#because my mom is the harder to please and stronger personality in the household who is way more obviously emotional and sensitive

[13eyond13]

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[more-than-stranger-things]

Please actually read this through before disliking it or something, and please do not dm me with rude messages if you do not like what I’m saying, because this is just my two cents on a thing that comes up countless times in the Stranger Things fandom and I want to mention something about it, because I don’t feel like a lot of people are understanding a key point in one character’s story. Again, We’re all entitled to our opinions, so please let me have mine.

First I do want to clarify that by what I am going to say, I’m not excusing anything Billy’s done or said, he’s wrong in ALL of it and this is not an excuse post for his actions, and in no way am I giving Billy an out for what he did, since most of it was reprehensible, I am only trying to help people understand the motives/background of certain abused/neglected characters/people. I’m trying to stop people from blaming someone who, while also being a wretched human being, is also a victim in his own story.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that many people I have talked to blame Billy solely for everything without taking into account that his personality traits were learned from his father, a person who should have had his son’s best interest at heart, but who was abusive and a asshole, who you can expect Billy got most of his personality from, since when a person is abused or neglected like that, they take on their abuser’s personality traits as a sort of protection, especially in cases of childhood abuse by a parent. You find yourself taking on character traits of the very person who abused/abuses you, because it’s a protection, a cover, maybe if the abuser sees themselves mirrored back at themselves, maybe the abuse will stop, maybe they won’t hurt you.

Being as young as Billy was when his mom left him with his abusive father, and feeling neglected, abandoned, and betrayed by that, the only place he had was an abusive household where he was beaten down by his father, in that place, he would have learned to be more like his father so that maybe his father would stop his abuse of the young, confused, and scared boy.

TO PROTECT HIMSELF, he turned into the very thing that had hurt him, and in turn, he hurt Max and Lucas and everyone else.

He probably grew up (after his mom abandoned him with his known to be abusive dad) to know he was unlovable or wrong, not worth the time of day, that he was only and ever what his father said he was. WORTHLESS.

Growing up in an Abusive household changes you for the worst, and for Billy he took on everything that his dad valued, every personality trait to make himself seem worthy in his father’s eyes. And everything Billy does/did is to shield himself from the years of abuse.

We can all assume that Neil Hargrove was not only a misogynistic and abusive person, but also a racist, and that Billy learned that from him. Again though, I am not saying that Billy is in the right in any of it. Just that he was a victim as well and took on his father’s personality to survive.

It’s confusing, hard to write about, and even harder to understand, and sometimes when you’re in a situation as Billy was in, many times you won’t understand it as abuse, many times the abuser will frame the abuse as helping the victim grow stronger, that they’re helping you, many times the victim caves to the abuse.

Abusers make the victim doubt themselves in everything, to the point you won’t trust yourself, you double guess yourself at every second, you start believing what your abuser says because they love you right? They’d never try and hurt you? That’s how an abuser can use your own feelings, thoughts, and emotions against the victim. There’s an old saying that makes sense in the context of this character and the means at which he became the shitty person he was. The saying goes ‘to protect oneself, we often become the very thing we hate, the very thing is mirrored in ourselves.’

The cycle of abuse kept going with Billy and it was easy for him to blame Max for it, because he couldn’t blame his father who had the power over him... he’d learned to be like the very thing he hated and maybe because of that, he even hated himself, but he’d lost who he was from the years of abuse and became like his dad as a shielding technique. His racism towards Lucas was part of that learned personality.

In closing, I would again like to reiterate that BY NO MEANS am I giving Billy an out on this, he made few decisions that were good for anyone, not even himself and he ended paying the ultimate price for that in the minute of clarity he got from El’s words, but that does nothing to excuse what he did in life. But I’d like to gently remind people that he was as much a victim as any of the other abused kids in Stranger Things.

I just want people to understand that.

[crazycatsiren]

Hi! I saw your asks are open so I thought… why not. (You seem really nice… please don’t judge me too harshly for being useless… 🥺)

I was wondering if you know of any Hellenic gods that could help with motivation? Ambition? Being an adult?

For more context, I’ve just been feeling so… dependent.

I feel like I don’t contribute to my household at all. I live with my mom, and I have a job, but I don’t pay bills. I don’t even know our monetary situation because I just let her do all the money aspects, despite me being old enough to finally take part in such stuff.

And I know a lot of that’s on me because I am so nervous about “adulting.” It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even feel like a real adult, despite being 24. And I know a lot is my severe anxiety. But I know another part of it is ME and the fact that I hate change. Every time I think about trying to change my situation I start freaking out. I’ve had panic attacks because of this. But I can’t avoid being an adult forever. My mom won’t be there forever. I need to do this. For me.

I know the gods aren’t therapists. I’m not expecting them (or you) to be (I’m already in therapy… it’s…. Slow going….). But I was thinking maybe a god might be willing to help support me while I try to go on this journey. I just don’t know who to reach out to. I don’t know of any gods that specialize in “adulting.” I was thinking maybe Apollo for my mental health journey though. I was just wondering if you knew of any others I might try to reach out to that might be willing to help support me.

Sorry for the long ask. I didn’t realize I needed to “say it out loud” until I started typing.

They all can.

Any of the theoi, any deity, is able to help you with these things.

Let me tell you a little bit about me and "adulting". I'm going to be 35 in a few months, and I'm 100% dependent on my spouse. Not only is he the sole bread winner and provider of our household, he is also my caretaker. Do I know that I'm not a burden, that this is not my fault, and that my spouse does all this willingly and gladly because I'm the love of his life? Of course. Do I still feel that I'm not doing enough? Often, especially on flare days when it's much harder to be optimistic. It's sure not easier when my family members on the other side of the globe who don't know the whole story keep asking when I'm going back to work or when I'm going to start looking for a new job. The answer is not anytime soon, which they don't seem to want to accept apparently.

It wasn't an easy decision for me to stay home and be a full time homemaker. That was never on my plans for my life. But I also never planned on being chronically ill. I sure as hell never planned on contracting COVID one year ago. Alas, here I am.

I don't just "feel" dependent. I "am" dependent. Life has thrown things at me that are out of my control, and it's something I've come to accept and roll with. But it's not a bad thing. It doesn't make me any less of a person. It doesn't make me useless or worthless. My home is cleaner and neater and cozier with me devoting all my days to it. My 4-legged children are happier because I'm spending all the time in the world with them. My spouse doesn't have to worry about errands on top of his full time job, other than taking me to my spinal injection appointments because I can't drive afterwards.

And my deities have been with me through it all.

They are around. They are willing to be here for you. All you need to do is ask. Any deity you feel drawn to/a connection with, just pray to them. Don't be afraid to ask for help.

Give yourself more credit. You are doing more than you think you are. You are stronger than you might know.

[ally-writes-many-things]

Father Figure (Jay Halstead) Part 2

Summary: You were dating Jay for almost 2 years but you had a bad break up. After you broke up with Jay, you found out you were pregnant. You tried to call and tell him but he would never pick up. So you just gave up. Six years later, Jay shows up to your door asking questions about a crime that happened down the street.

Words: 1191

Requested: yes

Warnings: none

A/N: I am so so so so sorry that I have been mia. I know it was only a week but it felt like forever. Also requests are still open. 😊

Prompts: n/a

  It's been three weeks since Jay found out about Benji and every day either before or after Benji goes to school, Jay is here spending time with him. You have yet to tell Benji who Jay really is, you have no idea how to tell him. You were in your kitchen cooking dinner when you heard footsteps coming into the kitchen, you had turned around and jumped when you saw Jay. "Sorry, Benji let me in," He said chuckling.

      You looked at Benji and gave him a you know better look. "I looked out the window before I opened the door," He said.

       You sighed. "Fine but next time come get me. Let's get you cleaned up for dinner,"

       Benji nodded and walked over to get his stool and pulled it up to the sink and started to wash his hands. "Can Jay stay over?"

      You looked at Benji and hesitated. "Uh,"

      You looked at Jay and Jay looked at Benji. "I don't want to intrude,"

     Benji steps down from his stool and looked at you pleadingly. "Please, mom,"

     You sighed. "Sure, if he wants too,"

     Jay half smiled and nodded. "Of course,"

     -

    You sat down at the end of the dinner table while Jay sat diagonal from you and across the table from Benji. You couldn't help think about if this was what it would've been like if Jay would've answered your phone calls. "How was school?" Jay asked interrupting your thoughts.

      You took a bite of your green beans as Benji started to answer. "Same thing every day but that's not what I want to talk about,"

       Jay looked at you, you shrugged and Jay looked at Benji. "Okay, then what do you want to talk about?"

      Benji puts down his fork and looks Jay dead in the eye as you took a drink from your cup. "How, you're my real dad,"

      You did a spit take and coughed a little. You looked at Benji shocked, you didn't think he would figure it out. "How'd you know that?" You asked him.

      Benji looked at you. "I overheard you talking to dad about it,"

      "Oh," was all you said.

      Jay shifted in his seat. "I'm sorry bud, I would've told you but your mom and I decided to keep it between us till we got to know each other better,"

      Benji shrugged. "Okay,"

      The rest of dinner was quiet except for the occasional utensil scraping a plate. After dinner, you gave Benji a bath and put into bed. You walked outside on your porch over to where Jay was sitting. "So what did you tell Ryder about me?"

      You shrugged. "Just the basics. We had a great relationship until the end. I had found out I was pregnant after we broke up and I tried to call you but you never picked up and that's it," You said.

      Jay nodded. "How did you two meet?"

      You looked over at Jay. "Why the concern over Ryder?"

       Jay shrugged. "I Just want to know,"

       You sighed. "We met through a mutual friend and we hit it off. We dated for two years, he asked me to marry him. We got a divorce three years later because we weren't seeing things eye to eye but we ended the relationship before it ruined the friendship,"

        "What things?"

        You rolled your eyes. "A lot of things,"

        Jay looked at you like he was in deep thought. "I'm sorry,"

       Your heart jump. "For what?"

       Jay sighed. "For not responding,"

      You shook your head. "It's not just your fault.  You were right, I should've tried harder to get in contact, I should've tried your brother or another way,"

       Jay sat up and looked at you deeply. "I'm sorry for everything that happened between us. I know that words won't fixed us but in hoping actions will. Can we please start fresh?"

       You smiled and placed your hands over his. "You had your fresh start when you started coming over here and wanting to spend time with Benji,"

       Jay smiled but looked down at his watch. "Oh I gotta go, it's getting late. Gotta be at work tomorrow,"

       You nodded. "Come over anytime,"

       ***

      Benji was in his bedroom playing while you were doing some household chores when you heard someone knock on the door, you walked up to the door and peeked through the peephole. The men who were at the door were strangers and they didn't look too friendly but nonetheless, you opened the door. "Yes?"

        The men looked at each other and then back at you. "Do you know a Ryder Richards?" One of the asked.

        You looked at them confused. "Why?"

       The other guy sighed like he didn't have time for this. "Ma'am, we need to talk to him, it is urgent,"

       You looked at both of them and they were clearly up to no good. "Sorry, but I don't," You said trying to go back into your house.

      The guy who looked annoyed grabbed your arm and pulled you out of your house and slapped you then grabbed your chin very tightly and got close to your face. "Listen here, you stupid bitch. We know you know him, so tell us what he wants to know or things will get rough," He said almost in a growl.

       He let you go and you stumbled back a little. "I don't know where he is or anything in his personal life. Not anymore. Not since we divorced,"

      The first guy sighed and looked at you sympathetically. "If you tell us the truth, it'll go easy on you,"

      You looked at the guy.  "I am telling the truth. He doesn't tell me anything,"

      "Fuck this, take the kid and see if she'll talk then," The guy said.

     Your heart started beating fast as they started walking towards your door, you blocked the door but you knew that it wasn't gonna keep them out since they were obviously stronger than you. "No, please I'm telling you the truth,"

      "Well I don't believe you and I'm gonna get that kid," He said.

      "Is that so?" You heard someone say.

      The guys turn and you could see that it was Jay. You had forgotten that he was on his way to talk to you about Ryder. You sighed in relief as your heartbeat slowed down. "Jay," You said breathlessly. 

      "This isn't any of your concern, so I suggest you backing up," One of the guys said.

     Jay smirked and walked up the stairs confidently. "That's the mother of my son you're threatening and also you're threatening my kid, so it is most certainly my concern," He said also flashing his badge.

     The guys got tense and looked at you. "You better keep an eye out," They said walking away

     "Don't worry about her," Jay said. "She'll be protected,"

      As soon as they got to their car and drove off, you ran up to Jay and jumped into his arms. "You saved me,"

     Jay hesitated for a second before hugging you back. "Was that about Ryder?"

     You pulled from him and looked at him. "How'd you know?"

