#love how open i am on tumblr because i would never openly admit to being a fujo on my tiktok

[emohimiko]

lies about doing 3 week old missing homework so i write more yaoi

[insipid-drivel]

To All Those That Have Reached Out

It's been a very bad few weeks, and I haven't exactly tried to be subtle about it on tumblr lately. I've gotten tired of bottling up the persecutions and backhanded slaps from my brother and sister from the entire world, and tumblr is one of the few platforms I'll vent about them on.

Sincerely, thank you to those people - mutuals, followers, and outright strangers alike - who reached out to me over these past awful few weeks. I haven't had the ability to get back to everyone yet because my health is taking a nosedive again and I haven't been able to expend the kind of emotional energy to communicate and get back to everyone quickly without risking another backslide. I need surgery soon, and I'm trying my hardest to lower my stress levels and focus on my health. I'm autistic, so overshooting my social energy can really be bad for my general health.

From offers to doordash groceries to my house, to offers just to listen, I've wept over the amount of concern and compassion that I've received over the past days. I am not exaggerating, to those who have sent me a message, that your shared sympathies, concerns, advice, and care have been above and beyond anything I've received from my siblings in over 10 years. Backdraft is a helluva symptom when you've been taught from childhood to believe your very birth was the cause of your older sibling to hate and abuse you. My sister resents me for being born and taking my mom's attention away from her (she has openly admitted this to our mother), while my brother resents me for my mental and physical disabilities and has taken to taking his angst and childish pettiness out on our mother as a way of punishing me. I've been ashamed of the little brother I spent so much of my life devoted to bringing up well that I barely recognize him anymore.

I was recently taught the phrase, "Never hold water for your oppressors, because they will never let you have a drink," and I've been taking it to heart. I hate to think of my brother and sister as oppressors or anything but people I want more than anything to see how much I've sacrificed, changed, endured, and given up out of love for them, but staying on the island they've marooned me on will only result in a sad end when I have the opportunity to set my own sails for other waters. Even my mother has washed her hands of my siblings, feeling just as used and taken advantage of by them as I've felt unfairly persecuted and judged. My siblings are extremely myopic, self-centered, and selfish people that never deserved the time and effort I put in to showing them how much I loved and cared for them.

I'm thankful to have grown up as part of one of the generations that celebrates found family, because it's made it impossible for me to feel completely hopeless about the future.

Opening up to one of my best and only friends of over 10 years has resulted in what may turn out to be a happy change. My mom and I would benefit from another person in the house, and after several tense and nerve-wracking talks with him, my best friend will be visiting for a couple of weeks soon. Given that he's queer and his is one of the states that flipped red this past horrifying election while I live in Washington, it just seems to make sense that we at least meet up in a safe state and see how we go together and if he likes it here.

My mom is thrilled to the point of practically flying to him herself and carrying him piggy-back here overnight. She's an incredibly stoic person in the face of abuse, but I know my brother's disrespect and outright rudeness to her recently has been hurting her.

I can't wait for when my friend visits and if he finds he wants to settle here, either as a housemate or in his own place (although real estate prices are skyrocketing in WA right now due to a rush of former red-staters fleeing here in the wake of November 6th's election results). We met here on tumblr not long after I first joined the site to promote and work on a webcomic series I was involved in at the time, and our friendship turned out to outlive the comics. I'm very excited for the opportunity to see him and spend face-to-face time with someone I've loved like another brother for years.

Things are still bumpy, and if you haven't heard from me after messaging me, please know that I've probably seen your messages and taken them to heart. My dark spells still come and go, and there are times where I still get trapped in feeling hopeless and lonely, but I'm working on it.

[liannelara-dracula]

Diabolik lovers S+M+T brothers at beach

Hi Love,

Gosh, I am so sorry! I hope you are still around. This took months! To everyone I am sorry for my absences, in December I hope to be less busy. I luckily found some time for writing so I decided to finish some stuff while I'm at it. :) Hope you guys like it!

-Liannelara

Diaboys At the Beach HCS

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Prompt

Requests are open

Rules

Warning:

*certain words have been censored for Tumblr guidelines.

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General (includes everyone):

🏝They took a van altogether to get there.

🏝Or it may have been Kou’s tour van bc he’s an idol.

🏝And Yuma didn’t want to go.

🏝But he was the one who ended up driving because he thinks that Ruki and Reiji are too slow because they follow the speed limit.

🏝Carla and Shin cannot drive because they are too old so good luck explaining to them how a car works.

🏝Plus Shin drives so bad, omg.

🏝And so yeah, Yuma would get everyone there faster.

Sakamaki

Shu:

🏝Made a fake treasure map and sneaked it somewhere on the beach and Ayato found it.

🏝This way the triplets would be preoccupied and leave the damn place so he could get some freaking peace and quiet.

🏝He openly admitted to Reiji, Subaru, Ruki, and Carla who were resting on lawn chairs also.

🏝“It’s been a while since we have seen those three.” Ruki commented.

🏝“Tch, yeah they must be so busy checking out chicks.” Subaru said.

🏝Shu continued to look asleep with his sunglasses and said, “Oh, they’re not checking out chicks.”

🏝“Then why the hell are they so busy?!” Subaru looked confused.

🏝“Well, I didn’t want to say anything but I figured a fake map would do the trick.” 

🏝“You did what?!” They were all shocked.

🏝“They’re looking all around for treasure that doesn’t even exist. But I figured it was the only way to get them to shut up.” Shu grinned, knowing he had screwed them over.

🏝“It is unbelieve that you even bothered to do something productive, let alone beneficial to us all.” Reiji commented while adjusting his glasses.

🏝Getting him to come was hard, it was only because Reiji said that there would be steak so he agreed to come.

🏝Wears his damn cardigan in this hot @ss heat.

🏝Rei does not understand this at all and can’t stand it.

🏝And he’s shirtless and probably has some beach necklace on.

🏝He makes sure to leave his cardigan open tho, that way chicks can check him out.

🏝But he does wear his swim trunks (they’re yellow) and sunglasses.

🏝And he’d sip out of a f*ckin’ coconut and you know it.

🏝Spends most of his time on the damn lawn chair or on a beach towel under the umbrella shade.

🏝This just gives him the excuse to be lazy.

🏝While he lays on the beach towel if girls walk by in their bikinis, he looks up.

🏝He is still listening to his music tho, that will never change.

🏝Probably got a tan, which might be funny if he had his choker on through it all so it’ll leave that shape on his neck now.

🏝He’s a little annoyed by it and the triplets find it funny.

🏝He might complain about the sun being too bright tho, lol.

🏝Once the day is over, he literally does not carry anything back to the van.

Reiji:

🏝Reiji has everything ready before they leave.

🏝And he’s just trying to make sure everything goes smoothly.

🏝He’s hoping he can relax a little because the beach will keep his brothers busy.

🏝He goes for a swim because it's good exercise.

🏝He and his brothers drag Shu to go but Shu will only go if a hot chick catches his attention and she’s by the water.

🏝Reiji and Ruki are responsible for the food because we know that the boys can’t cook for sh!t.

🏝So they are in charge of the barbeque, and they fight over how to do things, such as how to season things, what temperature the meat shout be cooked at, when they should flip it, and when it’s done, etc.

🏝Azusa tries to help them negotiate but they just end up yelling at him and he becomes disappointed because they haven’t hit him. Yet.

🏝Apart from this he does try to relax by sitting on a chair and reading some things.

🏝 Reiji is probably wearing some swim trunks and button-up shirt that is somewhat undone, so girls can catch a glimpse of his chiseled chest.

🏝I mean have you seen this man?????!!!!

🏝He only takes off his shirt when he’s going to swim tho.

🏝 And he wears his sunglasses here, probably the kind that also works as glasses so he doesn’t have to have two with him.

🏝The triplets are always trying to sabotage things for him like they unscrewed the screws in the folding chairs just so he’d fall out of it.

🏝Oh and if he ends up falling asleep in the chair, they steal his sandals and hide them while he’s sleeping.

🏝They’ve also stolen his towel and gotten it wet in the ocean and then returned it to him.

🏝He was so annoyed and scolded them about their behavior while Shu was amused.

🏝He will not build a sandcastle but if he sees that Ruki is, it will lead to competition between the two about who can build a better castle.

🏝Reiji is also constantly telling his brothers to not cause trouble.

🏝If he’s near the shore but is only getting his feet wet, the triplets will just push him in.

🏝He doesn’t allow the triplets to use the yacht they have.

🏝“No, there will be no parties on father’s yacht.”

🏝And if they are making a fuss about getting ice cream, he gives them money because he won’t hear the end of it if he doesn’t.

🏝Sometimes Laito tries to coax him into looking at chicks with him but Rei tells him he’ll pass.

🏝He’ll be sitting in his lawn chair with his shades, reading a book or science article of some sort. So Laito will approach him and say, “The women you take interest in are no fun, now lighten up brother.”

🏝Reiji would sigh and take his shades off, “That’s because you have little regard for what a woman is. The females you take an interest in are far beyond from being ladies. They are young and incompetent girls.”

🏝“Ohhh, then perhaps you're into older women~”

🏝“Do not say such nonsense.” He’d say adjusting his glasses.

🏝Reiji may even participate in a sport with his brothers. In fact, he’s probably the one telling them to get good exercise and having them play volley ball.

Laito:

🏝Is really looking forward to going and can’t wait to see girls in their swimsuits.

🏝He and Ayato are trying to undo the strings on girl’s bikins.

🏝And their main goal is to pick up chicks.

🏝He wore a speedo, and I’m betting it's zebra or leopard print. 

🏝Or even worse, green.

🏝Ayato said his outfit was silly and Subaru thought it was ridiculous but he simply told them they knew nothing about fashion.

🏝“Laito you look like sh!t.”

🏝Sits on a hammock and Subaru sabotages it.

🏝He brings rollerskates but he falls a lot.

🏝He does go in the water and he goes a little far in.

🏝However if he doesn’t realize what is on him, like seaweed for instance, he might freak out.

🏝I also see that he left his hat on his beach towel cause he didn’t want to get it wet.

🏝But knowing Ayato and Kino they’d use his damn hat as a freezbe and do it across the water in hopes of getting wet.

🏝Meanwhile, Laito is trying to stop.

🏝And it’s basically a monkey-in-the-middle situation because he can’t catch it.

🏝If he’s in a pool or in general if he plans to look underwater he brings goggles with him.

🏝He kinda looks like this dude → click here

🏝Oh and I bet he goes snorkeling and thinks the fish are cool.

🏝He’ll try to take pics of them and then put them in a scrapbook or something.

🏝He will laugh if the fish try to tickle him, and literally if he saw two fish mating he’d take a photo of it cause he thinks it's interesting.

🏝And then he’d show it to Subaru. “Don’t they look interesting? They are so innocent when they procreate, it isn’t like our kind.”

🏝“Shut up, idiot!”

🏝He plays volleyball with his brothers and Subaru makes sure they're on opposing teams just so he can win against him and possibly hit him with the ball.

🏝Although even if they were on the same team he’d still aim the ball at him when he’s getting on his nerves.

🏝Will complain about the water being pretty cold too.

🏝Ayato will make jokes about him being a mermaid and Laito becomes offended/upset.

🏝“That is just cruel brother, very cruel.”

Kanato:

🏝Wore a lilac button-up shirt and some white and purple swim trunks.

🏝He has the top somewhat button-down.

🏝Teddy and him have matching outfits.

🏝And he’s got nice black shades, with a tint of purple.

🏝Picks up chicks with his nice outfit.

🏝Spends time building a sandcastle but he honestly doesn’t have the patience.

🏝Especially if Ayato ended up kicking it because he was playing sports or something.

🏝He was so annoyed and made sure not to mess with Teddy’s sand castle ever again.

🏝Literally I could see him throwing seashells/sand at him and anyone who walks by.

🏝Laito might participate in helping him build it because he finds it fun but Ayato will just say its for kids.

🏝And Kanato doesn’t like it when someone calls him a kid

🏝But if they make a game out of it he wants to compete because Oreo-Sama is the best.

🏝He brought a little backpack where he keeps the sweets Reiji packed for him to avoid any possible tantrums he may give if he didn’t.

🏝And god forbid if a seagull swooped down and took any candy.

🏝He’d be enraged.

🏝And you can best bet that this little purple goblin would curse at it.

🏝He may even cry over this bc he’s such a child.

🏝If Ayato laughs at him he’ll just chase after him.

🏝I think he likes putting his feet in the water but if a seaweed came near him he’d be annoyed.

Ayato:

🏝Get’s sunburned easily (idk if vampires can actually get sunburned but whatever.)

🏝Brings a f*cking metal detector to check if he can find valuables in the sand.

🏝Subaru sees this and just thinks he’s an idiot.

🏝You know how his pants are rolled up on one side?

🏝His swim shorts are the same deal.

🏝Wears ugly neon green alien sunglasses and matches with Kino.

🏝He plays monkey in the middle with Laito and Kanato and Kanato is in the middle.

🏝Kanato gets fed up in two seconds and probably pops the beach ball.

🏝Tries to pick up chicks with Laito and Kino.

🏝But he just embarrasses himself.

🏝He and Kino bring their skateboards and try to do tricks.

🏝Knowing Ayato he has tripped over seaweed and even sand.

🏝He tries to go surfing and he fails miserably.

🏝He goes in the water and I’m not surprised if Kino and Shin schemed something together and made Ayato think there was a shark in the water.

🏝He was well convinced and completely left his surfboard due to fear.

🏝He really wants to use the boat his family owns so he can fish.

🏝He did this once over the bridge and fell over the railing and it was hilarious.

🏝Overall, he’s mostly just making a fool of himself throughout it all.

🏝I mean from how many girls he’s asked out or flirted with and he’s like tripped in front of them it just makes me laugh.

🏝Oh and he’s going all over with the “fake” treasure map he found with Kanato and Laito.

🏝And it’s just hilarious how they went around the whole town.

🏝If he’s in charge of grilling Shu’s special stake he’ll burn it and start a fire.

🏝And he will put out the fire by pouring a bottle of water over the stake because he’s lost all hope.

🏝And Shu hates him after that.

Subaru:

🏝He carries most of the supplies and stuff since Reiji asks him. 

🏝He will complain slightly but after being able to trip Kou along the way he’s all for it.

🏝Will go out for a swim cause it will relax him.

🏝He wears a black tank top and swim trunks.

🏝Girls stare at his arms and he’s embarrassed.

🏝Laito literally even introduces him to girls he met and Subaru just gets flustered.

🏝He will look at girls in their bathing suits but try to cover up the fact that he’s looking.

🏝And if Laito catches, omg he will not hear the end of it.

🏝He will try to him his little bro get her attention.

🏝"Oh, I see you need some help in getting a girl's attention?" Laito would say.

🏝"Shut up!"

🏝"Well, a little push never hurt anyone." He’d say to his little brother before actually pushing him forward to bump into the chick.

🏝"Ok, you know what to do brother, take it from here."

🏝Meanwhile Subaru just wants to kick his @ss for pushing him forward and bumping into the chick.

Kino:

🏝Having drinks with chicks.

🏝Causally joins other people’s parties and bonfires.

🏝He comes with only his weird printed swim trunks and skateboard. 

🏝He thinks the pattern looks cool but Ayato and Shin dis him about the f*cking print.

🏝Brings a boombox.

🏝Does any sport possible, so he’s definitely doing surfing and power cursing. 

🏝Brings a polaroid camera, and f-ing films the whole time on his phone. 

🏝Tries to make vines with Ayato and Shin.

🏝Will flip sh!t if Ayato eats a hot dog in front of him.

🏝He literally gasped before chucking the thing straight into the ocean.

🏝Right in front of Ayato’s eyes, leaving him speechless only to respond with, “Bruh.”

🏝He and Ayato play video games and literally argue.

🏝In fact, when they play volleyball they argue about who lost or who was out of bounds.

🏝He honestly doesn’t do much, he's just really obnoxious.

Mukami

Ruki:

🏝He wears those white polo shirts that are short sleeves so you can see his muscular arms.

🏝And it’s just one of those tight shirts they put on models, he looks good with it.

🏝F*ck

🏝Anyways, this boring @ss brought a book with him, of course.

🏝He will occasionally look up if he’s interested in some girl specifically.

🏝He’d be focused on his reading when the voice of girl caught his attention, causing him to lower his gaze on the female.

🏝He does get a little involved with playing sports if his brothers ask him or if he’s being challenged.

🏝Ruki is mostly busy reading, relaxing, or competing against Reiji in something.

🏝If he has a partner, he’d become more involved in the sense of messing around with her and pushing her into the water.

🏝but those are hcs for another time. ;)

🏝If he really wants to do something different he might build a sand castle.

🏝Other than that he doesn’t do too much but he does sometimes get in nerd debates with Reiji.

Yuma:

🏝He carried almost everything in like a few trips.

🏝He builds sandcastles with Azusa.

🏝Plays volleyball and makes sure Azusa is on his team and that Kou is on the opposite side.

🏝 He literally make sure the ball hits him down each time 😂 

🏝Feeds the seagulls because he feels bad.

🏝But will get mad if they follow him.

🏝“Hey, look I was trying to help out. Now that’s enough.”

🏝Although if his brothers are not watching he will be more friendly towards them. 

🏝“Huh, you guys really like bread, don’t ya?” He ask, petting one of the seabirds.

🏝 He’s not trying to but he gets a tan.

🏝 He’d be shirtless the whole time, he tried to even arrive shirtless but Ruki told him it wasn’t proper.

🏝 So he put a beach sweater on but then instantly took it off.

🏝 I say this because he probably thinks it’s hot a lot of the time.

🏝 I really can’t imagine the attire but probably orange swim trunks? Idk, just look at dive to blood when I don’t give a description 😂.

🏝 Will swim far out in the ocean.

🏝Is basically anywhere where Kou isn’t.

🏝Has a hard time relaxing bc he can almost never sit still.

🏝 Although once his brothers convince him enough to relax and he is finally able to and he’ll check out chicks even if his facial expression doesn’t display any hint of that.

🏝Though I say most of his time is spent watching Azusa and ambushing Kou.

Kou:

🏝He wore a light pink bucket hat and Yuma didn’t want to be around him cause he thought he looked dumb with it.

🏝”The only thing you are hurting right now are my feelings.” I see it like in this clip here. (idk if the clip is still in there, I hope)

🏝He also wore pink swim trunks and Yuma just can’t talk to him.

🏝And I see that he’s got wacky sunglasses like it’s just ridiculous.

🏝Subaru flips him off his flamingo floaty. (If they were at a pool anyways)

🏝 he’s honestly everywhere and his brothers just hope the disguise is enough knowing he’s an idol or he just might ruin everyone’s vacation.

🏝Which as you can imagine, that is exactly what happened.

🏝And believe me they were not happy about it at all.

🏝“Oh come on guys you know I didn’t mean to do this.”

🏝“That ain’t the point man, you always do this. This is why no one wants to bring you on trips.” Yuma would say annoyed by Kou’s excuse.

Azusa:

🏝He builds really nice sandcastles with water and stuff.

🏝He’s really good it, and people take photos of his work.

🏝Azusa will try to get stung by a dead jellyfish and Yuma has to constantly watch him to make sure he isn’t to far out into the sea to get eaten or something.

🏝“Azusa, get the hell out of there!”

🏝Azusa is pretty calm most of the time, he might sun tan because he hears it's relaxing.

🏝Although he’s mostly trying to find ways where he will feel pain.

🏝So everyone kinda worries about where he wanders off to sometimes or if he’s been gone for too long because he’s probably doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

🏝He’d literally stay in the water when there's a shark.

🏝He might even give it a name and try to pet it.

🏝Meanwhile Kou is screaming at him to get out of the water.

🏝Azusa would also probably try to throw himself on the boulders that he sees just to feel something and Yuma would constantly have to pull him away. 

Tsukinami

Carla:

 🏝He’s just trying to relax, but Shin won’t allow him.

🏝Because he’s either pulling pranks on him or he made some girl’s bf upset and now Carla has to fix things.

🏝Girls look at him but he’s not focused on this.

🏝He might be trying to paint the ocean tho.

🏝And he’ll probably paint a girl he found attractive too.

🏝He’s mostly exploring around the nearby gift shops and possibly buying souvenirs.

🏝Because he’s trying to “relax”.

🏝He’ll probably try to read or something and Shin is telling him to either get in the water or get a tan.

🏝Or get a girl.

🏝Shin wants to turn into his wolf form but Carla gets mad at him and tells him no.

🏝“What’s it going to look like if there is a wolf running around on a beach?” He’d ask his younger brother.

🏝Shin looked at him before shaking his head. “No one will notice.”

🏝”No, no wolf form.”

🏝“Fine, then I’ll turn into a snake.”

🏝 “No.” Carla anwsered.

🏝“A bat.”

🏝“No.”

🏝“An eagle.”

🏝”No. No, no, no! You will not turn into anything. Just stay in your regular form!”

🏝Overall, Carla’s really got his work cut out for him lol.

Shin:

🏝Came shirtless, and was about to come in his wolf form but Carla stopped him.

🏝 He’s doing some type of sport and tries to drag Carla into it.

🏝 Like Shin would try anything and Carla doesn’t like the idea because it’s usually reckless.

🏝 I could see Shin wanting to try power cruising and Carla is worried that Shin will just crash somewhere, leading him to be the one to cover the damages because he’s the oldest.

🏝 He’d also go cycling most likely, but he’d never wear one of those outfits.

🏝Idk if you guys are familiar with cycling at the beach but I live in a beach town and that’s what everyone does. Especially tourists, so yeah I could see that Shin rented a bike. 

🏝That’s usually how it works, at least at the beach town I’m at. 😂 

🏝And honestly the whole time Carla is just hoping nothing crazy happens.

🏝Aside from this if Shin is not cycling he’s probably doing stupid with Kino or checking out girls.

🏝That’s what the whole trip consists of.

🏝But if he turned in his wolf form it’d be another story.

🏝 It’d be so chaotic and Carla would be freaking out bc everyone is wondering why there is a wolf at the beach. 😂 

🏝It’d get so bad that Carla would have to fake it and say that Shin is his husky 😂. This way no one will question.

🏝And then in the van he can give a long lecture about it and why he will never do this trip ever again.

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˗ˏˋ 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 ˎˊ˗ ©𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟔~Present

[ktheist]

girls like you [don’t] run ‘round with guys like me | m

characters. popular!reader x shy!jimin

genre. college au. rich kids au. fwb au. eventual ceo au. eventual racer au.

words. 4k

warnings. 18+

note. this is a repost. tumblr messed up my exposure last time. this fic didn’t show up in search and it’s probably a third post of mine that ends up like this. this one probably won’t either but posting bc someone might see it and like it.

x

It’s easy to tell when Park Jimin is in love.

Unlike Kim Seokjin, his eccentric, dad joke-loving friend, Jimin would only wear the pastel pink when he’s feeling giggly and shy and mushy inside.

