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mirasantidotes · 1 year

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Messy Annotations - Chapter 1

(GIFs not mine)

Read chapter 2 here

Summary: You meet Javi at your local library and notice he's reading your favorite book. You two hit it off and spend your day together, just talking and getting to know each other before you spend the night at his house on accident.

Character: Javi Gutierrez (TUWOMT)

Content Warnings: very ooc!javi, shy!javi, sunshine!reader, reader has wavy hair, reader lives in spain, very fluffy, reader's love language is touch, implied slight age gap (reader is in their 30s), can be read platonically or romantically, a LOT of blushing (a little too much), reader goes to college later in life, HUGE bookworm!reader, no use of y/n. Let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Thank you for your notes and compliments on Dance With Me; it means a lot! Also, just send an ask/comment and tell me if you'd like a part 2 to this, I had a lot of fun writing it, and I have a few ideas already for a part 2. If you have any other ideas for fanfics, my asks are open for requests! I hope you all enjoy this; it took me forever to get done, and I had an insanely hard time coming up with how I wanted this fic to turn out. The struggle was totally worth it though; this is probably one of my favorite fics I've written!

All of my posts with an * in the title contain smut, or mentions of it. Minors DNI.

(Divider by saradika)

Living in Spain has been one of your biggest dreams, and you finally moved here for college abroad to work on your infuriating art major, even though you feel like you’re a little old for college now that you’re in your 30s. You’re an underground artist, and you’re just itching to get your work out there to be noticed by the public. You’re an absolute ball of sunshine, and to be fair, you’re the most energetic and outgoing person you know, but, you don’t really know too many people in Spain yet, but that’s beside the point. You really are energetic, though— almost too much. There is one thing that you’re always excited about though, no matter what— reading. Finding new books to binge-read in one sitting is always one of your favorite activities when you have free time. The library cashier is extremely tired of you coming in every week.

Javi Gutierrez, on the other hand, is the polar opposite of you. He’s a shy, new up-and-coming actor who doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life after the success of his first movie. Though fame is finding him well, much more than anticipated, he doesn’t particularly want to make another movie quite yet, now that his co-star, Nic Cage, has left Spain. Even with his newfound fame, he still enjoys going out and doing activities he enjoys, which mainly include going to the local library. He prefers reading in a library than in his own house, alone. He likes the atmosphere the library gives him, but most of all, he loves tucking himself away strategically in the corner of the library window, so he can look out and see the bustling streets of people living their everyday lives.

On a Friday afternoon, you have some free time to yourself, and you, of course, decide to head to your local library. You never go on Fridays— your typical day off is Sunday, but today was different; today was a professor work day at your college, so you had no classes or any assignments to complete, meaning you could spend your whole day reading. You walk into the library happily, as always. The smell of the ink bled into the pages of hundreds of books filled your lungs— a scent you thoroughly enjoyed. You finally pick out a new book that you’ve been eyeing, having heard good things about it online and from the people in your college.

Even though you got what you came for, you couldn’t walk into a library and buy just one book— no, you had to buy at least 5 every time you came in. After picking out your books, you waltz to the cashier, who already appeared annoyed at you being there. A strict, slightly older woman— always had an attitude, but that didn’t let you stop being your energetic, bubbly self to her. “You know, you still need to return the other 10 books, right?” she says, sternness filling her tone.

“Yeah, yeah! I know; I’ll bring them all back next time I come!” you say, smiling widely, setting the books down on the counter. The woman simply rolls her eyes at your response, knowing you’d be back in a few days and she’d have to deal with you again. After she scans the books, the woman tells you, “Your total is going to be €15.75.” €15.75… you think. You only brought €15— you sigh in response; the woman before you, never having heard that sound come out of you, and looked at you like you had 3 heads planted firmly upon your shoulders. You searched your pockets and purse but had no change.

“It’s just 75 cents. Can’t you let it pass this once?” You plead but to no avail. The woman shakes her head harshly, muttering something about ‘library rules,’ but you were too disappointed by her head shake to take care of what she said. You sigh once more— looking around the library; surely somebody would be willing to give you a dollar, right? Right?

You feel increasingly upset the longer you look through the library aisles for someone to ask until your eyes finally land on a gentleman wearing a mustard-colored shirt full of wrinkles. He was sitting in a corner, away from everything, with his legs planted on a footrest and his face hiding behind a book. You hold your finger up to the cashier, signaling for her to wait as she sighs in response. You walk up to the man, “Hey! I hate to ask you this, but I was just checking out, and I’m 75 cents short. Do you mind? It’s okay if not—” you say quickly, trying not to seem too over the top.

The man lowers his book, and a shy pink rose upon his cheeks while nodding slowly. “Um yeah, sure,” he whispers, almost inaudible, as he shifts himself in his seat and reaches into his jeans pocket for some change. He pulls a €5 bill from his pockets and raises his hand for you to take it before settling back into his seat.

You take the bill from between his fingers, grinning brightly— “Thank you so much! You’re a lifesaver,” you say, full of enthusiasm. A soft smile washes over the man’s face before nodding, his cheeks still showing a light rose color. You turn on your heel and rush back to the cashier, proudly waving your money in the air. After checking out, the cashier hands you your change, and you grab your books. Before you leave, you turn back and walk toward the man again. He seemed to have heard you coming and had lowered his book just enough to see you already standing there. “Hey again, thank you for lending me some money. Here’s the change!” you say, holding the money out to him, close enough for him to reach it. The man lowers his book into his lap, smiling softly, takes the money from your grasp, and messily pushes the money back into his jeans.

You finally catch a glimpse of the man's entire face, his curly brown hair complimenting his tanned skin and the patchy stubble on his face. You grow curious and look into the man’s lap to see what book he’s reading— and to your surprise, it’s your favorite book ever. “Oh my God,” you exclaim, a little too loud for a library, startling the man slightly and causing him to look at you. After adjusting your tone accordingly, you continue— “that’s my favorite book!”

His face lights up brightly, “Really? That’s awesome,” he enthuses, yelling in a whisper. Just for a moment, he’s brought out of his shy state. He adjusts his position again, sitting forward in his seat and removing his feet from the footrest. “I’ve loved this book since it came out,” he continues, “I’ve never met anyone else who likes it.”

“Yeah, all the books from this author are really good! I especially love this one, though,” you finish, smiling as you sit on the footrest in front of the man, hugging your new books to your chest. The man, shy once more, becomes flustered until “Hey, I was thinking of going to the coffee shop down the street. Do you wanna come with?” you say, tilting your head to the side.

The man’s eyes widened, with even more heat rising into his cheeks— another thing they had in common; coffee. “Yeah, of course,” he enthuses, breaking eye contact just enough to stand up out of his seat while grabbing his bag and placing his book inside of it, “I love that place!” he finishes as he puts the bag messily around his shoulder, looking back at you. He looks down at the books you’re holding in your arms, and as you stand up, he asks, “Do you wanna put your books in my bag? So you don’t have to hold them—” he says softly.

“Yeah, sure! Just don’t steal them for yourself,” you joke, making yourself chuckle before handing him your books. The man blushes at your words, taking the books from your hands and placing them all inside his bag. The two of you walk out of the library, and you wave to the cashier as you leave; she, of course, didn’t wave back. As the two of you walk towards the coffee shop, you get lost in conversation about your favorite books. The walk was the same distance it always was, but with the man walking with you, it felt a lot shorter than usual.

Just as you reach the shop, you stop suddenly. You hadn’t asked the man his name, nor had he asked you. “I forgot to ask, what’s your name?” you say, turning to him, smiling nervously.

“Javi,” he says, his rich, deep voice rings through your ears. A soft laugh escapes your mouth, full of nervousness as you tell the man your name, him joining your chuckles soon after. The two of you sit at one of the tables placed by a window.

The two of you gush over your newfound subjects in common— a not-so-known favorite author and coffee. What could be better? The two of you spend well over an hour hogging up the coffee table, just getting to know each other, until a worker comes and tells you that you have to leave if you aren’t going to buy anything else. The two of you are already so strung out on coffee you both know either of you doesn’t need any more in your system. “Hey, do you wanna come over to my house for a little bit?” Javi asks, “You don’t have to, obviously; I know we just met and—”

You spring your head up at his words; you’ve been having a lot of fun talking to Javi so far; what could it hurt? “Of course!” you interrupt his concerned rambling. He simply smiles in return, picking up the bag under his seat as he stands up. The two of you walk to the door of the coffee shop, “I walked here from my house, so it’s a bit of a walk—” he says, as he opens the door for you to walk out, “I hope that’s okay,” he finishes as he walks out behind you, closing the door.

