#i made this during class so it might be totally incoherant

[yukimoji]

Oooh your requests are open, I'm so excited! Could I ask for a Tanjiro x Reader in a modern AU setting (Kimetsu Academy, perhaps?) where Reader visits Tanjiro (who's crushing on her) at his bakery and he sees her playing with his siblings? It just warms his heart up and they're all like 'You should marry our brother!' and ahhh just fluff galore! Headcanons, scenario, short fic, anything is fine with me, whatever's easiest for you! Thank you so much! ~Oblivion~

(a/n: hi again!!! thank you so much for requesting! this is such an adorable request, im literally so soft rn ya hear??? tanjiro is such best boy im 😔✊✊,, i hope you like this and have a great day!)

(this became longer than expected, are headcanons supposed to be this long??? per usual, there will typos and grammar errors! happy reading!)

Total words: 1770+ words

Genre: Fluff

No manga spoilers

Warnings: None

Will You Marry Our Brother? ( Kamado Siblings x Reader, Tanjiro Kamado x Reader) I Headcanons

During your time at Kimetsu Academy, you had the pleasure of meeting the owners of a nearby bakery, the Kamado family. You shared classes with the eldest son, Tanjiro Kamado. You became good friends with the boy, and eventually you met his younger sister, Nezuko Kamado. You adored his sister and the two of you instantly became close friends, because of her kind and caring nature.

Since Tanjiro was your classmate, you usually sat beside him. Each chance that he would get, his attention would be focused on you, chatting and asking about your day with an obvious flush in his face. Honestly, you thought it was kind of cute, seeing him all flustered up all around you. You sort of got a crush on him, not that he knew about it.

You would hang out with Nezuko in-between school breaks, eating Lunch with her as the two of you would have girl talks. She would always keep you company, and if ever you needed someone to lean on, you bet that she would always be there to support you.

You could say that you were more than shocked when you discovered that they had four more younger siblings. You didn't have the honor of meeting them properly, because of your busy schedule and just the overwhelming amount of academic pressure on your shoulders that hindered you from visiting their bakery. However, judging by the wonderful stories that Tanjiro would tell you in the middle of school breaks, they seemed like absolute sweethearts, and you were looking forward to meeting them.

However, you would later have the chance to meet them. It was a peculiar day, and the teachers weren't as harsh on you all like they would normally. Not only that, you craved for something sweet and warm. You just wanted to just bask in positive vibes, and you knew exactly where you wanted to go.

Your legs stopped in front of a small shop, and almost immediately, a wave of gentleness hits your body with so much comfort. You entered the bakery, a bell ringing as you begin to salivate at the sight of the delicious treats displayed on the counter. Nezuko takes notice of your presence, and turns around to welcome you with a big smile on her face.

When you finally picked out the goodies you desired from the shelf, you made your way to the cashier to pay for them. As you got near, you heard little strange noises coming from below the cash register. Confusion began to grow as you recognized the strange noises sounded like the sound effects from a popular mobile game. You became even more perplexed as Nezuko's expression hardened, and she instantly marched behind the cashier in slight annoyance.

A loud squeal of surprise erupted as the sound effects abruptly stopped. Then, suddenly, a young boy emerges from the cashier, a sheepish look evident in his face as he rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. The moment he notices your figure just standing awkwardly behind the cash register, he immediately turns red and mutters incoherent apologies as he would repeatedly bow profusely. You just give him a reassuring smile, and you said something about also liking the game he was playing.

You learned that this boy is Takeo, one of Tanjiro's younger siblings. As he continued to check out your treats, he couldn't help but find you so familiar.

Are you the girl in his brother's lockscreen photo?

After you paid for your orders, you introduced yourself to him, and his suspicions were confirmed. He couldn't help a mischievous smirk form on his lips, as he vividly recalls all the moments his brother would dreamily talk about a girl named [ Y / N ].

You asked him to play one round of the mobile game he played before with you. After seeing how the bakery was not really busy and getting Nezuko's approval, he accepted your offer. You bonded with him over the game, and the two of you had so much fun! You were pretty sure that you played more than one round with the young Kamado!

You were absolutely great at the game, much more so than him! You beat his high score, and he wouldn't admit it, but he swears he will beat your score one day. He could not wait to totally tease his brother about this.

Later on, you meet Hanako, Shigeru and the youngest, Rokuta. You were absolutely delighted to finally meet them. They were exactly how Tanjiro described them, they were all such big sweethearts!

Hanako and Shigeru almost immediately took a liking on you! They bombarded you with so much questions, asking you about your favorite color, animal, and all the little things you liked. The would listen to your answers eagerly, big smiles never fading from their expressions.

They would absolutely invite you to play a few games with them! They looked absolutely precious and you didn't have the heart to say "no". You played so much games with them during your stay, the most prominent being "Tag" and "Hide 'n Seek".

After they become tired from running around so much, they settled on listening to your jokes and puns. You swear they have the most adorable laughter in the world!

Just seeing them being giggling and laughing so much melted your heart into a puddle of joy. These two were absolutely cute and adorable, and they radiated so much positive energy that just fill your entire being with warmth and love.

They think that you are absolutely beautiful and wonderful, just like how their brother described you to be!

And then, there's little Rokuta. At first, he was a little shy to approach you. His big eyes looked at you with so much curiosity, and when you told him your name, his face immediately transformed into one of recognition.

Oh! So you're the [ Y / N ] my big brother keeps babbling about!

You would dote on him so, so much! You couldn't stop the squeals from escaping your mouth as he would adorably babble and tell you about his day! His big eyes hold so much innocence and purity in them, and your mind went absolutely bonkers about how cute this little Kamado is!

When he deemed he trusted you enough, he would raise his little arms up, and his tiny hands would make some grabbing motions. Nezuko would chuckle at his actions and tell you that he wants you to pick him up. You stifled a scream of absolute delight, mustering all willpower not to cry from sheer happiness. A cute and cuddly toddler wanted you to pick him up? Don't mind if I do!

The moment Rokuta is in your arms, he immediately embraces you, his little arms just wrapped around your shoulders. Nezuko cheered you on, commenting about how Rokuta had now grew attached to you. He was nuzzling on your neck, feeling secured in your hold as you silently thanked the gods above for giving you this oppurtunity.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of Crimson hues stared at you with so much adoration from over the counter.

Tanjiro watched how the whole thing unfold. From your little game matches with Takeo, to your giggling fits with Hanako and Shigeru, and to how you held Rokuta in your arms with so much tenderness. All of this left Tanjiro feeling so much warmth and affection in his chest, and he wanted to cry out from the sheer joy of how much you had gotten along with his siblings.

You were absolutely Wonderful. Exquisite. Magnificent. Beautiful. Stunning. Heavenly.

Just so drop-dead gorgeous.

He's in absolute euphoria.

The boy won't admit it, but he's imagining his future with you. Seeing you being so happy with his little siblings makes him wonder what a family with you would look like. Gosh, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

He practically had hearts in his eyes as he kept staring at you like a lovesick puppy, not noticing that Takeo was leaning against the counter with a smug expression on his face.

"Gosh, Nii-san. I knew you had a crush on her, but I didn't know it was this bad."

Tanjiro snaps from his day dream, and he could feel so much blood rush to his face. He was so embarrassed, much more so that Takeo had caught him looking at you all this time! Takeo laughs at his brother's red face, and Tanjiro could only shriek out erratic noises to desperately request Takeo not to get too loud.

You heard a commotion from the counter, and you turned to see a completely red-faced Tanjiro waving his hands vigorously to a guffawing Takeo. You could only giggle at the sight in amusement, and when Tanjiro makes eye contact with you, his face gets even more redder.

In your arms, Rokuta shifts from your neck to look at his big brother. Noticing how the two of you gazed in each other's eyes, he claps his hands in delight and looks up to meet your [ E / C ] orbs.

"Ne, [ Y / N ]-san, will you marry my big brother?"

THE WHOLE BAKERY JUST EXPLODES IN HYSTERICS

Takeo laughs harder than he had before, grabbing at the edges of the counters to prevent himself from falling to the ground from the amount of amusement he was getting from the situation.

Hanako and Shigeru just burst out in full excitement, jumping and smiling at you, asking you repeatedly if you wanted to marry their big brother. They practically pleaded with you, their wide eyes constantly staring at you, in hopes that someday you might officially become their big sister.

Nezuko chokes in shock at her drink. She didn't expect Rokuta to say those words! She immediately goes to your side, and just repeatedly apologizes to you in behalf of Rokuta for putting you in such an awkward position. But, she cannot really lie, she would love for you to become her sister-in-law.

Tanjiro just looked at you in horror and fear. His face had hit the utmost redness it could possibly have attained, and he only wanted to crawl and hide at this very moment. He didn't want his crush on you to be revealed this way! He had special plans for that moment, but it didn't matter anymore, because you now know about his overwhelming feelings for you! Gosh, he felt so humiliated, and it didn't help that you were in such an awkward position just because of his attraction on you!

But then, he was caught off guard by your breathtaking smile. The next words sent Tanjiro's mind into a frenzy, desperately struggling with the urge to faint out of sheer bliss as the bakery exploded again into cheers of celebration.

"I would love to."

#tanjiro x reader #tanjirou x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjirou kamado x reader #demon slayer x reader #moji writes #tanjiro is husband material aight

[kaleidoscopic-quiddity]

HEROES: RISING!! RAMBLINGS & SPOILERS

Literally got out of the movie, got home, showered & sat down to type this out so its probably incoherent lol, I’ve tried to keep my notes in chronological order though 

THE ANIMATIOOOONNNN!!! THE ANIMATION FOR THE WHOLE DAMN MOVIE WAS S O GOOD BUT ESPECIALLY THE FIGHT SCENES & CGI USE 

HAWKS!!!!! we finally got him animated AND Nakamura Yuuichi’s voice for him was perfect 

Endeavor vs Dabi..... 2!!! TodorokiTouyaSayWhat

Honesty?? the hero commission and UA agreeing to send a bunch of trainees off to an isolated area with no support at all from pros?? total BS lol like I get it the movie needs its set-up but goddamn there’s no way anyone actually would’ve thought that was a good idea in-universe 

Another complaint: there was too much M*neta, that’s all 

EVERYONE IN CLASS 1-A REALLY GOT TIME TO SHINE!! seeing everyone doing lil jobs around the island was adorable

Kiri freaking out over making a baby cry had by giggling lmao he’s so cute 

Sero sectioning off the beach,,  I Love The He 

Momo was so cute this entire goddamn movie like wow I did not realise I loved her this much, best girl 

MAHORO AND KATSUMA!!!!! so freaking cute and I LOVED Mahoro’s sass 

Also loved all Mahroro and Bakugou’s interactions, king of explodokills gonna throw down with an eight year old lmao 

Speaking of Bakugou: Him constantly yelling ‘Don’t give me orders’ only to then follow said orders?? iconic 

ALSO ICONIC: Midoriya basically fucking tackling him to stop him from getting into it with Mahoro, the cain instinct everybody 

Nine has a hella cool design and like I CANNOT be the only one who thinks he looks at bit like the first OFA user AND Nana Shimura, ESPECIALLY with his hair down 

He looked cool but he’s a fuckin stupid villian, ‘I want a world where the strong rule over the weak’ bitch what world do you think you’re living in now??? 

Not to be a villain-fucker on main but Shigaraki was rlly hot in this movie 

I straight up GASPED when Nine’s blue dragon-y thing got Bakugou, I literally thought he was gonna get cut in half 

Momo and Denki literally exhausting their quirks to keep the islanders safe.... IM PROUD OF THESE FLEDGLING HEROES 

SHOJI!!!!! Shoji was SO good this movie!! gentlest giant ever! the ammount of times he shielded Mahoro & Katsuma with no regard for himself :’)) 

Mina and Tokoyami was an unexpectedly cool team-up, Dark Shadow going sicko mode when Mina gor hurt? I FELT that 

Todoroki ‘Petty’ Shouto voice: My father told me to push my body to its limits with my fire & then use my ice to cool myself down,,,,, I’m gonna do the exact opposite and almost definitely give myself hypothermia 

Seriously!!! the way he just kinda curled up on the ground after defeating Chimera??? that shit hurted 

Red Riot is on the scene! And once again I was blown away by how freaking awesome unbreakable is 

Uravity and Cellophane?? did you mean team up of the motherfucking century??? 

Uraraka pushed herself so goddamn hard she was AMAZING, that last stunt with the logs holding back the literal WAVE of boulders? plus fuckin ultra 

Aoyama was also hella plus ultra, king has an incompatible quirk that gives him severe stomach pain but he still pushed himself so far past his limits

Momo, on the verge of collapse, quirk exhausted: Hey everyone I made two whole goddamn canons 

Seriously where’s that post about how Momo loves canons despite their impracticality, this is getting ridiculous 

Using Kaminari as a freaking lightning rod,, jfc 

Everyone in the cinema lost their SHIT at Bakugou and Midoriya reaching for each other,, Midoriya saying ‘It’s fine if it’s you’ I was C R Y I N G 

Bakugou kicked Midoriya out of the way of one of Nine’s blasts, he could’ve grabbed him or yelled at him to dodge but no, he decided on  kicking him out of the way 

The cain instinct strikes again 

Seeing all of the OFA predecessors animated?? seeing Midoriya in that grey-scale with the orange flame just like All Might at Kamino?? YALL ;-; 

‘This is... the final Smash. Goodbye One For All. Thank you’ 

Bakugou finally fucking got to say ‘detroit smash’. god bless 

Nine literally summoning A Whole Fucking Tornado TM only for Midoriya and Bakugou to punch said Whole Fucking Tornado TM into submission, I can’t 

I thought Deku was gonna use Black Whip in this movie??? I really guess they were trying to avoid as many manga spoilers as possible 

Might+U during the final confrontation with Nine,,,, good fuckin use of the song 

Actually, the whole soundtrack was brilliant, Hayashi Yuki is a fucking genius 

All Might holding Bakugou and Midoriya’s hands, thanking OFA’s predecessors, aaaaaAAAAAAAAA

‘Win to save and save to win, with that you can become the ultimate heroes’ 

SPEAKING OF THAT ^ Bakugou being the one to save Mahoro whilst Deku goes in for the attack on Nine?? character growth babey 

The callbacks to Kamino,, ‘You’re Next’,, the United States of Smash,, All Might is the best don’t @ me 

Bakugou not keeping OFA and not even remembering he had it was a total asspull but I’m willing to write it off as ‘Oh well the movies are only semi-canon anyways also Plot Armour’ 

Bakugou calling Sero by his name,, Bakugou letting Kaminari live after calling him ‘Bakugou no Kacchan-kun’,,, the team up to take down Mummy, ‘Kirishima is the only person Bakugou’s actually friends with’ WHERE?? 

Deku telling Katsuma ‘you can become a hero’! we’ve come full circle and it made me fucking CRY 

Also,, the way Katsuma wants to be strong hero who can beat up any villain??? and the way Mahoro is a protective person who was literally willing to give up her life for her baby brother??? ‘win to save and save to win’??? the fuckin PARALLELS ya’ll 

Bakugou and Midoriya are brothers don’t @ me I know I’m fucking right 

I didn’t entirely understand what Katsuma’s quirk actually IS??? ‘cell activation’ means fuck all lmao 

Todoroki’s FACE when Endeavour was hugging him, like literaly boi had almost frozen himself solid but he still somehow managed to look more disgruntled dealing with his dad 

IIDA REALLY GOT TO STEP UP!! he and Momo taking charge and delegating tasks?? Iida going in BY HIMSELF to distract Chimera? Iida using Torque Over??? IM SO PROUD :’)

Speaking of Chimera what the fuck even is his quirk? at first I just thought he had a mutant-type quirk then I was like ‘oh cool it’s actually a transformation-type’ then he started shooting his fucking mouTH BEAM and like isn’t that an emitter??? how the hell can he do all that with Just One Quirk 

Nine: ‘There can only be... one leader’ 

Shigaraki, disintegrating him: ‘Yeah and it’s me bitch’ 

the future king has arrived,,, 

In conclusion: platonic bkdk rights, dadmight is canon, I would die for Mahoro & Katsuma, go beyond plus ultra! 

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #heroes rising #heroes rising spoilers #boku no hero academia: heroes rising

[rutilation]

In honor of the wailing and gnashing of teeth that has occurred in the last few days for fear of potential incoming Joshua discourse, I have decided to get ahead of the curve and start discoursing about him before the anime even airs!

(--because he’s an interesting character who I didn’t really understand until several years after finishing the game.)

So, I got into the game around 2010, and while I comprehended the broad strokes of Joshua’s character, he seemed more like an inscrutable trickster than a person with relatable emotions, and his reasons for setting the plot into motion were as opaque to me as his reasons for backing off at the last second.

In particular, a big sticking point for me was his assessment of Neku.  He considered him “the worst person in Shibuya” and chose him as a proxy because of that.  And for years I thought that was the most ludicrous aspect of the game.  If the very worst person you can find in your bustling metropolis is a grumpy teenager who only has the potential to commit murder when under duress, then how could you possibly think that it’s beyond salvation, you utterly incoherent moron!  But, several years afterwards, I realized why he saw Shibuya as unsalvageable, and why he held Neku in such contempt, and the disparate elements of the character started to click into place for me.  

For as much as Joshua likes to put on airs, his motivations aren’t rational in the slightest.  When Joshua says that Shibuya has grown shallow and static, he’s really talking about himself, and is projecting all the things he hates about himself onto the surrounding environment.  He singles out Neku not because this run-of-the-mill moody teen is objectively the worst person in Shibuya, but because he sees Neku as a younger, more naive version of himself, and in a classic example of the narcissistic element of self-hatred, being like him is the most irredeemable sin Joshua can conceive of.

Then, I started thinking about what he actually intended to accomplish with his whole plan, and specifically, the duel at the end.  I don’t think Joshua had any intention of presiding over a remade Shibuya.  I think he was banking on Neku killing him and taking his place, and all that stuff about hijacking Shibuya from the composer during week two was for the sole purpose of planting that idea in Neku’s head.  In life, Joshua was friendless, miserable, and myopic.  He had hoped that by entering the world of the reapers’ game, he might find a sense of fulfillment.  But in the end, this mere change of scenery didn’t do anything to address his underlying malaise, and life felt just as empty as it did before.   Thus, he sets his plan in motion, intending to pass on his awful torch to a fellow awful person.  

What he didn’t count on was Neku growing as a person and gaining hope instead of losing it.  Joshua wanted to end his own world, but the outcome of all his scheming was that it opened up instead.  Instead of validating his grand act of self-destruction as planned, Neku refutes Joshua's worldview in a way he can't ignore or dismiss.

When I first saw the secret ending, my reaction was something along the lines of: “Aww, I guess he’s not totally heartless after all.”  But looking back on it, I can’t really see it as anything other than tragic.  Joshua can’t lie to himself anymore, can’t continue to protect himself with a shield of apathy and cynicism, but because of the permanence of his past choices, he can’t actually free himself from this isolated and claustrophobic world he’s created either, and that prison is made all the more painful now that he realizes how much he’s missing out on.  All he can do in the secret ending is watch forlornly as that younger version of himself grows up, makes connections, and moves on, while he’s still stuck at a dead-end.

(There’s a moment during the credits of KH:3D in which Joshua is perched above the rest of the cast on a giant letter, parodying his fondness for sitting on buildings.  The others soon take notice of him, and hassle him into coming down and joining them.  When I noticed it, it warmed my heart a bit, and made me hopeful about the trajectory of his character, regardless of whether or not a sequel would actually materialize.)

But all that being said, what I just wrote isn’t what the fine folk in the TWEWY fandom mean when they refer to Joshua discourse.  As far as I can tell, the true discursive quandary is thus:  “Is Joshua, in fact, Komaeda?”  Well I have bad news for you guys because, in my humble opinion, he kind of is?  

Now, I realize that knowing enough to write several paragraphs about such a cursed character can be seen as me telling on myself, but in my defense, your honor, I didn’t get into danganronpa until a few years after its popularity peaked.  Whatever discourse wars were waged over Komaeda and his zipper-shoes back in 2013, I was not a part of them.  With that out of the way...

