#I haven't even been to any of those countries

[joonsytip]

Withering for You || Seungcheol - Epilogue

Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au

Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.

Warnings (specific to this part): tears, profanities, everyone is hurt and sad, mention of alcohol consumption, lovesickness, healing, friendly threats, suggestive

Word Count: 5.7k

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

You're enjoying the peace and calmness that moving to a different country has brought within. It has been half a year since your divorce with Seungcheol had been settled, been four months of you making a decision seemingly best for you by moving out.

Both you and Seungkwan had wanted to open several branches of your academy all around the world because you both believed that music transcends barriers and connects souls.

Though your motive while shifting was a break from everything but it also resoluted to build another branch rooted to Melodease.

You are busy nowadays, given you've to overlook the purchase and legal matters, start taking care of the design, contract and staffing. Seungkwan has offered to come over and share the workload but you're always the one to brush it off. Because keeping yourself busy is the only way to not overthink about that one person whom you wanted to spend the rest of life but apparently it was too much of an ask.

The divorce, you had tried everything to withdraw it but you should have known, it was Seungcheol who wanted for it to happen at any cost. So eventually you succumbed to his stubbornness. He wasn't even willing to face you, making it impossible for you to reach out to him so you couldn't quite recollect when was the last time you saw him. All you could remember is he never again made an eye contact with you, since he left your house that fateful night.

A rift has been created between you and your friends. You were so mad at all of them for making Seungcheol aware of the bitter past that you've been hiding. They got earfuls from you whenever they breathed in your direction. You had stopped humouring them, even going as far as to inform them about your departure just two days before. A huge fuss was caused by Mingyu and Eunsoo while Seungkwan and Wonwoo blamed themselves quietly.

When Wonwoo had arrived at your doorstep the night before your departure to apologise and ask you to reconsider your decision, you in turn had assigned him a task which you couldn't do yourself.

Your parents visit you from time to time and it's your brother who crashes at your place the most because though everyone hesitates, he's the only one who doesn't lend an ear to your protests.

"It's been half a year, don't you think you should let loose and forgive those four.", Chan voices out distressed as he once again sees the string of texts and voice messages he received in the group chat he was suddenly added to one day just so your friends could get updates of you.

"You don't understand Chan. It was not their decision to make. You don't think I could have told Seungcheol if I wanted to?", you sit down frowning, "We did end up getting divorced after all. And even though I'd have dealt with my career, I don't know how he is doing on his own because now he would neither even confide in his family and nor he has many friends. It has become a fight against his family, against the people he cherished the most."

Chan understands your friends but most importantly he understands you, he nods and sighs, "There's something I haven't told you."

"Did Seungcheol come and apologize to you, mom and dad after I left?", you say giving a small smile.

Chan is flabbergasted, "How did you know?"

"I just guessed. I knew he'd come someday, it's only after I left. Wish I could have just gotten a glimpse of him before coming here. Why do I miss him?", you say suddenly fanning your face and look up trying to blink away the tears. Chan observes you silently.

Your heart still beats for Seungcheol.

Seungcheol rubs the wedding band which sits on his finger, lost in thoughts he then proceeds to caress the other wedding band the one he wears in a chain, which is also yours.

In the last few months, he solely focused on destroying Jiah. He went on to dig her past and accumulate every malicious deed, hurtful comments or poor gestures done by her throughout her life including all her flings. If it would have been earlier he would have had a hard time believing it all but not anymore. After gathering every possible bit, he made his PR team to work overtime to destroy her image. Each day new articles would resurface by random journalists on several platforms.

"I'm sorry, Cheol", Jiah cries at his feet, hands clasped, begging, "Please please just stop, I'm ruined."

Seungcheol laughs completely apathetic, "This has just begun. I'll bring you on the streets. I make you cry tears of blood."

Jiah looks him at horrified, "I'm begging you, we are best friends Cheol--"

Seungcheol burns at her words, "Since you showed me how best of a friend you are, it's my turn to show how great I can be. I won't stop until you dread hearing my name, until you regret what you've done. Hell, you've just heard of it, I'll make you live in it."

"I'll do anything you want, I'll apologise to Y/N please spare me.", Jiah continues to beg.

"Don't you dare utter her name with your filthy mouth. For the tears you made her cry, I'll make you cry tenfold. If you think there's gonna be an end to it, no, you'd suffer till your consciousness stays with you."

Then he makes the security drag her out of the building, onto the road.

Using her now completely ruined image, he pulled all cards to ruin off her father's company. Though he felt bad for her parents but they should have raised their daughter well and since they didn't it fell on their plate as well. That's what he had said to her father when he had the business go bankrupt.

Seungcheol doesn't stop here, he's still finding ways to put Jiah behind the bars, and if concrete proof doesn't knock on his door, he has his mind set on creating a whole new room of miseries for his said best friend.

But nothing he does gives him a sense of fulfillment. He's empty, heartbroken and a looser in love. Every time he remembers the way he had treated you, the schemes he had plotted against you, the venomous words he had said to you and the hatred he harboured towards you, they make him wanna disappear from the face of earth.

His parents don't get to see him, there's no monthly family dinner at the Choi's anymore.

Seungcheol who wanted to have you as his in all of the lifetimes, doesn't dare to make such a wish anymore. He has failed you, so he accepts the fact that you deserve the best. Someone who's not him. Someone who gives you all the smiles and none of the tears.

The wedding gown which you left untouched in his closet when you had moved out, Seungcheol walks in every night just to hold the garment. He imagines you in it and hugs it to his chest pouring his heart out. Each night  the empty house echoes his cries. The composition you had gifted him on his birthday, he plays it everyday while reminiscing the times he has got to spend with you.

His heart only beats for you.

"You are in love with your ex husband who's in love with you as well? I still don't get why you both are divorced."

You roll your eyes and walk past Jihoon who doesn't bother to follow behind because you'd be able to hear him anyways.

"Make it make sense, from what I heard...", his brows quirk up and nods at himself, "The bigshot Choi Seungcheol is being unnecessarily dramatic when you both can now live happily ever after."

You throw him a glare, "Don't you dare call him dramatic. He's in a rough spot and going through hell. But since he's stubborn and won't listen to anyone, we'll both keep wallowing in pity."

Jihoon gives you a look, "At least you're sensible. Anyways, you'd always see a DND board on my cabin's door. So please don't hesitate to get lost and not show your face to me."

You're neither surprised nor disappointed.

Lee Jihoon is a prodigal producer who's renowned around the world for his compositions. He can play every instrument in and out (claimed by people) specialising in Violin. You and Seungkwan had been eyeing him since long for managing your academy and it took you a lot of effort and determination to be able to rope him in. The man is always snappy and unfiltered. He knows he ain't people pleaser thus, he likes his space and doesn't allow interference. You just have to trust and leave the rest up to him and it'll be all taken care of.

Surprisingly, he knew you as well and though he would never admit, you're guessing the only reason he agreed to manage the new branch because as an artist he felt violated with your supposed plagiarism case. That he empathizes with you.

You don't usually go around sharing your personal life with everyone but with Jihoon it came in candid. Gradually, he came to know about you and you about him. The man is a feline who can differentiate good from bad. So after pulling many late nights and over many drinks, you both have become comfortable with each other. So comfortable that he treats you as his errand woman and every time you dare to protest he threatens to breach the contract because as he brags he has money. That annoying mf--

Jihoon knows he shouldn't be nosy but also he couldn't turn a blind eye to how you cry every time you get wasted. How whenever you bring up your husband there's an abyss of longing in your eyes. Though you're diligent and pushing yourself hard, your mind always reels back to him.

"It's your birthday next week, what do you want?", Jihoon asks and tuts instantly, "Except for Seungcheol, I can't give you him."

"Nothing.", you state blatantly, "Just stay with the academy."

"Nevermind, trying to give you Seungcheol sounds easier.", Jihoon jokes and the cushion he receives on his face isn't uncalled for.

Nobody is as distressed as Mingyu. He hasn't seen you in months, you don't talk to him like before. He feels guilty. He shouldn't have involved himself in your matters when he knew why you tried so hard to cover the truth. He regrets urging Eunsoo to confess to Wonwoo because even though she presses that she's fine and masters at hiding her feelings whenever in the same room as Wonwoo, he knows she isn't exactly doing well. It's been quite a time and neither you nor Eunsoo are doing well. Not like Wonwoo or Seungcheol are doing any better.

So he thinks it's only the doable, he needs to take the matters into his hands, if not alone atleast with Chan and Seungkwan. It might try to fix things one last time, with no expectations, no agendas of his own.

When Chan asked Mingyu to accompany him somewhere, he found it odd but agreed nonetheless.

His face changes when he finds himself infront of Seungcheol's house.

"If you see any tendencies of violence in my speech or body language just hold me back. I don't wanna beat Seungcheol but actually I do wanna beat him.", Chan says as they enter the house.

Mingyu is already breaking in cold sweat and the only accountable relief is Wonwoo's presence. When they see Seungcheol, both Chan and Mingyu are shocked at his state. He looks sick and tired.

"Are you okay?", Mingyu asks and Seungcheol nods. That's when his eyes falls behind and he sees the large wedding picture frame hung on the wall. His eyes linger further and he sees how on every wall there are pictures of you, or you and him.

Chan witnesses that Seungcheol's doing as bad as you, maybe worse. Seungcheol has not been able to meet his eyes since he knew about the past like now, his eyes are down in shame.

"Look at me", Chan says calmly, "You don't have to be ashamed of something you have never taken part in."

"But my father did.", Seungcheol whispers, "I can't forgive myself about how I treated you all and her when all you did was protect me."

"You are not doing fine neither she is.", Mingyu adds, "What's the point of seperation when you both love each other?"

"She cries everyday because of you. Regrets wanting to be selfish and marry you because you're suffering. She blames herself for everything to the point that she isolated herself from her family, friends and her academy. She's alone off to a faraway place where if an emergency occurs the fastest we can get to her would be after a 10 hour journey.", Chan doesn't usually breaks but his voice cracks, "It's so hard to see her being hard on herself. The breakup in the past must have been hard on you, but for her it was worst. I shouldn't be disclosing this but it took her a lot of therapy sessions to get out of depression. It was arduous for all of us because as you know she's the life of our family, the academy and her friends circle."

Seungcheol listens to your brother wide, teary eyed. He feels as if he's in a whirlwind.

"When I don't have any grudge against you, Y/N wants to be with you the why are you making all of our lives miserable?", Chan speaks with frustration, "You still have chamce to make things right. Don't choose to be a victim to the circumstances once again and let the love of your life go. You both have defied the odds and been together so why complicate things when there could be happily ever after waiting for you both."

"Do I deserve--"

Seungcheol haults in track, scared when he sees Mingyu seething and fisting his hands.

"Stop being a crybaby and own up. You caused a lot of damage to Y/N and you should make it up to her.", Mingyu says through his gritted teeth, "Stop trying to run away. That woman has been suffering for years just because of your family and you. She's a saint for being so understanding and patient, always putting everyone above herself. Though she'd never admit, we all know that she went away just not to be a bother for anyone, specially you. I'll beat you to a pulp if you suck up one more time. Fucking coward!"

Tables turned, now it's Chan and Wonwoo who are holding Mingyu back because Mingyu himself has the patience of Saint so when he gets worked up, things get out of control.

In the midst of all this, Mingyu throws a glare at Wonwoo as well and that's when the later unhands him and steps back.

"Do you lack common sense? What's the point of hanging her pictures and playing her compositions when after all this, she's waiting with her hands open but you won't go.", Mingyu keeps on scolding, "Why do we have to come and speak sense into your mind when you're an adult with much developed brain, developed enough to plot things to ruin someone's career?"

Six pairs of wide eyes falls on Mingyu. Seungcheol thinks hell has come in form of the buff guy infront of him. Chan thinks it's so cool of the same buff guy. Wonwoo thinks in near future he'll be facing the same fate as Seungcheol's facing today.

When Chan and Mingyu leave, Wonwoo stays behind. He quietly places a box on the table.

Before Seungcheol could enquire, he answers, "Y/N had requested me to give you this box on her birthday. Though I don't know what it contains but I do have a feeling that there won't be any more appropriate time to hand this over. I should have given it to you earlier."

After Wonwoo leaves, Seungcheol exhales sharply as his hands gently caress the box and carefully opens it.

There's a letter that sits atop. He opens the thread tied around it and starts reading.

Hey Cherry,

I couldn't help but call you that, sorry if it made you uncomfortable. If you're reading this, then it's probably my birthday today. I'll make my birthday wishes later but here's a return gift for you. This box is an ode to you, to commemorate your love because enough we didn't get our happy ending, I could live the rest of my life reminiscing the moments we spent, the love we shared together.

Now let me show you what our love meant through my eyes. There should be a sweater inside the box, take that out.

Seungcheol immediately takes out the red crochet sweater and traces over the garment and the wordings on it. He then goes back reading the letter.

Remember when we were dating, I had grown an interest on crocheting and took classes. I had woven this sweater for you. It says "Mon Amour", which means my love in French another outcome of the music lessons I was taking from the French teacher. Never got a chance to give you this and now that you've grown big muscles, it won't fit you. You can give it or throw it.

Now you'd see a pile of vinyls. Since you've always encouraged me to pursue my passion, you became the source of my inspiration. There are 26 vinyls and each of those compositions were inspired by you. Some were composed when we were dating, some after our breakup, throughout the span of seven years and some while we were still married. I thought of returning these to their owner in true sense. These came straight out of my vault. You can keep them or burn all of them.

Seungcheol takes out the vinyls and rearranges all of them in the order of the dates written on them. He notices each Vinyl cover had a colour of it's own and each one was addressed to his name in your handwriting.

You've always loved Tulips. Remember each time I bought you those, how you'd end up getting sad because they'd wilt? So I gathered every colour I could and preserved it for you. There's a flap in which I've kept the Tulips. Don't get sad anymore, they'll stay with you now.

The rest are random things I had brought on whim either because I thought you'd like them or it reminded me of you and they may not make any sense to you.

Seungcheol notices the spilled ink in many places, blurring the words, as the letter reaches it's end because of the tears those fell down while you wrote the letter.

Nostalgic isn't it? So now that we're closing in, I'd like to say a few things to you. I don't blame you for happened in the past, nor does my family. As things turned out, we didn't end up together. But I don't want you to become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. Let's not be that (only if you're comfortable enough to acknowledge me if we ever cross paths again).

As I said, even though it's my birthday I'll make a wish for you, make sure to fulfil it. Not request but it's a demand from your ex-wife. I wish you would move on from all the sufferings and pain. You should move on from me, from us. I wish for you to fall in love again with someone who'd keep you happy and bring back the liveliness in you. I admit it would hurt me, a lot but it'd mean nothing if you'd be well.

Never hesitate to come and find me, even if it's just for a brief moment. I'm always available for you. Also, just to remind you, don't you feel lonely, remember my friends are yours as well. Do disturb them at your will, most they'll do is throw tantrums but they're nice I promise. I love you, will always do. But you, move on okay? So that's all I guess. Sorry took too much of your time. Take care of yourself.

From,

Your Cherry (for one last time, promise)

Seungcheol is bawling his eyes out, screaming in pain as he reads your letter again and again, occasionally holding it close to his chest.

There's only one question that reels in his mind. How could you love him so selflessly?

You didn't expect much on your birthday but with all your friends and family travelling hours long, jamming up your place just to celebrate your day, it feels nice.

"Jihoon arranged the cake, but since Y/N wanted the party to be held in here he cancelled the venue.", Seungkwan states as a matter of fact, "Thank God, he's here otherwise my lifeline would have receded to half worrying about her."

All of your friends look at you happily chatting with your parents.

"Thanks Jihoon.", Eunsoo expresses her sincere gratitude, "I'm so relieved that she has you. She still hasn't forgiven us and knowing how private she tends to be, it's nice that she at least has you."