“Yeah, that’s alright!” you say excitedly as the two of you start walking toward’s Javi’s house. Obviously, you don’t go to random people’s houses like this, but Javi felt— different. He felt trustworthy, considerate, and loving. You’re brought out of your thoughts while on the way there as you spot a flower field to the left of you. You stop walking to look at the view for a moment, Javi noticing almost immediately. He turns back to face you, a slight smile planted on your face. You’ve never been to this area of Spain before, and already, it’s so much more beautiful than where you currently dwell.

Javi looks for a moment at your wavy hair, lightly being blown in the sunset’s wind, the sun glowing brightly in the backdrop of you, lighting illuminating your features. As he realizes he’s been staring, he clears his throat and fixes his shirt before stepping toward you. Just as he reaches your side, you look at him. “It’s beautiful,” you declare, still looking at the field. Javi looks at you and nods, “Yeah, it is.” before turning his head to look where your eyes were fixated. Suddenly, you interlink your arm with his, tugging at him to follow you into the field. “Come on, let’s pick some flowers,” you say, excitement filling your body, with a slight red washing across your face as you unlink your arm, running your hand down to hold his, as you turn around to face him while walking backward as laughter fills the air. Javi blushes at the sight of you for what seems like the millionth time today— as you two reach relatively far from the path you were previously walking, you let go of Javi’s hand, your body missing his touch.

You bend down near a patch of red carnations, picking a flower and lifting it to your nose, smelling the sweet yet subtle clove-like scent and letting it fill your body, making you feel warm inside. You stand back up and turn around to see Javi standing behind you, hands in his pockets with the corners of his lips upturned softly, causing gentle wrinkles to form around his dark-colored eyes. You walk up to him and place the flower behind his ear, letting his soft curls hug around the stem to hold it in place— light pink creeps up his neck and onto his cheeks once more.

You giggle at his face, full of awe— you break your gaze from his kind face enough to look up into the sky, causing Javi to do the same. You notice it’s getting late, and just as you’re about to say you should get going to Javi’s house, he speaks, “It’s getting late; we should hurry before it gets too dark,” his deep voice with his rich accent echoing through your ears as if honey had a sound— making your cheeks flush.

You simply nod in agreement while holding your hand out for him to take it. He has to look back between your hand and your face a few times before finally taking it in his own, making a few soft chuckles escape your mouth, causing him to do so too. After about 20 minutes of walking, the bright orange rays shining behind you slowly disappear until finally reaching it’s end, and the lightness of the moon begins peeking out from the horizon. The two of you reach Javi’s home, and God— was it beautiful. You wouldn’t admit it, but you felt slightly jealous while walking into his pristine villa home when you’re reminded of your small college dorm.

“Do you want a drink or anything?” he asks, breaking the non-awkward silence the two of you had throughout your walk.

“Sure! Water’s fine,” you reply happily, looking at all of the knick-knacks Javi had littered throughout his home. Javi returns with your water in hand, nearly running to get back to you.

After handing it to you, he speaks up, “Do you wanna go sit on the couch— or?” he says, his voice laced with a sort of sweetness that makes your body tingle. You nod in response, taking a sip from your water. Javi guides you to his living room; the large room before you opens up as he turns on moody, orange lights that remind you of the sunset you saw a mere hour ago. It feels homey— welcoming, and warm. Something you don’t experience at your own college house. Javi walks over to the couch, covered in soft blankets and a few pillows, and kicks his feet up on the coffee table. You follow closely behind, sitting close to him, your knees almost brushing against each other as you sink into your seat.

Javi hums as if he’s forgotten something essential and stands up without saying anything. He disappears into the other room, leaving you there. After a few moments, he returns— an old worn book in his hands. “This is one of my favorite books,” he says, sitting back down next to you, “I want you to read it,” he finishes softly, looking at you while motioning for you to take it. You oblige— surprisingly, it’s a book you’ve never read, so of course, you’d be willing. You open the book to the first page, glancing at it, then turning over a few pages before running your fingers through each and every page, noticing messily written notes and scribbles written out into the worn margins. You absolutely adore annotated books, and it’s one of your favorite pastimes, besides actually reading the book in the first place.

You let a few chuckles escape your mouth as you look up to see Javi’s relieved expression grow on his face after your silence. You reach over to hug him quickly, causing him to laugh too, his hand resting on your upper back. You pull away, returning your attention to the book, positioning yourself cross-legged before him, sinking into your seat even more. “Can I read it now?” you ask, smiling, still not looking at him but skimming the first page's notes.

“Of course,” he says simply, smiling. You start reading immediately— resting your head on the side of the couch. You point out a few rather silly remarks he’s written down on the first page, causing you both to giggle. You spend well over an hour just reading the pages of the book, occasionally engaging in a conversation about what you’re reading, Javi being just as fascinated with it as you are, if not more which makes you chuckle. After a while, a “Can I lay my head on your lap?” escapes your mouth, looking at Javi for consent. He nods as his face heats up, and you lay down, the book above your face, as you two still talk about the notes he’s made and the careless actions the main character makes in the book.

About halfway through the book, you hear Javi’s stomach grumble something mean, causing you to laugh. “You hungry?” you ask sarcastically, looking at him, letting a few more chuckles escape your mouth. You receive a nod as he joins in on your laughter, a slight tint of embarrassment hidden within as he hides his face behind his hands. You lift your head off his lap, setting the book down on the couch, not leaving the page you left off on. “You should eat,” you say softly.

“Yeah,” he pauses, thinking. “Do you want some cake? That’s what I’m going to have,” he finishes, looking over at you, eyes glistening in the light’s warm tones that fill the room.

You smile, “That sound’s perfect!” you say, nodding. He stands up, whispering a quiet ‘okay’ sound before disappearing into the other room once more before returning a few minutes later with two plates, each with red velvet cake and a napkin on each. You let out a small squeak at the sight, making your mouth water slightly at the richly flavored cake. As you two are eating, Javi finishes rather quickly, and you notice frosting on his face he doesn’t seem to notice. You pick up your napkin to wipe it off, his cheeks turning visibly red, as does yours, the both of you gigging.

Once you finish your cake, you set both plates down on the coffee table, along with the book, and lay your head back down on his lap. “Wanna watch some TV?” you ask, looking up at his face and into his eyes as he meets yours.

“Sure thing,” he says, nodding while looking down at your face before reaching for the remote to turn on the TV. After an hour of watching the show, you fall asleep, head still resting in his lap. He notices shortly after when he hears the soft snores that escape your mouth, which is slightly agape. He smiles at the sight, lowering his hand down to brush some of the hair out of your face. He feels your cold skin and grabs the blanket from behind you that was messily thrown over the couch’s back, and lays it over your body, causing you to stir slightly in your sleep. He lowers the volume of the TV so as to not wake you up.

Shortly after, he looks down at your sleeping state, whispering a light "Goodnight, hermosa (beautiful)," before he leans back onto the couch deeper, sighing contently, before falling asleep for the night, with you in a deep sleep on his lap.

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mirisss · 2 months

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Wait & Wish

Kim Jiwoong x reader x Zhang Hao

warnings: unrequited love, partying, I think that’s it.

wordcount ≈ 5.5k

Please reblog!

The first day of senior year was both exciting and nerve-wracking. As I entered the classroom, my eyes caught sight of him – Zhang Hao. His mere presence seemed to illuminate the room, and my heart skipped a beat. I found an empty seat near the back, but my gaze lingered on him as he engaged in conversation with classmates, effortlessly blending into the vibrant tapestry of high school life.

Days turned into weeks, and my infatuation with Zhang Hao only deepened. He was not just a face in the crowd; he was a magnetic force that drew my attention like a moth to a flame. I admired him from afar, appreciating the way he treated everyone with kindness, his laughter echoing through the halls.

One day, summoning every ounce of courage, I decided it was time to break free from my silent admiration. After all, how could I ever know if there was a chance for something more if I didn't try? I approached him after class, my palms sweating with nervous anticipation.

"Hey, Hao, right?" I mustered a smile, hoping it didn't come off as awkward. "I'm (Y/n), we're in the same class."

His warm brown eyes met mine, and a friendly grin lit up his face. "Yeah, (Y/n)! I've seen you around. What's up?"

I stumbled through some small talk, feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Hao, true to his nature, was easy to talk to. We discussed classes, hobbies, and before I knew it, we were laughing about something silly.

