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beauty-and-passion · 3 years

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Time to talk about the flower shirt

You read the title. Time to talk about this.

This is the infamous flower shirt Thomas put on in his store and, since the fandom is the fandom, everyone started to speculate about those flowers.

At first, I didn’t want to do it. They’re just flowers and other people already talked about them, so what could I possibly add to the conversation?

But while I was writing about Orange, I had to talk a moment about the orange flower. It was supposed to be a small parenthesis, just a couple of words about that.

But then I looked at the other flowers and what other people told/not told about them and how some didn’t find Patton’s flower... so here I am, adding my two cents to this theme.

You needed it? Probably not. Well, I’m writing it anyway.

So let’s take a closer look at those flowers and see each one in detail:

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Roman: Red rose

Should I really explain why it’s perfect for Roman? Red roses are the universal symbol of love. Basically in all cultures red roses symbolize passion, true love, romance and desire. Also, according to this website, even the shade has a meaning! In fact, the deeper the red shade is, the stronger is the passion.

And even the number of red roses has a meaning! In this case, we have only one single red rose and that "represents love at first sight, or if it’s coming from a long-term partner, they are saying “you are still the one”.”

You know what that made me think? About Thomas telling Roman “You’re my hero”. A perfect symbol that he was “still the one” for Thomas.

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Orange: Lantana camara

This is an incredibly peculiar flower.

Lantana Camara symbolizes severity and rigour. And this alone can be analyzed in all possible ways, but there are other interesting details about this plant I think it's worth mentioning.

Lantana is toxic for livestock, such as cattle, sheep, horses, dogs and goats. According to Wikipedia, previous studies suggested it could be toxic for humans too, especially the green unripe berries. However "other studies have found evidence which suggests that its fruit poses no risk to humans".

Lantana is a freaking invasive plant. In some areas, it's so predominant, to reduce biodiversity, because its presence "can significantly slow down the regeneration of forests, by preventing the growth of new trees". Also, as if this isn't enough, this plant can also produce toxic chemicals which inhibit other plant species.

Lantana has also a great adaptability, that helped it to be so invasive: it can live in a wide range of different environmental conditions, it can survive long periods without water, heck it's even resistant to fire. It's not a plant you can underestimate. Like Orange, I assume.

But Lantana isn't just an invasive plant. Lantana has always been used for medical purposes, because it showed good antimicrobial, fungicidal and insecticidal properties and its extract helps against respiratory infections and ulcers.

Also, since it doesn't have many pests or diseases, lantana became a common ornamental plant. It even attracts butterflies!

In other words: isn't that the perfect plant to symbolize the double nature of a dark side? It can be a threat, change the environment, destroy and even kill. But it can also be a medicine, something useful, something beautiful.

Whoever Orange is, Lantana camara tells us that, whithout a doubt, he’s a dark side.

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Janus: Sunflower

Do you think Janus isn't perfect enough as he is? Do you think there's not enough husband material in the snek?

Well, you’re wrong and the sunflower is here to prove it.

Sunflower symbolizes loyalty, adoration, longevity, vitality, worship. Now add this up to the sunflower’s behaviour and how it follows the sun... and you’ll get Janus. Janus literally acts like a sunflower: Thomas is his sun and everything Janus does is for him. His whole existence is centered around Thomas.

But we already knew that, because it's the same message that shone through his playlist. Everything about Janus tells us how much he adores Thomas, from his canonical behavior in the series, to his playlist, to this flower.

Oh, do you need another proof that this is flower is perfect for Janus? Some societies use sunflowers as religious symbols. Ah, some good ol' reference to religion: it’s like being in his playlist all over again.

And, of course, sunflowers are used for a variety of reasons, like cooking oils, skin care and so on. Even the flower says self care.

This man is perfect.

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Remus: Green chrysanthemum

Here's another interesting flower.

Chrysanthemum symbolizes death and it’s the typical flower used for funerals. And I thought this was its universal meaning. It was perfect for Remus just like that.

But then I found out that Europeans use chrysanthemums for funerals and to honor the dead. This flower actually has a whole lot of meanings, some completely different from this.

In China, for example, chrysanthemums are associated with wealth, prosperity and long life. Also they're symbols of new life and reincarnations, so they're the perfect gift for old people or newborns.

While in Japan chrysanthemums are symbols of power and royalty. And that's even more fitting for Remus, because he's a Duke, so he is royalty.

But chrysanthemum also symbolizes friendship - and not just "a friendship", but a meaningful one. It's a symbol of loyalty, devotion, romantic/platonic love and, in general, positive energy. It's a flower with an incredibly strong meaning, so it can't be given too lightly.

And this makes it even more perfect for Remus. It's a flower with a huge plurality of meanings, it's both associated with life and death, it's powerful and it's royalty.

Also, you can eat it. Isn't that the perfect Remus flower?

(On a side note: please notice how chrysanthemums and sunflowers are both associated with joy, loyalty and devotion. I would have never considered "joy" a common trait between Janus and Remus while loyalty and devotion... well, they both care about Thomas and his career and they both work for him despite not being accepted, so I can see why those are common traits.)

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Patton: Nemophila

Surprise surprise, this flower wasn't easy to find. I’ve never heard of it, so I had to search among endless lists of blue flowers, hoping to find one that would perfectly match the one on the shirt.

And that’s how I found nemophila.

First of all: nemophila is also known as "Baby Blue Eyes" and it's an extremely rare color to find in nature. It’s very famous in Japan, thanks to the Hitachi Seaside Park. Open this link: it’s a literal sea of blue and it’s absolutely gorgeous. Of course, it attracts people every year.

Nemophila represents prosperity, congratulations on success and victory. Not the first things you would associate with Patton, right?

Well, while I was searching more informations about this flower, I found out this website about the essence of Baby Blue Eyes and the passage I quoted down below has the exact same words you can find on that link:

With its pronounced affinity for water, the Baby Blue Eyes flower essences addresses qualities of tender sensitivity, innocence and trust associated one’s early childhood relationship to the father, or other significant masculine figures that are in some way disturbed.

Very often the father was absent, or there was a lack of support or genuine presence. The Baby Blue Eyes type attempts over time to cover this wound of vulnerability with a false “hardening,” such as emotional distancing, mistrust, cynicism or spiritual alienation. It is a flower that can be equally helpful for men or women, although it is especially needed for many men who struggle to become strong, by disowning their pain.

So nemophilia’s essence has qualities associated with childhood, to the father figure and attempts to “repress” and hide emotions.

That’s Patton. That’s him, period. The childhood-related emotions, that are linked to Patton’s longing for “a simpler time”. The mentions of a father figure - who migh be absent or showing lack of support (like, idk, suggesting you should die so your friends live?). And the attempt to “cover the vulnerability” doesn’t remind you anything? Like the Nostalgia episodes?

This flower is Patton.

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Logan: Blue petunia

I would like to say, from the bottom of my heart, a huge "FUCK YOU" to this flower, because I spent TWO DAYS searching all the blue flowers in the world and all possible variants, asking myself why this goddamn flower looked so familiar and why it was so hard to find. Blue isn't even a common color in nature, so why couldn't I find it?

I've learned more about blue flowers in these two days than in my entire life. I've searched among flowers I never saw before, like glandora diffusa, leschenaultia and omphalodes verna. I was so desperate to consider this flower a new species, with the petals of a bellflower and the corolla of a morning glory. I even found a goddamn chinese variant of the morning glory that was somehow similar but not that much and why, WHY this was so hard to find?!

And then, after two days and a lot more desperation, I remembered: my dear friend @reptilianwithscallions told me about a post they made, regarding this shirt and the flowers. Maybe they had some idea about Logan's flower?

Well, let's all thank my saviour and this post, because otherwise I would've kept searching until the end of my days.

Long story short, Logan's flower is a fucking blue petunia.

And it's a very peculiar choice, because petunias have multiple meanings, several of which can be contradictory.

In general, petunia symbolizes anger and resentment. It reminds someone that you're still angry or disappointed by their actions and you haven’t gotten over the things that caused these feelings.

Oh my, I didn't know we were back in Logan's playlist. It's basically what he kept expressing towards Thomas with his songs: that he was angry at Thomas for his decision, that he doesn't approve that Thomas hasn't "a real job" and so on. Petunia is a flower that screams passive-aggressive, so it's perfect for Logan.

But petunia's meaning deeply changes, depending on the color of the flower. And while petunia in general symbolizes anger, a blue petunia is a symbol of peacefulness, intimacy and deep trust, shared between two or more people. It's so wholesome, because the deep trust reminds me - again - of Logan's playlist and how it ended: no matter what, he and Thomas are always best friends.

Also, petunia flowers have even a secret meaning behind. Since they’re also gifted to new neighbors or to people who have just moved into a new home, they represent a perfect welcome and a way to express affection and kindness to others.

You’re lucky to be so wholesome, you tricky flower.

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Virgil: Perennial Geranium

Geranium is a confused flower.

Some of the other flowers have conflicted meanings, but not as much as this flower. These are the most common meanings I found:

Folly or Stupidity

Gentility and kind nature

Clever minds

Ingenuity

Melancholy

Perfect gift for a bride

You can gift it to someone with whom you have planned a meeting

You can gift it to someone with whom you haven't planned a meeting, just to make them feel welcomed

True Friendship

See? It’s confused.

Aside from jokes, this variety of meanings is due to its great diffusion: since geraniums grow everywhere, every culture gave them a different meaning. And sometimes these meanings depend on the situation too.

Awww, isn't it perfect for Virgil? He can be good and bad at the same time. Anxiety can be bad for Thomas and detrimental for his life, but it can also be the alarm Thomas needs. It depends on the situation.

And, just like geraniums in general symbolize positive emotions, happiness and friendship, so Virgil is in general a good guy. All he does is for Thomas' wellbeing, not against him.

And this is confirmed by the vast use of geranium's essential oil. It's one of the most popular and it has a ton of properties: anti-viral, anti-bacterial, anti-inflammatory, anti-depressant, decongestant, relaxing and so on. Just like our Virge boy can be incredibly useful under the right circumstances. (Did someone say "Flirting with social Anxiety"?)

Also, geraniums are simple, humble flowers that usually grow outside, but then we take them and make them part of our homes. Once again, it’s Virgil: he's an outsider, he's humble, he talks bad about himself - but Thomas and the others took him and made him part of the famILY anyway.

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Thomas: Cherry blossom

I searched this flower everywhere and the only one that looks like the one on the shirt is the cherry blossom. Why did Thomas make a cherry blossom with eight petals, when they all have five? I have no idea. Is this a different flower, maybe? Maybe, but I’m done: I've looked at enough flowers and I don’t have any strength left.

As you probably already know, cherry blossoms are extremely important in Japan. They're beautiful, they're everywhere and they're meaningful.

Why? Because cherry blossoms are considered the perfect metaphor for human existence. When they blossom it's a pink ocean, a party, people go to admire them - but they’re short lived, because in two weeks, the blossoms start to fall. It's just like human life: a small, rich, glorious parenthesis in the void. Something little and precious that ends soon.

But cherry blossoms also symbolize rebirth, optimism, hopes and dreams. When they bloom, it means springtime is coming and spring has always been associated with renewal.

That’s a very good choice for character Thomas. He’s basically a cherry blossom, the whole series is: something that reminds us how beautiful life is, how multi-faceted, how important. Just like Thomas' single being encompasses seven different sides of himself, so life presents a wide range of choices, of aspects, of flavours. All beautiful, all worthy of appreciation, no matter how different they can be from you and your experience.

And this becomes even more important, in relation to the passage of time and the transience of life. Because life is short and, after that, there won't be any more time to appreciate anything.

In addition to that, I would like to point out how the theme of passage of time is something we already saw in the series. And not just one time, but several. Since the first season, we have episodes all around the concept of growing up, growing old, not being a child anymore, becoming an adult. And the last Aside keeps going in this direction. It's clear this is a big theme and its connection with the cherry blossoms proves it.

But why is the flower so different on the shirt? Because Thomas wanted to mess up with us? Probably. Almost certainly. Once again, thank you Mr. Sanders for making me question everything.

The floor is (figuratively) yours now: if you have any other information, thoughts or opinions, feel free to share them.

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writing-in-april · 4 years

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Solaris

Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

This is vaguely inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins part 9 of Here To Misbehave - go check it out it’s amazing!

Warnings- NSFW, public sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, swearing

A/N- There are real quotes from the movie in here but may not be in cinematic order, I got them from a quote website. Also the real Solaris movie is not 5 hours and is 166 minutes (it just feels ridiculously long).

Masterlist

Italics are Spencer’s translations.

Spencer and I rarely had a chance to have date nights, because of our jobs we usually grabbed every spare little moment. Usually that resulted in spur of the moment 15 minute dates when we finally had some alone time away from the team. Luckily for our stressed out minds Hotch had finally put his foot down on letting the team have some vacation time. I still am not sure how he got Strauss to agree to a two week vacation.

The two of us now had two weeks to do whatever we wanted, so we agreed to a plan, Spencer would plan the first week and I would do the next. He had been tight lipped about all of his plans until we made our way to the car and he finally broke. He confessed that we were going to see an old film he loved- a Russian film to be exact from 1972 called Solaris.

Spencer always planned out the quirkiest dates, while most people would be put off by movies that I couldn’t even understand or bookstores that were filled with academic books, it made him even more special in my eyes. During the entire ride to the cinema he gave me various facts about this obnoxiously long movie we were about to see (5 hours to be exact), letting me in on all the knowledge he kept up in his gorgeous brain.

“Did you know that the film was written Andrei Tarkovsky and Fridrikh Gorenshtein to attempt to give sci-fi films more emotional depth? They viewed western works in the genre as shallow due to their focus on technological inventions.” He rambled out at impressive speed as we pulled up to the small rundown cinema. Spencer often planned out dates here because they willingly showed foreign and obscure indie films, which he found more appealing over mainstream blockbusters. Plus the yellow tinged cinema lights and old time ticket booths gave off a vintage vibe that we both reveled in.

We made our way up to the ticket booth, my heels making Spencer slow his lanky strides significantly. I could tell he really wanted to sprint to get inside as quick as possible, he hadn’t seen this film in forever and it was one of his favorites. We finally reached the gate where a obviously bored teenage worker took our money and seemingly rolled his eyes at the movie we said we were watching. To a teenager what kind of couple would consider an old Russian film as a romantic movie. We grabbed our tickets, egregiously priced soda and a large popcorn that was probably going to be confiscated by Spencer halfway through the movie.

The theatre was completely empty, not surprising considering how obscure the film was. Spencer picked out seats right in the middle which gave us the best view of the large screen. I sat down in the plush red velvet vintage seats plopping down my soda into the cup holder and letting myself get comfortable. Spencer sat to the left of me already claiming the popcorn for himself as we snuggled up to prepare for the 5 hour movie we were about to watch.

The film started right on time, there weren’t any commercials (for once) and Spencer leaned in close to me to begin translating the film once he realized there were no subtitles. He seemed almost giddy to translate every word that I was undoubtedly missing that I was sincerely glad that the theatre hadn’t turned on subtitles. I loved seeing Spencer happy over quirky things. Though instead of being focused on the translations my mind fixated on how seductive the situation was.

I wondered if he knew what he was doing to me, his lips were a ghost around the shell of my ear as he quietly translated the Russian film. He always carted around an innocent persona wherever he went, not letting it get sullied by his work or the countless amounts of books he read.

“You're human. Each in your own way. That's why you argue."

I could feel the wetness steadily pooling in my panties as he continued to speak, being blissfully ignorant of the naughty thoughts running rampant in my head. Only he could make a sci-fi movie from the 70s about fictional planets sound sexy.

“Who was it? She died 10 years ago."

“What you saw was the materialization of your conception of her.”

“Incidentally, consider yourself lucky. After all she's part of your past. What if it had been something you had never seen before, but something you had thought or imagined."

His endearing innocence was almost painful, I knew he was missing the cues of my flushed cheeks, wriggling thighs, and heavy breathing. It wasn’t like we weren’t intimate as a couple but even when he was dominate I was usually the one to initiate sex. He always told me that even though we had been together for a long time he got caught up in the fact that someone wanted to fuck him. That conversation usually turned into me showing him how much I fucking loved him and how he could be shy just not insecure in our relationship.

