Welcome everyone!
I am an aspiring content creator who specializes in:
Fanfics, Screenwriting, and Myths.
22 | Libra | Black Woman | Just trying to survive
Hello, everyone! I couldn't find it, so I decided to make another introduction post that will include a bibliography that will lead to my masterlists.
I am a Black woman, I am also Goth, and I write for my Black woman - especially those of us who are a part of the alternative scene. I write from fanfics to original works, I am currently trying to find my spark again.
Speaking of which... I AM ALSO VERY POLITICAL. My entire being has been used as a political pawn for generations, which means that I will always speak my mind and call out bullshit. Also quick tip... WRITING/LIBERAL ARTS IS POLITICAL. So no, there is no such thing as an "escape from reality" when the craft was built off of ridiculing and forewarning audiences about it.
I also plan to get back into streaming, I do games plus I will also be streaming myself while writing my stories. If you guys want to, you can join my discord where we can all edit each other's stories and even share ideas or simply ask for help/advice - this goes for anyone.
All of my writing will have black women of different orientations - typically my own ethnic background [Trini, Bajan, and Irish of Igbo descent] - with different aesthetics. All of them will have names and descriptions as well.
I'm glad we make you sick. Imagine being so fucking bored that an entire group of people simply existing upsets you. Hopefully the nausea turns you green. It'd be an improvement over whatever you've got going on now, you pale bitch.
You're lame as fuck
Tag list : @cocomilaa @blcknebula @stiflersbabymama @callmeoncette @needjoekeery @nuttyrebelflower @1eliana123-blog @ladyearthsea @rastharex @darkgreengrl @bananajoeclone @violet0182 @minghaossv @melynex @thebabykashmere @ghoulxeg @simply-lovley44
Doing this under Anonymous is quite uh... redundant. Like what was the goal? OP and whoever follows their blog is just to deflate with insecurity? Was it supposed to make them stop making content?
Like... ain't nothing about what you said anything brand new to us. We hear things like this in variations in our everyday lives. Please find something to do with your life
it literally doesn’t matter if you’re in your 20s or 30s or 40s or 50s or 60s or 70s or 80s or fucking 90s. if you’re still alive, you literally still have that chance in your hands. don’t let your mind or anyone or anything trick you into thinking otherwise!!!!
Synopsis: The town of Forks is home to few and a stranger to newcomers. Bella Swan's return to her hometown initiates an unprecedented change in a universe far from her understanding. As her curiosity fuels her obsession over her mysterious yet isolated classmate -- Edward Cullen, Circe Woods falls victim to a curse that has hovered over her family for generations. Forced into a vulnerable state, Circe and her family are forced to take arms against their greatest threat. That 15-year-old girl she once was has been reborn.
Prologue | 1 |
My life has been centered on something far bigger than myself.
My mother would always say that our existence is sourced by a form of nature we as humans overlook a lot.
She, nature, portrays our emotions. Our tears and our angers. Our happiness and our anxiety. However, she lacks a face. She lacks the ability to create a tangible relationship with her children.
Instead, she births life to those who are to enforce her wrath. Enact her joy and protect her from her horrors.
Circe Woods and her mother, Corinne Woods, were not strangers to the damp, somber atmosphere of their little town of Forks, Washington. The home of 3,120 people, constantly covered in shrouds of clouds and rain, its people live within a bubble – surrounded by forests and wildlife, far from the crowded bustling urban world. A town filled with families that know one another, privacy a lack luster fantasy.
In the eyes of their fellow townsfolk, the Woods have always been a good family. Granted, their family name hadn't lived in the town for centuries, but the impact of Corinne's parents and their legacy spoken so grand it could be mistaken as an art of mythology, was enough to cement the family in a good light. Circe's uncle, Charlie Swan – another Forks borne hero, was an even stranger story.
The Swans – a midwestern family conjured of farmers and hunters – made Forks a home where their son, Charlie, felt accepted. His childish soul found solace in the presence of other children by the names of William 'Billy' Black, Harry Clearwater, Quil Ateara IV, and Corinne. Though separated by their racial differences, the group had found a family in each other.
To put it bluntly, Circe was a genuine mistake. A child born of blind intimacy, her lack of a father was a weaponized joke used to attack her own character and that of her mother's. As her mother's best friend and the girl's godfather, Charlie had proudly taken his stance as a father in Circe's life. Undoubtedly, she, too, had filled the hole in his heart left behind by his daughter, Bella.
Left alone and forced to face the grief of his parents' passing by himself, Charlie had solely lived his life without a thought. His responsibility as Chief of Police, sworn to protect the home of his family and friends, motivated him greatly but even then – it could never compare to the warmth that settled in his heart whenever he was around his wife and their little Isabella. And now, after years of living away in Phoenix, the young Swan was to return to her hometown and live out the last of her high school years with her father.
"Are you excited to see Bella again, love?" Corinne asks, eyes focused on the road before her.
Circe hums in thought for a moment, almond shaped eyes studying the repetitive blur of trees from her window. "Somewhat," she answers. "Bella's not going to remember me, much less socialize with the likes of a freshman."
"Oh, don't be so ridiculous," Corinne scoffs. "If she is still the same Bella as before then there's no doubt, she'd be happy to have a familiar face at school."
Corinne pulls into the muddy driveway of the Swan house; the duo jumps out of the F-150. Circe snorts, "at least she won't have to spend her time parenting her dad."
"Eh!" Corinne gasps, lightly smacking her daughter's stomach. "I told you that in secret. Don't say any of that in front of Charlie."
Bursting through the front door of the white, two-story house was a tall, slightly muscular man dawning a black, badged fleece lined coat. The uniformed man was of cool ivory skin and dark features. His dark brown, nearly black, hair was cut short and pointed every which way. His moustache was rounded and brushed over his top lip. Earthy colored eyes carried a natural sink that drastically contrasted against the slight bemusement that flashed across the onyx gems.
"Corinne, Circe," he happily greets the mother and daughter. His arms wrap tightly around Corinne's waist, landing a swift peck on the woman's cheek. "It's good to see you both."
He lets go of Corinne and pulls Circe into a one arm hug. Behind him, a short – almost frail – appearing girl steps onto the small porch. Her small figure inches towards the three, hooded brown eyes darting between the wet dirt under her battered Converse and the mirky eyes of Circe.
"Bella, you might remember them, but this is Corinne Davis and her daughter, Circe," Charlie introduces each party.
Corinne smiles at the girl, greeting her with a nod. "It's good to see you, love." Bella nods back, "it's good to see you as well."
"Hey, I'm Circe," the 15-year-old waves. "We used to play with the hens on my family's farm." Bella nods, a light chuckle slipping past her lips. "I remember."
She points at the younger girl, eyes squinting. "Is the one... it was like, black and gray. Very aggressive –" The short teen giggles, "Lucille is still kicking. Literally."
The sound of an engine revving down the slick road, a soft honk splitting the awkward tension. Two smaller, older trucks pull in front of the house. The slim, rusted champagne truck was driven by a natural golden man with silk dark hair dressed in flannel and a trucker hat.
Ahead of him in the orange truck was a boy that appeared as a younger copy of the older man. The boy jumps out of the truck, jogging over to his father's truck. He picks up a folded wheelchair from the bed of the Chevy, opening and locking it outside of his father's door. Charlie walks over to the truck and helps the boy pull the man from his seat.
Settled, the three return to the girls. Charlie looks at his daughter once more, nodding at the newcomers. "Bella, these are the Blacks," he introduces.
"This is Billy—" Bella interrupts with a warm shake of the hand as she greets the elder. "Billy Black, you're looking good," she smiles.
The man shrugs, confidently, "well, I'm still dancing." Corinne snorts, "more like spinning." The three adults giggle, sharing glances. Billy continues speaking to Bella, "I'm glad you're finally here."
"Charlie hasn't shut up about it since you told him you were coming," he sides eyes the Chief. Charlie rolls his eyes, turning to walk away. "Keep exaggerating, I'll roll you into the mud," he playfully threatens.