Days turned into weeks of this routine – shared conversations, stolen glances, and an ever-growing bond. Yet, despite our connection, I couldn't shake the uncertainty about his feelings. Sometimes, he'd look at me with a gaze that hinted at something more, while other times, his friendliness seemed to extend to everyone equally.

As our friendship blossomed, so did my feelings. I found myself yearning for more, caught in the delicate dance of teenage emotions. The question lingered in the air like an unspoken secret: Did Zhang Hao feel the same way, or was I merely another friend in his life?

Summer break felt like an eternity. I scrolled through my social media feed, catching glimpses of Hao's life through the snippets he shared online. As the days turned into weeks, I told myself that the infatuation I harbored for him would dissipate with time. After all, how could a crush survive the absence of its subject?

But as I walked through the school doors on the first day of the second year, my heart betrayed my rational thoughts. There he was, Zhang Hao, with that infectious smile that could light up the darkest room. It had been weeks since I'd seen him, yet the sight of him ignited a familiar flutter in my chest.

"Hey, (Y/n)!" Hao's voice reached me, and I turned to find him approaching with that trademark friendliness. "How was your summer?"

"Oh, it was good," I stammered, attempting to sound casual while my heart raced. "Yours?"

He animatedly shared tales of his summer adventures, and I couldn't help but hang on to every word. The casual conversations continued, and we fell back into the rhythm of friendship as if the break had never happened.

Throughout the second year, Hao and I became inseparable. We shared inside jokes, studied together, and attended school events as a pair. It felt like a dream, and yet, my heart couldn't escape the reality that lurked beneath the surface. The more time we spent together, the deeper my feelings for him grew.

One day, as we sat in the library, surrounded by the hushed whispers of students engrossed in their studies, I mustered the courage to address the elephant in the room. "Hao, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, (Y/n)! Anything," he replied, his eyes sincere.

I hesitated, then blurted out, "Do you ever feel like... I don't know, there's something more between us?"

His brows furrowed slightly, a hint of confusion in his expression. "What do you mean?"

I stumbled through my words, trying to convey the complexity of my emotions. "I mean, sometimes it feels like you might... like me more than just a friend, but then other times, I'm not so sure. Am I reading too much into things?"

Hao's eyes softened, and he sighed. "I never want to lead you on, (Y/n). You're an amazing friend, and I care about you a lot. But..."

"But?" I pressed, my heart pounding in my ears.

"It's just... relationships are complicated, you know? I value our friendship too much to risk losing it."

The words hung in the air, a bittersweet acknowledgment of unspoken feelings. As the school year progressed, our friendship endured, but the tension of unrequited emotions lingered, casting a shadow over the moments we shared.

The awkwardness between Hao and me dissipated with time, like a passing storm leaving behind a clear sky. We fell back into our friendly routine, laughter echoing through the hallways, shared jokes lightening up even the dullest classes. But beneath the surface, a silent struggle persisted.

I couldn't shake the dreams that lingered in the corners of my mind – dreams of a connection that went beyond friendship. The subtle touches and affectionate words from Hao fueled the flame of hope within me, a flame that refused to be extinguished. It was as if he were sending mixed signals deliberately, leaving me suspended in a state of perpetual uncertainty.

Weeks turned into months, and I found myself caught in the paradox of our relationship. Hao was my confidant, the person with whom I shared my hopes and fears, yet I couldn't escape the nagging feeling that I was merely a side character in his story. The warmth of his friendship contrasted with the chill of unspoken truths, creating a delicate balance that threatened to tip at any moment.

One evening, as we sat in his room, surrounded by the soft glow of fairy lights, I couldn't hold back the weight on my chest any longer. "Hao, can I talk to you about something?" I asked, my voice hesitant.

"Of course, (Y/n)." Hao's eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of understanding in his gaze.

"I... I appreciate our friendship, I really do," I began, choosing my words carefully. "But sometimes, it feels like there's something unsaid between us. Am I just imagining things, or is there something more?"

Hao sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I knew this conversation would come eventually. Look, (Y/n), you mean a lot to me. I've never met anyone as special as you, but relationships... they complicate things. I don't want to risk losing you by taking that step."

The words hit me like a wave, crashing over my carefully constructed hopes. I nodded, my heart heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. "I understand," I whispered, a forced smile on my lips.

From that moment, our friendship continued, but a subtle shift had occurred. I navigated the halls of high school, living in Hao's presence yet feeling like a spectator in his life, a character who yearned for a different role in the narrative. The lingering touches and loving words persisted, but their meaning remained elusive, leaving me trapped in a story that seemed to have no clear resolution.

The approaching graduation day hung in the air like a bittersweet melody. Hao and I were both headed to the same university, an exciting prospect that, at the same time, carried an unspoken weight. We had chosen different majors, branching into separate paths that mirrored the growing distance I felt between us.

As we navigated the final months of high school, I couldn't escape the realization that our connection was evolving, not in the direction I had hoped. Hao remained friendly and happy in my presence, yet there was an intangible shift, like the ebb and flow of tides gently pulling us apart. We were heading toward different horizons, and I couldn't ignore the sense that I was becoming a footnote in his story.

The nights became a canvas for my unspoken desires. Each dream painted with hues of his laughter and the warmth of moments we shared. Love songs transformed into a soundtrack that echoed the symphony of my unrequited feelings. I found myself wondering if he ever thought of me, if the thought of our friendship slipping away ever crossed his mind.

The dilemma weighed heavily on my heart – should I persist in preserving the fragments of our friendship, or should I accept the inevitability of becoming a distant memory in his past? It was a question that echoed in the silence of my thoughts, a question with no easy answer.

As we donned our graduation gowns and tossed our caps into the air, I stood at the crossroads of uncertainty. The future stretched before us like an unexplored landscape, and the prospect of clinging to the familiarity of our friendship warred with the ache of unfulfilled longing. The truth was, I wasn't sure if I could continue pretending that my feelings for Hao were just a fleeting chapter of my life.

The decision loomed, and as we hugged in a farewell embrace, the unspoken words lingered in the air. "Keep in touch, (Y/n)," he said, his smile genuine but tinged with the awareness that we were venturing into separate worlds.

As I watched him walk away, disappearing into the crowd of graduates, I grappled with the choice ahead. Should I hold onto the threads of our connection, even if they threatened to unravel, or should I allow myself to become a distant echo in the corridors of his past? The answers remained elusive, shrouded in the uncertainty of the future.

The summer breeze carried with it a sense of change, and as I packed my belongings, preparing to embark on the journey to university, the anticipation of a new chapter in my life consumed my thoughts. Surprisingly, amidst the chaos of preparation, Zhang Hao's name didn't cross my mind even once. It seemed the whirlwind of excitement and nerves had swept away the lingering echoes of unspoken feelings.

The first day at university brought a mix of emotions—nervousness, excitement, and the thrill of new beginnings. Amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, I found myself at the orientation, navigating the maze of information about classes, campus life, and dormitory rules. It was there that I met Jiwoong, a guy a year above me in the same major.

Jiwoong was a striking figure, almost god-like in his appearance. His handsome features were complemented by a warm and welcoming demeanor. He exuded confidence, and as we struck up a conversation, I couldn't help but notice the striking contrast between him and Zhang Hao. Jiwoong's humor was infectious, and in some inexplicable way, he reminded me of Hao, yet there was an undeniable difference.

As the days unfolded, Jiwoong became a reassuring presence in the whirlwind of new experiences. We attended classes together, explored the campus, and shared laughter that echoed through the hallways of the dormitory. It was a friendship that developed effortlessly, as if the universe had orchestrated our meeting to ease the transition into this new phase of life.

In Jiwoong, I found solace and companionship. He made the unfamiliar feel familiar, and his humor became a beacon of light in the occasionally overwhelming landscape of university life. Yet, in the quiet moments before sleep claimed my consciousness, Zhang Hao's face would sometimes flicker in my mind, a ghost of a memory that refused to fade entirely.

The duality of my emotions remained, the past and the present entwined as I navigated the intricacies of university life. Jiwoong was a breath of fresh air, a new chapter unfolding, but the shadow of unspoken feelings and the memories of Zhang Hao lingered like subtle echoes, reminders of a time that felt simultaneously distant and near.

Two months into university, Jiwoong extended an invitation that promised to add a spark of excitement to my freshman experience—an invitation to a party hosted by the upperclassmen. The exclusivity of the event, where freshmen could only attend if invited by someone from the second year or above, fueled my anticipation. I eagerly accepted, thrilled at the prospect of attending my first university party.