You know those posts that get passed around here every so often about how the concept of gifted children sucks?  How it puts too much pressure on them?  How it encourages them to see themselves as instrumentally rather than inherently valuable?  How it leaves them anxious, depressed, and bereft of ways to cope?  Well, that’s the underlying allegory of SDR2, and underneath all the wacky shenanigans that comprise your average danganronpa title, that’s what the cast is contending with.  This is true of it’s protagonist, and especially true of his rival.

in much the same way that Joshua is the worst parts of Neku exaggerated and taken to their logical conclusion, Komaeda plays precisely that role for Hinata.  Both characters serve as a cautionary tale for the respective toxic mindsets that these games are denouncing.

Now that I think about it, Komaeda almost seems like an evolution of the concept, because he intuits from a fairly early point in the story that the protagonist’s very essence is a refutation of his worldview.  He insists on viewing Hinata as being far above him, but in actuality he realizes Hinata is in a similar situation--see his comment in one of the FTEs that Hinata feels like a miserable outsider like himself.  And if someone even a little bit like him is capable of experiencing happiness and connecting with others, what then?  The gap between how Komaeda wants to feel and how he actually feels is a subtle but reoccurring thread throughout the story.  This, I think, is why he seems to regard Hinata with both attraction and revulsion, treating him as simultaneously an avatar of his repressed will (hence why he attempts to bolster him in the class trials,) and an object of scorn (hence the smattering of passive aggressive jabs before chapter four, and the outright antagonism from that point forward.)  While Joshua fools himself until the the end of the game, Komaeda, master of doublethink that he is, seems at times self-aware of the fact that he is a foil in the literary sense, and that awareness partly informs his neurosis.  His take on the character type feels a little more post-modern, I suppose? 

Anyway, it wouldn’t surprise me if Joshua were an inspiration for Komaeda’s character and role in the story.  But even then, I suspect that the question is less, “Is Joshua, in fact, the same sort of character as Komaeda?” and more “Is Joshua, in fact, going to become a contemptible meme like Komeada?”  To which I say, probably not.  *knock on wood*

For one thing, while TWEWY will certainly experience an uptick in popularity once the anime starts airing, that doesn’t necessarily mean it will capture the nerd zeitgeist enough to turn one of its characters into a meme that transcends the story from whence it came.  Furthermore, there’s more to being a tumblr sexy meme man than merely belonging to an archetype.  Komaeda’s spiritual successor in DRV3 is kind of popular, but isn’t an inter-fandom joke in the same way he is, and neither are Kaworu from Eva or Ryo from Devilman, for that matter, and those are the grandfathers of the archetype in question.  In addition, the other infamous tumblr sexymen that come to mind, Sans and Onceler, aren’t a part of the white-haired-anime-rival-boy archetype, and Sans isn’t even a conventionally attractive twink.  I posit that the alchemy determining which characters and media tumblr loses its shit over is more varied and complicated than it appears at first glance.  (Not that I actually want to devote much brainpower to that particular field of study, lol.)

Uhhhhh... in conclusion, thank you for reading my words and also the DR3 anime is trash.

#the world ends with you #twewy

[thelazyhermits]

No Holding Back

I wanna start off by saying that right now I don’t plan to write the end of the year final exam aside from what I wrote in that one post I reblogged yesterday. I just don’t have any inspiration for the actual battle and I think it’d be better in third person POV which is not my preference since I like writing second person.

However, there is one scene that happens before the exam that I really wanted to write, so here it is. I hope y’all enjoy it! ^-^

Today’s the big day. The day you’ve been preparing for these past several weeks.

The day of Class 1-A’s practical final exam

Rather than be with the other teachers who are currently explaining to the students what their exam will be like, you’re walking through the fake cityscape where your exam will be held. The reason for this being that Nedzu thought it would be extra entertaining if Midoriya and Bakugou didn’t find out who their exam proctor was until the very last minute.

While you could’ve waited to reveal yourself during the exam, you decided not to since you wanted to talk to the boys beforehand. There’s something important you want them to know that needs to be said before the exam begins.

That’s why you decide to wait for your students at the cityscape’s entrance, wearing the hero suit Hatsume has been working on with the exception of your helmet since you wanted the boys to be able to see your face when you were talking to them. You want them to be able to see how important what you’re about to tell them is. 

On the way to the entrance, you check to make sure all the traps you and Hatsume set up all across the cityscape are in place and ready to go. Thankfully, since your exam is the last one of the day, you have plenty of time to do this.

About fifteen minutes after you eventually arrive at the entrance gate, the school bus driven by Yagi drops off Midoriya and Bakugou, who are both clad in their hero costumes. Once they take notice of you, their eyes grow large.

“Y/N-sensei?!”

With a smile, you wave at your students. “Hey, guys, I bet you weren’t expecting me when you were told your exam proctor would be a surprise, huh?”

Thankfully, the boys don’t look disappointed about the fact that you’re their opponent, just surprised. Even though you knew it was stupid, a little part of you had worried that Midoriya and Bakugou would be disappointed that they didn’t get a stronger opponent like the other teachers, so it’s a relief to see that they don’t appear bothered by your role in their final exam.

Bakugou crosses his arms. “So, that’s why we’re the only team that doesn’t have the option of running away. It would be too fucking easy otherwise.”

While a panicked Midoriya tries to quietly scold his classmate, obviously worried that you’d be offended by the blond’s words, you chuckle, “That’s right. If this were a contest of speed, there’s no way I could stop you two. So, we decided to get rid of that option since the point of this exam is to challenge you.”

A grin forms on your lips. “Besides doing that, in order to make things as challenging as possible, we also added the rule about me being able to win if I successfully destroy seventy-five percent or greater of the town you two heroes are supposed to be protecting. Aren’t we teachers so kind? Now, your exam will be even more fun!”

Amusingly enough, Bakugou seems quite pleased with this setup. Midoriya, on the other hand, is chuckling nervously, looking like he can’t decide if he should be happy like his former childhood friend or worried about this situation.

Your grin grows. “You know, the principal was the one who decided I would be your exam proctor. Out of all the teachers, he wanted me to be your opponent. Do you know why?”

Both students stare at you with obvious surprise before shaking their heads. Midoriya then moves to grab his chin. “Considering how the summer final exams were set up, you must have been chosen because the principal believed you were the teacher that posed the greatest challenge for us. Could it be because of your Quirk, or maybe...”

You can’t tell what he says after that since he starts mumbling under his breath, doing so at a very impressive speed that you have no chance of keeping up with. While you watch the green haired boy with obvious amusement, Bakugou glares at him. “Stop your fucking muttering, Deku! No one can fucking understand you if you talk like that, you dumbass!”

Midoriya’s mumbling comes to an abrupt halt as the shorter boy dons a sheepish expression. “Ah, right. Sorry, Kacchan.”

Rolling his eyes, the blond turns to focus his gaze back on you. “Are you gonna tell us the fucking reason, or are we supposed to figure it out ourselves?”

Your eyes twinkle mischievously. “I could tell you, but I won’t. You’re both smart boys after all. I’m sure you’ll both figure it out soon enough.”

Bakugou clicks his tongue at your response while Midoriya’s expression becomes determined. Despite his initial reaction, you know the hothead will work hard to figure out the reason since there’s no way his pride would allow the green haired boy to figure it out before him.

That’s when you remember why you came out to meet the two in the first place. “You were actually supposed to find out about me being your opponent once the exam started, but I decided to meet you guys here ‘cause there’s something I have to tell you before the exam.”

Your expression turns serious, immediately earning you the students’ full, undivided attention. Their postures straighten as their brows furrow while you quietly study them closely for the next several seconds.

Expression never changing, you finally open your mouth to say, “I love you.”

There’s a brief moment of silence before your words properly register, and then, the boys react.

“Ehhhhh?!”

“W-What the fuck?!”

The corners of your lips curve upwards as both their faces turn red, with Midoriya unsurprisingly sporting an extra dark blush that covers his whole face. Rather than tease them like you normally would, you continue, “I admire you both a lot; I have for a long time. You’re two of the strongest people I know, and you guys never cease to amaze me.”

Both students stare at you with wide eyes as you smile softly. “I’m very proud of both of you and how far you’ve come. I consider it an honor to call myself someone you two call teacher. It’s a role I treasure with all my heart.”

Midoriya’s eyes grow teary. “Sensei…”

While Bakugou remains strangely quiet, you put your hands on your hips. “It’s because I love and admire you both so much that I want to give you the best possible challenge. That’s why I have no intention to hold back against you guys. When we face each other, I’m fighting to win.”

Your eyes gain a serious gleam. “So, I want you guys to do the same, understand? I don’t want either of you to even consider holding back against me out of worry that you’ll hurt me with your powerful Quirks. I want you to treat me like you would an actual villain who’s going on a rampage across town.”

A smirk forms on your lips. “The only way you stand a chance of winning is by going at me with all your strength, so if you wanna pass this exam, you better bring nothing less than your A game. Otherwise, I’ll have to give you guys your first failing grade.”

“Hah!”

Immediately, your and Midoriya’s eyes focus on Bakugou who’s giving you his trademark grin. “Like I’d ever do something so half-assed! I was planning on going all out from the start! You’re going down, Sensei!”

Midoriya quickly brings his gaze back to you and gives you a determined look. “We won’t hold back, Sensei! We’ll put everything into this fight and defeat you! We absolutely won’t lose!”

It’s obvious from their expressions that they’re both completely serious. Your students have no intention to lose to you, so you won’t have to worry about them holding back on you.

Warmth bubbles in your chest as you smile at them. “I have high expectations for you both. Don’t let me down.”

Both boys grin at you in return. “Right!”

Knowing you shouldn’t put off the exam any longer, you decide to head back into the cityscape to get ready. Before you do, you decide to have a little fun at your students’ expense. “I’m glad to see you guys so motivated. I thought I would have to offer you both a kiss like I did for the obstacle course race at the Cultural Festival, but I guess I don’t need to, huh?”

Bright blushes color their cheeks as Midoriya begins incoherently stammering. Bakugou scowls as he glares at you. “I told you all I cared about was winning! I didn’t want the damn kiss!”

A teasing grin forms on your lips. “Uh huh. Suuuure. That’s totally the only reason you two were working so hard to win that race.”

Midoriya’s face is completely scarlet now. “S-Sensei!”

You give them a wink before turning to head inside the cityscape. “If you guys really impress me, I might give you another kiss, so good luck!”

The green haired boy releases an embarrassed squeak while Bakugou starts cursing. Meanwhile, you’re laughing as you hurry to get ready for the exam.

Looks like I managed to give myself some more ammunition for the fight. Hopefully, the boys won’t hold it against me if I use their flustered reactions to my advantage.

Your grin grows. This is gonna be so much fun. 

#TABF post scene #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #my writing #fortune just couldn't resist teasing them at the end #you can bet she'll be bring that back up #during the exam #when she needs to distract them #fortune's going all out #and has no qualms about being sneaky #midoriya and bakugou better work hard haha #I just love the mental image of fortune saying I love you with a serious face #and imagining the guys' reactions #too funny XD

[master-thief-gray-shadow]

A Real Life Coffee Shop Romance

Chapter 1

Next chapter

Summary: Tsugumi knows better than anyone that being a barista is fairly boring. You greet customers, you make coffee, and you may even enjoy it, but in the end it's still mundane and uneventful, regardless of what Himari might say about coffee shops and romance. But maybe falling for a regular isn't quite as out there as she'd initially thought.

Notes: The last time I attempted any kind of multichap fic was back in early 2016. In early 2016 I also kind of sucked at writing and had a tendency to severely overestimate my own ability to get anything done. I’ve done a lot of reflection on my skills in the last half a year or so, and I figured I should give it a shot again. I’m starting smaller this time, much smaller. No epic action sequences...at least, as far as you know.

“So what kind of coffee do you think Kaoru-senpai drinks? I need to know, this is important.”

Tomoe snorted. “Seta-senpai doesn’t drink coffee. She drinks a cup of milk and sugar with a little coffee mixed in.”

Himari’s jaw dropped. “What? But Kaoru-senpai is so cool, that...that doesn’t seem right at all!”

“Why does it matter how Seta-san takes her coffee?” Ran said cooly before taking another bite of her lunch.

“Writing another fanfic, are we?” Moca said, her trademark lazy smirk adorning her face as she leaned back against the rooftop fence. “Is this one a coffee shop AU?”

Himari sputtered, nearly dropping her lunch as her face went bright red. “Th-that’s not...I’m not even…” It was all she could squeak out before devolving into incoherent babbles.

“Aha, caught ya,” Moca said, sounding extraordinarily pleased with herself. “I can see riiiiiight through you, Hii-chan.”

“Moca-chan, please.” Tsugumi figured that this was as good a time as any to step in. This sort of thing was ingrained in her at this point. “Leave Himari-chan’s hobbies alone.” It was no secret to the rest of Afterglow that Himari wrote “fan fiction” not just of the various romance manga she enjoyed, but also about the Prince of Haneoka herself, Seta Kaoru. It was just a matter of getting the other members (namely Moca) to stop teasing her about it. It wasn’t even that bad, really. Sure, a lot of what she wrote was cheesy, but that served to make it even more satisfying. Not that Tsugumi was biased or anything.

“Wait, hold on, go back.” Tomoe raised her arms slightly in confusion. “What the hell is a coffee shop AU?”

It was almost unsettling how quickly Himari’s expression shifted from embarrassment and visible distress to barely-contained excitement. Ran could be heard letting out a long breath through her nose right before Himari launched into an enthusiastic explanation. “So sometimes romance is thrilling when it’s about star-crossed lovers in life-or-death situations defying everything to be together, right? But sometimes it’s more beautiful when it’s more everyday and ordinary!” She clutched at her chest. “Sometimes you take characters who lead exciting lives and put them in an everyday situation, one that you might find yourself in sometimes! Like a chance meeting in a coffee shop!” Himari was swooning by now, and the hearts in her eyes were almost visible. “To make a destined connection, in a place as simple as the line at a cafe and with someone as ordinary and hardworking as the barista...that is true romance!”

There was a somewhat too long moment of silence as Himari finished her...well, it was sort of an explanation, in a really impassioned way. Surprisingly, it was Ran who spoke up first. “What’s so romantic about a coffee shop?”

Another uncomfortably long silence. Followed by all eyes shifting towards Tsugumi. “Um...why are you all looking at me?”

Tomoe reached up to scratch the back of her head. “Well, you’re a barista, right?” She said. “So you’d probably know all about coffee shops and romance, right?”

“Of course she would!” Himari still seemed to be swept up in the apparent genuine interest in one of her hobbies. “Tsugu knows her way around a coffee shop better than anyone else we know! Surely you’re familiar with seeing a customer come in, and then you take their order, and then there’s this spark, right?”

“Yeah Tsugu,” Moca teased, “I bet you know all about getting crushes on your patrons, hm? Care to tell us who the really cute ones are?”

Now it was Tsugumi who was blushing. “O-oh, it’s not like that at all!” She said, waving her hands defensively. “We’re friendly with all the customers, obviously, especially the regulars, b-but that kind of thing doesn’t really happen, sorry.” She smiled sheepishly. What else was she supposed to do when being put on the spot like this?

“Yeah, I know,” Himari sighed, now having again dramatically shifted her emotions, this time toward disappointment. “But it’s fun to imagine, y’know?” A slight dreamy look started to return to her eyes.

“I suppose it is for you,” Tsugumi said with a small laugh. “But I’m just a normal barista. It’s nothing special.”

The conversation soon steered away from coffee shops, somehow toward some kind of debate about whether some anime character could beat a different character from a different anime in a fight, but even as she listened in something was sticking in Tsugumi’s mind. What if she somehow made that kind of connection with a cafe patron? A “spark,” as Himari had called it? It was a little silly to think about. She was a plain, ordinary girl who worked at a plain, ordinary coffee shop. She was hardly very interesting or appealing outside her job, and probably not much changed about that while she was working. What kind of person would even feel a spark with her? Sparks were for cool and interesting people. Like Eve. If anyone was going to meet their soulmate while working at a cafe, it would definitely be Eve. Eve was a model, an idol, and a modern-day samurai, all on top of already being a gorgeous foreign beauty, and Tsugumi was...well…

An espresso probably had more appeal and character than her, didn’t it?

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

Hazawa Cafe was usually quiet in the late afternoons. Most of the customers came in during the few hours following lunch, and by 4 PM almost everyone would have cleared out. Today wasn’t any different. The first rays of the setting sun crept through the window as Tsugumi kept herself busy cleaning up behind the counter. They would close in an hour or two, but for now she was here, keeping watch for any latecomers. 

The familiar tinkling of bells as the door opened caught her attention. The person who stepped through held it.

“Ah!” She perked up, the sight of one of her favorite regulars bringing a genuine smile to her face. “Good afternoon, Sayo-san.”

With the same breathtaking grace she carried herself with everywhere else, Sayo approached the counter, her face its usual mask of bored disdain save for the almost imperceptible upward turn of the corners of her mouth. It was something that at this point Tsugumi was sure only she was able to notice. “Good afternoon, Hazawa-san.”

“Plain black dark roast like always, right?” Ever since they had gotten to know each other when the cafe had held a baking class, Sayo seemed to come here almost every day at this late hour, often to do homework or study. At this point Tsugumi had a pretty good grasp on her tastes. She was simple and unpretentious, and reluctant to overindulge. “Oh, and that cake over there was just made this afternoon.”

Sayo eyed the remaining half of the cake in its display case. “Cinnamon crumb…” She said, her eyebrows knitting together thoughtfully. Her gaze seemed to soften just a little, the smallest of lights shimmering in her eyes at the prospect of house-baked goods. Once again she turned that gaze toward Tsugumi, and she really couldn’t help but wonder just what was in the depths of those beautiful jade eyes. “That sounds wonderful. I’ll have a small piece.”

Even as she rang up Sayo’s order and gave her the total, she couldn’t even remember what it was. All she could focus on was Sayo’s slow blink and gentle nod of acknowledgement, the feel of their fingers lightly brushing as she handed her change back, the way her hair moved as she turned to take a seat at a table, like the branches of a willow in a gentle wind. It took her a small extra second to get started on Sayo’s order, just an extra second so Tsugumi could take her in.

It would never happen, of course. It never could happen. But it would really be something if Sayo had a crush on her, wouldn’t it?

Himari was right about one thing, Tsugumi mused. It was fun to imagine.

#tsugumi hazawa #sayo hikawa #tsugusayo #bandori #arlcsr #gray writes

[snapchattingnct]

One of Many Reasons Why

Mark Lee x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: cursing, minor religion mentioned

Summary: There were many reasons to love Mark Lee…

Notes: Happiest of birthdays to our baby lion, Mark Lee. I had a totally different piece written for his birthday but I completely scrapped it and wrote this instead. And I like it so much better. -  K 🌱

1. Circle Frames

Mark usually wore contacts most of the time, which was disappointing since he looked so stinking cute in those precious circle frames of his. But whenever he got too lazy or forgot to buy more contacts, he would end up wearing his glasses instead. And those were moments that you lived for. You couldn’t help but coo at how cute he looked each time that he wore them, taking a billion pictures of him as you did so. Mark would simply push away your phone, becoming incredibly flustered, telling you, “Ugh, babe stop….”

2. Messy Love Notes

Mark had a habit of writing you little love notes every chance he got. Most of the time, his love notes were never written on a clean sheet of paper. They were usually short blurbs scribbled messily on whatever he could get his hands on; a Starbucks napkin, on the back of his music theory quiz, a crumpled up post-it note. But that didn’t matter, you loved it regardless.

Unfolding the folded love note Mark had slipped to you in passing earlier, you couldn’t help but smile as you read the messily written note on the corner of a flashcard. ‘I love you to the moon and back.’

3. Secret Handshakes

For someone who was extremely clumsy and sometimes a little uncoordinated, Mark loved making secret handshakes for all of his friends. And you weren’t an exception. Since the day that you’ve met each other, way before the two of you became a couple, you and Mark have been adding a new move to your guys’ handshake. Each time that you two saw each other, it still amazes you how either one of you were able to memorize all the moves at this point.

4. Baby Giggles

No matter how much, Mark loves to deny it. Mark Lee was nothing but a big baby. He is the epitome of a baby. Especially when he giggles and laughs at things that he finds amusing. Even though he’s older, whenever that cute giggle of his slips passed his lips, you can’t help but feel a sense of overprotectiveness overcome you. Mark Lee was to be protective at all cost because he’s simply precious like that.

