#just like me europe is just one big country to my mother

[tungtung-thanawat]

memories are such a funny thing - i actually have no idea if i've been on the eurorail! like i know ive been to europe. i know ive travelled between countries in europe. i know ive been on a train in europe but was it the eurorail? it feels like ive been on the eurorail but that also might be because i watched dilwale dulhaniya le jayenge like 1000 times in my childhood

#questions only my father can answer #but he'll probably be like: yes you have!!! #and then it will turn out to be a trip he took to europe when i wasn't there #last week my parents were fighting over when my dad went to Sweden #“i promise it was sweden!!! this is a swedish blanket!!” #HAHAHAHAHA my parents are so funny for real #just like me europe is just one big country to my mother #nani's public personal diary

[haeggi]

the gift and the gifted | myg ✓

➔ pairing: top student!yoongi × top student!reader

➔ genres/warnings: highschool!au, christmas!au, holiday!au, romcom!au, rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, suggestive themes (but there's no smut, woops), also yoongi wears glasses bc my babie is so cute and hot when he wears one, lots of cussing prolly, some jokes may be offensive, reader and yoongi basically wants to strangle each other's necks bc yes.

➔ word count: 12.9k

➔ synopsis: you were always at the top; girls envied you and they aspired to be like you, and you got guys swooning at your feet. but there was always a particular individual who followed your footsteps. min yoongi. everywhere you were, he always shadowed you. he always came in second to you, and just like you, he also had become the primary cause of ladies getting diagnosed with erotomanias (metaphorically, of course). but everything crashes downhill when your roles are suddenly switched; he ends up at the top, and you below him. how messed up could that be?

or alternatively, christmas was just around the corner, and all it takes are the midterms (which will be a piece of cake to you) before the semester ends. however, the christmas news you receive that year was one of the worst gifts yet. let's say, it went catastrophic because the gift came in the form of min yoongi, your biggest rival.

notes: this is my first ever tumblr ff ajshssk. it's raw and unedited, so expect a lot of grammar mistakes.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

According to statistics of an unknown source, a lot of experts believe that the global population is composed of between 2% to 6% of gifted children. Such child prodigies are blessed with naturally high inborn intelligence. They perform significantly at complex levels compared to peers.

You belonged in the 2 to 6% of that category. At the fresh age of two, you were able to read novels that are typically for adolescents. You also already knew how to write children stories, your imaginations constantly spreading as if you were using a hex in your mind, expanding your thoughts into a whole new wide level.

Yes, that was indeed a Marvel reference.

Oh, you started watching the series by the time you were three, by the way. Whenever your parents kissed you goodbye to report to their jobs, you would bake pancakes while standing on a stool because you were still too tiny to reach the top of the kitchen counter. Afterwards, you would waddle into the living room, turn on the TV, and bask into a three-hour Marvel movie.

You would also laugh at the adult jokes that were made that even most adolescents wouldn't get, yet there you were, being a couch potato, sipping on maple syrups while giggling at the scenes.

And by the time you were four, you knew all your basic math. You could also spell complicated words already such as pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis (man, I literally had to copy-paste that from Google, smh). You also have memorized all the countries of Asia and Europe, and the parts of the human's and plants' cells—not just the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell basic and overused shit.

But most importantly, you definitely had attitude problems. You had a blunt tongue and a sharp wit.

"I don't want to go to school," your five-year-old-self whined burying your small head further into the pillow. "I don't need to," you add, muffled.

"Honey," your mother sighed, inviting herself in your bedroom. She knew how much you despised it whenever someone crossed your personal space, yet you were too whine-y to even fight your mother. "I know that, but you still need to. The world is too big for everything to fit in your brain—"

"Are you calling me small?" you grimaced, exhuming your head from the pillow and whipping it at your mom's direction. "Mom, you know how much I'm sensitive when it comes to my height!"

"Yes, dear, I apologize—"

"I don't wanna hear it, mom! My decision is final, I don't wanna go to kindergarten!" you yelled, albeit your voice was muffled because you stuffed your face into your pillow again.

"Kindergarten?" your mother repeated. "Y/N, I never said anything about enrolling you to kindergarten. I was planning to apply for your acceleration for elementary—"

"Mmmooommmm!" you groaned, almost sounding like a wolf, but to your beloved mother, you just sounded like a pup. "Leave me alone, please! I know my geometry, I can solve the area of a rectangle, a square, a decagon. Even a gazillion-gon or whatever! And I know how to use similes, metaphors, hyperboles, and ironies!"

"Clearly," your mother muttered under her breath. "With how sharp your tongue is, I'm not even surprised."

The woman flinched when a soft piece of fluff landed before her feet. It was one of your stuff toys, Mr. Bear-able.

She resisted the urge to massage her temples, catching what her daughter was implying. "Alright, fine. I'll leave you alone. But if you ever change your mind, tell me."

"I don't do do overs, mom," you retorted, suddenly having the appetite to get out of bed. You waddle towards your desk, plopping on the seat with your back turned to your mother. "Now, if you excuse me, I have a lot to do."

"Of course," your mother responded. "Come down for dinner at seven. Don't. Be. Late," she warned.

"Yes, mother," you stressed the last word.

Hearing the door shut close, you released a sigh of relief, finally grateful for the time of peace.

But, unfortunately, for gifted children, peace was a state they rarely achieved.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

Ten years later, you are now enduring the third year of high school. And ten years ago, you swore to yourself that you wouldn't step foot into a school. Ever. Yet here you were, standing in the middle of the hallway, flooded with lots of people your age. Jocks and cheerleaders mostly flocked the lockers, some of which are busy slamming each other against each one, their faces all over each other.

It was a disgusting sight to you, but you are used to it now. You know not to pry into their business and scream at them to stop the eff out. One, because you were simply lazy—or rather, conserving energy is the right term. Second, they weren't worth your precious time.

Yes, it was your third year in high school, but also it was only your third time attending school because for the last seven years, you had been cooped up within the four walls of your bedroom. You never stepped foot out the door, except when you ate. You were either sleeping, writing, or just aimlessly scrolling on Twitter and Tiktok.

It had gotten to the point where your mother barged into the room with your father following her like a lost puppy, because he didn't want to deal with you because he was either 1) really, really afraid of you or 2) he just didn't really want to deal with an untamed animal that was in the form of you. Yet, he followed your mother to your room because 1) he was definitely still more afraid of his wife more than of his daughter and 2) he probably wants to witness your demise.

And you did get your demise. You got an earful from your mother. She had confiscated your phone, pulled you out of your room and locked the door. She was getting sick of you acting around as if you were the boss. As if you were the adult.

Yeah, you definitely had (still have, by the way) attitude problems.

And the only condition that your mother had so that you could gain access back to your room and phone is if you enrolled at school, got a degree, and a decent job.

So here you were, in the very hellhole you didn't want to end up in.

On the bright side, you are still a gifted child, and hell did you demolished everyone in your path. Academically, of course. Consistently, you were the overall top one of your batch from first year to second year. You were always the top scorer in examinations. You were also literally destroying your teachers' careers, which basically made almost everyone love you. Almost.

You got guys begging for your attention, wanting to take you out on dates. You also got girls envying you, wanting to be you. And also, of course, you had haters.

And most significantly, you had competition.

He was always there, wherever you were. You were on the list of top scorers, and underneath your name, just right next to it, was his name printed. You were the overall top one, and below you, just beside you, was his name written.

You were the first, and he always came in second.

Your eyes were literally burning in crimson when you saw him entering your line of sight. His jet black hair was neatly styled as usual, his pale skin was glowing underneath the fluorescent lights, his eyes were adorned with round-rimmed glasses, accentuating his clever ambience further.

It made your blood boil; the way he was just calmly walking through the crowd of students. He didn't even make an effort passing through the bodies because people made way for him. Of course, they would. He is the fucking student council president, for hell's sake!

Your arms are crossed, still staring him down as he greeted and bowed to those who smiled at him. Oh, how badly you wanted to rip his mouth off of his face and smack it to the first girl you see because she would definitely pay you at least ten years worth of your life, then you can finally ditch school, maybe disappear off the surface of the map and enjoy a life of solitude in probably an abandoned island, sipping on mojito, or maybe the mountains to enjoy the fresh air of nature because the air down there smelled like pieces of shit—

"Y/N," he singsongs, his gravelly voice reaching your ears.

You didn't notice that you had been standing at the middle of the hallway for quite a long time now because he, along with a few of the other student council members trailing behind him, was now in front of you. You notice everyone's eyes are on you two. Everyone knew of the rivalry you two have. And you also knew that they are totally anticipating a war to happen.

"Yoongi," you say, your tone honeyed with a hint of passive-aggressiveness.

"How was your weekend?" he asks, tilting his head slightly.

Oh, he is definitely enjoying the attention. Just so you wait, I will rip your fakeass smile—

"It was okay!" you chirp, faking a laugh. "I hope yours was too."

Yoongi hums, fixing his glasses that had slightly slid down, exposing his feline eyes for a fleeting moment. "Fortunately, it went more than okay to me," he says with a pompous smile.

Your verbose response is a forced smile, hoping that he will take the hint that he will leave you alone now, because you knew what he was referencing to. The recent weekend, both of your families had dinner together. Unfortunately for you, your parents and his parents are very well-acquainted with each other. Mr. and Mrs. L/N, and Mr. and Mrs. Min's relationship was founded through a business partnership. Despite that, the relationship between the four adults ensued into a deeper level.

Alas, the same couldn't be said with the two offsprings. While their parents considered each other close friends, you and Yoongi acknowledged the other as each other's nemesis.

Everything between you and him always ended up to become a competition. A competition to see who gets on the other's nerves the quicker.

That was why on that particular Saturday night, in a fancy restaurant booked by Yoongi's parents, underneath the rectangular marbled table, you used the advantage of wearing heels that time to sink one of your stilettos on one of his leather shoes when he taunted you. Afterwards, he made a scene, instantly pointing a finger at you when his mother worriedly asked what happened. You promptly defended yourself, saying that it was an accident and that you didn't notice his foot immediately. Then, your beloved mother scolded you in front of them to be more careful because it was bad manners; and that you should act like a proper lady in a five-star Michelin restaurant.

Luckily, he starts to leave you, but only after making up an excuse. "Well, I'm a bit late with my duties, I can't waste time any longer. So, I'll see you later."

He attempts to walk past you, but you had enough time to recover from his pettish outro. As he takes the first steps, you mislead him by moving aside. Then, you slide your foot forwards, miniscule. You watch as his own bumps into yours and in a span of a second, he trips, albeit he regains his balance quickly to your dismay. You almost pouted since he didn't meet the floor with his face.

His calm composure cracks a tiny bit, his eye twitching as he looks at you, his expression now displaying irk. He expected everyone else to look at you as if you were the culprit, but unfortunately, for his part, no one noticed because it is too crowded in the hallway for anyone to catch what you did. Instead, they all had their gazes at him. Some of them awkwardly smiled, while others began to whisper.

Nevertheless, Yoongi ignores them. He stands up straight, fixing the collar of his shirt before waltzing away with his group trailing behind. Unlike earlier, he was tramping, eager to flee the scene and rendering you into a fit of hushed and inconspicuous giggles.

Not today, Snow White. Not today.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

You are stuck in another hour of a boring lesson. You lazily spin a pencil around your fingers, with one hand supporting the weight of your chin as you stare outside the window of your classroom, observing the varsity soccer players attempting to score goals.

You unconsciously snicker when one of the players falls on the grass, catching the attention of your math teacher. It took two calls of your name before you faced her, scowling when she says, "Since you seem so confident, not listening to my discussion, will you please be so kind to solve this on the board?"

You raise an eyebrow, looking at her as if saying 'Are you serious?' The teacher doesn't falter, however, and you sigh vexatiously, standing up from your seat and idly ambling across the aisle. You feel the stares of your classmates piercing at your back but you don't waver. Upon reaching the front, you take the marker from your teacher, whose face was still etched into a frown at the behavior you are showing.

You solve the polynomial equation with ease, not even pausing to think. And when you encircled your final answer and turned to return your teacher's marker, she was gaping at you. Smirking in victory, she tells you to return to your seat. And for the rest of the lecture, she doesn't bother you anymore.

After school, you went straight out of the campus, as if the air inside the building had been suffocating you that you even release a long sigh of relief. Frankly, you thought that you had wasted another day because you didn't learn anything new from any of your subjects. All that was discussed, you already know those concepts since you were ten years old.

And now, you wanted to throw a tantrum at your mother when you get home.

You head for the gates of the campus, and as if you didn't have enough on your plate, a car comes revving near you, and before you knew it, it blocks your path, making you abruptly halt your steps. You instantly recognize the model of the vehicle. The driver's door opens and a familiar black bob of hair is revealed. You don't even try to hide your irritation when Yoongi approaches you.

"Get in the car," he demands, opening the passenger door right in front of you.

You don't listen. Instead, you comment, "Nice calculations there. Which theorem did you apply that made the passenger's door end up in front of my face? Show me your scratch papers."

He rolls his eyes, clearly not having your shit. "My mom called me and told me that your mom told her to tell me that I'm dropping you off at your house because your mom is worried that you'll be off somewhere else again and cause trouble, so she wants to make sure that you're not going to do anything stupid again—"

"Hold your horses, Eminem." You flail your hands in front of him. "First of all, drop the your mom tongue twister. Second, I'm not coming with you. Who knows? You might be plotting my death. And third, stop talking to me because people might think that we're friends."

Without waiting for Yoongi's response, you swaggered around his Hyundai Sonata, heading for the campus gates. Relief washes over you when you don't hear the annoying honking of his car. He had left you alone for now.

Besides, how worse could your day get any further?

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

Your bag drops to the floor once you have registered the sight of your mother guffawing at a joke he said. They were both too occupied in their conversation that they only sensed your presence when you make a beeline for the stairs.

"Y/N," your mother calls, and you stop in your tracks, one foot mid-air. You curse lowly, not being able to even make it for the first tread.

You put on the fakest smile you could muster, making sure that it was discernible that you didn't want to have to do anything with the two most exasperating persons in the room.

"Aren't you gonna join Yoongi and I for snacks?" she says, rendering you to fist your hand. It took a lot of strength from you not to swing a punch at the said male. He was clearly enjoying this. He absolutely knew that you were getting reprimanded again once he leaves the premise.

Your smile twitches, almost cracking but you stay firm. "Sure, I will. Mother." You deliberately stressed the last word. A warning gaze is given to you by your mother.

Smirking lightly, you don't tiptoe anymore, seeing that it was useless. You pull the chair across where Yoongi sat, purposely making the wood screech against the floor. Your mother winces slightly that made you smile triumphantly.

As if nothing had transpired, your mother began to speak. "So, Yoongi here told me that you refused to get a lift from him. You do know that that's basic manners."

"Yes, and you told me not to accept anything from strangers," you deadpan. Your mother's eyes widen in horror, instantly sending Yoongi an apologetic gaze.

"Oh, Yoongi, I'm so sorry about my daughter. I think she meant that she didn't want to a burden to you."

Yoongi waves his hand, a cheeky smile painted on his lips. "It's alright, Mrs. L/N. I get what you mean. I absolutely understand where Y/N is coming from."

Your head was beginning to ache from the exchange that was occurring between the two people you weren't entirely fond of. Before your mother could respond to your nemesis, you cut in.

"Why is he even here, mom?" you demand. Your mother chuckles awkwardly, looking back and forth between you and your enemy.

"Well," she starts. "Your midterms are nearing alongside the weather that is starting to cool off. I invited Yoongi so that you two could study together and maybe consider this as a bonding moment for the two of you—"

You don't let her finish, abruptly standing up from your seat, already shooting daggers at the woman who birthed you.

