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dayenurose · 2 years

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Writer’s Month Prompts (written for @writersmonth )

Day 23 - Lodge (Bughead)

(Note: This story is a (surprise) follow up to Day 19′s story - Bubbles and Single Parent(s). Enjoy.)

“Here you are, Juggie.” Betty joined Jughead on the balcony porch. He appeared deep in thought as he gazed out into the tamed wilderness behind the lodge. She couldn’t help but wonder if the notebook abandoned on the chair had anything to do with his contemplative expression.

Despite the crisp autumnal chill, he looked cozy with a plaid blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a mug of steaming coffee cupped in his hands. Back home, as the weather had cooled, he’d taken to wearing a knitted crown beanie. Apparently, he used to wear the hat all the time before they had met. She found the addition charming.

“Good morning.” Jughead kissed her lightly on lips before turning his attention back to the view. Through a gap in the towering pines, they spied a glimpse of the lake. The sun glinted like diamonds off the gently lapping waves. “How’d you sleep?”

“Gloriously.” Betty carefully balanced her coffee mug along the railing, then reached up, stretching long and lean. The stretch raised the hem of the oversized sweatshirt she’d stolen from Jughead ages ago, revealing a strip of bare skin. His mug-warmed fingers traced chastely along her lower back. Still, she squirmed as the light touch tickled.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded as his touch drifted away and the sweatshirt once again covered her skin.

A smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Later, when the kids aren’t twenty feet away in the living room.”

“Tease.” She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder. Unfortunately, he was right. Jellybean was partaking in her tradition of Saturday morning cartoons. The twins were excited to join in this treat. Betty generally tried to limit the about of screen time the twins had access to, but she couldn’t deny it was nice being able to have a proper lie in while Jellybean and the twins amused themselves for a bit.

Jughead hummed a noncommittal response. “I still can’t believe Veronica just let us borrow this place for the week. It’s like a mansion plopped in the middle of the backwoods. Still feels like it must be a dream or something.”

“As I said last night, welcome to Lodge Lodge. Veronica is generous with her friends. She's offered to let me come up here before, but I've never taken her up on it before now.” Betty sipped her coffee, trying to remember the last time she was here. It definitely wasn't this peaceful. “V used to bring the whole gang up here all the time during high school. We’d have these unsupervised parties and do a bunch of stupid stuff. Nothing too dangerous, I suppose, but you wouldn’t believe the number of headaches and fights which followed us back home after a weekend away.”

Shaking her head, Betty struggled to push aside the melancholy she associated with growing up too fast, which surfaced anytime she reflected too long on her carefree past. “This is the first time I’ve been back here since I got custody of the twins. Suddenly getting drunk and fighting about who stole whose boyfriend felt lest important, you know…”

“Betts, stop.” He press a kiss to the crown of her head. “It’s okay to mourn what you loss. It’s also okay to want things for yourself.”

“I know, I know.” She really did, but sometimes it felt selfish. Selfish to still want that life when she wouldn’t trade being ‘mom’ to the twins for the world. “Do you ever miss what your life could have been?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean I’ve been doing this since I was sixteen, so I didn’t exactly have a normal high school experience. Even if I wasn’t taking care of Jelly, I wasn’t exactly Mr. Popular. No one was going to invite me to the high school dance or weekend parties in the woods.”

Despite herself, Betty laughed. “Not to be all gender norms and stuff, but I think guys are still more likely to ask the girls to the dance.”

“Betts,” he voice dropped to that deep rumble that made her shiver. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her flush against his body. She could feel the thrum of his heartbeat. “You’re the first girl I ever wanted to invite to a dance and I didn’t meet you until recently. So, no, even if I had the opportunity, I wouldn’t have invited another girl to the dance.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you had….” Betty never knew how to respond when he said things like that. He made her feel special, and cherished, and loved by him, but it was also so far from her experiences.

Jughead rested his cheek on top of her head. “I know. Don’t worry about it. I don’t regret any of my decisions. I wouldn’t exchange taking care of Jelly for the world of normal opportunities. Besides, it led me to you. I can’t think of anything better.”

She melted into his embrace. They’d been dating for six months—almost as long as they’d known each other and their lives had almost seamlessly melded together. Suddenly, there was another person in their lives they could depend on. Betty lost track of the times he volunteered to watch the twins while she went to a doctor’s appointment or stayed late for a study session. Likewise, she returned the favor, letting Jellybean stay with her when Jug picked up an extra shift or visited his dad in prison. While they scheduled semi-regular date nights, more often than not, their mutual free evenings were spent together at his or her apartment with all the kids and doing normal family things. Making supper, doing homework, watching moves—that sort of thing.

The twins had quickly taken to Jughead. Following Betty’s example, they called him Juggie. When he was there at bedtime, they begged him to be part of their bedtime routine—reading stories and tucking them in—and were disappointed when he wasn’t there in the morning. Last spring, not long after they started dating, Juni’s pre-school class was having a ‘Daddy-Daughter’ event. Jug hadn’t even blinked when Juni had asked him to come.

On the other hand, Betty wasn’t certain what Jellybean thought of her. While she got along great with the twins—patiently playing with them, reading to them, teaching them new things— Jelly was wary around Betty. Jug’s sister was unfailingly polite and whenever Betty babysat her, the girl seemed to enjoy herself. But, when Jug was around, Jellybean would never talk directly to Betty. She’d always ask Jug first if she wanted something from Betty. He refused to play go-between so Jelly would need to decide between not getting what she wanted or talking to Betty.

“Whatchya thinking about?” Jug broke into her silent reverie.

“Us. Our families. Jelly.” She threaded her fingers between his.

Jughead tensed. She could feel the tension travel through his jaw and down into his arms. “I’m sorry about how she acts. I don’t know what’s gotten into her…”

“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine-fine. But, it’s normal. I’m the new woman in your life. She’s protective of her big brother who’s always so protective of her.” Betty worried at her lower lip for a moment as she decided whether or not to broach the subject. “Juggie, I think she might be worried that if we…well, you know, move forward with our relationship. Get more serious…”

“Betts, I am absolutely serious about you.”

“And I’m serious about you too…” She swatted at his arm. “Now, stop distracting me.”

“Yes ma’am.” He wrapped her arms around her waist and picked her up. She squealed, but didn’t fight as he carried her over to one of the deck chairs and settled her on his lap. “Go on.”

She cuddled up against him and teased at the bit of hair which snuck out from under his beanie. “I was saying, I think Jelly might be afraid that if you get serious about me, you’ll leave her too. Like your mom and dad. So, she’s making certain you know she needs you.”

Jug swore under his breath. “I thought… I was trying…I wanted her to never feel that way. I was hoping she knew that no matter what happens in our lives, I’ll always be there for her.”

“Shh, it’ll be okay Juggie.” Betty pressed her forehead against his. “Deep down she knows. She’s been your world for so long now that she’s needing to learn how to share you. Remember, while you’ve always been there for her, when big life things happen, your parents weren’t. As much as that hurts you, it also hurt her. She needs time to get used to me and to see that things won’t change between you and her.”

“I’ve got a smart girlfriend.” Jug lifted his face and nibbled at her jawline.

Betty laughed as she stretched her neck to give him better access. “Why thank you. And, just so you know, I have an absolutely amazing and caring boyfriend.”

“Do you now?” he mumbled around the kisses he lavished down her neck. Tugging lightly at the neckline of the sweatshirt, he revealed the edge of her collarbone. He pressed a kissed to the spot, sucking slightly in order to leave his mark on her skin.

Everything came to a sudden and hasty stop as the balcony door opened.

“Jug?” Jellybean called.

Betty was thankful that her back was to the door. Between that and her hair, the kids wouldn’t have been able to see what the adults were getting up to. Suddenly, Betty felt a bit like a teenager again, getting caught in a compromising position. She adjusted the neckline of the sweatshirt so everything was covered.

“Breathe,” Jug whispered as he brushed her hair behind her ear. His lingering caress was light and intimate.

Glancing around his girlfriend, Jug waved his sister over. “All done with your cartons?”

“Yeah.” She stayed beside the door, swinging it back and forth. “Um, I’m hungry.”

“Okay, I’ll get you some cereal.” Jughead started to scoot to the edge of the chair. Betty slipped off his lap and started to gather their abandoned coffee mugs.

“Actually, I was wondering,”—Jellybean studied her fingers and picked at a hangnail—“Betty, will you make pancakes?”

“Of course,” Betty couldn’t stop the thousand watt smile breaking out across her face. “I’d love to. Would you like to help?”

Jelly nodded.

“All right, why don’t you head in and wash your hands. I’ll join you in the kitchen in a moment.”

Jughead squeezed her hand, silently sharing the joy of the moment.

“Okay.” Jellybean dashed inside to follow Betty’s instructions.

Following Jelly inside, Jughead and Betty paused in the living room to check on the twins. Though no one was paying attention to the television, the cartoon continued to play. DJ colored while Juni built with Duplos.

“Go on.” Jug turned off the tv. “I’ll keep an eye on the twins.”

“Can you read us a story?” Juni asked. She looked up at him with large hopeful eyes.

“Of course.” Jug settled on the couch and the twins were soon cuddled against his sides, each with a stack of books.

I love you, Betty mouthed silently as Jug settled in the center of the couch. The twins cuddled up at his sides, each with a stack of books.

Jug winked, and returned the sentiments in an equally silent, I love you.

Knowing her kids were in good hands, Betty proceeded to the kitchen on the ground floor. Jellybean had already started to lay out mixing bowls, measuring cups, and a pancake flipper.

“Thanks, that’s very helpful.” Betty set the coffee mugs in the sink as she washed her hands.

Jelly's cheeks colored at the praise. She hesitated a moment before asking shyly, “Can we have blueberry pancakes?”

Neither the twins nor Jughead were fond of blueberry pancakes, so Betty didn’t make them often.

“Certainly. And, I’ll let you in on a secret,” Betty whispered conspiratorially, “they’re my favorite too,”

In Jellybean’s answering grin, Betty saw a trace of Jughead’s mischievous glint. She also noted the acknowledgment in Jelly’s eyes that the girl recognized Betty as ally and an adult she could trust.

Betty’s heart soared. She couldn’t help but think that they were one step closer to becoming a family for keeps.

#writersmonth2022 #fanficition #jughead jones #betty cooper #bughead

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wufflesvetinari · 6 months

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hello! i was blown away by your fantastic astarion/tav fic and this is how i found you, hope that's okay. :) you say dnd is about being a cleric to you, and i was wondering if you'd ever be open to expanding on that? i'm interested in playing a cleric in my next campaign, but i'm a little gunshy

(the fic, for reference)

hi yes hello!! i'm so glad you liked the fic, first of all, i had never written anything quite like it (essentially canon/oc fic. video game fandom is weird. i love it)

secondly i am so glad you've given me an excuse to talk about this!!! i love playing clerics for a few reasons. in order of simplest to most complicated:

1). on a purely mechanical level i love their versatility; that you can both deal heavy damage and protect your friends. i think the existence of Healing Word makes clerics 100x more fun than they would be otherwise, because then you can both attack and heal in the same turn. i am someone who LIKES feeling that responsibility for the party each turn, and feeling like each choice involves sacrifice: thinking through who can make it through the next turn without healing vs. needing it now, whether to remove a status effect (using a full action) or let it wear out, etc. you do get the fun of essentially fireballing your enemies while also doing powerful utility stuff (that plants the seeds for interesting character relationships too imo)

2). god the roleplay potential??? it's so good??? you have a very strong "type" you're playing against: the stereotype of a "person of the cloth" existing makes it twice as fun to be, like, a little nihilistic or a little sexy or a little angry, but always always driven by that core of Belief inside of you. all the better if the belief system doesn't naturally fit with the character's personality, and you have to reconcile those things. it builds someone complex

also like. roleplaying a cleric (or a paladin) is marinating yourself in the midpoint between human fallibility and divine "infallibility," wherein actually sometimes it's the human fallibility that needs to win out over the inflexibility of dogma. it's a bit warlock-y in that you are making decisions both for what the character wants to do and what they feel they MUST do per the voice in their head. but it's still flavored differently because, in theory, the cleric has opted into this for moral/belief reasons! and those reasons get to be challenged or reinforced through the campaign

3). world building! you get to parse out how a belief system works in the day-to-day. rn i have two clerics who are driven by a belief in how they need to ethically act in the world (lash as well as duna, an ornery old lady grave cleric--spoiler, they have very different definitions of "ethical") but also an alien cleric in a homebrew campaign whose gods actually dont give a shit about how he interacts with outsiders because that pantheon’s entire existence is built around protecting and saving one specific alien species. the decisions that cleric makes are going to be extremely different than the first two, but i'm always going to be thinking about how those belief systems affect his actions, and when he pushes back (and how much he is ALLOWED to push back).

ngl the psychological element is twice as interesting to me as someone who grew up in a religious environment. what do i appreciate about that kind of person that could be amplified? what Makes Everything Worse?

anyway i hope some of this was helpful!!

#tabletop monstrosities #bg3 #at its base i just also really really like Wise and Perceptive characters in fiction and that's going to inform my approach #clerics!#my writing

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adamwatchesmovies · 2 years

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Alice Through the Looking Glass (2016)

The initial shock is gone and I must admit that a second time around, I like Alice Through the Looking Glass more. Don’t think this means I recommend it. This is an awful film. It’s so badly written it makes your head hurt.

Several years after the first film, Alice (Mia Wasikowska) puts the single-handed invention of feminism on pause to travel to Underland and help her best friend in the whole world Tarrant Hightopp, the Mad Hatter (Johnny Depp). Unresolved daddy issues have thrown him into a depression so severe he’s turning monochromatic and will probably fall over dead. If Alice can enter the lair of clockwork deity Time (Sacha Baron Cohen) and steal his chronometer, she can travel to the past, save the Hatter’s family, and get the nutty tea drinker out of his lethal funk.

I didn’t think a trip to Wonder/Underland could get worse than the 2010 film. I was underestimating the powers of writer Linda Woolverton (whose animated films have been triumphs and live-action efforts... not so much). As a time travel movie, this rivals A Sound of Thunder as one of the worst I’ve ever seen. When Alice needs to go at a specific time, she doesn’t get there early to plan ahead; she gets there minutes before the event she’s attempting to prevent. When she fails to act correctly and history has failed to be altered, she doesn’t try again, she simply gives up. Yet another story that fails to understand the power of time travel.

“But Wait!” you might say. “In the movie, they explicitly say that if you go back to the past and see yourself, it’ll destroy the entire universe! She’s only got one shot!” and you’re right, except that if Alice had any brains, she’d leave herself notes, or do any number of other things to ensure her mission's success. If the residents of Underland are willing to risk all of their existence, past and present for the sake of the Hatter (wait, why is he so important again?) then surely she should give it her best shot.

The flaws don’t stop there. This film just does stuff. It doesn’t matter if it makes no sense. The last time we saw Iracebeth of Crims (the Red Queen, played by Helena Bonham Carter), she was being exiled. Now, she’s returned with an army of vegetable people and possesses certain objects no one in their right mind would've allowed her to leave with. Well, they had to come up with some way to bring her back, right? To keep the fan service going, Alice runs into a child version of the Hatter, of The Cheshire Cat (Stephen Fry), of Bayard (the Bloodhound voiced by Timothy Spall), and other “favorites”. They’ve got plushies to sell, don’t you know? They eclipse every brief reference to the actual Through the Looking Glass novel by Lewis Carroll. Why director James Bobin bothered with them, I don't know. It’s not like this story resembles the source material in any way. It’s made infinitely more dreadful by the completely uncharismatic Mia Wasikowska who is asked to act against a whole bunch of CGI characters and can’t pull it off.