I decided that I would have to be the one tonight to coax him into doing something in public. I had confessed before that It was one of my kinks but this would be the first time I would attempt to do it with him.

I grabbed his hand that was situated on my upper thigh and slowly dragged it up the coarse fabric of my jean shorts. Once his nimble fingers caught on the button Spencer’s brain restarted and he pulled away slightly in protest. He was feebly trying to pretend that the idea of fingering his girlfriend in a theatre wasn’t the hottest thing in the world.

“W-we shh-ouldn’t be doing this y/n!!!!” He whisper shouted at me meekly. I gripped his hand harder keeping it in position as my other hand undid the button of my shorts.

“If you’re really uncomfortable I’ll stop, but I just find the idea of doing something so risqué exciting. Don’t you?” I shot right back at him with a coy smile and I knew I had him right where I wanted him. He still looked hesitant but started to move his hand under my shorts on his own. I gasped quietly as his fingers bypassed my shorts and snuck right under my panties. His full attention was on me now totally forgetting his previous job of translating the film for me. He finally breached my folds feeling just how wet he had gotten me just from translating an obscure Russian film.

“See how wet I am Spence? It’s all for you.” I purred, grinding my hips onto his hand to try and gain some delicious friction. He seemed to be in a trance his only goal to please me, his gorgeous fingers started to circle around my entrance teasing me ever so slightly.

“Spencer stop teasing if you aren’t prepared to be punished” My threat got through to him and he slowly entered his middle finger making me quietly moan out. I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into a heated kiss to muffle my moans. The kiss was all tongue and teeth as he curled his finger to hit my g-spot which made me gasp into his mouth.

“More Spence-“

He thankfully listened to my plead and added another finger, my walls stretched around them giving me pain added with pleasure. To give me even more stimulation his thumb found my clit running in tight circles. I was approaching my orgasm almost embarrassingly quickly, Spencer knew my body better then I did at this point. Both of my hands pulled at his hair trying to force him as close as possible to my body. I screwed my eyes shut as I was shoved off the proverbial cliff. I could hear the faint sounds of Russian scientists from the film in the background which only added to the high, the idea of getting caught just made it so much better.

Spencer continued to stimulate my clit until I rode out my high, he then turned back to the film. He was trying to hide the fact that he was rock hard from watching me fall apart in a matter of minutes on his fingers. An evil idea snuck inside my brain, he had given me an orgasm but I wasn’t done with him yet. After I had recovered My hand moved over from my lap and gripped his thigh mimicking his earlier position. He hadn’t started translating the film again and was uncharacteristically silent. I waited for a few minutes before I enacted my plan the only thing I was doing was slowly inching my hand up his thigh.

“Start translating the film again pretty boy” I whispered while pawing at the button on his pants, I wanted to repay the favor of a mind blowing orgasm. He looked at me with slight hesitation when I dropped down to the floor but he was to far gone to stop me at this point.

“Y-yoou want to destroy that which we are presently incapable of underssstanding? Forgive me but am not advocate of knowledge at any price."

I smirked to myself as I freed him from the confines of his slacks and boxers, his translations had become a stuttering mess and I hadn’t even touched him yet. He was already painfully hard, the head was an angry red with precum dribbling down. I firmly gripped him relishing in the little gasp that already escaped his mouth.

“Spencer we are in public, your going to have to only translate if you want me to touch you at all” My voice took on a deadly sinister tone reserved for unsubs or Spencer when he was being particularly subby.

He nodded and I fully immersed myself into giving him the best blowjob of his life. I slowly dragged my tongue up his length savoring every time he choked on his words, his thighs were tensing and his hands were white knuckle gripped around the arm rests. My mouth then finally fully enveloped his length finally giving him the relief he was looking for. As I began to take him further into my mouth his quiet whispers jumped an octave, he didn’t let himself moan, he knew what kind of punishment he would get if he dared to break my rules. The head of his member hit the back of my throat and spit started to drool out of my mouth, I looked up at him menacingly, daring him moan out.

“Remember Tol-stoy? His suffffering over the impossibility of loving mankind as a whole? How much time has passed since then? Somehow I ca-nn’t figure it out. Help meeee-Fffuck! Y/N!”

He whimpered out, I smirked around his length in satisfaction- I had broken him. I evilly released his length with a pop, he whined pathetically in protest at the loss of stimulation.

“If you had just followed the rules baby boy maybe I would’ve let you cum” I teased while sliding back into the theatre chair and turned back pretending to enjoy the rest of the movie. He still hadn’t torn his beautiful caramel eyes away from me, it almost looked like he was going to cry.

“Please Y/n I’ve been so good until now! I made you cum earlier, please please!!” He was unashamedly begging now, I quirked my eyebrow in surprise, he usually didn’t beg this fast. I leaned over to whisper in his ear mirroring his position from earlier.

“I’ll let you off easy this time pretty boy- but- when we get home you better put in the work and please me. Understand?” His head bobbed up and down eagerly, he was relieved he would actually be able to cum tonight. I dropped back down to my previous position in front of him and took him back into my mouth, he immediately went back to translating the film not wanting to get edged for the second time that night. One of my hands gripped his hips while the other felt underneath his boxers and caressed his balls, I could tell he was close. He came soon after in hot spurts down my throat, I swallowed every drop while I looked up in awe at him savoring how I made him fall apart. Spencer’s breath was ragged as he came down from his salacious climax, I tucked him back into his slacks and once again sat back into the plush velvet seats.

“Holy fuck” he said uncharacteristically after he snapped out of his reverie.

“Shh, Spence I’m watching the film!” I said cheekily, he glared back at me with a glint in his eye. I could tell even though he initially protested he thoroughly loved our carnal adventure. Spencer resumed his translating and I was surprised that we were only around halfway through the movie.

Once the movie was over we passed through the cinema as quick as possible ready to continue the nights adventures at home as promised. We got into Spencer’s Volvo and he stopped to stare at me for a moment before we left the parking lot. My eyebrows furrowed as i looked at him curiously wondering why he suddenly paused.

“See, I love you. But love is a feeling we can experience but never explain. One can explain the concept. You love that which you can lose: Yourself, a woman, a homeland. Until today, love was simply unattainable to mankind, to the earth. Maybe we are here to experience people as a reason for love." I recognized the quote from the movie we had just seen, and even though we said declarations of love often this one felt a little more special.

“I love you too Spence” I said through my watering eyes. He gave me a loving smile and started the car so we could go home to continue the night.

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #imagine #solaris #criminal minds x reader #spencer #spencer reid blurb #mgg #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler smut

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possiblyimbiassed · 4 years

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John’s “therapeutic” blog

I’ve been fascinated by the wealth of content in John Watson’s blog since I first noticed it; I think it was some time after S2. For being a complementary work to a TV show, it’s surprisingly well crafted and packed with information. Joe Lidster, who has written the fictional blogs and websites of John, Sherlock, Molly and Connie Prince, is a screenwriter who has been working also with Doctor Who and its spinoff Torchwood.

Unlike the rest of the content within the BBC Sherlock franchise, for example the online game ”Sherlock the Network”, the escape room “The Game is Now” or the book “Sherlock Chronicles”, John’s blog is fully available online for free, you don’t even have to register anywhere. And unlike the other blogs of the franchise (Molly’s and Connie Prince’s blogs and Sherlock’s website), John’s blog is lengthy and has a lot of posts in it. It gives us background and explanations of cases that aren’t mentioned in the show, or only referred to, and I also think it provides a “second opinion” of what we see in the show. It’s a bit like what John says in TLD:

It certainly seems like this blog has been created as a special little treat for the fans, since most of the casual viewers of the show probably don’t even know it exists ‘IRL’. But I think the blog is much more than that; partly because it’s so heavily referenced in the show – with frequent, accurate and exact pictures of it (at least until S4) – and partly because it tells us so much about John’s character. I think John’s blog is significant and important in trying to analyse BBC Sherlock. And maybe the version of John we see in the show will actually get more nuances to it if we look at the blog, which is expressly written by John himself?

More under the cut.

As some of you might know, I’ve written a meta series (X) where I try to explore the idea (originally from @raggedyblue) that the blog describes the ‘real’ events in John’s and Sherlock’s life more accurately than the show, and that what we see in the show up until HLV is Sherlock reminiscing their life together while reading up on the blog. In my view, the show might be Sherlock’s embellished and dramatized version of the events - ironically a bit similar to what Sherlock usually accuses John of doing in both Doyle’s canon and on the blog. But I find the blog’s writing style far more prosaic than the show, and also more prosaic than Watson’s stories in ACD canon; in BBC Sherlock the roles might have been inverted compared to canon.

An example of this would be the scene in TEH (which I talked about in this meta over a year ago) where Mary is (supposedly) reading the following un-published post directly from John’s blog editor:

“His movements were so silent. So furtive, he reminded me of a trained bloodhound picking out a scent. I couldn’t help thinking what an amazing criminal he’d make if he turned his talents against the law.”

Something doesn’t seem quite right here, though. While the rest of the post is text from another, already published, post (The Speckled Blond), this first part is taken almost verbatim from ACD’s story The Sign of Four (SIGN). It describes a crime scene where Holmes has just “whipped out his lens and a tape measure and hurried about the room on his knees, measuring, comparing, examining, with his long thin nose only a few inches from the planks and his beady eyes gleaming and deep-set like those of a bird”. I see a big style difference between this and the rest of John’s blog. Since the quote above never appears on the ‘IRL’ blog, I’d rather believe that in BBC Sherlock this is merely wishful thinking from Sherlock that happens inside his Drama Queen Mind Palace. This impressive description is, I think, what he would truly wish that John had written. ;)

I also suspect that the continuing references to different blog posts in S4 are all made up in Sherlock’s mind, since John’s blog ‘IRL’ stopped updating after TSoT, when Sherlock hacked it and took over the storytelling.

Be that as it may, this meta is a reflection upon what John Watson’s famous blog actually might stand for, and what I believe it tells us about his character. In these months of quarantine, I’ve been passing the time by reading through the whole online version of the blog and taking notes of it.

Therapeutic origin

It seems like the initiative for John to start a blog came from Ella Thompson, his therapist. I believe Ella’s initial idea was therapeutic; if it was almost impossible for John to talk to her about his feelings and inner problems in their sessions, she might have found it difficult to help him. Therefore she suggested that he write it all down on his own instead. And if Ella could persuade him to talk about his life on an online blog, she would also be able to read it.

Of course this wouldn’t be the same as if John told her about his inner reflections in confidence, in a real therapy session, but maybe the blog would give him an incentive to talk about his life at all. And you have to start somewhere.

At the end of TST we see Sherlock visit Ella, but when she asks him to “open up completely” he refuses.

If S4 is happening inside Sherlock’s head (as I believe it is), this might have been Sherlock’s way of trying to psychoanalyse John, to ‘solve John’s case’, by envisioning the therapy situation in his mind palace. A well-known method of Sherlock Holmes is that he tries to put himself in the other person’s place and think about what his own response would have been to the situation. In ACD’s story The Musgrave Ritual (MUSG), Holmes says: “You know my methods in such cases, Watson. I put myself in the man’s place, and, having first gauged his intelligence, I try to imagine how I should myself have proceeded under the same circumstances.”

Which is also evidence that the character of Sherlock Holmes does indeed not lack empathetic capacity. Also in the show, John’s assertion that Sherlock “doesn’t feel things that way” etc. is basically BS in my opinion. The problem is that John refuses to see this.

John’s state of mind before Sherlock

John’s first three blog posts (in the middle of December - January) seem to completely lack motivation.

And this is maybe what one could expect from the deeply depressed John (as he appears in the beginning of the show), isn’t it? No surprises there.

Everything seems meaningless, and John only makes two attempts at blog posts to comply with Ella’s recommendations, but he doesn’t actually write anything in them. After the second attempt his old army friend Bill Murray tries to contact him, but John seems to have cut off his ties with the rest of the world; he doesn’t answer the comment.

At the third attempt over a month later, John seems to want to delete the blog he has started, but lacks the technical knowledge to do so. The fourth attempt is just a snide comment to Ella:

She doesn’t respond, however (not very surprisingly perhaps). Instead, John’s sister Harry discovers the blog and tries out this means of communicating with him. But John ignores her.

But at the fifth attempt at least John has gone out with some friends and describes it – almost bitterly. Sadly, it also seems like John met up with them mainly to avoid his therapy session with Ella.

So, the problem is that whatever Ella may have thought that the blog would mean for John’s healing, I think she aimed well but unfortunately missed the target. John Watson does not ‘open up’ himself on the blog. When he finally starts to really write - after he met Sherlock - it’s not actually about him (supposedly); it’s all about Sherlock. Basically, John goes directly from ‘Nothing happens to me‘ to ‘Sherlock happens to me‘.

What the blog tells us about John ‘after Sherlock’

John’s blog may be all about Sherlock, but there isn’t actually that much praise for Sherlock in the blog posts as one might think. My impression is that John applies his (perhaps somewhat overestimated) writing skills to project his own failures and self-loathing on his closest friend. More than anything else, I think the blog is John’s emotional outlet for his frustration over his unsatisfactory relationship with Sherlock and his own inability to improve it. Instead of trying to actually talk to Sherlock, he uses the blog to vent his frustrations over Sherlock, speculating wildly about what he believes Sherlock is thinking and feeling.

The stories and adventures are thrilling and entertaining, yes. But his assessments of Sherlock’s character are really not very uplifting. John doesn’t strike me as an ‘analytic’ person, which in this case means that John’s theories about Sherlock are rather based on his personal emotions than logical conclusions. It’s sometimes even a bit difficult to follow the chain of events in John’s posts, because it’s usually so intertwined with his gossipy and out-of-context comments about Sherlock’s personality.

Unfortunately, Sherlock doesn’t seem to realise this projection, and neither do we see him address the issue of John’s misconceptions about him. I believe Sherlock takes many of John’s jibes and insults at him at face value, which – sadly - only adds on to his own self-loathing. I also think that Sherlock trying to draw conclusions about his mysterious friend through the written blog might be a mistake; it may eventually tell him a lot about John’s problems, but to see these he needs to look behind all the cover-up of blatant criticism of him, Sherlock. Maybe that’s what Sherlock’s trying to do in S4, by setting up scenarios in his mind palace?

Judging by how John comes across on the blog – and in the show – I think Sherlock’s claim “You’re abnormally drawn to dangerous people and places” in HLV is a perfectly sound analysis - on the surface. However, I think one must read between the blog lines in order to see other possible motives for John wanting to hang out with Sherlock. Reading John’s posts textually, he gives a strong impression that he’s there for the adventures; when there is danger in the air, John’s never bored.

In the comment section Sherlock never mentions John’s evaluation of his character. Instead he repeatedly criticises John’s writing style. I get the impression that this is Sherlock’s subtle way of getting back at John without having to directly address John’s misconceptions about him. As I said above, I think John’s writing style is very different from Watson’s style in canon; far less respect for Sherlock and a far more prosaic and simple language. Canons Watson seems careful not to speculate much, while John does this all the time.

Examples that form a pattern

There’s a good deal of praise of Sherlock in John’s posts, but it has almost exclusively to do with his admiration for Sherlock’s intellectual capacity; he’s repeatedly described as ‘clever’ and after the Fall, John claims that “nobody ever really outwitted Sherlock”. But in fact, I’ve found very few blog posts where John doesn’t also criticise or complain about Sherlock in some way or another. And there are only two posts (out of a total of 45) where John says something positive about Sherlock’s character:

1. After their first meeting he calls Sherlock “strangely likeable” and “charming”.

2. In what John meant to be his last post ever (he believed Sherlock was dead), he calls Sherlock “funny”, “charming” and “everything a good person should be”.

On the other hand, there seems to be nothing in John’s own (supposed) opinions about Sherlock that he regards as too negative or inappropriate to publish online. I very much think this is about self-loathing; he projects his own shortcomings on his “psychopath” friend and flatmate. Like it’s always a relief to have a scapegoat. An additional explanation might be that if John is closeted and in public denial about any romantic feelings for Sherlock, this makes him not want to appear too ‘besotted’ on the blog. ;) Thus, he might believe he needs to compensate the praise with criticism. Problem is, with this contradictory approach the readers might ask: What is John’s actual relationship to Sherlock? Handler? Hostage? Lover? Concerned citizen? It’s hard to claim he’s a ‘real’, professional colleague, since John’s actual profession is a medical doctor. But why would John be friends with a psychopath?

