#'it's my favorite line in all of bleach. i say it all the time'

[recurring-polynya]

The Zanpakutou Rebellion Arc is always, like 30% longer than I remember it being. Anyway, we're at the part where Yamamoto has slowly started owning up to knowing what's up, and hilariously, he will only refer to Kouga by his given name.

The (real) Doylist reason for doing this is because the arc is trying slow-roll the reveal that Kouga is Byakuya's uncle. tbh, the Watsonian interpretation isn't all that different--Old Man Yams is also trying to avoid spreading the Kuchiki name around, if he can help it. (Because he feels a microscopic amount of guilt about this? Because he and Ginrei are bros? Because the Kuchiki can and will make his life miserable? Who knows!) It's also possible/probable that the Kuchiki disowned Kouga, but it's hard for me to imagine Yamamoto giving a rat's ass about that.

None of this is important, but because the Blorboist explanation (the one supported by your maximum brain rot) is that this is further evidence that Squad Six operates on a first-name basis, and Byakuya wasn't even the one that started it.

[shouyuus]

popular host club host!keigo who's constantly the top 1 or 2 in his host club, so he's got a long roster of regulars, but one of them happens to be a good friend of yours who brings you in one day bc you're a bit naive and she thought it was about time you got out there in the world

host!keigo who is no stranger to shy little birdies, but still has a job to do, so he does his usual thing with your friend, asks about her part time job, compliments her new hairstyle, asks if she's gotten that one toner he recommended, before turning to you and offering you a smile and a wink, and is more charmed than a man in his profession should be at the way you turn red and refuse to meet his eyes

host!keigo who keeps it casual, wears relaxed, but chic street-style clothing and keeps his roots bleached well, but almost nothing else, except for the two slits of black he inks into his inner corners; says that they keep his eyes sharp so he can see all his favorite little birds at the club, of course. and suddenly, you can kinda see why your friend likes coming here so much -- the conversation is nice and he's never too pushy, but it's effortless, the way he talks about himself and gets everyone to talk about themselves as well.

host!keigo who's earnest when he asks you about your interest and feels himself smiling when you light up and talk about the things you love -- reading, painting, photography -- your friend cuts in that it's a shame you're too shy to ask him to be a model for one of your projects bc he does photograph really well, to which you blush even harder and keigo wonders briefly if there's something in the air or in the drinks today bc wow is he feeling just a tad lightheaded and from the looks of it so are you.

host!keigo who, when your friends goes to the bathroom, leans across the booth to hand you his card, just a black card with two bright red wings embossed onto the hard cardstock, runs a finger along the line of your cheek, tilts your chin up and says, "if you ever wanna come see me too... i'll make time for you, dove. all you gotta do is ask." but when u tell him, a little too honestly, that you can't afford him, he just looks at you with a little smirk and says "like i said, dove, i'll make time for you." and leaves it at that

host!keigo who texts you good morning and goodnight, who asks you if you've eaten, who, you're pretty sure, on his days off, pings you and asks you what you're doing. so you tell him that you don't have plans and he immediately calls to ask if you want to hang out -- he picks you up at the train station, wearing just a fitted black tee and some loose-fitted jeans, but even then, people are turning around, doing double takes, but he doesn't seem to notice, only grinning and jogging up to meet you, asking if there's anywhere you'd like to go

host!keigo who takes u to the aquarium and then to the park, where you do a few doodles in your notepad. he leans over to watch and even though your first instinct is to hide your work, you let him see it anyway -- something about him makes you want to trust him, and for once, you want to lean into that. he tells you that your art is beautiful, and you ask, before you can stop yourself, if you can draw him, "it'd be my honor, little bird."

host!keigo who makes you laugh by doing the most dramatic poses before leaning up against a tree and closing his eyes and you sketch him out, feeling your heart in your throat, but when you show him, he goes still and quiet, before asking if he can keep it. you nod and hand the sketch over, blushing bc he holds it like it's lost treasure, something he's spent his whole life looking for --

host!keigo who takes you to dollar karaoke, claps and laughs as you try to sing the current idol song, who is, unsurprisingly, fantastic at singing and tells you to pick your favorite song for him to serenade to you, who pays for all the drinks and never asks you to shell out a time; when you try to get the last round, he gently pushes your hand away and says "not today, little bird, i wanna do this so... let me."

host!keigo who, when you ask him if he does this with all his clients, bends down and flicks a bit of hair from your face before his eyes flicker down to your lips, says, "no... only the ones i really, really like."

host!keigo who offers to walk you back to the station but when you get there, he seems hesitant to say something -- when you gently ask about it, he lets out a tiny little laugh, shakes his head and says, "y'know it's weird -- all these years of being a host... i've never felt like this before but... you just -- god, how embarrassing, right? my whole job is to be good at talking to people and here i am, at a loss for words --" he pauses, runs a hand through his hair before turning back towards you with an earnest smile, "guess what im trying to say is... i spend all day tryna make people feel like they're special, like they're the only person in the entire world but... with you... it's the first time someone's made me feel like that and... i kinda wanna be selfish, be greedy and take you somewhere and keep you all to myself but..."

host!keigo who thinks he might be losing his mind when you smile up at him with that brilliant blush of yours and tell him that "if that's what you wanted... i wouldn't mind... if it were you."

[kuroppiii]

HI HIHIII!! i have a silly request if you dont mind ×_×

there are a few haikyuu boys with longer hair (kenma, bokuto(?) etc.) and i wanted to see some reactions if gn!reader were to put pigtails in their hair heheheh

idk if this is more of headcanons than a drabble but youre the writer so please choose what u think is right T_T

fluff pleaseee >3< thats it!!!! cheers ro!!! laters!!!!

- 🍸 (begging for this emoji pretty pretty please with a huge cherry on top)

  hairdresser ᵕ̈        hq boys ( kenma , bokuto ,        kuroo , sakusa , asahi , yamaguchi ,        suna ) x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : putting long-haired   ⋮⋮  hq boys in pigtails

📋 content     ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮     ♡ # 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 🥛     ♡ # 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯��𝘯𝘴 🥛     ♡ # ~3.4𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴     ♡ # 𝘤𝘸 : 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘶'𝘴

🧸 directory ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ hello my new 🍸 anon (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ this idea is SO CUTE tysm for suggesting it . sorry it took a bit but i did both hcs and drabbles , just for you xoxo ”

︴kozume kenma ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

he doesn't know why you want to but he lets you anyway

i'd say, in high school at least, he doesn't really put his hair up (obvi since he doesn't do it during matches) because he doesn't know how he feels about how it makes him look in public

but when he's at home he'll def put it up if it's getting in his way of his video games

he actually has hairties strewn about his room, but for some reason they're like all different brands lol

"sometimes i run out and just grab the first one i see getting off the train."

you grab one that's hanging off the corner of his pc

"pfft didn't know you liked kuromi like that"

"oh that... that actually came from a set with a my mel tie..."

so OF COURSE you track down the my melody pair and start to comb through his blonde hair

he plays a game but asks you what his next moves should be in-game now and then to stay engaged with you, as you sit behind him and pigtail his hair

tbh i think his hair would feel dead af from the bleach as you style it but its ok you still love him!!!

"okay, done!" you open up your phone camera and hold it out in front of kenma. he quickly pauses his game and lightly grasps your hand holding the phone as he checks himself out.

"hm... i look ridiculous," he chuckles, "i look like a 5-year-old girl."

"yeah i don't think kuromi and my mel are helping with that, either," you joke. kenma shakes his head around for the two pigtails to swing about his head, the little character charms on the hairties clinking about and making you burst out in laughter. you try to line up your phone to take a picture of him, but he catches you in the act.

he gently swats your arm away and swaps the phone in your hand with his hand in the process, "babe, noo."

"just one? please?" you pry.

he shakes his head and takes your hand up to his lips, kissing it but mumbling out against it a firm...

"no."

"ken."

his eyes are still glued to the screen...

"no."

"with a cherry on top?"

he turns and leaves a quick kiss on your lips, looking into your eyes before whispering...

"no."

despite all his protests, though, rest assured you walked away that night with a new photo in your favorites album: kenma covering his face with his controller with the purple and pink sanrio bunnies holding up two blonde pigtails on the top of his head.

but that was inevitable, he could never resist his baby for too long.

︴bokuto kōtarō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

"anything you want babe!!"

anything to spend time with his favorite person

theres too much fucking gel in his hair so you send him to the bathroom to water it down a bit

he comes out with his hair all wet and dripping and over his eyes screaming

"um, kō... did you even dry your- your hair...? baby it's getting all over the floor"

"oh! oh yeah, sorry about that babe, i'll do that right now for you"

but you see a glint in his pretty golden eyes

the fucking brat

he shakes his head like a dog, hitting you with water and you squeal at him to "go use a towel, idiot!"

nonetheless, once you put him in pigtails, he takes a look at the grey and black sprigs coming out from his head in the reflection of his phone screen and can't help but let out a hearty laugh

"this is great y/n, do another one on me, wouldy'a?"

"wait, really?"

"yes! plus, you like this stuff, right? if you're having fun then make me beautiful, beautiful."

he lets you take a few pictures before you hand him your phone to look for other hairstyles, & he takes the phone with a quick kiss to your lips

he scrolls on your phone trying to find a new hairstyle to have you do as you start undoing the ponytails on his head. his hair dried a bit while the pigtails were in, so you run your hand through his hair and ruffle it up a little bit to get rid of the indent the hairties made.

"oh! what about this one," bokuto beams, holding up a pinterest pin of a manbun, "do you think i got enough hair for you to do it?"

you take your phone back to get a better look at it as bokuto tries to gather up as much of his hair in his two hands and hold it up in an... attempt at a manbun.

you look at him and feel laughter bubble up in your chest, but you manage to make out a, "well we can certainly try, kō."

"really? can we?" he smiles at you. you nod and bokuto dives in to kiss you through your giggling. after a moment, you feel the still-damp ends of his hair fall to brush against your forehead, as his hands go from holding his makeshift manbun up to gently holding the face of his one and only love.

︴kuroo tetsurō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

yeah no this loser definitely has a thing when it comes to people touching his hair

like a DEFENSIVE thing bc no one can convince me it's NOT the longest part of his morning routine

so it takes some convincing but he finally caves bc it's you the love of his life

"fine! but just this once!"

once again, gotta water down the gel

but this time he's like,,, weirdly embarrassed?? and shy?? and cute?? about the fact you're seeing him with his hair wet and undone like this

"baby you cannot tell anyone you saw me like this"

"aww but tetsu you look just as handsome like that"

"ok so we're lying now, i see how it is"

so you sit crossed-legged in front of each other on the floor, and you have him hold the comb and hairties

he sits there all pouty as he has to bend down a bit for you to reach his hair bc he's so tall end me

NO PICTURES!!! the bastard even tries to hide your phone

"tetsu! give it back!" you complain. you've crawled into his lap and yet his arm still holds your phone too high up and out of your reach. "i swear i won't post it anywhere–just one picture, please?"

"absolutely not!" he says through a chuckle. he cranes his neck up and uses your phone to look at his own reflection. he groans at the sight of his spikey locks sticking out from the two pigtails on his head.

"babe," he whines, "this is really messing with my self image."

"yeah right, as if the rest of you isn't literally perfect."

"not true! as long as my hair is concerned right now. but y'know what?" he finally brings your phone back down to his side but holds the side of your face with his free hand.

"what," you deadpan, before trying to quickly grab your phone back. but to your dismay, he holds it out behind his back and out of your reach once again as he continues.

"i'd feel a bit better if i could get a kiss. just a little one," he mumbles with that shit-eating grin you can't help but love, "who knows, maybe i'll feel so much better that i can give your phone back."

"and let me take a picture?" you ask hopefully.

he looks into your eyes and starts to caresses your cheekbone with his thumb, "well... that might depend on how good this kiss goes, yeah?"

least to say you got your photo, and then some other perks while you were at it.

︴sakusa kiyoomi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

"omi, i don't think i've ever seen you with your hair up–"

"i put it up when i have to clean."

"oh right!"

you just never noticed because he wears a little bandana on top of it too cutie pie

but when you ask to put his curls in two little pigtails it takes a little bit of convincing

no one's ever really touched his hair before

he's the biggest sucker for you though so eventually he lets you have your way with him

and surprisingly, he feels so loved having his hair played with by your beautiful self and you just look so cute as you do it and you talk to him about the most generic things that this guy starts to get antsy

like i'm talking hands all over your legs and waist as you're sitting in front of him and as he's starting at you with literal heart eyes

he just needs to hold you you're so adorable to him rn

you can really see his two beauty marks with his hair pulled up and you give them a little kiss when you're finished

"look at him komori," you coo, facing sakusa's phone camera toward him with his cousin on the other end of the line. you had called komori to show off your work, but sakusa couldn't care less as he clings to you now that you're finally finished doing his hair.

"wow cous', this is definitely a new look for you," the brunette giggles through the phone. sakusa tries to hide his face in your neck and groans,

"don't you have anything better to do, motoya? bye."

and with that, sakusa takes hold of your hand and hangs up the call on his phone.

"i quite like it, omi! your cousin agrees with me too," you tease. sakusa can't help but chuckle lightly as his arms wrap around your torso tighter. you can feel the smile creep onto his lips against the skin of your collarbone.

"yeah, whatever. we can do this more often, i guess," he sighs, "the you-playing-with-my-hair thing, not the my-cousin-being-involved thing, mind you."