     "We need to talk,"

[rycewrites]

lookism rant #1

so... it’s spring break. and i’ve spent the entire break doing what any smart ap student would do: ignoring my five looming ap tests and draining my phone battery by looking at webtoons and instagram. since most of my favorite webtoons are on hiatus, i have resolved to rereading my favorites, and one that i’ve reread the most so far is lookism. as spring break comes to a finish in two days, i decided to get my life back on track and instead of simply rereading the comic, i will rant about my most and least favorite characters starting with the fandom’s all-time favorite character (yes, if you check the wiki for lookism there is a poll and it is fact that he is the majority’s favorite), jay hong/hong jae yeol. (also, note that these are my opinions so if you disagree with them don’t be offended but i would be happy to hear other people’s opinions on the webtoon! please comment who would be on your list because i need to talk to more people who read lookism!)

top favorite characters~

1. jay hong/hong jae yeol:

let’s just list off reasons why everyone loves him: he is well-dressed (even plans out other people’s outfits), generous (gives daniel literally everything he wants), selfless (he fricking took in enu’s pups even though he is scared of dogs), RICH (main reason for kouji’s admiration), strong (manz uses his systema well), and CAN RIDE A MOTORCYCLE (yes, i love a man who can ride a bike). he may not be the most dynamic character, but his static puppy status makes it impossible for me to put him lower on this list. we honestly don’t know that much about his backstory and i am super curious about why his family relationships are so strained (except with his sister, joy). for now, he remains a mystery, but like an attractive mystery. overall, me -> ( ･_･)♡

2. zach lee/lee jin sung:

honestly hated this boi in the beginning because he was a big bully to daniel, but  he has been through some SERIOUS character development. mira was a big part in this but i feel like overall his morals have changed so much even when mira isn’t around. he does still fight often, but now it’s not meaningless violence as he uses his boxing skills to defend his friends (ex: defending johan during the god dogs arc).

i also hated his eyebrows and hair in the beginning of the comic but like that’s personal preference. however, in the last few episodes, his hair looks SO GOOD (reference image above).

he is second on my list of favorite characters because i feel that his development throughout the story has been the most dynamic. he not only changed mentally as he overlooks lookism more (ex: he is not only friends with big daniel but also little daniel) but also physically as he doesn’t simply depend on his inherent talent for boxing but actually goes back and trains again in order to get better (to defend mira >.<)

in the future, i hope to see more development with his relationship with mira and his friends because i hold a lot of high hopes for this boi! ♥‿♥

3. vasco/lee eun tae/tabasco:

BIG CUTIE ENERGY ♥╣[-_-]╠♥! first off, he may not have as much long-term development over the course of the story like zach, but we do see a lot of his development with his own arc and bullying story. he was always a pure boi and his inherent innocence creates a discrepancy with his appearance which makes him more endearing in my opinion. the idea of lookism is very apparent in his character because most people look at him and see him as a gangster or someone very intimidating, but in reality his personality and mindset are very innocent (showing another way that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover). i honestly LOVED the scene in the god dogs arc in which he defended zach and daniel joins in because that friendship is GOLDEN. i love how he always strives to be stronger and more powerful to defeat the evil in the world because it shows that he truly cares about the weaker people and those impacted by lookism. in my opinion, i think that vasco and zach will end up being the most powerful in the story (but that’s my opinion)

4. mira kim/kim mi jin:

pure! cute! sweet! moral! (✿ ♥‿♥)! mira is just an all-around great gal that makes it impossible for me to find flaws with. although she isn’t super major in terms of daniel’s story, she does impact zach significantly and makes him a better person. like she is the sole reason that zach has become a character that i truly admire and like. (although she did think that daniel was the r-word when he tried hitting on her in the beginning of the story. but throughout the story we see that she isn’t really a person to judge people on looks and stuff as we see that she gives jasmine the benefit of the doubt even after the vasco fiasco)

5. yena/eli jang’s (jang hyun’s) daughter:

honestly too cute for words. like the episodes where zach and mira find her are my favorites so i just wanted to include her in my favorite character list. also, she seems to be a character that really impacts other characters (zach and eli really changed for her ಥ_ಥ)

least favorite characters~

park ji ho:

always doing dumb things and making it harder for the people around him. he tries too hard to be a part of the popular group and as zach said, he doesn’t really think of them as friends because he just thinks about what the benefits are for hanging out with daniel and co. i think we all went from being tolerant of jiho in the beginning and then hating him at the end. i especially hated how he kept blaming other people and yet not accepting when people were being friendly. especially during the fake bank account arc, he just brushed off daniel when he asked jiho if he wanted to go to the convenience store then jiho goes running back to daniel and his friends when he realizes his mistake. overall, -123912830/10.

2. james gong:

don’t even know where to start with this punk. very violent for very little reason! i know i stated before that i hate jiho but i still felt kinda bad for him when he realized that james had sold the bank account he made for him. just overall a very intimidating character that hurt zach (ﾉಥ益ಥ）ﾉ ┻━┻

3. jasmine huh:

needs to get her shit(ake) together. first off, she almost got vasco expelled from the school because of her lies. like big! red! flag! it seems that she really doesn’t care about other people (except james) and is willing to put so many other people at risk to save her own behind. also, i hate how she uses other people. like how she uses mira to make money when mira didn’t do anything wrong ヾ(ﾟдﾟ)ﾉ. i hope she one day realizes that her lies are gonna hurt so many other people and then herself.

4. heemin kim/zeus/creepy dude from the boot camp arc:

sexual assault is a big no in this household. i hate how he thinks that being handsome can defend him of his crimes! also, he broke zach’s arms which made me FLIP OUT. LIKE HOW DO YOU DARE TO HARM MY BOXER BOI. he also attacked mira, an actual angel ლ(ﾟдﾟლ). words can’t describe how much i hate this man but numbers can -> 0/10

5. logan lee/lee tae sung:

big bully energy. he needs to lay his hands off of everyone (especially zoe!). blackmail? big no go in this household. he also dumped his plate of food on mira? BIG NO GO! he needs to get his life together and realize that people don’t hate him because he’s “ugly,” it’s because he has THE WORST PERSONALITY!

6. strong contenders for least favorite: stalker girl, animal cruelty cat mom/hoarder, zoe’s stalker

characters that i need more information about to form stronger opinions about~

vin jin/jin ho bin:

dislike him because he abused enu but also want to know more about him. big bully energy but i feel like he has a deep backstory behind him so i want to know more. why did he quite judo? why does he wear sunglasses? hope he gets over his superiority complex and changes because i feel like he has a lot of potential.

2. eli jang/jang hyun:

so far, very cute and strong is all i have to say about him. also, he is a good dad like that scene where he put out that god dog’s cigarette? MAJOR PROPS TO YOU ELI. i’m very curious about his backstory as well because it seems that he was a contender for gun’s successor but he changed drastically to take care of yena. i also just love a man with good hair sooo…

3. jong gun + joon goo:

i want to know more about these two! like what’s their backstory? why did gun create the 4 big crews? why was goo sent to the juvenile detention center before? (look at vasco’s bullying arc for reference) why did gun leave goo alone with the money collection? overall very mysterious and i want to learn more.

random characters that just deserve appreciation~

crystal choi/choi soo jung:

we stan a strong female character. however, i don’t like how she is immediately prejudiced against handsome men in the beginning of her appearance. i think over time she’ll realize that her prejudice isn’t right and her experience as someone who has to deal with lookism doesn’t justify her immediate judgements. however, we need more female fighters in this story so she is a big yes.

2. duke pyeon:

WE STAN A MAN WHO FOLLOWS HIS DREAMS DESPITE BEING BULLIED AND JUDGED. yes, we stan.

3. daniel park/park hyung suk:

honestly, he’s a great character and all, but i don’t know if he could ever reach favorite character status. i just have a mindset that makes me unable to pick the protagonist as a favorite character because i feel like they are sometimes created specifically to just bring the story together. don’t get me wrong, he’s a great person, defends his friends, and doesn’t fight for no reason, but i feel like there isn’t anything super special about his personality (other than the fact that he has two bodies but like so does crystal). he also looks like kim seokjin in his new body which is a big plus.

4. inu/enu + inu/enu’s pups:

i love dogs

5. mary kim/idk her korean name someone help me:

strong female character? i think yes. honestly such a fav. she doesn’t take sh*t from vin jin and i honestly want to know more about her character and background. *spoiler alert* i read ahead in the korean version and saw that she can beat people up too so like… she’s a bada**.

6. kouji:

as a person interested in computer science, I STAN. i also love a man with good hair. his cocky personality is sometimes off-putting but honestly his confidence is endearing at times. also we both love money!

7. jace park/park bum jae:

during vasco’s bullying story, i was so sad when he left vasco, but i love how he realized that he should’ve been a better friend and has stuck with vasco after all of this time. also love how he listens to vasco and tries to make him happy even when he knows that vasco does some silly things (like planting durian seeds in korea)

8. zoe park/park ha neul:

i love her development! she still fights with herself over whether she should like big daniel or small daniel, which displays her internal conflict with lookism. over time she has stopped judging people solely on their appearance and she is even able to distinguish between daniel and his cousin! (in my opinion, if daniel doesn’t end up with jay he better end up with zoe instead)

9. daniel’s (hyung suk’s) mother:

ICON! WE NEED TO APPRECIATE OUR PARENTS MORE! I AM A BIG STAN! SHE WORKS HARD FOR DANIEL AND IT BREAKS MY HEART WHEN DANIEL DOESN’T REALIZE!

10. song johan:

deserved better. he was just trying to help his mom which makes him so pure! but i feel like he should realize that he has friends (zach and mira) that could help him get through his problems! overall, want to see more of him and i hope he develops even more.

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

Red String (3/4)

Summary: When T.J. was 8, he read a book about the Red Strings of Fate. And when he was 10, he started seeing strings EVERYWHERE.

A/N: I’ve always loved the idea of being connected to your soulmate with a Red String of Fate. I did a bit of research on them and I’ve read some manga that have it as a theme. So, I took some liberties on how it works here and I’m still figuring it out along the way but I hope I’m able to convey them in a justified manner.

A/N2: I thought I’d end this at 3 chapters but I wrote so much and it got too long so I figured I’d split it and give you guys one more chapter to look forward to after this one!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Chapter 3: Red String

Chapter 3: Red String

Since Andi was apparently wallowing in her own loneliness with Buffy gone, Cyrus was now spending more of his free time with T.J. Not that T.J. complained about it. He was happy to spend time with the other boy. Most of the time, they just walked each other to class or studied together.

The weather was still a little chilly but some days, it was warm enough to be outside and not freeze to death.

It was during one of those days that Cyrus invited T.J. to study and do homework on one of the picnic tables at the front of the school. The other boy had a history quiz coming up and T.J. was trying to do his Math homework.

After letting the school know about his case and getting assigned a specialized tutor for this dyscalculia, he had been doing… better. Still a long way from an A+ but Cyrus was proud every time he showed him a passing grade. A smiling and proud Cyrus always left T.J. with a warm tingle in his chest and it made him just want to work harder.

“Hey, Teej, do you have those notes from the last chapter?”

Not even looking up from the problem he was concentrating on, T.J. gestured with an elbow to his backpack on the table. “It’s in my bag. The blue notebook.”

“Thank you!”

The sounds of Cyrus rummaging through his things reached his ears but T.J. couldn’t tear his eyes off his homework. He was almost finished and he was sure he got most of it right. He would have to double-check the answers with his tutor but for once, he was confident about his work.

“This seems rather small for a history notebook.”

Immediately, the warning bells ran out in T.J.’s head and he looked up so fast that his neck almost broke.

“Underdog, wait-.”

But, it was too late. Cyrus had already opened the small notebook to the first page.

T.J. watched in horror as the smaller boy’s eyes widened as he read. He should have been more specific. His notebook where he wrote his observations on the Strings of Fate was also blue.

Now, Cyrus was going to think he was weird or crazy. He was going to distance himself from T.J. His blue string would disappear and T.J. didn’t know if he could handle that.

“Wow, this is fascinating,” Cyrus commented, raising his head to beam at T.J. “Did you write these?”

T.J. blinked, feeling confused yet relieved. “Um… sort of?”

“What are they, exactly?” Cyrus asked as he laid the notebook on top of the table, open on the first page. “The Strings of Fate?”

T.J. cleared his throat, putting his pencil down. “Well… when I was little, I read this book about the Red Strings of Fate. In Japan, they believe that people who are meant to be together are tied together with a red string. That no matter where they are in life, they will always find each other. I, uh, thought it was pretty cool.” He chuckled a little bitterly. “I even tried to string my parents together with a red string but they divorced, anyway.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

T.J. shrugged. “I’m over it. They’re better off as friends anyway.”

Cyrus looked down at the notebook. “You wrote about two other strings. Blue and black. Did you make them up?”

T.J. swallowed. “Um… In a way.” He left it at that.

Cyrus flipped to the next page. “I bet Andi and Jonah are tied with a red string,” he mumbled to himself.

Oh, they were, T.J. wanted to tell him. But, the string was so beaten and tattered that he knew that it would break any day now. And he could tell that their blue string was stronger, anyway, so they would always be friends. Plus, Andi had an extra red string, this one not as tattered as the other one, so that probably meant that she liked two people at the same time.

(That was a new thing, so T.J. had written it down in his notebook. Apparently, you can also have 2 strings for the same person, depending on their relationship. He added that to his notes, too.)

Meanwhile, Cyrus sounded so forlorn that it made T.J. want to reach out and hold his hand. But, he wasn’t sure if he was welcomed to do so. Instead, he gently tugged on the blue string around his pointer.

Cyrus looked up with a smile at him. “And I bet we have a blue string!” he piped.

It made T.J. smile, warmth flooding in his chest. “I’m sure we do,” he agreed.

“I wonder if I have a red string with anyone,” Cyrus wondered out loud, staring at his pinky.

His broken red string was hanging limply there. It looked shorter than T.J. last saw it. He wondered what that meant.

“Probably not, though,” the other boy continued, chuckling humorlessly.

T.J. wanted to protest, so badly, because Cyrus deserved an actual red string with someone, not a broken one. How can he not?! He was sweet and kind and was like a ray of sunshine to everyone he came across! That type of person deserved a real red string.

“Anyway, I think this would make a great theme for a mini-movie,” Cyrus continued, sounding excited now. “Did you know I write screenplays? My last one wasn’t so good though, so I almost gave up.”

No, T.J. did not know that but he liked learning new things about Cyrus.

“I can help you,” he blurted out without thinking.

He couldn’t take it back because Cyrus was beaming.

“Would you, really?! Oh my god, I gotta get started on the script, right away! And do my own research! Mind if I take pics?”

“Go ahead.”

While Cyrus enthusiastically snapped a photo of each page of T.J.’s notes, the jock couldn’t help himself from staring.

Cyrus didn’t think he was weird. He even wanted to work on a movie with him. T.J. had never worked on a movie or written a script before. But, if Cyrus wanted to make a movie out of T.J.’s secret ability, he was willing to learn how. Besides, it sounded like fun. And they would probably spend a lot more time together.

On the table, he spied his pink string spread all over his notebook.

..........

It was several days later that T.J. ran into Cyrus and Andi at The Spoon… with a trash can they claimed as Buffy. Well, they said it was a time capsule and the snarky side of him wanted to tell them it was a trash can, but he was trying to change so he held his tongue and played along.

Andi didn’t like him, he could tell, but once he apologized to time capsule Buffy, she allowed him to hang around. For that, he was grateful.

