#Again never give up from your dreams as it seems!! let's fucking gooooo

[kanene-yaaay]

T E H E H E E

What a deliiight!!!

[theodoraflowerday]

young royals s3e1 episode reaction:

oh god oh lord

let's go

and his LAWYER? is this about sara reporting him?

oh ludwig speaks

THEYRE BEING SUPPORTIVE???? I fr thought their marriage was a sham lol

PILLS????? KRISTINA??????????

bro wille really is a mini kristina huh.

wait simon's never been to the palace before has he?

a SETTLEMENT??????????

BRO HE POSTED CSAM TO THE INTERNET WDYM A SETTLEMENT

oh. my god burn it to the GROUND LINDA

oh? oh my god? what the fuck???

"piss person" well you little bitch baby that is Indeed what you are so

ugh

Linda is so right but so is Simon

I really hope this isn't how it's solved tho I wanna see August burning

"I just want it to be over" oh my baby boy oh my son

what's this hi hi what is this heartstopper

CAN Y'ALL KISS??? IVE WAITED LIKE A YEAR AND A HALF?

"cozy" oh kflfjdlfjdlgkdlgkdlgkdl little shit

(ps if I didn't rewatch yesterday I fully wouldn't have caught that throwback)

when Simon touched the curtain I knew kslfjdlfjdlfjdlfj

THEYRE SUCH PRETTY KISSERS IM GONNA RIP MY LEGS OFF

IS THIS HOW YOU IMAGINED IT

THIS IS BETTER

BROOOOOOOOOOO IM GONNA SHOOT MYSELF IN THE FOOT

omfg they're SO CUTE I'M LOSING MY MIND

oh OH oh they're GOING at it

oh come ON

well that was precious as all hell

and now they're going back inside as if they weren't dry humping in wille's room 3 minutes ago. kings.

I want to smash rickard's face against a fire pit

simon: oh fuck. wille: oh yea you're lucky I didn't shoot you piece of shit

I'm losing my mind at linda being extremely surprised while kristina's like "sighs yeah. fucking figures. erik would never"

also losing my mind at wille's face lil bro is like AND I WILL DO IT AGAIN BAP BAP BAP

[maddie voice] FUCK YOU AUGUST

oh now linda's all disappointed. ok. be a better mom then.

i will literally rip August's face off idc

KRISTINA??????????

KRISTINA

omg felice

oh baby girl no

BUT SARA WAS A SNAKE

I want to give felice so many hugs my bbg

oh my god farima what the fuck sjgldjfkdjfldkf

WHAT THE FUCK

oh my god she really said "ok you're super gay now, wonderful, how can we use this to our advantage"

WELL ASK THEM?? YOU'RE THE LITERAL MOTHER IN THIS SCENARIO. ACT LIKE ONE.

linda has been pissing me tf off since last season idc

omg someone snitched on hillerska

OH

OHHHHHH

OH THEY KISSED IN PUBLIC

OH MY GOD

OH THEYRE GOING ALL OUT

hey now hey now this is what dreams are made of etc etc

BOTH THE CROWN PRINCE AND YOUR BOYFRIEND

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAA

B O Y F R I E N D

let's fuckin GOOOOO ENDGAME BITCHES

if simon sneaks out it's gonna bite them in the ass tho lmao

"sleep with a freshman" August did that twice lmao gross

OH THEY KNEW

OH MY GOD HE'S DOWN BAD

vincent is such an asshole barfs

DONT TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT AWAJFLSJFKSJFSKJ

fine. I'm coming out. i am a big august/sara enjoyer.

not the tiny heart that's so fucking cute

he can't get tattoos?? that's such bullshit. get a tramp stamp wille it's what you deserve

not felice unloading on wille and simon HDKFJDKGJ babygirl I love you and you need a therapist bc that's so inappropriate

"how do you get over your best friend" felice baby im gonna send you a google doc called the lesbian masterpost hang on

yeah of course that piece of shit nasty asshole talked to the press lmfao

"ex" y'all kissed like twice, [clare from derry girls voice] look at the state of ya

actually? can rosh and ayub talk to him? with their fists? and a knife preferably?

you know, I actually kinda like nils. he's so fucked up but you can see he genuinely cares abt wille. in his own lil fucked up extremely upper class way.