As the night of the party approached, a mix of nerves and excitement bubbled within me. What do you wear to a university party? I spent hours deliberating before settling on a cute yet slightly sexy top paired with my favorite pair of jeans. The outfit struck a balance between casual and stylish, and I hoped it conveyed the perfect mix of confidence and approachability.

The night finally arrived, and I stood before the mirror, assessing my appearance with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The top hugged my figure just right, and the jeans accentuated my curves. A hint of nervousness fluttered in my stomach, but I took a deep breath, reminding myself that this was an opportunity to step outside my comfort zone.

Jiwoong arrived in his car, and as I stepped out to join him, a rush of confidence washed over me. His eyes lingered on my outfit, and a genuine compliment escaped his lips, making my heart flutter. The night had an air of possibility, and the sound of laughter and music drifted through the air as we made our way to the party.

The venue buzzed with energy as we entered, the rhythmic beats of the music vibrating through the air. The dim lighting cast a playful ambiance, creating an atmosphere of camaraderie and celebration. Jiwoong guided me through the crowd, introducing me to his friends and fellow students from different majors.

As the night unfolded, the initial nervousness melted away, replaced by the joy of newfound friendships and shared experiences. Jiwoong and I danced, laughed, and immersed ourselves in the vibrant tapestry of university life. The party marked a significant moment in my freshman year, a memorable chapter illuminated by the glow of laughter, music, and the camaraderie that blossomed under the neon lights.

As the music pulsed through the crowded room, Jiwoong and I found ourselves lost in the rhythm, dancing for hours as if time had slowed just for us. The world around us faded into a blur, and for a while, it felt like there was no one else in the room but him and me.

As the DJ transitioned into a more sensual song, the atmosphere shifted. The lights dimmed, casting a soft glow over the dance floor. Jiwoong, with a subtle yet confident move, placed his hand on my waist. The touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I met his gaze, finding a depth of emotion in his eyes that mirrored the unspoken connection we had been building.

In that intimate moment, the distance between us closed. Jiwoong leaned in, and the world around us seemed to vanish. The music became a mere backdrop to the soft, lingering touch of his lips against mine. Time stood still as the kiss unfolded, a gentle exploration of emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface.

The sensation was electrifying, a blend of passion and uncertainty that hung in the air. As the music played on, we pulled away, our eyes meeting in a shared acknowledgment of the uncharted territory we had just entered. The crowded room, the pulsating music, and the whirlwind of the party all faded into the background, leaving us in a suspended moment, caught between the reality of the party and the newfound awareness of something changing between us.

The magical kiss left my heart pounding, and as we broke away, I found myself gazing into Jiwoong's eyes. In that moment, I felt seen in a way I had never experienced before. Confidence surged through me, and the world seemed to sparkle with newfound happiness, especially when Jiwoong's smile hinted at a shared joy.

As he leaned in for another kiss, my anticipation mirrored his. I moved closer, eager to capture the enchantment of the moment. However, just as our lips were about to meet once more, a sudden wave of anxiety washed over me. My eyes, which had been locked onto Jiwoong's, nervously wandered away and landed on a figure standing a few steps behind him.

My heart sank as I registered the familiar face – Zhang Hao. A jolt of panic surged through me, and I instinctively jerked away from Jiwoong. My body, overtaken by the unwelcome anxiety of the unexpected encounter, left me caught between the joy of the present and the shadows of the past.

Jiwoong, sensing the abrupt shift in my demeanor, gazed at me with a questioning expression. Confusion flickered in his eyes as he sought to understand the sudden change. "Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

My eyes flickered between Jiwoong and Zhang Hao, torn between the conflicting emotions that swirled within me. "I... I just saw someone I know," I stammered, attempting to mask the unease that gripped me.

Jiwoong turned to follow my gaze, his eyes narrowing as he noticed Hao standing a few steps away. The atmosphere shifted, and an unspoken tension settled between us. Jiwoong's gaze returned to mine, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. The weight of the unspoken past hung in the air, leaving me grappling with the unexpected collision of two worlds that, until that moment, had existed in separate realms of my life.

As Zhang Hao walked closer, his gaze locked onto mine, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions enveloped me. It had been months since we last saw each other, and there he stood, seemingly better than ever. His appearance was impeccable, as always, but the usual bright smile that adorned his lips was notably absent, replaced by an unfamiliar frown.

The air thickened with an unspoken tension as Hao stopped in front of me. His eyes, once warm and inviting, now carried a hint of hurt and confusion. "Hey, (Y/n)," he greeted, the words tinged with a touch of uncertainty.

"Hi, Hao," I replied, my voice betraying the mixture of emotions that churned within me. The unexpected reunion intensified the unease that had settled over me since our eyes first met.

Jiwoong, sensing the weight of the situation, glanced between Hao and me. The atmosphere around us became charged with an unspoken history, a narrative that seemed to transcend time and space. As Hao continued to gaze at me, a thousand unspoken words lingered between us.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he finally spoke, his tone carrying a subtle undercurrent of emotion.

"Yeah, well, things change," I replied, attempting to keep my voice steady despite the turmoil within.

Hao's frown deepened, and for a moment, the silence hung in the air like a heavy cloud. The energy shifted, and I found myself caught between the past and the present, torn between the familiar warmth of our shared history and the uncertainty of the future. As the party continued around us, the reunion with Zhang Hao marked a pivotal moment, a collision of worlds that forced me to confront the complexities of emotions that lingered beneath the surface.

As Zhang Hao requested a private conversation, Jiwoong, sensing the tension, intervened with a cautious inquiry. "Are you sure about this, (Y/n)? Everything okay?" he asked, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

I hesitated for a moment, torn between the desire to address the unresolved emotions with Hao and the potential impact on my budding connection with Jiwoong. "Yeah, I'll be okay. Let's meet up again in 15 minutes," I assured Jiwoong, sensing his reluctance but also his respect for my decision.

Reluctantly, Jiwoong agreed, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before he disappeared back into the pulsating energy of the party. I followed Hao outside, the cool night air a stark contrast to the warmth and intensity of the party.

Once we were alone, the atmosphere thickened with unspoken emotions. Hao's gaze bore into mine, and with a tinge of anger, he demanded, "Who was that guy, (Y/n)?"

I took a deep breath, the weight of the past and the present converging in that moment. "His name is Jiwoong. We met here at university. He's a friend," I explained, choosing my words carefully.

Hao's expression shifted between frustration and confusion. "A friend? That didn't look like just friendship back there," he remarked, his voice tinged with an edge of bitterness.

"We're just friends," I insisted, feeling the need to defend the newfound connection with Jiwoong.

Hao's gaze softened, and a hint of hurt crossed his features. "I didn't expect to see you with someone else, especially like that," he admitted, his vulnerability breaking through the façade of anger.

The complexity of emotions hung in the air as we navigated the delicate dance of addressing the unspoken history between us. The reunion outside the party became a confrontation of feelings, a moment where the past and the present collided in a tangled web of unresolved emotions.

The anger surged through me, an intense wave that broke the surface of composed emotions. "Maybe I wouldn't be here with someone else if you had given us a chance, or done something, months, even years ago!" The words burst forth from my lips, carrying the weight of pent-up frustration and unspoken feelings.

Hao's eyes widened momentarily, as if taken aback by the force of my words. Then, a mix of emotions flickered across his face – surprise, guilt, and a touch of defensiveness. "What are you talking about, (Y/n)? We were friends," he responded, his tone tinged with a hint of confusion.

I took a step closer, my frustration refusing to be contained. "Friends? Is that all you ever wanted us to be, Hao?" I shot back, my voice sharp with the sting of disappointment. "You never made a move?, never showed any sign that you wanted more? Hao, you constantly kept leaning in, saying loving things, touches that seemed like more than something you would give to just a friend,"

Hao's brows furrowed, and a subtle tension hung in the air as we faced each other in the dimly lit space outside the party. "I... I didn't want to ruin our friendship," he admitted, his gaze dropping to the ground.

"Ruin our friendship? Do you know how much it hurt, watching you send me mixed signals, never knowing where I stood with you?" I continued, my frustration fueling the words that poured out. "I waited, Hao. I waited for a sign, for anything, but it never came."

He looked up, and the vulnerability in his eyes momentarily softened the edges of my anger. "I didn't realize you felt that way," he confessed, a touch of regret in his voice.

"Of course you didn't. Because the two times I asked you if we were more than friends, wasn't clear enough?" I retorted, the bitterness of unspoken words hanging heavily between us. "Now, seeing you upset because I'm with someone else – it's too little, too late."