At some point, while Cyrus was discussing his woes with somersaults in gym class and T.J. offering to help him, Jonah came and Andi immediately left them to speak with him.

“So, how are you helping me with the somersaults?” Cyrus asked him.

T.J. grinned. “You’ll see.” He looked at the list of tasks Cyrus had texted him earlier. “You can’t finish a horror movie?”

“I can’t help it! I get nightmares!”

“Well, we can work on that next.”

“I-I don’t know if that’s a good idea-.”

“Hey, guys.”

Both looked up to see Jonah and a girl T.J. didn’t recognize, but he could clearly see the blue string that connected the two of them

Jonah had dragged a chair so he could sit at the head of the table and the girl slid into the booth next to Cyrus.

It was right then that things got awkward when Andi announced that she was no longer joining them and, quite literally, ran out of The Spoon. Her red string floated behind her, strained and close to breaking.

T.J. thought Jonah would run after her, but he stayed seated. And these two were connected by a red string?! No wonder it was so tattered! (Plus, her second one had disappeared, somehow.)

“I should… probably go too,” T.J. announced. “I have to go to work.”

At that, Cyrus looked legitimately frightened. His eyes were begging T.J. not to leave him. How cute.

“Wanna come with me?” he offered.

“Yes! Please!”

And, with that, they were off.

T.J. took him to the children’s gym where he worked part-time. His dad was friends with the owner and had offered him a job so he could stop asking his mom for things he wanted. He knew money was hard to come by in a single parent household, even with the monthly sustenance his dad sent.

Besides, he realized that he liked kids. They were pure and innocent and didn’t care about his reputation at the school. They just liked having fun and playing with him as their blue strings trailed around the gym.

Helping Cyrus learn how to somersault was a success because of the kids. They were so encouraging and cheered the boy on, even if he failed a few times. And T.J. could tell that Cyrus had fun.

An hour later, while the kids were taking their snack break, the two teens also took one of their own. They sat cross-legged on one of the gym mats, munching on fruit snacks and juice.

“Thanks for today,” Cyrus said to him.

“Anytime,” T.J. replied.

“And… sorry about what happened at The Spoon earlier.”

T.J. raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Cyrus made a face, his nose scrunching, cutely. “That whole… awkwardness with Jonah and Andi. And Natalie.”

So that was the other girl’s name.

“Yeah, about that… aren’t they together?”

Cyrus sighed. “Together. Not together. To be honest, I don’t really know anymore. They have a complicated relationship that I can’t explain with simple words.”

That explained the tattered string. It wasn’t well taken care of.

“Kind of makes me glad I’m not a part of it, now that I think about it,” Cyrus continued.

That was an odd thing to say.

“What do you mean by that?” T.J. asked.

Probably realizing what he said, Cyrus just smiled and shook his head. “It’s nothing. Don’t mind me. I just… realized something.”

T.J. was curious but he chose not to pry. Cyrus would tell him when he wanted to.

The other boy spent another half hour at the gym with him before deciding that it was time for him to head home.

He thanked T.J. for the afternoon, hugged all the kids goodbye, and headed out the door with lighter steps. Like a big weight just left his shoulders.

It wasn’t until Cyrus briefly turned back to wave one last time that T.J. realized that the other boy’s pinky was now empty and free of the broken red string.

…........

When Buffy came back, Cyrus plotted to make sure she and T.J. would talk again. And by talk, he meant play a one-on-one game. Basketball was the sole language they both spoke and Cyrus used that to his advantage.

And T.J. never felt so grateful that the boy was in his life.

After the game, when T.J. went to the locker room to get changed, he looked at his middle finger. The black string was still there but it looked thinner…weaker. One tiny snap and it would break completely. He hoped it would. He didn’t like the sight of that black string anymore. 

“I could forgive you,” Buffy stated as the three of them made their way out of the school. “But I don’t know if we could ever be friends.”

“What if he apologized?” Cyrus suggested.

“That better be the best apology ever.”

Cyrus looked at T.J., with belief and faith reflected in his soft brown eyes. “You could give it a shot.”

And give it a shot, T.J. did. The words were already written down, somewhere in his one of his notebooks. Maybe with a few edits to accommodate the knowledge that Buffy was going to start her own basketball team.

But, he hoped it was enough. He prayed it was enough. He was never good at apologies.

“…if you wanna change the world, then you gotta change the game.”

With that last rhyme, T.J. felt it. His middle finger felt lighter. And he knew that it was gone. The black string had disappeared.

Buffy had forgiven him and stopped seeing him as an enemy.

Beside her, Cyrus was staring at him, mouth open in proud disbelief. “Was that the best apology ever?” he stated.

“I think… maybe it was,” Buffy agreed.

“So, we’re good?” T.J. asked, apprehensive.

She smiled. “Yeah. I think we are.”

“Cool. I’ll see you around, then.”

He flashed Cyrus a brief look, thanking him for the help, before turning on his heels and walking away.

It was like a weight off his shoulder, a thorn removed from his chest. For the first time in so long, he felt… happy.

And the reason for that was… Cyrus.

He felt the string around his pinky pulling, like something was holding it back…or someone.

Slowly, T.J. briefly stopped in his tracks and turned around.

His almost-red string was longer than ever and it was floating in suspension between him and…Cyrus.

Their eyes met.

And, right then, T.J. knew.

That string belonged to Cyrus. It had always been Cyrus.

It had appeared the moment he met the boy. It gradually got longer the more time they spent together. And, now, his string was trying to pull him back…to bring him back to Cyrus… because Cyrus was his soulmate.

Flashing the boy one last smile, T.J. turned back around and forced his feet to walk away.

Their strings weren’t connected.

Not yet.

But, part of T.J. knew that it would only be a matter of time. If he continued making his way to the other boy’s heart, if he continued doing the right thing and become the person worthy of Cyrus, their red string would appear, too.

Of that, he was sure. 

Tag list:

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[c-atm]

Shift in the Paradigm chapter 4 (Part A)

“We’re starting, ok...Did you ever have problems with the potential partners I introduced you to?”

“Seriously?”

“Please..”

“Mmm...Barring Jeff...Yes at first. I wasn't on board with you dating, let alone dating some random person.”

“Why?”

“It seemed sudden...It didn't  seem like you were really into them. There was a lack of excitement when you spoke about your dates.”

“So you think I was only playing around?”

“I didn't say that. It just felt like you was forcing yourself. You've never been a romantic nor spoke of having any type of crush.You were also very reserved when it came to them and you can be playful when you're comfortable enough...Borderline flirty, if they person is close enough. ”

“...That’s….A half truth.”

“Oh.”

“You know you’re the only one I ‘flirt’ with.

“Jeff and Peedee.”

Connie arched an eyebrow before crossing her arms over mid-section, a sultry smirk on her face. “You really gonna compare my sibling like teasing with Jeff, and my verbal back and forth with Peedee...To how WE act with each other.”

Steven shrugged slightly in light defeat. “True enough but that proves my point.” He looked at her with a cool smile.” When you your comfortable with someone you’re polite but you’d engage harmless teasing.  For what I seen, from what I was told as well; there was none with the those you ‘dated’. That, coupled with how disinterested you seemed to be over your breakups...it started to feel like they were a flavor of the month or so.”

“I didn’t think you thought of it that way. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It never seemed like you was putting yourself in danger and honestly I felt I had no say in it. The people you brought to meet and hang with us never seemed like bad, you have a good judge of character; at the same time, it was quite obvious that they wasn’t going to be around long.“

“Ugh...That sound So..bad every time I hear it. So flighty.”

“Hehe. Come on, we’re teens. I know how you pride yourself on being ‘objective’, ‘aware’ ; and ‘knowing what you want’, but you’re allow to be a bit skittish; even about dating and relationships… When you do find that one, you’ll know.”

“ Stars, you and your damned high EQ”

“Hey, you have an IQ that rivals Pearls and Peri’s, let me have this. So is there more to this or are you gonna tell me what up?”

“...Did It hurt you? To know I was dating others.

“MMM...That’s kind of a silly question. You have every right to date whoever you want, so would it matter in the long run?”

“It does to me.”

“...No. You living your life never hurt me and even if it did it would be on my head. That being said, are you sure that what you want to ask me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You want to know if I was jealous.”

“Would you answer honestly?”

“1000 percent right, Berry?”

“..Were you?”

“Admittedly..Yeah a bit. I said earlier that I wasn’t thrilled about the prospects  of you dating strangers and that I did show off abit when we had a group thing...that..was out of jealousy..”

“Cause you felt I was replacing you.”

“Well, that and you forcing yourself too, but as the root of my jealousy...Yeah, the replacement thing as discussed before.”

“Can’t say you wasn't right in a way...I did feel a bit lonely at times admittedly, since our time was fleeting. Hanging with the gems and the others are fine, but it not a replacement for…’US’.  Part of the reason why I tried to date..not to replace you but to fill that place of loneliness, didn't work.”

“I can relate, it wasn’t easy having such little time to spend with you,Nini.”

“Yeah, but you were outer space with a bevy of cute and energetic space gems.”

“More like exhausting and attention craving gems...Pink court give their regards by the way. Blue and Yellow diamonds as well.”

“Aww, that’s sweet of them, though kind of surprising of Yellow.”

“She doesn't like being shown up, though she does genuinely respect you.”

“Of course, classic Yellow” .

“Hehe. I supposed it is.”

Steven’s chuckle was a bit mirthless, Connie noted yet his smile was that of someone in blis; it made her a bit bashful under his gaze and a harder to keep the blush off her face as it was caressed in the light of the setting sun, as she was about to speak her phone ranged, causing her to reach into the pocket of her navy blue pleated skirt. On the phone was the name “Mom”, with  her index finger up she signaled Steven that their conversation was on hold as she began talking to Priyanka.

Steven on the other hand was just content watching his Connie in the evening light, explain quite simply that she and Steven was taking a detour and will be at Sadies’ soon. The way her nose scrunched up at the apparent teasing that must be happening.  The relaxed smugness that Connie in her voice when she countered her teasing. The Maheswaran women relationship was more jovial after everything was said in done. Having not only earn the complete trust and pride of her parents and vice versa, but also the fact that the Maheswarans has a nearly familial relationship the Universes and the gems; really helped evolve the relations within the less strict and more loving household. That and that Priyanka and Doug were made parents again to a pair of twins also had to be factored in and given the million watt smile on Connie, she currently speaking the aptly dubbed ‘Mini Maheswarens.’

“Yes, I’ll tell Steven you said hello, Raj….and Rache as well.  We’ll both see you two tomorrow when we we pick you up from the house...Yes we’ll bring lion…..I don’t know gotta ask pearl about the strawberry fields….You’re too young to handle swords, stay with your stick...Yes Sissy loves you too and I will call you two before bed for a story…Will Steven be there?”

“Tell them I said yeah.”

“He’ll be there for the story...Rache wanna know where my laptop at? It’s on my desk, but my room is locked so…..She got it!?”

“Ha! Little genius!”

Connie looked at Steven with a small glare before turning back to the phone. “Put her on..She said she busy, call back later?...BOY! Put her on....Good man”

Connie gave Steven an exasperated yet prideful look as she waited for her mischievous lil sister to come on, who just shrug with a smirk. That when a little feminine  voice came on the phone.

“ Sissy You’s there !”

Connie put the phone before responding with a slightly rough tone.

“Who told you to go in my room and how did you even get in?”

"I used a butter knife to turn the lock. I didn’t break anything...I just wanted to play a game.“

“Rachel! You can’t just  enter my or anyone room whenever you feel, especially when it locked, you understand?!”

“...I’m sorry...Can I still use your laptop, though?”

“Just be careful..and no downloading from sites, and put it on the charger when you’re done.”

“Yay! Thank you, Sissy! Good luck on getting kissy kissy with Steven!”

“Rach, Really?”

“Hehehe! I’m gonna go now bye-bye!”

“Love you Rach.”

”Muah! Love you more Sissy!”

With that Connie hanged up the phone and placed back into her pocket. She looked at Steven who was abit too cocky in the face for her liking.  She placed her hands on hip and arched an eyebrow.

“What with the look Steven?”

“Kissy-kissy?”

She shrugged with eyes slightly closed as let out a small sigh.

“You heard that, kids right? They say the darnest things.”

“Is it really unbelievable?.”

“What?”

“ You having feelings for me.”

Connie eyes widen slowly at the statement. She was prepared to tell him...not this though.

“Well...Wouldn’t it be?”

“Why would it?”

“Because it’s me and you. We dated other people, and I’ve never had a long relationship or any good at romance.”

“I don’t think one can be ‘good’ at romance, it’s not a skill you know despite what everyone says….”

“Easy for you to say, how many outings have you planned for us that were basically a date.”

“I mean...We never called them dates, it was just the two of us hanging out. I wasn’t trying to be romantic.”

“See! You don’t have to work at it. It came naturally to you.”

“Like I said, never really noticed. Every time we go out the only thing on my mind was to forget the problems we were going through and give you something memorable. If that resulted in adventures, jams, snacks, or snuggling up together while looking out at beach city from the hillside or any other stuff... then all the better...even more than that, I’m happiest when I’m with you. You‘re my home away from home.”

Connie smiled confidently as she felt her chest warmed. She took his hands and kissed his knuckles gently, feeling the blush warmed her face. She looked up at him with stars in her visible right eye; the fall placed her hair in away that it gave her a eye covering bang on her left side, causing Steven to redden in embarrassment and admiration; feeling the same wave of emotions he felt  when he saw her a few years back at Kevins’ party.

“I feel the same about you, for a long time… I love you…That what I omitted from before

“I love you too Connie.  You’re my Jam bud after all..”

Connie shook her head at his statement. She knew him well enough to figure out that he was baiting her to confess her true feeling clearly. “Yes, we are and it’s something that means so much more than it used to…’Jam buds’  encloses everything about you and I..Our adventures, battles, conflicts, Stevonnie, hell even times when we aren’t on speaking terms.”

“I agree. It’s the ‘flavorful’ history of us, our sweetest moments to our sourest spots. I wonder where this is leading to, though i’m a sure where you going with this.”

