certain death.

His performance in that moment was literally phenomenal. It's a narrative that's so powerful and so creative in its execution, my jaw was still on the floor throughout the credits.

This episode is definitely up there as one of my favourites sofar

[prokopetz]

The dismissive attitude toward a certain stripe of "fandom discourse" is getting more and more irksome to be me because it completely – and, I suspect, wilfully – elides how transparently targeted a lot of this shit is. Sure, anonymously swanning into somebody's inbox like "it's pretty sus that you don't have a pinned post preemptively denouncing the hypothetical wrongdoing I imagine your mutuals might commit in the future" is ridiculous on its face, but pay close attention to who gets hit with the lion's share of this shit. It's a calculated harassment tactic aimed at specific visible minorities – mostly trans women this time around, though it's varied in the past – that explicitly relies on the absurdity of what it's proposing to escape serious criticism.

[writingwithcolor]

Non-offensive Historical terms for Black people in historical fiction

@pleasespellchimerical asked:

So writing historical fiction, with a white POV character. I'm not sure how to address race in the narration. I do have a Black main character, and I feel like it'd feel out of place to have the narrator refer to her as 'Black', that being a more modern term. Not sure how to do this without dipping into common historical terms that are considered racist today. Thoughts on how to handle this delicately, not pull readers out of the narrative? (fwiw, the POV character has a lot of respect for the Black character. The narration should show this)

There are non-offensive terms you can use, even in historical fiction. We can absolutely refer to Black people without slurs, and if slurs is all one can come up with, it’s time to go back to the drawing board. I cannot say which terms are best for your piece without knowing the time period, but hopefully the list below helps.

Historical terms to use for Black people (non-offensive)

African American documented as early as 1782 (documented in an ad in the Pennsylvania Journal). Note the identity isn’t accurate for non-American Black people.

African could refer to African people or “from 1722 as ‘of or pertaining to black Americans.’”

The place of origin could also be used. For example, “a Nigerian woman”

Africo-American documented as early as 1788.

People of Color documented as early as 1796 (with specific contexts, usually mixed people)

Afro American documented as early as 1817, 1831 (depending on source)

Black American documented as early as 1831 

Black was used in Old English to refer to dark-skinned people. Black was not capitalized until recent years, so “She was a young black woman.” would make sense to say, though “She was a young Black woman.” is the better standard today, although not universally adopted. I personally prefer it capitalized. 

Moor was used as early as the late 1400s for North African people, but had a somewhat flexible use where anyone visibly Black / Of African descent or the Afro Diaspora might be referred to or assumed as a Moor. Note, it has other meanings too, such as referring to Muslim people, but that doesn’t mean the person using it is going by the dictionary definition. Not really the way to go today, but okay in a historical setting (in my opinion).

Biracial (1860s), mixed race (1872), multiracial (1903) and multicultural (1940s) are also terms to refer to people of two or more races.

Occupation + description. Throughout history, many people have been referred to as their occupation. For example, the Carpenter, The Baker, the Blacksmith. Here’s an example of how you might go about using occupation and traits to identify a Black character in history. Here’s an example I came up with on the fly.

“You should go by Jerry’s. He’s the best blacksmith this town’s ever seen. Ya know, the real tall, dark-skinned, curly haired fellow. Family’s come here from Liberia.”

Offensive and less-sensitive terms for Black people 

Blacks was used in plural more, but this is generally offensive today (Even writing it gives me **Thee ick*)

Colored was mostly used post-civil war until the mid 20th century, when it became unacceptable. This is not to be conflated with the South African Coloured ethnic group.

Negro/Negroes were also used as early as the 1550s. Capitalization became common in the early 20th century. I'm sure you know it is offensive today, though, admittedly, was not generally seen as such until around the 1960s, when Black replaced it. It does have its contexts, such as the trope “The Magical Negro” but going around using the term or calling someone that today is a lot different. 

Mulatto referred to mixed people, generally Black and white, and is offensive today. 

The N-word, in all its forms, is explicitly a slur, and there is absolutely no need to use it, especially in a casual manner, in your story. We’ve written about handling the N-word and alluding to it “if need be” but there are other ways to show racism and tension without dropping the word willy-nilly.

Deciding what to use, a modern perspective

I’m in favor of authors relying on the less offensive, more acceptable terms. Particularly, authors outside of the race. Seldom use the offensive terms except from actual direct quotes.

You do not have to use those offensive terms or could at least avoid using them in excess. I know quite famous stories do, but that doesn’t mean we have to so eagerly go that route today. Honestly, from teachers to school, and fellow non-Black students, it’s the modern day glee that people seem to get when they “get a chance to say it” that makes it worse and also makes me not want to give people the chance. 

It goes back to historical accuracy only counting the most for an “authentic experience” when it means being able to use offensive terms or exclude BIPOC from stories. We’ve got to ask ourselves why we want to plaster certain words everywhere for the sake of accuracy when there are other just as accurate, acceptable words to use that hurt less people. 

