#except instead of societal expectations it’s being broke

[theamazingannie]

Plotlines about parents getting a divorce are so interesting to me because like. You think that’s bad? Try knowing that you’re parents WANT a divorce and the only reason they’re still together is because they can’t afford to be single in this economy

[seeminglyseph]

My body is hurting so bad right now, which sucks hardcore. And so I'm just like... kinda looking for reference material for character designs and trying to rest. But like...

I keep running into like... a) I have that adhd issue where occasionally a catch phrase will get stuck in my head instead of like... songs or reasonable things. So every now and then I'll be looking something up to try and get information about what a Trojan prince should wear because I've become unreasonably attached to Hector recently and all of a sudden "except for Tyrkey, Turkey makes a whole new Turkey" from "history of the entire world, i guess" which. Like. Doesn't help any issues at all.

But also like. I know Epic is a series that doesn't need realism, it is inspired by mythology, anime, video games and being cool as hell. So being caught up in stuff like "the Odyssey takes place in the Bronze age collapse of Greece, Turkey and Italy. Which like... since it was so long ago the borders of said countries didn't exists, it was a series of kingdoms with a handful of alliances that were made unified due to the way the tale was told and because of said alliances and a history of colonization that spread a semi-unified language and culture that still like. Wasn't entirely unified and was the reason the laws of hospitality were so important. And also were an excuse of 'if they don't know our sacred hospitality law then it's totally fair to murder them and take their stuff. They're the one that broke the taboo that they didn't know about because they have different societal norms.' But also there was very very little holding a lot of societies together. But also I probably am not expected to do thorough research on period accurate designs for character depictions when half of the history we have of this era is untranslatable, destroyed or lost."

I have weird self negotiations about things that fully do not matter...

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Telegrams & Teacups

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader (Enola Holmes)

Warnings: None.

Summary: Your morning was normal until you received a telegram from your friend Sherlock Holmes with a simple request: help him find Enola.

A/n: This tiny idea had me so obsessed that it’s all I’ve been writing for the last few hours! I have no regrets <3

You had just poured yourself a cup of tea and set it down on the small table by the armchair when there was a knock at the door.

How peculiar. You thought to yourself. 

Crossing the room, you turned the handle and propped open the panel of wood to see who your guest was and was met with a man from the post office holding in his hands a beige envelope.

“Telegram for (Y/n).” He explained. You confirmed your identity and were handed the papered item bidding the gentlemen a good day.

With a swift closing of the door, you leaned against it and opened the letter, recognising initials of S.H on the bottom right corner. Sherlock had told you that he was leaving to attend to a personal matter in the country yesterday morning so if he sent a priority telegram to you, then there must have been a development in the case.

Unfolding the paper, you read the message and learnt that he requested your assistance in locating his sister Enola Holmes who he suspected to be in London and that he would be back in the city later that afternoon. At the bottom of the letter there were the words ‘URGENT’ and a short series of words describing the girl scrawled rather messily, no doubt belonging to his brother Mycroft who was constantly teetering on the edge of patience.

You glanced over at the teacup still sending swirls of steam into the air and sighed - your drink would have to wait. Grabbing your coat from its stand, you hastily put it on and dashed out the door. 

When you stepped out onto the street, you remembered Sherlock once mentioned having a sister that he had not contacted in years. It was a simple remark that he let slip when he had his guard down around you - it didn’t happen often and he had caught himself before opening up to emotion. A trait that you had come to accept.

Focusing back on finding the youngest Holmes sister, Sherlock had told you of the station that she would have gotten off at. A station name was all you needed because as it turned out, you were rather gifted at getting into people’s minds and predicting the footsteps that they had taken and ones that they were likely to take next.

From the way Sherlock had explained the situation in the letter to Mycroft’s hasty emotion-driven description, you could tell that Enola was on the run to escape her brothers and a young girl out of place, who wanted to stay hidden, would have to blend into the crowd.

Your feet brought you to the first dress shop on the street from the station. Peering through the window, you noticed that the shop owner was counting a large wad of cash that seemed to be suspiciously ‘earned’ by an otherwise empty and ragged looking store. Your eye also caught the clothing rack of beautiful dresses and the empty hangers by the window. 

‘Unrefined’ was one of Mycroft’s choice words and it seemed that Enola was clever enough to use his descriptions to her advantage.

Stepping back from the shop, you looked around the busy and bustling streets. Dressed like a lady, the young girl would be in need of accommodation, therefore she would have asked the shopkeeper for suitable lodgings to avoid wandering the streets aimlessly.

As if on cue, the dressmaker walked out of her shop and made her way across the street. Letting your instincts lead, you followed at a safe distance with a casual stride so as to not arouse suspicion. In a matter of minutes after turning a few streets and across empty passages, you had tracked the shopkeeper to what looked like a lodging of some kind on the edge of a suburb.

It was not terrible but would definitely keep one out of sight. Walking in, you introduced yourself as an acquaintance of Sherlock Holmes and inquired about Enola. The bookkeep nodded and immediately led you up a narrow set of stairs before approaching a room and knocking on the door.

“Young Miss. You have a visitor.” They announced. You heard a small shuffle of feet from inside and the door creaked open to reveal and young girl with big brown eyes. She seemed to have recognised you, stepping to the side to let you in. She closed the door and turned around.

“I know who you are.” She said boldly with a fresh air of confidence that was not to be expected from someone so young. “You work for my brother, Sherlock.”

Looking around at the little space, newspapers scattered over the bed, you smiled at Enola’s phrasing.

“Actually I work with him - on the occasion.” You corrected wheeling back around to the girl who folded her arms.

“Why are you here?”

“A telegram from your brother.”

Enola frowned and shook her head. “Well, I won’t return home so they can ship me off to some home for girls to be oppressed into this world.” She looked at you and realised that you dressed in the typical London style like everyone else that she had come across and added a small, “No offence.”

“Believe me, I am not a person of societal rules. I wear no hat and no gloves, and my neighbour - your brother - usually has me wound up in one of his most outrageous cases.” You explained with a small laugh. “Mycroft only tolerates my so-called ‘embarrassing presence’ because Sherlock insists.”

Your words seemed to have reached the young girl from the way her posture fell more relaxed.

“So, you won’t take me to my brothers?” She asked and you couldn’t help but chuckle while shaking your head.

“No. Mycroft called you wild and unladylike in my telegram but as I stand here before you, I don’t see any of it. You’re remarkable and we’ve only met.”

Enola sighed with some relief that she was not going to be dragged away and smoothed out her dress before looking up at you. “Thank you.” She said politely.

You had completed the task of finding Enola Holmes as requested and bid your farewell to the young girl but not before reminding her to reach out to you if she needed assistance. While she appeared to be very bright and capable, the city had its dangers concealed as innocence.

Leaving the lodging, you trekked back home, picking up a loaf of bread from the wheat merchant for dinner. It had been a long day and you were ready to sit back and enjoy a fresh cup of tea given that the one you had made earlier would have likely gone cold.

At the door, you balanced the paper bag against your hip and turned the key to unlock your place of residence. This time when you walked in, you discovered that you weren’t alone - Mycroft was pacing by the fireplace while Sherlock had taken a seat in your armchair with a newspaper in his face.

“Has nobody told you that it’s incredibly rude to show up in a person’s home unannounced?” You wondered letting the door fall to a close behind you. Sherlock smirked behind the paper at your comment as he turned the page. Mycroft stepped in your direction and your eyes darted up to see the scowl beneath his moustache.

“What I find to be rude is that you took it upon yourself to be entertained with such trivial actions instead of carrying out the simple task of finding our sister.” He snapped, gesturing to the bread in your hands. His sharp tone of cold authority once intimidated you, but each encounter had you grow bold, refusing to be tread on by the man.

“A task so simple that she managed to elude your brilliant mind?” You questioned with a small purse of your lips and tilting your head ever so slightly to accentuate your sarcasm. “If that isn’t an embarrassment to the name of Holmes, I don’t know what is?”

It was like you had struck the man physically as his walking cane was suddenly pointed at you with warning.

“Watch your tone, (Y/n). I can make your life exceedingly difficult.”

You held your ground against the man and smiled back. “Just being in my presence is difficult enough.”

His jaw clenched; the eldest Holmes brother pulled his cane back to his side refusing to entangle in a pointless argument. Head high, he scoffed and grumbled about how disappointing you were and why Sherlock kept you around as he exited the apartment.

Thankful that he was gone, you walked over to the small table by the window and set the bread down before picking up scattered pieces of paper.

“I take it that you found her.” Sherlock inquired from where he sat.

“Of course. She’s quite well hidden.”

“You didn’t tell Mycroft.”

Turning around, you crossed the room to the fireplace to place a few stray envelopes on the mantelpiece. “I don’t believe I owe him an answer after he broke into my home like some common thief.”

Sherlock set the newspaper down and watched you, “And yet, you’ve let me stay.” He said curiously.

You dusted your hands and glanced over your shoulder, shooting him a playful, almost-teasing smile.

Taking that for your answer, the famed detective stood up and placed the newspaper back from where he first retrieved it. You had finished up and noticed that he was on the border of leaving too.

“I take it that you won’t tell me of her location either?” He surmised, tugging a little on his coat to straighten it out.

With a small laugh, you walked past him and patted his chest. “You might be more agreeable than your brother, but I have no desire to make your job easy, Sherlock.” You told him kindly. “I’ll keep Enola in my sights and hidden until you catch up.”

That’s when you saw it, sitting on the armchair table was your teacup from that morning except, instead of being filled with a cold liquid, it was hot and steaming. Frowning, you turned to Sherlock who was by the door, smiling at your bewildered expression.

“You’ve had a long day. I’ll give you some time to catch up.” He winked and stepped out, disappearing behind your front door.

Masterlist here

[runephoenix6769]

Why Netflix aging up the Characters could spell disaster.

Ok, so I’ve tried to find confirmation that this is true and kinda found bubkiss so far.  But.... Zuko being aged up by two years does not bode well his motivation or Azula (or Sokka for that matter), narratively speaking and will massively change how their stories/character arcs hit.  It’s my belief that by aging up the characters they’ll kinda lose some of the soul of the show AND the poignancy of just how much pressure has been laid on the shoulders of Gaang and Azula's trio. The nuance of Children fixing a world broken by adults. (I shall preface by saying that anyone under 18 is a child and therefore even joining the military at 16 is still awful, but this post is being written within the context of the avatar universe, its societal norms and customs.)

Hear me out.  Within the show, all the main cast of children are supposed to be outliers and exceptionally skilled, even surpassing many of the adults in that world in terms of mastery of their elements and ability to execute strategy.   At 16/17 Rangi had her first commission after graduating from the Junior Corps in record time, to eventually become one of the youngest Lieutenants in Fire Nation Army service, during peace time.  400 years later we are in the midst of a global war, meaning the goal posts within the various societies would have shifted considerably. (Apart from the Earth Kingdom, they seriously need to get with the times.) Zuko is the heir to the throne of an imperial expansionist country, where military service is expected of many of the aristocracy. (If not every citizen doing something towards the war effort.) And has been since the reign of Sozin.  Being the heir, he would naturally be expected to take a military commission at 16/17, as precedent has been shown to us via Rangi. This would serve to foster loyalty from his soldiers, train him in ways of command to prepare him for taking over the Nation, etc etc.  Lets say that Netflix keep the rest of his story the same, so he is still ousted at 13 sent on a mission of folly as a cruel punishment. Well that just casts his 4 years at sea and his behaviour towards his men in an awful light. In four years he has not learned regard for the safety of his men? It makes the treatment of his men look callous instead of being a child who doesn't quite grasp how much his crew do for him, that they too have been ousted and separated from their loved ones! Four years of shite treatment would surely land a mutiny on his hands?  If anything, it serves to make him look whiny, and incompetently oblivious to the needs of others.  And what does it mean if they move the timeline of the Agni Kai up by two years, to 15?  It doesn't have quite the same impact. Remember what sits at the core of this show. It is ultimately about children trying the fix the world that the adults broke, violence, cruelty, child soldiers and the effects of war upon them, under intense pressure to succeed.  Zuko is supposed to be a child who hasn’t even begun to figure out what he wants.   His character arc in the show is supposed to be that journey!

Which brings me to Azula!  A child prodigy, who took down Ba Sing Se in a relatively bloodless coup at 14! Its meant to be an awe inspiring Herculean feat! A top notch military strategist, she is meant to be unmatched by any of her peers.  Her age in the OG show certainly explains her behavior, her not being developed enough in many ways. This contributes towards the deterioration of her mental health when she cannot reconcile the heavily cultivated sense of self with the reality culminating in the tragic and heart wrenching mental breakdown at 14! At 16/17, it makes it look like a huge ass hissy fit! OG Azula’s inflection moment begins in The Beach episode. She is begins to ask questions of herself in the form of small experiments. It takes the form of her hiding their identities on Ember Island.  It is as if she is trying to feel out if she is as witty and charming as she believes, but she comes to learn that she is woefully socially inept, people don’t like her for her, beginning the spiral of insecurity and self doubt. We are also told that Azula’s mother thought her a monster and she is massively hurt by that, though she plays it off as nothing.  This insecurity is blown wide open on the Boiling Rock cemented by Ty Lee’s betrayal and culminates in Azula, who is truly terrified that he might burn her in a way similar to Zuko, seeing her being sidelined by Ozai.  She takes as a form of punishment for her ‘failure’, a form of banishment, that she has been discarded like Zuko, when she had imagined being by her father’s side as they burned the world in celebration of their mutual victory rather than for what is truly is which is Ozai being a glory hog and reaping all the benefits from Azula’s hard work.  Which brings me to the suggestion by Azula to burn the world in the first place. A child suggesting that you ‘Burn the World’ smacks a whole lot differently when you think of it as a kid not quite grasping/understanding the ramifications of such a suggestion, but a 16 year old? Such a thing tips her from confused mentally unwell child with a crippling fear of failure raised without a lick of compassion to full blown villainy with nothing remotely sympathetic about her! The way the last Agni Kai is framed you are supposed to feel sympathetic towards her! Which makes me wonder if they are gonna paint Azula as unhinged straight from the get go? Her unravelling at the seams is supposed to be her journey!

Sokka.... at 17!  In the OG show, Hakoda does the right thing by telling Sokka to remain behind to look after the village because at 13 he is too young to go to war.  Why leave him behind at 15? Would that not serve to feed into feelings of inadequacy, that he was deemed too weak to leave and fight with the other men and boys of the tribe?  Now, I would argue that Sokka’s OG arc rivals Zuko’s redemption. He does feel inadequate and overcomes it. He also unlearns a shit load of misogyny! What 17 year old doesn’t take responsibility for his own clothes, in a tribe were adults are few and far between? What 17 year old expects his little sister to be his mother and bear the brunt of the domestic? How obtuse and unfeeling would that make Sokka? It would propel him to the side of boorish, lazy and entitled rather than the sweet teenage boy who grows to realise he has a lot to learn.  OG Sokka is humble as hell and not afraid admit when he is lacking! He will go and openly admit his flaws and learn from others who he had previously written off.  Suki gives him a glass of respect women juice and he keeps on chugging, only adding to the Sokka we know and love.  This is supposed to be his journey! 

OG Sokka is just as much of a genius as Azula!  They are both supposed to be exceptional. Having them sit at 16/17 figuring this all out within a war torn world were it would be totally normal for them to participate in the generational war machine kind of robs them of this. Their more child like behaviours, grappling with concepts and truly understanding their consequences is supposed to remind us that they are children, being asked to do something no child ever should! Aging them up casts these things in a whole other light, skewering the what makes this show so beloved!  If you change the core characters to the point their journey’s don’t make sense within the world they inhabit, or they become unrecognisable to the audience you’re trying to milk then really.....what’s the point?  

[sugaabooga]

Chance | 5

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader | Jimin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, rich!Seokjin, rich!Jimin

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: PG-13, alcohol consumption, alcohol intoxication, societal classes

Synopsis: Seokjin had no problem of getting girls and also had no problem of getting rid of them. One girl after the next. So why was it that you - a middle-class citizen - was an exception? You - a middle-class citizen - made Seokjin question if he really did have it all. But one thing’s for sure. He didn’t have any of your chances.

Clank.

The glass in Seokjin’s hand nearly shatters at the sheer force he slams it down on the bar counter.

Seokjin grunts, sloppily gesturing towards the wide-eyed bartender who stares at him with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry sir,” he says with a gentle voice. “I’m afraid you’ve had too much to drink. Do you have anyone to pick you up or should I call a cab?”

Seokjin whines, laying his head against the counter and wriggling his body as if there was a rat crawling up and down his body.

“Mur,” Seokjin pouts.

“Excuse me?” the bartender leans forward in hopes of hearing some kind of name of number he could call.

Seokjin lifts up his body feeling heavier than usual and props his hand under his chin to look straight at the young man in front of him.

“Jungcoook?” Seokjin squints at the bartender’s name tag, arm sliding from underneath him.

Jungkook smiles good-naturedly, quite nice for a mere bartender who deals with countless drunkards each night.

“That’s me,” he answers. “It’s getting close to the end of my shift and I would like to send you home before I go.”

Seokjin nods heartily at him. “Yur a nice kid.”

Jungkook shrugs, setting aside a glass he just finished wiping dry. “Just doing my job I guess.”

