#this is NOT the first time I’ve been threatened for calling out his racism

[angelnumber27]

Ok so bear with me (if you care lol)

This includes some offensive shit that I really toned down for this post bc it was that bad so.. tw abuse tw racism tw xenophobia idek what else to add it’s just bad

This is how it started (talking while eating dinner)

Me: I like having a phone bc you can learn so many things

Dad: YEAH LIKE THINGS THAT ARENT TRUE

YOU BASE YOUR WHOLE LIFE OFF OF WHAT YOU READ ON THAT PHONE

me (very calmly): you do the same thing. You live your life and base your ideals on your little radio talk show you listen to all day and Fox News (he rly is a brainwashed ass…) He then got silent for about three minutes I guess out of rage????? and then was like YOU BETTER NOT EVER QUESTION ME OR MY KNOWLEDGE ON HOW THR WORLD WORKS EVER AGAIN IVE BEEN HERE WAY LONGER THAN YOU I KNOW MORE THAN YOU (blah blah blah it went on and on hahahaha)

He screamed YOU ALWAYS FUCKING SIDE WITH THE BAD GUY!!!!!!!

I said someone having a different opinion than you do should not bother you this much it’s weird

And he said “You always have the same opinion though!” And I was like yea so do you, and I don’t scream at you for being a racist abusive disgusting piece of shit (didn’t say the stuff past the word you bc I would have been probably punched in the face or had a glass plate thrown at my head as hard as possible from two feet away or worse but boy was I thinking it)

anyways lmao i said “I literally have to sit there silently and say nothing every time you try to start a conflict and a huge fight and freak out at me because if I say ANYTHING you lose it” (I stg even just on regular days in regular conversations this man goes out of his way to try to create conflict and initiate a fight every damn time)

And he just continued with the absolutely disgusting bullshit about how I’m always wrong and always siding with “the bad guys” (homeless people, minorities, lgbt people, disabled people, people who need government assistance, mentally ill people, addicts, people who wore masks even when the pandemic was at its worst, people who got vivid shots, immigrants, Palestinians, anything even slightly liberal in general etc etc etc etc)

I was basically overall just like I don’t understand why you take it as a personal attack when someone has their own opinion. I said a lot of immigrants come here to make better lives for their families back home and then I said something about how fentanyl and meth are already here and it’s not just coming from Mexico and he got all angry and was like DONT FUCKING DEFEND THOSE PEOPLE. IMMIGRANTS HAVE RUINED OUR COUNTRY!

I literally was like jfc dude calm down and walked away

Then while I walked away he threatened to kick me out so I could “be homeless or find a place where they believe the same bullshit as me”

I think I’m just gonna go nonverbal for a while. Feels like the best route to take rn. If I don’t speak he can’t twist my words and try to say he’s being attacked 🫠

can I rant about my dumbass bigot father real quick

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

Hi! I’m sorry if this is dumb but I’m not understanding why the Ed hate is racist? From what I’ve seen it has nothing to do with his race, just his actions? What is racist about it? I’m asking this very genuinely because I want to understand and learn more from this so please don’t take this as being annoying or patronizing or something!

ok so not all Ed hate falls under the racism catagory some people just have genuinely bad taste. The thing that is racist is insisting that he's an abuser. I've explained several times why he's not abusive, as have many many others. But, here's the quick recap: Izzy was abusing him, Ed has a history of lashing out towards his abusers with physical violence and Izzy established that he had been doing this sort of thing to Ed for years so you know, he's going the way of Ed's father and nobody would argue that Ed was abusing his father. Ed wasn't abusive towards the crew. Like he did some shitty things while suicidal. He hurt his friends I'm not saying he didn't. However: 1. This show is full of very very over the top violence and no one is getting up Button's ass about Lucius's finger. 2. It would be an incredibly strange move for a rom com to make one of it's leads a domestic abuser, It's not such a weird move to give a character in a rom com a suicidal arc where they push all their friends away. The first choice would yeild a completely unwatchable show the second is what happened in ofmd. 3. David Jenkins himself has talked about this and he said "What Blackbeard did was by the standards of the pirate world a bit much" I don't know if I even agree with this considering everything we've heard about Hornigold but I certainly agree with the sentiment that Ed did some shitty things but nothing that was significantly more horrific than other characters in the show who nobody treats the way they treat Ed.

So with all of that in mind: Why is it racist to call him an abuser. Like sure, all of this adds up to the abuse truthers being wrong and stupid but what does it have to do with Ed's skin color? This ties into the history that the Maori people share with a lot of indigenous groups who were colonized by europeans. I would encourage you to do more research on your own but I'll point you in the generally right direction. Indigenous men are portrayed as hyper violent in order to justify their subjugation (see head hunters stereotypes or how often people assume indigenous cultures were doing human sacrifice). A lot of the Ed hate exaggerates how violent he is in comparison to other characters. Indigenous men are portrayed as dirty and barbaric and in need of being civilized by a benevolent white savior. A lot of fic and meta positions either Stede or Izzy as needing to save Ed from himself, or as needing to babysit him or teach him to read or bathe, ect. That's why people are so up in arms about the soap eating joke.

And finally the abuse thing. Positioning indigenous men as abusers has been used historically as a shoddy justification for family separation. This stereotype pairs incredibly well with the violent stereotype. So IF Ed was abusing poor defenseless little white Izzy it would actually be a racist decision for the writers to make. Like there's a way to portray characters of color doing abuse, because being nonwhite doesn't make you incapable of doing shitty things, but that would not be it. Thankfully that is catagorically not what's happening, we've been told that the Kraken is an abuse responce, Izzy provokes the Kraken, we've seen Izzy be paralelled with Ed's two other abusers (Hornigold and Ed's dad), we've been shown Izzy controlling the flow of information between Ed and his crew, we've been showing Izzy manipulating Ed, we've been shown him lying to turn the crew against Ed, we've been shown Izzy attempting to murder someone Ed cares about specifically because Ed cares about them, we've seen Izzy threaten Ed's life for acting wrong, we've heard Izzy confess to doing all of that shit FOR YEARS on his death bed (a time which it would completely undercut the emotional impact of the scene if he was lying). So like... people ignoring all of that shit in order to portray Ed as shooting off his leg for no fucking reason and say he's the abuser is very... "You forgot the racism don't worry we'll add it back in for you" and continuing to insist on that and be shitty to people who won't cop to your dumbass shit is actively making the fandom a more racist space.

[suffersinfandom]

Heyo, @nidmightcookies! This is my response to your reply on Atticus' post over here -- I didn't want to take away from the message of that post or the additions from other POC.

Sidenote: I'm extremely white and have no credentials that make me qualified to talk about race (I'm just a person who reads and tries to listen), and my takes are probably going to show that. That's another reason I didn't want to clutter up the original post with my reply.

In response to this

“Why is it racist to depict Ed as uncontrollably violent?  Because he's not actually depicted that way in the show.”

you talk about Ed baiting the crew to murder him and committing other violent acts. The original point is stating that Ed is not depicted as uncontrollably violent in the show, not claiming that he perpetrated no violence full stop. Yes, Ed does violence. No, he is not uncontrollably violent.

What Ed does is purposeful, not uncontrollable. He doesn’t push Lucius off the ship after he gives up all hope because he’s a violent guy who just does stuff like that, and the mutiny situation in S2E2… as allthinky said in a response, “that’s Ed at the end of his rope,” not him being uncontrollably violent. He’d been working towards suicide ever since he started baiting Low. As a backup plan, he’s been working the crew hard, disregarding their well-being, and being an overall awful boss in an attempt to incite a mutiny. 

Yes, he was “a serious, immediate threat to his crew” by the time he was out of other ideas to make someone take him out. Ed commits acts of violence -- I don’t think I’ve seen anyone claim he doesn’t -- but he always does so with some amount of reason (not necessarily good reasons) and control. 

“Upon reflection, my biggest issue may be with the people who argue that Ed's never been shown to be violent, or that any time he has resorted to violence, he's absolved of blame by the fact that someone was mean to him first. Which... I don't think I've seen you make either of those arguments at any point in the past.”

I’m really glad that you mentioned that OP hadn’t made either of those arguments (that you know of), that was genuinely very cool. As for the rest of it, I don’t believe I’ve seen anyone say that Ed is “never shown to be violent” or that he can always be “absolved of the blame” unless you want to remove all of the nuance from common talking points. 

He is never shown to be more violent than the average pirate and, due to his deep-seated trauma relating to his own capacity for violence, he’s actually on the less violent end of the pirate spectrum. He can’t be absolved of all blame for his actions because he’s a grown man who makes his own choices (and saying otherwise robs him of his agency). What I’ve seen said is that Ed’s actions are informed by things like trauma, abuse, and racism. His actions make sense. They’re not spontaneous violence committed because Ed flies into rages and homicidal spirals out of the blue.

“Not saying we shouldn't consider it [that is, are we “assigning more weight to Ed's violent actions than those of other characters or assuming he's worse than he actually is”], but I mean. If a white character on the show had cut off his employee's toes and fed them to him, shot him in the leg, ordered his death, held a gun on his other subordinates, marooned some/tossed one overboard, threatened to drown the ones that remained... because he was pushed into it, with the same combination of abusive childhood/hostile work environment... would he be equally deserving of that consideration? Would it be an overreaction to call him dangerous?”

Probably, but if everything was the same except Ed Is White Now, his baggage and his relationship with Izzy wouldn’t be exactly the same. Ed's race isn’t inconsequential. We can't really remove race from the story and end up with the same character, y'know?

Also: I do think it’s inappropriate to turn this question back on POC. I don’t think that POC are obligated to reconsider biases against a white character.

“Izzy is crew”

Ed’s relationship to Izzy is not comparable to his relationship with the crew. The crew have done nothing wrong and haven’t behaved antagonistically towards Ed. Izzy and Ed have a complicated, toxic, and difficult relationship (regardless of where you stand on whether or not Izzy’s abusive), therefore any harm caused to Izzy has to be considered differently than harm caused to the rest of the crew.

“Even if we say that he doesn't count, Ed still pushed Lucius off the ship.”

Yes, Ed did do that, but I think that Atticus is talking about Ed’s S2 actions in that point, not what happened in S1. Most (I think all?) meta I’ve read does consider Ed pushing Lucius off the ship an act of violence that Lucius himself did nothing to provoke. 

This might be controversial, but I’d put Ed pushing Lucius overboard on par with, like, a particularly unjust firing in a workplace that isn’t a pirate vessel. When we watch OFMD, we have to adjust our physical violence meters to account for the fact that we’re dealing with an environment that’s full of physical violence.

“Also, emotional abuse directed at the rest of the crew is still abuse”

I don't consider Ed emotionally abusive. He works the crew hard. He’s a terrible boss who doesn’t give his employees vacation days or paid time off and then throws them a sad pizza party. That sucks, it’s not okay, and his final death spiral in S2E2 is terrible and he never should have involved the crew in that. 

Abuse is a pattern of behavior that’s meant to control people. Not all harm is abuse. When I say that Ed isn't abusive, I'm not saying that he didn't hurt people.

“So... I was raised by a physically and psychologically abusive parent. I get that Ed's been hurt, is still hurting, and why. The "why" doesn't matter for the question of "did he or didn't he", though. It may or may not be his fault, he may or may not have done it because he felt unsafe. The point is, his actions did hurt people.”

Same, friend, and I'm sorry you went through that. (That’s actually one of the reasons I’ve always been wary of Izzy. What he says and does in S1 is too familiar to me, sometimes to a point where I can’t watch certain scenes.) I don’t think anyone’s saying that Ed isn’t hurting anyone, or that all of his actions can be attributed to abuse. If that’s not what you’re getting at here, apologies for misunderstanding.

“His boss that he was trying to control was brown.  Was that a factor in his power play though, or was it because Taika wound up being cast as Blackbeard? Any other (white) actor in the role, would Izzy be as bad for trying to control him? Would the scripts have gone a different way?”

Here’s the thing. In the show we have, Blackbeard is played by a Maori/Jewish man, and this fundamentally alters the character. There are things in the show -- whole episodes, if you want to look at S1E5 and the fancy party guests who treat Ed like exotic entertainment and not a peer -- that wouldn’t be the same if Ed was white. 

And yeah, Ed being brown changes the dynamic between Ed and Izzy. It would still be bad if a white guy was trying to control another white guy, but it wouldn’t be bad on the same level. Same goes if they were both brown. A white man trying to control the behavior of an indigenous man is worse.

“Izzy got permanently disfigured, crippled, and dead, while Ed came out largely unscathed in a physical sense, due to Muppet logic. Not to say one is more deserving than the other, but for a bunch of fans, there's probably a sense of Izzy getting the short end of the stick, to consider.”

That’s fine if some people feel like Izzy got the short end of the stick. It’s fine that some people feel like Izzy’s arc was kinder to him than it should have been. It’s okay to feel whatever! We connect emotionally to different characters and that biases our opinions and meta. That’s not a crime. We just need to be aware of our biases and why they exist.

The thing with OFMD is that Ed is a main character with more background and a story that, at every turn, asks you to sympathize with him. We’re given a look into Ed’s psyche. We understand at least some of his trauma and hurt and why he acts the way he does. Izzy has virtually no backstory and we’re never offered a glimpse into his mind; we don’t know why he’s like that. You can totally like a secondary character (or even an antagonist!) with no real canonical background or mental groundwork. It’s fun to ask why characters do what they do when canon doesn’t offer us any answers, and who doesn’t love a mystery box? 

But with OFMD, it can raise eyebrows when people say their main concern is the suffering of a white man who behaves antagonistically towards a brown man, especially when that brown character is a well-developed lead who also suffers (and suffers at the hands of aforementioned white character). It’s not inherently racist for someone to care more about Izzy than Ed, but it’s also not unreasonable to ask that someone to think about the possibility that subconscious racism could be factoring into their point of view.

“I don't think it's fair discussion to have a rule saying ‘even though you didn't directly call out the brown man, your argument is still racist’... even if it's true in many cases, it effectively means that no criticism of the character can ever be considered valid. If someone wants to argue ‘removing your employee's toes and feeding them to him is abusive behavior’, they can't, because of the unspoken skin colors involved? I don't know what the solution to this is.”

No one is saying that all criticism of a character of color is racist or invalid. As allthinky said in response, we’re saying that “those critiques have to be based on real evidence, and placed in a careful context, so that their actions can be understood as human, and not just the brutality of some brute.”

Criticize, but criticize with evidence and with awareness of the context of the criticized behavior. 

With the Izzy example, you have to consider the context of their relationship and Izzy’s actions throughout S1. Izzy isn’t just an employee: he’s a trusted second-in-command who has been insulting, controlling, and disloyal; he endangered not just Stede but also Ed and the rest of the crew; he told Ed that he was better off dead than acting as he was, and that Izzy's loyalty belongs to the violent worksona that Ed wants to shed. Is Ed being abusive when he’s reacting in response to abuse from his abuser? 

“[T]he show has layers (like an onion). Sometimes the meaning is not entirely surface-level, and everyone has a different level of comprehension. Sometimes obvious things to us aren't obvious to other fans/vice-versa. There's a whole 'nother discussion of media literacy to be had.”

I think that Atticus said it best here: “This is not a subtle show. That's not to say it's a simple one [...]. It's amazingly layered and emotional responses by characters are often extremely complex. However, when the show is trying to tell you something, it's not subtle and it never tries to hide it.”

There are a lot of things in OFMD that are subjective and open to interpretation, and those things are fun to discuss even when we have different takes. There are also a lot of things that are very clear. When people try to subvert the messages and ideas that OFMD is conveying loudly and openly, other fans get suspicious and wonder if the folks doing the subverting have an agenda, a bias, or just misunderstand what the show is saying.

I hope that reply was sufficient!

[best-underrated-anime]

Best Underrated Anime Group I Round 1: #I8 vs #I1

#I8: Magical girl club gets silly and depressing

In her everyday life, Yuuna Yuuki is a hero. As proof, she is in her middle school's Hero Club, where she does her best to help others and bring a smile to everyone's face.

But Yuuna, always up to any task, is about to become an even bigger hero. Mysterious destructive forces called Vertexes begin threatening the world she loves, and the Hero Club is called upon by a strange phone app to save it. Along with her best friend Mimori Tougou, as well as sisters Fuu and Itsuki Inubouzaki, they must transform into magical girls in order to battle the Vertexes.

#I1: The 86 are forced to fight someone else’s war.

According to the Republic of San Magnolia, their ongoing war against the Giadian Empire has no casualties—however, that is mere propaganda. While the silver-haired Alba of the Republic's eighty-five sectors live safely behind protective walls, those of different appearances are interned in a secret eighty-sixth faction. Known within the military as the Eighty-Six, they are forced to fight against the Empire's autonomous Legion under the command of the Republican "Handlers."

Vladilena Milizé is assigned to the Spearhead squadron to replace their previous Handler. Shunned by her peers for being a fellow Eighty-Six supporter, she continues to fight against their inhumane discrimination. Shinei Nouzen is the captain of the Spearhead squadron. Infamous for being the sole survivor of every squadron he's been in, he insists on shouldering the names and wishes of his fallen comrades.