Disclaimer: Opinions may vary on these matters. But just because someone from the group cosigns something by stating they’re not offended by it, doesn’t mean a whole lot of others are okay with it and their perspectives are now invalid! Also, of course, how one handles the use of these words as a Black person has a different connotation and freedom on how they use them.

~Mod Colette

The colonial context

Since no country was mentioned, I’m going to add a bit about the vocabulary surrounding Black people during slavery, especially in the Caribbean. Although, Colette adds, if your Black characters are slaves, this begs the question why we always gotta be slaves.

At the time, there were words used to describe people based on the percentage of Black blood they had. Those are words you may find during your searches but I advise you not to use them. As you will realize if you dive a bit into this system, it looks like a classifying table. At the time, people were trying to lighten their descent and those words were used for some as a sort of rank. Louisiana being French for a time, those expressions were also seen there until the end of the 19th century.

The fractions I use were the number of Black ancestors someone had to have to be called accordingly.

Short-list here :

½ : mûlatre or mulatto

¼ or ⅛ : quarteron or métis (depending on the island, I’m thinking about Saint-Domingue, Martinique and Guadeloupe)

1/16 : mamelouk

¾ : griffe or capre

⅞ : sacatra

In Saint-Domingue, it could go down to 1/64, where people were considered sang-mêlé (mixed blood for literal translation, but “HP and the Half-Blood Prince” is translated “HP et le Prince de Sang-Mêlé” in French, so I guess this is another translation possibility).

-Lydie

Use the 3rd person narrative to your advantage

If you are intent on illustrating historical changes in terminology consider something as simple as showing the contrast between using “black” for first person character narration, but “Black” for 3rd person narrator omniscient.

-Marika

Add a disclaimer

I liked how this was addressed in the new American Girl books it’s set in Harlem in the 1920’s and there’s a paragraph at the beginning that says “this book uses the common language of the time period and it’s not appropriate to use now”

-SK

More reading:

NYT: Use of ‘African-American’ Dates to Nation’s Early Days

The Etymology dictionary - great resource for historical fiction

Wikipedia: Person of Color

[r3starttt]

what if Abby’s gf was like, not very smart, and Abby would like be reading a book out loud to her and she doesn’t understand like 70% of the words she’s saying and she’s just sitting there like ☹️ but she just enjoys listening to abby so she lets her keep goinggg :(

BOOKWORM! ABBY

an: this is the cutest request ever ughhhhhh she's so pretty | taglist

You had spent the entire day absorbed in productivity, your mind and body tirelessly engaged in tasks, and visibly worn out. the strain evident in your fatigued and tired, red eyes, a reflection of the excessive hours of screen time and minimal sleep.

The house glowed warmly, bathed in hues of orange and yellowish light that softened every corner you passed through. Each step on the wooden floor echoed faintly, the sound mingling with the comforting ambiance.

"Abby?" you called out softly as you entered the kitchen, receiving a muffled "here" from the living room.

Hurrying over, you found Abby seated cross-legged on the well-worn couch, nestled comfortably under a thin blanket. Her glasses perched on her nose, the light reflecting on them covering her eyes very slightly as she glanced up at you with a sheepish smile.

First thing you noticed once you stepped closer was a novel in hand with its pages yellowed with age.

She adjusted the blanket, making room for you beside her. Nestling close, your back rested against her stomach while her hands pulled the blanket around both of you.

Abby planted a gentle kiss on your head near your forehead, and the room settled into a quiet peace, broken only by the rhythmic turning of pages and the soothing cadence of Abby's voice "...and he, in a state of somnolent contemplation, pondered the ephemeral nature of existence..." Her voice flowed smoothly, entrancing despite your struggle to comprehend.

You snuggled closer, finding solace in Abby's voice as she continued, "...before him lay such an ethereal landscape, undulating hills and verdant foliage stretching infinitely under the cerulean sky." you closed your eyes momentarily, allowing Abby's voice to wash over you, cherishing the moment.

You listened intently, occasionally furrowing your brow at unfamiliar words like "sepulchral," "tumultuous," and "effulgent". Abby, however, read with unwavering confidence, pronouncing each word accurately without pause or hesitation.

"What do you think that means?" you whispered, as Abby's finger hovered over the corner of the current page, preparing to turn to the next.

She hummed a few seconds, contemplating how to explain it. She understood it well herself, but she knew it might be challenging for you.

"Well," Abby began softly, "when it says 'in a state of somnolent contemplation,' it means the character was deep in thought, almost like they were half-asleep or... lost in their thoughts. And 'pondered the ephemeral nature of existence' means they were thinking about how life is temporary, like how things don't last forever."

She moved to the next page, but no words came out. A thought crossed her mind. She knew you well enough to sense when you weren't fully grasping something, even if you didn't explicitly admit it. So, she decided to summarize everything she'd read on herself and to you so far.