︴azumane asahi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

omg shut up i will always have a soft spot for this man

ofc since his hair is very much on the long side, he already puts his hair up in a simple ponytail or the occasional manbun from time to time

so yes he agrees to the idea when you bring it up, even if it’s a different style than he’s accustomed to

he didn't think it was gonna be that much of a big deal, after all, he's tied his own hair thousands of times

what he didn’t realize, however, is how different the experience is when you’re the one combing your hands through his hair MMMM

he's absolute putty in your hands shut upppp

deliberately pulls out some strands so you have to sit there and play with his hair longer

"love i think you missed a spot."

"i literally saw you pull that piece out."

he’s between your legs on the floor as you sit on the couch, the volleyball highlights he was watching on his phone still running but now long-forgotten. he uncontrollably tilts his head back with every move you make as you run your hands along his hair, parting it and smoothing it down where necessary.

“‘sahi stop moving,” you giggle. all he can do is hum in bliss as you try to get his hair together amidst him leaning into your touch every other second.

"love, is the first one done yet?" he asks innocently, eyes closed, as if his scheming hasn't costed you an extra 20 minutes or so trying to fix his hair up.

"just keep watching your highlights and keep your head still!" you plea with a hairtie between your teeth, finally managing to gather one half of his hair into a ponytail. and just as you were ready to stretch the hairtie out and make the first loop around the bunch of wavy brown hair that you had in your hand, asahi just so happens to readjust how he's sitting beneath you, making some locks fall out from your grasp.

"asahi!" you let go off the hair and draw out a frustrated sigh. you can hear him chuckle as he leans his head against your thigh, turning his head to look up at you.

his hand is already guiding your dejected one back towards his hair, "oops, sorry angel. i guess you'll have to start all over again."

︴yamaguchi tadashi ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

how could he ever say no to you

i think esp senior captain!tadashi started on the habit of tying his hair back for games hot, so he actually does have a few hair ties on hand

but if you use hairties you KNOW he keeps some of yours on his own wrist in case you ever need one (🤭), even if not using them on your own hair like right now

he’s very well behaved as he sits on the toilet seat while you stand in front of him between his legs and get to work

the little piece of hair that sticks out from the top of his head is a pain in the ass tho

every time you think you've successfully smoothed it down, it springs back up again

meanwhile to pass the time, his hands rest on your hips as he asks you about your day, about what shows you’ve been watching recently—anything under the sun

"what happened then? tell me more sweetheart."

in the lulls of your conversation you can feel his thumbs lovingly glide back and forth along your hips im dying i love him

you stand behind yamaguchi in the cramped bathroom, him hunched over the sink as he observes himself and the new look you’ve given him.

you watch him through the mirror as he holds back a smile. his hand reaches about to touch the points at which the tips of his olive hear sprig out from the pigtails of your doing, his stomach peeking out from his worn out white tshirt as it lifts a little at the careful movements he makes.

he finally breaks the silence “yeah… i wouldn’t go out like this anytime soon.”

the two of you can’t help but burst out in laughter, at how ridiculous he looks and the ridiculous way you two have just passed the evening. the sound echoes along the tiled walls of the bathroom.

as your laughter dies down, yamaguchi turns and wraps those same arms that were poking at the pigtails in his hair, around your waist.

he pulls you close, “but they look good, love. maybe just not for me."

you look up at him and he swears he can see a universe of stars in your eyes, "you really think so tada? they were kind of rushed..."

"of course!" he leans his forehead to yours and touches his nose to yours, "maybe we can open a hair salon for you to hone your skills."

his comment makes you giggle, and he can't help but lean in closer to give your smiling lips a quick peck.

︴suna rintarō ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

you knew the only way you could achieve getting pigtails on this guy was by ambushing him

"zzz.."

so as he's dozed off on the bed, you slowly maneuver your way behind him

mf's a heavy sleeper so you eventually realize you actually don't have to be super gentle as you pull his hair into two little ponytails

his hair's already parted down the middle so it's pretty easy

goddamn is his hair silky smooth

you gotta ask for what products he uses bc holy shit why's he been gatekeeping them from you

i feel like his hair is long enough that actually they kind of sag down once you put them up in little curves coming out the top of his head like a bunny!!

but just as you're looping the hairtie one more time around the second pigtail, you accidentally pull on it a bit too hard and it quickly snaps against the top of his head ouch lmao

suna groans as he starts to shift and stir awake at the feeling of his head getting bonked. you have to restrain yourself from laughing as he absent-mindedly reaches back to see who it is that woke him up from his nap, hand slowly patting down your side. even through his sleepy haze, he can tell it's you and he lightly hums in contentment before turning around and engulfing you in his arms.

"sorry, rin, i didn't mean to wake you," you whisper.

for a brief moment as he's cuddling into you, he opens an eye to see your face. though you were trying hard to contain them, your laughter starts to escape between your upturned lips and suna's brows furrow in confusion. what's so funny?

he leans back again to find his phone on the bedside table and you watch as he catches a glimpse of his new hairdo before he can check the time.

all you hear is him mumbling something along the lines of, "you're something else," before he's plopping his phone down onto the sheets and he's tucking his head under your chin.

the two pigtails tickle your face like feathers as your ears begin to pick up on the sound of light snores as suna peacefully dozes off once again.

︴oikawa tōru ․﹒∗*○․﹒✧∘°  

i also think he has really silky hair duh but he's definitely shared what products he uses with you

in fact he asks that you use some of the products from his bathroom when you tie his hair

"gotta do these locks justice, baby."

the whole time he's got a little smile on his face, mf is having the time of his life–getting his hair done and being close with the most precious person in the world to him? uhhh YES

he highkey whines about you pulling at his hair tho

"owwiee"

"oh suck it up tōru."

offers to do your hair as well crying

very gentle as he combs through your hair, too!! shit's calming asf, him humming a little tune as you tell him about your day and he lovingly runs his hands through your hair

when he's done doing your hair you take selfies together on his phone

definitely makes one of them his new phone background

pigtails out of yours and oikawa's hair, you're cleaning up the products and hairties scattered across the bedsheets when you accidently brush over the screen of oikawa's phone. the screen lights up with one of the photos you just took with him: you both winking at the camera with pigtails sticking out from the tops of your heads. there's some digital stickers he selected scattered about the photo, as well (a lot of hearts and flowers). he's in another room getting the two of you a snack.

"tōru! can you come over here real quick?"

you hear the pitter-patter of his footsteps as he rushes back to you with chips and drink cans in his hands, "what's up, precious?"

his phone in your hand, you hold it up to him for the screensaver to appear again, "are you serious? did you have to pick this one?"

at that instant he doubles over in laughter, so much so he embraces his arms around your head and falls onto the mattress again, making you both lay down next to each other. he moves his hands to hold your face, "what, why such the long face? you don't like it?"

"no... it's just that everyone who picks up your phone is gonna see it now," you explain, starting to laugh yourself because this boy's laugh is irresistibly contagious.

he leans in to give butterfly kisses to your nose, "yeah, that's kind of the point my love. want everyone to know how happy i am when i'm with you. don't we look so happy in that picture?"

you roll your eyes and reach up to play with his hair again as you two lay there in love, "i guess. but i can't believe you look better in pigtails than i do!"

"i look good a lot of the time," he jokes. his eyes drift down to your lips and after a beat, he presses his lips to yours briefly.

"but not even i can be more beautiful as you are all of the time."

[savorypink]

need late sias!alex as a barista and u as the annoying customer who comes in during closing time. he angry fucks you in the bathroom cuz u annoy him

“cuz u annoy him” makes me giggle, but here you are anon!

“...and that’s why I stopped paying my taxes!” 

You speak into your phone’s speaker, swinging the doors of the small cafe open. Caught up in a conversation over the phone, you miss the scowl on the barista’s face as you saunter towards the counter. The lights of your favorite coffee spot have warmly dimmed, the minimal lighting enhancing the coziness of the atmosphere. This lighting, however, is an indication that closing time is near. To the dismay of the night shift barista, Alex, you have always made it your business to show up right before the doors close. Your horrible timing isn’t entirely your fault, though; 1) you’ve got things to do, 2) the cafe has become rather popular recently, and your patience isn’t the best. Why would you want to wait in line? 

Your conversation continues even when faced with the barista, completely ignoring the chairs sitting on the empty tables, the lemon scent of cleaning products breezing past your nose entirely. The barista’s cute, large doe eyes look up at you from the counter he’s wiping down with a bleach-stained rag; he doesn’t seem happy to see you. 

“Hold on just one second...” you say to the barista and your rambling friend on the phone. Digging into your bra, you pull out the crumpled-up bills and coins for your usual drink, all in exact change. You hand him the money with a warm, lip gloss-coated smile. You’ll see if he’s worthy of a tip. 

“You know what to do.” You finish with a wink before he takes the money out of your manicured hands. Your perfume's pleasant candy scent lingers when you turn your heel to the tables behind you, dizzying and addictive to his nostrils, but he scowls as soon as you pick up a chair. Plopping down, you continue entertaining your friend on the phone, and you aren’t quiet about it.

“Yeah, I’m at the cafe now. It’s so cute!” you squeal. “You should totally hit it up sometime. Make sure the Elvis-looking guy makes your drink, though. He’s the best.” 

Your words wash away the barista’s annoyance as he prepares your drink, knowing your preferences like strings on a guitar, pure muscle memory. Your loud mouth quickly tarnishes this somewhat peaceful moment.

“It’s the ginger-haired girl you gotta watch out for. Ugh, she’s the worst! Can’t make a drink for shit. And guess what? I found a hair in my muffin! When I flipped out on her, she kept saying, ‘Calm down,’” You do perhaps your worst impression of the nasally lady, “and she was like, ‘Do you want another muffin?’ No! I want my money back, Ed Sheeran!”

Your friend on the other line laughs alongside you, a bubbly yet ear-piercing cackle that makes Alex almost crush the mixer in his hands. His brain bounces from wanting to hear your laughter again to shutting you up with a kiss. As your gums continue flapping, you allow your eyes to examine the barista behind the counter. His backside is as cute as his front, the lean muscle of his shoulders contracting under his white t-shirt, strong arms flexing as he scoops up the ice and pours it into the mixer. You put a gelled nail between your teeth as you watch him, shifting in your seat as your panties become uncomfortably wet.

“Hey! Are you still there?” Your friend calls on the other line.

“Yeah!” Your cheeks warm up at the interruption, “Like I said, make sure Elvis makes your drink. You’ll know exactly what he looks like. If his back is turned, just look for the one with the cute butt.”

Alex is thankful his back is turned, your words tinting his face a rosy red. The silver bell on the counter dings once your drink is prepared. You don’t bother putting the chair back as you approach the counter. You thoroughly look through the transparent cup, ensuring the amount of ice and the number of dried fruit is accurate; you have no notes. Taking a sip, you let the liquid linger on your tongue before swallowing. Cold, sweet, and punchy; you couldn’t ask for more. You reenter your bra, dig out some change, and place it into the tip jar near the register. Your sunny, warm smile conflicts with the barista’s snowy, freezing shoulder.

“Thanks, Alan!” 

“Alex.”

Your eyes dart to the pastry case behind him, a croissant drizzled with chocolate catching your eye. “How much for that croissant? It looks tasty…”

“For you? Free of charge.” He’s more concerned with getting you out of here before you give him gray hairs. 

“Wow, really?” you beam in amazement. “You’re so kind! Alan, you’re the best! You’re way nicer than that ginger chick who tried to poison me. Ugh, she doesn’t work here anymore, does she? So unprofessional. She’d be better at scrubbing toilets than making drinks.”

Alex smirks at your remarks as he hands you the pastry in a white paper bag. “You mean my boss?”

“That’s your boss?” You immediately take the pastry out of the bag, biting into the flaky treat. “She’s in the wrong line of work if you ask me!” 

“Oh, yeah? Do tell.”

Your mouth moves before you can detect the sarcasm in his voice. You’re oblivious to the flakes falling into your shirt, decorating your cleavage as you continue munching and talking. Alex second-guesses giving you a napkin before handing you a few from the dispenser. If he didn't, he’d have more reason to stare at your chest. Flakes and chocolate stain the corners of your mouth and lip, and he hates to admit it, but you’re looking very…cute.

“Anyway,” you finish, wiping yourself clean, “You should totally be running this place, Alan. It doesn’t hurt that you’re super hot, too. Just work on the resting bitch face, and you’ll be amazing!”

Your final comment digs painfully into his skin, and it’s a shame. He was starting to like you.

“You’re too pretty to be talking with your mouth full,” Alex crosses his lean arms over his chest. “ I could teach you proper etiquette if you’d like. I’m a tough teacher, though. Be warned.”

Offended, you blink wildly before smiling at the compliment he snuck into his invitation. You gladly accept.

“You think I’m pretty?”

---

The cold marble of the bathroom sink raises the tiny hairs on your skin. You claw at it to no avail, sheepishly bent over the sink with your thong and velour tracksuit pants hugging your ankles. The empty bathroom echoes a slapping sound, a mixture of wetness and the noise of your ass against Alex’s relentless hips. His cock drives in and out of you at a brutal pace; each thrust angrier than the next. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” his large palm comes down on your ass with a vicious spank. “Come on…you were mouthin’ off about a muffin just a minute ago.”

Your cunt gushes at his words, the tight walls of your core needily squeezing him in a vice grip. Lust clouds your brain, unable to form a witty comeback to his statements, your weak moans becoming a new language. Before you lay your head on the marble, Alex fists your hair in a ponytail, tugging you upwards to face the mirror. Ignoring the messy reflection, you allow your eyes to roll into your skull, heat beginning to pool in your stomach, his cock hitting the right spots repeatedly and harshly.

“We’ll figure out a use for your mouth in the next lesson. You're doing a great job at taking me, muffin.”