"Mom, I don't need a study buddy. I can clearly study fine on my own. In fact, I don't need to because I know everything and I assure you that I will ace my midterms just like I've had for the past two years."

Mrs. L/N frowns at your response. "Y/N, if you please, will you stop with the bratty attitude? We have a guest and the least you can do is act accordingly!"

You are certain that your blood had reached its boiling point. "No!" you raise your tone, unbothered by the fact that your rival is literally witnessing the argument that is transpiring right now. What irked you more was that he is probably enjoying the scene unfolding before him. "You're just doing all of these because you know how much I despite it! I hate it, mom. And I absolutely harbor all of the ill feelings you can name towards him!" You point at Yoongi, who is calmly watching you with an unreadable expression on his face.

As far as you know, only your parents knew that you loathed Yoongi. That was why you were always comfortable expressing it even in their presence. But whenever his parents were at the scene, that was when you could control your temper, and suppress your irritations, which is why now, you were exploding once again.

"Y/N—!"

"I'm not hearing it," you proclaim, already making way towards the stairs. "Chit-chat with him for all I care. Just leave me be."

You stomp upstairs, making sure you slam your bedroom door shut. Smoke was literally smothering out of yours ears and nostrils as you grabbed the nearest book you had from your shelf and throw it with all your might at the other end of your room. Then, you march towards your bed, falling on it face-first and releasing your screams, muffled by your pillows.

You are so angry and infuriated, mentally wrecking Yoongi with all the curses you could think of. After what seemed like hours of disparaging him in the form of talking to your long-time best friend, Mr. Bear-able, you feel your throat become dry. It is parched and you feel the need to gulp down a gallon of water with how much saliva you used.

Annoyed that you had to leave the comfort of your room to get a glass of water downstairs, you wonder if Yoongi had already left. You check outside, raising the blinds of your window. Then, you grimace, seeing the familiar vehicle parked in front of your house.

Why was that son of a half-troll still here?

You really didn't want to go down and see him, but your throat was literally begging for your thirst to be quenched. You try to weigh the pros and cons, with the cons definitely outweighing the former, but you were still too thirsty. It was sending you to the brim of annoyance so you had no choice but to step out of your room.

Your ears try to hear for movements and conversations, but when you don't, you thought that maybe they were in the backyard. You sigh in relief, albeit too early because when your feet touched the floor of the first floor of your house, you almost lost your balance upon seeing the devil himself standing by the stairs' handrails. The balusters did the job of concealing him because his face is already adorned with a smirk.

"Why the fuck are you here?" you demand. "Where's mom?"

"Out," Yoongi simply answers, sipping on his iced Americano.

"Why?" You cross your arms, raising an incredulous eyebrow at him.

"She felt bad about your tantrum—" he explains nonchalantly. "—so, she insisted to take-out dinner."

"Why didn't you just come with her? That would save us both the case of fighting—"

"I offered to stay and look after you in case something happens, although your mom was still really worried for me in case you might pull something against me. But I assured her that I would be fine." He blinks as if his response was a normal one.

However, you don't buy it, narrowing your eyes and taking a defiant step closer to him. "What are you scheming this time? Wasn't it enough for you that you got to witness me getting reprimanded?"

Yoongi doesn't seem affected because he stands his ground, his eyes reciprocating the determined gaze you were giving him.

He doesn't answer you, and he breaks your eye-contact, looking at something behind you.

"Hey, I asked you a question—"

"It's snowing," he cuts you off.

Mildly confused and musing a what, you turn around to check what he was looking at. And then you see the first fall of snow of the year. Immediately, you feel the chilly breeze of winter prick your skin.

Eyebrows still furrowed, you only move when Yoongi scurries off towards the heater, turning it on. After a few seconds, the cold that you instantly felt is replaced by warmth. Still, you were on edge, because Yoongi was acting really... weird.

You watch him with judgment in your eyes as he makes his way towards the dining room. That's when you see study materials sprawled on the table; Stabilo highlighters with their caps off, arrow sticky notes pasted on top of pages of the textbooks, reviewers spread all throughout the space of the table. He had been clearly studying for midterms. You were disturbed that he had shamelessly claimed territory on your dining room.

You feel the bile crawling up your throat, you are cognizantly displeased at the way Yoongi was acting. You march towards the room, where he was busy organizing his notes.

"Hey!" you squawked. "Will you stop walking around as if this is your house?! And... can you stop that? You're acting weird..." you trail off when Yoongi doesn't even snap at you. He only looks at you as if you were the strange one in the room.

You roll your eyes, opting to get your glass of water from the kitchen instead. If the damn bitch won't respond to you properly then you won't bother to waste your time.

Closing the refrigerator, with one hand holding the pitcher, you jump the second time that day, caught off-guard by your rival standing behind the door of the refrigerator.

"Jesus Christ, Yoongi!" you yell. "I will literally smack you in the face with this pitcher!"

"Huh," he muses. "That's really weird."

"What?" you say in disbelief. "Don't call me weird when between us, you're the one that's acting weird. Fucking leave me alone, for fuck's sake."

"Yeah, exactly." He remains unfazed by your threats. "Strangely, I don't feel anything towards you right now."

"Of course you don't," you scoff. "You hate me. Hello? Have you suddenly become stupid or something?"

Seemingly lost in thought, Yoongi replies, "No, I mean like I literally don't feel anything right now towards you. I don't feel like I hate you right now—"

"Yes, I hear you. Now can you shut the fuck— wait what?" You pause and do a double take on what he just said.

What did he say? That he doesn't hate me right now?

"Look, I don't know what the fuck it is your scheming right now, but I just want to tell you to drop your crap, because I don't believe a single word you're uttering right now," you say, pouring water on a glass. You take a sip before resuming. "Stop saying bullshit, because I won't fall for it."

"I'm not telling you bull right now." He raises both of his hands in surrender. "Ugh, whatever. You probably have the mental capacity of a lizard for you to understand even if I explain—"

"Take that back right now," you threaten him. "Have you forgotten that you always come second to me? Don't get too cocky, you still don't know who you're messing with. It's been three years, you should know now that you can't beat me."

"Whatever you say so, Megamind." He fixes his glasses before returning to the dining room. You warily watch him go back to studying before you climb up back into your room.

Even though you were already inside, you still felt uneasy because of how peculiar Yoongi acted just a few minutes ago.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

The gray cement road is replaced with the ivory snow, concealing everything underneath it. It's now the month of November, which meant that your parents are busy preparing for the holidays. That also meant that you had to help them too to your dismay.

You are sitting on your house's porch, a stick in your hand while doodling on the snow. Meanwhile, your father is occupied in attaching the Christmas lights on the gutters of your roof.

He calls your name, and you oblige. You step foot out into the snow weather, bits of frost coating your hair. You crane your neck up the ladder.

"Can you pass me the other string of lights?" he requests, pointing at the said lights sprawled on the snow. You grab it off the floor, taking the end of it. You spin it like a lasso before unleashing it towards your father, who catches it with ease. He laughs, "Nice one!"

You roll your eyes before returning to your earlier position. You begin to scribble again as your mind wanders off somewhere else.

For the past few weeks, you had noticed that something became different. And it was all because of a particular person who was supposed to be the hell of your life. Instead, it seems like he had now become pacified, and he decided that you weren't worth his time anymore.

A part of you feels extremely offended and infuriated because you feel that Yoongi doesn't see you as a menace anymore; that he was now confident that he can easily defeat you; that he doesn't see you as a competition anymore. Another of your part feels concerned and peculiar—as if something is missing. You don't feel the adrenaline pulsating through your veins anymore whenever you saw Yoongi.

When you crossed paths, he would only give you a smile of acknowledgement and then leave before you could even tell him a snarky comment.

Oddly, it was affecting you more than it should be. You were starting to think that maybe this was one of his tactics for you to get distracted. If it was, it was unfortunately working, and you were getting vexed as each day passed by.

You wanted Yoongi to lash out on you. You wanted to feel his anger radiating towards you. You wanted him to feel threatened. You wanted to be the one with the upper hand.

But instead, you were feeling none of those from him. It was rendering you to madness because even though you wanted to deny it so bad, you couldn't get him out of your mind.

And maybe, just maybe, you thought that something different was also brewing inside you.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

November flew by in a blur and before you even knew it, you only had two weeks before midterms. You and your mother were busy setting up the Christmas tree. She was busy handing you the ornaments and garlands, and directing you where to place them.

"There," your mother says. "A little bit up. Nope, down. Nevermind, put it up again."

You groan in annoyance. "Mom, can you please make up your mind? My arms are starting to sore."

She gives you a sheepish smile from below. You feel goosebumps pricking your skin, disturbed by your mother's expression. It was the first time you saw that kind of smile from her.

"You're creeping me out," you say.

"Oh, it's nothing," your mother tells you. "It's just... recently I've noticed how you seem at peace now unlike before. It's nice..." she hesitates a bit but when she sees you only looking at her and listening intently, she finds the courage to express to you, "It's nice that we're finally having a mother-and-daughter bonding experience since... I don't know, maybe since you were one?"

You laugh. You actually laugh genuinely at what she says. You climb down the ladder, dusting your hands on your sweater. Peace. A word that its meaning which you know, but don't know what it feels. It is a foreign feeling and peculiar. Only then when your mother notices it you realize that maybe that was the right word you were looking for to describe your interiority right now.

But as soon as you take cognizance of it, your mother crashes it when she lets you know the news.

"Yoongi's family is having dinner with us on the Eve," she informs you, and your smile stiffens. "I expect that you'll be on your best behavior."

She looks at you expectantly, and it was enough to let her know that you aren't fond of the idea because you say,

"I'd rather be a Christmas feast to a cat, honestly."

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

"To be honest, I'd rather feast on a mouse, mom," Yoongi says when his mother informs him their plan for the evening of Christmas Eve.

She laughs heartily. "Why would you say that, dear? Is it because of Y/N? Are you still uptight around her because of her gift?"

Yoongi shudders at the mere mention of your name for some unknown reason that he couldn't decipher. He denies it, shaking his head.

Then, her mother's eyes sparkled. She leans forward and whispers, "Then... have you gotten fond of her? You seem to be more nervous than before, Yoongi. Whenever we spend time with the L/Ns, you always seem so determined, and you look forward to spend time with their family. Why do you seem so uneasy now?"

"Err, it's not that, mom." Yoongi tries to distract himself by sipping on his iced Americano, but that doesn't ease his nerves. He regrets ordering his usual drink on the cold season because his shivering is amplified. "It's just... midterms' soon, and I'm just stressed, I guess."

"Stressed?" His mother repeats. "That's the first time I've heard that word from you, dear."

"Is it?" Yoongi chuckles awkwardly.

Mrs. Min emits another lighthearted laugh. "Yoongi, I know you more than anyone else. Don't even deny it, you have taken quite a liking for the L/Ns' daughter, haven't you?"

Yoongi gapes at his mother's proclamation. He immediately shakes his head vehemently. "Mom, that's ridiculous. Of course, I haven't. She hates me." At the last sentence, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. But his bitter tone doesn't come unnoticed to his mother.

"Does she?" she innocently asks.

"Yeah." Yoongi sighs, pressing his lips into a thin line that resembled a bracket. It was a habit of his whenever he feels displeased. "She hates the mere sight of me, mom. And we compete for the first place, every time. She hates the fact that I'm always second to her because she's threatened that I might overthrow her anytime! It's annoying to be honest. But now, I'll just let her have her way. I'm just going to focus on studying for midterms. She's not worth my time, anyway."

Of course he was half-lying. He wanted nothing more but to continue this rivalry you two had. But these days, he had been in conflict with his inner self. He didn't want you having your way, he wanted to conquer you. But also, another side of him is troubling him. He didn't want to continue fighting you any longer for some reason. Yoongi doesn't know if he simply got tired of it or if it was because of something else that he couldn't pinpoint.

Either way, he didn't want to interact with you for the mean time. He had to figure whatever the shit was happening to his brain. Had he finally lost it?

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

You were serene as usual when midterms ended. You can't help but feel pride swelling on your chest as you listened to your classmates' complaints and sighs of regrets because they had a lot harder time getting through each question of the exams than you did.

But somehow, there was something missing; the thrill. Your mind wanders to your nemesis, wondering how he did in his exams.

When you were all dismissed, the hallways are instantaneously filled with students, celebrating their triumphs and the fact that they were now free from school. Instinctively, you try the look for a familiar midget with black bob hair and round-rimmed glasses.

And when you do see him, a smirk makes its way to your lips. You march confidently to his way. He doesn't notice your presence until you blocked his way, causing him to look up from his phone to acknowledge you.

"Hey, Potter," you drawl, playing with the ends of your hair. He rolls his eyes at the nickname you call him.

"What do you want?" he straightly gets to the point. You raise an eyebrow, a bit caught off-guard by his question.

That was a good one because yeah, what the hell did you want? Why did you approach him in the first place?

Yoongi unintentionally saves you from the embarrassment. His feline eyes narrow and he smugly smiles. "Oh, are you concerned about how I did well in my exams? Are you perhaps... threatened?"

You scowl, pointing a finger at him. "Don't get so brazen. I'm just here to tell you not to feel too self-assured. I know what you've been up to lately. You've been trying to distract me by not acknowledging my presence for the past few weeks. You think that that's all it takes for me to back down? Nah-uh. Nice try, Yoongi, but try harder."

"Oh?" He raises an eyebrow, fascinated at your assumptions. "So, that's what you've been presuming." Then, he shrugs, "Look, doll, I don't know where such thoughts of yours suddenly came from, but I'm just saying that that sounds like a you problem. I'm not doing anything, but it seems like you're turning into one of them, having delusions about me."

You cringe and sneer. "You can't be serious, Yoongi. Now, you're the delusional one!" The way he was smirking victoriously made you want to slap the mocking smile off of his face.

You decide to end the interaction, curtly pivoting on your heels and strutting away from Yoongi, whose piercing eyes never left your figure until you disappeared from his line of sight.

In the back of his mind, he is contemplating. He ponders if you were right. For the first time in his lifetime, he was considering what you said.

Meanwhile, you were stomping on piles of snows. You were furious at the lack of energy Yoongi was showing you. He really seemed like he didn't give a damn anymore about you. He was so laid-back and relaxed and that made your confidence dwindle a bit, wondering what had he pulled from his sleeves.

Your mood remains sour the whole time you walked home. People who passed by you probably thought that you were releasing dragon breaths if not for the freezing weather.

You were basically tramping on the floor of your living room, immediately catching the attention of your mother, who scampers out of the kitchen to check out the commotion. She sees you muttering incoherent words to yourself and you only stop when she gets your attention.

"Did something happen, Y/N?" she questions. "Why are you in a sour mood? Did something happen with your exams?"

"No, mom!" you immediately answer. "In fact, I aced the exams, I'm certain! You don't need to worry about anything. It's just that—" you abruptly stop. Your mother looks at you, waiting for you to continue but you don't.

Frankly, you're confused yourself, suddenly wondering why were you so worked up. You didn't have to worry about anything, you were a hundred percent confident that you did outstandingly in your exams.

"Y/N?" Your mother's voice pulls you out of your trance.

"It's nothing!" you exclaim. "Just tired. I'm going to my room, if you don't mind." You start going up the stairs. "Call me if you need help." Your voice echoes in the first floor.

Mrs. L/N blinks, finding your behavior strange lately. Yet, she shrugs it off and goes back to working in the kitchen.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

"Y/N, please stop harassing the carrots," your mother says. "They did nothing to you."

You stop cutting the vegetable, noticing that indeed, the whole carrot was now mashed. You sigh, not realizing that you've been cutting angrily.