“ I cherish being jam buds with you Steven, thoughts of our history helped me through some of my worst spots,  but it doesn't encompass everything.”

The shades of the orange sunset enhancing his mischievous smirk made her throat dry and sent a shiver down her spy “Really now, Nini?”

Connie nodded as she massage the back of his hands with her thumbs, opting to hang her head lower and avoid looking up at him to further sheepishness. “ It doesn't include all I feel for you.. what I feel now.... Even back then when you gave yourself up. It’s a different feeling, stronger and a bit consuming. I tried to hide, ignore; smother it and move on. No use.“

“Doesn't seem like something you would do Berry, you’re usually so fierce when facing a problem.”

“External problems are easier than those of the heart. Going against monsters, tyrants; and the maniacal are a breeze compared to inner conflicts with oneself.”

“Preaching to the choir Connie, but that why I am glad to have you. It help to talk it out and comes to terms with it, you gave me an ear to do just that. Sometimes even a lap to rest my head. So let me be that for you, what the worst that could happen, huh?

“I could lose you, jam bud..or  make things awkward between us.”

“You’d never lose me, you know that. We have a lot more in store for us. Even if we have a few awkward spots, they can still be either sweet or sour flavors in our history.”

“You’re right...I have already decided to face the truth….Steven, while you’re not the naive pacifist you use to be... you still love everybody, or at least you CAN love every and anybody,. You’re willing to put so much on the line for those who are precious and it’s inspiring. You’d even try to reach an understanding with enemies, buts it’s unfair. You give so much of your love yet the amount you recieve doesn’t compare. So let me do it. Let me love you more than you love both gemkind and humanity, because as much as I tried not to..I already do…I love you Steven, not just as my best friend, liege; fusion partner; or even jam bud, but...I can’t say...”

Steven eyes widen at the bold confession and pause absorbing it all in  as he looked at the girl on his lap, he felt her tears roll down and fall on his hands. He lift his hands to wipe the tears gently before  pulling her in close to him in gentle and secure hold The smell of her chai and cinnamon shampoo, her natural scent of oranges and lavender overwhelmed him and lit a small urge. Before she and him knew what was going on, he kissed the crook of her neck, her  tear stained cheeks, but she beat him to the lips, which he melted into. It wasn’t like in the movies or novels. It was a held peck in comparison to the slick healing french from earlier..but they still felt a glow and heat around them. When they finally opened their eyes they each saw  something different.

For Connie it was brown diamond shaped eyes that sparkled like a supernova despite being gazed over a bit, with a pink glow coming from below. For Steven, he saw the galaxy in her very partial pinkish black eyes and  felt a comforting warmth from pink her arm. Both of them knew what this feeling was: Stevonnie. The feeling of trust, serenity; and love that empowers Stevonnie brings but without forming, something that they were fine with as they still needed to talk.

“So...Is it safe to say your feelings are romantic?”

[acupfullofcolors]

Random thoughts on... Endeavour - abusive father or misunderstood hero?

I was reading a fanfiction the other day and came once again into contact with the scene from the sports festival, meaning the encounter with Endeavour and Deku and Shouto as well and people often bash him in fanfictions and accuse him of being a bad person and that he’s a horrible dad. Which might be true at some points but I have a feeling that people don’t or even wont see him as a person alone. His past and how he became the person he is now.

What I mean is... Let’s focus on Todoroki Enji himself. His age and the circumstances he grew up in.

Todoroki Enji must be around fourty something, we don’t know how old his oldest child is only that Shotou is around 15/16 years old when the manga starts and that he has older siblings but I don’t think that we know how much older they are. So I am only guessing his age here.

Since we don’t know much about when the first quirk manifested (there was no real information about that) we have no idea since when people are having quirks and we also don’t know much about how society worked back then and how the people dealt with heros and so on.

What we do know is the fact that with a powerful quirk, people will see you in a better light. You are more valuable and people look up to you and respect you. Izuku himself says so when the manga starts. He even uses Katsuki as an example for how the world they are living in now is working. I will get back to this at one point, so keep this in mind while reading....

Regarding of what we know about him because of the manga, Endeavour comes off as a power hungry person, driven by his desire to become number one and even surpass All Might. He is ill tempered and anti social. He is a hard working hero and has a high number of rescues and solved crimes and so on so we can agree that despite having a shit personality he is a capable hero. In some points he kinda reminds me of Bakugou regarding their personalities and motivations. Both strive to become number one and dont want things handed to them but rather earn their spot properly.

He is also very hard and strict when it comes to training which we see in a flashback from Shoto’s childhood. I dont want to say that what he did was good. I think what he did went over regular training schedule and it could also be described as abuse and people will agree with that and this is where I am wondering if maybe he was raised in the same way?

When you get older and have children on your own you kinda raise them in a similar way to how you were raised. Maybe you share the same ideals as your parents regarding education, social manners and so on. I dont want to say that if you grew up in an abusive household that you’re going to abuse your children as well, no. But when we think about Endeavour’s personality and how he sees the term ‘hero’ and what he set as a goal for himself I wonder how he had been raised.

Coming back to what I said earlier... At the beginning of the Manga Izuku said that not all men were born equal and that he had to learn that at a young age. In the first chapter we had the world built for us which is especially shown in the relationship between Izuku and Katsuki.

What Izuku says about Katsuki is a big point here. He talks about how people praised him for having a powerful quirk, told him he was amazing and so on and so on. It is mentioned that people with powerful quirks are superior and above everyone else. The author doesn’t say it directly but it is implied in the way Izuku talks about Katsuki and his quirk, how everyone praised him and how he became full of himself due to that praising.

So if we keep that in mind, Endeavour as well was born into a world where you are above everyone if you have a great and powerful quirk. He was born into a world where it doesn’t count if you have an awesome personality no, only your quirk counts. The stronger your quirk the better you are. People will respect you and treat you better because of that. Your quirk defines your value so to speak.

And that’s exactly is the point where I think that maybe Endeavour is a victim to the society as well. Maybe he grew up in the same way Shoto did. With parents who demanded and expected to much, who only saw his powerful quirk instead of his personality. Imagine him getting this super powerful hell flame quirk. How people must have praised him and how those people would have only fed his ego? If people praise you this much you are bount to have higher expectations on yourself and feel superior to all the others.

It is harder to accept a defeat, harder to see yourself loose and harder for you in general. Because whenever you’re about to fail people will judge you and you will feel inferior as soon as you’re loosing or not giving your best.

I bet that he was kinda like Bakugou when he was younger, comparing those two characters he still is. While Bakugou is able to slowly grow because of all the failures he had to forcefully experience, Endeavour never seemed to have experienced such things. Only after his talk with All Might, after becoming number one hero (in his eyes not deserved because All Might was forced to retire and Endeavour was basically handed the title) we are able to see little changes in his personality, he even promises to become a better father for Shoto.

For his relationship with his son... I understand why Shoto doesn’t think so highly about his father. He had to live through that harsh training, his mother abadoned him and got insane because of how obsessed his father was with power and he was treated more as an object then a son. He has enough reason to hold a grudge against his father but I can’t let it go to think that maybe Shoto is exaggerting the whole thing. Please have in mind that we see a flashback from Shoto’s point of view and if we think back to how we were when we were children we know that sometimes children like to make things worse then they are in realitiy.

I am not saying that Shoto is lying or that what Endeavour did was okay because it wasn’t but I think we should consider the parametres of their relationship. We can’t properly judge them without knowing why they are like they are. Why they are doing what they are doing.

I hope that we maybe see more about the past from some of the older heros. I am really interested in All Might’s training with his mentor and with Gran Torino and Endeavour’s youth and so on. Because I want to understand him better. I want to understand his reasoning for what he is doing and how he is doing it.

Because my mom always told me not to judge people from one moment but to learn their story before you judge. There are people who had an awesome homelife and everything but still are assholes and then there are people who had an terrible homelife, grew up in an abusive household but are very kind hearted and loving towards their children.

So before I stick with saying that Endeavour is an abusive asshole who deserves to rot in hell I am more curious about his whole characterization.

[cinanamon]

take me under — pjm

pairing | jimin x reader

genre | angst, fluff, siren!au, sailor!au

word count | 7K

synopsis | When you finally get the chance to ride the seven seas, you make a crash landing on a siren’s island.

warning | character death, enchantment, dark, despair

            Since a young age, the sea salt spray and ocean waves entranced you. You were always drawn to the deep blue; you could always be seen walking by the shore or watching it from your window. It scared your mother, and she would try to keep you away. Try as she might, you always appeared by the water’s side.

            Some would say you were a captive of the waves because your father disappeared under them several years before. Others would argue that it was a childlike interest and would go away with time. A few men would even dare to hushedly joke that you were charmed by a siren, their lethal songs pulling you in, but the ocean was separating you from them.

            It never went away as you grew older. Even now as a young woman, you couldn’t deny the connection you held to the sparkling surf. And so, even though you knew it would upset your mother, you decided to board a ship; become a sailor. You knew you couldn’t stay on land; you couldn’t live a normal woman’s life with the marriage, children, and household chores. You had to be out there- you had to ride the sea. No matter how much you tried to suppress your urge for your beloved mother's sake, you couldn’t stand it any longer.

            And so you sought out an old friend of yours who was familiar with the trader ships that roamed your town’s dock. You briskly weaved past the bodies on the busy cobblestone streets until you reached his small apartment. You walked up the few steps and rapped on the door. It was a couple minutes before you saw the wooden door swing open to reveal his sleepy eyes and disheveled hair. Your previously serious mood softened into one of faint amusement.

            “Well, hello, Hoseok. How are you?” You simpered, watching as he rubbed his eyes and tried to smooth down his hair. He shut the door a little more as to save his decency.

            “(Y/n),” his voice was hoarse but he managed a smile. “I’m fine. What brings you here?” You were silent for a moment, and that’s when he took in your appearance and belongings. His eyes widened and you almost laughed at his flabbergasted expression. “Are you really-? You’re finally…?”

            You shrugged, offering him an unsure, but excited grin. “Yup; I’m packed and everything. I just need a captain who’s willing to take a woman aboard.”

            He sighed and brought his hands up to cover his face. “And that’s why you need me.”

            “And to say goodbye, but yes; I need your help.” You sheepishly said.

            He cupped his jaw and studied you. He shook his head but relented, “I do know someone who would take you,” You perked up but he stuck up his pointer finger. “But, he is pretty strict about things; you’ll have to behave- for me and him, please.”

            You laughed lightly. “I will, I will. Now who is he? Can you take me to him?”

            “About that…,” He leaned against the doorframe and pressed his tongue into the side of his cheek. “I don’t know if he’s docked right now. I think he was scheduled to leave this morning.”

            You gasped and uneasiness started to settle in your bones. “Well then I need to hurry! Who is he? Please, Hoseok!”

            He hesitated but unwillingly gave you the information. “Namjoon. Captain Kim Namjoon. You’ll see him, I’m sure.”

            You nodded and began to turn on your heel. “I’ll go see him right away-” You paused at Hoseok’s downcast countenance. Your eyes softened and you stepped back towards him, pulling into a tight embrace. He held onto you with the same warmth, and he dug his face into your shoulder.

            “You be safe, you hear me?” He warned, trying to sound stern. He eventually relaxed and sighed instead, his grip growing stronger for a split second. “I’ll miss you.”

            You separated to see his face and squeezed his elbows. “I’ll miss you, too. You were always a joy to be around.” At his small smile, you continued. “I’ll be safe. Goodbye, Hoseok.”

            “Goodbye, (Y/n). Safe travels.” His tone was quiet, but he forced a grin on for you. You returned the gesture with a wry smile of your own as you descended the steps. He waved at you as you walked backwards. You raised a hand and waved back.

            “I’ll be back before you know it!” You shouted. His hollow face morphed into one of small glee, his mouth opening as if to laugh. But you were too far away to hear the sweet sound, and then you were too far away to see such a comforting sight.

            On your way back to the docks, you now had a person in mind. You focused on the individual ships, crews, and especially captains. You ignored the inquisitive glances you earned from the working men, all curious as to what a young woman was doing looking at the ocean. You lifted your head high and strode through the sailors.

            Hoseok said you’d know him when you saw him. But how could you? What were the indicators to know which man was him? Due to your head swiveling back and forth, you didn’t notice the person in front of you. You gasped quietly and steadied your feet, lifting your gaze to the sailor.

            He was readjusting his grip on the cargo in his arms before he raised his eyes to glare at you. When his eyes met yours, his dark eyes turned to the size of saucers.

            “(Y/n)?” He questioned, his tight grip on the box slacking again.

            Your eyebrows rose. “Jungkook?”

            He chuckled slightly, but he tilted his head at you. “I haven't sen you in years! What are you doing here?”

            You shuffled on your feet and bit at your lower lip. “You remember how I told you about how I want to be on the ocean?” He nodded slowly. “Well… I’m going to fulfill that dream.”

            “What?” His eyes popped out. “You can’t just do that! You’re a lady!”

            You rolled your eyes. “Jungkook, just because I usually wear a skirt doesn’t mean I can’t get on a ship.”

            He hesitated. “I know that, but it’s against…” He didn’t finish that thought; you knew what he meant.

            You gave him a reassuring smile and patted his shoulder. “I know. Can you just tell me where Captain Namjoon is?”

            The dark-haired boy still looked unconvinced, but faint puzzlement lingered in his eyes. “You know who that is?”

            “Hoseok told me about him. He told me that Captain Namjoon was my best bet of getting to go on a boat.” You explained.

            Jungkook nodded. “Well that’s actually my captain, then. I’m sure he’ll at least talk to you.”

            You smiled. “Thanks, Jungkook. Do you know where he is?”

            “Um,” Jungkook looked behind him and surveyed the deck. “He’s probably in his study. You should probably wait for him here, though. He comes out to check on us every once in awhile while we’re loading.”

            You nodded and waved him goodbye as he went back to work. While you waited, you let your eyes wander over the docks. It was refreshing; the seagulls cawing, the water lapping at the wood, the shouts of the sailors. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the salty breeze brushing by your face and twirling your hair.

            “(Y/n)!” Your eyes snapped open. Your eyes drifted over the scene again until you saw a middle-aged woman frantically moving around the streets.