5. Goofball

Sometimes it was so hard to take Mark seriously because at the end of the day, he was nothing but a goofball. He would laugh at the simplest things, the lamest jokes, and the cheesiest puns. The best part was that even when it wasn’t funny, he would still laugh. And he just had the most contagious laugh in the whole world. So you couldn’t help but laugh along with him until your stomach hurt.

6. Warm Cuddles

Maybe you were biased but Mark gave the best hugs and was the best cuddle buddy in the world. No one could compare. The best kind are the ones that he gave on those calm, Sunday mornings. Eyes barely open and mind barely awake, Mark would pull you closer, sharing his warmth with you. Then with a lazy hand, he would thread his fingers through your hair. Mumbling softly into your hair, he would say, “Let’s just stay in bed all day babe…”

7. Burnt Eggs

It was a universally acknowledged fact that Mark Lee was a terrible cook. He wasn’t even able to boil water without it evaporating completely. He was honestly that bad of a cook. So the one morning that he decided that it would be a brilliant idea to wake up early and make you an omelette for breakfast, he almost burned down half the building. From then on, Mark was completely banned from the kitchen stove. These days, he still wakes up early and prepares breakfast for you though. Except he just orders it from your favorite bakery down the street, which was a much better option for everyone.

8. Watermelon Boy

There were two things in the world that Mark Lee loved with his entire heart. Of course, one of those things was you. But the love he had for watermelon was equally as strong. Honestly speaking, had he not met you in this lifetime, you were sure that he would have ended up marrying a watermelon.

He was all yours for three seasons out of four. When summer hit though, that was a completely different story because with summer comes the watermelons. Surprisingly with how much he buys and brings home everyday, you weren’t sick of eating all that watermelon. It might have been the cute, happy smile that he has on his face each time he ate them that made it worth it.

9. What the Flute?

Mark Lee was talented at a lot of things; rapping, composing, singing, dancing, and the list simply goes on and on. But the one thing that he wasn’t good at playing the flute. The day that you had found the instrument case of his flute back from primary school was the day that you realized that there were some things that Mark couldn’t do. You had teased him, calling him a cute band geek as you pulled the case out from the back of his closet. Flipping through the old music scores, you asked him if he could still play it.

Shrugging his shoulders, he said, “Maybe? I’m not sure. It’s been a while.”

And it has been a while because the moment that he held the flute up to his lips and tried to play it, nothing but squeaks came out. This left you rolling on the floor laughing as you clutched your stomach in pain. The laughing didn’t stop as Mark continued to give his best effort in playing the flute.

Let’s just say that his primary school days of playing in a marching band were long over.

10. Team Android

No matter how many times you had urged him to upgrade his phone to an iPhone, Mark continued to stay loyal to that android of his. You didn’t have a problem with him having an android. No, not at all. You just wanted to be able to use all the cute talking emojis on iMessage.

11. Fully Capable

It was pretty rare for Mark to ever feel nervous about his performances and presentations. Mark was one of the top students in their music department. He was the department’s golden child. He could literally do anything that he would set his mind to. You had just wished that he knew that he was good enough and he didn’t have anything to fear.

One night, during finals, Mark was on the verge of a mental breakdown as he tried to finish the composition for his music theory class. As he angrily tossed aside his notebook and guitar, you came up to him and immediately pulled him into your arms. With a soothing hand running through his hair, you said, “Hey, it’s okay babe.”

Mumbling incoherently into the nape of your neck, “No, it’s not… I can’t even rearrange this stupid simple song. How am I supposed to do anything in life?”

“You’re just thinking too hard about it. Relax, babe.”

“How the hell am I supposed to relax when I have nothing finished and this is due in like five hours?” He cried out, clearly frustrated.

Pulling away from the embrace, you cupped his face in between the palm of your hands, forcing him to look at you directly in the eye. “Hey. Seriously. Quit being so negative right now. This isn’t like you. Because the Mark Lee I know is a music genius and he’s absolutely fully capable of anything and everything.”

12. Butterfly Kisses

Kisses from Mark were also the best and you might be a little biased again, but it’s the truth. Sometimes Mark gets a little too shy to kiss you outright on the lips, so he showers you with butterfly kisses instead. First, he’ll bring your hand to his lips and kiss the back of it. Then he’ll pull you in close and place a fleeting kiss on your temple. Then your cheeks, then your nose, and lastly your lips.

13. Multilingual King

Even after knowing Mark for so many years, it still amazes you how many languages the boy knows and can pick up on so quick. He was like your own personal translator when you guys when on trips to foreign countries. But it was also funny how he would stumble over his words sometimes when he’s trying to switch between languages. When that happens, he just puts his hands out in a pausing motion, shouting, “Okay. Wait, wait. I need to switch my brain over.”

14. Corny Jokes

The jokes that he tells you and the ones that he finds funny are ones that are rivaling of your dad’s. His sense of humor was really one of a father in their mid-thirties.

As the two of you sit there side by side, enjoying a bowl of cold watermelon, he begins to laugh obnoxiously before he can even say the joke. Already prepared for the worst joke in the world, you sit there, staring straight back at him with an unamused look.

After he’s finished with his laughing fit, he smiles and feeds you a piece of watermelon, saying, “Babe, you’re one in a melon.”

15. Spiderman Mark Lee

For Halloween, Mark’s friends decided to throw a Marvel themed party and it was the best idea that they could ever come up with. Why? Because Mark Lee decided to go to the party as Spiderman. And you may or may not have a crush on Peter Parker but Mark didn’t need to know that.

But when he got tired of all the drinking games that his friends were playing, he scouted you out amongst the crowd. And when he saw that you were sitting on the swing set that Jaemin’s family had in the backyard, he came up with the most brilliant plan.

Sneaking up behind you as quiet as he could, Mark climbed on top of the jungle gym above the swings. Then nearly scaring the living daylights out of you, he swung downwards, straight in front of your face, whispering, “Hey.”

“Oh my gosh! Mark Lee!” You screamed. Hand clutching your racing heart, you breathed out heavily through your nose. “You can’t go around and do things like this and not expect me to die from a premature heart attack!”

“Sorry,” he laughed. Then pulling the ends of his mask up, he whispered softly, “Here, take a kiss as my apology.”

And you might have just died when he said that because that was such a classic Spiderman move.

16. Billionaire

The day the ‘Billionaire’ by Bruno Mars had came on the radio as the two of you were studying, it instantly became your guys’ song. It was on repeat for the longest of time, to the point to where you both knew the rap and vocal parts equally by heart. Each time that it came on, you didn’t have to think for a second before you’re belting out the chorus together, whether it was out in public or in the comfort of your own apartment. You didn’t care because it was your song.

17. Driver’s License

For someone his age, you would think that he would have a driver’s license by now. But nope, that wouldn’t be Mark Lee would it?

One day as you’re picking him up from his shift at the music store down the street from his apartment complex you couldn’t help but ask, “Don’t you think you should get your driver’s license? I mean you’re almost twenty one...”

Nodding, Mark said in reply, “Yeah, I probably should…”

And that he did.

Because the next day, before the sun was even up, he came knocking on your apartment’s door. Barely awake, you had answered the door with annoyance, yanking it open, “Babe. It’s not even eight. What do you want?”

“Well, good morning to you too, princess.” Mark chuckled.

After closing the door, he follows you back to your bedroom, where you flopped rather ungracefully back onto your bed. Crawling into the empty space beside you, he tucked a strand behind your ear, smiling as he stares back at you intently. “Guess what I did this morning?”

Leaning into his touch, you close your eyes, relishing in the warmth that he was giving off. With a soft hum, you asked half-asleep, “What did you do?”

“I got my driver’s license.”

Eyes shooting wide open and mouth completely agape, you exclaimed, “You what?!”

Scrambling to sit up, you slapped him on the shoulder, making him laugh even harder. “Wait, hold up.” You said as you held your hands up, trying to wrap your mind around what Mark has just told you. Sputtering, “You… actually went and got a driver’s license? You know I was just joking right?”

“Yeah, but I figured that it was time to get one anyways.” He smiled. “Plus it was a piece of cake.”

“Only you, Mark Lee. Only you.”

“Yes, that would be me. I am Mark Lee.”

“Oh shush,” you couldn’t help but laugh. Then extending your hand out to him, you gave him a sweet smile. “Alright, the moment of truth. Let me see that driver’s license photo.”

The smile on his lips widen even more as he reached into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. Then placing his freshly new driver’s license into the palm of your awaiting hand, he leaned back satisfied.

And course he would be satisfied. Mark looked devilishly handsome on his license. But you couldn’t help but tease him about it as you pinched his cheeks, saying, “Aww look at our Markie Poo being all cool and handsome.”

Pushing your hands away from his face, Mark snatched his license back and tucked it away into his wallet. Then opening his arms, he asked, “Alright, are we going to cuddle or are you going to continue making fun of me?”

“Who says that I can’t do both?” You told him teasingly as you tucked yourself into his waiting arms, snuggling up against his warm body.

18. Baby Lion

“Baby Lion”, that was one of the many nicknames that you had for Mark. You weren’t quite sure where the nickname had come from. But the day that you saw Mark wake up from his nap, stretching and yawning like a cute baby cub with his hair a complete disarray, it clicked.

19. Religious Boy

Mark Lee was a wholesome, kind-hearted, and precious boy. He would never fail to remind you how he is ever so thankful that God had allowed someone like you to enter into his life; to have someone to love and support through thick and thin. He told you once that he prays for your health and happiness every night before he sleeps and you couldn’t help but feel that there really wasn’t another Mark Lee in this world.

20. Black Haired Mark

You honestly didn’t think that Mark could get any handsomer than he already was until the day he came back from the barber shop and had his hair dyed black. Without warning, he had sneaked up behind and wrapped his arms around you as the two of you stood in the kitchen. You were too busy reviewing your study notes and drinking your morning coffee to notice his new hair. But when you did, you were nothing but a sputtering mess and spilling coffee all over the counter.

Mouth agape, you exclaimed, “Oh. My. Gosh. Your hair…”

Nodding his head, he ruffled his hair shyly. “Yeah. I figured it was time for a change. Spice it up a little bit from the classic brown.”

The words had left your mouth before you could stop it, “Yeah, spice it up alright, because you look hot.”

21. Best Friend

Before the two of you even became a couple, you were each other’s best friend. Mark was the best friend that you could only dream of having. He laughed with you at the stupid things you did and tries to make you feel better about yourself. Even when you don’t want to hear it, Mark gives you the most honest advice and makes sure to keep you in check. He’s always there for you, even when he’s thousands of miles away for vacations with his family or concerts for the music department. He makes sure that he is the first to say ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’ to you. And last but not least, Mark loves you at your best and he still loves you even at your worst.

#ncitynetwork #neowritingsnet #nct #nct mark lee #mark lee #nct u #nct 127 #mark #nct mark fic #mark lee fic #nct fic #nct scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop fics #fics #nct 127 scenarios #nct fluff #mark lee fluff #fluff #nct mark fluff #happy mark day #admin K 🌱

[likeanemployee]

White Rose Week: First Date/The Coffee House

“YOU’RE WHAT!?!” Yang cried out in surprised joy “aww my little baby sister is growing up so fast!” she added squeezing Ruby in a tight hug which lifted Ruby in the air and shook her back and forth

“Yang stop you’re killing me…” Ruby managed to squeak out leading her to set Ruby down

“Oh don’t be dramatic you’re fine” Yang answered dismissively but Ruby pointed an accusatory finger at her and replied

“ME!?... you’re the one being dramatic what’s the big deal about me going to some coffee house with Weiss”

“Ruby, Weiss asked you and only you to go with her and only her to a café” Yang paused but when Ruby just stared back blankly, she continued “For coffee, annnddd we have a perfectly good coffee maker in the dorm?” She raised her voice making the statement a question hoping even Ruby would put the blindingly obvious dots together.

She didn’t. “So?” she asked in mildly irritated confusion.

“Ruby, it’s a date!” Yang shouted back shaking her head at her oblivious sister “she asked you out on a date!”

“What!?!” Ruby shouted back in shocked horror as she realized Yang was right. “Oh no. no, no, no, no, no!” she panicked pulling her hood over her head in embarrassment and pacing rapidly around Yang who just laughed in response

“Honestly, it’s about time me and Blake had an ongoing bet on which one of you was going to ask the other out for months, Which I just won” she added smugly “and Ren is holding a small fortune, he’s the only one we all trust, from all the bets on when it would happen half the school is in on that pool!”

“NO! NO! NO!...” Ruby continued only becoming more frantic and panicked as Yang spoke.

Yang ignored her sister musing to herself “I wonder who won that pool there’s some good money there. My next date was next Tuesday, I think Blake had this Friday, Nora and Ren had Saturday and Sunday I remember because those are always hot dates and I was mad they got to them first. I’m not sure who would have had today. I mean who asks someone out on a Wednesday? It’s the middle of the week! We have class and homework and woah hey easy Rubes you’ll hurt yourself!” Yang said realizing Ruby had moved from panic to frenzy dashing around Yang with her hands on her head. Her no’s had devolved into nothing more than an incoherent scream. Yang reach out carefully as she spoke and caught Ruby.

“I can’t… I mean it’s not… or well I don’t know.” Ruby mumbled nervously at Yang who gave her a slight shake before replying

“Ruby!” she called to get her attention before asking “you do like her right?”

“Well,” Ruby answered hesitating from embarrassment “I mean yeah, I guess” she finished deciding it would be best to just be honest “That is I think I do but I don’t really know I mean I was still trying to figure out, I wasn’t ready for…” she started to panic again but Yang interrupted before she could spiral too far.

“Ru-by! Hey, It’s ok. That’s what first dates are for beside come on, I mean you two are like the perfect couple everybody thinks so! Well ok maybe not perfect but you’d be really cute together trust me.”

“Yeah” Ruby started nervously but she gained confidence as she continued “Yeah ok!”

“Great! Now we can talk about what you’re going to wear!” Yang cheered back excitedly dragging Ruby by the hood toward their room as Ruby protested in an entirely different chorus of no’s.

Weiss sat at one of the small tables which filled the Coffee Pun and reminded herself not to be nervous. After all, there was no reason to be nervous, she thought, I’ve shared coffee with Ruby hundreds of times. I’ve spent more time with that little dolt than anyone else in my life. Heck, I may have spent more time with her then everyone else in my life. Well ok, probably not everyone and at least half the time we’re together we couldn’t avoid each other even if we wanted to. Plus, counting the hours we’re both asleep in our own respective beds, even if it is in the same dorm, as time spent together is probably unfair. If we were in the same bed that might be a different story, Weiss blushed slightly at her own thoughts, but that’s still a long ways off, she added quickly to herself, the point is we’ve done stuff like this lots of times and I enjoy those times and there’s no reason this should be any different. Well, except that the whole point of today is that we do spend so much time together and I do enjoy it and it’s supposed to make things different. I wonder if that dunce even knows, as nervous as I felt she barely missed a beat when I asked her here just gave that giant adorable smile she gives and said “Sure!” ugh but that lame excuse I gave “I heard about this coffee shop that’s supposedly really good, I’ve been meaning to try it out and was wondering if you’d like to go with me just you know the two of us” I mean it wasn’t a totally made up excuse Velvet did say she liked this place and I have been meaning to come try it out but come on even Ruby has to have realized what I meant. I should have just come out and said it “Ruby do you want to go out on a date with me?” how hard is that! I’m Weiss Schnee heiress to the SDC and I can’t ask a girl out properly!? Ok, ok calm down this is fine there’s no reason to be nervous Ruby will be here any minute and…

Just that moment Ruby walked into the small building and any effort on Weiss’ part to remain calm or act normal flew right out the window. She had intentionally selected a table near the door so she could keep an eye on the entrance and quickly greet Ruby when she arrived. She stood and took the handful of steps over to Ruby giving a nervous “Hi, Ruby” and offering an awkward handshake in a gesture she immediately regretted making.

“uh heh hiya Weiss” Ruby answered equally nervously, accepting the awkward handshake with no more grace then it was offered with.

“I umm got us this table, if that works for you?” Weiss said quickly, trying to move past the awkward exchange.

“It’ll be great” Ruby replied with an only slightly forced smile and followed Weiss to the table. Each briefly occupied themselves with taking their seats, taking extra care to ensure the weapons each still wore sat correctly, as a means of buying a few extra seconds to gather their thoughts.

Finally, each settled into their chairs and looked up at each other. Silence hovered for a moment as each took in the other’s appearance and tried to find the next words to say. Eventually, Weiss tilted her head with an amused expression asking with a slight chuckle “Ruby, are you wearing make up?” Ruby never wore make up in fact she tended to show disdain for anything which was, as she liked to put it, “a fancy waste of time”. Weiss had taken time to ensure she looked good for her date, but it was also just a coffee shop and she didn’t exactly dress like a slob regularly so there was nothing special about her appearance today. She hadn’t expected Ruby to do anything special either and as far as Ruby’s outfit went, she hadn’t changed anything which only made the make up even more amusing to Weiss.

“Yeah” Ruby answered turning red “I mean a little, Yang made me! She was giving me tips on how I should dress all afternoon!” she added rolling her eyes “finally, I told her I wasn’t dressing up to go to a coffee house which she agreed to but only if I let her do my make up.”

Weiss laughed lightly and responded coyly “Oh and why was she so worried about how you looked?”

Ruby froze realizing she had backed herself into a corner she wanted to throw her hood over her head and hide but she forced herself to answer “Well umm,” she started nervously trying to think of some excuse but none came to mind so instead she answered honestly “because this is a date right? I mean that’s what Yang thought and uhh kinda what I think too.”

Weiss’ heart skipped a beat as Ruby actually said the words. It was silly really this was a date. It’s what Weiss had always intended it to be. It’s what she wanted it to be or at least she was pretty sure it’s what she wanted it to be. It was all theoretical until this very moment though, a set of plans she could brush away as just friends if she decided to but now it was there in the open there was no pretending it was anything else and no going back. Yet, surprisingly her terror lasted only as long as that missed heartbeat and she smiled back at Ruby with a confidence she hadn’t felt until just now “Yes, Ruby it’s a date.” She said “I’ll be honest I was as nervous about admitting that’s really what this was as you just were but hearing you say it just now. I’m really happy to be on a date with you.”

Ruby looked embarrassed still, but she smiled and the “me too” she squeaked back was an odd mixture of embarrassment and excitement. They shared a cheesy moment of smiling brightly at each other during which Ruby relaxed back to almost normal levels before asking “so… what now?”

“now we order our coffees you goof” Weiss answered

“Right!” Ruby smiled “I won’t say no to that!”

#rwby #white rose week #white rose #whiterose #weiss schnee #ruby rose #coffee #first date #yang xiao long #rwby white rose #rwby whiterose #wrw 2019 #day 1: first/coffee

[wordsbysra]

page turner

*** hey! this is a project i did at college this semester! the prompt was to present on something that gave our lives meaning, so i wrote a letter to my dad. plus i’ve been itching to post, but i’ve been too busy to write something new... thanks for letting me be both corny and vulnerable :) sra ***

When given this project, I was torn on what gives my life meaning. There’s plenty of things that fill me up with joy. Music has always been healing to me, but you can hardly classify dubstep and techno as therapeutic. I really like Trader Joe’s but eating your weight in cookie butter has its consequences. Makeup has always been an amazing way to express myself, but I understand it’s hard for people to believe I can do some sharp ass winged eyeliner, considering I look like I’ve been forgetting to wash my hair for the last four years. Even amongst all these things that make my life sweeter, nothing compares to my family. My dad, in particular. My dad taught me the value of education. He spent weeks on my elementary school science fair projects, tutored half of my high school statistics class over Skype, and even made me a list of 100 books to read before I graduate college. I just started #38 “Ham on Rye” by Charles Bukowski last night, but we’ve got a long way to go. He introduced me to literature, one of my greatest passions. Obsessed with crafting lavish stories that will keep you perched so far on the edge of your seat that you’ll forget to breathe, my dad is the brightest mind I’ve ever known. His consistent encouragement helped me overcome the anxieties and doubt that clouded my potential. Not only did I want to share with the class how my dad brought purpose into my life, but I wanted him to hear it too. Or read it… I wrote this sappy letter, but when I need them most, words fail.