Feeling more at ease, you settled back into Abby's embrace, ready to continue listening to her soothing voice weave through every complex paragraph from the novel.

The room remained steeped in a peaceful silence, the serene warmth enveloping you both. Abby's voice, smooth and resonant, filled the space as she continued to read.

You listened intently, absorbing the richness of the language. Though some of the words made you innerly pause to reflect. "Then again, his existential quandary was exacerbated by the labyrinthine corridors of his subconscious..." They were beautiful words, but their meanings confused you.

Abby, however, read accurately without much pause or hesitation.

"You know," she said, setting the book aside for a moment, "you don't have to understand every word. I just love sharing this time with you."

A smile spread across your face, and you gently took one of her hands, pressing a soft kiss on her knuckles. "Yeah, I know. I love it too," you nodded, meeting her gaze before returning your attention to the book. "Plus, it's hot to see how smart you are."

Abby chuckled softly, a hint of playful disbelief in her voice. "Yeah?"

Your eyelids grew heavy, and Abby's hands grew numb from holding the book. You drifted off to sleep first, and Abby followed shortly after, pressing a gentle kiss on your scalp before finally closing her eyes.

[theriverbeyond]

it is soooooo interesting to compare the way the Fifth and Sixth engage with the necrocav dynamic because like, on first look (and especially compared to Everyone Else) they both seen so devoid of Issues and Problems and Violence. Contrast them with, like, the Third and Eighth houses, which are two of the most explicitly exploitative but also (IMO) the most honest necrocav relationships in the entire series -- they're (literally) exploitative, (literally) consumptive, (literally) violent, built on unquestioning devotion that demands blood. Pal and Cam and Abigail and Magnus seem almost idyllic in comparison, and YET!! their relationships are no less shaped by the Empire's cult of violent and required devotion, they are just less honest about it.

Like, the micro-level dynamic between Abigail and Magnus is as sweet and simple as they come, but there's no extricating their intimate relationship from the setting of violence in which that relationship is trapped in i.e. the cavalier as meat, the cavalier as a battery and the human body as something to be consumed and exploited.

And both Houses KNOW their relationships are built on violence. Both the Fifth (and Palamedes) seem visibly uncomfortable with the power dynamic inherent to the necrocav existance! Abigail and Magnus address this by attempting to perceive their dynamic as a marriage first and necrocav second, but their rejection of the necrocav framework is almost wholly aesthetic. They exist within and directly benefit from the bloody gears of the Empire without complaint, and even Abigail's critiques of the God/Empire seem to be purely academic in nature, more curious intrigue than any kind of genuine dissatisfaction with the status quo. And Magnus is by his own admission not a duelist nor any kind of fighter, but as a cavalier he takes up the sword, follows Abigail to Canaan House, and they both die together in the laboratory.

Compare this to the Sixth house, where instead of rejecting the paradigm at all Pal and Cam seem to have taken the stance of "through the power of love we can make necrocav healthy, actually", but again this is dishonest -- no amount of romanticization of necrocav consumption allows their relationship to actually BE non-exploitative, and the lie of equality haunts them to its natural end point i.e. their ultimate surrender to the Lyctoral process via their mutual death in flame.

And their relationship is especially interesting because of how Cam has thrown herself into the position of "cavalier" with complete abandon, leaving Pal unwilling to truly extricate himself from the role he has been assigned despite his clear discomfort with that level of devotion. See: "I can't bear this, I'm eating your life", "I never had rights to [your soul]" -- but, you know, he didn't HAVE to become the Master Warden, he didn't HAVE to accept Cam's devotion, he didn't HAVE to choose her as his cavalier. He chose to bear this, and he chooses to accept her ceding rights to her soul. I mean he does explode himself to prevent her from throwing herself on a spike to force his ascension but like, that didn't really stick, did it? Pal wants to escape the societal hierarchy he was born into, Cam says "no", and he accepts that answer, again and again and again.

"There was no alternative" / "We had the choice to stop"

[massiveharmonytiger]

So I think Gabe's portrayal was really intelligently done in the show and I'm pretty dismayed at the negative reactions. I'd argue that TV needs more portrayals of abusers that seem harmless and victims that make efforts to advocate for their own agency because that is what abuse often looks like in the real world. Yes, sometimes abuse is as in your face as with Gabe's introduction in the book version (which the show was still pretty true to, I'll discuss that below) and the other portrayals we've seen on TV, abusers being explicitly threatening or violent, victims cowering and showing visible distress, all that usual, tropey stuff. However, I think more education is needed on all the ways abuse is subtle, because this misunderstanding and this view of abuse as this black and white thing is often the reason so few victims get help, so many abusers get away with it and so many of the people around the victim and abuser, at best, are surprised when the find out what's really been happening, and at worst, defend the abuser because they're so harmless, nice, upstanding, pick your adjective and there's no way they're capable of that.