The source of said feelings being either the barista he goes to get his daily dose of coffee from, or the girl at the library he studies at during finals or well, right now it’s the girl he’s fucking almost every day of the week - you.

“What are you doing?” Seokjin looks at him like he just dumped a spoonful of salt in a broth that needs a little, teensy bit of sugar.

Or his face seems to say that as he goes on, “she’s a mean girl. She’s mean.”

Jimin isn’t sure if Seokjin’s aware that he’s just repeated the same thing twice.

“She calls you Chim!” The older man reiterates.

“Yeah, it’s…” Jimin trails off, the heartwarming image of you cuddling into him after yet another mindblowing sex, flashing at the back of his mind, “...her pet name for me.”

“Sounds to me like she can’t remember your actual name,” Min Yoongi interjects from the couch he’s claimed for himself ever since they got to their usual hangout.

It’s a penthouse Jimin’s parents bought him on his 18th birthday. Him and the boys would hang around there after they’re done with classes or just need a place to crash whenever they have problems with their girlfriends or boyfriends or parents or any sort of problem that renders their usual room not sleepable.

“I think we can just agree we have different wants,” Jeongguk - or the sanest of them all, as Jimin likes to call him - chirps in, taking a bite of the apple he got from the fridge.

“Exactly,” Jimin throws his hands up as if freed from his elder friends’ judge-filled eyes. The vibration of his phone in his lap gives him even more comfort to know that he finally has an excuse to slip away - he checks his phone, your name flashing in the bubble that says ‘hey, wyd?’

“I have to go, it’s ___.”

A series of groans and hollers equally erupts from the men in the room at the realization of what Jimin’s ‘having to go’ means.

And so it goes. Jimin finds himself under your blanket that smells like fresh laundry - it’s a nude green color compared to the pleated black and white from last time. Your head is on his chest and he’s caressing your hair like it’s the softest thing he’s ever laid his hands on.

Besides your boobs, that is.

“I was thinking… since we have Monday off… maybe we could-”

It’s the way you push yourself off him, eyes that are onto him gazing straight into his soul, “oh shoot, Monday’s a public holiday. I totally forgot! I have to meet my parents. My dad’s been nagging me to come back since I skipped Christmas and New Year.”

And there goes his chance to ask you out on a date.

“Oh yeah, what were you saying about Monday?”

Jimin wears the biggest fake smile he can muster, “just that… me and the boys are gonna hang out and we’re bringing our girlfriends and boyfriends and uh- doesn’t have to be someone you’re exclusively seeing,” he almost chokes at the almost-admittance that he has the fattest crush on you and wants to make it official by inviting you to a couple’s-only hang out, “but like, I don’t think I’m going, it’s boring anyway.”

He waves his hand dismissively, trying to play it cool.

You make a cooing sound, eyebrows knitting together as your lips pout cutely before a playful smile blooms on your face, “I know what you’re trying to say.”

“You do?” Jimin thinks he heard his heart dropping to his stomach.

“Yeah, you’re single and all the boys have someone special they’re gonna bring… it’s gonna be awkward as hell because they’re gonna act different because they’re around their special someone so you thought if I was there, it’d be more fun because at least you have a friend with you that’s not gonna act fake the whole time there but I can’t go so you decided you’re not going too like a minute ago.”

Silence lulls in after your analogy that you sound so sure of when, in fact, he has a whole list of things he’d do on the date which he may or may not have gone over a hundred times in his head.

Doesn’t matter now, since that date is a no-go.

He’s going to delete that list off his phone once he gets to his place and drink himself silly until he wipes it out of his mind.

“Yeah,” Jimin says a moment later, “yeah… I mean, girls in love are cute but boys in love are just… annoying.”

The week flies by without Jimin ever mentioning Monday and you’ve showed him the clothes you’re going to wear to visit your parents because apparently-

“It’s lunch at some five star Michelin restaurant and I think they’re gonna tell me they’re getting a divorce,” your voice drifts into the room from the open, walk-in closet.

“If they’re not in some long, dreadful battle on who gets the holiday house with the pool and the dogs - how do I look?” You step out, in a frilly creme sweater with a black ribbon tied around the collar of your white undershirt with a black pleated skirt that stops mid-thighs, just inches from your black stockings.

A glaring contrast to your collection of washed out skinny jeans, plain t-shirts and sneakers.

“You… look…” Jimin knows he should stop openly ogling at your never-before-seen drip but there’s just something about the creme colored sweater.

“Like a good girl?” You offer with a smile Jimin couldn’t quite put a name to. Somehow he notices a trace of sadness in your eyes, but you disappear into the closet too soon.

“I’ll think about what to wear the morning I need to wear it,” you’re in the middle of pulling off the sweater when Jimin comes up behind you, kissing your neck and grabbing your boobs like they’re his.

The sound of your giggle is music to his ears.

That is, until his boner brushes against your butt and you gasp, “Chim! We just did it.”

“I know but you look so cute in that sweater.” He sounds exactly like Jeongguk. Like a fuckboy.

Like one of the boys you got tired of before you finally noticed him, the quiet, shy guy who’s friends with the outgoing, baby-faced Jeon Jeongguk whom - Jimin hates to admit it but he thinks about this every once so often and gets jealous all on his own - you’ve humped and dumped.

How you and Jeongguk still manage to stay friends and tease each other about the other’s choice of partners, Jimin doesn’t know.

It’s like a twin calling the other ugly.

He wonders if you and him will still stay friends after…

Jimin pushes the thought out of his mind. It’s not hard to forget everything when he’s with you - when he’s kissing you on the mouth like you’re the only girl he’ll want to spend the rest of his college life with and maybe his old days with together too.

“Chim, I can’t get my shirt creased,” you say but you’re already dripping wet and laying down in said shirt that’s half ridden up from him sucking and biting on your nipples.

He stopped you when you tried to take off your clothes.

“I’ll wash it and iron it for you,” he negotiates just as he rolls the condom over his length.

The sound of your giggle makes his heart skip a beat. Or maybe that’s the libido?

Either way, your mouth clamps shut when he pulls you down against him by the dip of your waist.

A different kind of hymn leaves your lips as Jimin throws his head back, relishing in the feeling of you around him.

When Monday rolls around, Jimin’s lying on the bean bag with his two legs sprawled over the floor. The boys are all out with either their significant others, working part-time or at a party.

The worn out baseball Jimin’s been tossing in the air and catching with one hand finally hits him square in the face when he hears the doorbell, signaling the presence of someone at the door and that someone being none of the boys because they would just punch in the code and strut in like they own the place.

Jimin thought maybe it’s Yoongi - the guy couldn’t even remember what he had for dinner and actually forgot the passcode to his own rental room once.

So he didn’t think to check who it was.

When your bright smile and slightly puffy eyes flash in front of him, Jimin thinks his soul just yeeted itself out of his body.

“Hey!” You sing song, holding up two plastic bags of beers and snacks.

It takes a moment for him to snap out of his stupor and grab them from your hands and then stepping aside to let you in.

“Is… everyone late or am I just early?” You sound increasingly confused as you step further into the center of the room, standing right next to the bean bag he was laying in just a moment ago.

“Oh-” he says once before he opens his mouth the second time, ready to spurt out another lie, “oh yeah… we decided not to ‘cause why hang out in a group when you can hang out with your significant other… you know, just the two of you… doing what couples do…”

“Huh,” you say, nodding though not quite believing him but you being you, easily lets it slide, plopping on the bean bag and grabbing the closest thing to you which is the ball that hit Jimin in the face - he’s sure he has a circular mark smack dab in the area on the top of his nose bridge, in between his eyes.

The dress you end up wearing is creme colored and riding up your thighs - Jimin swallows thickly and give extra attention to the bottle opener.

“So… how did lunch go?” He pops two beers open and hands one to you, taking a seat on Yoongi’s favorite couch and admiring how your dress is taking the shape of your body as gravity pulls it down.

“Oh, you know, everyone was being fake and acting like the perfect role in the family,” you put the beer down a few inches above your head so as to not tip it over with the ball you’re waving around but not throwing in the air like Jimin did.

“Sounds suffocating,” Jimin repeats a similar answer he gives whenever you use that dismissive tone while talking about your family.

“...are you okay?” Then he asks - and he’s genuinely asking - about your state of mind while casually downing the beer and feeling the bitterness lessen with every gulp.

The silence that lapses in between you is familiar.

“If I say no, can I get a hug?” It’s the look in your eyes, glimmering like the lake he used to go to in summer.

“Always,” he sets his beer down on the table next to the couch and goes over to you, standing on his knees before bending down and engulfing you in his arm.

You’ve always had a knack for picking yourself up.

When he sees you the next time, which is on instagram and a post of you having lunch with your friends, Jimin could hardly believe that’s the girl who asked him for a hug as if she’s afraid she’ll be putting him in an uncomfortable spot by asking for too much.

But there’s something…

Like an invisible wall made of ice that he can’t thaw through nor can he climb over to get to the other side where you are. Where you keep the people you love the closest. Closer than he’ll ever be.

Jeon Jeongguk is one of them.

In the picture of five people huddled close to fit in the frame, Jeongguk has his arm over you with a peace sign while you lean your head on his neck but not actually resting on it - like it’s an unconscious action you’d do because you’ve done that plenty of times.

Is it when you two were together?

Everyone he knows, knows that you and Jeongguk used to be more than just friends at some point.

Sometimes he still hears people talking about you two in passing.

‘Did ___ and Jeongguk get back together? I saw in Jeongguk’s snapstory - they were in a club or something.’

‘No way. There goes my chance of getting close with Jeongguk.’

‘Girl, with ___ hanging around him 24/7, do you think he’d look at girls like us?’

‘A girl can dream though.’

Jimin wanted to open his mouth and tell them they deserve way better than Jeon Jeongguk - though they’re not prettier than you.

He thinks you’re the loveliest girl on planet earth and if there was another life form on another planet, he’s almost a hundred percent sure you’d still be prettiest being in the universe with your obsession for skinny jeans and the way you’d unconsciously pout when he talks about how things weren’t going his way that day as if you would’ve exchanged your abundance of luck with his shitty one just because you’ve got that big of a heart and how you’d be walking with your friends, laughing and giggling and when you see him, you’d wave at him like you’re good friends.

Second only to Jeongguk and your friend group that you’re always hanging out with.

“Oh, ___? We were childhood friends.”

“Hmm… Gguk and I became friends because our parents are friends.”

The two of them say at different times and settings when Jimin asked, trying to play it cool. Like he isn’t just brimming with jealousy. Like he’s not half-way to losing his mind because the girl of his dreams just went to a retreat with his friend-of-a-friend-turned-actual-friend together when everyone else in the group who was excitedly planning for the trip - couldn’t make it.

The rooms at the inn weren’t even pre-booked. It was owned by Jeongguk’s family and they didn’t deposit any money for the trip for them to rationalize going on that trip anyway despite everyone else not being to go.

“The trip? It was fun, if you want we can go together next time.”

Jimin isn’t sure if you even mean that when he asked how the trip went after you’re glistening with the glow of after sex and scrolling through instagram, liking posts of everyone you know.

But then three months later, on your break, Jimin is hit with a ‘keep your schedule free next week for a whole week!!!’

Then he finds himself at a five star hotel by the beach with the most breathtaking view of the sea.

It wasn’t the inn owned by the Jeon’s but Jimin liked the fact that you brought him to a place - and he hopes his assumptions are true - your friends have never been before. Especially Jeongguk.

“Woah, this place is better than I thought,” a king sized bed lies directly across from the balcony where you’re standing, hair flying behind your back as the seaside breeze blows into the room.

“We can watch the sun rise and set from our bed,” Jimin comments for the sake of saying something.

He’s not sure what this means. He’s not sure if he should be having a boner at the thought of the two of you being together for a whole week without any other person getting in the way. He’s not sure if his heart should be thumping this fast.

For the first time since he’s known you, Park Jimin is the most unsure he’s ever been.

“You know what I wanna watch?” Your hands slip in his as you stand between him  and the open balcony door, “you under me, biting your lips because you’re still shy about the sound you make.”

So when you tug him back into the bedroom just minutes after checking in, naturally, Park Jimin follows like he’s been bewitched by your ungodly beauty.

Once the one week of nothing but heavenly morning wishes and passionate night kisses - oh, there was more than just kissing but Jimin remembers how your lips meld so perfectly together with his the most - Jimin is sure.

‘Something definitely changed.’

He thinks maybe it’s not impossible to dream of a future with you even after college.

“Jimin I-... I’m not at a point in life to be thinking about relationships,” you say, hand gripping your arm, head lowered as if your whole body is saying sorry.

“O-oh,” is all he says, he hearts his heart breaking and his chest caving.

All of a sudden, the lights in Gangnam city doesn’t seem so bright anymore.

You both live your last year pretending like the other doesn’t exist. He doesn’t look at you when he passes you and neither did you. Only talks to Jeongguk even though you’re right next to the aforementioned man - granted you were talking with your other friends like you didn’t even notice him there.

But Jimin’s never felt so invisible in his life than he does now.

Then, graduation rolls around and he thinks finally, he won’t have to walk through the hallway and pretend like he didn’t see you. Don't have to keep a five feet distance whenever you meet up for a group project.

Park Jimin doesn’t need to see your pretty face and starry eyes anymore.

“Jimin… do you have a minute?”

Or so he thought.

“So… congrats on surviving college,” you make small talk while standing just ten feet away from the boys whom he’s sure are speculating on what you’re talking about.

Jimin never got to prove to his friends that you’re not the mean, name-forgetting girl they all thought.

Jeongguk knows you’re not. He’s always backing Jimin up when Jimin’s debunking their passing accusations about you.

“Sometimes things just don’t work out between two people but doesn’t mean one of them is the bad guy.” Jeongguk's words put an end to their debate of whether Jimin deserved better than you or not.

For someone young, Jeongguk spoke his mind decidedly.

Jimin felt ashamed that he’d ever been jealous of Jeongguk’s relationship with you.

“I just… didn’t wanna leave things on a bad note. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings when I said no but I really like spending time with you - whether it’s sex or just staying over and cuddling for hours… I like it all.” You say the word sex and cuddle like they’re used interchangeably and Jimin thinks his heart just fluttered.

And you’d said it in public where your everyone can see or possibly pick up on what you were saying, at that.

Well, one thing’s for sure, you’ve got bigger balls than he does.

“My feelings are the same as six months ago and call me crazy but I don’t think you dislike me either.” He finally says and it feels like a deadweight has been lifted off his shoulders.

There comes that pout, as if something is bothering you and you always ever pout like that when that something concerns him.

“You kidding me? I can never dislike you.”

The Jimin from six months ago would have stared at you with disbelief and a dust of pink on his cheeks. But the Jimin he is now simply smiles, heart thumping in his chest. He nods.

“Thanks for telling me that,” and Jimin knows that’s the closest to an ‘I like you’ he can get with the girl who builds an ice fortress around her heart.

A whole year passes by and Jimin finds himself in different shades of grey every day, working at his dad’s company and attending dinner meetings. Life comes to a standstill while time passes him by.

“So, like, you have a sports car, right? Why don’t you come over to the race circuit after dinner? Everyone’s gonna be there.”

Jeongguk tells him over the phone.

And by ‘everyone’ he means the sons and daughters in the corporate world. It’s networking at its finest.

When he’s there, three cars are already racing in the circuit. The smell of burnt rubber and the sound of tires screeching against asphalt isn’t exactly his favorite but they have cheap booze instead of fine wine and he knows the people here are in for the same thing as he is.

An escape.

Away from the grandeur of fine wine and dinner dresses and the elders breathing down their necks and having to act like the next heir to the legacy they were born to carry.

“That Chevrolet over there,” Jeongguk comes, hand on Jimin’s back as his other one that’s holding a bottle of beer points at a red car that looks like a racing fireball, “everyone’s betting on that one tonight.”

Jimin doesn’t know there’s a bet.

“I’ll skip the bet this time ‘round. Haven’t seen the driver yet,” he shrugs dismissively.

Even in stock investment, he’d learned to study the market first before placing his best bet.

Jeongguk leaves his side when his friends - he’s got new ones now - beckons him over. At the same time, the Chevrolet passes the finish line seconds before the Ford Mustang and McLaren 720s, making it the winner of the night.

The driver seems like a show off with the way the car rolls up to the audience, the sound of its engines revving into the night being met with cheers of half-drunk young adults.

Arrogance is a man’s downfall.

Jimin’s about to turn around and head for the exit when the door of the car gets pushed open. The driver steps out, decked in black and red leather jeans and jackets that seem to match the car.

But it’s the smooth, silken hair that cascades past the helmet that catches his eyes.

Park Jimin’s seen many arrogant men in his life but he’s only ever seen one woman with balls and looks good wearing them.

“___! ___! ___!” The crowd starts cheering as you pull off the helmet, holding it underneath your arm and waist.

Your eyes are as brilliant as the night sky full of stars. They’re tinged with shock and then recognition. And finally, you smile that gorgeous smile that gets you misunderstood often as a woman who doesn’t need anything or anyone but uses them as they come.

But Park Jimin knows better than anyone, how wholeheartedly happy that smile looks when you see him.

Like meeting a good friend after a long time.

Seven months down the road, Jimin finds himself with just a blanket draped over his waist while you’re taking a shower in his bathroom to get ready to head to Hong Kong for a business trip.

He hears the sound of the shower head being turned off. The tapping of your foot around his bedroom as you pick up your clothes that are strewn all over the floor.

Then the bed dips ever so gently under your weight as you climb over to him, the fresh scent of shower get filling his senses.  Lips press a deep, lingering kiss on his. As if you don’t want to go to a place where he won’t be.

A few socials and midnight races after his first meeting with you after a long time, you asked him if he’s seeing someone.

“If I say yes, what will you do?” It’s playful at first, because Jimin didn’t want to get himself hurt the second time.

But it’s the way you tilted your head, a finger tapping on your chin as you pondered on his words, “that’s a problem because I don’t want to be that girl that steals another girl’s man,” then you looked at him like you know he’s the one you want to wake up to every morning and the last face you see when you sleep at night and if you can’t have that. then-

“Can you be mine… just for tonight?”

“I don’t think I can.” The crestfallen expression you wear makes his own heart break, even if it’s just for a split second-

“Because I’m not seeing anyone but I’m in that point in life where I want a serious relationship or nothing at all.”

But what he doesn’t tell you is how he doesn’t want a relationship if it’s not with the girl who still haunts his dreams even after all this time.

Just like how you’d turned him down because you weren’t looking to be in a relationship before, you’d courted Jimin like you’d want to spend your whole life with him now.

Flowers got sent to his office everyday until it smells nothing short of floral. You’d be there, waving at him like he’s your savior in that dreadful social you were both attending. Every week, you’d plan dinner dates under the guise of catching up.

Before you race, you’d look over to where he’s standing, as if saying ‘this one’s for you’ before slipping into your car and coming out first every single time.

As if you were making up for every month of the year that you’d let life pass you by.

Now you’ve won a total of 36 races since he met you and the metal band you gifted him on the night of your 12th win feels warm against his skin. As if it’s absorbed all the love and adoration you poured into it.

And you’re wearing that ring he got you on your birthday on your finger that’s resting on his chest where his heart is as he kisses you back just as reluctant to let you leave.

But Park Jimin knows wherever you are, wherever you will be - you will always find your way back to each other.

Back home.

[leamy-world]

Reaction to The Devil Judge (spoilers for ep. 9 & 10)

It’s been a while since i’ve last been on tumblr, but i got invested in this drama every week & the fandom’s analyses to not talk about it sometime! (Last time i was hooked, it was with Beyond Evil and i watched it by the time the finale already aired so i didn’t suffer from the weekly wait!)

So here i am, this is mainly self-indulgent with essay-long interpretations of some scenes in a totally random order, but i’d love to interact with whoever reads this if they want to react!

I’m sorry for the potential awkward phrasings, english is not my first language!

- The recap was nicely done and tied everything together, it made me realize so many things happened since the beginning! The repetition didn’t make me skip it, the narration was dynamic & fun.

- The ‘power display’ & threat Yohan showed to Soohyun (by lashing out at Juk Chang and strangling him, as proxy for Soohyun, in front of her while staring at her) were something …! She answered in the same fashion, passing by him saying she will ‘arrest Juk Chang’. I wonder how their next encounters will unfold.

- Many people already pointed this out, but Soohyun’s decision to leave Elijah, a minor, alone in her car (with its doors open, daring to tell her to stay there when she has no other choice anyway) + stop the gang alone and unannounced off duty was irresponsible. Anyways, i wonder if she will interact again with Elijah because they were adorable, i would miss it!

- The conversation between Soohyun & Gaon at his apartment (ep. 10) was interesting on both parts: 

It sounded casual, but Soohyun wanted to see where he stood in the Kang family and make sure he wasn’t in Yohan’s plans (i hope she didn’t seriously mean the ‘weird’ comment about Elijah, it’d be sad since Elijah enjoyed her company!).

Gaon was anxious professor Min told her about their last conversation (i think she’ll talk to him in the next eps). He also indirectly defended the Kangs by associating himself with them (« I’m pretty sure i’m just as weird ») and voiced his concern about Yohan, speaking more to himself than following the conversation at hand. 

When Soohyun changed the subject with the ‘i’m jealous’ bit, maybe it was to brighten the mood with a light-hearted comment, hoping Gaon would follow. And by the look of her pause right after, it seemed she was also expecting GO’s ‘positive’ reaction to her jealousy, giving in to the kind of teasing/flirt they have in their friendship. But deep down, it was also to voice her true unease about Gaon’s involvement with Yohan she had since the beginning and ep. 8. 

It’s obvious to us she meant she was jealous of Yohan. And GO could’ve understood it this way too, since she confessed to him multiple times and her feelings must be known to him (i think he takes it as a ‘joke’ given how many times she confessed and each time when he was crying, so maybe he thought, very reasonably, it was to cheer him up? I also guess he’s too absorbed by his current worries about the Kangs and her potential suspicion, to notice her attempts). 

But instead of that, he’s not in the same line of thoughts at all and picks up on the « rich », musing on what makes one’s existence rich, thinking Soohyun was envying Yohan’s position and life and proving her he’s indeed in a whole different world, empathizing with Yohan. 

She then looked like her face fell, until her eyes lit up again when he was about to admit she was precious to him along with his family.

By the way, this scene picks up right where we were left off in ep. 8, when Gaon tends to his plants:

« - Are you back for good? - Not really. They need some looking after. - You should come back, not drop by. This is where you live. - Someone there needs some taking care of too. - Take care of your own self, please. - What about me? I’m living a shamelessly comfortable life. Soohyun. - Yes? - What are you thinking about? - Nothing. By the way, Gaon … » (i wonder what she was going to say!)