To seriously claim that his best friend is a psychopath seems perfectly OK to John, though – he does it repeatedly, and quotes Donovan’s claim that Sherlock “gets off on it”. At the end of A Study in Pink, John talks about Sherlock and the serial killer as if they were both psychopaths, one undistinguishable from the other:

“The taxi driver drove him to a college of further education so they could both educate each other on - well, on how their minds worked, I guess. It's not something I'll ever really understand and, to be honest, I'm not sure I ever want to understand it. To be that much of a psychopath. To be that above the rest of us.”

John even seems to pretend to prefer ignorance to understanding, only to find one more opportunity to blame Sherlock. Here are some examples of other things John calls Sherlock publicly on the Internet:

Arrogant

Rude

Imperious

Pompous

Madman

Freak

Childish and

Not safe.

He also says on the blog that Sherlock is spectacularly ignorant about some things, like the solar system.

Little Freudian slips

In the post titled The Speckled Blonde

(which is basically a re-count of canon’s The Speckled Band - SPEC) John’s closet angst reaches new heights:

Apparently John finds it important to preventively point out to his readers that he was not sharing a bed with Sherlock. Or, actually, that he even preferred sleeping on the floor before sharing a bed with his flatmate. The thing is, however, that the information that they spent the night in Julias bedroom isn’t at all necessary for the story, since - unlike in ACD Canon - nothing of importance apparently happened during that night. John actually tells us nothing about the night as such. The only ‘feature of interest’ is that Sherlock found a suspect bottle of bubble bath on the victim’s night table, which he took to Barts for analysis (and he was right - the bath had killed Julia by poisoning). Obviously, John could have described this crime scene investigation entirely without mentioning that they had spent the night there. So, if this little morsel of information was so embarrassing for him, why did he even include it? Hmm...

In my biased mind, I can only think of two alternative explanations (not mutually exclusive, though): 1. John had spent so much fantasies and subconscious energy on reliving this night that he just couldn’t keep this info entirely to himself (Freudian slip), or 2. Something actually happened that night - something that had no bearing on the case. After all, John never says that he slept on the floor, only that he was going to sleep on it. ;)

Speaking of bubble bath, I find the fact that Julia died from it slightly suggestive, and even metaphorical, as such. Because there’s also another case on John’s blog describing someone dying in a bath: The Deadly Tealights. The victim suffocated in a bathroom where the candles consumed all the oxygen. John has included this little comment:

Why does John bring up the idea that a person taking a bath with candles would potentially be judged? What has his own bath routines to do with the crime case? Does the victim really need John to find excuses for his private life? Methinks this rather might be John’s closet angst speaking again. Someone has tried to belittle John for liking baths, and apparently John seizes the opportunity to vent about it on the blog. Metaphorically, this tells me that the closet is suffocating for John, and that the ‘chemistry of love’ is involved.

John - The Moral Compass

John is often referred to as the part of the duo who a) is more sociable and b) works like a sort of moral guide to Sherlock. The detective, on the other hand, is shown as a “sociopath” who supposedly doesn’t understand this kind of things. And – to be honest – Sherlock doesn’t actively say much to contradict this perception; sometimes he even appears to agree with it.

(I think his actions should be a clue to the contrary, though).

According to the blog, John seems to believe he himself is the adult one in this acquaintance, the one who does understand the rules of society. He repeatedly calls Sherlock “childish”. Judging by John’s descriptions in the blog, one might almost think that John had been forced to hang out with Sherlock, trying to do the best of it. But seeing as it’s entirely voluntarily it’s a bit hard to understand, for example, how John can blame Sherlock for “leaving me and Sarah to be kidnapped” in The Blind Banker:

John makes is sound like Sherlock left them to the enemy deliberately, knowing that someone would come after them. But weren’t they at home, supposedly on a date? If John didn’t like it, couldn’t he have left any moment and gone out to continue the date he was supposed to? But no; John counts himself among the innocent persons whom Sherlock “involves in his adventures”:

After reading the whole of John’s blog, all I can say is that this guy is a living, breathing contradiction. How can he be Sherlock’s moral compass if his needle is spinning all the time? :))

In The Great Game John describes himself as just a “pawn” in Sherlock’s and the killer’s great game, equalling himself with the other victims. With his insinuations, he indirectly blames Sherlock for the death of 12 people and goes back to Sally Donovan’s “freak” accusations:

Another interesting bit is this, describing Sherlock’s reaction at the pool, when John for a moment appeared to be behind everything: “I should have been horrified that he'd even doubt me for a second…” Wait – what!? John is capable of telling the whole world the most damning rubbish about his friend, but if Sherlock for any second doubted John, he’d be horrified? This part is also of interest: “But the laser sight simply moved to Sherlock's head and I was forced to let go. For a second, I wondered if Sherlock would have done the same for me but then all I knew for certain was, at that moment, I knew I was going to die.”

Before that, John had just described what could easily be interpreted as Sherlock calmly trying to talk Moriarty out of having John killed, but to John this was just “The two men talked, both clearly pleased to…”. In John’s view, he was the only one who was forced to let go of the killer because of the threat to Sherlock. Honestly, who is it, between the two of them, that most appears to lack empathetic capacity?

Creds and Competence

John appears to be a rather honest, humble and straightforward in the show, quite competent in his medical profession, and in TSoT he is highly praised by Sherlock:

But on the blog John is more ambiguous, and he isn’t always modest. Sometimes he appears to enhance his own role in the crime solving and take credit also for things that are clearly Sherlock’s doing. For example, in The Great Game there’s this:

“Between us, we worked out that while Connie's death had been made to look like the result of a tetanus infection, it had actually been caused by poison - their houseboy, â–“â–“â–“â–“â–“, had overdosed her on Botox!”

But if we’re supposed to believe the show, John actually believed it was a tetanus infection, while Sherlock deduced and later demonstrated poison:

John also expresses a slightly childish vindictiveness in making a lot of fuss about Sherlock’s failures; every single time Sherlock can’t solve a case, John points it out on the blog with glee. It almost gives me the impression that the doctor is suffering from inferiority complex. He even uses “Sherlock Holmes Baffled“ as a title for one of their cases.

This seems to be written in jest, since Sherlock frequently is rude about other people’s lower intellectual capacity, but actually hates ‘not knowing’.

I admit that this may be funny to joke about once, but it gets a little tiresome that John has to point it out every time. Why does John even do this, even as Sherlock has explicitly asked him to not publish the unsolved cases? Which I assume would not be good for their business?

If John truly is Sherlock’s colleague, wouldn’t he also be more interested in helping to solve the cases, rather than talk about the failures? It seems to me that John is struggling so hard against his own feelings for Sherlock that he feels the need to provoke rather than help him.

The Most Inhuman Human

Sherlock’s supposed lack of humanity is a recurring theme for John; he claims that “people” want to know that Sherlock is human, as if anyone - on the blog or in the show - except John had ever questioned this.

I can’t remember anyone on the blog except John showing an interest in this issue, though. In the post Many Happy Returns he writes this (my bolding):

“Yet the video... it showed the other side to him. He was rude, yeah. Arrogant. Apparently lacking in anything resembling empathy. But I'd forgotten just how funny he could be. He was so charming. So... human. It's bizarre because most people would say he was the most inhuman person they'd ever met. But he wasn't.”

He wasn’t? Wow - great revelation, John! [sarcasm :)]. But who said that, actually? Not even the haters and trolls on John’s blog ever claimed Sherlock was inhuman. It’s one thing that Donovan and Anderson called him a freak and a psychopath, but John is the only character I can think of who has ever implied that Sherlock would not be a human being. Only John calls him a ‘machine’. Which is a load of BS of course; John really doesn’t strike me as a professional doctor when he says this, even less as a friend - always trying to mark the distance.

So what’s Sherlock’s ‘complete lack of empathy’ in that video actually about (mini-episode here)? Was it because he didn’t want to go to a birthday dinner with people? Hardly - John seems to understand this about Sherlock. Or was it maybe because of his comment: “How can John be having a birthday dinner? All his friends hate him!” Well, this probably hurt a bit (even if I rather think he sounds bitter and jealous - he wants John for himself ;) ). On the other hand, Sherlock then backtracks and seems to regret his little outburst:

Mary’s role in John’s life

The blog is where Mary Morstan appears to be introduced to John; on John’s first blog post about at least a year after Sherlock’s ‘death’, she suddenly just shows up in the comment section, sending him kisses and inviting him out:

John ignores her, though, and when his sister asks him who Mary is, he doesn’t answer. Mary seems to hang in there, however, and the next time she appears is on the Deadly Tealights post (the one with the dead flatmate in the suffocating closet bathroom). And now she’s called Mary Morstan. Next time is The Inexplicable Matchbox. Both times her only comment is ‘ignore the trolls’. John rather seems to ignore her, though. Finally, he finishes his Many Happy Returns post (which was supposed to be his last) with saying that he has now “found someone” (without naming them) and should concentrate on that.

All this is a little bit weird, though, considering Mary’s comment in TEH, when she is logged in and reading aloud from the editor of John’s blog: “The famous blog, finally!” As if she hadn’t already read all his posts and tried to interact with him on the blog? Hmm.

In the show Mary just seems to come from out of nowhere, suddenly showing up in the graveyard holding hands with John.

Her anonymity reminds me of Doyle’s treatment of Mary in canon, where she’s only mentioned by name when she’s still a client, before she marries Watson.

On the blog Mary is not mentioned by name until over a year after John met her, in spite of her presence in the comment section long before that. And it’s not until John’s first post after Sherlock’s return - The Empty Hearse - that John says something appreciative of her. Suddenly she is (still without name) "...the best thing that's ever happened to me. Sorry, Sherlock :)”. For the rest of the blog posts, John’s (very scarce) answers to Mary’s comments are never flirty or appreciative in the least. Mary’s own last comment, on the very last post - this time written by Sherlock who hacked the blog after John’s and Mary’s wedding - is this: “SHERLOCK! SHUT UP NOW!”

None of this gives me the impression that John has fallen in love with Mary. The silence with which he treats Mary on the blog rather makes me think of her as someone basically not very important; a sort of substitute in a desperate attempt to fill an emptiness in his life. And I think it might be significant that as soon as John recognises the existence of Mary in his life, he seems to use her as a sort of buffer towards Sherlock. A façade. First it’s the gleeful “Sorry Sherlock :)” comment above. Vindictive, it appears. And then, in the post Happily Ever After, John insists that his and Mary’s impending (heterosexual) marriage must clearly be the reason why Sherlock chose to help a gay couple getting together, one of them leaving an abusive marriage which was basically a façade. This whole ‘conclusion’ is so stupid that I’m rendered speechless.

Summary

To summarise - for those of you with enough patience to have followed all my ramblings in this marathon meta - I think the picture of John’s character that we can discern from reading up on the whole of his blog possibly tells us even more about him than the show. If the show reflects Sherlock’s mind, albeit almost entirely focused on his own perception of John Watson, this blog might actually give more insight into how John’s own mind works. I think it shows us someone who is struggling desperately with his own feelings. Someone who is trying to mark a distance that he believes is healthy for him, but that he actually doesn’t want, towards the object of his affection, by criticising them. The full-fledged, living, breathing contradiction that is John Watson comes to its full right by the blog. We could almost say he’s ‘human’ :). Kudos to Joe Lidster and the other showmakers for providing us with this gem.

Tagging some people who might be interested: @raggedyblue @ebaeschnbliah @gosherlocked @sagestreet @sarahthecoat @tjlcisthenewsexy @elldotsee @88thparallel @sherlock-overflow-error @yeah-oh-shit

#John's blog is important #John's blogging is his therapy

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bunnyinthestars · 4 years

Text

UH GUYS

I AM NOW VERY CONCERNED FOR ADRIEN

HE’S LIKE DEFINITELY GONNA BE IN A COMA AT SOME POINT BECAUSE OF MAYURA AND I’M NOT OK

I was googling the origins of Mayura’s name, which is that it’s the name of a semi-devine peacock in Hindu mythology, and

and

I found this quote on almost every website I went on:

KILLING A WHAT

S N A K E ?????

but guys, think about it. it makes sense. those paragraphs also talk about how the peacock killing the snake symbolizes a greater power/divination beyond even time or sinning. this is the exact light Emilie Agreste is constantly painted in.

Emilie is frequently associated with the color gold. The secret safe Gabriel Agreste has is behind a portrait of Emilie resembling the Lady in Gold painting. On Adrien’s t-shirt, there are three stripes across the middle: from top to bottom; purple, green, then a yellow/gold. If Gabriel can be assumed to be purple and Adrien green based on their miraculouses, then Emilie can be assumed to be the gold because of the Lady in Gold painting. The strupes symbolize his family.

Gold itself symbolizes devinity and grandeur. This is meant to convey Emilie as this unattainable, perfect, devine character within the story, although obviously she couldn’t have been perfect. We know that she used the peacock miraculous to end up in the state she did.

Look, I don’t have a full solid theory with solid evidence for this. I just think it’s too crazy of a coincidence for the first thing you find on any page about mayura in mythology is that mayura peacocks are often symbolized killing snakes, considering Adrien has used the snake miraculous twice separately now. That’s crazy, especially considering the whole situation with Nathalie/Mayura wanting to help Gabriel bring Emilie back to life, and how the balance of the universe will make it so someone will lose their life (as explained in Robostus). Adrien probably wouldn’t die, because this is a kid’s show, but seriously. He might go in a coma or something. And that situation has been theorized already.

The mayura-killing-snakes thing is just way too crazy to be coincidence.

Of course, this isn’t even the only reference I’ve seen to Hindu mythology/stories and the end of evil/time in Miraculous. But that’s a different post. It just further confirms my suspicions that Thomas Astruc didn’t just name Mayura the way he did off of whim, especially considering he never names a character something random, always ensuring that important characters have names that reflect their purpose. (I’m gonna be making a post with examples on that soon)

I just needed to yell about this, just putting my findings out there hehe

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they-are-not-just-stories · 6 years

Text

For She Had Eyes and Choose Me

A/N: Yes the title is from Othello (specifically somewhere in Act 3 not the exact quote but you get it). I thought it was fitting for this request and I happen to adore Shakespeare! *Original poem by me* Yay!

Request: The reader showing her boyfriend Tom Hiddleston how much she loves and appreciates him :’) sooo much fluff pls (Anonymous)

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Girlfriend!reader

Summary: You were lucky to find such a lover like Tom. And you made sure he knew how lucky you were to love every minute you spent together. (Horrible summary I am so sorry)

Warnings: All the fluff, grab a fluffy blanket and something savory to cut the sweetness!

Word Count: 1.9k

6:48 a.m.

The sweet scent of vanilla filled your little kitchen. The sizzling and popping of bacon on the stove making your stomach grumble loudly. The sweet sound of classical music in the background made you spin around happily and content as you prepared two cups of a very special kind tea for Tom. You carefully tiptoed your way back to your bedroom setting the tea cups on the night stand. You slowly crawled into the bed, under the covers and propping your head on your hand you just admired the sleeping man before you.

The sunlight hit his face just right it highlighted his perfect cheekbones. His sleeping form lifted so gently with every soft breath. The adorable way his feet slightly hung off the bed. You smiled at him, just admiring how peaceful he was. You smelled the pancakes floating into the room and saw his nose twitch a little. He gently fluttered his eyes open and looked at you with bright blue orbs. Letting out a small laugh, he smiled at you and propped his head on his hand to look at you.

“How long have you been staring, my love?”

“Not long enough.” You laughed. “Buuuuut...it’s a very big day for you! So I’m glad you’re up, I made food!” You poked at his stomach making him giggle and grab for you.

“My dear, you did not have to do that. But I appreciate it nonetheless.” He pulled you close to him and softly kissed your forehead.

You rolled over and reached for the tea you made and handed Tom a cup. He smelled it, closing his eyes and admiring the aroma. He grabbed the slice of lemon and stirred it into his tea. You watched as his eyes lit up when the blue tea turned a dark pink. He quickly took a sip and quietly moaned at the taste.

“Darling, what is this? It’s wonderful!”

“Well, I heard your mother talk about how much you wanted this tea when you went to Germany and considering it’s your birthday, I figured I should start your day with something special.”

He went to speak again, but just smiled at you brightly. He leaned in grabbing your arm and pulled you in for a kiss.