Source: https://www.domesticshelters.org/articles/identifying-abuse/the-silent-ways-abusers-control

I feel like a lot of the fandom has already fallen into this trap somewhat. Gabe from the TV show is too nonthreatening, bumbling, pathetic, silly, idiotic, nowhere near scary enough to warrant getting petrified by Medusa's head. He doesn't look like an ABUSER. And yet we're confronted with so many markers of abuse in that scene.

Gabe is harmless…

And yet he's verbally abusive to outsiders. The guy that leaves as Percy is arriving has experienced an interaction with Gabe that warrants Percy apologizing for Gabe's actions only for him to apologize back because he gets to leave, Percy doesn't. He's concerned. Sure, Gabe is fat shaming and yelling about eating fruit at the moment. The absurdity of the topic doesn't make it any less inappropriate or abusive btw, because its about the abuser having any excuse to display their dominance and power over you even if the subject matter is batshit. Ever see cases where one person in the relationship (usually a man) will police the other's clothing (usually a woman) because it's too revealing, too tacky, too whatever. That's abuse.

Gabe is harmless…

And yet he's verbally abusive towards Percy. He sarcastically greets him with the cruel nickname "genius" and immediately picks a fight with him. Percy refuses to engage because he knows, from experience, what being goaded looks like. Wrap your head around that. Kids older than him are out there having catfights and making stupid "your mom" jokes, but this infant has so much experience facing conflict, he already knows what steps to take to steer away from that kind of drama and stay in safe territory. He only engages a bit when he hears about Gabe answering Sally's phone. Anyone who's answered a friend or partner's phone before will probably consider Percy's anger and indignation a little bratty and unwarranted. The issue here is that Gabe is someone who ignores boundaries. The issue isn't that he answered Sally's phone, the issue is that he very likely did it without permission. Based on Percy and Sally's reactions (Percy is angry, Sally is resigned), he's someone who's regularly done stuff like look through Sally's phone or purse without her permission. Percy makes it clear that this is not okay, and he gets dismissed. Gabe just answers "whatever's ringin'" and Percy is made to look like the one overreacting. This is what abusers do. They're never in the wrong. And then, the cherry on top of the blue icing, he blames the victim. "What're we doing Percy, every time." Gabe's the one who picked the fight, but by the end of it, Percy's the one being blamed. This is so commonplace and anyone who's been through this knows how maddening it can be. This is such a short interaction but they pack so much into it.

Gabe is harmless…

And yet we find Sally sitting outside in the rain on the balcony, as if she's trying to ground herself after a traumatic experience. As if she's trying to bring herself into the present and not dissociate because when Percy arrives she needs to be there for him. She can deal with the Gabe stuff AFTER Percy is safe. I'll get more into Sally's interaction with Gabe in Part 2 because a lot of people were confused by the fact that she was so firm with him. There's an explanation, I promise.

A lot of people also expressed concern that we wouldn't see Gabe's truly monstrous side before he gets petrified but from what I can see, the shows been making great use of flashbacks and exposition, so I'm pretty sure this will be addressed. Percy and Sally are the heroes. It would be counterintuitive for the show to establish that and then not give them a blatant cause for turning Gabe into stone.

[chlorinecake]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐏’𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝟒 — a yang jungwon fanfic

𖤣 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after betraying his trust, yandere!yang jungwon tries his best to maintain a forgiving heart towards you, but things only take a turn for the worse when you foolishly refuse his rules again…

𖥧 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mild-nudity, insinuated food poisoning, abduction themes, suggestive (mentions of self/pleasure and cnc themes), swearing, violence, slow burn, crying, angst

𖡼 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.8k ~ Previously ⊱✿⊰

✎ note: In no way does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. I write purely for entertainment and creative purposes. Reader discretion is advised

TWO DAYS HAD passed since Jungwon first confronted you about sneaking out to the greenhouse while he was away at work.

You’re certain your heart nearly pumped out of your chest once those ominous words escaped his mouth, sending a valley of chills down your spine.

Tracing back the steps you took in your mind, you’re not entirely sure how Jungwon even found out about your little adventure anyways…

Still, your soul contented itself to some degree in the simple fact that he hadn’t asked you anything about what you saw in his greenhouse…

Or better yet, what you weren’t supposed to see.

The only time you saw Jungwon in between those days were whenever he brewed you a cup of tea in the morning, or came back home from work to prepare your supper.

A suspicious inkling in your heart remained concerning his reasons for wanting you to drink the mysterious herbal concoction so routinely.

Out of paranoia, you would instead pour the shimmery liquid into the ivy plant on your nightside table, hoping that he’d never find out about it…

At the end of the day, you really did want to trust Jungwon… not that he deserved it or anything… you just felt that trusting him was the very least you could do in return.