Lost in thoughts, Gaon’s mixed emotions when he said Yohan was not rich (« he’s not rich. If you get to know him, Kang Yohan is really poor. ») were very well depicted by Jinyoung’s acting: the soft voice and the ghost of a smile that convey understanding and endearment, leaning on his counter in a relaxed stance, but also at the same time the stare lost in the space, maybe to all the memories tied to the Kangs and Yohan, and the tension in his left lip corner by the end of his sentence which betray his sadness and empathy with Yohan’s life. After this, when he became aware of Soohyun’s gaze, it’s like his bubble popped. He looked surprised with his eyes widening, and was fidgeting a little, then changed the subject to himself.

And « I have you, Soohyun » sounded truly grateful but also sad and conflicted, GO lets his worries show when she’s gone, maybe wondering if they would be bound to be against each other one day as he continues to side with Yohan, menacing to jeopardize their friendship to the point of no return. In these kinds of stories you expect these kinds of twists, but i grew fond of the cast send help

- I loved how Yohan’s confession to GO about his brother was filmed: the camera faced head-on his pain, slipping unbeknownst to him through the façade he always showed to protect himself. But this time, despite his (late) attempts to dismiss these feelings both for him and Gaon to regain composure (the hand gestures to hide his tears, pretending to be tough with the  « there’s no such things as innocent people », drinking away his sorrow with a bitter laugh that rings hollow), all this façade fades out in front of Gaon literally by being blurred out in the shot, as if he clearly sees his pain through (his silhouette appearing clear-cut between Yohan’s gestures). I know it’s a pretty classic shot but it fit well with this scene. He clenches his jaw in the next shot, moved by Yohan opening up. 

- The dinner scene was really moving …! Especially when you put the colder tones the kitchen had when we first saw Yohan have dinner by himself next to this scene, full of light in contrast! I wonder when the OST playing will be released, it was so beautiful and reminded me of My Mister’s OST (especially Rainbow!). I look forward to the lyrics, because most of the time the OST gives more layers & depth to the story and the characters! (please don’t let it be about Yohan’s budding feeling of a true ‘home’ ;;) I didn’t realize it upon my first watch, but Gaon really took the cutlery hostage, it cracked me up!

- The parallels in this show will be the end of me: Yohan went from the « i’m so sick of this place » (ep. 5) to asking K to drive him « home » with a delighted smile. 

- I liked the parallel of Yohan’s reaction to GO/Sun-Ah sitting in his office chair, impeding on his space (he reminds SA to stay out of it, the first time politely, the second time almost grimacing, his jaw clenched: « Just because you’re the head of the OSC doesn’t mean you can barge in like this (…) So please stop barging in like this. », while he says nothing to GO)

- At the beginning of ep. 10, we have Yohan saying he doesn’t like «  hanging out with people » & by the end of it, Soohyun saying « My childhood’s best friend is hanging out with a rich guy ».

- These two episodes gave more insight and nuance into Sun-Ah’s character, which was very nice ; and also Cha Kyung-Hee’s comeback (and her last confrontation with Sun-Ah!!!!)

- The people following Juk Chang also targeted sexual minorities according to the subs i had, i wonder if it will be addressed again sometime in the drama. 

- I loved Elijah’s « hacking » technique scene, i felt proud too! I always look forward to her scenes (and Kkomi’s too haha)! And her reaching out Gaon’s shoulder for the first time ;;

- The ‘humans lose their minds when they think they’ve lost what they have’ ……… repeated twice by YH ………… It will hit hard and all those lines will come right back at us viewers, but i’m not prepared haha! And also for the ‘if you want revenge, don’t hesitate’, i hope it doesn’t foreshadow a future revenge Gaon will execute without hesitation aaaaaa

Also, what lawyer Ko said about himself in ep. 8 may apply to Yohan’s case by the end, will he atone for what he did someday? (« I’m no longer a lawyer. I’m just a criminal. When all this comes to an end, I’ll pay for what i did. »)

- I really loved Yohan’s efforts to take into consideration both Elijah’s (he refrained himself from acting rashly like the last time she went out and listened to her) and Gaon’s feelings (stopping him from endangering himself recklessly, not forcing him onto the revenge path lest he’d regret it afterwards, and helping him to face the truth rationally). 

- « She’s hungry for affection. No matter how much you hate the world and the people in it, you can never live alone. You always need someone to rely on. As long as you’re a human being. » Many people commented on it, Gaon must speak from his own experience and empathizes with both Elijah and Yohan’s situation. These two episodes showed how Gaon cares for the Kangs more openly, and i live for it! 

- Give me that domestic scene where Gaon plays cards with YH, the nanny and Elijah! And also more K and lawyer Ko scenes!

- Jinjoo’s and Gaon’s intervention in the trial were gold! And Satie’s Gnossiennes rearrangement playing in the background during Juk Chang’s speech, it’s the cherry on the cake haha

- By the way, there was also an arrangement of Rachmaninoff’s piano concerto no. 2 during the first charity event Yohan went with Jinjoo in the earlier episodes, it was also beautiful!

- GO’s Awkward Smile. I have no words, it is now forever imprinted on my mind.

Have a nice week and take care!

[the-cartoon-princess]

Why I still ship RivaHisu after 139...

Yep, Levi and Historia. Crazy, right. I bet you never thought of the ship before either, but I've been in enough fandoms now to know anything is possible... Rule 34 and all that.  I always feel too scared to openly declare I like this ship (no, love it) even when I say I ship them once Historia reaches 18/19, but now that the manga has officially ended, I feel more comfortable expressing my love for it, and Tumblr seems a safe place. 

I feel the manga left so much open-ended, that anything is possible. So take all this with a pinch of salt...  I get some of the qualms with RivaHisu. He is much older (by 16 years at least), and she has the ship and history with Ymir (YumiKuri) However… bear in mind Ymir was even older than Levi after being a titan for 60 years, so Historia has dated someone much older than herself (if they did date, that is). I suppose Ymir was still mentally and physically a teen in some way, but the age gap still applies.  The one qualm I do understand the most: They had no chemistry and barely interact on screen. Yes, on screen... So much was going on behind the scenes, as I said, anything was possible. It’s all up to interpretation and honestly, I don’t think Yams will ever clear anything up, and in a way, I don’t want him to (though still pining for Hooded person to be Levi). He has given us this amazing gift. You see it with other fandoms such as Harry Potter, people theorize for years to come. An open-ended ending was the best of all in my opinion.  Well, back to that Levi and Hisu never interacting and having no chemistry thing... Well, they did interact for a short time during Uprising. I always thought the reason the anime removed some of Levi’s more violent scenes towards Historia was a sign of the ship becoming canon possibly one day (in about a one in a million chance, but still possible). They also removed the part where he suggested to his soldiers about turning Historia into a titan after she gives birth, but then it turned out nothing came of the ship, and all of my friends marvellous theories concerning the two never came to fruition after all... Or did they? The ending has been left opened-ended... We even have a brand new time skip where Historia is even older, a full grown woman now at 22 who no longer has ‘teen’ at the end of her age. And then we have a full grown man in his late 30s, two grown people who are only a decade apart (twenties and thirties, respectfully), but we also have no true reveal of the father of Historia’s baby... not really. Farmer-Kun never even had a real name at the end (he will always be known as that farmer who knocked up Historia...allegedly).    People will argue about the real father for years to come, so that is to be expected, but I am going to add a few of my own points as to why Levi may still be the father. Call me crazy. Everything is up to debate and some of this is reaching, but I am biased, so I do admit...  Think of me as serious but not too serious... I don’t mind if you don’t care for this ship, but do so in a polite way (please) if possible.   Reason 1. Historia couldn’t openly declare that Levi was the father because the new fascist Jaergerist government would potentially consider her hostile and create a new revolution, doing away with the monarchy all together... They could have even killed her and her baby if they knew she had a traitor’s child, a man who had a hand in killing Eren Jaeger... Reason 2. It looked to me as if Historia was still sending the Alliance letters, and was very willing to negotiate peace talks with them. Who is to say she never kept in touch with Levi either. She could have sent coded letters about their child, about her learning her first words, taking her first steps, etc. (don’t make me cry now).  Reason 3. This is reaching a little now. Honestly, all of this is reaching, but hear me out... Since Levi can’t be on Paradis to help raise his daughter with Historia, that for me, personally, amplifies the angst and the romance between them and just leaves so much room for the imagination. Imagine what it will be like when they do reunite again... Fireworks! Yams was never about writing straightforward, easy romances... His HEAs are bittersweet at most (look at EreMika).  Reason 4. Who was Historia married to when Jean mentioned it to the creep Reiner? Farmer-Kun? It never directly says... I know Levi and Historia couldn’t have married after the Battle of Heaven and Earth because of all the points I made above, but maybe they got married in secret before the Scouts departed to Marely in chapter 123... Reaching for the stars again, I know, but I like to let my mind wander... Hisu may have even mentioned she is married in a letter to Armin, but never specified who she was married to, and that was how the Alliance (sans Levi) knew about it on the boat. She may have also performed a sham wedding to the farmer for the benefit of the people of Paradis to keep up the ruse (honestly feeling bad for Farmer-Kun, being used like this 😂).  Reason 5. It looked to me like Levi was returning to Paradis. That was why he was looking at the plane (and not just because it made him think of Hange). He was looking forward to returning to the island he helped protect for many years, the island where he was born… Maybe he was hoping to finally meet his daughter too. There is way more to discuss. My friends are much better at theorizing at this stuff than I am, but it’s fun to finally get my own voice out here. I was leading up to it by posting parallels between them, but I wanted to wait until the manga was over until I went public with my love of the ship. I mean, I write fanfic for them, but that’s not enough... 

Remember, I ship two consenting adults. Many celeb couples have large age gaps too. Beyoncé & Jay-Z (12 year age difference, for example), and Leonardo DiCaprio’s girlfriend Camila Morrone was born the same year when Leo starred in Titanic back in 1997 (22 year age gap). Age gaps happen… It’s really all up to debate, but these are just little RivaHisu headcanons that I am going to hold on to for a while. It may only exist in fanfiction, but I will still take it. Also, here is a meme I made. Please feel free to use (if you like the ship too that is).  Thank you for reading my dissertation...  

[la-lauren]

My friend/roommate and I stayed up late tonight talking. 

She made a comment that immediately sent me spiraling further into my dark mental hole/funk I’ve been in lately. 

She said (probably paraphrased bc my memory sucks), “I would never count on you for a big commitment like a lease,” when we were talking about our future plans. I quietly responded that I’ve never defaulted on a lease or even been late on paying rent. She said, “Well, I know you do what you have to do, but nothing you ever do is going to be stable, and I accept that.” 

My eyes started watering, so I had to look away. 

This conversation came directly after I admitted that my frequent moves are all in search of love. I flat out said I’m searching the world over to be loved and that it isn’t that I don’t feel loved here but that it’s different -- she has her boyfriend and her kids and her family; I’m secondary to ALL of those people, which is *understandable* and I *get that* and I don’t mean to sound like a jerk by saying it. It’s just the reason I feel the need to leave. I am lonely. Having Finn as a sidekick, a daily life partner, was so calming. Being a nanny was so nice because the kids needed me. 

I am stable when I need to be. I’d argue I want someone to give me a reason to be stable. She openly admits that she wouldn’t be stable if she hadn’t had kids. 

When I came to move in with her, she said from the start she wasn’t expecting me to pay bills. Furthermore, she didn’t want me to. What little I pay is because I pushed for it. It’s not like I’m making minimum wage. I may be working part time hours now, but at $30/hr, it’s more than enough to pay half of rent.

I want to be stable. I want to be loved. I want someone to need me. 

Maybe I should have had child a decade ago too. 

Am I doomed to skip town the rest of my life when the loneliness feels too overwhelming?

God. 

Vulnerability in relationships is painful. Clearly one of my closest friends doesn’t think I’m even capable of being stable ever. 

That hurts. 

Currently have “Matilda” by Harry Styles on repeat now. Clinging to the

“You can see the world, following the seasons Anywhere you go, you don't need a reason 'Cause they never showed you love You don't have to be sorry for doing it on your own“

and 

“You can start a family who will always show you love You don't have to be sorry for doing it on your own“

parts.

With every passing day that I don’t end up married, the closer I am to having as many one night stands as it takes to create a human. (I think I am exaggerating. I don’t think I could ever muster whatever it would take to do that. Any child of mine, biologically, would have to be a product of love.)

But, um, yeah, severely lacking in the love department, and I’m drowning without it. 

Funnily enough though, every time the word “stable” got mentioned, my brain kept countering it with, “Stables are for horses.” Like, repeatedly. My brain was ADAMANT that was the correct response. Like, it was fighting for me. That’s a change. 

I’ve had so many fun experiences and seen so much of the world, and at the end of the day, I am very thankful for all of it. 

But also at the end of the day, I wish I were 17 again in Alexia’s room talking about our futures instead. I want a do over. Knowing all that I know now, I want a do over. 

I don’t want whatever reputation it is that I have now. 

I think her comments made me want to retreat even further from other people. Up until now, I’ve been fairly open about my life plans on social media. But maybe people aren’t excited with me for each move. Maybe they’re judging me too, shaking their heads about how “unstable” I am. 

I’ve been teetering on the edge of deactivating everything. I think this gave me the push. This new tumblr is the exception, of course. 

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Miami Nights (Ethan x MC)

Warning: 18+, NSFW.

Summary: While in Miami to celebrate their upcoming wedding, Ethan and Naomi sneak away from the festivities to have their own celebration.

A/N: Like all of my NSFW fics, this was 100% self indulgent and written with only me in mind. 

Tags: @fanmantrashcan @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @writinghereandthere @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @mal-volaris @whatchique @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @mvalentine @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey

As always, let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged. And if your tags do not work, I’m sorry, and blame Tumblr. ~v~ In a perfect world, Ethan Ramsey would be at home, on his couch, a good book in one hand and a tumbler of scotch in the other. The last place he necessarily wants to be is in the crowded bar of a Miami hotel, sandwiched between a 21 year old girl and her friends, and some guy crying into his pint of beer.

The things Ethan does for love.

Coming to Miami was Naomi’s idea. She wanted a fun weekend away for their bachelor and bachelorette parties, and Miami was the only place she even considered going. What better way to celebrate their upcoming nuptials than to go to the city, specifically the hotel that started it all?

He hasn’t seen her all day, her friends kidnapping her as soon as their plane touched down. He misses her. They’ve been attached at the hip ever since they began dating, even more so after she moved into his condo, and being without her feels strange, even if it’s only for a night. And while he’s grown fond of Naomi’s merry band of misfits, spending the entire night with Bryce, Elijah, and Rafael requires more patience than he has.

He’s spent the entire day with them, and his capacity to be around other people has reached its limit. So while the guys were making plans of going to a strip club, Ethan left altogether, quietly slipping out of their room.

Ethan feels a tap on his shoulder. “Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

He’d recognize that voice anywhere, the slight drawl of Naomi’s accent when she has to pronounce certain words. Once he’s turned around, all thoughts of what he could possibly say are gone.

After two years together, Naomi’s beauty shouldn’t stun him anymore, but she still manages to render him speechless.

“Wow,” is the word his brain finally settles on.

Forever the drama queen, Naomi twirls around so her fiancé can get a full look at the sparkly dress she’s wearing. “I take it you like the dress?”

“You look beautiful.” 

“Thank you.” Her eyes sweep over Ethan, taking him in. He’s not doing anything in particular, but his presence is still commanding and magnetic. “You look pretty handsome yourself. Now, do you care to tell me why you’re missing your bachelor party?”

“I didn’t want to go to a strip club,” Ethan says simply. “And Lahela kept referring to us in third person, calling us ‘The Boys’ all night. It was becoming tiresome, so I left.”

“You can’t leave your own bachelor party.”

“Says the woman who ditched her bachelorette party,” Ethan shoots back.

Naomi rolls her eyes. “I only left my bachelorette party because you texted me to meet you down here.”

“I was simply over the night,” he says with a shrug. “We did a bit of gambling, we went to a cigar lounge, we got dinner. That’s more than enough entertainment for me. The other guys will be fine for the rest of the night if I’m not there.”

“Well if you’re checking out for the night, so am I.”

“No, you can still enjoy the festivities with your friends.”

Naomi shrugs. “Kyra and Sienna went too hard on the tequila shots at the club, and they’re currently passed out. Aurora, Jackie, and I were just in their room talking.”

“About anything in particular?”

“Mostly hospital gossip, nothing major.” Naomi takes a step forward and wraps her arms around Ethan’s neck. “Take me to our room, we can order room service and have our own celebration.”

One of Ethan’s eyebrows raises at the command. His hand travels to his fiancée’s hip, squeezing roughly. “Oh yeah? What kind of celebration?”

“I don’t know,” Naomi says, playing coy. “But I’m sure you can come up with something, doctor.”

~v~

They manage to get to their floor in record time, after Ethan requests that a bottle of wine get sent up to their room, which is a miracle because they spend entirely too much time stumbling through the halls, stealing kisses and touching each other.

Because they got separated early in the day, Naomi didn’t get a chance to see the room she and Ethan would be staying in for the weekend. As soon as he slides the key card through the door and pushes it open, Naomi just knows.

It’s the same suite she and Ethan shared the first time they visited The Celestial. “Ethan, this is...wow.”

“I take it you’re surprised?”

“I’m more than surprised.”

Naomi wanders around the room, her fingers lightly touching all of the fixtures. The bedding is still the same, white and lavender, the room open and light. It even smells the same, and suddenly she’s transported back in time, 3 years ago.

Leaving Ethan where he’s standing, Naomi heads to the balcony, throwing open the sliding glass door. Everything is so still, weird for a city like Miami that’s constantly buzzing with energy. She doesn’t notice Ethan step out a minute later, a chilled bottle of merlot and two glasses in his hand.

He pops open the bottle and pours them both a glass, handing one to her. “Would you like to toast?”

“Sure.” Naomi raises her glass. “Here’s to us, our upcoming nuptials, and the best marriage the world has ever seen.”

“That’s a bold toast.” Ethan gently clinks his glass against hers. “I’ll drink to that.”

Naomi takes a hearty sip, ignoring all of the tips a sommelier usually gives on how to drink, the fruitiness of the wine taking over. She watches as Ethan heads to the railing, his own glass less than full.

“I still can’t believe you managed to get this room,” she says, sighing wistfully, overlooking the ocean from her vantage point. “How did you pull it off?”

“Everyone has a price. I said money was no object, and when I told them it was a surprise for my fiancée, they were a bit more inclined to help.”

“Really?” Ethan hums and nods in response. 

“I told them the room has sentimental value to me,” he explains further. “It’s the room where I realized I was utterly helpless against your charms.”

“Ethan Ramsey, you’re truly a romantic at heart.”

He’ll never get used to hearing her praise him so openly. Ethan ducks his head down so Naomi can’t see the flush creeping up his neck at the compliment. “You bring out this romantic side of me.”

She goes to join him at the railing. He doesn’t say anything, but he slips his arm around her waist, pulling her close.

Butterflies bloom in her stomach at his words. It’s nice to know that their first trip to Miami means so much to him, because it was an absolute game changer for her.

“I remember everything about that night so vividly,” Naomi says, her voice almost a whisper.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Losing to Declan in that poker match, coming out here, sharing a bottle of pinot noir, and talking about Naveen and my dreams for the type of doctor I want to be. I remember it all.”

“And then we kissed,” Ethan adds.

“Oh yeah, we did kiss, huh? I can’t believe I almost forgot that.”

“Ha ha, Rookie.”

“You know I’m just kidding. Of course I remember that kiss. It was the start of quite the journey for us.” A pained look flashed across Ethan’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“I kissed you and then I immediately reneged. I started us on that ridiculous journey and wasted so much precious time because I didn’t want to admit that I was falling for you.”

“Hey.” Naomi grabs Ethan’s hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “I love you, and look at where we are right now. We’re getting married next week, we’re starting the rest of our lives together. Yes, the journey took a bit longer than I had hoped, but I don’t think I’d change anything in our past. It’s led us to this moment right here.”

“How are you so much more...wise and articulate than me?”

Naomi shrugs. “It’s a gift. Not everyone is privileged to possess it.”

“You remember all of the broad strokes of that night in Miami, but I’m more fond of the tiny details.”

“Like what?”

“I remember your blue dress and how it matched my eyes,” he starts. “I remember the sweet smell of your perfume, jasmine. I remember your coconut shampoo. I remember the way your pupils dilated when you saw me step out of the shower.” Ethan pulls Naomi closer to him and one of his hands gently cups her face. “It’s the same look you gave me when you realized that I threw that poker game for Naveen’s benefit, one of pure awe.”

“Your skin was incredibly soft,” Ethan continues, his finger tracing a nonsensical pattern on her collarbone. “Like silk. And it still is. But you want to know my favorite memory of that night?”

“Wh-what?”

A hand underneath her chin, Ethan tilts Naomi’s head up, their lips dangerously close. If she moves just a hair closer, they’ll be kissing. She’s tempted to just take the plunge, but she’s frozen, trapped under a spell of his.

With that, Ethan’s mouth descends on hers, pulling Naomi into a kiss with a ferocity she wasn’t expecting. She melts into it immediately, moaning, her hand flying to the back of his neck, getting tangled in the hair at the nape. She can taste the wine of him, the sweet taste of cherries as tongue slips into her mouth, deepening the kiss.

Ethan pulls away only to nip at the corner of her mouth. “That fucking moan of yours. The tiny little noise you make at the back of your throat whenever you’re aroused. It’s been playing in my head on a loop ever since.”

His beard scratches a path down Naomi’s neck and shoulder as he kisses her.

“You want to make that sound for me again?” Naomi nods frantically, desperate for whatever is about to come her way. “Good girl.”

Taking her hand, Ethan pulls her away from the railing. Instead of heading back into their suite, he presses her into the tall pillar next to them, barely giving her enough time to put down her wine glass. The exposed skin of her back collides into the pillar with a soft thud.

“Out here?” She asks with a squeak as Ethan tugs at her dress.

Ethan shrugs. “Why not?”

His lips are on her neck again in an instant, clouding her judgment and making it harder to respond. “Someone can–” she dissolved into a fit of moans at Ethan’s ministrations. “Someone can see us.”

“We’re thirty floors up,” Ethan deadpans. “And it’s pitch black out here, no one will see us.” He grabs her hips, pulling her flush against him, and Naomi gasps at how hard he is. “Now hearing you, that’s another story. You’re loud and I have every intention to make you scream.”

If he wasn’t holding onto her, Naomi is sure she would’ve fallen over at his words. Ethan’s cockiness is on full display, and arrogant Ethan was definitely one of her favorite versions of him.

Ethan pulls away, giving Naomi a bit of breathing room so she can properly think again. “Does that sound like a plan, Valentine? Me having my way with you right here on this balcony?”

“God, yes.” She ignores the way he smirks at her unbridled eagerness. Ethan has a healthy enough ego without her stroking it.