"If you're not in the mood, I can cook myself. You can go on and set the table instead."

You don't argue, abandoning the knife and mashed carrots before making way towards the cabinets where your mother kept the utensils for special occasions.

It was finally the day of your impending doom. Christmas Eve. Dinner with the Min family, and honestly, you didn't know what to feel. The last time Yoongi visited was when you and your mother had an argument right in front of him. It was also the day everything changed. You wonder if the argument that transpired traumatized him, rendering him to madness. Or maybe he was diagnosed with a disorder.

There I go again. Why the hell am I even thinking about him? Focus at the task at hand, Y/N—

You reach out for the stack of plates but one of them slips from your grasp, clattering and breaking on the floor. Your mother jumps, and she starts to scold you as you bent down and picked up the broken pieces.

"Y/N, seriously, what is going on with you?" she exclaims. "You've been so out of it!"

You sigh, fluttering your eyes close for a moment. When you open them, you wince, suddenly feeling blood rushing towards your index finger. You look down and see rivulets of ruby spilling out of your skin.

Mrs. L/N notices your trance and she follows your gaze. Her eyes widen and she gasps, instantly ushering you to rinse your wound and put a band aid on it.

You obey, grabbing the opportunity of ephemeral peace. In the bathroom, you dab the small laceration with Betadine, before wrapping it up with a band aid. Then, your ears register the sound of muffled voices coming from the other side of the door.

It didn't take you long to realize that the Min family has entered your residence. And that meant, Yoongi was also here. Your last interaction with him was at the school hallway, where you two had a small argument about which one of you was the delusional one. It was an awkward one, to be honest. It didn't feel like your previous fights.

You slap your forehead with your wounded hand, wincing and mentally cursing yourself because of your stupidity. It was ironic, to be frank. You were gifted with an incredible high IQ, but your EQ was equivalently low.

After a few minutes of attempts to calm yourself down, you finally step out of the bathroom, sauntering towards the living room to make your presence known. Mrs. Min acknowledges you, giving you a peck in the cheek. You awkwardly stand before her as she compliments your crown braid hairstyle and the baby blue turtleneck dress that you wore, matched with a pair of flats because you didn't do well in heels in cold weathers.

Her attention pans towards your father, greeting him with the same enthusiasm and you finally felt like you could breathe. But that's when you see him too.

Yoongi is standing in the sidelines, observing the interaction between the four adults. He is obviously avoiding your eyes but you don't notice it, of course. He could literally feel your burning stare on him that he was starting to feel his legs buckle.

However, all those went over your head. You pay heed on his outfit. He didn't seem... too bad. You acknowledge that he has a sense of fashion. He is wearing a pair of beige slacks, complimenting his skin tone. The black leather belt that hugged his waist is a contrast to his white button up long sleeve, a cream-colored knitted vest resting on top of it.

When you look at his eyes, you find him already staring at you. Clearly, he had completely failed avoiding at looking at you. You two continued to have a staredown when Mrs. Min calls the attention of the two of you.

"Y/N, Yoongi! Take your seats. Let's bless the food and eat!"

After dinner, the four adults in the room began to chat with the company of champagne and whiskey. Meanwhile, you and Yoongi were tasked to do the dishes. So, as much as to your disappointment, you were stuck with him. He soaps the dishes while you rinsed them. The situation was awkward because you two were enveloped in a uncomfortable silence. The only sources of sound between you were the voices and laughters coming from the living room.

Earlier, your mother had warned you to be in your best behavior for the umpteenth time, and you don't even fight her on it because 1) you didn't have the energy to engage in a war anyways and 2) Min Yoongi had been passive so you actually had no reason to go into a fit of rage. But still, there is a slight disappointment in you because of the lack of interaction you were having with the said boy.

It was like he had gone mute. To you, it's irksome but also, you were starting to feel concerned. However, your pride was more essential to you, so you don't ask Yoongi what has been bothering him lately because 1) he's your nemesis, you aren't supposed to care for his well-being and 2) it might be a part of his grandmaster plan of plotting your demise.

After drying your hands, you don't bother to wait for Yoongi. Passing by the adults in the living room, you silently exit through the front door to get some fresh air.

As if finally freeing yourself from constriction, you inhale the scent of snowflakes and exhale through your nose, an icy breath leaving your lips. You don't notice the front door opening once again. You don't notice the pair of footsteps padding against the soft snow. You only notice it when the footsteps stop beside you.

You turn your head slightly and see Yoongi, who's looking straight ahead. Cautiously, you take a step to your right to increase the distance between you two.

He notices instantly because he scoffs, "I'm not going to bite you."

"I was just making sure," you reason out. "Why are you here, anyway? Did your mom tell you to? You can drop the act now."

He looks at you in disbelief. "I didn't come out here because I was told to. I came here on my own accord."

You frown. "You're legit scaring me now. Will you stop it already?"

This time, Yoongi doesn't let his gaze leave your face. He is intently looking at you, as if scrutinizing every movement you made. Instinctively, you tuck your chin inside the collar of your turtleneck, hoping that it would shield you from his piercing eyes. It doesn't work out.

"I'm not doing anything, Y/N," he says calmly. "It's you who's overthinking—"

"Oh, stop!" You wave your hands at him. "I'm not stupid, Yoongi. You thought I wouldn't notice the way you're acting differently around me now? You don't seem to have that fiery eyes on me every time we talked. It's sickening, almost like you're mocking me."

A silence envelops the two of you, and you feel your cheeks reddening, partly because of the cold but mostly because of the boy who stood beside you.

"You know," he finally speaks. "It's not that difficult to admit to yourself that you missed me."

This time, you have the strength and courage to actually look at him dead in the eyes. "Are you planning to major in slapstick comedy? Because if yes, then I say go for it. Undoubtedly, you'll be the valedictorian just like you always dream of."

He snickers, tilting his head lightly as he reciprocates your incandescent gaze. "You're funny," he tells you.

"See?!" you exclaim. "This is what I mean! Why aren't you arguing back?" You stomp your foot.

He blinks, finding your question dumb. "Because I simply don't want to?" he answers albeit unsure of it himself.

You cross your arms and emit a scoff. "Sure, you do."

"Look," Yoongi starts. "If you're expecting me to argue with you, I won't. I already told you before, a few months ago, I don't abhor you as much as I do before."

"Why?" you ask and this time, he scoffs.

"Why?" he repeats. "For a person like you with immensely high IQ, you suck at reading the room."

Before you could protest, he interrupts you, making sure that your attention was only on him. He takes two steps towards you, decreasing the distance between your bodies.

"Y/N, I may be the bad guy but I'm not a bad guy," he says. "To be honest with you, I, myself, am confused too. I don't strongly loathe you these past few months and I've been questioning myself why either. But—"

He stops and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"What happened to your finger?"

His question catches you off-guard, rendering you to caress the covered part of your skin. You flinch slightly when he holds your hand, raising it to get a proper look on it. His face scrunches and for the first time, you feel something somersaulting in your stomach. You didn't know if you liked it or not, but it was certainly making you feel discomfort.

When you start to feel overwhelmed, you pulled away from his touch, placing your hand to your chest. "I-I'm fine," you stammer.

"Are you sure?" he worriedly asks.

"Yes, I am!" You didn't mean to yell at him but you couldn't help it. He has been making you feel lots emotion. He was confusing you, and the more and more time you were out here with him, the more you were driving to madness.

"You know," he smirks. "If you could stop yelling at me for a second, I could show you much more fun and productive uses for that mouth of yours."

You gape at him, and you start walking backwards when he begins to take defiant steps closer to you. Every time you stepped back, he takes one towards you too. As your back hits the cold exterior walls of your house, you gasp lightly when Yoongi encages you between the walls and his arms, his hands falling on either side of you.

Light snow pelted on both of you but that isn't the reason why you flinch. The reason is because he leans close, increasing the proximity of your faces.

"Yoongi—" you begin to protest but he doesn't let you.

His forehead touches yours and you yelped slightly at the way he is treating you right now. His eyes flutter shut and he speaks in low manner that had you trembling in your position.

"Y/N, you're absolutely driving me crazy," he murmurs. "Like I said, I'm so confused too. My heart and mind are clouded because lately, you've been occupying my thoughts. I loathe the way you bewitch me whenever you use your sharp tongue against me. I despise how you can easily get under my nerves but also it satisfies me whenever you attempt to put me in my place, when you give me a taste of my own medicine."

He pauses, fluttering his eyes open. He leans away slightly, the warmth emanated from his forehead leaving you instantly.

"There is no other plausible explanation for this except for the possibility that... I have been harboring feelings for you for quite awhile now, Y/N." He exhales softly, as if a huge weight has been finally lifted off of his shoulders. "And it's not what you're thinking of. It's the opposite of it."

The world stops for a moment, the snowflakes stop falling, and the time stops ticking. You only hear his soft breaths that had never sounded so calm up until this moment.

"I like you, Y/N." He shows you a coy smile. "And right now, I'm surrendering to you. You can continue to hate me if you want, but it won't change my feelings for you."

Your heart is hammering against your chest wildly, and you only hope that Yoongi isn't hearing how loudly it was beating against your ribcage. As the silence between you two continues to prolong, the harder it was for you to formulate a coherent response.

A buzzing sound slices the still atmosphere and you usher Yoongi to check his phone. He does, sighing in dismay. You warily watch him as he opens his messaging app. You awkwardly stand before him as he scrolls through his chats.

His expression morphs into perturbation. The lump that had formed in his throat getting harder to swallow. You notice his adam's apple bob up and down and you start to wonder what happened.

Then, his eyes leave the screen, searching for yours. When your gazes collide, the confidence that he had a few minutes ago was now gone, replaced by anxiousness.

"I think..." He says reluctantly. "You need to see this."

He hands you his device and you impassively check out what he saw. Then, the blood drains from your skin, your own expression alters to skepticism first, then turns to perplexity once you double take on the image viewed on the screen.

At first, you didn't know what to feel. Your mind going haywire for a fleeting moment. You felt even worse when you look up at Yoongi because his emotion was anything but jubilance. In fact, he rather looks like he was in agony.

But you don't care about that. Your anger only rises, traveling through your veins. At that very moment, standing before your own rival, you were beyond humiliated and enraged that he witnessed your downfall, the scarlet ink being the proof of it.

Top Performers for This Year's Midterms

1. Min Yoongi

2. L/N Y/N

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

The Christmas jingles resonating all throughout the suburbs was unnecessarily aggravating you more than it should be for the reasons that you are making it sound like Christmas is mocking your once exuberant mood a few days ago, and because you didn't like the gift and news you received that night.

Despite the freezing weather's attempts to cool you down, it was heightening your fury instead. Four days after Christmas Eve, you kicked the sheets off yourself and impulsively decided that a walk in the suburbs will be a great idea so that you can finally turn your sour mood into a sweet one.

Alas, it fails miserably. You are still trampling on snow piles as your fervent eyes scan the shops in the sidewalks, desperately trying to look for something that can finally extinguish the fires within you.

But when you reach the end of the street, the tall buildings of stores turning into festive bungalows, and decorated apartments. The worst of all is the duplexes, because the decorations of both similar-structured houses have conjoined Christmas embellishments, letting everyone who passes by know that the two families living inside are more than acquaintances.

It stupidly reminds you of your family's current situation with them. More specifically, your situation with him.

When you finally reach the comfort of your bedroom, contradictory, it doesn't feel comforting at all. Everywhere your gaze lands, they remind you of him; of the fact that he had finally conquered you; that all your hardwork that year were for nothing.

Shutting your eyes close, you begin to recite the numbers of pi, pacing around your room. It was something that you always do when you're stressed.

"...190914564856692346034861045432664821339!" When the door of your bedroom creaks open, you couldn't help but yell nine, as if threatening the one who dares to interrupt your attempts to keep yourself level-headed.

You were about to glare but instead, you were surprised to see your father, peeking through the crevice of your door. You notice that he's slightly anxious because, well, you were screaming numbers.

A sigh escapes your lips and you shuffle towards the door, opening it wider. Your father takes this as a sign that he was invited in your room.

Your relationship with your father is very much uptight and timid which is why between him and your mother, you're less angry at him. At times though, you didn't know how to act around him because you feel like you don't know him. You never bonded with him. Except for that time you were helping him out with connecting the Christmas lights on your roof's gutters.

After that fleeting moment, the bond was gone, as if a scissor magically appeared to cut the strings between you two. You don't hate him for it, but sometimes, you wonder and daydream possible moments where you could actually bond without that suffocating rope forcedly tying you two together.

You wonder if in the past, in the years when you were still full of innocence, purity, oblivious of the histories of the ancient world; when you still didn't know how to count one to three; when you barely knew how to lift a muscle and take the first steps towards your father.

Had he ever squat down before you, his face full of sunshine, and encourage you to come to him with open arms? Tell you that you could do it! That you could make it to the heartwarming embrace of your father's arms?

But the more you try to dig any sort of memory from your lobes, nothing resurfaces. And you were back with the reality that, maybe, he didn't need and have to do all of those.

Because as far as your memory traveled back, you had been completely fine on your own. Maybe, you taught yourself how to walk, think, say your first word.

Because, you were gifted.

And now, as the years go by, you realize that the gift you have, may be also your curse.

It's a tightrope with both ends holding you up, urging you to keep on walking. A gift and a curse on either end, shouting at you—

Stop standing around!

The rope's about to break if you don't start moving another step!

What has gotten into you?!

You used to do this so effortlessly!

"Y/N."

The call of your father's soft voice pulls you out of your trance. You suddenly realize that you had been standing by the door stupidly and your father is looking at you with worry creasing his mature features.

"Oh," you say. "My bad."

You shut the door then turn your back towards your father. You amble towards your desk, attempting to fix the sprawled mess on it by carelessly shoving the scratch papers in your bin, keeping your ballpens and pencils in your pencil case, the zipper loudly being the only source of sound slicing through the deafening silence.

"Sorry about the mess," you say. "I've been busy."

"On your holiday break?" your father asks, chuckling lightly. The sound faintly makes your lips form into a small smile. But as soon as it came, it disappears.

"Yeah, well, I'm growing older. And that means the more I age, the more my ability to suck in information rusts."

Your father doesn't reply after that, so you continue to clean up your desk wordlessly. Once you had nothing to pick up and throw and keep anymore, you finally turn back around to face your father.

He's sitting quiety on the foot of your bed, and you take heed of the small box he's fiddling with his hands. The box is covered with red wrapper, with flurries of snowflakes as pattern.

He notices that your attention is on him, so he stands up from your bed and approaches you in a relaxing manner yet you can catch on the slight cautiousness along it. You decide not to mention anything about it.

He hands you the little parcel, and you accept it wordlessly, opting to wait for him to speak first.

He does. "I wasn't able to get you any gift on Christmas, and I hope I'm not too late. I had a bit of a hard time picking one, but I made sure I thought about it. Hopefully, you'll like this small present."

"Thanks, dad," is your only verbose reply.

He nods and after contemplating a bit, he decides to leave you to it. In your own solitude once again, you scrutinize the small box, tossing it lightly every now and then to guess what it was. You feel movement from inside, like a flow of something liquid.

Your curiosity makes you rip the wrapper apart and it didn't take long for the gift to make its apparition.

The gift is simple like its size, but to you, it holds a lot of meaning. It's a snowglobe, but the inside is what makes it unique. No, Santa Claus isn't there inside nor were the nine reindeers that pulled his sleigh—even the sleigh itself is absent. Rudolph isn't there which makes you slightly pout but it doesn't last long because staring back at you from the other side of the glass is a small girl with Iron Man's arm around her. He is almost hugging her but his other arm remains at his side.