Hey Dad,

           It’s strange to think that I’m over halfway done with my collegiate experience, when it feels like just yesterday, you were still helping me with my times tables. For the first time in a long time, I am excited about learning. I am engaged in my classes (after 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep), I look forward to doing homework, and I feel like I might actually have a shot at doing something great when I’m out of here. For months, I panicked about what I was going to study. The devil on my shoulder told me English was a waste of a degree (it’s not). The devil on my other shoulder told me I wasn’t creative or bold or funny enough to ever tell a good story. But you, my middle-aged angel, encouraged me to follow my instincts and tell my story. I’ll never forget when you told me, “It’s the only story you get, so make it a page turner.”

           It started in my bedroom when I was maybe four years old. I couldn’t seem to sleep with my closet door wide open and you found yourself sitting at the edge of my bed while I spoke incoherently about the monster that was watching me from behind my shirts and dresses. This was when the joy of story-telling was brought into my life, as you configured a story about the monster. You told me that the monster was scared, just like me, and every time I couldn’t sleep, neither could he. In hindsight, this was probably the biggest parenting cop-out ever, but it cured my nightmares. However, you still found yourself at the foot of my bed nearly every night after since I wanted to know more about the closet monster. What was his name? How old was he? Did he have a little brother like I did? You had me immersed in a world that didn’t truly exist, something that only a true storyteller could do. I was an intuitive little girl, so I knew your stories couldn’t possibly be real, but sooner or later, your stories became ours.

           The first true book I ever read cover to cover was “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone”. I sat in the cramped backseat with Alex as our overstuffed car inched forward in traffic towards the annual family reunion in quaint Idaho. I don’t know why we always had to reunite with Mom’s redneck survivalist side of the family, but you have very little say in family matters when you’re six years old. Between heaving fistfuls of Cheez-Its and those waxy fruit snacks that Mom always tried to pass off as real Gushers, I sat with a book gripped in my hands, its pages overflowing in my tiny lap. Every few minutes or so, a timid, “Dad, what does this word mean?” would escape from the backseat and be met with a simple definition, an example sentence, and so on and so forth. A grueling nine hour drive later and I had finished my first chapter book; I couldn’t stop gushing about how awesome Hermione was “because she’s smarter and tougher than all the boys”. The constant support I received to keep on reading led me to discover characters that inspired me. I found a sense of identity through intelligent young girls who stood firm in the face of danger. When it was time for us to begin the journey back to home sweet home Nevada, you surprised me with the second book of my new favorite series. I read out loud to the whole car for hours until my eyes got heavy and I fell asleep with another story whirling around my head.

           Unfortunately, the older I became, the less I enjoyed reading. High school started to hinder my imagination and I was eventually diminished into just another statistic for the school district. It became less about telling a story and more about being able to analyze a story and condense my thoughts into a well-written, well-structured essay worth half of my grade. MLA style or bust! Reading books with you definitely wasn’t cool anymore (sorry) and we drifted apart. When I was seventeen, you were admitted into the hospital for a severe complication from one of several surgeries. Even with a bleak chance of survival looming over our heads, you still managed to give me a new story every time we came to visit, be it about a nurse you liked or a dumb commercial you had seen on television. Seeing someone so strong become so vulnerable really broke a part of me, but I ultimately became more appreciative of all the great experiences you had given me. I would run to the library before each visit, frantically searching the shelves for whatever request you had scrawled on a sticky note during my previous visit. Sitting by your side for hours, finishing off the pudding cup stash you were saving for me, each of us with a different book in our hands, pages turning every few moments. Even on your worst days, your sickest days, your weakest days, the powerful stories we read side by side outshined every moment of suffering. It was this point in my life that I realized the power of a really good book, and in an instant, my love for literature was reignited.

           You made me realize that there is so little time to spend focusing on minute details and irrelevant characters. The only plot I should be worrying about is my own, since I am my own story, all by myself. I will always look back fondly on our weekly Saturday dates to the public library, and getting lost at the bookstore amongst the towering walls of bindings and pages, and staying up all night to finish a novel so you’d take me to the movie premiere, but I can’t wait to make the same memories with children of my own one day. Your love of books helped morph me into the most inquisitive version of myself, always eager to pick up something new to read, but always reminiscent of the texts I cherished when I was younger. “The Poisonwood Bible” (which was the first book I had recommended to you) has a quote that often makes me think of you: “I attempted briefly to consecrate myself in the public library, believing every crack in my soul could be chinked with a book.” You helped me discover parts of me that I didn’t know were there and encouraged me to be proud of all my cracks and dents. Don’t worry, I’ll make you sound totally awesome in my memoir one day. Thank you for introducing me to the whimsical worlds hidden between dusty pages and 12-point font. You helped excavate the purpose that had been buried inside of me all along. I am eternally grateful to be your daughter and I’m excited to see what crazy stories lie ahead for us. How’s this for a page turner?

P.S. I spent that $50 you gave me over Thanksgiving break at Barnes and Noble. I’ll let you borrow the books I picked up. Please send more money.

#writing #my writing #quotes

[fierce-little-miana]

Birthday!

And this is for the best birthday boy of Saichifest 2019! Careful SSL AU incoming.

 Hajime was filled by a feeling of dread. If he was perfectly honest it was rather a deeply rooted unease, but considering it has been with him since this morning he was starting to seriously worry.

 Everything had started in front of the school gates. While Nagumo was supposed to be the one monitoring the coming students he was not allowed to do so today. Not after his last fall dow with Souji. It was as if Nagumo was looking for confrontations with him. Confrontations he couldn’t win if he continued leading them like that. But this wasn’t Hajime’s role to tell him that. Only experience would bring Nagumo to calmer and quieter shores, and only if he was ready to listen to it. He wasn’t. That meant that Hajime had volunteered to take on his duty to make sure that all the students came to class with appropriate clothes and behavior.  

 It was when he was calmly asking a first year to turn off his phone that he had noticed Yukimura. She had come to him to say hello with her sweet smile and big kind eyes, only to be snatched back by Souji. He might have been as surprised as Chizuru considering the startled expression on her face. But when she had noticed it was Souji her expression had changed for a slight worry. Souji had murmured something in her ear, she had looked quickly back at him and then at her shoes with a slight blush on her cheeks. Souji had smirked and then nearly dragged her behind him inside the school. Seeing them interact like that had made something tighten in Hajime’s chest. He had no right of course. Yukimura was a nice girl and it was only natural that she got along with plenty of other students, not just with him. However this whole interaction was strange. Souji had seemingly wanted to avoid him for no apparent good reason and made sure Yukimura did too.  

 Still he had to refocus on the task at hand. The first year was gone, and Hajime didn’t even have the time to tell Souji to tie his tie correctly before him and Yukimura had disappeared from his view. Between his failure and Souji’s odd behavior, the day was going to be more complicated than planned.  

 After the third hour of class he knew something was wrong. Souji kept on avoiding him, not that he particularly sought him out but being suddenly deprived of his friend’s presence was unusual. Souji usually always found a reason to come and have a chat with him. What could have just been one of Souji’s numerous and usual fads had been confirmed as something deeply out of the ordinary by Yukimura and Heisuke’s behavior. When noticing him in front of her in a corridor Yukimura had brutally changed her way. So brutally in fact that she had ended up bumping into an half opened door. When he had tried to reach for her to check if she was okay she had nearly ran away from him without saying a word. He had came across Heisuke in one of the supply-rooms. He had came to retrieve a map for his fourth hour geography class. He didn’t know what Heisuke was doing there considering that the only words he had said to him were “Oh! Saito! Sorry for being in the way!” before jolting for the exit of the room in way reminiscent of Yukimura’s escape without any unfortunate encounter with a door. 

 No, something was wrong and it could only be linked to the day. He didn’t really expect that anyone would make a fuss about it. His brother was enjoying his end of year vacations in Hokkaido, his last one before graduating from college. His mother had joined his father in Singapour to enjoy the new lunar year there and wouldn’t be back before the end of the month. Finally his sister was way to busy preparing her future life as a wife with her in-laws, she hadn’t set a foot in the family home for at least two months. Yes Hajime fully expected being alone for his birthday today. It wasn’t a new occurrence. He will probably go to the restaurant with his mother and siblings when they would be available but that would be all. Except apparently it wasn’t. Something was going to happen. And having Souji apparently leading the all thing was absolutely nerve-racking. Didn’t he try to light a bonfire in the stadium when they were in middle school? Would Hajime need to explain things to a furious Hijikata-sensei once again? 

“ - Whatever this is, you’d better not have dragged Yukimura in anything reprehensible, he finally said to Souji while running into him.” 

 He was coming back from making his excuse to Hijikata and Kondo for not coming to the kendo practice today, he had a meeting with the disciplinary board. Souji simply smiled at that, a smile with more teeth than niceness in it. Did he thought he was subtle? He left him without saying a word. Hajime could only notice that he wasn’t heading for the kendo dojo either. This was going to be a disaster of epic proportion.

 The final and strangest moment of the day came during the disciplinary board meeting. Nagumo was arguing for a re-enforcement of the rules for the field trip that, while not being totally incoherent, were way too obviously personally targeted against a certain someone to make anyone in the room comfortable. The two first years that had joined them looked like they wanted to disappear. Hajime was about to intervene when the door open:

“ - Oh no, it has already started... commented Yukimura who seemed really worried she was bothering them. I am really sorry Saito-kun but could I ask Kaoru to come with me just this time?”

 Well this was a first. So much in fact that the entire room went completely silent for a few seconds. Not only did Yukimura never interrupt any meetings without giving and having an excellent reason to do so but her relationship with her long estranged brother was complicated and she always avoided seeking him out when he was busy for fear of putting him on edge.

 Nagumo was actually about to answer something and every signs pointed to it not being very nice before Yukimura started again:

“ - Please Kaoru.”

 That seemed to touch Nagumo somehow. Hajime wanted to sigh. Everything would be so much easier if he accepted that he wanted to be liked by people and that they weren’t out to get him. But of course it would take several years for him to get there. Nagumo turned toward him and Hajime nodded before adding:

“ - Go with her, we can finish this on our own.

- Thank you Saito-kun, answered Yukimura with a smile which lightened the room.”

 The twins left but so did part of the tension that had been with Hajime for the entire day. Maybe things would turn out just fine. 

 At the end of the meeting Hajime was intercepted by Hijikata-sensei. He needed to speak to him and asked him to follow him to the teachers’ room. Hajime did follow him. What could have happened that necessitated a meeting right now and couldn’t be discussed in a corridor? Hijikata-sensei was especially tense too. This must be something of the scale of the attempted bonfire that had burned half of the football field grass. 

 They finally arrived in front of the teacher’s room and Hijikata-sensei gestured for him to enter. Hajime did and the minute he stepped into the room he was welcomed by a powerful:

“ - Happy Birthday!”

 There was no fire in the room far from it. The tables had been rearranged to create an inviting space with sparkling drinks and sweets. Around it some paper decorations, usually used for schools events, had been hung. Finally a cake with a white frosting, strawberry decoration and eighteen candles was in front of him. 

 Souji, Yukimura, Heisuke, Nagumo and some other member of the kendo club were here. But Nagakura-sensei, Harada-sensei, Sannan-sensei, and Kondo-sensei were also present. And they were all smiling. So was Hijikata-sensei in his back.

 Everything looked pretty sensible, as if the person planning the surprise had really taken him in consideration rather than using the occasion to cause the biggest mess possible. He was glad Souji had brought Yukimura into this because he could see her hand on everything. It had been a long time since anyone at taken care of his birthday like that and Hajime found out he was deeply grateful. 

 Hijikata-sensei finally pushed him toward the cake. He hadn’t even notice he had gone very still. On closer examination it was obvious the cake was homemade. There had apparently been an attempt to write something on it but it had been covered by frosting. It made him smile:

“ - Sorry I wanted to make a cake in the shape of a snow bunny but something happened to the frosting and I had to change my plan at the last minute, said Yukimura while coming closer to him.”

He felt a blush raising to his cheeks but the attention was thankfully taken away from him by Souji who declared:

“ - This was a weird idea anyway. I think this cake looks better.

- You don’t know that! answered Heisuke. If you hadn’t accidentally spilled half of the sugar bag in the frosting we might have had a chance to see what it could have look like.”

 Heisuke was saved from a quick and deadly elbow stroke by a comment from Nagumo:

“ - Accidentally? Sure it was accidental.

- Oh you don’t want to go down this road Koaru-chan.”

 Hajime could almost hear Hijikata-sensei rolling his eyes behind him. He looked at Souji and said:

“ - Souji, no.”

 Several emotions passed on Souji’s face. Every single one a testament to his difficulty to let his prey go but eventually it fixed on a smile, with less teeth this time. 

“ - Go ahead Hajime-kun, blow your candles.”

And he did. 

 While the cake was being cut, Yukimura, who like him already had a piece, came to talk to him.

“ - Is there something you would have liked for your birthday? 

- You already baked the cake, didn’t you?

- Yes I did, but Kaoru helped me, especially to remake the frosting with less than half ingredients left. Heisuke-kun and Okita-kun were a bit panicking, even if Okita-kun will not admit it.

- You cooked with Heisuke-kun and Souji in the same room as you? You are braver than every single one of us.”

 She smiled at him, a smile so genuine that his heart might have missed a beat. He wasn’t completely sure of this. She was going back toward the table but he called her back. She turned toward him. This was going to ask more courage of him than dealing with any out of control bonfire would had ever asked.

“ - You asked me if I wanted something else?

- Yes, you thought about something?”

Hajime took a deep breath:

“ - Would you consider calling me by my first name?”

 She looked at him with widened eyes and her entire face went completely pink. This had been a terrible idea. He wished he hadn’t said anything. While he was looking for an exit, there was none of course but he so wished there was one, she came close to him. She had her eyes fixed on the floor but her hand come grabbing the bottom of his sweater:

“ - Hajime-kun?”

 This time his heart skipped a beat and he was sure of it. He also felt his cheeks burning up. But what entrapped him to the moment was the fact that she lift her eyes to meet his:

“ - Would you then call me Chizuru, Sait... Hajime-kun?

- Chizuru.”

 It came out before he had realized it. She went pinker, if that was even possible. His hands come to rest on hers.

 Suddenly he remembered where they were. They might have been a bit apart from the others but he now noticed that Souji was watching them with interest. At least it was only him, even if Yuki... Chizuru would probably disagree with this.

 He was about to step back from her, maybe grab a drink to regain some sort of composure, when the fire alarm went off. The smoke of the candles of course. It didn’t take long for the ceiling water sprinklers to starts pouring water on the room. They were all positively wet in a matter of seconds. Hijikata-sensei swore loudly and Souji bursted out laughing. 

 But for once, by Chizuru’s side, invisible to the rest of the room in front of the literally pouring mess, he was glad things went off.

#saichifest 2019 #saichifest2019 #saito hajime #yukimura chizuru #saichi #yes I find a way to put kaoru in there #you can't stop me #also look at my boy #he is doing his best

[bakugous-abs]

Could I get a scenario where a 1-A student, who was formerly raised by a villain, was triggered by a simple pat on the shoulder and almost hurts their classmate during a training exercise. They run off, ashamed, only to be confronted by All Might and Aizawa (separately, but if it’s too much, preferably All Might) who’s aware of their past and they ask him if “someone like them” could be a hero too?

Lyssa here! Sorry for taking forever, but this was a really fun request, I hope my terrible writing didn’t ruin it! I tried to make it sorta fluffy towards the end

. ~ Admin Lyssa. 

No one dared to mess with them, specifically because of their tragic backstory, they were raised by villains who tortured their parents, but they acted so calm and rational. I

t was a strange sight to see, but they always greeted with kind smiles and friendly waves, appearing perfectly fine, how could someone raises in such horrible states grow up to be perfectly fine, that was Kaminari’s one question, he thought about it day to day, and sometimes even watched them from afar, waiting to see their next move, some may call it stalking. 

The next day was a training day, which excited the whole class, except (Y/N), who mumbled incoherent words beside Kaminari, to which he watched in awe. 

They all entered the training room, Aizawa decided on practice battling. 

But once he began naming the groups the blood drained from his joyous face, he was facing against (Y/N), he had never fought them, just watched, everyone watched when they fought, their quirk was something from the ordinary, but they had always been against Bakugou and Izuku, who seemed to be the only that couldn’t be killed or seriously injured from their quirk. 

(Y/N)’s quirk was a power up quirk of sort, when activating their quirk, their body would have a purple luminous glow, and their mental and physical stature would be enhanced to great extents. 

“(Y/N) (L/N) and Denki Kaminari, you’re next.” Kaminari’s insides charred at the thought of going against someone with seemingly god-like powers. 

He struggled to contain his panic as he watched the next match, but all he could imagine was the fight, and pain. 

“Next match!” 

He stood in the ring, (Y/N) waited patiently with a dull look on their face, which made his worry increase just looking at them.In a matter of seconds, Kaminari was already on the ground, an overpowered (Y/N) pushing him to the ground, he was unable to escape, he felt trapped, he couldn’t lose so soon. 

“(Y/N) wins the match.” Aizawa called in his usually dull tone, (Y/N) backed away, their friendly smile returning. 

Just as they walked away, into the halls, Kaminari stood in defeat, kicking the rumble from the torn ring, as her quirk destroyed parts of it. 

They both walked to the locker rooms together, (Y/N) said nothing and neither did Kaminari, but something inside of him screamed out, he wanted a rematch, he had to have one. 

He placed a hand on (Y/N), beginning to demand a rematch, but his plans flew just like he did, (Y/N) activated their quirk seconds later, pushing Kaminari off of them, he flung back into a wall, ultimately crushing himself into a wall, a cloud of dust surround him, and (Y/N) couldn’t see any signs of movement. 

Immediately, the entire class scattered back to see what had unfolded, only one person managed to muster a word. 

“Idiot.” Bakugo snickered as he saw Kaminari’s injured form. 

(Y/N) fled from the scene, too ashamed to face the crowd, tears sprung their frightened eyes. 

She ran so far, she ran into teachers, soon running into All Might, who caught their arm gently before they could run anymore. 

“Why in such a hurry?” he asked, even though he knew very well why, as everyone was talking about it, (Y/N) took time to regain composure, but failed. 

“I’m going to get expelled, I didn’t mean it! Is he okay?” they frantically spoke, making All Might let out a hushed chuckle. 

“He’s quite all right, Recovery Girl treated him immediately, and no expulsion is needed, as you didn’t mean it.” he reassured the teen, who let out a sigh of relief, but quickly tightened again. 

“Can I see him? I just want to check on him.” they asked, to which All Might nodded. 

The short walk to the infirmary was spent in uncomfortable silence, leaving (Y/N) to their thoughts.

“All Might?” they spoke, making sure their voice didn’t crack in the process. 

“Yes, Young (Y/N)?.” he responded. “Do you think someone like me, c-could be a hero?” they were close to breaking down, seeming to know the answer was no. 

“Of course,” the words surprised them, (Y/N)’s eyes widened and darted to All Might as they walked, his face calm and collected. 

“You think you’re different, which is true, everyone is, but you if you truly want to use your powers for good, who’s going to stop you?” the words brought him back to Izuku Midoriya, he had doubted the boy, but with a good heart, anyone could be a hero. 

(Y/N) remained silent through the rest of walk, reflecting on All Might’s heartfelt words. 

“We’re here.” they broke from their thoughts to visit Kaminari, who lay asleep on the hospital bed, (Y/N) flinched just at the sight of him. 

‘I caused that.’ 

Those exact words ran through their head over and over, but Kaminari woke up to free them. 

“Hey.” he smiled, his wobbly and dorky smile returned to normal, (Y/N) smiled. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” (Y/N) spoke, their voice softening to almost a whisper. 

“It’s cool, but I can’t believe you went so easy on me in the match! That power you showed near the locker rooms was incredible!” the boy spoke in awe, making the other teen blush. 

“We have to have a rematch.” Kaminari finally demanded, but (Y/N) already began to disagree, only to be interrupted. 

“I know what you’re going to say, but I promise you won’t hurt me, you just caught me off guard, I can totally beat you.” 

