#and i know i’ll get over them eventually

[johnbrand]

New Favorite Brew

With @misctf, continuing their Gridiron Brew series

“David, c’mon we’re gonna be late for yoga!”

Matty shouted, grabbing his mat as he launched himself out of his room. He knew that the pair should not have gotten drunk last night. You could not squeeze that many drinks into twinks skinnier than rails! Matty had stopped while he was ahead–although not super far ahead as he was still a bit hungover–but David had gone hard. He had even pounded back a beer that he had gotten from the liquor store for free before they had arrived at Matty's apartment. They had exclusively drank hard seltzers since graduating a year ago, so when the cashier handed them the beer as a part of a promotion, they laughed. 

But now rushing towards the door, Matty knew they would be doing anything but laughing if they missed this yoga class. They had spent a fortune on securing their spots months ago.

“Ready to go, David?”

“What's goin' on, bro?”

Matty stood in shock for a moment at the naked man on his couch. The brute was large, hairy, and old–probably twice the size, girth, and maturity of Matty. This uber-masculine mammoth of a creature was not at all what Matty had been expecting, causing him to audibly squeak.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, bro?” His voice was deep, resonant and gruff. “Oh yeah, sorry you know how I get when I go too far. Would always lose my clothes by the end of the party, just reliving the good old frat days I guess.”

“I…uh…” Matty stuttered, but quickly recovered himself. Dave was right, this always happened when he got too drunk. “I’ll see you later, I have to get to my yoga class.”

“Sure,” Dave yawned, not even bothering to cover himself as he cracked open another can of beer as his breakfast. “Good luck or whatever, bro!”

Matty left, his bewilderment rapidly evaporating into being simply unfazed. By the time he was in his car, the whole situation was already behind him. Matty’s class was the only thing on his mind. In moments, he had his Top Hits of the 2010s playlist blasting through his earbuds. He luckily made it on time to his class, and afterwards was exhausted. Ripping his sweat-soaked shirt off as soon as he was in his car, Matty took a moment to recover and laid back in his seat. When he opened his eyes again, he was surprised by the metallic glare hitting his eyes.

Twisting around, Matty was surprised to find a can of beer in his car. He presumed it had been misplaced from his and Dave’s shenanigans last night at the liquor store; Matty’s bag of seltzer’s and Dave’s bag of six-packs. The can in question must have slipped out. Curiously, Matty picked up the can, the aluminum exterior slightly warm from having sat in the sun. The label was not anything special, brown with an old-timey football player on the front. The words “Gridiron Brew” were somehow delivered in the most masculine and yet generic font possible.

Feeling a sudden thirst, and growing interest as to why Dave was so addicted to the stuff, Matty carefully cracked it open. He did not know what he expected, but that first sip of standard cheap beer tasted like…cheap beer. There was nothing remarkable, no mouthwatering trigger that made Matty instantly understand why Dave was so obsessed with the stuff. It was probably not fair that he was having it warm, but Matty-

BOOOOOUUUURRRPP!

Matty clasped a hand over his mouth as quickly as possible, his face flushing scarlet. But before the embarrassment had completely resided, his hand moved down to his stomach. His glistening abdominals were cramping up, tightening in on themselves violently underneath his touch. Through his bare skin, it almost felt to Matty as if they were vibrating.

“Oh god…” Matty groaned. Suddenly, the tightness Matty was feeling was softening. Underneath his finger tips, his stomach began to expand, pushing out a thin layer of fat over his abs. A second coat was applied on top of the first, and then a third onto the second, until eventually the bulge emerged over his waistband. And his tight pecs soon jutted out onto his muscle gut with both fat and muscle, their taut nature now loosened dramatically. Frantically, Matty read over the tagline of the beer, his arms and legs bulking up proportionally with his midsection. “Gridiron Brew is for the ex-jock in you!” 

“Nnnhh…broooo…!” Matty pleaded to the open space, his voice taking on a lower and rougher nature. An aggravating warmth began to swarm his already overheated body, testosterone surging as it caused hair to erupt across Matty’s frame. From his dense pubes sprang forth a current of hair tracing over every available inch of his body. Nothing was spared, and Matty could not decipher through his agony if the masculinity upgrade was something to be reviled or cherished.

Matty prayed for his distress to end, gripping his gut and the beer can as his face rounded out, widening before disappearing underneath a thick beard. Age lines and wrinkles carved onto Matty’s once-clean skin, which was quickly growing a bit leathery as his body rapidly aged. Eventually the pain began to fade, and Matty could do nothing beside inhaling and exhaling slowly. Eventually, he realized he had been subconsciously flexing his pecs.

It was a strange sensation, feeling the slabs of meat bounce up and down, but at the same time it was…calming? Matty could not describe it, having never done it before. But then why did it feel so familiar? Feeling his girth, relishing in his massive size. It had been something he had enjoyed since he had discovered it back in high school, right? But that felt like years ago. Was it years ago? Matt nodded slowly–it must have been. Yeah, back when they played good music like the stuff on his Top Hits of the 90s playlist. 

Matt tossed back another swig of his new favorite brew before starting the car. He continued to relish his past glory days, never to realize that moments before he had been living those cherished days, and that they were not mere memories of decades past.

[luveline]

for the fred x asf!reader, maybe something where one of his family members is like whispering about r or says something rude or backhanded and he sticks up for her? or if you don’t want to do his family, maybe a friend or something?

ty for requesting! fem, 1.7k

Sometimes you get so sick with everything that it makes you gag. It sounds insane, how can an illness that tires you force something like a gag? It might be more appropriate to attribute it to anxiety, but it’s overwhelming, whatever it is. You get this feeling like you’re totally lost in the middle of the day and all Fred can do is watch you as you scramble out of your seat for a bathroom. 

You haven’t actually thrown up yet. You stand bent over the bathroom sink in the burrow and breathe. Your gag had been loud —it wouldn’t surprise you if everybody here tonight had heard it. Fred stands just outside the door, the bathroom too small to force his way in while you still stand at the sink. 

“Lovely,” he says, without shame despite the tens of ears listening in, “can I come in?” 

The basin is made of yellow and orange tile, peculiar as the rest of the burrow. The mirror is framed by the same colours. You meet your own eyes and don’t have it in you to scowl. You aren’t angry at being sick. You aren’t sorry for yourself. You’re just tired. 

Fred says your name. 

You scoot into the very corner of the bathroom and begin opening the door for him. He’s in as soon as you allow him to be, shimmying between the door and the toilet to close it behind him again. He takes a breath of relief when he finds you unhurt, but his concern doesn’t waver. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

Sometimes you wish Fred didn’t have to see you at all. Like this, like that, ever. You wish he never met you, because you know he’s beautiful inside and out, and he has to witness you at your constant lows. “Fine.” 

“My mum’s making some peppermint tea, if you want some. It settles the stomach.” 

“Maybe.” 

“Is there something wrong?” 

Beyond the usual? No. Everything is the same. Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you’ll be in love with him forever without ever feeling enough, maybe he’ll keep looking at you like he is now, softly, the slightest air of defeat about him. There are wires crossed in your head you can’t fix, and he loves you, and sometimes it doesn’t make a bit of difference. 

“Hey,” he says, “it’s okay.” Fred holds your arm by the elbow.

“I know. I don’t know what…” 

Do you ever? 

Fred doesn’t catch onto your dark mood. “That’s enough for today. We’ll go home, okay? Let me just say goodbye to mum, you can say bye to George. Or do we…” 

“No. It’s okay, I’ll go and see him.” 

“Okay.” He kisses your cheek. 

Fred leaves first. By the time you’ve slipped between the toilet and the door back out into the hallway, he’s gone. Not even his scent lingers. You make your way back into the living room where you’d been before you started feeling sick, face angled down. 

“You alright?” Charlie asks. 

You raise your head to smile at him quickly. “I’m okay. Just not feeling well, sorry.” 

“Going home?” George asks. 

You bite your tongue and nod. George gathers your jumper where you’d shed it in a hot flush and quickly stands to be by your side. 

“Let me walk you down to the garden.” 

“Okay. Bye, Charlie. See you next week.” 

“Feel better!” Charlie calls as you go. 

You pull your jumper on and follow George out into the garden, where you meander. You’d say goodbye to Molly, only she’s so caring that it can make things worse. She’s more understanding of how you feel than you’d first expected, but she made boys like Fred and George, so it shouldn’t surprise you. 

“What’s that about? The being sick?” George asks eventually. 

“I wasn’t sick.” 

“No?” 

“No, it’s just kecking. I don’t really know what it is, honestly.” 

George looks like Fred, but they’re not as identical as people think. Very occasionally you’ll spot him across the shop and think it’s your boyfriend for a few nanoseconds, but you could never mistake them for one another in good lighting. When George offers a hug, it doesn’t feel like Fred’s touch. You know the difference. 

“Maybe it’s, like, a sign you need to chill out for a bit.” 

“I’m always chilled out. Nobody expects anything from me. I never do anything.” 

George pulls back with an arm still covering your shoulders, “Listen to the way you’re talking,” he says gently, “you need to be nice to yourself, even if it’s just until you feel better. You know? Something is clearly winding you up, and it doesn’t have to. You can tell me about it.” 

It’s something, but it’s something he knows already. You hold your arm to his, struggling to explain, to want to. You wish you could go back to saying nothing; it was easier to be quiet. 

George isn’t disappointed. He rubs your arm. “You can tell me whenever. Or not tell me. Don’t tell me anything, let’s just ditch Fred and go get cake.” 

“I can’t ditch Fred.” 

“Why?” 

“I like him.” 

“Ugh.” George puts his cheek to yours. “Whatever. You’ll pick the right twin eventually.” 

Shouting echoes from the house. You and George look up at the same time, startled, the light mood of your joking quickly tanked. “Is that Fred?” you ask. 

It’s definitely Fred. “I couldn’t care less what you think, Ronald, I’d be surprised if you could form intelligent thought–” 

“Fred!” Molly shouts, “Boys, please, there’s no need for all the shouting!” 

“If I were you I’d look at yourself carefully the next time you're tempted to open your fat gob–”

George laughs beside you. “Jesus, what’s Ron said?” 