This film can’t even figure out what it wants to do with Underland. Is it supposed to be a real place our heroine travels to, or a figment of her imagination? It doesn’t matter. The plot chugs along, moving pieces back and forth until the credits begin rolling. It’s impossible to care about anything because there are no rules. There's no attempt to recreate the whimsy of the original story or the 1951 Disney film. Alice Through the Looking Glass is little more than special effects, costumes, and makeup vomited onto the screen. (On Blu-ray, July 21, 2017)

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t4t4tclethian · 3 months

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Are you planning on writing fic for the vessel of the moon au? <- *kicking my feet and twirling my hair*

In the meantime though, i love that soup group are here, and I'm wondering if you have plans for any other hermits and what roles they might play in the story? And I'd love to hear more about the worldbuilding you've done, especially the religion/deities, I always find that stuff really neat. Are there other gods or goddesses besides the moon and magma gods? And do you have any thoughts on how people worship the different gods?

i’m not sure if i’ll turn this into a fic- i do want to, and i’ve outlined it as if i’m going to, but motivation’s been running a little thin lately and i’m a little worried i wouldn’t have enough to write the whole thing. that’s the hope, though, and talking about it on tumblr is a way i hope to flesh out some of the bits between points a and b!

i’m hoping to include all of the hermits if i can- i don’t have everyone’s voice down, so i don’t know how well that’ll work. so far, i have specific ideas for impulse, skizz, tango, zed, and doc, some ideas for iskall, stress, mumbo, ren, and hypno (they hunt monsters!), and i’m thinking grian has Some sort of obsessive love/hate situtionship with the sea deity.

(i want to draw a lot of what the hermits are doing from season 9, and then translate that to this au. if that means grian’s started a murder fishing cult, then oh well that’s kind of funny and a good plot hook)

the gods work a little abstractly, partially because i think abstractly and partially because when you’re at that magnitude there isn’t much else to be. the gods are highly powerful beings, whose power is given an extra oomph because they are also a Concept and a Domain. these gods power and run nature, and abide by certain rules in their dealings with mortals and each other.

beyond the moon and magma gods, the ones i currently have written out are the sea deity, wind gods, land spirits, and the storm god. there is no known sun deity.

the land spirits are also different from an earth god. each land spirit is essentially a tiny god that rules This Chunk Of Land In Particular. there is no one earth god, nor will there ever be (mostly for balancing reasons).

every town or settlement has at least one shrine, for people to burn offerings and pray to the gods for aid or protection or whatnot.

different groups of people are also more likely to follow certain gods. for instance, Drifters like gem usually burn offerings to the sea and wind gods as thanks for their protection (after their homeland was destroyed, the ocean and wind offered the dragonish peoples sanctuary at sea), and gem in particular would likely also burn offerings to the moon goddess and any other gods she might meet along the way (because i haven’t figured out the entire pantheon yet)

there’s also the matter of demigods. while it’s possible for a mortal to ascend to godhood, it’s also rare- the gods tend to offer demigodhood to people who look like they might get too close, which is a lot less powerful, but still semi-immortal and deeply cool. none of the hermits are gods, but several are demigods of some sort.

the gods of this world don’t really need worship or belief to function, so they don’t actively encourage it as much

#ask!!#echoing-interests!!#the vessel of the moon au #there are also favored souls but that one’s pretty variable so it basically means whatever i want it to #the gods turn promising mortals into demigods to prevent new gods from ascending and current ones from being replaced #it doesn’t always work (not all gods are ascended mortals) and they do it for a variety of reasons #for instance: the current gods agreed between each other to be bound by certain rules and customs for the safety of mortals #and a new god ascending would mean they’d have to track the new guy down and convince them to get their hands tied with no immediate upside #it’s not an appealing bargain and there’s no guarantee that the new god would even keep their word #so it’s a lot easier to just try and prevent new gods from popping up

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deerydear · 4 months

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Something I've been thinking about, recently...

I heard a voice ask me, "Is it scary to take everyone seriously?" I think that's paraphrase of what he asked. He asked right after I had written this post about "cult mind-control".

In it, I debated my impulse to reject the truth from another person.

I actually got some very good advice, today. I had an argument, and the other people correctly assessed a theme in my behaviour. I don't mean to offend, because I value a productive discussion... and I don't like name-calling, as it puts people on the defensive. Although, in some situations, someone may benefit from being shaken up-and-down... all around. Get a little dizzy and regain your bearings. Recalibrate.

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I value a little physical pain as a method of burning chaff. It refocuses the mind onto what is real. This discussion is reminding me of a blog-entry from last year:

I've been reflecting, rethinking, regurgitating, ruminating... like a cow chewing the cud.

I realized that one of my old attitudes was not as productive as I assumed. I remember someone challenging me on my assumptions, standing their ground.

I treasure this.

I was so desperate to numb myself with a belief. Yet.......... I have written about how "identity" was a way for me to forget myself, what was real... to play in a collective delusion with other people as desperate to forget themselves as I.

This reminds me of a story in the Red Book: The Wounded God and the Opening of the Egg.

"Unfortunately, the good person who has bound his strength will all-too-easily find slaves for his service, since there are more than plenty who yearn for nothing more strongly than to be alienated from themselves under good pretense." Here is where this story begins. I will include three pages which provide a short, sweet slice of the whole:

I've been told that I have a great intelligence, by many people. Some of my teachers in school told the classes that "I was the smartest kid, there". I'm not trying to brag, I want to impart a piece of my experience in the world. This can build up an Ego so grand, tall... ivory-tower.

It was because the teachers proclaimed it, that some people became scared to contradict me, for fear of "looking stupid in front of their peers". Yet this lack of opposing iron to sharpen mine against just led to becoming very dull. Status-quo leads to stupidity.

So, in being stood up to... I realized with so much relief:

"At least I hadn't led someone else into a delusion, again..."

The discussion of today had rubbed me wrong. Yet, we were both wrong in our own ways, and also both right in our respective ways.

"You spit out and curse everything that lies beyond your lovely world, since you know that it is the disgust, scum, refuse of the human animal who stuffs himself in dark places, creeps along sidewalks, sniffs out every blessed angle, and from the cradle to the grave enjoys only what has already been on everyone’s lips. But here you may not stop—do not place your disgust between your here-and-now and your beyond. The way to your beyond leads through Hell and in fact through your own wholly particular Hell, whose bottom consists of knee-deep rubble, whose air is the spent breath of millions, whose-fires are dwarflike passions, and whose devils are chimerical sign-boards. Everything odious and disgusting is your own particular Hell. How can it be otherwise? Every other Hell was at least worth seeing or full of fun. But that is never Hell. Your Hell is made up of all the things that you always ejected from your sanctuary with a curse and a kick of the foot. When you step into your own Hell, never think that you come like one suffering in beauty, or as a proud pariah, but you come like a stupid and curious fool and gaze in wonder at the scraps that have fallen from your table. You really want to rage, but you see at the same time how well rage suits you. Your hellish absurdity stretches for miles. Good for you if you can swear! You will find that profanity is lifesaving. Thus if you go through Hell, you should not forget to give due attention to whatever crosses your path. Quietly look into everything that excites your contempt or rage; thereby you accomplish the miracle that I experienced with the pale maiden. You give soul to the soulless, and thereby it can come to something out of horrible nothingness. Thus you will redeem your other into life. Your values want to draw you away from what you presently are, to get you ahead of and beyond yourself. Your being, however, pulls you to the bottom like lead. You cannot at the same time live both, since both exclude each other. But on the way you can live both. Therefore the way redeems you. You cannot at the same time be on the mountain and in the valley, but your way leads you from mountain to valley and from valley to mountain. Much begins amusingly and leads into the dark. Hell has levels.” --- Reflection of The Castle in the Forest

I had been contemplating the story of "Seven" ---- One of the men working as a Detective wants to name-call, forget, pretend, go back to his life where he is a good guy in a world of bad guys, lunatics, psychos whose thoughts do not matter....

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I understand someone who may be apathetic towards other people's well-being. I understand someone who is willing to put their pursuit of the illusion of pleasure as their top priority. I understand the mind of a rapist. That's what we were talking about. That was our discussion.

Yet, I looked him deep in the eyes.

"Although I understand it, I do not condone it."

It's different, when you believe that you are the only evil person in the world... you're the only one brave enough to break the taboos.

I typed "everyone is evil" as run-on thought, but that's a sjw reskinning. "Evil =/= disagrees with me, comes against me."

What if "me" is evil?

Play pretend?

Cry wolf? Oh boo hoo, help me! I'm being persecuted.... for being a rapist.

Persecuted for selfishness, anti-sociality.

It doesn't have to manifest as extremely as rape. There is usually a long prelude in which the selfishness extends itself, finds a footing, takes root.... repeat, like a creeping vine that tries to take up territory.

Choking out other plants, in this conquest...

I like the story of L versus Kira. I posed it as a philosophical question: If you had to choose between the world's most effective detective, versus someone with the power to kill anyone known?

Rapists? Gone. No release.

I think of this horrible case, that happened in Japan. A group of men tortured a woman to death. Three of the men were locked up in a prison for less than ten years, and then they were released onto the streets. This was real life.

Yet, in the story, Kira was not an infallible justice.

There are other people who have been exonerated of their alleged crimes. Years down the line, it was proven that they had been innocent of the crime they were accused of. Sometimes, this happens because of improvements in the capability of forensic sciences.

Do those people deserve to die, due to of a crime they hadn't committed? Kira didn't truly have the supernatural power to know who had been innocent or guilty. He relied on the news reports. He relied on court-verdicts. He was a person, like any of us.

L was reputed as being able to solve any case. Before Kira, there had never been a single case in which L was involved, left unsolved. Even then, during the Kira epoch, he had narrowed the suspects down to two people, but he required a proof to prosecute them. In the end, these individuals were found guilty. L lost his life to the case, but he was avenged.

The first time I read this story, I agreed with Kira. It's a very human question. Do we kill those who hurt us? Do we show mercy?

I can't answer that for you.

What does it mean to answer?

Some advice that a Pastor gave to me:

"Don't always go looking for things to be offended about. Look instead for where there are opportunities to learn."

I come to the discourse between a man, his soul, and a teacher.

"These also stagger from wine and stumble from strong drink: Priests and prophets reel from strong drink and are befuddled by wine. They stumble because of strong drink, muddled in their visions and stumbling in their judgments. For all their tables are covered with vomit; there is not a place without filth."

I am reminded of a dream that I was in, ten years ago.

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I had prepared a dinner for a gathering of people. They began to eat. One by one, every person started vomiting copiously, until a black sludge was quickly dripping from the table... covering it entirely.

I stood there, frozen in horror yet pride. I had the resolve of someone who plans to murder his neighbors, yet the little birdcage in my heart was crashing around. A shrill voice: "You are wrong!"

She doesn't want me to do it. "It". What even is it? Something conceived, but I could build blueprints for anything. I could build an amusement park. I could create love.

"It" didn't exist before I planned "it". It doesn't exist in the natural world.

“I do not want to die to descend into your darkness.” “But,” she said, “you need not die. You must only let yourself be buried.” “In the hope of resurrection? No joking now!” But she spoke calmly: “You suspect what will happen. Triple walls before you and invisibility—to Hell with your longing and feeling! At least you do not love us, so we will cost you less dearly than the men who roll in your love and patience and have you make a fool of yourself.” “My dead one, I think you are speaking my language.” She replied to me scornfully: “Men love—and you! What an error! All this means is that you want to run away from yourself. What do you do to men? You tempt and coax them into megalomania, to which you fall victim.” “But it grieves me, pains me, howls at me; I feel a great longing, everything soft complains, and my heart yearns.” But she was unsparing. “Your heart belongs to us,” she said, “What do you want with men? Self-defense against men—so that you walk on your own two feet, not on human crutches. Men need the undemanding, but they are always wanting love to be able to run away from themselves. This ought to stop. Why do fools go out and preach the gospel to the negroes, and then ridicule it in their own country? Why do these hypocritical preachers speak of love, divine and human love, and use the same gospel to justify the right to wage war and commit murderous injustice? Above all, what do they teach others when they themselves stand up to their necks in the black mud of deception and self-deceit? Have they cleaned their own house, have they recognized and driven out their own devil? Because they do none of this, they preach love to be able to run away from themselves, and to do to others what they should do to themselves. But this greatly prized love, given to one’s own self, burns like fire. These hypocrites and liars have noticed this—as you have—and prefer to love others. Is that love? It is false hypocrisy. It always begins in yourself and in all things and above all with love. Do you believe that one who wounds himself unsparingly does the other a good deed with his love? No, of course you don’t believe it. You even know that he only teaches the other how one must wound oneself, so that he can compel others to express sympathy. Therefore you should be a shadow since this is what men need. How can they get away from the hypocrisy and foolishness of your love if you yourself cannot? For everything begins with yourself. But your horse still cannot refrain from whinnying. Even worse, your virtue is a wagging dog, a growling dog, a licking dog, a barking dog—and you call that human love! But love is: to bear and endure oneself. It begins with this. It is truly about you; you are not yet tempered; other fires must yet come over you until you have accepted your solitude and learned to love. What do you ask about love? What is love? To live, above all, that is more than love. Is war love? You are bound to see what human love is still good enough for—a means like other means. Therefore, above all, solitude, until every softness toward yourself has been burnt out of you. You should learn to freeze.””

“I see only graves before me,” I answered, “what cursed will is above me?” “The will of the God, that is stronger than you, you slave, you vessel. You have fallen into the hands of the greater. He knows no pity. Your Christian shrouds have fallen, the veils that blinded your eyes. The God has become strong again. The yoke of men is lighter than the yoke of the God; therefore everyone seeks to yoke the other out of mercy. But he who does not fall into the hands of men falls into those of the God. May he be well and may woe betide him! There is no escape.” “Is that freedom?” I cried. “The highest freedom. Only the God above you, through yourself, Comfort yourself with this and that as well as you can. The God bolts doors that you cannot open. Let your feelings whimper like puppies. The ears on high are deaf.” “But,” I answered, “is there no outrage for the sake of the human?” “Outrage? I laugh at your outrage. The God knows only power and creation. He commands and you act. Your anxieties are laughable. There is only one road, the military road of the Godhead.” The dead one spoke these unsparing words to me. As I did not want to obey anyone, I had to obey this voice. And she spoke unsparing words about the power of the God. I had to accept these words. We have to greet a new light, a blood-red sun, a painful wonder. No one forces me to; only the foreign will in me commands and I cannot escape since I find no grounds to do so.

As the discourse continues, the man says things in manners which would I would have taken as deep offense, were I a woman with no clue of what it is to be a man.

"Man", What definition of man? Cultural? Biological?

We return to the question: "Nature or Nurture?"

I grew up being taught in an English language. There are separate words for man and woman, and she and he. As I changed, strangers began to believe I was a "Sir", without any flounce or pomp... I looked in the mirror and I saw a male face staring back at me. My definition of "man" began to change from "someone who I am not", to "someone who I can be." Men had seemed "the other", "the one who I am not". The "hetero" in "heterosexuality". The different.

"Man as an assumed default, appearing as a threat to the womanly." "I am not a 'he'. People do not call me 'he', so I do not know what it is to be a 'he', or an assumed man... The word they give me is 'girl', 'a she'.