[butcherlarry]

Weekly Fic Recs 66

Before the fic recs, it is my duty as a Superbat fan to do a plug for Superbat Week 2024! It will run during the week of September 9th-15th. Submissions for prompts will be going out soon too! Click the link for more details and to follow the blog for updates :)

Ok, plug over, now onto the fics!

gauntlet by pomeloquat @pomeloquat - Superbat, complete. An omegaverse fic. Clark has to fight a nest of children to spend some quality time with his mate, Bruce.

You Must Be This Conscious to Ride by justbeyondstars and motleyfam @motleyfam - Batfam, complete. Part of the Settle Our Bones series. The after math of a not so fun day at the amusement park

Waking Up to a New Beginning by Elegitre @elegitre - Batfam, complete. Bruce gets hurt while Batman-ing. He wakes up to a Robin snuggling on his chest. It's super adorable :D

long black line by shipyrds @burins - Batfam, complete. A look at Bruce and Dick's relationship through the lens of an early morning call. The last couple of paragraphs were my favorite part, just Dick having an imaginary conversation with Bruce, the misinterpretations they would have with the words they say, and all the feelings that come with it.

silent running by TheResurrectionist @frownyalfred - Batfam, complete. There is a crack on the Bat Cave floor and Jason wants to know why and what Clark has to do with it.

You Saw Nothing by rotasha - Superbat, complete. Two times Ollie has walked in on Bruce and Clark in compromising positions :)

The Problem With Clark Kent by vectacular @lenreli - Superbat, complete. Clark comes back from Warworld looking like...that. This does not help Bruce's sanity, especially after Clark moves in with him. Shenanigans ensue :))))))))))

sugarcoated by pomeloquat - Superbat, complete. Superman calls Batman a variety of cute, sugary nicknames. It sometimes gives members of the Justice League physic damage (especially Hal).

Rocking Chairs by Shirokokuro @shirokokuro - Batfam, complete. Tim learns what rocking chairs are used for. Hurt/comfort fics my beloved <3 There is also some lovely art of this fic from @saint0psy !

fragile by kontent - Superbat, complete. A wing fic! Clark bleaches his wings to hide their otherworldly nature. Bruce comes up with a better solution for him :)

so far (from their graves) by wednesday - Superbat, complete. This takes place right after the big fight with Steppenwolf in the Justice League movies. The is a lot of clean up to do after the fight, but Bruce is Tired. Clark is there to help :)

To Let You Forget My Face by Violet138 @violent138 - Superbat, complete. Bruce and Clark reminisce on the times they met before they were Batman and Superman (and dating).

Patchwork Pod by Ktkat9 @ktkat99 - Superbat & Batfam, wip. More of the mer Bruce fic! Cass gets a better understanding of Clark and his family. Tim is still going through it (please pray for my boy and his spleen).

If there is anyone I missed tagging, please let me know so I can update the list!

Happy reading!

[differenteagletragedy]

More Our Life headcannons

-- Cove went through a pretty intense Pokemon obsession when he was a kid, like 10 or 11. Played the video games, collected cards, watched the show, everything. He always picks a water starter. Squirtle is his favorite of all time, and he gets a little bummed when he evolves it.

-- During this phase, he wanted to go as Ash for Halloween. He wanted you to do a matching costume and he was Very Excited about it. If you didn't get as into it, he at least made you watch the show with him some.

You: Ok, I'll be Brock/Misty.

Cove: What? No, you'll be Pikachu.

Cove: *smug grin* I choose you.

-- Even if you end up married with a bunch of kids, together for decades, he will still never believe he pulled off that line.

-- If this is too much Pokemon for you, that's ok, this one is for me.

-- BAXTER WITH A BUZZCUT

-- By the time he decided he was done with the black and white hair, he'd been just bleaching the hell out of it for years (it is also my belief that he would literally rather drop dead than have his roots show at this time in his life). He went to his stylist and asked to go all black, but his hair was just fried and that's a whole process, so they convinced him to just buzz it off and start fresh since he doesn't wear his hair super long anyway.

-- He was hesitant, but hoped it might give him a fresh start (it did not). He never kept it that short, but he did feel like a bit of a bad boy while he had it.

-- Derek's parents eventually apologized to him for how much they put on him as a kid. Like a formal, sincere apology. It was intense, everybody cried. He tried to shrug it off at first, saying he didn't mind and it wasn't a big deal, but his parents wouldn't let it go. It was a very cathartic moment for the Suarez family.

-- Cove can't cook or bake, but he can make a mean milkshake.

-- Baxter has a dermatologist that he sees on a very regular basis because he gets nervous about his moles. He always carries sunscreen.

-- I've said before that Derek can fix anything, but seriously, anything. Not just cars or leaky faucets or whatever, like computers and stuff too. If you have something that isn't working, nine times out of ten he can fix it.

[muzansfangs]

My dear readers, welcome to the “𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬” event. Since on August 29th I’m turning twenty-four, I have decided to host this small event.

• How does it work? Being a busy person and having my requests closed, I have already set up everything. I therefore hope you will just enjoy the works that are going to be part of this collection and let me know if you are satisfied with them.

• What does the event consist in? This post will work as a real Masterlist for the twenty-four one-shots I’m going to post. I’ve chosen twenty-four male characters from Demon Slayer and Bleach, pairing each and every one of them with a line of a song I have chosen.

• Are there any other infos you should be aware of? The works will all be written in the perspective of a female reader. The contents of the works can be smut, fluff or angst and, sometimes, the various generes will be combined. I will make sure to add all the details concerning the warnings about the triggering themes in every single post.

• Anything else? This is the complete list of the works I will gradually update. There is not a specific order, but I will add the links of the one-shots whenever I get to post one of them! Thanks for the attention, your perfectionist admin.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

• 505 — Gin Ichimaru x f!reader (ANGST + NSFW)

“In my imagination you’re waiting laying on your side, with your hands between your thighs”, Arctic Monkeys.

• BABYDOLL — Douma x f!reader (NSFW)

“When I meet your eyes, the devil, he wins”, Ari Abdul.

• IF I KILLED SOMEONE FOR YOU — Aizen Sosuke x f!reader (NSFW + ANGST)

“Would you love me more, if I killed someone for you?”, Alec Benjamin

• HEART LIKE YOURS — Sanemi Shinazugawa x f!reader (FLUFF)

“How could a heart like yours ever love a heart like mine?”, Willamette Stone

• ATLANTIS — Urahara Kisuke x f!reader (ANGST)

“ ‘Cause in my heart and in my head, I'll never take back the things I said”, Seafret

• UNTIL I FOUND YOU — Rengoku Kyojuro x f!reader (FLUFF)

“I was lost within the darkness but then I found her, I found you”, Stephen Sanchez

• FRIENDS — Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x f!reader (NSFW)

“Tell me we’re not just friends, this doesn’t make much sense, no”, Chase Atlantic

• SWEATER WEATHER — Renji Abarai x f!reader (FLUFF + ANGST)

“ ‘Cause it’s too cold for you here and now, so let me hold both your hands in the holes of my sweater”, The Neighbourhood

• BLUE JEANS — Muzan Kibutsuji x f!reader (NSFW)

“You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hop, but you fit me better than my favorite sweater”, Lana del Rey

• DAYLIGHT — Byakuya Kuchiki x f!reader (FLUFF + NSFW)

“Oh, I love it and I hate it at the same time. You and I drink the poison from the same vine”, David Kushner

• CARDIGAN — Tomioka Giyuu x f!reader (FLUFF)

“And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite”, Taylor Swift

• FUCK YOU IN MY HEAD — Shunsui Kyoraku x f!reader (NSFW)

“I got dirty wishes on my mind, but you will never ever know that I, I like to fuck you in my head”, Cloudy June

• BACK TO BLACK — Obanai x f!reader (ANGST + NSFW)

“We only said goodbye with words, I died a hundred times. You go back to her and I go back to, I go back to us”, Amy Winehouse

• WHERE’S MY LOVE — Ulquiorra Cifer x f!reader (ANGST)

“Ooh, does she know that we bleed the same? Ooh, don’t wanna cry but I break that way”, SYML

• ALL OF ME — Kokushibo x f!reader (FLUFF + NSFW)

“Cards on the table, we're both showing hearts, risking it all, though it's hard”, John Legend

• KISS ME — Haschwalth Jugram x f!reader (FLUFF + NSFW)

“And your heart’s against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck, I’m falling for your eyes but they don’t know me yet”, Ed Sheeran

• WHEN THE DARKNESS COMES — Shinjuro Rengoku x f!reader (FLUFF)

“When you're feeling lost I'll leave my love hidden in the sun, for when the darkness comes”, Colbie Caillat

• SAY SOMETHING — Ukitake Jushiro x f!reader (ANGST)

“And I will swallow my pride, you're the one that I love and I'm saying goodbye”, A Great Big World

• CAN’T HELP FALLING IN LOVE — Akaza x f!reader (FLUFF)

“Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you?”, Elvis Presley

• SHADOW PREACHERS — Zaraki Kenpachi x f!reader (NSFW)

“You make me wanna love, hate, cry, take, every part of you. You make me wanna scream, burn, touch, learn, every part of you”, Zella Day

• HUNGER — Yoriichi Tsugikuni x f!reader (FLUFF)

“Oh, love, let me see inside your heart, all the cracks and broken parts, the shadows in the light. There's no need to hide”, Ross Copperman

• ENJOY THE SILENCE — Shinji Hirako x f!reader (NSFW)

“All I ever wanted, all I ever needed is here in my arms. Words are very unnecessary, they can only do harm”, Depeche Mode

• BREAK MY HEART MYSELF — Uzui Tengen x f!reader (ANGST + NSFW)

“I don't need your help getting off of this carousel. I don't need anybody else, 'cause I can break my heart myself”, Bebe Rexha

• VILLAIN — Shuhei Hisagi x f!reader (NSFW)

“I'll be the villain tonight. I kinda like when you despise me after we fight”, Bella Poarch

[linkspooky]

Hey friend, beautiful metas, you are great at this. I would like to hear your opinion on the one who is the second best antagonist in Bleach for me, Yhwach. It's my favorite manga and I would like to hear the opinion of someone who could understand the message of his character and the final arc of TYBW which for me is also the best of the manga.

Yhwach's philosophy about a world without the fear of death has great value in the work for me and one of the things that makes it so interesting is how he somehow contrasts with Aizen in the arc of the arrancars. Both of them were wrong in their ideologies, and only realized it when they achieved exactly what they wanted. Aizen becoming an infinite existence, and Yhwach becoming a stagnant existence.

So, fun fact Ywach is my second favorite Bleach Antagonist now (not counting Ulquiorra because he's just a precious misunderstood little baby) but when I first read TYBW I didn't like him at all. It really took the anime for me to understand how plot important Ywach is to the story. I usually don't like saying this, but if you think Ywach is a badly written antagonist then you really just don't get him.

The thing is everyone says they want to have nuanced villains but it's okay to have antagonists who are just symbolic forces of nature. The true antagonists in Bleach aren't the bad guys, it's the inability of the ensemble casts to overcome their personal issues, or work together as a team. Bleach has really strong character conflict, it really feels like every character who gets screentime is on a journey that's symbolized by the progression of their powers, whether they be quincy, fullbringer, or Shinigami.l

Therefore it is okay for Ywach not to be a character with a backstory as deep and human as Shigaraki, because he's symbolic of the force of FATE that the main characters are fighting against. Which is why the best way to understand Ywach is by comparing him to Aizen, Bleach's best antagonist. More on that under the cut.

The Fraud vs. The Real Deal

So ironically just like the best way to understand Aizen is also by comparing him to Ywach. Everything Aizen tries to be, a force of fate, the controlling force in the narrative, the one who has everyone dancing on the palms of his hands Ywach just naturally is. Aizen tries to become divine through schemes and plots, Ywach was literally born divine. He doesn't need to call himself a god, everyone already calls him a god. The quincy gave him the name "Ywach."

Before we get deeper into their comparisons, I'm going to give an example of just how Aizen is a fraud. The reveal of Misaki's backstory in thousand year blood war really did salvage Aizen's character for me after I started to dislike him towards the end of Arrancar Arc.

There's a fine line to walk with mastermind characters. You have to ask yourself is the character genuinely smart, or is the author just moving things around in the plot and letting the villain have plot armor and plot convenience in order to make them appear smarter than they already are.

Aizen claimed that he'd had everything in the palm of his hand since Ichigo was born, and that was what made me officially call bullshit. Then, the Misaki backstory reveals that Aizen was in fact just bullshitting the entire time.

Aizen didn't actually engineer Ichigo's birth as he claimed. One of his experiments just happened to attack Ichigo's mom, and Aizen decided to stay back and observe the situation. Then he kept monitoring Ichigo to see if he would be useful later. Which is what Aizen does in general, he puts his fingers in a lot of people's pies and then is clever enough to push situations into his favor.

He claims to be an omniscient planner, but he's really just clever and good at improvising when random things like White attacking Ichigo's mother happen so he can turn those situations into his advantage. When Aizen claims "I had everything planned from the beginning" it's just another illusion he's using to try to control you, and characters who buy that are easy to manipulate.

Because Aizen is a fraud. That is literally his zanpakuto, making illusions that control the senses. Everything down to his zanpakuto the literal reflection of his soul is fraudulent. Aizen makes claims at godhood but he doesn't even believe what he's saying.

Aizen yells at Ulquiorra that people shouldn't accept the way the world is, that they should try to be gods if they have the ability to while at the same time Ichigo called him out that his true desire was to be just another soul reaper.