“I have no idea.” The twins argue with Ron every time they see him, so it could be anything. “Maybe he’s harping on Fred to cut his hair again.” 

“Well, he should.” 

“No way.” You picture your lovely boyfriend with short, short hair as everyone wants him to have and cringe. “No, thank you.” 

“Just don’t talk about her, Ron! It’s really quite simple, even a half-wit like you could understand it if you tried, don’t even think about her–”

Your chest falls as you realise what it is that’s making all the fuss. At Fred’s shout, there’s an upheaval of sounds, Ron’s yelling, Molly’s, and Arthur’s quieter pleading for everybody to calm down. Fred says something you can’t hear, and then the door out into the garden is opening, and Fred huffs a breath as he makes his way down the path. 

“Hey,” he says, forcing a smile when he sees you and George. “Ready to go?” 

“What happened?” you ask. 

“It’s nothing. Ron being Ron.” 

“Did he say something?” 

Fred looks between you and George with a frown. “He’s hardly capable of stringing four words together. But yes, he said something.” His frown deepens. “He’s just being a dick. It doesn’t matter.” 

“Was it about me?” 

Fred squints at you. “Could you be less perceptive?” 

“No.” 

He visually debates telling you what’s been said. George grabs your shoulder, half a hug as he says, “I can invoke a divine punishment.” 

“It was nothing cruel, ghost.” Fred sighs. “He asked me why you act like that, and I– He doesn’t get it, okay? But that doesn’t mean you act wrong.” 

“I see,” you say. 

Fred watches your face. His own turns to heartbreak. “Listen, I’ll go back in there. I’ll kill him.” 

“No, you won’t.” 

“Of course I will.” Fred ducks his head a little to see you where you’ve shied away. “I will kill him.” 

George snorts. “Me first. He’s such a fucking dolt of a boy.” 

“No, it’s okay, I know I’m weird–”

“I’ll kill him–”

“Fred,” you interrupt. You take a moment to formulate what you’re saying, because it’s important, and because you constantly toe the same line, “I am weird. He doesn’t have to pretend I wasn’t just almost sick in the living room for no real reason–”

“It’s not about pretending, it’s that he thinks you do it on purpose.” Fred speaks with such severity that you immediately close your mouth. “I’ve seen you struggle for so long, it’s painful, ghost, and it’s worse for you, I know it is, and the insinuation that you’re choosing–”

“Fred,” you say, putting your hand to his chest. “It’s okay.” 

“Well, it isn’t,” George says, “but yeah, it’s okay. I’m gonna make slugs come out of his nose.” 

George kisses your cheek, a smacking joking thing that you bat away before he jogs back up the path to the house. Fred looks down at your hand on his chest, still frowning, but with a slowly relaxing brow. 

“You can’t blame people for not getting it,” you say. 

“Yes, I can.” 

“You can’t.” 

“Yes, I can. You are difficult to understand sometimes, lovely, but being difficult to understand does not mean you’re difficult to care about. Ron’s total lack of empathy is ridiculous. He should be better than that.” 

“He just doesn’t get it,” you say, raising a hand to his chin to turn his head, and lifting your chin to kiss his cheek primly. “But I don’t need him to. Just need you.” 

He grabs you in a hug before you can move away, his face pressed against yours. “How do you feel now?” he asks quietly. “Still poorly?” 

“Yeah, a bit. George told me I need to chill out.” 

“You do. That’s what we’re going home to do.”

Fred is so careful with you that it sort of hurts. Like, to have someone stand in front of you and to hold you without a second thought, to have never let you down, to grab you at the first sign of weakness and hold you together. You will never, ever feel like you deserve him. Maybe you don’t. But Fred doesn’t work on deserving, he just loves, lips soft on your temple as his hand scrunched into your side. “Don’t worry,” he says gently, fingers curling in and out against you, almost like a loving scratch, “you’ll feel better soon.” 

[pitviperofdoom]

High School Time Travelers, Part 2

It's finally here! Follow up to this story.

***

“So. Spill. What the fuck is going on with you and Angelique?”

Raph fidgeted uncomfortably, and something within Erin roared out in protest at that. They were in her room, surrounded by her clutter and band posters and the stuff he kept at her house to keep his mom from throwing it away. He wasn’t supposed to be uncomfortable here.

Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I time-traveled last night.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I,” he said wearily. “I woke up in a house I haven’t set foot in for years, across the hall from someone I promised myself I’d never talk to again. It happened, and if you’re stuck on that part then this conversation can’t continue.”

Erin got up and paced her room, kicking aside her backpack, nearly knocking over the guitar stand in the corner. “What the fuck.”

“That’s what I said.”

“What the fuck, Raph.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

The absurdity hit her instantly—he didn’t mean to time travel, as if they were talking about him forgetting his homework or getting in Monica Dillon’s way during passing period. She wanted to laugh.

But then she remembered some of the weird things Angelique had said—about friendships imploding, about college, about shit not mattering in high school, all with the easy certainty of experience.

“Prove it,” she said. “Can you do that thing where you predict what I’m about to say?”

“I’m not stuck in a time loop, dumbass, yesterday I was thirty-three!” Raph snapped. “I had to go through math class trying to pretend I still remembered my teacher’s name!”

“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Erin held up her hands placatingly. “There’s gotta be something.”

Raph sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I dunno. Anything meaningful and unchangeable I can remember won’t happen for a while, so if you’re willing to wait for the Trump presidency or the global pandemic, there’s that.”

“The what.”

“Wait, who’s president right now? It’s still Bush, right?”

Erin pulled a face.

“Next one’s Barack Obama, he’s gonna do two terms,” Raph informed her. “First black president.”

“Oh, huh. Cool,” Erin said faintly.

“Let’s see, what else, um… Balloon Boy? Has Balloon Boy happened yet?”

“No, what the fuck is Balloon Boy?”

Raph brightened. “Yeah, so at some point this family is gonna release like, a homemade weather balloon? Or something? And there’s gonna be this huge panic because they think their son is stuck inside it, but then it turns out he was fine and hiding in the basement the whole time and it was a hoax.”

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for that I guess?” Erin sat down again. “You’re seriously not fucking with me right now?”

“I mean, if you want, we could forget this conversation ever happened,” Raph offered. “Continue with our normal lives, while I keep under-reacting to devastating world events.”

“Christ, I don’t know.” Erin pressed her palms into her eyes. After a moment, she lifted her head again. “Wait a minute, we’re getting off track. What does this have to do with Angelique?”

Raph’s silence could not have been louder.

“Raph,” Erin said, a little desperately.

“First you have to promise you won’t be mad,” said Raph.

“Did you sleep with her in the—” Erin paused to do some arithmetic in her head. “—eighteen years between then and now?!”

“She’s my wife,” Raph blurted out.

Moments later, Erin’s mother knocked politely on the bedroom door. “Everything okay in there?” she asked. “That’s an awful lot of screaming for a Tuesday night.”

Erin continued howling into her pillow. “She’s fine, Mrs. Yokota!” Raph called. “We’re looking at—uh—creepypastas!”

“Creepy what?”

“Uh—crap, are they still called that?—like, ghost stories and stuff!”

Placated, she left them to it. Eventually Erin recovered enough to lie back and stare listlessly at the ceiling.

“Dude.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What the fuck is your life?” Erin demanded. “How did that even happen?”

“We ran into each other at—so my friend Hazel got roped into being in their college roommate’s bridal party and dragged me along for moral support, and Angelique was in the same friend group but with like six degrees of separation from us,” Raph explained. “It took half the reception for her to recognize me because at that point I’d been on T for a few years, but the second she realized we went to the same high school she turned fishbelly-white, pulled me aside, and apologized for how much of a bitch she was back then. It was really awkward.”

Back then, he called it, even though for Erin it was still right now. “And you married her?”

“Like eight years later, yeah.” Raph ran his hand through his hair, not quite hiding the small smile that stole over his face. “She really turned over a new leaf.”

Erin was silent for a while, mulling over this new information, combining it with what she already had from that afternoon.

“Is your name still Raphael?” she asked. “She sounded really surprised about it. And I know you said you were just taking the name on a trial run, but you really seemed to like it. Not that there’s—you know,” she added. “I know that—just because I picked it, I knew you might not… you know. It’s fine, I was just wondering. If I should call you something else.”

“I did—I do like it,” Raph assured her. “But, uh, some stuff happened. My dad found me.”

Erin’s eyebrows shot upward. “Wait, really? What’d he have to say for himself?”

“That Mom ghosted him when she got pregnant because her side guy had more money.”

“Dude, fuck your mom.”

“Don’t fuck my mom, she’ll ghost you for money, weren’t you listening?”

Erin burst out snickering. “Fuck, sorry, this isn’t funny.”

“It will be in eighteen years,” Raph said with a wry smile. “Hindsight. Anyway, he found me in—he’s gonna find me in two years unless I reach out first. He’s a good guy. My stepmom’s pretty cool, too. And I have sisters? So that’s awesome. And yeah, he had this friend who passed away when he was younger, and he always wanted to name his son after him, but then Mom disappeared and he only ended up having daughters, so when he found me, it kind of worked out.” He hesitated. “I’m Damian. Damian Raphael Harker.”

“That’s such a cool name,” Erin sighed.

Raph—Damian—tilted his head back to grin at her. “Yours is cool, too.”

“Shut up,” she said fondly.

“No, seriously,” he said emphatically. “Your name is unspeakably cool.”

There was something odd in his tone, sticking up and catching like a loose nail. It bothered her, the same way something Angelique said earlier had bothered her.

“Hey, Ra—Damian?” Erin said cautiously. “Earlier, when Angelique sat down with us, she didn’t recognize me.”

“She does, don’t worry.”

“No, she didn’t,” Erin pressed. “It took her a second to realize who I was, and she stopped herself from saying why.”

Suddenly Damian looked deeply uncomfortable. “I, uh.”

She took a deep breath. “Was I dead in your time?”

“Wh-no! No no no no, of course not!” Damian looked horrified. “We played Pathfinder like last week, you’re not dead.”

“What’s Path—no, never mind. Something’s clearly up. If we just played whatever-that-is last week, and Angelique is your wife, then why didn’t she know who I was?”