"A language teacher | know explained that grammar is just the way we chart relationships in language. Maybe it also reflects our relationships with each other." --- Learning the Grammar of Animacy

This is the story of a woman who grew up speaking a foreign tongue.

I hear my own story, too.

My family had to leave behind their home country. In childhood, I wasn't taught my native language. Yet, there is such a familiarity, as if it was spoken in my dreams. The shape of words: a way of knowing the world. It's almost like I knew the shape of the words on my tongue, and the meaning of that shape... Example:

youtube

I used to be obsessed with the sound "nyeh"! (not how Joey says it, here, but more like "ni-yehh"; or "nyaa" with an "-eh" instead of "-aa".) THIS IS HOW YOU SAY "NO!" IN POLISH! It's spelled "nie". I knew the meaning, before I knew the intellectual justification. I would draw anime-characters grumpily saying "NYEH!" as a sound of defiance.

Speaking life into my home language...

I've heard it asked, postulated... "Does everything happen for a reason?"

If I hadn't changed, then I may or may not have changed my mindset regarding cultural-gender. Who knows? God does.

I believe in the power of possibility, so I shouldn't preclude any other cures from the repertoire of fate.

Perhaps I want to see good in my sorrows. Gold amongst sand, yet... does your hunger delude you? Does it stray you off into far valleys in search of an alien boon?

Ah... Ah-ah-ah...

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busyralph · 1 year

Note

Dearest Ralphie-Boy,

Ha! I guess so, well, honestly it would have felt weird for me to send something like, “What up, bro!! How’s it hanging?!” And stuff, and honestly, this tickles me. But yes! You are indeed an influencer, how does it feel?

Trueeee, I just didn’t expect it to be as charming as it is. No wonder we all think the world of you! You got that charm, like cat nip. ( Did that come off as flirty? Definitely don’t mean to. I’m no homewrecker. )

Ahhh, so Scott’s the Jif liar. Tell him that Jif is a brand of peanut butter here in the states, not an animation online. I said what I said.

….uh. Well. America’s kind of huge here, so…. I can’t say yes or no? Ralph, we’re not British actors that all go to the same club, you know? Even in Hollywood we spend time to avoid one another. Though. Yes, I’m a California girl. I don’t know if your friend is. So maybe?? Even then…… probably not! Though you are more than welcome to come over! That would be amazing. We can get you all the American treats you Brits don’t get. ( I follow two tiktokers whose whole brand is trying American snacks, so I imagine there’s a lot you haven’t tried. Have you thought of tiktok?! )

Oooh, you’re fancy in the kitchen. How nice! I’ve never had coq au vin. Probably gonna google after I send this to you. But I do love a steak 🥩 usually cooked at a medium or medium rare. Well Done steaks depress me. Where’s the flavor? The juice? It’s just disappointment in meat form. Ahh, but oven baked macaroni or the blue boxes?

No need for apologies! I enjoyed myself reading what you’ve written. Well, the oven baked chicken with barbecue sauce is actually my go to, with some potatoes ( gold potatoes. Something about them. ) I’m just a big fan of bbq in general. Oh! When you come over, you should definitely go to an American BBQ restaurant. That’s a must.

Warmest Regards,

Yve

Dear Yve,

Now, are you quite sure you don't know my American friend? Because all of those things are exactly the kind of thing he greets me with! And he is certainly from California! I know that much because he got very cross when I tried to copy his voice when the costume store was presenting a Wild West theme. Apparently there are separate American accents just as there are in England.

Oh, crumbs, I've never had any sort of influence on anything before, it all seems a tad overwhelming, but my friends are teaching me well! I heard talks of something called a "podded cast", but I'm not sure if by cast they mean I'm expected to be in the movies or severely injured. Neither sound all too appealing to me!

I shall let him know about the peanut butter as well, although perhaps I hope you don't mind if I simply show him this message and let him read it from you. You are currently an ocean away from him, I am but an arm's length.

I tried the Tick and Tock app one time, but I spoke at great length in the video that I wanted to make but the blasted thing cut me off mere seconds in! I became very frustrated with the time limit and so I did away with it completely.

...I must admit. While I do put in the effort when I am cooking for those that I care for, when I say that I could eat macaroni and cheese all the while, it isn't anything of any real nutritional value. I just go across to the supermarket and buy as many packets of the kind you can just pop in the microwave and eat within minutes as I can. Terribly lazy of me, I know.

I'm yet to have a barbecue! I'm told Americans do it quite differently to how they do it over here, in America I'm told it's its own cuisine! I would so love to try it sometime. Unfortunately, I'm not so sure they'll give a passport to someone who has supposed to have been dead for the last 97 years. Perhaps I could hide in my friend's luggage when he next goes home to California!

Regards,

Ralph

#*ralph #yve 🫶

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sparklingchan · 3 years

Text

Ruby Eyes|| Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word count : 7.3k+

Warnings : Mention of an accident, cuss words, divorce, a single kiss.

Genre : Romance, Soulmate AU, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers.

Description: Seo Changbin has done everything in his capacity to remove and replace you, yet fate seems to have different plans for the both of you.

A/N : Hello everyone ahhh I know it’s been so long y’all. So many things have been going on including exams and internships and I just didn’t have the patience to write :(( This one shot was written as a part of a collab event by wonderful, dear Ro!

I hope y’all like it!

"So, how's it being back, y/n?"

Your dad looks older now than he did the last time you saw him - probably two years ago, when you were leaving the country.

You missed him, really. You missed his warmth and his wisdom and how he was a sharp contrast to your mother, more calm and composed. Sometimes you wonder how your mother had even managed to get your custody after their divorce.

"Okay, I guess." You lie.

You didn't want your father to know how your feelings are all over the place, ranging from sadness to anger and longingness.

It's a weird thing to be experiencing such a cocktail of emotions when you'd convinced yourself these feelings had disappeared the day you left the old neighborhood, seven years ago. You had not felt any attachment towards the new neighborhood that you and your mother then went on to live for the next two years before you moved abroad for your studies. Yet you feel nostalgic now, as your father drives you through your old old neighborhood.

"How's mom?" He asks, taking a left to a road all too familiar to you, "Is she still going to therapy?"

You nod, "She's getting better, I think. The new country seems to have changed her. The therapy is helping too. She has many friends there now. "

At first when you were offered a job at one of the biggest publishing companies in the world, you were ecstatic. But everything soon died down when you found out you were posted at a branch in the country you'd left behind. It was your mother who'd convinced you to take it.

"I know you don't like being back, y/n." Your dad smiles sadly when he pulls over infront of your old house.The house that contains years of secrets, tears, lies and whispered confessions in front of the mirror stands in front of you, as grand and pretty as ever. It looks different but similar enough to make you tear up a tad bit.

"But I'm glad you're here. I really am." He says, "I renovated the house a little when you told me you were moving back. I hope it's okay."

You smile at the old man, wrapping your arms around him, "Thanks, dad. I missed you. I'm glad you're here, too."

He pecks your forehead, "I missed you, too, love."

Moving in doesn't take a lot of time since your dad had already set up everything. You just had to get some of your stuff and you were ready to kick start your stay.

That evening, your father leaves after making you promise to call him if anything happens at all and when the front door closes, you find yourself in the company of your old room.

You lie on your bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling as you hum an old tune to yourself. And without meaning to, you find yourself thinking about him; The man you hadn't seen or talked to for a whole seven years. The man who'd tried his best to stay in touch with you yet gave up when you didn't reciprocate the same.

A horrific realization then dawns on you,

He'd obviously replaced you now.

The familiar clouds of grief loom over you, threatening to engulf you any moment now.

No. Not now, please.

Getting up from your bed immediately, you shake your head as you make your way to the mirror- the mirror that had encountered more honest tears and smiles and words than any human ever had. You stare at your reflection as tears escapes your eyes, the bright red iris of your right eye staring back at you when you rub your tears off.

You shiver.

"Shit, I forgot to wear the contacts."

Quickly grabbing your lenses from your bag, you put them on, concealing the scary blood red color of your right eye. You take two long strides across the room and pulling your favorite black hoodie over your head, you walk out of the door.

By the time you manage to leave the house, it's already 10:30 in the evening. A quiet calmness has fallen over the town, as the shops and restaurants near the market square slowly start closing up. Your feet are as if on autopilot, taking you to that one place you know would still be open; Yang's Café.

And rightly so, the smell of freshly brewed coffee reaches your nostrils when you walk through their main door, past the group of chatty teenagers waiting outside. This place hasn't changed much, you realize, the brown and golden hues of the place and the vintage coffee cups collection in the far corner of the Cafe are still the same. The only difference is that you're no longer here with your best friend right after school, you are here all alone on an evening too quiet for your liking.

"Y/n? Is that you?"

When you turn around to face the owner of the voice, you are stunned.

"Jeongin?"

Jeongin's family has owned this Cafe for three generations now, from his great-grandparents, his grandparents, his parents and soon enough it'll pass down to him. As a kid, you remember often playing with Jeongin at the park and teaming up with him during quiz competition. He was always sweet and always smiley.

But the handsome young man that stands in front of you doesn't resemble the Jeongin you once used to know, not even a little bit.

"What..what happened to you!" You exclaim, taking his face in your hands, "Where are the braces! And the specs and wow, would you look at the blue hair!"

Jeongin can only let out a few giggles as you continue squishing his face and complaining how big he's grown in only over seven years.

The customers give you weird stares but only the heavens above know how genuinely happy you are to see Jeongin, albeit the fact you almost couldn't recognize him there for a second.

"What have you done to my child?" You mutter when you've finally calmed down and Jeongin takes you to your seat.

"I have a mother, y/n, thank you very much," he laughs, taking a seat opposite to yours, loosening the Barista apron around his torso, "And I missed you too."

You attempt to pinch his cheeks but he is quick to dodge.

"So how have you been?" He asks through giggly breaths.

You sigh, "I'm good... I feel weird being back here, honestly but I think I'll get used to it soon. What about you?"

"I've been good. Graduated a few months back, now I'm working here full time." He ushers over a waiter, "What would you like, y/n?"

You don't even think for a second while responding, "An iced Americano, please."

The waiter notes your order and walks away before Jeongin pinches your arm teasingly.

"Ouch. What?"

"Old habits die hard, huh? You always used to drink an iced coffee whenever we hung out here. I am glad to see nothing much has changed," Jeongin laughs, "You and Changbin, too!"

That one name sends your entire mind into a frenzy. Changbin. Seo Changbin. The love of your life. The man who you wouldn't even go to school without, the man who had saved you from a terrible accident, also the man who probably no longer even remembers you.

And you realise, despite everything, your heart yearns for him, still- for you wouldn't be in so much pain at the mention of his name otherwise.

Jeongin seems to have noticed your discomfort because he immediately changes the topic, "Anyway, you have to try our new chocolate cake. It's heavenly, I'm telling you."

Your reason to leave the neighborhood wasn't a secret, really. It was public knowledge that your mother had blamed Changbin for the fatal accident you almost had.

You're grateful for what Jeongin does, and try your best to engage in conversations about the neighborhood and old gossip you'd missed out on. Yet all you want to do is drive out of the damn Cafe and find changbin.

"Y/n?"

Or maybe, Changbin will find you.

Behind Jeongin, you see the blurry image of a man that had once caused you great misery yet you had never felt as happy as when you were with him.

"Hi..hi, Changbin." You stammer as you see the said man walk towards your table.

The seven years have as if done some magic on him, because the Changbin that walks towards you in no way resembles your high school best friend.

With thick buff arms, new ear piercings and silver jewelry gracing his wrists and fingers, you have a hard time actually accepting the fact that Seo Changbin is really there, in front of you.

"Been long, huh?" He grins, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes and somewhere in the depths of your conscience, you realize it might have been your fault. You'd done everything in your capacity to break apart from this friendship, ignoring his calls, changing your number, even going as far as blocking him on all social media.

So, did you really expect him to welcome you back with open arms when you had caused him so much pain?

Jeongin brings an extra chair for Changbin to sit on and soon, the three of you are talking, maybe not like the old, happy days but it's still better than nothing. Changbin looks at you everytime you throw your head back and laugh, your eyes squeezing shut as his heart clenches in his chest.

You are really back home.

"So what have you been doing? I told you guys about me." Jeongin says, stealing a bite off of Changbin's cheesecake.

"Oh..you know," Changbin giggles, the tip of his ears turning a light pink shade.

You raise your eye brows in confusion.

"Been busy with the wedding and all."

Your heart drops. "Wedding? W-whose wedding?" You try to laugh it off but it's very evident from the way you're gripping your glass of iced Americano that it has affected you. A lot more than you actually thought.

"I'm getting married, y/n," Changbin smiles, "I'm so glad you could be around for the wedding."

Your grief stricken self has not gotten up from the bed since last night and you're thankful to Jeongin for finally checking up on you or else you would have gone deeper into the spiral hole of despair.

"Are you really going to be like this, y/n?"

You hate being miserable on the very second day of your stay. You hate depending on Jeongin. But you can barely move without bursting out into tears,so it seems as though there's no better idea than have someone take care of you at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Jeongin. " You manage to speak when he places a bag full of snacks and drinks on the dining table, "And thanks."

Jeongin chuckles, "Don't thank me, just yet. Guess who wants to meet up with you?"

Your eyes widen for a split second as you sit up on the couch, "Who?!"

No, he wouldn't, would he?

"It's not the person you think, y/n. Calm down." He laughs, "It's Bang Chan. Your senior, you remember?"

Oh, yes, the infamous Bang Chan. Shy smiles, dimples, curly hair, angelic eyes. Yeah, you remember the school's heartthrob. Very clearly.

"I was talking to him this morning and he said he'd be very glad to catch up with you again." Jeongin settles beside you, "It's not a date, y/n. He's an old friend. It wouldn't hurt, would it? You can't possibly sit here all day long crying about him."

You open your mouth to argue, but only air slips out and you realise you don't have anything to defend your miserable state with. You knew this was coming; when you cut off all ties with Seo Changbin, you knew this was coming.

Jeongin is right; you need to go out and meet new people.

You roll your eyes before pinching Jeongin's cheeks, "Fine. Give him my number."

He responds by pulling your cheeks as well.

The first day of work is weirdly gut wrenching.

You hadn't expected yourself to be this nervous but here you are, muttering under your breath as you make way towards the office.

"You'll be okay, y/n," you breathe in, "You've worked hard for this." And breathe out.

A few more minutes of self pep talking and you see all your hard work and expectations go down the drain as you feel a few droplets of rain fall onto your head. You look up and the dark, heavy clouds greet you.

Bloody brilliant.

You see the office goers around you jog quickly to the nearest shelter but you're short on luck today as your gaze falls on your watch and you realize you don't have enough time to wait for the rain to pass.

So you grab your office bag, cover your head with that and make a run for it.

The sole of your high heel shoes dig into your feet and a throbbing pain shoots through your body, as you wince. Note to yourself - never wear heels to office again.

You also secretly pray to the gods that your contact lens don't get washed off. Turning up at your new office on the first day with a blood red iris doesn't feel too fun, really.

"Do you need a lift?"

You had been so busy running to your office that you don't notice when a black car drives toward you and the driver rolls down the window, offering you a smile.

Seo Changbin.

Your heart skips a few beats.

"Y/n, do you need a lift?"

You blink back to reality when he clicks his fingers in front of you, "I-I mean if that's okay with you."