Those words finally brought (Y/N) to accept. 

“Deal.”

#boku no hero #boku no hero academia #my academia #my hero #my hero academia #bnh #bnha #mha #bakugou #izuku #todoroki #kaminari #kirishima #kaminari x reader #kaminari denki #kaminari denki x reader #denki #denki x reader #x reader #x reader insert #request #mha x reader #bnha x reader #boku no hero x reader #my hero academia x reader

[preserving-ferretbrain]

Red Seas Under Red Skies

by Wardog

Friday, 01 February 2008

Wardog praises with faint damnation~

I was nosing about Scott Lynch's LJ (which is endearingly titled The Dork Lord, on His Dork Throne) not so long ago and I came across this:

I was not a fan of the Wheel of Time books, probably because I came to them in my twenties with my tastes already fairly developed. I was never able to get past the opening of the second book, and those of you who've known me for ages I'm sure absorbed my criticism and invective years ago. I once wrote at excruciating length upon the weaknesses of the books as I perceived them, and while I thought it was extremely clever and somehow necessary at the time, the years since have drastically mellowed my taste for mocking the work of other authors who aren't huge assholes in person or pushing a distasteful agenda with their work. About the best I can say for my mosquito bites is that I sincerely hope Jordan himself never had them called to his attention. Something tells me he would have given them the eye roll they deserved.

And the sheer decency of it has sort of shamed me to such an extent (especially since I am a non-achiever who hangs about on the internet criticising other people's work) that I can hardly bring myself to review Red Seas Under Red Skies, especially since my attempt to write about The Lies of Locke Lamora degenerated into a (semi-harmless) mock-fest of Scott Lynch's hair. By the way the important word in that sentence was "hardly." With this mind and all due humility, here are some thoughts on Red Thingies Over/Under Red Other Thingies, which I shall hereafter refer to as RSURS for the sake of my sanity. It's the second book in the Gentleman Bastard sequence which will, I understand, eventually form a septet. I have to say, this idea distresses me. Not only has Harry Potter soured me on the number seven for life but, given the fact the fantasy genre generally can't cope with trilogies, the idea of a septet seems utterly ludicrous to me. I mean, what do you have to say that takes seven books? Seriously?

For the moment, however, Scott Lynch seems to have something to say. Ultimately there's no point in reading RSURS if you haven't read The Lies of Locke Lamora not because it doesn't almost stand alone but because familiarity with the background, the setting and the characters deepens the experience of reading. To give it due credit: RSURS is reasonably satisfying on its own terms. You can feel the slow gathering of plot upon the horizon like distant clouds (and fear the coming storm) and there are some massive danglers just left hanging in a deliberately taunting and irritating fashion but, hey, thems the breaks with this kind of thing. And, as in Lies, the mysterious Sabetha, the apparent love of Locke's life, is alluded to but remains absent: for fuck's sake, Lynch, stop it. You know she's just going to be a total let down after a build up like this.

The problems evident in Lies are evident in RSURS, only slightly moreso because you don't have the novelty factor of being a first book to distract you from them. If you didn't like Locke the first time round, you won't like him here because he's exactly the same and still, some might argue, something of a Mary Sue or the male equivalent thereof. Although I don't personally object to the love affair Scott Lynch is tenderly enacting with his (anti)hero, I do struggle somewhat with the character. As I think I said in my review of Lies, he's absolutely the nicest bastard you could ever hope to meet: he never harms or kills anybody who doesn't thoroughly deserve it, his supposedly long-dead conscience miraculously reappears whenever he's confronted by any sort of cruelty or injustice and his unswerving and self-sacrificing loyalty to his friends is a virtue of such magnitude that it eclipses everything remotely unsympathetic about him. It shouldn't, but that's the way fiction works: if your character cares about the same people as the reader, it doesn't really matter how that character behaves, they're always going to garner a degree of support and approval.

I wouldn't mind this so much if I didn't have the feeling that Locke is supposed to be a shady character for a dark world. Perhaps I have the wrong end of the stick and Locke was never meant to be anything but a big bleeding heart beneath a thin veneer of survivalist criminality but I don't think so. I think the problem with Locke Lamora is that he's neither enough of one thing nor its opposite: he's neither selfish enough to be a convincing anti-hero nor virtuous enough to be a convincing hero. I know part of his shtick is his shifting sense of self and I'm not averse to complicated, contradictory characters but I find Locke incoherent rather than complex. I'm genuinely uncertain as to what Lynch is trying to do with the character or what we're meant to think. I'm not saying he doesn't do terrible things - he mutilates someone (who, admittedly, deserves it) in the first book - but everything he does that's vile and shocking is excusable whereas everything he does that's compassionate is extraordinary. For example, in RSURS, he and Jean, hanging out a decadent casino called the Sinspire, witness an entertainment in which a young nobleman, unable to pay his debts, has to survive in cage of stiletto wasps. Needless to say he doesn't and Locke secretly makes a blessing over the young man's forgotten corpse:

"Crooked Warden," Locke muttered under his breath, speaking quickly, "a glass poured on the ground for a stranger without friends. Lord of gallants and fools, ease this man's passage to the Lady of the Long Silence. This was a hell of a way to die. Do this for me and I'll try not to ask for anything for a while. I really do mean that this time."

There is no reason for this scene to be in the book (not that it isn't cool) - there are plenty examples of the upper classes being cruel and bloodthirsty to make the point and if the stiletto wasps are at all relevant beyond providing atmosphere they're certainly not to this book. In fact, its only purpose is to remind us that Locke Lamora is great and to show him, thief and conman that he is, being humane in the face of the world's inhumanity.

Unlike some of the reviews I've read, I've never had a problem with the snappy, modern dialogue and the very modern obscenity. In fact, I genuinely relish it. Unfortunately, it was during RSURS that I realised something that had passed me by in the first book: it's the only kind of dialogue Lynch can write. Everyone sounds the same. Pirates, noblemen, thieves, priests Locke, Jean: they're interchangeable. Witty but interchangeable.

"And now, my dear professional pessimist," said Locke... "my worry merchant, my tireless font of doubt and derision ... what do you have to say to that? "Oh very little to be sure... it's so hard to think, overawed as I am with the sublime genius of your plan." "That bears some resemblance to sarcasm." "Gods, forefend," said Jean. "You wound me! Your inexpressible criminal virtues have triumphed again, as inevitably as the tides comes and go. I cast myself at your feet and beg for absolution. Yours is the genius that nourishes the heart of the world." "And now you're-" "If only there was a leper handy," interrupted Jean, "so you could lay your hands on him and magically heal him-" "Oh you're just farting out of your mouth because you're jealous."

And so on. And here we have Jean talking to his ladylove:

"Have you really been practicing on barrels Jerome?" "Barrels. Yes. They never laugh, they never ridicule you and they offer no distractions." "Distractions?" "Barrels don't have breasts." "Ah. So what have you been telling these barrels?" "This bottle of brandy," said Jean, "is still too full for me to begin embarrassing myself like that." "Pretend I'm a barrel then." "Barrels don't have br-" "So I've heard. Find the nerve, Valora." "You want me to pretend that you're a barrel, so I can tell you what I was telling barrels back when I was pretending they were you." "Precisely." "Well ... you have ... you have such hoops as I have never seen in any cask on any ship, such shiny and well-fit hoops-" "Jerome-" "And your staves! Your staves ... so well planned, so tightly fit. You are as fine a cask as I ever seen, you marvellous little barrel. To say nothing of your bung-."

See what I mean?

I think in my review of Lies I commented on the deftness and subtlety of the world building - well, in RSURS, the action has moved from a city made of elderglass to a city consisting of islands made of elderglass. Astonishing. And sadly the delicacy of touch seems to have been replaced by the typical fantasy fiction obsession with geographic detail. It's nowhere near Perdido Street Stationbut, as much as I enjoy Lynch's world, there's a bit too much of this sort of thing:

Tal Verrar, the Rose of the Gods, at the westernmost edge of what the Therin people call the civilised world. If you could stand in thin air a thousand yards above Tal Verrar's tallest towers, or float in lazy circles there like the nations of gulls that infest the city's crevices and rooftops, you would see how its vast, dark islands have given this place its ancient nickname. They whirl outward from the city's heart, a series of crescents steadily increasing in size, like the stylised petals of a rose in an artist's mosaic.

And so on for two or more pages at a time. A bit like this review really.

Also it has to be said, the plot makes no sense whatsoever. It attempts to follow the embedded narrative format of the first book but it feels strained: Lynch occasionally plays with chronology, explaining how events came about after they occur, and offers a few reminiscences but it's noticeably a device now, rather than the most natural vehicle to tell the story. And, like the first book, it begins with Locke and Jean mid-heist only to drag them - reluctant and swearing as ever - into much bigger events, allowing the plot to twist, turn, double back on itself and eventually come full circle in a strangely satisfying manner. Except this time, it turns out that the Archon of Tal Verrar wants them to become ... wait for it ... pirates. Yes. Pirates. Two conmen from the streets of Camorr. Pirates. Now, I know that pirates are just inherently cool and you can't go wrong with them but still, come on. What's next? Locke Lamora and some ninjas? Locke Lamora and zombies? I don't know whether to respect the sheer brass bollocks ludicrousness of it or complain bitterly because it has to be the most spurious excuse for a plot I've ever encountered. And the fact that even main characters complain about the stupidity doesn't actually counteract that stupidity:

"Send us out to sea to find an excuse for you, that's what you said," said Locke. "Send us out to sea. Has your brain swelled against the inside of skull? How the screaming fucking hell do you expect the two of us to raise a bloody pirate armada in a place we've never been and convince it to come merrily die at the hands of the navy that bent it over the table and fucked it in the arse last time."

This is Lynch's latest technique, by the way, one I think he might have borrowed from JK Rowling. He seems have developed a tendency to address the inevitable plot holes of his novels by having his characters draw attention to it. To be honest,

fridge logic

doesn't bother me - I don't care how Buffy the Vampire slayer pays the mortgage on her dead mother's house or how Sydney Bristow circles the globe in half an episode - but attempting to pass it off as anything other than what it is offends me. Having the Archon blackmail Locke and Jean into mustering a pirate armada for political reasons is little more than a blatant excuse for the author to have them messing about with pirates, which is in itself fair enough. However, having Locke and Jean constantly bitching about the insanity of the plan even as they enact it only serves to induce bouts of fridge logic before you're even anywhere near the fridge. It also leads to odd little moments like this:

"Why not?" [said Jean] "Why not? We carry your precious misery with us like a holy fucking relic. Don't talk about Sabetha Belacoros. Don't talk about the plays. Don't talk about Jasmer or Espara or any of the schemes we ran. I lived with her for nine years, same as you, and I've pretended she doesn't fucking exist to avoid upsetting you. Well I'm not you. I'm not content to live like an oath-bond monk. I have a life outside your gods-damned shadow."

Err...actually Jean, you're a sidekick. Haven't you noticed? You actually do not have a life outside Locke Lamora's gods-damned shadow. The more Lynch tries to demonstrate to the reader that Jean is a person in his own right the less convincing it becomes. All it does is illustrate the fact that whatever Jean does on his own account is completely meaningless because his only relevance is tied to his supporting role, a role to which he will always return. His short-lived relationship - although actually moderately engaging, while it lasts - is only further evidence of this. You can see its inevitably tragic conclusion approaching on the horizon like the sails of the good ship Obvious.

The other thing I'm feeling a little bit peeved is Lynch's reliance on a technique he seems to have ganked from Alias. Now, I'm not sure if it continues in the later seasons but the early episodes of Alias always end with a cliff-hanger. And at first I used to get tremendously caught up in them. Oh no, I'd cry, Sydney is hanging from a cliff with only her suspender belt between her and certain death. Oh no, Sydney's rival has locked her in the poison-gas filled vault. Oh no, Sydney is being held at gunpoint by the bad guys. And then I'd insist that we watched another episode to find out what was going to happen, only to be faintly disappointed when the desperate, deadly situation resolved itself harmlessly in about two minutes of screen time. RSURS opens with Locke and Jean caught at crossbow-point on the docks and then, gasp, ever-faithful Jean turns on Locke. The novel then spools backwards in time to show you how they got themselves into this mess and, yes, it's arresting except that it's basically just like Alias, a cliff-hanger critical on the surface but ultimately completely meaningless and wrapped up quicker than a streaker at a tennis match. A couple of similar situations happen over the course of the book and, despite the satisfactory resolution of the plot, there's one left right at the end. I suspect I'd be more interested/frustrated by this Tense and Terrible State Of Affairs if the experience of the rest of the novel hadn't led me to the conviction that it's merely there for affect.

Okay, so I've just written four pages of bitching about RSURS but the fact remains that, despite its flaws, despite everything in it that doesn't quite work for me, I still heartily enjoyed it and very nearly loved it. Pirates, for God's sake, pirates! It's not quite as taut as the first book but once Locke and Jean hit the high seas the pace really picks up and the book becomes wonderful fun, sweeping you along on sheer exuberance and panache. And, damn it all, that's good enough for me. Roll on book three.Themes:

Books

,

Sci-fi / Fantasy

~

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~Comments (

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Arthur B

at 01:09 on 2008-02-02It strikes me that the Gentleman Bastard series embodies a problem I have with lots of fantasy series, namely that one book is really enough. I've felt absolutely no urge to go and read RSURS, and most of the things you point out in the review cement that; sure, it seems to be more of the same, and that's well and good - at least it's not a serious decline. On the other hand, one

Lies of Locke Lamora

is enough for me - having read one book, I don't feel as though anything the other books say can really add anything. (I'm also utterly unconvinced that there's enough juice in the Gentleman Bastards concepts to fill 7 books. I mean, for goodness' sake, he's only on the second book in the series and already he's resorted to pirates.)

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empink

at 02:49 on 2008-02-02@ ArthurB: Forsooth, he *will* go to ninjas next.

You know, I had more faith in this guy. I thought he'd at least 'fess up about Sabetha whatshername, or tie the book back to the first one, or do something other than send Jean and Locke to cavort with pirates for no good reason. It made for fantastic cavorting and rather dull and simplistic reading, though-- I won't be buying any more sequels in hardback, or holding on to them out of guilt either.

Oh, and Kyra, the DIALOGUE. Everyone does sound the same, it's so boring. No one is allowed to be stupid, or say frightening things without twisting themselves into witty shapes and cursing fit to kill themselves. It was all right in the first book, but in RSURS, it starts to look like lack of imagination on Lynch's part.

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Arthur B

at 12:04 on 2008-02-02Yeah, I can think of several points in the first book where I had to start reading a conversation again from the beginning because I lost track of who was who. It's this really weird blind spot in Lynch's writing; he can, when he tries, differentiate between characters in terms of disposition, personality, and so forth, and you can tell that by looking at their actions. (To pick the most obvious example, Jean is far more inclined to charge headlong into a fight like a raging bull than Locke is.) But he's chronically incapable of differentiating them when they're speaking.

I can only assume that he finds dialogue difficult (and to be fair, dialogue

is

difficult), and is trying to compensate by finding a style of dialogue he's quite good at and applying it to everyone.

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Wardog

at 14:23 on 2008-02-04I'm glad the dialogue thing isn't only me ... it's the main problem I have with the series to be honest, despite all my trivial bitching above. After a while, it gets really wearing and the characters all start blurring into each other because I find that it's language rather than behaviour that distinguishes people in books - heh, she says, massively generalising.

I think I must be less bothered by "more of the same" than Arthur is - I genuinely enjoyed both books and I'll happily read more (although I've never splashed out a hardback of either, so the cost of my good will is significantly cheaper than Empink's!) as long as they stay on this kind of level (or get better!). I do find them a nice antidote to ponderous, serious fantasy. I genuinely dig the exuberance and the irreverence.

Also I've been poking about Scott Lynch's personal sites and he seems like a pretty decent, charmingly humble guy...

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Cheriola

at 16:16 on 2014-07-26You know, oddly most of the things you mention didn't bother me at all. Except the utter pointlessness of the opening cliffhanger.

The only thing I did have a problem with is the way Jean shames Locke out of his depression, and Locke keeps apologising for "letting Jean down" in those few weeks for literally the next two years. I mean, in this book, it still reads like he's just mourning/recuperating a little too self-indulgently and maybe like he has a really short bout of alcoholism - but since the next book starts pretty much the same (except Locke has even more good reason to be depressed), and Jean then actually makes a reference to some kind of mental disorder (more something like Freud's innate death wish than depression, but still), it becomes problematic in hindsight. Especially since, either intentionally or not, Locke pretty much reads like a textbook case for bipolar disorder (spending most of each book in a manic phase), if you read all 3 books right after another. So for largely-neurotypical Jean to go "If I can handle our losses, why can't you?" and being sucessful at shaming/angering Locke out of suicidal depressive phases, that's rather problematic in my eyes. I know it fits with the setting that nobody has a clue about modern psychology and how Locke's mood issues are a disease, not willful misbehaviour, but Lynch should find a way to make at least narratively clear that Jean isn't right to do this. Besides, that kind of shaming would just make things worse with a real depressive person.

By the way, I'm fairly sure Locke is supposed to be a straight up trickster hero. Like Robin Hood, or the characters of the show "Leverage". He's not just a crook, he's also a priest and he really does believe in his duty to the dead and that holy mission for class revenge that Father Chains put them all on. (Even if this was retconned into this book and not in the first.) If anything he gets ever kinder from book to book. I think the third one literally points out that Camorr culture is particularly brutal, macho and homophobic compared to all the other city states, and much of Locke's initial darkness is part of his culture (like for example an extreme belief in having to take personal, blood-feud style vengeance) and that this is supposed to be a character flaw. But as he spends time in other cultures, he grows out of some of it. For example, in the first book, he calls the villain homophobic slurs several times. After encountering the queer-positive pirates in the second novel and that little discussion with "I'll try anything once - or 5 or 6 times" guy, he never does that again. And by book 3, when encountering a random pair of gay lovers making out in a garden and being tempted to go through their discarded clothing for their wallets, he stops his kleptomaniac impulse by reminding himself that doing malice to happy lovers would be bad karma.

Also, the losses of his friends, the brush with alcoholism and several with death have seemed to have made him a lot more sympathetic with other people's failings and tragedies. I actually really liked this character development. Yeah, he starts out as a bit of a cock-sure, obnoxious ass, but he does grow up and mellow out over the years, as one should expect.

Heh, but one character actually goes into a rant in the 3rd book about how Father Chains ruined them all for life as hardened, greed-motivated criminals by saddling them with a conscience. So I guess Lynch sees your problem.

By the way, can you really call a character a Mary Sue if literally none of his grand plans for cons ever work out, sometimes because of his own sheer stupidity (e.g. forgetting the cats), sometimes because his mark is just plain cleverer than him (e.g. the paintings), and the author takes an almost perverse delight in beating the crap out of him on a regular basis?

And, as in Lies, the mysterious Sabetha, the apparent love of Locke's life, is alluded to but remains absent: for fuck's sake, Lynch, stop it. You know she's just going to be a total let down after a build up like this.

I thought so, too, and got annoyed at the on-the-pedestal-putting. But now that I've read book 3, which features Sabetha both at about age 30 and when they were both teenagers: She's not. She's really, truly not. In fact, I was genuinely amazed at Sabetha - she's the best feminist (NOT straw-feminist!) character I've ever seen a male author write. And even if half of her discussions with Locke function mainly to introduce the male part of the audience to concepts like male entitlement to female sexuality, Nice Guy behaviour, Shroedinger's Rapist, victim blaming, the general frustration inherent in being an ambitious, highly talented woman in a patriarchal society and the frustration of being in love a with patriarchally socialised guy (who messes up occasionally even if he tries very, very hard not to, and who can't help the unfair male privilege that said society gives him), and that what feminists most want in a man is the ability to listen and learn - even if she's a bit of a mouthpiece in that regard: It's for a good and noble cause, and the author's heart is in the right place. And besides, there still is a clever, head-strong, angry, conflicted, and of course snarky character behind all the Issues. Her characterisation and reasons for leaving are thoroughly believeable, and also function as an Author's Saving Throw by actually pointing out in-text that the worldbuilding in the first book was problematic. Locke and Sabetha are still in love when they meet again, and they are surprisingly mature about their falling out and their attempts to fix it (if not in their professional rivalry...)