Titles, propagandas, trailers, and poll under the cut!

#I8: Yuuki Yuuna is a Hero (Yuuki Yuuna wa Yuusha de Aru)

Propaganda:

I adored this show from the moment I watched it because throughout it all, it’s hopeful. These girls go through a lot. A LOT. A lot of horrible, horrible things, and yet they bounce back. These girls bounce back pretty much every single time and do anything to help their friends do the same. To me, that is insanely inspiring.

The cast of characters here are also insanely compelling. They feel like actual, real friends—doing things together, hanging out, comforting each other and laughing with them all the same. This point I feel helps that sense of hope this show has absolutely.

The character designs in general too are absolutely breathtaking, and are nothing like I’ve ever seen from any other magical girl anime. Also, one last thing: this show’s soundtrack is done by MONACA. MONACA is also known for doing the first two NieR games. Take that what you will :)

Trigger Warnings: Flashing Lights, Self-Harm, Suicide

#I1: 86 (Eighty-Six)

Propaganda:

The characterization and character development in this show is amazing. It also has a very good depiction of survivor’s guilt/mental health, which you don’t see a lot. The animation is great and the soundtrack is done by Hiroyuki Sawano, who’s amazing and it’s one of the best soundtracks for a show ever.

Trigger Warnings: Child Abuse, Graphic Depictions of Cruelty/Violence/Gore, Racism, Suicide.

A main subject of the show is racism. Active war, lots of violence. Character acts without regard for their life, so suicide was included. Child abuse relates to the backstory of a character.

If you’re reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

[msclaritea]

Where to Watch ‘Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve with Ryan Seacrest’ — 2024 Edition

Blind Items Revealed #2

February 10, 2017

With his popularity waning because he is not on television each week, this A list mogul is threatening to pull his production deal with the parent company unless he gets back on the air now. Thirsty f**ker. Always likes you to think he prefers being behind the scenes. Nope. His ego is HUUUUUUGE. So, now the company is going to overpay for a worn out franchise from a different network.

Ryan Seacrest/American Idol/NBC

Blind Items Revealed #5

July 13, 2021

Except for making some things blind items, I have left it entirely in the words of the tipster.

I was invited to spend time this past Memorial weekend hanging out with this animator/writer/illustrator/one hit wonder (#1) who had a short lived series on this almost network several years ago. The show attracted a significant cult following when it aired on (#2) and this person still has a strong fan base within his subsection of pop culture. To this day, he never appears out in public where he might be recognized or allows any photos to be taken without wearing his signature disguise that he’s worn since the inception of his show. (He didn’t wear it Memorial weekend when out with me. I completely didn’t recognize him when I first saw him.) Everything online, including his Wikipedia bio, is fake and written by him. He will do anything and everything to keep people from knowing any personal info about him. He desperately attempts to project his age much younger than his 54 years and while his real first name is very close to his fake persona, his last name is not.

To say that he is a horribly racist individual doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of his deep seated racism. A very nice and genuine friend of his that I met last year, he refers to as, “that rich Jew”. He believes everyone in the Little Armenia section of LA hates white people. He was upset that his neighborhood is being “invaded by Mexicans”. A kind friend of his, who happens to manage a very popular bar, graciously let us cut to the front of the line to get in because he was getting angrier and angrier at having to wait. When talking about his friend that got us in the bar, he continually made disparaging comments about the fact that the guy only dates black men. He repeatedly said throughout the weekend that he doesn’t like inviting this person to his house for parties because he brings a boyfriend and hates having black people in his house.

He texted me Sunday afternoon and inquired about lunch and thrift shopping (something we have in common). I said sure and hoped that Saturday’s deplorable behavior was just due to having an off day. Nope. As soon as I picked him up, he was in a horrid mood. When I called him out on it, he said that he could just not talk to me at all (tempting but awkward). He asked what I had done all morning. I told him the fun I had and the great places in LA I visited. He laughed and said he thought I was probably sitting in my hotel room waiting for him to call. (Pro tip: when in LA be sure to visit the immersive art exhibit at Cakeland LA.) I suggested we eat lunch at El Coyote. I had always wanted to eat there. He got more irate and asked who I thought I was that I could pick where we ate. Not wanting to argue with someone with the temperament of a four year old, I let him pick lunch. While waiting for our food he asks me who I think is gay in LA. (I’ve been an avid reader of CDAN for over a decade; I know my Hollywood gays.) First name that comes to mind is the mogul (#3). He says he’s heard that #3 might be gay. Next up on my list is the talk show host/game show creator (#4)’s ex boy toy, (#5). He says that he has met #5 numerous times and there is no way he can be gay because he is so nice and gives back to the community. (That may be true but Helen Keller could tell #5 is gay.) I tell him I’ve always thought this A+ list mostly movie actor (#6) was gay. He replied with the antiquated and false notion that #6 can’t be gay because he’s married with kids. He wasn’t joking. He actually believes this! While we were dining outside, he randomly starts yelling at me out of nowhere. People stopped eating and were staring until I told him to calm down because someone was going to call the police on him. His ability to go from zero to unhinged, screaming rage is only surpassed in speed by JLo’s ability to call the paps when lunching with Ben.

After lunch, we went thrift shopping. The first spot we hit, he found a book he wanted to buy. It was $2.75. At the counter, when told the price, he said he didn’t have any cash. I stepped up and paid for the book. As soon as I got outside, I was berated for paying for the book. He said he had cash and he told the sales clerk he didn’t to see if he could get the book for less money. It was $2.75. The money was going to a charitable organization! He literally complained about everything, including his constant inability, due to his size, to easily get out of my rental car, a Ford Mustang. He argued that getting out of my own car, a Mini Cooper, would be much easier. (No way.)

After I dropped him off at home, I had a delightful dinner at El Coyote. I decided that there was no way I could spend another nanosecond with him. Life is too short to waste time with someone like this. I used my points on Southwest to fly to CA. To change my flight to an earlier one would have cost me over 28,000 points. I called Southwest and asked if I could please change my flight and not be charged the additional points. The customer service rep said she would need a reason to tell her supervisor why an exception should be made. I told her who I spent my weekend with and what had transpired. Southwest allowed me to change my flight without using any of my points; even they realized what an ass he is. I do feel sorry for his long suffering partner and the unmitigated nightmare it must be to live with him. He’s looking to restart his career with another series. Miraculously, he got a pitch meeting with some executives at Amazon. To the surprise of no one but himself, there was never a second meeting. This man is a vile, narcissistic human being.

#6 - George Clooney

#1 - Angus Oblong

#2 - "Adult Swim"

#3 - David Geffen

#4 - Merv Griffin

#5 - Ryan Seacrest

#6 - George Clooney

Blind Items Revealed #4

November 28, 2023

Apparently the wannabe Ryan Seacrest and the launch of his new venture was sparsely attended. They were expecting hundreds of people and got maybe a dozen.

Mario Lopez/Shoe collection

[bubbleslimesoda]

Sharing My Story

Trigger Warning for mentions of: Eating disorders, abuse, emotional blackmail, self harm, threats of  suicide, sexual assault, physical assault, racism, homophobia/bigotry ideals and manipulation

^Please only read if you have read the warning!^

I’ve been wanting to talk about this for some times as it has been so many years and yet I still get PTSD from this.

When I was 15-16 I was in a relationship with someone I’ll just call ‘that guy’/‘guy’ (I don’t even want to give him a creative name). I will also specify that he is the same age as me although when I started dating him I was told by a doctor that my mental age was apparently ��half my actual age”.

Now I can’t even remember how this relationship started because to me it felt like “Oh we’ve been hanging out for a long time, I guess we’re going out now” also just to make it clear I had only been in one other relationship before this one and I’d felt the same way, I currently identify as grey aro/ace although I still question myself on it.

And a small detail about before this relationship, I had actually witnessed ‘that guy’ grab a half full bottle of water and hold a student while repeatedly hitting them really really hard with it, idk why at the time I didn’t see this as a red flag but then again I was about 14-15.

In this relationship at first I was told to be quiet about it unless I’d expressed how it made me feel sad as I was to feel like ‘that guy’ was ashamed of me for some reason.

I don’t want to go into full detail of every single thing that happened as it was very traumatic so the less I think about it the better. I’m going to make a list of things that happened instead.

• Kicked me in the head

• Hit me on my lower back

• Pulled my arm so hard my shoulder was in pain for a few weeks

• Bullied my ex and tried to convince me that my ex assaulted me

• Told me that I was “practically a boy” because I was bi (I wasn’t at the time) and that he was a girl because he was bi (Just pointing out how he seems to associate someone’s sexually with their gender identity)

• Would start an argument if I show little discomfort/felt upset by something he did or said

• Said he would kill my favourite tv show characters if he got the chance (I’m autistic and I think you can see why telling an autistic teen this is pretty fucked up)

• Made fun of and got angry at me for my autistic traits such as not liking loud sounds, bright lights and repetitive sounds and motion

• Referred to my eating disorder, ARFID as “being a picky eater” and when I expressed it upset me he showed no remorse and said he was “just joking”

• Putting words in my mouth. For example if he asked “Why would someone suddenly be acting different?” And I would reply “Idk. A big change in their life, loss of someone close, drugs, alcohol, into something new, money?” He would turn around say I was accusing him of doing drugs (I really don’t know how he would make those stretches)

• Manipulated me into acting in a way that was more sexual than what I was comfortable with

• Would then tell me off for said behaviour but then would make remarks or show disinterest in me when I stopped

• Touched me without permission or while I was asleep even though I had expressed discomfort or even said no (I would wake up from it or have noticeable signs of it when I woke up)

• Made jokes about Asian people’s eyes

• Isolated me from friends and made it so I could only be friends with his friends

• Threats of self harm and taking his own life when he wouldn’t get his way

I know that was long and thank you if you’ve read this far. This is very hard for me to write as I keep needing to take breaks to calm myself down.

When I was 15-16 I was very into Rick and Morty and I suggested it to ‘that guy’ since I genuinely thought he would like it. He said we’d watched it before but I pointed out that he was never paying attention to which he just seemed to flip out about. I told him it wasn’t going to work to which he threatened self harm and worse so I agreed to stay with him. The next day he then “broke up with me” as far as I was concerned it had already ended when I said it wasn’t going to work but we still tried to be friends.

After that I had so many nice and kind people come back into my life which I was a very emotional thing for me because it felt like I was asleep or cut off from reality before hand. It seemed that the rest of the school knew about ‘guy’s’ behaviour as no one wanted to talk to him or be friends with him after everything, we could just stand in this corner staring at me and my friends while texting as we spent our breaks talking and such.

A few days after it happened I was sat with my friends and suddenly got a call from my mum saying that ‘guy’s’ parents had called her saying that I had been bullying him to which I had to point out that no, I wasn’t bullying him. I was just sitting with my friends and talking while ‘that guy’ was staring at us in a corner.

After that I did my exams and went to college only to find out that ‘guy’ had copied me on what course I was taking, I had actual helped him get into a different course to me but he still decided to take the course I was taking.

Now I did try to be civil, I didn’t acknowledge him or talk about him/to him until he asked if we could be friends(I was 16 at the time btw, I’m the UK you go to college at about 16 and then uni after about 3 years). I foolishly said yes.

One day my friend who I’d met in that course who had ME was going to be late and was worried about being seated near someone who kept messaging them about drinking and made them uncomfortable. I had a different class before our one so I asked ‘that guy’ if he could save them a seat and he said no which I was fine with but then he went on to say that I was “bullying him by asking him to save them a seat” and after I told him that’s not how it worked he said “I wouldn’t let him be bi while we were dating”, I was actually very supportive and happy for him during that time. I told him repeatedly to leave me alone and blocked him.

Now for this last bit I’m going to go back about it. Before we started dating he was dating another girl who had left our school due to depression and I was actually close with her and I was very sad and worried when she left. Idk how they broke up but the girl was at my college and I was so relieved and happy that she was okay I went to say hello to her. She screamed at me and I went home that day because someone had told me that ‘guy’ had “told everyone I abused him”(I also found out that she started dating ‘guy’), this was so overwhelming and upsetting that it is actually what started my PTSD.

Despite what I had managed to survive, doing the right thing by not talking to him or about him (apart from to two close friends at the time) and worrying about someone for years who I had no contact with I was now being accused of this horrible horrible thing that I had to live through. I even struggled to stand properly that day because of how scared, breathless and distraught I felt. I had even become terrified of saying his name because that’s how much hearing or saying it would fill me with fear.

They were reported and felt with for what had happened but for the rest of the year ‘guy’ and his girlfriend harassed and bullied me and they even harassed my mother at certain points. It was the worst first year of college I think anyone could’ve had and I would never wish it on anyone.

After that I went into the next year being in a different group to him(it’s also where I met my current best friend)and then the following year the groups merged but it seemed he didn’t have any friends again and I had actually made friends with some of the people he told I was abusive. One even said while I was helping them at their house “I’m sorry that I believed him, you’re actually really sweet and nice” which felt amazing to hear after all that trauma.

Today I still suffer with really bad PTSD attacks related to what happened before and during that first year of college. I guess I get paranoid that maybe the same thing will happen again somehow in the future so making this post is my way of venting about this, and bringing awareness to it as I know I’m not the only one who has been abused only to have that person tell you “it’s your fault” or “you’re actually the abusive one” despite having had to deal with similar or even the same thing as me. And people like ‘that guy’ will always be around trying to snake their way back into your life just to hurt you or make themselves a victim just so they don’t have to feel bad about what they did to you.

To finish this off I want to sort of say what I would to my younger self, dealing with what happened.

I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you and I’m sorry that you suffered. From the bottom of my heart and everything I am, I am sorry. You deserve better than what happened to you and don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. I know you put yourself down a lot but you are going to make some amazing things and meet amazing people who love you and care for you. Don’t let this hold you back, you are more than this horrible thing that happened to you so don’t let it consume you. You are loved and capable of so much. Don’t ever stop being your happy silly and imaginative self, I love that side of you and I will not stop loving you. Please take care of yourself.

[rjalker]

[ID: Two gifs from the show Miraculous: The Adventures of Ladybug and Chat Noir, from the episode Optigami.

The first gif shows Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir, a hero who wears a black outfit, with a black domino mask and black cat ears, glares at his phone as he hands up, snarling with his teeth bared and his hand trembling on the phone, “A two person team? There’s only one two person team, and that’s Ladybug and me!” He stands and spins around, lifting his weapon over his head with an exclamation of rage. He brings the weapon down on the chimney behind him, smashing it into dust. He stands, and glares down at the destruction.

The second gif shows Adrien’s father, Gabriel Agreste, a white man with grey hair, wearing a white and grey suit, and a red and white striped tie, standing inside the room of a mansion with a chandelier and expensive carpet in the background, holding an electronic tablet. He is shouting in rage, “Ladybug never makes a mistake!”, and is so angry he is trembling. His grip on the tablet is clenched so violently that the screen breaks, causing the image to glitch before the gif restarts.

End ID.]

You know, even if they were doing this on purpose, and they were showing us these parallels between Adrien and Gabriel on purpose to show how Adrien’s behavior is getting worse and worse as the show goes on, because they’re doing it purposefully to give him a villainization arc.....

Even if we give them the benefit of the doubt, instead of assuming that this is pure, stupid, unintended irony, it is too gods damned late. Even if they miraculously plan to have Adrien become a villain and are going to portray his villainization arc as a bad thing, the damage has been fucking done.

They’ve spent four seasons telling children that sexual harassment is okay as long as it’s a rich white pretty boy doing it.

This is not some cinematic masterpeice where they’re showing us how far Adrien has fallen and how much farther he has left to fall.

This is the writers not knowing what the fuck they’re doing.

They show us Adrien lashing out violently in anger, in the same episode that they also showcase his father doing the exact thing.

It’d be great writing..........except at this point we all know it’s not. They didn’t do this on purpose.

They want us to like Adrien. They want us to think Adrien is a good person. They want us to think he’s perfect and the best hero who has ever existed.

Adrien is more like his father than he knows or any of his stans would like to admit, and the fact that the writers are showing us this by accident is just. fucking pathetic. And hilarious.

Anyways.

Yeah, it looks like the cycle of abuse is going to continue with Adrien happily leading the charge, because, as the show has told us multiple times now, out loud, the only person Adrien cares about himself. The only thing Adrien cares about is how he can have the most fun.

Even when that means hurting other people, even when that means sexually harassing the protagonist for four fucking seasons straight now. Even if that means endangering the lives of civilians, even if that means threatening to quit and sitting on his ass while people are drowning, even if that means he acts exactly the way a villain would, just by a different name.

Adrien Agreste is not a good person, and he’s literally not even deserving of the title “sidekick”. He can’t even be called an antihero, because that would require him to be a bad person on purpose as the point.

But no, the writers are racist white men who think sexual harassment and racism is hilarious.

I’ve said it before and I’ll keep saying it. The only reason Adrien Agreste isn’t a villain in this story is because it is written by racist white 45 year old men who think sexual harassment is the height of romance.