“I don’t deserve you.” He whispered leaning his forehead on yours.

You shook your head against his. “That’s not true. If anything I don’t deserve you, but enough with that, I made you breakfast and you have presents to open!” You grabbed his arm and nearly yanked him out of the bed making him almost spill his drink. He groaned at the loss of warmth, but couldn’t help but go anyway seeing how excited you were.

His eyes blew open at all the food you made for him and the stack of gifts you set on the table for him to open. He couldn’t believe you went through all this work just for a simple birthday!

You squeezed his hands and looked up at him as he continued to take in the room. “Sooo...what do you think? It’s a bit much I agree, but you my love deserve much more than this!”

He looked down at you, setting his cup down and letting go of your hand, he snaked them around your waist and rested his head on yours. “Y/N, it’s absolutely perfect. You are perfect. Thank you so much for this. I love you darling.” He grabbed your face and pulled you up to lock your lips in a soft, loving kiss.

Pushing up on your toes you kissed him harder, letting out a little laugh in between each one. You released the kiss first and just hugged him tight, smelling his scent and relishing in the moment. That’s when you heard whale calls coming form inside you again and knew it was time to eat.

You put a hand to your stomach and looked up at Tom innocently. “Guess I’m a little hungry?”

“A little?” He chuckled. You swatted his arm playfully and each grabbed a plate, piling them high with food.

You both finished eating more food than probably your weight combined and sat back in your chairs in some discomfort from being stuffed. You let out a sigh and than sat forward, resting your head on your hands and stared at Tom waiting for him to open his gifts.

He got the memo and shook his head at you. “Love, you didn’t need to get me anything you know? You are more than enough for me.” He reached for the first gift wrapped in simple blue paper with a white bow.

“Ok, to be fair not all of them are from me. But yes of course I have to get you something, what’s a birthday without gifts, don’t be silly!”

“Whatever you say my love.” He gently ripped open the paper and opened the box the gift was in, a small name card was in it reading: Happy Birthday my boy! Love, Mum. His mother had bought him a few new ties and goofy socks with tiny Loki’s on them. He laughed, his smile lighting up the room.

“Oh how cute! Little Loki’s!” You squealed.

“I’ll have to call mum after and thank her. These are wonderful, but something tells me you two were together when she got these.” He teased holding up the Loki socks.

“You can’t prove anything, now come on next one birthday boy!”

He grabbed a gift bag and pulled out the tissue paper to reveal a T-shirt that had the Lucky Charms cereal on it, but it instead had written on it, “Loki Charms.” He laughed loudly with his head swung back and his hand over his chest.

“Y/N! Where did you find this? Oh, I love it! Chris is going to love this! Thank you love it’s amazing!” He leaned over and kissed you on the cheek.

“I’m glad you like it babe! I made it form a website, but got the idea somewhere else! I saw the design and just knew I had to get it for you!” You said excitedly. He grabbed for another gift and the card attached was signed from his work colleagues. Inside the box was a container of band aids, but they were Shakespeare band aids with insults on them! You scrambled to stand next to Tom to look at the funny gift his friends got him as he sat their smiling at them, reading the different insults.

“Oh my god! These are perfect for you! This is hilarious!”

“I can’t believe this is what they got me, I mean I love it, but oh my goodness this is almost too perfect!” He looked up at you grinning widely. You both laughed softly and settled back down. You anticipated his last gift from you and you could barely sit still! He grabbed a larger bag reaching in to see the little note which said: To my love. He unwrapped the packaging to be greeted with a book. Flipping open the cover it had a picture of you and Tom smiling at each other. Underneath was fancy lettering that had said: Darling, I never experienced a love like this. These past few years with you were unforgettable, so I made sure to preserve them. Our love is a journey that starts with forever, but ends with never, I love you. ~Y/N

You sat there admiring the way he caressed the pages, looking through each memory and remembering the exact moment each picture had been captured. He smiled at the picture of when you two went to the petting zoo. You remembered how cute it was how he got so excited to hold a koala. He was like a little kid in a candy store. The next photo was of you two and he was looking at nothing in particular, but you were staring at him with so much love. You remember when that was taken, your heart was beating nervously for no reason. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much at Tom. You were so captivated by him, there simply was no other way to explain it.

While you were off in your thoughts about him, Tom had finished going through the album full of candid photos of him on set or him being cute with out trying and many others of you two and your time together. There were tears threatening to fall from his beautiful stormy blue eyes. He smiled wide and let go of a breath. He looked up at you, taking your hand and pulled you into his lap. He held you close wrapping his arms snugly around you.

“Thank you Y/N. Thank you for everything. I love you so much I don’t know how you do it, but you do and whatever it is I love it. That was the best gift I could have received.” He whispered shakily into your ear. You held his face close to yours, gently wiping the small tears from his eyes, kissing each spot. You rested your forehead on his and just held him there for a moment.

“My love, you deserve the world. If I can give you only a small piece then you shall have it. The man I met just a couple years ago was wonderful, more than I ever thought I could have. But the man I have today, is incredible. He is the most kind, proper, respectful man I’ve ever met. I am so proud of him, I don’t say it enough either. Your work, the way you always see the good in people. How you effortlessly light up the room. When you read to me and shower me with words of love and heart ache from Shakespeare to Chaucer and everything in between. Everyday is something new with you and I am so lucky and proud to be yours because everyday I get to wake to another adventure with you and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You smile sweetly and kiss him softly, making a silent promise of your love for him.

You look him straight in his eyes, memorizing the blue and flecks of gray that you have the pleasure to wake up to in the morning.

“A love sweeter than the fruits heaven rains upon us. A love stronger than the iron that binds us together. A love wiser than the books we explore. Every moment is a new adventure; into the void, we delve into the escapade, and we do not fear it. It sparks our imagination; it brightens our eyes and lifts the soul. To share such a moment with you, grant’s my untried life an expedition to somewhere with laughter, a radiance more glowing than the sun, but softer than the shimmer of the moon. Can it not be that we had met before? A time in which our souls had been joined in dance and song? To find you again my love was the greatest gift of all.” The grip on him grew softer, and tears trickled into your eyes when you saw his face. Tom had streaks on his cheeks, but a fondness in his eyes.

“I don’t deserve you, but I will never let you go Y/N. I love you so much. This was the greatest birthday yet and I am so lucky to have shared it with you. I am utterly speechless. You wrote that for me?” You nodded.

“You don’t have to say anything Tom. I love very much and you deserve something special.” He pulled you quickly into him, peppering your face with kisses, whispering his love into your ear and just bringing into a moment you would cherish forever.

With the one your soul would love forever.

A/N: I hoped you liked it because I’m kind on the fence about it! Anyway let me know what you think, or if there is something I need to work on!

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gustafsonmatthew-blog · 5 years

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Peremptory Challenges, Challenging Legal Exercise of “Free” Citizens

Today, I’d like to discuss a court case that happened in America prior to the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Just years before the Civil Rights Act was passed, we see Swain v. Alabama, a case that historians and lawyers see as the authorization of racially discriminatory peremptory challenges. For our readers new to the matter, let’s talk about the peremptory challenges. Peremptory challenges are a defendant's or lawyer's objection to a proposed juror, made without needing to give a reason. Essentially, the prosecutor can remove a select number of jurors (depending on the jury’s size) without reason. In the study of race, crime, and punishment, we see this effecting the convictions greatly in cases with a black defendant. We’ve seen prosecutors removing some of the only black jurors to be sitting in on the case. With these members of the jury removed, is it still a jury of one’s peers, if the defendant is of color? The disproportionate amount of convictions of a black defendant by an all-white jury are evidence supporting the claim. Traditionally, when it is time to select the jury that decides on a case, prosecuting attorneys and sometimes defense attorneys use peremptory challenges to exclude black citizens who could potentially be jurors.

Swain v. Alabama is a key case in observing the constitutional status of the racially motivated peremptory challenge. It took place in 1962, when the prosecuted black man was convicted and sentenced to death by an all-white jury for the rape of a white woman in Talladega County, Alabama. This rhetoric and conception of the black man being savage about white women is also observably an overplayed and highly over-dramatized belief America seems to have. In Talladega county, 26 percent of the people eligible for jury service were black, there hadn’t been one African-American on the jury trial since at least 1950. In Swain’s case, the prosecution struck all sic of the black citizens who could have been jurors. Despite the objection of Swain’s attorney, the judge ruled against the defendant’s constitutional challenge. This decision was also affirmed by the Supreme Court of Alabama and the U.S. Supreme Court.

Justice Byron White of the U.S. Supreme Court stated that there was nothing in the Constitution that required a judge to examine the motives behind a prosecutor’s use of peremptory challenges. As long as it was being used to take legal action and not as a means of racial screening, the prosecution was in the clear. White is quoted in saying “the presumption in any particular case must be the that the prosecutor is using the State’s challenge to obtain fair and impartial jury to try the case. Presumption is not overcome and the prosecutor is using the states to say that this presumption is not overcome and the prosecutor therefore subjected to examination by allegations that in the case at hand all Negroes were removed… because they were Negroes.” We see this theme as a huge problem, as it was strategically being used to deny people of color as an entire class their rights as American citizens to express their voice in a legal scenario.

We can see this exact type of scenario displayed creatively in the work of Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird”. Tom Robinson was prosecuted for beating a white woman by an all-white jury, despite scientific evidence presented that he could not have committed the crime, he was convicted regardless. This book (released in 1960, the movie followed in 1962) was a publicized depiction of this discriminatory rhetoric that was occurring in courtrooms from the time of reconstruction, up until the tail end of Jim Crow laws in 1964. To summarize these chapters of the book, we see the all-white jury in an awkward position. If they acquit a black man who admittedly pities a white person, then they're voting to lessen their own power over the black community, which is horribly racist and demeaning in and of itself. However, if they convict Tom, they do so knowing that they're sentencing an innocent man to death. Mayella Ewell, the victim of this beating, makes their choice very easy when she looks at the jury and says, 'That nigger yonder took advantage of me an' if you fine fancy gentlemen don't wanta do nothin' about it then you're all yellow stinkin' cowards." Despite the scientific evidence and humane support brought forth by the defendant’s lawyer, Atticus Finch, the jury finds Tom Robinson guilty on all charges. This work is important in my opinion, as it was a publically available account of the all too common result of trials of similar circumstance that were actually occurring across America for the past century.

We didn’t see the Civil Rights Act of 1964 put an immediate end to this discrimination being exercised in courtrooms, just as racism itself was not stopped in its tracks either. However, I believe the civil rights act served as a national symbol of progressing, raising our awareness as a country, and viewing all people as people and nothing lesser. This national rise in conscious awareness likely led to a case in 1976, the case of United States v. Robinson. This case made it large when the prosecution exempted the only 4 black jurors on trial, and Judge Jon O. Newman initiated this radical change of pace by asking the prosecutor if he’d like to state a non-racial reason as to why the jurors were dismissed, to which he did not respond. Black Americans were given unfair trials as soon as Jim Crow laws were implemented. The brief period of reconstruction that followed the North’s victory of the Civil War was probably the free-est time to be an Africa-American, but the white leaders of the country couldn’t stand the idea of “them” rising up. This is why we see an exponential skyrocketing increase of blacks incarcerated after the Jim Crow laws were enacted. A common theme throughout all racial studies of America, we see those in charge “abolish” a prior way of being cruel and unusual to the people by composing some new law or act that claims all is fixed, while implementing newer and subtler means of discrimination and unequal opportunities that trace back to one’s race.

To learn more about the subject at hand, the book “Race, Crime, and the Law” by Randall Kennedy is an excellent read, shines light on this topic and address nearly every angle one could tackle issues of race, crime, and law in America. Two websites that may be beneficial for further research on the matter are deathpnealtyinfo.org and crf-usa.org. I hope this post served as a reminder as to our unjust history as a nation and aides in your personal determination for reform and undoing the harm we’ve caused countless members of our human race.

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sakuwriteshere · 6 years

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The Unknown Season - Chapter 1: Awakening

Summary: Reader went to bed just like any other night but once the reader wakes up she’s not in her bedroom anymore. (I know it's pretty lame but I don't want to give away the plot yet)

Pairing: Dean WinchesterxReader, Sam WinchesterxReader (friendship)

Warnings: None I can think about. Swearing maybe?

Words count: 1413

A/N: I know this plot had been use too many times already, but this idea came up one day and wouldn’t disappear, so I had to write it down. The story is set up after season 12 but it's kind of AU because Castiel is still here and the only fact that I kept from the season finale is Crowley's death.

English isn’t my first language and it’s been way too long since I wrote in English so I deeply apologize for any grammar mistake/error.

Last thing; this is going to be a series but I’m not sure of what to think of it so please feel free to give me any constructive feedback.

Disclamer: I do NOT own Supernatural or any character of the show which are the CW company properties. This work is for free entertainment only.

Chapter 1: Awakening

It was the end of the day at last. You hated Mondays and not only because it was the beginning of the week. It meant that you started another long and suffering week of work. You hated your job. Well, to be honest you enjoyed your job as a waitress, it was the customers you didn't like. The grabby customers. What was so sexy in wearing an apron anyway? You swore men would only be thinking with their lower brain when they got a glimpse of the little attire.

You threw yourself in your couch and sighed heavily. You took off your shoes and tucked your legs under you. The house was silent which felt good after the whole noisy night at the restaurant. You enjoyed the silence for a moment, closing your eyes and hoping the migraine you had for almost an hour would leave you alone. Half an hour had passed, and you decided to take a shower before relaxing in your living room.

The hot water felt great and you realized that the migraine left, indeed. A good point since you wanted to have a glass of red wine before going to bed. Once you got out of the bathroom you put on your pajamas which consisted of a pair grey shorts and tee with the big face of Hello Kitty in the middle of it with a slight touch of pink making the whole thing a bit girly. You took a wine glass and poured a generous amount of the red liquid then went to sat on your couch again. You grabbed your laptop and started it. You checked your e-mails then went to your favorite website to indulge your guilty pleasure: reading fanfics.

You loved reading. Your living room walls consisted of bookshelves full of books. Fantasy, thrillers, romantic novels, ... You read everything, you weren't picky. If the story was interesting, the plot believable and the characters realistic it was enough for you.

You picked a Supernatural fanfiction, the hiatus having the best of you. You couldn't wait to see what would happened in the next season and thanks to the wonderful community of fans, you had something to entertain you before the next season premiere.

As you felt your eyes closing and the words in front of you becoming a blurry mess, you checked the clock on the wall and realized that it was already 3 in the morning. You had a late shift the next day so it didn't bother you so much, knowing you could sleep late in the morning. You closed your laptop and dragged your feet into your bedroom. It didn't take too long before you fell asleep.

In the middle of the night you woke up, consciousness poking your sleepy brain, but you didn’t open your eyes. You felt dizzy and your you became aware of the sweat in your lower back and the back of your neck. You ignored it and fell asleep once again.

When you finally opened your eyes the next morning, your hand patted the side of the bed, and strange habit you had for as long as you could remember without knowing the reason behind it. It was empty, as always. However, the bedsheets didn't feel like the ones you were used to. It felt like soft silk and you knew your bedsheets were made of cotton. The air around you felt heavy and a strange scent hit your nose: dust. It felt like the room had been closed for a long time. You sat up on your bed and that was when reality hit you: You weren't in your room.

You couldn't see a single thing inside the room since it was pitch black which was the problem, you knew it was morning time so where was the sunlight? More importantly where was your window? Your heart started to beat faster as panic rose inside of you. With a trembling hand you patted around you in hope of finding a lamp next to you. You sighed as your trembling fingers brushed against a button and once you pushed it a soft light let you see where you were.

You weren't in your room, of that you were sure now. The few old furniture around you weren't yours and your eyes stared at the boring walls. Yep. No windows.

You jumped from the bed, your brain thinking about hundred scenarios. You've drank too much the previous night and went with a strange guy. Or you've been kidnapped in the middle of the night by a strange guy and now were his prisoner. And so, on and on. Whatever you were thinking it was always a bad thing. So much for being an optimistic woman.

So why the room felt kind of familiar?

Without thinking; your hand reached for the doorknob. You knew it was useless, the psycho who kidnapped you wouldn't leave the door open, but you had to try.

It opened.