…Especially ever since he vowed to never hurt or touch you against your will again…

“I’m sorry,” your voice began at a whisper, somehow sounding loud in the quiet of Jungwon’s presence.

You were currently in the kitchen with him, sitting at the round wooden table while he prepared you a bowl of fresh fruit from his garden.

He turned to look at you over his shoulder, eyes barely visible through his shaggy bangs as his grip around the bowl tightened slightly.

“Sorry for what?,” he asked, not sure as to why you were apologizing.

Did you do something bad without him knowing?

Did you somehow manage to go against his rules right under his nose again?

You could tell from the sudden feeling of tension in the room that Jungwon’s mind started to wander in dark places, so you knew you had to speak fast.

“M-my little incident with the greenhouse… I hope you find in your heart t-to forgive my curiosity…” you stuttered nervously, picking with your nails in your lap.

He remained quiet, breathing pattern still like a wind chime frozen in time as he turned on his heel, eyes still not meeting yours.

You watched as he reached for a spoon to drizzle honey on your breakfast, “Would you like any yogurt or granola with your fruit, love?”

You couldn’t believe he just asked you that, of all things—

“Jungwon, I’m trying to apologize here…”

“I know,” he hummed sarcastically, “and I’m trying to prepare your breakfast…”

“I… I know…,” you repeated with a sigh, hanging your head low now as the tension only grew thicker, “thank you, Jungwon… just the fruit and honey is fine…”

He was pleased with your obedience to his subtle cues, bringing the bowl to you with a silver spoon perched in its side, “You're welcome…”

And with that, the stale morning continued as usual, you and Jungwon barely exchanging any small talk as the nearby sun rose to its fullest extent.

He never explicitly said that he forgave you for sneaking out into the greenhouse that day, but it elated him nonetheless that you took a small step to compliance.

About another hour had passed after you both finished breakfast together before Jungwon received a call from his boss, saying that he could have the day off because of a blackout in the city.

That meant you and him would be spending the entire day together, an occurrence that rarely even happened on the weekends given his busy work life.

Jungwon was always busy, so he claimed… which only made you question how he was able to stalk you all those months before abducting you.

You quite seriously couldn’t believe a single word that escaped his serpentine mouth—

“I want to show you a creative piece I've been working on in my greenhouse for you,” he began with gentle enthusiasm as you two spent some time rearranging the bedroom.

Or more accurately, while you sat on the bed, watching him add three extra locks to your bedroom door.

You didn’t respond yet as you didn’t know what to say, so he busied himself with neatly putting away his work tools before standing up from the ground to meet you.

“I hope you don't mind that I kept the dress you wore on your first day here,” he continued bashfully, “I used it to come up with your measurements for the dress.”

He also used it to please himself in eery hours of the night while he thought of a whiny you squirming beneath him, but he'd rather keep that part private for now...

His freshly calloused hand found yours as he joined the spot beside you on the mattress, pulling you back into the moment with a pleasant expression on his angelic features.

It was a shame how someone so demented could be so beautiful.

“What's wrong, my love? Did you spoil the surprise for yourself that day you went snooping around without my permission?” Jungwon interrogated frantically, worried that the blank expression on your face had something to do with his mentioning of the dress.

And it did, but not for reasons he assumed.

“God, you saw it already, didn't you? Please don't hate me ____, I know it didn't look like much at the time, but—”

“Jungwon—”

“I made a few finishing touches since then, but it looks way better now, I promise... I'm so sorry for not hiding the surprise from you better—”

“Wonie,” you said a little louder this time, making his guilt-stricken eyes soften slightly at your use of a nickname.

He let out a sigh, shaking his head with a light-hearted chuckle before running a hand through his thick brown locks, “Guess I kinda rambled a bit there, didn't I?”

“Just a little,” you agreed, patting him on the back as he rested his elbows on his thighs while sitting.

If only you could feel the way his crooked heart fluttered at your simple initiation of physical touch.

“And I didn't see your project in the greenhouse, by the way... only a naked mannequin and some plants… so please, don’t stress yourself out over that,” you reassured in a soft tone, almost as if cooing to the hurt child inside him…

“I appreciate everything you do for me, Jungwon… you know that…,” you confessed in the stillness, an odd sincerity behind each word.

“Thank you for saying that, my love... but as a committed pair, my duty is to please you, and that's all I could ever aspire to do so long as you keep pleasing me...” his voice trailed off ominously, your eyes watching as little sighs kept leaving his body…

It was a strange thing, really...

Seeing such an intimidating person falter to reverence… insecurity.

You wondered in your mind exactly what Jungwon meant by you pleasing him, but you decided to keep quiet for the meantime instead of asking.

Suddenly, he lifted himself from the bed, turning to face you with a seemingly restored countenance as he spoke, “I can't wait for you to try on the dress though, ____... I just know you'll look absolutely divine once its on you... Ready?”

“Ready,” you smiled, taking his extended hand in yours as he guided you out of the bedroom and to his forbidden greenhouse.