[leonardhoee]

A Rant About Ikesen’s Treatment of Motonari

I’ve been away from tumblr for a while but I had to come back for this.

So something I’ve noticed throughout playing Ikesen is the way that the game is very biased agains Motonari and I think it needs to be addressed because he is the only brown character and his portrayal is full of harmful stereotypes against brown men. I love this game but I haven't seen a single person acknowledge how badly Motonari is treated by the creators and the fandom as a result of that.

Also any racist comments will be blocked.

Possible route spoilers under the cut…

So lets start with the obvious, he is the only dark skinned character in Ikesen and when I first started playing I was so happy about that because finally (regardless of his ethnicity which honestly in this portrayal of him can be up for debate, I HC him as south East Asian) we are getting some representation. Throughout the game though I started noticing a lot of harmful stereotypes being thrown onto him that none of the other characters face.

Both him and Nobunaga are relatively misogynistic, I’m not denying that at all. However the way it is portrayed in their routes is very different. Nobunaga should in fact have sexual harassment charges, yet its romanticized repeatedly throughout his route. Motonari on the other hand treated MC as a possession the same way Nobunaga did, however he is shown as aggressive and scary as opposed to Nobunaga being shown as sexy and romantic.

There is also a difference in their respective CG’s 

Motonari’s CG is shown much more threatening and aggressive than Nobunaga’s

That brings me to my next point. Every other antagonist so far is shown to have a gentle and redeemable side. Kenshin threatened to wage war on the whole country while keeping MC locked in a cell yet he is still shown to be gentle and romantic. Kennyo repeatedly kidnaps and threatens MC’s life in other routes yet he is shown as a gentle monk who just wants revenge for his fallen brethren. Why doesn't Motonari get that level of consideration and empathy? Why is he, the only brown man, shown as an aggressive two-dimensional brute in every single route that isn’t his own? And this is a harmful stereotype that shows itself in all kinds of media. Brown men are depicted as predatory and aggressive both in fiction and real life.

This leads me to his ethnicity (I’m only talking about Ikesen’s portrayal of Motonari, I am well aware he was a Japanese warlord irl). In his route there is a part where he is talking about slavery and colonialism. As a South Asian woman I completely understand his perspective and its what got me thinking about this subject in the first place.

This subject is clearly personal to him. These lines, the way he looks as opposed to the other characters, and the fact that he speaks Spanish (around this time period the Philippines were being colonized by Spain), leads me to head cannon him as South East Asian, specifically Filipino. However, historically, Motonari comes from a region of Southern Japan, which is known as Hiroshima today. Cybird meant to market him as Okinawan. A large part of the reason Motonari is being treated this way by Cybird stems from the fact that people from Okinawa face racism from mainland Japan. Considering the fact that this game was made in Japan, and knowing what we know about their history of colonization, racism, and east asian beauty standards revolving around colorism, I am honestly not surprised that Motonari is being portrayed like this.

Until now they just showed his reason for fighting the Oda to be “oh I just want to watch the world burn for no reason”. But no that’s not the reason. These lines. That’s the reason. A lot of the context behind those lines comes from the fact that comes from because people from mainland Japan treated Okinawan people as slaves. He doesn’t want to see another colonizer come into power. Sure he’s a bit of an extremist but historically people who have this ideology have always been portrayed as savage and barbaric and “against the betterment of society” (think Jet from atla or even Malcom x). It’s no different in ikesen. The devs are clearly villainizing this ideology. Let’s not forget the fact that irl Hideyoshi invaded Korea. And the fact that anime and otome games are part of Japan’s way of erasing their war crimes and rebranding themselves to the rest of the world. It’s blatantly obvious here with the way they’re villainizing Motonari for having a perfectly valid reason to fight the Oda. If Japan stays divided they can’t invade and colonize other countries like the Philippines can they? Anti-colonialism = bad. 

Lastly I want to talk about how they downplayed his abilities as a leader and a warlord in his own right. In all the other routes he is depicted as less educated and frankly “dumb”, and it shows itself in his speech patterns too. Compared to Nobunaga and Mitsuhide, Motonari’s speech is stereotypically “less educated” and “lower class”. Yet he is just as much of a leader as any of the other warlords. However instead of acknowledging that, the game chooses to focus on his crimes and behavior as a pirate, instead of his role as the head of the Mouri clan.

At one point Kicho even compares his intelligence to a fifth grader which just rubs me the wrong way because lets take a moment to actually look at Motonari’s abilities. He is multilingual, has knowledge of global politics and economics, is an amazing businessman, and extremely analytical. He is literally known as the God of Decit, yet I did not hear that name once until his route came out. His strategies are good enough to be called a god, yet that is completely buried in the other routes in order to simplify his character into a trigger happy psychopath and a violent brute. He is just as smart as Nobunaga yet he is not given the credit he deserves.

Both Motonari and Nobunaga are extremely similar yet because of the horribly biased portrayals, Motonari is one of the least popular characters whereas Nobunaga is the second most popular. It makes me angry to see people in the fandom choosing to blindly hate Motonari without recognizing the fact that this stems from a frankly racist portrayal of an extremely intelligent and powerful character. Although truthfully, I blame the devs because if they had given his character even half the consideration and depth the others got, this would not be the case. 

You can disagree with me if you want. I am simply bringing attention to something I haven’t seen being addressed.

I hope in future routes, events, and sequels he is treated better by the devs and and the fandom. Please stop projecting racist stereotypes onto brown men.

[thomasshelbydrabbles]

The Messenger (1/22)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Adeline Taylor (OC)

Warnings: period typical sexism, series typical violence, period typical views of PTSD, period typical racism, blood and gore

Summary: Secrets from Adeline Taylor’s past threaten the life she’d been building with Thomas Shelby. Tommy has plans of his own, plans to expand his family, and his business. Not even the demons from Adeline’s past will get in his way. (Loosely follows the events from Season 2, but picks up at the end of The School Teacher) *This is a series, so you should read The School Teacher first if you want to understand everything.*

Note: As the show does, I am loosely using actual events and people from WW1 and other time periods represented in the show. These are fictionalized versions of both events and the people.

Word Count: 4,269

A/N: Here it is lovelies!! The first part of the next installment. I’ve used the tag list from The School Teacher - if you’d like to be removed or added just drop me a note. Enjoy.

France, 1914

Adeline hummed to herself as she rolled bandages. They’d finally gotten more supplies once the troops were able to break through the fighting. They’d spent a long week in the trench. And the better part of a month rebuilding the hospital. Most of the remaining nurses had haunted looks in their eyes. Adeline supposed hers looked the same, but she tried to keep a smile on her face for the men. When she closed her eyes, she still saw the doctor run out of the trench and right into a barrage of artillery fire. The way his body had moved left and right, back and forth as bullets riddled his body kept her up some nights. 

“There you are, pet.” 

She smiled as she turned to face her favorite patient. “And what are you doing up and walking about? Thought I told you to rest.” 

“I’m not so good at resting, yeah? It makes my brain go a bit crazy with thoughts and plans and the like. Need to keep myself moving. ‘M bones have healed.” 

Scowling at him, she closed the distance between them. She tapped the side of his knee with the bundle of bandages in her hand. Alfie winced at the impact, glaring up at her. 

“Ouch.” 

“‘Bones have healed’ he says,” Adeline mocked.  “If you’re going to make a nuisance of yourself, you can help me get things set to rights here. I can keep my eye on you, make sure you don’t die on me.” 

Alfie smiled at her as he moved to help her restock the supplies from the crates brought in the same trucks that transported fresh recruits from home. She ignored the pain in her chest, knowing they’d use everything they’d sent…and would likely run out before more supplies came. Knowing some of those boys would return home in the same crate that once contained bandages and munitions. 

“I’ll be moving out soon. Need to return to my men, make sure they’ve not made a mess of things. Godless things they are, always making a mess of it all.” 

“It’ll be less lively without you around,” Adeline told him. “Although, I do believe I’ll get more done without you always hovering over my shoulder.” 

“Don’t mind me, pet. I’ve a personal interest in your continued existence. Now, you’re not Jewish, so you’re a hopeless, godless creature, right, but I like you.” 

Adeline laughed as she watched him stack fresh linens on the shelves. “Oh you do know how to pay a girl a compliment, Mr. Solomons.” 

He frowned, his whole face contorting with it. “Don’t like that. Don’t like that at all, right. See, me mum, yeah? Me mum always called me dad Mister Solomons when he’d done something to upset her, and she said it a lot me mum did, so I’ll not have you sounding like me mum.” 

“You’re the one who decided there’s a life-debt between us, so now you’re stuck with me - no matter what I call you.” 

Adeline enjoyed the way Alfie smiled at her. He scowled at everyone else, always shouting, always loud, but with her, he smiled. It was the sort that took over his whole face, changed his entire countenance. Not that she’d ever say it to him, but he reminded her a bit of the grumpy cat that roamed the streets near her house, a giant ginger beast that hissed at everyone, especially at her mother, but purred under her touch. 

“Nurse Taylor?” 

She glanced up. An officer she didn’t recognize stood at the door. Scowl on his face, Alfie hobbled closer to her, and she smiled at him. He’d become her shadow since she’d patched him up, always keeping himself between her and anything that might think about causing her harm.

“Aye?” 

“You’re needed, ma’am.” 

“Do we have more wounded?” Adeline asked as she handed the pile of bandages to Alfie. 

“No.” 

Adeline furrowed her brow in confusion but followed the officer out of the storage room. She was led to one of the newly constructed buildings. Taking in her surroundings, she snorted. They couldn’t get bandages and antiseptic, but whoever this was could have an ornately carved oak desk, leather trimmed high back chair, and multiple decanters of whiskey. 

“Do you not like the desk?” 

She startled at the sound of a deep voice, hand over her racing heart. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

Adeline took in his features. He stood tall, imposing with thick brown hair, brown eyes so dark it was hard to locate the pupil, full beard on his face, thick eyebrows. Something about the way he answered her felt wrong. She tilted her head, watched him watch her. He didn’t blink, didn’t fidget under her scrutiny. His look crawled over her skin like spiders; she pinched the material of her skirt to keep her fingers from fidgeting. He waited for her to respond, an air of expectancy on his face - a man accustomed to being treated with a certain level of respect, of fear. 

“The desk is a bit pretentious for a war zone,” Adeline responded. 

He grinned, but it wasn’t pleasant, made his face harder, sharper at the edges. “From your perspective,” he inclined his head. “I imagine it is, Miss Taylor.” 

“My perspective?” her voice was arch. Oh how her mother would scold her for her tone, but she’d lived through too much to care one whit about what this man thought of her. She was already in hell, not much else they could do to make it worse for her. “What could you possibly know about my perspective sitting behind that fancy desk of yours?” 

He lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I’d offer you a drink, but given your reaction to my desk, I doubt you’ll have any interest in my 18-year-old scotch.” 

She laughed bitterly. “I’ve patched together boys no older than your bloody drink.”

“As I thought, a no.” 

Barely restraining herself from rolling her eyes, another habit her mother worked hard to beat out of her, she held his gaze. Unsure why she felt the need to prove something to this man she’d just met, but when in doubt, she followed her gut. 

“You wanted to see me about something…sir?” 

“Yes, yes, introductions. I know you, of course, but I’ve been remiss in introducing myself. My name is George Bergmann.” 

The same sense of wrong settled in her as he introduced himself. 

“What is it you want with me, Mister Bergmann?” 

He sat at his desk, leaned back, crossed his arms across his chest and studied her for a long moment, something like interest in his eyes. Instead of fidgeting like she wanted to, she squared her shoulders, planted her heels, and met his gaze dead on. Oh her mother would be horrified, would scold her for her lack of decorum, for not lowering her eyes demurely. The realization brightened her spirits considerably. Maybe one day she’d quit hearing the sound of her mother’s voice in her head.  

“Do I amuse you?”

She shook her head, noted the lack of amusement in his own tone. “No. I was thinking about me mum. She would be quite disappointed in my behavior. I find I quite like that thought.” 

“You’ll be perfect.” 

The smile on his face gave her pause. Before he’d been almost playful, but now there was a coldness to him. 

“For now, you’ll move with Captain Solomons to Calais. Settle in, do your routine nursing duties.” 

The feeling of wrong returned to her gut. She’d known a gravedigger as a child. At her mother’s insistence, she’d spent a lot of her time around the priory - she’d seemed desperate to save Adeline’s soul or something equally ridiculous - and in an attempt to avoid the notice of the vicar, she’d wandered the grounds frequently, hiding herself behind the large headstones. During her wanderings, she spotted the gravedigger, watched him work; she found him fascinating. One day, he yelled at her for walking past an open grave, hopping over the bottom corner. She’d never seen him angry; he usually greeted her with a grin and a touch of his hat. To this day, she could see the wide-eyed terror on his face, the white-knuckled grip he had on his shovel. He ranted about ill omens and twice deaths. As a child, she had no idea how to process his words, what any of it meant. Now though? Looking at George Bergmann felt exactly like walking past that open grave. 

“All of this just to have me reassigned?” 

“No, no,” he shook his hand. “Of course not. You’ll also be delivering this.” 

He pulled a small note from his inside coat pocket and held it out to her. When she reached forward to take it, he snatched it back. 

“No reading the note, Miss Taylor. Simply take it with you, keep it hidden. I’ll collect it from you when I arrive.” 

With what was clearly meant as a dismissal, he turned back to the papers on his desk. 

“There’s a war on, and you want me to carry a note to Calais only to return the very same note to you?” 

He glanced up at her. “That’s exactly what I want you to do.” 

With a shrug, she turned to leave. As she reached the door, he called her name; her hand froze on the handle. She glanced over her shoulder. 

“Best you don’t let anyone know you have the note, hm?”

 London, 1920

Adeline looked around her with wide eyes. The way people moved to the jazzy beat reminded her of how the doctor had looked that day he ran from the trench and into the bullets. It was as though they had no control over their arms, no bones in their back. How did they not get a headache from the way they thrashed their bodies back and forth? 

“What the fuck is this racket?” Arthur grumbled.

“This is what they call music these days, brother,” Tommy answered.

Adeline shot Arthur a wink. “I agree with you. It’s just a bunch of noise, isn’t it? Something to drown out the sound of the voices in their heads.” 

Tommy curled his hand around her hip as they moved through the crowd. He’d always been tactile with her, but since Worcester he rarely left her side. When they’d been in Camden Town discussing things with Alfie, (even when they’d been arguing, shouting at each other) he’d sat next to her with his hand resting on her knee, her thigh. Of course, Alfie simply smirked at her, a knowing little grin tucked into the corner of his cheek. She wanted to be annoyed with them both, but having people look out for her, care for her - while unfamiliar - felt nice, so she indulged them.

“Watch yourself,” John growled as a drunk club-goer knocked into him. He shoved the offender out of the way, watching the man stumble into a nearby table.

Adeline rolled her eyes. Honestly. The boys couldn’t be taken anywhere. How Polly’d dealt with them as children she’d never understand. 

Everywhere she looked something caught her eye. The whole venue seemed designed to overstimulate her senses. To her it was an odd choice. Why overstimulate people who were already being stimulated by drinks and opioids? God she missed the Garrison.  

“Let me guess,” Tommy whispered in her ear. “You still prefer the Garrison.” 

She grinned up at him. “Aye, but I plan to enjoy myself tonight. You promised me a party.” 

“I’m a man of my word.” 

They caught up with John and Arthur who had curious looks on their faces as they looked down at a couple sitting at a table near the stage. Glancing down she couldn’t hold the laugh back once she saw the young woman had her hand wrapped around her date’s cock. A handie. Right there in the middle of the club. London. 

“Put it away,” Tommy barked.

They startled apart at the sound of his voice. The young man glanced up at Adeline and licked his lips. From the corner of her eye, she caught John’s hand moving up to his head. She put her arm out, blocking John from moving in on them. She bent forward, saw the dilation of the kid’s pupils and wanted to slap him for being an idiot. 

“Fuck off,” she said. “Or I’ll cut your balls off myself.” 

His date blinked up at her slowly, but appeared to be a bit more alert as she tugged on his arm, dragging him from the table. She knew Tommy and John were exchanging what she’d dubbed the Peaky Look. No doubt by tomorrow the boy would wish he’d just stayed home. No handie was worth the beating he’d receive. With stupid grins on their faces, the boys settled at the table.     

“What?” John asked as he noted the frown on her face.

“Feeling proud of yourself?” she asked. “He’s just a stupid boy.” 

“Yeah, and tomorrow he’ll be smarter for it,” John told her as he stuck a toothpick between his teeth. “Thought you believed in educatin’ people, Addie?” 

She took a seat next to Tommy who wisely kept out of their argument, but she could tell he was amused by the slight smirk on his face. 

“Aye. I do. One day, Johnny-boy, I’ll educate you on me name and how to say it properly.” 

“I know your name, but how is it I’m the only one without a nickname for you, right? Even fucking Alfie’s got one for you, but not me? Fuck that.” 