SARA

SARA NOOOOOOOOOOOO

oh lmfao that's literally how my dad's house looks like when I show up haha sad

omg are they gonna initiate her again

OMG

OMG BABY GIRLS

BRO THEYRE GONNA CLEAN HER ROOM AND TAKE HER TO NEW YORK

TEEN GIRLS BRO

oh wille seems so cozy. wonder what's going to go down now.

oh did they write an article abt simon

oh

oh it was not about simon

oh sweet baby jesus

I mean. it was totally alexander wasn't it lmfao

but also like....... I love that they're blowing that shit up. blow that school up.

ALL CLASSES?????

aw they're sitting together. boyfriends.

"did that happen to you" how is wille more worried abt the gay porn one and not ALL THE OTHER SHIT THEY DID TO HIM

oh I like her she reminds me of the lady from the incredibles

ohhhh

NOT THE PHONES TOO?

get over yourself vincent. fuck you vincent.

oh they're gonna close this shit

aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

fuck okay wonderful

[kylie-writes-stuff]

“wife”

pairing: corpse husband x reader (female)

words: 1,714

requested?: no (send some in tho pls :) )

plot/summary: felix invites his friend, y/n, to play among us when they need an extra player. her and corpse get along well

authors note: so this isnt that good and i know a lot of corpse fics use a similar plot. i just wanted to try to write for corpse. hopefully things i write for him in the future are better. let me know what you think tho! also i really wanted reader to be best friends with karl bc i love him sm. uh every swiggly line is like a small time skip. this was written late at night btw and i didnt take much time to go over it

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You sat up from laying down when you heard your phone ring. You looked at the caller ID.

Felix.

"What's up Felix?" You ask with a small yawn.

"Aww, how sweet," You hear in the background.

You giggle and ask, "Is that Sean? Hi Sean!"

"Yeah, we're playing Among Us and need an extra player. You down?" Felix explained.

"Sure, just give me a few minutes. See you soon, whore"

"Bitc-" You hang up before he can finish.

You got up and turned off your TV, going to get ready. 

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

You quickly tweet out that you're going live and say something on your insta story as well. You start your stream and slowly watch people flood in.

"Hey everyone! How are you guys doing?" You wave and smile, reading the chat.

"Everyone doing good, awesome! And i'm sorry to anyone having a bad day. I hope i can brighten it a bit!"

"Okay, sorry i didn't give you a further notice. I didn't even know i was gonna stream. Felix invited me to play Among Us so... here we are!"

You quickly join the discord and pull up the game, putting a cover over where the code goes.

"Hello?" You ask as you join the call. A chorus of greetings came your way.

"(Y/n)?"

"Karl!" You smile brightly.

Karl Jacobs was a good friend of yours. You would play on the Dream SMP sometimes. When you would, it would mostly be you being stupid with Karl and Alex, also known as Quackity. You were even a well know citizen of El Rapids.

"LET'S GOOOOO!" He yelled, making you laugh.

"Hey (Y/n), do you know everyone here?" Sean asks you.

"Um," You quickly scan through the names, "no, i don't think so."

You recognized names but you only personally knew Felix, Sean, Karl, and Ethan.

"Oh my god! Your voice is so cute!" Pokimane exclaims.

You giggle softly, "Thank you Poki!"

You're voice wasn't high pitched or anything like that, you just always spoke very softly and calmly. You were also a bit quiet.

Felix introduces you to those that you didn't know.

"There's one more person we're waiting for," He says.

While everyone waits, you and Karl run around each other's little characters and make jokes between yourselves. You mute yourself to read donations every once in a while.

You hear the discord chime, signaling that someone joined the call.

"WAIT CORPSE! DON'T SPEAK YET!" Felix yelled. "We have a new player. This is my friend (Y/n), say hi to her"

"Hello (Y/n)," Corpse said. You were taken aback by how deep his voice was but you didn't show it.

"Hi Corpse! Nice to meet you!" You said happily.

"Okay, how is she not freaking out?" Bretman said, making everyone laugh.

"Uh, (Y/n), do you mind letting me have black? It's cool if not.." Corpse asked gently.

"O-oh sure, no problem." You were usually black with the pink flamingo hat, but you ran over to the little computer and changed your color.

"Simp," Ethan mumbled, knowing you never switch from black.