Well, your psycho was an idiot. Or maybe that was what he wanted you to believe? Maybe he let it open so you could try to escape and he would chase you? That was the only explanation you could think of and despite the fear you had to try to escape anyway. You opened the door slowly, silently praying that it wouldn't make any noise.

You took a deep breath before heading inside a dim corridor, your bare feet sliding softly against the cold tiles. It looked old and again you couldn't suppress that strange feeling as everything around you felt somehow familiar.

You walked slowly through the long and scary corridor, hoping no one could hear your heart beating hard against your chest.

"What the..." you murmured as you ended in a big room.

It wasn't feeling familiar anymore. You recognized this place perfectly well, despite the fact you've never been there before.

The bookshelves, the long white columns, that big wooden table lightened with lamps, those three little stairs that lead to another room, you were in the...

"...Bunker?"

Your head snapped when you heard a creaking sound. They really needed to put some oil on those hinges, you thought. Footsteps followed, two pairs of footsteps to be exact and you were frozen in place. That couldn't be, you must be dreaming. Right a dream. A very vivid one.

"I'm just saying it doesn't need to be slimy fluids you know?" You would recognize that voice anywhere. It became louder as the seconds ticked.

Your eyes wide and your breath stuck in your throat, you realized that Dean Winchester stood at the top of the stairs, looking behind him, certainly looking at...

"Sammy, are you listening?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, Dean." Sam answered his brother in a tired voice. He put a hand on his older brother's shoulder and was going to add something when his eyes fell on something in the middle of the room. The features on his face changed as his grip tightened on Dean's shoulder. The older Winchester looked in the same direction and furrowed his brows. The three of you stared at each other for a few seconds, your face mirroring your disbelief while there was only shock on theirs.

"Hey!" Dean shouted as he grabbed his gun from behind his back and pointed at you.

You were startled when you heard him shout but you still couldn't move. You watched them climbing down the stairs guardedly, both pointing at you with their guns.

"I said 'Hey!'" Dean repeated as he came closer but stopped when he was at a safe distance.

Of all the things you could say at this moment, the only words that came out from your mouth were "You did. Twice. Good for you."

You giggled slightly, remembering the quote from that famous episode. At least that confirmed once thing; you were dreaming.

The brothers shared a look without lowering their guns as you started to laugh. You always laughed when you panicked. Finally, your limbs started to move again and you grabbed your head with your hands as everything around you started to swirl. You felt a cold sweat in the back of your neck and felt dizzy.

Sam's grip tightened on the trigger of his gun as you started to move, your laughter subsiding; but before you had the time to say anything more he saw your eyes rolling back and your body falling heavily on the ground as you felt into oblivion.

Chapter 2

#supernatural #dean winchesterxreader #sam winchesterxreader #spn #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic

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magicalsalamander · 6 years

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The Firefly that Guards the Fox III

Pairing: BTS Taehyung ⇆ Reader

Words: 6.9K

Warnings: Overall story rated mature; Explicit themes, action/ violence, bloodshed, death of minor characters.

Summary: His mother and father weren’t supposed to fall in love. They weren’t supposed to find a mate in one another.

They weren’t supposed to.

After losing his father years ago, Taehyung vows to find and avenge the injustice his family has gone through. You were childhood friends with Taehyung. The four of you Taehyung, Hoseok, your older brother and you were inseparable. You were torn apart from Taehyung, your fox who’ve you’ve always vowed to protect and be with, without a warning. He called you Firefly, you called him Tae-Tae the fox. Was your fate supposed to end there in the past with your childhood?

A/N: Orig post date: 01|17|18; Updated intro 12|12|19. Part of the KLF Universe.

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Before the elevator doors could open to the ground floor you stood up, but the haze in your eyes didn’t clear. You walked out of the elevator and out the glass entrance door weaving yourself into the sea of passing people. The crowd took no mercy on you, the masses were on autopilot. Standing in the midst of the crowd shoulders knocked against yours repeatedly; your purse was pulled to the ground on accident when a business man on the phone carelessly ran into you. Still, you remained indifferent to everything. He kept going not bothering to apologize. Everyone kept moving, except you. You were frozen.

He was alive! However, meeting him again and finding out that he’s a well-known lawyer, your potential boss, was not the way you pictured the reunion. How could he be in such plain sight? It clicked so you rushed to pick up your purse and pulled out your cell phone. It was one of the first generations of smart phones, but it still worked and it didn’t have any scratches on it. You open a web browser and searched “Kim Taehyung Hybrid Welfare Legal Law Group, LLC,” and instantly over 10,000 results came up. The first article was of him walking from a courthouse with the title “Kim puts the notorious serial, hybrid killer behind bars”, another was “Lawyer Kim Taehyung gives statement on bringing the CEO of CJT Corps, who abused his hybrids, to light.” You were stunned, he’s been in plain sight this whole time. It was the twenty first century, why didn’t you use the internet? You already knew the answer to that though, you were just too busy and didn’t have any social media.

You kept scrolling and opened the company’s website moving past the other lawyer’s bios until you found his. This is why you should’ve done your research. You stopped when a photo of him working came into frame. They must’ve taken his picture without him knowing from the candid shot. He was looking down at some paperwork with his head propped at a 45-degree angle resting in his hand at his desk. It was weird seeing him grown up and so--manly looking, his deep voice rang in your head picturing him in the exact same way minutes ago. You shook yourself out of staring at the photo and read his short bio, “Kim Taehyung has been a brilliant lawyer for Hybrid Welfare Legal Law Group, LLC, since 2014. Kim graduated early from the national University at the age of twenty, opting to take honor and advance placement classes. He graduated with a degree in Linguistics and a minor in Philosophy. Kim entered the University’s Law program the following semester after graduation and left three years later ranking in the top 10% percentile of the Bar Exam takers. He’s worked for Free Will Legal Office, LLC, and Liberation Legal Advocacy Corporation, LLC, throughout Law school and interned afterwards. He started working for us at the age of twenty-four and worked his way up to being one of the four main lawyers of our office. A quote from Kim, ‘I will work hard until I can put an end to hybrid abuse and put those who abuse hybrids behind bars.’ We believe Kim Taehyung is the future in hybrid rights.”

Your jaw fell agape, you couldn’t believe this was the same Tae. The Tae you knew was a clumsy, happy-go lucky, carefree kit. Time has really changed things. You crossed your purse over your chest and put your phone back in its slot. You tucked your blazer closer to you when a breeze blew by and walked towards the nearest bus stop. You felt so ashamed of yourself, you wanted to see him again, but he didn’t even remember you. Were you that forgetful? Did your friendship mean nothing to him? You kept walking to the bus station and sat on the cracked, plastic bench and almost missed your bus when you were lost in thought. You ran after the bus, almost slipping on mud, smacking the side of the bus until it captured the driver’s attention and he stopped for you. Even on the ride on the bus you couldn’t stop thinking about him. The rest of the day was spent in this weird smog as if you were walking through a valley of smoke.

You walked up the steep hill to your apartment late at night after your closing shift. You deviated from your path and stopped at the living room converted into a convenient store tucked in one of the houses along the road and perused the short isles. You picked up a few beers from the fridge and chips on a stand. The auntie who sat on a loveseat watching old soap operas just asked for the money with an outheld hand without even paying you any mind. You’ve been here enough to know eachother by first name, “Thanks Lola.” She waved you off with her enclosed hand, you were interrupting the dialogue of her show. You walked up to your rooftop apartment and sat down on the low platform outside your apartment. You sat the crinkling plastic bag next to you along with your purse and just sighed. You dug inside and pulled out any one of the two beers. You pulled back the aluminum tab that released a satisfying hiss. You hoped that this little thing would release some of your pressure too. No, you weren’t a drinker only having drank a total of two times before; both times with your brother when you graduated college, then law school. You just wanted to indulge in this one time.

You took the can and cheered it to the sky before taking a hefty gulp of the stout and breathed a sigh of relief afterwards. You really didn’t understand why people like the taste of alcohol or the flavor of beer at this point, it tasted awful. However, you spent five dollars on all this you weren’t going to let it go to waste. You kept sipping with furrowed brows trying to catch a buzz to sleep better tonight. You laid back on your elbows supporting you looking up at the starry sky. Its been so long since you’ve looked up and taken in the world around you. The stars were so beautiful they twinkled and glimmered as if they were communicating with one another. You picked up your beer and took small sips. This reminded you of the old days when the four of you were laying on the same type of platform doing the same thing. You were starting to feel tipsy, maybe because you never drank or maybe the alcohol hit your system fast because you haven’t eaten in a while. Maybe. You took a deep inhale and then yelled out, “Yah! Taehyung! You’re alive! You’re-- really alive and doing well! I’m so… proud of you! Wow, I saw you today and you didn’t—you didn’t even recognize me! Did I really change that much? Huh?” You had to catch your breath you were so worked up and somewhere along the line you started crying. “How could you—how could you do that to me?” You don’t know when but as some point exhaustion took over from crying so hard and yelling. You fell deep asleep on the platform.

A half hour later your brother walked up the side stairs, his black combat boots clinking against the metal staircase leading to the apartment. He hummed and blew a puff of smoke in the air from his hot breath hitting the icy air. He rubbed his gloved hands together and shoved them in his pocket for any warmth and dug for his keys. The yellow-green flood light dulled against the cement floor, but it caught his attention when it reflected against the plastic bag on the platform. He stepped closer to see exactly what was there only to find you sprawled out sleeping. Tired from his long day as well, he came up to you and smacked your cheek, “hey, hey wake up.” You just groaned and turned to your side landing on top of the plastic bag and knocking over your half full beer. “Hey!” Your brother went to grab the sticky drink before it leaked any further onto the wood and shook his hand in frustration when it coated his hands. He really took in your appearance redden nose, dirty clothes and sneakers haphazardly thrown. You had your “suit uniform” spilling out of your purse as if it was shoved in angrily. He hated seeing you work endlessly and keep going to job interviews tirelessly. He wanted to make your life easier, but he didn’t have a direct way fix that. He sat you up and slung you over his back and then hung your purse over his neck. The plastic bag was in his hand while the other held the house keys, “Yah, you feel too light. You’ve lost too much weight. Why aren’t you eating stupid?” He knew you couldn’t hear any of his complaints, but he still complained none the less. He flopped you onto your twin size bed and pulled the comforter over you. He sat next to you and flattened your wild hair down, it was the least he could do for you after all the things you do for him. Somewhere down the line the roles have changed, and you started taking care of him. He kissed your forehead and turned off the lights closing your bedroom door.

The next morning at seven thirty you woke up to your phone alarm blaring that repetitive noise and a fat headache. You were in pain, but you still had to turn off your insistent alarm. You looked at yourself and wondered how you got inside, it must’ve been your great instincts. You blindly made your way to the bathroom and took a shower. The hot water was so comforting easing the headache to a dull pain. You made it back to your bedroom to change into your day uniform, but were stopped by a surprising figure in the kitchen.

With eyebrows raise you looked at your brother who was diligently mixing something over the counter. He had something on his cheek when he turned around, “Morning sunshine, you look great!” You furrowed your brows and grumbled to him, “shut up.” He laughed, “be out soon to eat before you leave. You don’t have much time before you have to go.” Not about to argue with his comeback you went to change and ready your purse. You packed your only other set of skinny jeans and the same black t-shirt into your bag replacing your suit uniform. You made your way out of the room with light makeup on since it was more appropriate for your day job. You took a peek over your brother’s shoulder on your tippy toes and made a face pulling the sides of your lips down impressed with his makeshift breakfast sandwich. He smacked your creeping hand trying to grab extra pieces of packaged ham and said take some aspirins. “Yes, mom. Love you, mom!” He laughed at your annoyance and you followed through really needing it to carry on today. He let you slip your shoes on before handing you paper bag with a ham sandwich and a breakfast sandwich to carry tucked into a napkin. You were so touched your brother never did stuff like this. You looked at him suspiciously, “did you do something wrong?” He played up an expression of upset with a hand over his chest, “can’t a brother do something nice for a change?” You smiled not willing to have your sandwich revoked and hugged him tight, “thank you for everything.” You snatched the sandwich and placed it in your mouth as you ran out the door waving him goodbye.

You made your way into the diner and grabbed your apron from of your locker. You greeted the older auntie who ran the shop and your coworkers, it was back to the basics. You were working non-stop until you had a fifteen-minute break around noon. You went to your locker in the breakroom and pulled out your phone. There was a missed call from Mrs. Lee. You were panicking internally. What if it was something important? Why was she calling back so soon? For sure only early call backs were rejections, how could he decide overnight? With a shaky finger you hovered over the call button but pressed it and brought it up to your ear. You sat in a chair shaking your leg impatiently while chewing on your thumb in anticipation. There was no voicemail, so it was up in the air to what she needed. She picked up after the seventh ring, “Hello Mrs. Lee this is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m sorry I missed your call I wasn’t able to answer the call while on shift.” She waved it off bidding everything fine, “I understand. I wanted to call you with the results of the interview.” Your heart was racing and begging her to put you down gently. “Mr. Kim has decided that he wants to hire you. We would love it if you could start as soon as possible.”

You were frozen. You were hired! You were hired? “I’m sorry Mrs. Lee, can you please repeat that please?” She laughed at your confused state, “You’re hired Ms. Y/L/N. When can you start?” It took a few seconds, but you were smiling like and idiot and bowing in thanks even though she couldn’t see. “Are you sure Mr. Kim relayed the message right Mrs. Lee? I don’t mean to guess your work, I just can’t believe it,” you spoke at her rapidly and in disbelief. “I’m positive Ms. Y/L/N.” You promised that you would be able to start in the next few days since you had to let your current jobs know you would be resigning. She congratulated you and hung up. You were so excited with the news you stood up and danced, you absolutely couldn’t hold in your excitement. You stopped mid jig and the news really set in. You were going to be working with Taehyung. Would you tell him who you were? So many thoughts were running through your mind, but first things first you had to quite these part time jobs!

You spoke to all your employers who were happy for you, but they asked for a few days more until they could find a replacement. Your bosses from both places were more like long time friends now and they wished you luck and to keep the door open to use you for legal help. As soon as all things were set you called Mrs. Lee to let her know you could make it exactly in three days. She was glad to hear that you worked it all out and would see you very soon at eight a.m. sharp. You were so excited that that night you went home and told your brother you finally got the job! You even made a video call with your brother to your parents telling them the news. They couldn’t be happier for you, and it felt like things were finally working out. You spent that night sitting in bed scrolling again through the company’s website on Taehyung’s bio page. You reread the information over and over again. This was too important to pass up and if Taehyung didn’t recognize you, that was fine. You were going to start fresh again now anyways, so if he didn’t remember you it wouldn’t be the end of the world. You wondered if he still spoke to Hoseok. You wondered a million and one things, but it still didn’t change how hurt your heart felt. You plugged your phone in to your charger and set it on your bed side table. You stared out your window and thanked the stars for watching over you.

You adjusted the same blazer, button up and slacks you wore on your interview. The same flats were adorning your feet, ready for work. You pulled your hair up in a pony tail in the elevator. The smooth, long locks flicked side to side as you looped it in the hair tie. The elevator doors opened to the receptionist lobby. The receptionist, who now asked you to refer to her as Mrs. Smith, congratulated you on your employment. She looked left and right subtly then curled her index finger to beckon you in whispering distance. “Mr. Kim can be a bit…rude. He’s not the kindest, but he works very hard. You’re the only interviewee that made it out of the 150 that applied just this month. I don’t even…” Mrs. Lee came into the receptionist office and cleared her throat. You jumped back and bowed to greet her. She smiled politely at you and raised a brow to Mrs. Smith. Mrs. Smith began humming and went back to work like nothing happened. Mrs. Lee signaled for you to follow her down the hall. You trailed behind her into the open work space.

“This last row of desks in this open space in the far back is where we will be working. The other three rows are meant for the other lawyers.” She pointed along with her words as she lead you down the rows of already busy workers, some gave you a glance while other worked diligently. You were shown to the first desk at the beginning of the row where it was empty, “this is your spot. You can decorate it as much as you like.” You thanked her setting down your purse and she lead you to the other employees under Mr. Kim. The first employee she introduced you to a man who went by casually by the name Key, but his actual name was Kim Kibum. He was a paralegal and was Taehyung’s right-hand man. He looked you up and down, but welcomed you politely. Key carried this sassy carefree air about him that seemed to lack for a lawyer. The next employee was female employee younger than you who was there as a legal assistant. She was still in law school and working her way to becoming a lawyer. She was cold towards you and didn’t care to respond, but Mrs. Lee let you know her name was Jung Krystal. She was pretty, but her attitude made you want to take that statement back. That was the whole team. You could see why they needed you on the team. There weren’t enough members on the team, you wondered how they’ve won so many cases so far with so little people.