“You see,” Seokjin sighs, eyeing the bottle of whiskey a few inches away from where Jungkook stands. “I can’t call anyone.”

Jungkook nods. “I’ll hail a cab.”

Seokjin merely hums as Jungkook turns around to place the glasses on the shelf behind him. Taking this as a chance, Seokjin uses all the soberness left in him to reach over the counter and grab the whiskey bottle by the neck, hurriedly and sloppily pouring out the alcohol into his empty glass.

“Which area do you- SIR!” Jungkook shrieks mid-question, turning around to see Seokjin hastily gulp down the remains of the drink. Jungkook snatches the glass from his hand in exasperation before Seokjin can tilt his glass again for the last few drops left underneath the ice cubes.

“No cab,” Seokjin mutters as Jungkook merely sighs. Why was this wealthy man, probably mid to late twenties, drowning himself in drinks tonight?

Jungkook bets this guy wouldn’t even have to work part-time jobs like he had to in order to make ends meet. So why was he so miserable?

Seokjin huffs, yanking out his phone and fingers automatically finding a specific name in his contacts.

He rests his head on the counter once again as he strategically places his phone on top of his ear, letting the rings lull him in and out of consciousness.

__

“How’d you even know I was working overtime?” you ask Jimin who lazily spins around in his chair.

“I called Hoseok for a drink but he said he was too tired and mentioned how you were working past working hours,” Jimin recalls. “Again.”

“And you just. . . decided to come?”

Jimin nods. “Of course. Can’t have you suffering alone.”

You blink a few times at the man who appears quite nonchalant about this whole ordeal while you were purely confused at how you were supposed to feel. This wouldn’t be weird if that intimate moment a few days back hadn’t happened.

You were sure his hand lingered longer than usual after he had gently tucked your hair behind your ear and his eyes gazed with a look you’ve never seen before.

You quickly shake the thought out of your head, refusing to mull over that moment more than you needed to. He was merely comforting you as a friend. There was no need to overthink anything. Those things can happen from time to time.

Then the rest of his sentence registers in your head. Once again, the fact that Jimin even calls Hoseok regularly surprises you despite it being widely known in your department how Jimin was probably the only one who free-spiritedly joked around with Hoseok. “You. . . You’re close with Hoseok, right?”

Jimin immediately hums in response, as if he didn’t know how intimidated everyone was of the marketing manager and actively avoided any sort of contact with him.

“I mean. . . he’s only a year older than us,” Jimin states, making you turn to him in shock.

“WHAT!?” you gasp. You had assumed Hoseok was at least four years older than you. Now you realize, he did look quite young, but his workplace habits were of an accomplished forty year old who was ready to retire early.

Jimin giggles at your shock. “Yeah. It’s pretty obvious though. That hyung really is youthful. He’s actually fairly optimistic and a great listener. Which makes him the perfect drinking buddy.”

You roll your eyes at Jimin’s alcohol fanaticism making an appearance. “Well, you do know about his reputation in the office right?”

Jimin stops his swiveling, turning to look at you properly. His gaze switches to a more serious gaze as he lowers his voice. “Cold caller baller?”

You break out into a smile, scrunching your nose in the process at Jimin’s genuine inquiry. “What the hell is that?” you laugh. “I meant how everyone treats him like ‘he who shall not be named’. Everytime someone mentions,” pause “Hoseok,” you whisper, making Jimin scoff. “He randomly appears and scolds the whole team.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Now that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard about.”

You open your mouth to protest but freeze as Jimin shifts closer, his head just a few inches away from yours.

“It’s probably because Hoseok’s the only one in our department who gives a shit about his job,” Jimin smirks, playfully dropping to a low whisper at Hoseok’s name. “That’s why everyone’s scared. They can’t handle his professionalism.”

You gulp, barely noticing the hidden indirect insult Jimin purposely shot at you with the purpose of agitating you, and instead being able to only focus on why he was so close to you and why you felt like you suddenly couldn’t breathe.

Jimin’s smirk slightly drops into a concerned frown when he realizes you aren’t reacting the way he had expected you to react.

“Y/N?”

Bang.

Both of you look up in alarm towards the entrance of the office that leads out to the elevators at the echo of something crashing into the wall.

Jimin stands up from his chair, leaning his body back to look as far as he can out the glass doors.

“Was someone else working overtime?” he asks, earning a shake of your head. Jimin starts heading towards the doors to check out the sound as you click out of your tabs for the night. Everything else that was left on your slides, you could finish up tomorrow morning. Right now, you were quite convinced that you were very exhausted, especially judging from the way you suddenly froze up in close proximity with your long-time best friend whom you had only platonic feelings for.

You let out a long exhale, forcing the thought out of your brain and logging out of your computer then carefully placing the flash drive with all the project details into your bag’s inner pocket. After half-heartedly organizing your desk area and cubicle, you walk towards the exit, heels softly clacking against the tiles as Jimin comes in through the doors peering into a black bag.

“What’s that?” you ask curiously. Jimin looks up and turns back around to head towards the elevators after noticing that you were done for the night.

“I don’t know,” he answers. “It was dropped against the wall which was probably the sound we heard.”

“Is there anything in it?”

Jimin nods, pulling out a bag of chips. “Snacks.”

You can’t help but let your jaw slightly drop at the sight of food after working for hours straight without a proper meal since 2pm.

It was your favorite brand of chips too.

“Gimme,” you pout, making Jimin chuckle.

“I don’t think we should just take it though,” he hesitates. “Isn’t it kind of bad to take something someone else bought? Without permission?”

“But it was literally on the floor,” you reason, not as morally righteous as your friend beside you.

Jimin still debates, fiddling with the handle of the bag. “Hey there’s a lunchbox in here.”

He fishes out the bulgogi meal pack with rice and a few other pre-packaged side dishes. Your eyes widen at the humble meal as if it were a five-star lobster.

“Okay, forget the chips,” you gasp. “We have to eat the lunchbox. If it’s left here uneaten, it’s going to spoil! What a waste that would be!”

Jimin laughs at your logic but still shakes his head. “Let’s just drop this off at the front desk.”

You purse your lips in distaste as the elevator finally dings, indicating its arrival.

Jimin grins, internally cooing at how cute you were.

“Dinner’s on me,” he adds as you begrudgingly press the lobby button.

You whip around to him, instantly perking up with newfound energy. “For real!?”

Jimin is nearly floored by your glistening eyes that were sparkling just because he offered to buy you dinner. He can’t help but match your wide grin as he nods. “Yup. Just name it! Actually, besides the five-star restaurants downtown.”

You snicker as Jimin quickly draws the boundaries to your food choices.

The one time you went out for dinner with him after college graduation, your food suggestion resulted in a $285 check for two steaks and a teeny tiny salad.

Your jaw had dropped all the way down to the floor at the sight of the bill. You tried to split the bill but Jimin had physically pushed you out of the restaurant, insisting to pay for the meal.

Even to this day, you have no idea how Jimin managed to pay the bill as a fellow broke college student who had yet to land a stable income.

“Hm. . . I’m craving donkatsu,” you say, indirectly asking Jimin if he was okay with pork cutlet for dinner.

“Donkatsu!” Jimin exclaims with a wide grin. 

“I take it that you agree?” you say with a scoff at his child-like excitement at the mention of his favorite food and playfully nudge his shoulder when the elevator doors open.

Jimin gulps at your playful grin and your bright eyes peering up at him, making his heart stutter and mind going blank.

Geez. What was wrong with him today? Either you were extra attractive or he was just more whipped than usual.

“Jimin?” you ask confusedly when he remains standing still in the elevator with an indecipherable look.

Jimin’s head jerks up at the sound of his name and he glances around, confused at when the elevator doors had opened and when you had already left his side.

“Park!” you yell, catching Jimin’s attention from his distracted glances around the elevator.

“Yes?” he immediately responds, making you look at him with pure bewilderment.

“You good?”

Jimin breathily laughs making you crack a hesitant smile.

“Yeah I’m-”

“Oh Y/N!” the front desk receptionist on night duty calls. You turn around at the sound of her voice and give her a polite smile, walking towards her desk.

Meanwhile, Jimin hurriedly presses the open door button as the elevator doors start to close and quickly follows after you.

“Hey. . .” you trail off, unable to remember her name.

“Soo-ah,” Jimin smiles at her with a slight jog, catching up to you and saving you from embarrassment.

Soo-ah grins back at the charming man in front of her, not even noticing that you had forgotten her name despite the years both of you worked here.

“Soo-ah,” you repeat with a smile.

“Congratulations, Y/N,” Soo-ah says right off the bat.

Your brows slightly raise in question, exchanging a confused glance with Jimin.

“For… what?” you ask.

Did I get a raise I don’t know about?

Soo-ah slightly tilts her head. “I heard you got scouted by JJ Corps.”

“JJ Corps?” you and Jimin ask simultaneously, eyes widening.

Seokjin’s company?

Our company?

“Yeah. The director himself came and asked which floor you were on,” Soo-ah pauses. “Wait. . . I just realized that it’s past the normal office hours. How did he know you were working overtime?”

Jimin frowns. If it was the director, that would be Seokjin. 

Seokjin came?

“Did you get his name?” Jimin asks the befuddled receptionist before you can open your mouth.

You shoot Jimin a slight glance, noting how Jimin almost seemed agitated. Last time, Jimin had known Seokjin’s name even though you made sure not to tell anyone since Seokjin was such a known public figure. And now, it almost seemed as if Jimin was on the same page as you, suspecting that it was Seokjin who had come over.

“Um. . .” Soo-ah tries to recall, attracting your attention once again and keep in mind to mention it to Jimin later. Her eyes lighting up in remembrance. “Ah! I think it was Kim. . . Seojik? Seonjin?”

“Seok...jin?” you hesitantly suggest. Soo-ah lets out a sound of recognition and nods.

“Ah. Yes, yes. It said Kim Seokjin, Director of JJ Corps on his business card.”

Jimin holds in his questions and scans your reaction. For the first time in your years of friendship, Jimin couldn’t read your face. Your lips were turned into a grim line and your eyes seemed blank, void of any emotion.

You nod with a wry smile, mumbling a thank you and greeting goodnight to Soo-ah and turn around, walking towards the lobby doors.

Jimin stands watching your retreating figure with slight worry and hurriedly snatches out the bag of your favorite chips and hands the rest of the black bag to Soo-ah.

“Oh?” Soo-ah lets out a noise of surprise at the familiar bag. “This was what Mr. Kim was hold-”

Soo-ah stops mid-sentence at the realization that she was alone. A small smile appears as she scoffs in amusement watching Jimin trail after you like a lost puppy with the chips in hand. Jimin playfully, but hesitantly pokes the side of your face with a tiny, shy smile, forcing you to give him your attention. Soo-ah sighs, plopping back down onto her swivel chair once you take the chips with a roll of your eyes. Jimin’s arm hovers over your shoulder as he debates whether to put his arm around you. His fist clenches as he decides against it and Jimin continues walking with his hands behind his back.

Soo-ah sighs with pity at his internal debate that she just witnessed.

“Will she ever notice?” Soo-ah mutters to herself at the unfortunate sight of Jimin quite obviously whipped for a girl who has no idea of his feelings.

__

“Bus is here,” Jimin announces nudging you up off the bus stop bench.

You climb up the steps and fiddle around your bag for your pre-paid bus pass. The bus driver softly sighs as you continue rummaging with a apologetic smile.

“Two please,” Jimin intercepts with his own card from behind you.

Beep.

His chest gently presses against your back, his warmth wrapping around your cold frame draped around with a thin cardigan.

Before you can think anything more of how comforting his warmth felt, your feet jut out, walking towards the two seats on the left side of the bus as the driver continues to drive his nightly route.

“Thanks,” you say as you sit down.

Jimin shakes his head as a sign of no problem. He follows after you, plopping down on the cushiony seat next to you and setting his bag onto his lap.

You try to ignore Jimin’s burning stare at the side of your face by mindlessly scrolling on your phone then give up with a huff once Jimin doesn’t look away for a few good seconds.

“What?” you sigh, turning your head to look at your friend. You instinctively shift backwards once you notice the close proximity.

Jimin silently studies your face for a quick second before offering you a small smile. “Finish the chips already?”

You roll your eyes with a light-hearted scoff. “Yes. I told you. I was hungry. I threw them away while you were looking down the street for the bus.”

Jimin laughs with a nod. “Good job. That was the appetizer.”

You smile to yourself, savoring these small moments with Jimin in your life.

“Are you uh. . . Are you okay?”

You stay silent for a moment before letting out a breathy laughing with a smile, looking up at the back of another passenger’s head. “What do you mean? Of course I’m okay.”

“I’m talking about Seokjin,” Jimin specifies bluntly.

You weren’t quite sure if you were okay. All you could think of were endless questions. Why had he come to your office? Why didn’t he call or text instead? It’s been a full two weeks since you last met up with him about the money envelope.

You look back down at your bag perched on your lap and unknowingly fiddle with the end of your gudetama keychain, a nervous habit of yours.

Jimin feels his own fingers twitch, reaching out towards your fidgety ones before he stops himself.

You had made yourself somewhat clear last time. Jimin felt you draw a certain line. Whether it was fear or genuine dislike, he wasn’t sure, but all he knew was that the two of you had boundaries that he had to keep in order to keep your friendship out of jeopardy.

Jimin sighs, reminding himself that your friendship is more important than his confusing feelings and pulls away his hand.

RRing.

At the sound of the obnoxious rings, you dig into your bag, looking for your phone.

The rings continue, attracting attention from the other passengers on the bus, and it’s only when Jimin feels the glares and hears harsh whispers directed in his direction that he fully turns to you, wondering why you weren’t picking up the call.

You stay still as a statue looking down at your phone. Jimin side-eyes your phone, lips slightly parting in realization once he reads the caller id.

Kim Seokjin.

You stare at your screen, reading the name over and over again, tuning out the rest of the bus who were now thoroughly annoyed.

It is only when the call ends and your family picture pops back up that you let out a shaky breath.

You start to put your phone back in your bag when the rings start again. A series of groans and sighs fill the bus.

Kim Seokjin.

Why was he calling? What else does he have to say?

“Aren’t you going to pick up?”

Your head sharply turns at Jimin’s question.

“What?”

Jimin shrugs, avoiding your eyes. “If you’re debating that much about answering his call, just answer it. If you’re over him, tell him clearly so he knows your definite stance in your relationship.”

You stay silent, pondering for a brief moment and finally get enough courage to swipe your finger across the call button.

“H-Hello?” you answer.

“Good evening,” an unfamiliar voice greets back, making your brows furrow and double-check if this was really Seokjin.

“Uh. . . who is this?” you ask as you see Jimin turning to you from the corner of your eye.

“Ah. Sorry about the inconvenience. This is Jeon Jungkook from Sky Lounge and I am calling from customer Kim Seokjin’s cell phone. Mr. Kim seems severely drunk at the moment and I saw that he called you just a few seconds ago so I figured you were somewhat closely affiliated with him?”

“Oh. . .No. . . Well, used to be, I guess,” you answer with uncertainty at the relation you have with Seokjin.

Have a definite stance in your relationship.

“Ah, well we need-”

“I would like to think I have very little relation to Mr. Kim,” you state. “I hope you can get him home safe. My apologies.”

“Wait Ma’am-”

You quickly tap the red button to end the call and toss your phone into your bag.

“Was that not Seokjin?” Jimin asks confusedly as you let out a long exhale.

You shake your head. “It was. . . but. . .”

He’ll get home safe, right? The Jungkook guy sounded nice over the phone. He’ll hail a cab or something right? But Seokjin seems dead drunk. What if he accidentally sleeps with a girl or gets taken advantage of? He’s currently in a vulnerable state. The bartender also mentioned that Seokjin called himself before he gave a second call. Why would Seokjin call me if he’s drunk? Maybe he wants me specifically to pick him up? Does he have no one else to call? Is that why he had no choice but to call me?

“Was it some manager or something? That rude rich people stu-”

“Sorry Jimin,” you hastily apologize, slamming the red button on the side of the bus, indicating for the bus driver to pull over on the curb. “Let’s get dinner tomorrow. I’ll call you later.”

Jimin sputters as you climb over his legs and speedily shuffle towards the open sliding doors.

“W-Wait. I’ll go with you.”

You hop off the bus, Jimin closely behind you as the bus takes off to leave the both of you in the middle of a random sidewalk near downtown.

“Y/N,” Jimin calls, grabbing hold of your wrist to turn you around and forcing you to stop in the midst of your hurried steps.

You’re slightly out of breath when you respond with a quiet ‘yea?’

“Can you please explain what’s going on?” he asks.

You sigh, tugging Jimin’s arm to walk while you explain. “It was a bartender at Sky Lounge. Apparently, Seokjin’s drunk right now.”

You cared. You still cared about Seokjin. Jimin’s lips turn into a straight line as he tries to ignore the bitter feeling entering him.

“I’m sure he’ll get home safe. The bartender will hail a cab for him or call someone else in his contact list.”

That’s rational. That’s the logical facts.

“I. . . I know,” you reply as Jimin catches up the few steps to walk beside you. “But I have to see for myself to get rid of this worrying feeling. What if something happens to him?”

Jimin suppresses the urge to tell you that there’s little to none possibility that someone as tall and intimidating as Seokjin, under the supervision of bartenders at a top-class bar, falls in danger. 

“Yeah. I get it,” Jimin lies.

He doesn’t get it.