“Uh…” Damian’s hands had worked their way deep into his sleeves. “You look different, that’s all. You kind of reinvented yourself in college.”

“Oh,” Erin said, momentarily relieved. Then— “Wait.”

“What?’

“Damian. You’d—” She hesitated. “If I was a guy, you’d tell me, right?’

“Oh my God,” Damian mumbled into his be-sweatered hands.

“Damian.”

“You’re... not...”

“You’d tell me, right?”

“See, I don’t know if I would!” Damian answered, in a strained high-pitched tone. “That’s—look. If you were a guy, that’s something you’d have to work out for yourself!”

“Damian, I swear to God.”

“I can’t crack your egg for you, that’s like violating the Prime Directive!”

Erin seized a pillow and started to buffet him with it. “You are such a nerd!”

“It’s your personal journey, you can’t use me to cheat!” Damian cackled, fending her off with a plush horse.

***

“Yeah I’ll get the banana split.” Angie bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes raking over the array of toppings. “Can you put caramel and chocolate sauce on it? And Heath bar pieces, chopped strawberries, and M&Ms.”

“Yeah, sure thing.”

It took all of her self-control not to press her nose against the glass as she watched them make it. Some small part of her balked at the sight of three huge scoops of ice cream and all the toppings, but she quieted it. She had a second shot at being a teenager, and that meant never taking her garbage disposal stomach and body made of rubber bands for granted ever again.

She hummed absently to herself, only to pause halfway through the tune. How did it go again? She tried repeating the first half, only to get stuck at the same spot. Oh, this was going to bug the crap out of her. It wasn’t like she could look it up, not when the song wouldn’t come out for almost ten years—

Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she checked it absentmindedly, zeroing in for a moment on the DAD displayed on the screen. After a moment, she put it back without answering. If it was that important, he could text.

Sure enough, her phone gave a short buzz. New text message—he hadn’t even bothered to leave a voicemail.

DADI need you to talk to your brother.

Angie checked her banana split’s progress with a glance, and replied.

lol why

DADHe’s not listening to me. We both know the courts favor the mother so if we’re going to beat her I need both of you on your A game.

Angie ground her teeth until her jaw creaked.

what do you need me to do

DADJust coach him on how to talk about her. You’re a smart lady, I know you can do it. He’s always getting scuffed up at practice, just have him say the bruises came from her. Throw in a drinking problem if you have to, just keep your stories straight.

why father dearest i’m surprised at youyou want me to lie under oath?

DADJust talk to him, will you? Keep your stories straight, don’t get too outlandish, and we’ll get out of this with everything we want. You’ll never have to hear the word no again, I promise.

ok daddy ill do my best!

DADGood girl. You’re the smartest girl I know. Smarter than your mom, smarter than her bitch lawyer. Love you!

“Order up!”

Angie brought her banana split to the table with the clearest view of the door. It took her a moment to decide how to begin, then nearly a full minute balancing equal parts ice cream, banana, and toppings in a single spoonful. She managed it in the end.

Mood lifted, she unlocked her phone again and made a call. “Heeeey, Anika.”

“Need I remind you that phone calls are billable,” her mother’s lawyer said dryly.

“Yeah, I’ll be quick, I have some incriminating text messages I think you’ll be interested in?”

The sound of rustling papers paused. “Go on…?”

“Dad just told me to lie to the judge,” Angie explained, twirling a thin ribbon of caramel around her spoon. “And to coach Eric to lie to the judge. I took screenshots.”

Anika cursed softly under her breath. “Thank you for telling me. Send them to your mom, okay? Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

The bell above the ice cream parlor door jingled, and Angie perked up as both Damian (Raph?) and Erin walked in. She waved them over, grinning when both pairs of eyes widened at her treat.

“That thing’s half the size of your head,” Erin pointed out.

“Sure is, you guys came just in time.” Angie nudged it across the table, along with the two extra spoons. “If we split it, I’ll have enough room for a milkshake chaser.”

“You’re a monster,” Damian said delightedly. “Oh shit, are those Heath bars?” He dug in without waiting for an answer.

“They’re peanut butter cups,” she said solemnly, once he’d taken a bite and could probably tell they weren’t. “I added them just to hurt you.” Damian rolled his eyes and dug his spoon back in.

Erin stared at her, probably still baffled by the gentle banter, but at least she looked more curious than infuriated, like instead of being suspicious she simply didn’t know what to make of Angie.

“So, you guys talked?” Angie asked carefully. “Are we… all good?”

“I think so,” Damian replied, shooting a cautious glance at Erin.

“You’re on thin ice,” Erin informed her as she helped herself to the chocolate scoop.

“Fair.” Angie didn’t remember Erin putting up quite as much of a fight, but then, it had been years when they’d reconnected before. This time around, it was still fresh.

“The ice cream helps,” Erin added, slightly muffled by the spoon in her mouth.

“Noted.” Angie paused, weighed her options, and shrugged. No harm no foul, probably. “Hey, you’re a musician, right?”

Erin swallowed. “Yeah, why?”

“And not just a performer, but you write music too, right?”

“Yeeaaah?” Erin squinted suspiciously. Beside her, Damian shot Angie a warning glare.

“If I give you half a tune, could you resolve it?”

Erin was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “Probably.”

“Great!” Angie hummed the earworm from earlier. “How would the next part go?”

Erin repeated it to herself, nodding along. After a moment, she said, “Probably like—”

And sure enough, there it was. The rest of the chorus’s tune came rushing back to Angie’s memory, and she breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks! That was driving me nuts.” Angie returned to her banana split, ignoring Damian’s growing scowl.

Later, when Erin was in the bathroom and  Angelique was standing in line to order her promised milkshake, Damian dug his elbow into her side. “You’re not as slick as you think you are,” he muttered.

“What?” Angie said innocently. “I didn’t give anything away.”

“You just taught her half the chorus of a song she’s eight years away from writing!”

“I’ve planted a seed,” Angie insisted. “I’ve created a stable time loop.”

“That is not what you did and you know it.” Damian pursed his lips, clearly trying to stay annoyed with her. “I barely avoided spoiling her transition, and that’s after she asked me to my face.”

Angie grinned. “So you haven’t told her she’s a genderfluid punk rocker yet?”

“No. Because she’s not a genderfluid punk rocker yet.”

“And now, when she becomes one,” Angie said with a smile, “she’s going to look back on this day and laugh.”

[itsabouttimex2]

I hope this isn't an odd question

But, do you think Wukong or Macaque would act or treat different their "cub" if they genders were swapped or being a female version? This is also for a Yan behavior

I don't know too much about how is the raising of a monkey from the father and mother so I was curious with this since they're both mystical demons

I was thinking about this when I saw some fanarts from the artist @/car_nimbus on Twitter, they made a neat versions of the characters with another gender

Monkey Mama

(Hmm okay let me build a hypothetical OG “Female Monkey King” to work off of here and then I’ll try to translate that into LMK’s SWK. Also, I’ll probably make a second variation of this afterwards with other characters, haha. This got a little long to do both SWK and Mac!)

Sun Wukong as a character is already heavily defined by rebellion and personal choice, so I think that making him a girl only really compounds that layer of his character.

In many older narratives, female characters are often expected to be more obedient or modest than men, and very frequently only exist as prizes or, more rarely, villains. A female Sun Wukong; assuming she plays the same role as her original incarnation, defies the expectations of how “traditional” women should behave, shirking the demure and passive “ideal” and adding another layer of rebellion to her character.

(JTTW is actually pretty great in terms of female representation, with characters ranging from the perpetually good Quanyin, the eventually repentant Princess Iron Fan, and the straight up evil White Bone Spirit. I’m a big fan of how the women aren’t slid into any one “role” throughout the story.)

I think: in story, she’d likely be viewed as a sort of “anomaly”—a woman too strong, too outspoken, and too unwilling to conform to typical feminine ideals. Her defiance and arrogance might be viewed as even more scandalous by the Celestial Realm.

Instead of being made a “stable-keeper”, I think probably she’s sent to whatever Heavenly Scullery exists in that divine realm, and put to work very quickly. She would treat this “job” with indifference or even amusement at first-after all, physical labor or menial tasks don't diminish her self-worth or confidence! She’s had a life of hard work, leading an army of Yaoguai, cultivating Flower Fruit Mountain,

So she’s fine with this… at first. Then it turns out that the food she makes with her fellow low-class workers isn’t distributed amongst the people making it, but plated up nice and pretty for a bunch of “stuffy old gods” who didn’t lift a finger! Bullshit!

So obviously, the prideful Monkey Queen goes on a destructive rampage in regards to the unfair disparity of treatment, then storms back down to Earth to throw a “feel-better” party with her fellow Yaogaui.

(Which isn’t just a party, but a symbolic reclaiming of joy and community, with her monkey tribe representing the freedom she craves and the earthly bonds she prefers over heavenly authority. It's not just an escape, but a statement of independence.)

After an extensive set of repairs, the Court sends down someone to drag her back, because, you know, the local super-powered monkey is back on the loose, and that’s not exactly great for them. This time, they offer her a “better” role- she gets to become an official Peach Maiden, lucky her!

Of course, it’s just another form of entrapment, but within a prettier cage. Even though she's given a cushier position, it's a veneer- she's still being silenced, controlled, and stripped of her freedom. The role played by a Peach Maiden is an inversion of Wukong's essence, as these women are happily serving the role of passive caretakers, nurturing with gentle smiles—a direct contrast to the free-willed, brash nature of the Monkey Queen.

(And while there’s nothing wrong with being demure, passive, and feminine, having people try to force her into that role is where Sun Wukong draws her line.)

Here, she is expected to watch in silence as others revel in the freedom and power denied to her. It's a different kind of prison, one that quietly erodes her spirit. When the Celestial Court tries to reintegrate her as a Peach Maiden, they are once again attempting to place her into a docile, decorative role, one that strips away her power and independence. Those immortal peach orchards, a symbol of immortality and divine favor, becomes a prison for her.

Surrounded by "ideal" women who embody the quiet, submissive role she despises, the Monkey Queen finds herself chafing under the pressure of conformity. Her energy, once boundless and chaotic, is now caged, and the simmering resentment builds.