However, in the world of Bleach godhood isn't all it's cracked up to be. The closest thing to a god, the Reio, the lynchpin of the unvierse is a limbless being, sealed in a crystal, that was not only betrayed and backstabbed and brutally massacred by the shinigami who supposedly worshipped them he's also like completely helpless.

He's eternal and all powerful and the very being that holds the world together, and also all he can do is passively observe reality. Destroying the soul king is a mercy because it releases him from his eternal suffering.

This is where we finally reach Ywach, who is what everything Aizen pretended to be. Aizen had to rely on the Hogyoku entirely to give other people power, whereas Ywach naturally can gift the quincy with his power. Aizen wanted to become the soul king he was a mortal who tried to ascend to divinity.

Ywach is heavily implied to be the soul king's literal son. Unlike Aizen he can actually claim to be a divine being, and he's worshipped as one taking the name of the christian god.

Aizen claims to be behind Ichigo's every fight in the manga, while Ywach actually is behind Ichigo's every fight because he's been there all along, pretending to be Ichigo's zanpakuto spirit. Ywach as Zangetsu even admits this, he was limiting Ichigo from his true power while also convincing Ichigo he was an ally because he never wanted Ichigo to become a full fledged sorcerer since he's not only a fragment of Ywach but the embodiment of his quincy powers.

Ywach is responsible for ichigo's desire to protect others, because his decision to terminate all impure quincy killed Ichigo's mother. Ywach has been with Ichigo since birth, since all quincies carry a fragment of Ywach's power in them. When Ywach calls Ichigo his son, he's not bullshitting either, because Old Man Zangetsu the fragment of Ywach inside Ichigo was in a sense a mentor and a father figure to him.

Ywach is a force of nature, in this case he's fate. The same fate that Ichigo wanted to shatter with his sword. Unlike Aizen's claims to be in control he can actually back this up. He controls Ichigo to slay the soul king, and his literal ability "The Almighty" is to rewrite the future to bring whatever future he wants into being. He can peer into every possible future and see millions of possible variations fo the future like grains of sand and then just make the one he wants happen. He literally, creates fate.

However, as I said it's not actually a good thing to be god in Bleach. Ywach because he is divine, can't live in the world with everyone else because of his fear of death. He's terrified of death probably for two reasons, one because he existed in a world without death, he watched his own father get butchered in the worst way possible, and he was basically stillborn. He fears returning to the state he was at birth unable to itneract with the world. A state ironically that was much like his father when he was sealed in the soul palace.

He's also experienced the deaths of every quincy he gave his power to over and over again. So Ywach is the force of fate itself, but just like fate which cannot be controlled, Ywach is an entirely stagnant entity.

The exact opposite of Aizen who was someone who wanted to be just like every other soul reaper. It's why even though Aizen's a fraud, between the two of them Aizen is the ideological victor in the end.

Since Aizen was saved by Ichigo in a way. By giving him the worthy opponent that he always craved, Aizen was knocked back down by the pedestal he always stood on. He became just another soul reaper as he always wanted to be. That's why he was able to believe in humans in the end and give up his notions of becoming a god.

[guzmabuglord]

Think it’s bout time I introduce myself proper, eh?

okay. yo. I’m Guzma, hence the username. He/him pronouns 💯. I’m the strongest fuckin trainer in Alola and my favorite thing to do is beating down PUNKS with my dope-ass crew, Team Skull. Bug is the best type of pokemon, so i’ll prolly comment on your bug types if you got any of your own. (and you SHOULD.) You got any complaints about any of that, you talk to ME. also, i’ll try to update this if there’s ever anythin to add.

That’s all there is to say about me. Here’s a little bout my pokemon. None of em have names, but since ‘parently it’s common round here I might give em some eventually.

Golisopod’s my main man. my ace. been with me since I was a snot nosed punk myself. don’t play favorites with my guys but he’d be my favorite if I did. He’s real scary to other people but he’s chill when he ain’t battling.

Scizor’s always full of energy, which is real nice considerin how I found him. Don’t really know what happened with him, but he’s gotta lot of sun bleaching and scratches on his exoskeleton. He’s a lot smaller than most Scizor, but he thinks he’s smaller and lighter than he is so he likes to lay on me.

Masquerain’s an odd one. started followin me one day and didn’t stop till I offered them a pokeball. Flies faster upside down, which is hella weird. I wake up to them starin me down sometimes?? Pals with my Ariados.

Pincir’s prolly my smartest. mold breaker’s damn useful on him and he likes it when it trips up people we’re fightin. Real menace. Helps me with sudoku sometimes which is kinda fuckin scary.

Vikavolt’s protective and real good at trackin folks down and gettin me places. He never forgets a face or a place, so he’s my livin map. He likes bein scratched on the outside of his mandibles.

Ariados is real stocky and level headed, so he balances Masquerain out. His old trainer was real fuckin nasty to him so I beat him down and he gave me Ariados. he’s still kinda independent and makes his own webs to sleep in sometimes.

Joltik’s not one I bring out to battle, but I found her with Vikavolt. think they’re family so I had to get em both. she’s real sweet and I spend time with her sometimes when it’s real late and I can’t sleep. Gives me static electricity shocks by accident sometimes.

Venipede’s pretty new. got it on here a few weeks back from my pal Dashy. ‘pparently some bad guys dumped it at zeir gym door, so i’m tryna help it feel better for the time being. It’s real fast, and it goes for walks with me and Golisopod. Thinkin it might evolve sometime, so tryna prepare for that.

Just got a Nymble egg in the mail, so i’ll prolly be gettin one of those soon enough. Real hyped for it!

speakin of. If it’s needed, send any bug types needin care my way. Got plenty of space.

…One more thing. I’m the BEST fuckin bug type trainer out there, dammit. Remember that.

((OOC INFO UNDER THE CUT!))

hi!! 👋 welcome to my guzma rp blog. this is mostly me just having a little fun with this guy i care about a lot <3 here are some notes though!

- ANON HATE WILL NOT BE TOLERATED! i am fine with people sending “mean” stuff to guzma for whatever reasons they have as he is a gang boss… but there’s obviously a clear line between that and genuine ooc hate. if you’re worried abt me misinterpreting you feel free to add a note or anything!! :3

- this blog is meant to be guzma experiencing tumblr/rotomblr as an application! so i won’t be doing “traditional” roleplay from this guy, sorry :[

- mod is a minor! don’t send 18+ stuff please. (mod is he/him)

- INTERACT!!! interact with anything and everything that isn’t listed as a no-no above!! i LOVE talking to you guys and responding to your asks!!

thanks for reading :3! have a bugterful day

[gloomysoup]

when the world stops turning (my heart stops beating) - pt. 2

so i decided not to be TOO mean and keep writing this... there will be at least one more part, maybe more, i haven't decided yet. honestly i'm just playing it by ear and seeing how far my brain chooses to take it. so here we go!!

ao3 pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

cw: drugs, drug abuse, illusions to overdose, minor character death, dissociation, hospitals, illusions to child neglect (i think that's it but please let me know if i missed anything)

Eddie hated hospitals.

He sat in the waiting room with his bandmates and their tour manager, thinking about the first time he ever had to go to the hospital.

He was seven years old. His mom had been self-medicating really badly again, floating through their house like a ghost. Pale and lifeless in a way she often was those days. His dad was always out of the house, claiming he was working. Eddie had always been suspicious of that, never sure exactly what kind of work he was doing. His dad never said what his job was, but Eddie knew he had a long history with criminal activity. Wayne had taken him out to the park that day for a couple hours in an effort to get him out of the house.

The nearby park had this line of trees by the pond, set off several feet from the playground itself. Eddie liked to climb those trees when he was a kid. He liked the way the bark felt, digging sharply into his palms. He liked feeling the wind blow, the leaves brushing against his face. It made him feel free. The scary parts of the world couldn't reach him in the treetops. Earthly fears stayed near the ground, tethered to the dirt while he put as much distance between them as he could. Wayne had warned Eddie not to climb too high. Eddie should've listened.

He climbed a few branches up on the tallest tree. His favorite tree to climb. He sat on one of the thicker branches, back against the trunk. He watched the leaves waving in the wind above him. His brain still itched with ground thoughts, so he climbed higher. He kept going until he wasn't worried about his mom anymore. He kept going until his head was blissfully empty of those stupid anxieties. He was finally free.

And then he was falling.

Eddie doesn't remember much of what happened. Wayne says a branch broke unexpectedly, giving way beneath his weight with a loud snap. He hit the ground and passed out. Wayne took him to the hospital, where the doctors said he was lucky. A fall like that and all he had was a broken arm. They put his left arm in a cast and kept him for a few hours of observation, just to be safe. They were worried about a brain injury, or internal bleeding. Wayne called his mom, to let her know what happened, but Eddie always assumed she was too drugged out to understand. She never showed up. Wayne stayed with him the whole time, trying to keep him entertained and distracted. The doctor had given Eddie something to help with the pain, but it didn't help with his dislike of hospitals. He hated sitting in a sterile, white hospital room. His nose burned with the smell of bleach and lemon-scented floor cleaner. He didn't know why they used that stuff. It was overwhelming. He couldn't escape the ground thoughts if he was tethered to the ground.

Once he was finally released, Wayne took him to the pharmacy to pick up his new prescription. Pain meds; take one as needed while the break heals— those mysteriously went missing only three days later, and Eddie suffered in silence from then on. Then Wayne took him home, where his mom was asleep on the couch and his dad was fuming. Eddie vaguely remembers laying in his bed while Wayne and his dad argued in the living room. He isn't sure what they argued about; Wayne never told him and always changed the subject if Eddie asked. He assumed it was about the hospital. Hospital bills aren't cheap.

He wasn't allowed to visit his mom when she was in the hospital. Wayne said she needed space to get better. He knows Wayne just didn't want him around all of that. The hospital always kept him from his mom in one way or another. And then there was the spring of ‘86. It only further solidified his hatred of hospitals. Confined to the lumpy, scratchy hospital bed for weeks. Beeping machines and lemon-scented floor cleaner. Sticky patches and wires that always tangled. Itchy IVs and sharp needles and drugs that made him float just on the edge of too far. He didn't like those. Reminded him too much of his mom.

And now here he was, sitting in the dull waiting room of a hospital in New York. He felt numb. Tears still rolled silently down his cheeks, though he wasn't sure how he had any left. He was completely unaware of the passage of time. It could've been minutes or days, and he wouldn't have noticed. He couldn't stop thinking about his mom. He hadn't thought about her this much in years.

“Eddie?” He looked up at Gareth, but he was barely seeing him. “I'm going to go call Wayne, let him know what's happening. Do you want to come talk to him?”

Eddie blinked slowly a few times, his eyes still glassy. He didn't answer. All he did was stare, unseeing and silent. Gareth sighed, shooting Jeff and Grant a look.

Jeff frowned, also standing. “I should call Robin. She should know too.”

“Go,” Grant said, nodding toward the phones. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Their tour manager was talking to a nurse a few feet away. Eddie couldn't hear what they were saying. He didn't know how this could've happened. He didn't understand how he missed this.

His thoughts wandered back to the day Wayne found out he was selling.

Eddie sat on the front step, watching Wayne and Hopper talking in the yard. Wayne was frowning, nodding along to whatever Hopper said. Eddie knew he was mad. Why wouldn't he be? Eddie was illegally selling drugs, and just got caught by the chief for it. Luckily, Hopper was in a good enough mood just to give him a warning and a ride home. Made him promise he wasn't going to do it anymore. They both knew that was a lie.

When Hopper got back in his cruiser and drove away, Eddie watched Wayne take a breath before he turned around. Eddie shrank back at the look his uncle gave him.

“Wayne, I-”

“Hush up.” Eddie shut up instantly. “You're gonna listen close, understood?” Eddie nodded. “Jim was kind enough to let you off this time, but he won't be next time. There better not be a next time.”

“But, Wayne, I-”

“No buts.” Wayne gave him another look. Eddie knew he was disappointed. He hated disappointing Wayne. Hated it even more than he hated making Wayne mad. His uncle had always done so much for him. The least he could've done was not cause trouble. “Drugs are a dangerous thing, Ed. I know you know that.”

He did know, is the thing. He knew better than most people just how dangerous drugs were. Drugs tore his family apart. Drugs killed his mother. Drugs were the main reason Eddie lived with Wayne at all.

Eddie looked down at his hands, fiddling with one of his rings. He didn't have all that many yet. “I just wanted to help with the bills,” he said softly.

Wayne sighed and sat next to him on the rickety steps. Eddie slid over to make room. “You ain't gotta worry ‘bout no damn bills, Ed. That's for me to take care of. You just gotta be a kid.”

Eddie frowned. “I just thought that, maybe, if I could help, you wouldn't have to work so hard. I know taking care of me is a lot of extra money.” He paused. “I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment.”

Burden. That's what he wants to say. Disappointment is what comes out. Maybe that's for the better.

“You're not a disappointment, Ed. I just don't want you endin' up like your mama, that's all. And while I do appreciate you wantin’ to help, I don't need ya to. I'm perfectly capable of takin’ care of us. You're fifteen, Ed. Be a kid, for Christ’s sake. Don't worry ‘bout anythin’ else yet.”

From that day on, Eddie stayed away from anything harder than weed or the occasional shrooms. He made a promise to himself that he'd stay away from it. For Wayne. For his mom. Wayne knew he kept selling, but they didn't talk about it. The K he intended on selling Chrissy that fateful night was a fluke. A one-off. It was something extra Rick had given him before he got locked away. Eddie hadn't even intended on selling it at all; he was just going to keep it hidden away until Rick got out, and then he'd give it back.