Changbin smiles, pointing to the passenger's seat, "Come on in."

When you're comfortably seated in his car, using his spare towel to wipe off the water from your face and hair, his questions start-

"So.." He steps on the break when the traffic light turns red, "How have you been?"

You look at the digital clock displayed on the cars' LED, and sigh. You're late to work and you're stuck in traffic with the one man you'd rather not be stuck in traffic with. Brilliant.

"Good." Your eyes are focused on the cars outside the window, "You?"

There's a moment of silence before he speaks again, "Fine."

Fine? Just Fine? Shouldn't he be over the clouds, now that the wedding is finally around the corner?

"Okay.."

"Actually, I meant to ask you earlier, y/n." He turns to you, a gentle smile playing at his lips, "I am throwing a party this weekend. I'd love it if you could come by. And I could introduce you to her."

You sink back into your seat, biting your lip, wondering if you want to ever know who her is. Your peace of mind is more important than meeting your ex crush's fiance, right? And if you do end up going to the party, whom would you hang out with? It's not like you know any of his rich friends and cousins and there's no way you'd hang out with Changbin and the said fiance.

You are about to respectfully reject the invitation when a sudden, seemingly good idea pops into your head.

Bang Chan.

You nod, shrugging, "Okay. I'll be there."

You clasp your hands together as he continues driving and you look out the window, unable to suppress the bubbling excitement.

"Great, then." He replies, suspiciously.

The evening of the party finally arrives, much to your dismay, you find yourself seated next to Chan. He's just the same as the guy in your memory; a gentleman.

"You look pretty, y/n." He had greeted you as he held the car door open for you, "I'm glad we could meet up."

His words turn your cheeks into a darker shade of red but your heart doesn't beat quite as furiously as you'd expect it to.

Muttering a small thank you, you seat comfortably in the car while Chan drives towards Changbin's family's old Farmhouse on the outskirts of the city. You've been there before - during summer holidays, he would take you there with his family. That place was only filled with happy memories of sunshine, swimming pools, watermelon juice and bonfires.

You swallow the grief that comes along with these memories.

"Are we here already?" Chan pulls over in a familiar driveway not even ten minutes later, jogging up to your door and clicking it open, like the gentleman he is.

"Yeah, we're here." Chan smiles, "Very less traffic tonight."

You guys walk through the huge metallic gate, making your way through the main door of the house.

"Uh..." People are crowded mostly around the front door and in the front yard, so you and Chan have to push and squeeze your way into the Farmhouse. You hate the feeling of sweaty bodies pressing against you (or holding Chan's hand for stability) but desperate situations call for desperate measures.

"I hate it here." You mutter when you later find yourself by the pool side, swirling the drink that you don't even plan on drinking and looking at all the flushed faces having the time of their lives.

Thankfully, Chan happens to be on the same boat as you.

"I'm sorry I dragged you here, Chan. We could have just gone for a movie."

Chan giggles, "Hey, it's alright. I don't mind, I'm glad I could spend some time with you after so many years."

His eyes shine and dimples deepen.

You whisper, "Yeah, me too."

Chan is a handsome man, good at all kinds of sport, good at arts, very smart and intelligent yet there's a part of you that knows you'd never be able to reciprocate his flirtatious words. It's sad, really, but that's just how life is.

"Wow, those two seem to be having the time of their lives." Chan chuckles, pointing at someone behind you.

It's quite dark outside, the only source of light being a few decorative fairylights hung at random places haphazardly.

Hiding behind a huge, tall bush, you see a couple, kissing each other like it were the last day on the planet.

The guy's hands roam all over the woman's body and the woman is so loud that even you could hear her sighs and moans. When she pulls away to catch her breath for a second, Chan asks you, "You know her?"

"Nope. I don't know either of them."

You look away; what kind of creep looks at a happy couple like that? (Not a creep, just a lonely and touch starved person)

"Should we check out the dinner table?" Chan suggests and you agree with a nod, "I hope there's no crowd there."

As expected, there actually isn't a crowd there - there's only Changbin, sitting and nibbling on a pizza slice while scrolling through the phone.

The moment your eyes land on him, your feet as if stop on their own and your heart bangs furiously against your chest.

He's breathtakingly gorgeous.

By the time you debate in your head whether or not you want to sit there and fill your stomach, Chan has already made his way to Changbin.

"Hey, Bin!" He greets him with a smile.

Changbin looks at Chan with an unamused smile, the same one from your high school days, when these two were named the biggest rivals on campus. You wonder if somewhere deep in his heart, Changbin had still not let go of that rivalry.

"Hey, Changbin." You manage to whisper before sitting beside Chan.

He looks almost angry.

"You should have the pizza. It's good." He mutters, turning to pass you a slice of pizza on a plate, "Help yourself, Chan."

Yup, there it is. The Seo Changbin that would kill to be on top. You feel worse about dragging Chan here now when neither of you were having a good time.

"Thanks, mate. " Chan replies.

Your ears ring with the sound of approaching footsteps, and when a pretty girl comes walking in and takes Changbin in her arms, your heart stings. Like a fresh wound.

"Y/n.." Chan whispers to you as you watch the two collide in a loving embrace, Changbin smiling at her and running his fingers through her hair.

Your heart hurts at how happy and content he looks.

You could have had that, a part of you thinks, if you weren't such a coward, it would have been you instead of her.

"Y/n," Chan calls you again.

"What?" Your tone is harsher than you intended, "What happened?"

You think Chan is about to give you the whole it-is-time-to-move-on talk but he doesn't, instead he points at the girl and whispers,

"It's her. The girl we saw earlier."

The rest of the night is blurry to you, all conversations, all gazes, all thoughts just feel ....like an awkward dream.

"We have to tell Changbin."

You're sitting at Yang's Cafe at 1 am the same night, watching Jeongin's brother guide his staff to clean the place up.

"I agree." Chan says, biting the inside of his cheeks.

While you, on the other hand, are completely zoned out, staring at the glass of water placed in front of you and watching the droplets on its surface race each other.

"Y/n, what do you think?" Jeongin asks when you don't take part in their discussions.

You sigh, "I don't know. I really don't. As much as it troubles me that Changbin is being cheated on, I don't want to get involved in their personal relationship. "

"Let's not tell anyone for now, then. But someday in the future, before that goddamn wedding, we have to tell him. He deserves to know." Chan agrees.

You purse your lips and close your eyes.

Chan is right.

Changbin deserves to know the truth.

"So, how's it being back in town, y/n?"

"It feels good. Weird, but good." You smile at your old teacher, "How have you been, Miss Oh?"

Your teacher adds sugar to the cup of tea in her hands and then looks at you, smiling - the same old smile, except with more wrinkles now, "I've been good. I'm retiring next year so I'm glad I could see you before that, huh?"

You nod your head, "I'm glad too. The school hasn't changed much, unlike what I had expected."

Other than the addition of some new labs and libraries, and the change in color of the walls, everything was still the same. No place in this old school building feels foreign to you.

"Ugh, these administration people I tell you, y/n, they're cheap idiots. They won't spend a single penny on infrastructure unless it's absolutely necessary." She complains as you giggle in response,

"They've always been like that."

Miss Oh gulps some tea from her cup, "Anyway, y/n, I have a class now. I would have loved to stay and chat, really, but I'm afraid that might get me in to trouble."

"No issues, Miss Oh. Go ahead. I'll just roam around the school a little more though, if that's okay."

After Miss Oh leaves, you step out of her cabin and walk the familiar corridors, reminiscent of the memories you have here. Studying a few minutes before tests, bunking classes, running to class when you're late, hanging out with your friends- these corridors have seen you grow in love, in friendship, in life. There's absolutely nothing that could ever replace these memories.

Mindlessly, you wander around the third floor, walking toward the end of the corridor before stopping in front of an old door, way too familiar to not try and push open.

While a part of you tells you it might not be a good idea to go into that room again, there's also a part of you that thinks it's a bloody brilliant idea.

Pushing the door open, you walk into the old dusty room, sighing in relief when you see a particular set of letters still carved on the wall.

CB and YN were here.

You finally let your tears run free, as you crouch down to touch the letters.

Your heart aches at how much you miss Changbin being an important part of your life and how much you miss being his top priority. And your heart aches for Changbin, who is so in love with his fiancé and has no idea he's being cheated on.

You almost want to leave this town and go back to your mother, away from this terrible mess. Yet you don't find it in yourself to act on those thoughts.

Maybe, it is your fear of abandoning him once again that stops you. Or, maybe it is simply the unconditional love you harbor for him.

* Surprisingly, Yang's Cafe is near empty that afternoon.

"Did something happen, y/n? You look really worried." Changbin has his arms crossed over his chest, looking at you with a tense frown.

"Um..it's kind of complicated." You sigh. For a second, you see the genuine concern and innocence on his face, and you wonder if it is worth telling him the truth at all because it would kill you to see him lose his smile but then, his engagement band shines on his ring finger and your stomach turns unpleasantly.

He has to know. From you. In person.

"Changbin, that day at your party...I saw something. " You whisper, "Something I shouldn't have. I should have turned a blind eye really but I can't. My conscience won't allow it. I'm sorry, Bin."

"Y/n, it's okay, just tell me," he reaches over and wraps his fingers around yours, soft and gentle, "You're scaring me."

"Changbin, your fiance is cheating on you. I-I saw her kissing another man that night. Chan saw it too." You feel sick even having to say this to him, "I think you should confront her."

He sucks in a deep breathe, his face completely void of any emotions as he extracts his hands from yours.

"I know." Is all he says.

His eyes drill into yours, as if accusing you of a crime. He looks angry. Just how he looked the day you brought Chan to his party.

"Why are you still marrying her then?" You question.

He sits up straight, "Y/n, I wish I could explain. But I can't. I'm sorry. And please, stay out of this, okay?"

"Why? Why should I stay out of it?" Your voice threatens to break, "I cannot watch my best friend marry a woman who's not loyal. You deserve better than this, Bin."

A sarcastic chuckle leaves Changbin's lips as he taps his foot against the floor, "Let me correct you, y/n. You were my best friend. Seven years ago. You're not anymore."

Your heart shatters.

A part of you knows you deserve this after ghosting him for seven long years. You were the center of each other's world at one point of time.How could you have been so selfish to ever think that your absence and lack of communication wouldn't hurt him?

"Changbin, I'm sorry for everything I did okay. B-but I never stopped thinking or worrying about you. Even for one second. And I still do."

Changbin pushes his chair back and stands up while you stay frozen in your seat.

"It doesn't seem like that though. "

"What do you even mean!"

"Chan. I mean Chan, y/n." He grabs his phone and purse, "Goodbye, y/n. I hope Chan turns out to be a better friend than I ever did." With that, the love of your life walks out of Yang's Cafe.

And for once, he doesn't even look back.

* "Y/n, don't let go of my hand!"

Changbin is panting heavily, his voice shaking with fear as he desperately tries to hold onto you.

He should have known it would be a bad idea to play badminton near the infamous cliff in your town yet when you had showed him your innocent smile and pleading eyes that day, he just couldn't say no.

Your sweaty hands clutch his, legs dangling over the edge of the cliff. Your free hand grabs the rough surface of the rocky cliff to keep yourself from falling.

You want to cry; but you're too traumatized to even let out more than a few terrified grunts. "Y/n," he yells, "I'm going to try and pull you up one more time, okay?."

You don't even remember how you had ended up in this situation; one second you were happily giggling, playing badminton with Changbin and in the next second, you found yourself hanging by the cliff, praying for your dear life.

With all the energy he has left, he tries to pull you up onto the surface.

"Y/n, you have to free the other hand. Let go of that rock." He pants.

You shake your head vigorously, you know you would not survive if you let go of the rock, you'd fall thousands of feet below into absolute nothingness.

"Y/n, please listen to me." Changbin pleads, now crying, "Please. I'll catch you, I promise. I'll not let you die. Just..please."

Changbin sounds like he's about to give up and in all honesty, you couldn't blame him really. Everytime your eyes fall on what's beneath you, a part of you loses hope.

"Please, come on, y/n," he's still pulling at your free hand, while his right hand awaits desperately to grab the other hand. A mixture or sweat and tears grace his face, making him shine under the bright afternoon sun. Your heart aches at the mere thought of never seeing him again- your friend, your childhood crush, your partner in everything.

Well, here goes nothing then.

You suck in a deep breath and let go the Rock, immediately reaching for Changbin. He is quick to grab both of your arms and in one swift movement, he pulls you up onto the surface.

You fall onto his chest, "Y-you saved me."

Changbin let's out a sob mixed with a relieved giggle, pulling you into his arms.

Your eyes feel heavy, as darkness slowly begins to engulf your vision.

"Oh God, I am so sorry this happened, y/n. It's all my fault." He cries, rubbing your back softly, "I'm so sorry. I thought I was going to lose you, oh God. Fuck!"

You want to tell him that it was never his fault, and that you wouldn't even be alive if not for him but your body betrays you and your body goes limp against his.

"I'm not leaving this neighborhood."

Your hands rest angrily on your waist as your mom frantically walks from your closet to where the suitcase is spread open on your bed, shifting all your clothes. She dumps them inside the suitcase, not bothering to fold them even.

"You will do as I say! That Seo Changbin tried to push you off of a cliff and heaven knows what he might do next!" Your mom yells back.

You sit at the edge of your bed, trying to keep yourself calm, "Mom, I told you it was an accident. I fell because I was going after the shuttlecock and didn't notice the cliff. Moreover, why would my best friend want try to kill me!"

Your mom let's out a sarcastic laugh, closing the suitcase roughly. She looks at you with eyes full of contempt and a part of you knows that there's no point in trying to convince her. Her mind is already made. Yet you refuse to go down without a fight.

"You're just sixteen, sweetie. You don't know anything about the cruel world, " your mother sighs, "Rich people are not friends with anyone. Changbin may be nice to you but he only sees you as a pathetic poor girl."

"Mom, we're not even poor!"

"Yes, I know. But those filthy rich businessmen consider everyone below their economic status poor. His family probably doesn't like him being friends with you which is why they asked him to get rid of you."

You think of Mrs. Seo's face in your head, always smiling and always welcoming. You remember Changbin's sister and how she'd promised to let you borrow her dress for this year's winter prom. And you think about Changbin- his face, his smile, his passion for music and his protectiveness towards you. Why would these people ever want to hurt you?

"Mom, you're being ridiculous right now! Do you even hear yourself!" You stand up from the bed, now beyond frustrated.

She walks upto you and grabs your arm tightly, nails digging into your skin as you whimper slightly. "You will listen to me. I am your mother and you will listen to me. " she growls, "Pack the rest of your stuff. We're leaving tomorrow."

When she finally walks out your bedroom, your first instinct is to dress yourself in your black hoodie and track pants, and quietly slip out of the back window of your room.

The cold air nips at your skin, goosebumps slowly appearing on your arms and legs but you're too preoccupied to pay too much heed to it.

You reach Changbin's house and like always, walk up to the backyard and climb upto his room through the emergency staircase.

When Changbin hears knocks on his window, he quickly removes his headphones, "y/n?"

He walks upto the window and let's you in, his heart more at peace now than it's ever been the entire day. The guilt from the accident you had earlier was clawing at his conscience.

His room is mostly dark except for his table lamp. You notice the lyrics notebook lying on the table, open with some scribbles and random phrases on the pages.

"How are you feeling?"

You sit at the edge of his bed, cross legged while he kneels on the floor to get to your level. His hands find yours naturally.