And Locke's adoring pedestal-putting, claiming her to be the love of his life, and his whole fixation on her are just that, quite literally - and the text seems aware that it is creepy, and the only thing that saves it is the fact that Locke is absolutely respectful of Sabetha's wishes and never, ever would force so much as a kiss on her. (I found the retconned-in reason for the fixation a bit sad, though: Until book 3, Locke could be read as demisexual for only ever being romantically/sexually attracted to one person. Then it's retconned as having creepy magical reasons that I don't want to spoil.)

The only thing about Sabetha I found a little... amusing, was that teenage Locke was almost too understanding and willing to accept anything feminism-related that she says and to change accordingly. Like I bet the author wishes he was at the age of 16, now that he finally gets it. Still, again, if it serves as a positive role model for male teenage readers, I'm fine with that kind of Mary-Sue-ism. Maybe it's a little preachy, especially since Lynch tries to cover so many topics, but I was just smiling through the whole thing. We do need more books like this.

The con plot of book 3 is a bit meh (basically it's a satire about 'democratic' elections, where Sabetha and Locke are press-ganged into controlling the campaign of one rivaling but politically indistinguishable party each, with all methods allowed short of murder, all ostensibly just for the entertainment of the people who really control the power in this 'republic' - their lives are being threatened to keep them in line, but it just doesn't have the personal stakes and sense of danger that the previous books had), and the teenage flashback is largely about the gang having to stage an annoyingly faux-Shakespearean play while conning a noble into paying for the production. So the relationship between Locke and Sabetha and the object lesson in how to make feminism 101 easily digestible in a fantasy novel, really are the main draws of the book. The meta plot for the series gets going right at the end, though. Which to me felt a bit like jumping the shark, but YMMV.

But I really do recommend the 3rd book, even if the plot is a little weak. Just for the sheer surrealness of reading a male author who manages to get practically everything right with regards to feminism. I mean, I've just read Elizabeth Bear's "Carnival" thinking she must have been the one to teach Lynch - but even she had like two dozen points in that ecofeminist polemic that made me headdesk.

(That book also needs a Ferret review, by the way. It's not thoroughly bad, as such, but the social philosophising made me uncomfortable and I wasn't always sure if I was supposed to be, and the worldbuilding has huge holes at least from my biologist/ecologist point of view. Still, queer protagonists are rare and deserve a mention.)

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Robinson L

at 20:15 on 2016-12-21

Cheriola: You know, oddly most of the things you mention didn't bother me at all. Except the utter pointlessness of the opening cliffhanger.

That pretty much sums up my feelings about the book, too. I guess I just think of this series as running on Rule of Cool and nothing else. Locke and Jean become pirates? Sure, why not? Doesn’t make sense? Who cares? And of course they’re going to complain about how ridiculous the Archon’s plan for them is, but that’s part of the fun.

Dialogue’s all the same? Ehn, so what? It’s all fun. And like you, I relish the modern snappiness/obscenity.

I mean, I don’t blame Wardog or Empink or anyone else who is bothered by this stuff, but just for myself, it seemed fine.

Wardog: I genuinely dig the exuberance and the irreverence.

That’s me, all the way (well, more like ~90% …)

I think the series is of two minds about whether Locke is actually supposed to be kind of an awful person or a stand up guy who happens to be a criminal—but as explained in my comment to the

Lies

review, I’ve chosen not to engage with those aspects and treat the whole thing as a rollicking adventure yarn. I will, however, once again point out a couple instances from this book of Character We’re Supposed to Root For Acts Like a Shitheel and Is In No Way Critiqued For It By the Text presently.

Re: description

And sadly the delicacy of touch seems to have been replaced by the typical fantasy fiction obsession with geographic detail.

Okay, here we come to a criticism I wholeheartedly agree with. Ye GODS but the description got tedious at times. It got tedious on

audiobook

; I shudder to think of trying to slog through it in text format.

I didn’t so much resent the book ending on a cliffhanger – although by the time I got to it, <Republic of Thieveslt/i> was already out, so I knew I’d be reading the next installment in a few months. Mostly, though, I was just relieved the cliffhanger revolved around Locke’s survival rather than Jean’s, because there’s a chance, however slight, of the series killing off Locke’s sidekick before the final book, whereas there’s absolutely none with Locke. So I appreciate the book making it absolutely clear that it’s not really a question of

if

the poisoned character will survive, but

how

.

His [Jean’s] short-lived relationship - although actually moderately engaging, while it lasts - is only further evidence of this. You can see its inevitably tragic conclusion approaching on the horizon like the sails of the good ship Obvious.

I think you undersell the extent to which the tragic conclusion was telegraphed beforehand. We’re talking

a MegaBrooks at the very least

. And I don’t think it would be humanly possible for the way it played out to have been any more cliché. Not to mention the whole fridging angle. Easily the lowest point of the series so far for me.

I thought RSURS handled the aftermath of said inevitable tragic conclusion a heck of a lot less annoyingly than most other books with similar big deaths I’ve encountered, though (lookin’ at you,

Harry Potter

). Jean is, of course, grief-stricken, and the book portrays the depth of his unhappiness while mostly avoiding an Epic Angst Sequence (seriously, there are few things in fiction less engaging than characters sitting around moping), and even sets up some genuinely touching moments, such as in the immediate aftermath of Ezri’s death, when Locke talks Jean down by threatening to throw himself at Jean, forcing the latter to beat the crap out of him (Locke), “and then you’ll feel terrible.”

Yes, pretending Jean is anything more than Locke’s sidekick is on par with “suddenly, Harry realized Dumbledore had actually been a fully-fleshed, three-dimensional character the entire time.” (Book 3 confirms this, when, after Locke is all patched up, Jean slips happily back into his role as Locke’s Number 2 without a hint of lingering grief over Ezri’s death, even as he’s helping out his best buddy romance Sabetha.) However, I thought the conflict between Locke and Jean set off by this outburst of Jean’s you quote in the article was actually pretty decent in terms of a “tensions between the series’ Main Pairing” subplot, which are usually of the eye-bleedingly terrible variety.

And what’s this guff about “moderately engaging?” I found it one of the two most engrossing parts of the story, along with some of Locke and Jean’s interactions. Jean and Ezri are adorable in every single scene they’re together: they bond over martial arts (with Jean being impressed that tiny Ezri actually managed to take him down at first), and their mutual affection for the Gentleman Bastardverse’s Shakespeare analogue. And then there’s the celebration scene where the two of them officially get together, soon after Jean has had his argument with Locke. And he’s keeping his distance from Ezri and it seems like at first he’s heeding Locke’s “you need to stay away from her, bro” bullshit, but it turns out, no, he’s craning away because he’s near-blind and he’s trying to see her properly and it’s incredibly cute you guys, like seriously.

Another thing I really like about the Jean / Ezri relationship is that the presentation feels balanced. I instantly get why Ezri is attracted to Jean as much as why Jean is attracted to Ezri, and in that scene during the celebration where, of course, Jean is being all shy and awkward, there’s a part where we suddenly see Ezri being shy and awkward as well. I’ve read a lot of similar romance arcs—especially those told from the male perspective—where the viewpoint character is vulnerable and complex while their love interest is all strong and confident and basically put on a pedestal.

I actually found it more engaging than Locke’s relationship with Sabetha in

Republic of Thieves

. While I agree with Cheriola that Sabetha is a great character, we don’t get much sense of her interior life, and the only times she displays vulnerability are when it directly relates to Locke. Also, it takes a long time into the story for her to tell Locke and the reader why she’s attracted to him, and I don’t feel the text really

shows

her being attracted the way RSRUS does with Ezri.

RSURS opens with Locke and Jean caught at crossbow-point on the docks and then, gasp, ever-faithful Jean turns on Locke. The novel then spools backwards in time to show you how they got themselves into this mess and, yes, it's arresting except that it's basically just like Alias, a cliff-hanger critical on the surface but ultimately completely meaningless and wrapped up quicker than a streaker at a tennis match.

Oh my god, that was the worst; maybe even worse than Ezri’s death.

I detest flash-forward openings as a general rule. I feel like there

may

have been one or two I’ve encountered which actually worked okay, but if so I can’t remember them now. Those possible examples aside, at best, flash-forward openings contribute f***-all of substance to the story, and at worst they undermine immersion by distracting the reader from the current action with questions which aren’t going to be answered for another 200-400 pages.

To be fair, some flash-forward openings, while still crap, sometimes do something clever with the reader’s expectations (I remember one where a guy wakes up and wonders what the heck is going on, and when we get to that part of the book in turns out the original guy died, and this is a clone, so that waking up sequence is technically his birth). RSURS is not one of those stories, though. The sequence takes on no new significance or added meaning for having read the rest of the book up to that point.

But wait, it gets

better

! Jean turning on Locke is in itself not terribly surprising: they are master con artists, after all. The linchpin (no pun intended) of the tension to this scene is that Jean fails to give the hand signals which mean “this is a scam, play along,” leaving Locke, and the readers, to wonder if this is a real betrayal, after all. Then, after Jean has dispatched the two assassins he says: “Oh, yeah, didn’t you see me giving the hand signal which means ‘this is a scam, play along’?” and Locke is all like, “Gosh, man, I must’ve missed it.” And that’s an end to it. Are you f**king kidding me?

Granted, this sort of stuff happens all the time in real life, but narratively speaking, it’s the worst kind of cheap trick for creating false tension. It

might

have been forgivable if there were some long-term consequences to the whole business. Locke and Jean have both been dosed with a slow-acting poison at this point in the story, and I thought maybe Locke’s failure to notice the hand signal was an early warning sign that the poison is beginning to effect his perception. But

no

. Or maybe Jean really was considering turning on Locke for some reason or other and then had a change of heart, and made up the part about the hand signal. No sign of that, either.

Look, I’m glad Jean doesn’t actually betray Locke, because as story turns go, that would have been at least as irritating as Ezri’s death, probably worse. But first you hit me with this bullshit flash-forward, then you double down on the bullshit by revealing the whole thing was just a trifling misunderstanding with no effing consequences whatsoever? What a waste of time.

… So yeah, on balance, I was not well pleased or amused by this sequence, especially as our hook into the main story.

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Robinson L

at 20:30 on 2016-12-21And now it’s time for another installment of Robinson Dissects the Ethics of the

Gentleman Bastard

Books. This week’s episode: Captain Zamira Drakasha Edition.

So yeah, Zamira is all kinds of awesome, but like with the other main characters, it’s best to turn one’s critical thinking off when thinking about her actions, or it becomes very hard to think of her as any kind of hero.

Case in point: she takes Locke, Jean, and the rest of their sorry crew onto her ship as probationary pirates. You do good, you play by the rules, you become full crew members; you step out of line, you die. All pretty standard stuff, except it turns out when she says she will kill you for breaking the rules, she means it.

One of the guys who originally signed on with Locke and Jean now despises the two of them intensely and is kind of an asshole in general, so the reader is primed to dislike him. He’s getting picked on by some of Zamira’s crew members, and finally he gets pushed too far and grabs a weapon to defend himself with. But laying hands on a weapon is against Zamira’s rules, so she has him executed on the spot. For the kind of mistake that anybody could make. And the reader is supposed to be okay with this because the guy was made to be unlikable. It could just as easily have been someone like Jean or Locke making a similar mistake, prompting Zamira to execute them, and the reader to hate her, in turn. We’re not invited to judge her character based on her actions, but on how we feel about the characters she acts against.

Later, there’s the time when we first see Zamira’s

Poison Orchid

attack a merchant ship, which involves pretending to be in peril themselves. As the pirates are preparing to board the ship, one of Zamira’s lieutenants tells the new recruits “if any of you are feeling moral qualms about attacking these merchants, just remember that they thought we were in distress, and only came to help us when we signaled we were willing to give them unconditional salvage rights.” Which, if you stop to think about it, is a

really

clever rationalization to psych people up to potentially commit an atrocity. I mean, if that were the point of the sequence—which it isn’t—I would’ve said it was brilliant. For all they know, the captain of the merchant ship was just a huge asshole, and literally everyone else aboard was clamoring to help the

Poison Orchid

right from the beginning.

It also seemed like, in the three way struggle between the Archon, Stragos; the proprietor of the big gambling den, Requin; and the members of the Priori; Stragos winds up being the Designated Villain of the book, not because his actions are worse than those of Requin or the Priori (we’ve already established they can be equally vicious), but because it happens to be Stragos’ actions which got Jean’s girlfriend killed. He gets punished, whereas Requin and the Priori members get happy endings, only because Stragos hurt someone the reader is supposed to care about.

Locke and Jean are quick to forgive the Priori member who was sending assassins after them because the Bondsmages told him the two Gentleman Bastards were going to cause him trouble. Which, okay, the assassins all failed, and all got killed, but by the logic of this story they were probably all Bad Men who deserved what they got, so no harm, no foul, right? Except, no, there

was

harm. One of the attempts to kill Locke and Jean was a really convoluted scheme to give them free drinks which were laced with poison. And the thing about convoluted schemes is that they’re full of holes, as in this one where Locke and Jean weren’t interested in the drink in question, and passed theirs on to the dockworker at the next table, who proceeded to die in their stead. No one in the story ever gets any kind of comeuppance for this murder, ‘cause I guess we’re not supposed to care about red shirts.

So basically, what I’m trying to say here is that the ethics of this series are all kinds of messed up if you look closely.

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Robinson L

at 00:00 on 2016-12-22

Cheriola: book 3, when encountering a random pair of gay lovers making out in a garden and being tempted to go through their discarded clothing for their wallets, he stops his kleptomaniac impulse by reminding himself that doing malice to happy lovers would be bad karma.

That was cute. Another very minor point I appreciated from that book was in a scene where Locke has to hold Sabetha as part of this play they’re performing and the narrator (speaking broadly from Locke’s perspective) talks about what it’s like for someone to hold another person whom they’re attracted to. It would have been

so

easy to gender the subject of attraction in that sentence as female, or to say something like “a person of the opposite sex whom they’re attracted to.” But no, it’s a general statement, and so the book sticks with generalities, not making stereotypes about the genders or orientations involved. Again, a minor point, but one I’ve seen even a lot of nominally well-intentioned works fail at, so I was mildly impressed.

I was genuinely amazed at Sabetha - she's the best feminist (NOT straw-feminist!) character I've ever seen a male author write.

I think it was this part which finally clinched it for me to read the series. As a male author myself, I can’t help but take it as a challenge.

As mentioned earlier, though, I feel like we didn’t get much sense of Sabetha’s internal life, except as it relates to Locke, and she has to tell Locke (and the reader) what particularly attracts her to Locke, rather than the book showing us.

It probably was implausible to have 16-year-old Locke be so receptive to Sabetha’s Feminism 101 lectures, but for me it was preferable to the second hand embarrassment of having Locke throw out insipid, MRA-apologist arguments for Sabetha to shoot down.

Since I’m not seeing a

Republic of Thieves

review on the horizon, I suppose I might as well give my thoughts on the book in general. Overall, I liked it, and Sabetha is a fine addition to the series’ cast.

I also kind of dug the way the main caper of the book was not a high stakes life or death game of taking on some brutal, affluent, entitled snot or other, but rather fixing an upcoming election. It shows you can have all the same drama and intrigue without putting countless lives on the line, which comes as a nice change of pace. (Granted, it turns out there are countless lives on the line in the Bondsmagi’s larger game, but that only comes up after the whole thing is over, so in my view it still counts.)

My political sensibilities being what they are, I particularly liked the election angle to the plot because the book depicts it as 1) an aristocratic exercise with no pretense of populist input (only a small fraction of the city’s residents have the franchise), and 2) a complete farce in any case, because who gets elected has f**k all to do with who’s better leadership material or has the best policies – the book dispenses with such preposterous fig leaves and dives straight into the real heart of electoral politics: naked corruption, double dealing, and general chicanery. There’s also the implication that who gets elected is ultimately trivial in terms of how Karthain is actually run, because the real ruling elite (in this case, the Bondsmagi), make damn sure that in practice, it gets run exactly the way they believe produces the greatest benefit for the city’s inhabitants. (The book seems to suggest that what they think is best for Karthain really is, which is where its views and mine diverge, but other than that, I’m completely on board with the book’s representation.)

Locke’s backstory seemed … really out of place. Given how magic has always taken such a tertiary role in the books up to that point, I didn’t expect it to play such a huge part in Locke’s past. This felt like the backstory to a character in a very different type of story, honestly. But other than that it’s just kind of, “whatever.”

#Ferretbrain #Wardog #Red Seas Under Red Skies #Scott Lynch #The Lies of Locke Lamora

[tanadrin]

Olly Thorn, the guy who does Philosophy Tube, argues in his video on liberalism that, as an ideology, it’s characterized primarily by its tendency to carve out exceptions: politicians of classical liberal bent like moderate Republicans in the US and Tories in the UK promulgate a general political perspective of to-each-their-own, but place those principles in abeyance for pragmatic or situational reasons--and, of course, classically liberal documents like the U.S. Constitution talk a big game of being about freedom and self-determination generally, while having implicit and explicit glaring exceptions, like women and black slaves.

I disagree. Not because I’m a diehard classical liberal; I think liberalism is a useful starting point through which many much more incisive and useful political and social analyses have passed. It is at best the Newtonian physics of human rights, though sometimes it reeks of epicycles. But: I think liberalism is best understood as the practical application of philosophical principles discovered during the Renaissance and the Enlightenment, but only fully explored and coherently grappled with much later. Nonetheless, as a tendency, it does have its own internal logic, and the apparent suspension of liberal principles by self-professed liberals is less an inherent property of a liberal worldview than an inherent property of humans being shitty and clinging to, or adopting, prejudice when it’s expedient or provides some measure of personal comfort.

This is important because I think that ultimately the contradiction between the liberal perspective and the mental jiu-jitsu required to maintain those prejudices from a liberal perspective can open the floodgates to progress. Let us take the Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 60s in the US as an example. Many different factors contributed to the successes of the CRM in the 20th century. Previous attempts to win something like civil equality for black people in the US had failed: Reconstruction was abandoned, struggles against segregation in the early 20th century came to little, and the appetite for racial discrimination on the part of the white majority, especially in the South, was not at all diminished after the end of World War 2.

What changed? Mostly, I think, the right leaders and the right strategies at the right time. But a strong contributing factor was the fact that the U.S. saw itself as an essentially liberal construct, based on rights and freedoms and equality, and no matter what racist justifications were trotted out to narrow the scope of those rights, it was increasingly apparent both in internal and external terms that something was hilariously out of kilter. Women’s suffrage, the labor movement, and the relentless drive of black Americans to increase their own economic prosperity made it clear that there were brutal archaisms within the systems of American life that could no longer be sustained. On the world stage, two massive wars were fought in which the U.S. positioned itself as a defender of freedom and democracy, alongside allies that emphatically did *not* have explicit regimes of racial segregation enshrined in their laws, or the same thoroughgoing ideology of white supremacy, and one of which indeed argued (at least on paper) for a kind of radical social equality that would have had the so-called freedom-loving founders of the U.S. begging and screaming for a king to come back and rule over them again.

Like all great attempts at reform, the CRM achieved less than it set out to do. But, in a way that the labor movement and women’s suffrage had not, it did leave a powerful lasting model within American culture and within the American civil religion for What Rights-Seeking Is Supposed To Look Like. I don’t know why the CRM was unique in this respect. (I suspect that it’s because the CRM occurred when the contradictions it sought to undo were at their height, relatively-speaking: even in the 50s and 60s, the philosophical justification for racism and segregation was basically incoherent screeching, which meant that extremely uncontroversial tactics could prove highly persuasive.) It also established that *this was a process that was supposed to occur.* By giving such a process a formal presence within civil society, it directly laid the groundwork for other movements rebelling against much older, and much more deeply ingrained prejudices, against which liberalism had, heretofore, been mostly powerless. This was extremely important.