She rolled her eyes. Ever since they’d met Alfie, John and Arthur had been extra…something. As though they felt they needed to prove their status with her. As though any of them could be replaced. Idiots. 

“You jealous of Alfie?”

John scowled at her. They both knew it wasn't exactly jealousy, but it was a sort of territoriality - the Shelby boys all felt the insane need to reestablish their place in her life now that they understood the nature of her bond with Alfie. The only one who remained unaffected was Tommy, but she attributed that to the fact that he’d already had his bout of testosterone fueled idiocy. That, and his ring was back on her finger. 

“Irish whiskey, bottle!” Tommy hollered as he flagged down a waiter. 

As she looked around the room, she noted familiar faces. Most of the faces belonged to Sabini because it was his club. She watched the way the patrons interacted, saw the way the women, most of whom were probably not actual whores, acted as though they were. Desperation tinged the air, desperate for a feeling, for an experience, for something. She saw one woman nearly sitting on a man’s lap, his hand up her skirt while she literally poured his drink into his mouth. Yet, his eyes were on the conversation happening between the other men at the table. The woman might as well have been the decorative lamp sitting on the table. 

“You see Sabini’s cousin over there?” Adeline asked. 

Tommy nodded. His eyes scanned the room. She’d always admired that about him, wondered if it’d been the war that taught him to keep his head on a swivel or if he’d been born with it, something innate to him, to Tommy. The ability had kept him alive, trained him to be one step ahead of whatever was coming, because someone was always coming. 

“He’s bucking for a seat at the table. Thinks because he’s blood he gets an automatic voice. Arrogant little shit,” Adeline told Tommy. “And he’s eyeing me like a fucking tart.” 

“It’s all faces in here,” John said. “This isn’t exactly a subtle move, Tom.” 

Tommy smirked. “Not here for subtle.” 

Adeline snorted, ignoring the slanted look Tommy gave here. “Where the fuck is our whiskey?” 

As though summoned by her question, a man with a pleasant smile and an air of false authority came up to the table. Must be the manager then. Adeline reached across Tommy’s body and pulled the box of cigarettes from his pocket. Her eyes flicked up to one of the nervous looking young servers who’d come with the important, gold vest wearing manager. 

“Got a light?” she winked at the poor boy, who fumbled in his pocket before producing a matchbook. Taking a long drag from the cigarette she eyed the men with open curiosity. 

The manager in the gold vest cleared his throat. The Shelby’s mostly ignored him, but she caught Tommy glancing at him from the corner of his eye. He leaned forward, placed his hand on the back of Arthur’s chair and Adeline hid her laugh behind the cigarette. Brave man this manager, to put himself that close to a table full of Shelbys, to put his arm touching Arthur Shelby. Stupid, but brave. 

“Gentlemen, I’m afraid there’s been a mistake. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Just stupid then, she amended in her head as she continued to smoke her cigarette. Sometimes being the woman, and being ignored by…everyone suited her just fine; it was like going to the pictures and watching the action play out in front of her. Still, she had been promised a party.

“But we’ve just ordered a bottle, and I’m quite thirsty,” Adeline complained as she pouted up at the man. She thought she heard Arthur snicker, but it could have been a cough. 

The man smiled at her in what she assumed he thought looked friendly, but made her want to hit him with her shoe. “It’s only the gentlemen that have to leave. You’ve been invited to stay and join Mr. Harry Sabini for a drink.” 

Adeline smiled at the manager before turning once more to face Tommy. She glared down at him, and his bored expression. “This is a lousy date. Thought you boys said you could get in anywhere?” 

“We got in, love,” Tommy drawled. “Never said anythin’ about stayin’.” 

She huffed dramatically as she stood from the table, snubbing out her cigarette. “Well, I’m stayin’. I want a drink and a dance. This Mister Sabini is gonna show me a good time tonight.” 

Tommy smirked, slowly rolling his head up to glance at her. “That what you want, eh? A good time?” 

She nodded her head, a coy smile on her face. 

“Well go on then,” Tommy told her with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Go on and have a good time with the fucking wops.” 

“Gentlemen,” the manager interrupted. “These men, they recognize you from the racetracks in the north.” 

“He works with horses,” Adeline told the manager, as she caressed Tommy’s arm. “I love horses.” 

“They say you have no business coming south of the line without prior agreement,” the manager continued, ignoring Adeline entirely. 

Releasing Tommy’s arm, she stood to her feet and stomped her foot. “You just going to ignore me?” 

As expected, both Tommy and the manager did exactly that. With a last wink at John, who smirked around the toothpick in his mouth, she grabbed her bag and walked over to where Harry Sabini sat surrounded by women. Luckily none of them were currently giving him a handie. The smile he gave her sat her teeth on edge, but she returned it with one of her own. 

“I’ve been admiring you all night, sweetheart. I’m glad to see you’ve decided to improve your company for the evening.” 

“I was told you’d buy me a drink?” 

He pushed back from the chair and patted his lap. Internally screaming she rounded the table and perched herself delicately on his knee. As expected, he wrapped an arm around her waist, hand unnecessarily brushing against the side of her breast, and pulled her against his body, slotting her legs between his. Her hand landed on his chest. 

“That’s better, sweetheart.” 

Adeline blinked up at him, noted the dullness in his eyes. Either from too much to drink or just being stupid - didn’t matter to her, but she did wonder why Alfie was having such difficulty with Sabini if men like this were his kin. She ignored the way Harry’s hand landed on her knee, the way it bunched up the material of her skirt. Shame. She’d liked this dress, but burning it would be the only option now. 

“Gonna buy me a drink, handsome?” 

The girl, who must be this fool’s date, glared up at Adeline. If only she knew, but a woman like her, dressed in feathers and jewels with a fucking ivory cigarette holder of the appropriate length for a night out, needn’t worry about Adeline. That didn’t keep her from smirking triumphantly when Harry gestured for her to pour Adeline a drink. Leaning forward, providing Harry with the last good view he’d have in this life, she took the champagne glass from the woman with an air kiss. 

Just as she’d drained the glass, she heard someone yell “Peaky scum!” and all hell broke loose. The woman dove under the table as fights occurred all around them. Adeline snatched the ice bucket and smashed it across Harry’s face. As he fell to the floor, Adeline followed, straddling his hips as she pulled the switchblade Polly’d given to her for the races from her purse. 

“You fucking bitch!”

Adeline held the blade to his throat. “Fucking Italian fuck.” She nicked his skin, heard him hiss in a breath. “Alfie Solomons says hi.” 

She thrust the knife up through his chin, watched the blade split through his mouth, pierced his tongue, continued pushing up until the tip lodged in his soft palate. His blood covered her hand, stained the edges of the shoulder wrap that had pooled at her elbows. She’d told Tommy not to spend so much on the fucking dress. 

“Best you’ve looked all night, sweetheart,” she told him. 

A sob grabbed her attention. The girl who’d been sitting next to him stared up at her with wide eyes filled with unshed tears. “Y-you’ve killed him.” 

“Aye,” Adeline answered as she pulled the knife free. It made a wet sound that made the girl flinch. “Too quickly for my taste, but apparently we’re in a hurry tonight. Not sure why the boys get all the fun and I’m stuck down here being the fucking messenger.” 

“You killed him.” 

Adeline closed her eyes. Shock did strange things to people. Maybe now the girl would go on home to her parents and forget about spending her nights with gangsters, no matter how popular the trend was now. “Have another drink, dear. You’ll feel better.” 

She wiped the blood from her hands, and her blade, on Harry’s shirt before standing to her feet. It hadn’t done much except smear it around a bit, make her hands a bit more pink, and pushed the blood into her nail beds. Glancing up from her hands, she took in the chaos. Around her the boys brawled. How long had it been since displays like this bothered her? She watched Arthur smash some poor sods face with an ice bucket and smiled at his choice. John clutched his hat in his hand while beating some man in the face, tearing the skin around his lips. Felt like Birmingham. 

When the shotgun sounded, she jumped up from the floor, eyes immediately seeking Tommy. She watched him whirl around, coat seeming to follow him in slow motion, to face the manager who’d fired a shell into the ceiling. Moving from her spot at the table, she made her way to where the boys stood, watching. 

“Get out.” 

Adeline moved next to Tommy, watched the manager train the shotgun on him. It would be so easy, she thought. Pull the blade back, watch it sail through the air, embed itself in his neck. As though he could read her mind, Tommy held his arm out, blocking her. Fine. She’d wait. 

“You gonna use that?” Tommy asked as he took several steps closer. 

The manager looked around the room as he slowly lowered the barrel. 

“Didn’t think so,” Tommy said with a little shake of his head.  

Tommy snatched the bottle of whiskey from thier table near the front and looped his free arm around her shoulders. She smiled up at him as he led her across the man room. John of course found a pretty blonde girl to steal a kiss from while Arthur kicked someone just because he could. Really, they couldn't be taken anywhere in decent company. Not that Adeline had any use for decent company.   

“We didn’t come here to make enemies,” Tommy announced. “We came here to make friends.” 

The whole club watched them, zeroed in on Tommy and his charisma. She understood. He owned them all in this moment. Held them in the palm of his hand. Word would spread quickly about the Peaky Blinders making a name for themselves in London. The new battle lines had been drawn, and Tommy led the offensive. 

She noted the flushed looks on several of the women’s faces. One young woman took a step forward, touched Tommy’s shoulder, batted her eyes at him. Adeline slapped her across the face so hard she stumbled to the ground. A man moved in on her, probably to defend the woman’s honor, she glared up at him, knowing he could see the brothers standing behind her. He backed off, muttering whore under his breath. Her eyes closed as she felt Arthur move around, glanced up in time to see Arthur take his eyes. So much for making friends. 

Fucking Shelbys.

Part 2

Master List

Tag List: @stevie75 @mootiemoose​​ @ohshititsfenharel​​ @fairy-witch-bitch @portents​​ @alreadybroken-ts​​ @books-livre @missymurphy1985 @lovemissyhoneybee​ @theshelbyclan​ @highgardenrosexx @dolllol2405

[gothbfignis]

The Emergence of the Word "Magick" and Why I Don't Trust Y'all Who Use It

Okay, I'm gonna preface this with a disclaimer: I am not an academic in any way, shape, or form. This is a tumblr post, and it will be framed as such. I'll try my best to site relevant sources, but in the end, I'm just a person on the internet. Do your own research and come to your own conclusions.

It's almost completely impossible to spend any significant time on witchblr and not see the word "magick" at least once. And everytime I do, it makes me want to rattle my FUCKING cage. Especially from people who are trying to help educate other witches on this platform, because I believe they should know better.

Because when you use the word "magick", you are evoking Aleister Crowley, a name famous in witchcraft communities. And that's not a good thing.

So, who was Crowley? In the simplest terms, he was an occultist. He wrote some of the most influential works in witchcraft theory and occult practice of his time. He was a writer, a scholar, a mountaineer, and an irredeemable racist. In many of his works, you will find specifically xenophobia, antisemitism, and sexism. Phrases like "the objectionable type of jew [with] the gross, hooked, pendulous proboscis; the thick, flabby, moist lips; the patient stupid eyes, and timid, hunted gait". It's fucking nauseating. The amount of hate he had for jewish people is off the charts. I could share more examples, but it's literally making me sick having to read that shit, and I'm not subjecting anyone else to it.

As for the counts of racism and sexism. Well.

"Where Islam and Christianity meet in open competition, as in some parts of Africa, it is found that only the lowest type of Negro, such as is accustomed to arrange matters with conscience by hanging a rag on a piece of stick, accepts Christianity."

"White men and women must choose between these alternatives: Will they yield, content to be the black man’s slave, after having been his master? or will they stand to, and reply by an energetic spiritual reaction, which will restore the threatened equilibrium of the races?"

"The doctor was a Bengali named Ram Lal Sircar, a burly n****r of the most loathsome type. I am not fond of Benaglis at the best and he as the worst specimen of his race I have ever seen."

"Do we call woman whore?  Ay, verily and amen, she is that; the air shudders and burns as we shout it, exulting and eager."

"Just as a woman's body is deformed and diseased by the corset demanded by Jagannath fashion, so is her soul by the compression of convention, which is a fashion as fitful, arbitrary, and senseless as that of the man-milliner, though they call him God, and his freakish fiat pass for everlasting law."

Okay, but what does this have to do with modern usage of the word "magick"? Well, the first recorded use of "magick" (with this particular spelling) was by Heinreich Cornelius Agrippa, who was a bit batshit for altogether different reasons (and which is a discussion for a whole different post). Agrippa was a 16th century occultist, and the writer of the Three Books on Occult Philosophy - works which are considered by many to be the foundation of western witchcraft. He was not bigoted (as far as I can tell), just kind of 'out there'.

Anyways. "Magick" made its way back into the mouths of mainstream witches by means of Crowley when he founded Thelema, his weird cult that he believed himself to be the prophet of. The teachings of Thelema would go on to influence L. Ron Hubbard in founding Scientology and Gerald Gardner, the "Father of Witchcraft" (but really, just wicca).

So. Not great. Crowley and his Thelema cult would repopularise "magick" in the modern day by way of his bigoted teachings, paving the way for it to make its way into the vocabulary of 21st century witches today. Supposedly, this alternate spelling was to help differentiate witchcraft from stage magic, like pulling doves out of your sleeve or sawing your girlfriend in half. I don't know, I've never seen a magic show. Either way, this spelling is completely unnecessary. Like, I don't think that anyone would read a book on kitchen magic and mistake it for a Penn & Teller act.

Using the word "magick" in your writings is a choice - one that is full of history and hurt. I just want you to weigh that choice and really meditate on the worth of using this word in your craft for the ☆•°aesthetic°•☆, and realize what exactly you're bringing to mind when you do. If you do use it, know what it really says about you and the things you value when you do so.

Sources:

https://www.britannica.com/biography/Aleister-Crowley

http://www.arcane-archive.org/faqs/crowleyracistfaq.php

https://hermetic.com/crowley/confessions/index

https://lightwarriorslegion.com/magick-definition-and-etymology/

https://www.learnreligions.com/magic-and-magick-95856

The Equinox by Aleister Crowley

The Law is For All by Aleister Crowley

[azaleavi]

Woman Like Me Part 2 - Bucky Barnes

Summary: y/n gets to talk to the person who gave her the serum and the others learn more about her

Set in the second half of episode 3 of tfatws

Warning(s): a little violence nothing too strong

Word count: 2.5K

Author’s Note: Part 2 is finally here! Thank you so much for loving part 1, i didn’t expect so many people to like it! I’m actually pretty proud of this part and i would love to write a part 3 and actually make this a series if you like it so give me feedback or tell me what you would like to see in the next part. Thank you!

Part 1

“Okay I have clients coming in a few minutes so enjoy the party and stay out of trouble” Sharon stands up, walking out of the room.

“Trouble” Zemo holds up his glass of whiskey.

“I think we should change” y/n looks at the clothes hanging by the wall, noting that they are still wearing their combat clothes. She can see multiple dresses but there are men’s clothes as well.

They all change out of their older clothes, the men giving y/n space to do it. She chose a simple black dress, appropriate for a party and she looks mesmerising. Bucky couldn’t see with the tactical gear on but she has a really nice figure which makes him stare at her a little longer than he should. Sam notices and decides to speak up.

“You clean up nice y/n” he smiles at her. This shakes Bucky out of his staring, realising what he was doing.

“Thanks. I’ve never really wore something like this before… you know with the whole Harcos thing and all” she shows a small smile.

“By the way, what language is that? I’ve never heard it before” Sam furrows his eyebrows, confused.

“Oh, it’s Hungarian, it means warrior” she rolls her eyes, clearly not amused by the name “I’m hungarian so I guess they thought it was fitting”

“Ah Hungary, what a nice place” Zemo speaks up “nice people too”

“If misogyny, racism and homophobia is nice to you I guess you’re right” y/n sends a sarcastic smile to him.

“We should go up into the party” Bucky intervenes before the conversation can escalate.

“Won’t people recognise you?” Sam asks y/n.

“Nah, I had a mask when I was forced to do the things I did. Not many people got to see my face and lived to tell about it” Bucky shudders, knowing exactly what she was talking about. Sam nods, holding the door open for her “thank you Sam”

The party is already in full swing, groups of people dancing to the music and others looking at the artwork that is displayed across the room. The three men with y/n walk over to the bar, trying to not bring any attention to themselves. They order drinks while waiting for Sharon to get the information. Bucky catches y/n looking at him from where she is sitting. He lifts his eyebrows in question.

“What are you looking at?” he shouts over the loud music.

“You” she is teasing him. He knows it, but that doesn’t mean he can’t play along with her.

“And what about me is so interesting that it got you looking at me instead of the party that’s happening around you?” Bucky tilts his head.

”That will be my secret” she winks at him. Bucky feels like he can’t breath for a second. She suddenly drowns her drink in one swift motion and stands up “I’m assuming you don’t want to dance with me” she grins.

“How can you even dance to music like this?” he asks, genuinely confused. The music back in his days was much better and what they did was actually dancing and not this… thing they are doing now. She looks away laughing. Her eyes catch something that makes her laugh even more.