Billy spins in his wheelchair, "after I ram you in the ankles." The two begin to wrangle in the street, Corinne rolls her eyes and follows them.
In the meanwhile, the long-haired boy steps forward with a sheepish look. "Hi, I'm Jacob," he silently gulps. "We used to make mud pies together." His puppy-like eyes bounce between the two girls.
"Right, right," Bella nods. "I remember. Circe would make these huge ones and nail her mom's dates with them." Jacob chuckles, nodding.
He fully stares at the shorter party, studying the appearance of his friend. Circe had a beauty that was seen far and in few with almond eyes fueled with mirth and logic. Thick hair was braided and twisted, spiraling down her spine and brushing the middle of her back. The dark brown tresses mix with platinum strands like the most delicious two-toned ice cream.
Unlike most of the adolescents of Forks, she dawned dark clothes and thick boots. Her loose, knitted sweater overlapped the dark grey camisole and the sleeves droop dramatically past her small digits. Her fitted yet baggy jeans were held to her waist by a thick, bejeweled belt and torn at the knees while the shiny yet scratched tips of her boots peak through the mounds of fabric. Her accessories were a consistent theme of turquois, symbols of balance, and spiders.
She sends him a slanted grin, "Jacob." He turns flustered, back straightening as his hands dig deeper into the back pockets of his jeans. Nervous, a chuckle escapes him before a quiet: "Circe," leaves his tongue.
Outside of Nature creating these divine children, there's an aspect of life that not even she could outsmart.
Every creature that exists has another half. A friend. A lover. A sanctuary.
And despite our hearts being promised at creation, the journey to find one another is a test crafted to rebirth the souls as one union.
Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Black!OC! Fraiser D. Itsara
Synopsis: Forced to leave behind her family, Itsara parts with a plan: To become the World's Strongest Woman. Collecting funds off of bounty hunting and being a barmaid in the East Blue, the young woman's chance to return to sea comes in the form of a young kid with a straw hat and a rather audacious dream.
1.1 | 1.2 |
Itsara struts from the kitchen, plates stuffed with food were lifted in both hands. She swerves her way through tables with ease, reaching the messy table where two odd teen boys sat together. The pink haired boy kept his head on a swivel with a suspicious, hesitant gaze while the straw hat wearing boy dug into the food like a maniac.
"Okay, here's your honey butter rolls," she sets the basket down before using both hands to set down the prime rib. "And your prime rib."
The pink haired boy looks up at her with unease. "Oh, no, we didn't order-" Straw hat cuts him off eagerly, "no, more is good. More is better, we gotta feed the brain." Itsara chuckles, "right. Sure."
Stationed back at the bar, Itsara cleans and replenishes customers when a green haired swordsmen struts inside with a bloody sack dragging behind him. Roronoa Zoro, the Demon Hunter. Itsara makes a mental note, face stoic.
"A bottle for me, and one for my friend," he orders casually. "He's had a rough day."
Itsara perks an eyebrow with amusement, "hm. And I'm sure he'd appreciate your consideration." A small smirk stretches across the teen's face as he watches her pull out two beer bottles.
Setting them in front of Zoro, she pops their caps off before whisking off to her other customers. From behind, Rika walks up to the bounty hunter with a plate of her specialty rice balls. The man looks over, slightly uninterested. "What's that?" He asks.
"Rice balls," she shrugs, "for you." Zoro keeps his voice empty but his gaze softens. "You made them yourself?" The girl nods, before glancing over at Itsara, "well... Kinda. Big sis Sara had to help me, but the idea is all me."
Zoro gazes down at the food with an investigative stare, "what's the brown stuff?" Rika perks up with excitement, explaining the method to her madness. "Chocolate. Makes everything taste better," she answers.
"Rika?" Her mother calls out to the girl. She goes to turn around only for her to smack into the chest of Shells Town's very own pest. Her tray of rice balls splatter across Helmeppo's purple velvet vest, the clatter of the dish was enough to make the bar freeze.
The blond brat glares down at the girl. "You stupid, stupid girl," he spits with anger. Slowly, Itsara steps from behind the bar, eyeing down the cursing man. He crushes the food underneath the curvy, leather tip of his fine shoes.
"Why don't you watch where you're going?" He snarls. Rika's mother, Ramia, gulps anxiously as her eyes dart from Itsara and back to her daughter. "Rika," she calls, softly, "apologize to our guest."
Frozen in fear and distraught, the young girl stutters through her words. "I'm... I'm so sorry," she whispers, her little heart nearly bursting against her ribs. Helmeppo mocks her whimper, "I'm so sorry!"
He leans down to the girl, "next time, I won't be so nice." Itsara walks up to the blond when Zoro bends down to the smashed rice balls, "you dropped my food." Everyone stops and watches as he eats the food from the floor.
"Mm," he hums, looking over his shoulder at Rika. "Delicious." Itsara blinks, not sure if she should be disgusted or appreciative of the swordsmen. He picks up the plate, setting it on the counter, and looks up at Helmeppo.
Zoro nods his head toward the plate, eyes staring through the blond. "Now you eat one," he softly orders. Helmeppo laughs condescendingly as Zoro continues, "and apologize to the girl."
He steps to the swordsman, "do you know who I am?" Itsara looks at Rika and motions the girl towards her. The girl nods, rushing over as fast as she could now that she was no longer the center of Helmeppo's attention.
"A shit head marine with a bad haircut," Zoro happily answers after eyeing the man. Helmeppo draws his sword, aiming the blade at an unbothered Zoro. "I wouldn't do that," he warns, eyes closed.
Helmeppo tilts his head, ignoring the warning, "oh come on, tough guy," he teases. "Three swords?" He laughs. "I only need one." Zoro opens his eyes, "okay. But it's gonna hurt."
Helmeppo swings the sword for Zoro's head, only for the blow to be blocked by his scabbard. With an air of nonchalance and confidence, the swordsmen simply disarms the man without drawing his blade. Left crawling on the floor, Helmeppo whimpers as he reaches for his sword. From around the bar, Marines begin to step to Zoro in order to protect the audacious shit talker.
With a smirk, Itsara's tatted arms glow purple as a portal of darkness circles her hands only to then be replaced by two circular blades. She takes a step towards the madness, sending the disc in her left hand with a powerful swing. The blade soars, curving around, before knocking down the closest Marine beside Zoro.
The swordsmen shifts his gaze to who he had believed to be an everyday barmaid, his face stoic yet his eyes glint with surprise. He watches as she sends him a cheeky grin before disappearing, a dark purple portal opens in the sky behind him. Falling from it, Itsara catches a rushing Marine with a meteora.
The points of her knees smashing the marine head first into the wood. She rolls forward onto her hands, kick flipping to her feet. Itsara juggles the disc from her right hand to her left, using it to parry a marine's swing, while her right hand stretches out. Her other blade, lodging in the first marine's chest, glows purple before it flies to the palm of her hand.
With both blades in her clutches, the woman begins to work like a well oiled machine, slicing, disappearing, and reappearing over the bar. Working in cahoots, Zoro slices through the other half of the hoard with ease; the two unintentionally working hand in hand. Once Itsara's eyes fall onto Helmeppo's, she quickly suplexes her current opponent before rushing towards him.
He watches with wide, horrified eyes as she disappears before his blade could pierce her chest. When she reappears from behind, she slides between his legs and with a strong hold of his jacket, she picks up the Marine and slams him onto his back. He gasps for air, quietly freaking out within her clutches.
"You really shouldn't draw your blade unless you're prepared to use it," she scolds, leaning over his folded body. His lip trembles, "don't... don't kill me, please. My father will give you anything you want."
Zoro steps towards them, "who's your father?" Helmeppo and Itsara answer together, "Captain Morgan." The blond continues, "he's in charge of the Marine base." Itsara smirks, glancing over at Zoro, "I think Mr. 7 is worth the payout."