YOUR BODY STIFFENED as stone, your lungs hardly remembering to breathe as Jungwon’s cold hands stripped you of your clothing layer by layer.

You stood in front of him, now only in a washed-out pair of lace panties and thin bralette, a wooden stepping stool placed beneath your feet which strangely resembled a pedestal.

The sound of metal clothes hangers sliding into each other hit your ears as he rummaged through the wardrobe in between one of his gardening shelves.

Meanwhile, your eyes scanned the room before inevitably falling back onto the sight of two mannequins, one whole and another headless.

From the looks of it, you almost couldn’t believe that Jungwon had designed either of the pieces himself, let alone crafted them by hand.

Despite how Jungwon had proved to you multiple times that he was a jack of all trades, his array of skills never seeming to fail.

The red dress you watched him carefully remove from the mannequin was the one that belonged to you.

It’s neckline was made up of fancy lace, dried out field flowers trailing the accented seams.

The waist of the dress was decorated similarly, an array of gorgeous flowers with warm hues floating idly atop the skirt of feathery fabric, ballon-like sleeves completing the look with a mocked neckline.

The piece, in short, was lovely, Jungwon having brought with him a pair of silk white leggings and sliding them up your dainty ankles as would a servant before his queen.

It was evident all over his face that he took such delight in dressing you, hands respectfully adjusting your undergarments and fastening the makeshift zipper up your spine.

With delicate hands, he straightened out the fabric over your shoulders and down your waist as needed before stepping back to get a full look at you.

“My precious blossom...” he began adoringly, observing how the thin material draped over every ethereal curve of your body, and how the coloring palette complimented your natural one as if it were the only dress you were ever meant to wear.

"You're glowing," he almost whispered this time, voice so light that it tickled you when it touched your skin.

“Thank you,” you replied with a similarly gentle tone, not quite sure on how to respond to his enamor for you.

Pacing back towards you, he took your hands in his, looking almost as if he was holding back tears once his feline eyes met yours, “What do you think, my love? Did I do a just job for you?…”

“It’s perfect,” you smiled, abandoning one of his hands so you could swipe the moisture from his eyes, watching as he nearly purred at your action, “I love it…”

“And I’m so happy you do,” he replied, gentle touch grazing your wrist as he continued to admire the view of you in his unique piece.

“I have a question, though,” you started shyly, still watching his face in case there’d be an unpredictable change of emotion.

He simply nodded, feelings as though he was in a sleep-like state from how lovesick he felt right now, “You may continue, my love…”

“Okay,” you went on, swallowing any nerves building up in your throat before speaking, “What compelled you to design such a dress for me in the first place?”

A prolonged silence meddled between you two at the question up until he giggled slightly to himself, confusion washing over you at the sight of his now full-smile.

“Has it really been that long, love,” Jungwon asked in a half-serious tone, “for you to not even remember anymore?”

“Remember what?” You asked back, using the most polite voice you could muster.

“Remember that you’re my little flower, silly,” he smiled eerily, pinching one of your cheeks in a way that triggered a fear response within you.

Fortunately though, you did a good job of concealing it this time…

I’m not a flower, Jungwon, a voice similar to your own weakly choked out in desperation, trying to trigger a memory.

“I…. I’m not sure I fully understand,” you admitted, not even aware of how your legs stiffened, or the way your heart started to pulse as if you’d just been in a fight.

“Your rebuttal,” he clarified, “in the woods that day… it rang true to my ears,” he said, still tracing your skin with his touch.

“Jungwon—”

“Let me finish… please,” he interrupted sternly before tilting his head at you. “You brought something very important to my attention that day… and it was that every flower ought to have petals…”

He stopped in his words, hoping that you would understand, and to some degree, you did.

All of this, from day one… was to make sure that you, as his flower, blossomed accordingly…

The tea he ‘watered’ you with every morning…

The rays of sunlight he valued synonymously with any other form of nutrition you received…

The dress he designed for you with his own hands…

And the initial nickname he graced you with since as long as you could forget…

Jungwon loved you from the depths of his stony heart, and he had a very strange way of expressing it to you at times.

Though, now that you were complete with a set of more petals than he could possibly count, the last step was for Jungwon to make sure he took good care of you so you wouldn’t wither away…

So you wouldn’t have to perish like the last girl did…

THAT EVENING, JUNGWON brought you back to the garden just outside the main cabin on the land lot.

You sat quaintly, hands folded in your lap as he toiled in the flower bed, the knees of his dark blue jeans turning dark with moist soil.

"You look rather bored," he started, a glint of playfulness in his eyes, "care to give me a hand?"

"Sure," you replied apprehensively, getting up from the wooden bench you sat at and joining him at the seedling patch.

"See that shovel over there," he asked, directing your attention to its auburn handle a few feet away from you, "use it to sprinkle a bit of fertilizer over these here flowers, please."