You shake the globe in your hands, chuckling at the bits of snow encompassing the small figures inside.

Indeed, it reminds you of something. You and your father.

But for the first time in forever, you aren't longing. Rather, you are contented.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

It is still snowing a week after New Year. Nothing much happened. You only had a family dinner, watched fireworks, and jumped around because of your belief that you would grow taller if you do so.

But after the first day of the year, things went back to normal. The only difference is the relentless snow pouring everywhere.

Oh, and classes are resumed.

Miraculously, you don't feel as much anger as you did a few weeks ago. You don't know if it's because it's a new year so you just suddenly feel like oh, fuck it, it's been a long ass while, I should chill the eff out.

Weirdly enough, you expected to be really infuriated when your feet leads you to the bulletin board and scan it. You see your name, beside the number two. It sinks in to you of the reality that you're now second but oddly, you don't feel the particular element surging through your veins.

You thought everything's going well so far. And you must have a curse because every time you thought that all is well, that's when the real torrential typhoon arrives.

Tornados hit everywhere, and instead of rainshowers, you see hails vehemently falling on yourself. It hurts so much more than rain, but you had to get through it anyways. Or else, you would die getting shot by mere ice. It was gonna be embarrassing if your soul sees your grave with the words 'Cause of death: ice' engraved on your tombstone.

So, you make sure that you are under control when Min Yoongi does his usual entrance, greeting the student body with nods and smiles. It's slightly different now though, because some of them greeted him back with congratulations.

You resist your eye wanting to twitch when Yoongi's gaze finally lands on you.

A year ago and a year before that, you would always see his eyes fiery and intense, trying to get under your nerves with a mere eye contact. Now, however, his eyes hold on anything but anger. The sight of him doesn't infuriate you for the first time, but it does provoke you for another reason that you were afraid to unravel.

You desperately want to bury what you're feeling six feet below, because as much as you loathe it, you can't help but trail your mind back to that particular night when he had declared his feelings for you.

"I like you, Y/N."

Was that even possible? Was it possible, at all, to grow feelings for the person who constantly tormented you for the years you've known them? You couldn't wrap your mind around it, no matter how smart you are, it seems like you couldn't find any plausible explanation for such circumstances.

Not even when the devil himself is only three inches away from you, did you successfully come up with a conceivable reason.

Yoongi greets you but you don't respond. The crowd was anticipating what would your response be, and you refuse to give them the satisfaction. Instead, you walk past him, not even sparing a glance to any of the spectators. You also drown out their whispers, making you want to yell at them 'Why whisper when I would still hear it anyway, dumbos?'

You don't utter a single world, opting to force to smother the flames instead, maybe bury them deep within your ribcage, lock it with a key and throw it in the Altantic Ocean, hoping that it will land on the Titanic where no one could ever take it. Not even you.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

You spent the whole day in school cocooned in your hoodie, attempting to take naps despite of the loud voices of your teachers and classmates. But you only end up being wide awake, your eyes open, your face on the desk, seeing nothing but black. You succumb in yourself in the trenches of your own thoughts, and you finally drift off.

You don't know how long you've fallen asleep, but your consciousness slowly enters your systems, causing you to become suddenly aware of your surroundings. Unlike a few minutes—or hours—ago, the ambience is silent. Too silent.

When you open your eyes and move your arms slightly, your brows furrow in confusion when the darkness remains. You have no idea if your sense of hearing had heightened in the span of your sleep or if the sound is just extremely loud because you can hear someone breathing, as if they were just beside you.

Squinting your eyes, you brace for the brightness of the world to blind you, but you still see nothing.

You rub your eyes to adjust your sight in the dark. And you finally realize that it is night time. The stars are awake, looking down on you as they twinkle. The moon is round, as if it is luring you to spill your secrets.

Most importantly, you finally process the presence beside you. The main sound source of breathing.

Min Yoongi.

When you look at him, he's already staring at you. It reminds you of that certain night once again. Come to think of it, the situation you both are in is similar. It's night time again.

"What are you doing here?" It's you who breaks the silence. Your voice is slightly hoarse so you clear your throat.

"I could ask you the same." Yoongi shrugs. He leans on his desk, propping his elbow and resting his chin on his palm.

"I fell asleep," you merely say.

"I figured," he replies. "But you slept through your classes? Even after it ended?Huh, I never took you for a deep sleeper."

"It's because of the weather." You grit your teeth, starting to feel annoyed at the exchange you're having with your nemesis.

Your bitter tone, however, doesn't come unnoticed to Yoongi.

"Why are you grumpy? Shouldn't you feel better after a nap?"

"You could say that I woke up on the wrong side of my desk."

He lets out a laugh at your response, and you furrow your eyebrows and frown because your intention wasn't to make a joke.

"Is that your awkward way of flirting with me?" He gives you a coquettish smile.

Your face distorts into disgust. "You're ridiculous."

"What?" Yoongi tilts his head. "You said you woke up on the wrong side of your desk, which is the opposite of where I am. Do you think you would've been in a less sour mood if it was my face you saw first?"

You mentally kick yourself for being slow. Moreoever, you also curse lowly because your heart stopped beating for a fleeting moment.

You also can't contain your irritation any longer. You grimace, making your vexation perceivable to the boy who sat beside you.

"You're really getting on my nerves," you say. "This was your goal all along, right? To deter me away from focus. This was your grandmaster plan all along. To get ahead of me. Well, guess what?" You abruptly stand up from your chair, the furniture screeching against the floor. The eerie sound reverberates through the whole room yet Yoongi doesn't flinch.

"Congratulations, Yoongi," you seethe. "Congratulations for beating me! Did you have fun distracting me? Also, cut the crap, will you? You weren't here because you wanted to set a romantic mood, and maybe try again in making me fall for you, yes? No, you don't have to go through all that bullshit. Not at all. Because right now. Right here, I am giving you the full permission of mocking me! Tada! Isn't this fun? It's all going well for you, isn't it, hm?"

You were now leaning forward, your face right in front of him. You gathered that much of your confidence because you already knew it would be your last. Because the following days, you would probably be drooping in humilation.

However, Yoongi stays put in his seat, his eyes void of any emotion you could decipher. He only looks at you. The silence envelopes the both of you again, and you were losing every bit of patience you had left within you.

But the silence breaks as soon as you acknowledge it.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?"

Yoongi's question-declaration cuts you deep. Your breath hitches and you feel like someone had taken your lifeline.

"Wha—"

"You know," he speaks again. "For all the years I've known you, I always thought that even if we were in an apocalypse; if we were the last humans on earth, I would rather date a zombie that have myself associated with you. It was always easier that way, right?" He pauses, looking briefly at you before shifting his gaze at the silvery scenery outside. "It was easy... but now, it's difficult to think that way. Because in all my life, I have never even considered, thought about falling for you."

At the last word, his eyes meet yours and a thousand galaxies can be seen in his irises. You can see your own reflection in his eyes, unsaid words starting to spill out the more stars his eyes consumed.

"Your brutal words used to be my melodies, because whenever I hear you utter words of hatred at me, they become my symphonies. I was always satisfied having successfully gotten into your nerves. But now, they're like bullets to me. Your wicked words are curses to me. Whenever you express your loathe, they come across as daggers now. But they also bewitch me in some way, because I know that you don't vehemently hate anyone else as much as you hate me."

A soft wind kisses both of your skin, serving as the temporary rest between the overwhelming tension between you.

"But I can't help but think..." He moves from his seat, standing up from it and you are forced to stand properly as well.

He takes a step closer to you. "That maybe, just maybe, we are on the same boat."

"That maybe, the reason you're getting so worked up on me right now is because you feel the same way." Another step closer.

"That maybe, I'm not going insane. That this is all totally normal for me to feel." Another step closer.

The back of your knees hit the teacher's desk, and you yelp slightly at the familiar proximity of your bodies. The night of Christmas Eve haunts you back, but oddly, it doesn't asphyxiate you. Rather it dawns on you in a soothing manner, but also in a way that the weight of the world on your shoulders becomes a bit bearable.

The eventual arrives upon you and it hits you like a meteor plunging on the earth's surface, burying itself deep within the soil so that it becomes a part of the planet. Everything started to make sense to you at this very moment; why you cared so much about how well Yoongi did in every exam you took; why it seems that everything he does gets under your skin; why everything he says stuck to you the most, etching on your mind and it becomes a mantra in your head.

It had always been him. You had always loved that fucker, even more this moment of realization. And it terrifies you now more than anything. You wanted to incessantly succumb yourself under denial, but you knew you would only feel worse than you already are.

You can't push him away any longer, because the more you do, the more your world collapses, and sooner or later you will find yourself underneath the heap of rubble you created yourself. That no matter how vehement you scream for help, nobody will come to you.

But in the depths of your abyssal thoughts, you finally conjure the image of your worst enemy; the one who pulls you out of the demolished building; the one who embraces you and whisper you sweet nothings.

You unconsciously sought Yoongi in all seasons because he have always been the one who saw you; he's the cold wind that caresses your cheeks, the storm that torments you, the sunlight that blinds you, the water that pours on you so that you'll bloom.

And now, the autumn leaves that delicately descend on your palms, and you nuzzle your nose against his, the warmth emanating from him instilling in yours.

His lips ghost over yours, and he whispers, "Tell me to stop. And if you don't... I will take that as your indication that you're returning my feelings."

Yoongi's lips are soft when he brushes it against yours a few times before he presses deeper. His lips are sweet when you taste him the first time in your tongue. His kiss is deliberately and painfully slow but he fills you to the brim, taking in all of your cold breaths. His touch is gentle and tender, stroking the soft skin of your nape as he searches for an angle that can fully quench his desire for you.

It was nothing like you ever imagined, because you never did. Only in this moment, did you let your mind wander to dangerous territory. Your fantasies getting vivid as each second passed by as he drinks in your breathless exhales, strokes your hip lovingly.

Your eyes are still fluttered shut when the warmth of his mouth leaves yours, and you suddenly feel empty. When you open them, his beauty greets you and your eyes that once held fervid flames are extinguished into something much more gentle and fond.

That's all that it takes for Yoongi to know what you truly feel about him.

───❝˖✧★✧˖❞───

The blanket of snow dissipates, replaced by the freshly-bloomed flowers, coating the once melancholic pavement. Flocks of birds fills the void, the leaves rustle, and the world seems a whole lot livelier than before.

Furthermore, you are much more in a state of tranquility.

Spring break arrives sooner than you expected, and you are once again free from the bars of school. Lately, however, you don't deem that place like a prison anymore. It had become much more bearable and breathable for you to step foot on it.

One, because being at the top doesn't matter to you anymore (partly because you had a recent discovery that you pretty much enjoyed being at the bottom, if you know what I mean). Two, because you decided that you're going to use your gift in a much more calmer way, where you won't have to stress too much about your grades, as long as you continue to do well in every aspect of your academic performance.

And three, because you look forward for the rendezvouses your boyfriend plans every single week day.

Stolen kisses in empty classrooms and janitors' closets, discreet hand-holdings in crowded public spaces such as the cafeteria, playful banters in the hallways to put on a show for everyone to see, the thrill of getting caught whenever things got a little bit too heated between the two of you in the darkness of storage rooms.

Yeah, while everyone else still thinks you're each other's rivals, you two have a secret relationship taking place in the premises, right under their noses.

Yoongi and you had no problem about it at all. You two came into a mutual agreement that you were going to keep this rivalry thing going on only for the sake of the adrenaline rush pumping through both of your veins at the thought of your schoolmates possibly finding out what has been transpiring between the two of you.

You've never understood the meaning of love and hate until now. They are two emotions, not entirely the opposite of each other, but they belong to both sides of a coin. The coin wouldn't exist without the other. That's why you worry less about the future that awaits you, because it's Yoongi.

Yoongi had seen you in your worst and so did you had seen his. There's that fine line that exists between the both of you of love and hate, which is why you think that indifference is the opposite of love instead. Because with indifference, you don't give a damn about that person. That isn't the case for you at all on what you feel towards Yoongi.

He is the psychedelic drug you never want to stop drinking. It feels overwhelming at times, but you feel good. And you make sure to return the favor when the coin lands on your side.

Once again, he pulls you out of your reverie, intertwining his fingers with yours. He keeps your hands in the pocket of his coat, while you blush underneath his stare. He walks ahead slightly, pulling you along with him. You don't know where he'll take you on your umpteenth date, but you let him do as he pleases to you.

Yeah, this feels all right.

Maybe, you don't mind him being at the top at all. As long as it was always you who follows behind him.

#bts #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #yoongi imagines #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi au #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #romance #highschool au #romcom au #christmas au #enemies to lovers #rivals to lovers #yoongi oneshot #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #suga au #suga angst #suga fanfiction #suga fanfic #the gift and the gifted #haeggi

[herozdiary]

I've got an idea about simon celebrating midsummer! (It's a Swedish holiday but many other countries in Europe celebrate something similar under diffrent names) Midsummer is about celebrating on the longest day of the year when the sun is out the most and usually people make flower crowns, dance in the sun, make a big bonfire, usually a lot of these happen on an open field so perhaps picnics too. Anyways I thought it would be sweet to see how simon would celebrate it now, maybe being reminded of some childhood memories or going on a trip with his partner in the middle of nature for it!

Flower crowns

Simon x reader

This diary entry contains…Lots of fluff | established relationship | had to do some very good research on this topic🧐 | brief mention of Self harm scars

GIGGLE THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST😵‍💫🫶🏾 it’s nice to get them even if it overflows my ask box because that means I have ideas for the rest of the month 🥳🥳 tbh this topic sounds really interesting and I was glad while doing research on this event!

Summer is like the best season in most people’s opinion.Ever since you moved to Sweden you learn more and more about it every day.

Simon had explained to you about something called midsummer when you complained how boring it was sitting in the hot house.

You listened carefully as he explained the background for it and things people do and one thing he mentioned caught your eye…making flower crowns.

You always wanted to make one and you used to be an absolute pro at it until you just kinda forget how to do it.you used to make kids on the playground flower crowns in exchange for candy or money if they were willing to pay.

You knew Simon didn’t like going anywhere without his hoodie on mostly because of his scars showing but you reassured him saying you guys could find a quiet spot that might have shade in it.

He was a little worried but agreed anyway.You spent the rest of the morning getting ready.you rambled on to Simon about how excited you were and he just watched with the smallest smile on his face.

Once the both of you felt like you were ready.You left out your shared apartment before you followed Simon as he guided you to a nearby field.The walk was quiet besides the occasional child waving excitedly at you and Simon.

Once you made it to the field you noticed a nice big tree sat next to some pretty flowers.”Most of the flowers aren’t poisonous so you have a lot of options for your flower crown”Simon explained as he grabbed your hand and guided you through the field towards the tree.

“My mother used to take me here and would make me flower crowns.I was never good at them and would just settle on watching her or napping”He added as he stopped in front of the tree before letting go of your hand.”I’ll be sitting here if you need me okay?”Simon added before plopping down on the ground and pulling out his phone.

You turned to look at your choices of flowers before you smiled and got right to work.You remembered a lot but did have to spend most of the morning watching a tutorial.You started with Simon’s first,Occasionally standing up and walking over to him to measure his head size before getting back to work.

He didn’t question you.He just let you do whatever as long as you were happy.The rest of the evening was spent with you making a bunch of flower crowns in different colors,sizes and styles.You smiled at your work as you held up a blue daisy one before shuffling over to Simon.

He looked up at you before smiling and tilting his head down so you could place the flower crown on him.you made some adjustments but it did fit perfectly.You smiled and clapped your hands a little before showing Simon the basket of them you made.