The buildup to her inevitable rebellion after being made a Peach Maiden, then, becomes a very sympathetic moment because it's not just a rejection of the role forced on her, but a rejection of the very system that tries to diminish who she is at her core. Her rebellion isn’t about anger and shame- it’s about reclaiming her true self after having been suffocated by the expectations of the Celestial Court. Her rampage becomes an assertion of her identity as something that can't be confined by heavenly rules or social mores.

The Court, in its attempt to “contain" her, only fuels her defiance further, leading her once again to rebel.

It was never going to end well. But it ends all the same, and punishment is to be levied to the Queen, just the same as any other rebellious rule-breaker... actually, probably harsher.

There’s “you broke our rules and tried to lead a coup”, then there’s “you did all that, and we also find your very person to be wrong on a fundamental level”, and then she gets the book thrown at her twice over.

But! Then she meets Tang Sanzang, who sees something in her that neither the Celestial Realm nor her own band of Sworn Brothers saw. Not a heretic simian savaging a holy realm. Not a Queen to rally behind for their own gain.

But a lost soul in need of guidance.

And from there the Great Monk works on building Sun Wukong up as a person instead of leading her astray or trying to cut massive chunks of her personality out? And talks to her about the things she cares about? And teaches her about all the things she missed after spending five hundred years under a rock?

And then she meets Zhu Baije, who starts out a little too happy and carefree about having a beautiful woman around, but eventually comes to smash open heads when Wukong is disrespected, because that’s not just a hot woman, that’s his sister?

Or Sha Wujing, who helps her with even the smallest things, from trimming her claws to cutting her wild hair to preparing meals for the monk? And lets her perch on his shoulders and head so the queen can get some skinship in?

Then Ao Lie, who is every bit the “disappointment to the world at large” that she was considered? And they take turns braiding each other’s hair and wiping the mess from the other’s face, and sleeping in the same tent and same bedroom because it’s less effort?

She gets a dad and three little brothers?

She gets a family.

And then loses it and is alone again for several hundred years more.

So if we go with this theoretical “My natural existence has been rejected for being seen as ‘improper’ by a court of stuffy traditional assholes” and then “I dearly love/miss my dead found family” angle, I think she’d be portrayed as a very different sort of character in LMK.

She’s quicker to lash out and defend herself, and much less willing to sit around and let the world pass her by- because that’s what was demanded of her by the Celestial Realm.

Be good. Be quiet. Be demure. Be obedient. Be anything except you.

I don’t think she’d be as willing to “rest on her laurels” as her canon counterpart, given that a “quiet boring life” was what she had fought so very hard to escape in the first place, so instead of isolating herself from the world in the first place, she probably sets up a little “souvenir shop” at the foot of Flower Fruit Mountain, taking a human form to sell little knick-knacks that herald to the journey she undertook with her old friends.

In part, this is how Wukong works to honor them. To spread their legacy. To ensure that they aren’t forgotten, left as a footnote in the annals of history. To remember them.

In part, it’s how she justifies all the mistakes she’s made and the suffering she’s been through. Settling in to a pointlessly relaxed life is exactly what she fought against, after all. She’s heavily fallen into the “sunk-cost fallacy”, where giving up and settling in, to her, means “losing”. It means “everything I went through was all for nothing”. So she keeps at this little store instead of just retiring and isolating herself from the world, even though she’d be happier to ditch it and lounge about.

So when MK and his eccentric bunch of friends comes around with their boundless energy and mischief, she immediately goes, “Oh, okay! This is what I wanted!”

(It’s not. All she’s ever wanted is her friends back. How could there be anything else?)

The Monkie Kids are vibrant, eccentric, and full of qualities that immediately resonate with Wukong. They remind her of the energy, camaraderie, and sense of adventure that she once shared with her old companions. She sees MK's arrival not just as a chance to teach someone a few of her old tricks, but as an echo of her own life—a life she hasn't been able to truly let go of.

So she starts projecting- on the surface, MK is very much like her. He's spirited, good-natured, and curious- and reckless. Just like she was. Wukong latches onto this quickly, sort of using the kid as a proxy for herself. After all, if she can't go back to her old life, why not embrace a new one that feels close enough? In some ways, this marks her refusal to accept the passage of time, a desperate clinging to the hope that, through MK, she can rekindle the connections she once cherished.

However, underneath that initial enthusiasm is the repressed understanding that MK, despite his similarities to her younger self, cannot truly replace what she lost. The friends she fought beside, the battles they waged together, and the lessons they learned are unique, irreplaceable moments in her life. No matter how much MK’s gang reminds her of the past, he and his friends a stand-in for the companions she still longs for. But her deep desire to reconnect with her old friends clouds her ability to see MK for who he truly is: his own person, on his own journey.

It takes her a while to get to that point, though. So she’s more doting and affectionate, in a way that somewhat stifles her student’s training because she wants to be both her old carefree self and also a good mentor, and the two just get jumbled.

Sidenote: I think with the difference in actions and behavior, MK would be more open to viewing Fem!Wukong as a parental figure than the OG, especially since he doesn’t really have someone to fulfill that “mom” role.

For their dynamic, I think something like this would be the outcome:

———————————————————————-

The afternoon sun hangs low in the sky, painting the landscape in hues of varied orange and blue. With a tired hand, MK wipes the sweat from his brow.

He’s perched on one of the rocky spires dotting Flower Fruit Mountain, gazing at the view with a small smile of accomplishment. Training had been intense lately… if only because he had been doubling down on the time he spent practicing, without giving as much care to rest or aftercare.

After all, even though his powers were blooming steadily… his enemies also were growing in power and quantity, leading to the ever-creeping edge of fear that anything less than a constant one-hundred percent just wouldn’t be “enough”.

And right as he reaches back to grab the golden staff he has inherited from the Monkey Queen-

“MK! I told you to take a break, not run off to do more training!”

Her voice, uncharacteristically sharp, cuts through the formerly tranquil air, causing MK to jump. He turns just in time to see Sun Wukong strolling toward him, her hands on her hips and a look of mock annoyance on her face.

MK grinned sheepishly, shifting his grass-stained boots against the dirt. “I was just, you know… checking out the view.”

She raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement as her eyes narrowed in annoyance. This kid... “Uh-huh. Checking out the view or sneaking in some practice when I wasn’t looking?”

Caught fast in his lie, MK rubbed the back of his neck, face scrunching up in embarrassment. “Maybe a little of both?”

In spite of herself, Sun Wukong quietly laughs, the sound echoing like a chiming bell through the mountain. Her long, golden hair flowed behind her in the wind, each strand catching the light like molten fire. Despite her legendary status- the rebellious warrior who’d fought the heavens and nearly won!- there was a warmth to her that MK had come to cherish.

“All work and no play, MK,” she said, sitting beside him on the rock and ruffling his hair with a fondness that always made him feel like a little kid again. “You’ll burn out before you get anywhere.”

He looked at her, eyes shining with admiration. “But you never stop training. You’ve been at this for centuries! I just…”

A pause, as his chest turns over, unsettled by the notion of opening up. But… it’s the Monkey Queen. So it.. should be okay, right?

“I want to make you proud.”

Sun Wukong’s expression softens, and she wraps an arm around his shoulders, pulling the boy close in a tight embrace. “You already make me proud, kid. You don’t have to prove anything.”

MK leaned into the touch, feeling a wave of comfort wash over him. Even from the start she’d been like this with him- protective, nurturing… and maybe a bit overbearing at times. But he didn’t mind. It made him feel safe, like no matter what challenges lay ahead, he wasn’t alone.

MK chuckled, turning his face up to meet his idol’s eyes.” I’ll keep up,” he triumphantly declares, pumping a fist.” I promise.”

“Good.” Wukong shifted, her clawed hand lightly missing his spiked locks. “Now, how about we head back to the shop and grab something to eat? You’ve earned it.”

MK’s stomach growled at the mention of food, and he nodded so eagerly that she wondered if his head wouldn’t ache from the motion. “You know, I won’t say no to a good meal.”

The Monkey Queen stood up, dusting off her mentee’s clothes before offering him a hand. “Of course you won’t. C’mon, my treat.”

———————————————————————-

Now, to answer your question about how she acts in regards to her own cub… in general I think she’s much more doting than the OG, willing to express herself through constant displays of physical affection, in ways that are far more varied.

Constant forehead smooching, cuddles, grooming sessions, all of it! Mama Wukong never wants to let go of her baby! Sit down and let her paint your nails! Let her comb and braid your hair! Let her make you a nice lunch (loaded with mystical drugs to keep you nice and sleepy for extra cuddles), or at least a filling snack! Let her pepper your face with kisses as she spins you in her powerful arms!

Lots and lots of indulgent fluffy days of binging unhealthy foods and watching cozy reruns of old shows, your head in her lap as she hums and does up your hair with her lazy hands.

Lots of reminiscing about old suitors as she considers the quietest and quickest ways to kill anyone who makes the futile attempt to pursue you in the same way.

Despite her obsessive behavior, Wukong struggles with conflicting feelings about wanting her child to be strong and independent, just like her! She pushes you to train hard and become powerful, but when you inevitably seek their own freedom or autonomy, she’d experience a mix of pride and heartbreak, pushing her deeper into possessive tendencies.

If you ever tried to leave or even just start to break away, Wukong’s worst traits would bubble up like hellfire. Just as she fought against an entire realm’s authority, she would absolutely wage a war to keep her child close, all while justifying her actions as love.

The Monkey Queen is also more willing to take routes outside of brute force if it means securing extra protection for Y/N. If Macaque or maybe Azure (or someone else like Erlang Shen) wants to try and play “suitor”, well, she’s not too interested… until the thought arises that having him around makes you extra safe! And then she’s willing to think on it.

(That’s assuming that you aren’t one of their biological kids to begin with, in which case there might be a sort of “yandere triangle”. Azure/Macaque/Erlang Shen doing his damndest to reclaim his wife, before he learns that she’s had a child while he was gone... or maybe Pigsy and Tang decided that MK needs his mentor in a more ‘accessible’ position, and plot to drag her to Megapolis…)

Lots of potential monkey mama shenanigans, basically!