While Helmeppo's eyebrows scrunch with confusion, Zoro looks down at her with wonder yet caution. If she knows of Mr. 7, she could either be another bounty hunter or a co-worker of his, Zoro clenches his jaw in thought.
"Damn right, he is," Zoro agrees with Itsara. She picks the blond up by his collar and pushes him into the swordsmen's chest. "Well, he's all yours," she chuckles. "I've got a bar to clean."
She watches as Zoro drags both Helmeppo and Mr. 7's corpse to the 153rd Marine base. Once they were out the door, she then turns to face Ramia and Rika. Rika lunges for the older girl's thighs, hugging her tight with relief, while Ramia holds a knowing look.
🗺️🗺️🗺️
"Are you certain your dream is worth the trouble?" Ramia's soft voice speaks from behind Itsara.
The woman comes to a pause, dressed entirely different from her greasy, stained uniform. Her top with a leather vest and strapped to the back was a holster for a long dense stick. The vest cut off in the middle of her abdomen, her muscular torso glistens in the pale light of the moon. Paired with the top, she dawns black jeans that was strapped with knots that her disc had hung from. Her indigo colored curls were pushed back by a matching bandana, showcasing a long scar along her left eye.
She sighs, "you know how important the Grand Line is to me. You knew it when you allowed me to overstay my welcome." The mother nods, "I did. But that doesn't mean I'll ever agree with the idea of you putting yourself in danger."
"It's all I've ever known," Itsara purses her lips, sitting on the edge of what once was her bed. Ramia joins her side. "When you first told me that you had dreams of being the world's strongest, I never doubted you," she trails.
The teen raises an eyebrow, "but?" The woman continues, "my doubts started to come when you told me the reason why. Itsara, your brother, would be pleased to see you make it to the Grand Line regardless if you were the strongest person alive or the same little girl he remembers."
"True," Itsara nods. "He'd still be disappointed though. We made an oath when Cora-san sacrificed himself for us before we were separated, if I'm to be anywhere, it's by his side stronger than ever. And that's what I'll be." She looks at Ramia with an aura of determination.
Ramia then nods, "okay. I'll make sure to tell Rika you'll be gone in the morning, just be safe. Please?" Itsara smiles, giving the woman a short nod, "of course I will!"
🗺️🗺️🗺️
The following morning was different than the others. The hot sun beamed on Itsara's tatted shoulders as she rushes along the shadows of the marine base, using the voids as her ears and personal map. She kept rushing until a conversation caught her attention.
"Captain Morgan sent me to find a map of The Grand Line ahead of his security briefing this afternoon." Another voice responds, "why would he do that? All maps pertaining to The Grand Line are kept under lock and key in his private office."
Itsara smirks, "got him." With that, she becomes intangible and forms a shadow that crawls across the walls of the base. Seems like I'm not the only one with a purpose, I've gotta make this fast and as quiet as possible.
She then leaps into the shadow of a marine, the lot switching monitor shifts. Using that as her moment, she slips underneath the door and materializes with a breath of relief at the empty office. She begins to study the room, humming mindlessly to herself.
"If I was an arrogant, one handed prick with access to a map, what could possibly be the greatest hiding spot?" She sings, pulling and tapping on every corner when the door begins to click and open.
With a soft gasp, she dissolves, becoming one with the floor. From the darkness, she watches as the always hungry straw hat kid walks in with a random orange haired girl dressed in uniform. They start to ramble, the girl shifting through all of Morgan's belongings on his desk.
"Every idiot dreams of finding the One Piece," the orange haired girl scoffs. "People like you believe in something and you don't even know what it is."
Straw hat aims the telescope at the girl. "So why did you decide to become a thief?" She glances at him before continuing her shuffling, "I didn't decide. I needed to eat. You do what you have to, to survive."
"You're right," the boy walks over to her. "Nothing's more important than food." The girl rolls her eyes, "just find the map." The straw hat looks at Morgan's mantle of axes with an eye of interest.
He looks at the largest one in the line up and pulls it down, causing the desk to pull away from the girl. As it glides across the room, underneath it was the very safe all three parties were in search for. Itsara then appears behind the duo with an abysmal smirk.
"Why, you two made my job so much easier," she alerts them. Two quickly turn around, eyes widening even more than before at the sight of the familiar woman. The orange haired girl squints her eyes, "you're the weird disappearing girl from the bar."
Straw hat smiles, pointing at Itsara, "yeah! You gave me all that food and you were an awesome fighter." The older woman smiles, "why thanks. I've learned from the best. Now, if you don't mind, I have a safe to take with me."
"Wait, wait," the younger girl glares at the woman, "you're here for the safe? I thought you're from here, you know, working at the bar?" Itsara snorts, "just like how you have your purpose in life, so do I. Now move, tangerine."
They watch as Itsara kneels down, her hands lay flat against the cold metal door of the safe. Her arms glow before it wraps around the safe. "Good, at least I know my efforts haven't been wasted then. Hopefully, I can get this popped before--"
An alarm blares, cutting her off. Itsara closes her eyes, releasing a heavy sigh. "Let me guess, you've left a trail?" She kisses her teeth, "always leave it to a group of amateurs." She then puts her focus onto her power and the safe, using it to shift through the gears of the dial.
"Amateur?" Orange hair repeats with ridicule. "Excuse me, but A? I'm not with him. And B? I'm not an amateur. If him and you weren't here, I'd already have this safe opened and I'd be on my home by now!"
Unbothered, Itsara simply chimes, "you can stop lying. I know it was you who left the trail in the map room. I'm a member of the shadows, I wasn't born yesterday." Straw hat leans between them, "you think they know we're here?"
"No," Orange hair scoffs, "I think they're after the other thief and idiot pirate trying to steal a map." Straw hat smirks, "what are the odds of that?" Orange hair sends him a glare causing him to reply, "kidding!"
He looks at Itsara, "oh uh, barmaid, you might wanna work a bit faster." She raises an eyebrow, "not a barmaid. The name's Itsara, and you don't think I'm trying?" The door bangs, letting them know that Morgan and the band of Marines were waiting for them on the other side.
"Open up!" Morgan shouts, slamming his fist down, "by the authority of the 153rrd Marines!" Together, Straw hat and Orang hair leans over Itsara, "you have to hurry up! He's putting a hole in the door!" Itsara snarls, "I can't rush it! Maybe if you two didn't come here, we wouldn't be in this situation."
Straw hat taps Itsara on the shoulder, "I have an idea." She rolls her eyes, moving to her feet as he bends down and begins to pull at the safe. Both her and Orange hair watch him struggle with a deadpan. "That's your idea?" Orange hair yells.
As Straw hat keeps pulling, his arms stretch causing Orange hair and Itsara's eyes to widen. "Devil fruit user," Itsara mumbles under her breath. Orange hair wraps her arms around Straw hat's waist as the safe begins to lift from its bolts.
With a judgemental look, Itsara's gaze bounces between them and the safe. "Well this ain't good at all," she scoffs and watches them launch out the window with the safe. Behind her, Captain Morgan kicks in through the shattered door. Once they make eye contact, he growls and charges for her.
Itsara smirks and dissolves just as he goes to swing for her. He falls forward, forced to watch as the safe turns into a spec of dust in the sky. She lands in the courtyard, watching as Straw hat turns their bodies around midair to use the safe to soften their landing. She winces, watching them scramble in amusement.
"Enjoy the ride?" She laughs. Straw hat looks over at her, "of course!" Orange tears off her disguise, looking at the boy, "how did you do that?"
From behind crowds of marines come running towards them from all sides. Itsara draws her twin sticks, twirling them in her hands. "Less questions, more fighting," she teases before jumping in the hoard.
With fire-hardened sticks, she swings them like a pair of dual swords, cracking them against her opponents. Her movements were swift, powerful, and precise like she was dancing and finding joy in the fight. Using her powers, she blips across the yard, leaving little see-through portals in her wake. Always, curious, Straw hat leaps through one with a laugh and lands on a marine's back.