Mrs. Lee lead you to Mr. Kim’s office knocking getting the typical non-lingual response. She motioned for you to enter and followed behind closing the door. Your heart was racing seeing him again, in fact it’s been racing as you entered the ground level lobby. He was in a navy-blue suit that really brought out his orange fur on his ears. You tried to calm yourself knowing hybrids can sense your heart rate and anxiety levels. He was in the same position as the other day, but instead he had a cup of coffee in his hands taking sips of his black coffee delicately. You gulped and after Mrs. Lee called to you, you turned to him and reintroduced yourself with your self still bent in a bow thanked him for hiring you. You slowly raised yourself to standing position, but didn’t bring your eyes up immediately. You raised your eyes slowly and as if the world slowed his eyes locked on yours holding them in amusement. He held his gaze on yours silently with a raised brow. He was sizing you up, so you continued, “I will work hard under your team as a lawyer.” He laughed a little, “No, you won’t be working under me as a lawyer. At least not yet.” You looked at him wide eyes, but he continued, “You will be working alongside Ms. Jung, until you prove you can hold your own.” He took another sip of coffee looking for you to challenge him. You were going to have to start from the bottom, the literal bottom of the food chain. You were ready for the challenge though, you lived for the challenge. You smiled politely at him, “I’m willing to show you that I’m a worthy member of this team Mr. Kim.” He was curt and just hummed waving you both off to leave. You understood Mrs. Smith now.

Mrs. Lee escorted you back to your desk and Krystal and Key came over to your desk to drop four boxes full of paperwork that needed sorting and to be categorized by case. You sighed internally at the amount of work, but rolled up your sleeves went to work. Mrs. Lee patted your shoulder and wished you luck. Before you knew it the hands on the clocked turned and it was noon, you were barely a quarter of the way through with one box. Mrs. Lee tapped your shoulder interrupting your concentration, “Mr. Kim is calling for you in his office.” You got up dusting yourself off and made your way over to his office. You knocked lightly and wiped your dusty hands on your slacks and got the approval grunt. You stepped in and was only greeted by an outstretched sticky note in which you took in both hands. “What is this Mr. Kim?” You couldn’t make out the coding of what FR, OC and BrB meant. He looked up at you with a glare as if you’ve just insulted his mother. “My lunch, now go pick it up for me,” he looked at his watch, “and I want it by 1 p.m. Now hurry.” You looked at the clock on the wall and it read 12:15 p.m. How were you supposed to make it back to the office in 45 minutes?

You were going to prove him wrong for underestimating you, “Of course, Mr. Kim.” You stepped out of his office and power walked back to the open space, but was stopped by more sticky notes by your team; even the intern who should be doing all this. You were a little upset by the intern’s rudeness, but you weren’t going to let this shake you. You took them and asked them to decode Mr. Kim’s note first. “Its fried rice, orange chicken and broccoli beef from Panda Express.” Not caring to waste any more time you ran out of the office like lightening. You had to pick up coffees from Starbucks, sandwiches from Subway on top of Mr. Kim’s order. You were walking so fast with three bags swinging on your arms and four coffees in a carboard cup holder. You were adjusting a bag on your arm trying to reach the sticky notes your blazer pocket one last time when someone ran directly into you. The coffees in your hand down poured onto you soaking your white button up. A mix of hot and cold pungent liquid all over your white button up. You liked coffee, but not to this extent. You weren’t concerned about your shirt though, you were about the coffee. You checked the time and ran back to the coffee shop a few stores back. The man who was trying to apologize to you was left standing there in confusion.

You made it back to the office panting at 12:59 p.m. and set everything down on the round conference table of your section. The members at their desk all looked at you concerned with the blatant brown stain on your shirt, but you were in a rush. You only had a minute left! You grabbed his tray, fork and napkins along with his venti coffee. You knocked on his door with your elbow and got the grunt. You made your way into his office and set the food down on the cleared portion of his desk. You stepped back waiting for his response. He set his pen down and took his Ray-Ban Clubmaster glasses off. He looked at you judgingly and then took in the brown stain poured down your front. He chooses to not comment but went to grab the tray. He popped open the container and hummed, not in approval or disapproval just a throaty noise. You were sweating for more reason than one. He finally said something, “you’re late by two minutes Ms. Y/L/N. How do you expect me to depend on you with that kind of timing?” You were shocked you made it late but bit your tongue, “I’m sorry Sir, it won’t happen ever again.” He raised a brow, “better not Y/L/N.” You were surprised that he addressed you by your first name. It felt weird hearing it again. He grabbed at the plastic fork but tossed it in his small trash bin, “I don’t eat my Chinese food with a fork, go get me chopsticks.” You were panicking you didn’t grab any, so you tried to think of anything besides having to go all the way back. You remembered you had your own chopsticks for your lunch. You asked him for a second and ran to your desk and rummaged your purse until you found your chopsticks at the bottom of your lunch bag. The metal chopsticks would work perfectly. You knocked again and handed him the utensil with both hands. He took them from you and commented, “I prefer wooden ones, but I’ll settle.” You were holding your comeback in, you were glad you weren’t a dragon hybrid at this moment. You asked him if that was all he needed, and he waved you off again. You made it back to your desk where everyone was now eating and working at their own. Mrs. Lee and Kibum thanked you, but Krystal just ate quietly. She’s yet to say a word to you.

You got back to work and ate your food with an extra plastic fork left in one of the bags. Again, time has passed by quickly and before you knew it the rest of your team was leaving for the night and biding you good night. Mrs. Lee told you to, “go home soon, there’s always tomorrow.” You smiled and said you would, but in by the looks of your desk you knew it was going to be a long night. Your desk lamp was the last one on in the office and you were working on the last four case files from the third box. You sat up cracking your back then heard a voice next to you, “I’m not paying you for overtime.” Jolting at the sound you banged your knee on the desk but stood up with a click of your knees and replied, “Mr. Kim! I know, but I want to finish before I leave.” He looked over your shoulder to see the stack of different sorted casefiles. He looked back at you stoically with his tail swishing casually and just walked off. You called after him, “Good night Mr. Kim” and you whispered, “Good night Tae Tae” when he was around the corner while rubbing your knee.

Taehyung came home to an empty apartment. His roommates Hoseok, Jimin and Jungkook were still out. Jimin and Hoseok was out practicing choreography for an upcoming tour for a famous artist. Jungkook was probably working a late shift at the station. They’ve all made it into fields they’ve dreamt of. Taehyung pulled out a bottle of wine from the wine rack and popped open the cork. He used his better sense of smell and took in the fruity flavor of the vintage wine. He poured himself a glass and pulled out some ingredients from the fridge and went to prepare himself dinner. A few minutes later he heard the keycode being punched in and the scuffing of boots at the entrance. The heavy timberlands hit the floor with a thud near the shoe rack and a Bunny still in his police uniform set his phone on the island counter along with his badges and plopped himself in a bar stool across the stove. He greeted Taehyung, “Hyung, I’m home! You won’t believe the day I had!”

At home Taehyung could let loose and be himself, he didn’t have to put up a hard exterior that he did at the office. “Tell me about it then, Kookie.” He went on to say about a few weeks ago a drunk uncle was abusing his young hybrid but a heroine stepped in and saved the hybrid. She was a lawyer too! She beat the man into submission and pinned him to the floor. She went with the hybrid to the hospital and he found out she knows Jin too! He took the hybrid into his shelter according to the report and getting a phone call from the bear himself. “Anyways, she was really pretty hyung, and I wanted to ask her on a coffee date, you can’t let a cool woman like that just walk by. But that’s not the point, the point is the drunk man is suing the station for taking away his hybrid when he was in an inebriated state.” Taehyung turned to him to him with raised brows and tail swishing in interest, “did you ask her out?” The bunny’s ears went down in sadness, “No, she got into the ambulance before I could even say anything.” Taehyung and Jungkook always told eachother stories going on in their work since they both often shared cases.

More noise came from the front door and in came the last two roommates. Hoseok came into the kitchen first doing some gliding moves but Jimin kneed him in the butt to move out the way. Jimin greeted the two and did the secret handshake that only they would know. Hoseok came next to Taehyung at the stove, “Tae Tae, what are you making? Is there enough for all of us?” He didn’t plan on making enough for everyone, but wordlessly he was throwing more portions onto the skillet. Hoseok thanked Taehyung and the three sat down on the island next to Jungkook who retold his story of his day. Hoseok listened intently then said, “Hey, Tae, doesn’t that girl remind you of the girl from the country side where we used to live? She would do the same for us when we were kids. Her and her brother would always stand up for us!” Taehyung smiled remembering the face of that girl, she had choppy hair and rags for shoes, but she was always happy. He couldn’t remember her name and her facial features were blurry to him now, but he knew the person. He answered honestly, “I do Hobi, it’s was so long ago. Her face is blurry to me now, but I remember that choppy bowl cut flying squirrel.” They all laughed at him calling you a squirrel. Jimin turned to Hoseok, “is she that girl in that photo at Tae mom’s house?” Hoseok lit up remembering the photo,” Yeah! That exact girl!” They carried on chatting and joking. They ended the night with some video games. Taehyung was about to get into bed when he pulled out his phone and in the gallery, he took a picture of that photo in his mom’s house. There was water damage on the photo, so all the faces were blurry. He zoomed in on your face and smiled fondly, “Hey Firefly, it’s been a while. I hope you’re doing well. I hope your still kicking butt and saving foxes like you used to.” He stared at the photo a bit more then set it to charge for the night, “Good night Firefly.”

The next morning you came to the office with the same outfit. You didn’t have enough money to buy any new clothing, your last paycheck to pay utilities and rent. The coffee stain came out of your button up after soaking it in a concoction of home remedy stain remover. You were the first of your team in the office. You finished all the filing last night at 2:30 a.m. A few moments later Mrs. Lee made her way over to your row, “good morning Y/N!” You greeted her back, but she rushed to drop her bag off at her desk to go back to the receptionist area. You sat down at your desk and waited for her to return. Mr. Kim came around the corner with his briefcase adjusting his glasses. You stood up to greet him, but he stopped in his tracks, “You’re still here?” You raised your brows in question, “you hired me correct?” He nodded and carried on to his office closing the door behind him. You saw Mrs. Lee escorting the same family you saw the day you submitted your resume. This time the young man had bruises and a black eye. You looked worriedly at Mrs. Lee, but she just mouthed “later” to you. She sat them at the conference table and told them to wait for her. She came over to you asking for you to get some files for her to present to them. You nodded following her instruction.

When you returned with the case files she asked for, you to sit with her and the family. She introduced you to the woman, Mrs. Miller, and her son David. You shook their hands introducing yourself. She spoke to them about the new revisions and terms that were set by the recent lawyer meeting. You listened intently picking up that she was going through a lawsuit where the other party is suing for assault and defamation. It was hard to believe with David looking as if danger was waiting around the corner for him. Mrs. Lee directed them towards Mr. Kim’s office to discuss things further and Mrs. Lee returned to you. “Mrs. Miller and her son are in a civil lawsuit. A few rich kids at the private school assaulted him, and their parents are trying to turn it around on them. Claiming that David inflected the injuries on himself and are trying to ruin their image. They don’t want to settle out of court. With all evidence we have so far, it points towards hybrid discrimination.” You nodded silently, longingly looking at the office down the hall. Mrs. Lee went to get up but you stopped her before she went on to give you work, “what did Mr. Kim mean when he said ‘you’re still here’?” She looked at you with raised brows sitting down beside you again, “We’ve hired people before you to join the team, but they never stayed after the first day. We’ve gone through 15 people leaving after the first day. They complain that they don’t want to do bottom work with a lawyer’s license, they want to practice already. He always lets them leave. He purposely is a bit overbearing in the beginning to really see if people are made out to work here.” You slowly nodded finally understanding his words. You smiled at her and said, “please give me more work to do!” She laughed at your eagerness, but then went to hand you more boxes. You honestly were more motivated to work harder, this was your dream even if it was starting at the bottom. Nothing good is every handed out, it’s earned.

You went back and forth around the office and brought all cases up to date on filing. The next few weeks you worked endlessly proving yourself. You stayed late often re-doing reports and checking and rechecking paperwork. Taehyung would stop by your desk nightly before he left seeing you were the last one, but never said anything. He just stared at you then walked off, but you always wished him a good night and that he worked hard today. When he stepped away you always called him Tae Tae. It was hard to control your beating heart around the handsome fox.

Taehyung was impressed by your hard work, but he would never tell you. He was impressed the first day when you offered up your chopsticks. He knew he was being difficult, but he needed you to be flexible and adaptable. The things he’s been putting you through were test, not just miniscule task. You still had a long way to go before he trusted you to work on a major case.

But the day came, a month in working at the office. He finally asked you to do something else besides paper work and running small errands. You knocked on his door and stepped into his office. He asked you to sit down in the chair in front of his desk. You were slightly worried thinking you were in trouble, but he interrupted your thoughts, “I want you to go out tomorrow morning with Mr. Kim to David Miller’s private school to get a testimonial from the school and any evidence. We need some papers signed by their principal.” You were relieved you weren’t in trouble and the anxiety turned into happiness. You tried to hide your smile but failed miserably when your lips twitched and settled into a smile. “Thank you, Mr. Kim, I’ll do my best.” He just looked at you dully, “this is work Mrs. Y/L/N not something to thank me for.” You bowed and asked him if he needed anything else before you returned to your desk. He breathed in deeply looking you once over then tilted his head to the side, “is that the only clothes you have? That “uniform” of yours should be put away for a new one, don’t you think? Wear something else for tomorrow’s visit.” He looked down to his paperwork again and waved you off. You were excited with the given task, finally he trusted you enough to do actual work. However, his comment on your clothes sucked a bit off happiness out of it. You knew very well that you shouldn’t wear the same clothes every day, but it was the only thing you had. You bowed and left with a smile still on your face. You ran into Mrs. Lee who was about to knock on the door, you excused yourself and walked down the hall. Mrs. Lee was still staring at you walking down the hall, she overheard and was surprised you didn’t look phased. You were a strong woman indeed.

There was something about you to him. The sense of familiarity only got worse over time. Something in his gut was pulling him to you, maybe it was your pretty face? Maybe it was your persistent personality? Every time he looked at you he just felt like something was missing, but he didn’t know what it was. A mysterious nostalgia. He smiled to himself when you left the room and laughed quietly at your cute behavior. It was hard holding back and keeping a stone face when you were here. He felt comfortable with you. Every night when he passed by your desk he always wants to speak to you, to chat casually, but he doesn’t want to cross professional boundaries. In the end he just walks away leaving you to work. When Mrs. Lee walked in he corrects himself immediately, coughing and clearing his throat to cover his laugh.

The next morning you came in to work, again being the first of your team. You still had your “uniform” on, but you had no choice. None of your friends, even your ex-coworker, had any professional clothing they could lend you. You sat at your desk turning on your computer to get to work until Key came into the office. Mrs. Lee came into the work space humming and swinging three, large, unfamiliar bags. You didn’t pay any mind to her after you greeted her normally. She came up behind you and tapped on your shoulder. You turned to her holding up three bags in front of you blocking your vision. “What is this Mrs. Lee?” She lowered the bags and said, “I was going through my closet yesterday cleaning it out any of the pieces I had that were still in good condition, but I never used. I was wondering if you would want them? It’d be a shame to throw out such good pieces.” You looked at the bags and then back at her, “Oh, I can’t take something so nice.” She stopped you, “No, I won’t be using them anymore! We seem to wear the same size so please, take them. It’s my gift to you.” You reluctantly took the bag and then pulled out some gorgeous blouses, slacks and pencil skirts. The last bag had two pairs of heels, one was classic black, thin heel pump and an ankle strap, nude heel. You turned to her amazed at the beautiful clothing, “this is so expensive. I—!” She stopped you again, “Hush, take it and don’t let them go to waste on an old woman like me.” You pulled out a white, bell sleeve blouse, a black, knee length, tight fitting pencil skirt, and the black heels. You went into the women’s restroom and changed into your new outfit. It fit perfectly, even the shoes! You were a bit unstable at first but got used to it quickly. You looked in the mirror at yourself, you looked like a real professional. I guess fair feathers make a fair bird. You pulled your hair out of the ponytail and it cascaded down into romantic, tousled waves. You didn’t get a chance to dry it after showering last night tying it up wet. You smiled at the new you, ready to take on your mission today! You folded your old clothes and walked back to the work room. You got some stares from the other lanes as you walked by, but you kept going avoiding their gaze. You made it to your desk and stuffed your old “uniform” into one of the bags. You pushed them under your desk until your shift would end. Mrs. Lee came up to you and simply said, “wow, you clean up really well Y/N. These clothes were meant for you! You look great!” You were blushing folding your hands in front of you not sure how to receive compliments. Krystal even raised her eyebrows at you and nodded, but quickly returned to her work.