"We all feel the same.", Wonwoo assures and Eunsoo side eyes him as she shifts further away from him, changing seats.

Jihoon smiles genuinely, "Y/N is a great person to have around you so gradually you'd be willing to reciprocate the efforts."

"Good things, happen to good people but why is she suffering?", Mingyu sighs, chugging the can of bear, "She says she's mad at me, but she bought me my favourite limited edition watch when I was still recovering from the ligament injury."

"Yeah same, she checks on me throughout the day and night whenever I am going through a rough patch.", Eunsoo adds, "Even asked me to come and stay with her to take my mind off", she looks at Wonwoo, "things."

"Yeah, we may not always talk like we did before but she still cares the same.", Seungkwan says, "It's her nature, she can't do anything about it."

"Something good should happen to her soon.", Jihoon implies as he twirls the can in his hands.

The night goes on with you spending time with your dearest ones and catching up with everyone.

"Thanks for coming everyone.", you say making a toast, "I haven't felt this good lately. Y'all made my day really special."

At some point it's a mess, you're chasing Mingyu, who's screaming for his life because he smashed a big chunk of cake on your face. Eunsoo is eating off Jihoon's ears because she wants to hear him play Violin. Wonwoo doesn't like it a bit but there's nothing he can do apart from glaring at Jihoon. Seungkwan and Chan are debating over something useless, everyone is sure that next they're gonna fight each other to impose their point. Your parents look at all of you with a fond smile on their faces.

It's an hour till midnight when everyone decides to leave for the hotel they've been staying in. Though your friends and brother offer you help but you send them all away knowing they're still tired from such long journey.

You clean up the place and check the time before jogging down to throw the Dustin bags. All you could think of was if Seungcheol had read your letter. Doesn't matter if not today, as long as he reads it, any day is fine.

It's chilly outside as the full moon shines brightly. You stand outside not entering the gate and close your eyes to feel the breeze. It's calming, you think.

When you open your eyes after staying out for good amount of time, you think you had drunk a little too much.

"I shouldn't have drunk so much, now I'm seeing you.", you shake your head, slap your cheeks and look ahead again, "Why are you still here? Just vanish.', then you turn back to go inside the house.

"Y/N..."

You halt and say, "Now I'm hearing things also, great."

Suddenly you're being back hugged, "You're not hallucinating.", that's when you freeze, realisation gnawing on you.

Seungcheol has really come, he's physically present.

"W-What are you doing here?", you asked in your choked voice.

"I think we should have this conversation inside, only if you'll allow me to.", Seungcheol says and loosens his grip.

"Y-Yeah sure.", you don't look back, at him and walk straight into the house with him following you.

As Seungcheol takes a seat, you kick away the balloons, "Sorry, it's a mess right now.", and you flee to the kitchen to bring some slices of cake, "Have them, it's your favourite flavour."

"Happy Birthday, Y/N", he wishes you, taking the plate and you smile at him fondly.

"Have you eaten dinner?", you ask him and he shakes his head, "Came here straight from the airport."

While he eats the cake, you serve him all the dishes saying, "You should have told me that you'd come. I would have waited and we could have had the dinner together."

Seungcheol looks at you, wordless. So do you, observe him, the black hair that falls on his forehead, thick eyebrows, his brown orbs, dimpled cheeks, the small nose and stubbled chin, all of it. There's a soothing silence and you don't wanna break it.

"Y/N, there's a reason to why I came today."

You are calm, willing to listen to anything he has to offer because nothing worse can happen than what has already happened.

"I am not well without you.", he gives a small smile not meeting your gaze, "People are saying I look like a ghost nowadays, you can see it as well.", there's a pause before he looks at you and continues, "Your friends and brother have been trying hard to speak some senses into my mind. And I received the box you left for me, last week."

"But you were supposed to receive it today", you say calmly, "If my friends and family are pestering you, I'm sorry. I'd tell them to stop."

Seungcheol chuckles, shaking his head. He grabs both of your hands, "The problem isn't about me being unwell without you. The problem lies with you being more heartbroken and pained without me. You have suffered enough, you shouldn't be suffering anymore."

His hands trail gently upto your face, "And I'm here today to solve that."

You habitually lean into his touch, "Don't say something that would break my heart again, on my birthday."

"I know even without trying or repenting if I ask you to take me back, you'd do it in a heartbeat.", tears prick at his eyes as he speaks, "And now that there're no more secrets, though it's selfish of me but I want us to be together again, to live and to love forever. I want to love you right, treat you like you deserve to be treated."

You break down in tears, hiding your face in your palms, sobbing as you say, "This feels unreal. What if I'm dreaming and you'd be gone when I wake up?"

Seungcheol sniffles as he hugs you tightly, "I'm here, love. I won't go anywhere, I promise."

You snuggle closer to him, he embraces you tighter.

There are few taps on your back and you pull back only to Seungcheol making you stand up. You eyes questions him as he pecks your forehead quickly and kneels on his left knee.

Your eyes go wide as saucers as you watch him unfasten his chain and take out the ring, which you recognise is yours. He holds the ring saying, "I want to spend all of my tomorrows with you because you taught me the real meaning of love. Would you please with cherries on top, marry me?"

Not trusting your voice and with a frantic nod of head, you extend your hand towards him, onto which Seungcheol slides in the ring. You put the other ring on his finger and pull him into a fervent kiss.

Before he could take you to the bed and have you, you're pushing him away, "You haven't eaten, dinner first."

Seungcheol groans, his lips finding it's way back on your neck as he whispers, "I wanna eat you out. You're my meal, you're my dessert to devour."

You give up knowing, he's not going to listen because he's stripping you down to nothing, kissing and sucking everywhere.

"I love you, love you so much.", he keeps on murmuring, "You're mine, only mine."

Carrying you inside, he slams the bedroom door shut. All you could remember is his name and the way he worked on your whole body diligently through the night, till the morning.

"I wanna meet Lee Jihoon.", Seungcheol says during lunch, because that's when you both finally left the bed after long long sessions of love making.

But he makes you sit on his lap, "Because along with the plane ticket that I found on my office table, he had sent a card with the instructions to give it to you."

He takes out the card from his coat which was hung on the chair and gives it to you.

'Here's your birthday gift, Y/N. Told ya, giving you Seungcheol would be much easier.'

You are grinning ear to ear, "Definitely, he seems snappy but is actually quite a nice guy."

Seungcheol gulps when he remembers the other note which contained nothing but the pure threat of kidnapping, smuggling and dumping him to your house if he doesn't come here voluntarily, "Y-Yeah sure, he must be a nice guy..."

The nation is in uproar because it was such a sight to see Choi Seungcheol carrying his ex-wife in bridal style, smooching her throughout, in front of the media, till they're seen out of the airport.

Another shock comes from the musical prodigy, Lee Jihoon who returns to his roots posing as a bodyguard to the couple.

The media doesn't get to rest when a month later, both the Choi's and Lee's publish articles about your wedding to Seungcheol along with some glamourous shots from the private wedding that took place with limited guests consisting mostly closed friends and family.

Some are confused, some are shocked but more or less everyone is curious. No matter how hard the paparazzi are trying they're unable to pull tabs on what actually happened. You both are the trending topic and though all tabloids are based on pure speculations, it also shows the upper hand The Choi's have on protecting their matters.

"I have the sent the data as an anonymous to the police.", Wonwoo informs, "I'm sure it'll be concrete enough to put Jiah behind the bars."

"Great.", Seungcheol smiles, "Keep on digging, make sure once she's in, she never gets out of the prison."

Wonwoo gives a nod and leaves.

"Are you sure he like Eunsoo back?", Seungcheol turns to ask you.

"You should notice how stone cold poker faced Wonwoo starts to show emotions whenever he sees Eunsoo with Jihoon. I have caught him stealing glances at our Soo as well.", you sigh, "I know it must be hard for him, but I wish he could just be honest with his feelings."

"I'll talk to him", Seungcheol assures and as if a switch flips he pouts saying, "Why'd you have to go? We just got married."

"I'll have to look over the academy until it's fully functional.", you tell him, "Jihoon can take over after that but till then I'll have keep going back and forth. But hey, I'll be here for a month before I go, let's utilize it to the fullest."

"Of course, baby. Don't worry I'll manage my schedule so that I can be there with you for most of the time.", he pecks your lips, "I'm so proud of you. I love you."

"Love you too, Cherry.", you smile looking at him.

"Let's plan for our honeymoon--"

"Cheol, I was thinking that...", your lips purse into a line, "instead of touring, can we spend some time alone without work, just the two of us, somewhere cozy. Only if you're okay with it, I know you're busy and to take time completely off--"

You're cut off by his lips on yours. He kisses you for a good amount of time and says, "If you want it then I'll manage. Anything for you baby."

You smile pushing him away, "You're down bad.", ypj tease, "I'll have to drop by the academy, Seungkwan is waiting."

"I'll take you.", Seungcheol gets up grabbing the car keys, "I'm sure everyone is there specially Jihoon, I'm a fan."

You roll your eyes, "Yeah everyone is saying so but he's a plain pain in ass to me. Let's take Wonwoo with us.", grabbing your clutch, "I'm planning to visit Wonseok, let's go together this weekend. Also, I've informed Ms. Oh that we'd be eating out tonight."

As Seungcheol drives, your mind reels back to everything that happened over the month. Your husband proposing to you, you coming back and accepting things with his parents as they offer their earnest apologies. Though Seungcheol is still not on talking terms with them and you're yet to entirely let go of what they've done, you think time will mend the relationships.

Getting married again but this time just out of pure love. Discussions about having family, bearing his children in future comes often and you don't miss the gleam in your husband's eyes when you both talk over it casually nowadays, him always assuring that he's ready whenever you're ready. Your friends now becoming more of Seungcheol's group as they pick each other's habit and throw unfiltered banter, Jihoon included.

If years of suffering have led you to witness these days then you're content because it's all worth it.

Even though Seungcheol is engaged in a conversation with the group, he sweeps a quick glance at you, smiling fondly and mouthing a 'I Love you' before diving back just to sulk at something Mingyu claimed.

You say those words right back to him in your heart, a thousand times more as you make a wish you have him as yours in all lifetimes.

To be fully seen by somebody and be loved anyhow is a human offering that can border on miraculous. Having withered for each other and falling back in love, lucky you both to be spending the rest of your lives together.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

[insertdisc5]

✨ The In Stars and Time Spoiler Q&A ✨

it's time. MASSIVE IN STARS AND TIME SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. IT'S GONNA BE SO LONG. LET'S GO

I hope you are aware of The Secret Final Boss because I'm also gonna spoil the crab out of that. If you haven't,

1. Did you know the events for interacting with your souvenirs are randomized for some of them, and also change depending on how far you are in the game.

2. Did you know there's a way to show souvenirs to a certain character.

3. Did you know you can go back to Dormont during the Epilogue.

Figure that out, and come back here! Or watch a let's play online. You can also do that.

I will also try to adopt a ~mysterious cool voice with no exclamation points~ for Effect. Come with me on this journey.

Now. Questions time!

✨ Will you ever make a sequel to ISAT, or make a game in the same universe?

Nah. This was always intended to be The Story. This is your turn to imagine things now.

✨ But so what happened to the Country? What was its name? What about the wishes? What about the colors? What did Siffrin say as an openphrase to open the door to the King's room? What about--

I will not answer those. It's your turn.

✨ BUT THE COUNTRY AND THE COLORS AND THE WISHES

Ok fine. Here are some facts that I alluded to in-game, that I am confirming now.

-The Country disappearing and the events that made colors go away are not related.

-The colors disappeared a loooong time ago, which is why knowing they even existed is a relatively new find.

-A wish made everyone forget the Country.

I will ALSO say that ISAT's map operates on Final Fantasy/General Fantasy rules (i.e. in-universe locations are based off of real ones when it comes to culture, but are not one to one parallels, especially for geography), so no, the Country isn't based on the UK oh my god please do not say that to me again or im deleting ISAT out of your computers and putting legos at the foot of your bed. It's based on another place. You can figure it out, I believe in you.

✨ But why won't you give more info on what happened :(

Can you imagine if I did answer. Wouldn't that be a bummer, whatever my answer was. Sometimes things need to stay a mystery. And also, I don't want to answer <3

✨ Does the world Loop came from still exist after they left? Or is this a get mystery'd situation?

There is only One Timeline and it's the timeline that goes from the prologue to ISAT. Every timeline that gets rewound does not exist anymore, and that includes the prologue's timeline.

✨ What's the deal with Siffrin's dream at the start?

It's Siffrin's dream, but that doesn't mean our Siffrin is the main star.

✨ Is [specific missable game moment] canon?

Every moment that you personally experience in the game is canon.

✨ Is there a reason Siffrin remembers their name but the King doesn't?

What makes you think Siffrin does?

✨ At the very very end of the game, if you look out the window behind the Head Housemaiden, Sif mentions seeing an island in the distance. Is that his country?

It is. It's always been there, for the whole game. You can see it in the distance, too.

✨ Who was the King, before?

He was just a guy!

✨ With the King left remembering in the end, does that in any way change the redaction effect for other people in the world going forward?

That's a fun idea. Maybe!

✨ One thing that never really clicked for me is: Is the sweet smell Time Craft or Wish Craft? Or is the sweet smell TIme Craft and specifically the burnt sugar smell is Wish Craft? Other way around? Does this question even matter since without Wish Craft you can't attain Time Craft in the first place? (To me, yes.)

Wish Craft smells sweet. Time Craft doesn't have a smell per se, but it does do something.

✨ Does Mirabelle retain her immunity to being frozen in time after the events of the game or does it go away after the Head Housemaiden is saved? Or does it persist for a while and eventually fade away?

I imagine the immunity slowly faded away. But no one's left to do Time Craft, so it's a moot point anyway.

✨ How was Odile able to stop Siffrin from looping back during the fight against Siffrin?

In the Discord channel I stated that it's because "she's just that cool", but really, she does have access to some skills that heighten the efficacity of Rock/Paper/Scissors attacks, so it's not too much of a stretch to imagine she could lower the efficacity of Time Craft as well. In this last loop, while listening to Loop and observing, she could figure out Siffrin was looping way earlier than she could in even the Sus Quest, so she made plans. She is Very Smart <3

✨ Will you ever share everyone's full names?

That's artbook content <3

✨ In the ending, what happened to Siffrin's hat?

Flew away. It's gone now.

✨ Looking back at the original comics, and seeing how comic!sif has both eyes at the start of their loops, but in ending sequences is shown with his eye patch...did you ever consider making that concept of sif losing their eye a part of the main loop in either of your games? and if so, was there any reason why you decided against it?

Early on, I did think about making that whole event an event that happens during the loops, but quickly let that go since 1. it would be a pain to write and code (two different sets of Siffrin portraits!) and 2. if it happened, the player might want to look for a way to NOT make that happen and so 3. it would be a pain to write and code

✨ How was Siffrin's homelife before?

Pretty good!

✨ How old were Nille and Bonnie when they ran away? How old was Sif when their home got zapped?

Both were teens.

✨ How old IS everyone?

Siffrin is mid-late 20s. Mirabelle and Isabeau are early-mid 20s, with Isabeau being slightly older. Bonnie is a preteen. Odile is Too Old For This. Petronille, Bonnie's sister, is late teens-early 20s. You can ignore whatever I said in the prologue's artbook, whoever wrote this was Wrong!!!!!!!!!!

✨ Regarding the book that talks about someone who crafted a copy of themself using wish craft: is that meant to imply someone we know is the author (and/or the copy), or is it not directly related to any of em? or is it a "who knows ;)" situation where we can just speculate and theorize either way?

Please check the book again during Act 5! This applies to most items/map events by the way, like the pendant. You can check those during Act 5 and 6 for some fun new dialogue!

✨ Why are Siffrin's clothes so warm looking?

The Country got cold at night.

✨ What's up with Siffrin's pins?