[luizd3ad]

First Home | Poly!Moonwaterkiller x GN!Reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ࣪˖⤷ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ࣪ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ˖ ⤷

Pairing: Remus Lupin X Regulus Black X Barty Crouch Jr x GN Reader WC: 1,094 CW: Poly Relationship, Anxiety, talks of Remus being in pain Author's Note: Heyyyy so like I know I haven’t been here for a while but I’m hoping I’ll be getting back into this😌🖤 Summary: Remus nervous about his first full moon in the new house

. ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆₊☽ ◯ ☾. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° .

Remus was pretty happy with his life at this point. 

He had great friends, a promising career and the most perfect and loving partners he could ask for.

But that didn't change the fact that for one night a month he absolutely loathed his life. 

He hated the moon almost as much as he hated himself during the moon.

Though over the years he had learned to accept what he was significantly more than he used to. 

He had learned to tolerate it. To live with it.

But that didn’t mean it didn't scare the absolute hell out of him most of the time. 

Especially when the conversation of moving in with his partners came into the loop. 

He was feeling beyond apprehensive about the idea of it all. 

It wasn't because he didn't love his partners, quite the opposite actually. It was because he loved them so much that the thought of accidentally hurting them or cursing them with the same fate as himself or… worse…  would often send him into a spiral of anxiety, overthinking and self loathing.

But eventually after months of reassurance -and Barty pouting- Remus caved and agreed that the four of you should finally move in together.

So after weeks of searching for a home -which according to you and Barty felt like it was taking ‘fucking forever’- you finally found your perfect home and moved in as soon as possible. 

That was a few weeks ago now and last night was the first full moon in the new house. 

Yesterday before nightfall Remus was beyond terrified. 

His mind had been clouded with overthinking and the absolute worst scenarios his brain could manage all day.

So when he woke up still in the basement that he and your entire friend group had spent countless hours reinforcing and charming -to Remus’s standards and preferences of course- he was so grateful. 

So grateful in fact that he was able to be distracted by the pain in his body a few moments longer than normal.

But eventually the pain consumed his body like it normally did.

For what could have been a few minutes or a few hours -Remus wasn't really sure- he just laid there looking up at the ceiling of the basement basking in the pain that ran through his body and his normal post full moon self loathing. Just completely lost in his own mind that was until he was pulled out by the sound of your voice.

“Moons? Are you awake?”

The sound of your voice had involuntarily brought a smile to Remus’s face and sent a wave of calm and comfort over him.

“Yea I’m awake love.” Remus groaned while sitting up feeling a few of his joints popping and his muscles tensing up.

It didn't take long for him to hear the sound of your footsteps coming down the stairs with a hot cup of coffee -that you meticulously made sure was exactly to his liking- and his favorite blanket in hand. 

Both things Remus had gladly and gratefully accepted.

“We made breakfast, if you're up for it.”

The sweet softens off your voice was slightly interrupted by Regulus chuckling.

“And of course by ‘we’ Y/N means they did the majority of the cooking since we all know I can't cook to save my life and we value our health enough to not want a repeat of when Barty tried to cook dinner for us the other week.”

Remus couldn't help but laugh a little, no matter how much it hurt, when he heard a very dramatic gasp from Barty.

“I'll have you know Black that I'm an excellent cook, you're just too much of a prick to appreciate such perfection.”

Remus continued to chuckle at the very familiar childish bickering happening between two of his lovers. 

He was actually enjoying the small distraction so much that he didn't notice when you sat next to him until he felt your shoulder brush against him.

“How are you feeling really, Remus?”

Remus couldn't help the small sigh that escaped his lips when he heard your words. “As good as to be expected love… I'm just grateful I didn’t get out and hurt one of you or worse...” 

You sighed softly and looked at Remus with a soft and loving look in your eyes. “Remus, I know you're worried but this bassment is a fortress. We'll be fine.”

Though you sounded so sure in your words Remus still wasn't fully convinced. 

His mind was already starting to spiral at this point with the possibilities and of the dangers that he imposed on the three most important people in his life.

Remus hadn't even realized he was now staring off into the black abyss of his coffee cup that was currently warming his hands till you placed your hand on top of his gaining his full attention.

When Remus’s eyes met yours he couldn't deny the love and honesty that he saw swimming in them which made your next words comfort him.

“We are fine. We will be fine. I know your anxiety won't go away but you need to remember that you have done everything in your power to ensure our safety and that's all you can do. Plus you know better than anyone that the three of us are very skilled with our magic so we are more than capable of taking care of ourselves. Not everything is on you Remus. We knew what we were signing up for when we asked for the four of us to move in together. We love you and everything will be fine I promise.”

Remus just sighed and nodded. 

A part of him honestly did feel better, he knew that he would never be a hundred percent comfortable for that one day a month but it made him feel better to know that you genuinely believed in your words and in him.

“Okay, I'll try to calm down more… I’m just so scared that I'm going to hurt one of you but I'll do my best to keep my anxiety at bay... Thank you, my love.”

Remus wrapped his arm around you and kissed the top of your head just being happy in the moment.

Once a month he loathed his life.

But everyday before and after the full moon he genuinely loved his life.

Right now he loves his life.

He had one of his lovers in his arms while his other two lovers were ‘fighting’.

This is the life he will forever be truly grateful for.

. ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆₊☽ ◯ ☾. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° .

[cravingpepsimax]

since he’s beginning to spread, here’s a rough timeline of events for the fujo bill au:

bill is defeated and is put in the theraprism

after who knows how long, bill begins coping with his spite and rage towards stan and ford by doing/making stuff that he thinks they’d hate.

he begins “shipping” stancest. bill doesn’t really GET the incest taboo, it seems pretty much entirely arbitrary to him, but he knows it exists and is something humans are REPULSED by. thus, he starts making stuff involving stan and ford dating each other. theraprism staff thinks it’s odd but him writing books about stan and ford kissing is significantly better than him writing books in an attempt to escape.

over time, bill starts getting actually invested. it may have started as pure spite, but he begins to remember things that, oh boy, sure do seem pretty incestuous, now that he thinks about it. at first, it’s funny — “HAHA, WOW, SIXER REALLY IS A FREAK, ISN’T HE?” — but then it becomes real.

since bill’s calming down and is no longer talking about wanting to murder the entire family 24/7, theraprism staff decides to move onto the next step in bill’s karma program: becoming pen pals with one of the people he used to terrorize. mabel’s a lot like bill, but not evil, so the theraprism staff choose her.

meanwhile, a 13 year old mabel gets a Crazy Paranormal Experience, in which she is told what’s going on. mabel agrees to be bill’s pen pal (he won’t be able to do any actual harm, and, worst-case scenario, it’d be funny to mess with him (note that, even though mabel’s 13, well over a year has passed for bill — time is merely a suggestion for beings as powerful as the theraprism staff)

bill HATES being made to do this stupid pen pal stuff. he can’t use it as a way out — the theraprism staff have been keeping a VERY CLOSE EYE ON HIM ever since the book, and it’s gonna be hard to trick mabel into doing ANYTHING for him. so, his first few letters are him insulting and trying to upset mabel, who doesn’t really seem to care at all.

eventually, in one of bill’s pieces of hate mail, he says some shit like “SIXER AND HIS BROTHER ARE REAL FREAKS, KID! WHAT DO YOU THINK THEY’RE DOING ON THE STAN O’ WAR II? I’LL GIVE YOU A HINT: THE ANSWER’S ‘EACH OTHER’!”

mabel promptly ignores the rest of the letter entirely, and makes a GIANT response excitedly going “oh my gosh, you noticed, too??”, and listing everything romantic she’s ever noticed about them.

bill responds, filling in some gaps here and there, telling her about some incestuous stuff from 30+ years ago, pointing out things she missed, pointing out things he missed (“WOW, THEY DID WHAT? TALK ABOUT NEEDING TO GET A ROOM, YEESH.”)

they become stancest gossip buddies from there. mabel fujopills him in other regards (bill never thought he’d watch a show called “ouran highschool host club”, much less at the request of a 13 year old who thinks the pair of twins kissing would be hot/cute, but hey, afterlife’s full of surprises, ain’t it?) but his main love is and always will be stancest

they eventually become close enough and the theraprism staff trusts them enough to get interdimensional phone call privileges. any time anything happens mabel calls him and goes “oh my gosh, you’ll NEVER guess what just happened!” and they gossip for like an hour

stan and ford are completely clueless as to what’s going on at all. i like to imagine they find out eventually but it takes awhile LMAO

[amateurvoltaire]

Summer holidays are over, and if you’re anything like me—still pretending that your inbox full of emails doesn’t exist (Yes, Sharon, I’ll get to your spreadsheet eventually!) and scrolling through holiday snaps on repeat—here’s something to help ease the pain: Robespierre’s Journey to Carvin, the ultimate travel blog (1).

In June 1783, a 25-year-old Maximilien Robespierre embarked on a modest 35 km trip from Arras to Carvin to visit his relatives. He wrote a delightfully dramatic account of this journey, addressed to Antoine Buissart, his friend, mentor, and his wife Charlotte.

For anyone who thinks of Robespierre as some cold, humourless figure, I present this letter as evidence to the contrary. His wit, self-mockery, and unexpected humour shine through. He likens himself to Aeneas, takes jabs at his own inflated sense of importance, and, of course, waxes lyrical about tarts (2). Absolutely brilliant!

As always, this is my own translation, and honestly, there are more polished ones out there. Robespierre is in full show-off mode, packing the text with references to Greek and Roman history and mythology—because why not? I’ve done my best to explain them all, but it’s possible I may have missed a few...

Translation: Impressions of a Journey to Carvin (3)

Monsieur,  

There are no pleasures truly agreeable unless shared with one’s friends. I shall therefore impart to you a description of those I have lately enjoyed.

Expect not an account of my journey, for such works have been so prodigiously multiplied of late years that the public must surely be sated with them. I know of an author who, having travelled but five leagues (4), immortalised the event in both verse and prose.

But what, pray, is such an endeavour compared to the one I have undertaken? I have not merely travelled five leagues; I have covered six—and six good leagues, I assure you—so much so that, by the reckoning of the locals, they are worth at least seven ordinary leagues. Yet, I shall not say a word of my journey. I lament for your sake, for it would have afforded you the most infinitely interesting adventures—those of Ulysses and Telemachus (5)  would pale in comparison.