"Fine," you swallow the tears that have been accumulating since you left the house, "Changbin, I- we're leaving tomorrow."

Changbin is taken aback; his heart shattering into billions of pieces at your words.

"Leaving? What do you mean Leaving?" his voice trembles.

You lick your dry lips and tell him everything your mom had told you earlier. When his face twists bitterly, a part of you wishes you'd held your tongue yet a bigger part of you wants Changbin to know the truth now; you didn't want him sending you off with lies in his mind and the fear of him finding out some years later just killed you inside.

"I'm so sorry, Changbin. Mom's just not been okay after the divorce." Your voice breaks when Changbin refuses to look at you, "I know she's speaking bullshit. But there's absolutely nothing I can do to change her mind, I've tried I swear. I'm sorry, Changbin."

When Changbin finally does look at you, even in the dim lit room, you see the tears glistening on his face, mirroring the ones that roll down your cheeks. "Why are you sorry, y/n? I don't blame your mom." He mutters, "It was partly my fault. I should have taken more care, I-"

You cup his cheek, "Shh. Bin, are we really going to spend my last night here crying and blaming ourselves? We might never see each other again."

The words sink deep into his soul, and he nods. He wills his tears back in as he grabs your hand tighter.

"Okay. What do you wanna do?"

You smile a little, "You're not gonna like it though. "

"Stargazing it is then." He giggles a little as the both of you make your way to balcony attached to his room.

It is quiet outside, unlike the noise in your head and you feel the calmness spreading to you when you look up at the stars.

Changbin brings a picnic mat from inside and spreads it out on the floor, along with two pillows and a blanket.

"We'll stay in touch, yeah? If you ever need anything, I'll be right here." He reassures you, lying beside you, hands behind his head.

You smile yet you cannot bring yourself to promise him the same because you know your mother would do everything in her power to push the two of you apart, even to the point of physically hurting Changbin. You would never want that so you'd rather distance yourself and let Changbin forget about you. And maybe, just maybe fate would be a little nicer to you and decide to bring you into his life again. Many years later.

He presses a soft kiss to your head, "You'll always be my best friend, y/n. I don't care how far we are."

It takes everything in your being to not repeat the words.

"Changbin, come on we're getting you to the hospital this instant, okay?" Mrs. Seo is furious next morning, running from room to room, looking through the list of doctors she'd saved just in case of emergency.

When she looks at her son, sitting on the sofa with one of his eye irises turning a glowing red, she is reassured that this is an emergency.

"How did this even happen, mom? I swear I didn't try to do anything funny with my eye." He murmurs, scared, "It feels so itchy, gosh!"

Mrs.Seo looks at him with concern just when the doctor picks the call, "Oh, hello Dr.Lee! Thank god you picked up!"

After his mom walks out of his room, Changbin quickly types you a text,

Binnie: Hey. Did you leave already?

Y/nnie: No not yet. We've stopped at the doctor's.

Changbin's eyes widen in alarm.

Binnie: What why?

You look at your face in the decorative mirror at the doctor's waiting room, one of your irises burning into a bright shade of ruby.

Y/nnie: Mom's running a cold.

You close the messenger app before he even replies, deciding to change your number and deleting all your old contacts as soon as you move into your new house. And as much as it hurt you, this one text turned out to be the last time Changbin and you ever talked.

It has been raining all day, which means you were stuck in your goddamn house with nothing to do but cry about Changbin and your lost friendship and your broken heart.

After you manage to get some food into your body during dinner time, you crawl back to your room and look into the mirror as you comb your hair and moisturize your skin.

(Self care is important, y'all)

Your red iris stares back at you, taunting your mistakes and calling you a coward.

If only you had still tried to keep in touch with him, if only that stupid accident wouldn't have happened in the first place, if only.

Suddenly, a knock on your balcony door makes you jump in your place.

Shit. Is it a burglar?

You grab the closest thing that could be classified as a weapon - which happens to be an umbrella.

The knocking continues.

"Y/n, it's Changbin." He yells, "Can I please talk to you?"

You freeze in your spot.

Why in the world is he here? Does he have anything worse to say? Is he here to invite you to his wedding? But why would he sneak in through the balcony when he can easily ring the main door bell.

"Y/n, are you in there?"

You quickly walk upto the door and slide it open, revealing Changbin, completely drenched in the rain. His wet hair stuck to his face and "Shit. What the- God, come inside!"

He obeys and tiptoes inside your room, a guilty expression plastered on his face.

You guide him directly to the bathroom and offer him a towel.

"What are you even doing here, Bin?" You lean against the door frame, hands crossed over your chest.

He is drying his hair with the towel when he looks up at you as if to answer your question but he stops. His mouth hangs open as his eyes remain glued to your face.

And that's when you realize why he looks so surprised.

"Shit- fuck." You turn around immediately, "my lenses," you mutter to yourself.

But before you can even walk upto your dressing table, Changbin has caught your wrist and spun you around, pulling you closer to his body.

"Your eye." He let's out a shaky breath.

"Yes, I know. Please don't freak out. It's always been like this after -"

"After the accident." He finishes your sentence, "I know."

Your mouth runs dry as his face draws in closer, "What do you mean you know? What do you know?"

He let's go of your wrist and takes a step back, turning around so that his back faces you.

And when he turns to look at you again, you swear you could have passed out there and then.

"Y-you have it too." You whisper, weak in the knees, "You have a red iris too."

Changbin gives you a small smile, "Yes, y/n."

"But why? What does this mean?" You say, "Is it a symptom of some chronic illness?"

"It's a soul mark."

"What's a soul mark?"

"It's a mark that exists on the bodies of soulmates."

You feel a pang in your chest; like someone was squeezing your heart out of your chest.

"Right," You fall back onto the bed, dazed with the sudden piece of information, "And how do you know all this?"

Changbin kneels down in front of you, hands finding yours. He looks more relaxed than he did since the first day you come back to town.

It almost feels like you had been given back your old friend.

"I've been doing my research, y/n. After you left, this is all I've been doing." He says, "This is also the reason why I had gotten engaged. By that time, I had given up on finding a soulmate. So I just settled for whatever I got. I didn't even feel bad when I found out my fiance was not in love with me. For the world, we might look like a happy couple, but truly, it was just a marriage of convenience for our parents' business."

You bite your lips wondering how to respond to these words. He'd laid bare his heart in front of you, something you never thought he'd do ever again.

"What now?" You say, tired.

He intertwines your fingers, "Also, I'm sorry for yesterday. I shouldn't have said all that."

You nod, "It's alright. I know you didn't mean it. And for the record, I and Chan have nothing going on."

"And for the record, I also broke off my engagement."

Your eyes widen as a gasp leaves your lips, "What? Why?"

"Because when I told my parents that I do not love my fiancé, and that I have only ever loved you, they said my happiness was more important than their business."

When you don't reply to his words, he looks worried, "Hey, you don't have to feel burdened to like me back and all okay? Literally, if you want me to leave you alone, I will. I understand-"

You pull him by the nape and place the softest, gentlest, most sincere kiss on his lips.

"I feel the same way, dumbass." You sigh as you pull him into your arms.

He muzzles his face in the crook of your neck, playing with your hair from behind, "So what now?"

"Let's start with a date." You say, "Let's take it slow."

Changbin wraps his arms tighter around you, kissing your cheek, "As you wish, my love. "

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rockislandadultreads · 2 years

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Afrofantasy: Books to Check Out

Temper by Nicky Drayden

Two brothers. Seven vices. One demonic possession. Can this relationship survive? Auben Mutze has more vices than he can deal with—six to be exact—each branded down his arm for all the world to see. They mark him as a lesser twin in society, as inferior, but there’s no way he’ll let that define him. Intelligent and outgoing, Auben’s spirited antics make him popular among the other students at his underprivileged high school. So what if he’s envious of his twin Kasim, whose single vice brand is a ticket to a better life, one that likely won’t involve Auben. The twins’ strained relationship threatens to snap when Auben starts hearing voices that speak to his dangerous side—encouraging him to perform evil deeds that go beyond innocent mischief. Lechery, deceit, and vanity run rampant. And then there are the inexplicable blood cravings. . . . On the southern tip of an African continent that could have been, demons get up to no good during the time of year when temperatures dip and temptations rise. Auben needs to rid himself of these maddening voices before they cause him to lose track of time. To lose his mind. And to lose his... TEMPER

Black Leopard, Red Wolf by Marlon James

Tracker is known far and wide for his skills as a hunter: "He has a nose," people say. Engaged to track down a mysterious boy who disappeared three years earlier, Tracker breaks his own rule of always working alone when he finds himself part of a group that comes together to search for the boy. The band is a hodgepodge, full of unusual characters with secrets of their own, including a shape-shifting man-animal known as Leopard. Drawing from African history and mythology and his own rich imagination, Marlon James has written an adventure that's also an ambitious, involving read. Defying categorization and full of unforgettable characters, Black Leopard, Red Wolf explores the fundamentals of truths, the limits of power, the excesses of ambition, and our need to understand them all.

Son of the Storm by Suyi Davies Okungbowa

"Everything I love in a fantasy novel. Damn good stuff!" —Jenn Lyons, author of The Ruin of Kings In the ancient city of Bassa, Danso is a clever scholar on the cusp of achieving greatness—only he doesn’t want it. Instead, he prefers to chase forbidden stories about what lies outside the city walls. The Bassai elite claim there is nothing of interest. The city’s immigrants are sworn to secrecy. But when Danso stumbles across a warrior wielding magic that shouldn’t exist, he’s put on a collision course with Bassa’s darkest secrets. Drawn into the city’s hidden history, he sets out on a journey beyond its borders. And the chaos left in the wake of his discovery threatens to destroy the empire.

The Deep by Rivers Solomon, Daveed Diggs, William Hutson, Jonathan Snipes

Yetu holds the memories for her people—water-dwelling descendants of pregnant African slave women thrown overboard by slave owners—who live idyllic lives in the deep. Their past, too traumatic to be remembered regularly, is forgotten by everyone, save one—the historian. This demanding role has been bestowed on Yetu. Yetu remembers for everyone, and the memories, painful and wonderful, traumatic and terrible and miraculous, are destroying her. And so, she flees to the surface, escaping the memories, the expectations, and the responsibilities—and discovers a world her people left behind long ago. Yetu will learn more than she ever expected to about her own past—and about the future of her people. If they are all to survive, they’ll need to reclaim the memories, reclaim their identity—and own who they really are. Inspired by a song produced by the rap group Clipping for the This American Life episode “We Are In The Future,” The Deep is vividly original and uniquely affecting.

#Fantasy #urban fantasy #afrofantasy #to read #tbr #reading recommendations #Book Recommendations #Library Books #public libraries #book recs #books to read #urban fiction #booklr #booktok #book tumblr #science fiction #sci-fi #high fantasy #low fantasy

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bog-o-bones · 3 years

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Who the hell is CM Punk and why is he “All Elite”?

If you’re reading this post, you’re most likely somebody who’s heard the latest buzz around the wrestling world: CM Punk is back! But who exactly is CM Punk? You’ve probably heard the name before, either in the context of pro wrestling or as part of his time in UFC, and have always wondered what the big deal is about the guy. You’ve also probably seen or heard about All Elite Wrestling, up-and-coming wrestling promotion airing live Wednesday and Friday nights on TNT. But what exactly is AEW as well? That’s where this post comes in. In this long-ass post on Tumblr, you’ll be given a crash course on the history of one of pro wrestling’s most iconic superstars as well as the abridged history of AEW, the premier wrestling promotion in North America, allowing you to (hopefully) understand the significance of Punk’s return to the squared circle as well as give yourself significant knowledge of AEW enough that you can begin to enjoy the weekly shows they put out!

Okay, so who the heck is this CM Punk guy anyway?

To put it simply, CM Punk is one of the most significant pro wrestlers of the 21st century as well as the history of the industry itself. While he’s not on the level of mainstream recognition as Hulk Hogan or Stone Cold Steve Austin, Punk’s contributions to pro wrestling are arguably as important to the industry. To understand Punk’s significance, you need to have a little history lesson about the industry in the early-to-mid 2000′s.

When you think of professional wrestling, you probably think of one name above all: WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment. WWE was, and still is, the most mainstream wrestling promotion ever. People associate all wrestling with WWE, no matter what. But what about what’s below WWE in terms of recognition? The Minor League Baseball to its MLB? To that, we have to look at the independent scene.

The independent scene is, simply put, the underground punk rock of pro wrestling. It’s where the stars make the names for themselves to rise to the success. Indie wrestling is important because it’s where Punk began. CM (the initials jokingly standing for whatever is on his mind at the moment, ranging from “Cookie Monster” to “Charles Montgomery” or “Chicago Made”) Punk began his career in the independent scene around the turn of the millennium. He rose to significant prominence in the promotion Ring of Honor, one of the most premiere indie leagues in the United States. This prominence was brought on by Punk’s oozing charisma and wrestling talent, making him one of the best known “underground wrestlers” at the time. Then, in 2005, Punk signed a contract with the major league: he was WWE bound.

To regale you with Punk’s career in WWE would require an entirely separate post, so I’ll spare you the specifics and get to the good stuff: Punk was over in WWE. “Over” of course meaning the fans loved him. And why shouldn’t they? Big time wrestling fans knew Punk from his days in ROH and to see him rise to be on national television broadcasts and pay-per-view was rewarding. To those who were introduced to him, he was a fantastic talent and provided immense entertainment because of his talent in the ring and outside it.

Later on in his career at WWE, Punk provided one of the most scathing promos of all time, criticizing the company for its horrific decision-making and idiotic management. The promo was a “worked shoot”, wrestling lingo for a promo that seems like it’s breaking character but is all planned out (Punk was allowed to say anything he wanted, no matter if it was in character or not) but it was still extremely satisfying for the fans who agreed wholeheartedly with Punk about the state of WWE at the time. This promo (now known as the “pipebomb promo”) is just one of the many reasons why CM Punk has remained an immense fan favorite. The idea of a wrestler taking the mic, airing their grievances, and showcasing how a major corporation treated their employees with disdain and damnation is utterly unlike anything seen since Stone Cold Steve Austin back in the late 90′s. Punk, to many people, was one of the first of many “indie stars” that WWE had “poached” from the independent scene, turning them into corporate icons, stripping away their unique qualities as a person and transforming them into recognizable brands to sell merchandise with. To see Punk spit back at the WWE made a lot of people realize that enough was enough for them. Punk was the voice of the voiceless, a wrestler echoing throughout the halls that he wasn’t just a brand to slap onto a cheap mass-produced product, that he was a wrestler (in the mid-2000s at WWE, the term “wrestler” was seen as an irrelevant term, the terms “sports entertainer” and “superstar” preferred by management) in this business to prove himself as the Best in the World. And like clockwork, on July 15th, 2014, Punk was removed from WWE’s active roster after he had effectively walked out of the company weeks prior.

One of the most significant events post-WWE with Punk was his appearance on close friend Colt Cabana’s Art of Wrestling podcast. Colt’s podcast was known for featuring “shoot interviews”, basically interviews with wrestlers out of character detailing backstage information and telling stories. Punk’s episode of the podcast is significant as it eventually led to a total legal dispute with one of WWE’s doctors whose misdiagnosis of a staph infection was one of the reasons for Punk’s departure from WWE. Along with that, Punk’s general dissatisfaction with the “WWE Machine” as it’s been coined was another reason, with him even mentioning at times post-retirement that WWE was responsible for him never wanting to wrestle again. And so it seemed, as Punk later on signed with UFC in an attempt to get a MMA career off the ground, that the legacy of CM Punk ended with his tenure at WWE.