“I think you should ask Zemo about that” she points at the man showing rather questionable dance moves. Bucky looks at him barely being able to hold his own laughter “well I’ll go mingle with the prime citizens of Madripoor” she does a small wave with her hand, walking away. Bucky watches her leave and doesn’t take his eyes off of her until she disappears in the crowd.

“Does our cyborg man have a crush?” Sam speaks up, having watched the whole interaction between them. Bucky whips his head in his direction, just realising that the other man was there the whole time.

“Definitely not” he answers “we were just talking”

“Talking? Sounded awful lot like flirting to me” Sam grins, making fun of the older man.

“We were not flirting” Bucky shakes his head and looks away to watch the crowd again. Sam only smiles to himself and stops pushing because Sharon appears next to them.

Y/N walks through the dancing people, just looking around and trying to absorb everything. She has never been to a party before, at least not while she was in control of her actions. She caught sight of Zemo again, who was still dancing. It was weird to see the very dangerous criminal just tearing it up on the dance floor. Suddenly someone grabs her hand from behind and turns her around. She almost hits the stranger in the head, but she quickly realises that it’s Bucky holding her. The crowd around them continues dancing, not paying any mind to the two super-soldiers standing among them.

“Hi” she smiles at him. They are standing so close to each other that their chests are almost touching and he is still holding her hands to his chest. Y/n has to tilt her head up so she can look in his eyes. She’s never been this close to a man before that wasn’t during a fight or in a threatening situation. She decides she likes it. Y/n doesn’t know if it’s because it’s Bucky who’s here with her or she would feel like this with any man, but she suddenly gets the urge to stand on her tiptoes and press her lips to his “You came here to dance with me?” she jokingly asks to get the image out of her head.

“You will have to wait for another party for that, Sharon got the information we need so we have to go” Bucky looks into her eyes his pupils slightly dilated, almost as if he was thinking the same thing. He starts lightly pulling her along, out of the crowd.

The next morning they are walking through the containers looking for the one that has Dr. Nagel in it.

“Okay this is the one” Sharon stops them in front a container. She hands them earpieces. Y/n feels a little nervous about meeting the man who turned her into what she is today. Bucky notices her fidgeting and puts his hand on her shoulder to reassure her. She gives him a small smile, grateful that he is here for her. She is wearing the same tactical gear she did when they first met which, crazy enough, was only yesterday. They walk through the door only to find it completely empty. Sam asks Sharon if she is sure it’s the right one and she tells them that it has to be. Zemo walks to the end of it and pushes only to find a hidden door.

“Fancy” y/n remarks, walking through it after Sam. They walk up the stairs and find a lab with music playing from a record player. Sam takes the needle off the record. Nagel turns around, scared.

“Dr. Nagel? We know you created the super-soldier serum” Sam says calmly.

“Get out of my lab” Nagel starts walking towards the door, but then sees Y/n standing there with a gun in her hand. The anger in her eyes is enough to stop him “Harcos” he says and she grits her teeth together.

“Do not call me that” she tries to stay calm.

“Jelentsd a feladatod, Harcos” he starts talking in Hungarian. State your mission, Warrior. She falters for a second, not having heard her language in a while. Selby only talked to her in English. Bucky looks at her worried as she points her gun at Nagel and takes the safety off.

“Az nem fog megtörténni” she answers. Not gonna happen. Sam looks between them, also worried for her. He thinks they shouldn’t have brought her with them, they didn’t think this through. What if Nagel knows the words and uses her against them? “Now why don’t you tell us about the serum you’re working on?” she switches back to English and pushes him back into a chair, her gun still pointed at him.

“I was brought into Hydra’s Winger Soldier program to pick up their work” he starts talking “after that I was recruited by the CIA. They had a blood sample that had semi-stable traces of serum in it” he looks at y/n who is still pointing her gun at him but this time he doesn’t cower in fear “after much labour, I was able to isolate the necessary compounds in it and that’s when I made her. The only successful outcome from over 40 tries” he stops for a second and Bucky can see a hint of something in his eyes. Before he can pin point what it is Nagel speaks again “Tizenhét” he says suddenly and y/n is immediately in front of him with her gun under his chin. Seventeen. The look in her eyes show that she is ready to kill.

“Say another word and you get a bullet in your head” she says through her teeth trying really hard to not shoot him right then and there.

“What did he say?” Sam asks not understanding the reaction from her.

“What do you call it? Trigger word?” Nagel smiles at her even though his life is on the line. The three men tense at the mention of that. Bucky steps next to her and for a moment she thinks he is going to pull her away but instead he also points his gun at Nagel.

“I will not hesitate” he says gesturing towards his gun.

“Do not worry, I only know the first word” he says, amused, but his eyes seem honest. They think about it for a second but pull their guns away from his head. Bucky looks at her, trying to catch her eyes. She looks back with a very small hint of tears in her eyes. He gets the urge to hug her but he knows he can’t do that right here so he only shows her a small encouraging smile.

“As I said: you try to say something about this and you won’t have time to finish that word” she starts walking away from Nagel “And you didn’t make me”she says as she stands next to a table, referring to his earlier statement “Continue” she orders him. So he does. He tells them about Karli and the woman called Donya Madani. He finishes with details about his serum, how it’s not like the ones before.

“I was a god” Nagel smiles like the crazy person he is “before I turned to dust and then Karli stole it” Y/n feels her angel boil and she lets it loose again.

“You are not a god” she shouts and slams her fist down on the table, a few vials falling down and breaking on the ground. Nagel flinches and tries to make himself smaller in his chair, immediately sensing the danger he is in. She lifts up her hand, realising that the table is now bent and you can see her fist’s outline in it “You are not a god” she repeats a little more calmly, but the anger can still be seen in her eyes “You never were and never will be. You just took in children who had nothing and tried to turn them into your version of the Winter Soldier” Bucky can’t help but feel like it’s his fault that she is in this situation. If the Winter Soldier didn’t exist y/n wouldn’t have had to go through these horrible things. She walks closer to the doctor “We were never asked if we wanted this. You told us it was some vaccine you were giving us and not the serum” while she is talking none of them see Zemo go around and get a gun from under one of the tables.

“Guys we are seriously out of time here” Sharon comes in and as soon as the rest of them don’t pay attention to Nagel, Zemo shoots him. Sam immediately takes the gun from him but it’s too late.

“What did you do?” he shouts at the other man but before he can answer the place blows up sending all of them backwards to the floor. Their ears are ringing and they can barely breathe. Zemo is the first to get up and he leaves them behind. Bucky gets back his senses quickly and searches for the rest to see if they are okay. Y/n is next to him trying to make sense of what happened and being a super-soldier she gets up at the same time as Bucky and helps Sam up while Bucky helps Sharon. They run outside as quickly as they can and realise that they are surrounded by people who are ready to kill them.

“Alright wait for my signal” Bucky speaks up, ready to take lead. Sam doesn’t listen to him and just runs out to take shelter “damn it” they start shooting with their pistols that they got from Sharon. Bucky stands next to y/n as his gun runs out of bullets. The both of them retreat to where Sam and Sharon are with y/n protecting his back.

“I thought we were gonna go left?” Bucky shouts at Sam.

“You went the wrong way” Sam answers, also shouting.

“I was clearing the way”

“I came out first. You were supposed to follow me”

“And where are we now” they go back and forth in the middle of the fight, like an old married couple.

“Can we talk about this later? We are kind of in the middle of something here!” Y/n interrupts them, trying to get them to focus. She and Sharon are still shooting.

“It’s in every action movie” the two men don’t even acknowledge her. Zemo appears on the top of a container in a purple mask and shoots at a pipe that blows up, giving the others enough time to get away. There are still people shooting at them as they run through the alleys. A man appears behind them and y/n kicks him hard enough that he flies across the open space and hits one of the containers. He falls to the ground unconscious. Another woman is in front of them and Bucky rips one of the pipes from the door and impales her with it. Y/n looks at him, impressed.

“You’ll have to teach me that” she grins. Bucky rolls his eyes, grabs her waist and pulls her inside. They punch the door open on the other side and Zemo shows up in a very nice looking car. It’s supercharged he says. Sam is ready to send him back to jail but Bucky reminds him that they need him to find Karli. Y/n agrees so she goes and sits behind Zemo. Bucky gets in the passenger seat while Sam sits next to her. They say goodbye to Sharon and Sam promises her that pardon. Before Zemo starts driving Bucky turns to y/n.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah” she answers with a little smile.

[jaanusbooktalk]

Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo - Book Review

8/10 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

TW: homophobia, racism (slurs), miscarriage, misogyny, sex (non graphic), underage drinking

(TWs are ranked in order of severity, please take them seriously!)

Last Night At The Telegraph Club had been sitting in my virtual TBR for months, and my bookshelf even longer. I’m so glad I finally got around to it this pride month!

I will say right off the bat that after reading I don’t necessarily agree with how it was marketed; the back of the book labeled it a thriller, whereas I felt like it was way less thriller and more historical fiction (I like both so this wasn’t a problem, just a heads up)

I fell in love with the characters, and even though it was a pretty slow-paced read I liked that I could enjoy it leisurely, put-it-down-and-pick-it-back-up-later type of vibe.

The story is set in California during what’s known as the “Red Scare” - when the U.S. government was firing employees and detaining anyone suspected of communist ties. Because of this national suspicion, Chinese Americans were especially at risk of discrimination and sudden deportation. In the midst of this, there’s teenage girl - Lily Hu - coming to terms with her sexuality and falling in love for the first time.

The book is incredibly well researched, and it was cool to get the stories of other members of Lily’s family. It really rounded them out as characters, as people instead of plot devices.

I think this book is a great read for anyone coming to terms with their sexuality or people who enjoy reading coming of age. I’ve also always been really interested in the history of queer nightclubs during the 50s, as “safe spaces” and this book taught me a lot! (Not to mention the aesthetic is just gorgeous)

Summary:

“That book. It was about two women, and they fell in love with each other. And then Lily asked the question that had taken root in her, that was even now unfurling its leaves and demanding to be shown the sun: Have you ever heard of such a thing?

Seventeen-year-old Lily Hu can't remember exactly when the question took root, but the answer was in full bloom the moment she and Kathleen Miller walked under the flashing neon sign of a lesbian bar called the Telegraph Club.

America in 1954 is not a safe place for two girls to fall in love, especially not in Chinatown. Red-Scare paranoia threatens everyone, including Chinese Americans like Lily. With deportation looming over her father--despite his hard-won citizenship--Lily and Kath risk everything to let their love see the light of day.”

TL;DR Two girls (one Chinese American, one white) fall in love at a gay nightclub in San Francisco during the 1950s amidst the Red Scare and fight to stay together despite their circumstances.

^lots of smoking & drinking in this book bc.. it was the 50s

So on to representation:

(Not really an own voices review, just saying what I noticed)

A good portion of the book takes place in Chinatown, either in Lily’s home or the greater community. Lily’s family celebrates the Chinese New Year while her best friend Shirley takes part in the Miss Chinatown Beauty pageant. The edge of Chinatown is located close to a gay nightclub called The Telegraph Club, and these are all historically accurate- the beauty pageant actually happened as an effort for the Chinese American community to better assimilate during the Red Scare.

There are moments when Lily is in predominantly white spaces that she has uncomfortable encounters with white queer people - they call her things like “China doll” as if it’s a compliment. Today this is definitely not okay to call someone, and even back then it made Lily uncomfortable, despite her wanting to fit in with those queer spaces. I think Malinda Lo did a really good job of showing this reality - the difficulty queer POC face when entering white queer spaces.

Kath, Lily’s love interest, is Italian. This isn’t touched on too much aside from sharing food from their respective cultures.

One thing I appreciated about the lgbtq+ rep in this book was it really addressed how difficult it is fight comphet, or compulsory heterosexuality. Even when someone isn’t in the closet, your family, friends, and community can try to force you back inside for their comfortability. What Lily and Kath go through is far from easy and reflects situations still faced by LGBTQ+ people today.

Finally, here’s a pic of some actual Ms. Chinatown contestants that was in the author’s bibliography/after notes (always read those!)

What I Loved:

For this book, I loved that it told more than one story. Sure, there’s the obvious storyline of Kath and Lily’s romance. But there’s also the story of Shirley and Lily’s tumultuous friendship, the story of Lily’s aunt and her life in a new country, the flashbacks to the story of Lily’s mother and father. There’s the story of Tommy Andrews, male impersonator and performer at The Telegraph Club, the story of queer women who boldly went out at night to an illegal establishment to watch those performances.

There’s the story of love in there because of this. All these people are tied together in such different ways, all just trying to love the best they can. I think that’s beautiful.

I also liked how the book didn’t idealize romance. There were times when Kath and Lily fought, when they made up, when they made out in janitor’s closets and it wasn’t at all like in the movies. They had to be vigilant with how they loved eachother, aware of every brush of their hands, and as a queer girl myself I felt really seen. It’s hard loving in a way that your world condemns as “wrong” or “sinful”. Especially as teenagers, when the LGBTQ+ scene is so dominated by adults, it’s difficult to find a place for us.

Back then, and now, it’s challenging to find spaces to celebrate queerness that aren’t also populated by mature themes (drinking, smoking, s*x, etc).

Note: Gay relationships are so taboo that society has dubbed them “mature content” to the point where a simple gesture like holding hands or a peck on the cheek can be labeled Rated R, making it hard for queer youth to preserve the innocent part of themselves and their relationships. Ex. People losing their minds over the lesbian grandmas from Lightyear.

The imagery was raw and there were definitely some scenes that left me emotional, especially when it came to Lily and her family/friends. Reconciling queer identity within communities of color is difficult because two kinds of love appear almost opposed to each other. Lily’s struggle with this hit close to home for me.

^my face during every scene where Shirley was talking (ily Lan Wangji😭)

Why I couldn’t give it a 10:

Honesty it came down to pacing. There were some parts where I felt the story was moving too slowly, or that certain copious amounts of detail were unnecessary and detracted from figuring out what was going on. At times I simply felt bored, because a page or two read like a history textbook or article. I understand needing to set the scene with historical fiction, but placing that in the middle of something happening took me out of the moment. I felt like it could have been better done if a character had given that background in dialogue (shorter) or if it was at the beginning of the scene. Putting it in the middle made it feel abrupt, and having a mini history lesson as one character’s thoughts (?) read more like the author trying to give me all of this (admittedly interesting) information about the event and political environment of the time.

I appreciate it, but here there’s a time and a place and I felt like it could have been done separately. That being said, I am in awe of how much effort was put into researching. This is by far one of the best researched historical fiction books I’ve ever read - I enjoyed reading the author’s note a lot!

I sincerely recommend to:

History buffs (especially if you’re curious about Chinese American/queer history)🔎

Fans of historical fiction novels (ex. Number the Stars, Promises to the Dead)📕

Fans of Luck of the Titanic/The Downstairs Girl by Stacey Lee 🚢

Closeted gay people (get a false cover if you need to!)🚪

Anyone looking to diversify their LGBTQ+ reading selection (y’all can’t all just be reading The Ones We Burn 🤢)

In hindsight, it could be that the background felt abrupt because I haven’t read historical fiction in a while - can’t even think of a time when I’ve read queer historical fiction before! Grateful to Lo for bringing this much needed representation ❤️

Overall, it was a good book and I enjoyed it! It definitely reinforced by desire to move to California (rip to my wallet) 🕊 Lily is a space nerd like me so that was awesome too 🪐

I also made a Pinterest board for this book since I kept thinking about it, here are some of my favorite additions:

“The vast majority of fiction about queer women is contemporary because until very recently, most people denied the fact that queer people even existed before modern times. Historical fiction in America and in the West is certainly very white-centric - just like all fiction - and I’d definitely love to read more historical fiction about queer people of color.”

- Malinda Lo, author of Last Night At the Telegraph Club

[bookofmirth]

This kind of discussion that the other side of the fandom has about Lucien they also have about Azriel?

Because the arguments they use and talk about what Lucien is doing, Azriel spent 500 years doing with Mor and it was even Azriel who objectified Elain, even Rhys lost the color of his face when he heard his thoughts, but they see it as love.

Hypocrites.

So honestly, I think the thing that is the most telling in this whole entire discussion, is the failure to see that Azriel is being painted in the exact same (problematic) light as Lucien is. By sjm.

I'm going to go into a deep dive on this okay, because I've frankly been surprised that no one has (to me, at least) brought up the idea of Azriel's portrayal in the book being way worse than Lucien's, and so them both being POC, Azriel being more markedly so, should be a similar problem. Talking about either of them being angry or threatening to either Mor or Elain should be the same problem, right? 

Wrong.

This is going to be super long. Under the cut explanation of why the fandom describing Azriel as angry is not at all the same issue as saying that Lucien won’t leave Elain alone, and how while Azriel’s characterization is fucked up on sjm’s part, the fandom’s interpretation of Lucien is fucked up and that’s on the people who insist on reading him a certain way.

