#it is a truth universally acknowledged that this show is going to drive me out of my mind

[ineffable-suffering]

The Jane Austen Ball and why it was never about Nina and Maggie

Otherwise known as (*takes a deep breath*): A completely inflated close-up look at various dialogues and events of Season 2 that prove that the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Meeting Cotillion Ball was supposed to be Aziraphale's confession to Crowley

Look, the point's been made before but that's never kept me from making it myself again, still. In fact, even I made it before, at the end of one of my other metas. But I feel like it's absolutely worthy enough to get its own soppy, way-too-long post. And I do love it so very much to write ridiculously long essays on something that could easily be condensed into a short paragraph.

So, here we go! Snuggle up, get cozy, settle in and, most importantly:

(Word count: 3.177 | Reading time: ~13 minutes)

As I already said above, I laid out a similar case in my meta about why Aziraphale is somewhat of an unreliable narrator. I'll try and recycle it here briefly, so I can further make my point.

When Aziraphale arrives back in London from his Edinburgh journey, he seems oddly happy and giddy for the fact that he just had a rather odd and threatening encounter with Shax. I explain in my other meta that this is because he just spent the last hours of his drive reminiscing on the thrilling and romantic magic show adventure of 1941 and also the fact that he just found out that Crowley has been replaced by Shax and no longer works for Hell.

Ergo: We have a hopelessly lovesick Principality at our hands, who's practically swooning over his serpent who saved him, his books and his magic show all those years ago.

Ergo:

✨This✨

Realistically, Aziraphale should probably be a tad worried about the eery encounter with Shax, in which she definitely had the upper hand on him. But well, if you spend many-a hours driving across the serene countryside (Edinburgh is about an 8-hour drive from London), pondering on one of the craziest, sticky-sweet romantic adventures of your not-life life, well ... things tend to turn a little rosy around the edges. Head in the clouds and all that. Light shades of grey!

Alright, onwards: Once the angel, filled to the very brim with fond memories and butterflies, gets out of the Bentley, he's kindly met with a face full of verdant plants and a very in-character-grumpy Crowley.

Fhwack! Way to burst the rosy bubble.

Seriously, the absolute lightning speed with which Crowley storms out to vacate the bookshop the very second Aziraphale arrives makes me giggle every time.

Let's make a first small (who am I kidding) diversion into analysing the following conversation in unnecessary detail ...

... simply because I enjoy quoting dialogue as an accurate reference in my metas. I'll also highlight certain passages I want to comment on in individual colours so I can back up my thoughts with them below. Alright, their little chinwag goes as follows:

Crowley: "They you are! I was worried something might have happened to you." Aziraphale: "No, nothing happened to me. Very uneventful journey indeed. No strange things at all." Crowley: "Good. That's what we wanna hear." Aziraphale: "Um .. everything okay with- ah.." *nods to the bookshop* Crowley: "Oh, yeah, fine. He's singing to himself. I think he must have been asleep. I heard snoring coming from his bedroom–" Crowley, to the Bentley: "Did you miss me? I bet you did." Aziraphale: "... I'm sure it did." Crowley: "So, any more clues from the mystery of the missing archangel?" Aziraphale: "Not exactly. Or, if there are, I haven't yet cracked the case. But I'm certainly hot on the trail of something." Crowley: "I'm sure you are. Oh, by the way, the whole sudden rain and awning thing was a complete washout." Aziraphale: "Sorry?" Crowley: "You know, project making Nina fall in love with Maggie. I failed, it's your go." Aziraphale: "I see. Well then, Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Monthly Meeting, here we come!" Crowley: "You're really hosting the meeting?" Aziraphale: "Absolutely! And I can guarantee you, it will be a night to remember."

At first glance, this has little to do with the plot of this meta but actually, it folds into my point very nicely! However, it's not time for that yet, so we'll just state the facts as they are for now and then bring them back 'round later when we need them. That being said: For the love of Someone, will these two ever manage to simply tell each other the truth of what happened instead of thinking they can protect each other by lying about it all the time? Hrmpf. As a big fan of open communication myself, I'm close to developing a stomach ulcer with the amount of false truths being spewed here. (Then again – and yes, that is another, way larger meta I'm currently cooking up – it plays so very perfectly into the whole Jane-Austen-Pride-and-Prejudice tragic miscommunication theme that this entire Season has, so I understand the point of it.)

Very uneventful journey indeed, Aziraphale, except for the fact that you were ambushed by a demon who told you she was Crowley's successor, knows about the rumors of the two of you being an item as well as what went down in 1941 (that almost had both of you exposed) and also seems to have figured out where you and your demon boyfriend are hiding Gabriel, all in the span of about a minute. No strange things at all, nooo!

And Crowley's "Oh yeah, fine" is a total lie too. Again, we see him make an absolute run for it before Aziraphale can even enter the bookshop. After all, he just once again witnessed Jim have a Gabriel-flashback, speaking of the Second Coming, while Crowley was alone with him. As fumingly angry he is with the amnesiac archangel – he's also absolutely terrified of what might happen (to him and Aziraphale) should Jim regain his memories. So, no wonder he's quick to vacate the premises after witnessing Jim's rather eery memory flashback (and was, just like Aziraphale, threatened by Shax mere moments later, lol).

But no, nothing out of the ordinary happened to either of them. Tip-top. Absolutely tickety-fucking-boo.

Alright, let's get back on track with the actual topic of this meta. Certainly hot on the trail of something, hm? At first glance, it might seem like Aziraphale is talking about the fact that Gabriel was in company of someone whenever he went to the Resurrectionist Pub. (The clue!) However, I don't actually think he is talking about that. Why? Because, and this slipped my mind too at first, he never actually follows any of this information up, does he? Yes, sure, he went to Edinburgh, found the capital-c Clue and then returned to London. But what does he do with it? Nothing. He doesn't keep investigating this hot trail because that's not the important thing he realized during his journey. No, the more important clue Aziraphale found during his trip, is that Crowley no longer works for Hell and that he is also very much irrevocably in love with him and must confess this at the earliest given chance. (The latter part isn't necessarily a new discovery for Aziraphale, but it surely is fuelled by the fact that he just realized Crowley's out of a Hellish job and simply hasn't told him yet.)

This exchange just the perfect indicator for the fact that Aziraphale, at no point during his drive back, was thinking about the Maggie and Nina mission. He has no idea what Crowley is talking about once he mentions it and seems surprised, even, that he would. Even though they just talked about it on the phone when Aziraphale was still at the graveyard. Which is another important piece of evidence because it means that the last status update Aziraphale got of Mission Lovebirds, was that Crowley had sensed an opportunity to make them fall in love – and had then hung up on him. Why is this important? Because it means that until that very point of their conversation, Aziraphale did not know that Crowley's attempt had failed! There would have been just as much of a chance of Crowley's weather miracle actually working out and Maggie and Nina already having skipped into the sunset happily ever after.

So, riddle me this:

Why would Aziraphale spend the entire ride back from Edinburgh plotting "a night to remember" (because clearly, he already had the entire Ball planned out down to a T in his head since he goes into action right away after arriving) if he didn't even know yet that Crowley's attempt had failed?

To be very clear here: We're not talking about Aziraphale driving on the M1 to London, having a silly little idea for putting on some good music, miracle-ing Nina and Maggie to dance to it and watch them confess their love–

No.

He planned an entire actual Cotillion Ball with very particular location design that involves re-arranging the entire bookshop, specifically designed individual outfits for (almost) every single attendee, topped off with a live band, hors-d'œuvre, drinks and an actual choreographed group dance.

During one car ride.

Where's the party planner Aziraphale AU? I'm waiting!

Now, sure, we know that it's still quite important for Aziraphale to convince Heaven of the faux-reason they gave for their accidental ✨25-Lazarii miracle✨. But if we're all honest, this all seems to be a tad much just to make two random humans fall in love, even for that.

Glittery ball gowns and suits? Red and gold wall curtains? A modified language filter? Bloody vol-au-vents?

Talk about over the top ...

Once we start S2E5, Crowley is still surprised at the mere fact that Aziraphale is actually planning to organize the Monthly Meeting – and he doesn't even know yet that it's gonna be the most extravagant ball-boogaloo that the Whickber Street Community has ever seen! Aziraphale wanting to organize the meeting alone, is enough to render Crowley incredulous, because Aziraphale never mingles with the other shopkeepers. He usually actively avoids them and any sort of social encounters as much as he can because he doesn't care about the bloody Christmas lights, alright?

These things seem mundane and uninteresting to him, obviously, since all he really cares about is hoarding his book collection in peace like the little hedonist he is and drawing as little attention as possible to his none-business business.

Oh, right, speaking of books:

Let's take another unnecessarily detailed look at the whole Whickber Street invitation scene:

Aziraphale realizes very quickly that he's not the only one who's quite unenthusiastic about the blessed Chritsmas lights. And despite his very persuasive methods of temptation ...

... he has to take some more drastic measurements. And those are?

That's right: Giving away his books.

I'll repeat it again, slowly: Aziraphale is willingly (!) giving away or lending his books to pretty much complete strangers to, allegedly, make two other humans strangers fall in love.

Seriously, who is that angel and what has he done with our prim, fussy, hedonistic Aziraphale that protects his books with the vice grip of an eagle carrying his precious prey?

Believe in the importance of Mission Lovebirds as much as you will, but we're talking about Mr. A.Z. Fell here who, over the past millennia, has pretty much spent every day actively working out methods to stop people from purchasing as much as a single paperback from his holy shelves.

And yet: the 1965 September Dr. Who Annual? Given away. The first edition of Expert at the Card Table that was S. W. Erdnase's personal copy? Lent away to grubby human hands to fondle around with.

Let's do another coloured dialogue diversion (don't worry, it's not as extensive as the last one):

Crowley: "You just did what I think you did?" Aziraphale: "I'm not prepared to talk about it." Crowley: "You gave away a book." Aziraphale: "I had to! Maggie and Nina are depending on me. They just don't know it yet."

Crowley backs up my point: This is a huge deal. Aziraphale does not sell his books – let alone give them away for free. We're all shocked! Flabbergasted!

And the explanation Crowley and us get just ... doesn't satisfy. Something and someone sure is depending on this Ball and doesn't know it yet. But it's most definitely not Maggie and Nina, folks.

You know for whom Aziraphale would give away his books in the blink of an eye, though?

Mhm, that's right.

This pretty old serpent.

I want to take a minute to show you the reaction again that Aziraphale has upon entering the very same magic shop him and Crowley went to in 1941 to acquire the Bullet Catch:

You ... you need a minute there, angel? You're sure looking a little ... affected.

And I mean, well, no wonder. He reminisced about that very memory four hours last night. To him, this shop is where the most turbulent, ecstatic, adrenaline-fuelled and romantic night of his life began. And it shows.

I've made my point in my other meta series about how Aziraphale is an incredibly nostalgic character. He romanticizes so many things in his memories – especially the parts that feature Crowley. So, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest that he's once again willing to loosen the tight grip he has on his book collection to get the successor of Will Goldstone's Magic Shop, the shop that started it all for him, to come to his fancy Ball.

As we watch Aziraphale and his little lap dog demon pat around Soho, I'd like to take another second to point out that he goes to seven or more establishments before he even invites Nina.

... and he only does so because she starts talking to them on the street. Almost like he'd forgotten about it. Why not ask her at the very beginning? To establish whether or not he'd have to book-blackmail her too?

"Perfectly ordinary invitation with no hidden agenda of any kind", except that he's using you and Maggie as a pretence to resolve his own clusterfuck of a relationship-miscommunication Jane-Austen-style so that he can then hopefully confess his undying love to his demon not-boyfriend boyfriend.

Marvellous!

You'll forgive me another short diversion but my God, the whole exchange at the Marguerite's restaurant with Crowley literally cat-call-whistling Aziraphale over to him (and Aziraphale checking if he meant someone else first, I–)? I am weak. So, so weak and

However, this is also when we get a snippet of Crowley finally revealing the truth in place of his "Oh, he's fine"-lie earlier and telling Aziraphale that he's actually pretty scared Jim might turn back into Gabriel and smite him altogether. And Aziraphale's response is, in a cosmic sense, (remember the pink paragraph now) so hilarious:

"Have you thought of just talking to him?"

Yeah, have you? Have any of the two of you? Just thought about talking? To each other? About anything?

'pparently not. But hey, it's all good because remember what the ultimate remedy for star-crossed lovers simply misunderstanding each other is?

Bish, bash, bosh, problem solved!

Back at the ballroom bookshop, Aziraphale sends Crowley to invite Maggie in order to, in my opinion, not spoil the Ball-y surprise for him. (Inviting Maggie only now?! Wouldn't she be one of the only two guests who really should attend? Why the short notice? If she's really that important for the Ball you're planning, hm?)

On top of this, we see Nina almost not attending the Ball meeting after her partner broke up with her and Crowley being the one who coincidentally runs into her and ushers her into the bookshop before Shax and her "legion" of demons start creeping up on them. Again, if this hadn't happened by pure coincidence, Nina would have left to go home and this whole Ball would have taken place without her, rendering the apparent sole purpose of making her fall in love with Maggie useless.

Why doesn't Aziraphale care more for both of them to attend and be there? Why is he instead busy fussing over everything looking perfect and wonderful and doesn't even seem to notice that both Nina and Maggie are really late to the meeting?

Well. Well.

The answer's in the title, babes.

Alas, Crowley safely gets Maggie and Nina to join them, Mr. Brown is the only one who doesn't get a miracled outfit (fussy, petty angel, you just don't like him, do you?), Jimbriel stuns with glamour and flirt (and whatever sexually suggestive thing he does with his cheeks) and the Whickber Street Ball is a-go!

Sorry, I just had to chuck this in again because Crowley's face here absolutely kills me every time. He looks so confused, I am hollering.

And the heart eyes Aziraphale is making at Nina and Maggie now that they're actually here?

Oh, bless it, angel.