Gay and lesbian culture, and the idea that gay and lesbian people might not be demon-possessed desecrators of all that was good and decent in life, did not appear suddenly in the second half of the 20th century. But the CRM provided a new framework in which to cast the concept of gay rights, and, indirectly, language for a gay identity that wasn’t one entirely of rebellion. Let us cast ourselves back to a much earlier era, the long 18th century. In this era, before even the milquetoast concession to the humanity of homosexuals that was the reclassifying homosexuality as a psychiatric disorder instead of an immolation-worthy offense, the dominant language to talk about good and bad, ethical and unethical, right and wrong, was monopolized by religion and the religion-adjacent concept of natural law. Lacking the natural empiricism that was the legacy of scientists like Darwin, natural law was conceived of in narrow terms that were not, in fact, based on any close or careful observations of nature, but human biases projected on to the natural sphere. Therefore, for many people who found themselves inherently opposed to the dominant ethical framework, like those who fell in love with and were attracted to people of the same sex, the choice they had must have felt from the inside a lot like Huck Finn’s: to be “good,” even though it was personally and spiritually intolerable to you, or to say, “All right then, I’ll go to hell.”

If society refuses to make a distinction between real evils and real suffering we visit upon each other and the moralizing “evils” we conceive of only to police the behavior and opinions of our neighbors, it must not pretend to be astonished when those who, out of no actual malicious inclination, must be themselves or perish reject that general framework entirely. And you know what? I sympathize. If somebody told me that who I was, inherently, was evil, even though I desire no harm and no suffering to anyone around me, and that expressing that identity even in private was equivalent to--or worse than!--inflicting grievous harm on another human being out of pure hatred, I would be extremely suspicious of their overarching moral framework.

Out of, I suspect, an inclination to rebelliousness and an imperfect analysis of the insufficiencies those antiquated frameworks, people like Marquis de Sade embraced or appeared to embrace monstrous ethics, because these were the only other ethics available to them. Christian, and especially Catholic teachings on sexual ethics require not only a denial of truths of human nature available to casual, empirical inspection (if one is willing to conduct such an inspection dispassionately, attendant to discovery of novel goods as well as novel ills), but a monstrous indifference to the suffering such teaching inflict on those who are simply unable to conform. Then, Pikachu-like, the Catholic church looks at gays and lesbians and gender-nonconforming people and says to itself, “Why on earth did these people reject the simple truth of the teachings of Christ??”

Thankfully, the gay rights movement has a superpower that the African-American civil rights movement, and the feminist movement, and many other such movements throughout history, did not. That superpower was the closet, or, more specifically, in the act of coming out. Women, the working class, and racial minorities are not randomly distributed throughout the population. Working class children are not born at random to middle-class and wealthy families; you do not need to come out as black to your shocked segregationist parents at sixteen. There is not a pre-scripted social role for gays and lesbians to slot into, a set of norms that are foisted on one as totally and completely as gender roles with a provenance that stretches back into the misty depths of Mesopotamian time. (There could have been. In some societies there is something quite like that--just not in ours.)

Because literally anyone could be gay, and because creating social bubbles of like racial or political or socioeconomic attributes does not insulate one from knowing someone who has the experience of being gay, even though gay people are not a large proportion of the population (2-5%, maybe), it becomes much harder to maintain “gay” as a firmly isolated category of other. When just enough gay people have come out in a society that is just liberal enough to tolerate their existence, it rapidly incentivizes more gay people to come out, both to be able to live as themselves, and to say to their acquaintances and family, even if in the most nominal way, “yes, you too know a gay person. You must integrate your knowledge of me as a person into your understanding of the category ‘homosexual.’” And, of course, also incentivizes closer analysis of sexual identities; of the coming out of bisexual people, who otherwise might live tolerably-but-unhappily in the closet, or who simply might not understand that bisexuality is a thing and they share it; and, as we have now, the beginning of a glorious blossoming of a diverse and nuanced understanding of sexuality and sexual identity. To the reactionary mind, this looks like the gays are recruiting, and lobbying, and overturning the order of society. In fact, what is happening is that even those conservative by inclination (among them, famously, Dick Cheney) cannot maintain both their avowed liberalism and their opposition to gay rights when confronted with members of their own family who are gay. It may not lead them to a comprehensive application of the ruthless logic of liberal democracy, but it does destroy one specific contradiction. This is why, even though the U.S. as a whole is not much more socially liberal, the popular opposition to gay marriage absolutely fucking *cratered* between the end of the 90s, when the idea was first conceived of in an extremely-distant extremely-theoretical way, and Obergefell. For institutional reasons peculiar to American conservatism, there’s still a nominal opposition, but let’s be clear: the war is over. Gay marriage (which I’m using here as a proxy for ‘basic acceptability of homosexuality as a personal attribute’) won.

This not to say that all discourse over gay rights is finished, any more than racism in the US ended with the VRA in 1964, or the need for feminism ended when women got the vote. Political rights aren’t the equivalent of social equality. But how we organize ourselves politically is integral to the mythology of our society--there’s a reason that, say, in the US electing your high school student council uses first past the post voting, while in Ireland it uses IRV. Political rights are a baseline and a pivot point. If your right to marry someone of the same sex is protected by law, it is a powerful social signal that being gay is OK--just as the VRA is a powerful social signal that racism is not, and women’s suffrage that women’s role as political beings is not to be ignored.

So there’s an ongoing social struggle to dismantle illiberal-undemocratic incoherencies within smaller bubbles of society, using the overarching consensus, and to dismantle biases and prejudices which are predicated on the illegitimacy of homosexuality, because the actual implications of the legitimacy of a gay identity haven’t been fully worked out generally. Same as with race. Same as with gender equality. And because the L, the G, the B, and the T (and all the other letters in the increasingly-expanding initialism) are related, because gender and sex and sexuality are part of a huge and messy complex of human identity, transness and trans identities specifically, while constituting a distinct concept on their own, are bound up in other ongoing struggles, while also having issues all their own. If, as Dan Savage says, misogyny is homophobia’s snot-nosed sibling (and it absolutely is), so is transphobia. You cannot be a transphobe and not, at some level, be supporting the same set of memes that has for thousands of years legitimized sexism, sexual exploitation, the brutalization of gay people, etc., etc.

What are some of those unique issues? Well, for one, transness is more bound up with medicalization and looks more to medicine to legitimize itself as an identity than any other GSM. There are historical and practical reasons for that. Historical, in that sex researchers and psychiatrists newly interested in the empirical exploration of human identities were among the first people to take the experiences of trans people seriously. While we had preexisting and strong social stigmas around the idea of homosexuality, we had a society so transphobic by default that it didn’t even really understand trans people could exist, much less come up with invective against them. This didn’t mean early trans pioneers like Lili Elbe were accepted by society, really; but the cruel incomprehension of society was more like the attitude to circus freaks than to serial killers. With gay people, on the other hand, “sympathetic” psychiatrists reclassified homosexuality as a disease, then started work on various kinds of fucked-up conversion therapy. Psychiatry may be a science, but let it never be said that science is immune to human prejudice.

But the practical reason for that association is that modern medical technology offers a powerful tool for relieving the suffering of trans people. To be sure, there are specific concerns of medical care among gay, lesbian, and bi people, too, especially since the beginning of the AIDS pandemic. But such is a) the complex and interlocking aspects of gender and presentation and embodiment of both in our society and b) the nature in which dysphoria is felt by trans people, that medical intervention is, purely on a pragmatic level, a powerful tool to both relieve suffering specific to the experience of being trans. That’s not really the case with gay or bi identities.

Where we run into trouble is where we rely on the interface between trans identities and medical institutions to legitimate trans identities. What this huge long screed has all been a preface to is this assertion: that it is, above all, entirely unnecessary. You do not need a comprehensive medical theory of blackness to recognize black people deserve rights. You do not need a medical theory of gayness to recognize gay people deserve rights. Ditto womanhood. Indeed, in *every one* of those cases, medical theorizing on paradigms of homosexuality, womanhood, and race have been used to prop up, rather than to dismantle prejudices, and it is only the relentless logic of liberal values, either on their own terms, or in the more sophisticated form under which they’re incorporated into other critiques of society (as leftists sometimes manage), that have ultimately pushed through the “eww, I don’t like these people” reaction to a consistently tolerant treatment of these categories as fully realized human beings--or, at least, the beginnings of that treatment.

(Irrelevant aside: I actually entirely expect that the close relationship between medical and experiential aspects of transess will be the vehicle to greater acceptability of a transhuman ethos around how we interact with our bodies. Because the morphological self-determination aspect of transhumanism is fundamentally liberal, i.e., it’s about personal autonomy and personal flourishing, and because the technologies available to facilitate that are medical, they’re bound up with the cultural aspects of medicine. Right now, that’s a disease model, based both on the inheritance of medicine as “thing which exists to make people healthy again,” and the practical limits of scarcity and wanting people to pay out of pocket for anything that is classified as purely cosmetic. But in my heart of Utopian hearts, even purely cosmetic procedures belong to the same category, mutatis mutandis 1) whether they can be shorn from the (IMO mostly unfair) presumption they’re about conforming to oppressive social norms, and 2) the fact they’re usually used to enact a preference much less acute and involving much less personal difficulty than GID. But big, big emphasis on “usually.” To put it another way, unbinding medicalization from transness wouldn’t be an argument against providing specialized medical care for trans people. It would be an argument for providing a similar set of services to everyone.)

I’m actually deeply uninterested in theorizing about what transness is or how it’s constituted. For one, I think a lot of the questions around it are simplistic and ill-defined, such as the utterly moronic search for “a gay gene.” Human identity and sexuality and sex, and cultural complexes built around those things which have their roots in, but really aren’t tied to biology in any kind of philosophically consistent way, are too multifactorial, and too fuzzy to be clearly or cleanly captured by psychiatry and neuroscience and biology as they currently stand. Maybe one day, when we have Culture-level AI able to image us down to the subatomic level and run sophisticated simulations of every metabolic pathway and every cognitive tic simultaneously we can create a sufficiently detailed model of the human being to speak on these things with some certainty. But that’s actually irrelevant to the messy business of lived experience, and to the practical business of “how do we get people to stop deliberately inflicting massive amounts of suffering on each other.”

The answer to the latter question is essentially the same as has been for homosexuality. Like gay people, trans people have the superpower of being able to come out. Unlike gay people, trans people make up an even smaller proportion of the population. And the conversation around the diversity of gender identity is even more in its infancy than the conversation around sexual identities. But as we have seen time and time again, the exact constitution of the identity is irrelevant to the identity’s legitimacy. Those hostile to that identity will always find a basis on which to rest their hostility: using medical legitimacy, or failure to conform to the gender binary, or failure to meet some arbitrary definition of dysphoria, will make it no easier to gain acceptance. Minorities under siege have been willing to throw less-mainstream members of the group under the bus to defend themselves since time immemorial: it never works. You will be accepted for precisely as long as you are useful to attack other members of the group, and then they will turn on you. Racists will use black people who look down on AAVE to say, “see! I’m not racist!” and then still refuse to hire the well-dressed black person who speaks perfectly standard GenAm, over a less qualified white person. There is no “balancing act” between a “reasonable” set of trans identities and an “unreasonable” set, because what the philosophical battle is over is not where, exactly, the line will be drawn for a minority identity, but the validity of that fundamental identity in the first place.

So I tire of people who want to endlessly split and compare forms of transness that they feel are well beyond the set of central examples of trans identity. I tire of people who want to treat some forms of gender self-identity as invalid, or of too little value to the person making them to be worth caring about. This is not just dumb, and it’s not just bad strategy (solidarity! it works, bitches). It’s actually completely missing the point. If you can convince society that “trans” is a legitimate identity, the supposed edge cases don’t matter. If you can’t, abandoning people “without” “real” “dysphoria” or w/e won’t make a difference. It’s not as if they’re the one thing standing in the way of every transphobe going “welp, guess we were wrong!” The thing standing in the way is that they refuse to accept trans identities at all. They will point to whatever they can to buttress that lack of acceptance, and if it isn’t that it will be something else. The thing that works against that, the thing that dismantles that, is the same thing that always dismantles prejudice: you be who you are. You don’t let anyone take that away from you. And if someone asks you to philosophically justify your experiences, your life, your existence, you tell them to get fucked, and you keep right on living.

#ramblings and doggerel #please excuse the long ass maddowesque meandering #i swear there's a point at the bottom of all this

[beautifultaemin]

class president!doyoung

i was gonna do a whole blown scenario for this but exams are hurting me and i don’t have time sooooo, i settled for bullet points instead lmao. i hope i fed those thirsty, deprived doyoung stans because the drought was real painful. there is smut involved (not much but still) so if you’re not comfortable please don’t read. also i didn’t go back and read this cause i’m lazy so sorry for any errors!

yeet yeet lets get it boiz

so doyoung would be that one kid in class who’s always followed the rules and always was essentially, the teachers pet but regardless of that everyone in the class still loved him

part of the popular kids group but he wasn’t the stereotypical asshole, he was reaaaaally nice to everyone but went super salty when his friends teased him for applying for class president though lmao

definitely would go around to all the classes before school, during lunch, after school...basically whenever he could to get votes (even though he didn’t really need too cause everyone was gonna elect him anyway) and surprise surprise, he became class president

you were part of the minority (of like 10 people) who didn’t vote for him though but that was cause you thought he was two faced and only wanted the role for fame or some shit and your best friend (we’ll name them becky don’t ask why) went for it too but everyone was too busy gushing over doyoung like always...

he found out about you not voting for him

would pester you about why you didn’t

that only made you more annoyed lmaooo

but trust me, he wouldn’t stop

would PURPOSELY sit next to you and becky every single lunch break and make conversation that you shut out

becky would get annoyed at you even more than you were annoyed at doyoung

‘legit like why can’t you just talk to him so he can leave you alone istg it’s not that hard.’ (becky)

‘he’s so annoyed, besides you should have been class president not him. he’s too much of an asshole for that kind of responsibility’ (you)

‘dude, it’s been three months. drop the class president shit, he got it and we all knew he would’ (becky)

who was salty? you were salty. you definitely didn’t understand the hype around doyoung at all. sure, he was nice, super somewhat attractive, that’s all???

tbh the fact that you were both in the same class didn’t make anything better cause you’d have to see his super somewhat attractive face every day and hear people talk about how good he was every d a y

doyoung didn’t miss the way you’d roll your eyes at every compliment he got in class which is why he’s make it his job to give YOU a compliment every day which everyone found super cute and the whole class would erupt into ‘oooooh’’s

he made you feel all giddy on the inside and you couldn’t understand why so that’s why you had made it your job to give HIM an insult every time he complimented you. he’d chuckle at that, and you’d melt some more.

it wasn’t hard too notice the frustration between the both of you. half sexual half not sexual, something was definitely there

and when the both of you stayed behind after school hours to do extension work for maths, it was kind of weird cause there was no bickering for once. like the both of you were actually...quiet...and doing work???

‘well this is kinda...weird’ (dy)

‘hm, you don’t say. not gonna give me my daily compliment?’ (you)

‘not gonna give me my daily insult about how shit i am?’ (dy)

‘might do but you usually give the compliment first sooo’ (you)

‘didn’t think you’d be the type of girl with a praise kink y/n’ (dy)

guess who’s speechless? you, bitch. mostly cause he had the nerve to smirk right after he said that and that flipped your stomach over

‘by the fact you haven’t said anything, i think i might be right.’ (dy)

‘shut up doyoung. do your work’ (you)

‘alright princess but i see the way you look at my lips when you think you’re being slick’ (dy)

‘’i don’t- i don’t know what you’re talking about’ (you)

what bullshit, you totally did. there was no denying you did stare, how could you not? his lips we’re the perfect shade of pink, glistening, smooth...there was not a doubt you wanted to kiss them.

‘if you say so’ doyoung chuckled.

you were about to say something smart back, so you turned your head to him. bad decision. you saw his tongue dart out and lick his lips as he looked back at you.

you looked down at his bottom lip he licked and gulped. he was dangerously close to you, so were his lips...

‘kiss me’ he didn’t hesitate to do so, pressing his lips to yours. going off his looks you’d expect him to be a soft kisser, taking his time and savoring the moment. instead it was rushed and hungry, his hands going to the side of your face and to your waist, pulling you closer to him, practically on the edge of your chair

doyoung ushers the both of you to stand up and has you against the desk, your maths work forgotten, now all you could think about is how your stomach is flipping the more doyoung moves his lips against yours. if this is what kissing him felt like, you would have done it a long time ago.

‘if you want me to stop, tell me now, otherwise i won’t be able too hold back’ he whispered against your lips

‘don’t stop. please’ you didn’t want him to stop, not in the slightest.

everything kind of went by in a blur...you remember him muttering something about finding out if you had a praise kink

maybe that’s why he had you sit on the desk, books and papers fallen to the floor as his fingers did wonders inside you, doyoung pressing his oh so soft lips to your neck

muttering anything and everything dirty

‘fuck, you’re so tight’

‘so wet’

‘i bet you love my fingers inside you’

‘does knowing anyone could possibly walk in and see you like this turn you on?’

you clenched around his fingers, desperately reaching out, gripping onto his shoulders as a plea left your swollen lips

‘you want to be a good girl?’ you nodded.

‘say it’

‘use your pretty voice for me y/n’

you were so far gone at this point

‘p-please doyoung. i want- i want to cum for you’

there it was again, his little smirk that had you going crazy but a few seconds later you were moaning doyoung’s name incoherently

he helped you ride out your high, pulling out his fingers that had your wetness covering them and not having any shame as he placed them into his mouth, groaning at how you tasted

the act had you turning red, coming to terms with the fact doyoung had just fingered you...at school, when you weren’t supposed to like him??

the room was silent for a bit before doyoung spoke up

‘looks like i was right about your praise kink’

#doyoung #doyoung smut #nct #nct smut #nct scenarios #taeyong #johnny #jaehyun #taeil #winwin #mark #kun #yuta #ten #lucas #jungwoo #kpop #kpop smut

[happiness4jane]

The Scariest Thing I’ve Ever Done

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Well, this is terrifying. Paralyzing almost. My hands are literally trembling as I try to punch the letters on my keyboard. When I allow myself to think about the people that might read this. People I know. People I work with. Students I teach. Students I’ve taught. My soon-to-be-in-laws. My exes. Their families (they’ll say, “I told you so!”). My friends. Their friends. My family. My children. All 836 of my Facebook “friends” are potential critics. And they’ll share it with even more people that might know me or will know me, that see me around and will avoid making eye contact with me in Walmart forevermore! When I allow myself to think about that – the people that might read this – every self-doubting, loathing, shaming, insecure demon inside me surfaces in protest. BUT… but. That’s the point, after all. For people to read this. To maybe help others claw their way out of the uncompromising, crippling, and degenerative grasp of the illness known as Bipolar Disorder (no, but seriously, this scares the shit out of me and I can’t breathe).

Here’s the thing though – I shouldn’t be ashamed of it. It isn’t fair we live in a society that shames people with mental illness into silence. That calls us “crazy”. We can’t just snap our fingers and make it go away (but, oh, if I could!). We can’t just act normal, act rational. It’s not something we can tame on command. And we didn’t choose this. Who would choose this?! Who would choose to leave behind a legacy of wreckage? Well, I don’t doubt there are some who’d choose that… As for me, when I think on all the destroyed relationships, the lost jobs, the unfinished projects and departed dreams, the reckless moments that would haunt me for years, the countless days stolen away by infinite darkness… the shame, the shame, the shame – I would never choose this. And yet, despite all the chaos and ruin and regret, it took me about twenty years to get help. Why? The simple answer is, I didn’t want to be Bipolar. I didn’t want people to think I was crazy (Ha! Like they didn’t already!). So, I refused to accept it. I refused to seek treatment. And it got worse. Much, much worse.