ACOWAR, tbh, fucked up Azriel’s characterization. I’m going to call a spade a spade. When he lost his temper at the High Lord meeting and left Mor cowering in fear, everything shifted. Suddenly his attentions weren’t caring, they were creepy. It became way less about his feelings for Mor, and more about his emotional baggage that causes him to have this rage and disregard its impact on the people he loves.

The thing is, all of these arguments about Elain not being able to stand Lucien’s presence, or him pushing himself on her, or whatever extreme interpretation people choose to make, those behaviors are actually explicit with Azriel. I’m only going to use 1-2 quotes as examples of these behaviors, but there are more. We know that:

Azriel has been in love with - obsessed with, has some sort of feelings for - Mor for 500 years. 

Mor does not reciprocate these feelings.

Azriel experiences rage and anger frequently, and towards the people he should be closest to:

“There was an icy rage in Azriel I have never been able to thaw.” (acomaf)

“Az had a vicious competitive streak. It wasn’t boastful and arrogant, the way that Cassian knew he himself was prone to be, or possessive and terrifying like Amren’s. No, it was quiet and cruel, and utterly lethal.” (acosf)

This rage causes Rhys, Mor, and Cassian all to handle Azriel with kid gloves because they know he can explode at any moment:

She had not mentioned it these past few days in Velaris. Had wanted to make this choice on her own, and had understood how the news might cast a shadow over the merriment. 

She knew Azriel would say no, would want her safe. As he had always done. Cassian would have said yes, Amren with him, and Feyre would have worried but agreed. Az would have been pissed, and withdrawn even further into himself.

She hadn’t wanted to take his joy away from him. Any more than she already did. (acowar)

Azriel tries his best to keep Mor from exercising her agency:

“We could try again,” Mor said. “Let me speak to them, let me go to their palace-”

“No,” Azriel said. Mor raised her brows, and a faint color stained Azriel’s tan face. But his features were set, his hazel eyes solid. “You’re not setting foot in that human realm.”

“I fought in the war, you could do well to remember-”

“No,” Azriel said again, refusing to break her stare. His shifting wings rasped against the back of his chair. “They would string you up and make an example out of you.” (acomaf)

And that leads us to situations like these, when his rage and anger do finally get the best of him:

The frozen rage there rooted me to the spot. But beneath it, I could almost see the images that haunted him: the hand Mor had yanked away, her weeping, distraught face as she had screamed at Rhys. And now, behind us, Mor was shaking in her chair. Pale and shaking." (acowar)

“I want to confirm that Briallyn has the Crown,” Azriel said. “I’ll travel to the human lands tomorrow.”

“No,” Feyre and Rhys said at the same time, in the same breath.

Azriel’s eye shuttered. “I wasn’t asking for permission.”

Rhys smirked. “Doesn’t matter.”

Az opened his mouth to object, but Feyre said, “You’re not going, Azriel. If Briallyn has the Crown and catches you, even if she just suspects you’re nearby, who knows what she could do to you?”

“Give me some credit, Feyre,” Az said. “I can keep hidden well enough.”

“We take no risks,” Feyre said, voice flat with command. “Pull all your spies out.”

“Like hell I will.” (acosf)

(later in acosf)

The High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court had faced off against the shadowsinger this afternoon, and emerged triumphant.

Perhaps triumphant wasn’t the right word, but the argument had ended with Azriel grudgingly agreeing not to spy on Briallyn for the time being - and brooding all through dinner.

Okay, so why did I share these examples? Because Azriel’s anger problem is explicit, it is canon, and that anger can and will be aimed at the people he loves. I could have kept going with the examples, but you get the picture.

Now, the portrayal of a man of color as threatening, especially against a white woman, is racist. That’s just a fact. Saying that Lucien is threatening to Elain has the exact same impact as saying that Azriel is threatening to Mor.

So why aren’t people coming at me for making the statement that Azriel displays red flags? (At least not publicly lol.) I suspect it’s because either 1) people don’t understand the full scope of the argument in the first place and so couldn’t recognize it elsewhere, or because they recognize that....

Sarah Janet Maas explicitly created Azriel to be a rage-y, angry man of color who stomps all over Mor’s autonomy and makes her cower in fear, and argues with the people he is supposed to respect just because... why? Well that’s a different issue, really, but the “why” doesn’t actually matter. The impact of his actions does matter. And his portrayal, combined with the very racist descriptions of the Illyrians, creates a problematic af situation. And to repeat, it is SJM who created this situation.

The fandom is the one saying that Lucien is a threatening POC. It is not canon. It is an intentional choice on the part of some readers to read him this way. They don’t have to read him this way, they choose to. They choose to participate in the narrative that men of color are a threat to white women. Intentionally? I doubt it. That’s why I and others have been trying to explain it, though.

Does SJM even realize what she has created in portraying Az as an angry POC, and by making it unclear why Elain is standoffish around Lucien? I doubt it. But that’s a her problem, not an us problem.

I do understand the instinct to read Lucien in that same overbearing, problematic way because we already have the explicit blueprint in Azriel. That’s already a thing in this world. But there is no evidence for Lucien being that way, and when people settle on that one interpretation amongst many other interpretations, then people are valid to critique the one that leans into the racism instead of away.  

We cannot change the way these books were written. We can critique the fuck out of them, and refuse to perpetuate racist, ableist, or homophobic shit.

SJM created this mess, but we don’t have to roll around in it. We can definitely do better.

[pyaasa]

lesbiansandgayssupporttheminers is racist; she thinks she understands racism better than poc, stands by racists, and attacks poc for trying to speak to her about racism

Tw: racism, rape mention, incest mention. also possible transphobia 

For the full story, you first need a bit of background: if you’ve been following me for a while then you will be aware I have called out @ayeforscotland’s racism several times. I would recommend reading this post for a full explanation.

In addition to the incidences mentioned in the post I have just linked, ayeforscotland has also had interactions with neo @androidgynes who is Romani and another person who is black (but didn’t want to be named) and they’ve both also called him out for his racism.

Anyway so. @androidgynes​ saw that lesbiansandgayssupporttheminers was reblogging from ayeforscotland, and that the op of the post was @/getpoliticaluk (who defends incest). Androidgynes messaged lesbiansandgayssupporttheminers (who I will from now refer to as lagstm) and informed her that ayeforscotland is racist and getpoliticaluk defends incest - the conversation that followed went like this. (the below screenshots are posted with permission from @androidgynes​)

The post that neo (@androidgynes) linked of mine was this. And I mean... clearly that particular post by ayeforscotland was very racist, he literally just sat there laughing about anti-black racism as if it was a joke. When @mangopickled​ tried to speak to him about how offensive this post was, he removed her comments from the notes of the post (like. to be clear: ayeforscotland, a WHITE MAN, made a post about racism, and then removed a WOMAN OF COLOUR’S commentary from that post when she told him that his comments were inappropriate). When I saw that, I called that out, and he blocked me. There’s many levels to his racism here that I don’t have the energy to explain, and if you don’t understand why it’s so problematic then you should probably stop reading here cos you clearly know nothing and probably care even less about anti-racism.

So on that particular post that neo linked to lagstm, there is ayeforscotland being racist, and 2 woc calling out his racism. And yet on having this post shown to her, this is how she chose to respond

lagstm literally says that she thinks my views on racism lack nuance. I am a woman of colour, I am visibly muslim, and I’ve experienced racism pretty much all my life. And here is a white woman saying that she thinks my views on racism “lack nuance”. I,, I genuinely don’t have words to convey how angry this makes me. Literally who does she even think she is. Not even is it racist to dismiss my literal LIVED experience of being a woman of colour in this country, but she is literally saying “look at these stupid brown folk, they don’t know what they’re talking about cos they’re so stupid :)”

neo points out firstly that as a white person lagstm doesn’t have the right to make that call, and also that there is ofc another woc on that post saying that exact same thing, and androidgynes themselves are roma. lagstm is not just dismissing me as a stupid savage who is too stupid to form complex thoughts, but she is also indirectly saying the same thing about 2 other poc, and saying that her judgement, as a white person, is more sound than all of ours.

It’s also worth mentioning that neo, who is Romani, was polite to lagstm during this exchange, and lagstm was rude and dismissive. I find this deeply hypocritical. Lagstm has been talking a lot about the policing bill and how it will affect GRT communities, but when she’s talking to someone who is actually *from* the Roma community, she is dismissive and condescending. All this shows is that she’s fake AF. She pretends to care about the Roma community on her blog and then speaks down to them in private.

And again this is worth repeating: AYEFORSCOTLAND WAS BEING RACIST ON THAT POST. IT WAS RACIST. WHAT HE SAID WAS RACIST. So lagstm isn’t just ignoring 3 poc, she is also ignoring,,,, you know,,, the actual racism,,,

And she also says ayeforscotland is borderline racist? Like she acknowledges ayeforscotland is borderline racist but she’s still happy to follow him? Like that alone would be enough for me actually

neo then blocked lagstm and messaged me and told me what happened, and showed me the above screenshots - btw prior to this neo and I had never interacted. Anyway I was obviously a bit disgusted but instead of going straight to blocking lagstm or making a callout post straight away, I messaged her to explain herself and take back what she said. That is now two poc who tried to resolve the matter privately - clearly a lot more than lagstm ever deserved. Androidgynes messaged me last Friday, and I messaged lagstm the next day on Saturday

My convo with lagstm went as follows:

So you can see that initially she was apologetic and said she “didn’t mean to imply that that my judgement on racism was flawed” (even tho that’s literally what she said) and defended herself by saying “I react poorly in interactions like this” - genuinely not a defence but whatever. She then proceeded to say that what she doesn’t trust my opinion on is Scotland and Ireland - which completely irrelevant. Firstly I am ambivalent to Scottish nationalism and have always said I don’t know much about it, and I support the reunification of Ireland. And secondly, my issue with aye has got literally nothing to do with Scotland or Scottish nationalism; he is racist all on his own. And the post neo linked was barely even about scottish nationalism, it was just him being anti-black. So lagstm saying “I don’t trust your judgement on Scotland and Ireland” is ridiculous considering that Scottish/Irish nationalism have nothing to do with this.

Like akjfbkjdfbs this is actually so ridiculous. It doens’t make any sense. Lagstm clearly says “I don’t trust pakisstani’s judgement on THIS issue [the issue being racism] and her views on THIS issue [the issue being racism] lack nuance” but now turns around and says “I wasn’t talking about racism, I was talking about Scotland/Ireland” like she must really think I’m dumb

And you can see Lagstm bringing up unrelated hypothetical scenarios, and saying “in this situation, you can’t tell me to defer to poc” which i found ??? Like why are you bringing up scenarios in which you think you are allowed to educate us poor and stupid black and brown folk?? I then told her she was straw-manning and that her points about Ireland/Scotland were ridiculous, but then she claimed it was me that was engaging her in bad faith. Like SHE, the white woman who practically said that I am too stupid to understand racism, and when confronted on it started straw-manning and bringing up unrelated scenarios, said I am not engaging her in good faith. AFTER both neo and I tried to speak to her privately about this. Like I tried to speak to her privately AFTER I FOUND OUT SHE HAD SAID RACIST THINGS ABOUT ME. BUT I’M NOT ENGAGING HER IN GOOD FAITH? LMAOOO

And then the accusation about rape threats which is actually the most disgusting part of this entire thing. I shouldn’t have to explain that accusing 2 poc of conspiring to send her rape threats (without any evidence whatsoever. Frankly I think she’s lying about the rape threats 🤷🏽‍♀️ it’s quite a transparent attempt to distract from her own nasty behaviour and deflect onto us) is actually extremely racist. She is invoking her white fragility and painting me and androidgynes as aggressors who are threatening her safety and inflicting/threatening to inflict sexual violence on her. It is beyond disgusting 🤮

What’s more, neo is trans, so when lagstm is baselessly accusing them of issues related to rape, she is also playing up to transphobic tropes.

One more thing worth mentioning is that there are several lies peppered throughout lagstm’s comments. Firstly when she claimed to have briefly unfollowed me - she didn’t actually. I was checking regularly, and she never unfollowed me. This was a small lie that I picked up on striaght away but because it wasn’t relevant I didn’t say anything about it. But I just think it’s interesting that she would lie for no reason. And another lie - feigning ignorance about ayeforscotland’s racism, and actually even asking for receipts is incredibly disingenuous when on this particular post, if you scroll through the notes, you can see she has literally liked it. Like she had already seen the posts where me and mangopickled called out his racism and literally LIKED it, and when neo says to lagstm that aye is racist, lagstm says “receipts please :)” YOU’VE ALREADY SEEN THEM! AND LIKED THEM! screenshot in case she unlikes it (sorry for including dumb comments by dumb scots but i need to prove it’s the same post so):

LASTLY. Last point I swear. When lagstm said “it was also coloured by the statements they’d made about another tumblr user, which didn’t relate to racism, which I didn’t address with them because I didn’t want to upset them” <- she must mean getpoliticaluk defending incest? So like what is lagstm saying here, she didn’t want to bring up that she also herself defends incest?? Like is she tryna say she’s a pro-shipping freak?????????????????????? What other way is there to read that statment

Okay that’s everything.

I’m not interested in discourse on this post - if you are white and think lagstm isn’t racist or you’re inclined to defend her then save your breath, I don’t need white people telling me what is or isn’t racist. I gave her the chance to defend herself, which is way more than she deserves, and this is how she responds. Her actions and indefensible and she can choke ☺️❤️  I will be unfollowing/blocking anyone I see reblogging from her because I deserve better than to follow people who are ok with racists ❤️ 

[quillify-tries-to-talk]

Yet Another Rewrite (Part 2)

For the thomstair appreciation week by @youngreckless ik it's over. Sorry I'm late :(

You can read part 1 here then come back and read this one.

Thomas and Alastair working things out part 2. Enjoy!

Tw: mentions of racism, bullying, abuse, colonialism

"Even our angels have mercy, Thomas." His voice was hollow now. 

Despair threatened to pull him under. It wasn't worth it. Anything. He would always be like this. It was a miracle even Cordelia was able to look him in the eye without hate. He did deserve this, he thought, settling back on his bed, all the fight drained. He deserved every blow and every bruise he'd inflicted on others.

Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa 

Funny that he now remembered his Latin lessons.

The bed dipped under Thomas's heavier weight, and he felt a flash of warmth when hesitant fingers crept over his skin. Too close. He was too close. 

Let go, he wanted to say, but lies seemed to evade him whenever Thomas Lightwood was present. His eyes looked dark brown in the dim lighting. There were  dents on his bottom lip where he must have bitten it. It took everything in him to not let his hands rise and trace the lines of his jaw.

"I remember Paris."

Alastair's eyes widened. He sat frozen, and Thomas took that as his cue to continue. "You were kind to me when I was very alone, and I am grateful." He looked up, face a bit red. "It was the first time I realized you could be kind.”

He tried not to let the last comment needle him. “It is my favorite memory of Paris as well.”

“You don’t have to say that. I know you were there with Charles.”

His jaw went tight. Not that. Anything but that. "Charles Fairchild? What about him?”

Thomas cocked his head to the side, his expression innocent. “Wouldn’t that be your best memory of Paris?”

“Exactly what are you suggesting?”

“I’m not suggesting anything." His tone indicated the exact opposite though. Cheeky little–

"I’ve seen the way you look at Charles, the way he looks at you. I’m not an idiot, Alastair, and I’m asking …” Thomas shook his head, sighing. 

He was going to say it. Right here. Angel help him.

“I suppose I’m asking if you’re like me.”

There it was. 

Perhaps he could salvage this conversation. He gathered his thoughts, straightened out of his slouching position.

“Thomas Lightwood,” he said. “I am nothing like you."

Thomas stared as if he'd been clubbed on the head, eyes dazed in shock again. He was shuffling from side to side, probably preparing to launch himself far, far away from him.

A bit more effort, dâdâsh, Layla said in his head, amused and exasperated.

Right. “I am nothing like you, Thomas." His breathing was faltering again, throat closing up, fighting against the vulnerability he was exposing. “Because you are one of the better people I have ever known. You have a kind nature and a heart like some knight out of legend. Brave and proud and true and strong. All of it.” 

He smiled bitterly. “And all the time you have known me, I have been a terrible person. So, you see. We are nothing at all alike.”

His head snapped up, surprise etched on his features. His eyes started twinkling again. What was he doing to him? Even looking at him made Alastair want to smile. 

He hadn't wanted to smile in a long, long time.

"I'm not—" Thomas broke off. "That's not what I meant."

Don't I know that, eshgham? "I know what you meant." His voice had softened. The words hung in the air for a moment. But he needed some answers of his own now. "How did you know about Charles?"

“You wouldn’t tell me what you were doing in Paris,” Thomas replied. Alastair thought he heard a note of hurt in his voice, but promptly dismissed the notion. “But you mentioned Charles, over and over again, like you got pleasure out of just saying his name. And when you came to London this summer, I saw the way you looked at him. I know what it is to have to hide the—the signs of affection.”

“Then I imagine you may have noticed I don’t look at Charles that way anymore.”

What did you just say, Carstairs? Admitting to your own failures now? Couldn't even hold on to first love?