He's all like "Oh look, it's working! Jane was right! It's all going to be resolved, all the misunderstanding and quarrels! Crowley, where's Crowley–"

Ah yes, there he is.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is an angel who is not listening to a single word being said right now. No, in his head, Aziraphale is already down on one knee, pouring his heart out to Crowley after they just danced the night away.

Oh, yes, right. The dancing.

Parallel much?

But well, as marvellous and beautifully romantic as her stories tend to be, it turns out that Jane Austen isn't always right after all. Because before we know it, the perfect night shatters into many-a tiny pieces (literally).

And once again, fhwack:

... the rosy bubble bursts.

Let's take one more deep breath so I can make my final point:

In S2E2, Aziraphale explains to us very exactly what Jane's Balls (hrhr) used to be about: Solving miscommunication and confessing love to one another.

During his car journey back from Edinburgh, Aziraphale:

doesn't know Crowley's Mission Lovebirds had failed

remembers 1941 and just how badly he's in love with Crowley

and also realizes that they seem to have been wildly miscommunicating for quite some time now. (Crowley didn't even tell him he basically got let go!)

So, what does maddeningly strong love plus a want to resolve all the miscommunication equal? That's right: A night to remember! A Ball to change it all! A dance, a vol-au-vent, a confession. And, ideally, a happy ever after. Because:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man angel in possession of a good fortune Jane Austen collection, must be in want of a wife demon husband.”

The Ball was never for Nina and Maggie. As a byproduct, maybe, yes. But the whole rest of the glimmer and glamour, the careful, romantic planning and set up of it all, the book-bating the other shopkeepers– that was for Crowley and Crowley only.

And oh, if only it were as easy as in the books.

*whispers* I'm sorry, I had to.

***

Your honour, the tinfoil-hat crackpot defence rests. Feel free to share thoughts (and prayers) if you want to!

Au revoir! 💗

[star-anise]

Everyone's got a take, and I've got a take too, about the current Internet Villain: James Somerton, a gay Youtuber who just got exposed (in the back half of a 4-hour video) as massively plagiarizing the work of LGBTQ+ media critics, historians, and memoirists, and then exposed in another 2-hour video as just making up the wildest nonsense about the topics he demonstrably had access to accurate information on.

He achieved a six-figure income on his work by squeezing money out of his audience with claims...

That only he was creating content that preserved queer history and elevated the voices and experiences of the LGBTQ+ community (a lie)

He was in serious financial distress and would have to go out of business if people didn't give him tons of money (a lie)

That he was going to use some of that cash to make definitely good and not-at-all-plagiarized independent movies, a thing he was definitely skilled and experienced enough to do (a lie), and

That those plagiarism allegations were incorrect,, and frankly,,,, hurtful and homophobic. (a GIANT lie)

Like, here's a visualization of the script of one of his videos, "Society and Queer Horror". The highlighted bits were lifted nearly verbatim from the works of others—the 18 authors identified at the time the exposé was posted—and presented as Somerton's own work.

So here's what drives me absolutely up the wall about this:

If he had just ADMITTED that it was the work of other people, THAT WOULD STILL BE COOL. If he had just said, up front, "We are going on a survey of thoughts and insights people have had about this topic", that would still be a good video with a real audience!

Like yes, he studied business in university, he might not have gotten the kinds of research skills and knowledge someone like Kaz Rowe uses to not just report on the history and analysis of others, but evaluate their relative validity and trustworthiness.

But honestly, since watching my niblings (oldest is 13) watch Youtube, I think you honestly can't underestimate the number of viewers who are really hungry for someone saying, "I don't understand this topic! Let's explore it together!"

But NOOOOOOO, Somerton didn't want to be just some schmuck waxing enthusiastic about homoeroticism on film and acknowledging the smartness of other people. He wanted to be HIM, MR. SMARTYBOY, very sophisticated and alluring and thoughtful and deep. Definitely an intellectual heavyweight who just happened to spout off his own personal ideas and analysis that put him at the forefront of all the scholarship on the topic he's come across.

I hate being wrong. Hate being wrong. But blogging for most of my life has forced me to confront constant textual evidence that two or ten or twenty years ago, I said some dumb-ass shit. Honestly, it'd probably keep me up at night sometimes even if I didn't have a written record. I absolutely understand the desire to scan the field, find the coolest people around, and quickly clothe yourself in as perfect an imitation of them as you can manage.

But if you want to be an artist or a scholar who produces something lasting, you can't prioritize coolness over truth all the time. To develop your true, independent voice, you need to find a time and place where it is just you and just the work you're doing, and you have pick up your tools and say, I don't know if I'm doing this right, but this is what feels right to me.

There are a lot of things in life to which we can only truly contribute our presence and our perspectives. Things we can only witness or hold space for. We cannot go back and bleed the pain out of history, or erase the complexity of another person's life. Not honestly, at least.

But those are the times that need our presence, our perspectives, our witness, and our space. When we gather round and tell sad tales about the death of kings, honesty can be the only thing you give that's worth a damn in the large scale of things.

If this dude had owned up to the truth and honestly showed the work of trying to piece together a queer understanding of the world, trying to draw the threads of culture together until he found a place he fit inside them, it would have been so much more valuable to our culture as a whole.

He probably made more money this way, though. While it lasted.

[violetmuses]

Angel - T. Richmond ❤️‍🩹

Title: Angel - T. Richmond ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Rebel Ridge” Film Universe

Character: Terry Richmond

Pairing: Terry Richmond + Female Reader

Main Storyline: Facing one nightmare could lead to unexpected joy.

@episodes-ff @diaries-of-me @blackgurlnhermoods @liquorlaughslove @babybratzmaraj @cloveroctobers @becauseimswagman1 @slippinninque 🏷

=====

2024

“Excuse me?” Grounded in the rural town of Shelby Springs, veteran Terry Richmond noticed your own steps moving down this federal corridor.

“Yes?” You've turned around mid-stride when someone catches your attention.

Goodness gracious.

Towering this muscular build as he chose one fitted shirt, veteran Terry Richmond offered unexpected height as his striking gaze reached your direction.

“I left the police station this morning and I don't have representation yet. Do you know anyone available?” His deep yet gentle voice nearly shook up your presence.

“Depending on your case, finding assistance could be difficult. Most of us scramble here with many circumstances.” Clearing your throat, an explanation offered the truth.

“Are you swamped?” Richmond handed out the question for obvious reasons.

“I might as well be.” You sighed while holding this briefcase. “This town is so small that you'll cough and everyone will know about it.”

“I just need help if something goes wrong.” Terry knew better.

“Follow me. Let's speak in private.” You offered this path while heading elsewhere.

______

“I'm sorry if there's too much going on, but how can I move forward?” Richmond sat across from you while placed in this cramped office.

“No chance in hell.” Struggling with advice, you shook your head after learning Terry Richmond's case. "Just show up on Monday like the Chief said or you've lost an opportunity.”

“He's not very nice.” Richmond settled his frustration regarding Sandy Burne, the arrogant Chief of Police.

“Burne is only tolerable if folks put up with his nonsense.” You say. “Defiance gets your ass kicked out.”

“I'll be gone if everything stays in order.” Terry just wanted to leave this place with his cousin Mike alive.

“Be careful out here.” Your voice cautioned. “The police department has more resources than everyone else.”

“Does Burne know who you are?” Terry still looked out.

“Enough to keep me working.” You almost scoffed behind the desk. “Tight skirts always make money. There's so many perverts that I even collected wedding rings for this side of town.”

Damn. Richmond thought.

“Apologies for wasting time.” Terry stood from the chair and gathered his backpack, ready to go.

“Here's my contact info as a safeguard.” You exchanged phone numbers.

“Thank you, Ma'am.” Terry nodded, leaving this establishment.

******

“Terry! I heard the news. Where are you?” You picked up this phone in broad daylight.

Reports explained drama that bled from the corrupt police station.

“At the hospital. Medics started helping Summer McBride.” Richmond acknowledged one of the other legal assistants.

“What's the next plan? You can't stay here forever.” Your voice warned again.

“I've figured out a settlement.” Terry explained further. “We locked enough proof to shut everything down.”

“What should I do?” You didn't even know what to think. “Summer's probably knocked off from ailments.”

“Please pick me up from the lobby.” Richmond continued speaking. “I lost my bike and just gave back one of their police cruisers.”

“Okay. Stay there.” You snatched car keys without thinking twice and rushed out of work.

******

“Terry!” You honked while staying in that driver's seat and Terry jogged outdoors, circled around to meet the passenger side.

“Thank you.” Despite expressing gratitude, Richmond couldn't smile when you punched the gas to avoid more problems.

______

“Where should we go, Terry?“ Given no other choice, you kept driving. “With Burne still mad, you're better off leaving this place.”

“Come with me.” Richmond pulled his deep voice again.

“What?” Squinting, you nearly pulled the car over right now.

“If I couldn't help Mike and Summer get out of here, maybe there's a chance with us.” Terry offered.

“I….” You've made one turn and led Richmond near the airport.

“No matter what happens, we'll keep looking out for each other. Deal?” His words revealed this vow.

“Deal.” You hurried to park the car before gas would run out and reached Terry's hand while entering that larger terminal.

*****

Scoring this new home, you joined Richmond and practically lived together now.

“No luck?” Terry snuck from behind as you work with your laptop by the kitchen table.

“Stop it!” Laughing, you almost swatted him away as this rare yet adorable smile brightened his face.

“I'm asking.” Richmond pointed to the main screen.

“Working soon.” You grinned while confirming another placement.

“Aight, c'mon…” Hardly responding, Terry lifted your weight and carried you over his shoulder, leading this moment upstairs.

“Wait, put me down!” Your laugh would echo straight through his mind forever.

[secriden]

screaming yelling oh my GOD i'm probably a million years late to this party, but can i just take a moment to appreciate how Monster Next Door subverts the usual 'under the influence' trope in episode 4/5!??!?

ngl when the scene started i was cringing so hard, because what i thought was going to happen didn't feel necessary for the development of the characters or their relationship. i understand that some stories require scenes which drive the character to wrestle with the truth of their inner demons (i'm thinking of you, kpts episode 4), but this show and the characters did not need it at all.

but bless the writers/director(s) of MND!! they didn't disappoint!! so instead we get:

god adorably gushing about how cute diew is while he's drunk and has no filter <3 (ahhh, send help! god's implying that when he normally thinks of diew, his imagination of diew doesn't ever live up to when he sees diew in reality so he instinctively knows its not just him dreaming/thinking of diew!! this is SO CUTE!!!!)

2. god clearly wanting to kiss diew but even blind drunk he doesn't yank diew into the kiss. the way it's shot, we actually see diew slowly relaxing onto god, so we get to see that he wants the kiss too.

3. but crucially, diew pulls back! which i'm just... relieved over tbh because it would have felt quite out of character for diew to have kissed him here anyway, but also these darling boys deserve a much better first kiss where neither of them are intoxicated (hopefully this doesn't come back to bite me later).

4. during the whole shower section, i got a bit worried again, but we see diew doing his level best to treat god right given the circumstances and he keeps turning away when he can/seems to be trying to touch god as little as possible. like this scene is clearly there for us, the audience, to appreciate Big Thanakorn's incredibly impressive physique, but diew, at least, is more discomforted by the situation then anything else. which feels right.

5. and bLESS we don't even need to suffer through unnecessary misunderstandings between them the next morning because when god wakes up he just communicates, just like he's consistently been doing this whole time, completely in line with what we know about his character up to this point! its so refreshing to NOT have them "fight" because they don't talk about what happened.

also i like that he acknowledges that he didn't have control when he's drunk and that it wasn't actually okay/good for their relationship. like, idk, sometimes shows just glorify alcoholism/the 'liberty' that comes with being drunk, but i'm grateful this show isn't doing that despite being in a university setting.

an aside: the show's commitment to drawing attention to the size difference cracks me up because diew wears these huge as baggy tshirts and they're still too small for god.

anyway, yes, this is a love letter to the writers/director(s) of monster next door who clearly know their show, know their characters, and gave us such a sweet subverted version of this troupe. <3

[theambitiouswoman]

Hi Angel 🤍

I'm a 19 year old girl, and i'm highly ambitious, i'm working my ass off everyday to get what i want, but fear is ruining my brain.

I'm glad i'm where i am now (3rd year at university, abroad in Canada, starting new projects...) but i'm always so terrified.

And fear paralyses me.

My projects include filmphotography/short movie and a book i'm writing right now.

I keep telling myself "do it scared" but i'm so sick and tired of being afraid all the time.

Do you have any advices ?

Hi beauty 🤍

First off, I just want to say how proud I am of you for everything you're doing at just 19!!! You're already achieving so much already. That's something many people only dream about, so please take a moment to acknowledge just how far you've come.

It's tough to have big dreams & to put yourself out there. Fear is like this shadow that creeps in, making us doubt ourselves, abilities & our paths. But here's the thing: fear only shows up when you're doing something that truly matters. It's a sign that you're stepping into something big, something that has the power to change you & the world around you.

You mentioned a phrase I love: "Do it scared." The truth is, fear never really goes away, especially when you're pursuing things that are meaningful & aligned with your passions. But fear can either be your enemy or your fuel. The difference is how you choose to see it. I would say to convince yourself that you are suppose to feel scared, it means you are actually doing something! So accept it as part of the process.

Sometimes, the fear comes from looking at the whole picture—how much you still have to do, how far you still have to go. Instead, focus on just the next small step. Small wins build momentum. Your big goals are certainly achievable, but breaking them down into small stepping stones helps take the fear away.

Remember your deeper "why"? Remind yourself of the passion that got you here, and let that drive you forward. Instead of thinking, "I'm scared," try shifting it to, "I'm excited." The physical sensations of fear & excitement are almost the same.

It's okay to feel afraid. It's okay to not have it all figured out. You're already doing amazing things and there's no timeline you have to follow, seriously. Be kind to yourself and remember that everyone you look up to has felt this same fear.

Lastly, something I always remind myself is: courage isn't the absence of fear; it's the decision to keep moving forward despite it. You're already doing that every single day, and that’s what makes you an incredibly brave girl.