About seven months ago, after another life-is-amazing-and-I-don’t-need-to-sleep-and-I’ll-hyper-focus-and-finish-that-novel-and-train-for-that-marathon-and-FUCK!-you-better-stop-getting-in-my-way-or-I’ll-bite-your-damn-head-off-so-feed-yourself elevated state (Symptoms of a manic episode: increased activity, energy or agitation; decreased need for sleep; abnormally upbeat) followed inevitably by a crashing-into-bed-and-plotting-out-the-details-of-my-exit-because-I-just-can’t-live-in-this-world-anymore-and-I’m-worthless-and-horrible-and-you’d-all-be-better-off-without-me depressed state (Symptoms of a major depressive episode: feelings of sadness, emptiness, hopelessness; marked loss of interest in activities; fatigue; feelings of worthlessness or excessive or inappropriate guilt; thinking about, planning, or attempting suicide), I sought the help of a counselor. So, what changed, you might be wondering? What made me seek treatment at this point, after shunning it for so many years? Well, it used to be that I had normal periods of time between the depression and the elevation. It used to be fun and ambitious and productive (euphoric but always beguiling) to be elevated. It used to be the depression came maybe a couple times a year. The unwarranted distrust and insecurity and ultra-sensitivity was fleeting. The suicidal thoughts were daunting rather than soothing. That’s what used to be. It was easier to pretend I was normal then. I was just eccentric! I was special! Like some of the greatest artists and inventors and individuals that made history. I was a mad genius just like Salvador Dali, Vincent Van Gogh, Charlie Chaplin, Ben Franklin, Sir Isaac Newton, Michelangelo (Symptom: exaggerated sense of self). I was able to ride that train of twisted thought for a long long time, because I could finish what I started then, because I was younger then, and there was always another job, another lover, another place that would accept me. But around seven years ago, that all began to change. The depression seized more frequently. The elevation became less euphoric and more agitated, even rageful at times – lashing out at and rejecting the people I loved most. I started projects but never finished them. It became more and more difficult to go to work, and when I got there, I had to convince myself out of the car and into the classroom. In the classroom, I felt like an alien. I couldn’t stay on track, couldn’t focus my thoughts (Symptom: rapid and frenzied speaking, racing thoughts). I felt like I was disconnected from everything around me, like I wasn’t real (Symptom: dissociation). And then over the past year, the episodes seemed to be crashing right on top of each another with no reprieve in-between. It was relentless, crippling. One day of unbridled energy followed by two days of extreme irritability followed by one day of bed-ridden depression and then rinse, lather, repeat. Weeks, months, a year like this. The darkness that occasionally consumed my thoughts mutated to a pervasive utter blackness – leaving a void where hope and happiness used to visit. My fiancé pleading with me to get out of bed. My 10-year-old son asking me why I was so angry. My six-year-old daughter saying, “Mommy’s sick again.” I hated myself. I couldn’t pretend I was perfectly healthy – just eccentric – anymore. I was sick. Very sick.

You see, Bipolar Disorder is a degenerative illness, and by denying myself treatment, I had enabled a progression into periods of rapid cycling, meaning I was basically Bipolar on steroids – my depressive and manic moods shifting in a constant unpredictable shitstorm. This is the way it was explained to me by my counselor (in much more eloquent terms). She said that in the same way progressive diseases like Cancer will eventually cause organ failure if left untreated, Bipolar Disorder gradually diminishes brain function if left untreated. Oh, did I mention this conversation took place just a month ago? And, perhaps you remember that I went to see her the first time about seven months ago? No, it didn’t take that long to diagnose me. It took that long for me to commit. I honored my appointments only twice before I disappeared for another two months and then for another five months after that (I was still battling my desperate desire to be “normal”). During those initial appointments, I either purposefully omitted the symptoms of my elevated states, or honestly didn’t know they were elevated states. Hard to tell. On the one hand, for most of my life the elevated states were something to look forward to. They were a tremendous relief since they often followed a long period of depression, or, they were a welcome rush of intense energy and focus and ambition after a period of normal moods and routines. On the other hand, there was a part of me that hoped, if I had to be diagnosed with something, that it be depression and/or anxiety – just not Bipolar, please, not that! For some totally illogical reason, having depression and anxiety seemed more socially acceptable to me. People posted about their depression and anxiety on social media. My students openly discussed their struggles with them in class. Lot’s of people are depressed and anxious! Poor reasoning but, I convinced myself that my elevated states were just “normal” times when I wasn’t depressed. After all, I didn’t behave like someone that was manic. I was nothing like Bradley Cooper’s character in “Silver Linings Playbook”! I didn’t suddenly become totally irrational. I didn’t spend everything in my bank account in some obsessed frenzy. I didn’t abruptly start making good on all my wildest fantasies and desires. I didn’t incoherently speed-talk and jump around from one interest to another. No, it was never that pronounced. Or, was it? I’d certainly been called Bipolar enough in my lifetime – and not in a concerned or encouraging way. More like I was being called a “crazy bitch”. It was a bad word. And I did spend [a lot] more money than I should when I felt “good”. Like, when I bought that boat with a personal loan on a 50% interest rate. Or, when I financed that international trip while negative in my bank account. And on all that professional camera equipment when I decided to be a video editor, and on this website two years ago when I decided to be a blogger (Perhaps, now, I’ll finally make use of it?). And the hundreds of dollars I invested in gear when I was suddenly inspired to run a marathon (but I did follow through on that one, thank you very much!). Oh, right, I guess I do jump around from interest to interest when I’m feeling “inspired”. I’m going to be a motivational speaker, no, a novelist, no, a personal trainer, no, a corporate trainer, no, a filmmaker, no, an entrepreneur, no… the list goes on and on. But these things felt so good. Even though I had to clean up the wreckage whenever I smashed back down on the pavement. The rubble of estranged relationships, busted bank accounts, retired jobs. So yeah, I went with depression and anxiety, masking the symptoms of mania. And I refused medication (because all I really needed to do was get my shit together, not numb myself with zombie-making pills). Until the progression to rapid cycling imprisoned me and I sulked, defeated, back into therapy five weeks ago.

After years and years and years of heartbreak and rejection and confusion and self-loathing and denial and protest, I began taking a daily mood stabilizer and seeing my therapist once a week. It took a couple weeks before there was any discernable change, and after four weeks, the change in my behavior was nothing short of striking. At that point, I realized I hadn’t been swallowed by the black void in three full weeks – a record time in nearly a year. I hadn’t lashed out in rage at anyone either. And the most surprising thing? I wasn’t the living dead. I had heard these nightmare testimonies about people with Bipolar Disorder beginning medication and going numb, like they’d been lobotomized, and that panicked me. I didn’t want to stop feeling, I just wanted to experience my feelings in a regulatory fashion. And I was, for the first time in years. Now, I want to be very careful not to sound like the poster girl for medicating. My strong belief is that we over-medicate in this country (but that’s for another post). No miracle has occurred. I’m not “cured”. In fact, there is no known cure for Bipolar Disorder. It can be managed, with a combination of medication and psychotherapy. Some days are better than others. But every day, I still battle my demons and the life-long conditioning of patterns, emotional reactions, and behaviors. My recovery is a continuous journey where no arrival point exists. But I have hope today. I wake up motivated to get out of bed without needing the boost of mania. I carry out the responsibilities and routines of the day without fighting off panic or becoming despondent. I fall asleep without the “lulling” melody of my own death dancing around my thoughts. Yes, I still get anxious and angry and sad and overly eager. The difference is in the way I’ve responded to those feelings since starting treatment. My awareness of the condition and the symptoms that accompany it, along with my medication, has helped me acknowledge my feelings before acting on them.

I hope it’s not the honeymoon period. I hope it lasts.

It’s early yet.

But if this remarkable change is here to stay [with dedicated treatment], I can’t help but feel frustration with myself for not seeking help sooner. Just to think on all the chaos and anguish I could have spared myself and others… But I’m here now, and perhaps it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be – writing this blog so that you may read it and be inspired to act now. For yourself, or for someone you know, before it’s too late. Make no mistake, this disease does kill. The suicide rate for people with Bipolar Disorder is twenty times that of the general population, and nearly 30% will make a suicide attempt at least once in their lifetime.

Don’t pity me, and please don’t fear me. I’m not very different from you. I have a family, friends, a career, hopes and dreams and struggles and fears. For those of you that know me, I’m still Jen. Maybe I’m even a better Jen – my greater and more genuine self. As a society, we need to reframe the way we perceive and speak about mental illness. Help me promote a fair image for those individuals and families that are afflicted with it – so they won’t suffer in silence. So they get help.

My name is Jen Hogue, and I’m diagnosed Bipolar II. Today, I’m in treatment. I take my medication everyday and see my counselor every week. I have a sense of hope that I haven’t had in far too long. I still don’t know if I’ll be brave enough to publish this. But I hope I will. After all, it’s often in the greatest risks we take that we find our greatest triumphs, and our greatest gifts to one another.  

#happiness4jane happinessforjane mentalhealth bipolardisorder bipolar depression anxiety mentalhealthsupport

[incorrectly-quoted-queers]

Dial 20 For Hermit Crabs: Chapter 1

Genre: Drama, Romance

Themes: Anxiety, Relationships, Finding Yourself

Summary: Maggie Caspen has an anxiety disorder. Before her big break (mental, that is), she was a top-tier college student on her way to becoming a marine biologist. Then that all went up in flames, and all she has left are her parents, her cat, and the hermit crabs on the beach. But no matter the amount of forums or the YouTubers that tell her how much they feel it, too, she still feels like a directionless freak. That is, until a chance phone call with a bizarre author might just give Maggie the purpose she needs.

Chapter 1: All The Small, Anxious Things 

Small things, even the smallest things on earth, can sometimes be just that. Miniscule, minute, meager. They shuffle along, overcast by the daunting workings of the world, ignored.

But sometimes small things can cast a long shadow. Sometimes they are not what they seem. Sometimes they are bigger on the inside. Small things can really end up being tremendous, gargantuan things, but some people don't realize that. Most people think the small things don't really matter. Not in the long run, at least. It was just one word. It was just one page. It was just one tiny, little hermit crab. What could matter so much about them?

But to some people, the small things can be the things that matter the most.

&&&

Everyone spends a lot of their lives fooling themselves, don't they? "Fucking this guy will definitely make me feel less empty inside" or "I can't be failing that class, I only miss it like once a week" or "the alcohol totally makes me forget all the things that hurt". Of course Maggie was not as self-righteous to think she was exempt. Her? During her stupid and short college saga, there was a decent amount of time early in which she fully believed that the "You can will yourself better" mantra was the pinnacle of truth. That it's impossible for everyone to not willfully tell themselves it will be okay and it will be. That people, at their core, cannot be weaker than they think.

Now Maggie realized she was the one bullshitting herself.

There was a lot of time and thought put into this realization, unfortunately. Maggie wished it had been a "Wham Bam" situation, but it was more of a slow burn, until the end. She had a lot of time to think when she went back home, and now she was here, in an empty Oregon bungalow. The transition between mountains of homework to nothing but a white ceiling to stare at wasn't that great.

All Maggie had to her name after the hospital was morbid contemplation, and after a long time she came to a short conclusion: yeah, college almost killed her. Life is complicated. And never forget that regardless of how deadly everything seems to be, nothingness is pretty deadly too.

She used to be the strong, upcoming Caspen scientist, with wonderful grades and a love of research, with bookish glasses and dreams of marine biology. So, what happened?

Maggie could nearly feel it pierce her heart. She knew what goddamned happened. It all began to fall apart when Maggie had a complete nervous breakdown her sophomore year. Well, before that. It began in high school, when she started to get more and more worried about school and her future. Panicked, really. Kind of consumed most every waking thought she had. But the final breakdown was the hellish cherry on top.

After a series of unfortunate events, she ended up getting a little too burned up by stress late into the fall semester and decided to burn down her dorm room right alongside her. After it ended with Maggie incoherent and blatantly guilty in the rare December snow, her mothers, the dean of the college, and some doctors decided she should take the spring semester off.

That's how she ended up spending three months in-between four hospital walls that only seemed to get egregiously larger each day. Maggie also got a diagnosis that felt like a large sticker reading "anxiety disorder" to attach to her forehead, as if it was her new identity.

After that came the long March month of her doting parents spoon-feeding Maggie her life. Her Mum, Lynn, especially loved showing her photo albums and smiling cautiously, as if hoping Maggie would have an epiphany and be suddenly cured, and as if she had amnesia and not a severely detrimental anxiety disorder. Maggie didn't feel much like the girl in the pictures any longer, but she eventually let them grow on her. It helped her Moms learn to smile again.

She stared around the dim-lit living room and could see the past few months fly by her. And somehow she ended up here, with a flower couch and kitchen made for much smaller humans. After all that hospitalization and panic, her mothers had lovingly convinced her to move out. On her own.

How could she live alone? She could barely remember life without flames dancing in front of her eyes.

Maggie knew the old her would deal with this by burying herself in another marine thesis, or getting drunk at parties with no one she knew, or having one-night stands that she planned to never see again. Anything to take the edge off. That is, until the edge stopped going away.

In her head her therapist's words echoed, about how she needed to try healthy practices to soothe her anxiety. But nothing really seemed to work yet. The closest was the beach, but it also made her ache for the studies and research that now gave her post-traumatic hives.

Yet, now here she was. Grandma was moving to her new place in Florida and Maggie was expected to be better off in her small condo. It was time to figure herself out, everyone nodded and admired. Like they understood this whole science experiment and instead of being a co-researcher, she was the subject.

It was only a short drive from her parents, was all paid off, and she'd get some autonomy back. Perfect, right?

Laying down in what used to be her grandma's big bedroom, Maggie grabbed onto her arms tight and felt another shake wrack through her body. The whole expanse felt too big, like it was ready to swallow her any minute. Yeah, she felt so fucking better. What it actually felt like was that nothing was going right in her life and this "great step forward" might actually be not so great. Sure she didn't feel like setting the whole place ablaze, but she didn't feel adult enough to own a house. She was just an anxious weirdo who does nothing but watches movies, drink milkshakes, and go to the beach.

And even going to the beach made her feel sick, because it was just a reminder of all her failures. Maybe it made her a child, but without her Moms around, encouraging her, she felt like all the weight of before was crashing back down on her.

But she still couldn't bear to tell them, or Dr. Baker, or anyone that's what she was really feeling. Instead, she just gave weird laughs and snarky jokes about how she hates living under their roof.

Well, she did, but she was regretting that now. Even if it made her a helpless stay-at-home shut-in, at least their roof felt safer.

Maggie moved in last week, but everything had been rocky. Her Moms stayed the first night to help unpack and organize and keep her company. But once her cat and her movie collection was settled, they let her be.

The only thing that made it better was the fact they didn't question her when she came over for dinner every night that week. Though, now it was Saturday night and she still felt lost in it all. Worse, it was Moms' date night so there was nowhere to run to.

Safe to say she sufficed on microwave pasta and distracting herself with a The Mummy marathon.

By 3 am, though, Maggie could barely sleep. She only saw fire and frustration burn behind her eyes. And what was worse was that when she opened them, everything she saw swept itself into her lungs and she felt like she could barely breathe.

She had been sedentary for a while now, wasting away in jobless anxiety, nowhere to go next. It wouldn't be long before the world began to erode her away.

&&&

#Dial 20 For Hermit Crabs #Anxiety Disorder #Maggie Caspen #Writing #YA Novel #Drama Novel #mental health representation #drama #romance #life after disorder

[wholesome-lesbiab]

hellow,i saw your post about finland being a land of drunk and depression. i'm heading to finland in a few months and have to do a field and desk research. i wanted to know what your opinions where in that case and why. have a wonderful day and thank you in advance.

Well I’m not gonna lie but the people in Finland really have serious tendencies of alcoholism and depression. I wasn’t even exaggerating when I made that post. I know it sounds bad and at this point I should maybe try to convince you otherwise but what can I say, I’m a Finn and I know my country. But then again, I’m yet another depressed Finn who drinks to her feelings so I might give a too grim description.

I have lived my 19 year old life in Finland, but three months ago I began my life in Ireland and I have come to realize how so much more depressing Finland is than I thought. I was baffled when total strangers came to talk to me with a smile on their face and asking how I was doing, or if I needed help. Once I was sitting in a bus and an old lady sat next to me and started chatting. Of course to a Finn like me, small talk can be uncomfortable but it felt nice when strangers don’t just glance at you, in a rude way or not, or just completely ignore you. That’s the Finnish way. In Finland we don’t talk to strangers. We don’t smile to them and if someone looks like they might need help, we ignore. I know, sounds horrible. I recall there was a news paper article few years back about an old man having a seizure or a heart attack or something in a shop and people around him just ignored him and didn’t call for help. (Not 100% sure). We just…. mind our own business I guess. So you can only imagine how startled I got when strangers here in Ireland started smiling to me and all that. So yeah, this is one reason, out of the many other reasons, why I think the people in Finland seem easily as depressed. It’s easy for foreigners who don’t know anything about Finland and the Finns come here and immediately be horrified of our little to no emotions, and thus make the assumption that we are all depressed. It’s another thing, not showing really any emotions. 

The dark, gloomy winter plays its part part, too. The days start getting darker pretty quickly after summer. In winter when you wake up to work/school, it’s pitch black, and when you come home, it’s already dark or getting darker. So you barely see any sunlight the whole day. When I was still in high school I used to stay after school to study for an hour or two. I usually left at 5- ish and it was pretty dark already. So the only sunlight I really saw was the one coming from windows at school hallways when I walked to another class. The classroom windows were always covered in curtains, so no sunlight for students I guess. My point is that winter times are the most “gloomy” times for a Finn. It’s no wonder, if you barely see any light for months. In northernmost Finland the sun doesn’t even rise above the horizon at all in the winter. (source) But it’s not only the darkness that makes us feel miserable. It’s the weather. In my personal opinion snow is absolutely beautiful, when I’m inside. I love looking at snowy landscapes and all that but I hate walking in the snow, especially when it’s up to your knees. We don’t have those kinda winters anymore in the south of Finland where I lived. Starting from couple of years ago we have had mostly rain  during winter instead of snow. And guess what’s raining in the summer? especially in midsummer? Snow. It was so depressing to wake up in the Christmas morning to see no snow in the ground. Instead the ground was all muddy and disgusting from the rain. We even have a Christmas song where it says “If snow doesn’t rain on Christmas, can Santa even come?” or something like that, I know, a poor translation, but you get my point. But the Finnish winter doesn’t feel like winter if there’s no snow to almost drown in. I miss those kind of winters. If you go to Lapland, there should be plenty of snow. Just quickly gonna mention that summers are horrible, too. Just constant rain, and sometimes as I said, snow.

I’m sorry, this is turning out a lot longer than I thought but I just have so much on this topic. Next on, the alcoholism. I personally can’t be bothered to start talking about the alcohol regulations because I’m not that educated in them, but about the drinking culture I can talk about. (I will try to keep this short) It’s socially acceptable to be drunk. Everyone kinda expects you to get wasted, or at least have a drink,  at a social gathering/party etc, at least from my own personal experience. We have a drink or two for pretty much any occasion, especially if we are in sauna. It’s incredibly satisfying to sit and sweat your ass off in a hot steamy sauna and drink a cold beer or cider, you gotta try it or else you can’t say that you ever even visited FInland. Anyways, It’s easy to fall off the wagon. At first you just drink something very light sometimes and suddenly you find yourself hammered every other day, or wishing you were which is pretty much my case.  What I’m saying is that I guess in Finland it’s easy to adopt these bad habits when it comes to drinking. And I think it’s pretty obvious but sadly it’s not that long way from alcoholism to death. When it’s midsummer, everybody gets drunk. The majority usually goes to celebrate it to their summer cottages, which happen to be near lakes. Some of them think it’s a good idea to go for a swim, or just fool around the lake, when you’re drunk. Every midsummer the death count is high. In 2017 it was 6. In 2016 it was 14. In 2015 it was 9. In 2010 it was 21. The reason for these deaths is not always drowning, it’s also drunk driving and fights. 

I think I should stop this here, not only because my work is starting soon but also because I don’t want to possibly frighten you anymore. But when you come to Finland, keep in mind that these are the “stereotypes”. Not every Finn is emotionless and secretly craves death and seek solace in a vodka bottle. Just a little tip: don’t small talk with a finn and dont greet them with a kiss or a hug when you see them. It’s incredibly uncomfortable for us, especially if you’re not close to the Finn. I feel like dying every time when I’m getting kisses or hugs here in Ireland. Also there’s no such thing as “awkward silence” in Finland. Most of us enjoy the silence. 

Again, this was from my own personal experience. Some other Finn from a different part of the country might disagree with some of these. (Would be glad to hear if any Finns reading this). Thanks for asking and i hope you really enjoy your stay in Finland. (Also I have to apologize, this was kinda rushed and probably incoherent but I guess I got my opinions out on this case pretty well)

Edit: wait, you did want my opinion on the case of depression and alcoholics in Finland and not about the field and desk research? Sorry it’s monday