His jaw tightened again. Get out of my head, baba. Charles. Get out, both of you.

“I suppose I did,” Thomas said. “Though for the past four months, I’ve been trying not to look at you. I told myself I hated you. But I could never really make myself. When Elias died, all I could think about was you. What you must be feeling.”

His father's name reopened the gashes on his heart. Heat sparked behind his eyelids. “I insulted your father and blackened his name. You were under no obligation to care about mine.”

“I know, but sometimes I think that it is much harder to lose someone who we are on bad terms with than it is to lose someone with whom all is well.”

“Bloody hell, Thomas. You should hate me, not be thinking about what I must be feeling—” Alastair passed a hand over his face. It came back wet with tears. He didn’t even know when that happened. He’d never had an audience for his crying before. 

"But I do," said Thomas softly. His fingers ghosted higher along Alastair's wrist, making his heart skip a beat. Once, twice, three times.

Bewildered, he marvelled at the sensation such a small touch could cause. 

"I'm sorry." Thomas's voice was soft, filled with guilt. His head bowed as if in prayer. "I—what you said. What happened at school." His gaze trailed over Alastair's features, and he shook his head. "I always found you beautiful. Then and now. I didn't know people hated how you looked. You're like a poem, but in human form."

"Poem," Alastair repeated numbly. If his brain had short-circuited before, it was blown to bits now. No one had ever called him that.

Charles had called him a beautiful secret. His safe haven. His comfort and best friend.

Never a poem.

"Yes." Thomas's cheeks were slowly flushing rose. Another nice contrast with his skin and hair. "Graceful. Elegant. Confident. You were always so poised and sharp. Like one of Jamie's knives. You were smart, managed to turn people over. They listened to you. Look what you did just now. I didn't know what to do. If I wanted you. Or if I wanted to be you. Remember when I followed you around school?"

Alastair's rusty throat muscles regained a bit of their ability. He wanted me? It wasn’t the best, but it was okay. Charles had wanted him. It hadn’t been too bad. Until the end. Until the horror of his actions had dawned on him. Until he realized that all his time spent with Charles had been wasted in tending to his needs, not Alastair’s. He hadn’t even known a relationship required his own needs to be taken care of. That it was a necessity. 

"I remember,” he managed. “Then I met you in Paris and you’d grown up and turned into Michelangelo’s David. I thought you were beautiful. But I was still caught up with Charles—” He broke off, regret weighting his stomach. “Just another thing I’ve wasted. Your regard for me. I wasted my time and my affection on Charles. I wasted my chance with you.”

Thomas blinked. And blinked. And blinked. A pulse had started in the base of his neck, thudding against the delicate skin. Alastair raised his eyes only to find him already staring. 

"Thomas?" His name tasted strange on his tongue.

"You said angels too have mercy," he said in answer. "I—I must apologize. I'll admit I didn't know how people treated your family. I have been sheltered in that regard."

"You must know where those indigo-dyed silks came from," said Alastair softly. They were from India. Ariadne had mentioned it during their little dance, the news that had trickled in. The brown-skinned, hollow-eyed servants brought in for labour by mundanes and Shadowhunters alike. "Or why England never has a shortage of adamas, but my country does." 

That one was still going on. Britain liked guising their nefarious schemes behind offers of trade. 

He released a sigh, shaking his head in despondence. "They never tell you. Layla and I knew because we saw it happen; we know our histories ever since we could walk and talk. And it still happens. It's more than demons and humans for us. It’s always been that way." He held one brown hand up to the light, and Thomas’s eyes followed. “This isn’t apparently how we were supposed to look. I tried changing that, and it did work for sometime but.. I hated myself even then. I hated my family and my culture and my books. Do you flinch from your own face, Thomas? I always did. Still do, sometimes. 

“I hate that my skin isn’t like yours. If it was, perhaps people wouldn’t have said so many things. Perhaps I wouldn’t have as many bruises.” He leaned his head back against the wall, ignoring the tightness in his chest. “In another life, perhaps we would’ve had our chance, you and I.”

His words ended with a plaintive note; the bone-deep weariness that there was nothing he could do, aside from ripping off his own skin or trying to be like his father. In appearance, at least. They remained silent for a long while, but it was the thoughtful sort. Alastair didn't know how many hours he passed by just counting the cracks in the walls when Thomas's voice pierced the quiet.

"Teach me."

He jerked awake. "What?"

"You said there are things I don't know about you. About where you come from and what you and Cordelia have to face. And… perhaps I'd like to know. I'd like to understand how the world works." A small smile ticked up the corners of his mouth, and Alastair found himself besotted by the expression.

By the Angel. Definitely not coming out in one piece.

"You'd like to… umm…" Words had fled when he'd needed them most. Damn you, Thomas. 

Thomas’s fingers enclosed over his wrists. The warmth was steadying, comforting. His expression was hesitant, at odds with the way his body commandeered space. “I want help. Really, truly. I found myself fascinated in Spain by the difference in language and culture. And then Paris. One-time travel gave me a different perspective, so imagine what more knowledge would do.” He was practically shaking with excitement at the prospect of learning of his ancestor’s atrocities. “You’ll be teaching me, so it won’t feel like a debt to you.”

“Are you sure you want to know, Thomas? People have done some terrible things.”

“I need to know what I’m redeeming myself for before I ask for forgiveness.” His hazel eyes were clear, expression determined. Like a knight readied for battle. A scholar rewriting history on pages. 

Alastair felt his throat tighten at his excitement. He wasn’t used to any of this. Apologies. Forgiveness. Love. Hope. His story was supposed to have died after all his attempts to apologize to The Merry Thieves. He’d failed then to ask for friends, so why would someone give him another chance?

“And maybe you’re wrong,” Thomas added in what was supposed to be a nonchalant tone, but Alastair detected a slight tremor in it. “About me.”

“Speak sense, Lightwood.” His tone sharpened, a defense against his wrecked emotional state. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this.” In answer, Thomas hooked his hands around Alastair’s shoulders, and the sudden onslaught of warmth and gentleness made his body sway with the sheer impossibility of the situation. No glass. No manipulation. Nothing but warmth and truth and compromise. The good sort. 

This had to be a dream. He would wake up any time now, but he couldn’t stop staring at him. Couldn't stop admiring his smile, the brightness of his eyes, the shape of his mouth, that damned pulse at his throat. And more. His strength. His passion for learning. His bravery in venturing after a killer alone. The openness of his heart.

I’m not worth it, Alastair wanted to say, but by then his head had fallen on his shoulder, nestled in the crook of Thomas’s neck. He felt lighter than air. For the first time, his head felt empty of anything: trouble, grief, responsibilities, duties. It was just them. Thomas with his arms around him, holding him in the storm of his life. His heartbeat was a steady clock that Alastair could time his breaths to. 

With Charles it had been all heat and desire, and the furious pounding of his heart in the thrill of being wanted by someone. This felt like coming home, sitting down for a cup of tea with his favourite book. Warm and right and natural. Tears slipped down his cheeks, freed after years and years of being locked away for the sake of his family. 

Thomas set his lips to Alastair’s brow. 

His body seized up at the soft pressure. It felt like someone had poured sunlight into his veins. Another tear slipped down his cheek. Impossible. Wake up, now. Happiness wasn’t a part of your life. But he was still here, feeling Thomas lean his cheek against his hair. Through the swirl of emotions, he heard his voice again.

“We’ll get past this together. I will relearn you, Alastair.” The sound of his name on Thomas’s lips sent his heart careening again. “Negaran nabash.”

Don't worry. Even with the different cadence, it would’ve been hard to miss. Thomas had just spoken in Persian. 

Lifting his head, he raised an eyebrow. “Where did you learn that?”

“Oh. Umm. Just something…” That adorable smile surfaced again. “A little hobby? Like Kit and his test tubes?”

Shaking his head, Alastair allowed himself a little smile. Perhaps, it had been worth it to risk his neck. For this. Only for this.

Taglist: @cherilyn-rose @youngreckless @eugeniaslongsword @nott-the-best (2nd part eeeeeeee🥳🥳🥳) @cant-think-of-anything @livingformyself

[nanamismoonchild]

 pairing: CEO! Namjoon x black Assistant! Y/N

genre: fluff, angst, boss/employee relationship, f2l

warnings: mention of racism/discrimination in workplace, very indirect mention of domestic abuse

Summary:   Losing your job was one of the worst things that could possibly happen to you. Bills started piling up, and soon enough you were in complete debt.  By a miracle, you were offered the position of assistant to the CEO of Persona who turns out to be a real sweetheart.

WC: 5.6k--i think this is the most i’ve written. i could’ve written some more but ya girl was losing that thing called inspiration. 

A/N: This fic is the definition of what a Hallmark movie is. First it takes you on a straight-forward path then BAM! But you gotta love them for that.  Remember was originally supposed to be called Deceiving the Moon, but I changed the plot entirely into this one and I can’t but love this version more so now it is Remember. And I hope you’ll remember to enjoy it!

beta-reader(s)-- @birbdae​ thank you for the praise and the tiny criticisms bby. they made me smile! 

The pink paper slip seemed to burn your hand as you held it.  The tears in your eyes did nothing to persuade your boss of three years to keep you on the project that you held dear to your heart. The new girl he had hired to replace you couldn’t meet your eyes as she handed you the box filled with your personal belongings from your office space. 

“Oh, ____. Before you leave, can you email the final preparations for the toy drive? We would like to get started as soon as possible.”

The bastard smiled up at you as he practically ripped your heart to pieces. The toy drive had been your idea from the start to beginning. You were the program manager as well the assistant to the CEO who had wanted nothing to do with the project until he learned of the tax cut he was able to receive.  

Then he replaced and fired you. Now he was asking for your hard work that you manifested.  

You had dealt with a lot of shit regarding this company. Racist comments while being the only black woman on the team, being told you hair being in braids was not professional, and being paid the least out of everyone including the new assistant. Yet you had stayed. Your dreams of finally managing to pull off a huge event in your name had made you persevere and smile in the face of the evil work environment. 

The dream slowly crumbled as you stared at the assistant, the boss, and the pink slip. There was no way you would give him anything you had created.  

“No. Start the entire project yourself. I’m sure your new assistant knows how to program manage. I’ll be taking my toy drive elsewhere. I will not be letting the kids down because of your incompetence and willingness to fire me two months before the charity was supposed to begin. Fuck you.”

The CEO’s smile dropped quickly hearing those words. Perhaps this was a bad idea. But before he could retract his statement of firing the one person he knew he could count on, you left the office, head held high, middle finger in the air. 

 Three weeks later, the many jobs you had applied for had not replied to you, and your last paycheck from the previous job was slowly dwindling. If nothing came up soon, you wouldn’t be able to afford the rent for the next month. 

Your friends Seokjin and Jungkook offered to help; however, your pride was getting in the way and you would only use them as a last resort if you couldn’t find a job in time. 

For the time being, you tried to relax and avoid thoughts of the impending bills that threatened to pile up. 

Putting on a bonnet and pouring a glass of wine, you prepared to pamper yourself with a little Netflix binge. Seokjin had brought the wine as soon as he had heard about what happened. He worked at  Persona and couldn’t believe the unjust condition that had been forced on you. Persona was the best company to work at according to your older friend. He had once tried to convince you to apply there. Yet you hadn’t listened. There might not have been a chance to grow there seeing as many interns went there after graduating like Seokjin, and you prefer not to work with friends. As much as you loved Seokjin, you knew how childish he could be despite the mature attitude he tended to exude. You were the same way. Putting you two together in the same building was a catastrophe waiting to happen. 

The day he brought the wine, he told you the CEO--Kim Namjoon- was looking for a new assistant and would more than listen to your project proposal. 

Not to mention, he would pay you more than what you received at your old company. 

The idea tickled in the back of your mind as you sipped your wine. As much as you would have liked to work somewhere differently, the bills were waving at you in the distance and the employers you had contacted seemed to be uninterested. At least Seokjin could put in a good word for you. 

Picking up your phone, you dialed the number you knew well. 

“___! “ “Jinnie!” You could hear Jungkook in the background, yelling something that was unclear to you. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure? Do you need food? I just made those dumplings that you like so much. I could run them up to you.”

“Please. I haven’t eaten anything all day. But that’s not why I called. I want to know how to apply for the position of the assistant.”

Seokjin audibly gasped and made a sound keen to a squeal.  

“You apply by showing up tomorrow in your best business apparel at eight am sharp tomorrow at my doorstep so I can take you for open interview sessions. And bring your portfolio--no resume needed.”

“No resume?”

“Nope.”

“Oh...Alright. Eight am sharp. Best business clothes. Portfolio. Got it. Thank you Jinnie.” “No problem, __. Anything for Jungkook and I’s best friend who tends to steal our hoodies,” he said, a smile practically being heard through his voice.

“Those aren’t your hoodies anymore first of all. Second of all, I don’t steal. I borrow without the possibility of giving it back.  Third of all, bring me my food. I’m starving.”

“I’m already at your door. Open up. And Jungkook came here too. He brought that silly game of his.” Hanging up, you stand up to adjust your bonnet and the pajamas you had lounged in. You walked over to the door and opened it to see your friends’ arms full of snacks and games to play for the night. 

“We’ll be done with our mini get together for you to get enough sleep and prepare for your interview. Right now, we’re going to help you mope around,” Jungkook told you as both he and his older roommate stepped into your apartment.  

“Somehow I doubt it, but I’ll give you the time of day since you brought dumplings.”

All three of you laughed. 

 The next morning, the alarm blared at six o’ clock. Sitting up and stretching your limbs, you pushed yourself off the bed and into the bathroom. You needed to look your best for the interview and show you were the best candidate. And that started with a nice, hot shower. The lavender soap washed the stress off of your body and the water carried it into the drain. 

Jungkook had helped pick out your outfit while Seokjin had helped prepare your portfolio.Your hair was braided, and it was too heavy for you to set it into a bun of some sort, so you let it stay down and applied a little coconut oil.  

 Everything was ready and set. You were ready. 

At exactly eight o’ clock, you stood outside of Jungkook’s and Seokjin’s shared apartment. You could hear shuffling coming from right behind the door, alerting you that Jin was going to open the door. As he swung the door open, you leaned over to see a slightly disheveled Jungkook throwing on his backpack. 

“Late for class again?”

He grunted and moved past you. 

Jin laughed and locked the door before pushing you towards the exit of the apartment. 

“You ready for the open interviews?”

“I think so. Scratch that. I know so.” Your momma always told you confidence was the answer to everything.  

“You’ll wow Namjoon. You’re more than qualified and Namjoon could use your ideas. That’s why I said bring your portfolio.” “Thanks.”

 The drive to Persona was quick and easy. And loud as Jin played his favorite tunes and sang along to them. It uplifted your spirits and calmed some of the butterflies that blossomed in your stomach. You knew a lot about Namjoon from what Jin told you whenever he came home from work and bothered you. 

He was sweet and caring. His employees came first to him and took their opinions seriously.  Any criticisms anyone had was dealt with right away as a group or one on one. 

On one occasion, an employee’s car was destroyed because of her ex and she couldn’t find a way to work other than Ubers. It began to get too expensive, and she told Namjoon her dilemma. After a brief meeting, he was convinced to begin a carpool service for his employees at no cost to them. 

Your old boss was neither of those and only cared for the profits that came. If someone didn’t have a ride to work, it wasn’t his problem.

Namjoon’s handsome according to Jin. Tall, tan, and handsome had been the exact words Seokjin had said. Namjoon’s smile brightened everyone’s day when he smiled and nodded good morning to everyone. He always wore tailored suits--clothes fitting him to a T.   

You didn’t necessarily need these details for the interview, but knowing exactly what type of boss Namjoon would be would set your mind to achieve your goal of getting the job through any means. 

Seokjin walked you to the door of his boss’s office and knocked twice. A deep voice told you to come in.

The butterflies in your belly  picked up full speed. As you tried to calm yourself down, Jin opened the door. 

“Namjoon! ____ is here!” Jin announced.  

The man in particular was seated at a mahogany desk in a  leather chair that seemed much too small for him. As big as he was though, he exuded a calming aura, and not one of arrogance.  

He stood up, a huge smile spreading on his face. His dimples were pronounced and it made your heart skip a beat or two. Jin had not mentioned dimples. They were your weakness. 

“Thank you Seokjin. You can go get started on your work,” he dismissed the older man and turned to you. “ Hello,  Ms ___. A pleasure to speak to you today.” “Um, it’s my pleasure to speak with you as well.”

He circled around back to his chair, and motioned for you to take the chair across from. As you made your way over, you took in the decor of the office. It was bigger than your previous boss’s.   There were many statues that you knew were from the KAWS collection. You had a few yourself, but not as many as this man had. The statues were placed in display cases that were scattered around the room. The room was not stark white, and had small bouts of brown and orange around the room. It was unusually calming--helping those butterflies in your belly. 

Sitting down, you smiled at the man in front of you, not knowing how to start the interview. 

“So I presume Seokjin told you about the position and what I’m expecting, correct?”