You look at google maps pulled up on your phone that directs you to Sky Lounge, around a two-minute walk from where you currently are. You turn your head to your surroundings, finding something quite familiar about the buildings and restaurants in this specific part of downtown.

“There?” Jimin points towards the fancy looking bar near the end of the street.

The banner read in cursive, dark maroon red and white light, Sky Lounge.

“Yeah. Seems to be the place,” you pause, looking around once more. You recognize this street. “Hey isn’t that the five-star restaurant we ate in last time?”

Jimin follows your gaze to the said restaurant that he had paid for a while back. Jimin grimaces at the memory of his father pestering him if he had a girlfriend after that big gap in his credit card at a hot romantic dating spot.

“Yeah,” Jimin answers. “Sky Lounge is a luxury bar which is why all the five-star restaurants and stores are gathered here.”

“The elite town,” you smack your lips, adjusting your bag and walking down the sidewalk, past the flashy lamps and designer brand stores.

Soon enough, you arrive in front of the bar and with no hesitation, you pull open the glass doors only to get pulled by the doors yourself.

These were a lot heavier than you thought.

Jimin snickers next to you, nudging you aside and pulling the doors open with ease.

“I told you, you need to hit the gym,” Jimin mutters from behind you while you hurry into the bar with a half-hearted thanks, eyes scanning the tables and counters with all types of couples, businessmen, and businesswoman mingling and getting drunk.

You squint under the dim lights and spot a lone, slumped over figure at the counter. A tuft of dark brown hair poked out between the figure’s arms as their legs haphazardly dangled from underneath them. You glance at the coat draped over the man’s chair and you immediately recognize it as one of Seokjin’s designer brand coats that he wore the most often.

By often, you meant once every three months.

You quickly make your way over to Seokjin and try to shake him awake.

“Seokjin?” you clarify, grasping his arm and simultaneously shaking his shoulder.

You hear a series of incoherent grumbles and with a sudden jerk of his head, Seokjin’s eyes meet yours and they seem to bore into your soul.

Seokjin laughs in surprise, a whiff of strong liquor drifting into your nostrils and making you scrunch up your nose.

“Y/N,” Seokjin giggles.

Oh, he was extremelyyy drunk.

“Seokjin,” you sigh. “Why’d you drink so much? No, actually tell me later. Let’s get you home first, alright?”

Seokjin’s bottom lip juts out as he wiggles out of your grasp. “I aM a big kid. NO. Man. I’m a big, caaaaaapable man. You see thiS fACe? Wuuurldwide hannsum.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Are you now?”

Seokjin nods with a slight laugh.

You slightly pause in your tugging to properly take a look at him.

Despite the fact that he was drinking right now, it seemed that Seokjin still looked as healthy and unaffected as ever. Quite contrary to you whose hair was tied into a messy bun and eyes were slightly swollen every single morning from tearing up or straight up sobbing yourself to sleep.

How was it possible that a dead drunk man could still be so handsome? His reddened cheeks only made his face glow with a child-like innocence and put an odd emphasis to his lack of pores. The dim lighting of the bar only seemed to make his eyes brighter as he sat near the lights on the shelves. His tousled, messy hair only added to his attractiveness as he grumbled under his breath with those pouty pink lips.

“Are you Miss Y/N?”

You’re pulled out of your daze by a familiar voice. Over the counter stood Jungkook, the employee who had called you.

You immediately nod. “Yes. that’s me.”

Jungkook represses the urge to point out how you made it seem like you weren’t ever going to show up in Seokjin’s life again over the phone and instead shoots you a grateful smile. 

“Thank goodness. I’m Jungkook. The employee who called you earlier. My shift is almost over so I was just about to call a cab. Having someone Mr. Kim knows to pick him up is a lot more assuring.”

“Yeah. I got a little worried, so I just decided to come myself,” you say with a small laugh.

A movement from the corner of your eye makes you turn your attention to Seokjin who was attempting to stand up from his stool. As if in slow motion, Seokjin’s foot gets caught on the stool’s footrest, his eyes still closed from intoxication. His heavy form starts to lean towards you and before you know it, he’s full on falling towards your small frame, your helpless arms reaching out in a pointless attempt to brace yourself against a full grown man’s deadweight.

But, the impact of his body never comes.

Jungkook curiously eyes the other man in the picture who holds Seokjin in an awkward hug, shielding him from your body.

You peer up at Jimin who huffs as he waddles Seokjin back down onto the stool. Keeping his arm supporting Seokjin’s back, Jimin turns to Jungkook.

“Did this guy pay?” he asks.

Jungkook nods with widened eyes at what he just witnessed. “Yes. I charged everything to his card just a few minutes ago.”

Jimin nods and grabs Seokjin’s coat, poorly attempting to shove the drunken man’s limp arms through the holes with one arm while holding him up with the other arm.

You quickly intercept and help hold up the coat for Jimin who gives you a brief smile before successfully draping the coat around Seokjin and buttoning it up.

“Hey, can you help him get on my back?” Jimin asks with a non arguable tone.

You push away the habitual need to protest whenever Jimin gets too caring and instead nod with a slight sigh.

Seokjin whines as Jimin adjusts him on his back with a grunt.

“Have a good evening,” Jimin greets Jungkook, you doing the same as you swing Jimin’s bag over your own shoulder and trail after him.

Jungkook gives you a slight bow and quickly wipes down the counter where Seokjin was slobbering over before leaving. He tilts his head as he takes off his apron with genuine amusement at the relationship dynamic between the three of you.

It was quite obvious you had some kind of history with Seokjin judging from the tone of your voice over the call and after, your reaction. Perhaps an ex? Then, Jimin. Where did he fit in the picture?

Jungkook hums with a shake of his head, checking out with a beep of his employee card. If Jimin wasn’t romantically interested in you yet, he sure will be soon as seen from the way he was constantly putting himself between you and Seokjin.

How interesting, Jungkook muses. There would definitely be heartbreak between that trio.

[lostberryqueen]

Could Have Been Anyone

Ok, so this is not a fantheory, or a headcanon, or anything I want to be canon. Just an idea for how the show could have diverged from the books.

What if Mrs. Coulter wasn’t actually Lyra’s birthmother?

Mrs. Coulter can’t have any biological children, but when Asriel cheats on her and has a daughter, she realizes that she actually wants children. Lyra’s birthmother dies in childbirth. Edward Coulter almost kills Marisa in a drunken fit of rage because she couldn’t have children. Asriel steps in and saves Marisa and kills Edward. At the trail, Marisa just says that Asriel broke into the house, raped her and killed her husband. This of course results in their breakup. Then twelve years later when she’s doing her work on the Oblation Board, she remembers that Asriel had a child, and her feelings of inadequacy about not being able to meet the societal expectations of having children rise again. She initially adopts Lyra thinking it’s mostly about having control over Asriel, but as she spends time with her she realizes how much it’s actually about her wish that she was really Lyra’s birthmother. So she dresses Lyra different, changes her hair, tries to erase any similarity between Lyra and her biological mother, and make Lyra like her. 

“You are so like I was.”

The storyline would basically continue the same as it would if Mrs. Coulter were actually Lyra’s birthmother, except Mrs. Coulter’s despair would be more about what she could never be instead of what she could have been. 

[justferritalez]

Don't dim your light babygirl

Don't dim your light babygirl - Chloe Bailey

It's funny how the universe communicates. We are so conditioned to not pay attention. The messages are not always loud, but no less powerful. When we open ourselves to them the world begins to look like a very different place.

I have dimmed my light for more years than I would like to admit. I thought deep down I didn't deserve to be happy. I tried to fight my way through, but when I felt happiness near I would always turn away. I thought if I smiled and laughed one day it would reach the part of my heart that refused to receive love. I saw how much others hurt, I felt it in my own body. How could I allow myself to feel joy when so many people I loved are in pain?

I see so many children in my immediate and extended family in pain. I see their parents in pain. I see that horrible red thread of trauma weaving its way through each generation. Just like the elephant in the room, everyone pretends it's not there. Each generation learns to lash out in a different way, too afraid that on the other side is more pain instead of healing. We learn to dull the pain like a Tylenol with money, cars, clothes, and pretty pictures on Instagram or Facebook. Trying to convince ourselves and the world that we aren't miserable. Some of us are even so afraid that acknowledging our own thoughts is akin to torture.

At the beginning of lockdown in 2020, I thought I would thrive since I'm an introvert. By 2021 I learned that my assumptions of what it meant to thrive was arbitrary. I thought I would finally learn to play the guitar, piano, and finish a considerable amount of books waiting to be read on my bookshelves. Instead I was forced to dive deep into my relationship with religion, with societal expectations, and most importantly my own relationship with myself. The latter of which was most important.

I've always felt a call to something growing up. What it was I didn't know. I always tried to put it into words. I tried to put it into a career or something more tangible for my own human mind to digest. As I grew older, in my own mind I failed to accomplish what I had desired. I became gripped by fear with each year that passed. 30 was the year I told myself I would stop dreaming. I would buckle down. I would work towards the American Dream people always talk about. I'd get a good job, get married, buy a house, and have kids.

Before my 28th birthday came I was so excited for the upcoming year despite 30 looming near. I had a list of places I planned to go and things to do for my special day. Before I knew 28 had arrived. When I got all dressed up I couldn't shake this ominous feeling. Except for the sheer black top I wore I was dressed in all black, as if I was attending a funeral. Something wasn't right and I couldn't figure out what it was then. I may have made it to one or two places before I decided to return home. I was so sad, I couldn't stop myself from crying. I could barely look back at the pictures.

Before 30 came I did manage to accomplish the first two goals of the American Dream. I honored my self-imposed advice and hung up my silly dreams at 30. It was hard but I did what I thought was best to redirect my energy. To this day I always remember a conversation my cousin had with my mom years ago. One that broke my heart. I never forgot how it made me feel. She told my mom she was too old to dream. She was too old to accomplish the things she wanted to. She's 30 years my senior but I still believe if she wanted she could do anything she put her mind to. Yet here I was remembering that feeling and falling into the same mindset.

Since my teens I had always wanted to visit Japan. Especially after my dad passed away when I was 16. Ironically j-pop(and shortly after k-pop) was something that offered me a lifeline during my grief. I had plans to study abroad, but my grief and fear of losing my mother held me back. When 30 came after I had given up on my dreams, this dream unexpectedly came forward. My husband and I planned to celebrate our honeymoon/1st anniversary in Japan. It was amazing! I felt so free and so at home at the same time. We talked about moving there years before, but that's all it ever was. Now that we were there, we knew it really was a possibility. Unfortunately at the end of our trip tragedy struck. Just like it struck us after we got married. And once again just like the day I turned 30 another dream had to be swept away.

I tried my best to convince myself this is just the way the cookie crumbles. Maybe this isn't the life I wanted exactly. So many people would be happy to have this life. I would convince myself to keep my head down and appreciate it. In hindsight I think back and acknowledge you can appreciate something, and still acknowledge that it isn't right for you. What good is a $200 shirt if it doesn't fit?

There were two prominent questions that kept coming up during lockdown. Who are you? What do you want? So simple but terrifying for me to answer. In trying to answer them I realize I never truly asked myself this. No wait I did, but I didn't listen. I didn't listen to the one person who was driving this ship. I listened to the opinions of others. Surely those who have spent more time on earth than me knew what they were talking about. Then I realized they didn't. They were doing the same thing that I had done. They too ignored what they wanted, instead aspiring for the lives their family, friends, and acquaintances told them would make them happy.

For years I always felt these weird emotions in my body. Emotions that were not my own. I could be perfectly fine and walk into a room and feel overwhelmed. I Couldn't figure out why. The room was just filled with people. Why did I care what they thought of me? We all have our own lives to live, right? I begin to realize while acknowledging my own inauthenticity to myself, how so many other people were struggling with the same issue. They couldn't understand why they had the house, the car, the job, the children, and the spouse yet they were still so unhappy.

The truth is happiness cannot be found externally. It can only be found within you. The more you put all your balls in one basket thinking it will make you happy, the more you will be disappointed. If you can't stand the one person who will be with you every moment of your life you will never be happy.

I've always wanted to have kids. I was probably more excited to get married because I couldn't wait to be a mom. For some strange reason after I got married I became afraid to get pregnant. I originally thought it was because my Grammy was sick. After she passed I still couldn't shake that fear. I thought maybe I was just being overly cautious. People with less have had children and thrived in many cases. I was constantly being told that "You can never prepare for children." Still I couldn't shake the fear.

I had two amazing parents growing up. We weren't rich, but they provided for me the best they could. They did a great job, and I'll admit that I was spoiled. I took a look at the traumas I've experienced throughout my life. I looked at the things that triggered me the most. It was myself, it was a younger version of myself. My inner child as some call it.  Although I had great parents, outside of them I still was inflicted with trauma even they couldn't prevent. The person that hurt me, and the people who I've seen mistreat children, have a tendency to neglect themselves and their trauma and tend to be obsessed with how things look instead of how they are.  I did not want to be that type of person. Realizing that, I became passionate about trying to heal my own trauma, in hope to prevent my own children from inheriting this mindset.

Here is where my story truly begins. It began when I began to acknowledge myself. When I recognized myself, I put my happiness in moving to California, in my husband,  in the image of my life. I put my happiness in everything but myself. I still have work to do, but I believe that I am worth it. Every moment I choose myself, I grow and heal my wounded self.

I've begun to release past hurt and trauma that I've experienced. I'm learning that just because people who loved me hurt me in the past, doesn't mean everyone will hurt me. I'm learning to forgive myself for being angry for so long. I'm acknowledging I had every right to be angry, but staying angry was no benefit to me. I'm learning I deserve to say no if I don't want to do something, and I'm not obligated to make anyone happy except myself. People's feelings may be hurt, but I didn't ask them to count on me to make them happy. I'm happy to help others, but I will no longer pour every bit of what is in my cup into another's.

During lockdown my wardrobe got much darker. I wore black almost every day. Although black is an amazing and powerful color, it symbolically felt as if I was mourning myself. I was mourning the part of me that didn't know her worth. I let myself be her for a time, and now I release her. I will gladly put her to rest. I've decided that I won't dim my light for anyone anymore. I won't even dim my light for myself. I will get to a place where I am confidently and unapologetically me. I will shine like the rays of the sun on a hot summer day without a cloud in sight. Just like the world needs the sun, the world needs us all to shine just as bright.

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

New Girl in Little Cove by Damhnait Monaghan

 Small conservative Catholic community in need of a teacher

Novice teacher in need of change seeks it in new community

Will she be welcomed?

Will she fit in?

Will she find what she needs?  

And how will the community react deal with this new person from away?

 Filled with community, culture, and so much more – this story drew me in, made me care, and hope for happy endings for more than one character in the story.

 What I liked:

* The setting – having never been to Newfoundland it felt as if I was making the trip with the main character.

* The writing: skillful, friendly, descriptive and immersive.

* Rachel O’Brien: newly graduated, early twenties, grieving, modern, giving, good friend, caring, kind, immersed in a new culture, grows a LOT during the story, someone I admire.

* Doug Bishop: teacher of science and phys ed, probationary teacher, from Little Cover, loving son, caring, kind, intelligent, intriguing.

* Lucille, Biddy and the rest of the hookers – wonderful, caring, giving, creative, strong, community minded women that provide social and emotional support for one another (and others)

* Patrick Donovan: Principal, knowledgeable, patient, kind, a good man, there for his teachers and students

* Students with their individual needs, problems, and potential

* The ways Rachel ended up connecting with her students and others

* The romance that slowly developed between Rachel and Doug

* Sheila: Rachel’s BFF

* Rachel’s backstory

* Feeling like I was becoming part of the community/story

* The music and art elements of the story

* All of it really, except…

 What I didn’t like:

* Thinking about the sadness and loss experienced by more than one character in the story

* Knowing that too often the best option for individuals is overlooked due to moral, religious, educational or societal values.

 Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more by this author? Yes

 Thank you to NetGalley and harper Collins-Graydon House-HQN for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 5 Stars

Book Summary:

 Take a literary trip to Newfoundland: the island of the world’s friendliest people, the setting for the award-winning musical Come From Away, and home of the delightfully quirky and irresistibly charming debut, NEW GIRL IN LITTLE COVE (May 11; $16.99; Graydon House Books) by Damhnait Monaghan! After being utterly scandalized by the abrupt departure of their school’s only French teacher (she ran off with a priest!) the highly Catholic, very tiny town of Little Cove, Newfoundland needs someone who doesn’t rock the boat. Enter mainlander Rachel O’Brien —technically a Catholic (baptized!), technically a teacher (unused honors degree!)— who is so desperate to leave her old life behind, she doesn’t bother to learn the (allegedly English) local dialect. Stuck on an island she’s never known surrounded by a people and culture she barely understands, Rachel struggles to feel at home. Only the intervention of her crotchety landlady, a handsome fellow teacher, and the Holy Dusters – the local women who hook rugs and clean the church – will assure Rachel’s salvation in this little island community.

 Buy Links:

BookShop.org

Harlequin

Barnes & Noble

Amazon

Books-A-Million

Powell’s

EXCERPT

Chapter 1

 September 1985

Little Cove: Population 389

 The battered sign came into view as my car crested a hill on the gravel road. Only 389 people? Damn. I pulled over and got out of the car, inhaling the moist air. Empty boats tilted against the wind in the bay below. A big church dominated the valley, beside which squatted a low, red building, its windows dark, like a row of rotten teeth. This was likely St. Jude’s, where tomorrow I would begin my teaching career.