“Correct answer, Rookie.”

Ethan’s hand wraps around the silky material at the top of Naomi’s dress and yanks it down. Naomi hears the ripping of the material and her eyes fly open in shock at the cool Miami air hitting her exposed chest.

“We’re going to have to talk about the serious lack of respect you have for my clothing.”

“You told me you got this dress because someone you called a “Pictagram influencer” advertised it and had a coupon code making it 70% cheaper,” Ethan counters.

“Yes, the dress was cheap, but you have to stop ripping all of my clothes.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“With a new dress?”

Ethan rolls his eyes at his fiancée’s quip, but he ignores it. “Something better.” He kisses down her neck and chest, stopping to wrap his lips around her nipple, biting down gently.

It takes a second for Naomi to register that the source of the unladylike growl filling the air is her. She grips Ethan’s shoulder to steady herself, her nails digging through his shirt, and her head falls forward at the sensation.

“You’re always so responsive to me,” Ethan murmurs softly. His mouth descends on her other nipple, his tongue flattening over the pebbled bit of flesh. “And I don’t even have to do anything to you.”

“Well, can you do something to me?”

“You young people have no patience,” Ethan clicks his tongue teasingly. Slowly, he sinks down to his knees in front of Naomi, tugging her dress down with him. He’s already ripped it, there’s no use in exercising any more care. The sparkly dress pools at Naomi’s feet and she kicks it away.

“You old people move too slow–”

The words die on her throat as Ethan hooks a finger into the band of underwear and tugs them down at a frenzied pace. His calloused fingers dig into her hips, hard enough to bruise. She always calls him old, teasing him into accepting whatever challenge she’s thrown his way. “I’ll show you old, Rookie.”

Leaving her hip, one of Ethan’s hands travels to her knee, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He hooks her leg over his shoulder, giving him more leverage.

She can feel his breath, warm and tickling on the inside of her thigh, so close, yet so far away from where she actually needs him to be. Her hips fly forward, a silent plea for him to continue this little game they’re playing. Thankfully Ethan doesn’t tease her any further as his tongue flies out, licking at her folds.

Naomi inhales sharply and she nearly hikes up the wall at the sensation. “Oh, God.”

“You’re so wet for me, Naomi,” Ethan whispers against the overly sensitive flesh.

He dives back in, moaning against her and Naomi throws her head back at the vibration. “Always for you.”

She can tell by the way his blue eyes sparkle as they lock eyes that he’s smirking. But Naomi doesn’t have time to care about that because his lips wrap around her clit and he sucks hard. Naomi cards her fingers through his hair, tugging at him roughly, like she will die if he doesn’t keep his attention right where it is. 

It doesn’t last long though, and with ridiculous strength and skill, Ethan manages to grab her wrists in one hand, and keeps her hips planted against the pole with the other. Naomi receives the message loud and clear: he’s in control here, unequivocally.

Secure in the fact that she won’t be doing too much moving, Ethan doubles down, his tongue lapping at her. The familiar scratch of his beard against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh only makes her more delirious with lust.

Molten core levels of heat prick at every bit of her skin, from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. Her stomach tightens and there’s a tingle at the base of her spine. She’s close and it’s not fair that he can make her come this quick, and she’s not sure if she hates it or loves it. “I’m gonna–”

“I know.”

Ethan pulls away slightly, but Naomi doesn’t get the chance to whine about it. In an instant, he’s slipped a finger inside of her, earning a groan. He is just so...relentless in his goal, and Naomi barely has a chance to breathe before she’s keening (something so dramatic and unlike her. Ethan will never let her live it down). Her orgasm is swift, crashing into her like a tidal wave, knocking her off kilter almost instantly. Ethan doesn’t back away, his mouth still on her, working her through the release.

Her entire body is buzzing, still wracked with aftershocks when Ethan finally stands up. His eyes are dark, no longer the ocean blue they usually are, now taking on something closer to the midnight sky, fully dilated and hooded. His mouth is wet, slick with...well her, and Naomi has never wanted to kiss him more.

“That was a promising start,” Ethan says. “But it’s just that: a start. I’m nowhere near done with you.”

A start? If Naomi had the energy to do so, she would laugh at him, but one look in Ethan’s eyes lets her know that he’s being serious. She gulps audibly. She’s a shaky puddle of goo right now, and that was only the beginning?

“Turn around, hands against the pillar,” Ethan commands.

“Wh-what?”

“You heard me loud and clear, Naomi. Hands out, ass up.”

He’s using his commanding doctor voice on her, and she loves it. Naomi does what she’s told, palms flat against the pillar holding up the balcony.

She hears rustling from behind, and she’s sure he’s undressing. Now she’s extremely aware of their power imbalance: she’s stark naked, save for a pair of high heels, while he’s still fully dressed. It’s not fair. Shifting slightly, Naomi lifts a foot and shakes it, hoping to get the shoe off in one fell swoop.

She’s stopped short of her plan as a sharp smack is delivered to her ass. She’s unable to contain the expletive in her throat, a loud, “Fuck!” drifting into the Miami air.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ethan asks.

“Taking off these heels.”

He tsks at her, as if the answer isn’t good enough. “I don’t remember giving you permission to do so.”

The authoritative tone zips straight through her, and Naomi turns to face him, putting on her best doe eyes. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Christ.” Naomi didn’t know it was possible, but Ethan’s eyes darken even further at the word. He doesn’t bother stripping out the rest of his clothes, just quickly undoing his belt and pushing his pants down until they pool at his ankles. Without warning, Ethan wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Naomi’s back collides with his chest with a hard thud. “Kiss me.”

That’s not a command that needs repeating. Naomi tilts her head back in an attempt to kiss him, but their vast height difference and Ethan’s death grip on her make it a challenge. She just barely manages to capture the corner of his mouth before Ethan growls impatiently, and grabs her neck, forcing her head back to deepen the kiss.

It’s overwhelming and heady, and she’s so caught up in it, she doesn’t even realize his cock, hard and pulsing, is poised at the entrance until he plunges into her in one smooth thrust.

If he wanted her loud, he got what he asked for, because Naomi breaks their kiss in order to scream at the welcome intrusion. The air rushes from her lungs, and she can’t even begin to breathe again before Ethan pulls out and enters her again with just as much intensity as before.

She feels delirious, and she can’t pinpoint why. Maybe it’s the fact that they’re 400 feet above solid ground, and one look down makes her head spin. Maybe it’s the fact that someone, somewhere in this hotel knows exactly what they’re doing. Maybe it’s the fact that every inch of her skin burns deliciously as Ethan has her stretched at full fucking capacity, and she has nowhere to run or hide. There’s no sheets she can pull, no pillows to muffle her moans, nothing she can grab onto to anchor herself to reality. She’s suspended in this moment, and she can’t do anything but simply take it as Ethan fucks into her like a madman.

The noises she’s making along with the sound of their skin slapping together is wildly obscene, and it only spurs Ethan on. Abandoning her throat, his hand travels down to her chest, his forefinger and thumb pinching her nipple, bringing the tiny nub to an almost painfully hard peak. He makes sure to give the same level of attention to the other nipple, torturing his fiancée until she’s whining unintelligibly.

His lips find her earlobe and he bites down. “Are you close again?”

“Yes,” Naomi answers.

Instead of speeding up, Ethan slows down, his thrusts slowing down to an agonizingly deep pace, fully pulling out of her and thrusting in again at a leisurely pace, the sole intent of driving her insane.

“Ethan,” she whines. She’s a shaking mess, unable to do much else besides cry out and occasionally moan his name. Her spine curves, back arching and her head falls against his shoulder. “Fuck! Ethan, please.”

“Please, what?”

Despite his teasing, Naomi can tell he’s just as desperate as she is. His breath is coming out in ragged and uneven pants, there’s a thin layer of sweat, slick and coating his chest, and she can feel his heartbeat, wild and erratic against her back. He’s just as tortured as she is.

In a Hail Mary attempt to get what she wants, her inner muscles clench down on him, stopping him mid-thrust. Ethan’s knees buckle, the move unexpected and throwing him off-kilter.

“Shit, Naomi,” he manages to rasp out. “You don’t play fair.”

Being fair has no place in this, she plays to win, but she has no time to throw it back in his face as he presses into her clit with the pad of his thumb, applying just enough pressure to make her yelp.

If her last climax felt like getting slammed with a tidal wave, this one feels like floating down a river: languid and unrelenting, refusing to stop. It consumes her entire body, engulfing her in pleasure so white hot and intense, she’s sure stars are popping behind her eyelids as every bit of pleasure is wrung out of her body until there’s nothing left to give.

Ethan’s thrusts speed up again, messy and spasmodic, all rhythm gone. His hips snap against hers before she feels him coming, his entire body going rigid.

Thankfully, Ethan has enough energy left to pull them into a chair because Naomi was more than willing to simply collapse onto the concrete and stay there. She curls into his side, her face finding a spot in the crook of his neck.

They don’t speak for what feels like forever, both just trying to regulate their breathing and return back to normal.

Ethan breaks the comfortable silence, but Naomi barely realizes he’s talking before it’s too late to fully listen. She tilts her head back so they can lock eyes. “What?”

“I asked if you’re okay,” Ethan says.

“I can’t feel my legs,” is all Naomi manages to say. Ethan chuckles and reaches forward, slipping Naomi’s heels off, the relief pretty much instant.

“Better?”

“Much.” She sighs sleepily, her eyelids growing heavy. She burrows deeper into his side, Ethan’s body heat lulling her to sleep. “This was much better than staying in the girls’ room.”

“And it was much better than going to a strip club with your friends,” Ethan adds.

“You like them. They’re your friends too, don’t deny it.” Ethan doesn’t outright confirm or deny anything, which is all the confirmation Naomi needs. “Told you so.”

“How about a shower, Miss Know-It-All?” 

“Sounds great,” Naomi huffs, but she makes no effort to move.

“This is doing more for my ego than you’ll ever know.” Ethan is careful, extracting himself from Naomi’s grip in order to get up. He then hooks his arms underneath her, lifting her up bridal style to carry her back into their suite.

Naomi might as well be unconscious because she’s dead weight in his arms as he maneuvers his way to the en-suite. Thankfully the shower isn’t complicated and all Ethan has to do is turn a few knobs for it to turn on. He waits a few seconds to make sure the water is the perfect temperature, before pulling Naomi in with him.

They don’t spend too much time in the marble and glass box, as Ethan can see Naomi is probably seconds from passing out. The shower is over almost as quickly as it began. Both wrapped in large hotel robes, Ethan nudges Naomi back to the bedroom where she collapses face down onto their bed.

Once Ethan is in bed with her, Naomi rolls over, her face firmly planted on his chest. Upon making contact, Naomi sighs.

Ethan kisses the top of her head. “I can practically hear your thoughts. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Naomi assures him. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“It just feels...surreal, being back in Miami, being back in this room,” Naomi explains. “We’re getting married next weekend.”

Ethan lifts Naomi’s left hand, her engagement ring sparkling in the moonlight. “It does feel surreal.”

“I think we should make it a tradition, coming out here.” Ethan looks down at her, a curious eyebrow raised. Naomi feels the need to explain herself, the words rushing out of her mouth. “It doesn’t have to be annual or anything, but I want this to be our special place.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Ethan says. The next they come to Miami, she’s going to be his wife, and the thought spends a thrill down his spine.

“And we have to have sex on the balcony. It’s tradition now.”

“I’m starting to think you only want me for my body.”

“Of course not,” Naomi argues. “I’m in it for your money, too.” Ethan pinches her leg for the teasing, and she squirms away from him, laughing.

“When I die, I’m bequeathing all of my money to Jenner.”

“He’s a good boy, he’d share with me.” 

Ethan rolls his eyes and pulls Naomi in for another kiss. They don’t make it very far though, as the sound of a cell phone pierces through the air, making them spring apart.

“Yours or mine?” Ethan asks, eyes scanning the room for the source of the noise.

Naomi bends over and sees her cell phone on the floor by their bed, and not on the nightstand. 

Weird. She picks it up, and her eyes widen at the amount of texts she’s received in the past minute, the vibration so strong, it knocked the phone off of the table. “It’s mine.”

Bryce L: DUDE!!!

Bryce L: Where the duck r u?

Bryce L: ????????????????????????????????

Bryce L: Srsly not funny, did u run away from ur own bachelor party?

Bryce L: Pick up fone. Nay will murder us for losing u. 

Bryce L: But I will murder fist, 4 running away

Bryce L: Oh shut. Naomi, ignore this!!! 

Bryce L: JK, false alarm

Bryce L: Ethan is fine, picky promise!

Between the misspelled words and strings of emojis, Naomi can tell that her surgeon friend is completely drunk, but she manages to figure out what he’s saying. “So Bryce is having a meltdown because he lost you.” Taking the phone from Naomi’s hand, Ethan holds it up to his face, squinting as he reads. “And he thinks he was texting you, when he really just texted me.”

Ethan chuckles slightly, and mere seconds later, his own cell phone rings ‘Dr. Bryce Lahela’ flashing across the screen. “He’s figured it out, and he’s calling me now. Should I answer?”

“No. Let them have their Hangover moment.”

“Their what?”

“From The Hangover. The movie with Bradley Cooper, Ed Helms, Zack Galifiniakis where they get totally shitfaced and lose their best friend a day before his wedding,” Naomi explains. Ethan just stares at her blankly. “Oh my gosh, you’ve never seen it?”

“How does this come as a shock to you, Rookie?”

“Well, we can't get married until you’ve seen the entire trilogy.”

That makes Ethan’s brows fly up. “There’s 3 of those movies that you want me to sit through?”

“God Grandpa, you’re so lame,” Naomi groans and her hand reaches out onto the nightstand, grabbing the remote control. She points to the large flatscreen tv in front of them. “Hopefully we can order movies on this. If not, I brought my laptop so–” Ethan plucks the remote from her hand, and tosses it to the edge of the king sized bed. It lands softly. “Hey!”

“I don’t care about some stupid movie.”

“It’s not stu–” He tugs at the knot holding her robe together until it falls open. “Ethan…”

“You have options, soon to be Missus Ramsey,” Ethan starts. He rolls over until he’s on top of Naomi, his arms bracing either side of her cage, caging her underneath him. “We can watch that movie, or we can pick up where we left off on the balcony. Which choice do you prefer?”

“The movie,” Naomi quips back with a smirk.

She laughs at her own joke and Ethan’s eyes darken mischievously, taking on the challenge. “Just for that, I’m going to guarantee that you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

[fromzerotoeuphoria]

Addressing Haru’s Emotions Towards Makoto vs Rin (Season 1, Ep 11 & 12)

(ft. my low quality first attempt at gifmaking) 

So I was innocently looking up Rin and Haru meta on Google (I’m addicted to RinHaru meta plz send help) when I came across this little thread that tried to discredit RinHaru by comparing Haru’s emotional confrontation with Rin in S01E12 vs Haru’s emotional “thank you” to Makoto in S1E11.

Oh give me a break.

{gif from google}

Disclaimer before we dive in:

Now, I know this was posted by antis back when the shipwars within the fandom were at their worst, but I still wanted to address this because I myself am new to Free! and the fandom (I discovered Free! a couple of months ago in mid-July), and being so new to the fandom, these kinds of comments hit like they’re fresh, ya know? I know for me, finding posts of people defending both Rin and RinHaru against the hate really brought me comfort as a baby in the fandom, and I know there are new people coming into the fandom who may feel the same way.

Also, although many of these tumblr posts were written years ago, I still see this kind of stuff active on the internet: on youtube, anime forums, and even kpop forums, believe it or not. So there are still people out there who think these kinds of ways and say these kinds of things, and hopefully addressing posts like these will help highlight the inaccuracies in this kind of thinking...while, again, bringing a sense of consolation to other RinHaru shippers out there.

Makoto is my lil-big squish and I appreciate the MakoHaru friendship, so in no way am I trying to undermine their relationship because it is important (and there’s no way you can deny that Haru does love Makoto at least platonically). So though I may come off strong towards these types of MH shippers, it doesn’t mean I’m talking about all MH shippers and it’s certainly not towards Makoto. I will, however, place things in a proper perspective because I see a lot of exaggerating and misrepresenting going on in order to undermine just how much Rin means to Haru (which is baffling to me because it’s so obvious and CANON just how strongly Haru cares about Rin and wants him in his life).

And YES, I’m a RinHaru shipper. There is a possibility of ship-bias, but I do my best to be fair. Plus, I love these boys.

Well, let’s get into it.

(tl;dr in bold & at end of post)

...but telling Makoto “thank you” and that he “appreciates him being here for him” is overwhelming to the point that he can’t even look at Makoto while talking and feels the need to run out of his room in the middle of the night, the night before their super important relay.

So the scene with Makoto being referenced by OP is the MakoHaru scene in S01E11 in which both Makoto and Haru are in their hotel room the night before the big tournament. They’re in their respective beds, and Haru opens up to Makoto and thanks him for always being there for him. Feeling embarrassed as well as being unable to sleep, Haru leaves and goes for a run.

Then of course, the climactic scene of the whole season: Rin and Haru’s final confrontation. No need for me to summarize it because we ALL know what goes down:

last gif brought to you straight out of a shoujo manga ;D

Comparing Haru's reactions between these two counters is erroneous because so much about them is different, and thus Haru is coming from totally different places emotionally. 

These are two different situations under completely different circumstances (with two different people who hold different places in Haru's heart. Again, different). With Makoto, you had a sweet, heartfelt moment in which Haru opens up his heart to his best friend and thanks Makoto deeply (in his Haru-like way) for always being there for him, for being someone he can always depend on and lean upon for all these years.  With Rin, you had a culmination of so much raw emotion and misunderstanding between two friends who cared about each other—but thought the other person didn’t reciprocate—finally coming to a head-on collision. This has Haru in a completely different mental and emotional state when he confronted Rin than when he was with Makoto in their hotel room. 

Haru went through a whole freakin' lot over the years, even just in Season 1 alone. He just experienced an "existential crisis" of sorts in eps 8 and 9 after Rin told him he was never going to swim with him again, and Makoto was a big part of why Haru was able to overcome that feeling of blackness and discover his enjoyment in swimming relay (Rei and Nagisa and their team-manship being the other part of the reason). Makoto has been THE constant support in Haru's life, always supporting him from the shadows and taking care of him without ever asking for anything in return. I believe that in the excitement, anticipation and emotions of the entire team's journey thus far that brought them to that hotel room for their big tournament, Haru began thinking about everything that led up to such a big moment in their lives. And he knew that the major support in his life right there in the hotel room with him, and in this poignant moment, Haru expresses his gratitude.

(Sidenote: a confession of gratitude =/= a love confession, folks. I've seen people hype up that Shimizaki called it a “confession” from Haru to Makoto, and that Utsumi agreed, and so they somehow equate it to a "confession of love" when…sorry luvs, but no. In the same statement Utsumi says, "…it is a confession to his best friend.[…] this is the first time he openly expresses his feelings of gratitude for that consistent support." It’s a confession of gratitude, not non-platonic “love.”) [x]

And Haru being Haru, he doesn’t often express himself emotionally. The hotel scene was one of the few times Haru ever verbally expressed to Makoto how deeply he appreciates him, and of course, as someone who doesn’t express their emotions or feelings on the regular, he was embarrassed. I agree that it’s totally sweet and makes you uwu because Haru expressing his emotions is uwu, and the fact that he did it to his best friend Makoto who's BEEN deserving it makes it even more UWU. I totally understand how this scene is precious to MakoHaru shippers, and it should be for it was a very sweet and heartwarming scene between the two best friends (and it was about time Haruka expressed his appreciation to Makoto).

That being said, trying to use an exaggeration of what actually happened in that scene as ammo against Haru’s feelings for Rin is just...not it. Haru didn’t leave the hotel room solely because he was embarrassed about thanking Makoto, and certainly not because:

...telling Makoto “thank you” and that he “appreciates him being here for him” is overwhelming to the point that he can’t even look at Makoto while talking and feels the need to run out of his room in the middle of the night, the night before their super important relay.

 ...as OP claims. There were other factors that played a much more significant part in Haru feeling “overwhelmed” and causing him to “feel the need to run out of his room in the middle of the night before their super important relay”—one of those factors being said super important relay.

We know Haru is nervous about the tournament and can’t sleep because of it—Makoto even calls him out on this. Then shortly after, when Haru runs into Nagisa out in the town, Nagisa and Haru go to a nearby playground and Nagisa also asks Haru if he’s can't sleep because he's nervous. Haru tries to dodge the question (he doesn’t want to admit it, very on brand for Haru), but when Nagisa admits that even he’s nervous—and has been so since they got onto the bus—Haru is shocked and asks, “You are??!” He’s surprised that he wasn’t the only one feeling nervous about the tournament, which confirms Makoto’s observation from earlier: that Haru is nervous about the tournament and can’t sleep because of it. This along with him being embarrassed are why he goes out for the run. (But honestly, it makes way more sense to the story that it was primarily because of his nervousness about the tournament that he left the hotel room, not because he was embarrassed thanking Makoto).

Also, just pointing out: Nagisa reveals one of the reasons why Haru is nervous about the tournament (and therefore one of the reasons he can’t sleep):

Nagisa: “We’ll be racing Rin-chan tomorrow. That’s probably why you’re nervous.”

I know that some shippers out there (*eyes OPs*) would love to tell themselves that it was all just Haru feeling so overwhelmed with emotion from merely telling Makoto that he appreciates him, and that Haru just couldn’t handle sharing these emotions with the one he luvvvs so he runs out into the middle of the night because it’s all just TOO OVERWHELMING...

...but, that’s just not how it actually was.

YES Haru was embarrassed from expressing his appreciation to Makoto, but he was also nervous and anxious about the tournament—and about racing against Rin. Remember, the last time he raced Rin in ep 7/8, Rin won and told Haru he’d never have to swim with him again. That left Haru in a black hole; yet on the flip side, when he had raced Rin in middle school and won, Rin said that he was quitting swimming and in turn, Haru also quit competitive swimming because he thought he hurt Rin. So in Haru's mind: "beating Rin = losing Rin, which means I get hurt BUT ALSO Rin winning = never swimming with him again/losing Rin, which still means I get hurt." So you can imagine the apprehension, anxiety and nervousness Haru is dealing with from all these different uncertainties. (@skania​ explains Haru’s internal dilemma regarding beating Rin very well in this post; seriously you guys her Free! Meta is everything I'm in love with her posts, please go check her stuff out.)

 Haru being embarrassed with Makoto does NOT mean that, as the mh shippers in the OP are insinuating, Haru doesn’t actually care about Rin because he wasn’t “overwhelmed” with emotion enough to run from the situation, but instead was “just fine” during his confrontation with Rin. 

i still can’t get over the fact that Haru gets through the entire end scene with Rin face-to-face just fine (where they’re yelling about feelings and Rin’s crying on him and everything’s so amped up between them)

Umm…did you guys just skip over this entire scene that was legitimately the most emotionally-charged scene in the entire season?