"Okay," you obliged, a little grunt escaping you as you reached forward to grab the shovel, Jungwon's eyes trying their best not to follow the curve of your outstretched figure, the sounds you made doing enough to tingle his imagination.

"Is everything alright? You look warm," you said, observing the slight hue rushing to the apple of his cheeks.

"Oh- No, I'm alright," he said with a reassuring smile, reaching in his side pocket to pull out a pair of gardening scissors.

You busied yourself with sprinkling the flower bed with fertilizer, meanwhile, the distant sound of Jungwon snipping a few plants filled your ears alongside the peaceful melody of songbirds.

Your mind couldn't help but think of the day he made you kill one of their kind... the day he made you steal another creatures freedom, just as he had done to you-

"What're you picking?" You asked, not meeting his eyes as you dusted a bit of dirt from your hands.

"Just some herbs for your tea," he answered in a quiet voice, focusing most of his mind on the task at hand, "the ones in my greenhouse withered out somehow, but I'm glad I had a few back-up plants out here..."

Your eyes followed as he continued to snip, colorful leaf and flower bud remnants falling into the mini mortar bowl he held in his free hand.

"Do you recognize all the plants you farm by name?"

"Pfft... of course I do," he chuckled, "I've been a man of the garden my whole life," he added. "These purple ones here are called valerian, the vibrant ones passion flowers, and the red ones are poppy's... though, I often mix these with berry brews in your tea..."

You took a mental note of the names he listed, "And do you have a botanical book by any chance-"

"You're asking a lot of questions again, love," he said, voice sounding a bit cold even though his face remained just as friendly.

"S-sorry," you apologized timidly, hanging your head low as the evening wind picked up, blowing sprinkles of wildlife into the air as Jungwon turned his head to avoid getting anything in his eyes.

"Let's head back inside now," he said softly, "it's getting late."

You got up from the ground, holding your day-dress at either side of you as if it already hadn't been soiled from the soggy flower bed, Jungwon guiding you back to the cabin with a protective hand around your waist as the wind continued to beat at your backs.

Promptly upon being met with the warmth of the main cabin, Jungwon locked the door behind you two before making his way to the kitchen where he set a kettle on the stovetop.

Meanwhile, he had ran you a bath so you could get washed up in the nearby restroom down the hallway, cleaning yourself with haste and changing into a fresh pair of clothes.

The tea kettle was whistling angrily in a matter of minutes, Jungwon having crushed the collection of herbs and berries with the pestle in his bowl and pouring the scalding water right over it.

With a skilled hand, he drizzled a bit of honey at the bottom of your teacup, transferring the brew right over.

Clink... clink... clink.

Jungwon gave the mixture a few stirs with a metal spoon before deciding to himself that it was ready.

"____," he called after you from your bedroom in a sing-songy voice, waiting for a now-refreshed you to meet him on the mattress.

The feline eyed boy held the warm cup tenderly in his grasp just as you returned with a damp head of hair and natural glow.

"It's time for your tea, love," he reiterated, scooting over on the bed as you didn't hesitate to join the spot beside him.

He opened your hands before placing the cup within your grasp.

There was something about the expression on his face in this moment... a knowing look displayed on his cat-like features as he eyed you fiercely, waiting for you to take the first sip.

"I added a new ingredient to it this time, too," he went on, breaking the odd silence, "not that you'd even notice a difference in the taste since you never drink it despite my instructions to."

Your heart nearly rolled from your chest and onto the prickly wooden floor at his sudden words.

"W-wha... what did you say," you stuttered nervously, tightening your grip around the teacup.

"Oh, please... you didn't think I'd catch on to the ivy's pot and soil being over-soaked so frequently?" He challenged, shaking his head at you in disappointment that you even thought you could get away with lying to him.

Again.

"The poor thing almost died because of you," he continued, taking in your anxious body language even though your eyes failed to meet his daunting ones.

"I... I don't know what to say," you admitted with a shaky voice, knowing that with Jungwon, it was better to say something, even if it was stupid, instead of saying nothing at all.

He hummed at your reply before speaking again, "So I'll ask you a question instead... how come you never drink it? I mean... you're not a picky eater, so there must be some other reason... isn't there?"

You let out a hesitant breath, "Jungwon, I don't know what you want to hear, but-"

"I don't want to hear anything but the truth, ____," he clarified with an exhausted huff, keeping his eyes on you as if pleading.

"Now don't keep me waiting with your nonsense because you already know how I get when you do that to me..."

“I…I just,” you stumbled over your speech, struggling to maintain eye contact with him as his gaze practically pierced you.

“You don’t trust me,” he finished for you, shaking his head at your failure to even deny it. “You genuinely think that I’d do something bad to you,” he scoffed while clenching his jaw, “even after that pathetic little promise I made to you…”

That’s when you felt the cup harshly leave your grasp, a bit of its liquid spilling onto your lap as he abruptly stood up from the mattress.