“You lost?”

I whirled around. A gaunt man, about sixty, straddled a bike beside me. He wore denim overalls and his white hair was combed neatly back from his forehead.

“Car broke down?” he continued.

“No,” I said. “I’m just … ” My voice trailed off. I could hardly confide my second thoughts to this stranger. “…admiring the view.”

He looked past me at the flinty mist now spilling across the bay. A soft rain began to fall, causing my carefully straightened hair to twist and curl like a mass of dark slugs.

“Might want to save that for a fine day,” he said. His accent was strong, but lilting. “It’s right mauzy today.”

“Mossy?”

“Mauzy.” He gestured at the air around him. Then he folded his arms across his chest and gave me a once-over. “Now then,” he said. “What’s a young one like you doing out this way?”

“I’m not that young,” I shot back. “I’m the new French teacher out here.”

A smile softened his wrinkled face. “Down from Canada, hey?”

As far as I knew, Newfoundland was still part of Canada, but I nodded.

“Phonse Flynn,” he said, holding out a callused hand. “I’m the janitor over to St. Jude’s.”

“Rachel,” I said. “Rachel O’Brien.”

“I knows you’re staying with Lucille,” he said. “I’ll show you where she’s at.”

With an agility that belied his age, he dismounted and gently lowered his bike to the ground. Then he pointed across the bay. “Lucille’s place is over there, luh.”

Above a sagging wharf, I saw a path that cut through the rocky landscape towards a smattering of houses. I’d been intrigued at the prospect of a boarding house; it sounded Dickensian. Now I was uneasy. What if it was awful?

“What about your bike?” I asked, as Phonse was now standing by the passenger-side door of my car.

“Ah, sure it’s grand here,” he said. “I’ll come back for it by and by.”

“Aren’t you going to lock it?”

I thought of all the orphaned bike wheels locked to racks in Toronto, their frames long since ripped away. Jake had been livid when his racing bike was stolen. Not that I was thinking about Jake. I absolutely was not.

“No need to lock anything ’round here,” said Phonse.

I fumbled with my car keys, embarrassed to have locked the car from habit.

“Need some help?”

“The lock’s a bit stiff,” I said. “I’ll get used to it.”

Phonse waited while I jiggled in vain. Then he walked around and held out his hand. I gave him the key, he stuck it in and the knob on the inside of the car door popped up immediately.

“Handyman, see,” he said. “Wants a bit of oil, I allows. But like I said, no need to lock ’er. Anyway, with that colour, who’d steal it?” I had purchased the car over the phone, partly for its price, partly for its colour. Green had been Dad’s favourite colour, and when the salesman said mountain green, I’d imagined a dark, verdant shade. Instead, with its scattered rust garnishes, the car looked like a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream. Still, it would fit right in. I eyeballed the houses as we drove along: garish orange, lime green, blinding yellow. Maybe there had been a sale on paint.

As we passed the church, Phonse blessed himself, fingers moving from forehead to chest, then on to each shoulder. I kept both hands firmly on the steering wheel.

“Where’s the main part of Little Cove?” I asked.

“You’re looking at it.”

There was nothing but a gas station and a takeout called MJ’s, where a clump of teenagers was gathered outside, smoking. A tall, dark-haired boy pointed at my car and they all turned to stare. A girl in a lumber jacket raised her hand. I waved back before I realized she was giving me the finger. Embarrassed, I peeked sideways at Phonse. If he’d noticed, he didn’t let on.

Although Phonse was passenger to my driver, I found myself thinking of Matthew Cuthbert driving Anne Shirley through Avonlea en route to Green Gables. Not that I’d be assigning romantic names to these landmarks. Anne’s “Snow Queen” cherry tree and “Lake of Shining Waters” were nowhere to be seen. It was more like Stunted Fir Tree and Sea of Grey Mist. And I wasn’t a complete orphan; it merely felt that way.

At the top of a hill, Phonse pointed to a narrow dirt driveway on the right. “In there, luh.”

I parked in front of a small violet house encircled by a crooked wooden fence. A rusty oil tank leaned into the house, as if seeking shelter. When I got out, my nose wrinkled at the fishy smell. Phonse joined me at the back of the car and reached into the trunk for my suitcases.

“Gentle Jaysus in the garden,” he grunted. “What have you got in here at all? Bricks?” He lurched ahead of me towards the house, refusing my offer of help.

The contents of my suitcases had to last me the entire year; now I was second-guessing my choices. My swimsuit and goggles? I wouldn’t be doing lengths in the ocean. I looked at the mud clinging to my sneakers and regretted the suede dress boots nestled in tissue paper. But I knew some of my decisions had been right: a raincoat, my portable cassette player, stacks of homemade tapes, my hair straighteners and a slew of books.

When Phonse reached the door, he pushed it open, calling, “Lucille? I got the new teacher here. I expect she’s wore out from the journey.” As he heaved my bags inside, a stout woman in a floral apron and slippers appeared: Lucille Hanrahan, my boarding house lady.

“Phonse, my son, bring them bags upstairs for me now,” she said.

I said I would take them but Lucille shooed me into the hall, practically flapping her tea towel at me. “No, girl,” she said. “You must be dropping, all the way down from Canada. Let’s get some grub in you before you goes over to the school to see Mr. Donovan.”

Patrick Donovan, the school principal, had interviewed me over the phone. I was eager to meet him.

“Oh, did he call?” I asked.

“No.”

Lucille smoothed her apron over her belly, then called up the stairs to ask Phonse if he wanted a cup of tea. There was a slow beat of heavy boots coming down. “I’ll not stop this time,” said Phonse. “But Lucille, that fence needs seeing to.”

Lucille batted her hand at him. “Go way with you,” she said. “It’s been falling down these twenty years or more.” But as she showed him out, they talked about possible repairs, the two of them standing outside, pointing and gesturing, oblivious to the falling rain.

A lump of mud fell from my sneaker, and I sat down on the bottom step to remove my shoes. When Lucille returned, she grabbed the pair, clacked them together outside the door to remove the remaining mud, then lined them up beside a pair of sturdy ankle boots.

I followed her down the hall to the kitchen, counting the curlers that dotted her head, pink outposts in a field of black and grey.

“Sit down over there, luh,” she said, gesturing towards a table and chairs shoved against the back window. I winced at her voice; it sounded like the classic two-pack-a-day rasp.

The fog had thickened, so nothing was visible outside; it was like watching static on TV. There were scattered cigarette burns on the vinyl tablecloth and worn patches on the linoleum floor. A religious calendar hung on the wall, a big red circle around today’s date. September’s pin-up was Mary, her veil the exact colour of Lucille’s house. I was deep in Catholic territory, all right. I hoped I could still pass for one.

 Excerpted from New Girl in Little Cove by Damhnait Monaghan, Copyright © 2021 by Damhnait Monaghan

Published by Graydon House Books

   AUTHOR BIO

 DAMHNAIT MONAGHAN was once a  mainlander who taught in a small fishing village in Newfoundland. A former  teacher and lawyer, Monaghan has almost sixty publication credits, including  flash fiction, creative non-fiction, and short stories. Her short prose has  won or placed in various writing competitions and has been nominated for a  Pushcart Prize, Best Small Fictions, and Best Microfictions. New Girl in Little Cove placed in the  top six from more than 350 entries in the 2019 International Caledonia Novel  Award.

 Social Links:

Author Website

Twitter: @Downith

Instagram: @Downith1

Facebook: @AuthorDMonaghan

Goodreads

[londonfog-chan]

The Trans!Reader x Jonathan Joestar That No One Asked For But is Getting Anyway Because Fuck Convention: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

This one goes out to all my people who requested a Trans!Reader insert on my other blogs, I’m trying to test the waters with this one to make sure I’m doing it justice. No one should ever have to feel bad about themselves and I want this to be my love letter to all of my trans folks out there.

...

[[MORE]]

At first, she didn’t recognize the young man standing alone on the hill. Maybe you’d been chased off by him, and she worried when she saw your box in his hand. Heartbroken, thinking that your treasure had been commandeered by a brute. But the wind betrayed the boy, billowing locks of hair and instantly she broke out into a run, the turquoise fabric of her dress flaring out behind her as she hitched up her skirts, her blonde hair trailing behind her like a cape.

“I am here!” she called your name, and when the young man turned she saw the friend she’d known since infancy.

“Oh my!” the lightest dusting of pink tinges her cheeks as she skids to a halt directly in front of you. “You look… Dashing! Such fanciful clothes.”

“I had to make an impression darling.” You reply, smiling shyly and holding a hat box closely to your chest. “My brother won’t miss the trousers nor the blouse, but the shoes… They’re far too big for me. And… And I’m unsure how to tie the cravat...”

“Don’t fret, I can fix it for you! Look, I’ve even brought some things for you to pin up your hair. We’ll have you all primped in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

Like a mother, Erina Pendleton takes you between her knees on the grassy knoll. Armed with a brush and a coil of ribbon, she pulled and twisted your snarled tangles up and away from your face. You obediently pulled a man’s cap out of the hatbox and over your head as Erina finished with your hair and took your shoes off, pulling stockings from her basket and stuffing your shoes until they fit snugly when she tied the laces.

“Oh…” she smiles when she’s done, and for some reason it makes your heart tingle the slightest bit.

“What do you think?” you ask.

“I think… I think you’re positively handsome, and you seem to be less tightly wound. Especially around the eyes.”

You’re unsure of how you look, so you can’t say for certain that you feel the clothes have done anything to make you less of a wreck emotionally. Raising your arms over your head, you look at your shoes, the cravat Erina showed you how to tie around your neck, the tweed trousers. Everything is in muted colors, not a stitch of brightness to be seen save for the handkerchief peeping from your breast pocket. When you stole the clothes from the discarded trunk your brother left behind before he went to India, you felt exhilarated, frightened at the prospect of getting caught and possibly taking a switch for your boldness. Yet when your mother caught you taking them, she merely laughed and told you they wouldn't fit your brother even if you decided to fix them up, but if you wanted some play clothes they were more than adequate to serve that purpose. You decidedly felt deflated, a bit hurt she didn't really do anything and dismissed you as though you were an eccentric child playing at a game instead of a young man trying to come into his own. But you do feel something now that Erina has fixed you up… almost airy. And she is right, you don’t feel the strain around your eyes anymore. After a while however, you begin to squirm, indeed feeling something but not the freedom nor the personal acceptance you've been trying to achieve.

“My trousers chafe me so!” you complained. “Have they not managed to figure out a finer weave of fabric for the warmer months?!”

“Stop scratching! You’re being so vulgar!" Erina whines, but it does nothing to deter you from reaching into the band of your pants and scratching violently everywhere.

"Damn and blast!"

"Sophisticated gentlemen don't reach into their drawers and scratch in front of a lady!" she scolds, "You said you want to unleash the gentleman inside you, what would he say to this display?”

“Well right now the gentleman inside me wants me to tend to the war raging on my buttocks!”

Erina cries your name, begging you to stop scratching your rear end with a ferocity that nearly makes you roar in frustration. It does take quite a long time for you to relent, damning the conventions of polite society all the way and using rough language that the poor girl has unfortunately become accustomed to. For a while you complain some more about the clothes, the societal expectation to be covered at all times, the fact that neither gender is truly free of their own volition, and the revolution you wish to start for a society that is nothing short of anarchy.

"Everyone will be allowed to run stark naked if they wish to, or to be draped in silks and I'll make all these pompous aristocrats provide every necessity. I grow weary of hearing the necessities of decorum every five minutes when I simply wish to fulfill a human need!"

“Now, now…” Erina coos gently, brushing blades of grass from your trousers. “Look here, you’ve unsightly grass stains.

"If I must return to my flouncing hell I'll take care of it later." you told her. "Grass stains speak to a boy that craves adventure. An Odysseus!"

"I'm sure it does." she giggles. "But all this talk of treasure, we still haven’t taken care of the most important part.”

“… I’d nearly forgotten about that. Let me get her for you…”

You finally relinquish the tight hold you’ve been keeping on your hat box, slowly opening the lid and reaching in with both hands. Cradling your treasure as though it’s a child, you rock your precious doll back and forth, smoothing the cascading brown curls down and fixing her skirts. It takes a while for you to let go. You don’t want to let the poor thing go. She is far beyond a play thing, she was your bearer of the most heartfelt confessions and tears, the first to know of your beginning metamorphosis back when you feared Erina would call you horrific names if you told her your most guarded secret.

Now, when you look up at Erina, you know you’ve made the right decision to trust her. She scoots closer to you as you tremble, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and not once making a move to steal the doll from your grasp. In fact, she doesn’t presume to take it until you offer it to her, and then she treats it as though she is receiving a holy relic.

“Please…” you beseech your best friend, “Give her a good home, with plenty of love and affection. She likes to sleep beside your pillow in her box, and her favorite holiday is Easter, her favorite food is spice cake…”

“You can trust me, my dearest friend. I promise to take very good care of Aphrodite for you.”

Slender fingers reached forward to stroke your cheek, clearing away the tears that have fallen for the poor doll you relinquished. As she cleans your face, she tells you the doll will never leave her sight, fully prepared to cater to her every whim as though she's a princess and not made of wax. Yet Erina is right. You mustn’t cry. It’s only for a little while that Erina will have her, until you’re grown up and have a house of your own to keep your possessions. Unsure of your parent's reaction when you finally decide that they need to know they've lost a daughter and obtained a son, you told Erina it's better to keep Aphrodite away lest she is destroyed. You promised your dolly she'd be safer with Erina those nights you cuddled her, seeking reassurance from the persecution you knew you’d face from the rest of the world.

“When I’m a grown man, I’ll be a renowned physician.” You asserted aloud. “I’ll have a big house, millions of books, my piano, and I’ll play Aphrodite’s favorite songs for her every single day. If I am not accepted, then that will be fine. No family will be permitted to enter my abode except for you, my dearest Erina. We will have twenty dogs apiece, and I shall give them only the strongest names from Greco Roman literature.”

“Twenty apiece?!” Erina exclaimed. “Don’t you think that’s a mite excessive?”

“Not at all, in fact I think that’s hardly a proper minimum requirement for a house.”

All this talk of dogs and estates with room for a man and his doll makes you excited, and you cannot help but take your borrowed handkerchief from your pocket to wipe your face. The wind evidently shared your sentiments, as the minute you loosened your grip the scrap of fabric floated away on a gust that made you clutch your hat for fear of losing it.

“Oh no!” Erina whimpered. “I hand embroidered that handkerchief!”

“A thousand pardons darling! I’ll fetch it back!” you cried, and you’re up and running before she can stop you.

As you chased the scrap of fabric, you couldn’t help but feel elated. There was no tug at your waist that made your insides hurt and your breathing shallow, no skirts to trip you and confine you to a chair where you practiced the same stitch over and over until your fingers felt they would break. None of the insecurity and strangeness at inhabiting a body that did not feel like it belonged to you. You only felt the wind at your face, the hard earth below your brother’s shoes as you ran… No longer did you feel trapped, like a lion pacing a tiny cage in the circus.

You felt elated at last. As though finally, after all this time, you were living your truth.

It was Erina’s screams that finally snapped you from your euphoria. Pocketing the runaway handkerchief, you began your course back to the grassy knoll where you left her, fearing the worst when you heard her crying out “please! Please put her down!” Your heart sank. Not only was your dearest friend being assaulted, but her tormentor evidently had commandeered Aphrodite because there was only one other “her” that Erina could be referring to. She never referred to you in the old way anymore, not since your confession.

You made it just in time to see a young man being beaten to the ground, two other snot nosed brats, had commandeered Aphrodite and you heard talk of them going to lift up her skirts to see if she'd been made with all the right parts…

And the last thing you remembered was seeing red, absolutely seething with rage as you put a shoe up the ass of one of the boys and nearly launched Aphrodite into Erina’s arms. All the frustration, all the anger you felt your entire life of living a life that wasn’t yours, it came out in the form of an unchecked feral response that made the boys cry out for mercy as they left you, Erina, and the downtrodden young man alone. By the time you'd let them go, they could only hobble off pathetically. In your rage you vaguely recalled screaming to them that perhaps you'd check if they'd been given all the right parts, one of the boys had taken your brother's shoe to the groin and was being dragged along by his companion. Your face was dripping with sweat and tears, and your hands were sore and bloody. The blonde didn’t know who to comfort first, but when your eyes befell on the strapping young lad she too went to his aid.

“Don’t touch me!” he whined. “I didn’t do it for you, you know! A gentleman should always stand for a damsel in distress!”

“… then I suppose a thank you is in order for me?”

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. Even you're shocked at the personality you've assumed in your new clothes. With little effort your voice has become commanding, a general's voice that is full of conviction. Your stance is confident, centered, alone in your room you often perused illustrations in books of the matadores from Spain and admired the way they carried themselves in the charcoal drawings. Compared to the uptight men of this era, you swore to yourself you'd reject the stiffness of aristocracy and instead would carry yourself as unyielding as a man facing a bull. The young man looks up at you, crimson with rage, shaking and nose streaming carmine down his face. He and Erina have the same bewildered and intimidated expression, and he flinches but does not lash out when you heave him to his feet. He finally bolts from the clearing, insulting you as though you’re the one that beat him to a pulp, and for quite some time you and Erina stare after his retreating form.