Hao's expression hardened, a mix of frustration and realization. "So, what? You've moved on just like that?" he questioned, the hurt evident in his eyes.

"I had to," I replied, my voice quieter but no less resolute. "I can't keep waiting for something that might never happen."

The silence that followed was heavy with the weight of unspoken regrets, a poignant reminder of the complexities that had driven a wedge between us. As the argument lingered in the night air, the echoes of our words carried the unresolved emotions that had defined our relationship, leaving us standing in the shadows of what could have been.

The heaviness of the argument lingered, settling like an unwelcome weight on my shoulders. In the midst of the tension, I found a moment of clarity, and the words spilled out, each one laden with the pain of unspoken truths.

"I silently begged for you to love me," I admitted, my voice a fragile whisper in the night. "I wanted it so badly, Hao, yet I knew deep down that it could never happen. You made that clear. But I stayed, and I tried because I loved you, and you gave me hope, even though you hurt me each time."

Hao's eyes, a mix of regret and realization, met mine. The vulnerability that flickered in his gaze didn't erase the years of heartache, but it spoke to a shared history that neither of us could escape.

"Now that I'm finally happy, when I finally found someone who makes me smile and who likes me back, you suddenly want me?" I continued, my frustration and disbelief underscoring each word. "I can't keep living in the shadows of what could have been, Hao. I deserve to be happy, too."

He took a step forward, a plea in his eyes. "I didn't realize how much you meant to me until now," he confessed, his voice tinged with remorse.

I shook my head, tears threatening to spill. "You had your chance, Hao. I can't keep holding on to what might be. Jiwoong... he makes me happy. He sees me, he wants to be with me, and he doesn't keep me hanging in uncertainty. For once, I'm not living in the shadow of someone,"

Hao's expression shifted, a mixture of understanding and regret. "I messed up, (Y/n). I should have been more honest, more open about my feelings. But it's not too late, is it?"

I took a step back, the space between us filled with the weight of the past and the present. "It's too late for us, Hao. I can't go back to the pain and uncertainty. I've moved on, and I need to see where this new path takes me."

As I turned away, the echoes of our shared history lingered in the air, a poignant reminder of the choices that had shaped our journey. The tears that had been held back finally escaped, a mix of sorrow for what could have been and relief for the possibility of a new beginning.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I met Jiwoong's gaze. His eyes reflected concern, and then anger as he directed his attention toward Hao. Jiwoong wasted no time, sensing my vulnerability. Without a word, he removed his jacket and gently draped it over my shoulders, his protective gesture providing both warmth and comfort.

As the jacket enveloped my frame, I became acutely aware of the chill in the night air. The contrast between the cold reality of the situation and the warmth offered by Jiwoong's gesture highlighted the emotional tumult I was experiencing.

Hao, standing a few steps away, observed the exchange with a mix of regret and realization. The tension between the three of us lingered in the air, a tangible force that underscored the complexities of the moment.

Jiwoong, still wearing the anger on his face, spoke in a calm yet firm tone. "I think it's best if we go back inside," he suggested, his gaze never leaving Hao. With a protective arm around me, Jiwoong led the way, leaving the unresolved emotions of the confrontation behind us.

The jacket draped over my shoulders, a physical manifestation of Jiwoong's care, brought a soothing sense of reassurance. The warmth of the fabric, combined with Jiwoong's steady presence, provided a shield against the emotional storm that had unfolded outside.

As we returned to the party, the night continued, but the encounter with Hao lingered in the background. The jacket served as a tangible reminder of the protective embrace I had found in Jiwoong, and as we navigated through the pulsating music and laughter, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the newfound warmth that had entered my life.

Jiwoong led me into a quiet corner, concern etched across his face. "Do you want to talk about what happened out there?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine care.

I took a deep breath, the weight of the recent encounter with Zhang Hao lingering in the air. "Yeah, I think I should," I replied, appreciating Jiwoong's willingness to navigate the complexities of the moment.

As we found a secluded spot away from the pulsating rhythm of the party, Jiwoong's eyes met mine, awaiting an explanation. "Who is Zhang Hao?" he inquired gently.

I hesitated for a moment before deciding to open up. "He's someone from my past, Jiwoong. We were friends, but it was complicated. I had feelings for him, and it never really went anywhere. Tonight was unexpected, and I just needed to confront some unresolved emotions," I explained, my voice carrying the weight of the unspoken history.

Jiwoong listened attentively, his expression understanding. "I appreciate you sharing that with me. You don't have to face these things alone," he reassured, his hand reaching for mine.

As his fingers intertwined with mine, I felt a sense of comfort. The honesty between us became a bridge, connecting the past with the present. The quiet corner, once filled with uncertainty, transformed into a space where two people navigated the complexities of their histories, laying the foundation for a shared narrative yet to unfold.

In the quiet corner, as Jiwoong's understanding gaze held mine, he leaned in once more. His hand cradled my cheek, a gentle touch that felt like a reassurance in the midst of emotional echoes. Our lips met again in a soft, lingering kiss, a shared moment that spoke of comfort and connection.

I kissed him back, the warmth of the embrace dissipating the residual tension from the earlier encounter. In that simple exchange of affection, the unspoken promises of a new beginning emerged, overshadowing the shadows of the past. The quiet corner became a sanctuary where two hearts, entwined in the dance of shared emotions, found solace in the language of a kiss.

As our lips parted, a subtle blush painted my cheeks. Jiwoong, with a playful glint in his eyes, smiled at me. "Guess I needed that second kiss I didn't get earlier," he remarked, his tone light and teasing.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his playful comment, the tension from earlier dissipating further. Jiwoong's easygoing nature and sense of humor added a layer of comfort to the moment, turning what could have been an emotionally charged night into a shared experience filled with laughter and newfound connections.

Feeling a sense of vulnerability, I knew I needed clarity about where Jiwoong stood in this evolving connection. The fear of uncertainty, born from past experiences, gnawed at the edges of my emotions. Sensing my unease, Jiwoong looked into my eyes with a reassuring understanding.

"You're not alone in this, (Y/n)," he said, his voice carrying a genuine sincerity. "I don't want you to feel like you're in the dark about us."

Relief washed over me at his words, and before I could articulate my concerns, Jiwoong easily erased the lingering fear. With a soft smile, he took my hand in his and said, "How about we make this official? Will you be my girlfriend?"

His simple yet heartfelt question dissolved the lingering uncertainties, replacing them with a warmth that blossomed in my chest. I met his gaze, and with a smile of my own, I nodded. "Yes, Jiwoong. I would love that." The weight of the past began to lift, and in that moment, a new chapter unfolded, marked by shared laughter, understanding, and the promise of a connection that held the potential to rewrite the narrative of my heart.

Later in the night, as the party's lively atmosphere began to wind down, (Y/n) and Jiwoong, the new couple that had emerged from the emotional whirlwind, prepared to leave. Amidst the fading music and the soft glow of fairy lights, Zhang Hao found Jiwoong standing alone, a somber expression on his face.

Approaching with a heavy heart, Hao took a moment before speaking, "Take care of (Y/n), Jiwoong." His words carried a weight of unspoken regret and acceptance, acknowledging the changing dynamics of the night.

Jiwoong, unfazed by the gravity of the moment, responded with a smug confidence that echoed through the dimly lit space. "I already am."

The words hung in the air, a subtle yet impactful exchange that marked a shift in the narrative. It turned out that Zhang Hao was the side character in (Y/n)'s story, and not the other way around. The realization settled over Hao with a quiet poignancy, as he watched (Y/n) and Jiwoong make their way toward the exit, their intertwined fingers reflecting a newfound connection that had taken center stage in (Y/n)'s journey.

As the door closed behind them, Zhang Hao remained in the fading echoes of the party, a character whose significance had been redefined. The narrative had evolved, and in the quiet aftermath, he stood as a silhouette in the background, a part of (Y/n)'s past but no longer a defining chapter in her story.