They're made out of a special material. And also, they make Siffrin look cool <3

✨ I want to know the story behind Loop’s different eye shades!

They're blind in one eye. Also, fun foreshadowing <3

✨ What determines whether someone is paper/rock/scissors craft? Is it assigned naturally at birth or something else (and how do you find out)? Does it make you more inclined to use that specific craft or is anyone generally free to use whatever craft they want?

Astrology rules, It Just Is A Thing. Being Rock Type means it is way easier for you to do Rock Craft, but that doesn't mean you can't learn other types of craft, although it's way harder. Doing Craft of your type is instinct, doing Craft of another type would take some time and resarch.

✨What crimes has Odile committed before. I need to know.

Odile just smiles.

✨ Why did the King specifically target the House of Dormont?

I had a reason in mind, but adding it to the game would've added a layer of Explanation that really didn't need to be there. It's just a nice House.

✨ Who was Odile's hatecrush...

Dunno. It's your turn.

✨ What is loop's body situation. like is the surface of their "skin" solid? they did poke siffrin that one time, and we know they aren't cold, but...

I have some idea. But it's your turn!

✨ Would Sif still have looped if they hadn't made the wish he made in the beginning? As in, would Vaugarde's combined wish have made him loop until managing to beat the King?

No. But without time powers, you can imagine what would've happened next.

✨ During the Loop Hangout, how did the rest of the team make it all the way to The King? What about during Act 5?

During the Loop Hangout: with difficulty. During Act 5: Loop was there to guide them.

✨ Is Loop: 1. Actually comfortable with both he and they, but only gave the one pronoun to emphasize the distance? 2. Only using they/them because a large life event led to a shift in identity/ how they'd like to be perceived? or 3. time lops stole he from they they :(

Mostly that first one. But all three of those reasons have a bit of truth to them.

✨ Who cooked crab in the House of Change???

This is a very funny question! I've never thought about it. It's your turn.

✨ What are the Orbs that open the gate? Did the King create the Gate or was it there before?

(did not think about the orbs or the gate beyond "plot that proves there was a journey before") Stop Asking Questions,,,, It's your turn,,,,,,

✨ Bonnie's dialogue is *extremely* accurate to how overexcited kids talk, which is really rare to see. Was that something that took a lot of effort to achieve, or did it come naturally to you?

Thank you <3 I'm just that good. Really, Bonnie is an adult with no filter, and less general knowledge. I'm very glad I managed to write Bonnie well, especially since. I haven't talked to a kid. Since I was one myself

✨ The Spoilery Concept Art. Blease

oh yeah. here have it all. this is what I gave Mimi to do the animated trailer!

✨ So. What's everyone's favorite shade.

FINALLY the question. Plus I can say shade names now. White = darkless, Black = lightless. Light and Dark is like light grey/ dark grey. Oh my god I'm checking my notes and I wrote a small event I never used about hair dye colors like "midnight dark", "tomato grey", "snow light" past me that's so fucking funny

Anyway, Siffrin loves darkless, Mirabelle is more of a light shade lover, Isabeau loves that lightless (BECAUSE ITS FASHIONABLE OK), Odile likes darker shades, and Bonnie also loves that lightless (BECAUSE ITS AS DARK AS MY SOUL OK)

✨ Are there any bugs you found during developments that you've made into features?

Two! The first one was the ability to ask Loop to just silently hang out during Act 4. I messed up the code and the game softlocked there, with Siffrin and Loop sitting there silently. I thought it was very sweet. They deserve a little quiet time.

The second was in Act 5 - the House map had a lot of issues with the Act 5 map bringing you back to the normal House map. So one of the testers got brought to the normal House map and didn't notice, and interacted with the Mirror on Floor 3, and it gave them the normal interaction with everyone seeing the mirror and taking a picture, and when they went to look at the picture in their inventory, it gave them the actual Act 5 picture. A little bit after they realized the game bugged out, and told me about it, and begged me to keep that in because they were very unsettled by it. So here it is! Beforehand, it was just Siffrin silently taking a picture, so I'm glad I changed it.

✨ Did you ever have emotional difficulty writing the more sensitive parts of the script, like Siffrin’s intrusive/negative thoughts, for one reason or another? Moreover, did you worry the script may be darker than your initial vision for it anticipated?

Not really. The Mirabelle and Odile hangout scenes were the hardest scenes by far because I really wanted to get them right, but everything else was about the same amount of difficulty. And actually, I wanted to go a little bit darker for the script, but I was worried it was going to be too dark... When it comes to the dagger event, I had a whole tangent about Siffrin thinking about the best way to strike, so to speak, but I deleted it because it was getting A Little Too Detailed. T rating come back to me

✨ For the questions you WON'T answer, did you have your own answers while making the game? Or were they left blank?

Some of them I do, some of them I don't!

✨ I loved this game and I want to replay it but I don't want Siffrin to go through everything again!

Here's a little fun fact I decided: if you hit the credits, you helped a Siffrin escape. If you start a new game, you are creating a new Siffrin that you can emotionally tortu-IIIIIIII MEAN, a new Siffrin that you can help. Do not worry about your Siffrins they are fine

✨ A lot of those answers ended up being "It's your turn", huh.

Yea <3 The answers to some of those questions ARE there if you look. Some just aren't. But you can imagine whatever you want. It's your turn! I finished the game! I'm done working! It's your turn!!!

✨ I loved ISAT and it made me feel so many feelings!

Thank you so much. I'm sorry if you sent a message or ask and I didn't answer it. I read every single one and cherish it! Thank you for playing and thank you for writing me a message!!!!! When I get a little down I look at all of those and I feel better. Thank you. I'm sorry I can't answer them all.

✨ What will you work on next?

I have a project I'm currently in the preproduction stages of. I don't want to talk about it until I feel like I have some stuff to show. Plus I still have to make the ISAT artbook and some other stuff, so it won't be for a while. Nonetheless, I hope you will enjoy it!!!

[stxrvel]

the one where i said fuck you and you cried (3)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! a lot of curse words, a lot of self-deprecation and low self esteem. no proofread. this is nawt silly writing, we're diving right into the aNgSt. jumpscare? iykyk a/n. hi guys! this was a rollercoaster for me to write, but i hope it doesn't come as harsh as i think it is. pls let me know what you think in the comments!! see you next week!!

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You had gone through a scenario like that in your head several times. A variety of moments, conversations and looks that always ended in the same unpleasant, inevitable and demoralizing way: you were forgotten by the people you loved most in the world. Only when you reached 18 would you realize how heartbreaking the dull thud of the silence of indifference was, how sharp and icy the loneliness was, how it penetrated and paralyzed your bones; but at that time, at 16, you could still convince yourself that all those things were only in your head and would always be there.

“Now that you're the last to go, you guys are much more likely to forget about me.”

“Of course not! In fact, as soon as I start earning money I'll save up to take you with us.”

Jungkook shook his head, his narrowed eyes judging you as if having insecurities was a sin. You believed his words at that moment, because being the last one still with you, 'cause you were going to graduate from school in the same year, it was the only thing you could do. Hold on to the idea that you really weren't going to be forgotten, because the mere conception of a future without your best friends was inconceivable.

“Jimin-hyung said he was going to try to call more often,” your friend went on, his eyes fixed on the bass on his lap and his important task of leaving it neat before returning it to its holy post in the school's music room. “I haven't talked to them in about three days.”

Jimin and Taehyung had left just a couple of months ago, but thanks to the opportunities opened to them with their incredible willingness, discipline and some string twitching on Namjoon's part, they had managed to get into a great academy to train and fulfill their dreams.

That also brought with it, as irreversible side effects, that your communication with them was drastically reduced. You had to constantly remind yourself and Jungkook that it was out of their control. With their future at stake, there was something for which they had to exert extreme effort and for which to sacrifice some other things.

“It's normal that they don't have as much time as they used to, Kookie.” You lowered your head, noticing the way his hands delicately handled the instrument on his legs. Since Jimin and Taehyung had left there was no time of day when you could tear yourself away from Jungkook, which is why you accompanied him to his extracurricular music lessons when you really should have been studying for the college entrance exam. “Life after school gets really hectic.”

“I've heard that college life is quieter.” Jungkook twisted his lips, wiping between the strings and his fingerprints left on the bass every time he moved it back and forth to clean it. It was an almost irresistible cycle.

“The only one at college right now is Seokjin and even about him we haven't heard much.” You leaned back against the piano, noticing Jungkook's movements pause for a moment as he surely reminisced about the few times he had been able to talk to Jin that month.

It had been two years since Seokjin had graduated and traveled all the way to the capital to study medicine. Needless to say, it was more than clear that communication with Jin would be almost nil from then on, but Jungkook always used to pout about it.

“It's just that Jin-hyung also chose a rather demanding career.” Jungkook twisted his lips, as if suppressing Jin in his head, waving the microfiber towel over the edges of the bass.

“And the others are trying too hard to carve their way through. It can be as complicated as going out to look for a job right after graduating.”

Jungkook nodded, admiring his cleaning job with a frown. He looked so focused that it caught you by surprise when he spoke again.

“You already know if you're going to college, noona? We're graduating this year.”

You blinked once, twice, three times. His nonchalant self went back to waving the towel over nonexistent smudges as you breathed in and decided not to go that route. “Will you?”

Jungkook raised his head, pausing his movements for a moment to try to analyze your gaze. With a sigh, he let out your poorly disguised way of shifting the focus of the conversation to get up and hang the instrument, glowing, on the wall of the music room.

“I don't know yet… Namjoon-hyung says he can help me.”

“Isn't it your dream, why do you doubt it?”

“I'm not sure, noona. What if I don't measure up? What if I fail?”

When your friend turned away, the mirror to his soul showed his vulnerability dancing on the edge of his eyelids. His distrust constricted your heart, a hand closing around your throat at the inner conflicts you knew Jungkook used to have and in the face of which you often couldn't do anything about because he didn't usually share such things.

“Then you try again.”

“Noona…” Jungkook wanted to grumble, it was obvious from the way his eyes moved to the ceiling, his head cocking as if he was about to give you a big life lesson on why you can't survive on motivational phrases.

But Jungkook was a softie about such things, even if he tried to hide it.

“Jungkook, you are literally a golden promise. No process is ever easy, especially in the industry you want to get into, but don't think for a second that you're going to outgrow it. You're one of the most capable people I've ever met.”

Your friend stopped his steps, when after hanging up the bass he was returning to your post in front of you, raising his head as if caught committing a prank. But the vulnerability in his eyes remained, and by the way they shone in the dim light of the room, still blinking to try to contain the emotion, you knew your words had tugged at just that thorn in his heart you were trying to pull out.

“Thank you, noona.”

“I'm just telling the truth.” You lifted a shoulder, shaking your head nonchalantly like it was no big deal, and Jungkook just let out an amused chuckle.

“You do know we'd never forget about you, right? How could we?”

-

“How could we?”

Yuna shook her head, frowning at her phone, oblivious to the way you cringed at her choice of words.

“She's bringing celebrities into the store and she want us to leave? Don't we work so well that we always take the top employee of the month spot even though it should only be held by one person? Don't we deserve that gift?”

You watched her, marveling at how after just a few seconds so many emotions could build up into an overwhelming knot in your chest. The old notes of an old piano played in the back of your head, bringing to the surface memories of when life was easier; when you thought you had it all and nothing would ever be better than that; when you thought you were enough.

“So what do you plan to do about it?” you blinked, focusing on the notation of bills in your notebook with an invisible hand squeezing your heart.

There was no use thinking about such things after so long.

Yuna pursed her lips, her expression serious and forceful. “I think we should have a sit-in.”

“We should? That sounds like more than one person.”

“Do you disagree with me?”

“I'm happy with going home early, especially on a Friday, you know?”

“y/n,” Yuna came up to your face over the cash register display case, her forearms resting on the glass and her eyes so bright with determination you were sure her head could light the whole store on fire the way she was scheming and scheming, running around like her life depended on it, “we could be close to meeting the seven gods of Olympus, and you think the best thing to do is go home?”

“Just in case you forgot, I have a business to run now.” You reminded her, moving to poke her with your middle finger all over her forehead and push her away from the cash register now that a new customer had come in.

“What business should a business matter when you could meet the reason for existence itself?”

Yuna dropped onto the display case, her body sliding like jelly until only her head was left on the glass. You and the new customer watched her, her arms limp at her sides and her gaze lost. A lone tear running down the bridge of her nose.

“God, you're so dramatic.”

“Does that mean yes?” Her head snapped up like a spring, a big smile scaring the soul out of the customer who ducked behind your friend to run for their order.

“No and stop acting like that, you're going to scare away customers.”

Yuna whined, her exaggerated tantrum leading you to wiggle your feet all the way to the cellar.

“I'm offering you the holy grail, and this is how you pay me?”

The sound of her feet shuffling behind you kept your head sane. Even though his insinuations were baseless, your heart was pounding so hard you felt your ribs throbbing through your muscles and skin.

Your boss had written to Yuna that you two could leave the store early today because she had a private meeting to attend. She asked them to leave everything to Patrick, including clearing the store of customers and not to worry about paying for the shift, because there would be no discount at the end of the month. Yuna was faithfully and blindly convinced that your boss really wanted you to stay, because she spent almost ten minutes with her eyes glued to the screen almost without blinking, watching the 'typing…' appear and disappear under your boss's contact name. 'I'm sure she's debating how much confidence she has in us…', she said as her red eyes missed no detail of that important chat and that primordial moment, ending in an offended 'none!' when her last message came through.

In the same way, Yuna convinced herself that the meeting that would take place in the same place where your feet were planted was going to be attended by the seven entertainment kings of the country. The unmentionables, for all practical purposes. Where had she come to that conclusion? There was no foundation. Had your boss given any hints? None. Yuna had her head in the clouds believing she could meet her idols if she insisted a little longer.

“Would you really prefer to stand your friend up to meet seven men you don't even know for sure will show up here?”

“Well…if you put it that way it sounds like I'm doing something wrong.”

“Mmm, you just figured that out?”

Yuna dropped her shoulders as you took off your apron. Her tactics weren't going to work and it was time to give up. She half-heartedly opened her locker and stood looking at you with puppy dog eyes. You felt as guilty as if you had stepped on her tail by accident.

“Look, if I'm being honest, I doubt gigantically that Sol will tell you that you can stay if you ask her.”

“Not even for everything we've been through together?”

“She's still our boss, Yuna.”

Your friend mimicked your actions with a slower speed, her emotion draining away little by little. When her head cocked to the side, halfway through taking off her apron, you only sighed.

“The worst that can happen is I get fired, right?”

You weren't surprised that she was nevertheless willing to cross that line.

“That doesn't sound like much to you?”

“I can always write her a 'ha, ha, just joking' afterwards and get out of harm's way.”

You didn't contain the irresistible urge to roll your eyes and Yuna took that as her own signal or green light. Next thing you knew she was pulling out her phone and typing animatedly on the screen.

“I really don't think you should do that.”

“I have to try! Can I call myself a good fan if I don't do even the impossible?”

“You don't even know if they'll come.”

“I have a hunch.”

With her hand over her heart, Yuna sent the message and you feared for her life. While Sol was not at all close to the idea and conceptualization of a crazy and ruthlessly demanding boss, she did draw the line at several specific situations that they had both learned to respect. One of those was, of course, private meetings at her place. You and Yuna had set up the place countless times for Sol to sit quietly and chat with her most famous acquaintances, because her office was too formal to deal with them there, but her own home was extremely informal for the same purpose. The cafeteria served as a middle ground, the perfect place to be comfortable when talking business.

“Patrick is coming.” Yuna spoke again and by the way her eyes didn't leave the screen you could tell Sol hadn't responded yet.

“I wish you the best of luck, Yuna.”

“Thank you! Coming from you it's a blessing, indeed.”

“And why's that?”