            Oh no, You thought. It’s my mother. You only left a note for her that morning since you didn’t think you’d be able to handle telling her- or at least, you didn’t think she could handle you telling her.

            “(Y/n)!” She called again, this time closer. You internally panicked. You had to hide; you couldn’t be seen by her. She’d stop you. You launched yourself behind a box and held your breath. Her quick steps sounded loud and clear as she made her way up the dock. You stopped breathing altogether. It was silent. Just as you thought you were safe, you felt a hand hurtle you up.

            “There you are!” She cried, pulling you into a crushing hug. You squirmed and threw yourself out of her arms. They weren’t comforting. Not after your father’s death. She loathed the sea after it claimed him; she was scared the water would take you away from her too.

            “Mother, I need to go-” You stepped away from her.

            “No!” her eyes instantly swelled with tears. “You can't leave me! Not you too!”

            You felt your heart hurt. Even if you didn’t feel safe with her or didn’t want to stay with her, she was still your mother, and you loved her.

            “Mother,” you softly tried, but you kept the tone firm. “I’m going. I’ll be home soon.”

            “No you won’t!” she sobbed, latching onto you. You flinched at her boney grip. “You’ll be gone too.”

            You shook your head. “Mom-”

            “You’re coming with me- you’re coming home.” Her face turned eerily calm and you shivered, trying harder to get away from her.

            “I don’t think she wants to.” A new voice spoke up, this one deep and relaxing. Your eyes looked up, and they landed on a tall man with windswept dark locks and a broad face. His expression was nonchalant, but his gaze was steely on your mother. “If she wants to stay, she will.”

            Your mother began to shake with another suppressed sob. The man bowed politely. “I’m sorry. Good day, ma’am.”

            She pried her hand from you, gave you one last teary-eyed glance, and walked away. You let out a deep breath and looked back at the man.

            “I’m sorry about that,” You wiped your hands on your skirt and watched your feet.

            He shook his head. “It’s alright; I truly hope she’s okay. I’m Captain Namjoon. I take it you’re (Y/n)?” He offered you a hand to shake.

            You lifted your head up in shock but took his hand. “You’re Captain Namjoon? How do you know me?”

            He looked behind him at his ship. “Jungkook told me you needed to see me. What’s your request?”

            “I...I heard you’d be willing to take a woman aboard your ship.” You replied.

            He went still for a moment, before turning back towards you. “Who told you that?”

            “Jung Hoseok. He works with the traders.” You answered, cautiously trying to read his expression.

            Namjoon nodded. “He’s an old friend of mine,” he fixed you with a narrowed gaze. “Are you a friend of his?”

            You nodded hastily. “Yes, a… friend.”

            He stared at you for a few more seconds before nodding. “I’ll take you. Climb aboard and find Jungkook; he’ll find you a spot.”

            “Thank you!” You smiled, relief washing over you.

            “Don’t thank me yet,” He started to walk away and glanced back at you. “You’ll be working as a part of my crew.”

            It started off okay. The men weren’t that bad; they were overall polite, if not for the few comments about you wearing pants or how a woman aboard was bad luck. You were able to do the work asked of you, and if you were honest, you enjoyed it. The best part was getting to be near the sea and just enjoy the ocean spray on your face or the salty scent lingering in your nose. Everything was great- perfect, even. At least, before.

            “I need those sails pulled in more! Do you want them to be ripped off?!” Captain Namjoon’s voice bellowed from the wheel. You watched as a few sailors scurried up the mast ropes and began pulling at the sails. You adjusted your kneeling position and tightened the ties at the base of the mast. You could faintly hear the shouts of the crew over the holler of the wind as you rapidly blinked the rain and seawater out of your eyes. The ship lurched and more water sloshed onto the deck, pooling around your feet. You jumped up and made a beeline for a bucket, beginning to scoop up the water and try throwing it over the side.

            The storm had hit unexpectedly during the night. You had been awoken to the yells of men and when you appeared on the deck, all the lights were out because no flame could withstand the water. It was scary then; it was too dark to see, but you could feel and hear everything. But it was probably just as scary now; a few men lost to sea and the ship starting to flood. The storm seemed to only get worse, even with the dawn right on the horizon.

            After you poured the water from your bucket out a couple more times, you looked out at the waves. They weren’t the waves you knew anymore; they were dark, hazardly rushing up the side of your vessel. You winced and looked away from the turmoil to gaze ahead at the ship’s course. It was dark ahead, but there was a vague shadow of something up there. You narrowed your eyes and leaned forward. You slowly made out the shapes of jagged rocks and you gasped, whirling around to face the upper deck. No one else noticed where you were headed or their impending doom. You dropped your bucket and tried to run up the steps, making sure to hold the handrail yet still sliding every once in awhile. Did Namjoon see it? You were rushing right towards something that could destroy the ship in a matter of seconds!

            “Captain!” You shouted. He didn’t take his eyes off of what’s in front of him, but he tilted his head your way to show he was listening.

            “What?” He yelled back. He jerked the wheel and you slid a bit again, causing you to grab the railing tighter.

            “There are rocks ahead!” You vociferated, your voice slowly growing hoarse. “If we keep going the direction we are now, we’ll crash!”

            This time, he glanced at you. The look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. “I know, but the only way to keep our ship from tipping is to go at an angle of the wind. If I change direction now, we’ll go under!”

            You felt yourself freeze, dread pooling in your heart. You were at a standstill; you’d either crash or tip. You were going to die. You felt your feet stumble back on the step due to another wave striking the side of the boat.

            “I,” You swallowed thickly. “What can we do?”

            He shook his head. “I can try to go at a narrower angle, but we need to fix those sails- especially the right one; it’s causing us to lean.”

            You nodded and rushed down the steps. You could do this; you could survive. “Jungkook!” You called. He looked down from his place straddling the sail pole. Water trailed down from his hair and drenched his fearful yet determined face.

            “Yeah?!” He hollered down.

            “Are you pulling in the sails?” You inquired, wrapping your arm around the mast and widening your stance.

            You watched him nod and go back to the ropes. “Yeah, but it’s almost futile. The ropes are too wet to untie!”

            You felt your stomach drop once more. You hesitated. There had to be another way around this. “C-can we try to manually draw them in?”

            He froze and looked down at you in shock. Physically walking on the yardarm in the middle of the storm was practically a death sentence. “I can. But (Y/n)-”

            “Please, Jungkook!” You tried. “Get the others, then! If we don’t pull in those flags, we’re going to tip or crash. I’ll be right up. Please.”

            He nodded unwillingly and carefully stood. You watched him turn and call to the men closer to the mast, telling them to help him. You held your breath and made your way up the rope ladder, carefully placing your feet in each hole on the way up. When you landed on the yardarm, you wondered how these men were doing it.

            It was even harder to see past the rain up here, and the yardarms were so slick with water that you thought you’d slip. You tried to balance as you made your way from one pole to the other. Thunder rumbled overhead and you clung to the mast. You glanced past the men below and towards the prow, and you gasped. The rocks were closer now; Namjoon was obviously have trouble fixing the angle.

            “We need to draw in those sails!” You hollered, hoping the men on either side could hear you. You began to cautiously move towards Jungkook on the right side, the problem side. They were already grabbing at the sails from the top and trying to pull in up towards them, rolling it up as they did so. You tried to lower yourself so you could straddle the yardarm and help, but you started to tip back. You shrieked, but Jungkook shot out an arm and stopped you. You were panting out of fear, and he managed to smile at you reassuringly. You scrambled back up and hastily held onto the pole.

            You and the men beside you got to work bringing up the full sail. It was a struggle since the wind kept drawing the sails back out again, or they’d tear at the top, causing the free piece of cloth to flap wildly. The sails were already starting to ruin, but you were determined to roll them up. Except, once you did, you remembered the ropes wouldn’t untie. You frantically searched your pockets for something, anything, that you could cut the ropes with. You prayed a silent thanks when you picked out a knife. You began to slice through the ties and grab the rope before it dropped. You handed it down the line of men.

            “Begin retying the ropes,” You instructed, repeating the action several times before each man had one. You looked back at Namjoon and then the rocks. You were so close. Your breath hitched in your throat and you quickly climbed back down and hurried to your captain.

            “Is that better? Can we make it?” You asked fearfully. He sucked in his bottom lip.

            “We can try it. I can’t promise anything, though. It either works, or it doesn’t; there’s no redo.” He warned, his knuckles white from such a tight grip on the wheel.

            You tried to even your breathing as you nodded. “It’s worth a shot.”

                With those words, your captain turned the wheel. The ship evened out rather than turning to the right, and you watched as the waves started to run into the ship a bit more forcefully. But it was alright because you were not tipping and you were getting around the rocks. God, just a little bit further and he could safely turn back to the angle and move out of the way of the storm. You could even see the end of the stormclouds; just a little bit further, please-

            And then the people near the prow began to freeze. They went stock still before relaxing and moving towards the rail, leaving their tasks undone at their stations. You furrowed your brows.

            “What are they doing?” Namjoon questioned, slight anger at the edges of his words.

            “I don’t-” You began, but your jaw went slack when the men in the middle of the ship did the same thing. Panic settled in your gut when the men on the pole stopped tying the ropes.

            “No, don’t-!” You started to rush down the steps, but you were too late. The sails unraveled and the wind immediately caught them, causing the whole ship to veer over again.

            “Jungkook!” You cried as the men beside him began falling off the yardarm, hitting the decks with resounding smacks. He slid down from the mast, and you began rushing to him, holding his biceps and shaking him. “What are you doing?!” You took in his dazed expression; you stepped back, unsettled. And then you heard it; the faint, beautiful singing. A lump formed in your throat.

            Sirens.

            “Captain! Hold your ears; don’t listen!” You shouted, turning to run back up the steps. But Namjoon was already letting go of the steering wheel and looking out over the waves peacefully. Terror fixated itself in your heart, but your will to live kickstarted in your brain. You grabbed Jungkook’s arm and pushed him behind the stairs, so he wouldn’t get thrown overboard. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t fight you as he fell. You hurtled up to where Namjoon was. You panicked internally for only a moment before taking control of the steering wheel.

            The female sirens only worked on sailor men, so you weren’t affected. Which usually wasn’t a problem since women didn’t go on ships, but right now their voices couldn’t hurt you. Which, right now, you wished you could be put under their spell too, so you didn’t know that you were about to die.

            You spun the steering wheel as hard as you could, causing the ship to lurch back towards the waves but, thankfully, away from the rocks. Your moment of hope was diminished when the sudden movement caused the ship to lean and begin to tip. You autocorrected and forced the wheel to the other side. The ship stopped tipping and you used all of your strength to hold the wheel in place as you sailed the ship sideways on a wave. You could see the edges of the rocks. Could you make it? You could do it! You prepared yourself to spin the wheel again, so you wouldn’t tip when you got away from the rocks.

            Your hands were in place when a new, soft, and melodic voice joined the others.

            Except this one was a male’s.

            Your grip on the wheel slackened instantly, causing it to reel crazily while you stared at it wide-eyed. You couldn’t bring yourself to grab it; you couldn’t control your limbs at all. The world was spinning, both in front of you and in your mind. The ship was rushing at the rocks, and your mind felt it was already underwater. Your panic and mental commands were slow, subdued; distant. You couldn’t feel or think, so just saw and listened.

            You crashed in slow motion. You watched the wood splinter and bend against the sharp edges of stone, the water splashing against the encounter and falling back over the deck of the ship. The mast fell, the tangled sails splitting over the pointed rock. At the force of the mast breaking, you were thrown overboard with a scream.

            When you hit the water, the cold water shocked you back to life. You were able to think again due to the water cutting off the enchantment, and you swam back to the surface. You gasped and sputtered for air as you wildly grabbed for some leverage on a broken piece of wood. You were thankful that there was still water in your ears, so you weren’t completely charmed again, just enough where you lost touch with reality.

            It wasn’t enough for you not to stare at the scene in horror. You couldn’t spot any of the crew from where you were, and the ship was practically split to smithereens, if not already sinking. You didn’t know what was going to happen. The cold was already seeping into your legs, the water kept washing over your head, the rain was obscuring your vision, and the sirens were sounding in your ears again.

            God, what was going on at home? Was your mother worried sick at her little kitchen table? Was Hoseok sitting by the docks, helping with unloading, but hoping to see you running towards him any moment? What about Jungkook or Namjoon? Were they already dead? Was this how it was going to end?

            You felt your salty tears joining the downpour and seawater on your face, but, really, you couldn’t care anymore. Your love for the sea turned into your worst nightmare.

            Jimin observed silently as his sisters’ sang their fatal song, and the ship began to veer. He regarded how their alluring voices mingled and caused the men on the ship to become incapacitated. He watched as the ship started to tip and move towards the rocks, causing his sisters to smile wickedly.

            Jimin didn’t usually partake in the singing to crash ships, since his voice would only work on a woman, but none rode the wooden vessels. He grew used to staying silent; he only opened his mouth to sing to himself or to converse with his siblings. He was raised to kill; to hate humans and enjoying ending their lives. Not to say he didn’t, he just… didn’t enjoy it the way his sisters did. He was indifferent, but seeing the sailors become weak to their voices disgusted him.

            His eyes grazed over the scene of disaster in mild detachment until he saw the ship lurch and start to sit upright. He leaned up from his comfy place on the rock and his alarmed eyes swept towards his sisters. They were appalled, but they didn’t stop singing. Jimin looked back at the ship and narrowed his eyes, trying to find the source of the problem.

            His jaw dropped in astonishment when his sharp eyes noticed a figure at the wheel that wasn’t under the siren’s charm. But what shocked him more was that it wasn’t a man.

            It was a woman.

            His breathing quickened instantly. This was his time; he could finally join his sisters in the ritual. He could sing freely and take down a ship- the reason for his race’s existence. He hesitated. Could he do this? Did the woman deserve this? He shook his head; she was with the men he despised- she could die.

            Jimin opened his mouth and joined the chorus, his soft, melodic voice melding in nicely yet distinctly. He cautiously watched for her reaction; him pleased yet uncomfortable when she froze and the ship was off course again, all hope of surviving crushed.