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ucanji20 · 2 years

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appleflavoredkitkats · 1 year

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don't support here lies love the musical as it comes to bway

my post on here lies love is getting rounds and while i still stand by everything i said on that post, my grievances with the musical has Grown in the last couple of weeks of me researching about it. granted, i still need to do more— i want to do an essay on it in the future because i would hate for it to run on broadway for long, but because that takes time, i thought, at least, i would need to make a post detailing what i find wrong about this musical. even if it's not the most comprehensive, i want more people to be informed about it as soon as possible.

so, have this. ramblings at 5am. i'll try my best to gather sources, but information i have regarding the marcoses comes from a lot of non-digital resources like classes, museums, and physical books. in this case, i recommend the following resources to learn more about who the marcos family is and what they did:

"the kingmaker" by lauren greenfield. native filipinos can watch this free on youtube, but if you aren't from the ph i recommend using a vpn to access it or find a pirated version somewhere else

online martial law museum

if you can buy it, "some are smarter than others" by ricardo manapat, a book detailing marcos' crony capitalism and all his faults

i'd also like to preface: i am not a saint. i am not a historian nor the smartest person who can detail everything marcos did when he was born. i'm trying to do my best with what i know, and i am down to learn more if others want to chime in.

lastly, here's a fresher on the names of people involved, because it can be confusing:

ferdinand marcos — i will try my best calling him ferdinand but most people, including myself, often call him just "marcos" despite the fact that they technically all are marcoses. he was the president from 1965-1986

imelda marcos — i will refer to her as imelda. wife to ferdinand and contributed a lot to his reign of terror. she is still alive today.

bong bong marcos — son of ferdinand and imelda. his name is often shorted to bbm, which i will use. he is currently the present of the philippines

ninoy aquino — marcos' main rival who he indirectly murdered. not a perfect guy tho, just the lesser evil. i will just call him ninoy

now, onto the real deal:

thesis statement, so this can be easy to follow: despite the intentions of the musical being anti-marcos, much of how it is written and presented will inevitably become propaganda to brighten the image of the marcoses. by putting imelda in the forefront, making her entire character do what she does supposedly out of love, audiences will come out of the theatre sympathizing with her and her family. not only is this politically dangerous, but it is incredibly insensitive to native filipinos who have not only gone through the struggle of martial law, but also is suffering through bbm's presidency today.

[rest of the post under the cut]

despite what a lot of criticisms claim, the intentions of the musical is not to be pro-marcos. this is stated in their instagram post:

david bryne also stated these in an article from the guardian:

"The mindset of the Marcos regime and the mindset of disco music to me doesn’t seem all that distant. The hedonistic, escapist feeling of losing yourself and being transported to another world, like you feel on the dance floor and like you feel in a dance club, that’s a means to divorce yourself from the rest of the world, just as Imelda did.

When you’re dancing, you’re in this psychological and sonic bubble, in the same way that powerful people create a bubble around themselves. So I wanted to give an audience a taste of that feeling.

In the first half, when the play is dealing with her childhood, her upbringing and her meeting with Ferdinand Marcos, it’s meant to get the audience to empathise with her and understand what’s driving her and then they’ll understand how that manifests later on."

so, it seems promising: an anti-marcos musical that will make audiences dislike empathizing with her. initially, i really liked the concept of audiences being lost with the music similar to how the marcoses were able to play a lot of their supporters.

but, and a big but, 1.) there's a lot to pick apart from these statements, and 2.) i fucking despise how they presented imelda in the musical.

let's discuss the first point: the instagram post details that the intent of the musical is to dispel disinformation created about the marcoses. first thing's first, if this truly was a musical that aims to educate, then broadway is probably the worst way to do it. while the west and native filipinos could share the award of most misinformed about the marcoses, native filipinos are the ones most affected by it. we just suffered a terrible election last year with constant speculation and reports of vote buying. i've heard accounts from people from the province that bbm would send representatives to bribe those in poverty to ensure a vote. we are suffering in the worst education crisis, with the most corrupt politicians you can think of.

so, if this musical aims to educate, the fact that you can only access it by viewing it live on broadway is incredibly... backwards. how are you opting to dispel information when those most affected can't even access it?

what's worse is the statement that says that modern history of the philippines cannot be told without the usa. it is such a patronizing, surface-level statement that gets my blood boiling. it is true that our histories and present-day contexts are intertwined, especially since the filipino diaspora in the usa is incredibly huge, but that's because this is all a product of american colonization + imperialism. stating like the philippines owes the usa to retell our native stories mirrors much of the savior complex-esque sentiments the usa had when they colonized us.

now, onto bryne's statement. the main problem i have with it is him insinuating that imelda is a victim of circumstance. he wants us the audience "empathize" with her and understand her downfall. this is common rhetoric uninformed people, even filipinos, used to excuse imelda's contributions. that she was supposedly "poor", that marcos put her through hell. but genuinely, and i cannot emphasize this enough, imelda was an absolute ass on her own accord.

no, she did not grow up poor. her wikipedia even states that she grew up in a wealthy family, born into the romualdez political dynasty. my history professor even claimed that she attempted bribing the mayor when she lost one of her beauty pageants. despite the repetitive "i'm doing this for love!" bullshit the musical regurgitates, imelda did not even marry marcos out of love. in ricardo manapat's book, he details how marcos attempted to swoon imelda by showing her his vault of money (of course, possibly stolen). she was enraptured by marcos the moment she saw his WEALTH.

i want to emphasize: imelda is not fucking stupid. much of what marcos did to the philippines was thanks to her. i would recommend watching the kingmaker documentary for all the details, but just know she is still alive and incredibly wealthy. she is well-known for her absolute gaudiness and all of that comes from her money-centric mindset. she does not give a shit about love.

here's some accounts by ricardo manapat from his book. on imelda falling in love with marcos (btw, she had a fiance at the time and didn't tell him she was marrying marcos until said fiance found out on the damn newspaper):

imelda being aware of the wealth she accumulates in politics:

on this note, i'd love to discuss how historically inaccurate the musical is. i'd like to preface that i've only listened to the only available version of the musical which is the 2013 version on spotify. this could have changed, but either way, the general tone of the narrative already reads to me as extremely incorrect, anyway. i'd also love to detail every discrepancy of each song, but again, i'll save that for a future essay.

in general, the musical's plotline follows imelda, a "humble and poor" girl from leyte who grows up and marries ferdinand. she repeatedly expresses she's doing this all out of love. thus, the musical insinuates that imelda is merely a victim of circumstance, and that she didn't become evil on her own accord. and yet, from what i've presented so far, she was very much aware! she was not passive. you have to understand, SHE was the reason both men and women had equal opportunities to become corrupt in our government.

what marcos did was also imelda's fault. the genocide and displacement of indigenous people, the mass torture and murder of journalists and politicians, the stealing of companies and mass wealth, the mass delivery of non-native animals to the philippines. she condoned all that. yes, marcos cheated on her, but she also used that as a means to manipulate him into doing whatever she wanted. they are both horrible people.

speaking of, marcos' song in the musical was also really bad. he could be written as lying for all we know, but his "fear" of japanese soldiers invading the philippines is also up for debate. there is speculation of the marcoses collaborating with japanese troops, which also led to the murder of marcos' father's political rival.

and while i don't know if there's actual dialogue outside of the songs, i don't think this musical actually informs us much of the marcos' faults. the songs, which will be the most accessible thing to native filipinos, express nothing but generic descriptions of what characters feel about certain situations. it's hard to understand or know what these people are actually doing because it's just so vague and ambiguous. how are you supposed to inform when none of the music details, well, anything? the information given is so minimal that i pray, at least, the musical would have more explicit scenes about marcos' atrocities.

and that's my main problem with the musical. with how much they spend sympathizing with imelda in the first act, i don't think everything the marcoses have done can be encapsulated in the second. of course, i'm not asking to give me a detailed rundown of everything they did, but let's be honest, this musical was never about dispelling disinformation. if it was, then they wouldn't spend an entire act and a half sucking imelda's dick. it's not about educating audiences about martial law. it's about humanizing imelda, with martial law and the marcoses' atrocities as a second priority. it makes me sick to my stomach seeing how pure imelda is presented when travelling to meet other world leaders, or how she's seen as the person who insisted that ninoy move away from the philippines.

it was never about education or re-information. in the end, these were such pretentious and performative statements to defend a historically inaccurate musical.

and tbh, that's just the tip of the iceberg of why i hate this musical. another thing is that, holy shit is it obvious that it's written by two white people. they mispronounce "tacloban" (should be tacLOban not tacloBAN). these characters are also just... not distinctly filipino? they're so white in mannerisms. i need more insulting humor, more grit. in fairness, the richer you are in the philippines the more connected you are to western culture, but i would have loved to see that disaparity more in the songwriting. they really peaked (/s) when they wrote these lyrics:

this is... awful, in a cringey what the hell manner. i hope they changed it for the bway production, because this was blatant evidence that the songwriters barely took the time to understand our culture before writing.