Haru literally has tears in his eyes as he finally [and “desperately”] reveals to Rin how he really feels [x]:

Did you not hear how just seconds earlier, Haru was literally shouting his feelings to Rin, and how before that he momentarily fell back into a black hole at the thought of never being able to swim with Rin again?

Did you totally miss how even Nagisa pointed out that Haru wasn’t in the condition to swim their relay at their "super important tournament" because he was so devastated about Rin? Did you not watch as Haru risked his relay race at said "super important tournament" to go look for Rin—”running with abandon”—and reconcile with him?

Did y’all not watch the same anime as the rest of us in which the whole resolution is Haru and the rest of the guys willingly getting disqualified at the super important tournament just so they could have a chance to swim relay with Rin again?

Are you guys so obsessed with your ship that you willingly blind yourselves to what’s actually going on in the anime outside of your otp?

 Like I said above, Haru was in different emotional states in these two scenes:

With Makoto, Haru is embarrassed from emotionally opening up and expressing his appreciation for Makoto—something he does not usually do—coupled with his anxiety and nervousness about the relay.

With Rin, Haru is in pure relief that after all of this time, after all of these years, Rin feels the same as him and that he’s finally able to reconcile with his friend. 

What did the OPs expect, for Haru to run away from Rin in that scene because he’s so overwhelmed with emotion? Haru ran after Rin—he was DONE running away from Rin, and with Rin running away from him. This entire episode was about their reconcilement, not them running away from each other yet again. Haru is finally free from the emotional weights of his unresolved conflict with Rin, and what OPs claim to be Haru being “just fine” is in actuality Haru being utterly relieved and happy. Throughout the season, Haru had been wanting to feel free, but it wasn't until he and Rin reconciled that he actually achieved that freedom.Can you really deny the emotion in Haru’s eyes and smile during this scene? I mean, just look at him:

Do you really think KyoAni is going to have Haru be “jUsT fInE” after he finally made things right with the friend who had been haunting him ever since elementary school?

BOTH scenes were emotional for Haru. BOTH scenes were important for Haru, and for his friends involved. BOTH interactions evoked strong emotions within Haru because he loves and cares about BOTH Makoto and Rin.

.

.

Tl;dr: Haru was much more (expressively) emotional in the entirety of ep12—let alone in the confrontation scene with Rin—than he was in the hotel room with Makoto. No one can honestly deny that, it's all over the animation and soundtrack and directing of the entire episode. This isn't a knock to Makoto and doesn't mean Haru cares about him any less than he actually does. However, the entire season was about Haru and Rin reconciling + the power of friendship, so of course their reconcilement would be the climax of the show. In addition, throughout the whole season Haru had such powerful emotions when it came to Rin, so it makes sense that their reconcilement scene would be one of the most, dare I say the most emotional scene in the show. That's not bias, that's just merely how it is.

[opting-for-oblivion]

A Matter of Jurisdiction

A lovely anon asked if I had anything to add regarding one of my recent tags, the gist of which was “In DMC, do you realize how much trouble Governor Swann’s letter would have caused (for the EITC) if it made it to England? Because Beckett did and he was not taking any chances.”

Because I am terrible at being succinct and because I love talking about this, I’m going to expand more generally on what I said in my tags on the post in question and approach some other questions about Lord Beckett’s authority later posed by the op of the original post. [Links to the relevant posts can be found in the replies, as Tumblr hates links.]

I will, fairly, preface this by saying that skimming Beckett’s PotC fandom Wiki does answer all of the questions regarding the EITC’s actions, and, to put the TL;DR at the beginning, that answer is often just “Lord Beckett had royal authority (and enough money) to do whatever he wanted.”

Nonetheless, if you’re curious how I’d nerd out over analyze the situation, please read on!

[A further note: I am not a historian, nor am I an expert on the alternate universe in which PotC is set. If I am, at any point, wrong, please let me know.]

While the main focus of the original PotC trilogy is the conflict between pirates (representing freedom) and the British Crown (representing, among other things, constraint, control, and exploitation), there exists within the British “side” a kind of internal conflict and this is what we see at play between Cutler Beckett and Weatherby Swann.

If you understand Beckett to be a merchant of sorts and the East India Trading Company to be just what it says on the tin -- a trading company -- then it might seem entirely out of order that Beckett invades Port Royal, crashes the governor’s daughter’s wedding, and disrespects (indeed, arrests) Swann the way he does. However, so far as legality goes, Beckett doesn’t cross as many lines as one would think (or, perhaps, the lines are not quite so clear). This is because Lord Beckett has the same royal authority that Governor Swann does and because the EITC is no mere trading company.

The EITC is a deeply politically invested entity. The Company operates with a royal charter, which means that it was granted certain rights by the monarchy. Specifically, the EITC has extensive military and administrative capabilities built into it. (I’ve even seen it referred to as part trade organization, part nation state.) When operating in the Indian Ocean and other areas outside of the jurisdiction of the British Crown, as it was originally intended to, the Company acts as an arm of British imperial power. This becomes a problem when the EITC attempts to exert said power where British Crown authority is already established, such as in the British Caribbean.

Swann is, of course, the king’s governor of Port Royal; his authority derives directly from the Crown as well. In fact, Weatherby Swann is said to be close friends with the king. However, the fact that Swann has personal ties to the aristocracy and Beckett does not doesn’t make their powers as unequal as one might think. The structures that each is part of are just about parallel.

The situation is not: Crown → Aristocracy → Merchants

But rather: Crown → Aristocracy & → EITC

While Beckett has been granted the title of lord by DMC, there is still a difference between those born into such a status and those who were not. (It’s sort of a big deal, especially for Beckett. His family had been wealthy merchants, but none of them had ever held a title.)

Because the two men have fairly equal standing in terms of pure authority, their being at odds become a tricky matter of jurisdiction. In other words, who has the right to exercise his power where? This question vexes both Swann and Beckett, and they’re both keenly aware of it from the moment they come face to face. Neither can claim absolute authority outright, but both have unique cards they can play to shift the situation in their favor.

A few scenes in DMC highlight the chess game that Swann and Beckett are playing, though I’m afraid it was never a game that Beckett intended to play fairly.

In the opening of DMC, the EITC invades Port Royal as Beckett arrives to arrest Elizabeth Swann, William Turner, and James Norrington. Some key things to understand here:

The invasion is not solely to make the arrests, but rather to establish Port Royal as the EITC’s new base. Beckett clearly has that intention (and royal approval for it) before showing up. That said, was invading the place entirely necessary? No, but it is a shock tactic. 

Some of the first things said to Lord Beckett are, by Governor Swann, “Lord or not, you have no reason and no authority to arrest this man.” and, by Elizabeth, “We are under the jurisdiction of the king’s governor of Port Royal and you will tell us what we are charged with.” The Swanns are obviously under the impression that Beckett is out of line, but he isn’t.

Regarding the arrests themselves, all of the warrants are legally valid. Elizabeth, Turner, and Norrington did, as the warrants say, conspire “to set free a man convicted of crimes against the Crown and Empire and condemned to death.” Beckett’s decision to use the prisoners rather than simply execute them is, on the other hand, entirely his own abuse of power.

Another important scene, of course, is when Governor Swann attempts to save Elizabeth by having her sent to England.

Swann’s lines in this scene very clearly show his particular type of power: that based on personal, aristocratic ties. For example, “Our name still has some standing with the king.” Even the captain he makes arrangements with is “a friend” -- the only kind of person Swann can trust given Beckett’s new authority in Port Royal. 

When Swann tells Elizabeth, “Perhaps I can ensure a fair trial for Will.” we especially see where his power ends. His authority in Port Royal, and regarding those who are not his family, is now weak. His best hope there is to enforce existing standards (i.e. a fair trial). 

The entire premise of Swann’s decision here is that he knows that he can’t contest the warrants. However, there is a possibility that he can leverage his ties with the aristocracy to get his daughter off the hook. That personal power is only certain to work in England, out of the reach of Lord Beckett’s power in the Caribbean. Swann is very smart to use his personal ties this way though anyone would have to admit that it’s not exactly legal. 

A line that was cut from the film reinforces all of the above (which is likely why it was cut): “There are still men loyal to me here, and Beckett is still wary of my ties to the Crown.” Swann, due to his position as governor and personal connections with the British aristocracy, has power that -- while not necessarily a threat -- could conceivably challenge Beckett’s actions. Lord Beckett knows this, but there isn’t anything he can do about it at this point in the film. 

Now, considering that (earlier) Swann openly discusses helping Elizabeth escape in front of one of the EITC soldiers when he visits her in prison, it’s no surprise that Beckett suspects something is amiss and sends Mercer to investigate. 

The scene in which Mercer kills Swann’s hired captain and arrests the governor is, perhaps, the most high-stakes political moment in DMC. Mercer not only catches Swann breaking the law, but he intercepts Swann’s letter to the king. When confronted, Swann knows that his gamble has gone horribly wrong.

Swann is arrested on the same grounds that his daughter was, conspiring to free a convicted criminal, which effectively strips him of his authority and, worse, puts him at Beckett’s mercy. More than that, his letter to the king is Beckett’s first real proof that Swann is a threat on a larger playing field. Before intercepting the letter, Beckett only had suspicions to go off of, and any move against someone you’re not sure is an enemy could create an enemy. With the escape attempt and the letter, Beckett has both legal and personal grounds to arrest the governor and, later, blackmail him.

While we never discover the exact contents of the letter, it’s likely that Swann wrote more than a plea for his daughter’s pardon. Elizabeth is his main concern, but it would be unlike Swann -- a man with an admirable moral center -- to not mention the way he feels about the EITC and Beckett’s conduct in Port Royal. If such a letter did reach the king, there is no way that the king could ignore it outright. There would be repercussions of some kind, and a royal inquiry into the EITC’s dealings at the very least. It’s important to remember that, while the Crown pays little attention to the EITC so long as it’s making money, the Crown very much can tell the EITC what to do if it sees fit -- which is the last thing Beckett wants. That said, I’m not certain if Swann’s letter would have meaningfully shut down the EITC in the Caribbean, and it almost certainly wouldn’t have gotten Beckett arrested. In any case, Beckett avoids the whole problem by ensuring that Swann’s concerns -- whatever they are -- never reach ears that are able to do anything. 

In the following scene, in which Elizabeth steals the letters of marque, it’s interesting to note that Beckett’s line about how “loyalty is no longer the currency of the realm” is both ironic and bold. The only reason it’s even remotely true is because Beckett makes it true. He is more than aware of the power that loyalty can have, and he goes out of his way to keep that power from being a threat. Loyalty is still very much a currency of the realm, but it isn’t of much use if there are no transactions being made (i.e. Swann’s letter never reaches the king).

A final scene in DMC that is worthy of note is that in which Lord Beckett blackmails Governor Swann.

The scene opens with Beckett saying, “There’s something to knowing the exact shape of the world and one’s place in it, don’t you agree?” This is, obviously, a thinly veiled threat -- a reminder to take note of one’s place in the current situation.

Beckett effectively threatens Elizabeth, who is currently a criminal among criminals and being hunted as such, and uses Swann’s concern for his daughter to force the governor to work for the EITC. 

Even here, we explicitly see the jurisdiction matter playing out. When Swann asks what Beckett wants in exchange for Elizabeth’s safety, Beckett is more than clear: “Your authority as governor, your influence in London, and your loyalty to the East India Trading Company.” Beckett uses this opportunity to appropriate the governor’s power. While Beckett now technically has the highest authority in Port Royal, he nonetheless ensures that his only possible competitor is working for him, bolstering his power rather than being able to challenge it. Like we see in every case, Beckett will not kill someone that can be more useful to him alive. 

We can also revisit the conflict between Beckett and Swann in the terms Beckett uses: currency versus loyalty. Again, the irony is immaculate. While Beckett’s every move is made on the premise that currency is more valuable than loyalty, he himself values loyalty enough to buy it -- the very thing he says Swann “hoped never to sell.”

If you’ve reached the end of this post, dear reader, I commend you. That said, there are a few caveats to consider. Namely, much of Beckett’s PotC Wiki seems to imply that he had the king’s support and, no conniving required, would have been able to exercise authority over Governor Swann. In that case, things like Swann’s letter are less important (beyond the matter of Elizabeth’s safety, of course). I’m assuming that much of what “actually” happened rests on the details of the EITC’s expansion into the Caribbean -- which Disney handwaved in the films for the most part and only later expanded on (somewhat) in things like the novelizations, which I have not yet read.

[earliebirb]

prompt: stevetony + accidental love confession during a fight? I'm loving your stevetony fics, thank you for sharing

Oh my God!!! The first prompt in my inbox and it’s from the lovely @ishipallthings !! What an honor. I have followed you for such a long time on Tumblr (at least on my other, messier blog, because this one hasn’t been around for a very long time) and to have you request a fic in my inbox is so surreal. Thank you so much for the prompt, I hope I didn’t disappoint you!

turning tides

steve/tony, hurt/comfort, getting together, 1783 words

When he wakes up, the first thing he sees is a mop of blond hair, the owner of which is seated in the visitor’s chair beside Tony’s bed, deep asleep with an arm pillowing his head.

Steve is back from his two-week-long, highly classified, solo mission. Tony missed him terribly. Steve is also still wearing his uniform, sans gloves and cowl, which is really weird. Surely he had time to change out of his uniform after the mission. What was the rush?

One of his hands is slipped into Tony’s. He obviously fell asleep with his hand holding Tony’s but his hold had loosened some time during his slumber. Tony resolutely ignores the way his heart flutters at the contact. 

Tony looks around the room. SHIELD medical, really? It isn’t like he is dying. At least, he doesn’t think he is. The last thing he remembers before this is the spinning sight of the workshop ceiling and the feeling of his forehead resting against the cool floor of the workshop. Then… nothing. 

Tony gazes at Steve, who has fallen asleep with his face tilted towards Tony, allowing Tony the rare privilege to indulge in his guilty pleasure of openly staring at Steve for as long as he wants to, getting his fill, at least until the guy wakes up. It’s probably a bit creepy, but sue him. He is in—

Tony pauses.

Fuck it. He has spent such a long time denying it to himself, it’s about time he admits it, at least in the safe and private confines of his mind.

He is in love.

There, he said it. Thought of it. Whatever. It doesn’t terrify him whatsoever. Not even a little bit.

Tony studies Steve’s eyelashes closely, gentle adoration blooming in his chest. He has the longest eyelashes Tony has ever seen, like beautiful blond waterfalls, casting dark shadows on his cheeks. Those coupled with Steve’s baby blues are absolutely a sight to behold, which probably explains why Tony has trouble breathing every time he has Steve’s full attention on himself. The thrill that runs through him every time Steve looks at him is addictive, has him turning greedy. He wants Steve’s attention on him and only him at all times. Tony tilts his head to admire the curve of Steve’s lips better, slightly ajar in his sleep. He can’t help but smile at the sight. Steve looks so peaceful and innocent when he sleeps. Tony feels like he could look at him forever and never get bored, always finding new details to marvel at without fail.

Tony reaches out to trace the straight line of Steve’s nose with his finger when Steve stirs. Tony withdraws his hand quickly, like a child just about to touch a boiling hot kettle before being reprimanded. 

Steve’s eyes blink open slowly, squinting as they attempt to adjust to the light shining just above the bed. Tony watches silently, waits for Steve to find his bearings.

When Steve’s eyes finally meet Tony’s, they widen with surprise when he realizes that Tony is awake.

“Tony,” Steve says with an exhale, standing up from his seat, “you’re awake.”

“I am,” Tony confirms. Steve has extricated his hand from Tony’s in the process and Tony pretends that he doesn’t feel suddenly bereft at the loss of warmth.

Steve stands there for a few moments, taking the sight of Tony in. Then, his back straightens. His eyebrows start to furrow, the corners of his mouth tugged down, the features of his face rearranging themselves into a scowl. 

Tony braces himself mentally. He knows what’s coming. 

Here we go again.

“I have told you, countless of times, that you need to take better care of yourself, Tony.” Steve’s jaw clenches, his voice heavy with disappointment.

“Steve,” Tony sighs, leaning back into his pillow as he closes his eyes, “can we not? I don’t have the energy to argue with you right now.”

Steve’s chin juts out stubbornly, inhaling deeply through his nose. Tony recognizes all the signs: Steve is not backing down.

Steve raises his eyebrows, leveling him with a glare. “Then muster some.”

Oh. Steve is angry angry.

First things first. “What happened?”

Tony has some inkling as to what might have happened, but it’s still good to know the details. 

“You passed out in the workshop out of exhaustion. Jarvis tripped the emergency alarm and the others brought you here. They told me just as my plane was landing,” Steve explains, his voice cold and clipped.

God, passing out due to exhaustion warrants a stay at SHIELD’s medical bay? What an overkill. Tony would like to stress again, that he is not dying. He just passed out from exhaustion and that can happen to anyone. Not everyone’s a supersoldier, Steve. Of course, since Tony values his life, he tries his best not to voice out his thoughts to Steve, who is still staring at Tony like he had insulted his mother.

“Alright. I’m fine now. I’m awake, see?” Tony gestures to himself with a smile. Steve’s expression remains stormy as ever.  

“You can’t keep doing this, Tony. When was the last time you ate anything? When was the last time you slept before you collapsed?”

The fact that Tony can’t seem to provide an answer for either of those questions is probably a bad sign.

“Why are you so dismissive of your own health? When are you going to learn to take proper care of yourself? God, it’s like you want to get sick,” Steve spits out, like the words had left a bad taste in his mouth, and that?

That has Tony’s hackles rising.

“Listen. I’m so fucking tired of you picking fights with me, telling me how to live my life? I don’t get why you���re so pissed off about everything I do all the fucking time. I can’t do anything right, can I? So I fainted, big deal. If Jarvis hadn’t tripped the alarm, I’m sure I would have come to eventually. I can just get some rest and then I’ll be fine. Why do you care so much? This had nothing to do with you. You weren’t the one who had to drag me to medical, anyway. Why are you so fucking worked up about it? I never asked for your concern, okay? I’m sorry if this event has inconvenienced you in some way.”

Steve drags in a sharp breath. His hands are curling into fists. His mouth is open and twisted in a way that suggests something like disbelief, his eyes turning red with tears. He lets out one long, shaky breath.

“And you think I asked for this?” Steve’s voice is breaking. Tony feels his heart plummet down to his stomach, panic rising in him. God, is Steve crying?  Whatever the fuck did he say that made him cry? Tony didn’t even say anything that was wrong.

Steve grits his teeth. God, that is definitely a tear rolling down his cheek. His eyes stay wide open, glaring daggers at him like he is trying to end Tony’s life with the force of his stare alone.

“I never asked to go insane with worry every time you get sick, or miss a couple meals in a row, or go without sleep for days on end, or get hurt doing something unbelievable reckless on the field.” Steve’s voice is trembling with barely restrained rage, rising in volume. Tony has never seen him so furious before.

“I’m sorry, okay, Tony? I’m sorry for caring about you. I’m so goddamn sorry for being in love with you but I don’t have a choice about that!” Steve roars, but near the end his voice breaks down into a sob, and, and—

What? 

Tony feels lightheaded. “...What?”

Steve is still standing there, tear tracks glistening on his cheeks, shoulders heaving up and down as he pants with exertion. He is still looking at Tony like Tony had personally ripped his heart into shreds, which—

Tony wasn’t even aware that he had Steve’s heart in his hands to begin with.

Tony swallows as he tries to wrap his head around this new, unbelievably absurd concept. Tony has always been in love with Steve. This is a fact. Not the other way around. Of course not.

Steve is not in love with Tony.

Tony looks at Steve, who is now frozen, eyes still locked on Tony.

Is he?

“…Steve?” Tony asks, whisper-soft, and he loathes the sliver of hope that slips into that one syllable.

Steve staggers back reflexively, like Tony’s utterance of his name has a force so powerful it knocks him backwards.  Then, he shakes his head, looking down at the floor.

Ah, okay. See? There is no way Steve is in love with him. Tony must have mishear—

“I’m sorry, Tony. This isn’t how I wanted you to find out. I mean— I knew that you must have… known, and you were just being nice about it, but… I never intended to bring it up. Please forget what I said,” Steve says to the floor, his voice sounding distant and polite and Tony absolutely hates it.

“I didn’t know,” Tony blurts out.

That makes Steve look up, tentative and unsure. “You… didn’t?”

“Not a clue.”

Steve pauses. He lets out a sigh as he closes his eyes, bowing his head once again. His long eyelashes are wet with tears, Tony notes.

“Well, now you know. I’m sorry.”

There is a pregnant pause in the room, neither of them knowing what to do with this revelation.

And then, after what feels like eternity:

“Steve?” Tony calls.

Steve looks up.

“Come here for a second?”

Steve shuffles on his feet hesitantly, his fight or flight instinct coming into play. He looks like he is weighing paradoxical options in a battle fought within: that getting physically close to Tony right now is simultaneously a viscerally compelling and undeniable need and also the last thing he wants to do. Eventually, however, because he is Steve and Steve will always, always be more lionhearted than Tony could ever hope to be, he approaches Tony with the air of a man accepting certain death. Once again, he finally finds himself back at Tony’s side.

Where he belongs, Tony thinks, and something unfurls deep in his chest.

Tony looks up at him, his hand reaching up to gently wipe away the tear stains on Steve’s cheek. Steve is still looking at him like he’s a ticking time bomb.

Tony gathers all of his courage and takes a deep breath, looking straight into Steve’s impossibly blue eyes.

He bites the bullet.

“Kiss me.”

When Steve’s lips meet his, it feels a lot like coming home.  

[svtxsoju]

02. morning glory fizz | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is! ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Joshua x baking major!OC, and more TBA!  ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, suggestions of sex, language  ღ Word Count: 4.9k words  ღ Binu’s Note: a week late but better late than never i guess 😌 i’ve been avoiding tumblr to finish writing this, but i just kept getting distracted by choi seungcheol. hit that mf like button if you relate. i’m so excited for the special album y’all the teasers and concepts are so sadkfklsj i love seventeen

anyway, i apologize not only for the late update, BUT ALSO bc this chapter is also a lot of exposition again 😔🥺 i promise i’m done setting it all up and that some real shit will go down in the next chapter!! hopefully people will still be able to enjoy this chapter huhuhu 😭💗 if you’re reading this, i love u and i hope u have a good weekend!! 

《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Disclaimer ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ 》

《 Previous ⊛ Next 》

Having already completed the first half of her college career, Joohyun was well aware of the value of sleep. And yet, like most college students, she could never  seem to manage a decent sleeping schedule. She had only slept 2 hours when her alarm went off at 5:30AM. She groggily rolled out of bed, mentally cursing her past self for thinking that this was a good idea when clearly, the best idea at the moment was to snuggle back up under her covers and sleep in until afternoon. Only one of her eyes seemed capable of staying open as she pulled on her clothes and got ready for the day. When she suddenly heard the front door close behind her roommate, she cursed out loud, throwing her laptop into her bag before she rushed out the door. She half-wobbled, half-hopped along the second-story walkway while she tried to get her shoes all the way on.