Sending you so much love & strength 🤍

[ultfreakme]

Jon and Co-dependence: my boy's mad at me. i'm going to make him move in w/ me and make him popcorn

Absolute Power: Super Son gave me a lot to think about. In terms of writing I really can't complain, it was executed very well for a one-shot. But in terms of characters, I'm frustrated(in a way indicative of good writing) about Jon and Nia.

This issue does not resolve Jon's problems, it brings them to audience awareness in an explicit manner. People who've been keeping a keen eye on Jon saw this coming since 2021 in SOKE but no writer stated it in clear terms on page this way. Avoidance, denial, and an inability to think in terms of his humanity and only as a tool or a part of a whole(family, romance, friendship). Jon knows he's avoidant, he doesn't like thinking about his trauma or talking about it, he will suffer through it alone. Even in his deepest, most lowest moment, he speaks of his own trauma in terms of his family.

His autonomy and individuality have been slowly chipped away by the prospect of being Superman. Superman does not live for himself, he takes risks and sacrifices himself for the greater good. That label and the shadow of his father in that suit has been following him since he was 9-10 years old.

The only thing Jon seems to want solely for himself, is Jay.

Up until this point, Jon has been fairly chill and normal about seemingly on the surface. Their relationship was always very sweet, they were always on the same page and never had a reason to fight. There is a deep admiration and respect between them. But the understanding, the ability to see the person for who they are at their core, has yet to happen.

Regardless of that, Jon loves Jay in a way that is damn near unhealthy and codependent.

His love for Jay is what breaks Jon out of Brainiac Queen(BQ)'s control, but it makes him reckless and impulsive. He needs Jay in his life. Throughout the issue, Jay was pointedly not present in the dreams Nia constructed to keep Jon's mind safe from BQ's attack. This is precisely what kept breaking any shield Nia put up.

Jay's absence drives Jon deeper into spiraling. The lies Nia made for Jon never, ever worked because Jay was missing. A dream of his which Nia repeatedly showed Jon and which Jon has admitted is his wish to move to San Fran and get an apartment with Jay in it.

Nia gave him the apartment and the city but not the man and that always, ALWAYS broke Jon out. When Nia isn't around to keep things in-check, Jon just spontaneously remembers Jay on his own and inserts him into the dreamscape.

Nia built those dreams to protect Jon, but also to help him in fighting back but Jon was extremely weak to BQ's control regardless of those efforts. The only time Jon manages to find the strength to fight back is when Nia drops the dreams and instead just shows him the truth of BQ and acknowledges his trauma. She correctly identified that Jon needs help to fight back, but not through falsehoods, but through the truth.

That's when Jon fights back and breaks out of the control. At every turn, Jay and the things he stands for are what pull Jon out of false comfort.

There's those phrases right? Sweet dreams. Ugly truths. That's Nia and Jay.

The reality with Jay is nothing like a dream but Jon would rather take the pain of reality than be trapped in fake happiness. There was a pattern in the issue where Jon kept texting Jay after every dream session with the Amazonians. Jay checking in asking if he's okay, Jon replying he's 'totally fine' despite not feeling like that. Jay was his guide to the truth in SOKE, AOSJK, and now Super Son.

Jon's had his reality fucked with a LOOOOOOOT. Manchester Black, Waller & BQ, Injustice Universe, and the whole space trip. Jon has had this existential turmoil since he was a child, it was made worse by his trip to space with Jor-El. The impossibility of his existence is frequently emphasized. Most people see it as a miracle, Jon sees it as point of fear and doubt about his existence. He needs something, anything to stay above the surface and that is Jay.

Like, it is now canon, that Jay is Jon's tether to reality. He is the one thing he will selfishly ask for himself and by golly is he selfish about it. He clings. It's a repeated pattern.

The night they become official, the tendencies start showing.

SOKE establishes that Jay is always the one letting go, and Jon is always the one holding on by any means necessary. This leads to so truly ✨Problematic✨decisions on Jon's part.

A list, if I may:

Gives Jay a new suit and half-proposes to him with a legion ring

Nearly fights Batman over him

Goes to Jay's counterpart in the injustice-verse with no evidence of if he may be good or not and just trusts him blindly

Took Jay to his own Fortress of Solitude and planned on keeping him there during the Siege of Gamorra

Burst in through a wall because he thought Jay was in danger

Asks to move in with him and move across the country with him

Safe to say, Jon needs Jay in some deep, fundamental, and kind of unhealthy way. The last one happens when Jay suggests it's not going to work between them if Jon insists he must forgive Nia. You don't define your own reality based on one person if you don't got issues, and unfortunately Jay does dish it like it is and calls himself the truth so like Jay was doomed from the second he opened his mouth and posted his recordings online.

Jay suggested breaking it off-- for understandable reasons- and within five minutes Jon dropped his very first "I love you" to Jay and asked him to move in with him.

This kind of leads to Jon deifying Jay and not seeing him entirely as a person. Jay is deeply upset about his mother's death, when Jon just rush at him with moving in together, Jay cries but doesn't immediately agree. He actually pulled away and seemed like he might have protested if not for the Amazonians calling Jon in to stop Waller.

Jay's relationship with Jon is filled with this, and Jay has to call Jon out to slow down and address Jay's issues(this makes him sound so bad, he really isn't, he' just gets too caught up in "protect him protect him protect him" mode when he's under distress). He does this when Jon is about to leave him to go fight Bendix, and in AOSJK when Jon's being all happy about getting to go out freely in public while Jay's stuck wearing disguises.

Jon's tendency to view Jay as his tether leads to him dismissing Jay's very human, raw and awful emotions. It's why he's so shocked when Jay feels nothing about Nia's death. It's also why he's quick to just ignore the topic and because yeah he feels terrible about it but if he keeps pushing this, Jay will leave him.

Jay's story.....is one of a loss of autonomy, just as much as Jon's. It happens in how he gains his powers, the way Nia betrayed him, the loss of his secret identity which he HEAVILY relied on to convey news, the seeming loss/ lowered involvement with The Truth news streams, and frequently with Jon where Jon chips at it with his desperate need to keep Jay by his side.

Jay doesn't dream of San Fran. Jay doesn't dream of shared apartments. No one has yet to properly let Jay cry about the loss of his country and his mother. Jon's avoidance strategy HURTS Jay here in an immense way.

If this keeps going, this relationship is going to break. Jay's always putting up with this, with Jon, because at this moment, he has no family. Jon is his closest tie to anyone, he can't let him go either because if he does he loses his entire support system but he's willing to since he actually prioritizes his grief over his mother. Jon centering Jay as a concept around his desire for himself is going to cause huge problems in the future.

Anyways, Jon's a freak, free Jay. Stan toxic yaoi.

[riverofinkofficial]

Painting Your Own Path

I previously submitted this short story to a competition that Reedsy.com hosted. I hope you enjoy it here as well!

SUMMARY: A young artist moves out of her childhood home to travel and paint only to return home when her unforgiving mother falls ill. Join her in her journey of self-growth and forgiveness.

Word Count: 1,617

It is always the cold winter night, when frost overtakes the town and snow buries our favorite memories. It is when the clouds dominate the sky and so our universe seems to disappear. Or is it that my family only fights on christmas then cries and pleads with one another as they leave the gathering. No, I think it is when the sun rises but no light is strong enough to break through; that is how I know that the winter has been cursed.

Well, I stopped going to family gatherings, in fact I have not seen any of my family in three years! Practically the moment I turned eighteen I was out the door and riding a one-way ticket to anywhere I could manage. That ended up being a two-and-a-half-hour drive from my hometown to Albuquerque and a four-hour flight from there to New York City. Only to discover that big cities are definitely not my cup of tea. I sold some of my watercolor paintings to buy a taxi to Boston. I traveled around like that for the first couple of years. I would stay in one place for two weeks or at times a month. My watercolor paintings (or as my mom put it “a waste of gods good colors”) sold relatively well wherever I went. In some cities I set up an easel in the street and sold people’s portraits! I was in Chicago painting the snowy landscapes of the city when I got the call.

“Maggie, where are you? Your mother has been worried sick! I only found you cause  of those silly photos on the Photogram! You can’t go running off without a word in the middle of the night!” What a lovely reminder of why I left. I threatened to hang up, there is no room in my life for my family’s chaotic energy. But then she shook my world.

“She’s in the hospital Maggie, the doctors are doing what they can but she ain’t looking too good.” That was not the surprising part, her health has been deteriorating for the past few years. She says it is the stress of having a failure for a daughter that causes it but everyone knows it is the alcohol that will do her in one day. It sounds to me that the day has come. “Maggie? Are you there, don't you have anything to say?” 

The truth is, I do not know what to say. What do you say when the person who beat you, dehumanized and hated you is on their deathbed? What are you supposed to feel when you get to see someone receive their karma for the harm they did to you? If you feel relieved, does that make you a bad person? If you feel pain, does that mean you are still under their spell? Or maybe you feel nothing, does that free you from the responsibility of responding or even acknowledging them at all? All of these feelings rush through me with the wind, the town square I had been painting rocks in its place on the easel. Someone picks up a canvas from my little ground display then pushes some money into my hand as they walk off with it.

“Maggie?” What should I do?

A great gust of wind howls through, my easel rocks and some canvas I have on display fall over. A painting of Lady Liberty topples over into the snow, I can almost smell the embers of her fire turning to smoke. Behind her was an old painting of a statue in the Taos Plaza. I painted it while I was feeling homesick in Ohio last summer. That must be some sort of sign. I told my aunt that I would get a flight home and hang up before she could say another word. Man, the winter really is haunted, isn’t it?

I pack up my canvases and tools, make one last sell on a hyper-realistic DuSable Bridge painting, then I hail a taxi. There are no tickets available to fly to Albuquerque so I wait in the gate lounge only half hoping someone does not show up so I can get their seat. The woman coordinating passengers comes out to announce two empty seats for sale at a reduced price. I hurried over and secure my seat at 9A and rushed on board the plane. My thumb traces the colorful heart on the corner of the ticket in anticipation. 

“Good evening, ladies and gents, this is your captain Henry speaking!” The captain runs through safety precautions, sprinkling in his own friendly jabs. “...we will be landing in Albuquerque, New Mexico at about nine-thirty PM. Please enjoy your flight and remember, no skydiving without me!” There are a few chuckles, most people are already asleep or deep into conversations. As we took off, I noticed a small boy, perhaps merely five years old, staring at me from the neighboring aisle. The rhinoceros doll he is clutching seems to be staring too. When we are permitted to use our devices, I pop in my wired earbuds and open my Photogram. I posted a goofy photo of me on the plane, captioned with Where do you think I’ll end up this time?! It does not take long for people to start seeing it, comments and likes begin rolling in. For a street painter I have made quite a name for myself in so few years. Maybe I could really do something with my talent, like my mom always said I never would. The little boy from before interrupts my thoughts, he stands in front of me with his doll hugged tight against his chest.

“Miss?” I try to smile though I am uncomfortable, whose kid is this anyway? “I don’t like planes, Stan doesn’t like ‘em either.” He hugs the stuffed animal tighter so it must be the one called Stan. 

“Do you want to play games on my phone for a while?” His eyes light up and he nods eagerly. I set him up with some puzzle games I have on my phone and he returned to his seat humming happily. 

The rest of the flight was undisturbed, the boy gave me the phone back, I shook Stan’s plush hoof and waved bye as he ran to his grandma. Now as I walk down to the bus stop, I begin feeling tight and far away from everything. I do not truly see the bright blue bus as I step into it nor do I see the people around me as we bob down the highway. It was not until we reached the bus stop in front of the courthouse that the world came back to me. Now I am standing in the frozen wasteland which I once called home wondering how I have gone so far only to end up back here. I begin my march through memory lane. It really is not a long walk to the house on Gusdorf street but it felt like hours, every possible scenario runs through my head, my mixed emotions war with each other. The front door of my childhood home flies open, my tear-soaked aunt bursting out the door.

“She’s barely holding on, Maggie. We have to go now!” She embraced me for the first time since I was a young child. A sweet cherry aroma emanates from her flawless cardigan. She had always blamed me for my dad leaving which sent my mom into depression and alcoholism. I suppose desperation helps us find forgiveness when we otherwise would not. I do not know if my mom would feel the same way, when we got to the hospital the doctor greeted us solemnly. I must have looked more shook than I felt because my aunt took me by the arm and softly sat me in a chair.  As he explains their efforts and pushes us to understand the severity of her condition, I only stare at the nameplate on his clean desk. Dr. Eric R. Foreman. The man who failed my mother.

I cannot say it was heartbreaking when I saw her in the hospital bed. It was more like it just was not happening. Even now at her funeral I cannot name the feeling. It is the kind of detachment that grows a very particular sort of pain deep inside. Maybe it just has not hit me yet but somehow, I know I will keep moving on as I always have.

How do you learn to judge yourself without tearing apart your soul to do it? How do I make moving on okay, shed my guilt and live my life despite her absence? I tell myself she was never present in the first place. I know better though, because even after I left, I kept her in the foreground of my mind. I know that I was the one who ultimately set fire to our bridge. Regret? No, I don’t think I do. It is necessary for my survival to move on… though I will hold my inevitable love for her in my heart forever. If there is regret to be had it is only that I don’t know if she ever would have come to love me the same. I stuff my journal into my side bag and stare up into the great blue sky. A bright young couple walks up to request a portrait. I move my sketch of the Space Needle aside and get started.

Just one painting at a time will take me on my journey to wherever I am meant to be, I have never felt so alive!

[kaythefloppa]

Lion Guard Rant: Janja's Redemption

One of the things that annoy me about The Lion Guard [as much as I enjoy the series] even after nearly half a decade of the show being over is how they handled Janja's redemption arc.