“Yes, and I believe that I can do more than what you’re expecting of me.”

Namjoon nodded, “That’s good. An assistant who wants to do more is exactly what I’m looking for. My last assistant was an intern, and though she was great, I wanted a little more. I see you brought a portfolio. Tell me a little about what is in it.”

This was the moment you had prepared for. Even though you had anticipated it to be later in the interview, you knew exactly what to say.

“This portfolio actually contains some of the projects and the work I developed at my previous job. One of them includes a toy drive. I was fortunately able to keep the project for myself, and I planned on getting funding from a local bank in order to kickstart it again. The toy drive would consist of donations and toys I buy myself and giving it to domestic abuse shelters for the mothers and children-”

“When was this supposed to take place?” Namjoon interrupted, curiosity clear in his voice. 

“Oh, it was supposed to take place next month. December. It’s a time crunch but I believe I could do it. The other projects were for my boss who couldn’t be bothered to do anything for himself--Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Completely fine.” He drummed his long fingers on the table, encasing them in silence for a while. 

You hadn’t meant to ramble on about the toy drive, but the passion you felt for the charity event was incredible. Your mother had owned a domestic abuse home, and the amount of women and children who had to spend Christmas hiding away was consistently on your mind. You wanted to do something for them. 

“___?” 

“Yes?” You steeled yourself for another question. 

“On the basis that you continue this toy drive, and it is successful--I have a feeling it will  be--the job is yours.”

You practically jumped out of your seat, grabbing Namjoon’s hand and shaking it in excitement.  

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You will not be disappointed. I will be the best assistant to you and this toy drive means too much to me for it to fail.” 

Namjoon grinned, his dimples showing out again. “You can talk to Jung Hoseok in the HR department. He’ll get you ready to be an employee of Persona. I want you to work tomorrow morning.”

Nodding, you moved to stand up and leave before remembering to bow in respect. 

“Thank you so much.”

“No, thank you. Not only will I have some of this paperwork done, but I’ll be getting very good advertisement for the company. It’s a win-win.”

“Right. How much paperwork do you have exactly?”

“It’s been about two months since my intern left, so…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. 

“I’ll be here bright and early then,” you said giggling. “See you tomorrow.”

Closing the door behind you, you glanced around for your best friend. You found him near the coffee machine in the far corner. As you sidled next to him, you poked him, making him jump.

“___! That didn’t take too long. How did it go?”

“We should probably wake up early enough to eat breakfast before we both have to be at work.”

 The news took a minute to  register in his brain. He took your hands and brought you in for a hug. 

“I told you you’d get it! And no, we’re not waking up that early. We can breakfast here--there’s an all-day buffet set up in the kitchen. Speaking of, you might not even know where that is, so I’ll have to give you a tour of the place. But there’s a few hours til I have a lunch break.”

“It’s fine. I have to go to HR anyway and fill out some paperwork.” 

“Min Yoongi was just about to go there. Weren’t you?” Seokjin turned towards the stranger in question. Min Yoongi had been completely hidden from you because of Jin’s broad shoulders.  

“Uh, yeah. I can take her.” 

Yoongi held two cups of coffee in his hands and a manila folder tucked into his armpit. He was only missing a bluetooth speaker in his ear and you can say he looked like all of the clients your previous company dealt with.  He was handsome with pale skin and droopy brown eyes. 

You gave him a small smile, and let him lead the way to HR. It was a few floors down so you had to take the elevator. It was a slow ride down. 

“What’s your name by the way?”

“I’m ____. Just got hired.”

“Min Yoongi. You already know that though. I’m a financial analyst.”

“Sounds cool.  How long have you been working here?”

“I was hired last year. I’m assuming you know Seokjin?”

“Yeah, I’m his best friend.”

The conversation came to an awkward pause. Thankfully, the elevator arrived on your floor and Yoongi led you to the office of Jung Hoseok before heading off in the other direction. 

Jung Hoseok was seated behind a desk; his eyes were focused on the computer screen in front of him. He glanced away from his computer to focus on you and smiled.. Everyone here at Persona seemed to have easygoing smiles and it helped settle any uneasiness you had about accepting the job and getting to know your new co-workers. You had rarely interacted with any of your former coworkers outside of meetings.  You hoped to change that. 

“I’m assuming you’re ___? I have the paperwork on that table over there. Salary information, bank information, the usual. Please fill it  out and I will have you as an employee in no time. Take as much time as you need--I won’t be going anywhere soon.”

The paperwork was easy to fill out, taking only a few minutes of your time. You would be paid more than what you were being paid at your former job. You had thirteen vacation days and thirteen sick days, totaling twenty-six days in all for you to take care of yourself. You couldn’t remember the last time you had actually been able to stay home from work for even having a rough day. There was an employee handbook at the end of the stack that you would take home and read. 

“I’m done.”

Hoseok startled, having forgotten you were in the room from how silent you were. You handed him the papers and promptly sat back down, avoiding all conversation with him.  He reminded you of everything you didn’t want in coworkers. 

It took him at least twenty minutes to get you into the system. He turned to you with the prettiest smile on his face. 

“Congratulations! You’re now an employee of Persona. I’ll have an ID ready for you tomorrow when you come in. I’ll meet you in Namjoon’s office.”

Working with Namjoon was poles apart from working with your old boss. He didn’t give you an ungodly amount of work to do just because he could. He let you catch up on the work that had yet to be completed by his intern and gave you enough time to plan the toy drive. 

You’d get so into your work, you’d lose track of time and he would have to guide you out of the office to eat lunch. He treated you to many lunches on several occasions always saying it was in his best interest to keep his assistant fed. You felt it was for more than that. 

Namjoon was very attractive and was definitely your type. Boss-employee relationships only worked out in fanfictions and movies unfortunately. And there was the small detail of the employee handbook strictly advocating for non-relations in the office. 

You’d discern a hint of flirtiness whenever he complimented your outfit for the day. Of course, you thanked him. But you refused to flirt back. There was no point in indulging in the flirting game. He was your boss and that’s all he would be for as long as you had this job. 

Biting into a sandwich that you brought for lunch, you go over the email once more. It was an email for the employees of the company to donate any toy they could. The deadline was the 24th considering everyone had Christmas off. A week and then the children could have a special Christmas filled with toys and cheer.  You only needed Namjoon to approve it and send it off. You had asked Park Jimin, who was part of the marketing team, to create little animations for you. They were the cutest things ever and made the email a lot more friendlier. A snowman waved, there was snowfall, and even Santa bringing a toy to a child. Jimin had completely outdone himself for you. 

Namjoon would be back from lunch in a couple of minutes, so you decided to sit in his office and wait for him.  It was only next door to your office so you didn’t mind and you could straighten up his filing while you were in there. 

Soon you were lost in the work of rearranging his file system. It was weird to see that man was usually always well-kept, but his organization skills were a little lackluster. No wonder he hired you on the spot. A picture was at the bottom of the file cabinet--Namjoon didn’t want everything to be on the computer for emergencies. Picking it up, you see a dimpled child with his arms around what you assumed was his mother. His face was covered in chocolate but you knew that it was a young Namjoon. They were sitting at a table filled with different foods and you could make out a Christmas tree in the background. A familiar tree. 

You had spent many hours and years in front of that tree. It belonged to your mother’s shelter. Your favorite ornament to hang on it was a Strawberry Shortcake ornament that your father had given you before the three of you moved to South Korea. That's how you recognized the tree. The ornament hung low from the Christmas tree exactly where you always put it. Namjoon had been there. You couldn’t remember ever meeting him considering you always spent your Christmases in the shelter with the families. 

You would have recalled seeing dimples as deep as his. 

A tiny gasp alerted you that you were being nosey. 

“Namjoon! I’m sorry. I was just re-organizing the cabinet. I didn’t mean to pry..but I found out something you might want to hear.”

“And what would that be?” His tone wasn’t angry but it still had a little attitude. 

“You used to stay at my mom’s shelter. Small world,” you started to giggle before realizing what exactly his and his mother’s staying truly meant. “Maybe you don’t want to hear that.”

To your astonishment, Namjoon smiled at you. A small one but your heart still fluttered. He wasn’t entirely mad at you. 

“Yeah. When Seokjin mentioned you for the position, I instantly recognized your name. I wanted to hire you right then. You had been so nice to me and my mother that it stuck with me for all these years. Obviously you don’t remember me as much as I remember you though.” 

“It’s probably because I’ve been so focused on the toy drive. I really want to surprise them this year. It’s the most I can do to show them that they’re not completely alone in the world. That people are thinking of them and want to help them.” “And I think this gesture would make everyone happy. I know I would have loved something like this.”

“And I would have gladly given it to you. But I was only ten years old at the time. But for right now, I need you to approve this mass email that advertises the donations of toys.”

Namjoon let out a guttural laugh and sat in his chair to review the email. 

 It was the 24th--the final day of the donation drive. Your co-workers had been dropping off toys since the email went out. The storage room on your floor was filled to the brim and you were beyond ecstatic.  There were doll-houses, kitchenettes, monster trucks, board games, painting sets, bicycles (with the training wheels), and even things for the older kids staying at the shelter. Namjoon had thought some of the toys could even go to another shelter in the city. You decided to pick a homeless shelter knowing there were a few kids there as well.  

Namjoon had helped you rent a truck for the day that would aid in loading and transporting the toys across the city to the shelters. Jin, Jungkook, Jimin, Hoseok, Yoongi, and the new intern, Taehyung, had offered to help as well.  You were grateful for the help and thanked each of them for giving up a portion of their Christmas to help you deliver the toys.  

Loading the truck took hours as there were many toys. You treated everyone to a few drinks and dinner for all the help they were giving you. 

“Here’s to seeing the smiling faces on the children tomorrow when we deliver the toys!”

Throwing back the shot glass of soju, you whooped and whistled along with the men around you. The plan wasn’t to drink too much as you had to be up bright and early in order to deliver the toys to both shelters in time before the children woke up.  

The shelter leaders had already promised to try and keep them from going near the tree before nine that morning. 

After eating, you all made your way to your cars--of course you had back with Seokjin and Jungkook. You reminded everyone to meet at the office. You and Namjoon would be driving the truck, while everyone else trailed after you in their cars.

The morning could not come soon enough for you. 

 Waking up wasn’t hard for you at all. The exhilaration coursing through your body was enough to get you to hop off the bed and into the showers without so much as a grown. The bonnet you had placed on your head the night before had kept your hair in tip top shape as usual. You could always trust a bonnet. 

Finger combing out the curls that had flattened a little through the night, your afro soon came to its puffy and natural state of bouncy curls.  

You rushed to put on the ugly sweater outfit you had bought for this occasion before rushing out of the door, colliding into Jungkook and Jin. They, like you, were excited for the day ahead of you. 

The three of you packed yourself into Jin’s car and blasted Mariah Carey’s Christmas album for the short ride to Persona. 

The rest of your group was already waiting for you. Jimin had made hot chocolate for the lot of you, and after a brief moment of making sure the toys were all packed into the truck, Namjoon and you climbed into the front seats, and took off. 

Namjoon was singing off-key to ‘What Do the Lonely Do on Christmas’--a classic love of yours--creating a symphony of giggles from you. The Christmas cheer was big in all of you, especially the tall giant that is Namjoon.   He was showing a much goofier side of him that you would have loved to see more of in the office. The man was carefree most of the time,but he always held this air of seriousness. You couldn’t help but wonder if his childhood had created some of that. 

The shelter was slowly moving into your vision as you got closer and closer. You heartbeat picked up, realizing just how much you missed being here with your mom and dad. They were some of the best memories you could ever have. However, your mom began to think that the shelter wasn’t the best place for you to grow up in and made you stay with your father at home or in his office. You had always come back, but it was always too crowded and the children never wanted to play with you since you were in high school. You thought it was because they couldn’t relate to you since you hadn’t been in their position. 

Namjoon pulled into the drive of your mother’s shelter, parking the car to where the trunk faced the door for easy access. 

Your mother was waiting for you at the front door and gave you a tight hug. 

“Hey baby girl! I’ve been waiting for you. The kids are going to love waking up to these.”

“I know Mama,’ you turned to introduce the boys. A bashful Namjoon was already behind you.

“I’m not sure if you remember but this is Kim Namjoon.  He used to stay here.”

It took your mother a minute to recognize him. He had grown up so much from the scrawny little one he used to be. Always hiding under his mother unless he was playing with you. 

“Well, I’ll be damned. Kim Namjoon. Son of Kim Eunha. Boy, look at you! Come here and give me a hug,” your mother said, her southern drawl prominent in her voice.  She pulled Namjoon into a hug, making the huge man blush a deep red. 

Holding back a giggle, you stuttered, “Mama! Mama! Let him go. We gotta get the toys out the truck or the kids are going to see nine Santas putting  toys under the tree. And it’ll just ruin everything.”

“You’re right. But I won’t be helping,” she laughed.  “Y’all have fun with that. Imma go make some cookies.”

You shook your head, laughing. Namjoon was laughing as well, indicating he remember just how boisterous your mother could be.

“It’s a black mother thing,” you told him. 

Unloading the toys didn’t take as long as loading them did to all of your surprise. The toys that were to be taken to the other shelter stayed in. Namjoon and you were staying here while the rest of the boys took those. 

The living room of the shelter was filled with toys for the little girls and boys, and you couldn’t be happier. For years, it had only been a few toys under there. Most of them had been from your family but you couldn’t afford too many.  

Your ornament on the tree was in the same place it always was. It was slowly losing a few of its colours, but Strawberry Shortcake could still be made out. 

“The famous Strawberry Shortcake. You know, I asked you if I could put it on the year I stayed here. You let me.”

The memory popped up as soon as he said it. 

You were both tired from running around in the snow for hours until Jack Frost started nipping at your noses. You only had enough energy to fix up the tree. Namjoo had asked to put it on, and you almost threw a fit before recalling why he was here. You obliged, and saw how happy it made him.  

“I did. You looked so happy. I think I wanted to kiss you.”

“We did. Right under that mistletoe.”

Blushing, you turned towards where Namjoon pointed and saw the old mistletoe your father put out to trick your mother into kissing him. He put it in the same place knowing she would stop right under it: the entrance to the kitchen. 

“Oh wow. Why am I just now remembering that. We had no idea what we were doing and you even bit me!”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yeah, you totally bit me,” the shriek of laughter you let out was enough to wake the entire shelter, but the memory was too amusing.  How had you forgotten it?

Before he could think of apologizing for the mishap and offer to re-do it, the laughter and shrieks of children waking up and bounding down the stairs interrupted the both of you. 

“Santa came! Santa came! Wow! Look a bike!”

Various gasps and squeals exploded through the living room. The mothers all had cups of hot chocolate, holding back tears of appreciation. Some of the older kids noticed the tablets that had been laid out on the “big kid” table and were soon immersed in figuring out who would get what. 

Your heart squeezed seeing all the happiness unfold around you. This was what you wanted. Just a day for the children and mothers to have a little hope.  

You picked up a gift that you had bought personally the day after seeing that Namjoon had stayed at the shelter. You had lied and said that you hadn’t remembered everything. But you remembered this one.

“Namjoon!” You held out the present for you. It was wrapped in spiderman paper wrapping but it was all you had left.  

He tore it open with vigor and let out a tiny gasp seeing what it was. 

“You remembered?”

“Yep. It was my pinky promise before I left. I always keep my promises.”

It was a leather notebook with a fountain pen. It was something that he could easily buy himself but you recollected the exact conversation you had years ago before leaving the shelter. 

 “Oh, you’re leaving ___?”

“Yeah,” you kicked at a frozen rock, “Mama thinks it’s not safe for me to be here right now. So I’ll be spending time with my Dad in his office from now on. I’ll still come here though. This place means a lot to me. “

“Cool. I won’t be after next week though. My mom finally found a place for the two of us.”

“Aw, I’ll miss you. You owe me another kiss.”

“”And I’ll miss you. I promise you another kiss if you promise me a leather book with a fountain pen.”

The surprised look on your face made him laugh.  

“Uhm, why a leather book with a fountain pen?”

“I want to be a business owner one  day. A leather book and fountain pen are fancy and I’ve seen your dad use one.” “It keeps him organized according to Mama. But I doubt it. Dad would lose his head if it wasn’t attached to his body.”

You both laughed and pinky promised. 

 As much as you didn’t like boss-relationships, you had known Namjoon since your childhood technically. And you would like to get to know him more. Obviously your relationship was going to bloom had you two not been separated.  

Not to mention, he had let you finish the toy drive. Had it not been for him remembering who you were and loving your idea, you wouldn’t have been able to do it. Working for him was a Christmas miracle if you said so yourself. 

It was meant to be.  

“I think you owe me something now.”

Namjoon placed both of his hands on your hips, bringing you in closer to him. His smile showed you the dimples you had come to love to see.  

“I promise this time with no biting.”

Namjoon’s index and thumb lifted your chin up and his soft lips pressed against yours. 

Around you, the kids were tumbling around with their new toys and the teenagers were still fussing over the electronics. 

But the kiss is all that mattered. 

Merry Christmas to you.