It was at five o'clock in the morning when we set out; the carriage which bore us passed through the city gates at the very moment the chariot of the Sun rose from the bosom of the Ocean. Our vehicle was adorned with a cloth of dazzling whiteness, a portion of which fluttered freely in the breath of the zephyrs. In this manner, we passed in triumph before the customs house. You may imagine that I could not resist turning my gaze in that direction, eager to see whether the sentinels of the excise office would betray their ancient reputation for courtesy. Filled with noble emulation, I dared aspire to outshine them in politeness, should it be possible. Leaning over the side of the carriage, I doffed my new hat and saluted them with a gracious smile. I had expected a courteous return. Would you believe it? These officials, motionless as statues at the entrance to their hut, fixed their eyes upon me, offering no return of my greeting. Ever possessed of an infinite sense of pride, I was deeply wounded by this sign of disdain, and it soured my temper for the remainder of the day (6).

Nonetheless, our steeds bore us with a swiftness that defies imagination. They appeared as if they sought to rival the Sun’s own horses (7) flying above us. Just as I had endeavoured to surpass the customs officials at the Méaulens gate in civility, our horses leapt over the suburb of Sainte-Catherine with a single bound (8), and with a second, we found ourselves upon the square in Lens (9). There we paused briefly. I took advantage of this respite to survey the beauties of the town that might engage the curiosity of travellers. While the rest of the company breakfasted, I stole away and ascended the hill upon which stands the Calvary. From this vantage, I cast my gaze, with mingled sentiments of tenderness and admiration, over the vast plain where Condé, at the tender age of twenty, won that famous victory over the Spaniards, saving the fatherland (10) . Yet a more compelling object drew my attention: the Town Hall. Though neither remarkable in size nor magnificence, it still had every claim to inspire my keenest interest. “This modest edifice,” I mused as I gazed upon it, “is the very sanctuary wherein Mayor T..., with a round wig and the scales of Themis (11) in hand, once weighed with impartial justice the rights of his fellow citizens. A minister of justice, favoured by Aesculapius (12), after pronouncing sentence, he would immediately dictate a medical prescription. Both criminal and patient alike trembled at his presence, and this great man, by virtue of dual authority, wielded the most extensive power ever exercised by one man over his compatriots.”

In the fervour of my enthusiasm, I could not rest until I had penetrated the precincts of the Town Hall. I was determined to see the courtroom and the tribunal where the aldermen sit. I had the porter sought throughout the town; at length he came, unlocked the doors, and I rushed into the courtroom. Seized by a religious reverence, I fell to my knees within this august temple and passionately kissed the seat that had once been pressed by the posterior of the great T....

Thus did Alexander prostrate himself before the tomb of Achilles (13), and thus did Caesar render homage to the monument which housed the ashes of the conqueror of Asia (14).

We resumed our journey; scarce had I settled upon my bundle of straw when Carvin came into view. At the sight of this fortunate land, we all let out a cry of joy, much like the Trojans, escaped from the ruin of Ilium, upon first sighting the shores of Italy (15).

The good folk of this village gave us a reception which amply compensated for the indifference we had endured from the officials at the Méaulens gate. Citizens of all ranks vied with one another in their eagerness to behold us. The cobbler paused, tool in hand, on the verge of piercing a sole, so that he might gaze at us at leisure; the barber, abandoning a half-shaven beard, rushed towards us, razor still in hand; the housewife, in her curiosity, risked the burning of her tarts. I beheld three gossips interrupt a most animated conversation to fly to their windows. Alas, the journey was all too brief, but during that time, we savoured the flattering pleasure of being the sole object of the populace’s attention. “How sweet it is to travel!” I mused. Indeed, they say that no man is a prophet in his own land; at the gates of one’s own city, one is scorned; six leagues further, one becomes a figure of public curiosity.

I was lost in these reflections when we arrived at the house that marked the end of our journey. I shall make no attempt to describe to you the outpouring of tenderness that accompanied our embraces—such a scene would have moved you to tears. Indeed, I know of but one comparable moment in all of history: when Aeneas, having fled the ruins of Troy, arrived in Epirus with his fleet and was reunited with Helenus and Andromache, whom fate had placed on the throne of Pyrrhus (16). Their reunion, it is said, was one of the tenderest on record. I do not doubt it. Aeneas, with his excellent heart, Helenus, the finest Trojan, and Andromache, the sensitive widow of Hector, surely shed many tears and heaved many sighs upon that occasion. I am willing to believe that their emotion was equal to ours; but after Helenus, Aeneas, Andromache, and ourselves, one must draw the line.

Since our arrival, our days have been filled with nothing but pleasures. Since last Saturday, I have been indulging in tarts, undeterred by others’ envy. By fate’s decree, my bed was placed in a chamber that serves as a storeroom for pastries, thus exposing me to the temptation of indulging all night. But I reflected that it is noble to master one’s passions, and so I slept, surrounded by these seductive objects. It is true, however, that I made up for this long abstinence during the day.

I give thanks to thee, O skilled hand,  

That first shaped pliant dough  

And offered to mortals this delicious dish.  

But have they honoured thee as they ought?  

Have they raised altars to thy glory?  

Hundreds of peoples, offering incense and vows,  

Have filled the earth with temples and gods,  

Yet all have forgotten that sublime genius  

Who brought ambrosia to mankind.  

The tart, with due honour, graces their feasts,  

But do they think of its first creator?  

Of all the acts of ingratitude for which mankind has been guilty toward its benefactors, this has always shocked me the most. It is the people of Artois who must atone for it, for by the judgement of all Europe, they know the worth of tarts better than any other people in the world. Their honour demands that they erect a temple to its inventor. I must tell you, in confidence, that I have a project in mind, which I propose to present to the Estates of Artois (17). I fully expect it will be strongly supported by the clergy.

But it is not enough to eat tart; one must also eat it in good company. I have had this pleasure. Yesterday, I was granted the highest honour to which I could ever aspire: I dined with three lieutenants and the son of a bailiff. All the magistrates of the neighbouring villages were assembled at our table. At the centre of this Senate, shone the Lieutenant of Carvin, like Calypso amongst her nymphs(18). Ah! Had you but seen with what graciousness he conversed with the rest of the company, like an ordinary man! How indulgently he judged the champagne poured for him, and with what satisfaction he smiled at his reflection in his glass! I witnessed all this with my own eyes... And yet, see how difficult it is to content the human heart. Not all my desires have been fulfilled; I am soon to return to Arras, where I hope, upon seeing you, to find a pleasure far more genuine than those of which I have spoken. We shall meet again with the same joy that Ulysses and Telemachus felt after twenty years of absence. I shall have no trouble forgetting my bailiffs and lieutenants. However charming a lieutenant may be, believe me, Madame, he can never rival you.

His figure, even when the champagne lends it a soft blush, cannot approach the natural charms that are yours, and no company of bailiffs in the world could ever compensate me for the pleasure of your delightful conversation.

I remain, with the utmost sincerity, Monsieur, your most humble and obedient servant,  

Robespierre.

Carvin, 12 June 1783.

Notes

1) I’m also working on my own “travel blog” about frolicking through the Vendée, but—procrastination, you know. 

(2) If you ever find yourself in Northern France, eat the tarts. They are sensational.

(3) This describes his  journey from Arras to Carvin

(4) 1 league = around 5 km

(5) Ulysses (Odysseus) and his son, Telemachus, are central figures in The Odyssey, known for their epic and legendary adventures  filled with mythological dangers, gods, and heroic feats over many years. Ulysses faces numerous trials, including battles with monsters like the Cyclops, the Sirens, and the struggles against divine wrath, while Telemachus embarks on his own perilous journey to find his father.

(6) Robespierre’s original line, “J'ai toujours eu infiniment d'amour-propre,” reveals quite a bit of self-reflection and perhaps a healthy dose of self-awareness.

(7) In Greek mythology, the Sun (often represented by either the titan Helios or god Apollo) is said to ride across the sky in a chariot drawn by powerful horses that pull the Sun from east to west each day. These horses are often imagined as swift and unstoppable forces.

(8) Méaulens is a gate, and Sainte-Catherine is a neighbourhood, both in Arras.

(9) Lens is a village about 20km from Arras

(10) I assume Robespierre is referring to the Battle of Lens here (since he is in Lens), which occurred on 20 August 1648 and was significant because it helped solidify France’s position at the end of the Thirty Years' War. But Condé was 26 at the time, and Robespierre might be confusing it with the Battle of Rocroi, which Condé won at 22. Does Max suck at history? Maybe!

(11) Themis is the Greek goddess of justice who is often depicted holding scales

(12) Aesculapius is the Roman god of medicine

(13) Alexander the Great, the Macedonian conqueror, greatly admired Achilles, the legendary hero of the Iliad. During his military campaigns, Alexander visited the supposed tomb of Achilles near Troy. According to historical accounts, he prostrated himself (knelt or bowed) before Achilles' tomb as a sign of deep reverence, honouring the warrior he aspired to emulate. Alexander saw himself as a successor to Achilles, carrying the mantle of Greek heroism into his conquests.

(14)  Caesar, like many Romans, admired Alexander's achievements, particularly his conquests in Asia (which included vast territories from Greece to India). Caesar visited Alexander’s tomb in Alexandria, Egypt, where he reportedly paid homage to the great conqueror.  Obviously Robespierre is being ironic by comparing his kneeling in the town hall and kissing the seat of a local magistrate) to these monumental moments of history.

(15) This refers to Virgil’s Aeneid, where Aeneas and the surviving Trojans are filled with hope and relief upon reaching Italy after enduring numerous trials and suffering.

(16) Again, a reference to the  Aeneid. Aeneas, after fleeing the destruction of  Troy, arrives in Epirus  (a region in modern-day Greece and Albania) during his long journey to find a new home for the surviving Trojans. There, Aeneas encounters Helenus and Andromache. Helenus is a Trojan prince and the son of King Priam of Troy. After the fall of Troy, he ends up ruling part of Epirus, having taken control of the land once ruled by Pyrrhus (Neoptolemus), the son of Achilles.Andromache was the wife of the Trojan hero Hector  (who was killed by Achilles during the war). After Hector's death and the fall of Troy, Andromache becomes a captive of Pyrrhus, but in Epirus, she is eventually freed and marries Helenus.

(17)  The Estates of Artois were a were a regional representative assembly or parliament the Artois province. 

(18) Calypso is a nymph or Oceanid who appears in Homer’s Odyssey. Calypso lived on the island of Ogygia, where she detained the hero Ulysses for several years. She was surrounded by lesser nymphs who served her.

[marengogo]

Are You Sure ?! - #4: I Hate that YOU Love Hate You but, I Love YOU, so ...

I’m listening to a Mellow/Angsty Love playlist - (yes) it has BTS/ solos BTS songs as well

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I'd share what I am listening to while writing this]

–🐺–🐺–🐺–

Hello My Sentimental Girls, Bois and Enbys,

Please be kindly warned that I am going to be overpoweringly sensitive as I write this. Not necessarily because Are You Sure?! has unfortunately come to an end, but because, as I try to write this post, as always, “through” my TwinFlame’s JK emotional lens, the last two episodes really were so full of so many feelings that I am trying my best to order my thoughts and do them justice. Like, let me tell you, this boy really felt plenty, or better yet he allowed himself to truly feel a lot hence, as always, through respectful speculation and educated guessing I’ll try my best to convey my related observations. 

Towards the end of the post I’ll also have a little confession to make about something that I have been so determinedly ignoring, because the mere thought always makes me so uncomfortable, sad, and a tiny bit scared, so there’s also that.

All that being said, here I am, concluding this physical/sentimental journey, with my unrequested thoughts but with a hopeful sense that perhaps writing this down will somehow lessen my emotional weight, because let’s be for real, I am going to have AYS withdrawals on Thursday. So, is this post going to be long?  … 🤡 I mean, you should know me by now. For those who don’t know me, yes, it will be a long post 🙏🏾.

Truly free things are hard to come by nowadays. Undoubtedly, money has effectively found its way into our everything. Yet, there is one thing that hasn’t changed in its acquired value as in, how you get by it, and how you get it, etc. This one thing is still available free and you can find it anywhere, LITERALLY. However, whether or not you’ll be able to acquire it, and eventually keep it, is, to this day, one of the most debated, discussed, joyed over, cried over, mused over, etc, topic. 

Yes, you’ve guessed; it’s Love. 

I don’t believe I was actually ever taught about just Love in all its forms. Not at home, not at school school talked about famous people in love, sexual education, popular love … basically they beat around the bushes 🙄, or amongst friends, and if I had, I do not recall it, at all and y’all, I have one heck of a good memory, I will not be humble about that. I think that my first notions and ideas I formed about the concept of Love came through books and films, and let me tell you, there is an infinite related archive out there, which can be as exciting, as much as dangerous. Regardless, even though it was never really explained to me same for everyone most likely, as I grew up, EVERYONE loooved to talk about it, ALL THE TIME, so somehow, I made my own understanding of it. 

One of the things I understood was that some day, when I would become a woman, I would find an adult man, have a family, children, and live happily ever after because I would fall in love and some man would fall in love with me. I understood it as a given; Everyone, of a certain gender, falls in love with someone, of the opposite gender, because there is someone out there, of a certain gender, for everyone, of the opposite gender, just waiting to find you or to be found. Basically, Everyone will eventually find, and forever keep, mutual heterosexual romantic Love.

Spoiler alert: It wasn’t not true.

In fact, the true state of things is actually the very opposite. The minority of people on this planet, heterosexual or not, will experience, and live with true mutual romantic love, and will be able to keep it for a very long time, and even fewer others will be able to take it all the way to the day they die, those are at the Legendary Level ones. And I am not saying this because I am jaded or bitter or any other hurt and/or hater-inclined-behaviour, you can really miss me with alla dat. This is just that one very helpful, and hard, to accept and you don’t have to accept it by the way! reality that should hit everyone at some point, but not always does. When it doesn’t hit, people may end up tormenting themselves sometimes to death when and/or if they can’t “find love”, wondering if they are unloveable, what is wrong with them, etc etc etc.  

Reason why, it is paramount to love yourself first and foremost. 

Because it might be true that someone is “unlovable” or that there is “something wrong with them” but, if true, this is principally hindering one’s well-being because, finding and trying to fix whatever might be amiss with one's self, may not guarantee a successful mutual romantic love, but it does guarantee a happier life in general. I mean, listen, if in the scope of things, you might end up having to spend the rest of your life without a mutual romance, meaning, you have to spend infinite time with you, yourself & YOU, how is that going to work, if you don’t love yourself …? And, just in case it wasn’t common knowledge, Loving Yourself is not easy, like any other relationship, it takes work. The reason why therapy ain’t cheap ✌🏾💰💋but needed, honestly.

So, let’s make no mistake; alas Love, in any of its forms btw, if it is harmful, it is not Love is needed. In fact, as it turns out, human beings were “programmed” in such a way that having it in one's life would make their existence progress less painfully, or even painlessly. In addition, self-love is one of the purest, satisfying, and incredibly useful types of love out there.

ALL OF THAT BEING SAID, for those lucky enough to find & keep romantic love regrettably, thus far, I am not one of those, trust me when I tell you, it is not at all smooth sailing. There are just so many factors to be factored in and the bear thought of it all can honestly be enough to make anyone not want to be bothered by it.

Yet, my beloved and most precious, TwinFlame seems to have found it. Now, I can’t guarantee it to be romantic as always, despite me believing it to be so but he sure as hell is fighting his darn life to keep it. So, yes, hm, I think

JK is in Love.

If it wasn’t clear enough in episode 1 all the way to this finale, JM is a person whose presence JK particularly wants in his life, and whose absence kinda makes him feel sort of … unsettled? … but I’ll dive deep into this, later on in this post. For now, it is important to point out that my TwinFlame not only actively looks after JM, but he actively seeks JM’s attention, he actively wants to be sought by JM, he actively tries to make JM happy, he actively wants to level with JM, he actively wants JM to be comfortable around himself JK and for JM to be comfortable with himself JM. Basically, JK cares, in his own way, quite loudly for JM. And I say “his own way” because I believe JK’s emotional intelligence (EI) to be somewhat different from the common ones. I actually received an ask about his EI, which I plan to answer very soon 🙏🏾, so for now, I will not dive into that in this, cos I really ain’t trying to compete with the length of dictionaries with this post 😬. 

Japanese people, traditionally, have a fascination for sad love stories, and ever since I got into 875, I’ve been wondering if Koreans feel the same way but in their case, it is likely to be just Sadness period. You see, in the West, we “all” love a heartbreaking and passionate love story, the reason why Romeo and Juliet will probably be eternally famous. Yet, we don’t believe that true love is love, because it is brought about by unbearable suffering, so it must be real. We are more of the true love, is love, because it leads to immeasurable happiness kinda style. Basically we Westerners love Romeo and Juliet because of what they could have been, but Japanese and maybe Koreans would love Romeo of Juliet because of what they were to each other. So when a person like me watches a movie like 5 Centimetres per Second and swears to never watch it EVER AGAIN which I haven’t and refuse to, a Japanese person might think that is probably one of those movies they’ll find themselves watching over and over again and let me tell you, it was great, I just don’t think I can handle a second viewing, no thanks.

So if I am correct in thinking that Koreans feel similarly as Japanese in this matter, JK, like many other Korean folk, loves to sing sad/angsty/melancholic songs. Either by himself, or in company, like he used to with Tae probably they still do as well as watching sad movies, like JM’s favourite being The Notebook and JK’s being Titanic. Yet, here is where the glitch in the matrix happens; JK was most likely not that serious but wasn’t he? 😬 when he brought this up however, he seemed to be a little bothered by the fact that JM really liked “Hate You” out of all the song in his album. JM sang Seven, 3D and Standing Next to You this particular one he kept bringing up like there was no tomorrow, throughout all 3 trips, yet, when he played Hate You in the car, for the second time because he had as well in episode 6 JK was like; “Why?”. 

Let me tell you something.You know how I usually skip Spring Day, cause I can’t really handle it? Before AYS Ep. 8 I used to skip Hate You as well for the same reasons as Spring Day; it was too sad for me to bear as it felt closely related him singing it alone makes me relate it to him in my flowed brain, even though he didn’t write it 🙃 to people I love, people being the Tannies. Lovely by Khalid and Billie Eilish in comparison is MUCH SADDER but because I am in no way emotionally connected to either Khalid or Billie I don’t mind listening to the song at all I love that song. 

Anyways, Long story short, it looked like it bothered him a tiny bit. It felt almost as if “Sure, we are Koreans and we like sad love songs, this being an excellent one, but I don’t want MY love story to be sad” kind of bothered “also this better have NOTHING to do with the fact that Shawn Mendes wrote this song!” - perhaps nervously thought JK 🤡🤣😂. In fact, there are a few situations that came up, involving him and JM, which “bothered” him and he had no qualms in bringing up with JM right away, which by the way is healthy AF. JK seems to be the type of partner that wants to confront you right away and will not let it be until he hears the words that make him know that the “conflict” is cleared to his own satisfaction, or until he senses you don’t want to talk about it any further in that particular moment.

Those are all examples, during AYS, where JK was satisfied with the answer that JM gave him to the legit concerns/silly questions he brought up. JK’s reaction right after all of those answers was him being content/happy, by laughing, singing along, or something else, hence moving on. Below is an example where he wasn’t satisfied with the answer:

Did he just drop it? Did they talk it out? As always, we will never know, as this part cuts into another scene. Only JK, JM and the editors will know and this is a fact we should never forget. Never forget about editing limitations, and this is a very good moment to add that even though whoever translated this show did a shitty ass job, the crew that went with them, to film in Sapporo specifically, seemed to be quite familiar with them, their dynamics almost like friends, which I think contributed with JK and JM feeling as comfy as they did in Japan.

Japan.