After Chrissy, Eddie didn't touch anything for a long time. When the band got themselves a record deal, when they started going out to parties to network with more of the industry, Eddie started smoking weed again. He never touched anything more than that. He knew better. He worried about his bandmates falling to the same vices that killed his mom, even though they also stayed away from it. Her ghost still haunted him. It kept him hypervigilant. He was always watching for addictive behaviors.

So how did he not see it?

How long had Steve been falling down that path without Eddie even knowing?

He should've known.

Eddie blinked, and Gareth was standing in front of him with a bottle of water. When had he come back?

“Eddie, you gotta drink something,” Gareth said gently, holding the open bottle toward him. Eddie pulled his knees tightly to his chest and shook his head. Gareth sighed and sat next to him in the uncomfortable hospital chairs.

That was another thing Eddie hated about hospitals. Everything was uncomfortable. The chairs, the beds, the wires and tubes. IVs itched and the gowns crinkled weirdly. It was a sensory hellscape, truthfully. How did anyone handle it?

“Eddie.” He blinked again, looking beside him. Gareth was still holding the bottle toward him. “Come on, man. At least a little bit. We're worried about you.”

Eddie took the bottle, but his hands were shaking so much he could barely keep a grasp on it. He forced it toward his mouth, his throat burning as the cool water slipped past his lips. He gave it back to Gareth. He looked like he wanted Eddie to drink more, but took the bottle anyway.

“Are you…” Gareth started, but his sentence fell off as he seemed to search for the correct word. “Obviously not okay. That'd be stupid. Of course you aren't okay. I don't know what I was even thinking.” He looked over at Eddie, his rambling cut off.

Gareth always rambled when he was anxious. Worried. It didn't happen all that often. Gareth was pretty laid back, never worked up about much. The exact opposite of Steve. Steve worried about everything. Steve rambled a lot, like Robin. God, Robin. Eddie should talk to her. They hadn't had time lately to call. She was probably worried. Eddie could easily bet she'd been rambling a lot lately. Then again, Robin always rambled. She wasn't like Gareth, who only rambled when he was worried about something or someone. Speaking of Gareth, he was sitting there staring at Eddie with that worried little pinch in his brows. Eddie should answer. He should, but he can't. His tongue feels like lead in his mouth. It won't form shapes or push air through his lips. It won't do anything it's supposed to do. It just sits there, heavy, making it impossible for Eddie to say something, anything.

“Eddie?” Gareth waved a hand in front of him. Eddie blinked. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

Eddie thought hard. Gareth’s mouth had definitely been moving just a few moments before, but anything after the ramble was lost on him. He had no clue what he had said. He shook his head. Gareth sighed.

“I talked to Wayne.”

Oh. Wayne.

God, Eddie didn't know how to feel about that. On the one hand, he needed Wayne. The man was a solid figure in the storm of Eddie’s life. He had always been there. He never walked away like Eddie’s dad. Eddie wanted little more than to curl up on the lumpy couch with Wayne like he had after his mom died. On the other hand, Eddie didn't want Wayne to know about any of this. He didn't want Wayne to have to live through this again. He didn't want Wayne to feel like he had to deal with Eddie again.

“He said he’ll try to catch the next flight out.”

Eddie’s head snapped up, eyes wide. He quickly shook his head back and forth, so hard that his neck popped and his hair flung across his face. Wayne couldn't come. He shouldn't have to. He would have to call out of work. Wayne never calls out of work. Eddie didn't want to be the reason he started. He opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. He couldn't force his tongue to move. His lips failed to form the letters and syllables required to speak.

It was then that their tour manager approached, looking somber. Like he had bad news. Eddie wanted to be anywhere else. He wanted to go back; back to when things were simple and Steve wasn't dying. He wanted to go back to being a kid and stop his mom. He just wanted this to stop.

“Eddie, he's alive.”

Eddie hated that instead of being relieved, his heart crumbled.

Steve was alive, but at what cost?

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

tag list: @acowardinmordor @mugloversonly @djohawke @hallucinatedjosten @geekyfifi @current-steddie-brainrot

i tagged people who either asked to be tagged or showed interest in wanting more but lemme know if you wanna be added! like i said, there will be at least one more part, but probably more than that tbh

hope you've enjoyed !!

[recurring-polynya]

In the years since I've been running this blog, I've made a lot of jokes about Renji's seemingly ill-thought-out plan of:

Beat Captain Kuchiki

???

Profit Be with Rukia again

but I was looking at his volume poem the other day, and I think that I am an idiot, and beating Byakuya has never been connected to seeing Rukia again. It's a smokescreen. He does have an actual, actionable plan of training and working hard enough to become a vice-captain (specifically Byakuya's vice-captain), and then approaching Rukia again as her social equal. We know that beating Byakuya wasn't a key component of that, because he was planning to do it as soon as she got back from her mission.

The thing about defeating Byakuya is that Renji is purposely setting his sights a few degrees to the left of the truth to keep from falling into depression and despair. Trying to get Rukia back is a thing that he can try to do and fail, and in fact, he very well may. Beating Byakuya is impossible. No one believes he can really do it, least of all himself, which means, paradoxically, he can't lose. When you fail to do the impossible, you can shrug and say, "well, it was impossible, what did you expect?

I mean, it's right there in the poem: "I am going to focus on reaching the unreachable because if I think about Rukia, I am going to kill myself." And I don't think Renji is a guy who has a suicidal bent--the fact that he pursues this line of thinking is proof of that. But what is the difference between a person who thinks about killing themself and someone actively works to not to...? I don't know. It's complicated.

One of the most fundamental themes of Bleach is the idea that Hollows are fallen souls who lose their hearts and eat other souls in order to ease their pain, but they only end up creating more Hollows in the process except that we see examples again and again of shinigami pulling this exact shit (Byakuya, I am looking at you). I cannot figure out if Renji's drive to distract himself from the pain of losing Rukia is a play to avoid falling into monstrosity, or if it's pretty much a direct route. I mean, this is basically exactly the path that Gin and Tousen take--which makes it all the more interesting to me that Aizen rejects Renji as unsuitable for his conspiracy.

I can't put my finger on any particular thing that separates Renji from other characters in this respect, aside from maybe his fundamental Renji-ness-- the fact that he has other friends and connections? That he has hope, no matter how dim, that he may actually reunite with Rukia some day? That he's just a guy who reaches for life instead of death? (Mildly off-topic, but if there is one other character that this is also true of, I think it might be...Matsumoto???)

Anyway, another thing I like about setting himself against an impossible goalpost is that this would be a terrible idea for a human with a finite lifespan, but shinigami have all the time in the world. Go ahead, pal, pursue your impossible tasks, live your truth! I read a lot of stories about semi-immortal beings, and I love love love it when they seem very human and then they do some batshit insane thing that makes you realize, oh, they very much are not.

My favorite way to break my own heart is re-reading the "Fate is a Millstone" chapter, where we learn that Renji was a hair's-breadth away achieving his real goal of talking to Rukia again, only to have Fate throw him a face-full of pocket sand. I think it's extra salt in the wound, to be honest, if he's been pursuing the impossible goal of beating Byakuya as a distraction for all these years, only to arrive at a place where Rukia's life literally hinges on him beating Byakuya, a thing which is not just theoretically impossible, but something Renji has spent 40 years becoming intimately familiar with just how impossible it is.

[contributingtothechaos]

Saw The Outsiders musical yesterday and thought I'd share my notes app rambles I wrote on the ride home after. These are just my favorite parts I'll make a separate one abt the things I missed/didnt like if anyone wants it. Spoilers below the cut

everything I loved abt it

• Intro almost exactly like in book

• Amazing singing from everyone

• The understudy who it was her first show was so good for her first time 

• The music was based off accurate music style for the time folk, bluegrass, Americana, rock

• They actually said fuck instead of "and than he said some words which aren't appropriate to print" or something like that

• Dallas>>>

• The slow motion was so so cool

• Repurposed the car for everything. Bed, table, concessions stand

• The girl greaser was great and really funny, could tell she was strong and had funny lines

• Drove a second car on stage??? Need to figure out how. Very cool

• Actually projected the movies onto back

• Reminded me of newsies alot

• The drowning scene actually insane

• The pounding sound when they were drowning him and the slo mo fighting from everyone else>>>

• The ringing every time he got knocked out 

• THE FAKE BLOOD oml

• Dude the party when they went to find dally was sorta crazy

• Dally is such a mom he's amazing

• The boards and tires for the train!!!

• Using the boards and tires so well for everything!!!

• Omfg the way they showed jonny's parents fighting projected shadows on the window

• The broken church window <3

• Ponyboy's hairrrrr nooooo the bleach blond😭😭😭

• THE LETTER FROM SODA OH MY GOD SO SAD, SUCH A GOOD SONG

• The smoke over the whole stage during the fire

• THE REAL ASS FIRE

• the way they use the boards and tires as a hospital bed

• OH MY FUCK THE FIGHT

• IT WAS SO COOL

• THE SLOW MOTION

• THE FLASHING LIGHTS

• THE WAY THEY ACTUALLY HAD IT "RAINING" ON THE STAGE

• THE MOVES TIMES WITHTHE FLASHING

• THE WAY THEY MAKE IT LOOK LIKE FIGHTING AND DANCING AT THE SAME TIME 

• hey hey hey what the hell was stay gold? That's what got me to start tearing up fr

• WHEN JONNY DIED

• all their reactions had me tearing

• WHAT THE FUCK DALLAS

• that train scene definitely didn't get me as hard as the book but it still hit

• THE FUCKING ENDING OF LITTLE BROTHER WHAT THE HELL

• DUDE THE TIME THEY DID SODA THE MOST JUSTICE WAS IN THAT SCENE WHERE PONY AND DALLY WERE FIGHTING 

• THATS WHEN I ACTUALLY STARTED CRYING WAS SODA YELLING AT THEM

• cherry bringing the letter from Jonny oml

• Them forgiving each other amd eating dinner together>>>>

• Him saying he started writing a story and letting darry read the beginning of it, it being the beginning of the book was so great

• And the the reprise with the last words of the book was so good

• All the other actors leaving the stage after bows and then ponyboy doubling back and grabbing green beans off the table and eating them idk just funny to me

• The actors were so nice outside and so was the crowd I was holding by playbill up in like the back of the crowd of like 20 ppl and he had ppl pass it up for me

• They were all nice and took pictures I felt bad and didn't want to crowd them or follow them it they were trying to leave

• Sodapops actor having a Soda bottle tattoo that I'm not sure was fake or to commemorate his first Broadway role. Also had the hat Soda wears in movie

[rebellionsuite]

loki season two is starting to be promoted and here’s your reminder NOT to watch it

the loki show did damage to not only loki’s character as a whole, but to bisexual and genderfluid people as well.

for years, loki has been a comic character that is well known for their bisexuality and genderfluidity. a huge component to this was the ‘loki: agent of asgard’ series written by al ewing (a personal favorite of mine). many queer people opened up their arms to welcome this representation. had i known i was bisexual at the time that mcu loki was my favorite character ever, i just know i would’ve been ecstatic, which i was when the first looks at season one came out.

the first red flag should’ve been when it was revealed that in loki’s tva files, his sex was labeled as “fluid” when it’s actually his gender. i remember people being skeptical and wary about it but continued to hope for the representation that the cast promised in interviews beforehand. (if anyone is able to find which interview this was in, please let me know so i could link it.)

then as the series went on for the next six weeks, hopes of there being representation dwindled. there was the line of “a bit of both” when sylvie asked if loki courted princes or princesses and he assumed it was the same for sylvie, which was SOMETHING at the time! people were happy… for the first few days or so. we quickly realized that this was probably disney’s way of telling but never showing considering their infamous prejudice against lgbt+ rep. it was quite literally the bare minimum — a throwaway line so to say that could easily be forgotten by the average viewer. i recall that lots of people were huge shippers of loki x mobius and thought that maybe, just MAYBE, there would be something more explicitly romantic between them and hey, maybe there will be in season two! but it’s disney. you can understand that there’s not a whole lot of hope.

then comes loki’s genderfluidity. to start off, the whole existence of sylvie is the most damaging. in agent of asgard, loki has confirmed that no matter how she presents, she is always loki. there’s no “female/lady loki”, it’s all JUST loki. so to change up loki’s name, bleach her hair, and contradict whether or not she IS actually loki throughout the show is… questionable.

the line of “have you ever met a woman variant?” was just insane writing. all lokis can identify/present as women if they please!!! their shapeshifting abilities give them an advantage of presentation being easy for them, but all in all, every single loki can canonically identify as a woman. when that line was delivered, all the other loki variants looked confused as if they didn’t know. loki’s genderfluidity was never at the forefront of the writers’ minds, writers that were caught to be fucking weirdos on twitter! you can find what old tweets i’m talking about on twitter… but i digress. why would the loki variants not know such an integral part of their identity?

and the KISS. THE FUCKING KISS. we’re not angry that loki kissed a female-presenting character instead of mobius like many wished, no no no that’s not the big issue because bisexuals should never have to prove their bisexuality to anyone and they can kiss whoever the hell they want. we’re angry because loki kissed a female-presenting variant of HIMSELF. all throughout the first season, the writers went out of their way to try to differentiate sylvie from loki despite sylvie having been born as a loki variant, but there’s literally no way to separate sylvie from their lineage because at the end of the day, that’s who she was born as. no amount of bleach will change that fact. (i hope i made this easy to understand; not a lot of people get why this is an issue.) and regardless of whether or not that kiss was romantic, the fact that it even HAPPENED was a slap in the face to genderfluid fans of loki, and if the leaks for season two are right, that whole thing between the two will be continued since most of the season one writers worked on season two as well.

on top of this awful rep, known abuser jonathan majors will be in season two as another kang variant. i’ve heard that marvel had bigger plans for him, but due to these allegations, they’re limiting his presence as seen in the trailer, obviously meaning that they know.

hence why i ask fans to boycott/simply not tune in for season two if you care about queer people. if you’re desperate to watch, at least don’t use disney+. just because s2d is gone doesn’t mean other websites don’t exist. i also recommend reading ‘agent of asgard’. if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask me and please be respectful; your feelings about the show don’t dictate how hundreds of others feel, especially if their concerns are valid.