You finally stood up, closing your locker with your strap bag over your right shoulder. You were ready to leave while your friend was still biting her index fingernail waiting for an almost impossible and inconceivable message from her boss.

“What else can I expect from the writer who blew up overnight and is soon going to be one of the New York Times bestsellers and famous worldwide?”

“Ah,” you turned your head, unable to contain inwardly the way a warmth settled in your chest; you still had a hard time accepting how things had turned out, but as long as you couldn't control the influx of orders that had to take a back seat, “smooth.”

Yuna smiled and when her eyes met yours you swore she was about to tell you one more time how proud she was of you, but her phone vibrated in her hands and the last thing you saw her eyes widen exaggeratedly before her scream shook the foundations of the store and almost the entire city.

“SHE SAID YES!!!!”

-

Arriving home unleashed immeasurable chaos.

As soon as you opened the front door, a river of books fell like dominoes, with your father's groans and your mother's screams in the background, the sound of your work echoing in your head like lightning as stomping echoed through the house.

“Seojun, I told you to be careful walking…!”The angry expression on your mother's face disappeared the moment she recognized your face, her features softening as she knew it was her daughter. “Honey. What are you doing here so early?”

“Is that y/n?” your dad's exclamation rang out from the kitchen.

“Yes!” your mom yelled back.

The welcome was nice, but things only got more and more tedious from then on. On the one hand, you had your father telling you about accounts, numbers and multiplications of how much you had to take out of your pocket to pay for the prints, how much you would make if you sold all the books you had printed and how much you would get back, and on the other hand you had your mother telling you about the countless publishers who had written to your dm's seeking to sponsor the sale of your books, taking advantage of the boom that had been generated by the phenomenon that was Kim Taehyung.

Seojun, who had decided to move back home for the weekend to help with whatever was needed, was telling you that they had had to hire five different deliverymen -three of them trucks- to be able to deliver as many orders a day as possible, while vehemently hitting your father's forearm to remind him to include that in the accounts.

Your father was in charge of everything related to money, your mother of the direct communication with customers and Seojun of the orders; everything was done by them, with Yuna's help when she was not working, with the excuse that after so many years you just had to sit down and enjoy the fruit of your sowing without any worries.

But at that moment, when they had just let go and thrown all their worries at your feet, they stared at you expectantly.

"We need a loan."

Your mother jumped in her chair. "That's what I said!"

"That's not necessary." Your father shook his head, as he surely would have done when your mother suggested the idea judging by the expression that had planted itself on her face. "Take a loan from my wallet, but don't do business with those bankers. They'll gouge your eyes out with interest."

"Or take a publisher's offer. They'll take care of all this." Seojun pointed out, his long black hair brushing his eyebrows even though he shook it nonchalantly so he could get a good look at the three of them.

"Publishers can be freeloaders too." Your mother counter-argued, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, yeah? How many publishers have you signed on with to assert that?"

"Wow, careful with that tone, Mr. Lawyer." Your father pointed at your brother, while your mother only raised an eyebrow at him in response. Seojun sank into the chair, barely dragging an apology through his teeth.

"It's not a bad idea either, Dad."

His brown eyes returned to meet your gaze and you noticed the hesitation in them.

"Well, ultimately, it's your decision, honey."

Your mother squeezed your shoulder.

"I say we should listen to the lawyer."

"Hey!" Seojun frowned, straightening up on the chair. "Don't put such a big responsibility on me!"

Your father snorted. "But then weren't you comfortable a while ago giving orders and saying that I don't know what thing you had already seen it in class and that's why you knew what we had to do?"

"Dad…" Seojun elongated.

"Are you ready for such a position or not, Seojun? Tell me to start looking for another lawyer."

Your mother barely contained her laughter, only because of the offended sideways glance her own son sent her way. Laughter blossomed in your chest, too, like a big breath of fresh air in a field of flowers. You didn't know you needed that moment so badly until the tension disappeared from your shoulders as you laughed with your parents and your brother grumbled with his arms crossed.

-

A new batch of orders just went out - thank you so much for your purchases!

You looked at the story your mom had uploaded to Instagram in the solitude of your bedroom. The rest of the day was spent strategizing and planning marketing ideas that would likely lead you to ruin. In a defeated silence, you admitted that Yuna was really needed.

You had texted your friend a while ago, as the sunset was beginning to paint the sky with colors, but she still hadn't even checked her phone. Her last connection was a few minutes after you left at noon. You decided not to insist, even though you were a little curious about who had finally shown up at the store.

The best thing about that busy rest of the afternoon was that you'd been able to keep yourself busy enough to completely ignore the way you'd been whipped up by a few memories that morning in Yuna's company. A simple question had caused all that. And of course, with a heart as weak as a chick's and willpower almost non-existent, you let yourself be pulled right in that moment of loneliness into the well of memories.

“Jungkookie?”

Your voice pierced the silence and a shiver ran through your body as the darkness greeted you back. A few minutes passed after you plunged into the completely darkened room, walking tentatively and slowly inside, you heard a movement just outside the door you had just entered.

“Noona…”

You couldn't see him, but you didn't need to. The sobs that filled the room were enough to be able to guide you through that darkness, as indistinguishable as coal, and wrap your arms around his hunched figure on the floor beside the door.

The house was alone and as dark as that room the last night Jungkook would be there. Passing through the empty corridors of his house was a torment, but you could only imagine how your friend would feel in his place, unable to stop time as it slipped through his fingers.

Several times he had already told you that he didn't want to leave. You didn't think he meant it.

“They're waiting for you downstairs.”

“I know. I don't want to go, noona.” Jungkook moved his arms to wrap around your waist in a desperate grip, his erratic breathing against your neck breaking your heart. “I want to stay. It doesn't matter if I never become an idol. That's not important.”

“Jungkook…”

“I don't want to leave you…”

His halting voice was barely understandable, trying to be muffled by the jacket you were wearing that night when you went to see him off and didn't find him in the car with his parents. The heater seemed not to be a worthy opponent for that cold night.

“Jungkook, you're not going to leave me. We'll keep in touch. Why do you worry so much?”

“I don't want to be like them,” his pained voice pierced your chest; the movement of his body from the way the sobs were attacking him was almost uncontainable. “I don't want this distance.”

“Change is always hard, Jungkookie, but I promise you we'll be in touch always. I'll do my best to make it so.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I'll even come visit you as soon as I can.”

“No. I said I was going to pay for your trip.”

“See? You're not going to leave me.”

“Still I'm scared, noona. What if I'm not enough for them? What if I can't raise enough for you to come live with us?”

“You are enough, Jungkook. From the tips of your fingers to the tips of your hair, there's nothing about you that won't allow you to achieve your dreams, understand? You are destined to be a star. I know it's hard to leave behind everything you know in life, but believe me it will all be worth it. You will come out on top and you will succeed.”

“Noona…” Jungkook cried again, burying his face in your neck once more, clinging to you like the anchor that carried him to the surface of the ocean; the ocean shaped by his own tears. “I… don't… want… to… go…”

The hiccups that attacked him from his intense crying made it difficult for him to speak and you hadn't felt such pain even when the other boys left. There were tears shared, promises whispered and hugs that lasted longer than they should have, but no one had clung to your body as if they feared you were going to disappear at any moment and wanted to seize every second before the impending end.

“It's okay, Jungkookie,” you ran your hands up and down his back trying to calm his crying, trying to control your own as treacherous tears rolled down your cheeks with the darkness as your witness. “We'll meet again. You can wait for me. Then we can melt into another embrace and say how much we miss each other.”

Your phone vibrated on the bed, the notification startling you with its aggressiveness. Another vibration followed that one and then another. Turning on the screen, you found that half an hour had passed since you'd last seen the clock, and in passing you came across Yuna's name on the caller ID. You sighed, remembering the effusiveness with which she said goodbye in the afternoon and mentally preparing yourself for what was to come.

"Hey," you greeted, mildly surprised that her exclamations hadn't reached your ear first to interrupt your greeting.

"y/n, how were sales today?" her calm voice filled your hearing and a slight wrinkle implanted itself between your brows.

"Mmm, it was all good. We have several domiciliary and the prints are coming out with the deadlines arranged. With Seojun we considered that maybe taking on a publisher wouldn't be so bad, but I'm not sure yet."

You narrowed your eyes at the ceiling, shallowly biting your nails, waiting for the moment when Yuna would burst out, but it didn't come.

"Oh, yeah. We'll have to consider that. I'll go early tomorrow morning to seize the day." Yuna answered quietly, with the faint sound of things stirring in the background of the call. Surely she had just arrived at her apartment.

"Yuna?"

"Mhm?"

"How was the afternoon?"

"Oh, it was normal, really," she replied, her voice flat, as if the thought had barely crossed her mind since the moment she'd left the coffee shop. "I didn't see anyone memorable."

"Ah, so your knights in shining armor didn't attend?"

"Sadly, no." Yuna sighed, her unchanging attitude finding a little more sense in your head. She sounded more tired than anything.

You talked a bit more with Yuna before she excused herself to go about her evening routine and finally get some rest, specifically stressing to you how boring the whole afternoon had been and how every second she only thought about going home. You also told her a bit more about the ideas you and your father had half-heartedly spun as marketing strategies, but very earnestly your friend asked you not to do anything until she was there.

When her name disappeared from your caller ID, an Instagram notification popped up at the top of your home screen. The vibration felt like the pounding of a sledgehammer against wood, your sentence handed down with no chance of appeal, the blood in your veins freezing and an endless emptiness in the pit of your stomach.

jeonjungkook97 just followed you!

It was followed by the notification of a message from Yuna.

Unnie | 19:01 holy shit. jungkook just followed you on ig, right?

No fucking way. Another fucking account to block.

-

It wasn't like you couldn't deal with them. You had been doing it for about ten years. But now they just seemed to want to throw themselves in front of your face one by one and you weren't strong enough to handle that. Maybe your resolve needed to be more forceful; maybe you should be sure you hated them instead of feeling like your body was shaking and you could melt like jelly in the sun every time you felt they were one step closer to you. For a while, that was all you wanted; to find them; to be found. But now…?

The weekend was spent in a hodgepodge of managing your book sales and the seesaw of emotions you had in the face of the estranged but impactful actions of your old friends. You tried not to think about it too much; you really tried, but it was very difficult. It was easier to let the memories wash over you instead of diligently packing up the books on which you had squandered your blood and tears.

Your books, yes, that was the most important thing.

From the posts and hashtags, even though it had only been a couple of days, you could see that some people -those who had actually read the books- were already posting their opinions and reviews and you knew you had had plenty of time to prepare for that moment, but you really weren't ready to face it. You didn't know what it was; whether it was the pollen, the aligned planets, PMS, mercury retrograde… but all of those things were weighing you down too much recently and you weren't ready to hear the opinions.

And you couldn't help but keep asking yourself why? Having spent so much time, between so many experiences and so many personal changes, why now they decided that they would come back into your life? How dare they after ruining your life by completely abandoning you? Many times you wondered what was missing in you; what was never enough for them… sometimes you believed that this was how it was meant to be; just the seven of them, before you came along. It was always them seven first, then you.

Between lows and highs, between sadness and joy, you still had to keep working.

"Get rid of that face if you're not going to tell me what's wrong with you." Yuna crossed the cafeteria in front of you, picking up some glasses and plates on the table as lunchtime approached.

"I don't have any face."

"You've been in a somber mood since Saturday. You look dead."

You clicked your tongue, taking advantage of the fact that the store was nearly empty to do the math. "Don't be over the top."

"I'm just being honest and genuinely concerned about my friend, can you blame me?" Yuna reached the sink and simply left the dishes there to approach the cash register. Your eyes refused to meet hers, unsheathing a strange annoyance in the pit of your stomach.

"I'm fine," you moved the money automatically, doing the math in the back of your head as second nature, "don't worry so much."

"Ok, if you don't want to tell me about it at least try to distract yourself a little, why don't you take an extra half hour for lunch?"

"You know I can't do that."

"Sol would never know."

"I'm not going to do that."

Yuna pouted, dropping her chin onto the back of her hand. You knew she was about to fly you out of that chair the moment all the bills were safeguarded.

A whiplash of pain shot through your chest at the alternative of having to leave the cafeteria, alone, hovering with your thoughts once again, as you tried to shove the food down your throat. But Yuna happily dragged you out of the cafeteria, leaving you in the middle of the street with your little bag and lunch money, wishing you a happy break as she wandered off once more to deal with the sparse crowd of customers alone.

Maybe you should have told her you'd rather not eat than be alone, but…

That was the story of your life.

So you walked to that restaurant a couple of blocks away, where they sold the cheapest food in the area, and waited patiently while answering Yuna's messages to clear your mind.

Going through your social networks, you once again came across the cover of your books in the pre-viewing of a video and felt the bile in your throat. Let's see, you were happy. Or well, you were trying to convince yourself because you still had that bitter feeling in the pit of your stomach that wouldn't let you enjoy this blast like you should and it had a first and last name of its own. But, generally speaking, it was great that your books were selling, forgetting all the other circumstances that led to that happening.

So, standing in front of those videos, you were tormented by not being able to watch them. A self-published author should be prepared for that kind of thing. No, any author should be. Sharing your art with the world implicitly entailed confronting the world's expression in front of it. It was inevitable, of course, and it was also the energy that could start an engine or the fingers that put out the match. At that precise moment, you still didn't want to know what your destiny was.

You hated that. You hated feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. Why was life so heavy if you had just begun to live it?

Ah, too much pondering for one lunch.

And to think this all started with an Instagram story.

Having an existential crisis because you couldn't stand dealing with the stress and pressure of the extreme demand you were having and because of mixed feelings for a bunch of idiots resurfacing after so many years was one of the last things you thought you'd have to go through that year. Fuck, or ever in your entire life.

Taehyung might have done you a favor as well as a disservice.

But that's how you spent a while longer, as you walked back to the coffee shop, the noise of the city not being enough to quell the bustle of thoughts crashing against each other in your head.

Being in the eye of the hurricane, however, didn't mean you were safe. You barely had a breath of fresh air before the eyewall hit you hard once again.

"Noona…?"

You froze a few steps away from the cafeteria. You feared not only the way you immediately recognized the voice, but the way your body froze, fear, panic and uncertainty clouding your sense.

You were in the alley behind the coffee shop. You didn't usually go in that way, but you had taken a slightly longer way back, only because you were too busy thinking about whether or not your body was up to a longer walk.

You were so close to the door that you could almost hear Yuna's voice on the other side, barely muffled by the beeping that echoed in your ears as panic took over your body.

You didn't want to turn around. Your body was having every possible negative reaction, as if it was fighting an infection, the lunch you had just shoved down your throat seeking to make its way back into your mouth and the feeling of dizziness momentarily clouded you.

Was this how you planned to react if you ever saw them again? Was this how you acted out the scenarios you imagined in your head at night when your memories went back to the last time you saw them?

The only difference between those imaginings and what was happening at that moment was that before you could prepare yourself; you knew what was coming; you had control. Now? Your legs were about to give out, the weight of your body too much to bear.

And you wanted to mock the pathetic behavior you were engaging in. You should turn around, slap him and scream at him that you never wanted to see him again. But your heart was beating and feeling and… how could you deny it anything after so many years of being neglected?

But maybe you were imagining it. The little sleep you had this weekend and all the memories you dragged from the trunk since you saw that Instagram notification must have made you crazy enough that you heard voices, his voice, anywhere… you were still near a busy street, it could be anyone-

"y/n."

And, yet…

You didn't turn around knowing what it would entail to give his voice a face, even though you could madly and frankly recall every line of its length, and you spoke harshly through your teeth even though your labored breathing made your chest heave.

"What are you doing here?"

"Noona… you're really here."

You cringed as you heard his footsteps and clutched with inhuman speed at the lock on the door in front of you.

"I asked you a fucking question: what the fuck do you think you're doing here?"