You may think I'm referring to how he was forgiven too easily and got no consequences [I'm not mainly talking punitive, but no further acknowledgment of what he's done or having to own up and apologize] - That's part of the reason why I didn't like it [I still like the character and JanjaxJasiri is a guilty pleasure of mine but yeah there's that little hiccup]:

The other reason is something that almost no one talks about and it drives me nuts, so I gonna have my time to shine; Remember back in The Rise of Scar when Ushari joined the hyenas and suggested communicating with Scar? And then he had this little exchange?

The show makes it very clear that Janja doesn't know the real reason behind Scar's death: That Scar dug his own grave trying to sell out the last hyenas who helped him [who, in case you're new to the TLK/TLG pipeline, are ancestors of Janja's clan, but don't expect that to ever have any relevance in the story --- a rant for another day]. This is important because they use this as an in-universe explanation as to why the hyenas [in the series] would want to help Scar.

Then there are moments like this in the series:

Sound familiar?

Scar makes the same promises as he does to his last army as a means of keeping them in line, regardless of whether or not he actually means it. He wouldn't do this if his audience [the hyenas] were smart enough to catch onto Scar's BS. And again, because Janja's hyenas don't know how badly Scar screwed their [presumed] parents over, they go along with it, continuing the vicious cycle.

Finally, there's the Hyena Resistance, in which Jasiri states she knows about the "legend of Scar" being a hyena.

Now setting aside the fact that there's so much missed potential with that line [like say, maybe Jasiri's clan were members of Shenzi's clan before a revolt, and thus they learned the value of the Circle of Life but again, a rant for another day] Jasiri knows about Scar's alliance with the hyenas, and being allied with SImba's family, who played an instrumental role in Scar's downfall, would give her knowledge on the real reason Scar died:

Combine that with Janja saving Jasiri and offering him a place on the good side and it's clear that the story connects itself together like a bow: Janja realizing the error of his ancestors, thanks to the effort of his fellow hyena and breaking the cycle by fighting for the Circle of Life, fitting the theme of the LK movies of "fighting the demons and evils of the past in order to carve the path for a better future" A very clever and reasonable bit of writing.... except it's not and all but one of the abovementioned stuff goes NOWHERE!!!

Was I the only one actually expecting this to go somewhere??: With how everything was set up and with how the show wanted to tie itself in with the movies, I thought the 3 abovementioned episodes were building up to a season finale where Janja learned the truth of Scar's betrayal of his predecessors and chooses to break the cycle of manipulation and treachery by turning against Scar, possibly finding some way to bring the original trio back into the franchise [one of the biggest golden missed opportunities for the show] and starting his redemption from there on out. I was completely dumbfounded at how all of this un-wraveled in actuality!

Janja's ancestry and Scar's betrayal of the first hyenas who served him have nothing to do with him switching sides, and they leave it pointlessly ambiguous as to whether or not Janja ever finds out that this is not the first time Scar was a backstabbing douche to hyenas.

Oh and they apparently offset this through this really awkward retcon where no one knows how Scar died and everyone thinks Simba killed him by yeeting him into the fire... even though Simba is implied to have told Kovu the real story behind Scar's death [because he SAW the motherfucker getting ripped to shreds by hyenas] and there is never an in-universe explanation given as to why everyone thinks Simba did it [and you can't even use the censors as an excuse, they could easily say "they ate him" - gluttony is the motivation of half the villains in this show, you could easily say the hyenas ate Scar and the kids at home wouldn't be traumatized].

This is also slightly off topic, but I almost find it to be somewhat of a double standard that Janja and the other Outlanders got off the hook, yet Ushari, who left the Pridelands because of the Lion Guard's mistreatment of him, is killed off with no one reacting to his death or his prior betrayal [again, both of which are partially the Lion Guard's fault].

[loracarol]

Crowley spent 6000 years trying to convince Aziraphale that their side was worth it, worth fighting Heaven and Hell for. It might take another 6000 and a few thwarted apocalypses for Aziraphale to convince him that he finally gets it. Post Good Omens 2.

Crowley gets reinstated as an angel.

(long fic heads up)

It was a truth universally acknowledged that an angel in possession of no memory must be in want of a wife. No, that was the wrong book. The wrong line. Aziraphale frowned. “What,” the gentleman before him asked, “and I mean what, are you doing here?” ----------------- Or, two years after things fall apart, Aziraphale shows up at Crowley's doorstep without his memories. The easy part is getting it back, the hard part is getting them back together.

After three years in heaven, Aziraphale suddenly returns. With no memories of Crowley and their 6000 years of history. Crowley is coping just barely (Barely meaning not at all).

On the seventh day, the day of rest, Aziraphale returns. OR post-canon fix-it fic. aziraphale stops the apocalypse (again), is cast down from heaven (again), and comes home to apologize

(admittedly the happy ending is more implied in this one then stated, but it is happy.)

In which Crowley moves back into his flat, Aziraphale has problems at work, and the Second Coming of Christ is but a stone's throw away.

Post-season-two. Crowley's moping, Aziraphale wants to fix things, and turns out, there's enough blame to go around.

Crowley moves to another continent, but he still ends driving by the bookshop once a week. Eventually, Aziraphale is there too. Minus his memories.

ok you guys have never let me down so i need to know if any of y’all has one type of specific ineffable husbands fanfic rec for me

im looking for a canon compliant post s2 angst with a happy ending one (not a fucking surprise is it)

[wishingyouback]

Just For Tonight. KSM

synopsis: your friendship with seungmin has always been black or white. yes or no, on and off, nothing in between. you either speak, or you don't. but one night, he seems to surprise you.

pairing: seungmin x reader.

genre: tiny angst, reader and seungmin have a sweet friendship.

warning/s: none.

Author's Note: not proofread, any errors or typos will be fixed as soon as i can get back to it. happy readings <3

Seungmin and you have never gotten along.

For as long as you could remember ever since starting your freshman year of university, he had always been passive. Nonchalant in everything he did towards you, and quite frankly while he never directed any hatred nor harsh words towards you to your face, you could sense there wasn't much he liked about you.

You saw the way he would talk to Minho, how they bantered and how he would make jokes that made everyone laugh to the point of tears in their eyes. You knew that Felix, Jisung and Jeongin would occasionally meet up at his house to have movie nights. You noticed how despite how often he would poke fun with Chan and Changbin due to the age gap, he still held so much respect for the two boys, even more so any of the older boys that he knew when to step back if it got too far. He was their go-to person, their close friend — their best friend. But to you, Seungmin was just an acquaintance to say hello to. To acknowledge if you were to see each other outside of classes, but that was all.

"Hey," Jisung slings an arm over your shoulder, letting it lightly rest there, "You okay? You haven't been talking much tonight."

"Hey," Jisung slings an arm over your shoulder, letting it lightly rest there, "You okay? You haven't been talking much tonight."

"Hey," Jisung slings an arm over your shoulder, letting it lightly rest there, "You okay? You haven't been talking much tonight."

"Been better," You say honestly, because you knew even if you weren't telling the truth, Jisung would be able to read you like a book. "Just a little tired," You tell him and that isn't a lie, but it is a half truth.

The only reason you feel as tired as you are at only eight in the evening is because work had been getting to you. Workload was starting to pile up, and to add to that, the person you were seeing the last six months, called it quits an hour prior to the party Chan was hosting. Only Chan was aware of the person you were seeing, and he had been kind enough to not mention their name throughout the evening, but it still plagued your mind after having yourself become so attached and familiar with that person.

"Already?" Jisung glances down at his watch, then purses his lips, "Tell you what, let's both mingle for another half an hour and I'll drive you home, what do you say?"

"I thought you wanted to stay out late tonight?" You ask with a small smile on your face. There had been an ongoing inside joke between you and Jisung that every time he announces he'll stay out late or go out a little past midnight, it almost never happens.

Jisung books your nose with his finger, then shakes his head, "Changed my mind as I always do." He grins, "Want me to get you a drink?"

"I'm okay," you show him your bottle of soda, "Planning to stay sober tonight.

"Good idea," Jisung notes. The commotion inside starts to get a little louder when a new face walks in, "I think Minho just got here. Come say hi?"

"I will in a few," you squeeze Jisung's bicep to reassure him when he gives you a look. "I'll look for you."

"Good," Jisung pulls you in for one hug then leaves you be by the balcony as he jogs back inside. You don't doubt that he's gone off to annoy Minho and decide to look back up at the stars in the night sky.

Barely ten minutes pass by when you hear the sound of the sliding door squeak open. You've told Chan countless of times to have it cleaned but the older boy doesn't listen.

When you turn around to see who it is, you almost don't expect to see Seungmin standing by the door with two cups in his hands with his eyes wide open as if he had been caught shoplifting.

"Seungmin?"

"Hey," He clears his throat and awkwardly slides rhe door shut behind him. Because of how rusty it's starting to get, it takes him a while to close it shut but he manages. "Guess you didn't really expect me to be out here, huh?"

"To be out here?" You turn to look at him when he reaches your side, then look away, "Sure. To be out here next to me, talking to me? Not what I had in mind." You say.

From your peripheral you see him cringe, flinching almost from your worlds but don't say anything else. You pretend to not see it.

"Fair, that's fair," he mutters to himself while he sips at his drink. As if remembering what he was holding in his hands, he brings the other up to you, "I got this for you. Chan said you weren't planning on drinking tonight so it's just water."

You take it carefully, placing your other cup on the floor. "Thanks," You smile. "So, don't get me wrong I don't mind the company, but what made you come out here?"

Seungmin turns to you then looks over his shoulder at the crowd in the apartment.

"Would it be hard to believe I came out here to talk to you?"

Yes.

You chuckle at his words, "Honestly a little bit, yes."

He does the same, looking down at his cup then back out at the scenery.

"I heard about what happened with you and the person you were seeing," Pure disbelief makes it way into your eyes when your eyes lock with Seungmin's. He notices quick under the moonlight, "Chan mentioned in passing that things didn't work out, but it's only because I asked him."

You ponder.

"You asked him?" This causes confusion to fill your mind, "Why?"

"I never said I disliked you, Y/n," Seungmin starts off with a ghost of a smile.

"I've never said it out loud that you did," You fire back.

"But I know my actions towards you have made you feel like I do, but I don't. He clarifies with a serious tone, "The reason I asked was because Jeongin mentioned you weren't being yourself, so I came to ask if you were okay."

"It's shocking coming from me, but I just wanted to tell you that I don't hate you. I don't think any of us could," he glances over his shoulder and you do the same, noticing your seven closest friends yelling while laughing.

"Could," you tease.

"Not likely," He says to you, making the smile on your face grow. "And for what it's worth, whoever it was that decided to drop you like that without a proper explanation or reasoning, is missing out on how much of an amazing person you are."

The surprise must have been written all over your face because Seungmin waits for one minute, another until he finally bursts out laughing at how you stare at him. Despite the outburst of laughter, he almost sounds shy.

"Seungmin, you're full of surprises what on earth! That was so sweet," You tell him, joining in on the laughter when he doesn't stop.

"So I've been told," He calms down with a chuckle and carefully places a hand on your shoulder, waiting to check if you're okay with it then pats it lightly. "C'mon, let's dance."

"Dance?" You don't object, but you're even more baffled to find out that Seungmin loves to dance. Most nights out together he would be standing by the side or sitting at the table.

"Just for tonight, if it'll make you smile," He says.

"Okay, just tonight," You laugh and let Seungmin pull you away from the balcony, back into the living room where you're overwhelmingly showered with love and hugs from your closest friends.

[lilacerull0]

thoughts on cuddy's ending?

Oh. My. God. Nonnie!!!!! *takes a deep breath*

I HATED IT!!!!!!!! Cuddy as a character has always worked against the show's (*coughs* misogynistic) logic (not to mention House's logic), she's the driving force behind a vast majority of instances!!!!! The light, the heart of it all!!!! (no wonder the s8 filter is so dark djdjdjdjksk) After seven years of being a series regular, she deserved so much better. Hell, she deserved so much better while she was still a part of the show!!! Buuuuut, me being me, I had to figure out an in-universe explanation for *gestures vaguely* whatever that finale was and an explanation that satisfied me well enough (It's dark. I'm a fan of the imaginary friend!Wilson theory, ofc it's freaking dark), so here you go (read at your own risk):

Okay so, Cuddy's primary purpose at the beginning of the show is to be House's narrative foil, right? He rebels against authority -> she's authority personified. He's "the outlaw" and she's all about "the rules". But then there's s2 and by the end of it, they start to blend into one another for the first time (there are little tiny clues at the beginning of the season tho, like Cuddy's famous computer password, that imply that she might not be your classic uptight overachieving boss lady WHICH I ADORE ABOUT HER #cuddyfanclub4everrrr)... or better yet they (just as the audience) start noticing the similarities that have always been there, but weren't acknowledged. One giant parallel that was developed with time has to do with the way their bodies betrayed both of them (which will later happen to Wilson as well :/) and it's maddeningly interesting. But it also positions Cuddy as the heart of the show for the first time because House finds her ways of dealing with her situation admirable. Ridiculous! But admirable. (not to say that chronic pain equals infertility, but you get what I mean) Which is kind of like his whole perception of her, almost like she shouldn't even exist, Cuddy is that contrasted with the world from House's perspective. This is why he mocks her, he's trying to find the "real" truth within her, because she just can't be carrying her truth for everyone to see like she does (can be applied to Wilson too, tho Wilson is, if you ask me, more intertwined with House's identity than Cuddy is, I feel like House views Wilson as the best part of himself and Cuddy as someone whose existence symbolises something larger and brighter than who he is), she must somehow be as awful as everyone else is, horrible like he is. (what he doesn't get here is that he's the only person who gets to see that truth so easily and it's not a decision Cuddy has made consciously, it's a decision she didn't even know she was making) BUT!!!!! She proves him wrong (almost) every time. Because Cuddy genuinely is caring and kind and patient and loving. And when s7 comes to an end, Cuddy has done what House would have done if he was in her shoes. She broke up with him and that decision brought her closer to the part of House that House hates, closer to everyone else. What House does in the s7 finale is the ultimate act of self-hatred, you know? It's terrifyingly twisted and more insane than perhaps anything he's ever done. He's crashing into Cuddy's house, but his aim is to destroy himself. And scare Cuddy away, scare her so much that she never comes back. I think House needs that knowledge of a certain light or hope being out there, just a proof of its existence, even if it doesn't directly affect him at that point and I don't think he realizes he needs that kind of assurance, not before he loses Cuddy completely. Because that's when he starts to worry that he might have changed her, not necessarily for the worse, but made her a little more like the rest of the world (which is such a faulty assumption, but that's House for ya), a thought planted by Cameron back in s6.

[myherowritings]

so in love

— “I’m so in love with them, I don’t know what to do.” Requested by @apollochjld​. 

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x reader word count: 1.8k genre: fluff, timeskip iwa in socal

a/n: wow writing this made me wanna be in love; someone make me fall in love with them pls,, jkjk...unless FHDJKFD kidding,, i hope u enjoy reading!! [p.s. i was listening to “i love you 3000 ii” while writing if you wanna match the vibes hehe] xx sof

「 hq masterlist 」

Iwaizumi had been in love approximately once before.

It was in high school when he dated a girl who made his heart race and face flush. She was quiet and dependable, cheerful and kind. Although it didn’t last after he left for university in the States, he enjoyed the relationship while it lasted. It was sweet, it was comfortable. It was what he needed at the time.

But what he felt then paled in comparison when he thought of you. If she made his heart race, you made it soar. 

Iwaizumi found himself thinking about you at the most random times of day—wondering what you were doing, wishing he could be doing those things with you… Whenever his phone buzzed, he would hope it was a message from you. And he’d be embarrassingly disappointed if it wasn’t. 

Since the two of you started dating, you had taken over most of his mind. Things he once thought of as ridiculously mundane now reminded him of you. (How could fuzzy blankets and Christmas lights even conjure up the image of one specific person? He wasn’t sure. But when he saw them, he smiled while thinking of you cuddling him during the colder seasons.)

He had never felt this strongly about someone and it almost scared him how deep his feelings ran.

A mixture of anxiousness and excitement filled his stomach at the realization and he decided to call his best friend for advice. Though Oikawa could be an ass, he was one of the two only people Iwaizumi felt comfortable enough to confide in about everything (the other person being you, but he couldn’t exactly go to you to ask for advice about you). 

“Oi, Shittykawa, you asleep already?”

There was a mocking sigh on the other side of the line. “Iwa-chan,” he chided, “haven’t you learned by now that’s not the proper way to greet someone?” 

He grunted.

“Fine then,” Oikawa pouted. “To answer your question, no, I’m not asleep yet. Did you need something?” 

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi was silent for a while, thinking of how to phrase his feelings. “I… Y/N…” 

“What about Y/N?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Let me guess— You finally acknowledged you’re madly in love with them and you need help coping with the fact you’ve realized your emotional range is now bigger than a baby carrot?” 

Iwaizumi blinked. How—? 

Apparently his pause was enough for Oikawa to figure out he was right. “Holy shit. I actually got it?” He cheered and Iwaizumi could picture him dancing around the room smugly. “That’s great, Iwa-chan!”

He chuckled at his friend’s enthusiasm, Oikawa’s reaction surprisingly helping soothe his nerves. Maybe it wasn’t abnormal to have these feelings? But then again, Oikawa didn’t know just how intense these feelings were. 

“Is it weird?” Iwaizumi found himself asking. “It feels weird. It’s like… I’m so in love with them, I don’t know what to do.” 

That was the first time he had ever told himself he was in love with you out loud. Hearing it with his own two ears made his stomach clench and his palms get clammy. When he pictured his future in five years, he couldn’t imagine one where you weren’t there. He wanted to see your smile, hear your laugh, be there for you when you cried. He just wanted you. And he hoped you wanted him too.

“Did you just realize that?”

“Yeah. Just earlier.”

“Hmm. And have you told them yet?” 

He shook his head. “No.” 

“Then why are you still on call with me?!” Oikawa chided. “You should be driving to Y/N and getting ready to tell them how much you love them like a gushy fool in love.” 

Iwaizumi winced at Oikawa’s blunt wording. The thought was weird. The thought was uncomfortable. He’d never been a guy who was particularly in touch with his emotions. He could rarely admit his feelings to himself— And it was even more uncommon to share those feelings with someone else. That required vulnerability and trust. 

It was terrifying. 

But for you, it was worth it. 

“Go get your beauty sleep now, Assykawa,” he said, grabbing his keys and getting ready to hang up. He shrugged on a sweater and headed out the door, heart almost bursting from nerves.

“Not that I need it,” Oikawa huffed haughtily, and Iwaizumi could just picture him flipping his hair to the side. “But I will. You go tell Y/N how you feel now.”

“I will.” He started his car. “And Oikawa…?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks.” 

Oikawa laughed dismissively. “Don’t mention it, Iwa-chan. It’s my duty to help ugly, hopeless losers who somehow managed to make someone beautiful and kind-hearted love them back.”

“Fuck you too, Trashykawa.” 

And with that, Iwaizumi ended the call with an amused eye roll. He gripped his steering wheel in determination as he let out a deep sigh, driving over to your apartment. In hindsight, maybe he should’ve given you a text before showing up unannounced, but in this moment, his thoughts were so occupied, being rational didn’t end up crossing his mind. It wasn’t uncommon for you to surprise him with an impromptu visit and he would always welcome it, but randomly dropping by with no plan had never been his style. 

He hoped it wouldn’t bother you.

Iwaizumi was so lost in his worries, he almost didn’t notice he was already parked in front of your complex and walking towards your door in minutes’ time. Slowly, he found his knuckles rapping on your door before his brain could rethink his decision and drive back home.

The front door cracked open and he heard a cute little surprised noise escape your lips.

“Hajime?” you said curiously, though your eyes lit up as you invited him in. “Did I miss a text from you? I didn’t know you were coming over tonight.” 

He scratched the back of his neck, face suddenly heating up in embarrassment. A heads up would have been the courteous thing to do. What if you were busy? Or what if you didn’t want to see him at the moment? The second thought made his stomach drop.

“Not that I mind though!” you quickly amended, smoothing out the furrow between his brows with your thumb and placing a soft kiss on the lips. Iwaizumi smiled into the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into a hug as his worries melted away. “My day always gets better when I see you.”

His fingers ran down your spine and planted his lips on the top of your head before pulling away. Smiling, you led him to the couch where you leaned into his touch. 

“Did you have something you needed? Or did you just want to hang?” 

“I just wanted to see you.”

You smiled, a shy look suddenly befalling your face as you drew circles atop Iwaizumi’s thigh. “Yeah? I was actually just thinking of you when you showed up. I thought I might’ve been daydreaming, but I guess it was just a wish come true.”

He let out a short chuckle at your sentimental words, the blush on his cheeks betraying his true pleasure at hearing them. “I can never think of anything to wish for when you’re around. It feels like I already have everything I could want when I’m with you.” 

The repetitive, gentle movements of your finger on his thigh halted as your eyes widened. “Really?” 

His first instinct was to take back what he said and distance himself. A nagging part of him told him that he said too much and shouldn’t have been so forward. But Iwaizumi swallowed his insecurities and the discomfort he felt from being vulnerable and nodded. 

“Yeah.” His voice was gruff. “Really.”

Taking note of the serious tone he spoke in, you straightened up on the sofa, angling your body so you could see his expression directly. 

“I know we’ve only been together for a few months, but I just...had to tell you that I’m in love with you. And it feels so strange to say,” he admitted, cheeks blazing red. He couldn’t even manage to bring his gaze directly to your eyes or he knew he’d grow too embarrassed to continue on without stumbling. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and, at this point, I don’t know if I’d ever feel this way about anyone else. And this in no way means you have to say you feel the same already. I just thought I should let you know how much you mean to me.”

When he finally met your eyes, he saw they were filled with unshed tears, making your irises look like they were shining. You looked up at him with such an endearing look on you, as if Iwaizumi promised he hung up all the stars in the galaxy by hand just for you. 

“I love you so much— No, I’m very much in love with you too, Hajime,” you responded, sounding overjoyed as you threw your arms around him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck while he planted a kiss on your temple. “I’m so relieved you said something now because if you hadn’t, I might’ve just blurted it out one random day.”

He snorted, teasing. “Like I did just now, you mean?”

“Well, yes, but probably not as eloquently,” you laughed. “You know, I never understood movies or shows that talked about true love or finding someone you’d actually want to spend your life with. That concept seemed so foreign to me, or like it was something so far out of reach… Until I met you.”

Spend your life with? His heart soared out of his chest at your words. He felt like he could touch the sky if he tried. 

“And it sounds so cheesy to say that!” you whined, burying your head in your hands. Iwaizumi chuckled at how cute you were as you peered through your fingers. “But though it’s cheesy, it really is the truth.” 

He hummed. “Sometimes cheesy is good.”

“Mhm.” You nodded in agreement. “I guess loving someone enough to want to be this cheesy with them is something special in itself. Because I could never imagine having moments like this with someone other than you.” 

“I couldn’t imagine this—being here, feeling this way—with anyone else either.” Iwaizumi laced his fingers through yours, stroking your thumb so softly, it was light enough to leave a ticklish tingle. “And I wouldn’t want to.” 

“Then I guess we have no choice but to make more of these cheesy memories together.” 

Iwaizumi leaned in to place his lips on yours, the both of you smiling into the chaste kiss. Even the smallest touches could light a spark within him that he never wanted to die out. 

Making memories didn’t seem so hard. Especially when they were with you. “I think we can manage that just fine.” 

[wee-wee-witch]

Inadequacy

A/N: sigh… can’t believe this started with smut part and then I wrote start of the story. I have to thank @kinsurou and @aonesteddybear who gave me the idea.

Pairing: Sukuna x reader with a side of cute boyfie Yuuji

Tags: noncon/dubcon, abo universe, breeding, choking, degradation, dumbification, hair pulling, biting

WC: 1.5k

You knew Yuuji since both of you were freshman year in college. He was so sweet the first time you met him, immediately making your young little heart melt.

Yuuji always thought you were way out of his league, mostly because you were omega, the cutest prettiest omega he ever laid his eyes on. He couldn't understand how there was no alpha walking you to and from classes. No one looked over you? Maybe you had a long distance relationship? You never gave away an alpha's scent either. Yuuji could never sniff out anything and he was the type of person that was very prideful in his sharp senses. He had a way sharper nose than most alphas did. This beta was pretty exceptional in everything that he tried, especially if it was competing at sports. That's how he earned a sports scholarship and met you in this exact university.

Could it be that you really didn't date anyone?

Time on campus was terrible if you were alone without Yuuji. Often, an older alpha would corner you somewhere without much traffic. Where students and teachers would rarely pass by. Forcefully scenting themselves on you. Beta with exceptional physical capabilities like Yuuji, whose senses rivaled the strongest of alphas could always find you and get you out of trouble.

It happened a couple more times before you finally confessed. Overjoyed that you choose him. Him! Over every alpha on the campus you really picked Yuuji!

The butterflies in his stomach dispersed soon after, when you started showing interest in claiming. Yuuji could feel your body sending him signals that it's ripe for claiming. Playing the game of chase, Yuuji managed to avoid your advances most of the time. You weren't the only one who was getting tired of his strange behavior though.

"If you don't claim her soon she'll run to another alpha, brat."

One extremely important detail that Yuuji always left out of the conversation was that he was a little bit special.

Yuuji was sharing a body with Sukuna, an alpha who was growing tired of Yuuji's antics.

Sukuna will never tell Yuuji what happened on his own, but they still share a body. His memories start to invade Yuuji’s dreams. Scenes where he can see your sweaty body under Sukuna's grasp. Your innocent face scrunching up in pleasure as Sukuna raked his nails over your scalp, running them through your hair until he reached your neck wrapping his long fingers around it. The soft protests you’d whine out, begging him to explain what's going on, only so Sukuna would slam into you even harder. Causing your voice to break and your whines to morph into full blown out crying.

He took his sweet time, placing you on his lap and telling you every little detail of your innocent little boyfriend's condition. The ambiance of short sniffles accompanying his gravelly voice. Sukuna was simply overjoyed by Yuuji's gentle nature that allowed him to corrupt you.

Thanks to the stupid brat, he was the first one to ruin your body.

It was so sweet of you to deny Sukuna the answer he desperately wanted, swaying the mattress with his thrusts. Pushing your cunt open, wider and wider, the burn of his cock trashing your weaker body.

˝Who treats you better pet?˝

He’d growl against your ear. You tried to hold your own the best you could. Resisting the pleasure shocking though your back as Sukuna’s voice hummed against your ear. With your teeth clenched you’d ignore every deep thrust, every growl, praying that Sukuna will be done soon.

Praying that you won’t disappoint your sweet Yuuji.

So virginal, so gullible. Do you really think Sukuna can’t stop himself from cumming? Snickering at your weak tries at resisting him, Sukuna places his other arm against your sensitive bud.

¨You’ll answer me now brat.˝

Sukuna bites your ear, pulling you back so you’d land in his lap. Screaming in shock from the new angle his dick is coursing at, you try to wiggle yourself out of his grasp, only to make the sensations even worse. His fingers pressing against your nub that’s soaked in slick juices, rubbing it to heighten your pleasure.

His teeth still clamped against your ear don’t stop you from shaking your head in a desperate ¨No!˝ making his tugs more painful with every desperate shake.

He couldn’t ask you to act better than this if he tried, how dumb you act in your stupid little protests, only causing more pain. Maybe you like it after all? Sukuna grins, mouth busy with your ear. Soon you’ll surrender to him.

Your head falls flat on Sukuna’s chest as he pops off his mouth from your abused ear. Your weak glare does nothing to appease him, it only makes his canines peek up more as he grins down at you. Stubborn brats like you were the best for breaking. Now with his both hands free, Sukuna squeezes you against him. Knocking the air out of you. His cock has fully barged into your womb, with his knot close to being completely engulfed by your squelching cunt.

His tip brushes against the wall of your womb, making your eyes roll back. Sukuna knows he had you as he feels your body relaxing in his grip. Your resolve is crumbling. Seeing as you had no more strength to fight him off, Sukuna removed one of his arms to grip your hair, making you look up at him.

˝Who treats you better?˝

This time his tone was way more stern, way more deep. He won’t give you any room to disobey him.

Your body feels weak, legs and hands wobbly. Sukuna is toying with you, not using an ounce of his real strength and it makes you feel so defeated. Only power you have is denying him your acknowledgement. Denying him the truth; that he really does treat you better than Yuuji. Of course he does! Sukuna is an alpha and no matter how much love you hold for Yuuji, how good he is to you, how gentle he is with you. Yuuji is still a beta.

You know that. Sukuna knows that, even Yuuji knows that, but you don’t want to crumble in front of Sukuna.

Pulling at your scalp even harsher as a warning, Sukuna is rushing you to answer.

Sniffling weakly you let out a weak mumble.

˝What was that brat?!˝ He snarls at your face.

˝Suku..na...˝ your lips wobble again, voice a bit louder this time.

˝Good!˝

Your back is thrown on the mattress as Sukuna leans over you, pushing your legs back so that he can slam into you even deeper. It’s finally time to kont you fully.

Taking a deep breath Sukuna roughly drives the rest of his knot into you. As he breathes in, your breath is forced out. A high pitched shrill diffuses in your small bedroom. Your needs are completely satiated as your cunt envelops his knot fully.

Sukuna senses your immediate change in attitude as a pair of legs draws him closer to your body. Your arms follow suit, wrapping around Sukuna’s neck where you nuzzle your sensitive nose and breathe in his scent to help you calm down from the sudden rush that Sukuna granted to you.

You two stay connected like that for a couple of more minutes, enjoying the pleasurable jolts. Sukuna is still filling you up with his seed, your jolts coaxing more seed out of his cock.

Cooing at the feeling of being full, happy and satiated with a real alpha’s knot you start to giggle into his neck. Sukuna knows that you’re still at your high, he is at it too, giggling together with you.

˝That feels nice.˝ you admit to Sukuna.

˝Oh? Does it?˝ He asks you with that sickeningly sweet voice that he often uses when taunting Yuuji.

You nod, hiding under his chin.

Wrapping an arm around your back, Sukuna places you beside him, trailing his palm gently across your naked body. The only bearable thing while residing in this body was that this beta idiot was lucky enough to score an omega like you.

Speaking of Yuuji, let’s see what kind of answer you’ll give him now, after you’ve experienced what it feels like to be knotted by a real alpha.

˝So… Who do you like more now after everything is done, pet?˝

You look up at him, the weight of things that occurred finally settling in your chest. Mouth that has been spread in a wide grin just a moment ago shrinks into a thin line.

˝He’ll… He’ll understand.˝ you conclude.

Before returning the body to Yuuji Sukuna let out a loud guffaw. Entertained by what this relationship between his vessel and omega has come to. He’s really looking forward to the conversation that soon follows after Yuuji wakes up with you in his arms, disturbed from a memory that was never his.

[loveatfirstwriteblog]

A Complete Analysis of Harry Potter

Like a lot of kids, we probably grew up on Harry potter. We were obsessed and rightly so. The universe created in the world of Harry Potter was, and is, a hugely successful one because of the fact it gave kids a world where magic exists! It seemed to be a great world to live in and it made even better with the fact that it included elements of empowerment, Whether it be showing girls can be just as successful if not more in various pursuits(Hermione), or the fact that even if you have a history of bad events, you can have a good heart(Hagrid), Harry Potter teaches us a lot.

JKR has written a mind-blowing plot in a world of magic, wizards, witches, wands, potions, friendship, love. Our inner-five-year olds--and actually most of our young adult selves too--jumps around excitedly at the beautifully penned words that creates an exit out of this world and into one where magic does exist. 

As you get older, though, you begin to think of Harry Potter in a more critical fashion. The thought of “oh my god, it’s magic” no longer completely overrides my mind, but more of “but what are the laws regarding this? Can people just do this whenever they want? Are there no ethics?” 

No matter how much we’re going to expose the flaws and plot holes in HP now, we’ll always love the books--we grew up on them! But some things just niggle you as you get older, and that’s what we’re going to be focusing on in this post.

Something I adore about the HP books is that everyone, including the “good guys”, has flaws. Harry has a “save the world alone, do first, think later” complex, a driving force that makes him go save Sirius, Ron is very, very insecure to a point where he ditches Harry twice, probably when Harry needed him the most, Hermione is a judgemental, narrow-minded nag (her thoughts on Luna, divination, Trelawney, basically anything that doesn’t fit her black and white world), Molly Weasley is misogynistic and blatantly favourites her children—probably being one of the main factors behind Ron’s insecurities, Arthur is condescending towards Muggles and makes several comments you cringe at while reading the books as a young adult/adult, Sirius, Snape, and Lupin still haven’t let go of their childhood grudges and hatred, etc etc etc. 

These flaws are what make these characters so three-dimensional, so layered, so human. But the problem was, most of these flaws are never intentionally acknowledged. And honestly, that could have been such a good character arc, because the main characters are mostly students. No student is the same through their teenage years—they change, they evolve, they get over their flaws, they try to better themselves. I would have loved to see Ron becoming his own person, Hermione opening her mind up a little, etc. 

Neville is not one of my favourites, but I love his growth and development, from someone who was scared of his potions professor to a man who faced down Lord Voldemort. Ginny Weasley could have had character development, from the trauma she went through in second year, but that was never written in.  She went through this terrifying ordeal when she was only twelve years old, and jump to a year or two later and she’s absolutely fine, with no transition from her trauma whatsoever.

Some of JKR’s characters are brilliantly written and fleshed out, but some of her others lack the structure and complexity that usually comes with being vital to the plot—Ginny Weasley for one. Her internalised misogyny also plays a huge part in the way her female characters are written. We see this again in the case of how she wrote the character of Ginny. 

Ginny Weasley is not a favourite of ours (if you don’t know that by now). She feels a lot like a convenient male daydream—when she waits for Harry to notice her by dating other guys, gets annoyed by Hermione “not knowing quidditch”, etc etc—and fits the “not like other girls” archetype too much, almost like she was made for it (hint hint). She’s portrayed to be strong-willed, spunky, and independent, and I love the idea, but I really don’t see it. To me, she’s a very shallow character, the least fleshed out one. 

Just like James Potter wasn’t necessarily redeemed just because JKR said he was, and Ginny isn’t interesting just because JKR writes that she is. 

Hermione also fits the archetype, but she’s JKR’s self-insert, so we really can’t say much about that. 

To make things worse, Ginny and Hermione are pitted against each other in a very subtle way. Ginny is the sporty, pretty, flirty girl who’s never single from book 4. Hermione is the not-conventionally-attractive, nerdy girl who’s had a few dates here and there but never a relationship. They’re very different characters (the only thing they have in common is the archetype) but they’re against each other in the defence of Harry. 

Another place where JKR’s misogyny shows up is the way other girls are written. Lavender Brown is shown as vapid and immature, just because she likes clothes and boys and didn’t know how to handle her first relationship. Cho Chang is perceived as shallow because she’s emotional. Pansy Parkinson is seen to be throwing herself at Draco Malfoy. The Weasleys hated Fleur because she was beautiful and sexy and French, and that was ever really resolved in the end (Molly accepted her, but we never got Ginny’s and Hermione’s opinions again). You see where we’re getting at? The typical “girly girls” are portrayed as insipid, shallow, emotional, and boring, while girls like Hermione and Ginny are seen to be fun and multilayered. 

The problems with Harry Potter don’t just stop with non-fleshed out characters. There are plot devices that go unacknowledged, issues like blood purity—which is the basis of Voldemort’s tyranny—are never really resolved, huge Chekhov’s guns that aren’t fired. 

A common misconception, which if cleared up could probably expose a load of problems in wizarding society by itself, is that the wizarding world is racist. It’s not racist. Muggles and Muggleborns are not a different race, they’re a different class, at least according to pureblood wizards. Mudblood is a classist insult (a direct reference to nobility blueblood and aristocracy).

Another factor that wasn’t talked about but made the HP world so complex and realistic is the inherent classism in every single pureblooded wizard, including the Weasleys.

 The “Light” wizards all operate on the notion “at least I don’t kill or torture Muggles”. The Weasleys refuse to talk about Molly’s squib cousin who’s an accountant, the Longbottoms were so desperate for Neville to not be a squib they nearly killed him trying to force magic out of him, Ron makes fun of Filch for being a squib, thinks house-elves are beneath him, and confounds his driving instructor in his mid-thirties, the ministry workers kept obliviating that muggle at the quidditch World Cup, etc. 

This could have been a metaphor for how small prejudices and microaggressions (kind of the wizarding equivalent of white privilege) enable discrimination and murder, if JKR had actually acknowledged it. 

The parallel to Nazi Germany is very twisted and definitely shouldn’t be taken too far, but the Nazi ideology grew on the basis of everyday antisemitism, “that’s not that bad” little things. Voldemort’s circle and army grew because the wizard superiority complex festered and blew up in some people, egged on by a deeply classist society. 

Ultimately, Harry Potter has very, very shoddy worldbuilding, the kind of worldbuilding that’s obsessed with answering the “what” of the wizarding world, rather than the “how” or the “why”, which is strange, considering that fantasy or dystopian-era novels’ driving plots and conflicts are usually answering the questions the worldbuilding raises--The Hunger Games and The Shadowhunter Chronicles are two of the best examples of brilliantly written YA fantasy and dystopian novels. 

In HP, however, the main plot just avoids the questions the worldbuilding brings up like the bubonic plague. 

Voldemort’s agenda is built on prejudice towards Muggles and Muggleborns, but the plot just validates the negative perception of them—at the end of the day, being a wizard is what’s special. The Statute of Secrecy is the foundation of the main concept—blood supremacists believe wizards shouldn’t be hidden away—but only vague, barely-there answers are given to why it exists (a Chekhov’s gun that was never fired). 

There are love potions that function like date rape drugs (even Harry was given one by a girl who wanted him to ask her out), potions that force people to tell the truth, potions that literally let you disguise yourself as another person, but the ethics are never talked about, and the laws are so lax that three twelve-year-olds broke them and were never caught. 

But at the same time, the worldbuilding is so authentic, because it transforms the wizarding world into straight-up fridge horror. The everyday horrors are just accepted and rolled with. A corrupt government, constant obliviation of Muggles, slavery that isn’t even talked about. These things aren’t obvious to us as readers, or to the wizards as characters, because they match up to the real world, which is filled with things that are horrifying if you dig deeper. The multiple, normalised forms of abuse, police brutality, the violence in prisons that nothing is done about, the glaringly obvious cultural problems we have with consent, etc. 

The abusive authoritative figures in HP, like Rufus Scrimgeour, Cornelius Fudge, Dumbledore, Umbridge, etc, are so authentic because real-life politicians and people in high places of power behave that way, and their abuse is excused. 

The wizarding world is just like the real world. Corrupt, prejudiced, messed up, but if you’re privileged, or at least have certain privileges, you’re probably not going to notice. The ultimate problem is that the plot doesn’t acknowledge a lot of fridge horror things are messed up either, which is why it miserably fails. 

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

drive you crazy

summary: there’s absolutely no way you and Matt have feelings for each other, right?

warnings: mentions of past drinking 

word count: 5.1k

note from the writer: my love for sam and rasmus really jumped out in this one, huh. let me know what you think!

Matthew Tkachuk was a constant presence in your life no matter how much you wished he wasn’t. He was loud, cocky, and it absolutely did not help that he knew just exactly how attractive he was.

Not that you found him attractive, of course.

When your roommate and closest friend, Jen, started dating Matt’s teammate Sam Bennett, you were introduced to a whole roster of boys. They were all nice enough, and you quickly developed close friendships with a few. Except, well—

“Matt’s here, and I need you to entertain him.”

“No, absolutely not.” You put your foot down, not caring how much you sounded like a child. Jen pouted, slipping fully into your room and shutting the door. It did little to block out the sound of two raucous hockey players laughing at something in your living room.

“This is the third time this week Matt has crashed our date night and I really need you to just get him out of my hair.” Jen pleaded, sitting on the edge of your bed. You were under the covers, the next episode of your favorite show queued up on your laptop. The last thing you needed was to have Matthew ruin your evening.

“Can’t you just tell him to leave?” You argued, pointing out the obvious while ignoring the blatant fact that Matthew was stubborn and would never be convinced to do something if he truly didn’t want to.

“He won’t listen to us, you need to tell him.” You couldn’t hide the roll of your eyes at her words.

“And what makes you think he’ll listen to me?” If you had known what Jen’s response would be before you asked the question, you would have kept your mouth shut. Instead, you watched in confusion as a grin grew across her face, the one that you knew meant nothing but trouble.

“Because he’s like, in love with you.”

And that was truly something funny, because it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You laughed loudly, knowing there was absolutely no way that he liked you, let alone loved. Your dynamic with the curly-haired forward was defined by constant bickering and backhanded comments—not loving glances and hidden feelings.

“I’m serious! He’ll do anything you say.” Jen added, sensing your disbelief. This was far from the first time she had alluded to Matt’s so-called feelings for you, but she never had been so direct.

“Yeah, right.” You snorted. Jen didn’t say anything at first, and instead shot you a challenging look and stood from the edge of your bed. Her smug look never once waverd as she opened your bedroom door, and without looking away from you called out to the boys in your living room.

“Matt! Can you go with Y/N to the grocery store?” You rolled your eyes at her question. You didn’t need to go to the grocery store, it was just a rouse so she and Sam could have some alone time. Why they couldn’t just go to his place, you weren’t sure, but you were torn out of your thoughts when Matt’s response came soon after.

“Yeah, does she need a babysitter?” His voice was light and it was clear that he was teasing, but you found yourself pouting. Jen grinned, gesturing wordlessly to you as if she was declaring victory in the situation. You hadn’t considered it a competition, but if it was, you figured she was far from winning.

“That doesn’t prove anything.” You huffed, shutting your laptop. As much as you didn’t want to go, you knew from the moment Jen asked you that you would. She was your best friend, and if spending some time with Matthew meant she got some alone time with her boyfriend she already struggled to see as a result of hectic schedules, you would put up with the menace.

“Mhm.” Jen hummed, clearly not believing a word you said. Before either of you could say anything else, your door was pushed the rest of the way open and Matt was standing in your doorway, his typical smug grin on his face.

“It’s nine o’clock and you’re already in pajamas?” He teased upon spotting the sleepshorts and oversized t-shirt you had put on. Making your way to the closet, you briefly acknowledged Jen shooting you one last look before slipping out.

“Not all of us need to stay out every night.” You shot back, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt to wear as a defense against the Calgary cold. Tossing the clothes on your bed, you turned to see Matt still standing in your doorway. “Can you leave so I can get changed?”

“Are you sure you want me to leave?” Cocky smirk on full display, it took everything in you not to throw something at him.

“Matthew.” You warned with a glare leveled at him. He raised his hands as if he was claiming innocence, and you rolled your eyes at his response.

“Kidding.” He chuckled lowly, before finally leaving the room. You sighed once the door was shut, running your hands down your face to try and rid yourself of the image of Matt grinning handsomely.

It’s Matthew, you reminded yourself. The same Matthew that took joy in critiquing every guy you mentioned you were interested in with a harshness you had only seen in his eyes on the ice. Not that you paid much attention to him while he was on the ice. The point was, you should not be letting Jen’s words get to you.

Matt didn’t like you, he liked annoying you.

Hurrying to get changed, you met Matt waiting for you in the hallway outside your bedroom. He had been mindlessly scrolling through his phone, but upon hearing your door open and shut, he shoved the device into his pocket and looked to you with a grin so wide he rivalled the Cheshire Cat.

“Ready?” You questioned, hoping to avoid finding out what exactly was making him so smug and keep things civil. You weren’t sure exactly how long you were supposed to entertain Matt, but you’d rather spend as little time with him bickering as possible.

“Nice sweatshirt.” He commented, and you had to look down and see which one you grabbed. It was an old Flames one that didn’t even technically belong to you. You weren’t sure why Matt was so smug about seeing you supporting his team, since you’d been to your fair share of games.

“Thanks, Rasmus gave it to me when I spent the night at his a few weeks ago after we all went drinking.” You explained absentmindedly. While you spoke, you began heading towards the front door, so you missed the way Matt’s expression fell. You did see Jen’s smug grin, and watched Sam shoot Matt a look you didn’t have time to decipher. “See you guys later.” You waved with one hand while the other reached up to grab your car keys. Before you could get them off the hook, though, Matt’s hand shot forward and snatched them up.

“I’m driving.” He grinned. A dozen and one protests came to mind, but you chose to simply roll your eyes and head out the door. You heard Jen shout something along the lines of ‘use protection’ before she was shut out by the door, and you opted to ignore her teasing. You glanced at Matt out of the corner of your eye, and to your surprise you noticed a faint blush on his cheeks.

You scrolled through your phone as you waited for the elevator, trying to ignore the fact that your perfect evening plans of a night in were ruined by Matt. Well, Matt and Jen. The elevator arrived and only once you were both inside and the doors were shut, did Matt clear his throat to get your attention.

“So what do you need at the store?” He sounded genuinely curious, and you couldn’t help but snort at his question. The sound drew a smile out of him, and you briefly wondered why your heart fluttered as it did. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t need anything, Jen just wanted me to get you out of the apartment so you’ll stop third-wheeling her and Sam.” You explained with a lightness to your voice that usually wasn’t present when you were with Matt. He let out a loud laugh just as the elevator doors opened, and you followed him out.

“Well, I’m not going to hang out at a grocery store if you don’t need anything.” He explained as he led the way out of your building and towards where your car was always parked. You watched in curiosity as he moved to the passenger side of your car, and your brows tugged together in confusion as Matt opened your door for you.

“What are you doing?” You asked skeptically. You were certain there was going to be some joke in there somewhere, but you couldn’t find it and he didn’t seem like sharing it.

“Being a gentlemen?” He replied with just as much confusion as you. You tried to hide the way your lips quirked up in a grin, but he noticed and repeated the action himself.

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that.” You quipped as you climbed into the passenger seat. Matt didn’t take your comment too seriously, and instead you heard him chuckle as he gently shut your door. In the time it took for him to go around the car and get in on the driver’s side, you thought about why he was being so nice.

Maybe Jen did have a point.

No, he was Matt and you were you. You weren’t exactly friends, so you definitely weren’t anything more. But the way he was acting was definitely something more. Your heart started to race and you wanted to kick yourself, but you couldn’t exactly do anything about it as the driver’s side door opened and Matt slipped in.

“So, where are we going then?” You asked, hoping the mundane question would help calm your sudden and completely new nerves. Except, the universe was apparently not on your side, because in response Matt shot you a wide grin and you felt a circus of butterflies flutter inside you that had never been there before.

“It’s a surprise.” He told you, backing out of your parking spot. You busied yourself with plugging the aux cord into your phone and picking music, giving yourself time to compose yourself.

“I don’t like surprises, Matthew.” You replied, hoping that now since the silence in the car was filled by music, it wouldn’t be so awkward.

“You can call me Matt, you know.” He told you, casting a glance towards you with an unreadable expression in his eye before focusing back on the road. Your brows tugged together in confusion at his words, and he must have seen the look on your face because he elaborated before you had the chance to voice anything. “You always call me Matthew, but you can call me Matt.”

“Okay, well, Matt,” you emphazied, drawing a laugh out of him. “I don’t like surprises.”

“I’ll give you a hint. It’s someplace we’ve both been together.” And while you still were confused about where he was taking you, it certainly narrowed the list down. There wasn’t a lot of places you had been with Matt, considering that you and him were little more than people who bickered often and happened to share close mutual friends. There wasn’t even a title for the type of relationship you and Matt had.

“You’re not taking me to a bar, are you? It’s a Tuesday, Matt.” You groaned, jumping to conclusions about where he was taking you. If you were hanging out with him outside your apartment, it usually meant everyone was going out drinking. And since your apartment was currently off limits, you assumed he was taking you to the usual bar he and the boys always picked.

“It’s not a bar.” He chuckled brightly at your response. You couldn’t help it, you found your self smiling softly at him as he focused on the road. Calgary’s night lights lit up his face and you distantly wondered if that was the reason he had been driving you crazy all night—a different type of crazy than he usually made you. You knew you were in danger when the corners of his lips turned up in the smug way they typically did, but it was too late. “You’re staring.”

“Am not.” You defended childishly. At this point, you were just trying to save face. He chuckled at this, turning his attention fully to you. It was then that you realized that at some point, Matt had pulled into a parking spot and you hadn’t even noticed.

“You’ve been staring.” He teased, smug look on his face that you couldn’t argue because no matter how much it pained you to admit, he was right. Instead, you opted to roll your eyes and look at where Matt had taken you.

“Frank and Mary’s?” You questioned, unrestrained glee in your voice as your head whipped from the diner to Matt. Frank and Mary’s was a hole in the wall diner that you frequented while either drunk or hungover, and one time you had dragged not only Sam and Jen there one night, but Matt and a litany of others. It was your favorite, and you remember telling the others that countless times.

“I figured we could get milkshakes and fries and not tell my trainer about it.” You laughed at this, a real and genuine laugh and Matt’s grin turned into a real and genuine smile. “Good idea, right?”

“You were bound to have one eventually.” You teased, though there was no trace of malice in your words. Matt smiled at you for a moment longer, his gaze softening and you felt his studying his face. You coudn’t get mad at him for it, you had been caught staring at him only moments earlier, but it was more than that. You didn’t want to get mad at him for it.

“Let’s go inside, yeah?” He cleared his throat, looking anywhere but you. A frown etched by confusion found home on your features as you tried to understand his change in behavior. Nonetheless, you got out of your car after him, smiling politely as he held the diner door open for you.

You picked a booth to sit in, and Matt didn’t complain as he sat opposite you. The time before the waitress arrived was spent silently shedding coats and avoiding the other’s eye. You smiled politely as the waitress set two menus on the table and got her notepad out to write down orders.

“What can I get you guys?” She asked sweetly, looking between you and Matt. You opened your mouth to order, but he beat you to it.

“Two chocolate milkshakes and an order of fries, please.” He said, handing her the menus back. You nodded, affirming that was your order before she slipped away to start making them. You raised a brow at Matt, a wordless question of why he knew your order. “You may have mentioned they’re your favorite once or twice the night you dragged us here.”

“They’re really good.” You defended meekly, having a hard time forming a thought that wasn’t why would he remember that and other things about him that weren’t useful at the moment. Matt chuckled, and for a moment it was quiet again. You smiled softly at him, and he readily returned it, but something flashed in his eyes as his gaze fell to the sweatshirt you were currently wrapped up in.

“So, you and Rasmus, huh?” He tried to sound nonchalant, but you heard an edge in his tone. Your brows scrunched together in confusion as you tried to understand the meaning of his words, and when it clicked, your eyes widened.

“There is no me and Rasmus. We’re just friends.” You assured him, unsure of why you felt a need to make it clear to him that you weren’t seeing one of his teammates, or anyone, for that matter. He was Matthew, the guy that drove you crazy and annoyed you with his constant teasing comments. The guy that was always at your apartment, third wheeling Jen and Sam until they either kicked him out or he found his way to your room to bother you.

The guy you wouldn’t mind kissing every once in while.

“You sure about that?” Matt questioned with a ghost of his usual smug grin, dragging you out of your earth-shattering thoughts. You wanted to kiss Matthew. You wanted to kiss Matthew. You. Matthew. You and Matthew.

Well, that was a problem.

“Yes, I’m sure, you dick.” You teased, hoping your words didn’t reflect that you were freaking out. That you weren’t going crazy about the idea that maybe all your so-called annoyance at him was just some ploy to cover up your feelings for him, a ploy so clever that not even you knew about it. “Guys don’t like me like that.”

“Well, that’s not true.” Matt interrupted your mental panic, because you absolutely had not meant to voice that to him. It was a subtle confession about how he didn’t like you like that, Rasmus and any other guy being the furthest thing from your mind.

“What?” You questioned rapidly, hoping that maybe he was making a not-quite confession like you had. That maybe he liked you and he wasn’t just trying to be nice.

“Hm?” He hummed, as if he hadn’t said anything and suddenly all your hopes came crashing down around you. Both of you were saved from having to come up with something to say, because just then the waitress returned.

“So, is this date night?” She made small talk as she set the first milkshake in front of you. You weren’t sure who was flushed more, you or Matt, but either way you were rushing to shake your head while he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Nope.” Matt’s smile was tight as his gaze met yours in a moment that felt charged with something you couldn’t place. “We’re just friends.”

You had two weeks to figure out why the statement made your stomach twist the way it did. Two weeks before you saw Matt again.

“Matt’s coming tonight.”

“Okay.” You told Jen, not looking up from your phone as you scrolled through it on the couch. You didn’t have to look up to see the confused look she gave you, and when you saw her out of the corner of your eye stand before you with her hands on her hips, you sighed and looked up.

“Okay? What do you mean okay? You’re never okay when Matt’s here.” She questioned, and you couldn’t help the grin that made it’s way onto your face at the way she was so perplexed by you being nice to Matt.

“Aren’t you the one that wants me to be friends with him?” You teased, locking your phone and dropping the device into your lap. An expesperated look crossed Jen’s face, and you felt as if you were being scolded by a parent.

“No, I want you to be more than friends with him. And I need that to happen tonight because I have a bet with Sam and—” She started explaining, and you sat up as she piqued your curiosity with her last few words.

“What? You have a bet on Matt and I?” You asked, waving hand around to cut off her rambling.

“Yes, because it’s so obvious that you two belong together!” She didn’t even pretend to be ashamed by her actions, and you couldn’t find it in you to be mad at her. After all, you did have a similar bet going on when she and Sam first started seeing eachother—but that was different. Sam clearly liked her, while Matt was just another of your friends.

“You’re ridiculous.” You told her flatly, leaning back against the couch once more. She scoffed at this, reminding you once more that somehow you ended up in a position to be scolded by her like you were a child.

“And you’re blushing.”

“Am not!” If you weren’t before, you definitely were then, and you wanted nothing more than to have the ground open up and swallow you whole. So what if the idea, however unlikely, of Matt liking you made you flushed. You were only human, after all.

“Mhm, keep denying it.” She hummed, clearly amused by the whole situation. You shook your head, grabbing your phone and standing from the couch. You began your retreat to your room, Jen hot on your heels.

“I don’t have a thing for Matt, he drives me crazy.” You told her, a little white lie. Because he did drive you crazy, but no longer in the ‘he’s so annoying, I want him leave’ way, but in a ‘he’s so annoying, I want him’ way.

“That’s because you—” She called after you, grin evident in her tone despite not even looking at her.

“Don’t finish that.” You warned, sitting on the edge of your bed. Your suspicions had been correct, Jen was grin smugly ear to ear and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“I’m just saying!” She defended herself, as if she was innocent in the situation. You shot her a pointed look, but decided to not comment further.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to be in my room, I’m not up for hanging out tonight.” You sighed. It wasn’t a lie, you weren’t in the mood to be around everyone after a tiresome day at work and an exhausting two weeks dealing with your unrequited feelings for Matt. Jen pouted, but knew when to back off. She sent you a pitiful smile and told you to have fun, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. With one last look, she slipped out of your room and shut your door behind her.

As soon as she was gone, you changed into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, a considerable upgrade from the uncomfortable work clothes you had previously been wearing. Crawling into bed, you opened your laptop and put on your favorite show. It didn’t take long for your mind to wander, especially when you heard the boys and Jen laughing at something in the living room. From what you could tell, it was more than just Matt and Sam, recognizing the voices of Johnny, Sean, and Rasmus before a knock at your bedroom door startled you.