[inkabelledesigns]

Fixing dolls with glue hair is a lot, and I really don't like doing it. XD But yesterday I made an effort to do another oxiclean treatment in my Way Too Wonderland dolls. This is maybe the fourth time I've done it on some of them? I've lost track. Most of them had excessively bad glue hair. But I am thrilled to say that we've almost got it! My Apple on the far left of the first picture still has a little glue, but one more treatment and I think she'll be okay. Apple is my favorite from this line, so it's gonna be all the more satisfying to have her fixed up. But everyone else I think is ready for hair styling and to be dressed up for display! This is my favorite Ever After High line, and I'm so excited I'll finally be able to have them all up!

Briar needs some repairs in terms of getting some body blushing. I made the mistake of not taking off her head when I did one of these treatments, so it got a little bleached, but I'm confident I can fix it. You may be wondering why I have two Apples and why Blondie is here. Well, for Apple, I actually got an incomplete doll back in my early days of collecting, but then I got another for a good price that was less damaged, save for the glue. X'''D So I have two. Contemplating doing a repaint for her, that could be fun. As for Blondie, I know Just Sweet Blondie Locks isn't a part of Way Too Wonderland, but they go together in my head, so I wanna display her with the rest.

Truth be told, part of this is an excuse to display my playset. I'm not usually one for doll playsets, but I really like the art on this one and would like all of my girls together. Currently doing a lot of rearranging, but it looks like my theme for September is a mix of Wonderland and popstars. I really wanna have all my dolls that are singers out for a bit, so it's a lot of MH and RH surprisingly. XD It's just, nice to update the display once in a while.

[arazialotis]

Get Him to the Con - Part 6

Pairing: Jensen × Reader

Word Count: About 7600

Summary: The reader stumbles into Jensen at her favorite bar, a very drunk Jensen. She soon realizes Jensen was booked for a con this weekend and has to be eight hours from town in only two.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Warnings: Language, Mutual Pining, A very mild jalapeno pepper in the beginning

Although this is an RPF, it is a character I created and should not reflect back IRL. I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time as coping skill. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

-----

Sunlight filtered into the room through sheer curtains blowing in the gentle breeze. Birds chirped outside, greeting the day with a chorus of melodies. A peaceful sigh brushed the back of your neck. An arm wrapped around you, holding you close to the solid form behind you. A hand bordered on the edge of your shirt that must have ridden up during the night. Another grazed the back of your bare thigh, and another pressed hard against your ass. A soft moan escaped past your lips as you pressed further into it. You would have been content to stay here forever. Wait! Your eyes shot wide open. That was one too many hands.

You jolted from bed, now fully awake. Jensen grumbled but rolled over to the other side, not ready yet to face the day. Thankfully, it gave you enough time to get your shit together. Where were your pajama bottoms? You were a notorious chronic stripper. Always starting the night off with too many layers because you were cold, but as you started to warm up, thus commenced the unconscious removal of layers. It didn’t help that Jensen was hot. Like, temperature-wise. The guy was a fucking furnace. You weren’t concerned last night about it because you thought you’d be too anxious to sleep at all. Turns out you were so very wrong. Hopefully, he hadn’t noticed.

Jensen sniffed, and the sheets rustled as he turned onto his back. The bedding became tented near the area you had believed was his third hand. Change of plans. You abandoned looking for your missing pajamas and opted for jeans and a sweatshirt. After a quick trip to the bathroom, you left on a mission to find breakfast and coffee, sure Jensen would appreciate the privacy to tackle the obvious, albeit impressive, situation on his own.

The town was bigger than Lebanon, but not by much. At least it was walkable. The downtown had one restaurant but didn’t open until eleven. Traffic was busy on the main stretch of the road, filled with trucks, semis, and livestock trailers. Tires squelched through puddles and mud. Across the way, loud mariachi music called travelers to a pop-up tent where there was a line of hungry patrons waiting. An intoxicating aroma of spices broke through the smell of cattle. You eagerly went to join the queue.

Forty minutes of walking, waiting in line, and waiting for food seemed like an appropriate amount of time to give Jensen. On the way back, to Anthony’s credit, you did peek into one of the empty rooms, which was completely stripped of wallpaper, carpet, and wood paneling. The furniture was pushed to one corner and covered with a plastic tarp. You knocked on your motel door. Jensen answered, having changed into black jeans and a Family Business t-shirt tie-dyed with bleach. His hair looked so soft, still free of product. It was the most unkempt you’d seen him, yet you craved to see more of his natural state. How he would appear on a lazy Saturday morning with no one to impress.

It was another morning with more uncertainty of how to start the day, of what to say, of what to address. Both of you stood there frozen in time, staring at each other. Though the storm had broke last night, a new one began to brew in the spaces between. There was a need to feel clouds clash against each other, to feel the shake of thunder, to watch lightning flash in each other’s eyes. It wasn’t only you who felt the flush of heat; Jensen’s cheeks visibly reddened, lost in the memory of a dream, wishing it had been reality. At any moment, the clouds would break, and the floodgates would release. Thankfully, you had the perfect solution.

“Breakfast burrito?” You held up the heavy paper bag as a barrier between the two of you. “I didn’t know what kind you would want, so I got one of each. There’s eggs and potatoes, eggs and chorizo, veggies…”

---

Jensen had taken the entire leg of the journey yesterday, so you insisted on starting the drive today. You rushed through, getting ready and eating breakfast, eager to leave the creepy motel behind. There was a minor traffic jam on 36, but it lasted only twenty minutes, and you were flying down the road once more.

Jensen finished his last sip of coffee. “Didn’t we listen to Led Zeppelin all of Thursday?”

You gasped. “This is Greta Van Fleet, you uncultured swine.”

It took him a second, but he got there. “Did you just insult me with a line from Toy Story?”

“It’s a good line.” You defended, “Why reinvent the wheel?”

“Uncultured,” He scoffed. “I’m not the one listening to a cheap knock-off.”

You continued the playful banter. “You sound exactly like all those cake-eaters on Reddit whose only knowledge of musical theory stemmed from listening to Entry of the Gladiators too many times at clown school. I enjoy it so I’m going to listen to it. Fuck the pretentious haters.”

Jensen chuckled silently, shaking his shoulders. “You’ve been holding that in for a while.”

You nodded your confirmation.

“Entry of the Gladiators?” He asked for clarification.

You used a series of “da da das” to sound out the melody of the iconic circus theme music.

“Ah, of course,” He recognized it not even halfway into the first stanza. “Who wouldn’t know that had a title other than ‘circus music?’ Clown school,” He chuckled again. “I’m going have to steal that line for future use.”

“It’s going to cost ya.” You warned.

“What’s the price?” He questioned.

You took your eyes off the road, studying his face. His finger was brushing against his lower lip as if offering them up freely as compensation. A wave of anticipation coursed throughout your body, landing in your toes. As you leaned closer, testing if he would meet you, you chickened out instead and adjusted the volume before focusing back on the road.

“The price is your admission that this is actually a decent song and that you’re somewhat intrigued.” You settled.

Jensen had not yet pulled away from leaning in. “Oh, I’m intrigued, alright.” He admitted but was talking about an entirely unrelated matter.

It was not even two hours once you hit the Colorado border, but this entire trip had felt like a lifetime of trying to reach an unknown destination that was finally in sight. The wooden sign read ‘Welcome to Colorful Colorado.’ The car slowed to a stop on the road’s shoulder.

“Come on,” Jensen complained. “We’ve already taken a hundred pictures this trip.”

But you were already halfway out of the car, bounding into the tall grass and wildflowers to get closer to the sign. “We’ve taken three!”

“Be careful!” He warned. “You’re going to get bit by a rattlesnake or infested with ticks.”

“Well then, you better come over here and protect me. I'm sure a big, strong Texan such as yourself ain't afraid of no rattlesnake."

The grass swished against his calves as he came closer.

“As for the ticks,” You continued, bravery rising up. “We’ll have to turn on some country music and see what Brad Paisley advises for those.”

He raised his arm above his head, leaned against the wooden post, and looked down at you. The intensity of his gaze normally would have made you turn and run or, at the very least, create a distraction to diffuse the tension. Instead, you stepped closer, a whisper away from him. The sun shone through the gap between.

Gravel and tires met as another car slowed, pulling off the road behind yours. Three girls piled out of the car, laughing and squealing at each other. Fuck. You stepped away from him.

“Hey,” One of the girls called. “We’ll take your photo if you take ours!”

“So it begins,” Jensen mumbled under his breath.

You didn’t understand why until they stepped closer. You raised your hand to shield the sun from your eyes. One girl was dressed in a plaid flannel shirt over a black tank, the anti-possession tattooed on their chest, one in a shirt that had the side profile of the Impala that read ‘The Winchester Brothers’ like it was an advertisement, the third’s shirt was just Jensen’s face everywhere in the style of a 90’s album cover.

The shock of realization crossed their faces slowly and then all at once.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” One repeated over and over while simultaneously hitting her friend’s shoulder.

The one subject to the abuse just stood there, mouth hanging open as if her brain was having trouble computing the reality of the event. The third gulped, wide-eyed, and turned a hundred and eighty degrees walking back to the car.

You snickered and whispered to Jensen, “Fight, flight, freeze.”

He snorted but then recomposed himself, calling over to them. “Y’all don’t happen to be traveling to Denver for a certain convention now, are ya?”

“Oh my god,” The fighter repeated again. “I told you it was going to be worth it.” She pulled the fleeing friend by her collar back to the group. “I told you!” She then directed to Jensen, “We’re huge fans of the show.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled as if the shirts didn't give it away.

The frozen one thawed. “Were you in Lebanon, like literally yesterday!?!”

“Sure was.” He said. “Did you see my note?”

Two of them squealed while the other said, “We must have been like an hour or two behind you.”

“Well, we are all here now. Should we get a picture or something?” He suggested.

“Oh my gosh! Yes, Please!” The one in the Impala shirt gushed.

You offered to take the photo, and as you were receiving instructions, one of them asked you, “So, are you like his… cousin? Assistant?”

Jensen was yacking it up with the other two girls. You looked him up and down, not sure what to define it as. Caught somewhere in between. Wondering if it would cement into something more. But then it hit you. This road trip was almost over. You were leaving him by the end of the day. You’d go back to your life and he to his. Who knew the next time you’d be able to see each other, let alone work on a relationship? If that’s even what he wanted. Was it what you wanted? Honestly, the guy might be looking for a quick fling. Again, was that something you wanted? Jensen felt your gaze and met it; his lips pressed together. Your brain spun from overthinking.

“Friends,” You sputtered out. “We’re just friends.”

Relief radiated from the girl, but you were more focused on Jensen, wondering if that sigh was a hint of disappointment. But god dammit! If he wanted something more, he was going to have to be the one to bring it up! Several pictures later of the group and singles, Jensen realized he needed to take control of the situation, or he’d never leave.

“Alright, alright.” He attempted to settle them. “I didn’t do my hair today, but one of those has to be decent, and there’s a dinner I gotta catch tonight.” He looked at his watch to sell that he was running behind.

They thanked him profusely, trying to draw out the moment as much as possible.

“Actually, can you get one real quick of me and… my friend… before we head out.” He asked.

Oooh. Was that as intentionally backhanded as it felt?

“Get over here.” He impatiently waved you over. “Wait, actually, do you have your phone? I think I left mine in the car.”

You nodded and handed it over to one of the girls, knowing fully well that his phone was in his back pocket; he just had the common sense not to hand his phone over to random fans. (Unless he was very drunk per your first encounter). Although you had been the initial one to want a photo, now that you had an audience, you didn’t know how to act. One of the girls had her phone out as well, possibly recording the interaction. You stood next to his side with your body angled towards him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. The girl with your phone counted down before snapping a pic.

“No, no, no.” Jensen complained and reset. “This feels too photo op-y.” He adjusted his jeans as he squatted down. “Hop up.”

“What? Jensen!” You protested.

“Don’t ‘What, Jensen’ me.” He argued. “You did it yesterday, and it was cute, and I’d like a picture.” He tried to encourage you with the wave of his hand. “Oh, don’t get all shy on me now. One way or another, I’m getting you in the air for a picture, whether willingly or over the shoulder with just your ass in the frame, which I wouldn’t complain….”

“Fine, fine.” You chuckled as you gave in to his demand.

His knees popped as he lifted you quickly, and you bounced in the air.

“Gentle,” You scolded. “I’m not paying for your knee replacement surgery.”

“Smart ass.” He bit his lower lip and pinched the underside of your thigh.

You shrieked with laughter, and Jensen turned to look up at you.

“Oh, that is adorable.” The girl called, taking a few candid shots.

“Just friends?” Another mumbled though the two of you were not privy to the conversation.

The third agreed. “How much you wanna bet he’s going to make an announcement tomorrow he’s off the market?”

“I’m not betting on a hand already lost.”