The silence didn't give you an answer, but you could glimpse it. With your patience on edge and years of emotional repression it was impossible for you to deduce how you would react in such a case, but it didn't seem too far-fetched, even if Jungkook's surprised inspiration said he didn't expect you to be so harsh and rude.

As if you cared.

—Yes you did care, in fact, that's why your heart was beating wildly against your ribs, the choking sensation increasing, the nerves on edge and the tears all over the corners of your eyes, but you had to stand your ground. After so, so long… why, why, why, why?—

"I… I…" Jungkook seemed to be having trouble finding his voice, even though in his profession the words came melodiously and easily out of his mouth. If you turned to look at him, you might have noticed that his face went from happiness to anguish with the speed a bullet goes through a field, "I wanted to see you…"

He sounded so small. The five-foot-ten-plus man, who you're sure was almost a head and a half taller than you, might as well have been a badly wounded puppy behind you. You knew from the way he spoke that he was holding back tears, but you didn't let that sway you. He didn't deserve it.

"Who gave you the right to come here?"

You didn't let him answer, not knowing if he was even going to, tightening the lock on the door you were about to walk through at any moment, bile in your throat making you fear the fall as if you were at the top of a skyscraper.

"How the fuck did you even find me?"

"Well, I-"

"I don't fucking want to know!"

You cut him off, the dryness and venom in your voice making you tremble. You were so sad, so distraught and so angry at the same time.

"And I don't want to see you. So leave."

"Noona…"

"Fucking leave, Jeon, for fuck's sake!"

You moved, almost as if by inertia, opening the door and slamming it behind you, the noise so deafening that it echoed in your ears for several seconds until you heard Yuna's footsteps approaching you and felt her arms wrap around your body.

You didn't know what she was saying, you just leaned against the door and let yourself fall, your body shaking in cry after uncontrollable cry, truly wondering how everything had gone so far; wondering how, after so many years, you still allowed them to have that power over you; a power they didn't deserve and shouldn't have.

You felt shattered in that moment, every piece of you scattered in the hold, every moment of your life replaying on its glassy, sharp edges. Even with half of you staying afloat, Yuna held you until the tears stopped flowing and with renewed resolve you promised yourself that this was never going to happen again.

Jungkook had taken you by surprise, but from now on none of them would ever catch you off guard.

-

a/n: i dont really know what to think about this chap. sometimes i like it sometimes i dont. i guess thats just how it works. pls letme know what you think! thank u for all the support! <3

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592 @yoongznme @queenbloody @leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison

[gallaghersgal]

first misses || carmen berzatto

pairing: carmy x fem!reader

warnings & tags: no warnings! fluff, fluff, and more fluff. first kiss scenario. giving carmen the sweet innocent childhood moments he deserves. growing apart but finding each other again <33

a/n: thank u to worm for the idea, and to the tumblr baddie collective for cheering me on! my first FULL length carmy fic, and my first work over 1k in ... actual years i think.

wc: 1.3k

Carmen never liked wearing glasses. they fogged up too often, or slipped down the bridge of his nose. and one time, when he was eleven years old, they just about ruined his life.

You were the prettiest girl in the fifth grade, a Chicago transplant, and the apple of every little boy's eye. But you only had eyes for one Carmen Berzatto. The day you made him hold your hand to cross the street on the field trip to the art museum, he knew he couldn't let summer roll around without telling you how he felt. But Mikey teased him, and Sugar tried her best but her advice sounded too motherly, so Carmen was left to plot for himself.

He still remembers that day, the last day of fifth grade. The pretty gingham dress with the little bow you wore—your Dorothy dress, as you called it—and your hair tied up to play field games with the other kids waiting at pickup. He had tugged you behind the bleachers with nervous, sweaty palms, thankful that you didn't notice or at the very least held back any comments.

"I wanna kiss you," he blurted out, cheeks turning pink at the admission. "C-Can i kiss you?"

You looked down at your feet for a minute, tennis shoe toe digging into the gravel, before you looked up at him. "Um, sure!" you grinned shyly, and Carmen felt like his world was skidding to a halt right then and there. "I've never kissed anyone before. like, on the lips?"

"I-I h-haven't either," he stammered, his face going pale with nerves. His hands began to shake when you stepped up closer.

"That's okay, I think it's easy."

You held out your hand until Carmen took it, then closed your eyes to lean in. He couldn't help but stare curiously, and the moment unfolded before his eyes. Before you could kiss him, your brow ran right into the wireframe of his glasses. You pulled back, a little startled, one eyebrow raised.

"Sorry, 'm s-sorry," he said nervously, watching as you scrunch your nose in concentration. Before he knew what was happening you'd leaned in again. Your lips barely brushed his, those stupid glasses still in the way, but it was a kiss. It counted.

You pulled back with a wide grin, "there! Now we had our first kiss!"

Carmen wanted to say something, he really did. Maybe ask to sign your yearbook, or if you’d want to come see a movie with him, but the teacher was calling your name. You had to leave. You had to leave, and Carmen didn't know if he'd see you at all, for the whole summer. His little heart ached at the thought of not seeing your smile. Not hearing your laugh. Missing the way you always smelled like strawberries and vanilla from your little hand sanitizer, the one he always asked to borrow after recess.

But at that moment you were standing in front of him, with that same pretty grin, and throwing your arms around him for a quick hug. You turned to leave, then turned back, just to surprise him with a sweet kiss to his cheek. "Bye Carmy! Have a good summer!" you said, before running off.

And Carmen just stood there, awestruck.

Sure, he saw you again the next year, but a lot happened that summer. The transition to middle school was a big one, you weren't in any classes together, and year by year the two of you grew apart until Carmen was halfway across the country and you were nothing but a memory.

He didn't see you again until, god, at least thirteen years later. He wasn't sure how long it had been. He wasn't even sure how he'd managed to bump into you. But a few hours and a coffee later you'd given him your number. And that night you'd texted him; would you wanna go out, like on a date? i couldn't bring myself to ask you face to face. but i think it would be nice. just lmk :)

And it was nice. you wore a dress that looked amazing against your skin, and he got to finally tell you how pretty you were, after all the years of silence. After the days spent sketching you in the margins of his notebooks, peering at you from across the cafeteria, and showing up to football games just to get a glimpse of you with your friends. You looked beautiful as ever, and he made sure to tell you. 

“Y’know, I always thought you were so pretty” he mumbled, sounding reverent as he stood outside your apartment door. Your back was against your door, hands not even bothering with pushing it open. 

“That’s really sweet, Carmy,” you whispered. One hand raised up to touch his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips. His cheeks were tinted a soft pink, that same lovely color you’d see when you were young. The one you’d crack jokes, give lingering glances, and throw compliments his way just to see. 

Carmen’s eyes fluttered closed, like he was committing your image to memory. Maybe he was. 

“Do you remember the last day of fifth grade?” you asked cautiously, waiting for him to open his eyes before continuing. “When we kissed under the bleachers?” His embarrassment was written across his face, cheeks flushed and eyes cast down to the floor. You took one curl by the side of his face around your finger, twirled it into a perfect little spiral just to let it go again. Patiently, you waited for him to speak.

“Y-Yeah, yeah. I remember,” he replied with a quiet laugh. “I went home and begged my mom not to make me wear glasses anymore. As if she could’ve done anything about my shitty eyesight,” he added with a scoff.

“Hm. Well, I mean, I guess it worked. You got contacts, yeah? Or are you just blind as a bat?” you asked, and brought your eyes up to meet his own. “Do you wanna try again?” You tacked the last sentence on, almost like an afterthought, afraid if you took too much time to think on it you’d chicken out entirely. 

Carmen grinned, and you swore it was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. Not the tight lipped smile he often wore in photos, no, this was all teeth and sparkling eyes and joy. Like the kid under the bleachers all those years ago. 

“Bats, uhm, they- they aren’t,” he stammered, his hands shaking as they held on to your hips. “Common mistake, see, they’ve actually got-”

“Carmen,” you interrupted softly. He only hummed in response, a soft affirmative noise that let you know he wanted this too. As if the way he looked at you could’ve been interpreted any other way. “Just kiss me.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. His lips were soft–if not a little chapped, but you didn’t mind–when they finally brushed yours, this time with no pesky glasses in the way. One of his hands moved up to the back of your neck, cradling you there.

To call the moment bliss would’ve been an understatement. 

When Carmen finally pulled away from you his eyes remained closed, soaking up the moment, afraid he’d look again to find it was all a dream. A dream he’d had over and over, each night as he drifted off. The sweet girl he’d once known, finally in his arms again.

When his blue eyes finally made their reappearance you were staring at him, analyzing his expression as one finger twirled around that same little curl. “You should come inside,” you told him, and he winced slightly. 

“I-I, don’t wanna fuck it up. Don't wanna rush... this,” he admitted breathlessly, to which you shook your head.

“Nothing like that. Just, don’t wanna stop talking to you,” you explained, showing your intentions were to take this slow. To learn him again, or, was it for the first time? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was his smile, as he nodded and followed you inside.

end.

main masterlist || carmy masterlist

[i-aint-even-bovvered]

On Jewish Anger

Well, I said I was going to make this post. I also know that I'm going to get hate for this, and I'm just going to have to deal with it.

In December of 2019, I made a post that got a couple hundred notes, and it was talking about Jewish fear. I stand by what I wrote then, and I still think most goyim don't understand, but I want to talk about something else.

Anger is less palatable than fear. And yet they go hand in hand for me, for my family, for so much of our community. There is a tacit understanding here. "They will come for us, one day," we say. "They will come to kill us, as they always do. And we will fight." There is fear behind those sentiments, but also anger, because we know it is the truth and we know that we have little choice in the matter. We are taught that it happens in every generation, and that is because, demonstrably, it has.

But it's not polite to talk about it. I can't express it to people who don't know. Non-Jews won't understand, because this type of anger needs an object. It needs someone to be angry with. But you can't say that. Because you're not "allowed" be angry at those groups of people.

The Romans? They're gone. It's laughable to hold such anger at a group of people no longer around.

The multitude of Arab countries that expelled us or killed the remainder? Well, if I mention that, then I must be an Islamophobe.

What about Christians, who spent millennia ghettoizing us and making sure we could never own anything for very long? If I start expressing that anger, I might as well tie my own noose!

And don't forget that there is never a "right" time to talk about antisemitism. There's always something much more important to talk about. And they say that antisemitism isn't even really a big problem. They say "Jews are white" so we don't face discrimination. They conveniently forget that, not only are there Jews of Color, but even light-skinned European-looking Jews have never been considered "white" until fairly recently, and that recent change was only so it was easier to paint us as oppressors. So now that we're trying to talk about antisemitism on a national scale (I'm talking about the US because that is where I live) because there have been multiple incidents all around the country, people are trying to say that it's "Zionist propaganda."

Have any of you considered that, maybe, just maybe, we are also human beings who want to live in peace?

I'm kidding myself. Of course you haven't.

[skyeslittlecorner]

can i request how the kings (+ maybe bael bc i heart him) with a mc that gets turned into a kid somehow and they're like surprisingly shy compared to how they are normally as an adult?

Overworked men are hot, especially when we can give them a break. 🙏 I'm so glad you chose Bael, I haven't written for him for some time. Let's give him a break from those documents.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Satan will pick you up and kick anyone who tries to get close. Especially since you're so adorably shy and flinch at every loud noise. He will make an exception for you and stay in the palace, sending all the other nobles to the front. Even Sitri. Playing with him will definitely not be safe, but it will certainly be much more interesting than anything you experienced as a child.

If Satan picks you up, Mammon won't let you touch the floor at all. You are so petite and cute! The way you cling to his chest and hide your face when others try to talk to you melts his heart. Rent a huge playground just for you so that no one will disturb you. Unfortunately, he won't go on the slide with you because he's *a bit* too big... but he will support you on the monkey bars, climbing nets and ladders.

Beelzebub takes you on the trip of a lifetime. Little one, have you ever been to Disneyland? No? You'll be there soon! Bael attached a baby harness to you and fastened a leash around Beel's wrist so he wouldn't get lost (yes, he). These fears were in vain, because once you clung to him, you didn't want to let go. You went after closing time so you wouldn't get scared by crowds. Somehow, all the devices started working whenever you wanted to play with them. Roller coasters and scary houses are out of the question, but you rode on a unicorn carousel for half the night

Leviathan didn't seem to change at all, but as soon as Barbaos startled you with his enthusiasm, he hanged him higher than usual. No one has the right to touch you, preferably not even look at you. He doesn't have any toys he can to give you, but he will send his nobles to buy some. He will smile much more and speak much softer than usual. This guy is like a father for a whole country, he definitely has a soft spot for children.

Bael is the only one who will wonder what happened, how, why, and how to undo it. You won't give him much time to think when you hide behind him from the servants who start cooing at you. He will send them away and take you to the office. All the toys they have in the palace are for adults... but he has an idea. Have you ever made origami? It's the first time he'll spend a whole day in the office working on papers, and he'll be able to say he had very good time.

[isa-ghost]

Start reblogging posts about Venezuela.

It's almost 5pm CST on Friday August 9th as I'm posting this. EVERY post I've seen about Venezuela hasn't even broken 100 notes, minus this one that was posted TUESDAY and should be well over 100 notes by now, yet it isn't (and is a good overview of the situation, so please read and reblog it).

LOOK AT THIS:

This post. Only 28 notes in over 10 hours.

This post. Posted YESTERDAY and only at 58 notes.

This post. Only 21 notes in over 10 hours.

This post. 13 notes in 9 hours.

This post. Over 7 hours and only 22 notes.

This post. Posted on MONDAY and barely over 100 notes.

This post. Posted on WEDNESDAY and only 27 notes.

This post. Posted TUESDAY and only 37 notes.

And I could still go on. Again, TWO posts out of countless others over 100 notes, and those 100 note posts were posted DAYS ago and should be in the thousands by now.

Pick up the slack. Reblog these posts. Spread awareness about Venezuela.

All of these are tagged AT LEAST with #Venezuela, and they haven't spread like wildfire. Venezuela isn't even trending. Venezuelans are being arrested for posting on social media about the situation and can't obtain the awareness this situation needs all on their own. If you are not Venezuelan, you should be reblogging these posts. Even if the posts aren't in English and you can't read them.

You do not get to refuse to reblog this post just because you might interpret it as passive aggressive. Venezuelans need our help spreading awareness of what's going on there. Your refusal to boost these posts that have been linked because of the tone of a post is privileged and bullshit. REBLOG THEM.

If you care so much about politics and election fraud in the US, you should care just as much about it happening in any other country. Fraud is fraud, no matter where. I see posts with TENS OF THOUSANDS of notes about the US political bullshit. Bring that same energy for Venezuela.

Here are more posts that are important and helpful to reblog:

Post

Post

Post

Post

Post

Post

Post

Post

Post

Post

If you like but don't reblog this post, I am blocking you. You are part of the problem.

[pers1st]

when every door closes

pairing: leah williamson x reader

notes: mentions of ed, mentions of j*rge vilda (also the title will make sense with the second part)

Traveling to whichever tournament it may be with the Spanish national team had so far, for you, been a pleasant experience. You were still young, and despite the fact that you weren't granted many opportunities to prove yourself on the field, you took every camp as a chance to learn from players such as María Leon, or Alexia Putellas, or Irene Paredes.

Of course, it was a difficult environment to enjoy. The brutal coaching methods had not yet reached you, but you felt it in the atmosphere in which the team operated- the fact that most, if not all players, were negatively affected by every training session, every match, every team talk.

You had simply been lucky enough not to experience the worst of it. Not yet, anyways.

But all of this was due to change when you arrived in England in preparation for the Euros. This tournament, you had been particularly excited about. Playing an international competition in your girlfriend's home country, with both her and your parents vowing to support you, had had you buzzing from the second Spain had qualified. You had no idea things would take a turn for the worst the second you arrived for the first training session, but you were granted a first thought about it when Jorge pulled you aside just as you were about to warm up.