"Thank you," He said, then the game started.

The word “Imposter” appeared on your screen in red, yours and Corpse's characters underneath.

As the game started, you thought no one could hear you so you spoke to your chat. "His voice was so deep, what the fuck? Holy shit that was hot, i'm gonna-"

"(Y/n)," Rae laughed, "You know we're playing proximity chat, right."

You blushed as you realized and said "Ha, anyways..." and ran to start faking tasks.

You ended up in electrical with Karl. "(Y/n)! My good friend, my buddy, you would never kill me right? Haha..." He said.

"Of course not, Karl! My good friend, my buddy. Why, I'm not even imposter," I said as i quickly dipped into the vent and back out, making him laugh.

I decided to show him because I knew Karl wouldn't say anything, and it's funny.

"Oh that's good then. Are you sure you're not imposter?"

"Mhm, pretty sure," You said, going back in. As you came out, Sykkuno walked in and froze.

"Uh, (Y/n)?"

"Fuck... Karl run! Go!" You said, Karl starting to leave. You walked closer and quickly killed Sykkuno then vented to security.

"That was close..." You told your chat.

You saw Corpse as you made your way around the map and walked into navigation.

"Hey, Corpse, how ya doing?"

"Ah you know, good. Just being crewmate and all."

You stifled a laugh, "Oh yeah I feel that, buddy."

"Yeah because there's no way that i'm imposter. No way i could be faking tasks and there's no possible way you could be the other imposter" He said quickly.

"For sure. Hypothetically speaking, though, if you were imposter, how many people would you have killed by now?"

"I would say probably around two."

"Interesting," You said right before a body was reported. It was Sykkuno's. Felix and Rae were also dead.

"WHAT!" Corpse yelled.

"Where was the body at?" Sean laughed.

"Uh I found it in electrical," Bretman said.

"I'm pretty sure Karl was in there earlier."

You calmly said, "It's not Karl, I was with him for most of the round."

"How do we know the two of you aren't imposters?" Sean asked.

"I was alone with him, he would have taken the chance to kill me."

"No, he's your best friend."

"He's also ruthless,"

"TRUE! SO TRUE!" Karl yelled.

"So skip?" Corpse asked.

Everyone agreed and the voting was skipped.

The next round, I spent with Ethan. He was pretending to be mad at me because Sean said Karl was my best friend.

"What happened to Blue Boi Buddies, huh?!" He exclaimed.

"Neither of our hair is even blue anymore!" You argued back.

You were in reactor with him when Corpse and Poki walked in. He hit the lights and you took it as a sign to double kill. He killed Poki, you killed Ethan, and the two of you made your way to electrical to help fix lights.

You and Corpse went the opposite direction of reactor after the lights were fixed, Karl going with you.

Poki's body was reported. That double kill only left you, Corpse, Sean, Karl and Bretman. You only needed two more kills.

"I still think it's Karl and (Y/n)," Sean said quickly.

"I was with (Y/n) the whole time," Corpse said, "In fact, I think it's you."

"That does make sense. Why so quick to accuse others, Sean?" You ask.

"It's not me!" He yelled.

"I actually agree with Corpse and (Y/n)," Bretman said.

"I was with you!"

We all voted for Sean, him voting for Karl. Sean was ejected.

When you load into spawn, you wait for the kill cool down and kill Bretman, saving Karl.

"Victory" appeared on your screen.

"God damn it!" Sean yelled.

"Good job, (Y/n)," Corpse said lowly.

You smiled, a slight blush on your cheeks, "You too Corpse."

"Their voices go together and they're a fuckin dream team? What have i done...," Felix sighed.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

A few more games went by. Most of them you and Corpse spent together, whether you were both crewmates or if one of you was imposter.

You really enjoyed his company and you actually got along with him pretty well.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

"(Y/n), before we get serious, I have one question to ask you." Corpse said as both of your characters stopped.

"What's that?" You giggled.

"Do you know Bingus?"

"Bingus? As in, our lord and savior, Bingus?"

You could hear the smile in his voice, "It's settled, you're my wife now."

This made both of you laugh and your chat go crazy.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

Eventually, people had to start leaving. You said your goodbyes to everyone and left the discord call and the game.

You set stream to where it was just your face cam.

"Guys, what should we do now?"