After several more moments of thanks and prolonging the experience, you finally made to part ways. You and Jensen sat in the rental. As you waited for the girls to take off, Jensen saying something about not wanting to be followed the whole way to Denver, you played with the filters on the photos and sent the best ones to Jensen. He then added the one of him next to the sign in Lebanon to Instagram. Later as he was driving down the freeway, you read the whole thing: If there was one word to describe this year so far, that word would be unexpected. The start was unexpectedly filled with chaos and turmoil, as most of you know, though maybe I should have seen it coming. But these last few months have taught me unexpected isn’t always a bad thing. It can come in the form of unexpected kindness from strangers, unexpected friendships, unexpected journeys, unexpected mysteries, and unexpected healing. All of which has led me spontaneously and unexpectedly back home. Oh, home, let me come home.

Though he had driven all of yesterday and you only had a couple of hours in today, he insisted on seeing you through to Denver. Though he teased you over your deplorable and sometimes downright terrifying driving, you thought it was really because he wanted to reinforce the driver picks the music rule. (You weren’t ‘that’ bad of a driver). It was sole stubbornness that kept him from admitting he liked Greta Van Fleet or confusing them for Zeppelin in the first place. Instead, he went for an indie playlist of his featuring bands like Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros, The Flaming Lips, and Beach House.

The drive continued ever onward, and though Colorado did have some rolling hills, the bare wasteland and fields you had become accustomed to over the past few days drew you to the brink of insanity.

“Hey, Jensen.” You said.

“Yeah?”

“Clouds or Mountains?”

He thought on it for a second. “Clouds.”

Sure enough, he was right.

A half-hour, he prompted you. “Hey, Y/N.”

You only humphed a response.

“Clouds or mountains?”

“Clouds,” you grumbled.

A few minutes later and a new shape emerged on the horizon.

He asked again, “Clouds or mountains.”

You whined again. “Clouds.” And sighed a deep sigh before quoting, “I want to see mountains again. Mountains Gandalf! And then find somewhere quiet where I can finish my book.”

Jensen chuckled. “I always forget how big of a nerd you are. We should watch those movies together sometime.”

“Yeah, we should!” You concurred. “We can marathon them and have a hobbit day where we follow the meal schedule and everything. Breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon….” You listed off. “Tomatoes, sausages, nice crispy bacon,” You impersonated a few more quotes. “Malt beer, ripe meat of the bone.”

His stomach grumbled. “Ah, man, I'm hungry just thinking about it.”

“How?” You giggled. “You had three breakfast burritos.”

“Two and a half.” He defended.

“Hold on,” You said before unclicking your seatbelt and shuffling to the back. “What do you want?”

His tongue flashed over his bottom lip. After his dreams last night, you were the only snack he was concerned with. God, how he wished he had a few more days. Perhaps canceling on the con so you could keep driving wouldn’t be such a bad idea. You could just keep heading to Vancouver. He’d make it to set on time. Most likely. Okay, if he was able to have his way with you two days late, but it would be so worth it. You reoriented yourself in the front with your stash. “Goldfish, Pringles, and we still have a few pretzels.”

He was going to make his move tonight. He didn’t want to wait any longer. He was ready to take things to the next step. He was glad to have you as a friend, but he wanted more. From the moment you slid in next to him all those months ago at the brewery, he knew he was a fucking goner. Sure, at that time, he was as drunk as Jimmy Buffet in Margaritaville, but that instinct hadn’t lied to him. It held and only grew. It had taken him these past months and this road trip to build up this decision, to finally have the courage to act on it. He just wasn’t quite sure how to initiate it yet.

“Hey,” You called him from his thoughts. “You gotta help me with these. I really only want to take the granola and trail mix up with me to Estes Park.”

His heart immediately sank. Maybe he didn’t understand or hear you right. “Estes Park?”

“Yeah.” You confirmed. “I actually got an unbelievable deal at the Stanley Hotel. You know, Stephen King’s inspiration for The Shining. Like such a good deal, the ghosts may be luring me there. So I may call you in a panic tonight and probably should get some salt on the way up. Oh man, how awesome would it be if you and Jared stayed there and made a little ghost hunter special? But I figured you’d be busy with the con all weekend, and we wouldn’t get to see each other much anyways, so I might as well make the most of being out in Colorado and hike the Rockies while I’m out here.” You rambled.

“Right.” His heart stayed in his stomach, remembering your early conversation about what you told your friends, not realizing it was a partial truth to them. “Cause how else are you going to have your meet-cute with some handsome lumberjack unless you trip over his fallen log?”

He meant it as a joke, but disappointment twisted inside you. So the kiss had been a fluke, and this morning was just a natural reaction. He wasn’t interested. It made sense. More so than what you had thought.

“Exactly.” You said.

Friends. You thought. Just friends, he thought, and his cheeks flushed. Simultaneously, you both swallowed a lump in your throat. The ride from there on was quiet. There was an obvious tension in the air. Not like the storm waiting to break as was before. No, this was more like when your grandfather brought up politics on Thanksgiving. At least you had other rooms to escape to then.

You played on your phone a bit, tried, and failed to read. The motion of the car and focusing on the stationary words was too much for your brain to process. Jensen seemed lost in thought. Like he wanted to say something but never was able to work it out. Maybe if you could tell him how you were feeling. Just let it all out. That you didn’t know how much longer you could handle the ‘just friends’ thing. It was pretty easy when thousands of miles separated you, but being so close together, it was near impossible to deny your emotions. At any moment, they could explode out of you. But you didn’t want to risk it. Didn’t want to make a mistake and lose him altogether.

“Hey, Y/N?” Jensen pulled you from your thoughts.

“Yeah?” You responded hopeful.

“Clouds or mountains?”

It was not what you wanted to hear, but at least some of the tension had lifted. You squinted and took in the hazy purple shape in the distance. After a few moments of analysis, your eyes widened. You softly and repeatedly slapped his shoulder in excitement.

“That’s a fucking mountain bitch!” You squealed in delight.

He laughed boisterously.

“We made it!” You proclaimed.

Jensen slipped into a British accent in an attempt to impersonate David Attenborough. But it came out more gentler, more breathy, and a higher pitch than his usual deep voice.

“After years of endless searching, the pair of travelers laid eyes upon their destination. The high peaks of the mountains are a stark contrast to the flat sea of plains they had battled tirelessly through.”

You melted, and a high whine sounded in the back of your throat. Jensen glanced at you and bit his lower lip as you quickly recomposed yourself. It was such a sweet and delicate noise. He wanted more.

“Little did they realize, the end of the great migration is only the beginning. The female will depart from the male to venture further into the hills, gathering resources for the nest. All the while, the male will be left defenseless against hoards of a terrifying new threat. Fangirls. If either of them survives the next perilous chapter, it will be nothing short of a miracle.”

He was unsuccessful at coaxing another whimper from you, but your giggle was just as pleasurable.

“Oh my god,” You chastised him with a chuckle. “You’ll be fine. You secretly feed off the praise and attention even though you act like a complete grump.”

“And what about you?” He asked. “I know you packed an entire walk-in closet, but do you have bear spray?”

“Bear spray?” You furrowed your brow.

He rolled his eyes at your lack of unpreparedness. “What about water? Do you have a camel pack?”

“I’m sure my water bottle will be just fine.”

He scoffed. “First aid? Gauze if you get a cut or need to make a splint?”

“Jensen,” You stopped him. “I’m going on popular trails part of the National Parks Service. If I run into any trouble, I’m sure there will be plenty of people around to help. If not a handsome lumberjack, perhaps a park ranger.” You added for the spite of it.

He clenched his jaw, trying his hardest to ignore the jab. “No, we are stopping at an Arc’teryx or, or Patagonia or something. Make sure you have all you need.”

Was he panicking? “Jensen,” You said his name again, hoping to ground him. “I have everything I need. I’ll be fine. I’ve hiked before. There lot’s of places back home.”

“But this is, like, the actual mountains.” He continued to argue. “Wild terrain, no cell service, bears, cougars…”

Your laugh cut him off. “I think you should be more worried about cougars this weekend than me.”

"This is serious, Y/N." He groaned.

"I'll be fine. I promise." You affirmed.

"Will you…" He started. He didn't want to be overbearing, and he knew you were fiercely capable and independent, but anxiety was getting the best of him. "Will you just text in the morning and when you make it back, so I know you're okay?"

"I'm sure you'll hardly be able to check your phone, but yes, I'll text you." You agreed.

"And take lots of pictures, so I can live vicariously through you." He added.

“Deal!”

The last leg of the journey remained quiet and calm, Jensen’s indie playlist providing a soft ambiance, even as the skyline grew heavier with angular earth jutting into the heavens. Even as Denver grew from a speck reflection of sunlight to a concrete jungle, neither of you could think of what to say. Your gold necklace glinted in the side view mirror, and the orange sun streaked across your face.

You had arranged with a rental company to come meet you at the hotel where the convention was taking place. That way, Jensen would still have a car, though you figured he may have a driver for the event itself. For the first time in this journey, an active map with actual directions had been pulled up to navigate the way through the city. Though now you were wishing you had encouraged his earlier plan to keep heading west. As the minutes counted down to arrival, your hearts grew evermore tender knowing soon they’d be parted.

Jensen pulled into a roundabout, a fountain in its center flowing into a garden of roses, through the archway leading to the hotel entrance. He put the car in park, but the engine ran idle. Both of you stared directly ahead, not quite believing the trip where time stood still was finally over.

An intrusive vibrating buzzed into the quiet. You looked down at your phone, notifying you the pick-up was here, as a black Malibu drove under the awning next to you.

“That’s my ride.” You said defeated.

Jensen nodded, and as the trunk behind you popped open, his door creaked as he exited the vehicle. You studied the lines in your hands as they lay in your lap, wondering if they held any insight into your fortune. If you could read them, perhaps they could guide you forward. But all you could do was sit with that same feeling as the morning you first left him. The trunk next to you slammed shut, signaling it was time to go. You scrambled out of the car but froze, facing Jensen, trying to discern the look on his face, not knowing it mirrored yours.

“Well…” He bumped his fists together. “This is it.”

“Yeah.” You agreed.

“Be safe.”

You let out a half-hearted laugh. “You too.”

Jensen pounced. It happened so fast your brain couldn’t process it until it had already happened. His lips worked hard against yours as you met his claiming pace. One hand wrapped around your waist, pressing you against his hard frame. The other wound around the back of your neck, leaving no room for escape. Your fists clenched the fabric of his shirt with such strength at any moment, it could tear. Gravity had no hold here as it felt like you were floating far above the atmosphere. Harsh clashes drew out into savoring breaths, and when you finally pulled apart, you found you were out of air entirely.

You looked up at him, your noses nearly grazing.

Ask me to stay, your eyes pleaded.

Please, stay. His heart begged.

Someone nearby cleared their throat, and you took a step back, color flooding your cheeks. Yet, still, there were no words to say to each other.

The Enterprise driver rolled down their window. “Lady, I got a schedule to run.”

“Right, of course,” You snapped back to reality as time and gravity came rushing back with an oppressive force.

Jensen rubbed his lower lip as if waking up trying to remember a dream.

“Thank you?” It came out as a question.

You didn’t know what you were thanking him for. The kiss, driving, paying for the hotels, maybe everything. Had you ever thanked someone after they kissed you? More people were around the entrance now; some under the awning, some looking through the glass windows of the lobby, and more than one had their phones out. Your chest began to tighten, and your vision blurred. Your mind grew evermore blank the harder you fished for something else to say.

His brow creased, and he tilted his head slightly. “You’re welcome?”

A high voice called his name, followed by another, and then a tank of a man came barreling over, mumbling to Jensen the need to check his phone more frequently. That he wasn’t about to have another Nashville on his hands. Without another word, you got into the car and drove away. Jensen’s eyes stayed fixed on you until the car was out of view.

---

The view on the way to Estes Park should have been stunning, breathtaking, and spectacular, but you were two-for-two. Two-for-two on leaving Jensen at a hotel and crying on your way to your next destination. And it was stupid. You shouldn’t be crying. You should be elated. It probably had something to do with tuning into a radio station playing that dreaded Neil Diamond song you couldn’t seem to escape.

He kissed you. Like, kissed you, kissed you. There was no mistaking it this time. Yet, he didn’t ask you to stay. He didn’t say anything. You knew what you wanted at this point. You wanted him. You wanted to try and make some sort of relationship work despite the distance, despite his status, despite everything. But you were going to leave it in his hands. He had to decide what he wanted and then fucking communicate it to you. With actual words, though, the lips had been enjoyable.

You chewed on your thumb, thinking things over. Maybe you should turn around and head back. Give him an opportunity to actually say what he was thinking. But then again, he was going to be so busy this weekend that you wouldn’t have time with him anyways. No. You were staying the course. You were a brave, independent woman and didn’t need to be hung up about some guy. When you booked this trip, you wanted to see ghosts at The Stanley and you wanted to see the mountains. So by god, that was what you were going to do. If he had anything to say, he could come find you.

The Stanley was impressive, to say the least. It had a glamor to it, feeling as if it stood still in a bygone era. The ghost tour was fun and spooky, and you even managed to catch an orb on camera, despite the rule, ‘no videos allowed.’ Though it felt lonely. You kept thinking of quick remarks to say to Jensen or feeling the same chill down your spine or how he’d undoubtedly say your orb was just a spec of dust yet secretly keep a box of salt close by that night.

Sleep was impossible. It wasn’t the scratching on walls or the footsteps above, even though you were on the top floor, or the swinging chandelier. It was the fact that he hadn’t called or texted. And yes, despite your horrible cell reception on the road trip here, you did, in fact, pay for cellular service. And it seemed to working just fine as you reconnected with friends and family ensuring them you arrived to Colorado in one piece.