"Y/N, I know you haven't played much for Spain yet, but I want this tournament to be your opportunity. You've grown a lot at Arsenal, and I'm sure we can profit off of your talents, no? Don't let me down", he smiled as he raised his eyebrows expectantly. You, of course, nodded. You weren't going to let him down, you were going to do everything you could to prove yourself, to prove the world, that you were a good center back.

Only you couldn't have known that Jorge would do everything he could to keep you from doing exactly that. Or so, at least, it seemed.

The next day, you and Ona were sitting in the hotel's cafeteria for breakfast ahead of training when he slipped you a note, patting your shoulder as he breezed past you. Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, you turned the paper to inspect it, and found glaringly red letters written across it.

Meal Plan, Y/N Y/L/N, updated

You swallowed thickly, scanning across the rest of the note, your stomach turning at the sight. He had decreased your caloric intake. He had added a goal weight for you to reach by the beginning of the tournament.

"What is it?", Ona asked as she chewed her food, glancing at you worriedly. You didn't notice the way the table across from you had turned towards you as well.

"Oh, just my meal plan", you smiled briefly as you folded the note and stuffed it into your back pocket, continuing to poke your food around the plate as you listened to Ona's debrief of her season with Manchester United.

You weren't really listening, though. Instead, your mind had gone into overdrive, whirring with thoughts as you failed to understand any of the reasons behind your manager's action.

Were you too heavy?

Surely not. You hadn't noticed any weight gain, and despite the fact that you were unable to put an exact number to your weight, you knew that Arsenal monitored both your eating habits and your measurements closely, ever since you'd come forward about your eating disorder. Jorge knew of it as well.

Were you too heavy?

It was those thoughts that kept you from showing off your talents in training, and that kept you from sleeping at night. Everything you did was calculated- almost forced, and to any of your older teammates, it was clear as day that you were trying so hard to be perfect, you failed to even be average.

The meal plan was soon followed by extra cardio sessions, nasty whispers in passing and an intense amount of pressure as you neared the beginning of the tournament.

You missed Leah more than ever, then. Although she wasn't far away, you felt as though worlds divided you, you felt as though you couldn't get enough of her. Every night, you spoke to her on the phone, although you never mentioned the weight of what was happening. She could sense that something was wrong, could sense that you were pressuring yourself far more than what was healthy, but she decided to keep quiet about it, instead distracting you, and having Beth yap your ear off multiple teams when the girl noticed the two of you were speaking on the phone. Every time you saw Leah appear on your screen, a smile appeared on your face. It was as if she could lift every weight off your shoulders with just a single word, even if just for the time being.

By the time your last training session started, you were close to either throwing up from nerves or collapsing due to exhaustion, but you didn't allow for either of those options, instead pushing yourself through every minute of it, until Alexia went down with an injury and the training was stopped. You watched somberly as your captain was guided off the pitch with both Mapi and Vilda by her side, and as cruel as it sounded, it finally gave you a moment to breathe. Clutching your water bottle tightly, you swayed from right to left as you walked over to a bench by the side of the pitch, dropping yourself down slightly imbalanced.

"Come on, chica. You need a break", Marta whispered as she put her hand on your shoulder, rubbing back and forth slightly.

"Is it too hot?", she asked, to which you shook your head. The heat wasn't as big of a problem as was the lack of food in your system.

"No, just need to catch my breath", you reassured her with a forced smile as you finished what was left of your electrolyte drink.

"Go back to the hotel with Ona and sleep, okay? You need some rest, sí?"

The aftermath of Alexia leaving the camp only hit you when you read the news of her ACL tear, cradled underneath the protection of your blanket, your phone tightly in your hands.

Alexia, along with María, had been the ones to slightly reassure you, without allowing for questions, with every chance they got. A soft comment here, a smile there, it was never much, but it was enough to keep you grounded, if only in the moment. Now, though, you were panicking, only grasping the magnitude of your captain's departure now that it was announced she'd be flying back to Spain to have surgery.

As if your situation couldn't worsen, the door flew open as Ona entered your shared room, her eyes immediately fixating on your slightly shaky frame in a bed that seemed far too big for you. You could tell by her face that she wasn't just confused or worried- she was hiding something.

"What is it?", you asked, your voice heavy with the events of today as Ona quietly shuffled closer.

"It's nothing, chica. Just, Jorge..."

"What? What did he say?"

You sat up straight in your bed, shifting the blanket back as your hands tightened into fists.

"He said that because training ended early, you should do another cardio session."

The room was quiet for a second, neither of you daring to move. Then, you nodded.

"Okay, I'll-"

"You really don't need to, chica. It's bullshit- what he's forcing you to do, I don't get what he-"

"No, no. It's fine. Thanks for letting me know", you forced yourself to smile, gripping your phone even tighter before slipping on your shoes and exiting the hotel room, still in your pajamas, tears dwelling in your eyes.

Were you really that bad?

Before you could think more about where your mind was leading you, you dialed the only number that made sense, pressing the phone to your ear as you opened the door to the gym, sliding down against one of the walls.

"Hey, love. How are you?", Leah asked. "I wanna see you." You could hear the smile on her face as you reluctantly accepted her FaceTime request, grateful that the lights were off as Leah wasn't able to make out your tearstained cheeks.

"Chicaaa", you could hear Beth in the background, laughing softly.

"Is that the girlfriend?!", another person asked as you realized Leah was most likely surrounded by her teammates, having a good time. How could the same tournament be so different for the two of you?

"Sorry, Lee, I can call back", you mumbled, your breath hitching as your girlfriend's eyebrows furrowed, and the other end of the line suddenly fell silent.

"No, let me just go somewhere more private", she mumbled before exiting whatever room she had occupied before.

"What's going on?"

Leah had, so far, been updated regularly about your own camp, and although you had mentioned your meal plan to her, you had kept silent about all of the brutal comments, the pressure, all of it. Now, however, you didn't know how to hide it anymore.

"He's so horrible, Lee. Everything he does, it's just- I can't ever do it right", you cried, your words a mumbled mess under the tears that were washing down your face. There was a pain spreading throughout your body that was glooming from more than just the extremely difficult training session today, it was more than just the exhaustion of the preparation for the Euros, it was indescribable. You choked on a sob as your girlfriend's worry-filled eyes narrowed in anger.

"Hey, baby, it's okay. I mean, it's not okay, and I wish I could kill him, but you're okay, love."

You could tell she didn't really believe herself and was merely attempting to calm you down, but she succeeded, anyways. Usually, you craved her presence, craved her arms around you, pressing your body tightly, whenever you felt even the slightest dip in your mood. Now, after spending multiple weeks apart from her, under such impossible conditions, her soft voice was enough to lower your heart rate, to silence the thoughts in your head, to make everything even the slightest bit better.

"He's just- This is the only chance to prove myself, you know? He's finally given me a chance, but it's like he doesn't want me to be good, you know? He's doing everything to tear me down", you mumbled, wiping the remaining tears out of your eyes.

"So, do it out of spite. He wants you to fail, wants you to crumble under the pressure. Don't prove him right. Show him what you can do in spite of everything he's doing, prove him that you're better than he could ever understand. Love, you are such an incredible player, and this is your chance to prove it to the world. You're gonna be insane on that pitch, I know it. Honestly, I'm scared we'll have to play against you, there's no coming through your backline", she chuckled softly, smiling at you reassuringly. You nodded, ever so slightly.

"Yeah, don't speak it into existence", you mumbled back.

But your girlfriend had, of course, spoke it into existence. Not just the fact that you finally seemed to find your footing, with the support of all of the senior players stepping in to protect you in the best way they could, but also the fact that after breezing through the group stage, you were coming up against England for the quarter finals.

Despite the fact that Esther managed to put your team ahead relatively early on, England put up an exceptional front, and you and Mapi were working relentlessly to keep a clean sheet. For quite some time, it worked well, and your team seemed to progress onto the semi-final. When Ella Toone scored in the eighty-fourth minute, a bitter taste washed through your mouth as you bit your tongue hard enough to draw blood.

Every single one of Jorge's comments rang right through you, even through the loud crowd that had formed to cheer on the English. Mapi noticed as well, and patted your shoulder comfortingly after you first conceded, but it was no use.

During the added time, you conceded again, and the dream of winning the Euros slipped away with every failed attempt of your offense.

When the whistle finally rang, you were unable to hold your body up anymore, and although tears glistened on your cheeks as you sat on the grass, watching as your girlfriend's team celebrated, you couldn't help but feel another emotion with that of disappointment- relief. It was over. The team would leave, likely tomorrow or the day after, and you would watch Jorge Vilda fly back to Spain and finally be free of his judgement.

Still, your shoulders shook with sobs. You had failed. Not only to prove yourself, but to prove him wrong. Leah had told you to play your best football out of spite, but you hadn't. You had allowed for England to score twice. You had not only let yourself, but the whole team down.

Before you could dwell on your thoughts any longer, you felt two hands land on your shoulders, softly rubbing the fabric as you hid your face behind your own hands.

"Love, look at me", Leah asked of you, and you slowly complied, pulling your shirt up instead to wipe over your wet cheeks.

"You did so well, Y/N. I'm so proud of you", she smiled softly, but when another sob shook your body, she gently pressed your face into the crook of her neck, allowing for you to let your emotions out for the time being.

"I'm proud of you. You did so, so well. You made everyone proud, today", she kept reminding you as you sobbed into her skin, finally feeling her arms around your body, finally breathing in her scent, finally feeling her presence again.

This time, it took a while for you to calm down. Pain ran through you deeply, but you allowed yourself to move on slowly, knowing that crying now wasn't going to help your case, not at all. The Euros were over for you, and all that was left to do was support your girlfriend and Arsenal teammates as they progressed through the semifinals. The thoughts of wearing your girlfriend's jersey, while being seated between her and your own parents, cheering her on from the sidelines as she captained her team through the rest of the tournament filled you with pride.

[putthatfuckingfootdown]

"My country's history is one of manufactured suffering. I was a boy when the Tudors burned any food the rebels under O'Neil might think to eat. We starved; everyone starved. Mouths on the dead stained green from chewing nettles. You get resourceful in a famine. My parents... died early, left me and my sister - catching rats. The rats ran out quick... fed my sister on my blood... kept her alive an extra, two weeks. I didn't sleep for three days to protect her body from the starving til the ground thawed. I cut out her kidneys... and buried her. Fat cap on 'em like a pea. I haven't eaten a single meal, since, my mind didn't go to that bite. Was the last thing I ever did because I had to. I control my life now.

Every bite."

This quote from Fowler has been on my mind for a week or more and I only found time to research it now. I thought for sure, this was something I'd have learned about, being British and learning about the Royal family and the Tudors in particular being one of those things that British kids learn about.

I was in secondary school in the 2000s so it might've changed since, but we never learned about the Irish famines or the Nine Years War. Considering I'd already checked that guns existed in Japan in the stated time frame and that the borders were closed by the shogun, I figured this was based in reality, but maybe with an artistic exaggeration.

Turns out it's not. Like, it's not even close to exaggeration.

I love things that make me research things, but I didn't think I was gonna read so much unbelievably awful information. Much, much more in the source:

No wonder Fowler is the way he is. Talk about serious, SERIOUS trauma.

[cantotallyeven]

Ya'll wanna know how I know all you "I'm not antisemitic I'm just antizionist" people are full of shit?

There are currently 3 countries (counting Gaza) sitting on the land that was once Palestine, but you're only talking about Israel. Can you name the other one?

There are currently 2 countries blockading Gaza, preventing refugees from getting out and supplies from getting in, but you're only talking about Israel. Can you name the other one?

Multiple empires have controlled the region in the past two thousand years. You're not talking about the most recent one or it's role in the current situation. Can you even name it?

Do you know what percentage of Israel is Muslim?

During the initial formation of Israel, approximately 700k Palestinians were expelled from their homes. How many Jews were expelled from their homes in the neighboring MENA countries during that same time period?

Since you don't like to count Jews as a race (a topic for another post) what racial group makes up the majority of Israel's population?

To be clear, I'm not saying Israel is blameless in all of this, especially the current government. But if you are really here to support the Palestinian people and not just hate on Jews? You should know the other parties involved and pass at least some of the blame on them. Oh and then there's the current and ongoing genocide of Muslims in China. I've seen some posts in support of them, but I haven't seen any liberals chanting "gas the Chinese".

Did I get anything wrong in my post? Quite possibly. it's 5am and I can't sleep and this region has been in conflict since before Jews or Muslims existed. It's got a long complicated history and it's why prior to the most recent attacks you'll barely find any posts on my blog about it. But people are pretending like the Jews should just pack up and go home as if there aren't Jews currently living there who were literally forced out of their homes and told to "go home to Israel" 75 years ago or Jews who have always lived there and like those same people aren't also very clearly showing that Jews don't have a safe home in any other country we may have ties to.

[ninii-winchester]

I don’t wanna live forever

Pairing : Demon!Dean X Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: angst, demon dean, violence, language. Unedited

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Been sitting eyes wide open behind these four walls, hoping you'd call

It's just a cruel existence like there's no point hoping at all

Baby, baby, I feel crazy, up all night, all night and every day

Y/n knew Dean getting the Mark of Cain was the most stupidest thing he's ever done, taking into consideration that he's Dean Winchester and he's done plenty of stupid in his life. Part of her wants to strangle Crowley for getting him into that mess but part of her knew that Dean would've done whatever it'd take to take down Abbadon. She didn't think it'd bring them here to this day where Dean would turn into a demon and leave the bunker for good. He's with Crowley and God knows where.

A knock on the door breaks her away from her thoughts. She looks up to see Sam standing in the doorway.

"Glaring at the walls of his room won't bring him back Y/n." He said sympathetically. He knew she was hurting as much as he was. After-all they both love Dean.

"What am I supposed to do, Sam." She sounded defeated. "I've tried calling him a thousand times and he doesn't answer."

"We're doing the best we can and we will bring him back, you know that." Sam replied walking towards her and sitting on the bed. "You know we always do." 

"Part of me thinks he doesn't want to come back, its like there's no point hoping." She felt herself tear up. "The mark is overpowering him."

"Hey don't think about it. Our Dean is still in there. We'll bring him back." Sam looked at her face. She looked tired. "Y/n you haven't slept in days. You should get some rest."

"Yeah."

I don't wanna live forever, 'cause I know I'll be living in vain

And I don't wanna fit wherever

I just wanna keep calling your name until you come back home

It's been days since Dean left and Y/n has had enough. She knows Sam's been torturing demons to find out Dean and Crowley's location but she can't just sit around anymore. She'll do whatever it takes to find him even if it's illegal. She opens up her laptop and hacks into the traffic signal camera's all over the country. She runs a facial recognition of Dean's face and the Impala's license plate. She crossed her fingers hoping it does it thing soon because the longer she stays on the site the more risk she's at getting into trouble. Although the bunker is untraceable they can't afford the feds on their ass.

The screen loads successfully and she jumps in happiness. The Impala last crossed a traffic signal three towns over. She didn't know when Sam would return so she didn't wait for him. She quickly changed into her Fed suit and drove towards her destination.

Knowing Dean, he's probably at some bar, she shortlisted the bars across that town and hoped she'd find him in one of those. She visited two bars and much to her dismay he hadn't been there. However at the third bar, she didn't find him but she found a clue.

"That man? Yeah he was here a few hours ago, got into fight with another guy. Beat him to a pulp so had to kick him out." The bartender said while cleaning the countertop.

"Any idea where he went?" She asked with hope.

"There's another bar ten minutes from here, you can check there." She tipped the man, thanking him for his help.

"Agent." He called out behind her, she turned to him, "be careful out there, that man's feral." She nodded and left

the place.

She walked in the inside the bar and it was almost empty considering it's pretty early in the day. She noticed a figure sitting at the bar top and immediately recognised him.