“I was thinking later when we walk back to the apartment I could give them to the little kids!”you say as you pushed some of your hair out of your face.”That would be nice,We can leave whenever your ready”Simon said as you nodded before you sat next to him.

“We can leave in a little I just wanna spend time with you for now…we didn’t do much together so maybe watching the sunset or something could make up for it!”You say as place your head on his shoulder as you nuzzled closer to him.

Simon smiled as wrapped an arm around your waist before going back to doing whatever he was doing.You were quietly watching him as the sun slowly sunk and the sky changed pretty orange and pink colors.Everything felt perfect.

You had fun even if it was mostly silent you and Simon just needed each other and it didn’t matter if you spoke a thousand words to two words,He just needed your company.

#cry of fear #cry of fear x reader #cry of fear x you #simon henriksson #simon henriksson x reader #character x you #video game x reader #x reader #x y/n #fluff

[burritowitch]

Lonnie's 'in case of my death' note from shadow of the bat #41 which according to @lesbiananitafite reads a hell of a lot like a suicide note because he is Not Normal, written out below because it is so hard to read as is:

It looks like tonight must have been that night. I know I've caused you a lot of pain and grief over the past couple of years, and I'm sorry for that. You thought you were bringing me up to be the All-American boy, playing ball on the weekends, studying hard to be a doctor or lawyer. Instead you got a criminal. My memory is tainted, my good intentions derided. And, probably, I'm dead.

How to begin to explain how I feel? The world is like an alien planet to me, the brittle laughter and hollow fun of a theme park overlaying the nightmares of war and discrimination and brutality. The people society respects-- the great and the good-- are, in most part, the small and the evil to me. It's as if I see with laser eyes, burning away the surface illusions that hide the fact that we're zombies-- puppets controlled by somebody else. Again I'm sorry, because I know you're upset. You're good people-- nearly everybody is good people-- and that's what the elite take advantage of. But society is changing. The information revolution allows every man to see the great and good are no better than him. The old power structures and their fascist ways cannot compete with the anarchy of tomorrow's technology. The time of the common man is coming. No longer will he have to march to battle as fodder for bankers and arms makers. No longer will he live in a fog of deceit stoked up by politicians' lies. The future is freedom... and all I ever wanted was to hasten its birth.

I think it all began with Xuasus. I was eleven when he became my penpal... Every month I wrote to tell him the wonders of America-- Every month he wrote back with tales of hovels and soldiers and the brutal repression that made up his life. After a year, his letters suddenly stopped. Mine were returned "Not Known." Another year passed before I found out why he Xuasus wrote once more, a single sheet scribbled in some seedy back alley. His father had been arrested and not heard from since. His mother took ill. His sister died of malnourishment. At the age of 11, Xuasus was fending for himself on the streets. Remember I asked you to help me find him, Dad? You said it was another country, the rules were different there. We could do nothing. But I couldn't just forget a friend like that. I started to haunt the library. I found out Xuasus' country was a dictatorship, at war with Marxist guerillas, with ordinary people caught in the crossfire. I found out the guns came from Europe, and Russia... and here. A few men made big profits, while half a world away, poor people suffered. I read about war and the history of war, and the psychology of war, and the horrors of war. You never knew it but--

That's when I went through those months of nightmares. Remember? Anyway, I soon realized something-- almost all wars were caused by only one man, or one small group of men. And every time the elites ordered 'Fight!' it was the ordinary men who became canon fodder-- and ordinary families followed him into oblivion.

I learned that the state is more important than the individual. I learned that politics is soaked in blood. But I couldn't accept that it had to be that way. Remember how crazy I was about books, Dad? I used to make you take me to the bookstore every Saturday. Flying saucers, cults, conspiracy theory, religion, the occult... I drank it up, tried in vain to make sense of it all. Then I discovered Scudder Klyce's "Universe" and the jigsaw finally fell into place.

Scudder Klyce worked out the secret of humanity. Vox populi, Vox Del. The voice of the people is the voice of God. The elites are parasites, vampires sucking on the life-blood of man, turning everything good and decent into foul corruption! That's when Anarky was born. I couldn't help Xuasus-- but I could give the people of Gotham a voice, no matter how small, against the forces that oppress them.

--If I am dead, please don't think ill of me. I only wanted to bring a little sanity into an insane world for a little while, I was something no one else had ever been... the voice of the people. One day-- and it won't be long-- the tyrants will die away, scorned and mocked by their former victims. One day you'll see that I'm right; maybe then you'll be proud to say "My son did that."

All my love, Anarky (alias Lonnie Machin)

#lonnie machin #save me i suffered doing ths

[fcbfemeni-11]

From the bottom to the top

A little girl from Argentina’s documentary about how she rose to the top.

Martina X Fcb Femeni

5th June 1998, Cordoba, Argentina

“She looks just like her father”

“Martina, that’s her name.”

2000, 2 years old

“Martina, i’m sorry. I love you, i promise”

“When i was two years old i was placed into foster care. My father died while on active duty, in the army, and my mother just left me. She’s tried to contact me, many times actually, since that day, but i’ve told her to stop calling, so i’ve not heard from her in years. I was a baby and she left me.”

2003, 5 years old

“When i turned five i found my first home. The people who adopted me seemed lovely, at first. They had a big house and two other daughters, a couple years older than me. Their two daughters didn’t like me, and i was always left out. My foster parents, at the time, treated me as an incomer, not like their daughter. I didn’t get the things the other two got. For example, when we went out to eat they could get whatever they wanted, however i had a limited number of options. At one point my behaviour got worse so they put my back. I only lasted around eight months with them.”

2005, 7 years old

“I didn’t find another home until two years later. I was getting schooled at the foster centre and i was doing good. This time i was adopted by a single mother who, at first, treated me amazingly. I felt at home, we did everything together. However, the day she fell pregnant was the day that everything changed. As soon as she found out she packed my things, threw them in the car along with me. I knew what was happening since it wasn’t the first time. She didn’t say a word to me, she just took me back to hell”

2009, 11 years old

“I hated life. No one wanted me, and i had no one to talk to. I started playing football, in the centre. The workers started to get annoyed, but whenever they took the ball from me my behaviour just got so much worse so they allowed me to join an armature team. I loved it. I made friends, a few anyway, and i was named captain after my first year there”

2010, 12 years old

“As soon as i turned 12 a few teams from around the country started sniffing around me, even a few from other countries in south America, like Brazil, but i opted to stay where i was as my team was only getting stronger. Every other day i had training. I trained and then returned. The days where i didn’t train my behaviour was really bad, and all of the workers noticed this. A few parents came to meet me, but none of them wanted me which only made my behaviour worsen.”

2012, 14 years old

“The day i turned fourteen is the day everything changed. I was at training when the coach pulled me aside, he told me there was a team from Europe who were looking to sign me. He didn’t tell me who. He bought me a one way flight ticket to London. I told the foster workers that i was leaving, and they stopped me from doing so. I wasn’t of legal age so they didn’t let me. After this they failed to control my behaviour. I hated them and i blamed them for ruining my dream.”

2013, 15 years old

“I turned 15 and my coach, yet again, came to me after training. He told me the team in Europe were still interested and still wanted me. He told me the club was in England, and he, yet again, bought me a one way ticket to London. This time the foster workers couldn’t stop me. They tried, but ultimately failed. They had a couple coming in to meet me, but i didn’t want to meet them, i wanted to leave and never come back, so that’s exactly what i done. I left Argentina as a fifteen-year-old-girl with no family and flew to London, a foreign county all by myself in search of my dream”

2014, 16 years old

“My first year at Arsenal was awful, i hated it. I hated London and i hated the club. I couldn’t speak English, but they made no effort in getting me lessons nor getting me a translator. I was treated like a foreigner, and not an Arsenal player. Despite my goal scoring record, i rarely started. And my host family wanted nothing to do with me. I wanted to end my life. Nothing was worth living for anymore. I was so close. So close”

2016, 18 years old

“After one final year at Arsenal, in 2015, i terminated my contract with the club. Nothing had changed. I took a break for a little while until, after my eighteenth birthday, i received a call from the Barcelona academy manager, who wanted me to trial with the club. I accepted in a heartbeat. As a Barcelona fan, i couldn’t not accept”

“Within a week i was a Barcelona player. I was originally signed to the Academy but after a month and a half, i was handed my first professional contract and began to train with the first team and appear on the bench for their fixtures”

“After a couple of months i made my debut, off the bench, in the Champions League against Arsenal. The score, when i came on, was 1-1, and the game had approximately seven minutes to go. When i came on all i wanted to do was play my own game. I stole the ball from one of the Arsenal players and charged down the heart of the pitch, breaking through Arsenals midfield and defence, and then i easily slotted the ball into the back of the net. In celebration i kissed the Barcelona badge and done the ‘shhh’ celebration towards my ex club.”

“I didn’t realise it at the time, but this day changed my life for the better, and it saved me in a way.”

2017, 19 years old

“After a year of being around the first team, i managed to score seventeen goals, which is insane. I also made so many friends. My best friends are Alexia, Mapi, Patri and Pina. I remember the day Alexia came up to me, i was so shy and only gave her short one word answers, but as time went on i grew more comfortable and i, one day, told her about my past and since that day she has took it upon herself to protect me from everything and everyone.”

2018, 20 years old

“At the age of twenty i had a few offers from other clubs, like Manchester City and Lyon, but i turned them both down because i had a feeling that this club was going to become the best club in the world. Later in the year we got pretty deep into the Champions League, but it was Wolfsburg who knocked us out in the semifinal stage. That game opened our eyes, it showed us the level we had to be at and if anything it motivated us even more.”

2019, 21 years old

“In 2019 we made it to our first final, against Lyon, and we lost. After the game i was in tears but i remember Alexia coming over to me and picking me up. I remember her words clearly..

“We’ve came so far. A few years ago this wasn’t possible, and now look at us. This will take time, but we can do it. We’ve got work to do. This final shows us where we need to be and this will only motivate us to try again next year. Remember, a winner is only a loser who tried more than once.”

“She motivated me. She gave me all the motivation i needed, and i was ready to come back and win this competition. I was ready. We were ready.”

2021, 23 years old

“Last year we didn’t play much, due to Covid, but this year we’re back. This year was one of the best of my life, so far. We bet PSG, City too, and we made it to the final. However this time, not against Lyon, but against Chelsea, a team we weren’t used to meeting. A few days before the game, in training, Alexia pulled up with a hamstring injury. Everyone’s worst nightmare seemed, at that moment, to be coming true. Heads dropped, but on the day of the final, Alexia wrapped her leg up and was named in the starting eleven, despite not training with us the day before. Having Alexia with us gave us all the strength we needed, and when we beat the English side 4-0, in the Champions League final, i ran to the captain and fell into her arms, both of us holding on for deal life before we were joined by a few more of our teammates”

“Lifting the trophy brought tears to my eyes, i couldn’t believe it. All of the hard work paid off. I knew we would become the best team in the world, i knew it. I love this club with my whole heart. This season was historic, we won the treble”

“At the end of this season my contract was ending. I had a lot of good offers, from some of Europes top clubs, but i didn’t even listen to them, i told my agent to turn everyone down and wait for a Barcelona extension. I signed a three year extension with Barcelona, with no doubts in my mind, this is the place i want to be.”

2022, 24 years old

“Twenty-Twenty-Two, the best year of my life, for the most part. We broke records, playing in Camp Nou, against Madrid and Wolfsburg, we went unbeaten in the league, not dropping a single point. We won both cups, but we fell short, yet again, against Lyon in the champions league final. This game broke me. Alexia, after the final whistle, fell to the ground in tears, much like i did. People tried to console me, but no one managed to, until Pina came over. The younger girl grabbed my hands and sat me up, she then sat beside me and pulled me into her arms. She didn’t speak, nor did i. But she didn’t need to, her warmth was all i needed, in that moment, to know that everything will be okay.”

“I’ve been at Barcelona for six years now, since i was eighteen-years-old, and i’ve enjoyed every moment, and will continue to do so. I don’t want to play for anyone else, i was to stay where i am, playing for the best team in the world, for the rest of my career.”

“I was once a broken girl with an impossible dream.”

“This is a reminder, nothing is impossible. Never give up, and keep fighting for your dreams, because if you want it enough, you can achieve it.”

#woso x reader #fcbfemeni #barca femeni x reader #mapi leon #claudia pina #patri guijarro #aitana bonmati #leila ouahabi #woso soccer #arsenal wfc #fcb femeni

[daphnasworld]

originally I hadn't wanted to post anything about the current situation in Israel. Simply bc I wanted to use tumblr as a stress free place to distract myself. But i just saw someone I followed posting something horrible - and I have to say something about that.

Let me explain something first to you - I am german and jewish. I do not live in Israel but had been there a few times to see one of my grandmothers. You need to know that my paternal grandparents were jews living in Marocco but had to leave their home bc of antisemitism in the 60s, shortly before my father was born. Their families had lived in Marocco since ca the 1600. They had to pay nearly all of their money just so that they could afford to pay for the legal passports so that they could get on a boat and leave. As they were still scarred of Europe (bc of what happened in the 30/40s) and they didn't speak english they went to Israel. Simply bc they wanted to feel safe as jews (which btw isn't something common even today!). Anyway, my mothers family is german since forever - and christian. When my parents met my mother herself was still a christian. My father moved to germany and I was born and raised here. I speak hebrew rather bad and think all the time that I want to learn it but I always procrastinate. I am more of a cultural jew, but celebrate all the holidays with my family and eat more or less kosher (no pig, no crustations, i don't mix meat with milk products but I don't wait for hours after eating meat until i eat something with milk - mostly only a few minutes). Like many jews I got asked over the years if I would one day like to move to Israel. The answer is no. I am german and I want to stay in Germany. The only reason I would leave germany would be if something like the holocaust would be happening again. And even then I would look at the whole world to determine where it would be the safest for me. The existence of Israel is a huge relief to me. Because I know that at least there I will always have a safe place to turn to - I can't say that about any other country in the world. In every other country it would be depending on their current government. That had always been the case throughout history since Israel was first taken from the jews.

Now that you know that about me on to the original point of this post. Someone basically posted that what's happening now (terrorists coming to israel, killing civillians, taking people hostage to gaza, filming how they get belittled, spit on, insulted, hit and hurt in other ways - all including tourists and non jews and children) wasn't bad but what Israel deserved. They claimed that no Israelis are civillians but members of the army (yes, even premature born babies) and therefor deserved what happened to them. Of course they were saying that Israelis and jews are the same (which isn't true - there are Muslem and christian and atheist Israelis, but of course thats being ignored). Claiming that all Israelis stole that land - while ignoring that jews had been living there even before there had been talks of bringing Israel back. Of course they also feed the believe that all Israelis are originally from Europe and white - which of course also not true.