“Mrs. Lee, do we have a guest?” You heard Taehyung ask Mrs. Lee from behind you. You turned around to look at Mr. Kim, who was wide eyed when he realized it was you standing there. “Oh, Y/N. It’s you.” He was thrown off by the woman standing in front of him, it was you, but different. The way the pencil skirt hugged your hips and your collar bones showed through your blouse was captivating. You were a fresh Spring day, the warmth of the sun that came along with the season and freshness. Your scent filled him to the brim. The biggest note of yours was lavender, it calmed him the more he inhaled. It was like a crisp breeze came through him as he took in your scent. It was heavenly and soul soothing. He had to shake himself out of his spell realizing he was staring, and just casually said good morning. He walked to his office leave all three of you just staring at his disappearing figure. You shared a look with Mrs. Lee raising your eyebrows at his strange morning greeting. You never got those.

Key made it to the office ready to leave to visit David’s school for a statement. You walked down to the parking garage of the establishment and got in his Mercedes. The twenty-minute journey to the middle school was anything but boring. You found out more things about Key, he’s quite chatty and funny. You shared things about yourselves even obscure things. You were having too much for this to be professional. You arrived at the front of the school stepping outside the parked car. Key and you made your way to the front office and sat down waiting in the reception. Key went over with you that he would do a majority of the consultation, she can be a stick in the mud. The woman stood up at the secretarial desk and instructed you to follow her into an office. The woman in the office looked like a true private school principal. The gaudy jewelry, the stuffy suit, and botched plastic surgery showed off her wealth. You both sat down in front of her desk after introductions and she immediately began to defend herself. “I’m sorry Mr. Kim, we will not provide any assistance in that regard. The offenses happened off campus and it was not under school hours. This is a private personal matter.”

She was obviously using any legal loophole she could find to take the responsibility off the school. Key informed you on the way here that this school had records before of hybrid students being assaulted or discriminated. You were genuinely upset that the system that was supposed to be protecting all kids equally failed them. You tried interjecting, “Ma’am, we still need –,” but she held up her hand stopping you. Key and you exchanged a look knowing there wasn’t going to be any way to get her signature. You shook her hand and left with Kibum. He stopped you once you left the building and with a cat-like grin asked, “You know we should go find David. You know… observe the environment to get a feel for it.” He knew that this was probably crossing the line, but he was always up for gathering evidence. “This way we can find out and study if there are any other discriminations going on.” You nodded agreeing with your fist held up to his in a fist bump. You walked down the halls trying to observe the private school for any abnormalities. You kept walking until you made it to the gym area near the back of the school when you heard it. You heard the huffs and grunts of someone, and a gaggle of laughs. You and Kibum crept around the corner of the building peering over the edge of the gymnasium. David was on the floor surrounded by five, tall built boys who were obviously older than him. Two of the kids were smoking cigarettes passing it between them. The one who just kicked flicked the still lit stick onto the young bunny. Anger boiled within you and you made a step towards them when Key stopped you and hushed you. He brought out his phone and began recording the situation. You needed evidence.

“Little Bunny, who’s going to save you now, huh?” They continued to kick him in his fetal position, but when they got tired of it they pulled on his ears. He let out a large yelp in protest. They continued their ministrations, but you’ve had enough! You didn’t even spare a look back at Key who was whisper yelling at you. Your heels clicked as you paced over to the group of men surrounding David. You yelled out, “Hey, leave the kid alone!” You stood a few feet away with a hand on your hip the other pointing at them when the group of five stopped what they were doing and turned towards you. They raised an eyebrow at you, “who are you lady?” David was clearly scared, but limped behind you when he recognized you. He tugged on your shirt, “Mrs. Y/L/N, please, save me!” You bent down to his level and petted his ears, “It’s okay David. Go to Mr. Kim over there, okay? He’ll protect you. Don’t come out until I say so, okay?” He nodded and ran over to Key who was still recording.

You were going to handle this as rationally as possible, but the boy standing in the center just lit up another cigarette taking a drag. You supposed all of them were around seventeen years old, maybe seniors here. The leader, you assumed, approached you taking a few steps out of his group, “Look lady, do you know who I am? My dad could-.” You laughed, “Look kid, I don’t care who your dad is. I’m going to call the authorities to handle this okay?” You went to turn around, but the kid grabbed your wrist roughly. “No, were not lady. This is going to be kept quiet.” You’ve had enough turning halfway around to look at his firm grip on your wrist. You asked him calmly to release your arm. He refused to release it, but you asked once more, “let my wrist go, please.” He laughed and looked at his friends who were egging him on. “Fine,” he suddenly yanked of your wrist causing you to stumble onto the ground. Your knees scrapped against the hot, black asphalt and one heel fell off. You stabilized yourself on your aching wrist from breaking your fall. You noticed your one heel still on had broken! You just got them! His friends were laughing hysterically and so was he, he dropped his fag in front of you and stepped on it twisted his foot tauntingly. The laughing stopped when you flipped the switch on them. You stood up and tied your hair into a pony tail kicking your broken shoe off. It was game on.

You caught the leader’s hand, who was attempting to grab you in an outstretch reach, into your right hand and with your left on the boy’s collar of his button up shirt. Using the momentum of his weight charging towards you, you flipped him to the ground. These boys towered over you, but they didn’t have the same life experience as you. The boy was groaning on the ground and when realization struck his comrades they came rushing to you. They all began circling around you stepping back and forth trying to scare you. One of them even brought out a pocket knife and started waving it at you with a smirk. You were thanking the heavens that your brother taught you things in his free time.

Two boys came at you at once, but you ducked avoiding his right hook. You stood back up avoid his second attempt. You round house kicked the guy in the neck. He stumbled bent over and you took advantage of it bringing your knee to his face. The other guy came at you while you were distracted and grabbed your pony tail pulling you back. The one with the knife attempted to stab you while you were being restrained but avoided it losing the bell sleeve to the grazing. You wiggled yourself free of the pony tail grabber and pushed him away. The knife wielder came back at you, but you grabbed his wrist before he could do anything and twisted it past its normal extension. He wasn’t a knife wielder, it must be for show since he was coming at you sloppily. You heard his wrist pop and the knife clang to the floor. He backed away holding his wrist screaming, “She broke my wrist!” These boys looked stronger than they were. The last two stood there watching their friends and decided they should make a run for it. They were stopped though when two police officers intercepted them.

Key was running over to you, “Y/N! Are you alright?” You retightened your pony tail, “Yeah, that was nothing.” You dusted your hands off in a satisfied manner and key spoke again, “Your shoes--!” Before Key could finish authorities along with the principal came around the corner. The principal was yelling, “No, not these boys! They would’ve never done anything wrong! That Miller kid must’ve provoked them!” You were in complete shock, despite the clear evidence she still chooses to side with these kids. The police officers rounded the boys up and took the one with the broken hand to the ambulance. A familiar face came up to you, “M. Y/L/N, we meet again, in another unfortunate situation.” You look around squinting at his uniform and caught his name and it clicked, the same bunny hybrid officer from that night! “Officer Jeon,” you shake his hand, “Our lawyer, Mr. Kim, sent us here to get a testimony, but we caught our defense under attack by the same boys who are holding a lawsuit against him.” He wrote down your notes and testimony. He turned to Key and asked for his story, who basically repeated after you. Key whispered to you, “Y/N, I think you’re going to have to with them to the station. You’re a badass, but legally beating up minors doesn’t work out.” He was right, but you weren’t going to stand by watching someone get beat up. Another officer came up to Jeon and discussed things you couldn’t hear. He turned to you with an apologetic look, “I’m sorry Ms. Y/L/N, but we’re going to have to take you down to the station for further questions.” You weren’t surprised, the chances of you scathing by this with rich kid’s parents protecting them was unlikely. You told Key to go back to the office and report everything without you. You held your wrist out towards Officer Jeon with no words and he silently cuffed you walking you to his patrol car.

Key was impressed with you, he felt like he was watching a live super hero film the way you jumped in saved the kid and beat up those guys! He had to snap himself out of his giddy atmosphere and let reality sink in. He had to let Taehyung know and get you out! He had to get you out! He picked up your broken heels raced to his car slipping into the driver seat and peeled out of the parking lot. He made it back to the office in record breaking time, parking haphazardly in his spot in the parking garage of the office. He snatched the heels in the passenger seat and ran to the elevator. He pressed the up button of the elevator repeatedly as if his life depended on it. The door opened, and he stepped inside pressing the fifth floor and mashing the close door button. He was sweating at this point, it was supposed to be a simple task, but it escalated into something major fast. The elevator doors opened, and he zoomed past Mrs. Smith who called after him. He speed pass the work room not paying attention to his team who was eyeing him in wonder. He repeatedly knocked on Mr. Kim’s door not waiting for a come in, and he closing the door behind him. Mr. Kim was on the phone which gave Key time to catch his breath. He was tapping his foot impatiently on the floor. Mr. Kim finished his call and turned to his team member, “What is--?” Key interrupted holding up the shoes, “Taehyung, Y/N! Y/N, she was taken by the authorities—you know what just watch this!” He pulled out his phone and came around the desk and showed him the video of earlier. It began with the kids bullying David, but then you came in the picture. Everything was fine until the kid laid a hand on you. You were tossing the kid around and even dodge a knife. He was worried when he saw the shoes, but it got worse when he saw the video. When the video finished he turned to Key, “where is she?” Key looked down at the floor, “The police took her. They want to question her further.” Taehyung got up from his desk, “Fuck!” and without any other words put on his coat and took his keys and made his way out the office with Key behind him.

The longer it took them to get to the downtown station the angrier he got. How could you carelessly attack? You didn’t think ahead at all! They made it to the station and walked into the entrance. The phones were ringing, officers were running around, some hanging around at their desk. He recognized a familiar face who was standing next to his partner, Kim Yugyeom who was a friend of his as well. Wordlessly he walked up to Jungkook and grabbed his arm, “Where is she?” Jungkook was surprised to see Taehyung here, it wasn’t common he ever came down to the station. “Who hyung?” Taehyung looked around the office not seeing you anywhere. “Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” Jungkook eyes lit up, “Oh! She’s in a holding cell. Do you know her hyung?” He didn’t care to respond to him, but carried on, “Take me to her, I need to see her.” He was seething at this point; his tail was flicking, and his ears were down turned. Jungkook picked up on his anger with his ears standing straight up, he wondered what did Tae have anything to do with you? Jungkook tapped his partners arms then lead him and Key to the back hallway where the holding cells were. He unlocked the metal cage door revealing rows of cells along the hallway. He let them enter and directed them to the second to last cell on the right side. Taehyung came up to the cell, but held his tongue when he saw you curled up in the corner. Your knees have crusted blood dripping down your leg and your shirt was torn. He turned around running his hand through his hair calming himself down.

You looked up to the noise slowly and noticed the three of them staring at you. You went to sit back on your heels despite the pain and leaned forward in a bow, “I’m sorry Mr. Kim.” You stayed in that position even as he responded, “I can’t believe you. On your first errand…How--.” He walked back to the station’s main room with Jungkook following him. Key remained crouching down, “Y/N, get up. He’s gone.” You rose with a stoic face, you felt so guilty that may you had ruined the case. You wanted to bring justice to David, but you were just complicating things. In your heart you did the right thing, you stopped violence and the innocent from getting hurt. “It’s going to be okay Y/N. Taehyung may be upset right now, but he’ll get you out. He’s not one of the four famous lawyers at our firm for nothing,” Key explained. It made you feel a bit better and you offered him a small smile. He left you but offered his blazer to keep warm and you took it from him reluctantly.

Jungkook came up behind Taehyung who was staring at the Miller family situated at one of the desk. The mother was rocking her son back in forth in comfort. She had tears in her eyes and her bunny ears were flopped down in sadness. This hurt his heart. It reminded him of his own mother when she comforted him those nights realizing his father wouldn’t come back. He wasn’t going to let these kids get away with their bullying. Jungkook spoke up, “Who is Y/N to you hyung?” Taehyung turned to him, “she’s my newest employee.” Jungkook’s mouth formed the perfect “O” in realization. Jungkook lead Taehyung to the family and they discussed what actions would be taken further. Their discussion was interrupted by a few women coming in yelling at the top of their lungs. “My son is innocent! Where is the bitch that ruined his wrist!” the fancily dressed woman shouted into the room. Jungkook stood up addressing the women, “Ma’am, please sit down,” directly the woman to sit at the desk. “No, I want to see that women who beat up my son and his friends!” Taehyung stood up as well attempting to mediate the situation. Mrs. Miller was holding her son closer, protecting him in the best way she could. The woman struggled in Jungkook’s hold but everyone stopped when a tall man, with overly gelled back hair walked into the room. He has a uniform that was littered with badges on his left chest. The man spoke loudly, “Ma’am, we need to ask you to calm down and take a seat.” The woman turned in Jungkook’s hold, “and who are you to order me around?” Jungkook bowed to his senior, “Chief.” The man waved him off and took charge of the situation directing the woman to sit down at one of the conference tables.

Taehyung and the woman’s lawyer went at eachother for a while back and forth trying to come to a resolution, but they were stubborn. Taehyung was off in the corner trying to come up with a new statement when the lawyer asked for a break. Jungkook came up to him with a coffee in a Styrofoam cup which Taehyung took thanking him. Jungkook sat next to him, “Hyung, remember how I told you about that heroine?” Taehyung nodded after taking a sip of his dark coffee. “That’s her. Y/N is her.” Taehyung raised his brows not expecting the wonder woman of Jungkook’s story to be you. He laughed though, you were full of surprises today. Jungkook patted Tae’s back returning to his desk. Taehyung finished his coffee tossing it into the trash. Mrs. Miller, the rich wives were already gone, and Key went back to the office it was only him left. He sighed with a heavy heart and made his way back to the dimly lit cells. He walked slowly to your cell to find you in the same position as earlier. He crouched down to your level and called to you, “Hey, hey!” You looked up at him with sad eyes that he had to turn away. “You’re going to have to stay here for the night. There seems to be progress with the families, but this isn’t a simple lawsuit anymore.” You nodded knowing that there was no way going the easy route. He got up to walk away from the cell wordlessly like always. You spoke softly in whisper as always, “Good night Tae Tae.” The footsteps once moving down the hall stopped, turning around to you even faster. Taehyung grabbed the bars knocking on the cell door with a rattle looking at you with wide eyes, ears at attention, “What did you just say?”

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respheal · 6 years

Text

Two years of Galebound

Hey guys, Res here! Long spiel ahead because I’m getting personal and long-winded here. Full text after the cut to spare your dash.

tl;dr: A brief history of Galebound’s development and my experiences with telling a story, joining a community, depression, and living inside my characters’ heads for two solid years.

[cut]

So I was working on page 103 early last month (yeah, the week page 103 was due to go up aaaahhahahaha -cries-) when I realized what was coming up: the second anniversary of Galebound’s start as a webcomic. The exact date of the anniversary is a little nebulous. The decision to make it a webcomic was made on 4/20/16 when I completed drawing the concept art for all the main characters (which I had set as a prerequisite for going on the hare-brained adventure) and drew what would become the title page. The first page was published on Smack Jeeves (where galebound.com is hosted) on 5/14/16. So the birthday of the webcomic is somewhere between those dates but I’m going to consider it to be 5/14, which is why I’m rambling about it today. I want to talk a bit about Galebound’s history and what it means to me.