            He witnessed the ship wreck on the rocks in slow motion, guilt trying to knock at his door. He used all his strength to keep the door closed, forcing himself to survey the ruins in disinterest and just sing. Why wasn’t he as happy as he should’ve been? He should be overjoyed about his accomplishment! But the only thing he could feel was an uneasy twisting in the bottom of his gut.

            His voice subconsciously quieted down, and he bit his lip. He couldn’t help but search blindly for the woman in the water. Could she have lived? Was it better for her to have died? Yes, it would be better if she had drowned; if she hadn’t, his sisters would rip her to pieces, or she would be thrown about like a ragdoll by the roaring, unmerciful sea.

            His gaze dutifully scoured the dark waves and he was almost glad he didn’t see someone alive. Just as he was about to turn away, he saw a piece of wood move about wildly. He whipped his head and gasped in horror to see the lady grasping the material for dear life, her chest heaving.

            Jimin felt his guilt rip the door off the hinges and catch him in a vice-like hold. He studied her struggling form with bated breath. He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut at his dumb idea- but he would do it. He whirled his head towards his sisters, his nerves soothed a little to see that they weren’t focusing on him or the boat anymore; they were cheering over yet another successful wreckage. He took a deep breath and dived into the water.

            Your head was ducked underwater again, causing you to choke on the salty liquid. You gulped for air the second you resurfaced, and your legs weakly kicked you above.

            After being terrified and alert for so long, you felt withdrawn; like you were watching and feeling everything from third person. In that state of mind, you didn’t think you’d mind dying at this point. You couldn’t panic anymore.

            So when you saw a navy blue tail rushing towards you and then felt two arms wrap around your middle, you couldn’t bring yourself to struggle. Your body went limp as the being drew you away from the plank and started to swim with you back to the island. Your head lolled to the side, and you blankly stared at the incoming black shore.

            When the figure landed on the ebony sand, it dragged you up farther towards a big rock, shaded from the sirens on the other side of the island and the rain overhead. You closed your eyes and silently gave the creature the right to do whatever it wanted.

            “Are you… are you okay?”

            Your eyes snapped open, and you found the energy to pull yourself upright to lean on your elbows.

            In front of you was a man you could only describe as stunning. His silver hair was sleek with water, and his winsome eyes gleamed. His lips were soft-looking and so pink, his skin so clear, his hardcut abs- You were sure this was the same effect the siren’s voice had on you. It took you a few moments to take note of the expression he was looking at you with. His face was apprehensive; worried, yet curious.

            You tried to clear your head, plastering on a somewhat unsure smile. “I’m-” And that’s when your gaze trailed down his trailed torso to his midnight tail. Your words cut off, and you stared at it, dumbfounded.

            The man noticed your silence, and he winced, flapping his shimmering tail closer to his body. “I-I didn’t mean to-” his accent was thick, and you could tell he didn’t speak English often. His Adam's apple bobbed and his eyes shot back and forth.

            “You’re the siren,” you said, your voice devoid of emotion. “The one that caused me to crash.” He flinched and seemed to curl in on himself more.

            You felt so stupid. Of course it couldn’t be a human to save you- a handsome one at that, too. And if it were a sea monster, you would’ve been dead long ago in the water. You let out a defeated sigh and closed your eyes.

            “Why did you pull me out?” You calmly cut through his blubbering. He looked up at you in surprise.

            “I- what?” He asked, his tail unfurling subconsciously.

            You trained your resolute gaze on him, causing his eyes to widen slightly at their attractive color. “Why did you save me? Why am I here and not dead yet?”

            He avoided your scrutinizing stare on him, and he dragged his nails over his skin as a distraction. He chewed his bottom lip. “I… felt guilty.”

            Your eyebrows raised. “You felt guilty? But sirens kill all the time; they make a living out of crashing ships. You’re incapable of feeling ‘guilty’.”

            He ran a hand through his hair, and you felt yourself following his elegant movements. “We should be, but I don’t usually get to crash the ships. My voice only works on women and…” he turned to you with a pained frown.

            “Women don’t usually ride on ships,” you finished for him. He nodded, ashamed. You sighed; you couldn’t believe you were having a conversation with a siren who just tried to end your life. “Well, I don’t know what you plan to do now.”

            He tilted his head at you and ventured closer. “What do you mean?”

            “I’m stuck if you haven’t noticed.” You laughed, but there was no humor in your tone. “I have no ship, no fellow sailors, no food- I am stranded on an island with sirens who wish me dead.”

            The man was quiet, but you watched as a realization seemed to dawn on him and his eyes widened. He moved to your side urgently and grabbed your hand.

            Your eyes popped out of your skull and you looked at him as if he just grew a second head. “What are you doing?!”

            He shook his head and tried to tug you towards him. “I need to get you out of here.”

            You tried to jerk your arm out of his grip, but it was surprisingly strong. “Let me go! I don’t know where you’re going to take me.”

            He faced you again, and you were startled by the intensity and compassion in his eyes. “I know a way to save you.” seeing that you were about to disagree and resist again, he grabbed your other hand and pulled you towards him, your bodies pressed against each other. Your breath hitched at the proximity and at how serious he looked. His voice was low, “If you stay here like this, my sisters will maul you to pieces. I can’t have that.”

            He started to let go, but you hesitated and raised your voice at him, your will to stay strong beginning to crumble. “Why?” Your voice cracked. “Why can’t you have that?”

            He glanced back at you, an unreadable look in his eyes. He moved back to you slowly, connecting your hands once more and letting his fingers intertwine with yours this time. “I caused you to almost die,” his voice was hushed, and you felt his breath fan over your lips. “I need to make up for it.”

            “Who even are you?” He paused and it spurred you on, your words tumbling out feebly. “Who are you to say you can save me? What kind of siren does this?”

            He was silent, his fingers tightening around your own. His eyes bore into yours. “I’m Jimin; a siren who wants to save your life.”

            “But why?” You whisper. You almost felt he was using his spell over your mind, the way his singing captivates you. “Why me? You didn’t save the other women you ended.”

            His eyes softened, but his breathing quickened slightly. He cautiously brought his palm up to caress your cheek. “Because I know you don’t deserve it. You’re… pure. I can sense that you’re innocently determined, and it’s admirable; your soul hasn’t been tainted yet.” his breathing turned shallow as his pupils dilated, a faint flush surfacing on his skin. “That’s why I’m attracted to you and want to keep you safe.”

            You gasped and pulled away roughly. You shook your head; he was charm-speaking you. He had to be. This was- this was too quick, too strange; but so was this whole scene. You put your head in your hands and tried to think. “You- you’re trying to trick me.” You pointed a shaky finger at him, your breath coming out in short pants. “You’ll kill me-”

            “No, I won’t,” he grabbed at your finger and stepped in closer so you could smell the saltwater in his hair and mixed in with his skin. His face was contorted in hurt but masked with firmness. “I know you feel scared; I get that. But you feel something… for me too, right? I can’t be the only one.” His head lowered till he was level with you. You noted the calm hesitation in his gaze.

            You took an unsteady breath and closed your eyes. “I… I do,” You opened your eyes and watched his eyes sparkle. You looked at him in warning. “b-but that doesn’t make up for whatever you’re trying to get me to agree to.”

            He quieted his voice more, as if he was talking to a spooked deer. “If you stay, you’ll get killed. I want you to stay alive… with me, if you’d agree. I don’t think it’s possible for you to leave this island, so I’m trying to give you the next best thing.”

            Your life played behind your eyes. You can’t leave the island; your old life’s lost to you. The city you grew up in with it’s bustling streets and beautiful architecture. The way you could hear the chattering of the townspeople, the sea beside them jostling the boats. The childhood you lived, where you could enjoy the ocean from afar, and still get to live a normal life.

            And the people you knew and loved- Hoseok’s warm hugs; his comforting words and gaze; the way he’d always have your back and make you laugh. Jungkook’s gentlemanliness and endearing jokes; his smile. Your mother -even if she was part crazy with sadness- she was familiar and comforting in her own strange way. But she was right, in the most painful way possible.

            You weren’t coming home.

            You focused on the handsome man before you. The porcelain skin, the perfect light, silky hair, and glittering eyes that held an emotion you couldn’t yet describe. Your surroundings- the stony ground, the hostile female sirens, the raging storm, and the ruthless ocean that you were not accustomed to or in love with. Would it be better when the darkness cleared? Would it calm down? Could you learn to love this change?

            Lightening flashed and white light reflected in his dark irises, making him seem even more otherworldly than what he already was. The thunder rolling right after beckoned you to reply.

            “And what might that be?” You managed to breath, strangling back tears and only focusing on him. You were so worn out that you just wanted some relief; you didn’t want to feel this pain anymore. He gingerly brought his hand up to smooth back your hair. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch. His mouth parted in surprise before morphing into a soft smile, which quickly disappeared as he brought his face closer to yours again.

            “I can take you away from here,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours before moving to your lips. “I can make you a siren; I can ease the pain.”

            “Can you?” you distractedly inquired, feeling yourself let go. He hummed, the tone melodic. You felt yourself buzz from the sound, the effect of his slight hypthonization coursing through your veins. Your hooded eyes stared into his before you glanced down at his lips, since his gaze was already on yours. “Can you really?”

            His hands smoothed their way behind your head and tangled in your hair. His own head tilted subconsciously, and his voice was barely above of whisper when he responded, “I can.”

            Your panting was surprisingly even as you let your hands settle gently on his cheeks. You stared deep into his eyes, a bond of trust silently surging between the two of you. “Then take me.”

            His lips sealed over yours immediately. The kiss was soft and caring yet intense and persistent. Your grips on each other pressed a bit tighter as Jimin guided you towards him. He scuffled backwards, you following him right behind on your hands and knees. You felt in a daze, lightheaded; disconnected. The only thing that mattered was Jimin and his intoxicating lips.

            You vaguely felt water begin to lap at your knees. You fluttered open your eyes and found Jimin already looking at you through lidded eyes. You separated but stayed close, nuzzling into each other as he led you farther into the small, crystal-blue pit of water. It was located farther up from the sea, in between two tall rocks and encased inside a stone wall.

            The storm clouds were starting to disperse; the rain turning into a drizzle. The sun peeked over the edge of the rocks, blinding you but enveloping you, Jimin, and the pool in a soft, dazzling light. It was mesmerizing; beautiful and mystical, but a shiver ran up your spine.

            Your mouth opened to question him, but he shushed you tenderly, his hands running soothingly over your neck. His eyes flitted over your face, his gaze softly beseeching you to remain placid.

            “Do you trust me?” His voice was airy; hushed. His lips ghosted over yours and he placed a fleeting kiss at the corner of your lips. He was giving you time to back out, but you were too far gone to tell him no. You just wanted to give in- to give in to him.

            “Yes,” you answered without hesitation, shutting your eyes to enjoy his nose grazing over your cheek.

            “Then let go.” he whispered in your ear before he joined his lips with yours once more, this time more passionately and vulnerable. His hands landed on your jaw, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as he lowered himself, his whole navy tail immersed in the glowing pool. Your hands couldn’t stay on him though; the farther he moved under the water, the more your hands had to hold you up.

            A dulled momentary panic set in as you started to realize the situation; Jimin was leading you under the water. The short-lived thought vanished as you breathed in through your nose and shut your eyes a bit tighter. You trusted Jimin; he could turn you into a siren- he could end your suffering.

            You let yourself relax in his hold and you took the leap of faith to lift your hands from the ground, your body sinking into the cold, refreshing water. You threaded your fingers through his silver hair and conveyed your trust to Jimin through the kiss. His grip on you tightened, and he was the last thing anchoring you to the real world, that this was reality.

            It’s when your head submerged that you finally felt free.

[funkymysteries]

i want to see my little boy ... it’s DOMINICK “ SONNY ” CARISI JR !

→ 𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪.

dominick carisi jr was born into a big italian family in staten island , new york.

he’s the youngest of four , meaning he’s still his ma’s baby. even if he’s in his 30s.

from a young age , all he wanted was to be good. plain and simple. he wanted to do as he was told , to be nice , to be liked.

coming from a traditional , roman catholic household , to him , the epitome of goodness was the church. like all the boys in his extended family , he was an altar boy. for a while , he wanted to become a priest.

as a kid, he just wanted to have a lot of friends. he tried so hard. so hard that he ended up just kind of pushing people away , because he was a little over - eager. so his best friend was really his mom , who’d do anything to protect her son from any sort of heartbreak.

he was always a bit of a pushover. he was lanky , awkward , and eager to please. which meant that those kids who were bigger and stronger than him could take advantage of him easily.

on one occasion , he was bullied and pushed out of a window by another kid , and he didn’t do anything about it. he never told anyone ( and he regrets it to this day ).

high school came and went , he made a few friends , but none particularly close. he was generally liked , but over all just kind of average.

the dream of becoming a priest had died long ago , he wanted to be good , but priesthood came at much to high a cost. so what was another way he could help people around him ? be a friendly presence , protect his community ?

he decided to become a cop. he got his criminal justice degree , and joined the nypd.

he started as a patrol officer in staten island. he fumbled his way up to detective. homicide. he was dealing with some of the most gruesome crimes possible ( or so he thought at the time ). and yeah , they were horrible. but some cases just hit him harder. some cases just stuck with him , haunted him , shook him to his very core.

he realized he could do more to help. to do good.

so he transferred to staten island svu , but that still wasn’t enough. he’d always get frustrated when they investigated a case , handed it over to the a.d.a. , but then for some reason or another , justice wasn’t served. whenever a a perp he knew was guilty was acquitted , he felt helpless.

the solution ? become a lawyer. he started going to law school at night , using all that knowledge to become a better cop.

he didn’t last long in staten island svu , just about two months. he was never the most tactful , he was still a little too rough. he was a good detective , extremely observant , often picking up on details his colleagues missed. but working homicide meant he rarely got to work with live victims. victims who were often traumatized , who could be easily triggered , who needed a gentle hand guiding them through the process of an investigation.

sonny wasn’t really that person , and no one had the patience to work with him until he became that person. so they passed him along to brooklyn svu , where he worked for almost a month. that wasn’t a great fit either , so they chucked him over to queens svu , where he only lasted a week.

then , he made it to manhattan svu , where he started out a little rough , but that was the place where he finally reined in his impulses , learned how to be gentler.

he passed the bar exam in 2016 , and for a moment , he considered leaving svu to pursue a law career , become a prosecutor. but he felt like he could do more as a detective. so for the time being , he’s just a cop with more knowledge of the law than the average detective.

i’m pretty sure i’ve mentioned most of what’s on his wiki page , but just in case here !!