"This is so cool!" He shouts, kicking and swinging before leaping through another portal. Itsara laughs as well, "welcome to my world!"
Outside of the fight, a freed Zoro jogs for the door, trying his best to avoid any and all attention. As he reaches the doors, he comes to a stop and takes a look over his shoulder at the commotion. He watches as the Orange haired girl slowly becomes overwhelmed before glancing over at the Straw hat boy to see the same happen to him.
His eyes then watch as the same powerful woman from the bar, fights through waves in order to reach the two. Her twin sticks were now swapped with her disc blades, soaring through the dust filled air with streaks of purple. Zoro clenches his jaw, his hand grips at the swords knotted on his hip. He runs in her direction, sliding through the sand on his knees as he cuts down one marine after the other.
Zoro leaps into a flying kick, pressing his foot into a rushing marine's chest before jumping down onto two others. He lands behind Itsara, the two standing back to back as they finish off the crowd -- a reminiscent of yesterday at the bar. Once their hoard had been slain, Straw hat and Orange hair appears beside them.
"Aren't you that drunk from the bar?" Orange hair looks at Zoro. Itsara chuckles, "that's one way to describe him." He smirks, "glad I made an impression."
Across from them, Captain Morgan struts over. "The imposter, the pirate hunter, the prisoner, and the heart pirate," he growls as his eyes run over all four of them. "Fancy that. The four of you working together."
"Yea, we're a crew!" Straw hat belts. "Nope, not a crew," Zoro and Orange hair denies. Itsara shakes her head, "I already have one." Morgan ignores them, "no enemy has ever escaped my wrath."
"I alone defeated the Black Cat Pirates," he lists, "I alone captured Kuro of the Thousand Plans. And I alone keep Shells Town safe from the scum of the East Blue." Itsara hums, "possibly true, there has been no proof of his death, and the scum is your scrawny son."
Morgan glares down at her, ripping off his jacket. The four stand ready, arms itching to swing on anyone that comes for them. As Morgan charges, Zoro makes the first move while Straw hat backs him up. Behind them, Orange hair and Itsara hold off the remaining marines, both ready to get their day over with.
"Gum Gum..." Straw hat draws out, "whip!" He kicks his leg out, the stretched ligament swings over Zoro's head and slams Morgan into the brick wall surrounding them.
Zoro side eyes the kid, "gum gum whip?" Straw hat smiles, "yea. All the best fighters call out their moves." Without meaning to, both Zoro and Itsara replies, "no they don't."
Orange hair looks at the safe, putting her staff away. "Hate to break up this beautiful moment, but we need to get this safe out of here," she crosses her arms in thought. "Maybe if we find some rope or something."
Itsara rolls her eyes, bending down to pick up the safe when Zoro stops her with a stiff arm to the stomach. He steps forward, without a word, and lifts the safe over his head. "Or we can do that," Orange hair looks at him with surprise. Itsara follows after them, watching his hands slightly shake with amusement.
Orange hair reaches the boat first, preparing the sales. Zoro slams the safe forward causing her to glare at him, "careful with that!" He grunts, "whatever you say. Oh, wait," he rolls his eyes, "I don't work for you."
"I'm sensing a little bit of tension amongst the crew," Straw hat looks between the two. Like clockwork, the three chime back, "not a crew!" Straw hat then looks up and down the docks with a look of concern. "I can't leave without my friend," he states.
Zoro shakes his head, "can't wait. The Marines will be here before you know it." Helmeppo walks around a container of cargo, two loaded guns in hand and a rather messy haircut. "The Marines are here already. You're under arrest."
Straw hat laughs, "what's wrong with his hair?" Zoro smirks, "yea, I might've done that." Itsara shakes her head, laughing, "you, Roronoa, are an artist." He shakes his head, laughing as well.
Helmeppo then takes a shot at Zoro only to miss horribly. "I won't let you make a joke of me," he shouts. "I'm taking you in and handing you over to my father. I'll be the hero, I might even get a medal or something." A fist swings across his face, mid-monologue.
The pink-haired boy from before appears in Helmeppo's place, wincing. "Koby?" Straw hat gawks. Pink haired, Koby, rubs at his wrist, "God, that hurt!" He smiles, "it also felt really good, too."
Straw hat runs over, dragging him back, "no time to explain, but we gotta go. This whole island is trying to kill us." Koby stops, "I'm not coming with you." Straw hat stops and to Itsara's surprise, he turns around with a smile.
"You sure?" He asks. "Before we met, every choice was made for me. But now I'm gonna do what I want to do. I'm gonna be a marine, I want to help people that can't help themselves. Next time we meet, we might be enemies."
Straw hat smirks, "but for now... we're friends." He gives a warm pat on the boy's shoulder before hopping on the boat. Koby then kicks them away from the dock, watching as the boat slowly sets off.
Synopsis: When one makes history, the public begins to strip them of their humanity for the fun of it. Michael finds his escape for joy in his music and a whimsical world that no one seems to understand. Enyo thrives in a world where being whimsical and playing pretend is her norm. When their worlds cross paths, the lonely Prince strays from his "destined" path and finds safety with the dangerous dragon.
Prologue | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 |
1971 - June
“Welcome everyone! We are here tonight to celebrate the Los Angeles premiere of the blaxploitative action film, Shaft, starring Richard Roundtree,” a journalist speaks excitedly into her recorder.
She continues, “the crowd behind me is anticipately waiting for the strong lead cast to appear outside of the Fox Theatre. There’s little boys dressed up as little Shafts as well, I can tell that they’re ready to settle in and get to the action.” A roar of cheers bursts behind her, cutting off the end of her sentence.
The woman bounces on the tips of her toes, cranking her neck in hopes that she’d catch a glance on what could’ve started such an uproar. A fellow journalist beside her shouts, “the cast is pulling up!”
The first limo to pull up and pool onto the red carpet was the director, Gordon Parks. He quickly turns to face the inside of the limo, arm out and waiting. A gloved arm carefully wraps around his forearm and a heeled foot follows after. As Gordon guides the woman out of the car, he reveals his second wife, Elizabeth Campbell, to the cameras. The two smile and wave at the cameras as they make their way down the carpet and to the theatre doors.
Gordon’s limo is guided off and replaced by another one. The driver opens the backseat and out steps Richard Roundtree with his wife Mary Jane Grant. Following Gordon, the duo repeats the same procedure as a new limo pulls up behind them. As the producers and music composers made their way out, the next in line to appear was Enyo and Michael.
The first to step out was Enyo’s personal security and following after them was her father Carson. Carson looks into the backseat and helps Enyo step out, showcasing her white heeled boots. Her flowy, pastel yellow dress radiates underneath the blinding lights. Her thick hair was blown out and curled away from her face. For a moment, the crowd watches the father-daughter duo stand still with confusion.
The journalists were expecting the child star to do another family-friendly appearance at an event until they saw a suited up Michael step out of the limo right behind her. To match her, he was in a pastel yellow and cocoa brown patch designed suit with white boots.Carson lets the family security team lead Enyo and Michael down the carpet as he and Leigha bring up the rear with the rest of the Jeter children and the Jackson 5 boys.
The journalist from before waves her hand, calling out, “Enyo! Enyo! Just a few questions, please!” The girl smiles, her and Michael making their way over. The journalist smiles as the two kids give her the time of day without hesitation.
“It’s so nice to see you two tonight, you look absolutely wonderful with the matching yellow. Whose idea was it? Was there a theme?” She starts off, breaking the ice. Enyo giggles, “the matching idea was definitely Michael’s, but the yellow theme was chosen by my stylist. She wanted to show that Hollywood has two new stars.”
The journalist nods, “and I can absolutely agree that her message is not biased. Even though this is your first big studio film, you’ve already had the pleasures of working with legendary names and having your own make headlines, labeling you as a prodigy. How does being a part of this film feel in comparison?”