“Bok Bongseon! Wait for me!” Joohyun called out in an aggressive whisper.

“HOLY SHIT! You scared me, Joo!” her roommate, a shorter girl with full cheeks and pouty lips, screamed at full volume. She clutched at her racing heart and leaned against the wall while she caught her breath. 

“Shut up, people are still sleeping!” Joohyun linked arms with Bongseon and dragged her down the steps leading to the street. It was still dark outside, but she could already hear the faint bustling of the mart located below their apartment. It was nice to know that they weren’t the only two people in Seoul insane enough to be awake at this hour. 

“I thought you were the ghost of my grandma, you bitch! You know she visits me in my dreams to tell me how disappointed she that I’m a baker,” Bongseon said indignantly, though she still cuddled closer to Joohyun when they were hit by the morning chill. Once they reached the street, they both headed towards the train station without having to say a word.  “What are you even doing up?” 

“I am simply accompanying my favorite roommate to work to make sure that she gets there safely,” Joohyun crooned sweetly, and made kissy faces at the girl, who in turn pinched Joohyun’s lips between her calloused fingers. She tried to protest but could only let out pained whines until she was mercifully released. “Ow!” 

“Sorry but I cannot fulfill your roommates to lovers, 12k slowburn fantasy,” Bongseon continued on nonchalantly as they climbed down the steps to the platform. “You had your chance, but I am a taken girl!”

“Oh, so you and Josh are together today?” Joohyun teased. Although it probably wasn’t the best idea, considering her lips were slightly throbbing from the girl’s attack. “I’ll just wait until tomorrow then.” 

“Wow, bold words coming from Miss Fish Lips.” Bongseon raised an eyebrow and smiled tauntingly. “Understandable, considering  that that was probably the most action your lips have gotten in your entire life. I could probably set it up on a blind date with my fist, if you’d like.” 

Joohyun’s laughter echoed off the walls of the mostly empty station, startling the only other person waiting for the morning train (an old woman, who was still half-asleep prior to being rudely awakened by two very loud girls). Bongseon often made some colorful threats, morning or not, but Joohyun was one of the very few people who could be assured that her words were empty. “Don’t you know that it’s rude to stare, lady?” she barked at the old woman, who was openly glaring at them. Everyone else, on the other hand, was subject to Bongseon’s sharp temper.

This even included her boyfriend of approximately 4 years. ‘Approximately’ being the key word, because the two often took breaks--  a natural phenomenon when one partner was easily provoked and the other loved to do the provoking. Jihoon had told Joohyun that the two had met at the cafe in their freshman year, when Bongseon came in as a part-time baker and Joshua was merely a barista trainee. They started dating within a month and moved into an apartment together in two. That went just as well as anyone would expect. By the grace of whatever entity that was chaotic enough to keep their relationship intact, they made it 7 months before nearly breaking things off for good. As luck would have it though, a new hire and his roommate were in the same exact predicament as them. Kind of. 

Joohyun shuddered to recall her freshman year when she and Jihoon somehow convinced themselves that it was a good idea to share an apartment. In principle it made sense; they had lived across the street from each other since they were in diapers. Two exhausting months into trying to irritate the other into breaking the lease first, they met Bongseon and Joshua when Jihoon started working at Smile Flower. It didn’t take long for Joohyun to suggest the switch— she would move in with Bongseon and Joshua with Woozi. Just like that, she saved both Bongseon and Joshua’s turbulent romance (temporarily) and her and Woozi’s fractured friendship (now thriving). 

She and Bongseon have been roommates ever since, and Joohyun knew her life was a little easier for it. 

“Joohyun, you better stop looking at me with those heart eyes before I really act up,” Bongseon warned. They had boarded the train, but hadn’t bothered to sit down since Mansae University station was only two stops away. 

“But I just love you so much,” Joohyun pouted, affectionately resting her head on her friend’s shoulder. “What does Joshua have that I don’t?” 

“A dick. And that’s about it.” 

“Damn you, heterosexuality!” 

Bongseon snorted out a laugh. “Seriously Joo, how are you awake right now? You’re only ever this lovey-dovey when you’re severely sleep deprived. I know you don’t have classes until 3PM today. You also don’t have your internship today,” Bongseon narrowed her eyes when Joohyun visibly tensed up at the mention of her current occupation. “Also, since when do you watch Youtube videos until 2am? And don’t think I didn’t notice that all of them were titled ‘Relationship Q&A’s’ and ‘I confessed to my crush and he said this!!!’. Got something to tell me, missy?” 

It was so quiet on the train that Joohyun worried that Bongseon could hear all the wires in her brain short-circuit. With Bongseon’s cross-examination skills, it was a wonder why she pursued baking instead of joining her family’s firm. Come on, Joohyun, just tell a white lie. Easy, simple. Don’t need to overcomplicate things. “Oh, uh I— um— well, I j-just thought they were entertaining?” She was done for. 

“Right. You thought random couples self-indulgently talking about their love lifes for 40 minutes with default iMovies effects were entertaining.”  

“Y-yes?” Joohyun threw in her most convincing smile for good measure, but it did nothing to soften Bongseon’s hard gaze. “It’s my new guilty pleasure, haha!”  

“Hm, interesting,” Bongseon was momentarily interrupted by the sound of the arrival bell. Joohyun eagerly pulled her friend towards the exit, hoping that the distance from the train could also get her further away from the topic. Unfortunately for her, Bongseon did not plan on dropping it so soon. “You sure you don’t want to tell me anything, Joo? About your internship?” 

Joohyun began to sweat. Was she really that transparent? “Okay, don’t get mad--”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m super jazzed that you’re getting into relationships and everything, but really Joo? Youtube? You could just talk to me if you need help talking to your new crush at your job!” 

“Oh.” Joohyun would have let out a sigh of relief if she wasn’t out of breath from climbing the mountain of stairs up to the sidewalk. “Right. Confessing. To my crush. That I definitely have.”

“It’s okay to admit you have one, Joo. I’m no  stranger to workplace romance,” Bongseon said, her breathing completely even. A measly flight of stairs was nothing compared to eight hours of kneading dough. “Who’s the lucky bastard, Joo?” 

“Well, I’m not sure I would call it a workplace romance, per se…” Joohyun laughed nervously. There was no way she could stick another clean landing if she kept talking. 

“Shut up, I bet that guy is in love with you already. Who wouldn’t fall for the only editing intern at The Front?” 

“Haha, I don’t know…” Probably no one, because the only editing intern at The Front doesn’t exist? 

Joohyun could not be more relieved to see the small store front of Smile Flower Cafe. It was one amongst the many cafes located near campus, but Joohyun felt like nothing really matched its comforting home-like ambience. But that probably had less to do with the soft wooden floors and pastel ceramic mugs, and more owed to the three years Joohyun had spent hanging around there, usually bothering Jihoon and joking around with Josh. 

The two boys already stood waiting at the cafe’s entrance, too bleary-eyed to notice Joohyun and Bongseon quickly approaching. “Hey, ugly!” Joohyun called out, snickering when both of them turned to look at her. 

“What the hell, why are you awake?” 

“Good morning to you too, Jihoon,” she answered, blowing him a kiss. “I’m actually here to see you, believe it or not. Don’t you feel special?”

“Oh? That’s interesting, because you told me that you came here for me,” Bongseon broke away from exchanging actual kisses with Joshua to look between Joohyun and Jihoon in a way that Joohyun did not like too much.  “I guess it wasn’t a workplace romance after all.” 

Joshua mirrored his girlfriend’s implicating expression as he unlocked the front door, simply because he knew it made his friends squirm. “Wow Joohyun, you woke up this early just to talk to Jihoon? You really couldn’t wait to see him, huh?” 

“Uh, yes because I need his help—”

“Ah, his help, gotcha! Come on, Bongseon, I’ll go help you in the kitchen while these two help each other out here,” Joshua snickered. Before Joohyun or Jihoon could roast the couple in retaliation, they had already disappeared behind the counter. 

After years of similar taunts, all Jihoon could do was shake his head. “Okay Joo, what is so important that you need my help at 6 in the morning?”

“I wrote my first response last night!” Joohyun whispered excitedly, taking out her laptop from her bag. “Well, a few hours ago. I wanted to show you before continuing on with the rest! Here, look.” 

① Dear Miss Soju, 

I just started my first year at MU and she’s an exchange student from New York. We met at a party and talked for two hours about comics, aliens, anything we could think of. It was perfect. She even asked me to walk her home. When the time came for me to make a move though, I kind of dropped the ball. Since we had just met that night, I didn’t want to come off too strong. Now I really regret it - I don’t even have her phone number. I feel like such an idiot! I can’t stop thinking about her, but I don’t even know if I’ll ever talk to her again. Did I make myself seem disinterested? Will we meet again? Will she even remember me?

Sincerely,

Big Cringy Idiot

She let Jihoon read the asker’s message first, then scrolled down to show her answer.

Dear Big Cringy Idiot,

You and your crush seem to have a lot in common. There is nothing wrong with being nervous around someone you like. In fact, it is fairly normal and is a good sign that you like this girl very much. She also seems open to any future possiblities, since she did ask you to take her home. You need not worry about coming off too strong in this situation, although I do admire your dedication to respecting women’s boundaries. I hope you are able to find this girl again so that you can truly tell her how you feel. Best of luck to you!

Sincerely,

Miss Soju

“Joo, that was…” 

“Poetic, beautiful, life-changing?” Joohyun grinned, and nudged her best friend with each suggestion.

“Boring. It was boring.” Joohyun’s face fell, and Jihoon could only offer the girl an apologetic smile. “Dude, you’re gonna put people to sleep if you keep it up like this. I almost took out a pillow to take a nap on the floor.”

“But this is how I write my articles— Informative and concise! How else am I supposed to write it?”

“I mean, that’s great for reporting articles, but this is an advice column. It’s supposed to be fun, sarcastic maybe. Like your promo piece! That was good.” 

“I wrote that as a joke, hoping they would fire me for it,” Joohyun admitted, eyes wide in panic as she looked at her best friend. 

“Huh. Well, I think it would sound better than this Wikipedia article you got going on,” Jihoon shrugged. “Try to be fun!”

“I am fun!” Joohyun cried out defensively, her nostrils flaring with passion. When Jihoon responded with a doubtful look, she let out a dramatic gasp and snatched up her laptop, stomping over to her favorite corner in the cafe. “I can be fun! I’ll show you fun!” 

 “Atta girl,” Jihoon’s signature cackle filled the cafe, further fueling the girl’s aggressive typing. 

Just another morning in the life of So Joohyun.

To the surprise of the cafe’s current occupants, a student already tapped at the glass entrance, clearly in desperate need of his morning americano. He had walked all the way from the freshman dorms after a restless night of tossing and turning. When his phone screen told him it was already 6:05AM, he decided to just give up on sleep altogether. So there he was, trying to start off his day right, at Smile Flower Cafe, only to be stopped at the door by the grumpy barista with the red hair. He always felt like the other one was way nicer, especially since he would go out of his way to sneak him free cookie samples and made pleasant small talk while ringing him up (what was his name? Jonathan?). 

  All the red-haired barista ever did was scowl at him when he asked for a student discount. Now, he scowled at him as he gestured at the sign that indicated that the cafe would not be open until 7AM. The fatigued freshman had half a mind to make some choice gestures of his own, but he refrained and just whipped out his phone instead. He gave the mean barista one last pout before turning around and walking towards the 24-hour convenience store on campus.

➠ [ to: vernonie 😌😎  ] Good morning king. Are you still on your shift ?

➠ [ from: vernonie 😌😎  ] gm seungkwan pls k*ll me 

Seungkwan took that as a yes. It didn’t take long for him to arrive, the entrance bell ringing lightly when he stepped into the small store. At the register sat his roommate, who was clearly fighting to keep his eyes open. “Wol-cuh ‘n—” he tried to greet through a wide-mouthed yawn. “Excuse me, welcome in! Oh, hey Seungkwan.”

Seungkwan answered with a grunt and headed straight for the refrigerated coffee section, choosing the largest can.

“Uh dude, you good? You look like—”

“Like I haven’t slept all night? I am aware,” He immediately opened his coffee and took a long gulp of the beverage in hopes of feeling even a little better. When it did nothing after 30 seconds, he frowned at the concerned cashier. “Vernon, I will not be paying for this drink, because it is clearly defective. Coffee is supposed to fix everything.” 

“Is this about your audition today?” Vernon asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Your monologue sounded really solid last night though. Your audition songs were great too. You totally got this in the bag!” 

“It’s not just about the audition, sweet Vernon,” Seungkwan sighed. “It’s about who I’m going to see at the audition. I still don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do.”

“Oh yeah, you are probably going to see them later.” For the past week, all Seungkwan could talk about was the theater tech sophomore that he had met at the theater department’s welcome party. They had sat beside Seungkwan and had helped him through all the fast-paced drinking games, and even took some of his shots when he kept losing. Surely, this was what love felt like.

That was what Seungkwan hoped anyway, because whatever it was made him feel all warm and tingly inside (or it could have just been the alcohol). Nevertheless, he had made big plans to confess to his crush as soon as possible. His dilemma for the past several days was merely a matter of how it would be done. “Not probably! I know for a fact that they will be there, because they told me that they couldn’t wait to see me,” Seungkwan let out a wail and slumped over the counter. “They’re the sweetest, most beautiful person to ever walk the earth and I just want to tell them that I would actually jump off a bridge for them. Why is that so difficult?” 

Vernon nodded sympathetically as he always did. “I mean, if you’re not ready today, maybe you could wait?”

“Wait?! No offense babe, but last time I checked, waiting didn’t get you anywhere,” Seungkwan said,  patting his roommate’s arm. Vernon cringed as he was forced to remember his own romantic blunder from the past week. “Clearly, we are both in major need of help. That Woozi guy’s show didn’t do anything for us! Also, we still haven’t heard from that Miss Soju character and it’s been what? Two days? If she’s such an expert, she would know that love is time sensitive!” 

“Ugh, I know. I keep refreshing The Front’s website just to see if she’s posted it yet.” Vernon sighed forlornly, which was a common punctuation to his sentences lately. “It’s getting me really antsy. What if she doesn’t even choose to answer our emails this time?” 

Seungkwan quickly covered the other freshman’s mouth. “Don’t say that! The universe manifests what we say will happen. We should ask for divine intervention instead.” He cleared his throat in preparation and threw his hands up to the sky. “O Eros, god of love, please shine your blessings down upon my and Vernonie’s love lives for we are but two humble, clueless freshmen in need of romantic guidance. Send down two of your swiftest, sharpest arrows, so that those that we desire may hear your soft whispers—”

Ding. The sound of the entrance bell rang once more, stopping Seungkwan’s prayer short, much to his irritation. “Is this a bad time?” the new customer, an ethereally handsome blonde, asked amusedly. He strode into the store and grabbed two spicy tuna triangle kimbab’s before approaching the counter. 

“Jeonghan hyung!” 

“Ah, Vernon!” Jeonghan smiled. “I didn’t know you worked here. You should come by my and Cheol’s apartment again soon, that was fun!”

“Hyung, this is my roommate that I told you about-- Seungkwan. And Seungkwan, this is Seungcheol hyung’s roommate,” Vernon said all while ringing up Jeonghan’s food. On the side, Seungkwan bowed sheepishly after unfreezing from his previous pose. “How’s your morning going? You wake up pretty early!” 

Jeonghan laughed heartily, shaking his head. “Oh no, I just finished an all-night stream. I just came by to get a snack before heading to bed. Seems like you two have been having a fun morning, though. Do you two always start your day off by praying to the ancient Greek god of desire?” 

Seungkwan flushed a deep pink. “Uh no, it was more like a cry of desperation. Vernon and I are having a pretty tough time confessing to our crushes, so I figured we should just try out anything that might help us. Nothing else seems to be working…” 

“Wait, that’s so cute,” Jeonghan cooed. 

“Would you be able to give us some advice, hyung?” Vernon asked. He didn’t know anything about the senior’s love life, but he did give off the vibe of someone who would know… a lot. 

Jeonghan’s eyes twinkled dangerously, a lazy smirk on his lips. “I mean, I could go talk to your little crushes for you, if you’d like. I’m sure I could get some sort of response out of them.”

One look at Jeonghan had Vernon and Seungkwan shaking their heads vehemently.

“No, we’re good.”

“Yeah, no thanks.” 

“Mm, good call.” Jeonghan took his food from the counter, and winked at the two boys. “I really wish I could help you both more, but I’m sure you’ll get what you’re waiting for soon! Today, if you want it enough.” 

There was something in the way that the senior stated those words that made Seungkwan believe him without a question. It wasn’t a naive suggestion or an optimistic prediction; Jeonghan spoke like it was the truth plainly written on the walls. He finally felt a long-awaited wave exhaustion wash over his anxieties, softening them until they fizzled away alongside the ebbing foam. All that was left behind were grains of sand. Suddenly, Seungkwan yawned,  and he wanted nothing more than to curl up in his twin bed at the dorms. 

“Well, I should be heading off to bed! Looks like you should be too, Seungkwan,” Jeonghan said, suppressing his own yawn. The freshman nodded in agreement. He definitely needed to rest up— this was going to be a big day, after all. 

“Say hi to Cheol hyung for me when you get home!” Vernon said. 

Jeonghan hummed thoughtfully as he made his way back to the entrance of the store. “I will if he’s there! He didn’t come home last night.” He turned to leave the boys with one last sleepy smile, seeming to laugh at something only he knew. 

“At least one of us is doing something right.” 

“Jihoon, why can’t I get this right?” 

“I’m sorry! This just sounds nothing like you,” Jihoon shrugged. It had been a rather busy morning, but things slowed down as it approached noon, giving him the chance to look at Joohyun’s fourth draft of responses.  “I’ve never heard you say stuff like ‘rad’ or ‘hella’... Like are you aware that you sound like a skater from the late 90’s?” 

“That’s because the reference I’ve been using is from 1997!” Joohyun huffed in frustration. She was already backspacing albeit with a little more force than necessary. “I wasn’t even born in ‘97!” 

“Exactly, so stop trying to write like that. What if you tried to—” 

“Eat my ass, Hong!” The sound of the kitchen door slamming open interrupted Jihoon’s (probably unhelpful) suggestion, and the two best friends watched as Bongseon stormed out of the cafe in a familiar rage. Luckily, there were no customers to witness it this time. 

Instinctively, they looked to the kitchen door, where Joshua stood with a resigned smile on his full lips. “Oops,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck apologetically. “Guess it was too soon to joke about our last break. Sorry about that, Jihoon. I’ll try to call in the head baker early to finish up the rest of the pastries for today.” 

He walked over to where they sat and plopped himself across from Joohyun. She offered Joshua a look of sympathy, but he responded by twisting his face up in a dumb expression, reassuring her that he was just fine. Still,  she couldn’t help feeling worried for both of her friends. No matter how many times Bongseon and Joshua broke it off and no matter how much Joohyun joked about it, she knew that their strong feelings for each other meant that it hurt a little every time they got into a fight. At least, that’s what she gathered from the various nights she spent soothing Bongseon while the girl cried into a toilet bowl, soju bottle still in hand. 

“It’s okay, Josh, you probably don’t have to worry too much. Knowing her, she’ll probably be back in 30 minutes to make up with you and then Jihoon will have to find someone to take over your shift,” Joohyun piped up. “But please take it back to your apartment this time, because I don’t make enough money to have every surface of my apartment sanitized again.” 

Joshua let out an easy laugh, as though he were not a man in deep shit. “Thank you, Joo. You always know what to say to make me feel better,” he sighed. “I should probably go after her. I’ll be back soon, Jihoon!” 

She waited for him to disappear out the door before turning to her best friend. “Wow, that’s gotta be a new record for them, right? I didn’t even know they got back together until this morning.” Joohyun was surprised to find that Jihoon had been silently staring at her for a good minute now. “...Why are you looking at me?” 

“What you said to Joshua,” Jihoon simply replied. 

“Oh, I was only joking about the sanitation thing. I just walked in on them once in the kitchen—“

“No I mean, how you said it. Maybe that’s how you should be writing your responses.” Jihoon grinned, watching as Joohyun gave him that look again, the one where she looks at him like he’s speaking from a third head. But he knew that this was going to be another Jihoon Genius moment, which seemed to be happening more frequently lately, much to his satisfaction. “Like you’re talking to one of your friends. I mean, it made Josh feel better, right?”

Joohyun’s eyebrows scrunched together and she mulled the idea over. Without another word to Jihoon, she began to slowly type on her laptop, gradually tapping faster and faster as she gained momentum. Her best friend giddily returned to his place behind the counter to tend to the customers that just walked in. He knew that once she got into a groove, there was no hope of stopping her. 

An hour later, Joohyun finally pushed away her laptop and waited for Jihoon to finish wiping down a table before calling him over. For some reason, she was anxious to show him the final product and even when he already sat besie her, she hesitated for a beat. Usually, her writing was professional and objective, always ending with a declarative period. She had spent years perfecting her reporting style so that when she presented the facts, that’s all they were. This, however, felt personal, like it was a part of her. And even though Jihoon probably knew her even better than herself sometimes, there was something so vulnerable about showing someone a side of her that she had only just discovered. 

And yet, she was curious to know— desperate to know: was it any good? 

“Well?” Joohyun watched for Jihoon’s reaction closely, both impatient and terrified to hear his thoughts. 

“Joohyun, this...” Jihoon started slowly. She braced for impact. “This is it. I think you’ve found Miss Soju’s voice.”

She exhaled. “R-really?”

“Yes, really. You answered the questions so thoughtfully, so you know it’s not just some generic bullshit you found on the internet. Plus, it was fun to read, like I think I’d read this even if I didn’t send a letter in,” Jihoon gushed, all while skimming over the words again. He turned to smile brightly at her, reminding Joohyun of a much younger Jihoon back in their elementary school days. “Most importantly though, it’s so you.”

Joohyun returned the smile, just as brightly. Warmth bloomed in her chest and across her cheeks. “Thanks, Jihoon, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Honestly, me neither,” Jihoon laughed.

“Um, can I ask you one more thing though?” Joohyun scrolled down to the last two entries, both of which asked for advice on how to make things official with a guy they’ve been talking to. The two letters were extremely similar in detail, but had been sent from two different emails and two different signatures. At first, she thought that maybe her judgement was muddled by her lack of sleep, and as the day went on, she figured her inability to recognize any nuance between the two letters was thanks her lack of experience. 