You saw some people asking what time it was for you.

"It's 3 AM right now... I’m not tired though.” You had been streaming for a few hours; You never even noticed how late it got.

People in chat were yelling at you to go to sleep, making you chuckle.

“How about we do a quick QnA, then at 3:30 I go to bed. Deal?”

You watched as the chat filled with questions. They obviously seemed to like the idea.

“‘Who is your best friend? Karl or Ethan?’ Neither, Alex Quackity. Next question.” You answered quickly.

You laughed, “I’d like to clarify that that’s a joke, i love all my friends equally.”

You answered more questions. Some were from new viewers asking basic questions, some were about future streams and videos. 

“‘How do you feel about people shipping you and Corpse?’“ People are already shipping us?” You laughed, “I’ve said before that I’m okay with shipping, as long as the other person is too. I think it’s funny.”

You continued to read chat. “Wait, we’re trending?”

You checked Twitter and “#(your and corpse’s ship name)” was trending in the US.

You laughed as you scrolled through the tag, “Oh this is so funny.”

“Fanart already?! You guys are so talented!”

You read chat, looking for more questions. You saw people telling you that it’s 3:30.

“Okay fine, a deal’s a deal. I hope you all have, or had, a great day and I’ll see you guys later. Depending on what time it is for you, you should also get some sleep. Stay hydrated, love you!” You ended stream.

⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒⌒

You scrolled through Twitter as you laid in bed, liking fanart and dumb memes. Also replying to a few of your friends’ tweets.

karl :) @/KarlJacobs_

@/(your username) what the honk ?

*clip of you saying Quackity was your best friend*           

You liked the tweet and replied, “karl no,,, look away,,,”

You continued scrolling, feeling your eyes get droopy. Your eyes fell closed but quickly opened when your phone vibrated. It was a DM. 

From Corpse.

You two had followed each other earlier.

Corpse: hey (y/n), just wanted to say you’re really cool and i’d love to play again with you soon 

You smiled, a light blush spreading across your cheeks, and replied.

You: i’d love to, corpse

Corpse: ok, see you soon ‘wife’

You: back at ya, ‘husband”

Corpse: :)

You: :)

[moxfirefly]

Can i get a breeding kink prompt With mikey please? 👉👈

👁👄👁 I am-

Listen, do not get me started on this...

Okay here we gooooo

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

Michelangelo had everything down to a science, which he always found hilarious since he wasn’t the science guy here. But ironic joke aside, he truly did have it all thought out to the point of near perfection.

Because Spring sucks.

Spring is annoying.

Everyone’s in a mood, everyone is in a state of perpetual chest pumping and nothing gets done. Mikey had long since learned that skating the excessive energy out of his system worked fabolously, combine that with some much needed alone time with a skin magazine or video and he could call it a night.

Spring is so annoying.

With you though, he had glossed over in a vague matter that maybe it would be best for you to hang back for a few days. Naturally that was odd, Mikey sometimes wanted to glue you to his shell if he could. A quick look of the calendar filled in the blanks, mutterings about approaching Spring Fever as they had named it were ongoing on the nights you’d been there. Mikey was being courteous, nay he was being shy at the very least.

Curiosity on your end though, would be your undoing.

So you packed your overnight bag with the essentials . He was probably overselling this whole Heat issue, it wasn’t like Mikey’s libido was at a soft two even on a bad day. That man could watch you shaver your legs with a full on mud mask on your face and still pop a boner. Naturally though you maybe should’ve listened

but your feet were already taking to the nearest Lair entrance.

Mikey felt antsy , even after spending three hours on his board. He even took out his old normal board to practice basic tricks on it, he’d played video games for an hour, thought about you for another hour and still his skin felt electric. The air in the Lair tonight was about the same, everyone was locked away to avoid unnecessary fighting. He figured he’d shower, think about you once again and retreat back to his room.

He felt a little better after the hot shower, he’d even found that you had left one of those sweet smelling body gels. That had significantly distracted him and now he couldn’t stop smelling himself, for he smelled like you. In his trance he neglected to perhaps notice that your scent had picked up a little more but he figured it was himself.

He nudged the curtain aside that led to his room (Raph had moved out a few months back) and tossed his towel somewhere in the chaos.