“I’d say,” the teen hums in thought, “being a part of Shaft feels like this is just the start of something I was being prepared for, for years. I don’t think that my progression stops here, my manager doesn’t think that; I see every film and play I’ve done as stepping stones to where this film will lead me to.”
The journalist nods, a proud yet respectful smile dawns her face. “Absolutely, and one last question, so you can get inside for your film. Who’s your date and how did this even come about?” She inquires with a joking tone.
The two kids laugh, glancing to see who was gonna speak up first. Michael then steps up to the recorder, “I’m Michael Jackson. I’m a member of the Jackson 5.” He motions to the group of brothers behind him, posing and talking to journalists.
“So, Michael, how long have you and Enyo known each other?” She asks, “is this more so like a friendly date to support a friend?” He nods his head, “yeah! Enyo and I met back on the Diana Ross Tv Special. We both made our appearances and even had a few skits together, then recently my family and I had become her nextdoor neighbor.”
The woman’s eyebrows raise in shock, “oh! That had to surprise the both of you, would you say that things are meant to happen for a reason?” The two adolescent stars speak in sync, “absolutely!” Enyo giggles, “I’ve never been big on coincidences. I genuinely think that some things are meant to teach us and never to be seen again while others I meant to do the same, but stay. Like a reward.”
A soft grin takes a hold of the woman’s face before she sends the impactful duo a contemplative nod, “that’s beautiful. Well, that’s all I have for tonight, I hope you two enjoy the fruits of your labor because I know that this film is going to be incredible. Have a goodnight, guys.”
Michael then leads Enyo away, the two waving at the woman as the security detail circles them and keeps them pushing forward. As they enter the theatre, they’re then guided by the publicists to their balcony. “Ooh, girl, I can’t wait to see your skills on the screen,” Michael jumps, excitement flowing through his little veins.
“I’ve only ever heard descriptions on how you fight from old tournaments, but to see it live? And in a movie?” He rhetorically questions. Enyo shakes her head, “I mean, I did do most of my own stunts. Mr. Roundtree had even declined his own stunt double just so he could try and keep up.” The two children giggle before taking the two seats in the front row of their balcony that sat closer to the screen. Behind Enyo, pops in Marlon - the second youngest of the Jackson brothers. “So, Yo-yo, does this mean that after the movie you’re going to become a big Hollywood star?” He wonders.
“I’m not too sure, Marlon,” she shrugs, “why?” His innocent gaze of curiosity shifts into the gaze of a mastermind with a plan, “well, let me know if it does because I have a list of restaurants I’ve always wanted to try that Joseph and Mother wouldn’t let us go to. I’m sure your status can cover a family of 9 and plus yours, right? Good talk.”
His small hand playfully pats her on the back while beside him sat Magnus and Ezra, who both snort at the absurdity of the Jackson boy. Then yet again, he was the comedian of the Jackson Family. Wild, unfiltered, and utterly absurd. Enyo playfully side-eyes the boy, before slowly shifting her gaze back to the screen. Noticing that the theatre ads had yet to finish as now lucky fans were pooling into their seats, her left arm shoots behind her and over the seat.
Her chubby, calloused digits grasp at Marlon’s collar. Although her grip wasn’t dangerously tight, the speed in which she showcased was enough to strike panic in Marlon’s little heart. “Wait! Wait!” He yelps, alternating his hands to smack at her wrist in a poor attempt to make her let go.
Michael, Magnus, and Ezra really burst into laughter at the two’s actions while Tito and Jackie just watch with their eyebrows scrunched with confusion and exhaustion. Jackie leans into Tito’s ear, “now how in the hell…” However, the elder Jackson boy simply shakes his head, “don’t even.”
Leigha, smiling, leans over Michael and untwists Enyo’s hand from Marlon’s collar. “Alright kids, the movie’s gonna start now, we can have our fun when we leave and head to dinner,” she giggles. Her almond eyes glance at the now stretched out and wrinkled collar poking outwards like an arrow, she curls her lips inwards before slowly retracting back to her seat.
Tears collect in the corner of her eyes, pushing to be released. Carson looks down at her with concern, “what’s wrong, LeLe? Is everything okay?” She nods, chin wobbling as the tears slowly rake down her round cheeks. Trembling giggles escape as broken sobs, “Enyo… done tur… turnt…Marlon’s collar…heuugheuehe… every way… and loose, Lawd.”
Amused, the Jeter patriarch looks over and immediately his eyes make contact with the now pointy collar. He snorts, quickly averting his gaze back to the screen. “We gone have to fix that boy’s collar before we return him,” he advises, laughing. Leigha couldn’t even respond, her body succumbing to the giggle fit she fought so hard to maintain.
I apologize y'all, this one's just gonna have to be 3 pages long, I keep falling asleep! Plus there wasn't much I could line up between Michael's timeline and Enyo's, so, I'm really going have to do some deep dives and burrow in some holes.
REGARDLESS... I hope you guys enjoy it and don't hate me, please!
sooooo when are we getting a chapter 3 for the child stars??
OOP😭😭
Y'all will be receiving two chapters tonight/ Saturday morning depending on your timezone! I promise!
I would say that I didn't forget y'all but it would be a half truth, half lie. I've been working on the drafts, I've just never posted them, but I got y'all!
OH MY GOD, THERE'S HOPE! THERE'S HOPE IN THIS WORLD FILLED WITH PEOPLE WHO THINK FOR THEMSELVES INSTEAD OF SHUTTING THE FUCK UP AND PICKING UP A BOOK.
So, I wake up, do my usual scroll and I see this post. This beautiful post: https://www.tumblr.com/thrillerflies/822217974683402240/im-going-on-here-not-from-a-place-of?source=share
I've seen multiple people discuss the parasocial and "parasocial" interactions and statements made about Jaafar and Maddie. For those who don't give a fuck that Maddie and by marriage and silence, Jaafar, financially and morally side with a belief and "culture" that showers itself with happiness at the sight of dead, raped, diabled, and orphaned Palestinian children, women, and men- y'all have a parasocial relationship with them on multiple levels.
1. Consistently stating that this belief is not true - the perpetrator posted her own incriminating evidence on multiple occurrences.
2. Insinuating that you as a STRANGER knows exactly what Maddie meant when making the story and promoting the link to pay a military filled with rapists and blood thirsty pieces of shits.
3. That girl or whatever who made that group chat with Jaafar and was very sexually explicit. Yeah that's... that's just weird dude. Not new, bu fucking weird.
But you see, examples like those is what parasocial means.
What parasocial does NOT mean is...
1. Hating someone/a couple for their harmful beliefs. Especially seeing as the people who have the right to hate them are majorly pocs while the others who brush these things off are not pocs/ dick riders for the lighter hues.
2. Not hating, but holding people accountable for the personalities/beliefs they associate themselves with.
When Jaafar first popped out with his fiance or whatever, I shrugged it off like "okay, here we go again, but it's whatever." Then her actions caught up with not just her but him and I got pissed.
The IDF has on multiple occasions, retired and active, relished and bragged about them committing war crimes against a population of people based off of lies, religious hatred, and racism. Hell, it was the U.S and England that helped set this shit off for Israel.
Israel has been committing these war crimes for over 75 years. Palestinians have suffered for 75 years. My grandmother is older than Israel's false claim to Gaza. People have lost their families, forced to watch their children have heinous acts be done to them before their lives were taken.
I have no space in my heart or my mind to be complacent or passive or kind to someone who sees this shit. Hears this shit. And states that it's all a lie. State that it's not what it seems like. The country that everyone claimed was being fake victims is not the one eradicating cities from other countries.
The country every ignorant piece of shit was claiming to be lying doesn't have a link to apply for their military. They don't have links to donate to any military service or government organization. It's all crowdfunded. They could barely get professional journalists to report their side of the bombings.
They had to use residents, family members in and out of the country.
Mind you, majority of the people famous, unknown, rich, or middle class - they all somehow know somebody that is from Is Not Real or know somebody who has worked for/currently is working for the IDF. Why do you think that is? What do most of them look like?