"Dean." She called out softly. He turned to look at her but then he turned again focusing on his drink. She said his name again and moved towards him but was stopped by an annoyingly familiar voice.

"Oh Vixen found her Squirrel. Didn't bring Moose along?" The voice spoke in a Scottish accent.

"Fuck off Crowley." She replied glaring at the man in the black suit.

"You wound me, darlin." He sassed. "Dean doesn't wanna go back so why can't you two blithering idiots.... LET HIM GO."

"I'm not fucking around here." She pulled out her gun pointing it at him, she removed the safety. "Let me talk to him. Alone."

"Your guns don't work on me." He replied smugly.

"I wouldn't be so sure." She challenged, knowing she'd carved the devils trap into the bullets. She knew she'd never have the heart to use it on Dean but Crowley is a different matter. The short man rolled his eyes and poofed away. She made her way towards Dean and sat beside him.

"Dean.." she said his name ever so softly just the way she always did. He didn't even turn to look her continuing to pour drink after drink in his glass. "Baby, let's go home." She moved her hand to put on top of his. He raised his brow at the gesture.

"I'm telling you this once. Leave." Dean moved his hand away and looked at her. No trace of a smile on his face, the smile she had come to love.

"No, I won't leave here without you. Come back home." She partially begged. "I don't wanna live without you, Dean. Please come home with me."

He stood up, his laugh resonating through the empty bar. She looked at him, hurt written all across her face. She knew this wasn't her Dean but seeing him act this way didn't hurt any less. She walked right in front of him as he stopped laughing.

"What's funny huh?" Anger bubbled inside her.

"Oh nothing." He shrugged, an evil smile appeared on his face. "You said you wouldn't leave here without me, yeah?" He asked rhetorically circling around her. "And you said you can't live without me either." He paused, dramatically thinking for a second.

"Dean.."

"How about I kill you then, right here, right now." He said stopping in front of her with a blade knife. "It'll be so much fun, for me." Y/n took a deep breath, her gun clutched in her hand tightly. "For you though..." he drawled with a chuckle.

"I don't wanna hurt you Dean." She replied.

"I don't think you can, even if you want to." Dean smirked evilly. "Last chance. Leave."

"I'm not going anywhere." She said. "Not without you."

"I'm gonna have so much fun." Dean scoffed before he grabbed her by the neck, choking her. She tried pushing his hand away but she was having a hard time. She kicked him the stomach making him loosen his grip but not completely let go. He threw the against the bar top, she groaned as fell. Her gun falling from her hand.

"This isn't you Dean." She coughed getting up.

"I told you to leave." Dean threw a punch but she moved out of way and his hand smashed a bottle. She punched him the jaw and he recoiled. He pushed her to ground and straddled her waist. He pinned her arms above her head in one of his hands, immobilising her.  The mark on his arm itched and he brought the knife to her throat. He pressed it and watched as blood trickled down the column of her neck.

"Do it." She said looking at him.

"I'll take my time with it." Dean replied smugly. Her scratched her cheek with the blade. He then moved it down to her collarbone and she screamed in pain. His lips formed into a sinister smile.

Y/n took a deep breath. She wasn't sure if Dean forgot that she mostly fights with her legs or was it his cocky demonic self that made him leave her legs completely unattended. She brought her legs upwards and hooked her them around his waist, catching him off guard and flipping him off her. That seemed to have pissed him off. 

She made a run for her gun but he was able to slash her side before she got her hands on the weapon. She gasped, her right hand touching the wound while she gripped her gun in her left.

"You're pathetic, you know you can't win yet you try so hard." Dean growled closing in on her. "But now I'm bored." He grabbed her left arm and twisted it until a crack was heard. She screamed as the gun fell from her hand. He picked it up and pointed at her head. He pulled the trigger without even blinking.

Y/n blinked as she felt herself being moved from her place. And then she heard a gunshot. Turns out Crowley moved her last minute before Dean fired. She watched Dean wide eyed, unable to process that he was going to kill her. She's alive not because he didn't want to kill her but because Crowley intervened.

"Why did you-" she barely let out but Crowley had disappeared but this time with Dean.

I'm sitting eyes wide open and I got one thing stuck in my mind

Wondering if I dodged a bullet or just lost the love of my life

Back at the Bunker, Y/n had her arm in a cast, the wound on her side stitched up and bandages all over her. She had taken painkillers for the physical pain but she doesn't know how to sooth her hollow heart.

She laid on Dean's bed and stared at the ceiling, unmoving. A knock resonated at the door and it opened a few seconds later.

"If you're here to tell me I was stupid and reckless. Save it." She said without removing her eyes from the ceiling.

"I know you just wanted him back." Sam replied.

"He's gone, Sam." A tear slipped from her eye. She sat up and looked at the younger Winchester "He wasn't my Dean." Before she knew her body shook and sobs escaped her lips. "Makes me wonder if I dodged the bullet or just lost the love of my life."

Sam sat beside her and wrapped his arm around her as much as he could without hurting her. "After everything that's happened, you still?" Sam trailed off not knowing how to continue.

"I told you Sam he wasn't my Dean. My Dean would rather die than hurt me. Of course I love him." She whispered in his chest. "It hurts to think of what he's become, so much more than these wounds could ever hurt."

"Dean's lucky you chose him. I'm sure he'll agree when he comes back." Sam assured her. "I won't give up on him. He's my brother. I'll bring him back for you. For us." Sam promised and he hoped he could keep that promise.

Part 2

[theglamorousferal]

Persephone's Binding Part 3

Anger Management/Hardcover ship Sacrificial Bride au

AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

As Jason was engrossed in the collection of Infinite Realms lore, a knock sounded at the door. "Come in." Jason said absentmindedly finding a stopping point and placing his finger in between the pages to mark his spot. Jeeves let himself in.

"Yes sir, it is dinnertime, I have been sent to escort you to the dining room." He said as he patiently floated.

"Right yeah, let me just find a bookmark-"

"Here you are sir." Jeeves held out a silver feather shaped bookmark from apparently the aether.

"Awesome, thanks." He placed the bookmark in his spot and set it on the side table next to the bed. "Okay, lead the way please."

Once more Jason was led throughout the dark, yet glowing, halls of the High Queen's castle. They passed many different entities, all of which were obviously not human and Jason hadn't seen this diversity of different fashions since he was last at a costume party. There were actual knights with swords and lances, some yeti's with arms full of scrolls, and eight foot tall women with bright blue skin and Amazonian armor, some with multiple arms. There was what appeared to be a wolf-man talking with the knights, in some language that seemed to have some roots in Latin, though other words he could hear were from other areas. Eventually, they arrived at a set of carved wooden doors.

"Here you are sir, the royal family awaits you inside." Jeeves said prepared to open the door.

"Wait, the whole family? I thought it was just Jazz?" Jason was suddenly nervous, he thought he'd have more time before meeting the family.

"It's quite alright sir, tonight it is only the High Queen Regent and High Prince Danny in attendance. I believe she thought the entire family would be a bit much, but the High Prince has a habit of showing up anyway. He is quite protective of his sister." With that bit of advice, Jeeves opened the door.

The room was ornate, though not as large as he was expecting, clearly this was the smaller dining room. Sat at the head of the table in a seat that in some countries would be considered a throne, was Jazz, she still had her helm-crown, but now she was just in the teal toga with clasps shaped like a sun at both shoulders. She still had her arm bracers on, which he expected, if she was trained by an Amazon, then those would likely stay on always.

Sat to her right was a young man, perhaps around 19 years old, with jet black hair and piercing blue eyes. He had been talking animatedly with Jazz when he heard the door open and his eyes snapped to Jason. He was in clothing far more similar to the yeti Frostbite, though in different colors and with a white peasant shirt on. Where Frostbite had gold, Danny had silver, where the yeti had blue, Danny had black.

"So, you're the sacrifice huh?" Danny looked unimpressed at Jason's entire existence. "How'd you manage to get sacrificed? You look like you'd be hard to take down for cultists."

Jason took a moment to process what was said and then made his way to the seat to the left of Jazz. He cleared his throat. "They got me while I was distracted helping a little girl get her stuffie that was stuck on her rusty fire escape. When she was walking away with her mom, I got clocked on the back of the head. Now I'm here." He splayed out his hands as if to say 'what can you do?'

"Hmmm, okay that's fair. At least I know you're not a cretin. What are your opinions on the undead?" He slouched back into his chair with his arms crossed, a critical eye on Jason.

"Danny! I thought I told you no twenty-questions! He hasn't even been here a day, and since I was dealing with paperwork all afternoon, I haven't been able to talk with him yet either." She scolded before she turned to Jason. "I am so sorry about him, I had one bad boyfriend years ago and now he thinks any guy that comes near me has unsavory intentions." She turned back to Danny. "Jason didn't choose to be here, remember? I'm sure the whole sacrificing to an unknown being in an unknown dimension has got to be somewhat traumatic and I don't want to make him relive that if we can help it."

Jason snorted. "Honestly, not even in my top ten most traumatic experiences. This one ranks so far a solid 3/10."

"Really?" Danny quirked an eyebrow. He stared longer at Jason and his eyes flashed that Lazarus green. "Ancients dude, what the hell happened to you?"

Jason sighed heavily. "I mean, Jazz already knows some of it, but," he swallowed heavily, "I died." He took a deep breath. "And then I came back. It hasn't been great since then." He said with a tone of finality, indicating he was done with this line of questioning. Danny's look of judgement turned more understanding.

"Okay, let's say we start dinner then? I'm sure you have some questions for us too." Jazz clapped her hands and skeletons came in with carts full of food. They placed plates in front of each of them and refilled the glasses of water before exiting the room. Upon the plate was a cut of salmon, some roasted asparagus and mashed potatoes. Okay, so they at least have a similar diet to humans. He dug in, and was reminded of Alfred's cooking.

Alfred...

"Would it be possible to get a message to my family somehow? To let them know that I'm alright?" He asked a little desperately.

The siblings traded glances. "It might take a while to pin down the correct dimension, but we should have a record of your time here in the archives, and that should have your dimensional code. You mentioned heroes, maybe we can pin down which one it might be if we can figure out which ones have those heroes?"

"There are heroes in your universe?" Danny perked up at the mention of heroes. Seems like the kid is intrigued by them.

"Yeah, there's a bunch, I don't even know all of them. The big three started an organization called the Justice League. Superman, Wonder Woman and Batman founded it to help protect the Earth."

"What's their deal? What are their powers? Do you know any of them?"

"Danny! What did I say about the twenty questions?"

Jason narrowed his eyes momentarily, thinking. Do I tell them? I did show up in armor with a domino on. "It's alright Jazz, I'm used to being interrogated by younger siblings. It comes with having the Batman as a father and all his birds and bats as siblings." He looked a little smug, bragging about his family where they would never hear him.

Both siblings looked blankly at him. Right.

He blew out a breath. "I forgot you don't know who that is." He took a bite and thought how to describe his family. "So, B is the world's greatest detective, and every one of his kids ended up becoming heroes in their own right. All of us are human, one of us has meta abilities, but we mostly rely on our minds, bodies and tech. Superman is from the planet Krypton, but it was destroyed just after he was born and his parents shipped him off to Earth. He's got a laundry list of powers, but the big ones are super strength, flight, enhanced senses and laser and x-ray vision. Wonder Woman is an Amazon Warrior Princess from Themyscira, she was molded from clay by her mother Hippolyta and trained as the strongest warrior of her people. She's got flight, super strength and the Golden Lasso of Truth." Jazz grasped her bracers when it was mentioned that Wonder Woman was an Amazon. Jason looks directly at her. "I noticed you have similar bracers and armor to her, as well as some of the people I've seen around the castle. Were you trained by an Amazon?"

Jazz looked up with wide eyes, not expecting the connection. She quickly recovered and took a bite of food before responding. "Yes, I was trained by Lady Pandora here in the Realms. When I completed my training, I received these." Jason nodded.

"Wait, Pandora? Like the Box Pandora?"

"Yeah, she's nice, but strict. She's the Ancient of Peace, and trained me in quite a lot before I took the throne. I found I quite enjoy sword fighting."

"Maybe we can spar sometime? Lord knows I get enough practice from the Demon Brat demanding fights all the time." Jason and Jazz shared a smile with each other.

"Demon Brat? Do you have a demon sibling?" Danny asked, startling Jason and Jazz and causing them both to blush lightly. He smirked at breaking up the moment.

"No, I just call him that. He's the only one of us that's biologically B's, but he was kinda raised in a murder cult. When he first came to us, he tried to murder every one of us to gain his 'rightful place as blood son'. Obviously it didn't work, but it was not for lack of trying. Replacement got the worst of it honestly, and the Brat seems to mellow out around Dickwing."

"How many siblings do you have?" Danny asked shocked.

"Uh, that's a good question. Are we talking legal adoption or emotional adoption?"

"What's the difference?"

"Oh probably at lease six people."

"I think your dad has a problem."

"Trust me, you aren't the first to say that and you definitely aren't the last." They all dug into their dinner and there was several minutes of quiet. "So, I guess the biggest thing about my universe would be finding one that has the League and meta-humans. Then find whichever one is missing me that should have me in it."

"Yeah, that's probably a good start, I'll get some of my aides to scour the archives. One team to locate the file about the time you spent here when you were, you know," Jazz hesitated, "Yeah, and then I'll have a team looking for the files on which universes have those heroes you mentioned. If there's any other details you can think of to help us narrow it down, that'd be great." She looked at him earnestly.

He smiled softly at her. "Yeah, I'll let you know. I guess another big one is probably that in that universe, I am known as the Red Hood."

"Oh, is that your hero name?" Danny asked.

"Uh, kinda kid. My methods are often frowned upon by the majority of the hero community, they also don't like that I use guns most of the time." He cleared his throat. "Some people consider me a hero, most just see me as a nuisance crime lord of Crime Alley. Which, I get, I do technically run drugs, but it's just to keep it outta the hands of kids and make sure it's all clean so nobody's dying from contaminated product. It's gonna get sold anyway, I might as well make it as safe as I can. I'm just trying to clean up my city as best I can." He carefully wasn't looking at either of them, they seemed like decent people, they probably would agree with the majority on this particular topic.

Jazz placed a hand over his. "I get it. There are some decisions I have had to make since taking rule that seemed counter-productive to my goal, but any little thing helps. You do what you need, those people are just gonna try and get it elsewhere that's not as safe if you don't provide the service, I'm sure some people are thankful for you." Jason looked at her as though seeing her for the first time. That is, his mind stuttered at how regal she held herself as she was comforting him, leader to leader.

Danny cleared his throat breaking the moment again. Jazz was wide-eyed for a moment before collecting herself and Jason blushed to the tips of his ears. Dinner was cleared by the same skeletons from earlier and dessert was placed before them. It appeared to be a chocolate fudge sundae with hand-churned vanilla ice cream.

"So you mentioned sparring, You gotta spar with me before you can spar with Jazz." Danny pointed at him with his spoon.

Jazz sighed, exasperated. "Danny."

"Nope! You have meetings all day tomorrow, I call first dibs."

"Danny!"

"Come on Jazz, I haven't been able to spar with anyone new in so long. Please please please?"

Jazz rolled her eyes and looked over to Jason. "If it's alright with you? He's right, I'm busy all day tomorrow so I wasn't going to be able to entertain you anyway, and it's probably better than being cooped up in the guest room all day."

Jason shrugged his shoulders. "I don't see why not? It'll be fun, I usually spar with an alternate version of Superman named Bizarro, so I'll go easy on you." Jason smirked, but was startled to find Danny already smirking at him with fanged teeth.

"Oh, you'll regret that." There was a bright flash of white light and suddenly floating there was a color-inverted version of Danny with bright Lazarus green eyes. He winked and flew out one of the windows near the ceiling.

There were a couple awkward moments before either of them spoke. "So, I didn't want to be insensitive at all, but uh, are you guys human? I know you said you were from Earth, but I've met all sorts of different types of beings too." Jazz sighed heavily.