By the looks of it, this is the country that holds special meaning to both myself and my TwinFlame and, NGL, this kinda makes me happy and feel special LOL 😜. BUT, I DIGRESS! Didn’t JK seem a bit more … relaxed? Besides the very romantic fact that he wanted to go back to Tokyo because it was their first trip, didn’t JK seem a tad flirtier, a tad cuter, a tad more annoying, a tad comfier and just so fucking happy? He, and I’d dare say JM as well, truly let their guards down, even if just a tad. The fact that JK & JM wondered how the crew would have edited the content tells me that they were fully aware about the fact that they were being filmed, but didn’t want to think too much about it, because they wanted to also have a sense of freedom. Because of that, perhaps, they tried to give us as much realness as they could, restraining themselves in some instances, while also saying Fuck it! in few other cases during which they perhaps forgot about the fact that they were being filmed, confidently relying on their trusted crew to properly edit the footage in the best way possible. But back to the main point,

JK is in Love.

JK is probably the type of person who wishes he could have an answer, and/or remedy, to any problem his significant other may have. Yeah, he is probably the type of man that wishes he could take away all their pain, or feel it for them instead, and it is exactly because he seems to be willing to do anything for his loved one’s well-being that I think that sometimes he does struggle with some of their societal boundaries, such as; age hierarchy. Without getting too much into his EI, the part in episode 7 where he brings up how things would have been if he and JM would have been born the same year really stood out and stayed with me.

In this particular instance, for the first time I finally got to see him kinda mind about their age difference, almost troubled and not because he might think it to be a lot which it isn't at all, but because according to their societal practices, he theoretically should constantly be mindful about it, limiting greatly the actions he can do, not that he’s ever heed to them, but the fact is that he should, and in certain situations, he must. If we think about it properly, right from their debut years, JK has struggled a lot with referring, and treating, JM as a hyung, which is actually quite weird considering that the person he treated more like a “chingu” friend of the same age in this context was is Tae, even though, to my knowledge, he’s never dropped honorifics with him and had no desire in doing so, as explained during the first In The Soop which in hindsight, I’m sure must have confused Tae a lot who has been trying to be his cool hyung for as long as I can remember  (the following pictures are not from In The Soop, but Festa 2021). 

Like, it is honestly so peculiar how, back in the day, JK had never really treated JM as your typical “chingu”, nor a hyung, yet found himself sticking by JM’s side a lot, off cameras, filming him a lot, acting stand-offish just to apologise right after, staring at him a lot, learning all his likes and dislikes, studying his body and habits, doing questionable things such as focusing rather often on his lips and butt through a camera lens, which eventually evolved into JM being the first member he’s ever bought a gift for, as well as being the first member he’s ever travelled alone with… basically, as I’ve stated, JK has really never seen JM as his hyung or friend though he does try to remind himself of it. 

So if JM is not a hyung, or a “chingu”; then what is he? 🙄… 

Wanna know what’s even funnier? JM clearly cares about JK enormously and though he likes most of all of his sides cos JK can be annoying when he wants to 🤡✌🏾 the side he likes the most is his cute side; but here comes the catch. It would seem that from their debut days, JM truly became fond of that cutesy, happily skipping, side that JK shows with his hyungs in particular and the fact that they are ALL his hyung, including JM, just made writing this sentence so weird NGL …, that cuddly, super-maknae aura he has many a time, with literally everyone but the 95s, because Tae, as speculated, he seems to see as a chingu and JM as a … charming person?? Whatever that means.

Now JK does give JM “cute”, sometimes, but it is not the little brother kind of cute. It’s that “don’t go without me…” kind of cute, “let’s buy the same one” kinda cute, “you didn’t show me first, so I am hurt” kinda cute, “how do I look?” kind of cute “I can film you, but don’t film me” kind cute, “... spend time with ME!” kinda cute … you get the jist, don’t you? Cause, repeat after me; He a simp, he a simp, he a simp! And there is nothing wrong with being a simp tbh, as long as you own up to it, and JK does own up to it marvellously 💋.

And remember when I mentioned about him feeling sort of unsettled when JM isn’t around? I’ve been thinking about this for a couple of days but doesn’t it almost feel like a sort of … separation anxiety? Through the whole episodes it sometimes felt like he tried to do as much as possible, of anything, with JM as if he would just take off and leave at some point. This could also explain him always popping up on WEVERSE whenever JM took a flight, or trying his darn best to get him to come around even though they had just spent so much time together in the US. But who knows right? Perhaps he just really loves to spend every hour, every minute, every second with JM because, like crazy,  

JK is in Love.

So in love that he thought it important for himself to drive them to the airport, hence he didn’t drink that last beer I know he was dying inside, as well as taking a flight to Korea with JM, when he really could have just flown to the US from Japan. So in love that out of all the trips he's been to in his life, Are You Sure?! is the best trip he’s ever been on and he wishes to reboot when they come out of the military, where, by the way, they presently are together 🤡 . So in love that he wasn’t going to have JM get sad and lost in his own thoughts while in his presence, no, reason why, like a knight in shining armour, he “went and saved” him from his slump and not because JM was a princess in distress, but because prince charming also needs saving every once in a while If you ask me, the main “princess” in this relationship is my TwinFlame, no doubt, cause I also fo happen to think that they do take turns, for sure. Hence, the main “prince charming” is most definitely JM, and btw, frequency of a certain behaviour is not a factor that determines who is “main” 💋. 

Marengo Confession-Time!  😬- here it goes: I love watching people react to ANY 875 content, but I haven’t been able to watch anybody react to Are You Sure?! Because to put it plainly I am scared. I’m scared that people will question their relationship, or have homophobic reactions, or feel uncomfortable watching them when they do what they do. I just don’t want them to be hated for something they can’t help and are comfortable with. For the most part I am sure they would maybe nt comment, or chalk it up as “brotherly behavior", but what if they don’t? In fact, I am also so apprehensive of the reaction the world would have if they are a couple if they ever came out, it genuinely terrifies me.

I don’t want them to be looked at like freaks, or worse, so I am not able to bring myself to watch people react to them, in the same way I turn off when people have unwarranted shit to say when reacting to 875’s music. If they are a couple, I truly want them to be happy, safe, and become part of the Legendary Level ones. So, even though the world may not be fully ready to want their chapter in their history books, I hope it will someday,  because theirs would be such a motivating and enthralling chapter at that. 

I don’t know what will await them when they come out of ME. It is interesting though that JK made all these memories during the trip to take with himself and think about while serving. The snow he watched with JM, the restaurants they ate at, the time they tried skiing for the first time, the antics in the sauna and the “scuzzi”, the tuna-mayo gimbap he knew JM would love, the good afternoon and good night whiskey, and more. Now that I think about it, in some way, JK has a similar Love background to mine, he most likely wasn’t taught that romantic Love can come from someone of the same gender and he wasn’t exactly taught that not having children or a traditional family can be okay. 

Yet, I have a feeling that just like me, through movies perhaps, songs, or other means he’s figured out a thing or two. I have a feeling that he will decide for himself what Love is to himself, all the forms of Love he will need, who embodies Love for him, and what role Love will take in his life, and whether or not JM turns out to be that person MAKE NO MISTAKE: JM is an incredibly important person in his life. So, it is a strong feeling I have, but then again when has JK ever not taken control of his own life? When has he ever not followed his instincts and/or succumbed to what people want him to do? Same for JM really. 

These are two boys who found themselves in Seoul even though they were born in Busan, like, the universe wanted them to meet. They are two boys, who, along with the other five, made the phrase impossible Is Nothing feel real. After all, these are indeed two boys who really can’t be told to do anything. There is a very famous quote, which kinda makes me think of them:

I am the Master of my Fate, I am the Captain of my Soul.

So yeah, the future is uncertain but one thing is for sure, no relationship that took so long, so much care, and so many trails to build, can be so easily destroyed. So, fighting TwinFlame, whatever it is you want, you got this! 👊🏾.

Always respectfully yours 🫰🏾💜,

Marengo.

PS - Dammit! I miss them so much 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[compacflt]

wip wednesday: going thru my corny arc

[mossflower]

how many breakdowns should you have about dropping out before you seriously consider dropping out. asking for a friend teehee

[lovecoredeity]

agh world building

[designernishiki]

tbh out of the games I’ve played all the way thru thus far (0, 1, 2, 3) I think y3 is by far the strongest in regards to kazumaji content/implications, at the very least when it comes to majima’s feelings and displays of affection and whatnot. like. it’s legitimately hard if not impossible to adequately explain some of majima’s actions in this game as anything other than being out of way-beyond-platonic love for kiryu and it makes me want to slam my head against a wall and scream

[lesbiansanemi]

I’m gonna make it through the rest of Kyojuro’s backstory for this damn role swap AU even if it fucking kills me

[rosicheeks]

Unfortunately relatable. I grew up in the church and have a lot of Christian trauma from that. I show up for special occasions for my parents… sometimes. But it’s uncomfortable from the moment I step through the door. Bigoted pastor, the self-righteousness disguising the prejudice, the political comments from the altar. Shots at young people left right and center as if the hell on earth wasn’t caused by the same older generation 90% of the congregation belongs to..

I miss being young in the choir and the youth groups and not struggling with it. It’s wild to look back at the younger version of me who was unshakeable in his faith and honestly just saddening.

I was texting my sister today about it and she said

“I 100% think ALL of us have a ton of religious trauma and everyone else in the family just doesn’t realize it cause they’re still drinking the kool-aid.”

I ran out of tag room and didn’t want to delete any 😭 seriously not lying I could write a book about all my thoughts and experiences

[spirkbitch]

i’m so gay for leonard nimoy how do i cope with this

[starbuck]

if it’s not obvious by what i’ve been saying lately, some lever snapped in my brain and i’m now having some sort of film extravaganza where i finally watch all the Really Good movies everyone always talks about but i haven’t seen before and it’s been a GREAT experience so far because like.

my brain does this Thing with Classic Media i haven’t seen before (whether that be books, plays, shows, or movies) where it views it as this huge, intimidating, impenetrable thing, and so i’m going into these movies all scared and then afterwards i’m like Wow. it was literally just a movie!!!!!

I mean, a really GOOD movie, to be sure, but it suddenly feels approachable and fun instead of scary because I’m in on the secret now, and I love that!