Until, that is, the wrestling world got a little...elite...

Okay, so I get who CM Punk is now, but what’s this All Elite Wrestling business?

AEW, All Elite Wrestling and the sole reason you’re reading this post right now, is the second biggest wrestling promotion in North America and quite possibly the world. Its inception begins with a group of wrestlers signed to the aforementioned Ring of Honor and a little bet made with wrestling journalist Dave Meltzer on Twitter.

Meltzer had proclaimed on Twitter that ROH did not have the capability to sell 10,000 tickets to an arena-run wrestling event. ROH-signed wrestlers Cody Rhodes (son of Dusty Rhodes and brother of Dustin Rhodes f.k.a. “Goldust”) and tag team brothers Matt and Nick Jackson (known as “The Young Bucks”) took Meltzer up on the bet and immediately scouted an arena for such an event. Partnering with Ring of Honor along with other wrestling promotions around the world such as Lucha Libre AAA Worldwide, Impact Wrestling, and New Japan Pro Wrestling, the trio promoted the event as All In and managed to sell out the arena in less than 30 minutes, even exceeding the goal by an extra thousand or so, becoming the largest attended wrestling event not held by industry leader WWE since 1993.

Naturally, the success of such an event caught the attention of many leaders in many industries. The idea that an independent wrestling event could create such a huge success in a time where WWE was kingpin of the industry was unprecedented. It was clear that the wrestling world was ready for a change and the numbers didn’t lie.

On the 1st of January 2019, All Elite Wrestling was announced with the running of All In’s sequel event Double or Nothing which would also be the inaugural pay-per-view event for AEW itself. Backing the company financially was Jacksonville Jaguars owner Shahid Khan along with his son and co-owner of the Jaguars Tony Khan, who would lead the company as president, CEO and head of creative. The announcement of the company was peppered with signings of some of independent wrestling’s hottest stars such as “Hangman” Adam Page, Joey Janela, Britt Baker, and Kenny Omega, often cited as the greatest wrestler in the world with multiple 5 star+ matches under his belt. Also announced were some of the most interesting inclusions: former WWE stars Chris Jericho and PAC (f.k.a. Neville) had joined as well. At the premiere event of Double Or Nothing, the most shocking addition to the roster made his debut as well: Jon Moxley, formerly known in WWE as Dean Ambrose, one of the highest-profile stars in recent history had jumped ship from top of the card in WWE to the newest promotion. Ripples in the wrestling world had turned into immense shock waves.

Alright, I kinda know the history now but why is AEW so important?

AEW’s significance today cannot be understated. Before its inception, the world of professional wrestling consisted of two pillars: WWE and the independent scene, and the two could not be less equal. WWE was seen by many as the top of the line, the area where a wrestler could be seen by the most eyes and where they could be paid top dollar moreso than any indie promotion. But it was also seen, as detailed earlier by CM Punk, as a place of dull, corporatized profiteering. WWE does not treat its wrestlers as characters in engaging, eventful stories. To the WWE, the wrestlers are no more than brands, recognizable faces and repetitive phrases that they can slap onto t-shirts and other merchandise to sell for a quick buck. WWE as a company does not care about the world of professional wrestling, even recently going so far as to call themselves not a “wrestling company” but an “entertainment” company. Wrestlers in WWE are not given the opportunity to come up with material they think will best suit the story of the match and appease the fans, they are given pre-written scripts of dialogue to act out as if they were in a movie and storylines meant to tell the story the writers want to tell rather than what the fans want to see.

For many wrestlers, the art of wrestling is a finely tuned craft. WWE’s corporate micromanagement of the whole process is utterly disrespectful and soul-crushing. At AEW, the story is different.

AEW’s creative team allows its wrestlers to do whatever they think the fans will like. While not necessarily allowing the wrestlers full creative control (Tony Khan, after all, has the final say on things), AEW at least allows the wrestlers flexibility to try new things without being railroaded by storylines. This results in characters like Orange Cassidy (see above) a wrestler whose entire gimmick is that he just doesn’t care. In his matches, he’ll lazily loaf about the ring, putting in the bare minimum effort at attacking his opponents except when the opponents REALLY strike back at which Cassidy explodes into an array of athletic fury while simultaneously never losing his cool. And it works! The gimmick worked insanely well on the independent scene, away from the strict guidelines of a major corporation who probably would not understand it, and fans adored Cassidy’s laidback, lazy attitude. And in AEW, Cassidy’s gimmick transfers flawlessly due to the company’s trust in Cassidy to make it work. And so, AEW remains a place where wrestlers can succeed not at the whims of an out-of-touch old man playing with his action figures in a way that satisfies only himself, but at the whims of creative people who believe in the equally creative minds out in the squared circle who themselves believe in the hearts of the audience, understanding full well what it is they want to see when they come to or tune into a wrestling program.

There are a multitude of other reasons AEW is probably the best wrestling promotion on the planet (ease of access, LGBT diversity among the roster) but the creative freedom it allows its wrestlers remains one of the greatest.

Okay, now I kinda get the appeal. So where does CM Punk tie into this?

As with any new promotion heavily allowing for greater creative opportunity for its wrestlers, fans are gonna want to see their big favorites join the roster. Names like Daniel Bryan, Aleister Black, Adam Cole etc. known from their time on both the independent scene and at WWE have been tossed around a lot during discussions in the past as far as who should jump ship to the promotion that will best suit them. But one person has always been the biggest “what-if” when it comes to joining AEW: CM Punk. As laid out earlier, CM Punk’s dissatisfaction with WWE was wholly responsible for his greater retirement from the pro wrestling scene. And when there’s only one really significant promotion on the market, why bother? Punk has been vocal in the past on Twitter, in interviews and many other places that his love for the business of pro wrestling was soured and that something truly significant would be required for him to return. It seemed natural to fans that, should AEW prove to be a significant competitor to WWE that, somehow, some way, it could lead to the in-ring return of one of the best to ever step foot in it. And when AEW announced it would be running the second episode of its brand-new show Rampage at the United Center in Chicago, Punk’s hometown, the rumors began to fly.

Punk himself is known for joking about and debunking rumors, hearsay and other lies about his potential signing with any wrestling-related outlets. So when the rumors began to fly that Punk was signing with AEW...the man himself stayed uncharacteristically quiet. And the wrestling world began to gasp...was it true, then? Teasers were thrown about here and there on AEW programming, small things that could go either way but to hardcore fans seemed to understand were plain as day. Punk himself even got in on the action, posting cryptic videos on his Instagram that fans eventually linked to the United Center and a return for the Best in the World. It’s been known as wrestling’s “worst-kept secret” and today, it was revealed in all its glory.

CM Punk, one of the original independent wrestling superstars, one of the few men responsible for changing the culture of professional wrestling in the 21st century, had finally returned home.

Okay, that was pretty explanatory. So now, where the heck can I watch all this?

Excellent question! AEW currently has three methods of airing content:

- Through their network TV shows aired on TNT

- Through their YouTube channel

- Through pay-per-view events

AEW Dynamite is the company’s flagship show airing Wednesdays at 8:00 EST/7:00 CST on TNT. All the company’s major storylines are told on Dynamite and the show usually runs for ~2 hours. There are over 90+ episodes of Dynamite and its not really required that you see every single one though there are many episodes that have aired in the past that feature matches, promos, and other segments worth checking out.

AEW Rampage is the company’s second show and currently only has two episodes aired. It also airs on TNT, Fridays at 10:00 EST/9:00 CST. Rampage has been given the description of being a little more “action-packed” than Dynamite, with shows only lasting for a single hour and featuring little promo time instead focusing primarily on matches themselves.

The company’s biggest stories tend to culminate in one of its four annual pay-per-view events. AEW pay-per-views are available via WarnerMedia's B/R Live service in the United States and Canada, and on FITE TV internationally. Additionally, AEW PPVs are also available via traditional PPV outlets in the United States and Canada and are carried by all major satellite providers. AEW PPVs generally cost around $50-60 and run for about four hours or so.

In addition to the two TNT shows and pay-per-views, AEW also runs two weekly shows on its YouTube channel, AEW: Dark and AEW: Dark Elevation. Both shows are generally referred to as AEW’s “developmental” shows, created mostly for unsigned or up-and-coming talent to showcase themselves in a taped format that forgoes the traditional network TV deals for easier access online. Dark and Dark Elevation’s differences are negligible but both tend not to crossover too much with the main shows, although some stories definitely do. Both shows run for ~an hour and a half on Monday nights at 7:00 EST/6:00 CST (Dark Elevation) and Tuesdays at 7 EST/6 CST (Dark).

AEW talent also provide a few extra sources of entertainment through their own YouTube outlets as well. The Elite, a popular stable in AEW consisting of current champion Kenny Omega and current tag team champions the Young Bucks, feature themselves in their own weekly travel vlog/comedy sketch series Being the Elite while other individual wrestlers like Sammy Guevara, Allie “The Bunny”, and Ethan Page provide more individualized backstage looks at the company through their own vlogs. These aren’t necessary to enjoy regular AEW programming but they definitely add to the atmosphere and you can tell through each how much the locker room loves and respects each other.

Wow, this was really in-depth and definitely not a small task at all. Thanks for the help!

No problem! If you have any questions, feel free to send me a message, though its doubtful I’ll receive it since I barely check Tumblr anymore! If you know me on any other platforms, the message still applies! Thanks so much for reading! I really do hope this helped you understand the situation a little better. Enjoy wrestling!

#all elite wrestling #aew #cm punk

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pennylanewrites · 3 years

Note

HELLO!! I rarely see any jearmin stuff ,, more eremin hcs really,, and I was hoping you could maybe please write some jearmin angst or give jearmin headcanons if you don’t mind!! 🙏😵‍💫💖

thank you for requesting anon! here’s 1.1k words of jearmin angst (with a somewhat decent ending) because I felt like crying tonight<3

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

All I know is suddenly without you, the bed feels too big.

Jean Kirstein wakes up every morning on the left side of the bed. Arms tight around a cold pillow, feet entangled with a cyan blue blanket. Jean drags his feet to the bathroom, he takes the pink toothbrush out of the glass, uses the remainder of a spearmint toothpaste. The note on the mirror reminds him to get groceries after work, a little heart at the end of the note. He did get those groceries, one month and nineteen days ago, but the fridge was empty now. And so was the chair by the window that looked out to the sea, so were half the shelves on the oak bookcase, and three of the drawers in his bedroom.

“Jean, look! My article was published on this magazine!”

“Congrats, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”

Jean read that article and every other of the same author, every night before bed. He found warmth and peace in the author’s words, the ones written at least; because the last ones said to him cut him like knives.

It was such a stupid fight, about Jean working overtime, or maybe it was about him being away for months to write his book, because why did he want to be away from me? That’s all Jean wondered when he left their cottage by the sea, to go to a secluded cabin and continue his writing. He’s the one who wanted this house, the one who wanted to leave the city, so why was he going back now, insisting Jean kept the cottage?

Jean would drink his morning coffee and then crawl back to bed. He hadn’t changed the sheets since he left. He knew it was unsanitary, but he didn’t feel dirty in the slightest. His smell had fainted away from the pillowcase and from the closed drawers, but Jean made sure to only use his cherry shampoo and body wash, only use his forgotten perfume that smelled exactly like the ocean when at its calmest. He sprayed it all over the house, especially on the cyan blanket he wrapped around him. He would light the vanilla-scented candles in the living room, leaving them to burn until the scent made him dizzy.

A daily phone call from Connie or Sasha would wake Jean from his trancelike state, he would laugh with them, they would ask him how he was and he would say he’s doing better. When the phone call ends, he bursts in tears, cuddling the pillow on the right side of the bed, cyan blanket covering his torso.

This time, it was a knock on the door that broke his eternal pondering. Stumbling out of the bedroom, still in his old shirt, though very small on Jean, he opened the front door. Expecting to see Connie and Sasha, he rubbed his eyes vigorously, hand signing for them to get in. Until he heard his voice.

They stared at each other for what felt like eternity. Bloodshot brown eyes met bright blue ones, until the latter spoke again. Jean could barely understand what he was saying, but he was letting him in, closing the door behind him with a creak.

“This is yours. I took it with me accidentally.” Jean looked down at a brown sweater, one that he barely remembered.

“Oh.” Was all he managed to blurt out. He felt so stupid and a huge lump on his throat made his voice higher than usual. He must have noticed, because the smile he gave Jean looked sad.

“The weather is starting to get cold here, so I thought you would need it.”

“Yeah.” He nodded, hands fidgeting with the sweater he accepted before he placed it on the kitchen table.

“Jean-”

“Armin...Sorry. Please go on.” Jean knew his tone was giving him away, every voice crack making his tears threaten to fall. Armin tucked a piece of blond hair behind his ear before clearing his throat to speak.

“Please attend Eren’s party next week.”

“I can’t.” Jean had tried so many times. Every time they invited him out, he would sit in his car and watch Armin go in the house of that day’s hang out, or the bar, the restaurant, wherever, and then drove back to the cottage again.

“Everyone misses you.” Armin mumbled, now fidgeting with a ring on his thumb. Jean noticed his ring finger was red at the base and that suddenly made him feel somewhat better. It meant Armin took it off before coming over. After all, Jean hadn’t taken the engagement ring off either. It sat on his ring finger proudly, only being removed during showers.

“Do you?”

“Jean-”

“Do you miss me, Armin? Do you miss this house? Do you miss the ocean, our bed-”

“I don’t.”

“You’re lying.” Jean muttered through gritted teeth. His vision was blurry and his cheeks suddenly felt hot and wet. Why was he crying so much? Why couldn’t he stop sobbing? Why was he on the floor, knees brought to his chest, hugging them?

And what was that weight he suddenly felt on his back? Whose arms were wrapped around him, wiping tears away? Was it Armin? Was it just an illusion?

“I’m lying, Jean.” A voice, as if coming from far away, drowned by Jean’s sobs. “I didn’t want to return your sweater. It smelled too much like you. I thought maybe, if I come here the house would also smell like you. But it doesn’t smell like anything at all.” Armin’s voice was also cracking now, tears mixing with Jean’s as he rested his cheek against the taller man’s.

“Everyone’s house has a different scent, doesn’t it? But you can’t smell your own home’s scent. You’re home, Armin.”

“I’m home?”

“Please say you’re home. I’ll make everything better. I’ll be so much better. For you. For your book. I’ll take you to every sea in the world, I’ll take you to the moon if you decide you want to be an astronaut instead.”

“Jean?” Armin’s voice, sweet as if it was dripping with honey, stopped Jean’s sobbing nonsense for a moment. Brown eyes met blue ones again, this time barely making out each other’s shapes, yet Jean found Armin so beautiful, even blurry as he was.

“Yes?”

“I’m home. I’m so sorry.”

“I love you. Thank you, thank you, Armin.” Jean’s tears stained Armin’s button-up shirt, but a smile still escaped his lips, for the first time in one month and nineteen days.

“I love you too, Jean Kirstein. Forever and always.”

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

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stopeatingwhales · 3 years

Text

"how come we've never spoken before?" x noel gallagher

why haven't I written anything for noel in ages??????? anyways this was so cute I hope u lot like it <33

Pairing: 1990! noel gallagher x reader

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 1.951

Requested by anon x

༉‧₊˚✧

“You wanna come over tonight?” Liam asked me as we were walking out of the sixth form building. “Our kids coming to pick us up so was wondering if you wanted to come with.”