if you don't understand what it says, "titi mo" (the correct spelling is tite but i digress) means "your dick". i think imelda is trying to call marcos a dick, but they literally translated dick in tagalog. but tite isn't an insult, it literally refers to a penis. "mo" is the equivalent of "your" which also makes ZERO sense. the lyric literally goes "how can a your penis run the country?", like WHAT.

so you know, maybe there's a reason why many filipinos fucking despise this show on twitter. we are insulted for good reason. they are sensationalizing and glamorizing our suffering for their own gain. we native filipinos and other filipino diaspora who can't access the show have nothing to gain. here lies love is profiting from our struggles that we are still recovering from and experiencing today. imagine if you made a musical about hitler explaining he is a victim of circumstance to disco music. insensitive, isn't it? i'd love to ask the cast of here lies love if they'd ever show the musical to living survivors and families of victims of martial law.

and what's worse, because of course it gets worse, misinformation like this is what boosts the reputation of corrupt politicians in the first place. manapat quotes what leonard saffir wrote about how marcos built his reputation in new york via a biography filled with disinformation. the excerpt is too long but it's quoted from this article by the new york times. and now we are living in an era of another musical based on imelda being shown in new york — time is a flat fucking circle.

what sickens me is that this musical is possibly a lot of americans' first exposure to the marcoses, and what will they think? imelda is just a poor girl, imelda is just a victim, imelda is blah blah blah. that will be stamped in their head. even if some filipinos have come out of this musical dreadful that they sympathized with imelda, not everyone is gonna have the same experience.

^ this an excerpt from one of theatermania's articles. dictators have feelings too, i guess!

objectively, there is nuance when it comes to anyone. but the problem is, we cannot afford to consider nuance in politics. we cannot sympathize with imelda right now when people are dying of poverty under the marcoses' hand. the marcoses are very much alive, very much in power, and very much willing to lend their offspring to other positions of power. they turned the entirety of ilocos into a bunch of marcos dicksuckers, and i'm afraid that this musical can make a ton of their audiences be oblivious to the true extents of the marcos' atrocities. i'm already seeing people on tiktok say that there's nothing wrong about this musical, or that this can exist when miss saigon and evita exist (which in on itself are problematic beliefs, because they are glamorizing other country's sufferings too).

i am privileged enough to be educated about marcos, and while there is much to be done in terms of disability and lgbtqia+ rights, i am lucky to be less impacted by the marcoses compared to other people. but there are hundreds of thousands of filipinos severely affected by marcos. what's worse, is that there are plenty extremely uneducated that they are unaware that marcos is directly contributing to their suffering. my history professor told us that other countries are using the philippines as their model for successful disinformation campaigns. in this era of disinformation, we cannot afford to disinform even more. as sad as it is, the usa has a lot of power and control over the philippines (and the world, tbh), so one wrong step into the wrong direction and we're fucked. this musical fails the message it attempts to preach and i cannot imagine how much more people are going to spread misinformation about the philippines like they did during the 2022 elections.

to end off, i'd like to mention to everyone that imelda marcos has actually listened to the musical. in this new york times article, she says, "i'm flattered, i can't believe it!". i don't know what to tell you— if imelda herself says she likes the musical you claim to be anti-marcos, then what does that say about the musical?

i guess i'll end with, i am willing to change opinions once i see how the musical is being executed. if they emphasize the atrocities done by marcos and give proper information about the timeline of events, then i can be more lenient. but if i still see any attempts woobifying imelda, then i stand by what i say. this musical is insensitive, disrespectful, and just fucking hurtful.

#here lies love #imelda marcos #ferdinand marcos #bongbong marcos

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thesoftgirlguide · 5 days

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A Guide to Staying Motivated 🩰𓈒⋆⑅˚₊୨୧

How to Enjoy Your Fitness Journey

I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather so I haven’t been working out as much. Starting a fitness journey can be both exciting and challenging. I hate the idea of taking a long break because I know how easy it is to break that habit. It’s always difficult to go back once my body is getting used to not doing it.

As a girl, you might face unique obstacles, but with the right mindset and strategies, you can stay motivated and enjoy the process. Now, I’ll explore practical tips I use and will be using (when I feel better) to help me stay on track.

╰┈➤ Set Clear Goals

Before you lace up your sneakers, take a moment to define your fitness goals. What do you want to achieve? Is it weight loss? muscle gain? improved endurance? or overall health? Having clear objectives will give you direction. Write down your goals and break them into smaller, achievable steps. Celebrate each milestone along the way to keep your motivation high.

╰┈➤ Find an Activity You Love

Fitness doesn’t have to mean slogging away on a treadmill if that’s not your thing. Explore different activities until you find something you genuinely enjoy. I personally enjoy pilates. Yours could be dancing, swimming, hiking, yoga, or weightlifting. When you’re passionate about what you’re doing, it won’t feel like a chore. Plus, you’ll be more likely to stick with it.

╰┈➤ Create a Support System

Surround yourself with positive influences. Connect with like-minded individuals who share your fitness goals. Join fitness classes, online communities, or find a workout buddy. Having someone to share your journey with can boost motivation and make the process more enjoyable. Encourage each other, celebrate achievements, and lift each other up during setbacks.

╰┈➤ Mix It Up

Variety is the spice of life, and it applies to fitness too. Don’t get stuck in a monotonous routine. Try different workouts, switch up your exercises, and explore new fitness trends. Cross-training not only prevents boredom but also challenges your body in different ways. Attend a dance class one day, lift weights the next, and go for a run on another. Keep things interesting!

╰┈➤ Track Your Progress

Seeing progress is incredibly motivating. Keep a fitness journal or use an app to track your workouts, measurements, and how you feel. Celebrate improvements, whether it’s lifting heavier weights, running a faster mile, or feeling more energized. Progress may be gradual, but every step counts.

╰┈➤ Reward Yourself

Set up a reward system for achieving your fitness goals. Treat yourself to something special when you hit a milestone. It could be a new workout outfit, a massage, or a guilt-free dessert. Rewards reinforce positive behavior and give you something to look forward to.

╰┈➤ Focus on Non-Scale Victories

While weight loss is a common fitness goal, remember that it’s not the only measure of success. Pay attention to non-scale victories too. Maybe you’re sleeping better, feeling more confident, or noticing improved flexibility. Celebrate these wins—they matter just as much!

╰┈➤ Practice Self-Compassion

We all have off days, and that’s okay. Don’t beat yourself up if you miss a workout or indulge in a treat. Show yourself kindness and understanding. Remember that consistency over time matters more than occasional slip-ups. Be your own biggest cheerleader.

╰┈➤ Visualize Your Success

Close your eyes and imagine yourself achieving your fitness goals. Visualize the strong, confident, and healthy version of yourself. This mental rehearsal can boost motivation and keep you focused on the bigger picture.

╰┈➤ Enjoy the Journey

Lastly, remember that fitness is a journey, not a destination. Embrace the process, learn from setbacks, and celebrate every step forward. Enjoy the endorphin rush after a workout, relish the feeling of accomplishment, and appreciate the amazing things your body can do.

Stay motivated, stay positive, and keep moving toward your best self. You’ve got this, girl!

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡ ˚ ˚ ༘

Disclaimer: Always consult with a healthcare professional before starting any new fitness program.

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marthammasters · 4 months

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@revenge-of-the-assbutt @firstaidspray @sachermorte thank u for enabling me NEWAY since I’ve been too dead to do any of my own hobbies here’s some thoughts on House & Co’s physical hobbies/lil crafts & such they do in the comfort of their home<3:

House: canonically does a ton of shit like piano/guitar/cooking/so on but In the spirit of him resisting change (At Times!) I think he’s gotten very good if not makes a fun time out of mending clothes🥺…. Didn’t wanna throw away his favorite shirts so it started w small hems+resizings until he looked up more tips online and get decorative w it. Pretty contrasting colors/patterns now randomly laid on his shirts and pants w only the careful eye(Cuddy+Wilson) to notice. If anyone cares

Wilson: gardening. Well as much one can do within his apartments/pretty nonplant friendly homes. He’s not a super greenthumb expert but it always gives him a lil confidence boost when he’s able to grow out spices and herbs & such to use in his cooking ♥️

Cuddy: she seems like a collage-making kind of girlie💗💗 no specific theme in em or anything but she still holds onto the potential self-aid of making vision boards and it’s relaxing for her to go thru magazines/etc + cut out whatever interests her enough to use. Rachel tries and cutely fails to help 💓💓💓

Chase: ironically enough for the prodigal son lol but . He genuinely seems like someone who enjoys spending time in silence/music doing puzzles w 1000+ pieces & such #DWEEB❤️. House once got him a 5000 piece puzzle of a kangaroo or w/e as a joke and he is Determined to complete it. In due time chase…

Foreman: the thought of Foreman crocheting is so dear to me….. he doesn’t rly tell anyone ab it but there’s a lot of half-finished + worn projects as proof around his home. #angsting it sorry but I think he took it up after his mom started deteriorating bc she crocheted too and it was a fonder reminder + sumn they could do together. One yr he gave the fellow ducklings scarves he made as Xmas gift. Not that he told him he made it tho😅#repressed

Cameron: I think she has a moderately sized zen garden on a table somewhere in her home she takes SERIOUS. Changes the lines/circles in the sand periodically, sees what new arrangement of rocks she can do etc etc. Girl that thing is meant to be relaxing!! also colorcodes/sticker-covers/etc her planner like a CHAMP.