Then he saw you there, on his bed, flipping away on some random magazine he had lying around looking like a dream. Mikey froze on the spot, you looked up and smiled.

“So what’s the big deal? Aside from how funeral like quiet everything is around, has anybody sprouted a third arm?” You joked whilst setting the magazine aside, you sat up and assessed him. He was freshly showered, smelling of your favorite shower gel and wearing nothing but his boxer briefs.

For Mikey though, his literal reptile brain was only making him notice how gorgeous you looked in nothing but some stay at home shorts and a flimsy oversized crop top. Naturally you had settled into your relaxed attire once here, most of the time it consisted of things Mikey either outgrew or didn’t use anymore. He approached, tentatively.

“No third arms dude, just you know; tension in the air” He chuckled and so did you, you couldn’t help but notice how fixated his gaze was. He looked at every little detail of yours more intently, enjoying it even more. Mikey reached out and ran his knuckles across your chin. You kept your smile, sneaking down to press a soft kiss on his wrist. “What’ya been up to then?” You not so innocently asked as he started playing with your hair.

Mikey’s mind was too clouded, it had been clouded all day with scandalous thoughts of you. Even now as you sat in front him, the picture of sweetness and loveliness all he wanted was to consume himself in you. “Thinking of you” He answered distracted by ideas of pulling your hair, watching your mouth open in a gasp, body shaking with pleasure.

Maybe spring didn’t have to be so annoying...

“Well I’m here now, you should’ve just said so” You liked how concentrated he seemed, fascinated with your hair or with caressing your cheek. You also didn’t mind that he was barely dressed, all strong legs and thin waist for display. You wondered just how badly he was fighting to not make his arousal so evident.

Then his hand retreated and he got down on both knees. His hands rested on your knees and you swore his pupils were blown out already, you pressed your legs tightly together.

“I can smell it, don’t hide it”

That sentence shook you. Your face flushed at his words but it only served for another shot of heat to pool beneath you. Mikey seemed so different, that cheery flirtatious nature of his wasn’t all quite there and you couldn’t help but wonder what lay in store for you.

He hooked his fingers in your shorts and pulled them down slowly, his excited energy was there but more zeroed in on the task at hand. You let him take them off for you, soon your underwear as well, his firm but gentle hand nudged you backwards. You laid down, breathing anticipation and exhaling desire when you felt those strong hands of his spread you.

“You smell so fucking good” Any and all rational thought had exited. All he wanted was to taste you, fuck you and claim you as his. He bit the inside of your thigh, enjoying the muscle tremble. When you felt a string of spit on your core and that wet warm tongue flick up your slit, you bit down on your lip. Mikey was never controlled, especially in this activity, he went at it like it was his last meal. But this honed in method left you shakey and needy.

He wanted you shakey and needy.

Thus he did the same, licking and sucking slowly, calculatedly. You looked down, his meticulous attacks making you squeeze your legs against his head. That brought a lengthy groan out of him, his hands gripped your thighs more and his movements picked up a little more in forcefulness. Soon enough he had you teetering on the precipice, close and closer and each second you swore he’d give it he took it back. You whined frustratedly, hand smacking down on the bed. Your heated gaze found Mikey’s, mouth wet with your essence, pupils still so blown you could barely make out his baby blues. He sucked a finger into his mouth and found your opening, your eyes rolled back into your head.

“You’re so damn wet, like you always get this wet whenever I eat you out” He was knuckle deep, making you crossed eyed as he found your spot and thrusted. “I wish you could feel what I feel when I slide into this pussy” He angled his finger, loving how you bit down hard to muffle a moan. His thumb found your clit and you nearly sobbed. “Fuck you’re so good, you’re all mine aren’t you? This...” He made a come hither motion with said digit. “This all mine?” He asked, rubbing slow circles on your clit.

You nodded vigorously, anything for him to just apply a little more pleasure to hit that spot with just a little more force.

Then Mikey was pulling out his finger and sucking the digit clean.

Yet another frustrated sound left you and you swore he smirked. When he got up, you bit your lip. He was fully hard, leaking and staining the front of his underwear. Good, served him right for the torturing. You made do of your shirt, not missing the hungry look when he saw you were bare beneath the shirt. Opting for some retaliation you fondled them, pinching and kneading. Mikey’s eyes followed them as he kicked off his underwear.