“Yeah alright.” I nodded, linking my arm with Liam as we walked out of the gates together. Going over to the Gallagher residence wasn’t an uncommon matter, if anything I was over at theirs at least once a week. Since their father had left the environment was always pleasant, his mum always cooking the best, most delicious meals which caused your body to crave it again each and every day until you returned back for dinner once again. As well as that, being able to spend time with Liam was always an enjoyable experience - him being my best friend since first joining the college, we hadn’t been able to separate ourselves from each other since. Of course, we would have different friends, different groups, but we always turned back to each other - something that I adored most about our relationship; we didn’t constantly need to be with one another to consider each other our best friend. Whenever I was over we would relax in his room, talking about practically everything and everything, sometimes smoking a joint by his window to prevent his mum finding out, even though the stench of it would stick to our clothes like glue - giving it away instantaneously.

After exiting the school gates, we walked for a bit until we reached the nearest neighbourhood of houses, where Noel said he would pick Liam up. To waste the time, Liam brought out a spliff from his pocket, placing it between his lips, then lighting it, him failing a couple times to get the lighter to produce a flame. “Give me a hit,” I said, watching Liam as he quickly inhaled the roll of weed, then passing it to me, a wave of smoke hitting my face from Liam’s mouth. “Stop that you twat.”

There was hardly anybody outside, from the look of the area, merely just the occasional car whizzing past us, causing the empyrean of smoke discarded from our throats to diffuse into the atmosphere. It produced a clear contrast against the skies, which had little to no clouds visible at all. Having a clear, sunny day in Manchester wasn’t something ordinary; it was a rarity, but for the past year the weather had been brilliant, though brilliant becomes unlivable when the temperature continues to increase to the thirties, celsius wise. That’s when the nature of constant traffic, crowded streets and lengthy queues at the ice cream machine disperse into their homes - the sun being too strong it becomes a chore to leave the house. Having the world so silent, hushed, brings another kind of tranquillity to the mind. Watching an inanimate street fixated in the same position, as if it were a ghost-town, encompasses that feeling of being the only person present in the world at that moment, which makes you realise that the life you live is not lead to be controlled of dictated by others - it is yours, and it is something in which you hold complete control over.

After a couple minutes of small talk shared between me and Liam, a small car drove past us, stopping promptly as the windows rolled down, indicating that it was Noel. Me and Liam quickly rushed out of the sun that was beaming down at us, to get inside his car; Liam hopping in the passenger seat next to his brother whilst I occupied the middle seat in the back. “Hi Noel.” I said softly, smiling at him through the rear view mirror, our eyes connecting for a short second whilst he greeted me back, then turning to greet Liam before taking off. Mine and Noel’s relationship wasn’t anything special: we spoke here and there, but since he usually was occupied by hanging out with friends, or travelling as a groupie for Inspiral Carpets, we never conversed much. It was a mere relationship formulated from my closeness with Liam, as manners are important - even if Liam shows the opposite. I was quite intrigued by Noel disregarding his conventional absences; he seemed to lead a life which was exciting and alluring, and was a complete contrast against Liam’s persona from what I had noticed. Liam was more into sports, mainly football, and causing havoc wherever he could (me constantly joining him since he knew how to have an absolute good time), whilst Noel seemed completely consumed by music and the wonders of working with bands. Regardless, they shared some idiosyncrasies, one thing in particular definitely being their love for weed.

Once we arrived at the house, we were greeted by Liam’s mum, who welcomed me in lovingly. “Always a pleasure to have you over, Y/N,” she said as I broke away from the embrace we shared to allow me to take off my shoes. “Liam, I'm going to need you to help me in the kitchen today.” she then said to Liam, whose face then dropped in complete annoyance.

“Why?” he moaned in response, sighing at his mum whilst removing his shoes. “Y/N’s literally here!”

“Maybe because you haven’t done the washing up for over a week, Liam,” she responded, turning her gaze to look at me, rolling her eyes at his demeanour. “Y/N’s not going anywhere, it won’t take you a year.”

After we were able to get Liam to do his chores, I told him that I would be waiting upstairs for him, in his and Noel’s room. Once I went inside, I wandered around the medium-sized room, finding my way over to Noel’s side, especially fixated on the stack of records that he had owned, aligned by the table next to the record player. He had all sorts of bands; the Beatles, the Who, the Smiths, Sex Pistols... All the best artists. The more and more I found out about him the interest I had about him increased. He seemed like a cool older brother to have, and share a room with, even though Liam sees boys in bands quite odd - which is humorous, since he’s practically an entity of his own. Proceeding to pick up a vinyl by the Smiths, the album in particular being the Queen is Dead, I admired the cover whilst grasping it in my palms. The Smiths were the only band that seemed to use the most aimless, but oddy aesthetic images of random men as their album covers - most likely courtesy of Morrissey’s desires - though I suppose is one element which creates the artistic composition of the band, and their music. Snapping me out of the trance I was consumed in, a voice echoed in the room, one which was definitely not Liam’s. “Like what you see?”

Turning around to find out who it was, I was accosted by the sight of Noel, who was holding a warm mug of tea. Flustered, I placed the vinyl back in the stack before taking a seat on Liam’s bed. “Sorry,” I mumbled, looking at Noel whilst playing with my fingers in my lap.

View stuck on him, I watched him walk to his bedside table, placing his mug of tea on the coaster, then reaching out to grab the vinyl that was once embraced by my palms. “You like the Smiths?” he asked, his eyes now connecting to my gaze.

“Yeah I do,” I said, smiling slightly at his question. “That’s my favourite album of theirs actually.”

“Didn’t expect that from you,” He replied back, taking a sip from his mug of tea before taking the vinyl out of its sleeve and placing it on the record player, watching the needle intently as it gently dropped onto the black disc before sitting back on his bed. The title track’s intro then seeped into the silence of the room, paired by Noel humming along to it. “Think their debut was better, if I’m honest.”

“Well preference always matters,” I answered back, walking over to his bed to grab the vinyl sleeve, gazing at the lyric sheets, also taking a seat next to Noel. I felt his stare on me, but I attempted to ignore it as I focused on the little verses of poetry in one of the songs. “Morrissey is such a depressing writer.”

A laugh rumbled at his throat at my absentminded comment. Averting my gaze, I looked at Noel and smiled again. “I’m not wrong!”

“What else you into?” he asked me, curiosity laced in his tone as he diverted the topic.

“Everything else you listen to really, I looked through most of your vinyls,” I replied, watching Noel as his eyebrows furrowed together in shock, my smile widening as I felt my cheeks start to burn slightly - I had never thought that I’d be having a genuine conversation with Noel. “Especially the Beatles, Liam’s told me how much you love them.”

Noel was impressed, and it showed on his face quite evidently. “What’s your favourite album by them then?”

Looking away for a couple seconds, I thought of a response. “Probably Sergeant Peppers. Was their most innovative stuff, in my opinion at least.”

We continued to ramble on about music for a short while, Noel continuing to act excessively shocked whenever I had told him I had indeed listened or liked an artist he questioned. It was nice to finally discuss music with somebody since Liam was never really into it. “You’d never expect me to listen to all of this because I’m friends with a lunatic.”

Another laugh left Noel’s mouth, a smile stuck on his lips. “All he’s obsessed with is football, I don’t even get how you’re both mates.”

“Opposites attract.” I answered back, leaning back to have my back against the wall as we continued to talk. My cheeks began to hurt after a while of us chatting, due to the smile that was unable to leave my lips.

“How come we’ve never spoken properly before?” He asked, walking over to flip the vinyl to side B. “You’re cool.” he added in a mumble, almost as if he didn’t want it to be heard.

I felt blood slightly rush to my cheeks after the compliment fell from his lips, my top teeth clinging onto my bottom lip as a wave of nervousness washed over me. “Maybe because you’re always out.”

A hum of agreement rumbled from his throat as my eyes fixated themselves on the white ceiling. I could see that Noel was staring at me through my peripheral, which caused my cheeks to increase their redness, only slightly. “We should hang out sometime.”

Connecting eyes with him, I admired his dark brown orbs for a second, before I responded. “We should.”

Breaking our moment together, we were welcomed by an exhausted Liam rushing into the room, breathing heavily from his jog up the stairs. Falling onto the bed, me and Noel shared a moment of laughter as we simply stared at Liam’s state. “What’re you lot laughing about?”

Me and Noel turned to look at one another, sharing a gaze once again. There was a specific glint in his eyes which I marveled at, his face beaming at me, only causing me to reciprocate in the same manner. Our stare meant more than what it was, a certain tension was held between us that was felt by both participants. Especially for Noel, whose heart was pumping as if it were about to burst out of his chest, his cheeks a little flushed out of admiration for the girl sitting next to him. “Nothing.” we replied, giggling slightly as our eyes stayed glued on one another.

#noel gallagher x reader #noel gallagher #oasis #oasis band #Liam gallagher #britpop #nineties #my writing #90s #music #band imagines #fluff

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avinaccia · 3 years

Text

A Completely Objective and Logical Ranking of Every Hetalia Character Song

New character songs are dropping, I have too much time on my hands, let’s go.

Also here’s a Youtube playlist for the ~✨nostalgia✨~

Bring it on in the tags

71. Ah Legendary Class⭐The Awesome Me Highway [Prussia]: Absolutely tearing it up on the drums and on the vocal cords alike (I pray for Atsushi Kousaka). Great for the memes.

70. Happy Thoughts Museum [???]: This is listed as an official song but I had literally never heard of the title. Then I listened to it and BAM! Smack back to 2013 watching the teasers for the show on Funimation. Not sure I’d count it as a character song though...

69. (Nice) My Song that is written by me for me [Prussia]: Deafened me but I can appreciate the industrial grind.

68. My House is...Quiet. ~With the Trolls~ [Norway]: I have never heard this song, nor can I find any version of it online. By default it goes here and I am so sorry Norge.

67. Make a Wish to Santa♪ [Sealand]: The discordant notes and childish exuberance only serve to make this sound like a demonic plea to Santa to eliminate the singer’s enemies.

66. Heaven and Hell on Earth [Rome]: Rome sounds like he’s been in the corner of a restroom. Extra points for the metal version, minus points for the fact that the beach scene was replayed like 1764 times.

65. Canada Complete Introduction [Canada]: Quiet af until Kumacheerio shows up and blows out your speakers. they did you dirty my darling 😔

64. It’s Easy!!! [America]: I don't think any video of this has ever stayed up for more than 20 seconds. Sounds cool, but like I was listening to 20 different genres at once, someone make him calm down.

63. Bù Zàiyì the Small Stuff ☆ [China]: I cannot for the life of me find the complete song anywhere, clips have a cool beat though

62. Let's Boil Hot Water♪ [Italy]: Exactly what it says on the tin..though a bit too close to elevator music for my tastes.

61. The Fragrance of Early Summer [Japan]: Very ‘from the books’ Japan-esque song

60. Peace Sounds Nice…[Baltic Trio]: All well and good until the radio demon shows up

59. W●D●C ~World Dancing~ [America]: How a song can sound like it’s from 4 different decades at once is beyond me

58. Overflowing Passion [BFT]: This is just drunken karaoke and I have 0 clue what’s going on #iconicforallthewrongreasons

57. Ren●Ren●Renaissance♪ [Rome+Chibitalia]: Wholesome Grandpa with Grandson content - barring the fact that Italy sounds on the verge of a nervous breakdown and Rome has had too much wine.

56. Roma Antiqua [Rome]: Similar energy to any one of China’s songs - there’s a part of the song where it sounds like he’s singing in the shower, and I will never not laugh at [CENSORED]

55. Country From Where the Sun Rises, Zipangu [Japan]: Very chill, very Japan, but just meh for me.

54. Moon Over Emei Shan [China]: Good message, okay song.

53. My Friend [England]: What a mind palace you must have Mr. Kirkland

52. With Love, from Iceland [Iceland]: Three words: Heavy. Metal. Puffin.

51. Having Friends is Nice...♫ [Russia]: Russia is the cutest thing ever

50. Mm. [Sweden]: Smooth transition from WWE Smackdown to shopping at IKEA.

49. Why don’t you come over? ~Beyond the Northern Lights~ [Iceland]: I don’t want to be mean but...this does sound like the second closing theme to an anime whose first closing was much more popular (à la Soul Eater)

48. Gakuen☆Festa [Germany, Italy, Japan]: Sounds like a 60s song of the summer but oh dear their voices do not go together. Hella cute though.

47. Wa! Wa!! World Ondo [Main Cast]: One time I travelled 10 hours in a coach bus with a bunch of teenagers to a city of note in my country, and the only souvenir I bought was the fucking PAINT IT WHITE DVD. Perfectly chaotic, UN ĐĕùX~~

46. In the Bluebell Woods [England]: In the album cover for this song he’s holding a guitar but this is not a rock song. Still has ‘running through the hills’ levels of dramatism though.

45. Poi Poi Poi♪ [Taiwan]: You’re telling me that Taiwan, someone whose has *ONE LINE* in Beautiful World (which is criminal tbh what kind of representation-) managed to get an eNTIRE CHARACTER SONG???????

44. White Flame [Russia]: There’s something to be said for a song that is 3x the length of any Hetalia episode

43. Ich liebe… [Germany]: Baking cakes for your friends has never been so wholesome.

42. We Wish you a Merry Christmas [America, China, England, France, Russia]: Nice to see they’ve gotten their shit together since United Nations Sta-hmm.

41. Ah, Worldwide à la mode [France]: Sounds like a Disney Princess song, hard not to picture France frolicking in a field of flowers.

40. Che Bello! ~My House is the Greatest!⭐~ [Italy]: Would not be out of place in an advertisement for Sea World.

39. May You Smile Today [Japan]: THE feel good song of the summer

38. Let’s Look Behind the Rainbow [Italy]: I will protect you.

37. I'm your HERO☆ [America]: “Anyone who’s sad or sullen will be arrested” did NOT age well.

36. Mein Gott! [Prussia]: Alternating headphone effect at the beginning is cool, so is the confidence...the actual singing on the other hand...

35. Nihao⭐China [China]: Listen, all of China’s character songs are great, I just can’t vibe with this one like some of the others.

34. Pechka ~Light My Heart~ [Russia]: I’m still having difficulty wrapping my head around the fact that this and Winter were released at the same time.

33. Pukapuka⭐Vacation [Germany, Italy, Japan]: Seems just a bit too much like they’re running on a treadmill that’s picking up speed and trying to sing at the same time. Peppy.

32. Santa Claus is Coming to Town [Germany, Italy, Japan]: This is unironically the best song sung by this trio; can only vibe with for two months out of the year though.

31. Excuse Me, I Am Sorry [Japan]: Japan’s character traits speedrun. Gives me barbershop quartet vibes for some reason but is catchy as hell.

30. The Story of Snow and Dreams [Russia]: A superhero anime opening in the making

29. England’s Evil Demon Summoning Song [England]: Sir that is not how you roast a marshmallow, don’t cut yourself on that edge.

28. Moi Moi Sauna♪ [Finland]: Exactly the type of song you’d expect and it’s wonderful

27. United Nations Star⭐ [America, China, England, France, Russia]: This isn’t as much of a song as it is a four minute struggle for everyone to sing without America yelling every 5 seconds...Like a particularly musical episode of Hetalia.