Galebound was originally a short story called Noblesse Oblige. It was written in first person POV from Conan’s perspective and published on DeviantArt back in 2007 or so. I really wish I could find that original draft because I bet it’s wonderfully terrible. I didn’t really know what I was doing with the story at the time--Conan was an untrusting jerk, Din was an arrogant troll, and Pascal was downright unhinged. The basic mechanics of the Obligation were there (simply that Noblemen could command Magicians), but that was about it.

I pants’d the story until it got to--well, just after this point actually. The conclusion of the battle on the bridge, and then I stopped. I don’t entirely remember why. But the story stuck around in the back of my mind while I met new friends (Hi, Skypernauts!), went to college, moved across the country, met my first boyfriend, got my first job, met my future husband, and casually worked on developing an RPGMaker game in my spare time (That RPG is called Memory and that story will likely get turned into a comic eventually as well).

While I was working on Memory’s battle system, I had the thought: how would I convert Noblesse Oblige into an RPG? The magic system would probably have to be something like the field generator from the original .hack games: string together words for a certain field or, in this case, magic. That way the command side of the Obligation would be integrated into the gameplay.

I played around with that idea for a bit longer, but ultimately decided it wouldn’t work; there was a major design flaw with the game. I can’t say what that flaw was because figuring out the solution to the design flaw led to the realization of a huge twist in NO’s story. I had to get this story out. Now.

Around this time I had abandoned RPG-making (because making nice maps is a PITA), so I took Noblesse Oblige through a JulyNoWriMo (NaNoWriMo, just in July). This time I took the story through Norin, Evenheim, the bridge, and on to Cymaria and beyond, compelled as if by Obligation. I accomplished my goal of 50k words, but the story still wasn’t complete. I slowed down the writing process and kept at it, but I also wanted to share the story so badly.

And uh...well. No one was interested in beta reading it except one friend, when time allowed. My fiance made an attempt, but didn’t get very far (He tried though, bless him, and said that although the beginning was rough--lord was it ever--it picked up eventually). In his eternal patience, my fiance at least let me spill the whole story at him. He didn’t like parts of it, mainly some things that happen around the midpoint and Din as a character in general (Din was a bit more actually evil back then). But he listened to the story as a whole, which was a lot more support than I felt anyone else had given the project at the time (Thanks, Mike <3). He also made a hell of a lot of puns about the ending of it, but in fairness the ending does lend itself to a lot of puns. It’ll blow you away (ba-dum-tsh).

I started getting really frustrated. There was this story that I just had to tell, but seemingly no one who would listen. I’d put a couple chapters up on Wattpad or Tablo, but got no feedback there (and didn’t learn until much later that those sites are miserable for anything that isn’t romance). An excuse would be that I wanted to know if this project had any sort of worth and if I should continue with it, but real talk: I wanted validation. I know better now what was happening then, but...well, hindsight.

While this was going on, I posted this illustration in the NaNoWriMo forums, the first drawing I had done in about two years or so.

No comments for a bit, but one day I was browsing through the thread and noticed someone quoted me and responded, asking if I was doing a webcomic. Um...No? I had tried making a webcomic before, but it was a LOT of work and I figured it wouldn’t be something I would have time for now.

Buuuuuuuuut the seed was planted. At this point I had determined the reason no one was interested in reading my rough novel was because A) the writing must be terrible (it kind of was) and B) nobody ain’t got time for reading books. So maybe this story could be told and find its audience as a webcomic. But only if I could draw ALL of the main and secondary characters. I would have to draw them hundreds of times, so no point in trying if I couldn’t even draw them all once.

Suffice to say, I succeeded. And the comic began under the new name Galebound.

Even as the comic went up, however, the need for validation persisted. I meticulously tracked subscription counts and likes and faves and everything, craving proof that people were reading this story. It got better as the story went on and some events did provide temporary boosts (Like Galebound getting featured on a “Top Five New Comics” list from Top Web Comics -excited screaming- and I met a new friend who I could talk to about the story and she actually read the monstrosity that was the first draft), but, well...

So, long story short: I was suffering from clinical depression with all that entails, and did for quite a while. Still am, technically. Just well managed now (yaaaaaay therapy and medication). It’s funny because I can pick out the pages it was hitting me the hardest because Conan was super bummed in those pages too.

I guess what I’m saying here is that this story was a big part of my life during some of the hardest and darkest times of my life.

I’m doing better now (see: aforementioned medication and therapy). Really I’m lucky because I see and talk to other webcomic artists who have similar struggles and similar feelings and the same reactions when sad or disappointing things happen and I want to suggest they get professional help when I recognize the signs of depression in them, but I realize I’m extremely fortunate in that I even had the opportunity to get the medical attention I needed. (I will recommend up and down all day long that if you’re suffering from depression and have the opportunity to see a doc about it, do so. For years I had tricked myself into thinking it wasn’t that bad even when...it was.)

There were good things, too. I met new friends and joined a community of other webcomic creators. I contributed to some drama in the community in an attempt to hold our publishing platforms accountable. I created a website to help webcomic readers and creators. I attended my first convention as an artist (and actually sold a sticker and a booklet! Woo!) and by the time this gets published I’ll have attended my second. Galebound has gained a small fanbase and I’m so proud of how clever the readers are. Seriously, you all keep me on my toes.

Regarding the story itself, Galebound is, by my estimates, about a fifth of the way through the full story, which means it will likely run for about ten years total if things don’t speed up (and I really want to speed things up). If you consult the Blake Snyder Beat Sheet, we’re somewhere in “The Debate”, that debate being “Who is Din and can he be trusted?”

Spoiler alert (warning: song with explicit language)

The whole concept of the Obligation stems from the dichotomy of what one wants to do versus what one feels compelled to do. That could be taking over the family business, going to college, going to church, even choosing a life partner based on expectations as opposed to one’s true feelings--as a character will say in the future, “not all Obligations are magic.” This sort of Obligation is something I think a lot of people face, and something Conan, too, will face throughout the course of the story.

Galebound is also about redemption and forgiveness. There are characters who have made terrible mistakes and decisions in the name of hatred and prejudice, and those who have brought harm to others out of sheer ignorance. It’s about self-worth and purpose. It’s about friendship and reconciliation. It’s about platonic and familial love. It’s about duty...and obligations.

It’s complicated, but “simple stories are inherently false. Life is complicated, and perspective matters.”

To sort of go into Conan and Din’s headspace a bit as they are now, they’re not in a good place emotionally, and it’s soon to get worse (because a certain someone Can’t Follow Instructions). They will hit rock bottom, but after that...well, there’s no place left to go but up? After this chapter, both of them will be reeling from mistakes made in the recent and distant past, but these events--as well as what will happen with the next few days--will put them in a place to rethink everything.

Long story short, I’m excited for what’s to come, but when am I not?

Anyway, that’s my spiel. Thanks for reading and for reading Galebound! My goals for it this year are to finish the first volume, start editing some of the earlier pages in preparation for printing, get a few chapters of the novel written (again), and get to the turn into act two. I’m actually so hyped for the turn I’ve edited this paragraph a millions times to keep myself from dropping even hints of spoilers because wow I want to talk about it.

So I better stop.

Thanks again for reading and Galespeed! <3

Links

Read Galebound here: galebound.com Prints and Stickers: store.synestories.com Social Media: Twitter | Facebook Support: Ko-Fi | Patreon

#galebound #rambling

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bfreelancing · 3 years

Text

Something new, something borrowed, something...failed?

Hello World,

I can't take it anymore.

I just can't.

I have to tell someone all these stories, or I'm positively going to BURST.

So, this is me, starting a blog that no one will read. A blog basically for myself to chronicle my adventures as a freelance marketer; a blog that I can pretend people are reading so they can share in the hilarity of my adventures.

And I'm doing this anonymously - or as anonymously as one can be on the internet. I'm not going to share client names or locations or anything like that. If I use people's names, they will be changed. BUT, these stories can be crazy and specific so if it sounds like you, then it most likely is. Sorry. (Not really).

My life got a little off track at the beginning of 2021. No, not because of COVID (though that did add to the whole ordeal). I had a personal matter take over my life. I couldn't search for new clients. In fact, I barely managed to hang on to my old clients.

But that ordeal is now over. And I find myself with more time on my hands. And not nearly enough money to pay off all my debt (we're talking student loans AND credit card debt incurred during COVID trying to keep my family afloat - oh, and not to mention the taxes I owe the government for 2020).

I have once again started the *interesting* journey of reaching out to companies in the hopes of gaining new freelance clients.

What do I do, exactly? Marketing. But really anything a company needs. I once helped a company get a new phone system. I work completely remotely (I've done so for several years before COVID made it the cool thing to do) and never visited their building which was several states away. Did I know anything about phone systems before that? Nope. But I do now.

I try to stick to marketing, though: website design and development, social media management, graphic design, photography, videography, blogging, etc...if companies give me a chance, that is.

I've done this for seven years now. SEVEN. I can't believe it's been that long. Where does the time go? Have y'all seen the movie The Last Holiday with Queen Latifah? There's a line in that which has stuck with me over the years. I can't find the exact quote online (come on, Google, you're letting me down), but it's something like this: You put your head down, and you work, and you work, and you work, until one day you look up and think, how did I get here?

God, if that's not the truth. They told me growing up in school that I could be anything I wanted to be - that I would have the world at my feet, so long as I worked hard.

That was a lie.

I've worked hard. Harder than I ever thought I would have to. And I only have experience to show for it. Experience that still isn't enough. I'll never understand that.

How did I get where I am? In college, I had a family emergency. After I graduated, I moved back home to help my family. I was stunned to discover that my Bachelor of Science in ecological sciences provided me ZERO job opportunities at home. And I mean ZERO. I live in the country, but the city is only an hour away.

I'm in the Midwest. So, it's not like the city is HUGE like New York, but if I told you the city, you would 100% know it. Still, there were no opportunities.

I decided to go a different direction. Yep, you guessed it, MARKETING. Why? Because life threw me two more curve balls when I was in college, and instead of having multiple ecological internships, I had a few of those, but also a few marketing internships. Maybe one day I'll tell you about those.

But for now, you get the gist: I had two years of actual, real world marketing experience. I started applying to local marketing jobs. No one would hire me. When I was able to get feedback - which was few and far between - I was told that while my portfolio from my internships was impressive, the companies didn't like me because I didn't have a degree in marketing. Sure, I had a 4.0 GPA in all my science classes, and I graduated an entire year early. I was an officer in five clubs, a regular member in two others, worked five jobs, and took 21 hours of classes each semester. That wasn't enough. College told me I was well-rounded, but the real world could have cared less.

Thankfully, that didn't matter to the people from my internships. Several businesses I met from there begged me to help with their marketing. I started freelancing while searching for a full time gig elsewhere. Freelancing provided me a little money, but not enough.

I listened to all those people that told me they weren't happy with my degree, and I returned to college to get a master's degree in marketing. I completed it in a year.

With that under my belt, I started applying to places for a full time job - still freelancing on the side. I was barely making any money. But I was getting lots of experience. I can never thank my first clients enough. They would come to me and say things like, "Do you know how to use WordPress?" I would truthfully tell them no, but for a discounted rate I would figure it out for them. They took me up on the offer, and I learned invaluable lessons that way.

But it still wasn't enough. No one would hire me. Why? No idea. No one likes to give feedback these days. I guess too many applicants and not enough real people to respond to them.

So, I turned back to my freelancing and focused heavily on it. But then someone close to me suggested we start a business together. I thought maybe that was my chance, and jumped at it. I did that for three years before throwing in the towel. It took up too much time and the return just wasn't enough. But that same person offered me a job with their other company, and I took it.

Here's the deal about that, though: I went into the office every day. But I didn't work all day. I worked when projects came in and kept track of my time. When there weren't projects, I was allowed to freelance from my desk.

Those projects weren't enough to get me where I wanted to go. This was pre-COVID. This was a world where people didn't want to work remotely with other people. I received a few clients from referrals (thank you, sweet people!), but again, not enough.

When I say enough, I mean enough to pay off all my debt and get a house. That's all I've ever wanted in life: my very own house. That's my goal.

I'm not even close to attaining it at this point.

So, I start reaching out for full time jobs again. This time, I try to see if there are remote jobs available. I find one on the west coast. It seems like a dream, and the salary is great.

It was a complete nightmare. I'll tell you about that sometime too, but not today.

COVID hits, and they tell me my job is secure. They tell me they are going to give me a raise, after a job review. I go in for my job review and come out WITHOUT a job. Don't worry, I promise I'll tell you about that in another post.

What do I do? Go back to my tried and true freelancing. In a post-COVID world, EVERYONE wants to work with you remotely. It's amazing. I get new clients. I think I'm making progress.

Then my life is shattered due to a personal matter. Then tax season hits, and I realize that while I thought I was suffering during COVID with my freelancing, I actually made more money than ever. But didn't make my quarterly tax payments. The government wants an arm and a leg in exchange - literally.

I work out a payment plan with them, and I find that I'm completely broke. Barely able to make those payments, barely able to keep my credit cards UNDER the limit.

My personal matter slowly calms down. And I have a horrible realization: I've been doing this for SEVEN years, and I've gone absolutely nowhere. NOWHERE.

I don't judge my progress based on others. But, I thought by now I would have a house. I don't. I haven't paid off any student debt. My credit cards are now all pretty much maxed out thanks to COVID.

It's time to get my butt in gear, put my nose to the grindstone, and start reaching out to companies again to see if they need a freelancer's help.

Which brings me to my first official freelancer story, which I am sure you all will get a kick out of, if you read this far. Which I doubt you have. If you have, I'll love you forever. Feel free to message me, and I will legitimately tell you I love you. No joke.

So, to set the scene, it's a hot, humid Sunday. I'm inside. My air conditioner is broken, so I'm huddled next to a portable unit I purchased because I'm told that it will be a MONTH before my central air is fixed. I'm not moving a lot, trying to keep cool. The TV is on with old movies I've seen a thousand times playing in the background: old, familiar friends that make me happy, cheering me on while I search job boards for freelancing positions.

I find one for a web designer. It sounds dreamy. A company is looking for someone with a little bit of HTML experience, that they can train to use their brand new web design platform. I would be making templates for them, and their price per hour is exactly what I charge. I'm excited at the thought of learning something new, and I'm excited to find a company that's willing to teach me!

I immediately apply. I receive an automated response back that they want me to take a personality test, which I promptly do.

The questions are simple ones, that I know will reflect my hard-working nature. One question asks: You've had an event planned in your personal life for several weeks. When it comes time to leave work early for the event, your boss says that there's an emergency project they need your help on. What do you do? Do you...A) Stay on after you expected to leave then go to the event later....B) Go to the event....C) Ask a team member to do the project for you...and some other option I can't remember.

I choose A. That's the person I am (except for that nightmare job I mentioned awhile back, but that's REALLY for another post, so I need to stop mentioning it).

Another question asks: Your plate is full, and your time is completely booked, but a team member comes up to you, asking for help on their project. Do you...A) Put aside your work to help your team member...B) Tell your team member you're busy and to go ask someone else...and two other options I don't remember that are basically B, just repeated in different wording.

I choose A. Again, that's who I am. If I'm crazy busy and you come to me for help, I might be a bit cranky and stressed, but I'm going to set aside what I'm doing to help you. I'm not going to kick you to the curb.

But that's not what this company wants, apparently.

Why?

I submit the personality test, and it says that I FAILED it. Yes, it tells me that I FAILED the personality test. I'm still laughing about it. I guess companies want people that don't care about their coworkers and don't want to work? If so, that's definitely not me.

But how do you even fail a personality test? Who even knew that you COULD fail a personality test? Not me. Though I do know now.

What made it funnier? About an hour after being told I failed the test (which, by the way, was the WORST I have ever done on a test, so there ya go), I received a notification that said I was moving onto the next step in the application process. I just had to answer *one* more question: why am I a good fit for this job?

The answer I wanted to give? Because I want it. The answer I actually gave? A real one, full of bull to make everyone feel better about themselves.

Will I get this position? Probably not once a human gets involved and sees I failed. I think right now I'm just in their automated process.

Still funny though. I'm the girl that failed the personality test. I feel like I need to go make a t-shirt about that now.

That's all for now folks, thanks for sticking with me through this long read. Can't wait to see you back for more!

-B

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couroworkpal1989 · 3 years

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poolealex1993-blog · 3 years

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