When he gripped your waist you figured he was going to climb on you.

You didn’t expect him to quite literally turn you around and manuveour you onto all fours.

This wasn’t an usual pose for Mikey, it’s not to say he didn’t indulge in it but he preferred to watch you ride him or to be so sweetly spooned against you. This felt, primal. He still seemed unsatisfied that he couldn’t watch you, so he improvised.

Once again wrapping an strong forearm around your waist he took you towards a small dresser that had a mirror. Your wide eyes were comical at this point, this was so unlike him and yet you found yourself so insanely turned on by it. He nudged your legs apart with his foot, hand on your lower back he guided himself in with his other.

That initial burn would never stop being your favorite and Mikey had full view of your eyes leaving their sockets. That gravely churr startled you, his usually didnt run that deep more along the lines of a pleasant purr. You clenched around him and his mouth hung open. That very sensation was something he could dream about awake. He had that feeling committed to memory, often times trying to replicate it with his hand whenever he missed you.

“Jesus fucking hell, Mike please move” You rested on your forearms, trying to move back against him but he held a firm hand on your lower back denying it. He remained quiet, you whined. “Please babe, please I want it so bad” Your eyes drifted to the mirror catchi. Mikey’s heated gaze and grin, he was definitely eating this display up.

He leaned over you, mouth close to your ear. “If... if I start I’m gonna keep going until you’re filled up with my cum” He tested his words by starting to move, hands gripping your waist tightly. The relief that washed over you was immediate, this angle was always a weak point for you so you knew lasting would be difficult.

Then Mikey slammed into you with enough force to rattle the dresser and it’s contents. Your mouth opened in a silent gasp, you watched how consumed he was feeling you. “Oh fuck Mikey, that’s so good” You felt him pulse inside of you, always one for praises this one.

“You’re gonna take it for me? Mhm?” He thrusted hard, demanding. You threw your head back, a blissed out grin breaking out on your face. “God yes, all of it baby, fill me up” You moaned, more so when he wrapped his arm across you chest and held you against his hard plastron. “Yes you are, you’re gonna take it all, every last drop” He shoved his finger into your mouth, pace quickening, churring nonestop.

He continued his words, each one making you hotter, the two of you were going to be a blushing mess after this. “Gonna fill you up, knock you up” He grunted against your ear, the angle was slightly uncomfortable but you were too lost in the lust to bother. You nodded trying to say ‘yes yes yes’ with his thick digit in your mouth.

Mikey felt you tighten so suffocatingly hard that you bit down pretty hard on his finger. He took it out just as you started to scream with your pent up release. “That’s my giiiirl” He groaned against you, slamming two more times before spilling himself in you. It felt never ending, each spurt deep within, Mikey’s short hard thrust making you slump forward in his arms. “Fu-uck Mike” Your voice shook, legs trembled as he emptied himself inside of you. He remained there, buried so far in, loving the mixture of his mess and yours.

Mikey bit down on your shoulder, hips starting to move again, his member twitching back to life. Your eyes shot open, watching him through the mirror. He kept you against him, this time by gripping both your breast.

His previous statement swam inside your foggy brain.

‘If I start, I’m not gonna stop...’

Spring was officially your favorite season.

[vanityloves]

🎫 here's a gush pass! feel free to gush about whichever f/o you want, however much you want, then send this ask to 3 other selfshippers!

oh man, thank you jsjsj ive gotten a few of these but ive been too anxious to actually go off ab my f/o but, lets fucking gooooo!

can i talk ab the actual animation of the source material is that allowed?

they gave us this but we ended up with

WHICH LISTEN- I enjoy n love regardless. I just find the contrasts in phases fascinating and funny. I loved his appearance in phases 1 and 2; what a fucking iconic character design. The animation is so endearing and amazing- the thicker lines, the fluidity, the range. Like the first gif that shows the vibrations of the vehicle in his shoulders/shirt? The simplistic art style was nice and even if hes Hard On The Eyes, I'm like 🥴 ok ugly ❤.

Not like the newer mvs are any less quality content - its nice to see the use of thick and thinner lines and there's definitely a different feel to it - more child friendly or easy going? Idk how to explain it. Murdoc as a character is still very, Not Child Friendly, and Im always like :cursed emoji: when someone says that their 14 year old watches their videos like help, his dick is out in at least 3 dif vids (censored ofc but man).