And it's not because they're all Jewish. No, there are Jews from all generations who absolutely hate Israel and anyone who stands behind that government.
They're all fucking White and majority of them are fucking American. Born and raised. They supposedly have thousand year old claims to Palestinian land despite being Agnostic, Atheist, Catholic - anything but Jewish or Muslim.
And I'm all for having that diverse friend group and finding love in everything, even if that means in a partner of a different race/culture. But we're not going to ignore that before these recent political climates, white people had a trait of pretending to care for their poc friends only to turn around and participate in taking said friend's life.
Or even going as far questioning how said friend and people of their culture believe in Black Lives Matter, Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, Stop Asian Hate, MAGA being white supremacy covered up as a political organization, etc.
Now, the shits gotten worse since that orange fuck has returned behind the desk. A country that was shit, but had its little moments has COMPLETELY embarrassed itself on multiple occasions with his face as our representative.
Multiple countries in the UN have identified that not only has Israel been partaking in war crimes but that the current US representatives have been adopting Nazi behaviors. Which is insane because in actuality, they're not adopting shit... they're just exposing who they originally are and how America allowed history to repeat itself WILLINGLY.
So, you can call me and anyone else with a fucking heart, a head, knowledge, and the ability to hold humans accountable regardless if they're famous parasocial. Because at the end of the day, we're not the ones who are paying people to commit war crimes.
We're not the ones stupid enough to watch war propaganda be posted on the internet - very poorly mind you because damn near everyone in the world has access to it. Which means everyone saw how Israelis and their dick riders continuously lied about being innocent and the victims because they were the only ones making get ready with mes and their city still intact. Everyone going about their day, going to work, kissing their kids goodbye to school.
Whereas Palestinians had to cry and beg for their child to return to them or have their suffering end. They couldn't just ignore the bombs and go to work because they never stopped. They are no schools, hospitals, there is nothing there.
So, people have every right to hold them accountable. They have every right to ruin a good moment with Maddie's actions and Jaafar's silence because she doesn't care about the lives that were selfishly taken for no reason. She only "cares" now after 3yrs because her black fiance is now in not just the biggest film of the year but it's a biopic on the most powerful, famous black man to exist - his uncle.
Mind you, 3 years ago, she was a grown ass woman. Not some ignorant ass, repeating my parent's rhetoric 14 year old. A grown ass woman who could've been in her damn junior/senior year of college. Stop bullshitting people of color when a white person is very obviously prejudice/racist/antisemitic- or just overall in the fucking wrong.
Get your tongue and nose out their fucking ass and hold people accountable for their beliefs, especially when it's ones that commit nothing but harm and hatred.
OH MY GOD, THERE'S HOPE! THERE'S HOPE IN THIS WORLD FILLED WITH PEOPLE WHO THINK FOR THEMSELVES INSTEAD OF SHUTTING THE FUCK UP AND PICKING UP A BOOK.
So, I wake up, do my usual scroll and I see this post. This beautiful post: https://www.tumblr.com/thrillerflies/822217974683402240/im-going-on-here-not-from-a-place-of?source=share
I've seen multiple people discuss the parasocial and "parasocial" interactions and statements made about Jaafar and Maddie. For those who don't give a fuck that Maddie and by marriage and silence, Jaafar, financially and morally side with a belief and "culture" that showers itself with happiness at the sight of dead, raped, diabled, and orphaned Palestinian children, women, and men- y'all have a parasocial relationship with them on multiple levels.
1. Consistently stating that this belief is not true - the perpetrator posted her own incriminating evidence on multiple occurrences.
2. Insinuating that you as a STRANGER knows exactly what Maddie meant when making the story and promoting the link to pay a military filled with rapists and blood thirsty pieces of shits.
3. That girl or whatever who made that group chat with Jaafar and was very sexually explicit. Yeah that's... that's just weird dude. Not new, bu fucking weird.
But you see, examples like those is what parasocial means.
What parasocial does NOT mean is...
1. Hating someone/a couple for their harmful beliefs. Especially seeing as the people who have the right to hate them are majorly pocs while the others who brush these things off are not pocs/ dick riders for the lighter hues.
2. Not hating, but holding people accountable for the personalities/beliefs they associate themselves with.
When Jaafar first popped out with his fiance or whatever, I shrugged it off like "okay, here we go again, but it's whatever." Then her actions caught up with not just her but him and I got pissed.
The IDF has on multiple occasions, retired and active, relished and bragged about them committing war crimes against a population of people based off of lies, religious hatred, and racism. Hell, it was the U.S and England that helped set this shit off for Israel.
Israel has been committing these war crimes for over 75 years. Palestinians have suffered for 75 years. My grandmother is older than Israel's false claim to Gaza. People have lost their families, forced to watch their children have heinous acts be done to them before their lives were taken.
I have no space in my heart or my mind to be complacent or passive or kind to someone who sees this shit. Hears this shit. And states that it's all a lie. State that it's not what it seems like. The country that everyone claimed was being fake victims is not the one eradicating cities from other countries.
The country every ignorant piece of shit was claiming to be lying doesn't have a link to apply for their military. They don't have links to donate to any military service or government organization. It's all crowdfunded. They could barely get professional journalists to report their side of the bombings.
They had to use residents, family members in and out of the country.
Mind you, majority of the people famous, unknown, rich, or middle class - they all somehow know somebody that is from Is Not Real or know somebody who has worked for/currently is working for the IDF. Why do you think that is? What do most of them look like?
And it's not because they're all Jewish. No, there are Jews from all generations who absolutely hate Israel and anyone who stands behind that government.
They're all fucking White and majority of them are fucking American. Born and raised. They supposedly have thousand year old claims to Palestinian land despite being Agnostic, Atheist, Catholic - anything but Jewish or Muslim.
And I'm all for having that diverse friend group and finding love in everything, even if that means in a partner of a different race/culture. But we're not going to ignore that before these recent political climates, white people had a trait of pretending to care for their poc friends only to turn around and participate in taking said friend's life.
Or even going as far questioning how said friend and people of their culture believe in Black Lives Matter, Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women, Stop Asian Hate, MAGA being white supremacy covered up as a political organization, etc.
Now, the shits gotten worse since that orange fuck has returned behind the desk. A country that was shit, but had its little moments has COMPLETELY embarrassed itself on multiple occasions with his face as our representative.
Multiple countries in the UN have identified that not only has Israel been partaking in war crimes but that the current US representatives have been adopting Nazi behaviors. Which is insane because in actuality, they're adopting shit... they're just exposing who they originally are and how America allowed history to repeat itself WILLINGLY.
So, you can call me and anyone else with a fucking heart, a head, knowledge, and the ability to hold humans accountable regardless if they're famous parasocial. Because at the end of the day, we're not the ones who are paying people to commit war crimes.
We're not the ones stupid enough to watch war propaganda be posted on the internet - very poorly mind you because damn near everyone in the world has access to it. Which means everyone saw how Israelis and their dick riders continuously lied about being innocent and the victims because they were the only ones making get ready with mes and their city still intact. Everyone going about their day, going to work, kissing their kids goodbye to school.
Whereas Palestinians had to cry and beg for their child to return to them or have their suffering end. They couldn't just ignore the bombs and go to work because they never stopped. They are no schools, hospitals, there is nothing there.
So, people have every right to hold them accountable. They have every right to ruin a good moment with Maddie's actions and Jaafar's silence because she doesn't care about the lives that were selfishly taken for no reason. She only "cares" now after 3yrs because her black fiance is now in not just the biggest film of the year but it's a biopic on the most powerful, famous black man to exist - his uncle.
Mind you, 3 years ago, she was a grown ass woman. Not some ignorant ass, repeating my parent's rhetoric 14 year old. A grown ass woman who could've been in her damn junior/senior year of college. Stop bullshitting people of color when a white person is very obviously prejudice/racist/antisemitic- or just overall in the fucking wrong.