→ 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪.

that’s it , that’s all you need to know about him.

in all seriousness , all sonny really wants is to do good. to be good. he wants to help people , he wants to be liked and loved.

that desire to be liked makes him a little pushy sometimes. he wants to help , but doesn’t realize when his help isn’t really wanted.

he tends to offer a lot of unsolicited advice , and is too oblivious sometimes to realize when it’s not really appreciated.

believes people are good at heart. and still struggles to wrap his head around some of the horrible crimes he’s witnessed.

he’s the kid whose been around most of nypd’s special victims units , voted mostly likely to end a business call with “ i love you ” , the one who runs like a baby giraffe.

he’s still a good catholic boy. he prays regularly , goes to mass , confesses his sins. he knows the catholic church is far from perfect , but what he believes in is greater than the church as an institution.

very much a momma’s boy. even though he lives in manhattan now , he still travels to visit his mom several times a week , and they talk on the phone every day.

he’s a great cook. he loves to cook big meals for all his friends , and shows up to work with baked goods on a regular basis.

he’s an avid reader. loves classic literature , and will reread his favorite books often.

big bisexual disaster !

loves memes !

sagittarius !

his pinterest board is over here !!

[unadulteratedrebelrunaway]

ALL HE WANTS FOR CHRISTMAS IS TO BECOME PRESIDENT

[8/16/18].

  Alexander W. Benson II

             Dean Howell is a politically correct man living in a politically incorrect world. He likes to imagine a world where everybody is equal and nobody gets rewarded for working harder than anybody else.

             "It doesn't matter if one guy takes on all the risk, puts in all the research and development, and makes the greatest contributions to mankind," says Dean.  His friends, who happen to be hanging out at the bar across the street every weekend, getting drunk off their stools, should get the same rewards.  We are all part of the human family."

             He believes that men and women have equal physical capabilities.  "You say that men are stronger than women?" says Dean.  "Nonsense.  What are you crazy?  When I look at girls, I don't see the opposite sex.  I just see people.  The same goes for black people.

             "You look at one of them walking towards us, and you say 'look at that black man', says Dean.  "Meanwhile, I'm looking, and I'm like, 'what black person?  I don't see any black person'."

             "You point him out to me and say, 'right there'," says Dean.  "Finally, I see an Afro-American man walking right past us, and I'm like, you know, it is not nice to look at a man's skin color. We're all human beings, so I cannot tell when a man is black."

 ***

             "I can remember when I was a kid, and I was sitting in my dad's living room watching television while eating spaghetti," says Dean.  "Yep, my family was poor.  If we was rich I would have been having caviar.  Anyway, I'm watching Dr. Martin Luther Kind giving a speech on television.  He was talking about having a dream.  I turned it up all the way.  My dad yells at me to turn it down.  I told him that would be racist, so then he smacks me across the ears.  He said I was going to ruin the television set that he paid for with his hard earned dollars.  I tried to tell him that his excuse was just a cheap cover to mask his racist insensitivities toward the brothers and sisters who worked so hard to be our equals.   Would you know that he gave me the belt for it?"

             "He sent me to my room without supper," says Dean.  "From the stairs, to show my vigilance, I listened to the television while my dad sat down and listened to it.  I know it looked like dad was interested in civil rights, but I think he was trying to trick me into thinking he wasn't a racist. I heard the reverend talking about how one day, we would all be equals.  I felt a stir of pride.  Then came the part where it turned out somebody killed that guy.  Probably the Ku Klux Klan."

             "I ran down those stairs and started telling my dad that I'm going to take up the mantel where he left off, and I'm going to fight the oppression against my brothers and sisters," says Dean.  "My dad called me an idiot.  I told him how evil racists are, and they only try to keep us down."

           "Then my dad asks me what do I mean by 'us'? says Dean.  "I have a newsflash for you, Sonny Bobo.  You're white.  I'm white.  You're mother's white.  What do you mean 'us'?"

             "I didn't get caught in his trap.  I didn't answer him.  You know what they say about getting into an argument with an ignoramus.  Then I told him about how cowardly the police were. Why didn't they heroically catch the guys that did this to King?  If I was a cop, he would still be alive."

             "Would you know my dad told me that sometimes a box of rocks had more intelligence than I did?"

             "I reminded myself that ignorant people try to use ad hominem attacks all the time because their 'real arguments' have no valid basis.  I did what Jesus would have done.  I didn't answer him on that count.  You know, like the part where Jesus was brought to trail before the Romans, and he refused to answer any questions.  He figured the last thing he was going to do was give his enemies more rope.  They didn't hang him.  It worked out for him because now he's a household name."

             "I told my dad how one day I was going to be President, and I would free the black man," says Dean.

             "My dad told me that Lincoln already did that," says Dean.

             'I told my dad that was just an illusion," says Dean.  "Slavery might have ended, but the road to end racism was far from over.  I went on to tell him how someday I would be the president to wipe racism out completely, so that the children of tomorrow would have absolutely no idea what racism was, unless they open their textbooks and see pictures of the Klan, and Adolph Hitler."

             "He told me that someday pigs would fly, too," says Dean, "so I told him but pigs can't fly daddy.  He told me he still loves me, and to please, shut and go to bed.  On my way up the stairs, my dad added, Dean, promise me this.  When you hang out with people, please don't say ANYTHING.  Okay?  Think of it like a vow of silence that priests make."

             "Naturally, I smiled and went to bed in an upbeat mood," says Dean. "Think of that, my dad, comparing me to a priest.  The holiest people on the planet, and my dad already thinking I was equal to them. And here I was, a ten year old boy, and these priests he talked of were men.  Old men mostly.  A ten year old standing on an equal moral ground with a bunch of old priests with white hair.  I thought to myself, I appreciate you comparing me to these great men, daddy, but I'll do you one better.  I become greater than even these men of the cloth.  One day, I'll become a man of the Oval Office.  You mark my words.  It is going to happen."

             "On another note, I still fight for black people," says Dean.  "Only I know how to help them because I don't think they are capable of doing it themselves.  If that was true, then they never would have needed the Democrats.  Take me, for instance.  I've been a friend of the black man for ages.  They have a friend in me.  When I was little, I went to the big city with my mother.  She kept telling me not to make eye contact with anyone.  I said you always tell me to look at you when you're talking to me."

             "That's when you're talking to me, or I am talking to you," says Dean. "When you're here, you don't look at anybody."

             "What if somebody walks up to me and asks me a question?" says Dean.

             "Then you ignore them/"

             "All right, mommy," says Dean.

             "I see a bunch of black kids hanging out on a subway car," says Dean. "I thought they looked kind of cool.  They were talking loud and every other word was the "F" word.  They wore their hats backwards.  Being curious, I walked over to the guy carrying the radio on his shoulder with the music blasting in his ears.  I asked him if I could play with them.  Then I noticed they were all wearing sunglasses when the one with the radio looked at me, and the rest of them circled around me.  A couple of them started shoving me.  The next thing I know I was knocked to the ground and they all started kicking me, except for the fat one who was playing his tunes.  When I woke up in the hospital the first things I saw was my mother.

             "Mom," says Dean.  "Why did you hair turn white?  And one more question.  Why am I wearing a dress with polka dots all over it?  This thing is ugly."

             "She started hugging me so hard it hurt," says Dean.

             That was when I heard dad talking.  "Don't you worry about those ******.  They're all going away for a long time.  What they did was wrong."

             "Oh, daddy, it's not their fault," says Dean.  "They didn't mean it.  The just have all this pent up frustration from 300 years of slavery, plus that added 100 years of racism.  White people made them like that."

             "As for me, if I become President," says Dean, "I will fix all that is wrong with this country.  I will end racism.  My friends and I came up with this thing they call Affirmative Action.  That will take care of everything.  I will also get rid of sexual discrimination."

             "If I'm President, I will get rid of crime by making guns illegal," says Dean.  "That's right.  Think about it.  How are most crimes committed?  With guns. If you take away guns, you take away crime.  If people started using knives, then I will simply take those away too.  People shouldn't be defending themselves anyway.  That's why we have police officers.  Take away guns, and put an officer on every corner in America, and crime will cease to exist.  I know I don't have any evidence to back it up, but I know that it will work because I thought it up, and I'm never wrong."

             "I've always been a hard working man," says Dean.  "I am virtuous.  I am ambitious.  I'm the good guy.  I'm a friend of the black man.  I'm every woman's friend.  I deserve to be President of the United States of America.  I will protect you people form the dreaded Republican Party."

 ***

             I am sitting with Dean Howell.  I am interviewing him.

             "So tell me," says I, "what was the defining moment that inspired you to enter the political fray?"

             "I was watching television in my house when I was a kid," says Dean. "I saw a movie on the life of Doctor Martin Luther King.  He preached about blacks and whites being equals.  When the movie got to the part where he made a speech about having a dream, I felt a tingle in my chest.  He said the whole thing clear in front of the Washington monument.  I think he was standing on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Lincoln was the guy who freed him."

             "He died about a hundred years before King did," says I.  "How could he have freed him?"

             "I meant he freed his people," says Dean, "not him. Still, he freed him.  When I saw that man sitting in that chair."

             "I thought you said he was standing on the steps?" says I.

             "It's the Lincoln Memorial," says Dean.

             "Oh, you mean Lincoln," says I.

             "Of course I mean Lincoln," says Dean.  "Who else would be sitting there?"

             "Back to your back-story," says I.

             "My inspiration," says Dean.  "He gives this speech.  Have you heard it?"

             "Yes, I've heard," says I.

             "Say the words so I'll know you're not lying," says Dean.

             "I can't remember the exact words," says I, "but I get the gist."

             "Well the gist ain't gonna do it, buddy," says Dean.   He points his finger at me and says, "You'd better stop lying to me.  I don't like liars.  I only deal with honest people.  When I agreed to this interview, we made a tacit agreement that you're not going to put my words in some kind of a context.  You hear me, buddy boy?"

             "I think I get the picture," says I.

             "I doubt it very much," says Dean.  "Then some sick bastard shot him."

             A brief pause.

             "He died, you know," says Dean.

             "So that's why we celebrate his birthday every year," says I. "I never would have figured that one out if it wasn't for you."  I try to make the sarcasm obvious.

             "Luckily for you I'm here," says Dean.  "Then I stood up and raised my fist in the air. I will avenge your death, you good holy man, you.  That was when my dad walked into the room."

             "He didn't like you yelling too loud," says I.

             "No man," says Dean.  "He beat me because he's a racist.  I was showing I am a friend of the black man by feeling wrath at the injustice that happened to the late doctor, and I welled with pride because I felt like I was one with the black man, and my old man gave me a beat down for it."

             "Are you sure it wasn't because you were behaving like an idiot?" says I.

             "Hell no," says Dean.  "I just told you the reason.  My dad was harboring racist sentiments, but instead of admitting it to his family at some intervention, he buried his feelings deep down inside, and took his prejudices out on me.  I still don't think he liked it when I hung out with black kids on the subway car."

             "Was that when they tried killing you, and you wound up in the hospital?" says I.

             "Yes it was," says Dean.  "Would you believe that my dad wanted hunt them down like wild animals? I told him the only reason they did that was because of racism in America.  White people made them do it."

             "So, why do you want to be President?" says I.

             "Because I'm the best man for the job," says Dean.

             "Would you care to elaborate?" says I.

             "Sure would," says Dean.  "I think I can get rid of racism by instituting Affirmative Action across the board.  It will be everywhere, and once the black man becomes equal to the white man, all the racially motivated violence will be a thing of the past."

             "Crimes will still happen," says I.  "Most black people get killed by other black people. How would your policy end that?"

             "You're not thinking hard enough," says Dean.  "I'll tell you.  Guns.  Guns kill people.  Black people don't kill other black people, like what you would have people believe. Guns do.  I'll get rid of all the guns in this country, and then crime will be vanquished to the sea."

             "You sound like an idealist," says I.  "On what grounds do you base your argument?  You haven't mentioned poverty.  Don't you think you should do something about that instead, like maybe making our educational system tailored toward marketable skills in the twenty first century?"

             "Now you're jumping way outside the box," says Dean.  "That is completely irrelevant to the point I am making. As a matter of fact, wasn't that a loaded question?"

             "Sorry," says I.  "How about I just ask about poverty?"

             "No," says Dean.  He points at himself.  "I was talking about guns.  You've got to quit changing the subject.  You got something to hide?"

             "I'm not the one on trial," says I.

             "So says the guilty man," says Dean.

             "I am interviewing you, stupid," says I.

             "Nobody talks to me like that," says Dean.  "You got any idea who I am?  I'm out of here.  I knew something was amiss when you couldn't recite the late Doctor King's speech."

 ***

             I am interviewing his father, Dean Senior.

             "Your son says he grew up in coal miner's family," says I.

             "That's hogwash," says Senior.  "I was the town doctor.  Has he been telling you stories about me?"

             "That's why I'm interviewing you," says I.  "I have to find out who is telling the truth."

             "Well, you're not going to get it from him," says Senior.  "That's for sure.  The boy's an atheist, you know?"

             "Okay," says I.  "I don't see how that's relevant."

             "You don't see how that's relevant?" says he.  "Boy, have I got to fill you in.  I'm a Christian, GOD-fearing man.  I tried to raise the boy right.  He was always lying.  I used to tell him 'you know what happens to little boys who lie, don't you?'  Then I'd have to tell him where he was going when he died.  Then I asked him that when he dies, doesn't he want to go to heaven so he could meet me, his mother, and everybody else that he loves?  I told him if he desired that outcome, then he would have to stop lying. You see, I don't lie because I don't want to go to hell when I die."