You don’t kiss someone like that and not follow up! You buried your head under a pillow. You also don’t kiss someone like that and thank them. What had you been thinking? You weren’t thinking that was the problem. Possibly even had a panic attack given by the growing crowd. No wonder he hadn’t called you. What was he supposed to think? You tried to rationalize the thought process. You had shown gratitude towards the action, thus indicating you appreciated the gesture. But even you didn’t buy that.

An icy caress crept up your spine, sending shivers throughout your body, and you reached your breaking point.

You shot straight up. “Can’t you tell I am being haunted enough by my own idiocy!” Perhaps it was your own imagination, but the creaking floorboards seemed to settle, and warmth flooded back. “Thank you!”

You laid back down and pulled your phone out, staring at his number, the photos being the last thing you sent. You had to put a feeler out there.

‘Thanks again for an amazing trip! If you’re looking for a buddy on your next road trip, let me know. And don’t worry, the ghosts here are all bark, though I can’t say the same for those in room 217.’

You slammed your phone on the one-night stand and prayed sleep would find you.

Morning came quickly, too quickly. Your alarm cheerfully chimed you awake though you did not meet it with the same attitude. After hitting snooze twice, you regretted your decision to wake up early and beat the crowds. The sheets crinkled as you reached over, searching for Jensen, only to remember he wasn’t there. The realization was enough to get you moving instead of what you really wanted, opting for a lazy morning in bed with him.

Though it had been a struggle to pry yourself free from the bed, it had been the right call. Prime parking was still available at the head of the trail, which was starting to fill in even at this ungodly hour. The trail up to the Sky Pond was going to be a long one but worth it, or so you kept telling yourself. You double-checked your supplies, ensuring you had enough water, food, and a compass. To Jensen’s credit, you probably could have been more prepared, but you also didn’t want to be weighed down. You snapped a few pictures of the map at the start of the trail, just in case. It would all be fine.

Two hours into the hike and you had convinced yourself you made the right call. The landscape and views were astonishingly serene. There was peace and euphoria blowing like wind through branches, rushing like rapids of a river, sweetly singing like birds in the breeze, gasping like the lack of air in your lungs, dripping like the sweat on your brow. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, but you just needed a second wind. It would be worth it, you repeated. And you were only thinking about Jensen every 500 feet or so. Progress. You had already passed Alberta Falls, and it had been spectacular. There was something healing about the sound of water. There was more to come, and it would be worth it, repeating the mantra of the day.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, so too did the heat of the day. Conserving water throughout the hike was essential, but staying hydrated was just as important. You guzzled down another few sips. As you rounded a bend, you hesitated, seeing the ascent. The backpack bearing weight on your shoulders grew heavier, and you adjusted the straps. Your breaths deepened, and a few crude words muttered from your lips as you prepared for the climb. If Nesta could do it, so could you.

Your legs shook as you started, already weary from the elevation gain. You wondered what it would be like at the convention right now. Would you be hanging out with Jensen? Meeting his friends and coworkers? Or would you just be milling about, waiting for the day to be over? Probably the latter. He had asked you to text in the morning, but he hadn’t even responded to your message last night. He was probably too busy with the day. Or just as confused about the kiss as you. The first time it happened, you didn’t talk about it, so why would now be any different? Whatever the situation, you bet if you were still in Denver, it would include air conditioning, less sweat, and the opportunity to read. But you could read at the lake and cool your feet off. If you ever got there. The mental games were becoming as big of a hurdle as the physical limits.

You were too in your head that when you hit the next rock, your foot missed it entirely. Landing on the step below, your foot slipped out from under you, and you came crashing down on your hip with a big thud.

“Fuck!” You cursed and then hissed through your teeth.

“Woah!” A voice called in the distance, and the sound of heavy boots beat against the rocky steps. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

You braced yourself to get up and were met with a helping hand. The green pants and khaki shirt were a dead giveaway for a park ranger. He was tall and broad with dark brown curls and soft whiskey eyes. His skin was darkened from days in the sun. And unlike you, he was barely breaking a sweat.

“Yeah.” You winced as he helped pull you up. “Wasn’t watching my step.”

“At least you can stand.” He said, “But let’s take a look anyways.” He crouched down beside you. “A few scrapes and you’ll definitely have a bruise. Can you twist your ankle?” You did as he instructed. “Bend the knee.”

You looked down as he tenderly applied pressure to certain areas. You confirmed the scrapes from the few bright red streaks traveling down your calve and brushed at the dirt that ran your whole length.

“All looks to be in working order.” He assessed, brushed off his hands, and started digging through his pack. “I have acetaminophen.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” You gladly accepted it and washed it down with water.

“Here.” He took his water bottle and ran it down your leg, clearing the cuts of debris. “You’ll want to clean that better once you’re finished for the day, but you should be fine until then. Where are you hiking up to?” He asked.

“Sky pond.”

“Ah, me too, actually.” He took his hat off to fan himself and ran his hand through his bouncy curls. “Someone has been messing with the trail cams up there, and I gotta reset them. Mind if I join you?” Maybe it was because you pursed your lips, he quickly added. “If not, I’ll hang back for a while and create some distance. It’s so peaceful out here I wouldn’t want to ruin…”

“No. It’s cool, we can hike together. Though I’m probably slower than you’re used to.” You said.

“Oh, I love a leisurely pace. So much to take in. Maybe even catch sight of the bear I keep hearing about.”

“Bears?” You raised your brows. “Yeah, you can definitely stick around.”

As you hiked onward, you learned a little about each other. Where each other were from, family, careers, hobbies. He moved out from Maine recently, but being stationed in the Rockies had always been a dream of his. The ascent finally leveled out a bit, and you were able to catch your breath.

“You have a partner back home?” He asked.

You chuckled.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… complicated.” You explained.

“Hold that thought.” He said. “There’s an excellent view back here most people don’t know about.”

He started in through the woods.

“So much for staying on the trail rule.”

He looked back and winked. “Perks of traveling with a ranger.”

“Definitely not impersonating one and preying on single hikers.” You teased but also voiced the concern in the back of your mind.

“And disgrace the badge? Never.” He smiled.

“I do have bear spray.” You lied and gripped your shoulder straps tighter.

“Well, I’m glad I came across you. I left mine down at the station. If we did come across B 712 I was going to yell real loud and hope for the best.” He teased back.

Despite the warning bell in your head, you continued onward, following him further from the main path. The forest cleared to a rocky cliffside overlooking a massive gorge carved from the very glacier this trail was named after. It made you feel so insignificantly small and at the very top of the world all at the same time.

“Wow.” Was all that came to your mind.

“Ah, don’t get too close to the ledge now.” His arm went in front of you like a mother who braked in the car too hard. “If you slip here, well…” He peered over the steep ledge.

You took out your phone and scanned the area with the lens. “Pictures never do it justice.” You said disappointed.

“I never get sick of the view.” He stated. “You should come back when the colors change, it looks like the valley is on fire. Sorry, you were saying earlier?”

“Right. Yeah, no…” You were flustered, wondering how much to share. “It’s just I really like this guy, and I think he likes me too, most of the time anyway. But I don’t know what he wants. And I don’t want to get hurt. So I’m kinda stuck in this pining phase, and I don’t know how to get out of it until he’s ready. I’m not making sense.”

“Hmm.” He pondered. “I mean, I’ve known you for twenty minutes I can say with certainty he likes you back.”

You rolled your eyes at the pass. “No, it's different. He’s like a big deal. Like a big fish in the ocean, and I’m a trout in a pond.”

“First of all,” He stopped you. “I hate that analogy with a passion. Second, If you’ve put him on a pedestal and he’s reinforced that in any way or hasn’t corrected that, he is not worth the time of day. No matter where you are in your walk of life, comparing yourself to other people never ends well. And using that comparison to deflate your own worthiness or happiness is going to lead to a self-fulling prophecy of missed opportunity.”

Wow, that was deep and stung a little. “Are you really a park ranger or a psychologist?” You teased.

“I listen to a lot of Brene Brown podcasts.” He admitted. “What, it gets lonely hiking up here all the time; gotta do something to keep the mind busy. You said he likes you; what makes you think that?”

“Shall I lay on this bolder while you connect this back to my relationship with my mother?” You gestured to the rock next to you.

“Fine, fine.” He retreated. “I have a knack for wanting to fix things; car engines, relationships, trail cams. Let me say this, and now that I’ve creeped you out enough, I’ll let you hike in peace, but you said you don’t know what he wants, but have you asked him?”

“Well… I…” You stuttered. “I’m waiting for him.”

“Why?”

“Because…”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Because that’s what you do. The guy asks the girl. He makes the moves.”

He scoffed. “I guess that’s fine. I didn’t take you as being so old-fashioned.”

“I’m not old-fashioned.” You scoffed back.

He raised his hands in surrender. “It’s not a bad thing if that's what you want.”

“No, it’s just… this is in his court. It’s his move.” How could you explain the situation without giving it away?

“Two-for-two with the horrible analogies.” He pushed.

Oh, he was getting on your nerves. “He’s an actor! Okay! Like a somewhat recognizable one. And I’m just,” You gestured to yourself. “A nobody, covered in dirt.”

“Oooh. So it is the pedestal thing. Man, I’m good!” He leaned against a pine and crossed his arms smugly. “The way I see it, if you like him, and he’s given you all the signals back, you need to get over your own insecurities and open up a channel of communication, or you're going to be stuck in that small pond forever.”

Tears were threatening to spill from your eyes. “How?” You whispered.

“Simple. Tell him how you feel and ask him the same, ask him what he wants.” He suggested.

“And what if, what if he doesn’t want what I want? What if I lose him altogether?”

“It’s a risk, but do you really want to be trailing behind him forever? Putting your whole life on hold while you wait for him to catch up?” He pushed. “‘Sides, you know where I’m stationed, and I’ll make my intentions clear from the beginning.”

You squinted your eyes at him. “What’s your name?”

His grin widened, showing off his canines. “Why, you going to report me, sweetheart?”

“No.” You stamped your foot. “You are obviously entitled to a raise. I bet you find all the single hikers and help them with their existential crises.”

“It keeps me busy.” He bit his bottom lip. “The name’s Dean. You?”

You scoffed. Of course, it was. “Y/N. I think I’ll let you continue on your own from here.”

“I understand. I came on too heavy.” He sighed. “Should’ve stuck to the surface-level topics.”

“No, it’s not that.” You said. “It’s just I’m heading in the opposite direction now.”

You weren’t going to wait to keep hashing it out with him. A new determination had sparked. The branches snapped underneath your feet as you started the way back to the main trail. You wondered how fast you could run down a mountain.

“Hey, take it easy,” Dean called after you. “I don’t want to come back on the trail tonight to find you twisted an ankle on the way down. Where are you off to so fast anyways? Really taking those words to heart.”

“Denver.” You shouted back. “There’s a con I gotta get to.”

-----

Continue to Part 7 Here!

GHTTC Tags: @maggiegirl17 @foxyjwls007 @djs8891 @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510

[adobe-outdesign]

OK to Jynx Review?

While I'm not the biggest Jynx fan, Smoochum is okay. Jynx was always kind of a weird pick for a pre-evo, as it doesn't really feel like Smoochum's presence really enhances the line in any way, but it is nice to at least have one design here that isn't quite so questionable.

Visually, the pink and yellow palette is nice and there's a fair amount of emphasis on the lips, which makes sense as kissing things is Smoochum's entire deal. The hair is cute and has a nice shape to it as well. It's nothing all that memorable, and I'm personally not a huge fan of human-like baby Pokemon like this, but it's harmless.

Also, side note: Smoochum looks 10x cuter in its original GS art. The slightly wider body shape, inquisitive expression, and little buck tooth really make all the difference.

I've gone on record saying that Jynx is my all-time least favorite Pokemon and yeah, sorry, not a fan of this one.

Obviously the biggest problem here is its face, which is undeniably pretty racist and generally just uncomfortable. This is not helped by it being extremely human-like and vaguely sexualized, with the kissing thing and the chest. They did try to fix it a bit by giving it purple skin as opposed to the original pitch black color, which is slightly better—but purple's not that much different and they didn't really do anything to fix the face, so it's kind of a band-aid solution at best.

Speaking of which, I've noticed that most people try to justify Jynx's design with baseless speculation, which is weird because we know exactly why it's Like That. Here's a design from the beta version of Red and Green (the following information is courtesy of Helix Chamber):

This is either beta Jynx or a Pokemon closely related to it. Its name is Buu, which makes it obvious that it's based on the Ultraman monster Woo, which is A) female (note that Jynx is 100% female), B) a yeti-ish creature (hence the parka here and Jynx's inexplicable ice-typing), and C) a creature with a dark face:

There's no evidence to suggest that GameFreak meant any harm here, but that doesn't make either the beta design or Jynx itself less racist. Just kind of an unfortunate design all around.

Also, even putting that aside, there are just some other odd things with Jynx. It's abnormally humanoid, with hair, five fingers, a dress, and even boobs for some reason. I love humanoid 'mons, but this is a bit too much, and it's hard to see Jynx as something that lives out in nature normally. I also wish something in the final design reflected its ice-typing.

Here's a particularly good redesign that fixes most of my issues with Jynx but still feels like it captures the spirit of the original to some degree:

However, and this is going to sound weird: I think Jynx should get a regional.

Here me out: I get that GameFreak probably doesn't want to acknowledge Jynx too much, but a regional would be the perfect opportunity to redesign it— the regional could even be featured in place of regular Jynx going forward in things like the anime. There are some interesting elements to the design that you could play with—give it tentacles or fins and make it a water-type siren, make it normal-type and give it a viking theme, theme it after different kinds of dancing like Oricorio, etc.

Though on the bright side, Jynx's existence did at least give us one very pretty TCG card, so there's that much, at least: