#let them sa-si if they can speak no better

[soothingmoonlight]

The change from þ to s was a political move no matter how much any Noldo or Indis of the Vanyar try to deny it. And it was in fact a very unfortunate and unwise change that actually damaged the Quenya language. Were it not for the strife in the house of Finwë, the thorn would have been kept as all the lore masters agreed with Fëanor's opinion on the matter.

"Into the strife and confusion of loyalties in that time this seemingly trivial matter, the change of þ to s, was caught up to its embitterment, and to lasting detriment to the Quenya tongue. Had peace been maintained there can be no doubt that the advice of Fëanor, with which all the other lore-masters privately or openly agreed, would have prevailed." - Shibboleth of Fëanor, HoME XII, The Peoples of Middle-Earth

Regardless of how people in the fandom delight in mocking Fëanor and saying he had a lisp, the truth is that he was the one who spoke proper Quenya. He wanted to keep both 'þ' and 's' as both letters surve a purpose and are needed in order to speak the language correctly. Þ (the thorn) is not an alternative pronunciation for 's' . Imagine making the same change in the English language and substituting all the 'th' sounds with 's' sounds and notice how many words would change their meaning e.g. þink [think] -> sink.

Idea for the poll submitted by anonymous – slightly altered.

[jesncin]

The Portrayal of Noah Ikumelo's Disability in Spurrier's Hellblazer and Dead in America run

Noah Ikumelo is a divisive new character introduced in Si Spurrier's 2019-2020 Hellblazer 12 issue solo (illustrated by Aaron Campbell and Matias Bergara, colors by Jordie Bellaire), he continues appearing as a recurring character in Hellblazer Dead In America (2024, 11 issues) Spurrier's long awaited continuation of his original run. Introduced in the very first issue as a Black, mute (hearing, but unable to orally speak) teenager who predominantly uses BSL to communicate.

We'll be discussing how Noah's disability was portrayed, how effective it was narratively, and thoroughly analyze the limits and ableist biases comics have as a visual language. Spoilers for Spurrier's Hellblazer and Dead In America run below. CW for ableism, racism, SA, police brutality, and general violence.

Disclaimer!! I am an able-bodied person with only occasional interactions with the Deaf community and am still studying ASL in my own time. All of these observations are made from an outsider perspective. I feel that starting a critical discussion from any source of knowledge for other more informed perspectives to follow up on is better than having no discussion at all.

However! I can offer some valuable perspective as a ~classically/formally trained~ comic artist- because we'll be discussing some inherit biases with how comic artists are trained to illustrate communication in this visual medium. I'll also be talking about lettering, which I'm nitpicky about so if I'm an expert on anything, it's those things.

I won't be going through each issue in as much detail as these first few issues for the sake of set up, but I will stop every now and then to discuss the portrayal of some scenes.

Let's start with Noah's very first appearance in Hellblazer 2019 #1. Noah is introduced as one of the very young members of a gang called the Ri-Boys. He's tasked with kidnapping a magic specialist to help get rid of murderous angelic spirits in their local park that are getting in the way of their prime location for selling drugs. He kidnaps John Constantine, who is quickly informed that Noah is mute.

Noah doesn't sign at all in this first issue, opting instead to communicate with a little notebook tied around his neck.

Despite K-Mag's (the gang leader) justification for recruiting teenagers as a "refuge" from a world that hates them, he's not afraid to treat Noah as disposable. He opts to send Noah's able-bodied friend (named Isa) on an errand instead of Noah because they "don't need no tongueless splesh backin' on ops-" and threatening Noah's life in order to get John to cooperate. So narratively the set up is clear: even though this gang is meant to provide jobs for the marginalized, it's still a bigoted organization that doesn't treat Noah well.

After accompanying John to the park where the angelic spirits murder another junkie, Noah is so traumatized by what he witnesses that he throws up on his notebook- rendering it unusable. Issue #2 starts with Noah raving in BSL (the image at the very top of this essay) to his gang mates that ignore him. When John asks if anyone knows sign language, he gets no response. It's clear that Noah is an outsider even among the Ri-Boys. Regardless, by the end of the issue in the following day, Noah is back to using his notebook (I guess he got a new one).

So. The notebook. I'll be honest I hate the notebook. It's such a clunky thing for Noah to carry around his neck, and it's clearly a set up so that Noah throws up on it and can't communicate to people who don't know sign.

On personal experience alone, I've been able to communicate with deaf people through texts on a shared phone. We'd just pull up notepad and write to each other to bridge the language barrier. And (as I've been informed by @scoliwings!) if phones running out of batteries is the worry, there's also pocket-sized boogie boards as a handy means of communication. At the very least Noah canonically has a phone (he is texting John in the panel above), and the Ri-boys can afford an ipad that K-Mag uses. These boogie board devices are much more affordable than either of those items and far better than a notebook.

Throughout Spurrier's treatment of Noah's disability, there will continue to be a sense of "we haven't even exhausted basic options to bridge a language barrier yet-" and this one is the first instance of that.

[this is not how the panels look in the comic, I chopped and arranged the last panel to save up on tumblr blog image space]

To keep this essay focused on Noah's disability, by issue #3 after some plot stuff progresses, John reveals to Noah that he actually can understand BSL. It turns out he knows "a bit" of BSL from a relationship he had with a deaf man in the 90s. Regardless, throughout Spurrier's whole run, John is shown to understand Noah's signing fluently. You might be wondering why John kept this a secret. Was he withholding his understanding of BSL so he could "eavesdrop" on something Noah signs to his friends without knowing? Nope. This reveal had no narrative purpose; John gained nothing from hiding this from everyone and it retroactively makes earlier scenes weirder. John just decides to reveal this to Noah for no other reason than to be a jerk I guess?

Once John fixes the "murderous angels in the park" problem, he also convinces K-Mag to let go of Noah from the Ri-Boys gang so that Noah can live a more honest life going to school (we will never see this) and uh. Being John's new personal driver. John used to have a friend, Chas, who drove him around everywhere but with Chas gone now- Noah is narratively set up to take his place.

Eagle-eyed readers might notice something odd about the way the scene where John reveals to Noah that he understands BSL is staged: if John supposedly understands what Noah is signing, why is he walking away, yet responding to what Noah is signing behind him? Yeah. This is one of the most annoying artistic blunders throughout all of Spurrier's Hellblazer runs with Noah. Despite Noah being mute, other characters still act like they can "hear" him.

Sign language isn't a language you can passively listen to. When someone is signing, that means you have to be looking at their hands and facial expression in order to understand what they're communicating to you. A casual irl example- in art school us hearing students could draw in our sketchbooks as the teacher lectured. A deaf student we had that year had to clarify that was not something they were able to do. As whenever the lecturer spoke- that meant that student would have to look up to their interpreter translating the lecture. So they weren't able to catch up with the classwork the way us hearing students could.

You'll notice in the panels above, John is preoccupied and talking to someone on his phone. Yet he's "hearing" what Noah is signing to him. John self identifies as someone who knows "a bit" of BSL- meaning he's not fluent. But this doesn't go anywhere since John's functionally fluent throughout both runs. It's like having a character say they know "a bit" of French only to show them being fluent through the whole story. Why bother mentioning a language barrier if it wasn't going to matter?

In these panels, Noah is signing while facing to the side- as in he's not facing John directly as he's signing, which obscures his signs from being clearly read. This wouldn't be a problem for folks who are way more fluent with any sign language (they can recognize signs at many angles), but for newbies you'll usually have people signing with their torso directly facing the other person to be as clear as possible. And they'll sign a lot slower. Little nuances like that make it clear that no one on the Hellblazer creative team have conversed with deaf people before- but why would something so obvious not be considered in the artistic direction of this run?

Let's quickly go over comics visual storytelling and how comic artists are trained to tackle staging a "talking heads" scene. Scenes like this are when characters are having a long conversation, visually giving the scene a "samey" vibe. Our job as comic artists is to keep the visuals interesting, so there are a ton of tricks we're taught to vary up how a conversation looks. We'll have a character hold a prop, walk around, look away to something else, have characters multi-task as they talk (bonus if it's thematic to the conversation), basically outside of zooming in and out it's good to keep a character busy to give the scene visual variety. Anything to break out of that silhouette of two characters directly facing each other.

[these are not how the panels are presented in the comic, I spliced these panels from 2 different issues to save up space]

Therein lies the problem: these tricks rely on an able-bodied standard of communication in order to function. Having a character like Noah communicate in sign, relies on the character he's signing towards to be paying full attention. Tackling "talking heads" as a comic artist explains but doesn't excuse these horrendous instances where poor staging of the characters ends up accidentally implying Noah "has a voice" because the able-bodied characters sure seem to be able to "hear" him even though they're facing all sorts of directions. Again, this just means the artist and writer have to rise to the challenge of keeping the scenes visually interesting while being inclusive to the disabled character the writer introduced into this world.

While we're talking about comics, I'm just going to go ahead and say I'm not a fan of the letterer's choices to visualize Noah's dialogue. To differentiate from the other characters, Noah's speechbubble is more like a caption box- it's square and light green. Instead of a tail pointing out of it to indicate who is talking like a traditional speechbubble would, instead Noah's dialogue box has a long arrow coming out of it. The arrow pointing out is just so corny. It says: "look! here's where the words are coming from! His hands!! Whoaaa".

Moreover, the arrows ruin the visual flow of the comic pages. We humans are hard wired to look at where an arrow is pointing. It's what that symbol is designed for. It's why all those clickbait youtube thumbnails have arrows pointing on them, it steals your attention. The best kind of speechbubbles are unobtrusive to the art, complementing it. Having it so that whenever Noah has dialogue we get these annoying arrows that stick out of the page composition just ruins it. Here's what it looks like edited on other characters' speechbubbles. It's a lettering eyesore.

I see no reason why Noah can't have a speechbubble tail like everyone else. I personally like making the speecbubble tail a lil-squiggly when I'm drawing a speechbubble for a character signing. Differentiating the speechbubble enough but not to the point it's obtrusive to the page flow.

Additionally, Noah has "translation brackets" around his dialogue- it's a block of dialogue that starts with the "less than" symbol and ends with the "greater than" symbol to indicate a sentence being translated from another language.

<So you'll have a character's dialogue look like this in the speech bubble.> *

accompanied by a translation box clarifying that the dialogue is; [*translated from French, for example] in the first instance we see the language featured in the comic. Of course this isn't the only way to portray language in comics, sometimes letterers will go for using colored text to differentiate languages. There's no standard look! Noah's dialogue never featured an initial caption box that discloses what language he's signing in. I'm going to charitably presume that it's a stylistic move away from that practice so that the reader is put in the same confused position as John is upon first meeting Noah.

I don't personally have an issue with the application of translation brackets to Noah's dialogue. Because even though Noah is communicating in a type of English language (British Sign Language), what we're seeing written in the dialogue of the comic isn't a direct translation of what he's signing. Unless it's Sign Exact English, sign language has different sentence structure, grammar and syntax from spoken English. So if Noah signs something like "#BUS RED YOU SEE WILL", then that translates to him saying "You will see a red bus." in written dialogue. It's a translation of his signing, even if it's still English.

I don't think there's an indisputably correct way to portray sign language in comics. Something like this will go down to personal stylistic choice of the artist. Maybe one artist decides they don't want to put brackets on ASL dialogue because they'd rather use that to differentiate English language from non-English language. There's an argument to be made either way! So long as you commit to your set of rules, I can at least try to engage with where an artistic choice is coming from even if I disagree with how it's done.

Unfortunately, that's not the case for Dead in America:

It's in the very last issue of the run, but well. You forgot the translation brackets there, guys. Sloppy work.

To wrap up Noah's arc in Hellblazer 2019, Noah is revealed to be John Constantine's son. John had a graveyard fling with Liza Ikumelo, a police woman (barf), thereby insulting a demonic spirit (and by extension, me, the reader). Many years later the spirit hunts down the woman, cursing her to an eternal sleep. Her child, Noah, was nearby and by proxy lost his voice from the incident. So it's John Constantine's fault that Noah's mute, and that Noah's mom is in a coma. Hellblazer 2019 ends with John feeling an immense guilt for forcing Noah to kill a friend, meaning they now have to flee the country. John doesn't tell Noah that Noah is his son.

So despite the poor portrayal of Noah's disability in this run, his character overall at this point was a really interesting addition to Hellblazer lore. He has a unique background of hardship; cursed by John's shenanigans at birth without even knowing it, and despite all of that he still has it in him to want to help and be kind. The reveal that he's John's son adds a layer of tragedy to everything- what does it mean to be another continuation of the Constantine family? Without even knowing it? There's plenty of angst on John's end of things, having unknowingly been an absent father for years. We get to see echoes between father and son in their actions. They're both from harsh backgrounds but humanitarians at heart, in different ways. It's very compelling stuff.

Years later, Dead In America is released as the long awaited continuation of this story. John, his friend Nat, and Noah are in America now, going on a long cross country road trip in a double decker London bus. Why? Just because. Noah and Nat take turns driving because John can't drive. In my opinion Dead In America is a bigger, more convoluted plot so I will stick to summarizing things that are relevant to Noah's disability.

This run has all the same problems as the 2019 Hellblazer run does with characters not being staged properly when Noah is signing to them, but it's the very first issue that reveals something particularly damning about how Spurrier views sign as a language.

As Noah is driving the bus he is instructed not to stop for anyone. But later that night he suddenly does. John berates Noah, only to be surprised that Noah is speaking (and sounding uncharacteristically posh)! John suddenly can't speak, instead he signs. This is how he realizes he's in a dream and regains his ability to speak. It's clear what's intended by the storytelling here. Seeing an able bodied person sign is part of the surrealism that makes this scene out of the ordinary. It's supposed to be odd that John is signing, because it's weird that Noah is the one speaking. Signing is a thing only disabled people do, not anyone else. This dream sequence is the only time a character other than Noah signs.

This single narrative choice has a drastic ripple effect on the rest of the run; it means that through both runs, no one ever signs back to Noah. According to the National Association of the Deaf, 72% of hearing parents with deaf kids don't learn sign language. This leads to deaf kids struggling culturally within their own families. Sign language expresses things that written or spoken languages can't. So having their own family not bother to learn sign is deeply isolating for deaf kids. By not having anyone but especially John sign to Noah, any narrative attempt to portray familial care and consideration between the two is undercut by this barrier. Sure John cares for his son in his own way, but not enough to converse with him in his own language.

This is when it became clear to me that Noah's use of BSL functions more as "a voice but #diverse" instead of portraying sign language as a culture and community of its own. It's like characters of color being written as white, where their identities are just a palette change. Only here, it's more of "this character is speaking, but with his hands this time" never mind how that drastically changes how a character navigates the world and how people interact with him. Attempts at writing Noah's disability in this run continue to be lackluster at best and insulting at worst.

Don't get me wrong, Noah is not a "whitewashed" character- his Blackness is integrated into the narrative of both Hellblazer 2019 and Dead In America... for better or for worse. By this I mean especially in Dead In America, Spurrier really likes to use Noah as a prop to show how racist America is. I don't think there's anything wrong with showing some uncomfortable scenes of Noah facing off American cops. In fact I like how this scene in the first issue shows the specific struggles a Black disabled person goes through, being double profiled as someone dangerous when Noah's attempts to communicate are misinterpreted as a threat- it sets the tone for how dangerous the country is for someone like him.

The original Hellblazer showed plenty of scenes where John is brutalized by the cops in both the UK and US, so gritty commentary is right at home with the character's stories. The difference here is there is almost a giddiness to inventing scenarios for Noah to experience profoundly racist situations at the expense of Noah's own characterization in this run. It becomes more obvious as we progress.

This is another nitpick but when John, Nat, and Noah meet up with Clarice Sackville (an elderly magician lady) in issue #2, Noah discreetly signs to John, calling Clarice a "wrinkled old hag" only for John to whisper back "Be grateful she can't sign, Noah." meaning "be glad she can't understand what you're saying". If there was any opportunity to use sign language as a means of discreetly communicating around someone who doesn't understand it, this would've been the moment. But alas, only disabled people use sign language, right guys. John can only sign in a weird dream sequence.

The punchline here is that Clarice actually understood what Noah was signing, making a jab at him for calling her a "wrinkled old hag". I don't know how she understood what Noah was signing when she was clearly facing away from him the whole time but well. That's basically a tradition for Spurrier's runs at this point. Technically John's dialogue isn't wrong here. Clarice "can't sign". She understands it, but doesn't sign. Because that's a thing only disabled people do.

Let's put a pin on issue #4 and skip ahead to Dead In America issue #5. This is essentially an anthology issue containing short stories of little incidents John, Nat, and Noah encounter on the American road. I will be discussing the second story, "One-Way Ticket" written by Aaron Campbell (ordinarily the main artist of Spurrier's runs) with art by guest artist John Pearson.

It's a story about a ghost guy who wants to go home but everyone ignores him (because they can't see him), John helps out by discovering his dead body and bringing the spirit comfort. It's a cute and cozy story if it weren't for the abysmal way Noah is treated in it, completely contradicting its themes. Noah is horrified at the prospect of John leaving him alone in the red bus, fearing the cops will show up. John responds "You're mute, just pretend you're dumb too." Even for asshole-John standards this is unnecessarily cruel. Dead In America started with Noah being profiled by the police, so Noah's fears are as founded as it gets. This short story may not be written by Spurrier, but it is written by the artist who DREW THAT SCENE.

I didn't splice the panels above, that is exactly how they are presented in the comic. Not only do we have characters facing away from Noah as he's signing again (a tradition even guest artists continue to perpetuate it seems), but it's followed up immediately with a ghost being grateful that John recognizes him. The irony that John gets told that after ditching his son. Why not make the story about Noah relating to the ghost? Remember that scene where Noah is signing to the Ri-Boys and they all ignore him? He and the ghost could connect over how they're ignored and treated as disposable, how accommodation for people like them is considered an inconvenience, how no one cares when their life is threatened.

When John returns from discovering the ghost's dead body, just like clockwork Noah is being searched by a cop. Only now it's treated like a joke instead- with Nat taking a smoke on the side and John just slapping a spell on the cop to make him stop.

This nonchalant carelessness for the portrayal of cops is a big departure from how ACAB John was in his original Hellblazer run. John was a man who could outsmart and kill the Vampire King only to be immediately beat up by cops afterwards. He's called homophobic slurs for defending the dead body of his sex worker guy friend. It paints this image of a guy who can overcome the supernatural but doesn't stand a chance against mundane human cruelty. Because that kind of thing takes more than a magic trick to defeat. But in Dead In America, cops are a mild inconvenience to John. He can just cast spells on them and move on. It's disappointing how even in a run that's supposed to be a return to form for Hellblazer, John isn't as radical as he was written in the 80s and 90s. The cops don't have the kind of threatening authority they had in the older comics. Don't worry, it gets worse.

Let's hop and skip ahead to Dead In America issue #9. For plot reasons, John went missing. He disappeared to Hell and back for four weeks, separated from Noah and Nat. When he reunites with his friends, they want nothing to do with him. They're now running their own little film studio, shooting a film that metatextually reflects their road trip adventure. Again, for plot reasons. They're teaming up with a metamancer to speed filmmaking along. Nat's the director and Noah's the producer. He's practicing magic, and even found himself a girlfriend, Liz! She's an Asian girl though and that worries me. Because Asian love interests are usually seen as narratively disposable. A racist character assumes Noah is using "mind magic on her" because there's no way Noah would end up with someone so "hot", right? Right.

[spliced panels from issue 9 and 10]

Issue #10 is when we get very much needed perspective from Noah and Nat's point of view. Nat always wanted to be a writer, while Noah longs for a life of normalcy. The two narrate their backstories, building their life up to meeting John, to where they are now with their film studio.

We learn how Noah got into using magic, and. Urgh. Sick of dealing with a language barrier as a disabled person, Noah uses magic to communicate with people. It's another case of "we haven't even exhausted basic options to bridge a language barrier yet-" I get it, throughout this run Noah doesn't have his notebook, and he doesn't appear to have his phone either (perhaps to hide from the authorities tracking them down) but to that I say pocket-sized boogie boards are still an affordable option that won't get you tracked down by the cops. I'd even prefer him buying another notebook over this. In this issue he's even seen with a phone, so what do I know.

"huh! I just remembered that I, an American, actually do know British Sign Language! Hah how could I forget something like that ho ho" it's just so trite. Like we're not even going to try and grab a paper and pen to communicate? We're skipping to using dark magic instead? Okay. Worst of all, so you're telling me the racist loser was right about Noah?? That Noah wouldn't have a chance with Liz if it weren't for magic? What are we doing...

I'm not including the panel here but after Noah narrates "I won't use this shit to coerce people-- I'm not him. But... making things easier? Simpler? Why not?" the following panel is of him and Liz getting funky style in bed. Even with Noah saying he won't "coerce people" he still says that magic can make things easier. Simpler. There is this uncomfortable implication that Noah "made it easier" for Liz to sleep with him. Sure it can be read that he got close to her through them communicating on the same page. But when their relationship isn't developed, narratively she just kind of exists as a prop for his desires. To quote Noah himself in Dead In America issue #4: "It was rape."

Time to revisit that pin. So issue #4 is about John and Noah masquerading as an exorcist and...an enslaved person to trick a small town into revealing a coverup: a girl was assaulted by six boys in their local football team, ending her own life from her story being pushed aside for the bright future of the football boys. Noah is so infuriated by how she was mistreated that he beats up one of the boys. It's a heavy story about how far a town will go to protect the future of boys while discarding the life of the girl, who to this day is anonymous. If you're wondering whether Noah pretending to be an enslaved person was necessary to the con, I can assure you it really wasn't.

What's frustrating here is that are we really supposed to believe that Noah, a character who was willing to risk his safety by beating up a rapist, would then go ahead and "make it easier" to sleep with a girl later? Remember. The reason he did that was because his disability was apparently holding him back. Are we really having it so the only person of color in John's cast for this story did this? That if he wasn't disabled, he wouldn't do this? It's frankly disgusting.

Through John's silver tongue trickery, he pulls shenanigans that cause Nat and Noah to get arrested. Despite Nat being known to be violent, Noah is the one who is brutalized by the cops and put into solitary confinement. Because racism. Spurrier really wants you to know that American cops are so racist, guys.

I wonder where all this energy was for his Hellblazer 2019 run taking place in the UK. Where the only cop characters were noble people of color who are looking out for each other. Noah's own mom was a cop, even. He'll show Noah looking tense in a car as cops walk by in Hellblazer 2019, but for Dead In America? Noah is profiled by police three times, made to play an enslaved person for John's ends, and is in the receiving end of so many bigoted characters' racism. Spurrier is selective about his portrayal of cops when it suits him.

At this point it's transparent looking back at the treatment of Noah's character throughout Dead In America, that there's a giddiness Spurrier (and technically Campbell) have in crafting racist scenarios for Noah to go through. But it's okay because they have John say a lamp-shading comment to assure readers that the writers recognize "This Is A Racist Thing Happening".

Reading Dead in America reminded me of the discourse surrounding "Strange Fruit" a comic by Mark Waid and J. G. Jones. I won't belabor explaining the plot, but what they have in common is this self congratulatory "giddiness to put Black characters in compromising situations" I keep describing. Like, they didn't have to create a naked Black Superhero named "Johnson" who doesn't speak and wears a confederate flag while dealing with racists in the Jim Crow era South but...these white writers just didn't have a choice! It's the rules of story! John has to pretend Noah is his property!

"Strange Fruit's desire to make big, albeit familiar statements about America's sinful past and do justice to both the subject matter and history often comes at the expense of considerate or even dimensional characterization."

-Vox writer Tre Johnson, 2017.

This is the kind of giddiness to indulge in fictional cruelty that isn't written with Black readers in mind. It's to entertain white readers with an exaggerated depiction of racism to make themselves feel better about being British. And if anyone's excuse is "well it's Hellblazer! Vertigo comics are supposed to talk about uncomfortable topics, John gets beat up by cops too back in the day", then need I remind you that unlike John, the sheer frequency Noah is put into these compromising scenarios is at the expense of his characterization.

Don't think that Spurrier's done playing with his "America Sure Is Racist" prop yet though.

As Noah (still bruised and battered) escapes prison, John pulls a couple more tricks on him: he "accidentally" reveals that Noah is his son, tricks Liz into faking her death to freak Noah out (we'll never see her again after this), and gets Clarice to pretend to die in front of him. All this angers Noah into attempting to kill John- but he stops. Because Noah still isn't that kind of person.

This is all part of John's plan, supposedly he made a deal with demons in Hell that if John himself is killed in the allocated time, he won't actually die. But his plan failed. Unfortunately for John, Nat is still filming their road trip movie, and whatever the actors do, the real characters do as well. A script change happens, and John ends up killing Noah.

But aha, this is yet another trick. By issue #11, Noah wakes up bruise-free and alive (he even gets to smash in John's stand in actor for good measure). Turns out, John's deal with the demons of Hell was for his son to live, instead- a selfless act that none of the Gods and demons saw coming. After John does some more silver-tongue talking to a Dream Entity, he's able to grant people some rushed happy endings.

Noah's mom wakes up from her eight year magical coma, the policeman hunting down Nat and Noah deletes his files, and Nat becomes the boss of a major studio- her writer dreams come to fruition. I don't know how Noah's getting back home to his mom, but shh shhh it's a happy ending, Spurrier promises.

So we have a twist to the usual Hellblazer story. Instead of John surviving at the expense of his friends and family, now John sacrifices his life to Noah and Nat so they can live freely. Last but certainly not least, as Clarice dies she gifts Noah the ability to speak. And when Noah does speak, he sounds so out of character I thought I was misreading things. Is this another lettering mistake? No? Then what is this random poetry.

I recognize what the narrative is doing here. It's John's fault that Noah's mom is in a coma and that Noah is mute, so the resolution to that conflict is for him to undo the wrongs he did to the Ikumelo family- which includes Noah being "cured" of his disability. The problem here is not only is this an exhausting continuation of the "disabilities getting cured" trope- so Noah can join the "easier, simpler" life of able bodied people- but also that a large facet of Noah's identity is tied to John's character development.

Noah might not be the main character, but he's the deuteragonist of Dead In America- the beating family heart that ties John to someone who would otherwise be a stranger. Instead of narratively endearing us to Noah's character, Spurrier seems content to just have Noah drive the bus only to make occasional stops to demonstrate how Racist America Is. It's such a fall from grace to the intriguing character we met in Hellblazer 2019. All that characterization of someone willing to help despite a life of hardship is just out the window.

[spliced panels]

My overall feelings about the treatment of Noah Ikumelo is that whatever representation he embodies feels like being thrown a really shitty party. Noah Ikumelo is an original creation for these two runs. Si Spurrier didn't have to make Noah a Black disabled teenager, but he did. Spurrier takes up that responsibility of representation by half-assing it. The kind of thing a guy who gloats about a bi-colored comic cover would do before accidentally calling the character in it "pansexual" in said comic. And then backpedal on twidder when called out for it. Half ass behavior.

Noah went from being this interesting exploration of unintended legacy to being a prop to make shallow commentary on American racism. Noah is never drawn consistently between artists but he sure is adultified a bunch to the point that I even see readers describing him as "basically an adult" when he's only 16-17 years old. I get that it's supposed to be tragic that he's forced to grow up too soon, but part of that tragedy is that he still is a kid. The portrayal of his disability shows how no research was put into being inclusive in either the writing or the art to the point it's downright nonsensical. The research amounts to looking up a sign language dictionary for words and that's it. This isn't even touching on how there was no recognition of the intersection between Black culture and sign language.

The problems with Noah Ikumelo are not unique to Hellblazer, or Si Spurrier or the Hellblazer creative team. They're a reflection of a predominantly able-bodied and white industry that is comics and media as a whole. The very way comics as a medium is taught carries with it an ableist standard for portraying communication. All this to say that tackling a character like Noah would mean doing the extra work to be critical of what we're used to seeing as the norm. But if you were just going to half-ass setting up a party for Black disabled readers, then why even bother y'know? It's not like Spurrier was held at gun point to create a disabled character. Frankly he was too busy crafting scenarios for guns to be pointing at Noah instead.

[starrycometmoth]

UPDATED AS OF 1-11-25

Intro!!

☁️ My name is Echo (you can also call me Minori). I use they/xe/moon/star/bean/boo pronouns!! If you want any more information about me or my pronouns, then visit my pronouns page :3

☁️ OFFICIALLY 18!!

☁️ Currently hyperfixated on PJSK (Hatsune Miku Colorful Stage) and my favorite characters are Mizuki, Minori, and Shiho (I love the Hinomori siblings in general and I'm the secret third one >:3)!! I also like Pokemon, Mouthwashing, and Project Eden's Garden!!

☁️ Trying to learn how to speak Spanish better, so if you can speak Spanish you can speak to me or send me things in Spanish!! (Traducción: intentando aprender cómo hablar Español mejor, así si puedes hablar Español puedes enviar cosas o hablar a mí en Español!!)

☁️ I've been very busy lately with work and school, but I promise if you send me things or tag me in something I'll respond eventually (although if you send me asks that say something like "send this to _ other people" or if you spam the same ask multiple times (even through different accounts) I will delete them /nm). Also, as a warning I may reblog things that some may find disturbing (no NSFW tho) or ships you may not like. If there's anything that makes you uncomfy please lmk and I can tag it in those reblogs (so far the only thing I have tagged is nemopen)!!

My DNI criteria, tags, + things I don't like!!

⭐ DNI (unless I interact first): People who hate any of my comfort characters (especially Penny and Shiho haters), Nemona x Penny haters, Drayton x Kieran shippers, Jimmy (Mouthwashing) supporters, people who f3tishize and/or don't support agere and petre, proshippers or anything else along those lines, DSMP fans, basic DNI criteria (homoph0b3s, transph0b3s, r4c1sts, etc.).

⭐ Tags:

#echo 📎💚 - stuff I post in my usual state (not regressing) (not counting reblogs).

#little echo ☁️✨ - stuff I post while regressing/about regressing (not counting reblogs) (this is an inactive tag cuz I haven't been able to regress in forever).

#the lyrical bane - stuff about my Mochi Mayhem (Pokemon SV DLC 3) AU.

#pinterest repost - self explanatory, my posts from Pinterest (that was once my main social so there's a lot of content from there that I might put here).

#brightstarshipping - Lumi (my oc) x Penny (pokemon) content. (Idk if I'll actually use this tag more than once but I'm putting it here anyways)

#lumi hinomori - EVERYTHING LUMI (my oc)!! That's their name in the pjsk universe, but I'm using it for everything cuz that's the only universe where they had a full name sooo...

⭐ Things I don't like: I get really uncomfy at the mentions of things like SA, gr0p1ng, or any other forms of unwanted touching. Also (more recent discovery) I don't like f3tishes or k1nks, specifically any sort of imagery depicting them. Stuff in my DNI aren't cool, so please keep that away from me pretty plz.

⭐ I have a Minori rp account if you're interested :3 - @minorinrin-mmj

My account is meant to be a safe space for everyone non-toxic!!

If I ever do anything wrong, plz let me know and I'll fix it!!

[benefits1986]

numb

Numbing the pain doesn't take the pain away.

NGL, Vidi's condition is creeping in. He remains strong but I can definitely see him downplaying his pain. And this triggers the last chapter with me and mom. Every time I see how shallow his breaths are during his "deep" sleep, I cringe. Seeing Vici beside him more often these days is also heartbreaking.

My first two dogs are really facing the realities that come with being senior dogs. Since they are my first official pets, I still ask myself if I've been a decent pet parent to them. I know the answer is yes, but, there I go again and again.

I have been trying to numb this grief for the past weeks, but as a recovering avoidant, sige, let the emotions march in. Shemay. Indeed, having pets teaches people like me to be forcefully kinder and softer. UGH. Hahahahahaha. Two words that are not my strong suit. However, whenever I stare at Vidi's brown eyes, wala e. Finished na. LELS. And hopefully, this time around, I'd be able to up the ante of my social experiment called "leaning into vulnerability" for reallzzzz kahit ayoko talaga. HUY.

That's also the reason why I try to spend more time at home even when I can go all out in gala mode as a takas girl. Absence numbs feelings. Absence keeps the real stuff away even for a while. LELS. But here I am shit and all. Not powering through, but coming through, bit by bit.

And this time around, I am trying my friggin' best to choose to be thankful for the "bonus" time that I get with Vidi through it all. It's really not too bad to have 12 years with these babes. Not too shabby for a super clueless pet mom with zero experience and zero fucks to give then, too. As my soul sis said, it's about time that we "celebrate" our small steps. We've been bonding over her free +1 for the Positive Intelligence app. LOL. We're in that era na. Hahahahaha. It used to be My Fitness Pal ages ago and Plurk. And nakakatawa din talaga kasi looking at our 20s, it's a shitshow talaga.

Anyhow, I feel so much better now. Hassle talaga pero let's go. PS: Tawang-tawa ako kasi tinanong ako kung oks pa rin ba if mag-breakfast buffet kami sa isang trending sa South na nagkaroon ng shitshow involving a pet-friendly policy na may bias.

Sabi ko naman, honestly speaking, I don't have any hard feelings about it, though the apology was done in very, very poor taste. And for sure, they'd do better. Why do we keep canceling just because something is not aligned with our "core" agad-agad? Parang corned beef lang 'yan e. Don't hate the product just because the maker is fucked up in your universe. Parang art and artist lang din 'yan e. Parang Sheiiiiiin lang 'yan pero oks lang Zarrraaa and H&&&&EM? LELS. Ako lang 'yan a. Ako lang.

[soothingmoonlight]

This is such an amazing and informative post! Thank you, OP, for sharing it!

If I may also add that in "The Shibboleth of Fëanor" Tolkien points out that Fëanor was actually the one who was speaking Quenya correctly and that the Noldor should have kept the letter Þ and its pronunciation 'th'.

I have seen many posts on the matter claiming that Fëanor had a lisp or that he was trying to substitute the letter 's' with the letter 'þ' altogether which could not be further from the truth. In fact, it was the other way around. Fëanor wanted to keep both 'þ' and 's' as both sounds/letters are needed in order to speak the language properly. The rest of the Noldor, however, wanted to substitute 'þ' with 's' and this change was "to the lasting detriment of the Quenya tongue".

Quote: "Into the strife and confusion of loyalties in that time this seemingly trivial matter, the change of þ to s, was caught up to its embitterment, and to lasting detriment to the Quenya tongue. Had peace been maintained there can be no doubt that the advice of Fëanor, with which all the other lore-masters privately or openly agreed, would have prevailed."

- Shibboleth of Fëanor, HoME XII, The Peoples of Middle-Earth

From this excerpt it also becomes very clear that this change was a political move and Fëanor had every right to be upset by yet another attempt at diminishing his mother's memory and her legacy.

In conclusion, everybody who adhered to the change of þ to s are in the wrong and are speaking broken Quenya. Imagine what would happen if we decided to make the same change in the English language and substitute the 'th' letter/sound with the 's' letter/sound. The meaning of some words would become entirely different.

Þink [think] -> Sink ; Þin [thin] -> Sin ; Þank (thank) -> Sank

About the Thorn (Þ, þ)

The thorn, as a letter, gets a lot of mention in the Silm Fandom, for obvious reasons. For such a petty linguistic fight in a very grand story, it’s pretty emblematic of Feanor and all his… Feanor-ness. It’s also a subtle, fun way to show loyalties through language!

That being said, I see a lot of people using the Thorn incorrectly, because the Shibboleth doesn’t explain it all that well and it’s pretty obscure trivia knowledge at this point. But I have too much trivia. So here’s a short run down on the Thorn- what it is, and what it isn’t- for all your general linguistic pettiness needs!

þ is a letter. It is pronounced ‘th’. 

It is not an alternative pronunciation for ‘s’.

It is an additional letter to the alphabet, an alphabet which would have already contained the letter ‘s’.

Historical and Linguistic explanation under the cut.

Keep reading

[skyeventide]

daddy issues this and that but I think Celegorm has mommy issues actually. 

look hear me out, he is ride or die for his father, it’s pretty obvious. and I am absolutely certain that pre-darkening and everything, the one in the family who enforced things like “apologising” and “following norms of good behaviour” and “making amends, and grounding you if you fail to do so” just... was not Feanor. I know it’s a common take to make him strict with discipline but I just do not see it. what I see is actually a father who backs his sons up even if they’re wrong, depending on the reason of a dispute, out of sheer personal affection. and if they’re right? then whatever else they did is not their or his problem, because they are right. and that comes first. but, on the other hand, I see a Nerdanel who, even if they’re right, still pushes for a mediating behaviour — yes, you are right, but you shouldn’t have done what you did even so; I see a Nerdanel who, when they’re wrong, will say so, and will insist for acknowledgement of that as a first step to fix the situation. 

and look, I think Celegorm gets a lot of that from her. far from the only one, but I feel he especially gets it, because anything and everything we’ve seen from him shows a tendency to double down, no matter what. this man does not feel sorry, and does not say sorry. he used to, but the more in late days he grows estranged from his mother, and the more he attaches himself to his father (and oh boy does he attach himself to his father), the more her approach to educating and disciplining cements in a sense of rejection. from her side but also, crucially, from his perspective of her — and eventually as rejection from him too. it isn’t even anger towards her, but a radical refusal; and telling someone “you are wrong actually” is sometimes a very strong form of love (the ability to call a wrongdoing out even as you love someone), but I don’t feel he would perceive it as such.

[tanoraqui]

Sons of Fëanor: Linguistic Prescriptivists or Descriptivists?

(follow-up to this post)

Maedhros: True Prescriptivist, Very Invested. If you went deep into Maedhros’s subconscious, or maybe like semiconscious, you’d find a chart in which Column 1 is Father’s Ongoing Causes - ranging from “building a new Gemcutters Guild Hall” to “300th Anniversary Getaway with Mother” to “Reviling the Descendants of Indis” (further sub-categorized by individual) - and the other columns are a scale ranging from “Truly Wholeheartedly Support in Every Way” to “Publicly Support, Covertly Attempt to Mitigate” to “Wholeheartedly Disagree and Disavow in Every Way.” No causes have check marks in that last category, though there are a number in the preceding category, “Passively Disagree; Avoid Debate with All,” including for several descendants of Indis. (There used to be even more. Marks have been erased and rewritten everywhere, over time.) UNFORTUNATELY, the cause “Prescriptivist Linguistics” is firmly in the Truly Wholeheartedly Support in Every Way category. It was easy, okay. It’s such a simple, easy thing to support (especially while covertly mitigating other things). It has larger philosophical implications, sure, but the core of the issue is an aching void where a grandmother and mother should be, which does ache in Maedhros as well, and his father generally ignores the larger philosophical implications anyway, So why should Maedhros care about them! Language has definitive rules! It objectively does, one of which is that the Þ is a common and important letter, and everyone else is petulantly making trouble about it for no reason!

(This is Maedhros’s greatest flaw as a person; don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.)

Maglor: True Descriptivist (Respectful of Names), Very Invested but Avoids Argument. Maglor is a writer of Songs and songs; he plays around with language far too much not to know and love it for just that: being an ever-flexible plaything. He both sings and speaks whichever sounds finest to him in the moment, and his father begrudgingly accepts this as a matter of craft rather than a linguistic or even (family) politics. One is permitted to break the rules after learning them exhaustively, after all; that is how much of the best art happens. (Maglor deliberately diminishes the sa-si-ing in Formenos, though, as Fëanor’s temper grows ever worse.) And Maglor always crafts any lyric so as to support the correct pronunciation of Miriel Þerindë. He’s not an animal.

Celegorm: True Prescriptivist, Moderately Invested. Celegorm is a Prescriptivist on principle of family loyalty, but the only reason he really cares is that one time, some pointed out that even the languages of animals change naturally over time, and he knows and admits that, so why can’t he accept it for Elves? And Celegorm off the top of his head retorted that no creature but Elves builds tall walls of stone where nature did not place them, nor forges rings, blows glass, bakes bread, or a hundred other things that don’t happen “naturally.” So why should their language be like that of animals? Why shouldn’t they have rules as unyielding as stone walls or forged blades? And he was so proud of that argument, which really isn’t bad, that he pulled it out at every opportunity henceforth, and may never be persuaded otherwise.

Caranthir: Dutiful Prescriptivist, Minimally Invested. If asked offhand, will toe the family line. More often, will snap out whatever position is either most likely to start a fight or most likely to end whatever fight is already happening, depending on his mood. Really thinks there are better things to shout about.

Curufin: Is Going to get a Good Grade in Agreeing With Father, a Thing that is Both Normal To Want and Possible To Achieve. ‘Nuff said. (Deep DEEP deep down recognizes that language evolves, that’s what makes it cool, and incidentally this is all an incredibly stupid debate and can he please get back to the forge.)

Amrod: Dutiful Prescriptivist, Secret Descriptivist, Moderately Invested. I headcanon that the twins were born shortly after the creation of the Silmarils (I headcanon that Nerdanel and Fëanor were gossip!infamous for getting baby-making levels of horny whenever one of them created a particularly impressive thing; the Silmarils inspired twins), so they never really know a time when things aren’t getting...steadily worse and worse, in the politics of Tirion at large and the House of Finwë in particular. So neither Ambarussa would dream of saying sa-si... Except Amrod does, in fact. Dream of it. Because he’s done some research and he’s like 95% sure their father is just being wantonly emotional and covering it up with hypocrisy and just plain stupidity, about this particular issue.

Amras: Dutiful Prescriptivist, Rebellious/Fraternally Supportive Descriptivist, Minimally Invested: See above, but doesn’t really care that much...but Amrod does (later: did). So late in the Formenos era he started experimenting with a dash of dramatic teenage rebellion in the form of Þ, and after Losgar he stops being dramatic about it but one time a few years into Maglor’s terrible reign as Regent-King, he and Celegorm get into a screaming match over “Þerindë” vs “Serindë”, among other things, and Amras never speaks with a Fëanorian lisp for the rest of his time in Beleriand. (After eventual reincarnation, he concedes Þerindë, but that’s it. Language evolves. It’s fine.)

Others of Note:

Fingon: True Descriptivist, Very Invested. This is possibly the only topic on which Fingon and Maedhros will get into genuinely heated fights. Especially when it’s a thinly veiled metaphor for fighting about their loyalties to their respective fathers, but also when it’s literally a fight about linguistic philosophy. Fingon is perfectly capable of heart-stirring poetry, eloquent court language, and sesquipedalian intellectual debate, but when he’s just having fun, his default state is Buffyspeak. 

Turgon: Dutiful Descriptivist, Secret Prescriptivist, Moderately Invested. Toes the family line, of course, if only because Fëanor is an asshole. But secretly, secretly, is entirely swayed by Celegorm’s argument. Would literally not admit this under 1000 years torture in the depths of Angband, and I mean literally.

Fëanor: Begrudgingly Comes Around. It would take literal millennia of therapy for Fëanor to admit that maaaybe this isn’t about linguistic theory, maaaaaaaybe it’s really about his desperate need to keep around any part of his mother that he can. But isn’t that what the Halls of Mandos are for? (With help from Irmo, Estë, and Nienna?) Not that he comes out without a lisp, when they finally do let him out. More like...he slowly concedes, over some large number of years of being reembodied, that maybe he can...dial this debate back. For real. But! A lot of his personal pride and reputation is still invested in it (and he’s not going to let people mispronounce his mother’s literal epessë), so he just dials it back to “implicitly admitting that maybe this is slightly silly but it’s a matter of Principle (and personal emotional investment; please humor me)! we’re arguing but it’s a jokey, ‘sibling’ argument, like the kids have!” You know, the sort where you genuinely hold opposing opinions but you’re deliberately acting melodramatic about them because it’s fun? And everyone else is pretty okay to let this become something they...tease each other about. Nobody else (except maybe Nerdanel) knows that Fëanor has actually changed his mind (except about “Þerindë” itself).

Then one day in like the Fifth Age, Fëanor is enduring a particularly annoying conversation at some sort of royal event, with some particularly insipid courier, and the exact matter of insipidity causes him to snap somewhat loudly, “Language evolves, you idiot. It cannot be ordained.” And from halfway across the room, Fingolfin’s head whips around like an owl,��and in the subsequent fight about who said and/or heard what, they nearly draw swords on each other in the king’s hall again.*

*I know it was only Fëanor the first time. I am not ruling out the possibility that over the course of Fëanor’s inevitably messy post-reembodiment reconciliation with his extended family, it happened mutually at least once.

[x-infernhoes-x]

She’s My Collar- Basilio x Reader

Title: She’s My Collar

Genre: Romance, Smut, Porn with Plot

Warning(s): Mentions of Semi-Public Sex, Car Sex, Mentions of Alcohol, Implied Consent, Basilio nearly murdering someone because they spoke badly about you

Description: KAI IF YOU’RE READING THIS, THIS ONE’S FOR YOU AND ALL OF YOU BASILIO SIMPS 

NOTE SOMETIME AROUND 3:00 AM YESTERDAY NAWALA YUNG ORIGINAL PUTANG INA I WAS THIS CLOSE ON FINISHING IT SHDJGFHJBDKJBSEDVGSJHGBKHGSFKJBGBKJGBJGLJBGWL  AN HOUR’S WORTH OF WRITING G O N E AND I HAD TO REWRITE EVERYTHING I AM STRESSED AND DSBJKGBKJFSDGNB SO ENJOY.

4:31 AM NOTE UPDATE YESTERDAY: langya ayoko na. matutulog na nga ako, sakit na ng likod ko.

6:50 PM NOTE TODAY: I’M GOING TO FINISH THIS BEFORE MIDNIGHT COMES. ALSO, DON’T DRINK AND DRIVE KIDS!!

12:10 AM NOTE TODAY: The note above this one is a lie. I managed to continue this after family night lmao but enjoy still. Tried my best to make it gender-neutral as possible but yeah :’) I kinda failed successfully I think???

  You and Basilio have been dating for quite some time now. Although he was a messy guy you made sure that you had his back and helped him out to work on how to keep his sloppy tendencies at bay and in turn he would shower you with love and affection that you would usually get from the demi-god of war. Basilio was the perfect guy, he was a sweet lad who made your lonely days better, he made sure that you were cared for in any shape or form and he always had your back in everything and he would give you anything you would ask for in the world. The two of you barely even fought and if you were to fight, it would be more of a joke one than an all-out screaming match. He was the best thing that has ever happened to you and you constantly thank Bathala for it and Basilio thought the same. The two of you were a match made in heaven.

 Although despite your busy schedules keeping the two of you apart, you both made sure that you and your loving boyfriend would get the chance to hang out together. Often, you and Basilio would frequent the Diabolical together, just basking in each other's presence, tucked away in some booth Hank had reserved for the two of you, or sitting by the bar just chatting about each other’s day. You could recall Hank telling you that whenever you were around or that when someone ever mentions your name, Basilio seemed to calm down and would eagerly listen into whatever conversation had said your name. There was a time where Basilio nearly knocked someone’s teeth out because they were talking badly of you and it took Crispin, Maliksi, Hannah, Amie, Alex, and Hank himself to hold back the younger twin and prevent him from punching someone’s lights or teeth out or even prevent a murder from ever happening.

 “Alam mo, (Y/N) pag naririnig ni Basilio na dadaan ka rito, parang siyang aso na di mapakali. Kulang nalang na magkaroon siya ng buntot e.” Hank joked as he was cleaning the freshly washed glass, watching Basilio flush red, face buried into his forearm as he groaned in response while you let out a small chuckle.

 Now looking back, that memory seemed to be far away from you. Tonight happened to be your anniversary with Basilio and instead of a cozy night in, he wanted to do something different.  Basilio wanted to take you out dancing and bar hopping around Bonifacio Global City’s luxurious bars (sometimes you wondered to yourself how the hell can Basilio afford this.) and maybe take you sight seeing around the place when you got the time. Pacing around your living room in your apartment, you were about to shoot him a text message when a knock at your door had interrupted you from doing so, nearly dropping your phone in the process. “Sandali  lang!” you yelled to whoever was outside the door. If there was one thing you learned from dating Basilio, it was being vigilant. You had to make sure that the person on the other side of your door was your boyfriend and not some kind of Aswang or any malicious person who had a personal grudge against the twins and Alex. Taking a peek at the pee hole your door had, you were greeted by the sight of your boyfriend, Basilio grinning up at you as he waved. Instead of wearing his suit, Basilio was in his casual clothing for tonight, his long silken locks pulled back in a half-up, half-down man-bun.

 Opening the door, you then welcomed him with open arms before proceeding to smack him playfully on his arm, an amused smirk on your lips as you opened your mouth to speak, your tone light and teasing, “Took you long enough! Siguro na-traffic ka no?” Basilio could only roll his dark eyes at you as he placed a loving kiss upon your head. “Hindi a, si Kuya Crispin kasi e, sobrang tagal niya sa banyo kaya ayun.” Pulling himself away from you, he then offered his arm for you to take with a grin, his head tilting towards the direction of the door as he spoke, “So ano? Tara na?” “Siyempre naman.”  

 After making sure your apartment was locked, the two of you went down towards the direction of the parking lot and took a couple few selfies inside the elevator, you and Basilio were off. While in the car, the both of you would scream along to the lyrics of Ang Huling El Bimbo by Eraserheads while in traffic. On your way to BGC, both of you were surprised to see Maliksi and his significant by the stoplight, taking the advantage of the long-ass stop to chat with the Prince of the Tikbalangs and his fiancé. Your conversation was cut short when the stoplight had changed from red to green, saying your goodbyes to each other as Basilio drove away to your very first destination, which was none other than XYLO at The Palace.

  In all honesty, you’ve heard about this bar but it was the first time you got to enter the place itself. The both of you got lucky that the place wasn’t as packed and that you got there early before the actual party had started. Both you and Basilio then made your way over to the bar to grab your first drinks of the night. The two of you chatted for a while, occasionally nodding your heads to the beat of the song. After a while, the night seemed to kick in and both of you were already at what seemed to be your 3rd or 4th bar of the night, this time you and Basilio were jumping up and down to DJ Khalid’s song ‘All I Do Is Win’ before the both of you screamed along with the rest of the patrons, “Putang Ina, Alak Pa!”  and time seemed to flow faster than ever as you and your loving boyfriend went in and about around BGC’s classiest bars, downing every single drink you two could manage and take or even dance along to the songs the bars provided while occasionally sharing a kiss here and there, not minding the reek of alcohol and sweat clinging on each other’s bodies as the two of you laughed.

 Sometime around 10:30, you and Basilio were shitfaced to oblivion but both of you were used to it. You had lost count on how many drinks you’ve managed to down yet you and Basilio couldn’t care less, you were certain that you heard your phones ring but you two never got the chance to answer them because Basilio was busy doing body shots on you or you making out with your boyfriend in some hidden corner of the bar. You were starting to get the hint that after your little make-out session at Club Haze, he was focused on one thing and you knew what that meant, despite being inebriated out of your wits. So what do you do? Put on a show for him of course.

 You knew Basilio was sitting by the bar because you told him you were going to use the bathroom to freshen up a little bit since the club felt a little bit humid. What he didn’t expect was you sashaying over to where the dance floor, the last notes of Nelly Furtado’s Maneater fading away only to be replaced by Doja Cat’s Streets. To you, the sound seemed to have slowed down and you weren’t sure because it was the alcohol’s effects taking over, nobody else in the club mattered but your boyfriend alone.  The figures around you seemed to blur and Basilio was the only one you had your eyes on as your body moved to the beat, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted, and even from afar, you could see your demi-god of a boyfriend shuffle in his seat, his cheeks brightly flushed even under the lights of the dark club (yes, Basilio even tried to hide his raging boner from everyone but he was failing miserably). You knew that he was watching you closely like a predator ready to strike and even from afar you can tell that he was getting impatient with your games and that made you smirk. You knew that Basilio had a thing for Semi-Public sex and your several other experiences with him were proof of that, hell the two of you almost got caught one time and you were internally thankful that you weren’t. But tonight, Basilio’s going to abide by the rules of your own game and not his.

The opening bass beat from Beyonce’s Yonce/Partition was your cue to take things up a notch by making your way over to the bar where you had stood upon the counter (you had asked the bartender and the rest of the patrons who hung around the bar save for Basilio in advance and they seemed to agree with it just as long as you were careful) and made your way down the counter, hips sashaying and your body with every beat and drop before stopping to where he was, a smirk on your face, your hands running up from your thighs and right past your chest in a sensual manner, leaning in just so you could ghost your lips over Basilio’s eagerly waiting ones before pulling away with a wink. Once your little show was done and you had gone down from your counter with the help of the bartender you had just spoken to before making your way over to the dance floor once more to dance just as your song, She’s My Collar by Gorillaz began to play only to be caught short when you felt a hand grab you by the wrist.

Despite being drunk you were still smart and quick to retaliate towards whoever had grabbed you only to be surprised to be looking right directly at your boyfriend’s dark obsidian gaze, his breath slow and ragged and you knew you were in it for real this time the moment he said, “We’re leaving.” In a tone, you’ve never heard from him before and that seemed to send shivers and chills up your spine as he dragged you away from the bar to head right outside.

Honestly, the whole trip back to the car seemed to pass you by like a blur, you would occasionally stumble on your own feet, which prompted Basilio to sling you over his shoulder like you were nothing but a sack of potatoes (at least it gave you a perfect view of his ass). The moment you arrived at your car, however, you were thrown haphazardly into the backseat after Basilio had unlocked the door with ease and then entered the vehicle as well, quickly pulling you up on his lap where he locked his lips with you in a heated kiss, hands roaming around your body with such need and you could feel his erection straining against the fabric of his dark jeans. You were surprised at first but once the initial shock and surprise had worn off, you kissed him back as well with the same passion and need that he emulated from his kiss, your fingers and hands made a quick undo of his man-bun and top, hastily unbuttoning them, eager to touch the skin underneath it and leave marks on it. Basilio could only groan in response to your touches, his tongue exploring your mouth like uncharted territory, his hands groping your behind with such force that made you moan out his name, a quiet hiss of “Tangina.” Soon followed your surprise.

 In your mayhem of desire and lust, you didn’t notice Basilio play Chase Atlantic’s song Devilish on the radio.

 Clothes were thrown around and about in the space of the car and in that blur of clothing being discarded around, you were honestly surprised when Basilio had lifted up your lower half towards him, his lips trailing kisses down your stomach and thighs before his head disappeared in between your legs, bestowing you the best oral you’ve ever had received from him in your years of dating. You couldn’t thrash around with him holding you so tightly against his face as he went down on you but your hands were free to roam and tug at his long silken locks, his name spoken like a prayer  and just as you were about to reach your peak, he had pulled away from you, a sadistic yet innocent smirk placed upon his now glistening chin and lips coated in your slick as he spoke, “Not yet, babe.”  Winking at you, he gingerly set you down before he leaned over to where his now discarded jeans were as he pulled out his wallet, fishing out a condom and a small pack of lube for him to use. Once the foil was open and the rubber was on his already hard dick, he then proceeded to open the pack of lube, rubbing it on his length before instructing you to get on your hands and your ass up for him.

 And by Bathala you began to see stars the moment he had entered you. Your nails seemed to dig on the dark leather surface of the car’s upholstery, your back arched to the extreme and you were certain that you could feel Basilio trailing kisses along the expanse of your neck, shoulders, and back, his hands guiding you on his length while yours snaked around to reach for him, tilting your head sidewards to catch his lips in an open-mouthed kiss, his manhood still relentless at fucking you senseless and in between the thrusts and moans, you were thankful that the windows were tinted from the outside or else the two of you would’ve been caught. Throughout the whole night, you two spent it by doing it on every single surface inside the car, doing every single position the two of you could think of, taking each other to new heights with every pose the two of you did, and yes, let’s just say you were sore the morning after that.

 Once the morning came around, the two of you were still naked and you were sure that after your last round with your loving boyfriend, you felt the waves of your hang-over wash over you like a wave, making you groan out in pain. Everything was sore with you and your body was littered with hickies, bruises, and scratch marks while Basilio, who had his healing factor with him thanks to his demi-god status, was relatively unscathed but he did have some hickies of his own to present to the world. Shuffling, you gently nudged Basilio awake as you spoke, “Babe, anong oras na??”

 At your action, your boyfriend, still groggy from sleep, could only groan at this, his hand reaching out to search for his mobile phone to check the time. Squinting, he then saw the time on his phone but the color on his face seemed to drain the moment he saw several missed calls and messages from his twin brother and the Babaylan-Mandirigma herself. “SHIT!” Basilio managed to cry out of sheer panic, his head accidentally hitting against the roof of the car, making him hiss even more, hands holding the spot where he had hit his head. “Lagot tayo kay Bossing, (Y/N), kagabi pa niya tayo tinatwagan kasama ni Kuya Crispin.” At the mere mention of Alex and Crispin’s name, you seemed to understand the sense of urgency before the two of you began to clean up the car, dressing up as you did so, attempting to make yourselves look more presentable and cover the tracks from yesterday’s events. Once done, Basilio was driving like a speeding madman in a rush to head back where his brother and Alex were at.

 It took him at least an hour to arrive at their destination with Alex taking the role as today’s designated driver while Basilio sat in the back with his brother. “San ba kayo galing? Kagabi pa namin kayo tinatawagan ni Crispin, (Y/N), Basilio. Ano ba nangyare, ha?” Alex spoke, her eyes flickering over to where Basilio was, sheepishly scratching the back of his head as he spoke, “Sensya na ho, Bossing. Nag-sight seeing kasi kami ni (Y/N) kagabi tas nag-bar hoping kami tas pagkatapos nakatulog kami dito sa kotse.” A little doubtful of this, Alex could only glance at you from the corner of her eye, expecting for you to react but you held your emotions close to your heart as you spoke, “Totoo po yung sinasabi ni Basilio, bossing. Di po naming sadya na di kayo replyan ni Crispin. Di na po mauulit.” Nodding, Alex then excused the both of you and the car ride was silent, save for the fact that the radio was playing Last Friday Night by Katy Perry. You did feel a little bit cold however and you couldn’t help the fact that something was missing until Crispin screamed out in surprise, horror, and disgust, finally noticing the thing you were missing. Ah shit. “TANGINA BASILIO, ANO TO!?!?!” Crispin managed to yell out, holding up your lace underwear for everyone in the car to see with Basilio quickly snatching the piece of clothing away from his brother, tucking it in his pocket before he responded, “ANONG-ANO KA DIYAN KUYA!?! WALA KANG NAKITA!!”

You silently prayed to Bathala for him to forgive you but you were sure as hell Alex won’t. You made a mental note to not ever do it in the car you guys use for missions ever again.

[yikesharringrove]

Okay episode three let’s gooooo

Thesis statement: this is, so far, the scariest season, and I say that as a compliment. Vecna has interesting character design, although I’m pretty over cgi monsters. Give us some practical effects. Get Doug Jones in that slimey lil suit. That’s what was so good about the first season. I like the horror movies vibes, but I said this in my evaluation of ep 1, I miss the low budget monster mash that was season 1. They’ve gotten too big for their britches by now. I like how we’ve kind of switched for el always being the center of it all to Max being the center of this. Not that El isn’t still important to the story, I just like that it’s not something coming to kill el AGAIN. If they are teasing Steve and Nancy I’m gonna freak out. Then breaking up and both moving on was major character development for them BOTH. don’t ruin it like this I’m begging please.

Okay, here are the notey notes:

SAM OWENS SAM OWENS SAM OWENS

“She was trained for this very thing. Remote assassinations” sooooo, maybe vecna is one of the kids? Like one that survived that weird attack that should’ve maybe been mentioned before now in a weird flashback?

Okay this is the first time I’ve ever really liked Jonathan and it’s bc he’s High and Weird.

“Hi Murray 😄” “you kids like risotto?” “Yeah 😄🤪”

“She didn’t look fine” mike literally fuck off

Okay el has killed a lot of people and monsters and things angela took a skate to the face she is literally going to be fine and also never bully you again just chill.

Yeah the upside down is connecting to vecna, I really don’t think he’s an upside down guy.

“We’re not killers like Eddie” literally shut up Jason I wanna attack YOU with a skate.

Steve doing his fruity little wave somebody FUCK this man.

Dustin: there’s nothing to worry about

Eddie: *is wanted for murder* ??????

Nancy’s hairpin is the trans flag colors happy pride

Everyone getting out of Steve’s car like they’re the fucking Scooby Gang.

El pulling out the receipts of mike only saying “from” love that gal.

Jonathan saying he’s el’s brother and then saying stepbrother is amazing on all levels. He IS her brother but also his mom DID marry hop so he IS her stepbrother. Love it.

Steve saying “we’re at the trailer park. should we not be here?” When they’re figuring out what connects Fred and Chrissy is why he’s the first bimbo to survive the first act of the horror movie.

THEY BETTER NOT WITH THIS STEVE AND NANCY BULLSHIT. THEY BETTER NOT.

Steve: wipe your feet

Dustin: *aggressively wipes foot inside car”

Steve: oN tHe OuTsIdE nOt On ThE iNsIdE

Steve: always the babysitter. Always the GODDAMN babysitter

(Someone has been wound a lil right since their bf died. Long time no dick, huh steve?)

How can I join the weirdo garage band????? PLEASE. The drummer. I want gemder. Gimme your gemder 🔪🔪🔪

Sorry these cops interrogating this CHILD without speaking to a parent????

“Did you wanna kill her?” BRO WHAT

“We’re her brothers. And we’re family.” YES YOU ARE YES YOU ARE WILL

I spy a Volkswagen thing. My mom’s first car was a 1973 red thing and we still have it. It’s how I learned to drive stick lol

FINALLY they gave Joyce the hair she deserves. Sis got a full blowout.

Jesus, hop is really doing anything to get the fuck outta here

“So he’s a grandpa murderer who can turn invisible and lift people into the air” Robin STOP Nancy so clearly wants to claw her skin off this is amazing what a duo.

“I don’t really have a filter or understand social cues” bro. neurodivergent robin for the WIN.

“I’m missing collarbones, not eyes” STOP DUSTIN

“When you basically threw yourself at Nance” if this season ends with Steve and Nancy I’m cancelling my whole Netflix subscription. No more Netflix for the whole family. FUCK THAT.

This whole Steve and Dustin car chat made me witch cackle. “I’ll punch you so hard in the face that your teeth will fall back out” literally brothers. BROTHERS.

Max looked her shrink dead in the eye and said fuck the police.

Oh el is going to JAIL jail.

Actually nevermind rip to these guards about to be killed dead.

I LOVE a woman who wears pantyhose under slacks. Queen.

Meanwhile Hopper is cutting off his foot like it’s the first saw movie.

Steve and robin get along so well because they’re both the most annoying people alive I love them.

“Bigfoot is absolutely real” okay big time weirdo robin is EXACTLY what I needed

The basketball team avenging Chrissy like I did NOT sign up to watch riverdale on this night

I’m not saying stranger things has directly copied tremors. But that’s exactly what I’m saying.

GO LUCAS GO LUCAS GO

Sam Owens wins #1 dram queen award

[le-roi-des-bulgares]

Voltaire writes back to Frederick...

... whom he hasn’t been in regular contact with for more or less four years.

Frederick had refused Voltaire’s asking for permission to go back to Potsdam in late 1753; avoided writing to him directly but let Abbé de Prades take up the correspondence; wrote and published a satirical ‘Portrait of M. de Voltaire’ in 1756.

Despite all the name-calling (fou, méchant, ~extraordinare~, etc.) to third parties, all the prayers to heaven that Voltaire never comes back, on Jan 19th 1757, Frederick wrote a ‘tender letter’ to Voltaire, days after Russia declared her entrance into the war.

At some point in summer 1757, with Frederick’s first major defeat at the Battle of Kolin, his mother’s death, the Prussian retreat from Bohemia, he fell into a deep depression (a haunting representation painted by Menzel) and meditated suicide. Either encouraged by Wilhelmine or voluntarily, he wrote to Voltaire, thus virtually reopened their regular correspondence.

The letter hasn't been found since (as the Jan 19th one, & many others from this period), but those survived still help construct a sense of it, as well as the brief personal warmth shown between Voltaire & Frederick - both said they couldn’t care less.

Here is a collection of some extracts which I like and hope can serve to paint this exchange of letters between F & V, with Wilhelmine as their mediator, in a somewhat clearer light. These are from letters written from July to December 1757 by Voltaire, Wilhelmine and Frederick. All originals are taken from Edition Garnier & Œuvres de Frédéric le Grand. Translations are mine. Emphasis in texts are made by me. my english and french are both not so good, but i try;; so feel free to critique my usage of words etc.! 

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Frédéric au marquis d'Argens, (Leitmeritz), 19 juillet 1757.

Mon cher marquis, regardez-moi comme une muraille battue en brèche par l'infortune depuis deux ans. Je suis ébranlé de tous côtés. Malheurs domestiques, afflictions secrètes, malheurs publics, calamités qui s'apprêtent : voilà ma nourriture. Cependant ne pensez pas que je mollisse. Dussent tous les éléments périr, je me verrai ensevelir sous leurs débris avec le sang-froid dont je vous écris.

My dear marquis, see me as a wall breached by two years’ misfortunes. I am shaken on all sides. Domestic misfortunes, secret afflictions, public misfortunes, looming calamities: these are my food. Do not think that I have given away, however. Must that all elements perish, I will bury myself underneath their debris, with the cold-blood with which I am writing to you.

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 [Frederic wrote to Voltaire at some point in mid-august 1757, sent to him at Les Delices in Geneva via Wilhelmine.]

De Margrave la Baireuth à Voltaire. Le 19 août.

Je suis dans un état affreux, et ne survivrai pas à la destruction de ma maison et de ma famille. C’est l’unique consolation qui me reste. Vous aurez de beaux sujets de tragédies à travailler. Ô temps ! ô mœurs ! Vous ferez peut-être verser des larmes par une représentation illusoire, tandis qu’on contemple d’un œil sec les malheurs de toute une maison contre laquelle, dans le fond, on n’a aucune plainte réelle.

I am in an awful state, and I will not survive my house and my family’s destruction. This is the only consolation left for me. You will have handsome subjects of tragedies to work on. O time! O morals! You will perhaps make tears pour down by an illusory representation, while people contemplate on the misfortunes of a whole house with a dry eye against that which, deep down, they do not have any real pity for.

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  Voltaire à M. le Maréchal Duc de Richelieu. (a vous seul.) [Août 1757.]

Le roi de Prusse s’est remis à m’écrire avec quelque confiance. Il me mande qu’il est résolu de se tuer, s’il est sans ressource ; et madame la margrave sa sœur m’écrit qu’elle finira sa vie si le roi son frère finit la sienne.

The king of Prussia started to write to me with some trust again. He tells me that he resolved to kill himself if he is without resource; and madame la margrave his sister writes that she would end her life, if the king her brother ended his own.

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  Voltaire à M. le Comte d’Argental. Aux Délices, 12 septembre.

Les affaires de ce roi, mon ancien disciple et mon ancien persécuteur, vont de mal en pis. Je ne sais si je vous ai fait part de la lettre qu’il m’a écrite il y a environ trois semaines : J’ai appris, dit-il, que vous vous étiez intéressé à mes succès et à mes malheurs ; il ne me reste qu’à vendre cher ma vie, etc., etc. Sa sœur, la margrave de Baireuth, m’en écrit une beaucoup plus lamentable.

Allons, ferme, mon cœur, point de faiblesse humaine.

The affairs of this king, my old disciple and my old persecutor, have gone from bad to worse. I do not know if I had told you about a letter that he wrote me about three weeks ago: I learned, said him, that you were interested in my successes and my misfortunes; it only remains to sell my life dearly, etc., etc. His sister, the margrave of Bayreuth, writes me a much more lamentable one.

Go, harden up, my heart, nothing of human weaknesses.

[note: the last line is a quote from Molière’s Tartuffe, Act IV, Scene III. vendre cher sa vie means to kill a number of enemies before one’s own death.]

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 Voltaire à Madame la Margrave de Baireuth. Aux Délices, 29 août 1757.

Madame, j’ai été touché jusqu’aux larmes de la lettre dont Votre Altesse royale m’a honoré. [...] me sera-t-il permis de mettre sous votre protection cette lettre que j’ose écrire à Sa Majesté le roi votre frère ? [...] Je voudrais qu’il fût persuadé de son mérite personnel : il est au point que beaucoup de personnes de tout rang le respectent plus comme homme que comme roi. Qui doit sentir mieux que vous, madame, ce que c’est que d’être supérieure à sa naissance !

Madame, I was brought to tears by the letter Your Royal Highness honored me. [...] Will I be allowed to put this letter under your protection, which I dared write to His Majesty the king your brother? [...] I would like that he be persuaded of his personal merit: he is at a point where many people of all ranks respect him more as a man than as a king. Who would feel better than you, madame, what it is like to be superior to one's birth!

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 Frédéric à la margrave de Baireuth, Naumbourg, 9 (septembre 1757).

Ma chère sœur, viens de recevoir votre lettre du 6, avec l'incluse de Voltaire. [...] Je vous prie de vous tranquilliser l'esprit; vos inquiétudes me sont précieuses, certainement j'y suis sensible, et je vous regarde comme le seul exemple d'amitié parfaite dans ce siècle corrompu; mais, en s'inquiétant, on ne change pas le destin, et dans des circonstances où l'on doit s'attendre à tout, il faut se préparer à tout événement.

My dear sister, [I] just received your letter of the 6th, with Voltaire's enclosed. [...] I beg you to reassure your mind; your worries are dear to me, certainly I am sensible of them, and I regard you as the only example of perfect friendship in this corrupted century; but, one does not change destiny by worrying, and in the circumstances where one must expect everything, we must prepare ourselves for all events.

[last time Frederick wrote ‘this corrupted century’ to Wilhelmine was in 1730, from Cüstrin.]

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 La margrave de Baireuth à Frédéric, (15 septembre 1757) 

[note that the letter F wrote to V, which Wilhelmine speaks of, was a reply to V’s late august response, likely dated around September 9th, sent in the same package to Wilhelmine.]

Mon très-cher frère, votre lettre et celle que vous avez écrite à Voltaire, mon cher frère, m'ont presque donné la mort. Quelles funestes résolutions, grand Dieu! Ah! mon cher frère, vous dites que vous m'aimez, et vous me plongez le poignard dans le cœur. [...]. Votre sort décidera du mien; je ne survivrai ni à vos infortunes, ni à celles de ma maison. Vous pouvez compter que c'est ma ferme résolution.

My dearest brother, your letter and that which you wrote to Voltaire, my dear brother, have almost made me dead. What fatal resolutions, great God! Ah! my dear brother, you say that you love me, and you plunge a dagger into my heart. [...] Your fate will decide my own; I will survive neither your misfortunes, nor those of my house. You can count on this being my firm resolution.

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 Voltaire à Frédéric. Octobre 1757.

[...]; je vous ai appartenu, mon cœur vous appartiendra toujours.

[...]; I belonged to you, my heart will always belong to you.

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 Voltaire à Frédéric. Octobre 1757.

Vous voulez mourir ; je ne vous parle pas ici de l’horreur douloureuse que ce dessein m’inspire.[...] Écoutez contre ces sentiments votre raison supérieure ; elle vous dit que vous n’êtes point humilié, et que vous ne pouvez l’être ; elle vous dit qu’étant homme comme un autre, il vous restera (quelque chose qui arrive) tout ce qui peut rendre les autres hommes heureux : biens, dignités, amis.

[...] Je suis bientôt dans ma soixante et cinquième année, je suis né infirme ; je n’ai qu’un moment à vivre ; j’ai été bien malheureux, vous le savez ; mais je mourrais heureux, si je vous laissais sur la terre mettant en pratique ce que vous avez si souvent écrit.

You want to die; I do not speak to you here of the painful horror this plan inspires in me. [...] Listen to your superior reason against these sentiments; it [would] tell you that you are not at all humiliated, that you cannot be; it would tell you that being a man, like any other, there would remain for you (whatever happens) all those things which can make other men happy: possessions, dignities, friends. 

[...] soon I will be in my sixty-fifth year, I was born to be sick; I only have a moment [more] to live; I have been very unhappy, you know that; but I would die happy, if I left you on earth putting what you had so often written into practice.

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 Frédéric à la margrave de Baireuth, Buttelstedt, 8 octobre 1757

J'ai ri des exhortations du patriarche Voltaire; je prends la liberté de vous envoyer ma réponse. Quant au stoïcisme, je crois en avoir plus que lui, et quant à la façon de penser, il pense en poëte, et moi comme cela me convient dans le poste où le hasard de la naissance m'a placé.

I laughed at the exhortations of Voltaire the patriarch; I take the liberty to send you my response. As for stoicism, I believe myself to have more than he does, and as for the way of thinking, he thinks in poet, and I think as suited to the post which the accident of birth placed me in.

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 Frédéric à Voltaire, (Buttstedt) 9 octobre 1757.

Croyez que si j'étais Voltaire, Et particulier comme lui, Me contentant du nécessaire, Je verrais voltiger la fortune légère, Et m'en moquerais aujourd'hui. [...]

Believe me, if I was Voltaire, /and private person like him, /content with necessities, /I would see frivolous fortune flutter, /and make fun of it right at this moment.

[you send him an epistle, and say he thinks like a poet. fair enough]

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La Margrave de Baireuth à Voltaire. Le 16 Octobre.

Accablée par les maux de l’esprit et du corps, je ne puis vous écrire qu’une petite lettre. Vous en trouverez une ci-jointe qui vous récompensera au centuple de ma brièveté. Notre situation est toujours la même : un tombeau fait notre point de vue. Quoique tout semble perdu, il nous reste des choses qu’on ne pourra nous enlever : c’est la fermeté et les sentiments du cœur.

Overwhelmed by the ills of mind and body, I can only write you a little letter. You will find one enclosed [Frederick's letter from Oct 9th] which will reward you a hundred times more than my brevity. Our situation is always the same: a tomb makes our destination. Although all seems lost, there still remains for us things which cannot be taken away: firmness and sentiments of the heart.

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 [Frederick won the Battle of Rossbach on November 5]

Voltaire à M. le comte d'Argental. Au Délices, 19 novembre.

[...] Luc n’avait pas vingt-cinq mille hommes, encore étaient-ils harassés de marches et de contre-marches. Il se croyait perdu sans ressource, il y a un mois ; et si bien, si complètement perdu, qu’il me l’avait écrit ; et c’est dans ces circonstances qu’il détruit une armée de cinquante mille hommes. Quelle honte pour notre nation !

Luc had no more than twenty-five thousand men, also they were exhausted by marches and counter-marches. He believed himself to be lost without resources a month ago; and so wholly, so completely lost, as he wrote to me; and it's under these circumstances that he destroyed an army of fifty thousand men. What shame for our nation!

[Luc: cul: ass. i.e. Frederick.]

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 Voltaire à M. le comte d'Argental. 2 décembre.

Serait-il possible qu’on eût imaginé que je m’intéresse au roi de Prusse ? J’en suis pardieu bien loin. Il n’y a mortel au monde qui fasse plus de vœux pour le succès des mesures présentes. J’ai goûté la vengeance de consoler un roi qui m’avait maltraité ; il n’a tenu qu’à M. de Soubise que je le consolasse davantage.

Is it possible that people imagined I am interested in the king of Prussia? Good lord, I am very far from that. There is no mortal in the world who wishes more for success for the present situations [of France]. I tasted vengeance by consoling a king who had mistreated me; it only depends on M. de Soubise that I console him more.

[if we make him cry more i get to hug him more. O sweet vengeance!]

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[Frederick won the Battle of Leuthen on December 5]

Voltaire à M. le comte d'Argental. Lausanne, 20 décembre, au soir.

Quand les Prussiens tuent tant de monde, il faut bien aussi que je vous assassine de lettres, mon cher ange. Il est difficile que vous ayez su plus tôt que nous autres Suisses la nouvelle victoire du roi de Prusse, près de Neumarck en Silésie. Ce diable de Salomon est un terrible Philistin. La renommée le dit déjà dans Breslau ; mais il ne faut pas croire toujours la renommée.

When the Prussians are killing so many people, I must also assassinate you with letters, my dear angel. It is difficult for you to know sooner than us Swiss, about the new victory of the king of Prussia, near Neumarck in Silesia. This devil of a Solomon is a terrible Philistine. Legend says he is already in Breslau; but legend must not always be believed.

[in the 18th century philistine is perhaps used to say someone is merciless & bloodthirsty.]

----------------------------------------

I had chosen not to include a sub-plot in which Voltaire tried to connect Marechal de Richelieu with Frederick to negotiate peace between France and Prussia - which was fruitless.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Ezekiel ‘EZ’ Reyes x Obispo ‘Bishop’ Losa daughter! Reader

Anon #1 asked: Hi 💕 obsessed with your writing! I was wondering if I could request a fic where the reader is Bishops daughter so she’s jokingly referred to as a “forbidden fruit” cause she’s hot but none of the mc can have her because of who her dad is. But she starts to fall for either Angel or EZ? (Either one you pick 🤘🏼) thank you 💕💕

@ly--canthrope asked: I lied! I have a 3rd one for Ez haha. Not much of a prompt, but can you build a scene around this please? -- breaking the kiss to say something, staying so close that you’re murmuring into each other’s mouths- thank you so much!

Word Count: 1.5k

Author comments: This work wasn't re-edited, so I'm sorry if you find grammar mistakes! I hope you all enjoy. Gif credits: @xxrouxx

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @jadesamhart ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

“Yeah, you hit him hard, man”. Coco cheers EZ, once he's out of the ring and the Stockton members are picking up what is left of their prospect.

“Good job, lil'bro. You fucked up that bitch”.

“So, what's your prize, ah? Choose”. Gilly says offering him a beer.

“I'm gonna ask (Y/N) to take care of me”.

“No, no, no, no”. Coco replies, placing himself in front of him to stop his feet.

“The hell you sayin', brother? That bitch left your brain out of you, or what?” Angel narrows his eyes, shaking lightly his head.

“She's the forbidden fruit, carnal. Don' get into more troubles”. The mexican with long hair speaks.

“Prez looks happy teasing Oscar because I won”.

“Prez looks happy 'cause it's his daughter's birthday. ‘Best day of his life’, as he always says”. Gilly surrounds his neck with an arm, while continuing walking to the bar on the crowded yard.

“I will do it anyway”. Having a long sip of his beer, EZ gives it to his brother, taking the advantage to look for you.

You're sitting close to your father, clinged to one of his arms, having fun with your tíos and your family from other charters. It's your 21th birthday and Bishop decides to have a party with all the Mayans. So, the whole Santo Padre knows you're celebrating. It's the first time you see them all reunited, being the center of attention even if you don't like it. Every five minutes, a member walks closer to greet you, as if you were some kind of princess. Yes, your father is El Rey de los Mayas, but you're not sure what position it gives you.

Your eyes travel to the crowd, observing the younger Reyes coming with self-confidence and security towards your position. Sitting up on your chair, you smirk at him trying to not show how nervous you are. Should be illegal see this fucking good after a fight. You like him. You like him at the point you dream with him. But it's a shit that he hides what he feels because of Bishop. Just like you do. He's the most interesting man you have never known. Sometimes you try to figure out why the hell he joined Mayans, but then you see him riding his bike and your head goes blank.

“Congratulations, Ezekiel”. Your father compliments him with a huge smile on the corner of his lips.

“Thanks, presidente. I was… asking myself if (Y/N) could help me to fix me up. Angel sa—”.

“No”. “Yes”.

Bishop and Marcus talk in unison. The men look at each other, frowning a little. You're in the middle of them, raising your hands to both chests.

“Club business, caballeros”. Making fun of them, you get up from your chair holding EZ's hand.

You let him lead you to the inside of the clubhouse, looking for the medical kit to heal his face. Letting go his fingers tangled in yours, you cross the main hallway to the bathroom to take all the stuff you can need. Carrying it among your hands, you come back to the younger Reyes with that smile that makes your legs shake since you met him a year ago.

You ring the bell, holding with a hand the glass tray full of tamales, your best friend's favorite mexican dish. Coco opens the door with a cigar between his long fingers and a serious look on his face.

“We don' wan' publicity, thanks”. He says before trying to close the door on your nose.

“Don' you have a moment to talk about our lord Itzamná?” You joke on him, hitting the wood with a shoulder to come in.

“Ah, bueno, si es un Maya… pues sí, digo, no más, pasa, pasa”. (Well, if it's a Mayan… of course, come in, come in). He replies gesticulating exaggeratedly, starting to laugh.

“What's up, Coquito?”

The mexican takes the food from your hands, leaning to leave a loud kiss on your check.

“Hey, lil'mama”. The oldest Reyes surrounds your neck with both arms from behind you, kissing the top of your head. “Come're, I wanna introduce you to my brother”.

“The famous Ezekiel”.

“Oh, stop”. He clicks his tongue somewhat jealous, leading you to the kitchen. “Hey, EZ. That's (Y/N), Prez's daughter. So, don' try anything sexual with that smile yours”.

“Angel!” You break in laughs, before focusing on his brother.

“What's up? I'm Ezekiel, but everybody calls me EZ”. The younger Reyes leans forward surrounding your waist with an arm, pushing you closer to kiss your cheek.

You already know that you're fucked and in love.

“Don' lie, brother. We all call you ‘boy scout’!” Coco's words make you both laugh.

“You like adventures?” You ask trying to not sound as if you're flirting. But you are.

“And you?”

“Of course”.

“Yeah, well… What can I say then? I can make fire with everything, that's a good point if you wanna go hiking”.

“I'll keep it in mind, boy scout”.

EZ sits on the poker table, settling yourself between his legs to make it easier to clean the blood on his face with a wet soft towel. He doesn't set apart his eyes from you, on how focused you are on taking care of him. As if he was the most delicate thing in your life. And you're trying to not fall more for him, in case that it's possible. He doesn't need stitches, being enough using some iodine to cover the wounds. Looks like you're an artist in front of her masterpiece, watching him breathe somewhat nervous too close of you.

“I asked for a birthday wish that you don' kiss me tonight”. You mumble, getting lost in his eyes with both hands resting on his lap.

You're not going to blame the alcohol you have been drinking, but you're not in your best moment.

“Saying it will not be fulfilled”.

You can feel his long fingers, a little damaged, touring your hips until they flow on your lower back making you take a last step forward.

“Analyze the phrase, smart boy”.

Narrowing his eyes, and having some seconds, EZ begins to draw a sly smile shaking his head for an instant. Now, he has understood it.

“You wan' me to kiss you?”

“Technically, I don' want you to no kiss me”. You point out, emphasizing each word, containing a loud laugh. “That's what I said. More or less”.

“Tonight”.

“Yeah', tonight”.

“What about tomorrow?” He mutters, raising up a hand to the right side of your neck, caressing the line of your jaw with a thumb.

“I don't know, EZ… I think my last brain cell collapsed”. Pursing your lips, you're almost touching his.

He laughs between his teeth, before kissing you. Your heart has collapsed too, when the adventurous hand goes up to the back of your head, while your mouths fit like two pieces of a puzzle. In perfect harmony. No rush. No nerves. Nothing. You're calmed, enjoying the taste of beer on his tongue, and the taste of tequila on yours. His lips aren't soft, but you're in love with them, with him, right as he is. Al carajo with that your father said. If he is playing his skin for you, you're going to do the same.

Your fingers roam his bare chest, noticing that he's breathing somewhat better, pressing his hand on your back to push you a little closer. Up to his neck, your fingers wrap it softly while he bites your lower lip so sensual that, if he wasn't holding you, you could fall down.

“Your father is watching us”. He whispers onto your mouth, caressing your nose with his.

Your cheeks are burning when you turn between EZ's legs to the main door. Bishop is resting against the frame having a drag of his cigar and carrying a closed bottle of tequila. You know what it means. You made him the promise that you would get drunk together, now that you can ‘legally’ drink.

“I have… to leave. Put some ice on your knuckles, okay?” You say to the younger Reyes, and he simply nods.

El presidente is killing him with his look, offering you a hand to hold it and take you away from the prospect. Going downstairs, he puts his eyes on you with an incredulous gesture.

“It could be worse, dad”.

“Oh, really? Surprise me, mi amor”.

“Could be Angel, instead of EZ”.

“Why the fuck you have an answer for everything, ah?”

“C'mon, dad! It's my birthday”.

“Yeah, the anniversary of the best day of my life. But we're going to talk about it tomorrow”.

[thehammondlegacy]

Willow Palace - King Henry’s office

Henry: No, the Crown Princess is spending New Year’s Eve in Oasis Springs. My son can take over that engagement. Hold on a minute, please. Yes, Luke!

Luke: The Princess Royal and Princess Alecsia are here to see you, Your Majesty.

Henry: Now? Is it urgent?

Luke: It seems so, Sir.

Henry: Alright, I’ll be there in a minute. *goes back to his phone call* I’ll have to call you later, Amada. Something came up.

Willow Palace - Family room

Alecsia: What’s taking him so long?!

Ophelia: He’s the King, Lecsie! We have to wait for him.

Alecsia: We are his sisters! He always has time for his children, but never for us!

Ophelia: Oh, grow up!! You are an adult now! Besides, what else do you have to do today?

Alecsia: Many things, sister!

Henry: I’m sorry to keep you waiting. It’s a busy day. How are you?

Ophelia: Good, how are you? 

Alecsia: You look tired!

Henry: It’s nice to see you too Lecsie! I have to say I’m surprised to see you both of you here together. It’s been a while since your last visit.

Alecsia: Ask Phelie! She was the one who wanted to speak with you and I.

Henry: Ok, tell us what you need, Phelie.

Ophelia: Alright. This is not going to be easy...

Alecsia: Nothing in our life is easy, dear.

Henry: Let her speak!

Ophelia: I wish to stop being an active member of the royal family.

Henry: What? Why? You are still very young!

Ophelia: This is the hard part. I’m sick.

Alecsia: Oh, no!

Ophelia: The doctors found a malignant tumor in my stomach. It’s cancer.

Henry: Jesus! Phelie, I’m so sorry!

Alecsia: Is it curable?

Ophelia: They need to remove it first and then I’ll have to go through quemo.

Henry: So, it is curable?

Ophelia: It is treatable, but we are not sure if it’s a hundred percent curable.

Alecsia: Oh, Phelie! We’ll fight this together!

Henry: Yes, of course! We’ll help you through it, and you can take as much time off as you need, but I think it’s better if you don’t retire quiet yet. I think it’s good to have something waiting for you after the treatment is over.

Ophelia: Harry, I wish I could come back, but I’m very tired! If I make it, I want to spend time with my children and with Mattew. This life is no longer for me.

Henry: Well, you are not the one doing this for life, so whatever you choose I won’t stop you. 

Ophelia: Thank you, Harry. There’s one more thing I need to ask both of you.

Alecsia: Name it!

Ophelia: If the worst were to happen, I need you to take care of my family. Anne is lost. She has no ambitions and she’ll need someone to guide her. Mattew is an amazing father, but he doesn’t understand what it means to be born in this family. Anne will need you by her side. I know George will be fine, but he’ll need-

Henry: Stop! You shouldn’t be doing this, Phelie. You are not dying now! We are going through this treatment together, and if it doesn’t work, then we’ll have this discussion. Besides, you know we won’t leave your family alone.

Alecsia: Yes, they are our family too, you know!

Ophelia: I know, but I can’t help it! I’m more worried about them being alone than about me dying soon!

Henry: You are not dying! I’m the eldest! I have to go first, and that’s it! So, we are going to stop talking about this, and focus our attention of making you better, is that clear?

Ophelia: Yes, but you don’t have to go through this with me. Mattew will be by my side.

Alecsia: Yeah, right! Like we are leaving you alone with Mattew! We are doing this together! That’s what Papa taught us to do! 

Henry: He would kill us if we left you alone. And we love you! You are our sister, and we’ll always be by your side!

Ophelia: Thank you... To both of you!

Henry: You’ll be fine! We’ll take care of you.

Alecsia: Of course we will! “Mattew will be by my side” Ha! I can hear Mama saing how silly you sound!

Ophelia: I love you, Lecsie!

Alecsia: I love you too, sis.

Henry: Aww, look at you two! You are so nice when you are not fighting!

Alecsia: Don’t ruin this, Harry!

[for-my-own-om-ent]

om boys with a foreign mc who switches to first language when feeling strong emotions

LUCIFER

• he had always been mean to Mammon ever since mc came here

• he'd been very stressed that day so he's scolding him since morning

• poor Mammon couldn't step foot out of his room without getting on the eldest's nerves

• mc had always been an advocate for leaving the white haired boy live peacefully, but Lucifer just went too far that day

• 'Lulu, dar mai lasa omul in plata Domnului! Toata ziua ii stai in cap ca o palarie!' ('Lulu, leave the guy alone for God's sake! You're on top of his head like a hat!')

• being demons, they both understood since it wasn't that hard to comprehend a language they've been alive to see develop

• Mammon nearly cried from laughter which only made Lucifer more annoyed

• the eldest will definitely mock MC on their dialect and accent

• seems unbothered but boiling inside

MAMMON

• MC had been helping him with his history essay while he'd do their maths homework

• 'thanks for helping, Mammon' they said before writing the finishing sentence

• 'money would've been a better thanks but yer welcome, MC'

• he'd finished the homework long before MC but knew better than to annoy the person who'd help him pass

• but now that they finished he might as well start being annoying

• 'next time ya might as well go bother someone else with your idiocy. i'm a busy guy ya know'

• 'of.. eu ce sa fac daca mi esti drag?' ('oh~ but what could i possibly do if i hold you so dear?')

• MC knew he'd get flustered and after calling them an idiot what could've been better than mocking him

LEVIATHAN

• they were playing a game with some of Levi's online friends

• MC, already annoyed with the fact that they weren't alone with Levi, was also pretty pissed at the skills of some of them

• Levi could sense MC s envy, him being the literal Avatar of Envy, but not understanding where it came from didn't act on it

• the more they played the more tense and annoyed MC grew and Levi didn't mind it

• he kind of fed from their jealousy

• but at one point one of the people playing just made the most idiotic move so MC just couldn't contain it

• 'Frate, ce are in capu ala? Tarata?' ('what do they have in that head of theirs? oats?')

• Levi, for the first time in forever, got distracted from the game

• he was endlessly embarrassed that MC did that but the choice of their words was way too much for him to handle

• he started laughing while his face was lobster red from the embarrassment

SATAN

• he was very aware of MC's Romanian heritage given the fact that they've exchanged books in the language

• even so he's never heard them speak it

• he thought it was because MC was embarrassed of their dialect or accent

• he never insisted since he didn't want to make them uncomfortable

• one day before a test at RAD everybody was stressed beyond belief and MC was no exception

• as Satan was walking towards them to comfort them he heard them talking to themselves

• 'daca ai putut sa suporti presiunea cand i-ai explicat lui Lulu cu ce i -ati patat canapeaua, asta-i nimic' ('if you could stand the embarrassment when you had to explain to Lulu what was it you stained his couch with, this will be nothing')

• Satan was pretty amused

• loved their accent and wanted to hear more and louder

• he approached them in Romanian in hopes that they won't notice his intentions

• 'cu ce ati patat-o?' ('what did you stain it with?')

• 'of nu pot sa traiesc rusinea din nou' ('i can't re-live the shame') they sighted

• 'intreaba-l pe Belphie' ('go ask Belphie')

ASMODEUS

• MC had been calling Asmo by his nickname since forever

• no one ever questioned their ability to pronounce it fully and Asmo loved the way his nickname sounded when it rolled out of MC's mouth so they never had to

• one day MC called Asmo from the kitchen to ask about one of his refrigerated skincare thingys

• 'honey, how come you call me just like the Romans used to?'

• he was most amused by that

• MC was flustered at his remark

• they hated how 'Asmodeus' sounded in English accent and refused to say it like that but it would've been no use to discuss it with him

• 'well the Romans are my ancestors'

• 'still, i can't help but wonder if it's really that you can't pronounce it' Asmo teased as if he wasn't aware

• 'uhm yes i can' MC was already a bit annoyed

• 'i dunno i mean if i were able to say it right i would' Asmo continued excited for MC's reaction

• 'Iisuse, Asmo! Daca vrei sa-ti stalcesc numele si sa iasa ca si cand l-am mestecat inainte sa-l spun te pot anunta de pe acum ca nu o voi face!' ('Jesus, Asmo! If you want me to ruin your name and for it to sound as if i chewed it before saying it i can already announce you that i will not do so!') MC said and didn't really realise they switched languages

• 'oh my, dear' Asmo jumped in surprise but continued 'the way you talk so freely and harshly.. you should really speak to me like this more often~'

BEELZEBUB

• MC wasn't feeling so well

• it was nothing serious but the guys still exagerated beyond belief and took shifts to take care of them

• it was Beel's turn to feed them and keep them warm, happy and entertained

• MC had given up on trying to explain they just had the mildest headache and agreed to themselves they shut up from then on if they'd ever have an issue again

• Beel decided that food was the best remedy and brought a lot of snacks for him and MC

• he was trying immensely hard to not eat anything he brought which concerned MC

• they started eating to try to make Beel eat too

• it was starting to feel kind of eerie

• 'hey Beel, aren't you gonna eat?'

• '... oh.. no, you should eat..'

• MC understood he was scared for their life but it wasn't even as much as a cold that's no need for starvation

• MC hesitantly brought one of the chocolate bars to Beel s mouth and softly asked him to eat

• '...Beel, te rog mananca cu mine. Am sa ma simt mai bine.' ('Beel, please eat with me. I'll feel much better.')

• realising he's scared MC he let himself eat as much as he wanted

• didn't even notice the change of language but felt a bit warmer and closer to them

BELPHEGOR

• MC and Belphie had been napping for a while when Beel woke them up for a snack

• MC is a sucker for snacks so they were quick to try to get Belphie up

• Belphie really wasn't having it

• while MC was trying to get him up he only did as much as groan

• 'Belphegor, naiba ma ia daca am sa pierd ocazia de a manca din cauza ta' ('Belphegor, on hell i won't miss snack time because of you')

• he was a bit shocked but too sleepy to show it

• only then he realised one of his favourite things about humans (languages) was so close to him

[not-a-red-rose]

Bit of a long read.

Warning: Topics are somehow sensitive, but please read, for this is also a way of education (or maybe you’ll just find out I’m a bad person, that depends lol.) But if you’ve got time, if you can make time, please read this. I accept constructive criticisms, some arguments that do not involve ad hominem, and additions if ever you are willing to say there is.

So, it's been approximately 5 years since I strayed away from being masungit and maldita (mean and snobby), because my Mom and Dad got a lot of trouble because of it (I did get a lot of trouble, too, only I didn't mind, because I really didn't care) and now I love being compassionate and kind

I really do, because I can't also stand an environment where most of the people are mean-spirited and always angry. I wanted to build a soft and light environment, so I tried to be soft and light, too.

Because change starts within, don’t you think?

So I did, and I became very good at it.

It feels great to see and watch people grow comfortable with their own skin around you because you don't judge them. It feels great to see and watch people love themselves more because they can see that you love them for who they are. It feels great to make people feel great and give them the love they deserve, because we are all human, and we don't deserve to always be shut down by people who suffer inside of themselves. So we create bonds, we love people for who they are, we eat with them, we cry with them, we laugh with them, we pat their backs when they are defeated and helpless, we shout “I’m proud of you!” to their faces when we feel proud of them, and we begin being kind.

But now that I have been terribly woken up by realizations, shaped by my experiences, and taught with other's advices, I am also beginning to see the predators in our forest.

I will sometimes think that maybe we aren't always aware that we are being predators, sometimes we are as clueless as the preys and we don't know any better. Sometimes we can be the toxic ones, too, so there is no point in stopping our self-development and realizations. Everyone starts as clueless and inexperienced— oftentimes, a monster isn’t a monster because he is evil, it is because he refuses to change so, even when he knows he is.

Bad people only become truly bad when they don’t care about being better.

I am not perfect, I am not all-knowing, I became a predator, too, for far too many times than I can count, and I am still trying and learning how not to be. But here are some of the things I realized:

• The awful mindset of our society is that if someone's kind, they are supposed to tolerate everything you do. (even and especially gaslighting, guilt-tripping, backstabbing then denying it later, always saying "yes," and being soft even when hurt and angry.)

No. People who are kind do not deserve such abuse and manipulation (we don’t deserve abuse and manipulations,) so please, quit saying, “mabait naman ‘yan si ano e, okay lang ‘yan sa kan’ya!” (Don’t stress about it too much, she’s kind, so that’ll be okay for her!)

And what, you’re going to victim-blame again? You’ll say, “you’re too kind, you’re teaching people to step all over you.” Dude, I’m not teaching them anything like that, really, they are teaching that to themselves because they want to abuse and take advantage of the kindness. If there is no kindness because kind people took your advice to not be kind so people won’t step all over them, then what would become of our world? Common sense, sweetheart.

• Normalize saying no. If you mean no, say no. If you mean maybe, say maybe. If you mean I’ll try, say I’ll try. If you mean yes, say yes. Normalize saying and receiving no, not everyone has to agree and do what you suggest them to do.

Normalize saying no, if no is what you want to say. I don't care if they hail you as a saint and they label you as someone who tolerates everything. Say no if you mean no. Say it firmly. Don't waver. Your voice may shake but say no if what you mean is no.

(“Normalize saying no” doesn't just tackle suitors and people who want to be your lover. This also tackles people you don't want to spend time with, things you don't want to do, places you don't want to go to, words you don't want to say, and etc.)

say no. say it loudly. say it firmly.

• Unfortunately, we are not educated about gaslighting and guilt-tripping, or any psychological/mental manipulations, enough to defend our own selves from manipulators, narcissists, and terrible behaviors of people.

We should be educated.

Please read verified and credible articles about it, listen to classes when it’s the topic, research about it, observe it. You may be doing it, too, so please learn about it.

• We should stay away from "friends" who hurt, invalidate, manipulate, abuse, and force you to do things you do not want to do. I don't care if it makes you alone-- alone is better than being with people who will just use and hurt you.

• Do not try to repaint red flags. Red flags are red flags, unless you are color blind, although please do not be figuratively color blind. If you cannot settle it through peaceful conversations and negotiations, it’s time to cut ties. CUT TIES. No one is important enough, for you to stay with them even when they exhaust and drain the hell outta you. Let them go. If they don’t wanna walk away, then you do the walking away. Don’t stay there. Life is too short to deal with people who take and take and take and take your peace and who obliges you to fix them.

• I do not have any idea how to say this properly— but you cannot expect your romantic partner/ lover to take the heavy weight of your mental messes and emotional baggage just because you cannot deal with it yourself. Stop dropping all the weight to someone and expecting them to fix you because you are broken.

I am not invalidating the love lives of lovers who stay through each other’s destructive jealousies and insecurities— I am only saying that we don’t have to. We aren’t obligated to fix an individual just because we love them. That’s what’s cruel there, when we find someone we can and will love and we would like them to be in our future, but they come across as toxic and draining and destructive, and they don’t want to adjust to be a better person, we gotta let go of them.

It is always your choice if you’re going to stay with them— if you can and you want to, then stay. If you can’t and you don’t want to, then don’t.

This may sound harsh and (even) evil, but normalize leaving people when you cannot deal with them any longer. Normalize leaving people. Normalize people leaving you. Those who can and who want to stay will stay, will always find reasons to come back, and will always stay. Remember that.

• Normalize rebuking and criticizing the ideas of the people who make rape, poverty, mental illness, and anything-that-shouldn’t-be-joked-about jokes. Normalize criticizing, standing up to it whether it came from your parents, a very dear friend, or a romantic partner. Sensitivity shall not be filtered. Respect shall not be filtered. Note that I said “ideas of the people” not “the people” because we should not hate people so easily, maybe they just need a little education, a little more push to leave that mindset and perspective.

Well, if they have been presented with enough and sufficient facts of why they shouldn’t think like that and shouldn’t joke about that, but they still haven’t changed their mind, let us go back to what I said earlier.

Bad people only become truly bad when they don’t care about being better. :>

• Say what you mean and mean what you say (this one is the hardest so far because man, we are reckless with words.) Like what I said earlier— about the saying no. If you say yes, darling, I do hope you mean yes. If you make a promise, do your best to meet it! Treat your words like they represent your dignity, because oftentimes, they do. You believe it or not, words are powerful. It can heal and mend, but it can also tarnish and destroy.

“The words you speak become the house you live in.” ― Hafiz

• We all need healing. We all have wounds we need to heal from. I do not know jack about your problems and you might not know about mine, but we cannot deny that we need healing. Because if we deny, and we think that we’re a-ok even when we are not, the wounds will remain wounds and we will bleed on people who did not cause it. We will punish others because we are experiencing anguish inside of us. Do not let that be you. Be soft on yourself enough to acknowledge that you are hurt and in need of healing— that way, you are soft and tender with others, too.

• What you feel isn’t always what I feel, and what I feel isn’t always what you feel. We have different capacities, different perspectives, different emotional wavelengths. What’s trouble for me can not be trouble for you, and vice versa. However, that does not give us any power to disregard what others feel. We need a lot of understanding in this life, and acceptance towards the diversity of every aspect in our lives. Respect is needed, always respect. Respect should be the default (that being a default, it can also be lost).

(But this^^ doesn’t always apply to all things such as being homophobic and racist, because that perspective and mindset drives one to disrespect existence, and even act out violently, set prejudices and be downright inhumane. That is not what I am talking about.)

This is not all, but if I type all I might accidentally write a book about it, so this stops, for now. Note that your understanding of the words I’ve said depends on how well you interpret it, whether you have prejudices or you do not, whether you will use it for good purposes or for bad.

[walkineternity]

Day 3: Delirium

(The Umbrella Academy x Sandman)

Klaus knew he was in trouble.

He had overdosed again. He tried to stay clean, for Ben and Vanya, for his other siblings, and for Dave. He so very much wanted to see Dave.

 But. He tried, okay. Tried so very fucking hard, and everyone was so focussed on Vanya that his efforts weren’t exactly…supported. Ben, of course, knew. And Klaus was grateful to have him. And he didn’t really blame everyone for not paying attention to him. They never really did that in the first place, unless he was causing trouble. And this time, it was because Vanya had nearly ended the world and he got that. He really did. He was trying to be there for them.

 But. He was an addict, okay. He can admit that. And…it was so hard to stay clean. He was so fucking high right now. He was so fucking sick right now. And Ben was yelling at him again.

 “Fuck! I can’t do this again, Klaus! You were doing so well! Fuck! I can’t even pick up the phone to call the ambulance can I! No! You are going to die in this alleyway and then I’m going to have nobody to talk to and, and, and you can’t leave me alone! Please, Klaus, please! Shit, okay, I’m going to try and get help, okay? I’m going to try.”

 Klaus felt himself drift. Ben was still talking, but then suddenly everything was quiet. He didn’t really get how he could still hear Ben with all the drugs in his system, but the other spirits had quieted down. And now, finally, Ben was gone too. He was going to die alone. Like he fucking deserved. His eyes shut, closing over tears that never fell and let the fog take him…

 Next thing he knew there was something licking his face. Okay, still alive. Still dying. Probably. He opened his eyes.

 Well. Where was he? This wasn’t the alleyway anymore. Maybe he wasn’t dying and he was already dead. But this wasn’t heaven. This was…he wasn’t sure. There were explosions of colours and shapes twisting in and out of existence and he felt simultaneously the highest he’s ever been and stone cold sober. He felt like he was awake and dreaming at the same time.

 And in the midst of all this madness, there was a rather ordinary looking dog, who was licking his face.

 “Well, hey there, boy. You wouldn’t happen to know the way back to reality now, would you?”

 He didn’t know what to expect at this point. And yet it still startled him when the dog stopped licking his face and spoke back. “Ah. You’re awake. Good. You don’t taste very good.”

 Klaus frowned. “Actually, I’m a snack. A delicious- wait. I’m…awake.” He sits up and looks around. Nothing was solid. There was no up and no down and he had no clue what he was sitting on because reality kept changing. Okay, he was definitely going crazy. “I don’t think I’m awake.”

 “Hm. Well. In a manner of speaking. And in another, you’re dead.”

 “Huh.”

 “You don’t sound surprised.”

 “Well, I’ve been dead before. And really, I was asking for it anyways.”

 The dog tilted its head, considering him, “I should be more specific. You’re only mostly dead, this time. This isn’t Death’s realm, but her sister’s.”

 “…mostly dead? What am I? The man in black now?” Klaus hadn’t seen the movie until his teens, when he was homeless and couch-surfing. Or rather bed-surfing. And old lover had the movie on VHS.

 “I don’t know what that means.” The dog huffed and then said, “I’m Barnabas, by the way. Not that you asked.”

 “Aw, what an adorable name!” Klaus tried to pet him, but Barnabas looked mildly offended and ducked his head away. He looked like he was about to say something snippy when a bunch of brightly coloured fish swam past his head. Klaus had been trying to ignore his surroundings for the sake of his own sanity, but this caught his attention.

 And then the…strangest voice followed after. “Ohhh, fishies! Come back here! …Hi, Barnabas!” He couldn’t really describe it. He could understand it, and for the most part it sounded like a young women’s voice, but something was distinctly…otherworldly. The voice sounded how this world looked. Chaotic, ever-changing, pitches and stresses in all the wrong places. It would have been called musical, if it wasn’t so discordant.

 And then a figure stepped out of the swirls of colours and then he realised that nothing was ever going to make sense in here. She was colourful herself. Rainbow hair cut in an odd style. Two different coloured eyes and the oddest combination of clothes.

 Though, honestly, he couldn’t say anything about his clothes. Currently, he was sporting the same outfit he wore in the real world and, frankly, wasn’t to off from this figure’s choice of clothes.

 Well, at least they had something in common. “Nice shoes,” he tries.

 The woman (girl? Young lady?) was talking to the dog and the fish, but turned to him at the sound of his voice. She drifted closer and peered down at him.

 “Well, hello there, traveler. You seem a little lost.”

 Klaus shrugged. She giggled. “Welllll, I suppose that’s, uh, that’s what you call life, now, isn’t it? Just a little bit lost and a lot bit lost! Go-ing on Forever!”

 Barnabas came a bit closer to her, to sit beside her, not quite touching, but close. Like he meant to offer her comfort. She absentmindedly scratched his ears, but still didn’t look away from Klaus. Oh, was he supposed to offer a reply?

“Well, I’m hoping that’s not the case. I’ve been trying, lately, you see, to settle down a bit. Stay clean and, y’know, be there for my family. Try to…have a home, a proper one.” His voice grew more unsure as he continued to speak.

 She was staring at him as he spoke, but not in his eyes. Just looking there briefly and then looking at his shirt and then his hair. Listening, but just couldn’t keep completely still. As she did, her nail polish changed colour and her ears changed shape and the rainbow in her hair shifted. This whole place was topsy-turvy. Strange how a talking dog named Barnabas was the sanest thing in here.

 She looked back up briefly into his eyes and then down at her feet. “It’s Nice to do things for fa-mi-ly. I have many Siblings too. I like to help them sometimes. You said I have nice shoes. Would you like to wear them? We can trade!”

 “Um.” Klaus wasn’t really sure what to say. “I don’t think our feet are the same size?”

 She frowned. “Oh, what does that matter? Its just for fuunnn. C’mon!” And she proceeded to take off her shoes. Which, were just as colourful as her hair. Rainbow boots that had really neat buckles shaped like the fish that swam around their heads.

 His were a solid black heel, stolen from Allison. They pinched his toes, not being the proper size, but they made his legs look gorgeous.

 Allison probably wasn’t going to be happy to learn her shoes were traded away, but then again, she probably wasn’t going to be happy with him either way. If he ever made it back, that is.

 He decided he should probably say all that out loud, and then he did, because they really weren’t his shoes, but the girl in front of him just sat down to better take of her shoes. “Oh, you’ll get out of Here eventu-ally. I like you, but you’re not mine to keep.” She finally managed to pull off both her boots. She was wearing mismatched socks, but those seemed to vanish. “And your family is just worried about you. If your sssister is mad, it’s only because she cares. You should ask them for help.”

 He shrugged and easily kicked off his own shoes, accidently kicking it too close to Barnabas. The dog just looked long-suffering.

 “They just think I’m useless and crazy. Well, maybe not Ben, but I’m not exactly doing my best there, y’know? He deserves to follow someone else around. Someone who won’t disappoint him again.”

 The girl hummed. “They say I’m crazzzzy too. But that’s alright. Mad-ness isn’t always a Bad thing….it helps when I know too much. Sometimes its nice to have a break from san-i-ty.” Here she started to slip on the heels and gestured at the boots, so Klaus grabbed one and put it on, stamping a little to get his heel in. Huh. Perfect fit. She continued, “And just because I’m mad, doesn’t mean my siblings don’t care about me. Doesn’t mean I don’t care about them. We aallll make mistakes, even Beings such as us, even little ones such as you, and we…oh, shoot, Barnabas! What’s the word? The- the Big one.”

 She glanced around as if the word she was looking for would suddenly appear. “You know. When the butterflies are iiiinn your body instead of outside them. Like stepping off the edge of a cliff, but knowing there is Someone to catch you, or for you to catch them.”

 Barnabas opened his mouth to say something, but she snapped her fingers (which made Klaus do a doubletake when the snap sound created visual shockwaves of colour, like they were in some sort of comic book), and then said, “Oh! Love! It’s lo-ve. We all love each other the same. They loved me when I was Delight, and they still love me as Delirium. I mean, look at Bar-na-bas!” She gestured with a heel in her hand. The dog sat a little straighter. “He was a gift to me from one of my bro-thers, to care and look afterrr me, and we’ve become such good friends! Destruction cares in his own way, and I know your siblings do too. You just got-ta….gotta ask, okay?”

 Barnabas smiled slightly. It looked a bit weird on a dog, but it seemed gentle. “I think we are the very best friends, my dear Delirium.”

 She put the other heel on and bounced up onto them, smiling at them both, at the world around them, at the tiny fish swimming above her head. The black of the heels swirled with spots of colour, but mostly stayed the same.

 Klaus finished doing up the buckles on both shoes and stood up too. He reached a hand up and the fish swam through his fingers and around his arm. The rainbow shoes felt warm and comfortable on his feet. He felt a bit giddy. He gave her a big grin and said, “Yeah. Okay. Sure. If I ever manage to get out of here, I’ll ask. Why not!”

 She gave him a grin in return. To match. Though hers stretched a little too far on her face. Still friendly, but not exactly a human smile. Her eyes changed colours too, but never the same colours at the same time. A fish swam in front of her face and this distracted her from him.

 “Well, how do I get out of here anyways? Not that I don’t mind your company, I should be getting back to the real world.”

 She looked back at him and seemed to startle a little bit. “Ohhhh, what were we talking about?”

 He blinked and looked at her and then looked at Barnabas, who said to her, in a reassuring manner, “It wasn’t important. Klaus was leaving soon anyways.”

 “Hm. My he-ad hurts. Was I talking Rightly again? That always Hurts.”

 “Yes, Delirium, but you don’t have to anymore. Why don’t we help Klaus go home and then play with the fish?”

 Klaus frowned at Barnabas in confusion. Delirium laughed joyfully and said, “Well, hell yeah! There’s only a few swimming around, buuuut I can make more!” She proceeded to spin around and do exactly that.

 Barnabas sidled closer to Klaus and said, “She does that, sometimes.”

 “What? Forgets?”

 “No. Remembers. The advice she gave you? How coherent she spoke? Does not happen often. You should take heed. The knowledge she has…is vast. So vast that it seems to…hurt her. Now, it’s time for you to go.” He didn’t say this roughly, but there was a sadness when he spoke.

 “Thanks,” Klaus said, heartfelt. “And thank her for me, too, even if she doesn’t remember.”

 Delirium wandered back over with a great many more fish swimming around, some bigger than others. Some so small he could barely see in the swirl of colours and shapes. “Oh yes! You!” She tapped him firmly on the forehead and said, “Say the magic words!”

 “Um, please-”

 “Wrong, so wrong. Try again.” And here she clicked her new heels three times.

 Klaus couldn’t help it. He laughed. He saw that movie too. And then he copied her action and said the “magic” words, “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no pla-”

 And then he was in an ambulance, the paramedic’s expression triumphant and relieved. Ben, hovering over him on the other side, looked similar.

 “Klaus, don’t ever do that to me again. You are so lucky there was this goth lady around. Apparently, you aren’t the only one that can speak to the dead. She was pretty Zen about the whole thing. Said it wasn’t your time and managed to find a nearby payphone. She didn’t even ask why I couldn’t call the ambulance myself!”

 Ben sounded a bit hysterical. The paramedic seemed to be chattering away as he checked Klaus’ vitals. Klaus felt himself tearing up. He could still feel the drugs in his system. “I’m so sorry, Ben. I can’t do this-”

 “C’mon, Klaus! I know you’re stronger- what about Dave-”

 “No, shit, Ben, just- I can’t do this alone, okay? I-I really need. I need help. I want to stay clean. Please. I just- please. I can’t do this alone.”

 The paramedic wasn’t paying attention to his babble, too focussed on actually keeping him alive, but Ben was listening intently. He tried to lay his hand on Klaus’ shoulder, but his hand passed through. Klaus shivered. Ben looked disappointed, but not surprised. He settled for leaning over, close to Klaus’ face, and said, “Never, Klaus. I’m here, okay. And the others…we’ll ask for help from them too. We’re all trying to be a family, right? And….and whatever you need.”

 Klaus felt tears in his eyes and with a rough voice he said, “Thank you, Ben. I always knew you were my favourite brother.”

 Ben rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged the corner of his lips. “Oh, please. I’ll remember that next time you say that to any of our other siblings.”

 “Why would Allison or Vanya be my favourite brother?”

 “Fuck off, you know what I meant.” Okay, definitely a smile now.

 And then Ben happened to glance at his feet. “Klaus, where the hell did you get those?”

 Klaus looked at his feet and saw that he wasn’t wearing Allison’s heels, but rainbow boots. Huh. So not a drug-induced dream.

 “Klaus?”

 “I’ve been thinking, Ben.”

 “Oh no. I didn’t know you could do that.” He gestured at the boots. “Are you not going to answer?”

 Klaus ignored him and stared at the boots. “I’ve been wondering if they might allow aquariums in rehab.”

 Ben stared at him a little. But he was also long used to Klaus saying weird stuff. “Well. If we manage to use some of dad’s fortune for rehab, they’ll allow us as many fish as we want. If…if that’s what you wanted the aquarium for.”

 It was…so fucking nice to hear Ben using “us” and “we” like that. He knew Ben was stuck with him, but it felt…. like he wasn’t alone. That Ben meant it. That he was going to have help this time, from the whole family. And if they used dear old dad’s money…well. That would be icing on the cake. Petty? Yes. Deserved, even beyond the grave? Hell yes. He’s glad that he didn’t have another visit from him. He doesn’t think he could stand anymore revelations or disappointment from him. He’d take a bizarre realm of multi-coloured girls and fish and talking dogs any day.

 Though, he really didn’t want to go back any time soon. Being mostly dead was exhausting.

 “Yeah, Ben, fish. Lots of colourful fish.” His voice sounded further away, like hearing himself through a long tunnel. Klaus could feel his eyes droop closed.

 Ben laughed softly. “Anything you need, Klaus. Have some nice dreams for me, will you?” Klaus’ eyes were closed, but for a flash, he thought he saw someone above him. He couldn’t see features, just a strange helmet and black robes. A pale hand sprinkled shining dust onto him. Onto his closed eyes. And then the figure was gone.

  And he swore, right before he drifted off to sleep, that he felt Ben’s hand on his shoulder. But then again, it could have just been his imagination.

[srtringbean]

First Love Part 8

HELLO EVERYONE I AM FINALLY BACK FROM MY VERY LONG HAITUS!!! I’ve bee going through some stuff so I needed some time for myself and now I am back somewhat better. Anywho, here is a teaser to the next part and I think it’ll be the last part or I will split it into two parts. 

Masterlist  Part1  Part2  Part3  Part4  Part5  Part6  Part7  Part8  Part9 (final) 

Genre: romance/fluff/angst/ I don’t know at this point

reader x Namjoon 

word count: 4k ( I got carried away ) 

~ 2 years later~

“Flight number KE601 for Incheon Airport at gate A2 is now ready for boarding.”

“Yeah yeah i’ll call you when I get there don’t worry dude okay. Yes Kim I know I know I’ll be fine stop freaking out so much my friend Yuri will pick me- WOMAN YES.” You yelled causing some fellow passengers looking your way as you mouthed a sorry.

“Kim I swear to you that I will message you the second I land okay and when my friend picks me up now stop acting like a mom I’m a grown ass adult for fucks sake.” You’d been living with your sister since you came back and while yes you were busy getting your visa fixed and doing regular adult things, your sister babied you like no tomorrow because she did miss you a lot. Was it tough? Hell yeah it was, but in the end it was worth the wait. Keeping in touch with everyone was a lot harder than you had hoped for and sometimes you lowkey avoided them because you still felt bad about leaving without a proper goodbye.

“Okay okay okay hey Kim… Kim…. KIM! I have to board now so I’ll text you or call you alright? Okay bye love you sis see you~~~ I don’t know whenever I can???” She was in the middle of starting a complaint when you just hung up to walk up to check in.

“Group A, seat number D1 for~ Y/n aaaand there you go you’re all set, have a safe flight!” Thanking the lady you walk through the tunnel feeling pretty nervous knowing this was legit. You were finally coming back and this time it was permanent. You were pretty sure you looked like some idiot smiling like a moron but you didn’t care because it was about time you could start fresh again. Nobody knew you were heading back actually, all except Sun and Yuri. A few months ago you confirmed with them on returning which was extremely exciting though you made them swear they wouldn’t say anything or you’d personally strangle them. Yuri always filled you up on the daily tea about the boys and so much has happened with them gaining a huge amount of popularity which was great, but that also meant more stress was built. Obviously you were now two years older and of course they always sent their best of wishes being a whole ass ocean away and you always said thank you, it hurt. It hurt knowing you couldn’t celebrate with them and they felt the same.

Two years was a lot for you to really reflect on everything. You were aware of what happened with the whole Namjoon and you situation being an unknown topic to discuss, since Yuri would ask almost anytime she had the chance to talk. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk about, it was just the fact that you weren’t ready to jump into something so soon with someone who was just figuring himself out. You felt selfish about it and the timing wasn’t right. In reality you were never really over your ex and what happened, the emotional damage, and the baggage that just came with it. When you were with Namjoon in a way you would forget but it always came back to bite you in the neck. He didn’t need nor did you want that for him so you took a step back. Was it the best way? No, but he didn’t deserve a boulder of problems that had nothing to do with him to try and fix you when in reality it was you who needed to learn to cope with what was going on. So when you left and thanked him for caring for you, you left it at that because it wasn’t his job to fix you. Had you spoken to him about it, maybe it wouldn’t have left a bad taste.

“Hey yuri i’m on the plane right now how’s everything going?”

“Oh thank god I was getting worried, everything is fine the boys don’t suspect a thing and your apartment is all cleaned up. I made a few changes since you left but nothing big. Also Sun will be picking you up when you arrive. How are you feeling? It’s been a while are you excited??” She asked all giddy and excited. If anyone was thrilled about seeing you, it was probably her. You lived with her when you first came and she became your second sister who somehow was exactly like your real sister, Kim.

“Is it weird to think that i’m so nervous I might throw up?? I’m really excited but extremely nervous to just show up out of the blue in front of the boys. What if they’re mad?? Oh my god what if they hate me because of everything? Yuri what do i doooooo.”

“Y/n you’re fine don’t start freaking out and bailing last minute because then i’d personally go strangle you. If anything yes, they’ll be shocked but I think they’ll be very excited to see you as well. Plus even if they are the slightest bit upset, it would be good for you to clear things up with them in person and start new. That or I can lecture them to not be angry.” Right when you were about to say something the flight attendant came up to you letting you know to put your phone on airplane mode.

“Hey I have to go now but I’ll call you when I get there and Sun too okay. I should be landing around 8 am okay, I’ll see you soon bye~” You hung up and buckle your belt finally relaxing into the seat. This was definitely going to be a looooong flight.

_____

“Hey Joon have you seen my- what are you doing?” Hoseok stood there confused as to what exactly was in front of him. A tall namjoon with on the floor with a chair dismantled.

“What- oh hey. I was trying to build myself a chair but I don’t think I did it right.” He said with a voice of disappointment. He finally had some time off and decided to build a chair for some weird reason but it got his mind off of whatever was bugging him.

“Well then, Jimin and I are going out to the han river if you want to join us?” Hoseok asked.

“Yeah this isn’t working out. Oh and your sweater is under couch in the living room because yeontan was running around with it then fell asleep on it under the couch.” It took about twenty minutes to get their considering they were just walking from their place but they were taking their time. It wasn’t everyday that they had to go out like this, but when they did it felt nice to let loose. These last couple of years were nothing but stressful on them with gaining a bigger fanbase, but getting so much recognition and trying to maintain that high standard everyone put them on. There were ups and down just like every other year though it was mostly ups that happened. While you were gone they managed to keep in touch whether they were busy or not which was hard on both ends. While it was night time for you, it was day time for them, if they were out touring, you were working on projects. Sometimes you wouldn’t speak for months and sometimes you would speak for a whole two weeks straight catching up. Everyone was always worried about you especially Namjoon, he probably worried the most. It was easy to say that when your name was brought up in any discussion, he would act like he was fine and while yes sometimes it was easy to not not feel upset, sometimes he caught himself slipping.

“Hey do you ever wonder if y/n is coming back?? I heard from yuri that she might but I don’t know when to be exact.” Jimin said while munching on who knows what.

“I mean I think it’s safe to say that she fixed the issue with her visa so maybe she will. I know PDnim was upset about having her leave. She actually kept up with her work and I must say, I’m proud how far her work has gotten her.” Hoseok always kept up with your content and thought it was awesome. From your first work to now, you’ve improved so much and he remembers how little sleep you always got so he hoped you were taking care of yourself. Namjoon on the other hand always found himself back at your apartment getting his work done. Since you left they had obviously gained a lot more wealth and moved into new apartments, though your place always had the best view in his eyes. It was the perfect mixture between the city and nature right outside your window and it was one of the main reasons you loved that place so much. In a way it was now his apartment too since he never really went back to the other dorms. You office was still there filled with all of your work, the concept art that went into your videos, color palettes, storyboarding, etc etc.

“I hope she does…” Namjoon whispered enough for the rest to hear him. Jimin knew how much he missed you and it wasn’t unnoticed by everyone. “What would you even sa to her though??? It’s been two years joon and even though we kept in touch, it’s very brief.” Hoseok claimed.

“I honestly don’t know. Should I be mad at her for just leaving or should I be happy that I get to finally see her again and never speak of it?”

There was a long pause in the air before anyone spoke any further, “I guess we have to wait until that day comes, but for now let’s just hope for the best. We’re leaving tomorrow afternoon and won’t be back until another week and a half.”

_____

“This is the captain speaking for flight KE601 from Lax to Incheon Airport, we will be landing in about fifteen more minutes, the weather for today is about 20 celcius with a light breeze, while we are landing please fasten your seatbelts and remain seated until further notice. I hope everyone has a great visit here in Korea and thank you for flying with Korean Air.” Holy heck you were a lot more excited the closer you got but then again, you were extremely nervous too. You haven’t seen anyone in a whole two years which didn’t seem that long but it definitely felt very, very long. Quickly packing our things you sat in your seat unable to stop fidgeting with your fingers and checking the time over and over again. Within fifteen minutes the plane had landed, everyone was grabbing their belongings and little by little everyone started to leave the plane. Walking out, you thanked the flight attendants to then make your way to grab the rest of your belongings.

“Hello?? SUN hey!!! I landed already i’ll be down there soon I just need to get to the terminal so I get to immigration before getting my luggage so it’ll take a while. I’m so nervous oh my god what do I do? I haven’t been here is what feels like forever.”

“Hey you’re fine just breathe and relax okay,” he said chuckling, “ i’m about fifteen to twenty minutes away so you should be just about finishing up by the time i get there.”

“Okay cool I’ll let you know when I’m getting out there okay.” Twenty minutes later and you were looking for the loads of luggage that you brought slowly regretting the amount you had. Right after grabbing the last one, you busted your butt to go through those doors feeling the giddiness rise. The excitement started to kick in and of course the second you passed the door, you spotted him and ran full tilt sprint.

“SUN!!!!!!!!!”

“Hey Y/- OOHP-” You jumped him giving him the biggest hug ever that he luckily didn’t fall on the floor. He was sure you had the biggest smile on your face as did he since it had been so so long.

“Heyy~ don’t kill me y/n,” he laughed, “It’s so good seeing you, we missed you so much.” You looked so different to him that he couldn’t help but stare at you. Man there was so much that needed to be caught up on he couldn’t wait for the car ride back.

“Sorry, I’m just really excited to see you and everyone else too. OH, I cut my hair as you can see and decided I needed a change so I dyed my hair too. How’s Yuri? Is she meeting up with us back at the apartment?? Also please tell me the boys don’t know anything. OH OH, I also hope you brought a big enough car too because i have luggage for days and i’m hoping it fits.”

Sun was having the time of his life while you rambled on trying to get you to calm down. “I love the new look, it suits you very much and I know everyone will probably drop their jaws. Yuri will meet us at your place, no the guys don’t know and they’re out of town luckily, and yes i brought a bigger car so no need to worry. Now calm down, let’s go and grab some food then head home.”

About an hour later you had everything and somehow ended up in your favorite spot to go eat some stew. Surprisingly the owner recognized you and bo was she super happy to see you see her again. She even brought you extra food stuffing our soul at this point, not that you were complaining though since she was the cutest and you could never say no to her. At some point she scolded you telling you that you should visit more often or she’ll find you to which she wasn’t kidding. Shortly after you were headed home feeling more than satisfied, “Is it weird to say that i’m nervous to be in my own home after two years?” You asked walking down the hall.

“Well I would be nervous too if i’m being honest. Yuri should be here soon too, she had some stuff to work out at work and you know the rest.”

“True, I’m just wondering how it’s going to be when the boys see me after that long. I just hope it’s not a bad reaction, I’ve literally had so many scenarios running through my head about how bad it could turn out and my thirteen plus hour flight didn’t help either. Maybe i’m just overthinking it too I don’t know am I??” You said in a smaller voice standing in front of your door.

Sun knew how much you really wanted things to end well but he didn’t know either, so it was really just a 50/50 shot of what would really happen. Sure they could be angry but you also do still hold a lot of meaning to them that the anger would go away. To him personally he didn’t find any reason to be upset with you so really, you were fine and shouldn’t have to worry so much. Then again, the guys did have some random mood swings because you weren’t there which did affect everyone. “You’re okay y/n I’m sure nothing bad will happen okay. Stop overthinking all the bad things because for all we know, they could be really easy going about it.”

—–

“Namjoon I can’t believe you forgot your stupid passport for the millionth time. We need like some type of beeper reminder thingy to make sure you have it at all times.” Jin said at a fast pace while driving towards your apartment since namjoon stayed there most of the time.

“I swear I had it jin, I guess i took it out again and placed it down. I’m surprised we even noticed after arriving, how in the hell did they let me go through without it???” Namjoon questioned while looking through his backpack for the millionth time just in case he really does have it.

“I swear if the others find it in your luggage and it’s not in the apartment I will strangle you because now we’re going to have to find the next flight last minute.” At this point Jin was talking so fast out of anger that Namjoon didn’t understand but understood. While they were on their way back to the apartment, they were completely unaware that you would be there and wouldn’t have suspected anything really. Parking into their spot Namjoon started to head towards the front doors and Jin started to look within the car just in case it fell under or in between the seats.

“I’ll double check the car and you go up first, I’ll be there if i don’t see it okay?” Nodding a yes namjoon went inside and up the elevator in hopes it’ll be there. If not, he was screwed for sure and would have to get another one for the millionth time.

You on the other hand while this was happening, started to look through your things for a bit and noticed some things were moved around but it was mostly the same. At some point you made a cup of coffee to try and stay awake while unpacking a few things. The coffee wasn’t going to keep you up for long but it was very much needed at this point. Sun ended up leaving you here since Yuri called him in for a meeting which would take a while but you understood and assured him you would be fine. As soon as he left, you took a mini detour of your place (well namjoons place at this point) and noticed how most of your things were still the same but a lot more organized than what you would normally have. It felt so homey and relaxing but it also had a very namjoon aesthetic to it as well. Both bedrooms were pretty much the same with a few upgrades but your room was the same as ever. Even your bed was still the same which you were grateful for because the second you sat down, in about five minutes you were fast asleep and gone. After that long flight sleep was what you really needed and once you were asleep, there was no waking you up until whenever your body decided you’ve fully recovered.

“I can’t believe I forgot my passport…” He mumbled to himself as if anyone was able to hear him. “Let’s just find it so we can head out and go on this trip.” Opening the door he’s already taking his shoes off and about to start looking when he sees a different pair of shoes that were obviously not his. Did someone break in? He’s already walking inside when he sees tons of luggage in the living room confused as ever. Was someone moving in and he didn’t know????

“What in the world??” He whispered walking through the apartment trying to be extra quiet just in case. You were in a deep sleep obviously so of course you didn’t hear anything nor did you hear the door opening and a very surprised namjoon. Surprised wasn’t really enough to explain how he felt because it was like the gears in his mind were turning so slow walking inside your room and nothing made sense to him for a good minute. That was until you were there, physically there in front of him. You, not just an imagination of his mind, you were legit sleeping in bed without a single form of knowledge that namjoon is very much surprised that you are really there. Holy crap what does he do? Does he wake you up? No no no no you literally just got here, you’re probably really tired. Wait, no wait, oh my god you’re really here. This is real. Oh god he feels a train of emotions just slapping him in the face he doesn’t even hear Jin coming through the door calling out to him.

“Hey why is there loads of luggage in the living r-” He stops mid sentence to see a very emotionally conflicted namjoon staring back at him and your bed back and forth not knowing what to do. Jin walks into the room to look back at Namjoon with the same expression.

“Y/n…” he exhaled.

“..room.” Jin finished not really knowing what else to say other than have just the same amount of inner conflict as Namjoon. They were so lucky you were dead asleep (some things just don’t change) because if you weren’t, who knows what would’ve happened if you both stare at each other with the biggest question mark roaming around.

“Joon whatever you’re thinking or are thinking of doing, save it until we get back. Look for your passport quietly so we can make it on time.” Jin whispered already walking away into the other room to find what was needed. He started to search as quietly as possible because everyone knows once you start waking up, there is no going back to sleep and the last thing he needed was you awake and him freaking out. After about a good twenty minutes he found his passport in the bookshelf next to the picture he gave you during your first few months there bringing back many memories that he felt the lump in his throat start to form.

“Hey did you find it?” Jin walked in with concern in his voice.

Taking in a deep breathe he put the frame down and heard you moving around meaning you’s wake up any minute now. “Let’s go before she wakes up, please don’t tell anyone.” With that, Jin was already out the door and just as he was about to put his shoes on the sound of your voice filled his ears.

“Namjoon??? It’s you right?” You said probably the smallest voice he’s ever heard from you.

Nobody moved, the elephant in the air was prominent than ever and you, you were standing there with guilt written all over your face. Your now short and dyed hair made you look more mature and you looked completely different yet still recognizable. What was he supposed to say?? He literally had to be at the airport but he also wanted to stay and catch up on everything.

“I thought- I thought you’d be out of town by now??” You asked.

“I- uhh, I forgot my passport.” Rushing his words out faster than what he expected.

Chuckling to yourself, it was like music kissed his ears hearing you laugh after so long. God how much he missed you but how crappy it was that he had to leave and wait a week and a half. “We can talk when you come back okay? I don’t think you should keep everyone waiting.” Smiling softly, you walked up to him while he held his breath for who knows how long. You only stood in front of him but it was so close you could practically hear his heart hammer against his chest from the millions of emotions running marathons.

“I’ll be here when you come back okay? We can talk all you want and let it all out and you can cry, scream, or anything. I’ll wait just a little longer.” Taking a pause to really look at him, you mustered up the courage to grab his hand and hold it against you face really taking the time to let him know you were in fact real. While he let out the shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding, he wished he could cancel the trip last minute at this point. “I’m so sorry,…..” You whispered. Finally letting go and looking at each other he mustered up the courage to say something he’s been waiting for so long to tell you when you came back.

“I missed you so much…”