A scornful look took over his delicate features, throwing his head back before drinking the tea in one big gulp, wiping the remaining residue from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, “There… you see?! Not that hard, right love?”

You meant to respond but he already paced out of the room by now, coming back in less than a minute with the kettle in his hand, refilling the teacup he’d just drank from.

Smiling facetiously at your nervous frame, Jungwon pushed your legs open with his own, now standing dauntingly between them.

You were still sat on the bed, legs trembling at either side of his thighs as his broad shadow nearly consumed your lesser one, eyes rising to meet his nightmarish face thanks to his hand guiding your chin upward.

You didn't like this one bit, the cold air of the room hitting your core now that your legs were spread open, nor his body being positioned right between you.

He tilted his head, your eyes brimming with fearful tears that every bone in your body tried to push down with the growing lump in your throat that you couldn't swallow.

“So do it then,” he went on sternly, voice not raised but just as impactful, “Take the fucking cup and drink it.”

There was a certain beast imbedded behind Jungwon's contrastingly angelic face... it was always hungry, waiting for whatever enticing peep-hole of a chance was provided for him to squeeze through.

And as perverted as it sounds, that same hole of temptation laid right within you, hidden behind a dainty nightgown that acted as wrapping paper to a precious gift.

With every day that passed, Jungwon could feel himself crawling despairingly closer and closer to its rim, praying that he might someday spill over the edge and be basked in all its glory...

The very glory he placed on your purity since day one, seeking after it as if it'd rescue his corrupted soul.

You had no other choice but to heed to his words, parting your lips with a broken whine as his grip on your face tightened.

He refused to bring the cup to your lips, watching as if entertained once you lifted the cup over his hand, letting the tea meet your dry tongue.

“Swallow it,” he ordered, looking into your eyes before the feeling of warmth hit your stomach almost instantly, the teacup now being empty.

“Wonie,” you choked out, a single tear gliding down the supple curve of your cheek as his free hand set the cup on the nightstand, only to find your lips and toy a thumb at it.

“What is it love?” He whispered in a hoarse voice, peering impossibly close to your face as his grip remained tight.

“I’d like to go to bed now,” you yelped weakly, lips twitching with fear that only continued to multiply within you now that he'd pushed your back against the mattress, caging you beneath him.

“And without supper?” He taunted, whispering these words right under your ear as your hands trembled at his chest.

“Yes,” you blurted out with heavy breaths, “I’m no longer hungry, Jungwon…”

He let your words sink in, taking in just how scared you seemed when he hadn't even done anything yet.

The way you feared Jungwon used to bother him, but now he started to see an advantage in it... an advantage in the way you crumbled into submission before him.

“Very well then,” he said, hands finally leaving your chin with a few red marks still remaining on your skin from the pressure, “sleep well, my love...”

☆ Thank you all so much for reading this piece! I always love how interactive you guys are in the comments with this story and it truly brings a smile to my face !! On a side note though, this part turned out much longer than expected, so apologies for the cliffhanger ;-; ... to be continued hehe ;)

☆ taglist:  @squoxle @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @kaykay11sworld @gigiramirezsblog @hoonsyo @en-thralled  @night-en-shining-armor @cutiejseong @j-wyoung @nikisvanillaccola @bambangan @wonbyf @4imhry @zhangyi-johee  @valhrts @lisaaannna @lovelycassy @addictedtohobi @gardenwons @nikipedia07 @tubatusoobs  @clarisabutterfliescupcake @yevene @heecries @rosiemiayyxy @jungwonieee @edgykoo @luvmlkw @idkhoomanmaybe @sunsinmyskies @guessm0del @ayadikreino @destairea @jakehooni @jjungwonss @nikilvr @jays-property @moonchus @angelicjungwon @wonniesdoll @rosiemiayyxy @rinirumi @noviadebeomgyu @pochacco-o @hapeynaaa @ikngh @maspire @mamuljji @hnnhj @legendarycowboywinnerlawyer @enhypenlovre @stxrboyjae @f4irynono @03sunoos @itwasrem @laurradoesloveu @lalalalovelalalasworld @honestimage @ro-0327 @stwberrykooki @heelvrr @wonbinisbabygurl @jungwonloveer @jungwonsmybf @kayoiw @lovelycassy @mrswolfhard3 @theothernads @junieshohoho @wonheartz @jongsbie @candewlsy @kotazuken @moonchus @laurradoesloveu @millieinyourarea @straightondryland

[phagodyke]

my local gp is only offering telephone appointments atm + the only way to book is to call them, which means that since I'm deaf I have to get my mum to book me appointments + she has to be there on the call with me. which is fine until ur trying to talk to the gp abt ur current mental health + ur mother is like nooo my daughter has never been depressed or anxious ever in her life shes so happy 🥰 and won't give u the opportunity to refute it 🙃