There was just something about the way they had described the boy. She knew that  intelligent, funny, kind-hearted, and unbelievably handsome were pretty generic adjectives. But what were the odds for both letters to also mention his infectious laugh and deep, dark eyes? “Do you think these two are from the same person? I’m trying to go for a confession theme for this article, so I included them both, but I’m afraid they’re too similar.” 

Jihoon read them over a couple of times, then shrugged. “They do sound pretty similar, but a lot of people go through that sort of thing. Also, so many people describe their crushes like that, but let’s be real, most of them end up being fuckboys. So trust me, both those people probably need your help. I mean, what’s the harm in publishing both, right?” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Joohyun bit her lip, needing every ounce of reassurance she could get from her best friend. She read over her writing once, twice, thrice more. This was it. No more edits and no more excuses. Her finger hovered over the mousepad. “Okay, I”m going to send it in for approval now. Jihoon, you are about to witness me publish my first article for The Front.” 

Joohyun took a deep breath and clicked. Finally.

[mr-entj]

PSA: For those whose internships, job searches, or careers were impacted by Covid-19

tl;dr: I’m making my career coaching, academic mentoring, and resume/CV review services openly available to my followers for a limited time via Tumblr messenger, Skype voice chat, or Zoom voice chat. If this interests you, read on. If this does not apply to you, skip this. 

I’ve received a huge influx of 50+ career-related and internship-related questions in my inbox that may or may not be related to Covid-19 and the global economic downturn. These include, but are not limited to:

Any advice for recent graduates who have had their search for a full-time job upended by covid-19 and the ensuing economic crash? I was recruiting for off-cycle roles in front office finance and I've had final round interviews be delayed indefinitely, job openings cancelled, and new job postings have slowed to essentially nothing. Beyond that, regret for past decisions to not take return offers has felt pretty paralyzing -- how do I get back into the right mindset?

Any advice for what seems to be a upcoming recession?

Hello INTJ here, currently studying psychology but figured it hasn't been the best opportunity for me yet. I was in love with med but never really approached it and kind of are into arts, bussiness and marketing approach right now but i feel kind of lost, and i read your prev ask about making impact which is something i know i would love to do so, do you mind helping me out on how to narrow it down to something or question more on where to focus for career choices on a more profound level?

Hey Mr. ENTJ. My internship was cancelled due to covid-19 and I’m panicking. How to replace the internship when it’s late in the process at this point?

Advice on how to get a job in this messy pandemic environment? For us college graduates entering what seems to be a recession, do you have any specific tips on being more successful in job hunting? Thank you again

Etc.

I won’t respond to all of these because they each have unique circumstances that require individualized attention, additional context, and an actual conversation that a Tumblr inbox can’t provide. I realize the urgency and time sensitivity given people’s academic timelines and financial situations so here’s what I can do for you: 

If your internships, job searches, or careers have been negatively impacted by Covid-19, I am offering to review your resume/CV/college essays/scholarship essays and provide personalized career/academic advice + interview preparation free of charge. 

A bit about me: Corporate strategy and global operations for a Fortune 500 Silicon Valley tech company, former Big 4 management consultant (x2), and graduate of two top-20 universities in America. I have 12+ years of experience with academic mentoring and 8+ years of experience with career coaching. My mentees have successfully been admitted into top universities like Harvard, Yale, Columbia, UCLA, USC, and INSEAD or placed into top companies like Google, Facebook, Sony, Disney, McKinsey, Bain, Deloitte, PwC, KPMG, etc. I also like puppies, ice cream, and long walks on the beach.

If you’re interested, message me privately on Tumblr with specifically what you need and we can start the conversation to see if I can help. If we need to exchange documents, I’ll give you my email address. If we need to schedule a 30-minute call on Zoom or Skype (voice chat only), I’ll find time on my calendar and give you my Zoom link or my Skype username. People in Europe and Asia, we’ll figure out the time zones.

Please note this offer isn’t open to anyone under 18 and it’s not an offer for mental health/mental counseling services. It ends April 30th.

Thanks, and take care of yourselves.

[chaos-and-recover]

I am not trying to be rude but I actually know more than you do, as someone who works in the industry. Being on tumblr had given you the impression that everyone is a progressive slash shipping fangirl. The CW cares about fangirls just enough for fan service but when it comes to Nielson ratings they care about 18 - 40 year old white men and the old cishet white men who run the network itself. It is a business and they hold the cards. Am I saying that there is a secret deleted scene with a kiss? No. There is no secret episode or deleted makeout scene. (Although yes there was obviously an original script for 19 and 20 that they massively changed because of covid. I think they should have waited because those episodes were really bad but I digress.) What I am saying is several cast members and several episode writers put in subtext on purpose. It is called queer coding. And somewhere along the way, there must have been an audio somewhere of Dean saying I love you too OR a simple me too. Given that the episode was finished filming months and months ago, it was probably sent out then. Jensen was called in for ADR in the fall for 18 specifically. Changes were made. He even admitted they edited his reaction and dialogue. Those are his words. This isnt a conspiracy, it is a fact. The dub itself exists. It would not exist unless there was audio somewhere. In America they could say "oh it was meant as friendship or like brothers" and they could say "oh it is open for interpretation" to anyone who doesn't approve. In Spanish there are different ways of saying "I love you" and "me too" that mean separate things. Somewhere along the way something changed. That is a fact. It would not exist in the spanish dub otherwise. And yes, changes are often made that we, in other countries, dont get for whatever reason. If you want my opinion Dean likely said "me too" or to that affect after Cas left, while he was crying on the floor. They then ADR him crying over it instead. This would explain the weird bird chirping sound in Portugese dubs. In America, it is very homophobic right now. In Mexico, destiel was more openly embraced and even advertised. It is very likely that since Castiel canonically romantically loved Dean in a "gay" way, which the network promoted, which is why they used te amo (romantic), even a simple "me too" from Dean even if it was presented ambiguously would be assumed to be romantic there, where in America it could be platonic. After months of the finished episode sitting in the CW desk, after they realized they were going to have to rewrite 19 and 20, and that Cas would NOT be in the episode because of covid, they made the decision to edit out the "me too" part for coherency going into the last two episodes.

I mean I’m a whole ass adult who doesn’t form their worldview based on Tumblr but sure, tell me what I know. The major networks gear their shows toward 18-40 year old men and that’s why you never saw a gay character on Big Bang Theory or whatever but the CW is literally a teen network, that’s not their demo, that’s not who they’re going for and that’s not who they anticipate is gonna watch Walker.

I’ll concede you know more about the dubbing process if that’s what you do for a living, sure, but I still think you’re wrong, I don’t believe the CW was ever going to make Destiel canon in any market. I think that’s wishful thinking. They had 12 years or whatever it is to do that and didn’t, it would have been fan service to throw it into the last 3 episodes any way they did it.

The conspiracy isn’t even consistent, there’s one arm insisting Misha was in Vancouver at the time 15x19 and 15x20 were shot, he confirmed it but said he was “going camping” or whatever but now they had to cut him out because he wasn’t there for filming? I’m not buying it I’m sorry.

You will not convince me there was some grand conspiracy to cover up canon Destiel that just happened to miss the Spanish dub, do you not hear how ludicrous that sounds...

[isidar-mithrim]

Letters from Hogwarts – Remus

For more than a thousand years, every summer, in the United Kingdom, the lives of a lucky cluster of eleven years old are radically changed.

These are the stories of four of them.

The third tells us of a child whose life had already changed when he was five years old, and who didn’t believe it could change again.

{Third installment of the “Letter from Hogwarts” series, but it stands alone}

{Thanks so much to @siderumincaelo for betaing!!}

{Letters from Hogwarts on Ao3: Neville; Gus; Remus – On Tumblr: Neville; Gus}

{‘Letters from Hogwarts’ on tumblr: Neville, Gus and Hermione; on Ao3: Neville, Gus, Remus and Hermione}

__________________________________

“Lyall educated Remus at home, certain that he would never be able to set foot in school.

Shortly before Remus’s eleventh birthday, no less a person than Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, arrived uninvited on the Lupins’ doorstep. Flustered and frightened, Lyall and Hope tried to block his entrance, but somehow, five minutes later, Dumbledore was sitting at the fireside, eating crumpets and playing Gobstones with Remus.”

{Remus Lupin, Pottermore/Wizarding World}

___________________________________

Of boggarts, Gobstones and cypress

Saturday 6th of March 6th, 1971

“So, do you remember what we said about boggarts?”

“The boggart is a shape-shifting creature that assumes the form of whatever frightens us the most, and it lives in confined spaces, like cupboards. To defeat it, we have to think of a funny form and then use a spell to make it assume that form, because if we’re able to laugh out loud, it’ll disappear.”

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” said his father with a warm smile.

In other circumstances the praise would have made Remus beam with pride, but not this time. He swallowed and lowered his gaze, pretending to focus on the book pages.

“Hey.”

Remus kept his eyes down, but from Dad’s concerned tone he could tell he hadn’t fooled him.

“You can talk to me about everything, you know that, right?”

Nodding curtly, Remus turned the page and moved his gaze along the lines without actually reading.

His ruse went on for several pages before his dad drew a heavy sigh.

“Son,” he said softly. “Is everything okay?”

Remus raised his head, meeting his dad’s worried expression, and lightly shook his head. He swallowed, gathering up the courage to bring up the topic he had dwelled on for days. “What’s the thing that scares you the most?”

Dad closed his eyes and pinched his nose, taking a deep breath. “That something bad will happen to you or your mum.”

Something as bad as your son being bitten by a werewolf, thought Remus with a pang of guilt.

“And... that it’ll happen because of me.”

Not knowing what to say, Remus let silence fall, his gaze low.

It was Dad to break it, clearing his throat. “What about you? Do you know what’s your worst fear?”

Remus nodded, but stayed quiet for a bit. Even the mere thought made his heart clench, so he wasn’t sure he could admit it out loud.

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.”

For a fleeting moment, Remus was tempted to take the offer, but then Dad squeezed his arm reassuringly, and Remus couldn’t hold back anymore.

“To never have friends,” he murmured. “But... I don’t know how to make it funny.”

Dad pushed Remus’s chin up with a finger and locked their gazes. “One day we’ll find a place where we can settle for a long time, and then I’m sure you’ll find amazing friends.” His tone was soothing, but his eyes were sad, and Remus could tell Dad didn’t truly believe that day would ever come. “Now, do you remember the incantation to change the boggart’s shape?”

“Riddikulus?”

“Excellent,” praised his dad, but Remus still couldn’t rejoice.

“When will I be able to try it? When can I cast some real spells?”

Dad looked wary. “It’s still early.”

“But… it’s my eleventh birthday in four days. And I know that I can’t go to Hogwarts, but I’ll need a wand even if I’ll study at home, and I was hoping…”

He trailed off, uncertain, but Dad gave him a nod, inviting him to continue, so Remus cleared his throat, hoping to sound casual and unaffected.

“I was hoping I could ask for one as a birthday present.”

“Remus…” Dad took a deep breath. “You know that children are not allowed to do magic outside Hogwarts.”

Of course Remus knew that, but there was something else he yearned to understand. He twisted his fingers together, so hard that it almost hurt. “What about kids that don’t go to Hogwarts?”

“Well, their parents have to ask for official permission...”

“You can ask, then!” exclaimed Remus with renewed enthusiasm.

Dad’s expression remained grim, though, and Remus’s stomach plummeted. “But it would put us on the Ministry radar, and we can’t risk that.” He swallowed. “What’s the next topic?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and his eyes dry.

Only a couple of hours had passed when a cheerful, unexpected jingle diverted their attention from poltergeists.

Dad stood up and threw him a wary glance before walking towards the door. Remus hadn’t missed Dad’s worry, so he followed him with quiet steps, lurking beside the cupboard in the hallway to peer.

“It’s got to be a wizard,” whispered Mum, an eye glued to the peephole. “He’s wearing purple robes.”

She moved aside to give Dad space, and he peered through the spyhole as well.

“Dumbledore!” he exclaimed, aghast, and Remus’s heart thundered in his chest.

“In the flesh,” said an amused voice from behind the door. “I hoped we could have a chat.”

“About what?” asked Dad sharply, a trace of fear in his voice. He clenched a hand around his wand, and Remus held his breath. “What do you want with me?”

“Oh, I am afraid I have been misunderstood. I do not want anything from you. It is your son I’m here for,” said Dumbledore genially, as though this was a normal house call. Remus couldn’t believe his ears. “Now, would you be so kind to let me in, so we could talk? Your door looks lovely, but it is rather cold, out here.”

“Why do you want to talk with Remus?” asked Mum, inquisitive.

“I believe it is time to discuss his future education, Mrs Lupin. I would never want Remus to believe that being a werewolf precludes him the opportunity to be educated as any other wizard of his age.”

His parents shared a terrified look, but an unjustified, irrational excitement swept through Remus.

“Yes, I know he is a werewolf,” said Dumbledore with the tone of someone  discussing trivial gossip. “I have known it for quite some time, actually, and if it had ever been my intention to report him, I would have seen to it years ago. Now that I think of it, if I were not here driven by the best of intentions, I would have already torn the door off its hinges, so why not step aside and invite me in?”

When his parents shared another doubtful glance, Remus almost left his hiding spot to beg them to let Dumbledore in, but it turned out there was no need. His father finally opened the door, welcoming the most famous living wizard into their house.

Dumbledore was a tall man with long white hair and a matching beard, which seemed even brighter in contrast with the deep purple of his cloak. He had a kind smile and piercing blue eyes behind a pair of half-moon spectacles, and Remus felt oddly drawn towards him. He kept staring at Dumbledore from his hiding spot while the Headmaster’s gaze wandered around, and suddenly they were looking right into each other’s eyes.

Remus jerked back, his heart hammering faster than ever.

“Hello, Remus,” said Dumbledore with amusement.

Caught in the act, Remus had no choice but to come forward, ignoring his parents’ surprised expressions. “Hello,” he mumbled.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you.” The Headmaster’s tone was amiable, and his smile warm. “Would you be so kind as to show me to your sitting room, Remus? I’d be delighted to offer one of my sherbet lemons in exchange,” he added with a wink, taking a sweet from his pocket and extending it to him.

In the living room, Dad lit a fire in the hearth with a wave of his wand, but Dumbledore’s gaze was fixed on a tiny box laid on the coffee table before the couches, a glint in his eyes.

“I have not played Gobstones in such a long time that I am afraid I have forgotten how to do it.”

Remus glanced at him, twisting his hands in his lap. “I could teach you, if you want...” he offered.

“That would be very kind of you.”

The old wizard sat on the floor with remarkable agility, and Remus openly stared at him.

“I believe it would be wise to start from the basic rules, my dear Remus,” said Dumbledore, crossing his leg beneath his purple robes. “I am all ears.”

When Remus had crushed Dumbledore twice and his mum’s tasty crumpets had been eaten, Dad finally dared to ask why the Headmaster had come visiting.

“I heard what happened to your son,” he said gravely.

“How?” asked Dad, a worried urgency in his voice. “We’ve been very careful. What gave us away?”

“Nothing has, Mr Lupin. I just happen to have ears within the werewolves.”

Then, to Remus’s surprise, Dumbledore turned toward him, looking right into his eyes. “It must be terribly hard for such a young boy to live with this condition.”

Remus tried to say something, but a lump in his throat had rendered him speechless, so he nodded, swallowing hard.

“I can not begin to imagine how difficult it must be not to engage with other children for that many years, and I think it is time to change that. I do not see any reasons to keep a mature, clever wizard like yourself from attending my school.”

Remus gaped at him, not daring to believe what he had just heard. “You mean… Hogwarts?”

“Yes, if my memory does not betray me that is exactly its name,” said Dumbledore with an amused wink.

“But, Professor, how could it be safe?” asked Mum, one hand squeezing Dad’s, the other clenching the arm of the couch.

“As it happens, my brother owns an old shack that nobody is willing to acquire. It is in Hogwarts, and with the appropriate spells it will serve as a safe place for Remus to transform. I will personally create a tunnel to connect it with the Hogwarts grounds; it will be the only way in, and our Herbology teacher will plant a Whomping Willow to protect the entrance.”

“A Whomping Willow?” asked Dad, perplexed.

“An incredibly powerful and rare tree, armed with animated branches that repel whoever gets too close, unless they press a certain knot in the trunk.”

Dumbledore made it all sound so easy, so manageable, but after more than five years spent moving from village to town as soon as someone commented on his peaky skin, Remus was reticent to believe that his greatest dream could become real. It sounded too good to be true.

“If that tree is this rare, how could you find one?”

“Oh, do not worry about that. A herbologist friend of mine owes me a favour.”

Remus was relieved, but he still couldn’t help thinking that Dumbledore must have missed something. His father probably thought the same, because he sent him a wary glance.

“Professor, Remus is getting stronger every year. Are you sure a tree will be enough to contain a grown werewolf?”

Remus jerked his head toward Dumbledore, his insides squirming with horror at the idea that he might break free, but the Headmaster smiled gently. “It most certainly will. Nonetheless, the tree won’t be the only measure we will adopt to keep the wolf inside. I assure you that only someone endowed with human intellect would be able to get out, but I daresay that no one gifted with that kind of intelligence would be so unwise to be present during the full moon,” said Dumbledore, an amused glint in his piercing eyes.  

All those informations were reassuring, but there was another question that needed to be asked, a question that had lurked in the back of Remus’s mind since the moment he had been offered to go to Hogwarts.

“Professor… would I have to tell everybody what I am?”

“No!” exclaimed his mum, straightening up. “No, Professor, I won’t allow any –”

When Dumbledore raised a hand, she fell silent.

“The teaching staff will be informed, and any objections will be dealt with by myself. Other than that, the choice is yours, though given the unfortunate prejudices against werewolves, I believe Remus would have a more enjoyable time if his condition isn’t disclosed.”

An aching surge of relief washed over Remus, and when Dumbledore asked him what he thought about it, he needed a long moment to answer.

“Everybody thinks that werewolves want to hurt people,” he murmured. “That they’re evil. I don’t want my classmates to think that of me. I… I’d really like to have some friends.”

Wednesday 10th of March 6th, 1971

It was Mum’s voice that woke him from a restless sleep.

“Happy birthday, honey,” she said with affection, squeezing him in her arms and swinging him softly.

Remus hugged her back, and when he let go Mum cupped his face and gave him a peck on the forehead.

Dad got close and clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “Happy birthday, sleepy boy. Now get up,” he added, poking his belly. “We have something very important to do.”

His parents were beaming, and Remus’s eyes flickered between them with trepidation. “What?”

“Well, a little bird told me that an eleven year old of my acquaintance would like a wand for his birthday…” said Mum, a huge grin on her face.

Remus gaped at them. “We’re going to buy a wand?”

When his parents nodded with excitement, words got stuck in Remus’s throat. He hugged them tight, and only as they walked toward the kitchen did he realise something was amiss.

“Why aren’t you at work, Dad?”

“Well, since the next transformation will be on Friday night, I won’t have to ask for leave the day after, so I thought I’d just take today instead.”

Remus looked at him with awe, thinking that Dad couldn’t have gotten him a better present.

*

“Good morning,” said a soft voice. Remus jerked his head from the thousand of narrow boxes neatly piled up to the ceiling. An old man was standing before him, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

“Pear, unicorn hair, eleven inches, springy,” he said, nodding at Dad. “I presume your wand still looks like new, Mr Lupin.”

Dad smiled. “It does.”

“Yes, yes, pear wood is well known among wandmakers for this remarkable characteristic,” said Mr Ollivander, nodding. He then turned towards Remus, his misty eyes roaming over his features without a blink. There was something slightly unnerving in his piercing, silvery gaze.

“What is your name, young boy?”

“Remus Lupin, sir.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Lupin. Now tell me,” – he pulled a long tape measure out of his pocket – “which is your wand arm?”

“I’m right-handed, sir.”

“Hold it out and stay still, then.”

After lifting his right arm, Remus didn’t move a muscle. Mr Ollivander told him about wand cores while he measured him from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and around his head.

Eventually, the wandmaker let the tape work on its own and began flitting around the shelves, pulling down boxes.

“That will do,” he said when he had picked up a wand. The tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor, and Remus felt a thrill of excitement.

“Try this one, Mr Lupin. Eleven inches and half, beech wood and unicorn hair; it’s rather bendy. The perfect match for a  wizard wise beyond his years. Just wave it.”

Remus did, but nothing happened.

“No, no, no,” said Mr Ollivander, snatching it from his hand and picking up another box. “Try this other one: phoenix feather with cedar wood, twelve inches and a quarter, very flexible. The perfect match for an uncommonly loyal and perceptive wizard.”

He offered him the wand, and Remus took it, but yet again nothing happened.

A distressing thought started growing in Remus’s mind: what if wands didn’t like werewolves, and no one was ever going to work for him? Would he still be admitted to Hogwarts? And even if werewolves could use it, would Mr Ollivander find the right one, since he was missing that fundamental piece of information?

When the old wizard gave him another wand, Remus cast away those unwelcome thoughts. “Let’s try with dragon heartstring, eleven inches, swishy, rowan. A wand wood for the pure-hearted, known for its strong protection spells.”

Remus swung it more forcefully, clenching his jaw in the effort to focus, once more to no avail.

He felt a pang of aching concern, but Mr Ollivander didn’t falter. If anything, he looked even more excited.

“Don’t trouble yourself, Mr. Lupin,” he said, rummaging through the shelves. “It happens all the time. We’ll find the wand that favours you, I can assure you.”

He pulled out several boxes only to hastily put them back, until he finally took one in both hands, humming with intrigue. “I wonder… Cypress, unicorn hair, ten inches and a quarter, pliable.”

When Remus took it, a sudden, pleasant warm spread through his right hand.

Awed, he swished the wand through the air, and a stream of gold and red sparks shot out from the tip.

In the corner of the shop, his mum let out a stunned gasp, and his father cheered.

“Oh, bravo! Very good, very good indeed!” said Mr Ollivander with delight, while Mum reached Remus and squeezed his shoulder with pride. “It’s a great honor for me to sell this particular wand.”

“An honour?” asked Mum, a hint of curiosity in her voice. She probably thought she was missing something because she was a Muggle, but Remus had no idea what it meant either, and if Dad’s expression was of any indication, he didn’t know as well.

“You see, this wood is associated with nobility of spirit,” explained Mr Ollivander. “My ancestor, the great wandmaker Geraint Ollivander, believed that wizards and witches matched with a cypress wand would die a heroic death.”

Mum gulped, cupping her mouth with a hand.

“There’s nothing to worry about, Mrs Lupin. Fortunately, in these less bloodthirsty times, the possessors of cypress wands are rarely called upon to sacrifice their lives, though doubtless many of them would do so if required. Wands of cypress find their soulmates among the brave, the bold and the selfless, those who are unafraid to confront the shadows in their own and others’ natures. And that is why it is an honour to meet a wizard worthy of it, and why it should be a honour for that wizard to have it.”

“It is, sir,” Remus assured him, touched.