Anyway that post basically ended with all Israelis deserve that because no one of them is a civilian and they are all murderers. This triggered me rather badly. Because when I had been only 14 yeq4s old classmates had called me a murderer because I was jewish. Back than I keeped being jewish rather private - it was known that I am jewish, but I didn't talk about it and I never talked about Israel or my family there. So it wasn't like I was that kid talking about the politics there or something. I also wasn't islamophobic. On the contrary, i spoke up if someone said something racist or bigoted and I was happy to have muslim classmates as they too didn't eat pig. Which was back than a big thing in germany. It was before we got all those vegetarian or vegan dishes. Especially were I lived the menus of most restaurants contained dishes to 80 % with pig meat. So it was great that I wasn't the only one not eating pig. Because i had been the only jew in my school. Anyway, one day in school my teacher for ethics class (bc in germany religion as a subject had been mandatory. But bc not everyone was christian there had been this special class called ethics were every non christian had to be in) said that it was time to talk about world religions. So why not talk about Islam and Judaism at the same time (bc to him there had been as good as no differences between both religions. It was only later that I realised that said teacher had been not only racist but also very antisemitic, but until then he had managed to hide it rather good). And suddenly it started, from one second to the next. I hadn't said anything but all of my muslim classmates except for two of them turned towards me and started to scream at me. It was horrifiyng. Until than I had only had to deal with right wing antisemitism but never from amy muslims but they were screaming at me, insulting me. Kids my age that five minutes before that had talked to me completly normal. I was totally frightened, as they were all so aggressiv and didn't stop. Especially one male student was horrible. The teacher hadn't done anything - he sat in his chair, looked at us and actually smiled. And all my non muslim friends in this class simply sat there quietly. Not shocked or scared - most of them even looked bored. 5 minutes before that I had believed to be in a safe space surrounded be friends - only to be alone and scared like never before. But what stayed most prominent out of all of it until today was the following: they were screaming that all jews are murderers. Including me, a 14 year old, that all of them knew for years. When asked why, they said simply bc the Isreali government killed people, all israeli politicians were jews and because of that all jews had to be murderes. That argument is of course absolute bullshit and makes no sense at all. But it was clear that this way of thinking had been teached all of them. How else would a bunch of teenagers get those thoughts? Of course they must have heard it somewhere. And they believed it with their whole being. No counter argument, no question asked, nothing could make them change their minds. They truly believed that to be the truth. And that was what scared me the most. Because they were already so aggressiv about it, screaming it unprompted, filled with hatred. I cried for the rest of that day. I was scared shitless of every single one of those screaming classmates. Years later at another school I met one of them again. I was still afraid of him, especially since afterwards I had informed myself more of the antisemitic as well as the political situation there and started to understand just how deep and wide spread that hatred was. And of course i tried to stay away from him until he asked me why I didn't like him. And guess what - he didn't remember it. Something that traumatised me to my bones had been an ordinary Tuesday for him.

You can critisize Israel all you want, because yeah, the government made mistakes. But they are not all evil. If you serioulsy believe that no Israeli is innocent (incl the children) and are even happy about what is happening there, than you are an antisemitic piece of shit and a horrible person.

#i stand with israel #racism #antisemitism

[motsimages]

The first drag queen show I ever saw in my life was in Russia. It was 2008. They hired a group of drag queens from Moscow and brought them to a local disco in some lost Ural city. It was an spectacular show and I only regret having a poor level of Russian because I missed many jokes. This does not mean that gay people were happily out in the open, but in 2009 there was a movie about drag queens in Moscow, so it was still better allowed to do these things.

That year, I also met a gay man in his 40s. He was friends with a group of 40-50 year-old swingers and one of them happened to be my student of French. This gay man was the most interesting one in this party and I always regretted not being able to get his contact details, we got along immediately.

4 years later, in that same city, a friend of mine who had a gay friend invited us all out to the gay bar. It was far from the city centre, in some building with no lights outside. Compared to the very decorated and aesthetic bars, cafes and discos I had been in Russia, this one felt temporary. It had almost no decoration and no light work. Chairs were swimming pool chairs. It was half empty, and amongst the small vibrant young community there, a couple of man and woman in their forties caught my eye. They were quiet, just having some drinks looking at the ambiance. They looked like neighbours who decided to take a drink before going home in the closest bar, and it happened to be this one, they probably had a shared story with the rest of the clientele.

That same year, I went to Kazan and people knew there was a gay bar near a very recognisable place in the city center. I could never find it on my own and I knew I could only enter with an invitation. I have visited friends in the area later on, in one of my last trips to Kazan, around 2017? I was surprised to see two young lesbians hugging and snuggling in a hipster bar of the city center. A Russian gay roommate I had in Madrid around that time, where I also shared a flat with a very out Spanish lesbian girl, took months to even mention he liked boys. In Madrid. He was surprised that men would just hold hands in the street with their boyfriends.

From what a friend of mine has shown me from music in her teenage years, there was some possible turning point in the early 2000s where some gay men and some lesbian women made music and were relatively out in the public eye. Outside of Russia, we know of T.a.t.u., but there were many others. Several of the men casually married to women around 2010 and said that they were only gay for marketing purposes, not really gay. I particularly think of Shura (after min 1:15).

I was in Russia for the elections in, I think it was 2012. There were demonstrations and the Dean of the university where I worked gathered many teachers and told us that we should forbid our students to go demonstrate (it took him a long while because he started of saying "we must look out for them, let them know it's dangerous and they could end up in prison" but professors wouldn't agree, students were old enough to make their own decisions).

Over the past ten-fifteen years, many things have been happening in Russia, little by little. I think the last drop has been the war. Up until that moment, it was tiny changes here and there, but the war has been a big distraction so no need to hide anything anymore.

I have interpreted for Russian asylum seekers who left the country because they oposed the war and didn't want to go to the front. They were in associations agains the war and so, they were deemed not only desertors but extremists.

This past year, every month we have received Russian asylum seekers who were gay and/or opposed to the war. Many are going to Kazakhstan, Turkey or any other countries where no visa is needed. Many need to go through Georgia to be able to open a bank account that they can use in Europe while not being tracked by Russia.

I worry about my friends too. A mother of three with a son who soon will be 18, of age to go to the army and probably not the means to stop it. I worry about the friends who don't know what it means that so many people are being labeled extremists, those who are doing things "right", but how right can you do them until they're not right anymore because they're single or divorced or childless or working or unemployed or too young or too old?

I may have noticed these changes more than my friends because I have not been living in Russia in the long term, I came back every couple of years and things were harder. Moscow looks like a modern city, every couple of years looks more and more like Europe. But some things were never open to begin with and the window where they could have changed was a very small one.

#russia #lgbt #лгбтроссия #lgbt russia

[suugrbunz]

Part One — Main Focus will be Joe Liebgott, Edward Shames, and Jewish Identity. Part two will focus on MoTa.

First let me start by saying— these are thoughts that have been forming for a long time. There are things I will say that I've wanted to say for a long time. This is just me publishing my personal opinion with subsequent facts of the matter. However, you can differentiate the two. Put the facts above my opinion and if you believe I am wrong, feel free to send me a message in my ask box about it!

First and foremost being Jewish is a spectrum. There are ethnic Jews who are secular but stay within the community, there are practising ethnic Jews who vary their degrees of religious adherence, there are ethnic Jews who are Christian converts, and there are converts who are not ethnically Jewish. We are an ethnoreligious group— like the Druze or the Yazidis. There are many forms of our religion and many different cultural practices influenced by where they lived. The main groups we have are Ashkenazim; Diaspora that lives in Eastern Europe and everyone uses them as the staple of Jewry, they're not, they're just a part of the community. Mizrahim; Diaspora that resided in the Middle East and Northern African. They have suffered through many genocides (as have the rest shhh). Sephardim; Diaspora that resided in the Iberian Peninsula before the Spanish inquisition fucked them over and they ended up in the Balkans, the Middle East, Africa, and anywhere else. Finally, there are Central Asian Jews who are often a mixture of the Ashkenazi and Mizrahi diaspora. A great example of these are the Bukharan Jews. Whilst they're their own community within our community; Many Iraqi, Iranian, and Ashki Jews ended up in their community due to genocides in the countries they lived in.

So let's talk about some of our Jewish characters in BoB and some important information!!

Liebgott’s mother was Jewish. Yes, he was raised catholic but allow me to remind you of the statement we are an ethnoreligious group. He may not have spoken Yiddish but he did speak a dialect of German because of where his parents were from. Let's be real, speaking your parent's first language at home is normal. If Liebgott wasn't ethnically Jewish he wouldn't have been pissed off at Guarnere’s blatant antisemitism towards Sobel by calling him a Son of Abraham (oy vey).

Joe may not have known anything about the religion. Joe may not have gone to shul. But neither did Billy Joel and he was similarly raised Catholic by a Jewish family and still he has said he feels connected to the community. Joel's family went to Cuba to escape Nazis as they were a German Jewish family. If he didn't feel this connection then the real-life Liebgott wouldn't have fought Guarnere, right?

We note him as being exceptionally hateful towards Nazis. We see him as this feisty individual who could initiate a fight with anyone and might just win. The first time we see the war’s true emotional toll on Liebgott is when he breaks down at the camp. Though, I'd also argue that him not getting help when injured is a big sign of his deteriorating mental health.

Sit down because we are about to take a very emotional ride which will give you insight to any Ashkenazi or Sephardic individual who had a family member perish in the Sho’ah.

As only two generations away from the Sho’ah in my family, I know where my family died and I know where they were from. The most painful thing for me is to look at the train loads of Hungarian Jews arriving at Auschwitz. That is my family. At a young age I saw that film, I remember silently crying as I questioned if my family was captured in this film. If I see them just before they're matched to their death. Now imagine being Liebgott. Imagine being any Jewish individual that came across a camp— death or work camp. Imagine knowing this could've been you if your family didn't leave their homeland. Or worse, knowing that whatever family they left behind is dead. Dead and gone. Unnamed. Unknown. Stripped of their identity and in some camps they're just a number for ease of figuring out who has or has not died. Not every camp used this system, but some did. The camp easy company came across was not one of these but… It was still a camp. I think many people don't realise the sheer amount of camps and ghettos that were spread across the whole of Europe. According to USHMM’s Encyclopedia— over 44,000 camps were established. Additionally there were around 1,000 ghettos. So, we will establish our base estimated number at 45,000. Meaning the likelihood of accidentally coming across one was generally higher than what one may believe. Especially depending on the area you were in.

On the other hand someone who is hardly spoken of; Edward Shames was a practising Jew. He toasted his son’s bar mitzvah with hitler's cognac. Which is such a fuck you to hitler. A bar/bat mitzvah is a celebration of a Jewish person becoming an adult in the religion. There's partying, reading of the Torah, and all around joyous times. It is basically; We lived, you didn't— how successful was your genocide? Oh, yeah, not successful enough. Additionally, Shames held a Pesach Seder during the war. He was as religious as he could be during the war. I do not remember if or how he reacted to the concentration camp during the miniseries. I am a bit ignorant of him, I know some information but not enough to speak any further. Both Liebgott and Edward Shames by Halacha are Jewish. Liebgott's mum is a Jew, so he's a Jew. Edward Shames' parents are both Jewish. Even though to a secular person they are not viewed as being equally Jewish... In my eyes, they kind of are.

This concludes part one of two. You can find part two here: X

#hbo war #band of brothers #easy company #joe liebgott #edward shames

[llynwen]

hi you're European right? I'm curious to know your thoughts about how the American south is portrayed in true detective bc I've been there and yes it's exactly like that but even moreso. Haunted ass beautiful country

Thank You So Much for such an interesting ask!

In the case of many europeans who were born before the Internet was such a big thing, we mostly learned about the us from films and shows. my childhood experience was watching reruns of spaghetti westerns and early 2000s rom coms, family comedies and kids movies, and feeling that the technicolor reality of america was somehow so much better than the Gray of eastern europe. the discrepancy isn't as noticeable now as it used to be when i was a kid, but you could Smell the post-sovietness some days. the life i saw in the movies was anything But the bleak, overwhelming reality of the early 2000s in my country that just made you feel nauseous and gave you a migraine. like i remember being Shocked at the technology of CDs and MP3 players. it was 2007.

the consensus was always that america was somewhere where everything was better. bigger. brighter. america was where you went to be happy. where you could breathe.

then, as i grew up, i obviously realized that this was a load of bullshit. i don't remember when the shift took place, but sometime in my teenage years, i suppose. by that time, my english has gotten good enough to actually participate in social media (that are predominantly american, like tumblr for example. i've been here for a decade) and actually engage in discourse. to learn about the Real america and what life looked like for the average person. and it wasn't great. guns, systemic oppression, privatized healthcare, the capitalist rot. none of that was present in the movies of my childhood.

now, in true detective, the south reminds me so much of how eastern europe felt in my childhood. it's nowhere near similar to it visually, the nature and architecture and people are all different, but it is Stifling, Suffocating, like the sky is gonna come down on your head. the ash and aluminum line actually describes it so good. what i was most surprised by, though, was the people. starting from marty (let's not focus on rusty here as we can all agree he doesn't really belong with the rest of the characters), he is a perfect example of the average family man. i love his character Because he's a shit and a cringeass loser, but in the scenes of him interacting with his daughters in '02, the feeling that he evokes in me is Disgust. and i feel like that's a common archetype of the father-provider that thinks his role in the house ends with making money. he sits in his chair, makes everybody miserable with his very presence, and expects the food to be brought to him. that man has never scrubbed a toilet in his life. i know men like him. i've met them, talked to them. i'm related to them. they're everywhere. that disgust feels intimate. now, the other characters that surprised me were the side characters, the people rust and marty go to question. tyrone's mother, the prostitutes, dora's friend at the scrap yard - they remind me of my people. now, i really don't want to come off as classist or some shit like that - but in both the show And my reality, the divide between the working class and the educated crowd is Stark. that is not to say that one is better than the other (i firmly believe that a lack of education can make you happier, if you think about it. content with a simple life, happy to work in a mine your whole life, live in a wielka płyta apartment and go to the sea once a year. if that. this is very specific to my region, sorry). the way those side characters talk, behave, even look - that is Nothing like the movies. they're not the flashy main characters, they're imperfect in every sense - they Look like people, have flaws, crooked teeth, they don't dress like supermodels, they can be stupid, they drink and smoke and cheat and lie. they're Human, not movie protagonists. and i love that reality in the show. makes it feel that much more authentic.

i don't know how specific that is to the south; are the people like that in other places? are the fishermen in luisiana the same as in minessota? is the suffocating feeling specific to the iberia parish, or is that just how it is in small town america? i dont know. the problem is, i wanna find out.

see, i never lost that childhood wonder. call me naive, but i still wanna Go. i still want to see the american dream with my own two eyes, even if it means i'm gonna watch it shatter in real time. i graduate college in a little over a year with a masters degree, and for right now my plan is to find a way to go work at a ranch in montana or wyoming. that's all i want. my favorite thing about america is not the culture, not the people, not the Possibility, but the Space. ironically, the stolen land is what compels me most. i want to experience that open space, to Breathe, and for the first time in my life feel my lungs filling up fully. i will be disappointed, full stop, but i want to have that experience.

the american south is a fascinating place to me, always has. the specific mix of cultures, the tradition and lack of it, even the bigotry and hate, it's all endlessly interesting. as you said, haunted but oh so beautiful. it scares the shit out of me. i need to go and feel it bite me.

#sorry for going off like that lmao #but yeah. thats them thoughts #if you wanna talk about it more PLEASE LEAVE ME ANOTHER ASK/RESPOND TO THIS/DM ME #thank you again for this ask #love you mwah mwah mwah #ask #true detective

[gemsofgreece]

Today something happened that I would like to talk about, because it reminded me how meaningless stereotypes are and how you don’t have to believe people with a self-placed badge of honour on their shirt.

We had a car crash. The responsibility was of the other car, rented by a family of seemingly put together tourists from a rich small Western European country that is considered like the heart of civilised West Europe (being vague but not really).

While we were waiting, a woman and a man ran to all of us, and because we were all a bit lost, they called the police for us and offered again and again to call an ambulance. They also offered to buy us water but we all refused, except we thanked them and told them to go home without worries. The others said nothing.

A little later a motorcyclist passed by, he gave us some advice and asked if we wanted water. This time my mother admitted she needed some and he left. He returned soon with bottles of water for us and the tourists. He tried to offer water bottles to the tourist kids but they were too distrustful. The adults took them. We all thanked him except I tried to give him the money and they did not. He did not accept it and said he just did the bare minimum.