“Come in.” You called, only half surprised to see Matt stick his head in the door. He grinned at you, and you waited for the comment about you being antisocial and curled up in bed, but it never came.

“Why aren’t you out with everyone?” He asked, sounding genuinely curious. He stepped into the room fully, and you feared he could hear your heart pounding as he shut the door behind him.

“I don’t feel like it tonight.” You explained with a shrug. “Why aren’t you?”

“I wanted to see you.” He explained as if it was that simple. As if your mind currently wasn’t racing a thousand miles a minute to try and decipher what that meant. He sat on the edge of your bed, body turned towards you. You noticed a faint blush on his cheeks, and you briefly wondered if you looked just as flustered. “I’m kinda waiting for you to tell me to leave.”

“Would you even listen if I told you that?” You grinned, watching with a warm feeling in your chest as his smile widened and he chuckled.

“Is that an invitation to stay?” He hummed before kicking off his shoes and standing. And, well, you didn’t exactly say no as he pulled back the edge of your comforter and climbed in beside you. Before you really knew it, you were curled into Matt’s chest with his arm around you as he sat up against your headboard, laptop playing a show you truly couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to anymore.

Your head was tucked under his chin with a hand resting on his chest. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, but also the rapid beating of his heart. You tried not to think that maybe you were making him nervous, because that would just lead to you getting your hopes up. Instead, you focused on the way his fingers were trailing absentmindedly up and down your arm, the other resting innocently on the crook of your knee that he had hitched across his lap shortly after laying down.

It was another two episodes before the silence was broken between you and Matt for something more than him making a comment about the characters or how he was completely lost on the plot. Two of the characters in the show were confessing their love for each other, and as soon as the scene started, you felt Matt’s already rapidly beating heart increase in pace. Deciding you throw caution to the wind, you called his name softly. He only hummed in response, eyes glued to the screen, so you paused the show and called his name again. This time, you earned his full attention, brows drawn together in confusion in such an adorable way you felt your confidence slipping away.

Now or never, you thought.

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” You asked, and then immediately wanted to kick yourself. It wasn’t the question you wanted to ask, but it was better than nothing, you supposed. You weren’t expecting Matt you laugh, though, and hold you just a little bit tighter to avoid having to answer. Your hand settled back over his heart to prove to yourself it really was beating abnormally fast, and when he wouldn’t meet your gaze, you called his name again. “Matty.”

And if you thought that his heart was beating quickly before, after the simple nickname fell past your lips, you thought he’d explode.

“It’s ‘cause of you.” He mumbled, your own heart picking up in pace. He was suddenly being shy, and you were certain you had never seen Matthew Tkachuk shy, at all, ever.

“What?” You asked for clarification, not wanting to get ahead of yourself. All signs were pointing towards what you hoped for, but you needed to be certain.

“You drive me crazy.” He confessed, his blue eyes finally meeting yours head on. You propped yourself up on your elbow so your face was level with him, and even though he was right beside you with an arm around you, you felt miles away as you tried to process what he said.

“Matthew…” You said softly after a moment, knowing that you needed to say something. He must have interpreted your lack of response as something bad, because the hopeful look on his face fell and he began backtracking.

“I know that I annoy you and that you don’t like me, but I had to tell you. I can go—” He started, and when he grabbed the covers as if to climb out of your bed you snapped to reality, grabbing his hand and effectively halting his movements.

“Matthew.” You stated, a lot more firmer than you had moments before. A grin grew on your face, and you saw his shoulders visibly relax. “Shut up for a moment, please?” A smile toyed with the corners of his lips and he nodded, but otherwise he complied. “You do annoy me.”

A puzzled look crossed his face—that clearly wasn’t what he thought you’d say.

“You’re annoying and yet, somehow, that’s endearing. We bicker and tease each other but at the end of the day I don’t actually hate you. And I don’t think I could ever actually hate you.” Your confession was quiet, and as you finished you used your free hand to cup his jaw. He leaned into your touch slightly, the simple act nearly melting you entirely. “You drive me crazy, too, Matthew.”

It was almost as if he couldn’t stop himself then, surging forward to connect your lips in a kiss you hadn’t realized you had been waiting months for. He was much more gentler than you thought he would be, but as the kiss went on he had you pressed into the mattress. When he finally pulled away so you both could catch your breath, he was hovering over you, bracing himself with his arms so not to lay his full weight on you.

“A good crazy, I hope.” Matt teased, grin wide and happy before he ducked down for another kiss. You giggled against his lips, revelling in the way you felt ten times lighter after confessing your feelings. Knowing that how you felt was reciprocated washed away any worries you had, and the smile you wore was truly genuine.

“A very good crazy.” You affirmed, looking at him with adoration. You brushed your hand through his curls that you wished he would grow out and take better care of, your hand settling on the back of his neck to gently guide him down for another kiss. You were so lost in Matthew that you didn’t hear your door open.

“I called it!” Jen announced loudly, causing Matt to roll off of you in shock. You glared at your roommate while the rest of the boys groaned, muttering complaints about how Jen won the bet or how Matt should have just waited a few days.

“Jen!” You threatened while flustered. Matt dropped his head back against your pillows, clearly annoyed at his teammates for interrupting while you were just embarrassed. It wasn’t a big deal, you knew, but it wasn’t exactly enjoyable having your roommate walk in on you making out with someone. Especially the someone she had been trying to get you to go out with for what seemed like forever.

“We’re leaving. You two have fun.” Sam winked at Matt, and when Matt shot you a look, you frowned and swatted at his shoulder. He laughed at your response, letting you know he had been just teasing.

“Use protection!” Jen shouted her favorite line as Sam pulled her out of the room and Johnny shut the door with a smug grin you weren’t used to seeing from him. You groaned as soon as your friends left, flopping back against your pillows and earning a chuckle from Matt.

“I change my mind.” You huffed, grabbing Matt’s hand and toying with his fingers to distract yourself from your friend’s interruption. He shot you a curious look, and your heart raced at the thought that he was finally yours. “They drive me crazy.”

“As long as I’m the only one that gets to kiss you.” He mumbled, having already leant down to connect your lips together. You hummed against him, fingers curling into his hair as he pulled back slightly to admire you.

“That, you are.”

[romanticchemacademic]

Dear future health professionals and stem professors,

We need a revolution of thought. Only through a renaissance of pure and genuine passion towards medicine and other sciences will we have competent doctors, nurses, other healthcare workers, and teachers. We live in a world where people pursue noble professions for the sake of social and economic advancement. However, we lack individuals who love the process of learning and their career.

I recollect quite a marvelous excerpt written by one of the world’s greatest scientific minds, Albert Einstein. In his book, The World As I see It he writes:

ACADEMIC CHAIRS ARE MANY, but wise and noble teachers are few; lecture rooms are numerous and large, but the number of young people who genuinely thirst for truth and justice is small. Nature scatters her common wares with a lavish hand, but the choice sort she produces but seldom.

We all know that, so why complain? Was it not ever thus and will it not ever thus remain? Certainly, and one must take what nature gives as one finds it. But there is also such a thing as a spirit of the times, an attitude of mind characteristic of a particular generation, which is passed on from individual to individual and gives a society its particular tone. Each of us has to do his little bit towards transforming this spirit of the times.

Compare the spirit which animated the youth in our universities a hundred years ago with that prevailing today. They had faith in the amelioration of human society, respect for every honest opinion, the tolerance for which our classics had lived and fought. 

  I believe that one of the faults lies within education institutions. Educators rely on testing, textbooks, and detached memorized lectures. Lectures lack passion and another essential factor: the real practice. The theory is important but the practice is necessary to understand the theory. But without passion, nobody will learn to love the material being taught. Ibn Sina is known for being one of the greatest physicians and teachers of Islamic medicine. I am not completely sure whether what I am about to mention is true. But I read that when he lectured theory to the medical students at the Madrassa (University) he would show them how it worked. Besides medical history and theory. He also taught physics, astronomy, philosophy, and mathematics. However, he is also famed for being an excellent teacher duly because he would take his students to test out the theories and practice what they have been taught. If they were learning medical theory, they were taken to the hospital to observe patients and their cases. If they were learning astronomy, they would all gather in the evening to look up at the heavens to look at the constellations. Lastly, his passion for his vocation was the final touch. Educators without the drive cannot teach. Learning is about understanding oneself, others, and the world. Learning evolves our minds and our spirits by making us get in harmony with the universe. I believe this ties in with Aristotle’s famous saying, “The unexamined life is not worth living”. Though my interpretation may be a wee bit off, I translate it as thus; we can gather all textbook knowledge as possible but if we do not put into practice the knowledge learned, what is the point? I yearn and I pine to experience all that I have learned. I want to see why the theory makes sense in reality. I want to conduct experiments. So much potential is being wasted. Biology is the study of life. However, when I took the course, it was so cold to a point that it did not even feel like I was studying the human body but something alien instead. There is also such a rush to memorize material within a couple of weeks because of exams that the material ceases to be interesting and becomes more of an arduous chore instead. Our sense of time-shifted completely after the industrial revolution. Perhaps this is a reason why we feel the need to rush through everything and not take our time to study profoundly. 

We need another Scientific Revolution, curious minds thirsting for the acquisition of knowledge and unanswered questions. However, I believe that the leading force behind this is a necessity. I would like to mention an example to illustrate what I mean from a novel I read a while ago called, The Physician by Noah Gordon. A boy from Medieval Europe lost his mother from an unknown disease leaving him orphaned. He then grew up with the necessity to learn what the disease was and how to prevent other similar deaths, so that others do not suffer what he has suffered. He then worked with Barbers (people who performed medical procedures in Medieval Europe). But the medical knowledge these professionals had was not enough to answer his question. Thus, he traveled to Persia where there was a quite renowned and exclusive medical school. He did not have the economic means or previous schooling to attend but he impressed the headmaster with his passion and knowledge. Thus, the headmaster admitted him into the Madrassa. The European boy then invested all his time doing research, dissections and treating patients until he finally found out what ailment caused his mother’s death, side sickness (appendicitis). He figured out a way to treat this illness, removal of the appendix. From his initial necessity which was the driving force for him to pursue a medical career, he became a famous physician and felt that all his suffering and odyssey were worthwhile. The sense of necessity leads to the feeling of passion. It was his love for his mother that made him follow such a journey full of obstacles. I am beginning to apply that to my own life. I want to figure out my necessity which will be the driving force to power through university and medical school without ever feeling burnt out. I want to feel fulfilled. I believe this is what all pre-medical students and teachers should think about. What is your necessity? We are going to be dealing with human life, someone’s mother, father, friend, sister, uncle, lover, husband, or child...It is not something to be taken lightly. I know so many doctors lacking empathy because they went into the medical field with just the intention of being acknowledged as “Doctors” and getting rich. But I feel that even the most apathetic healthcare workers can become great empathetic professionals the moment they realize that something was triggered deep inside them, perhaps a loved one having an unknown disease. This would lead the apathetic doctor to do mass amounts of research to try to find a cure. This feeling becomes a necessity. A necessity to not lose the loved one. A necessity to save lives. Thus, finding passion, purpose, and becoming a better person. Though each person is different, we all share a selfish feeling. Most of the time we do not truly care about other peoples’ suffering until it happens to us. Once we are affected by something, we drive all our time and attention to find a solution or a way to deal with a problem. We become consumed and completely obsessed by it. I regard this as passion. I do not think passion subsides, it lingers on inside us. It is a fire that never burns out. I remember my high school teacher writing in my yearbook:

Remember a few things, BE PATIENT. You are eager and you will accomplish so much. But take your time, you are always rushing. Life is a journey, it is not about the destination. Be picky. You love everything with enthusiasm but enthusiasm can burn out. Find a fire inside yourself that burns for a long time.

-V

We cannot rush our personal legend. I believe it comes to us. It is Maktub (it’s written). But we also have to do something. Imagine you are on a stranded island but you have a machete, a fishing rod, coconuts, a cave for shelter, wood for a fire, an ocean full of fish. Everything required for survival is there, but you simply have to cut open the coconut with the machete, go fishing for food, fire to cook, and warmth. The fish isn’t going to swim right into your hands and the fire will not light itself. We must use our resources and do our bit. The Universe has a lot going on, we must help out a bit.

If you ever think about quitting, try to remember what made you start your odyssey in the first place. I do not know what my necessity is yet but that is okay. I believe it will come to me eventually. So for now, I simply love to romanticize academia. I like to imagine the: earthy tones of the universities archways, cobblestone paths, laboratories with clean Erlenmeyer flasks, beakers, pristine white lab coats, bunsen burner flames changing colors as different salts are added, Bromothymol Blue pen stains, elegant calculations inside a worn leather-bound notebook, formulas scrawled over the blackboard, forgotten cold Irish breakfast tea on the desk, academics discussing theories, applause from a successful experiment, gray rainy days spent inside the lab, Whitman, Hemingway, et Sir Arthur Conon Doyle being read during break, intellectual conversations with professors, chemistry reports being written, molecular models built, volumes of ancient words, fire slowly burning in the stone fireplace, trying to understand, looking at the constellations on a clear night in the astronomy tower, reciting poetry, Tchaikovsky playing whilst completing a long lab report on Lê Chatelier’s theory of Equilibrium, curious minds, sleepless evenings in the library, beautiful anatomical illustrations...Just imagining these things motivate and inspire me to continue my path. Though it may seem superficial, it awakens something inside me. I yearn and I pine to become a Chemistry Romantic. 

I want to conclude this letter by saying that pupils and educators keep ideals alive and can change them accordingly as well. We have the power to become excellent professionals or simply exist and do nothing for the human race. But if you plan on becoming a physician or educator, you must find the trigger which brings your passion to life, your necessity. Once you find that, you are guaranteed greatness and fulfillment. However, do not rush. Perfection takes time. A couple of obstacles should not hinder you from persevering. Many will tell you to give up but do not. That is the Universe testing you. Do your best until you master the topic. Once you know better, you are then able to do better. 

Regards,

Confessions from a Chemistry Academic