"You brute!" he whimpers as he runs away.

“Who in the blue hell…” you begin, and you see Erina approaching with an unfamiliar handkerchief in hand to wrap your bloody knuckles.

Through the blood, the two of you manage to read the words “Jonathan Joestar”, looking back at the expanse of land where the boy had run off to even more confused and left with far more questions than answers.

But one thing is certain and you loathe it to be the first thought you have in your emergence into boyhood: this Jonathan Joestar fellow is the most handsome man you've ever seen in your life.

[hamliet]

Su She and Jin ZiXun: Society vs. Connection

Or, the SuXun meta no one asked for. (I’m kidding about SuXun.)

In all seriousness, though, this meta will focus on Su She and Jin ZiXun, who, while they initially come across as semi-unlikable one-note antagonists necessary for plot connections and not much else, both actually have a ton of depth and thematic relevance. In particular, they are both used to explore the concepts of insecurity and arrogance through the lens of privilege, thereby exemplifying the novel’s central paradox: society is a corrupting disease, but human connection saves.

Jin ZiXun and Su She are extremely similar characters; in fact, I’d say the only difference in their characters is essentially that Jin ZiXun is privileged and Su She is not. The defining trait for both seems to be arrogance. Arrogance and insecurity are very common character traits in Mao Dao Zu Shi (in addition to these two, we also see them to various extents in Jin ZiXuan, Jin GuangYao, Wei WuXian, Wen Chao, Wen Ning, Jiang Cheng, and Jin Ling).

Jin ZiXun is privileged in ways Su She could never be. He looks down on everyone around him except for one notable exception (to be discussed further on). He’s said to consider Jin GuangYao, his cousin, as being of “lowly” background and it’s added that he “was ashamed to be of one clan [with Jin GuangYao].” When he acts arrogant, trying to force Lan XiChen and Lan WangJi to drink with him despite Jin GuangYao’s protests that they do not drink, he appeals to the idea of perceived scorn to manipulate them, thereby revealing what is most likely his true fear of insecurity:

“The Jin Sect and the Lan Sect have always been like one family. We’re all the same. My two Lan brothers, if you don’t drink this, you’d be looking down on me!”

It’s also notable how society responds to his evident insecurity manifesting as narcissistic arrogance:

On the side, a few of his followers all praised, “What a bold move!”“That’s just how an esteemed cultivator should act!”

However, Su She’s position in society is quite different, and therefore so is his manifestation of his insecurity.

The incident with the waterborne abyss is where we first meet him, and it tells us all we need to know about society in the novel and Su She’s position in it:

a disciple on the other side also drew out his sword, thrusting it toward a dark shadow which swiftly swam by in the water.

However, after his sword went underwater, it never came out again. He chanted the sword incantation for a few more times, but nothing was retrieved from the water. It was as if his sword had been devoured by the lake, disappearing without a trace. The disciple looked like he was a youth of similar age as Wei WuXian and the others. Without his sword, his face grew paler and paler. An older disciple beside him spoke, “Su She, right now, we still haven’t determined what the thing inside the water is. Why did you act on your own and make your sword go underwater?”

Su She seemed like he was somewhat flustered, but his expression was relatively calm, “I saw that Second Young Master also…”

He realized, before he even finished speaking, how unsuitable this sentence was. No matter what, the Bichen sword or Lan WangJi were not comparable with others… He glimpsed at Lan WangJi, but Lan WangJi didn’t look at him, and instead attentively observed the water…

This passage emphasizes Lan WangJi’s biggest flaw: his inability to say what he needs to say. It also indicates, again, what society thinks of Su She: they don’t notice him. Everything he does appears to be for naught. He’s just not important. (The comment about Su She being unable to compare to Lan WangJi also draws to mind Wen Ning’s ultimate rebuke of Jiang Cheng.)

The waterborne abyss is itself a symbol of society, as it is sent to the Gusu Lan Sect’s territory from the uppermost sect in society:

Although they knew where the waterborne abyss came from, everyone grew silent.

If it was done by people of the Wen Sect, then there would be no result no matter how hard they accused or criticized. First of all, the sect wouldn’t admit it, and second, there wouldn’t be any compensation either.

The abyss, or society, eats up Su She’s accomplishments (and sword) and tries to swallow Su She in the end. Wei WuXian risks his life to save Su She, and then Jiang Cheng observes them, but cannot help (foreshadowing what will later happen when Wei WuXian dies: Su She will unknowingly lead to Wei WuXian’s destruction, Jiang Cheng will stand by and let it happen, and Lan WangJi will act). Lan WangJi pulls them all from the abyss, symbolizing how human connection is ultimately the answer for society’s poison.

So let’s talk Jin ZiXun and Su She’s connections next. Jin ZiXun has a one-sided personal beef with our protagonist Wei WuXian, while Su She has a one-sided rivalry with our other main character, Lan WangJi. And both Jin ZiXun and Su She have someone they esteem as more important than themselves, someone they cling to and use as a way to feel less insecure themselves. For Jin ZiXun, this person is his cousin Jin ZiXuan, who is repeatedly held up as a societal ideal. In fact, Jin ZiXun is introduced to us challenging Wei WuXian when he is unimpressed by Jin ZiXuan’s accomplishments, proclaiming, “If anyone here remains unconvinced, then feel free to try if you can shoot better than ZiXuan!”

For Su She, this person is Jin GuangYao, Jin ZiXuan’s brother who is on the outskirts of society because of his birth as the illegitimate son of a prostitute and a sect leader. Ironically, it’s Jin GuangYao’s desire for acceptance by anyone and everyone (but especially societally important people, as his father is) that leads to Su She and Jin GuangYao forming a bond--at the same moment Su She forms a rift with his privileged foil Jin ZiXun:

Someone spat, “Is this a road that someone like you can walk on? Who let you roam around!”

A young voice replied, “I’m sorry. I…”

Hearing this, Lan XiChen and Lan WangJi looked up at the same time. Beside the wall reliefs stood two men. The one who had just scolded someone was Jin ZiXun, with a few servants and cultivators following behind him. The one who had been scolded was a white-clothed young man. When the man saw Lan XiChen and Lan WangJi, his face immediately went pale. He couldn’t even continue with the things he wanted to say. As Jin ZiXun kept up his haughty guise, Jin GuangYao came to the rescue just in time.

He went to the white-clothed man, “The paths of Koi Tower are rather intricate. Young Master Su, it’s not your fault that you got lost. You can come with me.”

Seeing that he appeared, Jin ZiXun sneered and walked around them. The white-clothed man, however, hesitated, “You know me?”

Jin GuangYao smiled, “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I? Haven’t we met each other once? Young Master Su, Su MinShan, your swordsmanship is quite good. I’ve been thinking ever since the hunt at Phoenix Mountain about what a pity it’d be if such a young talent didn’t come to our sect. In the end, though, he did come to our sect. I was over the moon with joy. This way, please?”

There were countless cultivators who sought assistance by going to the LanlingJin Sect like Su She did. He thought that not many people would recognize him, having never expected Jin GuangYao to be able to remember him so clearly, going as far as to praise him, after just one hasty encounter with him. Instantly, Su She seemed to be more relieved. He ceased to look at the Lan brothers and followed Jin GuangYao away, scared that they’d mock or point at him.

The sad thing is that the Lan brothers likely would not have mocked him. In the end, both Jin ZiXun and Su She die with these respective friends of theirs, as nothing more than mere footnotes to the Jin brothers’ deaths. However, Su She’s death, in particular, shows us another aspect to his relationship with Jin GuangYao: even on the outskirts of society, they had a genuine connection.

After the waterborne abyss, the next time the novel introduces Su She is when he tries to sacrifice MianMian to appease Wen Chao (a symbol of arrogance and societal acceptance if there ever was one):

However, one of the GusuLan Sect’s disciples on the side had been trembling as he listened to Wen Chao’s threatening words. He finally couldn’t hold it any longer as he rushed over, grabbing MianMian, and prepared to tie her up. Lan WangJi’s brows stiffened. He immediately struck the disciple to the side.

Although he didn’t say anything, the way he looked at the disciple was more than imposing. What such a look meant was clear to everyone—it truly is a shame that the GusuLan Sect has taught a disciple like you!

The disciple’s shoulders quivered as he backed off slowly, unable to face the others’ eyes.

It is however an interesting reversal that Su She dies in a manner that redeems both of his earlier shames that drove him out of the Lan Sect. He dies sacrificing himself to save Jin GuangYao, rather than trying to sacrifice someone else, and he dies sacrificing his sword instead of losing it:

Su She dodged to the side with force. With the tip of his foot he picked up the sword that had fallen to the ground and conjured up all of his spiritual energy in one thrust at Nie MingJue’s heart. Perhaps because of the dire situation, the attack was abnormally swift and ruthless. Brimming with spiritual energy, the blade glowed brightly, enveloped by swirling radiance. It was so much better than all of the previous seemingly-elegant attacks that even Wei WuXian wanted to praise its excellence….

However, the sword had been infused with so much spiritual energy, due to Su She’s sudden explosion, that it could no longer withstand it. Halfway through the lunge, it broke into pieces with a crack.

On the other hand, Nie MingJue’s punch landed right in the center of Su She’s chest. Su She’s splendor left as quickly as it came. He couldn’t even spit out a mouthful of blood or say a few last words, no matter with dignity or cruelty, before the life in his eyes went out.

The symbolism of the sword is twofold: firstly, all the powers in the world can’t actually accomplish anything more than having little power can. The curse of insecurity originates with himself, which is why the rebound curse leaves him with holes on his chest.

Jin ZiXun’s death is also symbolic: he is cursed by Insecurity Embodied in Su She, cursed with the Curse of a Hundred Holes, which leaves holes on his body, symbolizing how he feels incomplete, and also marking him as a pariah from society.

Additionally, he allows this curse to separate him from the person he’s closest with, Jin ZiXuan:

“Why didn’t you tell me at all that you were cursed with Hundred Holes and instead came to do this without saying anything?!”

The fact that Jin ZiXun had been cursed with Hundred Holes was indeed an unspeakable matter. First of all, he had both a good appearance and a good physique. He’d always thought of himself as handsome and couldn’t bear for others to know that he was under such an unsightly, repulsive curse. Second of all, to have been cursed meant that his level of cultivation wasn’t high enough, since his spiritual energy was too weak to be able to hold against the curse.

In contrast, Su She’s death involves him becoming closer with someone he has a genuine connection with, because by helping Jin GuangYao, he knows that he’s going against society. As Wei WuXian says, the entire world is coming for Jin GuangYao, yet Su She still helps him.

To return to the sacrificial nature of Su She’s death, it’s also hard not to compare it with a sacrifice that happens earlier the same scene (and kind of the same chapter): Wen Ning’s sacrifice for Jiang Cheng, who is sacrificing himself for Jin Ling.

Jiang Cheng could only stuff Jin Ling behind him and unsheathe Sandu, which at the moment was unable to use spiritual energy, forcing himself to fend off the attack...

Wen Ning blocked himself before the wall, in front of the two of them. With both his hands, he grabbed Nie MingJue’s iron arm and slowly pulled it out of his chest, leaving behind a large, hollow hole. There was no bleeding. Only a couple of black organ crumbs fell out.

Wei WuXian, “Wen Ning!!!”

While Jiang Cheng looked as though he could lose his mind right there. He stammered, “You? You?!”

Wen Ning actually a character who is important to both Jin ZiXun and Su She’s stories throughout the novel.

Like Su She, he is insecure and regarded as weak by others. Like Jin ZiXun, he is, however, a skilled archer. And of course, he is killed in one of Jin ZiXun’s camps, by Jin ZiXun’s guards after Jin ZiXun failed to capture a monster:

Wei WuXian looked at him, “Who are you?”

Jin ZiXun paused in surprise before fuming, “You don’t know who I am?!”

Wei WuXian mused, “Why should I know who you are?”

Jin ZiXun, “I don’t remember, which means I don’t remember. I’m not so idle as to go out of my way to remember a Wen-dog’s name.”

Wei WuXian, “Fine. I don’t mind explaining it in greater detail. You couldn’t catch the bat king and happened to run into a few of the Wen Sect’s disciples who were there to investigate the same thing. And so, you threatened them to carry spirit-attraction flags to be your bait. They didn’t dare do it. One person stepped out and tried to reason with you. That’s the Wen Ning I’m talking about. After some delay, the bat king got away. You beat up the Wen cultivators, took them away by force, and the group disappeared. Do I need to say any more details? They still haven’t returned yet. Apart from you, I don’t know who in the world I could possibly ask.”

Jin ZiXun, “Wei WuXian, what do you mean? You came for him? You aren’t standing up for a Wen-dog, are you?”

And Wen Ning later kills both Jin ZiXuan and Jin ZiXun--however, it was not Wen Ning’s fault, but Wei WuXian’s. By trying to become a part of society, by searching for a place in it, you become a monster and a tool, even if not always as literally as it is with Wen Ning. Jin ZiXun is being manipulated by Jin GuangYao to kill Wei WuXian. In the end, Wen Ning uses his genuine connection with Wei WuXian to sacrifice his body to save Jin Ling and Jiang Cheng--the very same Jiang Cheng he just told this:

Sect Leader Jiang—you, so driven of a person, have been comparing yourself to others your whole life, but you have to know that you never should’ve been able to equal [Wei WuXian]!

Essentially, Wen Ning, having been someone at first looked down on for not being strong enough, and then shamed for being a Wen, and then regarded as a dangerous weapon, is telling Jiang Cheng that despite his not being the best in everything, despite how people might look down on him, you are still worth living. 

Wen Ning is able to live, because he’s already dead. But Su She does not, and in true MXTX fashion in which self-sacrifice is often viewed as a form of self-harm, Su She’s sacrifice is ultimately futile. Jin GuangYao is stabbed killed later that very chapter. 

However, it is fitting that this theme which has continued throughout the novel reaches its conclusion with Jin GuangYao. If there’s one character who embodies what it’s like to scrabble for society’s approval as a remedy for insecurity and self-loathing, it’s Jin GuangYao. As this incident shows:

On the other hand, Jin GuangShan, standing with a blank face where his seat was, finally lost his temper and kicked over the table in front of him. All of the gold dishes and silver platters rolled down the stairs.

Seeing his discomposure, Jin GuangYao wanted to ease the situation, starting, “Fa-”

Before he could finish, Jin GuangShan had already left. Jin ZiXun also felt that by giving in, he lost face in front of everyone. Out of both anger and hatred, he wanted to leave as well.

Jin GuangYao hurried, “ZiXun!”

Jin ZiXun was at the peak of his anger. Without a second thought, he flung away the cup of liquor that was turned down, directly towards Jin GuangYao’s chest. A splash of liquor immediately sprouted on top of the Sparks Amidst Snow blooming passionately over the white robes. It was more than embarrassing, but because of how chaotic the state of the hall was, nobody really minded the act of great misconduct.

Lan XiChen was the only one who exclaimed, “Brother!”

Jin GuangYao, “I’m fine, I’m fine. Brother, please be seated.”

It was unsuitable for Lan XiChen to comment on Jin ZiXun, so he took out a snow-colored handkerchief and passed it to him, “Go retire and change your clothes.”

Jin GuangYao took the handkerchief, wiping away as he forced a smile, “I can’t leave, can I?”

He was the only one left to clean up the mess. How could he leave the scene? He reassured the crowd as he ranted, completely exhausted, “Young Master Wei really is too impulsive. How could he speak in such a way in front of so many sects?”

Lan WangJi spoke coldly, “Was he wrong?”

Jin GuangYao paused almost unnoticeably. He immediately laughed, “Haha. Yes, he’s right. But it’s because he’s right that he can’t say it in front of them, correct?”

Here he is ignored by his father, insulted and humiliated publicly by his cousin, and left to clean the mess up. He refuses to retire and clean himself up like Lan XiChen asks him to do (a call-back to Lan WangJi asking Wei WuXian to come back to the Cloud Recesses with him). He knows that he’s saying something wrong, he knows that Wei WuXian is morally right, he knows society is a trap that eschews truth, but he cannot bring himself to pull away from it for the sake of seeking acceptance from his father, acceptance which will never come.

And in the end, Jin GuangYao too realizes that his need for societal acceptance led nowhere, that it wasn’t really what he wanted:

“Lan XiChen! In this life, I’ve lied countless times, killed countless times. Like you said, I killed my father, my brother, my wife, my son, my teacher, my friend—of all the evil in the world, what haven’t I done?!”

He took in a breath, rasping, “But I’ve never even thought of harming you!”

Lan XiChen was astonished.

Jin GuangYao panted harder, gripping the word as he spoke through clenched teeth, “… Back then, when the Cloud Recesses was burned down and you fled outside, who was the one that saved you from all the danger? And when the GusuLan Sect was rebuilding the Cloud Recesses, who was the one that helped with everything he had? In all these years, when have I ever cracked down on the GusuLan Sect, when have I responded with anything but support?! Apart from this time, when I’ve only temporarily staunched your spiritual powers, when have I ever wronged you or your sect? Why have I ever demanded gratitude?!”

Hearing these questions, Lan XiChen could no longer persuade himself to silence him again. Jin GuangYao, “Su MinShan could repay me in such a way just because I remembered his name back then. You, on the other hand, ZeWu-Jun, Sect Leader Lan, are as intolerant of me as Nie MingJue—you refuse to spare me even a single breath of life!”