Get your tongue and nose out their fucking ass and hold people accountable for their beliefs, especially when it's ones that commit nothing but harm and hatred.
im going on here, not from a place of parasocialness or just hatred because of who she is dating, but because I need to vent about the Maddie Simpson issue and something that's been bothering me.
Before I start, I want to make it crystal clear that I DO NOT simply hate her because she is dating Jaafar. I would also never go as far as making fun of her looks for that simple fact. My distaste lies in her political and moral views. I do not believe in the genocide of innocents, and I wholeheartedly support Palestine. If you don't agree with this, then, it's obvious this post or my page isn't for you and I hope you rethink some things. Maddie is a zionist, and that goes against all I believe. THAT is why I do not like her.
ANYWAYS
I saw a tweet/post recently that has really bugged me:
I'm guessing this is one of the main posts people refer to when discussing the way Maddie interacts with "fans." Now, I am not able to 100% verify this is her, but she is very active in her comment sections, and the response is ignorant enough.
It is true a lot can change in just under three years and lots of education can take place. But what bothers me is this excuse of "I am different," "I have changed," "that was blank years ago," is such an overused excuse, and in my eyes, is just extremely invalid, especially considering the times we live in.
Education is at our fingertips. Resources and the ability to research has never been more accessible than now.
I might can be more understandable if you are going from a child to a teen, maybe a little less if you're a teenager to adult.
But that's not the case here.
Three years ago, Maddie would have been 26. A whole-ass adult, 26-years-old. Not some stupid pre-teen or some dumb young adult.
26.
That's what I am so stuck up on. You are so grown and absolutely fucking know better, especially because this has been such a prevelant issue, even three years ago.
ALSO!!
In my eyes, admitting this seems like you are also insinuating that, even as a grown adult, you lack the ability to think for yourself and do not possess critical thinking skills. You blindly pick a side before ever educating yourself on the subject.
ALSO!!
The issue has existed for years. It didn't just appear over-night. Innocent lives have been lost at the hands of a true tragedy for YEARS, including three years ago. It has ALWAYS been wrong. So what information, or "education," as she says, has appeared that just didn't exist three years ago? It is such bullshit, and I am tired of this excuse.
Why would you ever support a side of an issue without educating yourself first? That is such a shallow, hollow, shell of a person. And the genocide of Palestine has always been harrowing, I don't understand how any person could think it's justified, let alone a 26-year-old one at that.
Also, she says she has changed but I saw this tweet as well:
(This man posts pro-Zionist, Israel propaganda almost daily btw!)
Makes you question just what kind of education took place, right? Clearly, not enough.
Also, I want to address another issue I feel like people typically avoid when talking about Maddie's political views: Jaafar's political views.
I, personally, believe that the people you willingly surround yourself around with are, in some way, a reflection of who you are. One way or another.
I do think you can be friends with people who have differing political views. Of, course, it is important to understand what an opinion is. Like ice cream flavor or what kind of restaurant your town needs.
Let me make this clear: basic human rights are NOT things to have an opinion on. Simple.
So I could never stand for something and advocate for an issue and then turn around and marry someone who goes against everything I stand for. I am not only turning my back on myself, but I am also betraying the very people I claim to care so much about.
I know some people have said that Jaafar has posted pro-Palestine posts on a supposed Facebook page of his:
But just recently, Jaafar has spoken out on Twitter and said that he actually doesn't have Facebook.
It again, makes it obvious that they both know more of what's going on than they are speaking on, yet it is radio silent.
It causes me to question what kind of person he truly is underneath it all.
ANYWAYS, got carried away, but this has seriously been bugging me. Don't excuse someone because they're with someone you think is hot. Don't excuse someone because you think they're hot. Food for thought!
Not only is she posting her support, she's also posting a link to get YOU to also support!! Have all your friends also recieved the same education as you did three years ago?
I’ve stayed quiet for weeks but I’m genuinely tired of watching this fandom destroy itself over fcking fanfiction.
The Michael Jackson fandom on Tumblr has become EXTREMELY toxic, nasty and embarrassing over the last few weeks and it’s ridiculous.
Before this, the fandom was calm. People wrote, people read, people supported each other and everyone just enjoyed being here. Now it’s become a complete mess. The atmosphere has completely died and so many people are losing motivation to write, create or even open this app because every single day it’s another childish argument, another fight, another competition, hate, racism,discrimination and another wave of drama that never should’ve existed in the first place.
The biggest issue is that so many of you have forgotten Michael Jackson was a REAL HUMAN BEING
He’s NOT a fictional character, NOT an anime character and NOT a video game character
Not a doll for you to project your fantasies, parasocial behaviour or personal preferences onto
A REAL PERSON
A man who had a real life, real emotions, real family and who is no longer here to speak for himself.
Yet so many of you in the tumblr community treat him as if he’s nothing more than a fictional character you can toss around however you like. The way the tumblr fandom OVER SEXUALISE him, dehumanise him and write him without any regard for the fact that he was an actual human being has crossed boundaries that never should’ve been crossed
Stop reducing him to just sex and porn. CALM YOUR SEX DRIVE DOWN, he is more than that
Yes he is the most beautiful, gorgeous, sexy black man to exist , it’s fine if you read or write smut about him but don’t overdo it.
There are certain themes and topics that should be SOLY ONLY USED ON FICTIONAL CHARACTERS NOT REAL LIFE HUMANS a lot of people have crossed boundaries and the red line here.
And before anyone twists my words, I’m not saying people can’t write fanfiction
I’m saying remember who you’re writing about
You are writing a fanfiction about a REAL LIFE HUMAN BEING NOT A FICTIONAL CHARACTER
If you want to write dark fiction, then understand there is a massive difference between writing dark fiction about a fictional character and writing it about a real human being
THOSE ARE NOT THE SAME THING
REMEMBER There are themes, scenarios and topics that ONLY belong with fictional characters.
Real people are different
Some of you have completely ignored that line and crossed it without a second thought
Writing about Real life people and fictional characters in fanfiction are COMPLETELY different and should stay different especially words certain themes and topics.
Then we have the constant fighting
Can some of you genuinely explain why you’re ripping each other’s heads off over fanfiction
It’s fanfiction
Why has everything become a competition? Why does every writer have to be compared? And why does every story suddenly need to be criticised
Why is everyone so obsessed with proving they’re the “better” writer or the “bigger” fan
The superior complex and arrogance coming from some writers and readers lately is unbelievable. Some of you have become so self centred and so parasocial that it’s uncomfortable to witness.
No, you do not know Michael better than everyone else
No, you are not above anyone because your stories get more likes or because you’ve been here longer
Humble yourselves
And the DISGUSTING racism needs to END, you racists need to get a LIFE and go outside. And while your being racist you should also note some of the furniture and resources you have bought and use in your life are created by the people you are being racist too sooo you should keep your mouths SHUT. (Shading a very known person who did blackface)
Now
The race discourse needs to end IMMEDIATELY
Watching grown people argue over which race is supposedly “better” for Michael is one of the most embarrassing things I’ve ever seen in this fandom.
You’re arguing over a real man as if he were a fictional love interest that belongs to you
None of us knew him personally
None of us get to decide who would’ve been “best” for him
Projecting your own preferences onto him and attacking other writers because they write a different OC or reader is incredibly unhealthy, incredibly parasocial and incredibly disrespectful behaviour.
Michael LOVED EVERY RACE OF WOMEN.
He just LOVED women not a certain type of race of women just women.
He did NOT have a favourite race, he did NOT nitpick a certain race of women, he did NOT CARE about race, he was attracted to and loved EVERY RACE OF WOMEN, she could be white, black, Indian, Chinese , Korean, African, Arab, Turkish, Greek, Latina, French and so on he DID NOT CARE about race he LOVED WOMEN she could be any nationality/race and he would still fall in love with her if she was the right person for him and felt connection with her.
Every single race of women in here are beautiful, gorgeous and powerful.
It’s already enough how many incel men out there still treat women like shit. Don’t add to that.