26. Paris is Indeed Splendid [France]: Paris-pa-pa-pa-paris

25. Absolutely Invincible British Gentleman [England]: Poppy, rocky, polka-dotty

24. Vorwärts Marsch! [Germany]: To quote the comment section: “This sounds like a German version of I’ll Make a Man out of you.” There’s some truth to that.

23. Hamburger Street [America]: The product of America’s rapper phase. 8/10 because he’s trying so hard and because I can unironically sing along to all of this.

22. Hoi Sam☆Nice Guy [Hong Kong]: A song that would absolutely destroy the ankles of anyone in DDR.

21. I Am German-Made [Germany]: There was once a version that had Germany and Prussia singing at the same time and it sounded positively demonic and Broadway could never

20. La pasión no se detiene ~Unstoppable Passion~ [Spain]: Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show-stopping...

19. Fall in Love, Mademoiselle [France]: Sounds like it should be in Mozart Opera Rock, I have kiss kiss falled in love.

18. Embrace the Très Bien Moi [France]: This is the definition of SELF LOVE PEOPLE.

17. Carrot and Stick [Belarus&Ukraine]: Absolutely DRIPPING in 2000s power ballad energy. The type of song that plays on repeat in the mind of the widow whose millionaire husband ‘mysteriously disappeared’ (and the only legit character song ever acknowledged by the anime)

16. C.B.C (Cowboyz Boot Camp) Vol. 1 [America]: AH MAH GAWWDDD

15. Winter [Russia]: Heavy metal fever dream and the perfect song for an angst-ridden teenager

14. Seychelles Here ⭐ Vacation Island [Seychelles]: UN👏DER👏RA👏TED SONG👏OF 👏THE 👏SUM👏MER👏

13. Nah, it will settle itself somehow [Romano]: One day I aspire to reach this level of chill

12. Let’s Enjoy Today [England]: I will never not feel happy when listening to this.

11. Einsamkeit [Germany]: Ludwig manages to air every single one of his worries about not being good enough compared to his friends and always being perceived as mean or uptight when he’s actually just a softie and now my heart hurts. 💔

10. Aiyaa Four Thousand Years [China]: A very poignant and beautiful song about the passage of time and the inevitability of its passing; comparable to an ancient ballad complete with explosive crescendos and meaningful lyrics.

9. Bon Bon Bon❤️C’est Bon C’est Bon! [France]: Peppy, cheerful, adorable, groundbreaking; has been my alarm tone for six years and I’ve yet to tire of it. 9/10 The moaning interspersed throughout has been an interesting wake-up call.

8. Let’s Enjoy! Let’s Get Excited! Cheers! [Denmark]: This is on par with Everytime we Touch by Cascada in terms of rage potential unlocked (the good kind)

7. Dream Journey [Japan]: Whoever’s playing the shakuhachi is absolutely KILLING IT. Dramatic, wonderful, great metaphors.

6. Gourmet’s Heart Beginner Level [China]: Absolute banger, I’m a vegetarian but this would inspire me to eat shumai.

5. Always with you...Nordic Five! [Nordic FIVVVVVEEEE]: Everyone harmonizes beautifully except for Denmark. Extremely catchy, number placement seemed appropriate.

4. Pub and GO! [England]: I love this trash man

3. Maji Kandou⭐Hong Kong Night [Hong Kong]: If you thought Denmark’s song was a banger JUST YOU WAIT. I WILL BLOW OUT MY SPEAKERS LISTENING TO LO-HA-SU.

2. Steady Rhythmus [Germany]: THIS SONG IS METAL AF. Seriously, if it can be classified as ‘hardcore’ by my father and his group of 50-somethings who have decided to single-handedly gatekeep the metal and hardrock genres, it can do anything.

1. The Delicious Tomato Song 🍅 [Romano]: Beautiful, absolutely awe-inspiring, poignant, catchy lyrics with an extremely deep meaning that only years of meticulous research and analysis can unlock, Romano I love you.

BONUS: Closing Songs

5. Hatafutte Parade (World Series)

4. Hetalian⭐Jet (The World Twinkle): The song is good, the dancing is cursed

3. Chikyuu Marugoto Hug Shitainda (World⭐Stars)

2. Marukaite Chikyuu (Hetalia: Axis Powers): nE NE PaPA

1. Mawaru Chikyuu Rondo (The Beautiful World)

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apathetic-revenant · 3 years

Text

Vimes had never mastered ambition. It was something that happened to other people.

The Night Watch got up when the rest of the world was going to bed, and went to bed when dawn drifted over the landscape. You spent your whole time in the damp, dark streets, in a world of shadows. The Night Watch attracted the kind of people who for one reason or another were inclined to that kind of life.

Part of him was marveling at the sheer beauty of the sight, but an insistent, weaselly little group of brain cells from the wrong side of the synapses was scrawling its graffiti on the walls of wonderment.

The Bearhugger’s had worn off. He hated being sober. It meant he started to think.

The Watch was generally of the opinion that Samuel Vimes was at least two drinks under par, and needed a stiff double even to be sober.

“Have you had anything to eat today, sir?” said Angua.

“I had a bit of breakfast,” muttered Vimes.

“Er...I know this isn’t the right time,” said Vimes [currently engaged in a murder investigation]. “But, when the kids play hopscotch in the street, what’s the rhyme they sing? ‘Salt, mustard, vinegar, pepper’ isn’t it?”

He lit the candles by his desk and opened his notebook. Probably he should use the demonic organizer, but he liked to see things written down fair and square. He could think better when he wrote things down.

He felt more alive than he had for days. The recent excitement still tingled in his veins, kicking his brain into life. It was the sparkle you got with exhaustion, he knew. You were so bone-weary that a shot of adrenaline hit you like a falling troll. They must have it all now. All the bits. The edges, the corners, the whole picture. All there, just waiting to be pieced together...

Sam Vimes smacked his forehead. “Perks! Of course! That was the word I was looking for. Perks!”

He leaned sideways to Captain Carrot. “Who’re all these people?”

“Watchmen, sir. You appointed them.”

“Did I? I haven’t even met some of them!”

“You signed the paperwork, sir. And you sign the wage bill every month. Eventually.”

There was a hint of criticism in his voice. Vimes’s approach to paperwork was not to touch it until someone was shouting, and then at least there would be someone to help him sort through the stacks.

“And I thought...I thought, good grief, this is what I’m supposed to carry? And I thought about it, and then I thought, no, that’s right, just once someone got it right. It’s not even a weapon, it’s just a thing. It ain’t for using, it’s just for having. That’s what it’s all about. Same thing with uniforms. You see, a soldier’s uniform, it’s to turn him into part of a crowd of other parts all in the same uniform, but a copper’s uniform is there to--”

Vimes stopped. Perplexed expressions in front of him told him that he was building a house of cards with too few cards on the bottom.

Vimes’s desk was becoming famous. Once there were piles, but they had slipped as piles do, forming this dense compacted layer that was now turning into something like peat. It was said there were plates and unfinished meals somewhere down there. No one wanted to check. Some people said they’d heard movement.

Vimes was conscious of his own thoughts moving very fast, and they seemed to reach their own decision. We’ll explain later, they said. You’re too tired for explanations.

Perhaps it was because he was tired, or just because he was trying to shut out the world, but Vimes found himself slowing down into the traditional watchman’s walk and the traditional idling thought process.

It was an almost Pavlovian response. The legs swung, the feet moved, the mind began to work in a certain way. It wasn’t a dream state, exactly. It was just that the ears, nose and eyeballs wired themselves straight into the ancient “suspicious bastard” node of his brain, leaving his higher brain center free to free-wheel.

...Fur and tights...what kind of wear was that for a watchman? Bashed-in armor, greasy leather breeches and a tatty shirt with bloodstains on it, someone else’s for preference...that was the stuff...nice feel of the cobbles through his boots, it was really comforting...

“Sam?”

Vimes looked up from his reading.

“Your soup will be cold,” said Lady Sybil from the far end of the table. “You’ve been holding that spoonful in the air for the last five minutes by the clock.”

“Sorry, dear.”

“He writes in the manual,” said the demon nastily. “Did you know that, everybody? He writes in the manual.”

“Well, of course I make notes--”

“He’s actually sneakily trying to keep his dairy in the manual so his wife won’t find out he’s never bothered to learn how to use me,” said the demon.

“What about the Vimes manual, then?” snapped Vimes. “I notice you’ve never bothered to learn how to use me!”

Vimes, whose knowledge of geography was microscopically detailed within five miles of Ankh-Morpork, and merely microscopic beyond that, nodded uncertainly.

Lady Sybil was aware of this. Sam could coherently carry on an entire conversation while thinking about something completely different.

good evening everyone I’m not definitely saying His Grace Sir Samuel Vimes Duke of Ankh has ADHD but like, I’m not not saying that either

#discworld #discblogging

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teamsarawatshusband · 3 years

Note

Do you think there is a chance that WYB really believes in China's innocence in this? If people in China don't have all the information, then maybe he also doesn't know what is happening.

Okay, I’m gonna be very careful in how to answer this.

First of all, I don’t know him in person (obviously), so I can never know 100% what he does and doesn’t believe. Much like with any other celebrity.

My assumption on what he believes in this is based on what I know about his life and how that might potentially affect his thinking in matters like these. It is also based on what I know from my personal connections to Chinese citizens and what they have told me about politics and human rights affairs in the past.

Since Yibo is living in China, there is a big chance that he doesn’t have access to all the news regarding this specific political situation. So I do assume that he most likely doesn’t know the details of what’s going on in regards to the human rights violations and why exactly Nike spoke out against the government of his country.

However, he is very familiar with the business side of working with brands and he has had political situations affect career decisions in the past. So I can’t help but think that he knows things are fishy.

He must know that brands, especially big corporations like Nike, don’t make business-damaging statements against a whole country like this without global pressure. Let’s not forget, Nike like any other company, first and foremost has to think of their marketability and consumer’s trust. So, Yibo must know that consumers (not governments or political institutions but regular people) all over the world are watching the news and demanding that companies such as Nike take a stand. So, I’m assuming he knows that, in the eyes of the global population, based on their sources of information, the Chinese government is doing something bad.

Whether or not he believes this information to be true is a different question.

Now, if Yibo had lived his entire life in China, had grown up with the censorship and propaganda of the Chinese government throughout his life and not aware that this is different in other parts of the world, then I would assume he’d believe it to be false.

However, he has lived in South Korea for several years. So he did have access to a non-Chinese point of view on politics and life in general. He also has traveled to other countries professionally, both as a singer as well as an actor. He must know that independent sources of information are much easier accessible in other countries. He must know that the amount of freedom to publicly criticize a government or state personal opinions varies largely from country to country. I am convinced he is aware that censorship and deliberate spreading of misinformation is a common political practice in China. So, based on that, I do assume that he takes information from Chinese news with a critical mindset that doesn’t simply trust and buy into everything that is served to him.

He also has witnessed political situations affect his or other co-stars’ careers. He used to be in Uniq which, as all k-pop bands, suddenly wasn’t allowed to appear on Chinese TV anymore, even though they hadn’t done anything wrong. And a big change of course of action like that was kept all hush-hush in the entire Chinese media. He must know that this wasn’t fair, that they innocently fell victim to political agendas. An entire career, fanbase, performance platform simply taken away from all of them, one second to the next, and they hadn’t caused it and didn’t have any say in it either. Are we really assuming that they simply took that blow without wanting to speak out and fight for the success they had worked so hard for?

The 227 situation was very similar. The international success of one Chinese series brought so much traffic to AO3, that the Chinese government noticed it as public platform depicting values that they didn’t want China to be associated with. More importantly, a public platform with content that they couldn’t control. So they went and blocked it. And who had to suffer the blame? The government? Of course not. Xiao Zhan, who hadn’t done anything other that be an actor in the series. Because of this he lost so many marketing deals and job offers that people believed his career was over for good. All while doing nothing wrong.

Yibo, as the second main actor in the same series, 100% saw all of this go down. He knows that Xiao Zhan hadn’t caused any of it, knows that he was blamed unfairly. He also knows that remaining silent under those circumstances will only cause more harm to a career and public reputation. He knows that the only option is to say what you are expected to say, regardless of what you think.

And, I mean, based on all the situations that I have been in in my life, where I was forced to say something against my will, and based on knowing Yibo to be quite headstrong and having a competitive mindset... I just can’t picture him going, “Well, they make me say this. So, I believe it too.”

Now, based on what I have heard from people that I personally know IRL, I think some of the things that my aunt and uncle have mentioned left the biggest impression on me. My uncle is European but has lived and worked in China for decades now. My aunt is Chinese, grew up in China and only after meeting and marrying my uncle has traveled out of the country.

My uncle is very outspoken about life in China. When talking to him in person, he will tell you everything he personally experienced, including things like tax evasion, people avoiding police charges with hush money, countrywide blocking of messaging services and email providers, copyright frauds as legitimate business endeavors, illegal confiscation of items by police/border control etc. etc. etc. Basically, the gist of his reports is, “In China, if you are a regular person, you have to be aware of this, work around the corruption/unfairness and, most importantly, not make a big fuss about it. If you are somebody with money and powerful connections, you can buy yourself out of any situation. Unless if you stand in the public eye, then you’ll be used to make an example of - under the guise of a just and law-abiding country.“ He will tell you all of this, while over here. Never when in China. Because he knows the consequences.

My aunt is a lot quieter on the matter. She never directly spoke out against Chinese politics and never directly called out the issues of censorship and corruption. But she often asked, “Are we really allowed to say this here? Back home we can’t.” And when I talked to her about specific political situations she confirmed a lot of things with small examples from her experience. While my uncle is mostly angry when speaking about those things, my aunt is primarily careful in her phrasing. She very clearly loves her country dearly (who wouldn’t it’s a beautiful country with wonderful people), and she is very pained by how it is governed, and how that governing affects both the people living there as well as how China is perceived in the world.

I have never spoken to them about celebrities or specific entertainment issues, but what I do know from them is, if somebody in China is a public figure with success and a bit of wealth, they will:

- most certainly be aware that their government’s actions are often unjust and based on corruption and personal gain

- be forced to side with said government or, if they refuse, forced to retire for good

- have to do propaganda related work. Either, if they (or somebody close to them) did/said some non-government-compliant things, for people in power positions to overlook those, or in return for specific freedoms they wouldn’t get to enjoy otherwise.

Especially the forcing of propaganda jobs on public figures, I can’t help not relating that to Yibo.

Just compare some of his songs... “無感 Wu Gan”, for example, with his recent “青春恰时来 - Youth Comes in Time”.

Wu Gan is musically progressive, sounds fresh and goes with the genres and types of music Yibo has shown to love before. And he officially wrote it himself. Youth Come in Time, which he released but was neither composed nor lyrically written by him, sounds like a polar opposite. Musically, it sounds like what you would hear in a 90s advertisement.

And looking at the lyrics, I mean... that song has lines like “strengthen the country”, “we stand in the front row”, “I am with my country”, “the Chinese stage is taking off” - how is that not propaganda?

Do we really, genuinely think that somebody believes in this, even though in the songs that he wrote himself, and has stated to be about his own personal experiences, he says stuff like, “don’t become a puppet whose feelings are manipulated by others”, “every day there’s someone going on and off stage - just remain emotionless”, “You’re famous but you have no works and the voices scolding you only get worse”, “I’ve trapped myself and I can’t make my goals distinct”?

Do we?

Really?

I’ll leave that up to you.

#anon ask #yizhan #i'm not sure if i should tag that with his name

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