In the end, however, Jin GuangYao uses his last gasp of strength to save Lan XiChen’s life, pushing him away from death. What mattered to Jin GuangYao in the very end was not societal approval (he’d lost that beyond belief), but his own desire to live, and even more than that, even when that was taken from him, his genuine human connection to Lan XiChen. Even if Lan XiChen is just like Nie MingJue in condemning him (he’s not, and Jin GuangYao has to know that), his connection is real. And that connection is valuable enough to him to throw off comfort in his moment of death to save the other.

It’s also fitting that Lan WangJi and Wei WuXian then leave the cultivational world together, pursuing their marriage and connection as cultivation partners away from society. However, they return in the end not because they want to be a part of that world, but because they have connections to people who need them: Lan SiZhui, Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng, and Lan XiChen.

[murasaki-murasame]

Thoughts on Fruits Basket 2019 Episode 19: “I’m So Sorry!”

You know, considering how apprehensive I was going into this episode since I knew what it was going to cover, I gotta give them credit for how by the end of it I actually really liked the little things they did to flesh out this part of the story, even if they only had so much time to work with.

I think this is gonna be a divisive episode for a lot of reasons, including the fact that some manga fans might not like that they toned down the comedy [relatively speaking] and fleshed out the character interactions more, but one way or another I think they did a nice job with it.

Anyway, thoughts under the cut [and spoiler warning for the whole manga]

I didn’t expect this episode to give me a whole lot to talk about [in terms of positive stuff, at least] since Ritsu’s intro arc was always kinda short and simple, but they actually made a fair amount of edits to how the whole episode played out. It’s still the same length and covers the same basic plot beats, but with a different sort of execution compared to the manga.

Specifically this adapts chapters 44 and 45 of the manga, though technically Ritsu first appears at the very end of chapter 43. And there was a fair amount of stuff that was cut or replaced in this episode, mainly the couple of scenes with Yuki and Haru that were there to follow up on what happened in chapter 43. Since that hasn’t happened yet in the anime, obviously it had to be cut. I think we’ll be seeing that whole part of the story happen near the start of season 2 at this point, since they definitely don’t seem to be planning to introduce Rin in this season. So in that sense at least this episode played out similarly to how it did in the 2001 anime [where Ritsu’s intro was in episode 23]. But there was also a lot of stuff changed outside of that, which made this more of an entirely unique version of this part of the story.

Basically most of it boils down to how they edited the whole flow of events to give Mitsuru [and her interactions with Ritsu] way more screen-time and focus, which I think was exactly what this episode needed. In the manga their interaction in this whole part is literally just contained to one page worth of dialogue at the very end, and it only vaguely sets up the idea that they might have stuff in common. And for the record, at least in the manga, that’s also basically the only time they ever interact in the story to begin with. After this I don’t think we ever see them again at all outside of one bonus comic page that, at least in the collector’s edition, is compiled at the back of the final volume along with some other bonus material. Both Mitsuru and Ritsu kinda vanish from the manga after this point, and then right near the end we suddenly get told that they’re dating and it’s all just kinda weird and unexpected.

Maybe it’s just the writer in me who likes nerding out about this kinda stuff, but I thought it was really neat how elegantly they managed to incorporate Mitsuru into how almost all of this episode, and how they used some of the scenes from the manga that they cut as inspiration for the more original scenes here. Like how the scene with Ritsu freaking out about cereal and spilling milk everywhere got replaced with him spilling coffee on Shigure’s manuscript. I also liked how instead of having a scene near the end with Tohru and Ritsu talking in private, we got to see Ritsu and Mitsuru talking about the same sorta stuff.

The other really big change, which lead to how they could more or less cut out that one scene between Tohru and Ritsu, was how they heavily fleshed out the scene with Ritsu about to jump off Shigure’s roof by basically inserting his whole talk with Tohru into it, which I think worked surprisingly well. Some manga fans might dislike how it made the scene less comedy-focused, but I think it worked well. I did think it was kinda unintentionally funny how it reminded me that Tohru keeps finding new and exciting ways to fall off, or nearly fall off, dangerously high places, lmao.

I’ve seen some people say that it felt too over the top and melodramatic in a way that made Tohru feel too much like an unrealistically perfect therapist, but honestly that’s just kinda how this part of the story always felt. Tohru’s whole conversation with Ritsu about the meaning of life and whatnot always felt like the part where Tohru’s place in the story felt the most forced. But with the amount of characters the premise of this series demands introducing, it’s commendable that most of the parts where Tohru basically serves as the Soma family therapist don’t feel this way.

It probably doesn’t help that the reboot shuffled this around in the timeline so that it’s right in the middle of two other arcs about Tohru meeting a new Soma family member. This episode coming immediately after one as good as Kisa’s episode really set it up for failure in a lot of ways, lol. But ultimately I think it was a good idea to move this where they did. It makes sense that they’re trying to rearrange things so that all of the zodiac members except for Kureno and Rin get introduced before the end of season 1, and this is the best place in the season to put this episode. I think it at least works a lot better here than it did in the 2001 anime where it happened literally right before the Kyo arc, right near the end of the season, which was just a really awkward place to put it all around.

In terms of other stuff that got changed/removed from the manga, they cut out a whole bit with Hatori getting called over to bandage Tohru’s hand after Ritsu broke a cup and she ended up getting cut, though honestly I’d kinda forgotten about that whole scene so I didn’t even notice it was gone. And along those same lines, I guess they also cut out the minor detail of Ritsu spraining his ankle on the roof and it having to also get treated by Hatori, since they had Tohru have a much more dramatic fall on the roof instead.

Like I said, basically every single scene with Mitsuru was anime-original since in the manga she only really appeared in that final scene, and even that got fleshed out a fair bit in this episode, so that we actually got to see them becoming friends, and they both had the same sorta monologue to tie everything together. Which did a way better job than the manga ever did at setting up their relationship, lol. It’s still kinda forced, but it’s not the gaping void of nothingness that it was originally.

Another thing they changed, which I didn’t even notice until I checked the manga again afterward, was that Ritsu was wearing his kimono throughout this entire episode, whereas in the manga he switches to wearing a more masculine outfit immediately after Tohru finds out that he’s a guy. It honestly felt so natural to have him just keep wearing the same outfit the whole way through that I didn’t think anything of it.

Which finally gets us to the elephant in the room, the hornet’s nest, the can of worms, the grand king of controversy, that is Ritsu’s crossdressing.

I definitely think it felt a lot better in this version of events specifically because they at least let him still wear his kimono and his feminine hairstyle even after the ““““gender reveal twist”“““ without it being some sorta issue, but ultimately the way it’s handled still feels notably dated, and I definitely think there’s gonna be a lot of entirely new fans who immediately view him as being heavily trans-coded. Since he really is.

I feel like this should be fairly self-explanatory, but just to be completely clear, this isn’t a matter of “wearing feminine clothing must mean you’re a girl”. This is more specifically about how Ritsu’s crossdressing is framed completely differently to how characters like Momiji and Ayame crossdress. They just do it explicitly because they’re carefree and self-confident and don’t care what people think about them, and it’s not a particularly major or defining part of who they are as a character. But with Ritsu, it ultimately ends up being one of his defining points as a character if only because this is basically all we ever see of him, and the story goes to pretty great lengths to detail how his motivations for cross-dressing come from an entirely different sort of place. Instead of him doing it because he’s naturally confident enough to not care about societal judgment, he does it because it’s the only thing that *makes him* feel confident in himself at all. It’s shown as being pretty much the one and only thing that alleviates his crippling self-hatred. In particular I think the flashback to him trying on one of Kagura’s dresses as a child and having a moment of realization and euphoria really feels like a distinctly Trans Experience [tm] kinda thing. Not to mention the other flashbacks to how he felt ashamed of himself because his parents were constantly apologizing to other people because of how he is, which comes across even more strongly as being specifically tied to his gender expression since at least in the anime, he’s also wearing a dress in that flashback.

It’s also worth noting that in the manga they placed a fair bit of emphasis, especially in his big talk with Tohru, about how he basically ‘wants to pull himself together and stop needing to dress like a woman’, as if it’s some sort of emotional crutch he needs to move on from, and it seems like that basically got cut out. Which is for the better, I’d say. I’ve said before in relation to Momiji that I also disliked there how [in the long run] his own crossdressing is treated as something temporary that he’ll inevitably move on from, and it stuck out even more in the manga when we also got this whole part later which even more explicitly framed cross-dressing as a ‘phase’ that someone needed to move on from. I guess in a lot of ways it really says a lot about the subtly yet meaningfully different way Ritsu’s framed in the reboot, that he just continues wearing his kimono throughout the whole episode and nobody really talks about it after Tohru finds out he’s a guy. I much prefer this more neutral framing of ‘this is just how he dresses and that’s cool’ more than ‘this is something he needs to stop doing in order to grow up’.

It all still feels a little bit outdated even in this version of the story, but I think it would have been even more noticeably outdated and uncomfortable if they had kept all of that stuff from the manga too. So I’m glad they cut it out. They did technically add an original bit near the end with Mitsuru realizing that Ritsu isn’t actually a woman, but I think that was handled perfectly well. Her reaction was basically just ‘oh I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made assumptions like that’, and him freaking out about it was basically just treated as him getting unnecessarily apologetic for something that isn’t a problem at all. Interestingly enough, I think that little scene between them was at least vaguely inspired by that aforementioned bonus comic page about them.

It’s obvious that it’s not like the reboot’s gonna retcon it so that he’s trans now, but I much prefer this take on his crossdressing compared to the manga.

I’m kinda curious to see if they’re going to do more with him as a character after this in the reboot, since Takaya’s said before that his lack of screen-time and importance is one of her big regrets. Though it’s honestly kinda hard to think of where they could even fit him in, aside from maybe the summer vacation arc. Ultimately he kinda suffers from not really being connected to any of the other zodiac characters, which makes him the odd one out who’s difficult to insert into scenes. I think they could probably at least do something with his apparent friendship with Kagura, though, since that never really got elaborated on in the manga.

I’ve always wondered if him getting sidelined after his intro arc in the manga had anything to do with the fact that his arc was the exact point where Takaya’s hand injury caused the series to go on hiatus. It’s not like we’ll ever know one way or another, but I wonder if the fact that his introduction happened to coincide with such a stressful and draining part of her life made her want to basically ignore him as a character afterward to try and forget about all of that. But who knows.

I do have a feeling that the fact that they edited and fleshed out this episode a fair bit compared to the manga might be because Takaya wasn’t happy with what she did with this arc originally, which probably had a lot to do with her hand issues. It might have lead to her not being able to put as much care and thought into this arc in the manga as she would have liked, so she might have even given the anime staff some pointers on how she wanted it to be improved.

Anyway, that’s a lot more than I expected to say about this episode, lmao. All in all I liked it way more than I expected, and I hope they can find some sorta way to give Ritsu more screen-time than he got in the manga.

And as we basically all knew would happen, it looks like next week’s episode will be Hiro’s introduction. I’m kinda curious to see how that goes, since Hiro’s the sorta character who I think is well written for who he’s meant to be, but it doesn’t stop me from kinda hating him as a person, lmao. At least to the extent that you can hate a preteen kid for being annoying and bratty.

[fourohfourrealitynotfound]

Trust Fall

An original short story inspired by Imagine Dragons’s “The Fall”

When someone turns 25, they get a tattoo of their soulmate’s name.

This story explores the thoughts of Ollie and Lou on the night before Lou’s 25th birthday.

Read it on Wattpad or below the cut.

On that particular evening, they were watching TV together in the living room. The lights were off, causing the room to be illuminated to match the show’s current scene. Ollie, curled up in a blanket on one corner of the sofa, was completely engrossed with the program. Meanwhile, Lou was lounging with her feet by Ollie and her head resting on the opposite sofa arm.

The arm draped somewhat dramatically across her face combined with her frequent fidgeting led Ollie to believe that Lou wasn’t entirely focused on the show. “Penny for your thoughts?” they asked her, after turning the volume down a touch.

”It’s nothing,” Lou grumbled rather unconvincingly. She undid her ponytail to fluff and toss around her hair for a moment. The gesture was a nervous tick that Ollie recognized from three years of living with their best friend.

Lou was, in fact, quite nervous. In just a few hours, she would be 25. She didn’t normally concern herself with her birthday, but this year was destined to be different.

In this world, my dear reader, 25th birthdays are special. Most people have a special tattoo of their soulmate’s name appear on their skin at the midnight beginning their birthday. The soulmates do not always meet or end up in a romantic relationship, but that is the societal expectation.

I’m sure you can imagine how Lou, a closeted aromantic, would be concerned about the prospect of a soulmate. Her lack of romantic attraction created a lack of interest in a romantic relationship. In her mind, this could not possibly turn out well.

One possibility was that there would be no tattoo. This would relieve the pressure of possibly having to find and introduce a new person to her life with society’s ever-present expectations, but it would also make her a social outcast. Lou has read one too many stories about people without tattoos experiencing prejudice for being soulmateless.

Lou was even more afraid of having a soulmate. What if they wanted a romantic relationship? What if they weren’t understanding of her orientation? Any number of things could go horribly wrong with this new person in her life. Even worse, what if it was someone she already knew? Lou realized that she was in no way emotionally prepared to come out as aro to someone, a stranger or otherwise, in less than 24 hours.

She knew she shouldn’t worry. Soulmates were designed for each other, after all. Her soulmate couldn’t hate her or be incompatible on the basis that they were her soulmate. Or at least, that’s the way she hoped it worked.

”Hey, Ollie?” Lou said to catch their attention. Even though Ollie hadn’t yet found their soulmate, they were bound to know whether or not your soulmate couldn’t possibly hate you. At the same time, they started to say her name. The pair laughed for a moment, before Ollie motioned for Lou to continue. “Do you know if it’s possible for your soulmate to be . . . incompatible with you?”

Ollie frowned as pity for their friend washed over them. “Oh, Lou. You don’t have to worry.” Their expression turned into a somewhat forced yet reassuring smile. “There’s a reason they’re called ‘soulmates,’ ya know? I’m sure your soulmate will find you positively perfect.”

”I’m just . . .” Lou broke their eye contact to pick at her fingernails. “I’m worried that we won’t, like, want the same things.”

”I’m sure that you’ll work it out.” Lou didn’t look back up, and Ollie could tell that she was slipping into her thoughts again. “Hey, look at me.” They waited until she did. Everything is going to be ok. Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to. It’s your life and you get to choose how you live it.”

Lou didn’t look entirely convinced, but she at least tried to put a smile on her face to disguise her misty eyes. “Thanks, Ollie. It means a lot to me that you’ve stayed here instead of looking for your own soulmate.”

”Don’t mention it. You’re the only best friend I’ve ever known, and I don’t intend on loosing you, ever.”

They turned their eyes back to the TV, but this time Lou has much lighter thoughts. Ollie was right; her life didn’t have to change because of some ink on her skin. For the first time, she was ready for her 25th birthday.

Ollie, on the other hand, began to doubt their own reassurances. Their eyes were drawn away from the TV and down to the long sleeve that covered their right arm. After glancing to make sure Lou wasn’t looking any angling their body away from her, they slipped up the sleeve to reveal the tattoo. In bold calligraphy font were the letters L-O-U. Ollie traced them with their finger as they worried about everything that could go wrong.

What if Ollie wasn’t Lou’s soulmate? Obviously Ollie would be happy if she was happy, but they didn’t want Lou to drift away because of someone else. What if Ollie was Lou’s soulmate, but she wanted something more? They liked the relationship they had with Lou now: they were two best friends against the world, for better or for worse. Ollie hoped that nothing could change, but they’d be lying if they claimed to never doubt it.

They felt guilty about keeping this secret from Lou and leading her to believe that he was destined to be with someone else. Ollie only had the best of intentions; they wanted Lou to not be concerned with the name that would appear on her 25th birthday. She did end up concerned about the name, but not because she was worried about it not being Ollie. She was worried like any other person would be worried on their 25th birthday. Ollie may have been guilty about keeping secrets, but they were happy that her emotions had been spared.

What about their emotions, though? Ollie was now the one worrying about what Lou’s ink would say. They had to stay strong and listen to their own advice: everything would be ok, because soulmates are soulmates. If Ollie was Lou’s soulmate, then they’d work it out. If they wasn’t her soulmate, then presumably the pair would remain friends because Lou was Ollie’s soulmate.

Everything would be ok. In just a few hours, Ollie could tell Lou their secret and move on with their lives as friends.

Or at least, that’s what Ollie told themself to feel better. Did it work? Not entirely. Then again, neither did their kind words to Lou.

Ollie could tell she was still worried by the incessant pacing at 11 PM, after they had both gone to bed early. They had to resist the urge to go to her room next door to drop her from wearing a circle in the carpet. They could repeat their earlier wisdom about nothing changing if she didn’t want it to, and they could gain some reassurance from seeing her face. The only problem with that plan was that they wanted to let Lou be alone with her thoughts when the clock struck 12. Ollie believed that no one should intrude on such a private moment.

So instead of going next door to comfort their friend, Ollie laid down and tried to sleep. Eventually, their eyes began to feel heavy to quiet rustle of Lou’s feet shuffling against the carpet. As they began to drift off, memories of Lou cycled through their brain like a PowerPoint presentation. Ollie smiles and relaxed into the pillow, their earlier words echoing through their mind as a final reassuring whisper. “Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to.”