             "Sounds like you were a good role model," says I.

             "Too bad it didn't work," says Senior.  "Look at him.  You said you interviewed him.  Quite a character, isn't he?"

             "Well um," says I.

             "You don't have to be bashful," says Senior.  "I don't care if you admit he's an idiot.  I love him, but he's still a baboon.  Did you know he used to tell people I owned slaves?"

             "Did you?" says I.  I blushed, so in order to recover from my blunder, I changed it to, "Did your ancestors?"

             "My family goes way back," says Senior.  "We go back to the beginning, almost.  Vermont has almost always been a free state."

             "You said almost always a free a state," says I.  "So let me see.  Your first male ancestor probably owned slaves."

             "We don't go that far back," says Senior, "and besides, the boy told people I had chains shackled to the wall in my basement.  He told them that was where I kept my slaves."

             "So there was nothing down there?" says I.

             "No," says Senior, "I had chains."

             "I thought you said your family never owned slaves," says I.

             "We didn't," says Senior.  "When Dean used to act up, I'd haul him down in the basement and shackle him to the wall."

             "You're a cruel bastard," says I.

             "Watch the mouth," says Senior.  "Show the proper respect."

             "But you just told me you used cruel and inhumane punishment on your own son," says I.

             "That was just for when he really started going bananas," says Senior.  "When he got like that, it was all I could do.  It was either that, or commit him to the funny farm, and although I don't respect him, I still love the boy."

             "Okay," says I.  "I wanted to ask about your son running for President.  I wanted to know, right from the people who know him best, what motivates him?"

             "He's a horse's ass," says Senior.

             "I thought you didn't swear," says I.

             "Ass isn't a swear word," says he.  "It's kind of like the word 'hell' and 'damn'.  Neither of those are swear words."

             "What do mean, he's a horse's ass," says I.

             "You know the back end of a horse?" says Senior.

             "Yes," says I.

             "Do I need to draw you a picture?" says Senior.  "Don't you know what a horse's ass looks like?"

             "Sorry," says I.  "I thought you were just using a figure of speech.  Can you give me something for my time?"

             "I'm not paying you money," says Senior.

             "I know," says I.  "I mean, can you tell me something I don't know."

             "Hm," says Senior, "let me see.  Now that I think about it, he is a legend in his own mind."

             "He thinks he's the Lone Ranger?" says I.

             "Close," close," says Senior.  "When he starts getting up on his soapbox, he isn't doing it to help people.  He does things like that because he thinks he is greatness personified.  When he helps people, I mean giving as little as possible, just enough to say he gave the poor something, and he has to have his picture taken when he does it.  No camera, no charity.  Sure, he might donate five bucks to the Salvation Army during Christmas, and he could even throw a few pennies in the kettle when he sees their workers outside, but that about it."

             "Thank you," says I.  "It's been a pleasure interviewing you."

             He is about to leave without saying a word, but just as he puts on his scarf to brave the cold Vermont winter outside, he turns to me.  "There is one thing.  He'll talk a good game about helping people, but he won't do anything. He'll just tell me he is a hard worker, but he'll just sit there on his can.  You know how he goes on his rants about racism.  He belongs to a country club that won't allow blacks to join."

             Then he goes out into blizzard, never to be seen again, until the next spring thaw when they found his corpse.  He was only fifty feet away form safety.

 ***

             I am interviewing a former campaign manager that put together one of Dean Howell's political campaigns.

             "How would you describe Dean Howell?" says I.

             "A whiny brat," says the former manager.

             "Can you elaborate?" says I.

             Certainly," says he.  "You know how a kid acts on Christmas morning?  He opens the first present.  There is all this anticipation.  He is so thankful.  He opens it, and once he sees what it is, he thanks everybody.  Then he opens the next gift.  Same thing, only not as much drama.  Then he thanks everybody, but it starts sounding a little forced.  Third present.  Rip.  He doesn't bother thanking anybody.  Then he starts looking for the other presents.  Once he finds the next one, he rips through it, and then another, and then another. Suddenly, tragedy strikes.  He keeps looking, but he can't find any.  He asks, 'Where are the other presents?' His parents tell him there aren't any. Now it is somebody else's turn. He throws a tantrum.  He's not interested in anyone else's turn.  All he wants is more, more, more.  Finally, his dad tells him Santa Claus will come back and take all the presents back if he doesn't knock it off right now.  He becomes incensed that the presents could be taken back, even though he didn't do anything to earn them.  He'll even go so far as to say something along the lines, 'let him come.  I'll be waiting up all night for him to show his fat ass at the door, and I'll use my Red Rider on him.  Let's see if all that fat can stop a b.b.'  The funny part is it will be with the very b.b. gun that Santa Clause gave him."

             "I thought his dad got it for him," says I.

             "Santa Claus.  Dad. Same difference," says the manager.

 ***

             I am interviewing Sharp Alexander.  "Tell me what you think about Dean Howell."

             "I's goin to do him in fronta da whole town," says Sharp.  "I've studies his every move.  I watched his film from when he that speech to those kids in the elementary school.  I know what he's going to do or say even before he does."

             "Sounds like you've put in some effort," says I.

             "Yes I did," says Sharp.  "I think I'm addicted to cigarettes now."

             I look puzzled.  "Why would you be addicted to nicotine?"

             "I went through two packs of cigarettes," says he.

             "Two packs?  That's forty cigarettes!" says I.

             "No, two and a half packs," says Sharp.

             "But it was a speech before a bunch of third graders," says I.

             "I didn't smoke it in front of them," says Sharp.  "I watched from my home theater."

             "But the speech was only half an hour," says I.

             "I watched it several dozen times," says Sharp.  "I spread it out over a couple of days."

             "Sounds like you really put forth a lot of effort into this thing," says I.

             "Every good coach, as well as general knows this saying, 'know thine enemy'," says he.  "Always come over prepared.  That way, you can always cut back."

             "You sound like you really want to nail Dean Howell," says I.  ,

             "That's an understatement," says Sharp.  He leans toward the camera.  His eyes darken as he focuses on the cameraman.  "I hate the guy.  I'm gonna pin him up.  I'm going to crucify him.  The minute he opens himself up, the instant he lowers his guard, I'm going for the one two knockout punch.  Then I'm gonna jump on him and start stomping a mud hole in him and walking it dry. You mark my words.  Dean Howell is going to be sorry the day he crossed paths with the Reverend Sharp Alexander.  Peckerwood won't be thinking it funny when he counts the lights on da ceiling."

 ***

             Sharp and Dean are at the debate.  "You gonna let a black man run for Vice President?" says Sharp. "You belong to a country club that discriminates against my people."

             "You hold on there," says Dean.  "That is an unfair analogy."

             "You know any black people?" says Sharp.

             "I have black friends," says Dean.

             "Name one," says Sharp.

             "Jesse Jackson," says Dean.  "I've got another one, too.  What's the name of that woman who just left the Oval Office?  She left because the President is a racist."

             "She knew that before she went in," says Sharp.

             "Not before she went in," says Dean, "and she has no reason to lie."

             "She's making money off of it," says Sharp.

             "She's not capitalizing," says Dean.  "She didn't know this beforehand.  She saw the light, and now she's writing that book as a way to warn everybody else to watch out for the President.  He's a racist."

             "They all honkies, so they all racists," says Sharp.  "Maybe except for Obama.  How you know the Omarosa woman?"

             "Who? Says Dean.

             "The woman you been talking about?" says Sharp.  "You mean to tell me you don't even know her name?"

             "I forgot," says Dean.  "However, I follow her on Twitter."

             "How you friends with her?" says Sharp.

             "Because I just told you," says Dean.  "I follow her, and although I haven't found her on Facebook yet, as soon as I do, I'm friending her.  That ought to shut you up.  I notice you like to shift the burden of proof back and forth a little bit."

             "How so honky?" says Sharp.

             "I'll tell you how," says Dean.  "You expect me to know every pertinent detail about infinitely complex things that are impossible to remember, but all you have to do is say they're all racist.  Who are they?"

             "The Presidents," says Sharp, "with the possible exception of one.'

             "Bill Clinton," says Dean.

             "Hell no," says Sharp.  "I'm talking about Obama, and while you bring up Jesse Jackson and Bill Clinton, did you know that Clinton's a racist, too.  He used to call Jackson the "N" word.

             "Clinton's not a racist," says Dean.

             "Yes he is," says Sharp.

             "But he can't be racist," says Dean.  "He's a Democrat."

             "You're racist, too," says Sharp.

             "No I'm not," says Dean.  "You got it all wrong.  The Republicans are racists.  The Democrats are pro-black."

             Sharp shakes his head and smiles.  'You know what they say?  Don't ever try to reason with a fool."

             Dean doesn't hear this.  "I'll tell you what."  Dean holds up two fingers then raises his third finger.  He points at Sharp.  "If you elect me President, I will fight for you.  When Dean Howell is in the White House, minorities will get representation.  When you elect me, you will have a friend in the White House because I'm not prejudiced."

             "I'm not voting for you," says Sharp.  "I'm voting for myself."

             "When I am President, I will still be your friend," says Dean.

             "I'm not your friend," says Sharp.

             "That doesn't matter because I'm still going to be your friend," says Dean.

             "Then let me join your country club," says Sharp.

             "I don't get to decide that," says Dean.  "You'll have to take it up with the Committee that runs my club.  I wish I could help you, but if I got you in, they'd kick me out."

             "So the truth comes out, does it?" says Sharp.  He bugs his eyes out.  "You admit it.  You are a racist."

             "I'm not racist," says Dean.  "I already explained it to you.  I'm a Democrat."

             "But you just said you wouldn't let me into your private club for rich white men," says Sharp.

             "I didn’t say that," says Dean.  "I'm not the one who's banning you.  It is the Committee that's making that decision.  I'm not the racist.  They are."

             "Whatever you say, Peckerwood," says Sharp.

 ***

             Flashback to Dean's speech before the parochial elementary school.  Dean is standing in front of Suzy Creamcheese's class of third graders.  "Kids, do you like watching movies?  I'm a Democrat,  so I'm one of the good guys.  My opponents are the bad guys.  Republicans are evil people who will enslave you.  I'm the one who's gong to make you free."

             A kid asks, "Didn't Abe Lincoln free the slaves?"

             "Yes he did, Jimmie," says Dean.

             "Wasn't he a Republican?" says Jimmie.

             "He was a Democrat," says Dean.

             "He was a Republican," says Jimmie.

             "Look, kid," says Dean with a scowl.  "The day that a little snotnosed brat gives me a history lesson.  That will be the day when you tell me my own business.  Do you have any idea who I am?  I'm running for President."

             "But this book says he was the first Republican president," says Jimmie.

             "Does it?" says Dean.  "That book has a Republican bias.  You know, you can't always believe what you read in books.  Besides, that was a long time ago.  He's no longer a Republican because he is dead, so there."

             "What if there is a heaven for Republicans?" says Jimmie.

             "There couldn't be," says Dean.  "Haven't you heard anything I've been saying?  The Republicans are the bad guys.  I'm one of the good guys.  When you daddy elects me President, I'm going to protect you from the big, bad Republicans."

             "But my dad hates you," says Jimmie.  "He tells me all you Democrats are interested in is getting elected. That's why he votes Republican."

             Dean blushes as he lowers his head in defeat.  He slumps as he walks out of the room.  It will be the last time he set foot in that room.

 ***

             Dean Howell's dream sequence.  Dean sees a roomful of children.  They are all whimpering because a Republican won office.  He is standing just offstage, waiting in the wings. "Don't worry children.  I'm here.  Dean is much closer than you think."

             He sees a Republican strut into the room, brimming with confidence.  Dean runs out to stop him.  The Republican morphs into a wolf and kills Dean, tearing him into a thousand bite-sized pieces, eats him, and then craps him out.

             Dean wakes up in a cold sweat.  Then he has a moment of inspiration.

             He gets onstage at a rally, and another leading candidate walks up.  They meet at the center of the stage.  Hoping to cash in on the publicity that Madonna and Britney Spears generated with their lesbian kiss, he turns to the crowd and announces, "I'm pro-gay rights.  And to prove it, I'm going to do this."  He grabs the Senator, and plants one right on the lips.  The Senator stands there stunned.  The crowd is silent.  The Senator turns red and starts shaking.  Then he punches Dean's lights out.

             ***

             I need to have a part where Dean is telling people how his opponent used the "N" word.

             "My opponent is the not the right man to lead you, people," says Dean. He has used the "N" word. Only evil people use the "N" word."

             "Aren't you an atheist?" somebody asks.

             "How do you mean?" says Dean as he places his hand over his heart, with a look of indignation.

             "You never go to church," says the audience member.

             "I don't need to go to church," says Dean.  "I'm already a righteous man."

             "Only believers go to church," says another audience member.

             "No," says Dean.  "Some pretend to be something they're not.  People who go to church have an inferiority complex.  They're compensating for something else.  You see, if they were already good holy men, then they wouldn't need to go to church.  They lack something deep inside, so they go to church to convince themselves they are good people.  But I'm already good people, so I don't need to go."

             "You were saying something about only evil people using the "N" word," says the first audience member.

             "Yes I did," says Dean.  "I have never used it.  People who use that word are the worst people on the face of the planet."

             "How about bank robbers?" says the member.

             Dean shakes his head.

             Somebody else asks, "What about house burglars?"

             Still no answer.

             "How about rapists?" says another.

             "How about murders?" says another.

             "What about child molesters?" says the guy behind him.

             "And while I'm at it, how about the politicians who got together with the businessmen, and outsourced all our manufacturing jobs to China?" says a man up front.

             "How about when the government likes to take somebody's land from them, all without paying them one red cent for it?" says somebody in back. "And this is after the owner spent his whole life paying off a mortgage for thirty years.  By the way, when I said one red cent, I was being sarcastic about the red."

             Dean is shaking his head.  Now he is bewildered.  "People, let me stop all of you.  I'm going to answer you like this.  The Nazis were evil people.  The Nazis used the "N" word.  Need I say more?  Thanks for having me here people.  That will be all.  I look forward to your vote on Election Day.  I appreciate you electing me to be your next President.  It will be fun."

 THE END