Deep down, he knew that if he were to find true friends at Hogwarts, he would be ready to sacrifice everything to save them.

[edenamador]

100 Things about My Father

I forgot I was a poet. Skip down for the poem that came to me as clear as a crystal last night. Trigger warning - Suicide. 

I mean I have an inclination toward having dreams at night, 

thinking they have deeper meaning, and waking up with music in my head at 1:15am in the morning. 

There is something about 1:15 in the morning which has a razor sharp precision to it. Even though I’m more of a disconnected abstraction. Some constellation of stars nobody has given meaning to. Dreaming about that straight crush in college twice in one night. All this after in real life, oh and he was a poet too, now in grad school, who knows if he is the happy academic he craved to be. Who knows if he is still writing poetry or writing technical sentences with so much jargon nobody can understand. . . 

Its all rambly. I know it is annoying but that is how it comes to me. He asked me if I had followed the spirit and I told him I wrote the poem I was suppose to write. He was proud of me, like a dead ghost now, I loved him then but he is a stranger in a distant land now.

Yes, I was at Target, a place I worked so long ago and a previous co-worker said to me, “You look poetic, like you could be a poet.”

I didn’t know what to say but now I am dreaming of my poetic college muse and he is telling me to follow the spirit just as Beauvoir so now I’m on tumblr again because of that Target co-worker who said I should have a blog and get a following. An idea I laugh at because my poetry is well, I am poetic, I am not exactly a poet if I’m not writing poetry. So I guess I will share what came to me last night. At least a draft. 

My mother always says, “You have choices to make.”

So when my boyfriend says, “You never talk about your father,” and then asks, “Why is that?” 

I pause and my mother’s voice repeats, “You have choices to make.”

I could say a hundred things about the same thing. Like a simple fact about the color of a chair, “My father is dead.”

It sounds like, “The chair is red.”

1. My father died. 

My boyfriend might ask how he passed away which means I have to say more. This leaves me with more choices but I haven’t even jumped the first hurdle. I don’t even run track but the baton has been given to me, “How did he die?” I could have anticipated the next question and already answered it more bluntly. 

2. My father blew his brains out.

If I want to keep my boyfriend I should frame things particular to his way of life. That would be too precise and come off as indifferent like my father never mattered to me. He didn’t.

3. He died when I was four. 

Again, if I put it this way he might ask, “How?” and I would get to say

4. He loaded a pistol. I think it was a .45 pistol or a glock, and took the weapon to rat lake where he blew his brains out. 

If I present it with “when I was four” the cold way in which I say, “He blew his responsibilities away,” pops like a childhood bubble.

5. He’s pushing up daisies. 

6. He’s seven feet under. 

7. He croaked. 

Before the gun fire went off out in the country where only the frogs and flora of the boreal northern forests would hear it the American toads reed. When the gunfire went off silence consumed the forest for a few minutes before returning to normal a few minutes later. A few hours later, with the loons calling, a friend of my father’s came across his body and reported it to the authorities. 

8. My father was a mail carrier.

I could have said this as it would have delayed revealing the information about the death of my father, and how he died, the conversation about the long term effect it had on my psychology and the psychological impact on the rest of my family. Though, according to my mother everything turned out fine. Which is why as I approach 30 years old I am waking up in the middle of the night because I’m having dreams about people in graduate school programs saying, “He doesn’t even talk about his father! He talks about Black Lives Matter, Marxism, Gender Theory and all this crap, but he hasn’t even mentioned his father.”

9. My father is out of the picture. 

10. I would rather not talk about my father. 

11. I didn’t know much about my father. 

12. I don’t remember much about my father. 

13. My father left me with dry skin and a proclivity toward depression. 

14. My mother was a single mother. 

15. I guess I don’t talk about my father. Hugh, I wonder why that is. 

I like this because I can act like I’m just as dumbfounded by it as my boyfriend is. Creative writer circles often told me I am not concrete enough. So I guess we were sitting at a park in Hutchinson Minnesota when my boyfriend at the time asked this question. A few years later when the relationship had faded and I asked to be dating again he told me, “Some gay men have issues.” While I cried about it and refused to speak to him ever again he was right. I was a gay man with issues, daddy issues to be exact. 

16. My father had a beard. 

17. My father was an alcoholic and when my mother said she had enough he couldn’t handle it and blew his brains out. 

This one is the worst of them. It sounds like my mother caused my father to commit suicide. Nobody but my father took a gun to his head and blew his brains out. 

18. My mother never remarried after my father was out of the picture. 

Again, I could say this but it remains vague enough to lead to other questions any intimate partner would have the right to know. Or perhaps nobody has the right to know about my father and that I have the right not to talk about him to anyone. “Did they get a divorce?”

19. Do we have to talk about this. I’d rather not talk about this because I am not ready to reveal that story and its long term effects on me. Look, it’s a nice day and I’m happy talking about a million other things. 

This might indicate I lack the trust necessary to share that story. He may take it personally and think that our relationship should be more open. Or he might respect that answer and remain curious. Most people would talk about both their parents openly and in positive ways.

20. All the options in my life have been formed by my father’s decision to kill himself.

21. He killed himself. 

22. He offed himself. 

23. He decided he no longer wished to live. 

24. When given the option between suicide and coffee he chose suicide. 

25. I need counseling to answer that question. 

My mother was right. The choices were really endless. I could even use the same word presented in a different way. There were a lot of strategies for answering this question. Even after the question was asked I kept gathering new academic methodologies to answer the question, “Why don’t you talk about your father?”

26. If I open up about him I’m afraid I will scare you away because if I talk about my father I am admitting that I am a flawed human being with an abnormal childhood upbringing. 

Again, more options appear even if I avoid the subject of my father all together. It seems that certain events have greater effect on the long term psychology of the individual than others. But was my childhood “abnormal” or was my mother “doing the best she could” in situations which were out of her control? But it couldn’t of been out of her control. . . “Everybody has choices to make. . .”

27. “My father died when I was four.”

28. “I was four when my father died.”

I cannot remember which of these I used but it was one of the two. So I said what I thought in the moment. I paused. I know I paused and my boyfriend said, “Only if you are comfortable talking about it.”

29. I might cry if I talk about my father. But I don’t think I will. I usually don’t but its sad. Don’t be sorry, you didn’t do anything. Why do people say sorry when I say this? What personal responsibility did they have for it? Why do I have to answer this question? Why will this question always come up when in relationships? 

30. His death effect me because I was too young. 

That’s a lie because I know it impacted the whole trajectory of my life. There were material consequences. For example his life was attached to the union. This left my mother with a small financial cushion to fall back on when she was left to raise three children. While it may have been small it was enough for her to go to college for ten years and get a bachelor’s degree in education. 

31. I never talk about my father because then I have to talk about my mother. My mother looks like an American hero for the choices she didn’t make but talking about my mother also reveals the hidden demons I am not suppose to talk about as it might make her look bad. 

32. I never talk about my father because it usually becomes a really long essay about masculinity, the effects of neo-liberal feminism, and requires a master’s degree in sociology and a Ph.D. in philosophy to get to the bottom of it. It requires skill, tact, intelligence, emotional strength, and persistence to answer with any certainty. It’s a philosophical question at heart and I am not a philosopher, I am merely a subject exposed to systems of power which shape my experience in a world I did not create. 

“Why don’t you talk about your father?”

33. Why did he commit suicide? Why did my brother point a gun to my head? Why did my mother trust a teenager to get me to and from school going ninety miles an hour down icy unplowed country roads at seven in the morning? Why did the chicken cross the road? Why is the sky blue?

34. He’s sinking in the swamps. 

35. The worms are feeding on his body. 

36. He’s dead. 

37. He’s gone. 

38. He’s no longer with us. 

If at this point the possibilities seem pointless, redundant, or obnoxious, imagine being at work when a co-worker flippantly says, “I’m ready to blow my brains out.”

39. My father hurt his back and wouldn’t go to see the doctor. It was severe pain and he couldn’t really talk about it. He drank his physical and mental pains away. Sometimes he would come home drunk and punch walls in. I do remember waking up to the sound of shattering glass. The stove glass broke because my father kicked it in during one of his masculine temper tantrums. 

40. I didn’t know it when it was first asked but I now think my father died because of hyper-masculinity. I don’t think he was allowed to express any of the emotional or physical hardships he had. He likely had depression and was obviously having thoughts of suicide. Other’s in the family had committed suicide and had mental issues. When I go to the psychologist they show me genetic connections but as a sociology major I am thinking more about the limits on men expressing emotions. My father couldn’t express his emotions, that’s for sure, so he likely imploded, quite literally. 

41. I don’t mean to come off as cold hearted or disconnected, it’s just that the death of my father strikes me more as an abstraction than a concrete reality. When it does come up I am reminded of my differences, my class upbringing, the social values that played out in my childhood. 

42. For my brother my father was a something which became a nothing. For me my father is a nothing who, when asked about his existence, becomes a something that should have been, but wasn’t. 

43. By opening up about my father I cannot really say who he is without explaining who he was not and for me he was more of a not than a was. 

44. “Your father loved you,” my aunt says. 

45. My father bought two stuffed monkeys. The monkey was Abu from the Disney show Aladdin. He did this a few months before he killed myself. In addition to that he also bought me a small baseball glove. My uncle on my mother’s side went with my dad to the store to pick these up. My uncle says he was likely planning his suicide during this time and asked my mother that we hide these items when my uncle was around so he wouldn’t be reminded of my father’s suicide.

How could my father have loved me if he blew his brains out? It hardly seems like an act of love to abandon your child at the age of four. 

46. “God has a plan for everyone and even though it may not make sense to us down here there is a plan and there is nothing we can do about it.” Likely something my pastor said or something my grandmother said or something someone said along the way. When on a date with an attractive suitable man one doesn’t want to delve into religious theology and questions about the existence of God, determinism versus free will, the meaning of life, and deeper levels of spiritual enlightenment, or lack there of. One wants to eat ice cream, giggle about some superfluous thing, and see if one can see some concrete shape in the clouds: its a duck, a bird, a dinosaur, a giraffe. What do you see when you look at the sky? Is there something more out there? 

When asked about my father I am asked about a whole series of causal effects. When asked about my father I am asked to see myself as an object in the world formed by what the existentialists refer to as facticity. At this moment I free myself from the container which shaped me and am allowed to reconstruct the object that I am as I choose. 

I also begin to ask myself, “what if things had played out differently,” as I am prone to ask the questions I was told weren’t worth asking. I was told there were no answers to them but the questions which don’t have answers are the questions I like the most. So being asked about my father is really asking me who I am and how I became who I am. I am inclined to answer if one has the time for it. Most people don’t have the time, the intellect, the patience, the attention span, or the emotional capacity for such things. So I prefer to say, 

47. “Shh, daddy is sleeping. We must not wake him. He’s a terrible ghost. Let’s play hide and seek with death! Can you count to one hundred?”

48. “In any case, that little boy didn’t want to grow up for fear of becoming serious.” pg. 327 Jean Paul Sartre War Diaries

49. “But as soon as man grasps himself as free, and wishes to use his freedom, all his activity is a game: he’s its first principle; he escapes the world by his nature; he himself ordains the value and rules of his acts, and agrees to pay up only according the the rules he has himself ordained and defined.” 326 Jean Paul Sartre 

50. “And man is serious when he forgets himself; when he makes the subject into an object; when he takes himself for a radiation derived from the world: engineers, doctors, physicists, biologists are serious.” 326 Jean Paul Sartre The War Diaries

51. When my father died my mother was left to raise three boys. He was a step father to one of my brothers so one of my brothers still had a father. So my father is really three people: a dad who was then wasn’t, a dad who wasn’t then was, and a step dad.

I could have never explained all this that day I was asked. There in a rural town in the middle of a corn-field playing out the waves of one of my first gay relationships I simply said, “My dad is dead.” Reality is bleak like that. It restricts possibilities. Reality is only here in the field of “you have choices to make”. Reality are the options available. I am free to make choices in relation to concrete possibilities. For example I used covid stimulus money to pay for my rent so I could I have time to write this. I could have used it to buy copious amounts of liquor to subdue my existential angst. I could have used it to put it to my loans. I quit my job to give myself the time necessary to heal the wounds of the past. I refuse to conform to the pressure to buy a vehicle and get a license because I would have to buy car insurance which would mean I need a job to pay for the cars insurance. I would need gas to go back and forth to work where I would only continue to suppress my authenticity. Authenticity can never be achieved. It can only be something which is consistently reproduced. I reproduce myself as a writer only in the act of writing. Even the short pause between characters I realize other possibilities. Writing must be a consistent act I partake in everyday as a way of pursuing my own projects with the material conditions given to me.

52. My father is four people or five people because he was a co-worker to my middle school friend’s father, also a wife, a brother, an uncle. Six or seven people. He was never a grandfather though and could never be a grandfather. He could never have the possibility of being a grandfather so when my nephew says he doesn’t have a grandfather, his great uncle says he would be happy to fill the role. So my uncle, married to my mother’s blood sister, is my nephew’s grandfather. 

The more I think about choices the more I start to confirm that choices are in relation to particular material conditions given to a situation which show the constricting impact of choices. 

53. My mother, because of my father’s death, often found jimmy-rigged options for babysitters when family members were not available. When she realized my brother and I weren’t mature enough to handle being at home alone by ourselves, she looked into other options such as having me stay at the library until it closed. Later I learned that urban libraries have a phrase for this condition called, “Library latchkey kids,” which are children who’s parents are busy because of social economic conditions they end up going to the library after school for free baby-sitting. 

https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=16451347

I would stay in the library until it closed. My mother would slip the librarian a twenty dollar bill. I asked about it once and I learned in one way or another not to ask about such things. 

When I took the Myers Briggs test in high school I scored nearly a hundred percent INFP which to me meant I was destined to be a genius like Shakespeare, taught in English classes all around the world for centuries to come. It meant I was introverted, intuitive, feeling, and perceptive. It meant that my room was messy but that my bookshelves were ordered perfectly with the Dewey decimal system. In high school I read Waiting for Godot with no idea it belonged to existential literature. On the question of why I don’t talk about my father, I am still Waiting for Godot. 

54. My father’s suicide, in the long-term, meant I got to be alone with books. I often tired of reading and would chat with the librarian. She would ask me if I had a girlfriend and show me the things she wanted on craigslist. Sometimes she had to rapidly click her computer screen to hide some areas of the internet that should not be looked at while a minor sat reading Dr. Seuss, books about nature, or how volcanoes worked. I loved reading. I could never get enough. One of the librarians never believed I read as many books as I did and often discredited some of the books she believed were above my level. I was smart and there’s nothing worse to rural people than a smart, effeminate, boy with a love of reading.

I was always told that my mother was good and was always asked if she was still in college. For ten years I said yes she is in college. For twenty years I never told anyone my brother pointed a gun to my head because she left us unattended with the gun case unlocked. When I brought it up to her in my late twenties she said it wasn’t possible because my twenty year old cousin was there in the camper. When I asked I thought I was testing whether or not she could have subdued her ego enough to admit to the possibility that it may have not been the best choice to leave minors unattended with an unlocked gun case at home. That’s the way things were with her growing up so why would it be any different with us? All of a sudden she gets away with making the right choices because, “She pulled herself up by the bootstraps and got a degree in education.”

Anytime I try to explain my experiences of these circumstances I am caught in a social trap by which the liberal value of women choosing careers over a life of drunkenness and whoreish behavior to capture the love of a man my mother’s story overrides. My experience of having a gun pointed at my head by my own brother is over-ridden by another set of values. 

55. I had a shot gun pointed to my head by my own brother because I was singing too loudly and he was hungover because he was drinking alcohol. 

56. I didn’t know if the shot gun was loaded. 

57. I stopped singing, fell backwards, and made a snow angel.

“Well, you’re mother could have brought over a bunch of rotten men. You could have been sexually abused.”

58. My brother used to chase me around the house naked and dry hump me. These are the effects of leaving minors unattended after school out in the country. And you know it which is why you started getting babysitters for us. It was after too many nights coming house to a destroyed house that my mother decided to have some family members watch over us and make sure we did our homework.  

59. “Stop being a victim you liberal snowflake.”

60. But I’m actually criticizing the effects of applied feminism in the 21st century. 

61. “You’re mother is a good person.”

63. “It could have been worse.”

64. “Everything turned out fine.”

65. “Everyone has trauma to deal with. Everyone has baggage.”

My boyfriend told me of growing up. His father was a chemist at Kellogg’s and his mother was an instructor at a community college. He was a potter, a knitter, and a banjo player. He became an English teacher. He told me that one time his dad brought home bags of Lucky Charm marshmallows for him and his sister to eat. His father recorded their responses to the marshmallows and adjusted the ratios of sugar based on those tests. That doesn’t sound like trauma to me. That sounds like a healthy childhood which leads one to have self confidence, self esteem, and the emotional stability necessary to face the mixed messages of life. In the meantime I seek out people who tell me I’m dumb, ugly, stupid, and will never amount to anything because I think that’s a normal relationship. If I am not doing that I am hiding in my room wondering what the point of being alive is wondering if there is any hope for me to heal and get better.

66. My father’s suicide is a traumatic past which shapes my entire experience. It’s a past that I have the right to represent by writing it. It’s a past which is not, “Everything turned out fine,” and no my mother did not, “Pull herself up by her bootstraps,” she had choices to make and one of those choices was to leave minors home alone with a gun case full of weapons and to trust that nothing bad could have happened in that circumstance. I will not limit myself to the blindness feminist discourse encouraged when I told my story to an existential philosophy professor at a liberal university. Yes, she could have chosen worse, but it could have turned out much better. I will not sit here silently submitting to my brother’s words, “Don’t tell anyone or I will kill you!”

“Why don’t you talk about your father?”

67. Well kill me. I’d be better off anyway. I am willing to die for the truth in the same way an American soldier is willing to die for his country. I am willing to stand for something even if I am alone. Pull the trigger. If it makes you feel like a man to point a gun at your brother you might as well pull the trigger. 

“It wasn’t loaded. Do you think I would actually put a shot gun shell in it. I love you, I’m your brother. Do you think I’m an idiot? I wouldn’t actually do that. . .”

“Why don’t you talk about your father?”

68. It’s exhausting. It’s a threat to my existence. It reminds me that blowing my brains out is a real possibility whereas for most people its a thing you say when life sucks. The following is an example of that. 

When I was working as an English as a Second Language instructor I thought I had made it. I thought that teaching immigrants and refugees English meant I had established myself as a concrete being in the world permanently enmeshed as a career oriented man. My degree in Sociology was justified and my graduate certificate was no longer a waste of time, energy, and effort. I quickly learned that my masculinity was always under question and that the few men in that field were perfectly miserable beings. The whole notion that people became teachers because they were heart filled beings with a passion for helping others vanished when my co-worker, a professional teacher who taught abroad in Japan, made the shape of a gun with his finger, lifted it to his head, and pulled the trigger. I had simply asked him how he was doing and it was apparently not well. I was feeling rather dismal and would like to think I responded like this. 

69. It’s a great position to be in. A cock loaded full of cum in my mouth and my cock loaded full of cum in his mouth. The tension was rising. Would we ever get to the desired result of all of our efforts? Would we ever achieve orgasm? Would we ever blow? Rest assured we exploded and were perfectly satisfied. There’s just something about holes and filling them which none of us can resist. Yet, even when the hole is filled to the brim with hot cum we feel so empty that we can no longer go on and so we pause. It’s okay to have long periods of stagnation so long as we can pull out at the right time and forgive ourselves for our responses to the past. The future may not appear to hold much but there is so much time and so many holes to fill. 

70. They covered my father’s hole with makeup. They closeted the cause of his death. At the funeral they closed the bottom half of the casket which made me think that someone cut my father’s legs off with giant scissors. I screamed. I was convinced that his legs were cut off with giant scissors and that someone had caused his death. 

71. How is a four year old suppose to understand this when adults are unable to tell the truth when the child asks questions about his dead father. He isn’t going to understand these things if adults themselves still don’t understand them. Adults go to great lengths to omit the grievances and effects of such events. “Everything turned out fine,” and “You’ve got choices to make.” 

A four year old’s brain is not ready to understand such things because adults don’t understand them. His memories are barely forming and he is still fascinated by blowing bubbles. Adults have lost their imaginations. He smiles at the sound of popcorn popping while adults drench popcorn in so much salt and butter that they die of heart attacks and call it death by natural causes. A child laughs when he sees a frozen lake swarmed by a hundred seagulls as teenage boys stuff frogs down the barrels of shot guns and laugh when American toad guts go spiraling into the sky like fireworks.

The events surrounding my father’s death are my first memories. There are many of them like the pastor holding me trying to give me comfort. I press my stomach for comfort. My first memories are the feeling of anxiety, that weird pang in the stomach which goes unexplained by doctors and still causes ulcers. There’s my cousin saying my father is away for a very long time and that he is in heaven. These memories attach themselves to future interactions when all compiled leave one wishing there were no choices to make at all. It leaves one wishing that there was one defined path meant for everyone which would eliminate all angst and all decisions. In fact it often feels better if there was no free will at all and that God really did have a plan for each individual. 

There is another pastor, who many years later, told me my father was in hell. This leaves me with one of those ridiculous choices and questions, “Is my father in heaven or in hell?” There is my aunt who tells me that my pastor is wrong and the Bible never mentions. There is my uncle who says people who don’t believe in God are not allowed in his home. There is the ice cream I ate after I was taken out of the funeral home to ease the emotional burden a screaming four year old must have placed on my father’s friends and family members. The ice cream was a temporary cure which taught me that negative emotions could be easily drowned with chocolate sauce and colorful sprinkles.

72. My father is in heaven. 

73. My father is in hell. 

74. My father is in purgatory. 

75. I don’t know where the fuck my father is. 

76. Do souls exist?

78. What is the difference between agnostic theism and agnostic atheism?

79. It’s ok to think about dying now and again. I think everyone has thought about it now and again but I’m not sure. I’m only one person with so many heartbeats. 

80. I don’t think I will commit suicide because it doesn’t solve anything. Living doesn’t solve much either but at least I can say I tried to count to one hundred. 

81. I might cry if I talk about my father. 

82. It’s ok to cry. 

83. It’s ok to cry. 

84. It’s ok to cry.

85. It’s ok to cry. 

86. It’s ok to cry. 

87. If you cannot sleep count the sheep or cry. 

88. It’s ok to cry. 

89. Real men cry. 

90. Real men cry. 

91. Real men cry. 

92. Real men cry like big men. 

93. Real men cry like grown men. 

94. Real men cry like real men. 

95. It’s ok to cry. 

96. It’s ok to cry. 

97. Facts may not care about feelings but feelings are always seeking out facts to justify themselves. One must be careful about the facts used to represent their feelings. 

98. Over intellectualization isn’t crying. It’s a defense mechanism. 

99. It’s okay to cry. 

100. Everything turned out fine.