As Ollie dreamed about Lou and Lou thought about Ollie, one could almost imagine their souls reaching out and twining together, much like the strings of fate. Just as Ollie did in their dreamland, I ask you to follow their thoughts through the wall to Lou.

Unlike the warm, fluffy clouds that filled her friend’s mind, Lou’s brain was a thunderstorm of thought. Ollie’s earlier reassurances were swept away as a newfound whirlwind of doubt ravaged her earlier peace. At 11:45, as suddenly as the whirlwind had appeared, Lou finally seemed to reach the final realization at the eye of the storm: she knew the identity of her soulmate.

Lou was amazed that she hasn’t seen how obvious it was earlier. Whom else could it be but the one who cheered her up when she was sad or helped her feel clarity when all seemed lost? Whom else could it be but the one whom she told all of her secrets (except one) and listened in return? Whom else could it be but the one person she knew would understand her lack of romantic interest, because they had introduced her to the term in the first place?

This person was the only one Lou had ever imagined herself spending the rest of her life with. It only made sense for them to be soulmates. Sure, there were still things she doubted (Why did they not tell her that she was their soulmate? What if she was not their soulmate but they were hers?), but she pushed those thoughts away. They were the only true friend she had ever known. Things were going to work out fine if she just had faith in their friendship.

Lou had so much faith, in fact, that when the clock struck 12 and her shoulder itched with magic, she made a decision that she never before though possible. She made a leap of faith (a trust fall, if you will), and decided to not even look at the new ink on her skin. She burned to confirm her suspicious and gaze at the tattoo, but her desire to wait until she could confront them was even greater.

She went to bed with her shoulder still covered.

As they slept, these two characters grew in their shared uncertainty and conviction. They both were sure that things would turn out ok, but both secretly doubted it. Two troubled souls with interlocking destinies rested only a wall apart; it must have been agony for the ever-watching Fates.

When Lou woke up in the morning, she immediately went to the kitchen to find Ollie. “Hey there,” they said. “Happy birthday.” They offered her a mug of hot chocolate with an outstretched hand.

Instead of accepting, Lou lingered in the doorway. Before Ollie could attempt more awkward smalltalk, she pulled down her shirt collar to reveal the ink on her shoulder.

The world was silent as these two souls, bound by fate, took a leap of faith and fell trustingly towards the uncertain future.

[the-bounce-back]

YOU DESERVE ACCOLADES!

For those of you that don’t know, I’ve finally started my dream job in London after a long time of umming and ahhing. It’s still very early days, but so far everything is going amazingly well - I’m being challenged, I get to work with something I actually care about, and I’m finally being valued as a human being and not being treated like an imbecile despite doing most of the work. Shade definitely intended.

As I’m still getting used to actually enjoying going to work in the morning, I’ve been reflecting a lot on the process I had to get through to even get to this point. I had to get through three phone interviews, trek all the way from Nottingham to London for two separate face-to-face interviews and two one-hour online assessments. The whole recruitment process ended up taking two months.

Two. Whole. Months.

Of course, I was applying for multiple other jobs in the meantime because I’m not a simpleton. I went for a few face-to-face interviews and had loads of phone interviews, whilst secretly hoping that this job would work out. After a while I clocked that I really, really needed it to - because all I was getting from other jobs were endless rejections.

Even the best of us would get disheartened from constantly hearing “no” all the time. I became so immensely riddled with self-doubt and anxiety that I almost withdrew my application, cancelled the whole move to London and was fully prepared to stay at my old job in Nottingham. However - when the momentary madness subsided - I realised that if I really and truly wanted this job, I’d have to change my whole outlook and approach. So I did, and… it worked. Obviously.  I want to share how I changed my thinking so hopefully someone else can be blessed like this, too!

I want to make clear that although I used these thought processes for the sake of acing my interview, it can definitely be applied to improving self-confidence in general, giving yourself constructive criticism and - most importantly - giving yourself the accolades you know you deserve. I think taking the following points into consideration will aid you in quickly nipping insecurities in the bud when they rear their ugly ass heads.

1. Force yourself to speak highly of yourself.

I feel like a lot of us - especially women - have been taught from a very young age to remain humble and modest, and that coming across as arrogant is immensely undesirable and considered almost rude. In theory, I agree with this - knowing when the appropriate time to speak up on your selling points is important - but I also think that these teachings have been blown out of proportion.

The unfortunate truth is that modern society literally feeds on our insecurities like leeches, and this has arguably resulted in a stigmatisation of people that display high amounts of self-confidence. We’ve all probably at some point in our lives looked at someone that shamelessly promotes themselves and been… offended, for lack of a better word. I can definitely admit that I’ve felt almost annoyed at people in the past, when they’ve entered my timeline with their businesses, creative side hustles, achievements etc. Definitely had the nerve to mutter “who the hell do you think you are?!” in disgust to myself.

Stop doing this.

As if they had a slightest ounce of interest in the negative opinions I had about the successes of the projects they had been grinding so hard for. How cute (pathetic).

I genuinely feel ashamed of myself for thinking like this now, but at least I have forced myself to start unlearning this kind of behaviour. Because if someone is genuinely confident in what they are doing, who am I to come and criticise them? Jealousy and bitterness are even worse traits than arrogance anyway, in my opinion - and confident people really couldn’t care less about what jealous people think of them putting themselves out there. Furthermore, people that allow themselves to be constrained by societal expectations regarding humility and modesty definitely end up blocking a lot of their own blessings...so I decided to join the winning team, and you should too.

If you have ever been to a standard job interview, you know that they will almost definitely ask you what your biggest strength and weakness is. I know for a fact that my biggest strength in my field is that I am exceptional at building a rapport with potential clients and maintaining positive professional relationships, and I was always praised for this at my old job. But since I was still figuring out the fine line between self-confidence and arrogance at the time, I found myself being extremely tentative in job interviews, starting sentences like:

“I think that I’m good at…”

“I could use some improvement, but I think I’m ok at…”

“I’m alright at…”

Disgusting and sauceless. No wonder I wasn’t hearing and good news back, to be honest - I feel that recruiters can smell insecurities from a mile away.

Luckily, by the time I got around to doing face-to-face interviews for this job I had already clocked that I was underselling myself, and made a conscious effort to not list my strengths following words like “I think”. Instead, I forced myself to start sentences with:

“I am exceptionally good at…”

“I definitely excel at…”

“I am very confident that I can…”

After each interview during the process - when the recruiter would call me and recap the interview and how I did - I always got the feedback that they were impressed with my assertiveness and self confidence (even if I did end up blurting out “not to be arrogant, but yeah” after most questions. Old habits die hard, I guess).

The bottom line is: you have to remove the fear of believing in yourself 100%. Because if you don’t, who else will?

2. Big up your achievements instead of focusing on your L’s.

If I had a penny for every time I cussed myself out for being 2% away from a distinction on my Masters degree, I’d literally not even have had to apply for this job. I’d be retired on a yacht somewhere in the Caribbean, laughing at all my broke friends having to work for a living. It still annoys me to this day, because I know exactly what I could’ve done to boost my final grade in the subject that dragged my GPA down. Internally kicks self.

However - I really could’ve used all this energy to instead focus on that I have two whole degrees. I slaved for four consecutive years and made it through alive and with (most of) my sanity intact. Plus, on top of that, I was fighting a lot of internal battles and issues, that very nearly pushed me to the point of dropping out.

But I didn’t. Because I’m a Boss Ass B*tch™.

I truly believe that many people would have folded if they had to go through the same things I was dealing with at the time, and reflecting on how resilient and strong I was when I was still going through it definitely makes those pesky 2% off my final grade seem insignificant - and this is exactly how you should regard your achievements in life.

Your achievements obviously don’t have to be academic; I’m just one of those people that likes to measure my success through receipts and certificates. The deal here is to truly reflect on everything you’ve done in life, and celebrate any and all obstacles you’ve overcome - and learn to do so without feeling that you’re coming across as arrogant. Because if you know that what you’re giving yourself praise for is true and you can back it up, you’re really just being confident in yourself and there is nothing wrong with that.

If you’re struggling to think of achievements, they can literally be anything - regardless of how small they may seem to you. Consider different aspects of your personal life that mean a lot to you - e.g. fitness, a hobby, your friends/family, your mental health - and try to break them down into different goals that you have reached, or are very close to reaching. For each achieved goal you can think of, give yourself an accolade.

Managed to improve your 5k running time? Accolade.

Finally got the promotion? Accolade.

Saved enough money to buy yourself something you’ve wanted for a long time? Accolade.

Overcome a mental health issue? Accolade.

Given birth to a healthy baby? Infinite accolades because...wow.

As previously said, it can be anything - it doesn’t necessarily have to be something that you can big up in a job interview. As long as reflecting on it fills you with pride and gives you a rightfully earned ego-boost, it counts. The goal is to become so (healthily) obsessed with celebrating your achievements and pushing yourself to do better, that you stop beating yourself up over mistakes and failures that you can’t do anything about and that are holding you back from appreciating your abilities.

In terms of job hunting, I often made the mistake of drawing the attention to that I was sOoOo close to getting a distinction, which might have affected my chances at getting other jobs. I don’t know why it always ended up coming up - I think I was subconsciously worried that I’d be labelled a fraud if they ended up hiring me based on my degree and later found out that I was *gasp* 2% off. But when I applied for this job, I made the conscious effort to place the focus on that I have two degrees, and on the knowledge that I got from them. I think that when they heard how mindblowingly intelligent I am, the grade didn’t even matter!

Finally, if you’re anything like me, your L’s usually aren’t even that big of a deal at the end of the day. No one gives as much thought to your mistakes as yourself - the severity of the mistake is almost always unnecessarily amplified in your head, usually because you’re obsessing over how you could’ve done things differently to avoid it. Once you let go of this obsession, and just learn to accept that what has happened has happened, I think it will be a lot easier to focus on the positives.

3. Acknowledge your areas of improvement.

Notice how I prefer to use the term “areas of improvement” as opposed to “weaknesses”. The word “weakness”, to me, means that there is something inherently wrong with someone that cannot be improved upon or changed - which is rarely ever the case.

As earlier discussed, anyone who has ever been to a job interview (like, ever) will know that the interviewer is guaranteed to ask what your biggest strength and biggest weakness is. If you’re anything like me - extremely self-critical and almost painfully self-aware - thinking of a “weakness” is probably quite easy, because chances are you’re thinking about them every day and trying your best to not let them get the best of you.

I have a method to deal with these areas of improvement that has greatly benefitted me in my private life, but I am also convinced that this approach is one of the main reasons why I ended up getting this new job. Hopefully you can use it for your self-improvement, too!

Basically, I start off by acknowledging the area of improvement. I’ll use the ones I brought up in my interview: the anxiety I get when doing presentations in front of industry/topic experts, as well as struggling to know when I should take a break from solving a problem.

When I say I’d rather die than do a presentation to senior management or take a break when I feel like I’m close to resolving an issue, people think I’m exaggerating. I really am not.

However - instead of simply stating that I’d rather perish than do these things - I took the time to consider where these feelings stem from. I definitely think that I suffer from impostor syndrome - meaning that I have this constant internalised feeling that I’ll be exposed as an impostor or fraud. Namely in an environment where I’m surrounded by experts that can smell bullsh*t from a mile away. Furthermore, I know that I become obsessed with minor details during projects and find it hard to tear away from it because I’m worried that I’ll lose my train of thought - when really, what I actually need is a break in order to come back to the project later with a fresh mind.

After finding out the root cause of the area of improvement comes what I consider the most important part: solutions to eliminate this area of improvement. For me, I was able to state that my fear of public speaking can be combated by preparing presentations long in advance and ensuring that I am extremely confident and knowledgeable of the material I am presenting. For my inability to tear myself away from work that I’m stuck on, I said that I am working on not being so hard on myself and allowing myself to take breaks to refresh my mind.

Of course, this process - acknowledging the issue → understanding the root of the issue → finding solutions to the issue  - can be applied to a lot of different instances in life. However, I feel that it is especially helpful in terms of self confidence and putting your best foot forward in a job interview scenario, mainly because it gives you an advantage over other interviewees: proof that you are a problem-solver.

See it this way - yes, being able to provide a few “weaknesses” shows that you are self-critical and self-aware, but also explaining on how you plan to overcome these weaknesses in the same breath? 

Whew. Amazing. The future CEO jumped out.

4. Make use of constructive criticism.

Although self-celebration and self-confidence starts with you, having supportive people on the same wavelength as you that genuinely want you to win comes as a close second place in terms of the most important things to have in your life. Regardless of if they are family or close friends, having people that see your drive, passion and hard work is extremely important - because it is these people that will be brutally honest with you and give you well needed kicks in the right direction on your off days.

Again, this really applies to anything you venture into, whether it’s a creative side hustle, hobby, new job, music, your own business...you get the point. Of course, whilst the praise and positivity is important as well, having those people that will tell you straight up when you need to do better for the sole purpose of them wanting to see you succeed is crucial - even when it’s hard to hear sometimes.

This blog is actually a perfect example - I always send the link to my friends + other people who I know will be honest with me in terms of feedback as soon as I post it, because I trust that what I hear back will be things that I can improve upon for future posts - and this is because I know they know how important this blog is to me. In terms of getting the job, my parents and a close friend of mine helped me with polishing my cv to perfection (mainly by telling me to “stop f*cking waffling about things that aren’t relevant to the role, Olivia!”) - and look where that got me!

To reiterate: surrounding yourself with people that won’t beat around the bush when giving you feedback on what you’re striving to achieve is one of the most important parts of succeeding in this life. Of course, you are capable to do it alone too, but having a support system makes it so much easier to tackle bad days. Usually because they’ll tell you to get your sh*t together and stop the crying.

(Of course, there are unfortunately people that will pretend to want what’s best for you while secretly hoping that you will fail. This is inevitable, especially when you’re doing big things in life. I’ll be doing a blog post about this at some point, but until then...apply sense. More time you know who these people are if you think about it.)

So, in conclusion - forcing yourself to be confident about your strengths, being unapologetically proud of your achievements so far, having an eagerness to improve your weaknesses and surrounding yourself with supportive people that are on the same wavelength as you are all imperative parts of you celebrating yourself and your accomplishments in life. I’ll definitely delve deeper into insecurities revolving around self-promotion at a later stage - but for now, hopefully you can take away some of the tips and apply them to acing an interview, presentation, first date, meeting your significant others’ parents… any situation that calls for a substantial amount of self-assurance and pride in who you are, really.

Good luck, I have confidence in you and you should, too!

Love

Liv

[sailingsoo]

August Overview

Monthly Drama Review: August 2018 Jan - Feb - Mar - Apr - May - Jun - Jul -

warning spoilers!

Completed:

Goodbye to Goodbye: I liked the show a lot in the beginning, but it kind of watered down by the end. I liked the very last episode though, it brought the whole family together. Because of Jung Hyo, I think every character was able to learn a little something. The only thing I wished happened was the writers showing how much Min Soo loved Jung Hyo from the beginning. I mean this man was so ready to break up with her. He was even in the process of dating another woman when Jung Hyo revealed that she was pregnant to him, so it still feels like to me that he only chose to stay with Jung Hyo because of the baby. 

Are You Human Too?: I usually can’t stand dramas that have a robot x human romance so the fact that I actually finished this and thoroughly enjoyed it was quite a surprise. I have always liked Seo Kang Joon, but he really outdid himself with this role. It really felt as if Nam Shin and Nam Shin III were played by different actors. The cinematography was also super amazing, one of the best I have seen! As for the plot itself, like I said I could care less about robot x human romance, but I can’t say I wasn’t hooked on all the politics and craziness happening around Nam Shin’s family. I kind of wish that human Nam Shin had a better redemption arc, you know before his mother passed away, because he really did live a hard life as said in last month’s review. Overall, the drama outdid my expectations and I’m glad I watched it. 

Your House Helper: One of the best dramas I have ever watched. They really just took all the stereotypes and broke them all. I still can’t believe they had an openly gay character too, thank you Korea. I heard people say that the main lead has no chemistry, but I liked it. It was simple and cute, fitting for both of them. Dayoung’s friends and their s/o though! Amazing, give me more characters and relationships like them. All in all, an extremely cute friendship and romantic drama that really allows you to understand societal roles and such. 

Kimi ga Kokoro ni Sumishita: The english subtitles weren’t up, so I finished watching it raw. It was a good short psychological drama. All I wanted was Kyoko to get some help in order to escape Ren’s pull. Ren obviously is suffering from a mental health issue as well, but still seeing Kyoko getting used by him was definitely something. 

Ongoing:

Time: I’ve said it before, but I’m gonna say it again. Seohyun’s acting has improved so much. The whole cast is amazing. I was one of the people who was kind of thrown off by the press conference video, but Kim Jung Hyun’s acting is so great. You can tell he was totally immersed into his character. However, that probably took a toll into his mental health. I’m not that sad about him leaving because its for his health. Also I’m excited to see how Seohyun’s character drives the show alone. 

Your Honor: My favorite airing show right now!  I’m so spoiled, I wasn’t used to having only one episode a week TT  I wish I could just binge watch the whole thing instead of waiting weekly. The chemistry between the two leads are amazing. I can’t wait for the truth to be revealed, but then I also like the pacing of the drama. 