The tourists “politely” tried to question that their responsibility was theirs. They did not look at us once, except maybe stealing some glances, and they did not bother apologising of course.

They, the notoriously environmentally conscious Europeans, drank the water that good man gave them and littered some poor person’s house by leaving the empty bottles on the window! I was about to tell them “they forgot their bottles” but they were quickly getting back into the rented car. The insurance representative, a super positive and pleasant man, commented that he had lived in big very disciplined Central European country next to that of the tourists, and these types of people there would straight out call the police on you for leaving your trash in a random place, but when they go on a foreign country or one they deem “inferior” like Greece, they are the first to unapologetically dump their trash anywhere they want like literally in other people’s properties.

A man who is an acquaintance passed by and was insisting to go back to his place and make us fresh juice as we were waiting for the insurance to be done with the report under this sizzling afternoon sun. We convinced him we were okay and we would soon be done.

Once we were done, the tourists took their kids from an internet cafe nearby, where I am willing to bet the cafe did not ask for a fee and they did not offer anything as a thanks. They took the kids, they left the bottles in the poor person’s house, they said no other word to the insurance guy and they did not near as looked at us of course. The car was rented, so the insurance company will pay for everything and they will go about their vacation without any repercussion whatsoever and without as much as an apologetic smile.

A relative learnt about it and came join us as we were waiting for the insurance report to be done. Then my relative chased the insurance guy to give him a tip, for being a pleasant and patient man working under this ruthless sun. The man refused, saying he was doing his job, but my relative put the money on his hand anyway.

I am saying all this, not to trash on anyone as a whole, but to show you how stereotypes mean nothing. I met a lot of lovely Greeks today and a bunch of civilised west European assholes. Honestly it’s like there was no emotion inside them except for suppressed anger or maybe, hopefully, a bit of concealed embarrassment. They did not even ask us if we were okay. Anyway faith in my country a little restored. Even before the accident, I just so happened to stumble onto many super helpful and caring people today. At least on that aspect, it was a day that made you feel you can hope.

#personal #thoughts #stereotypes #Greece #tw car crash

[retrowaving1]

Polish Versus Ukrainian Cuisine, Part 1

I have to confess, I have a little sin on my consciousness, namely, I visit Instagram sometimes. In most cases I do that just to catch up with my friends and family, but, you know, as most of young people of my age I just end up scrolling a tiny bit (usually, right until the moment I feel the urge to vomit, as I genuinely hate this place).

Recently, I came across a very cozy video where a Korean home cook mixes a Polish Pierogi Ruskie recipe with some Korean toppings. The thing that confused me the most, though, was the most liked comment under this video left by a Ukrainian woman who claimed that Pierogi Ruskie is a Ukrainian dish and is, in fact, called Varenyky. It's easy to assume that this person has never made a single dumpling, varenyk or pieróg in her entire life, as she kept on claiming that Pierogi Ruskie can have a lot of different fillings and that Polish Pierogi don't have such a big choice of fillings as Ukrainian Varenyky do, so, clearly, this person had zero idea what Pierogi Ruskie actually are, but that's not the point.

This comment made me wonder how different are the two cuisines of those Eastern and Central European countries. Having lived for a long time in both countries, I thought it would be interesting to study this topic a little bit, namely from the perspective of the difference between the staple dishes in two cuisines. After all, we actually are what we eat, especially on the global scale. Everyone knows Italy for their brilliant pizza and pasta, and everyone knows Japan for sushi and tempura, and even though food is not the only aspect of those cultures that made them famous around the world, it definitely adds up to create a full picture of their collective cultural identity.

So, in this post I'd like to share some personal observations that I made throughout my life about Polish and Ukrainian cuisine having lived significant portions of life in both countries, being ethnically related to both and being wholeheartedly fascinated by food.

Disclaimer!!! I'm not a food scientist or chef, nor am I a professional historian. All the notes down here are mostly based on my personal observations and some basic research. I did consult a professional cook and a baker whom I know personally as they happen to be my family members. I do recommend treating everything I share here with a grain of salt (hehe, because we gonna talk 'bout cookin', hehe, so use salt) and bear in mind that different cooks have different approaches to their recipes and your personal experience with Ukrainian and Polish food might differ from mine. That being said, I encourage you to share these experiences whether you are Ukrainian, Polish or anyone else, really. I do not accept such arguments as "Ruskie because Kyiv Rus!", though, as it's not about arguing in the first place, it's about diving into the heritage of those two countries and talking about the food.

Pierogi vs. Вареники

Let's start with them culprits. I think those two dishes are the most confusing ones because of their similarity. Gosh, both of them are dumplings from Europe shaped like a growing moon, aren't they?

The dough for both dishes varies from region to region, from cook to cook. In my experience, both recipes need three basic ingredients:

- liquid

- salt

- flour

The rest depends, really. You can change the four, you can change the liquid, replacing water with milk or kefir, you can add an egg. I personally go with my mother's recipe which is boiling hot water, egg, AP flour and salt.

Two of the striking differences are their size and shape. It seems like Ukrainian dumplings are usually smaller, flatter and quite translucent in comparison to Polish ones, which are big, sometimes even huge (check Pierogi Po Bieszczadzku, they are bigger than my fists, I kid you not), they have a very full body and the dough itself is thicker (the reason is not so much ingredients in the dough as is the method of forming/cutting the circles out of it). They also have a lot of different really funny regional names which very often also refer to the size, shape, filling or method of preparation, for instance, Dzyndzałki (Warmian small dumplings served in soup), Bulwanki (Eastern Polish holiday pierogi with variety of savoury fillings), Sasznie (A type of dumplings from Eastern Borderlands that use potato in the dough) or Sójki (Masovian baked pierogi made with yeast).

The fillings of both Pierogi and Varenyky basically might create their own multiverse. In both Poland and Ukraine, I found so many different combinations of fillings that it would be a waste of time to write about each one of them. However, Pierogi most often have savoury fillings (from meat through cheese and potatoes though different types of groats and the list goes on and on..), while Varenyky have a bigger variety of sweet fillings, including the classic cherry filling. Also, Ukrainians seem to be not very much into the meat filling. In my childhood, I had never eaten meat dumplings in Ukraine, however, at the time, pelmeni were quite a popular alternative. Ah, classic Soviet influence - replace your own with something russian )yuck.

As for the toppings, depending on what kind of filling you are dealing with, there are many alternatives for both dishes, including chives, fried bacon, sour cream, melted butter, caramel sauce (haven't seen this one in Ukraine, but noticed it being popular in Poland with sweet cottage cheese Pierogi) and many others. Both dishes are absolutely marvelous even without any additions.

Now, if anyone says that Pierogi Ruskie are called that way because they are Ukrainian, they are not entirely wrong. This type of pierogi was invented in Eastern Galicia (a geographical region in Western Ukraine which was also used to refer to the Eastern part of Poland; The name derives from its Polish name of territory - "Ruś Czerwona" ("Ruthenia Rubra" in Latin)), however there's a high chance it happened when it was the part of Austrian Empire, when majority of population in this region, especially in big cities including Lviv, were Polish. Either way, this dish is much more popular in modern Poland and has lots of different regional variations that you can meet across the whole country (see the Bryndzylki designed by Polish Highlanders), while it's basically non-existent in Ukraine and in the country they are often called "польські пироги" (literally "Polish Pierogi"). Pierogi Ruskie are prepared with cheese, onion and potato filling, while in Ukraine you are more likely to come across some Varenyky with potato, onion and bacon filling.

Thank you very much for your attention, share your dumpling preferences and experiences in the comments or in the reblogs, share your recipes, go crazy, and let's discuss the food!!

My pierogi variation with cottage cheese and strawberry jam filling (not the most attractively shaped one, but very tasty - my significant other approved them):

#poland #ukraine #pierogi #varenyky #polish cuisine #ukrainian cuisine #polish culture #ukrainian culture #dumplings #cultural differences #culturalheritage #culturalexploration #polska #polska tradycja #polish tumblr

[whenthegoldrays]

hiii elly <3

kinda bored lately and wanted to watch something so came here for recs :) could be of any kind btw like movies, tv shows (any language)

also maybe not something from your top ten kdramas post lol i've already watched most of the shows on there

also how're you doing?

hope you're doing well <33

Hey girl hey! Thank you for asking, I'm doing well! Terribly busy, but on the whole things are good. How about you?

Oooh okay this is quite a thing to ask me, I'm going to get decision paralysis dhdvdvdg but let me think of some less-common things I can recommend!

Available on Prime Video.

The Surprise (2015). Also available on Tubi. After inking their own death warrants, an eccentric millionaire and distraught woman fall in love and find voiding their contracts isn't an option. Romance! Dark humor! The k-drama truck of doom, except it's a Dutch movie! (Disclaimer: I do not recommend watching this film if one is suicidal)

From Prada to Nada (2011). A modern Mexican-American adaptation of Sense and Sensibility that surprisingly really works?? The title is woeful but the movie is pretty darn good.

The Lady Vanishes (2013). Iris Carr is traveling across Europe by train when she befriends Miss Froy, an elderly English woman. But when she wakes up from a few hours' sleep, Miss Froy has vanished. As fellow passengers claim the lady never existed, Iris fights to discover the fate of Miss Froy - and prove that she's not going mad.

Love and Friendship (2016). Adaptation of Jane Austen's Lady Susan, starring Kate Beckinsdale. The main character is the definition of gaslight gatekeep girlboss, and the supporting characters are all just. so funny.

To Tell The Truth (1961). If you just want something to distract you that doesn't take a lot of thinking, old game shows are ideal. In this one, a celebrity panel tries to guess which of three strangers is the person they claim to be.

Masterpiece/PBS Passport Shows.

All Creatures Great and Small (since 2020). Season 4 currently airing. A feel-good (but unafraid to get real and sad) show about the misadventures of a country vet practice in Yorkshire.

Miss Scarlet and the Duke (since 2020). Season 4 currently airing. In 1880s London, the daughter of a private investigator decides to take over his detective business after his untimely death. Mystery series that also has just about the BEST opening titles ever.

Available on Tubi (which is free!)

Forever Young (1992). The movie where I realized that Mel Gibson was cute, actually. In 1939, a heartbroken Army pilot volunteers for a cryogenics experiment and wakes up in 1992, where he gets a second shot at love.

The Space Between Us (2017). On his first visit to Earth, a man born and raised on Mars bonds with a street-smart young woman while unraveling the mysteries of how he came to be. To quote my mutual Chris: "wanna cry? 🥰"

The Dick Van Dyke Show (1960s). Some of the stuff hasn't aged well, but this is still one my top favorite old sitcoms. All the characters are so fun and endearing. You probably won't want to sift through all five seasons, so my top episode recommendations are "The Curious Thing About Women" (s1 e16), "The Two Faces of Rob" (s2 e2), "That's My Boy??" (s3 e1), "Big Max Calvada" (s3 e9), "October Eve" (s3 e28), "My Mother Can Beat Up My Father" (s4 e1), "4 1/2" (s4 e7), "The Impractical Joke" (s4 e16), and "Coast to Coast Big Mouth" (s5 e1).

(I got a little too excited with those episode recs, oopsie 🤭)

The Surprise, like I mentioned.

I just found out that they have some episodes of The Flintstones and Tom and Jerry on Tubi, if you want some good nostalgic laughs.

Available on Netflix.

Love At First Sight (2023). Cute romance about taking a chance on a good feeling.

The Adam Project (2022). You've probably seen it, but I will mention it anyway! Time travel. Annoying and precocious 12-year-old child. Ryan Reynolds and Zoe Saldaña. Jennifer Garner and Mark Ruffalo! FIVE STARS.

Trevor Noah: I Wish You Would (2022). The best Trevor Noah special, in my opinion. The curry story??? Iconic forever and ever.

The Full-Time Wife Escapist (2018). A woman takes a job as a housekeeper, but in order to stay in it, she and her boss agree to a contract marriage. If you've ever seen the k-drama Because This Is My First Life... This is the better version of that show, imo. The ML is suchhh a sweetheart.

Indian Matchmaking (since 2020). I never watch reality TV, so I don't know how I started seeing this show, but it's SO good and super bingeable.

Omg the Jurassic Park movies are on Netflix right now

Available on Hulu.

Wild Mountain Thyme (2020). It's a love story, and it's so silly and enjoyable. The resolution is just shdhfhshshsg

The Giver (2014). Jonas learns the secrets of the past, and the utopia he's grown up in begins to look more and more dystopian. Also, Taylor Swift is there for some reason.

Flamin' Hot (2023). It wasn't until I watched this that I realized how much I need movies about Mexican success stories in my life. File this under ✨inspirational✨

If you haven't yet watched The Artful Dodger (2023), you absolutely should. Come for the romance, stay for the absolutely bonkers, insane hijinks.

I barely started watching Timeless (2016), but it looks really fun and good. It's about time travel, unsurprisingly for me 🤭

Available on Disney+

Baby's Day Out (1994). A childhood CLASSIC of mine. The cuteness is just. so much. The humor is standard slapstick, but really fun, and the mom has some of the most gorgeous 90s outfits omggg

Hidden Figures (2016). I love this movie endlesslyyy. Awesome intelligent Black women overcoming the odds, space race setting, and even a side of cute romance.

The Art of Racing in the Rain (2019). Dare I say, best dog movie I've seen?

The Call of the Wild (2020). Another dog movie, with Harrison Ford. I don't remember much of it but I remember really enjoying it.

Milo Murphy's Law (2017–2018). Have you seen this follow-up to Phineas and Ferb? If you haven't, you need to. The comedy is so gold tier and the music slaps.

Delicacies Destiny (2022). I kind of stopped watching this c-drama about 1/3 of the way through, but I totally should pick it up again, and it's worth watching even if just for all the gorgeous food scenes.

And of course, anything from my top ten k-dramas that you haven't seen yet is an automatic recommendation 😌

This got. so long. I hope you find something here that you like and thank you for asking @milkteawithrusk!! This was so fun to put together! 🫶🏼

#ask elly #milkteawithrusk #movie recs #show recs #long post #tw suicide

[fuckyeah-jessicabiel]

Jessica Biel for CosmoGirl October/November 1999 by Jodi Bryson 

Find out why this 7th Heaven star is the coolest friend a girl could have!  

"I'm definitely weird," Jessica Biel confesses as she digs  through the knick-knacks in her bedroom.   "I have some really wild  stuff."  She points out her collection of vintage sunglasses, a bunch of  so-bright-they're-blinding wigs, dozens of phone numbers taped to the  wall, and her favorite Abercrombie & Fitch ad.  "He is the hottest  Abercrombie model ever," she says.  

The 17 year old star of 7th Heaven just finished her third season  on the show and aced her junior year of high school.  Now she's  flinging clothes around her bedroom to prep for a European vacation with  two of her closest friends.  "I want to go someplace I've never been  with people I really love hanging out with," she says.  "I want to see  some amazing things."  

Jessie has that I'll-try-anything-once outlook down pat.  She  started her career as a model, but at 14 decided to give acting a whirl.   Like in a Hollywood fairy tale, she flew to L.A. and had just a few  auditions before scoring the primo role of Mary Camden.  

Jessie works on 7th Heaven six days a week, nine months a year.   But as soon as she steps off the set, straight-arrow Mary vanishes and  the real Jessie charms everyone around her with warp-speed chitchat  about her big plans for the future (a backpacking trip with her best  friend, college, and maybe a second career as a photographer).  Clearly,  Jessie is ready to take on the world.  First stop, Europe!  

The Big Trip 

"I have no idea what to expect," Jessie says of her European  vacation, "but I just can't wait to eat that good food!"  Is she worried  about travelling to strange countries where she doesn't know a soul?   "No, I'm very excited.  My mom has a checklist of things for me to do  before I go:  Make copies of my passport, driver's license, and credit  cards; pack these things close to my body but separate from my wallet.   My mother has planed it all out -- I just gotta do it."  