"That's a complicated answer." She closed her eyes and folded her hands on the table. "Let's move to the library, we can discuss more details there." They rose and he followed her out the door and down the corridor.

[kazimirovich]

all i can say forever

i'm jewish. as a child i moved from a rural town where my family saw acts of rage and hate, emigrated from a country with a horrifying history with jews. you know the one, though there are many. i'm 31 now and i have seen and experienced antisemitism my whole life, in the many places i've lived, to varying degrees. not that i should need to qualify this before everything i have to say - but i know what that looks and feels like. in my life there have been times at which i have been in danger. i choose to stay out of danger in all the ways i was taught. (part of that is not moving into someone else's house uninvited (more in a sec))

(well-meaning?) people want me to have a relationship with israel. they are very invested in assuming i have some connection to this shifting space, this project. they associate my german jewishness with a place i have never been and never felt. home, for me, is the uncle i haven't seen in too long, the ailing brother of my mother, the same red nose. it's fresh sheets hung over dry summer grass, it's bavarian farmland, it's thick liptauer on pumpernickel bread warmed over the wood stove. it's my grandmother's dining room and rough fenceposts, borders we disrespected as kids. home is also here and there and where my family is, where my friends are, where i've built myself.

in a geopolitical sense, it is clear that the antisemitic position is to sequester jews into a partitioned state conceived of by non-jews after the sunset of our most recent attempted decimation. antisemitic, to tell jews "move here, be at home in this space of constant war. impose war on others. fight for a tenuous link to an ancestry you've never seen or studied." in a religious sense, sort of a key feature of judaism since the second exile is that - we're in exile. this is an orthodox argument, but i have to admit that rabbinical discourse is pretty convincing. the secular establishment of the israeli state in an attempt to accelerate any so-called redemption has left us at a point where i really don't know what hope we have for that to occur. if you believe in god, how can you believe they are looking down at us, impressed

because beyond theoretical or spiritual reasons, the bloodlust, the vengefulness, the racism, the violation of law (i know that laws are agreed upon, are broken all the time by those who grant themselves impunity), the evil of this continuance, the evil which grinds babies and text and memory, gnashes it all in its droning machinery, its cold horror and inhumane (unhuman) practice, seemingly perfected... it is obvious to anyone with a single thought that it is an ethnic cleansing. the forcible "movement" (murder) of people of one group from land people of another group want. is ethnic cleansing. we are watching it in real time, and the world stands by and in many cases, it endorses, it beats and imprisons those who are brave enough to stand up to it, it rewards cowardly men in war rooms who having read fukuyama and arendt and maybe even voegelin conveniently forget themselves, because they can afford to, and wave their hands and make calls and decimate entire families cities sovereignties. and liberalism - that fickle ideology whose sole search is for the justification of atrocity - sends its thoughts and prayers, and emphasizes how just horrible both sides are, and conveniently forgets the histories that have led each "side" to this. convenient.

and i can't do anything about it. i can perfectly articulate every well-thought-out argument, i can cry the most frustrated tears from the well of my chest and i can scream that this isn't right, because it isn't, but nobody fucking cares. those who matter have decided for those who don't.

if you align yourself with israel, or feel any sympathy toward the supposed plight of active settlers (not a neutral spot to be in, by the way - another rational argument), i hope you know how thoroughly you've been manipulated. how successful the project of those with the power to decide we don't matter has been. you and i don't matter. so-called free thinkers meme. you fucking idiot. you genocidal maniac.

not putting this under a cut. fuck you. read it all and remember my jewish name and keep it far out of your mouth the next time you tell someone why the people you've told me are my neighbors deserve a flattening.

[o-wyrmlight]

I haven't said anything on here because I've been so focused on what's been happening on Twitter. I spent six or more hours last night just retweeting whatever I could to help raise a ruckus. For anybody who isn't aware of what's been happening:

For the past 75 years, Israel has been doing exactly what the United States of America did to indigenous natives when we first began to claim the territory. They've been pushing Palestinians off of their homeland and claiming the land for themselves. They've been stealing homes and territory that doesn't belong to them, engaging in a quiet genocide.

They control what goes in an out of the border. They control how much food Palestinians are allowed to have access to. They control how much water and electricity Palestinians have access to in a day. They control how many times a year and how far out fishing boats are able to go, and they're relegated to areas where there are no fish. The amount of ships aren't enough to sustain the population. Israel has ensured that Palestinians cannot build bomb shelters by preventing those materials from coming into the country.

On October 7th, 2023, a Gazan organization named Hamas, which is stationed in the Palestinian city of Gaza, decided to retaliate. They did a plethora of horrible things to Israeli people, taking hostages. In response, Israel has begun being more aggressive and upfront in its genocidal attempts to eradicate Palestinians.

This is not an exaggeration. Israel is very upfront about what they want. The official Israeli account has posted what they've done proudly. The first event that made people outside of Palestine aware of what was going on was the bombing of a hospital that Israel boasted of, and then later walked back to claim it was a Hamas base.

There are rules of war to follow. Among them, it is a war crime to attack where people are taking shelter in places of religion and hospitals. Once this information was revealed and made obvious, public outcry for the support of Palestine began to ring out. Apparently it wasn't even the first hospital that Israel had targeted--there were over 10 at the time and more to come in the following days.

Consider that Israel knew they were targeting the hospital and sent out a warning for them to evacuate, and then remind yourself that there were people in the in the hospital who relied on the medical equipment to live. Where were they supposed to go on such short notice? Children and babies were killed. Israel admitted to doing this and then claimed that the hospital was a Hamas base. And soon after, they claimed that it was a misfired rocket by Hamas that hit the hospital. Isn't that so convenient?

Israel has warned a city to travel the road down south in ten hours--on foot, on a hiking trail that takes more than twelve--to reach safety. They promised they would be safe and that Gaza was the only place they were aiming to destroy. Instead, Israel proceeded to bomb and destroy the only safe passage that they were able to get. They weren't safe at all.

In the days to come, Israel would proceed to turn off all electricity and water in Palestine. They would continue to bomb various places under the presumption that they were Hamas bases. Hamas comes from the city of Gaza, so that doesn't explain why several of those places--even hospitals--were much farther south.

Yesterday, they bombed the communication tower that Palestinians have been relying on to communicate with the outside world. As far as I know, they've been dark ever since.

Egyptians have been trying to help. They've been trying to demand the gates to open so that they can send humanitarian aid in. There are people--good people--who don't care if they die for the cause or not. Hardly any humanitarian aid has been able to come in, and Israel has been teasing Egypt, their own weaponry poking at their boarder as a threat. If several missiles cross Egyptian boarders, how is it their fault of they were aiming at a hostile air craft?

Remember how much Israel monitored what comes in and what comes out of Palestine. They control how much electricity and water a day they have. They control their maritime and how far from the coast they're allowed to fish. Do you think that Palestinians are able to build such air crafts?

Egyptians have witnessed the horrors that have been happening from across the sea. The sky was red with fire and alight with bombs. The horizon echoed with the noise and the assault didn't cease. I don't know if it's still going on. I don't know if it ever stopped. But Israel is sending out ground troops now, and who knows how far that went since last night.

Israel calls this a war. Palestinians haven't been able to fight back. They don't have any weapons or a military of their own. Entire families have been wiped off of the face of the earth, numbering probably well over forty by this point. Entire generations are at risk of being killed. This isn't a war. This is a genocide.

Israel claims that Hamas hides behind its civilians for protection, but all Israel is doing is hiding behind Hamas as an excuse to commit ethnic cleansing.

The worst part to me is that world powers who could have done something to prevent this are actively doing nothing. The United States has been providing Israel with the very weapons that they're using to obliterate Palestine off of the face of the map. Britain has outlawed protests speaking up in support of Palestine. And there are a lot of protests. The public opinion knows that this is wrong. Joseph Biden has casted doubt on how many Palestinians have actually died just before the blackout occured.

The warning signs have been here for 75 years, and nobody has done anything about it. And now Palestinians are facing the most brutal evil that mankind is capable of, and nobody who can do anything about it is willing to lift a finger. What's the point of the United Nations to create laws of war that are to be followed if those laws aren't going to be enforced? What kind of message does that send to countries that violate those laws?

That they can get away with it.

This isn't even to touch on the fact that Israel has been paying content creators and companies to speak up in support of Israel. I wouldn't be surprised if they're doing the same with popular celebrities in the United States and elsewhere. I wouldn't be surprised if this is a part of why politicians are refusing to lift a finger to hold Israel accountable for their actions. Israel has always wanted control of the narrative. This isn't the first time, and it won't be the last.

I do want to point out that despite these horrors, it's important to remember that, while Israel has done these horrible things, you shouldn't blame the individual people. Not every single Israeli believes in this genocidal cause, but the system of government that encourages and rewards these behaviors should be held accountable. Israelis who disagree with Israel are very likely at risk of being punished severely if they express their beliefs. It's important to remember that.

Israel will cry antisemitism because they are a Jewish state: Holding them accountable for their actions is not antisemitism. Do not be afraid to do so. I have seen videos of Jewish people in the United States leading mass protests in support of Palestine, calling for a ceasefire in Gaza, for Palestine to be free. Don't blame all Jewish people or Israelites for this horror. Be angry at Israel the government, Israel the politicians, Israel the people who support them rabidly and celebrate the death of millions.

I know for a fact that there are some things I've missed. It's so difficult to tactfully cover everything that's happened over the past couple of weeks. But hopefully this is enough to let those who aren't aware of what's been happening know.

I'm ashamed to be a United States American. And I am angry at the politicians and the people in power who could have voted for a ceasefire and didn't. We are witnessing the evils of humanity at work this month. And yet we are also witnessing the selfless good that humanity is capable of, leading protests to free Palestine and call for a ceasefire, trying their best to raise attention to the people who did nothing. History will remember them as the villains of this story.

It feels like there isn't much you can do. But just knowing and spreading awareness of the situation is enough. It is enough. Israel has hired companies and social media to do their best to stifle talk and conversation about Palestine. YouTube has deleted fifteen years' worth of videos examining the Palestinian occupation and Palestinian culture as a whole. Israel wants Palestine to die in silence and be forgotten.

All you need to know is what is happening. All you need to know is to remember and not forget. All you need to know is acknowledge the Palestinian's generations-long suffering, know that we're living through a genocide, and see how world powers do nothing about it. This is how Adolf Hitler got away with it for so long.

So remember. Keep it in mind. Learn the warning signs. And be sure to remember this when it happens again.

Free Palestine.

[sflow-er]

It's Eurovision week, and for the first time in over twenty years, I won't be watching or engaging.

As you probably know, the global BDS (Boycott, Divest, Sanction) movement has called for a total Eurovision boycott due to the EBU's refusal to ban Israel.

The ESC has been a beloved part of my spring since I was little, and it's really fucking upsetting not getting to enjoy it this year - but that's just it. I know it won't make any difference whether one person chooses to watch or boycott, and that my watching it wouldn't even be registered as a view if I just watched the TV broadcast instead of the stream, but I can't imagine any set of circumstances in which I would enjoy it.

Back when the contest was held in Tel Aviv, I "bought myself a license to enjoy it" by donating to the UNRWA multiple times what I would've normally spent on voting, but no amount of donations would be enough to do that now. Not when every artist will be styled using the products of an Israeli beauty brand (Moroccanoil, a major ESC sponsor and likely a major player in why the EBU wouldn't even consider a ban), and when Israel itself has made its participation a political statement. The only reason their public broadcaster KAN agreed to change the lyrics of their entry, which originally referenced the Hamas attack and is still was called "October Rain" but has now been renamed "Hurricane", was this:

The president [of Israel] emphasised that at this time in particular, when those who hate us seek to push aside and boycott the state of Israel from every stage, Israel must sound its voice with pride and its head high and raise its flag in every world forum, especially this year. (The Guardian, 07 March)

Singer Eden Golan has also said that she believes her "participation is part of a very important mission for the country" and that she expects to begin her compulsory military service soon after the contest:

I still haven't enlisted in the army, and when I return from Eurovision, I'll report for my first call-up. In the first year as a returning resident, they don't call you, but that year passed and I was summoned – and my draft was postponed because of Eurovision. Doing army service is a mission, and I want to take the auditions to the military bands. (Israel Hayom, 22 April)

Yes, really. It's more likely she'll be some kind of PR ambassador for the Israeli army than be sent to Gaza with a gun, but still.

Many people are also upset about Palestinian flags being banned from the arena, and I'm not happy about it either, but I do think it's more or less understandable. The arena is a closed space, and any kind of altercation that might be sparked by those flags would be a big security risk. And at least if we are to believe executive supervisor Martin Österdahl, they haven't actually changed the rules; signs and flags with political messaging were always banned, and in this time, the Palestinian flag does send a powerful political message.

Then there's also the security risk associated with the event itself. Malmö is one of Sweden's most diverse cities, which also has both Jewish and Palestinian communities. According to a survey published on 4 May, 47% of city residents intend to avoid crowds during Eurovision. Mass protests and counter protests are expected. Events such as Quran-burnings by right-wing extremists are still allowed in the name of freedom of expression, even though the terror threat level in Sweden had to be raised to 4 out of the maximum 5 last year/this past winter due to precisely these kinds of provocations, and tensions will be running high. So even if the event itself manages to look as glitzy as always on TV, it will still be shadowed by what might be happening outside. Will there be unrest? Violence? How will the police respond?

There's no enjoyment to be found in any of that, no being "united by music" (the ESC slogan, which is a joke at this point). At least for me.

That being said, I do not judge you if you plan on watching. I understand that it's a huge annual tradition for many of us, and in these times, we need all the joy we can get. I also understand that it can feel like empty virtue signalling to boycott something when millions of others will tune in regardless - although it is good to keep in mind that this isn't some silly boycott started by social media activists on Xitter. It's a serious effort by the BDS movement.

I would challenge you to think about how you engage, though. If possible, watch it on TV instead of on stream, so your view won't be logged. (You could even consider waiting until the show gets posted on Youtube instead of giving views to the official stream, but I get that you probably want to see it live.) Try to abstain from hyping the contest or your fave entries on social media, and also from voting. Consider donating what you can afford to a charity that provides aid to Gaza instead (here's one list I found with a quick search).

And finally, spread awareness of the flip side. Don't be lulled into complacency by the claims of "Eurovision isn't political" when Israel itself has made it very clear it is - and do not make fun of people who want to sit the contest out this year or belittle their efforts.

[a-very-tired-jew]

Reaction to recent Shifa Operation

If you haven't heard by now, Israel conducted a raid on the Shifa hospital due to it being used (again) as a base for Hamas. I have not seen any reports regarding civilian casualties, but there are 40-50 combatants killed and another 180-200 captured. One of those killed was a senior Hamas official in charge of internal security and distribution of aid. We all know how well that is going (and if you don't, Hamas recently executed members of a Gaza clan that were distributing aid to civilians outside of Hamas's authority. Hamas keeps aid for itself and affiliates) However, one of the things I have seen go around the various activist groups I am in is that the IDF also arrested/detained the Al Jazeera crew that was stationed at the hospital. Now, we know AJ has been pumping out propaganda for Hamas for quite some time. They even write articles in English that will appeal to Westerners that say one thing and say something different in Arabic (again, this follows the 93 meeting rhetoric of using the Westerner's language to manipulate them and garner support). As such, I have suddenly seen a number of these spaces turn to Anadolu for their news.

That's right.

Anadolu.

The state sponsored news agency of Turkey.

You know, Turkey.

The country that has been ethnically cleansing the Kurds for years and continues to do so. But they're totally on the right side of things because they're against Jews Zionists. Now excuse me, but I'm going to roll my eyes so far back into my head I see my brain cause people insist it's about Zionism, ethnic cleansing, and other such things while allying with countries currently conducting such activities openly.