Familiar Wife: Idk man, I’m just waiting till Woo Jin regains her memory and beats Joo Hyuk up for erasing their kids because he wanted to play his video game in peace LOL. But I don’t necessarily think him going back in time and changing the future is an entirely bad thing though. He’s  learning new things about his wife and understanding her more which would never happen if they stayed in the original timeline. It just sucks that it’s just Joo Hyuk is the only one in the relationship experiencing this. It takes two to tango.

Lovely Horribly: This drama is so funny! Song Ji Hyo is a gem. I feel so bad for her character though. Can you imagine living a life like that and everything just goes wrong for you. I can’t wait for the relationship to develop between the main leads. Get Gi Kwang a main role next drama pls. 

Dropped:

Hide & Seek: It didn’t look interesting to me and I feel like I have enough dramas I’m watching. 

Upcoming:

Miss Ma: The synopsis is short but to the point, I think I might like this depending on who is casted for the female lead. 

Room No. 9: The plot and characters of this story seem to be interesting. I am definitely watching this one. 

The Smile Has Left Your Eyes: Definitely checking this one out. I love both Seo In Guk and Jung So Min’s acting skills and the teasers look amazing!

The Third Charm: Okay so I love Seo Kang Joon, but the synopsis itself isn’t captivating enough. 

Devilish Joy: This seems way to angsty for me to handle, but who knows. 

My Only One: I’m kind of tired of financial struggle being the theme of every drama, so probably will not watch. 

The Player: The synopsis isn’t really interesting, but I rarely see the f(x) members doing much anymore with like the exception of probably Amber (give us a comeback SM) so I gotta watch this for Krystal.

The Guest: I probably won’t watch. 

The Beauty Inside: ^^

[whispersandwhiskerburn]

It’s Traditional

Angel’s 2017 Christmas Drabble #10 (Christmas Drabbles List)

Request: @dubuforeveralone said: I love the idea of your Christmas drabbles. :D I think one with the reader trying to share her Christmas traditions with Castiel that she used to have with her family before becoming a hunter, like ice skating and then going to pick out the perfect tree for the holiday. ^_^ Pairing:  Castiel x Reader Word Count: 1,675 Warnings: Some angsty bits, but mostly it’s touching and fluffy. :D Author’s Note: For many people, Christmas is bittersweet. If you’ve lost loved ones, the holidays can be a time where you miss them more than usual. For a hunter, I imagine that would be even more so. With this fic I tried to bring those emotions in realistically and end with some hopeful happiness with my favorite angelic being. Because if Christmas is anything to me, it’s about hope.

Sometimes Castiel’s disconnect from the human world could be a real challenge.

It wasn’t something you were unwilling to face for the sake of the Angel who had done so much for the world, and for you and the Winchesters especially, but it did lead to some awkward conversations.

Some things were funny--watching him learn how to work human electronics, for instance. Some things were adorable--when he tried to match cultural and societal norms when it came to being in a relationship with you (the first time he took you on an actual date would live in your memory long after you were dead and gone from this world). And some things were just painful.

“I don’t really know how to explain Christmas to you, Cass.”

The two of you were in one of the classic cars from the Bunker’s garage, on the way back home from a case you’d worked without the Winchesters. Not exactly the most romantic of getaways, chasing after and stabbing a shapeshifter and demon tag team, but hey--in the hunting life, you took every chance of togetherness you could get.

It was mid-December so all the houses and businesses had decorations out which had prompted a few questions from your angelic lover.

“It’s not really a hunter thing, the holidays.” You tried to keep the bitterness from your voice, but based on the quizzical look in his blue eyes, you hadn’t succeeded.

“What about before you were a hunter? What was Christmas to you then?”

You considered not answering.

It wasn’t something you wanted to talk about.

But you and Castiel had an agreement--complete honesty, as much as possible. He could read your mind, but you couldn’t read his, so it was a policy you insisted on. He’d kept his end of the bargain, so you couldn’t fail on your side now.

Besides, that policy had advantages in the bedroom too, you thought with a small smile.

You kept your eyes on the road, but your mind flashed back as you tried to paint a picture with your words. If you were going to answer Castiel’s question, you were going to do it right.

“What is Christmas? It’s traditional. It’s a time at the end of every year for family, and friends, to get together and celebrate and honor their own traditions.”

You went quiet, not done answering, just not sure where to go next.

“What kind of traditions?” Castiel prompted gently.

“All kinds, I suppose. Every family, every culture, they all celebrate in their own way. And that’s okay, you know? That’s the way that it should be. When I was young we had a couple of traditions that I particularly loved.

“I grew up in a cold area, so December was always filled with snow and ice. My friends and I would always go ice skating the first day of Christmas break--we’d stay out for hours, racing each other, trying to do tricks, falling and goofing off.” You smiled at the memory, and noticed that Cass was smiling too in your periphery.

“My parents always had a tradition of getting a fresh Fraser fir--minimum of seven feet tall--and putting it up the second week of December. It was my job to put the star, or the angel” you giggled, looking at your passenger, “on top, and to water it for the rest of the month. We would all decorate it together, putting lights and handmade ornaments and popcorn strings and candy canes on the limbs. We’d laugh and blare Christmas music and sing along.”

You went quiet again, your voice losing some of the joy as your thoughts turned more serious, “that’s some of the best memories I have of my parents. The two of them smiling, laughing, trading kisses when they thought I wasn’t looking, decorating the tree with me. My dad fixing the bulbs that wouldn’t blink right, my mom helping me tie string or hooks to the ornaments to get them to stay on the smaller branches.

“And that’s the problem, Cass. Christmas is about laughter, and light; traditions and families--all things that the hunter lifestyle… well, all those things get left behind in this job. We see too much darkness to play with twinkle lights.”

You noticed Cass’s frown, but he must have also noticed your tone, and realized that you didn’t want to talk about this subject any more. He was learning to pick up on those type of subtleties more and more these days.

So the two of you drove on past the houses lit up with lights and blow-up Santas, neither of you saying a word as the sun set and the miles drifted by.

You should have expected a conspiracy.

It was rare for the boys to insist you do the grocery runs. Sam was particular about what type of veggies were in the fridge, and Dean always liked to have an excuse to wander by the bakery section of the market in search of pies to bring home.

But they had both suggested you should go instead--at the time, you had believed them of just being lazy procrastinators who honestly didn’t seem to care if the milk was almost sour and that they were almost out of coffee grounds.

Now, though? Now you were walking back into a bunker that was quiet. Far too quiet.

Your instincts were screaming, “trap!”, and if you had been anywhere other than the heavily warded bunker, you’d have let your gun lead the way into the building. Instead, you held your breath, listening through the hallways that carried sound so well, hoping for a clue of what awaited you.

And you got one, strange as it was.

“Christmas, Christmas time is here, time for joy and time for cheer…”

Alvin and the Chipmunks? What the literal Hell?

You strode cautiously down the hall, gripping the grocery bags tightly, then pausing as you reached the doorway of the main room. In the alcove where the giant telescope stood, a giant tree was now blocking it from view. The music was louder here, and just as ridiculous, but not quite as surprising as the colored lights blinking around the room, and the pile of as-yet unstrung decorations littering the normally pristine table, obviously meant for the enormous tree.

Sam and Dean weren’t in sight, but you saw movement in the kitchen and followed it on autopilot, moving in a daze.

Castiel was there, in the kitchen, standing next to the counter that was off-limits to everyone except Dean without his permission, working with string and a giant bowl of popcorn. He was making a popcorn chain.

He looked up, knowing you were there of course, and smiled at whatever look was on your face.

You dropped the bags off on a free bit of table space and walked over to the old-school stereo that Cass had gotten from who-knows-where, turning the music down to a background level.

“Well? What do you think, Y/N?”

You couldn’t really put your thoughts into words yet. You pivoted, looking back at the room in time to see Sam and Dean coming down the hall, carrying candy canes and extension cords, and freezing in their tracks when they spotted you, guilty smiles creeping onto their faces.

You turned back to Cass, walking closer to him. “It’s… I don’t know what to… why?”

Castiel put down his half-strung chain and walked over, pulling you into his arms for a hug. You clung to him a bit, surprised to find yourself shaking a little in shock. This had been the absolute last thing you had expected, this random scene from your childhood, recreated in the space where you all talked about demons and monsters.

Cass leaned back a little, not breaking the embrace but bringing his hands up to frame your face, his thumbs caressing the soft skin over your cheekbones.

“Because you, Y/N, you deserve light and laughter in your life. You make the world a better, safer place every day… and you certainly make mine better every moment.” He smiled, and the water started gathering in your eyes.

“You said Christmas was about traditions with family. Well, we’re family, and we can make our own traditions.” He finished the last on a whisper, his thumbs now wiping away the tears that had slipped out over your eyelids.

“Y/N?”

You couldn’t think of what to say, so you settled for pulling him down, and kissing him with all the emotions that were brimming inside of you. It was an expression of tenderness, gratitude, and love, and Castiel returned it in full measure.

You were starting to really enjoy yourself when you heard one of the Winchesters give a fake cough behind you, reminding the two of you of their presence. You broke off the kiss and threw a look over your shoulder at the two of them, grinning like fools as they held up pieces of decorations.

“You know you have to help us with these, right, Y/N?” Sam was cajoling, apparently out of his depth.

You laughed a little and shook your head, not a “no” but more of a “what is happening right now” kind of way.

Then Dean made the moment even better: “What do you think, Y/N? Star or angel on top?”

You felt Castiel’s chuckle resonate against your chest and you blushed a little, surprised that he would get that innuendo. He was becoming more and more worldly all the time.

“For the tree? Star on top.”

You turned back to Castiel, and gave him a brief kiss, closing your eyes and praying to him at the same time, you, my Angel, will have to wait till tonight to be on top.

Castiel’s arms tightened around you briefly in acknowledgement, then he released you, and you stepped away.

You turned up the Christmas music and went to help Sam as “Jingle Bell Rock” blared through the speakers.

Creating new traditions with your family at Christmas--sometimes, miracles really did happen.

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To my Forevers, the ones who keep me writing:

@2wonderinsighlents, @adaliamalfoy, @alcpegasus22, @andrastesflamingtitties, @angelofwinchester17, @alexastacio, @anokhi07, @ariethegreat98, @atc74, @arryn-nyxx, @autopistaaningunaparte, @avasmommy224, @babypieandwhiskey, @bennyyh, @benjerry707, @boxywrites, @bringmesomepie56, @bucky-thorin-winchester, @but-deans-back-tho, @captainemwinchester, @carry-on-ms-believer, @casownsmyass, @cfordwrites, @dancingalone21, @d-s-winchester, @deafgirlsarecooler, @deandoesthingstome, @deanfuckingwinchesterrr, @deansarms, @deanscherrypie, @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog, @deanwinchesterforpromqueen, @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester, @deliciouslyshadowymilkshake, @demonangelimpala, @demondeansdomme, @end-lessnights, @faith-in-dean, @fandommaniacx, @feelmyroarrrr, @fiveleaf, @gallxntdean, @graceforme86, @i-is-for-inspiring, @ilostmyshoe-79, @impala-dreamer, @jalove-wecallhimdean, @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes, @jencharlan, @jensen-gal, @jotink78, @just-another-busy-fangirl, @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms, @katnharper, @kittenofdoomage, @kristaparadowski, @lipstickandwhiskey, @littlegreenplasticsoldier, @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid, @love-kittykat21, @loreleilara, @lunarsaturn88, @luv4jensen, @lynnebla, @marilynnlew, @millaraysuyai, @mogarukes, @moonstonemystyk, @mrsbatesmotel53, @mrsjohnsmith, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mzpearlz, @nightmaredean, @notnatural-supernatural, @paintrider13-blog, @pinknerdpanda, @plaidstiel-wormstache, @rizlowwritessortof, @roxy-davenport, @salvachester, @seenashwrite, @septicxsoulxdarkxmind, @scorpiongirl1, @skathan-omaha, @spnrvt, @supernatural-jackles, @supernaturalyobsessed, @theafinnerup, @thedevilinthedetails, @thegreatficmaster, @waywardjoy, @wi-deangirl77, @wonderange, @wheresthekillswitch, @withoutaplease, @wonderless-screwup, @xtina2191, @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou, and @yume-deaimashou

[spicysugarcane]

I’ll start by acknowledging the fact that almost all characters in Harry Potter did things wrong. That’s what made them so human, their flaws. The marauders ruthlessly bullied Snape but Snape was a bully as well, he was cold and bitter and cruel.

Though that only developed later on due to the societal pressure of being a Slytherin and the negative stigma that was associated with it. (Because if you were a Slytherin you just had to be an evil slimly blood supremacist got right?) So even if you weren’t any of these things and chances were you won’t BECAUSE THEY WERE 11 WHO IS IT POSSIBLE FOR A 11 YEAR OLD TO BE EVIL!! Even if they were a blood supremacist it was likely just their parents views and any chances of their views changing went out the window as soon as they were sorted in to slytherin as no one would associate with them.

(If their views did change them they would either live a life of pain being hated by their housemates and parents, or it was too late and they were at the bottom of a inferni infested lake taking their last breathes thinking (I should have apologised to Sirius.) or marked with a unmistakable taint of evil wondering (is my father proud of me now?)

Even after years he held a grudge against a dead man, James Potter, and decided to bully a orphaned 11 year old. An 11 years that if I may be so bold to state was obviously abused. He was stick thin, didn’t know anything about the Wizarding world had the self preservation of a pigeon of crack and came all wrapped up in wore old dirty three times his sizes hand me downs. That looked like more rags on him. But Snape ignored all of that and decided to verbally abuse Harry, along with a bunch of other kids. All Gryffindor’s for also no reason except there houses.

Which *cough* *cough* doesn’t that sound really fucking similar to another situation. Not even mentioning the fact that Snape is A ADULT and a blood PROFESSER HE’S A FUCKING TEACHER BULLYING A BUNCH OF KIDS.

So Snape is cruel and petty.

Another thing is that he NEVER LOVED LILY EVANS.

Love is not the same as obsession. Which is what Snape has. If he really loved her, he would be HAPPY for her. Not join a radically racist terrorist group that’s whole foundation is killing ‘muggleborns’, just because she didn’t love him.

James eventually grew up and improved for Lily, becoming a better person. Snape didn’t.

He become a reckless murderer killing people in cold blood, for there blood.

The same blood Lily has, the same blood Lily was discriminated and eventually killed for.

If Snape loved Lily he would never do that. Not to mention the fact that he was basically rejected when Lily was alive, and all the other shit Snape did.

Like stepping over James’s dead body, ignoring Harry’s traumatised crying and hugging Lily’s DEAD BODY. Something he was directly responsible for. He was the one that doomed a child to the fate of dying.

The person the prophecy was referring to was definitely a child. So he obviously had no remorse about a child being killed (cause Voldemort was a asshole, but he was powerful, he wasn’t a dark lord for nothing.) or potentially orphaned.

Not only that but the fuck was he thinking when he asked for Lily to be spared, like did he think he would just step aside and let her child, her only living flesh and blood (that aren’t the Dursley’s who are magic hating muggles) just die.

And what was he expecting to happen after James and Harry were killed.

Lily would be absolutely crushed after having the love of her life die. (Like with Snape when Lily died, just the emotions to a slightly less degree, not anything else as Snilly is not love.)

Lily would never forgive Snape and would do anything it took to defeat Voldemort, eventually dying in the process or committing suicide due to grief.

Snape tried getting Remus fired after Remus was homeless for 16 fucking years and took away the opportunity for him to know Harry better (the only link to his dead best friends), the opportunity to be able to teach about werewolves in a way that doesn’t dehumanise them, portraying them as savage filthy animals incapable of behaving like humans, something inhumane and cruel.

Just like how Remus feels about himself, nothing but a dark creature.

If Remus has taught and had staying teaching maybe with time he could have even come to accept himself.

Snape could have most likely known about Sirius not being a death eater and that Peter was very much alive and a death eater, as he was one himself (only stopping cause Lily was in danger, not because he thought killing and torturing humans that were helpless and had no means of defending themselves was wrong.)

But instead of confessing or even saying something, he let someone he KNEW was innocent rot in jail for 12 fucking years. All because of a childhood grudge.

Not even gonna start on the fact that Neville’s parents were tortured to death, but he was scared of fucking Snape, a bloody teacher, someone that was supposed to create a safe and protective environment for students. Like how Hogworts could have been like for him. Instead he just continued on with the toxic cycle of abuse and fear, inside of a bloody school. Cause he grew up like that.

So yeah, Snape’s a fucking dick.

Just because a bad person does something good, doesn’t make them a good person.

Just like how a good person, doing something bad doesn’t make them bad.

That’s the end, of my argument I wrote this at like 2am and I hate Snape, so yeah.

Fuck Snape that bastard.

And fuck the marauders for essentially sexually assaulting Snape in front of 30 or more people just cause he was a Slytherin.

And fuck Lily for not realising that obviously Snape didn’t mean to call her a Mudblood (though he did hold other muggleborns as lesser in his views just not Lily.) and leaving Snape all by himself right after he was just assaulted and humiliated.

And honestly Lily should have broke it of sooner, (not cause he was a Slytherin) but because of his obvious dislike towards anyone lesser than him. Lily should have also tried harder to defend Snape from the marauders and not blamed him when he stuck up for himself.

That’s the end of my rant, peace out ✌️

- jesika rawal (new and improved)