Jessie makes a surprisingly small pile of clothes at the bottom  of her bed, then crams it into a backpack.  "I'm honestly taking one  pair of pants, a T-shirt, a couple pairs of shorts, a few tank tops, a  sweatshirt, a bathing suit, and two pairs of underwear that I'll keep  throwing in the sink.  My camera is the most important thing."  

In addition to taking tons of snaps, Jessie has dreamed up the  coolest way to keep track of her European adventures.  "Instead of a  private diary, I'm going to take a big book, like a communal journal,  and anyone can write in it," she says.  "If someone says, 'Can I see  your journal and write a little entry?' that's cool.  It will be nice to  look back and read what we all did and what we felt together."  Bon  voyage!  

Best Friends  

Her travelling companions are her friends Shane Nelson and Light  Dreamer Eternity.  "Light rocks so hard," Jessie says.  And even though  she lives in L.A. now, Jessie is still supertight with her best friend  from her hometown of Boulder, Colorado, who's also named Jessie.  "I  have pictures of Jessie and me stuck all over my room," she says.   What's her secret for maintaining such strong friendships?  "There's  never the silent treatment," Jessie explains. "If I was in a fight with a  friend, I would just call and be like, What is the deal?  What did I  do?  What do we need to talk about?  How can we get it over with?"   Jessie's the kind of friend who wouldn't let you stay mad at her.  

A Special Guy  

Will her absence make anyone's heart grow fonder?  Jessie let it  slip that she has a long-distance boyfriend, but then she wouldn't spill  a single detail! (And believe us, we begged!)   But she did share her  sure-fire hook-up advice.  "I'm pretty forward with guys," she says.   "I'll just walk up to somebody and I'll be really blunt and say, 'What a  great-looking person you are!  Have an awesome day.'"   Does that  really work?  "Well, I don't say that to a guy because I want him to be  my boyfriend," she says.  "I just want to tell him."   What guy could  resist?  

Prom Night  

Unfortunately, Jessie didn't get to take her secret boyfriend to  her junior prom.  "I promised Beverley Mitchell [who plays her younger  sister Lucy on 7th Heaven] that I'd go to her friend's prom.  And she  made me promise that I wouldn't back out.  I found out a week later that  my prom was the exact same day!  So I missed my prom to go to another  prom with this kid who didn't have a date," she says.  She didn't skimp  on glamour for her first prom experience: She wore an elegant white  cami-and-skirt combo with superhigh-heeled sandals.  "It turned out that  we had a good time, but Bev totally owes me!"  

Bad Behavior  

Jessie doesn't always play it so straight and narrow.  There's a  sneaky story about the pink flamingo hanging from her bedroom ceiling.  

"We had just sold our house in Boulder, Colorado, and I loved  that house," she says.  "I wanted to see it one more time.   When my  best friend Jessie and I drove up to it, my eyes welled up -- there was a  pink flamingo sticking out of my front yard!  It was the chessiest  thing I'd ever seen.  I was not happy with that flamingo.  I thought,  This has to go.  So I ran and ripped it out of the ground.  I busted to  the car and yelled, 'Go, Jessie, go!' and we just took off.  I pulled  out the stick and put the flamingo in my suitcase, and took it home with  me," she says.  "I don't think the family even knew it was missing."  Um, Jessie...they do now.  

BRIGHT FUTURE  

Even though Jessie's a totally fearless adventurer, she still  gets homesick for Boulder.  "I miss the people, I miss the mountains.   It is so laid-back there," she explains.   Does she ever see herself  going back to settle down in the Rocky Mountain foothills?  "I have one  more year of high school, which seems like it's going to take forever --  and then I'm on my own!  I can be wherever I want to be!"   Look out  world -- here she comes!"  

#jessica biel #cover #cosmo girl #articles #1999 #james dean #jimmi hendrix #magazines

[dcbbw]

Sneak Peek Sunday

Hoppy Easter to all the Tumblrs that celebrate! 

I am behind on a ton of deadlines posting-wise. I’m just dealing with a LOT: medical issues, legal issues, family drama, and hot-ass messiness at work. I’m also pondering my future on tumblr, but for now I do have at least 4 more fics that I intend to write, and post here: an MC lunch ask, #KLAW submission, @bebepac​’s birthday fic, and possibly a Drake-centric fic inspired by a song (or two) currently on repeat in my Spotify.

All of that is to say I DO have something to share: snippets from two fics that WILL be posted this week: my submission for Maxwell Beaumont’s birthday appreciation and my Luck of the Draw fic.

Snippets are below the cut, and a little longer than six sentences as I only have two entries this time around. As always everything is in a state of rough draft; final versions may vary.

Birthday Boy

Once again, it’s my birthday. A milestone one: The big 3-5.

I remember when I thought 35 was old.

I’m celebrating at the Great House that belongs to the duchy King Liam bestowed upon my wife. I’m celebrating with family, friends, and members of Cordonian Court. How I’m greeted lets me know which category a person falls into.

The East Ballroom has been transformed from cold marble and stiff curtains into a discotheque, complete with sequined balls suspended from the ceiling, a DJ, and a dance floor with color-lit tiles. At the moment, the children of Court are playing hopscotch on it while the adults partake of the buffet tables and open bars.

As I make my way through the throng, I grin, shake hands, and thank people for coming. I see my children in my peripheral vision and feel my heart swell to near bursting; my daughter is the spit and image of her namesake, Annabelle. My mother. Her tobacco-colored ringlets bounce as she skips over squares colored green, blue, red, purple. Her sapphire-blue eyes squint in concentration, and her plump lips part as she emits laughs and squeals.  

Her brother Dimitri, two years younger, follows behind her as he clumsily mimics her movements while yelling it’s his turn. He has dark hair and brown eyes like his mother, but he gets his personality from me.

I press forward, my wife now in my sights. Her dark hair is in an upsweep knot, and her cream-colored gown flows over her body. I pause to take her in and marvel at how far she’s advanced since Social Season. She’s no longer coarse and rough-edged; now she’s polished and cultured.

Sometimes.

She’s talking to the King and Queen, and I can tell from her posture the conversation is either agitating or exciting her. Her hands are gesticulating wildly; I already know words are tumbling from her lips as if they were balls being lobbed from a machine.

The King’s eyes roll in amusement while my wife talks; I assume it’s excitement that has my partner so animated. Liam tugs his Queen closer to him just as Crown Princess Eleanor tugs at her mother’s dress and pulls the monarchs’ attention.

As I draw closer to the trio, I wonder for the zillionth time how she’s with me.

After all, she came to Cordonia for Liam.

She stays in Cordonia because of Liam.

Three Blind Mice (LotD, Chapter 6 of The Commoner’s Wife)

“I appreciate your obvious…. attraction to me, Your Highness, but my heart and affections have been claimed by another.”

“You mean your best friend’s wife? Listen to me, Your Majesty….no royal or noble worth their salt will accept a divorced commoner as Queen. Your court will be the laughingstock of Europe and you…. you’ll be the biggest scandal since King Edward VIII. At least he was lucky enough to choose love over Crown, but you don’t have that luxury, do you? Your brother beat you to it.”

“What I do with my personal life, especially when it takes place in Cordonia, is no one’s business but mine. And if you wish our countries to remain in good standing, you will stop talking,” Liam growled.

“Even when it involves fucking other men’s wives?” Marguerite arched an eyebrow.

She lowered it when Liam’s eyes narrowed dangerously. The Princess still needed to make an advantageous match; Liam was the best of the lot. When she spoke again, her tone was more conciliatory.

“Darling, I’m offering you not only a union, but an alliance … a chance to rule over two countries, not just one. We don’t need to be in love and arrangements can be put in place, but only one of us can be scandalous, and I’ve already claimed dibs on that.”

The Princess smiled brightly before downing the remainder of her beverage. She looked around the room before setting the champagne flute on the table in front of her and gathering her purse.

“I’m sure the three of you have much to discuss; I’ll see myself out,” she spoke to everyone and no one.

She began rummaging inside her bag, murmuring to Liam that he could email her a non-disclosure agreement. “As juicy as this morning has been, I wouldn’t tell anyone; however, I understand the need for assurance.”

Marguerite rose, a plastic keycard between her fingers which she offered to Drake.

“Retaliation fucks can be most satisfying. I have a standing room at the Savoy Five Kingdoms. They have an excellent bar and even better room service. Drop by anytime today; I fly out in the morning.”

Riley’s face was dark with anger; her eyes held a flicker of fear.

Liam’s head fell into his open palms.

Drake stared blankly at the key before raising his eyes to the monarch of Monaco.

“Fuck you,” he spat.

Marguerite looked puzzled as she tucked the key into his jacket’s breast pocket.

“That’s the entire purpose, darling.”

Tagging: @jared2612​ @ao719​ @marietrinmimi​ @queenjilian​ @indiacater​ @kingliam2019​ @bebepac​ @liamxs-world​ @mom2000aggie​ @liamrhysstalker2020​ @neotericthemis​ @twinkleallnight​ @umccall71​ @superharriet​ @busywoman​ @gabesmommie1130​ @tessa-liam​ @beezm​ @gardeningourmet​ @lovingchoices14​ @mainstreetreader​ @angelasscribbles​ @lady-calypso​ @emkay512​ @princessleac1​ @charlotteg234​ @queenrileyrose​ @alj4890​ @yourfavaquarius111​ @motorcitymademadame​ @queenmiarys​ @choicesficwriterscreations​

#dcbbw writes #wips #maxwell beaumont #the commoner's wife #liam x riley #drake x riley

[vi-sigoth]

Man... why is it so hard to find normal Gaelic pagans?

Dude. Tell me about it. I suffer everyday.

If I had to guess though—my guesses would be:

1. The Isles were Christianized earlier than, say, Scandinavia, and big swathes of the Slavic regions, so there were less years of recorded pagan practices that we have knowledge of extending into the beginning and middle of the Medieval period.

2. For one reason or another, there’s been a big revival of interest in Norse/Germanic practice. This isn’t necessarily a recent thing, either. You had Wagner heavily leaning into Germanic myth and aesthetics with his Ring Cycle. You had, whether you agree with him or not, Adolf Hitler and his men rejecting the church’s hold on Germany and reviving interest in Germanic belief (what Adolf Hitler and those closest to him personally believed is a whole other can of worms and too long for this post.) the West is fascinated with Norse-Germanic belief and “Viking” aesthetics because I think in many people’s view, the Norse were the last holdout against the tide of Abrahamism in Europe (which unfortunately does a massive disservice to the Slavs and Balts who often held out for much longer, even until the Soviet period). More recently, you have groups like Wardruna and Heilung and their many copycats rising to popularity. You have (ugh) the show Vikings, which, for better or for worse, brought Norse belief and Viking Age culture back into the public eye. Piggybacking off the popularity of that was Robert Eggers’ masterpiece The Northman. You don’t have a lot of this with Celtic culture, either Islander or continental, because:

3. Protestantism simply put, did not succeed in keeping hold of Scandinavia and the northern parts of Germany like Catholicism did for Ireland, for France. That statement might piss people off, but the difference in how secular Sweden is versus Ireland is pretty staggering. (Yeah, yeah, I know, racial and religious demographics are rapidly shifting and people will ask what about Scotland, what about Wales? It’s complicated.)

4. FUCKINF. WICCIANISM. Gerald Gardner and Rocket Graves, may they suffer for eternity, did untold damage to Islander paganism. Gardner cherry-picked from many European traditions, but he used (cherry-picked) Islander Celtic belief as the glue to hold it together, and mixed that with Thelema, and Khabbalah, which, do I even have to explain why neither of these things have no place in Europe? He and Graves took advantage of the burgeoning pagan revivals and general disillusionment with Christianity people had after WWII. Robert Graves’ The White Goddess is now used as a blueprint for reconstructing Celtic paganism. Despite the fact that he couldn’t back up any of his “research” and couldn’t cite a single source, and that nearly every single academic that studies pre-Christian European belief has rejected it as utter nonsense, I STILL see people claiming to be “Druids” who cite this book. So you have The White Goddess, and Wiccanism/New Age nonsense, which has been bleeding for decades into any genuine attempt at reconstruction. People tend to see the hippie or Earth mother types that flock to this and think. “Yeah, no thanks.”

There are no recent, big budget, well-filmed, well acted movies that depict any of the Irish, Scottish, Welsh, or Cornish (yeah, remember them? Barely any one else does) myth. Almost no one knows how much Celtic blood is in all of Europe. In Greece, in the southern Slavic countries, in Italy, in Switzerland, and the Netherlands and Austria. Bavarians can up to nearly 50% Celt DNA! So can Spaniards! There are no cool depictions of naked Gauls slathered in blue woad hurling themselves at Roman soldiers, ripping their shields apart with their bare hands, running up their shield walls and diving into the fray, racing through Europe in their immaculate chariots. It’s sad. I’d give my right arm to see a Robert Eggers directed movie about that, or about Fion mac Cumhail. The Celts were just as fierce and powerful as any Viking raider you can name, and what do we get? Derry Girls and movies about The Troubles. Which is fine. Ireland in 1900 and more recently was certainly not a boring place to be. But there’s just so much more.

Best we can do, friend, is keep making people of Celtic heritage aware of their history, their people, their gods, and make THAT Celtic history popular in the culture.

Then we get our Robert Eggers Gaul movie.

[randomvieww]

Slavic and Shadow and Bone Rant

When you are not Slavic enough for a Slavic project

For years, Hollywood has been trying to erase Slavic people and Eastern Europe as whole from their definition of diversity. But when they decided to include this group of ethnicity, it is always the villain, or the stupid guy, or all the Russian stereotypes even though the character come from a different country. And basically there is not a proper Slavic representation in media, where someone can look at and say “She/he looks like me” and etc.

*Spoilers for Shadow and Bone*

Leigh Bardugo tried to use the Slavic culture but went wrong on so many levels. The only close character who was a piece of a Slavic character is yet again the villain, the Darkling, especially his hate-love relationship with his mother Bagrah. Darkling would always fight with her but at the end when she jumped to save Alina, it shows that he cared for her. Plus they were together for centuries just like a Slavic relationship between mother and son.

Another thing, that LB did wrong was changing the last names, Starkov for Alina and Morazova for the Darkling which for many Slavic readers is totally offending. For females, the last name it ends with -va and for males, it ends with -v. She tried to explain that it was the world of fantasy but she still erase a big part of the Slavic culture. LB could easily choose a gender neutral lass names.

Through out the whole Grishaverse whe didn’t see enough of the Ravkan culture. The only thing we saw was a poor country and an industrially behind country, like most of the Slavic counties. She could had include some of the Slavic traditions or behaviors but she decided to ignore them and focus on the bad side of the Slavic people.

The adaptation of the books was even worse. They choose to film in Hungary (which is not a Slavic country). If Ravka is based on a Slavic country then it is more logical to chose a Slavic place to film it, to match the environment. They also cast all British cast and only one Slavic who has less then 10 minutes of screen time for the whole season. In my opinion the actors did an amazing job in portraying the characters but the British accent it was pulled me off. Again if Ravkan is based on Russia then they should have a Russian accent. Even though they didn’t cast a Slavic actors, they still can do accent.

It is really sad as a Slavic person to find so little of my culture and if so to be always portrayed as a bad guy or a stupid one. As if we are not capable of doing the right things and we are less the other cultures. The Slavic culture and landmarks are unique to the world and people deserve to see the good side of this countries.

#slavic #Slavic representation #anti shadow and bone show #anti lb #anti leigh bardugo