Amber: she has the most well-detailed prettiest most concerning-when-read journal/diary everrrr. Dedicates a specific time in every day to it w specific pens of various colors. Some of the recounting even have lil doodles or if she takes the journal out w her she draws her view wherever she is<3 they’re literal chickenscratch but its still fun and fulfilling. It’s a bibleesque piece to Wilson’s Amber shrine btw

Thirteen: she’s hard to analyze for me soz 13heads I do love her #trust… nonetheless I bet she goes to hella dance classes. Partially for the exercise partially for the fun partially for the need to experience Life partially for the women. Heh. She’s rly into zumba, jazz, contemporary classes to be specific.

Taub: ok ok so remember when he did/bought pottery or w/e to convince his wife he was being faithful. I think he’d do it for real as a joke/alibi then be like wait…. This is kinda fun…? There’s no constraints to what he can make + the sculpting reminds him vaguely of plastic surgery work so he keeps it up.

Kutner: I think he draws + writes his own lil comics/zines 🫶 they’re mostly scifi or superhero and more than a lil inspired by his fave preexisting medias . He likes using the crazy cases he’s experienced w House as story inspo. Also he 4 sure runs dnd campaigns so well and fun. Btw

Masters: she’s a suckerrrr for trivia nights my lil nerd wife<3 but um anyway when she wants to relax she Really doesn’t want sumn that can become info overload so in free time she’ll make friendship bracelets, lil shapes/figures out of string, etc. Will someone please give this woman a full on loom to go cray with!!!!

Park: I can see it so clearly . I can see her lil handpainted warhammer and other tabletop game figures so perfectly in my head. She paints more than she actually plays(but she does !). God save you if you touch or tumble them.

Adams: I kinda DGAF about her sorry women… hmm there’s sumn compelling ab her doing blackout poetry plus occasionally full-on written when the inspo hits! started as a boredom thing in her job in the prison w whatever book she brought in then she kept on doing it w more and more written pieces she comes across.

I put so much time into this. Perhaps too much.😭feel free to gimme y’all’s thoughts on this/ur own ideas :3

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tunabesimpin · 1 year

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🦚 TWST OC MITCHELL INFO 🦚

New oc alert! ^v^ getting more used to painting first and then lining so this came out more detailed than Tunas LOL

BASIC INFO

TAG : #twst Mitchell

Name : Mitchell / Mitty Class : 2-E (Student no. 5) Birthday : July 31st Age: 17 Height : 171 cm Dominant Hand : right Best Subject : Music Hobby : Idol Dislikes : Clutter & tight spaces Favorite Food: Potato Kabob Least Favorite Food : Spaghetti Talents : Dance (Ballet Specific)

Quick Summary: Mitchell or Mitty, is a micro-celebrity idol. Covering popular songs and trending dances, Mitty is determined to follow his childhood idols footsteps! Even though he couldn't join auditions to be in a group, Mitty has created a good following on his magicam and magitube accounts. As Flamboyant as he is, he still gets shy when complimented or meeting people he looks up to. Overall this peacock beastman is slowly learning step by step how to brainwash everyone to be his fan! (/j... unless?) ^o^

APPEARANCE

A peacock beastman with bright purply-pink hair and eyes. He has an ahoge that is not normal hair, turning blue towards the end. Above his left brow and below his left eye he has beauty marks. His overall body type is thin, toned and with hip dips. Very often Mitty applies red eyeshadow and lipstick as well as applying mascara and contact lenses to make his eyes appear larger. He has lobe piercings, but rarely wears earrings due to his hair covering or getting tangled easily. As for fashion he prefers deep reds and dark cool colors usually in lolita styles. For more casual looks he prefers loungewear like cardigans and loose pants.

PERSONALITY + BACKGROUND

As a child Mitchell was extremely influenced by anime idols and cute idol groups alike. Going as far as performing his favorite songs and dances in school talent shows. However, his obsession with making the crowd feel "awe-inspired" he often used his UM to his advantage. This didn't do well with many of his teachers and other parents... so surprisingly enough Mitty had many detentions in their early years. This record left him in dim lights for group auditions. Mittys mindset got a bit skewed and began to think... I will just have to try harder to rule the crowd! Overtime their hope to inspire morphed into wanting the world to love him (through mostly any means).

Upon entering NRC Mitchell had begun seeking attention online and decided a "debut concert" was most necessary. After the entrance ceremony Mitty went back to the mirror chamber, set up his phone camera and began to perform one of his favorite routines! Thus started his online career! While he is not as popular as others, he does have a few hundred supporting him and in his mind that's the first step to his domination!

Personality wise, Mitty is pretty dense when it comes to anything besides his interests and doesn't take no for an answer. No literally it will go in one ear out the other. Despite this he does take everything surprisingly seriously, ok not rejection, but everything else! However compliments? He will grin from ear to ear, go red and just absoluetly adore you! He can be a bit clingy when he's like this, but he's just happy some one likes him. When it comes to friendship though... well he's not a terrible friend, but he does tend to only think of himself most of the time... at least he will buy you things to make it up to you;; Just don't ask him for emotional advice too much he really isn't good at it. Overall he's a bit of an annoying person, but his shy and bashful bursts at compliments may be something redeemable.

Academically he is average. He does amazing is music but that's about it, everything else is passing at least. He struggles with history most due to his disinterest in remembering about people who aren't his idols.

In his free time, Mitty practices dance and song covers from his favorite medias. Posting them as often as he records and of course running to Cater for help very often. If they're not doing that, he's grooming his feathers or sewing new outfits. Occasionally he will tour around campus and invade dorms to take photos in his newest creations as well as show them off.

ABILITIES

UM- Focus on me! "Let me show you who's the main star!" -This unique magic allows Mitchell to take on his peacock beast-form. When showing off his beautiful feathers they act as a hypnotizing charm; causing dizziness, crossed vision, and luring people into a trance like state. If used with full force, Mitchell can force the afflicted to follow his movements. -Movement can not be fast or the afflicted will snap out of the trance. -strength of effects depends on the amount of magic used in this UM. Less input and you can expect a simple charm and lull effect, but with heavy input the effects will increase. -Small to medium blot manifestation; long term use at low levels is usually fine, but after a few hours blot formation rate will increase.

RELATIONSHIPS

Relationship chart to be made !

Notable Relationships:

Vil & Mitty : Mitty looks up to Vil and respect him so much! While he isnt into acting, Vils prowess and social media standing are impressive! Mitty is too busy fangirling and stuttering to speak to Vil casually. Vil doesn't seem to mind so long as it doesn't effect his work.

Cater & Mitty : Mitty joined the pop music club and immediately wanted to quit. It was quite contrary to what they expected. Cater and Kalim were quick to talk him into staying. Ever since, Cater has been a big help to Mitty in social media learning and Mitty may have taken to mimicking Caters speech online. Mitty says they're close friends, but Cater only see it as a casual friendship.

Riddle : Currently Mitty is trying to convince Riddle to form an idol duo. Riddle had been one of the first to "compliment" one of his dances, saying "Your dancing nice, however you are trespassing on Heartslaybl property!". Ever since, whenever Mitty visits Cater he doesn't hesitate to try and recruit the house warden. While Riddle does not hate him, he is often dumbfounded by Mittys inability to "read the atmosphere". It is not currently known why Mitty is obsessed beyond the nice comment.

Thanks for reading about Mitchell!! I did not realize until after i made his nickname Mitty that Mitty can mean "a fictional character given to grand and elaborate fantasies" and I think that's very fitting for him LMAOOOO anyways!!! Thank you for the support and time <3 !

#twst mitchell #twisted wonderland #twst #twst oc #twst fanart #twisted wonderland oc

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