Every writer of every race matters
Every writer of every race deserves recognition
Every writer of every race deserves encouragement
There is no hierarchy
There is no race that deserves more support than another
There is no reason to tear someone down because their character doesn’t look the way you wanted them to
Support each other instead of constantly trying to outdo each other
We are ALL WRITERS we should not be against each other nor fighting with each other.
Tumblr is supposed to be somewhere people come to connect, write, read, share ideas and enjoy a community
Instead it’s become a place full of toxic posts, unnecessary discourse, superiority complexes and constant fighting
ENOUGH IS ENOUGH …….Seriously
LOCK IN AND GROW UP
Stop acting like children
Stop making everything a competition
Stop shaming people
Stop criticising every little thing someone writes
Stop encouraging drama
Stop making everything about yourselves
Stop the disgusting racism
Stop choosing which race of people are better writers
And for the love of God START RESPECTING MICHAEL
Respect him as the real human being he was
Respect the fact that he had dignity
Respect the fact that he was more than a fantasy or a fictional character for people to fight over
Because right now a lot of people in this fandom have forgotten that completely
Because you guys are disrespecting him , disrespecting others and disrespecting yourselves
After im done with the last request I got I’m stepping away from Tumblr for a while because this place has become mentally draining , embarrassing and disappointing
I hope by the time I come back people have remembered why this community existed in the first place
To write
To create
To support one another
To celebrate Michael’s legacy
Not to spread hate, discrimination, racism and tear each other apart over fanfiction, race, pointless competition and childish drama
Respect each other , and respect Michael let the man rest.
ENOUGH IS ENOUGH
Because out of all the fanfiction platforms tumblr has become the most TOXIC and unpleasant fanfiction platforms.
Y'all thought I was lying or something? WHEN I SAID THAT I'M BACK, I MEANT THIS SHIT. Plus we're in a retrograde in my moon sign that's also affecting my jupiter, my sun, and my rising - mind you my sun, moon, and rising are cardinal signs... I'm so having fun.
anyways.... Here's the link to the Wattpad version: Love Me Like You
I did two chapters in less than 6hrs. I stayed up all night, the keyboard to my pc malfunctioned on me so now I'm writing on this old ass, delayed ass laptop until I can get a new keyboard all because I love Y'ALL.
I hope y'all enjoy the show/book and please don't be afraid to interact both here and over because I'll be throwing up polls and stuff like that further into the story. Now I need sleep, this caffeine did nothing for me.
So a lot of things have been happening in my life such as me having to cancel my move to Austin, TX. So... I'm overly pissed but that's another neither here nor there.
I would say this is a grand return, but not really cause why do I look into them damn MJ and Jaafar tags to see folks talking about an account partaking in blackfishing????
What year is this? I thought we all agreed to never do this shit again cause
1. It's racist asf
And 2. It never fucking works out for y'all [non-black ppl]
But I digress, we staying silent on the creek. Idk what it is about the Jackson Fandom, specifically that section of racists assholes that somehow idolize/crush on a black man and his BLACK ASS family, and the drama that leaks into them tags but I'm over it😭
Every time I open that shit, I feel like I'm starting the next episode to a reality show. With that being said, I will be continuing my MJ fic HOWEVER the postings will be released on sites such as A03 and Wattpad first.
To add onto that, I'm feeling grimy. Messy. In other words, I'm dabbling a lil bit into some Love Island fics because Corbingpt is fine as fuck and I wanna do some things focused on him. Those will also be posted on Wattpad first.
Speaking of that tangerine colored app, I've seen a few Tumblr blogs under the mj tag state that they're thinking about moving their works to Wattpad as well. For ppl who haven't been on there in years and/or have never written on it - I'm here to give you a heads up as reader and fellow author.
1. STOP MAKING YOUR CHAPTERS SHORT AS FUCK
• Wattpad has automatic ads where on mobile specifically, one plays after every 2 chapters. Unless you're writing a collection of short stories (imagines) or just one whole short story - do not waste ppl's time please.
2. STOP WITH THE DRAMATIC, AESTHETIC CHAPTERS
• this ties into the first heads up. It's been a thing for a good year or more on Wattpad, but writers will spend all of their time, energy, and ideas on creating aesthetic chapters for a story but never write or post the actual fucking story.
• to make matters worse - it's always the first chapters. So when the reader thinks they can just dive in and give your book a chance, they have to swim through 2, sometimes 3 or 4, aesthetic chapters and ads to reach a legit chapter and even then most of y'all wasted your creative energy on making a playlist chapter, finding a cast and their matching gifs, so and so forth and never once wrote the first fucking chapter.
Do not fall in that worm hole. It's exhausting to run into as a reader and it's lowkey embarrassing as a writer. If you go MIA on a project, at least leave something of substance behind and not a Pinterest board.
So, um, yeah enjoy Wattpad y'all [as much as possible cause it's not the same as it used to be when I was a kid].
I'll see y'all over there and on A03. Also, you can add copyright onto your works over at Wattpad... yes I'm looking at the MJ Fandom AGAIN cause I know lot of y'all are still on your heels about that whole copy and pasting scandal from earlier this summer.
So unless a stupid bitch actually wants to break copyright and get sued, go over there and not only add on the copyright Wattpad gives you but there should be websites where you can create one as well, no cost.
Lisa is the only woman in Michael's life y'all consistently give grace to, and it's pretty obvious why: she's white, and A LOT of y'all live through her because of her marriage to him. 😭
Y'all will criticize D*ana (rightfully so), Stephanie (rightfully so), and pretty much EVERYONE else who was in his life for 50 days and 50 nights. But the second someone brings up the fact that Lisa was in the tabloids calling him weird, adding fuel to the nasty accusations and smear campaigns against him, or that the REAL obvious reason she didn't want kids with him was because he was Black, suddenly everyone starts screaming "parasocial." Had she been a POC/Black Woman we wouldn’t be hearing the end of it!
Don't even get me started on how y'all act like Lisa was the only woman in his life up until his death and that every time he spoke about a woman it had to be about her.
Michael made it pretty clear that he was involved with multiple women throughout his career, but he respected their decisions to stay out of the public eye.
I can see how there are a lot of people who are still confused and don’t know why a lot of people hate and dislike Maddie who is Jaafar’s fiancee. The MAIN part of it is because she’s a Zionist , she openly supports Isreal and funds them . And A LOT of the money that goes to Isreal is used to get more weapons to unalive and bomb more Palestinians.
Michael was a Palestine supporter and wrote a song about Palestine but ofc they refused to air it. Thats also when the allegations against him started right after he wanted to release the song so Zionists also took part in the allegations against him and took part in his death. Which is why a Zionist about to enter the Jackson family is a very heavy blow for lots of people and why it’s upsetting and disturbing for some. And ofc also because of what Zionists are doing to the Palestinians.
But anyways it’s Jaafar’s life , his choice , his life and he supports Palestine so at least that’s that.
The other part of the hate (which is the WEIRD PART of people sending the Jackson’s nasty , unsettling, sexual and inappropriate messages , videos and nudes also racist messages) is just a bunch of mentally unstable parasocial sasaengs like fans who have an unhealthy obsession with celebrities and get jealous and mad when the celebrity they are obsessed with is in a relationship. Yeah they are the gross and fcked up ones basically parasocial sasaengs.
So that’s that and yes I myself do not like Maddie because of her beliefs any Zionist is in my no no list but I’m happy the rest of the Jackson family support Palestine and that Michael himself stood by Palestine.
Also I’m Korean and my step dad and step sisters are Palestinian & my step Palestinian grandparents lost their lives in Gaza they were killed from a bomb dropped off to their building from the IDF so yeah….any Zionist/ person who supports Isreal is a garbage low life in my eyes.
Anyways hope that clears the confusion some people have on why there’s hate twords Maddie.
And any Zionist or anyone who supports Isreal sees this? Simply FCK OFF and block me I do not want any filthy Zionist scumbags on my page.