They definitely lost me after the 4th phase though and many people argue that the band/music lost its meaning, which i can honestly agree with (esp when they didnt name officially name 4, 5 and 6. Im p sure ppl refer to 4 as We Are Still Humanz).

I was never an avid/active fan of keeping up with the characters and didnt really think they had any story anyways, i was like "feel good inc is sexy. melancholy hill's a banger" so honestly, finding out that these apes actually have lore was fun.

Murdoc being the given this tragic backstory made my eyes Zoom, and ofc I was like "oh youre funny looking and sad. I want you ♡." In a weird way, I take a lot of comfort that 'we both have shit parents' and 'no one really thought we'd amount to anything'. to be fair, i haven't accomplished anything yet, and even if hes a bunch of pixels who i know doesnt really exist, its kind of motivating bc he never gave up? A literal quote from him being "If there���s a dream in your heart, never let anyone tell you you’ve got no talent. Get out there, embarrass yourself, and prove to the world you’ve got no talent." With how many failures hes faced he never stopped trying to prove himself worthy of attention and fame and love, which is ambitious and kind of intimidating with how much confidnece he has.

Hes a complete bastard of a man and not even close to being a good person. He's definitely complicated but can be boiled down to "just an abusive asshole", which, hey, fair. I hate the way he treats 2D, its so toxic and terrible. Honestly, its inexcusable and he needs to apologize, grow and learn a LOT and god knows he needs therapy.

I think the most tragic thing ab his character is that he basically ended up like his father and to some extent, he acknowledges it. His bad habits and behaviors stem from abuse and neglect which doesnt excuse his actions but, "man hands on misery to man." I feel like theres a haunting part to his whole life - we don't know much about his mother and brother but from assuming things, I know they weren't innocent, clean, or soft spoken, let alone, kind. I think he has a "It runs in the family" mentality and gives into it bc there's no use in running from something so deeply engraved within him.

But as a man of contradiction, hes shown to care, despite "hating everything, including himself". To be short, his father was a failure and a man thats never worked for his own money, so he contradicts that and escapes that part of 'failure running in the family' by forming Gorillaz. I do think theres something way more ab his character in that regard. I think theres a lot that he needs to work on but he's escaped a part of that mindset, and his 'Plastic Beach'. I wonder what theyre gonna do with valley of the pagans thing.

I guess as a band, theyre not gonna show a lot of "behind the scenes" stuff like that. We wont know if he ever gets help, or apologizes, or even feels sorry - its up to us to decide which is a safe game to play on Their Behalf.

People are upset that hes actually cleaned up a bit and is shown to be nicer bc they miss having that disgusting, cruel man which again, I understand. He has always been the antagonist to the entire band. But as someone that likes to see people happier n mellow (or, boring) rather than doing shit and compensating for their depression, its nice to see that type of development (or downgrade, depending on how you see it).

This could be Their (read: jamie and damon) way of being lazy by making him 'mellow out w/ age' or whatever it is. It definitely seems to woobify his character and intentions but well, His Main Goal, Was To Blow Up. And Act Like He Dont Know Nobodaaayyy argargarg and guess what? He's already made it- he's successful, he's rich, he's famous, he's adored. Now what? Maybe this is just his way of taking it easy from here on out - who knows.

Gorillaz definitely took a turn after all the brand deals so it lost its meaning (since one of the phases had a 'fuck capitalism' message) and with that, Murdoc is no longer allowed to be the stank bitch hes was always meant to be, no more obvious sex and drugs, for the new gen 🥴 ironically a lot of songs 'today' are always complained ab being ab sex, drugs, and whatever, but they def needed to step on the breaks when Money/Companies got involved. So here we have The Wigglez 😌💕

ANYWAYS, I LOVE HIM LOTS, HAVING MANY THOUGHTS

[fogsrollingin]

Title: in this house, ch 2 Author: fogsrollingin Fandom: Supernatural Story details: Sam & Dean, rated PG-13, 2k words. Summary: getting out of this house. My next entry for @whumptober2020! Prompts filled are no. 14 brand & no. 15 magical healing & no.31 torture A/N: all my amazing readers who let me know they wanted more of this story (when I’d planned it to just be a very intense one-shot, here we gooooo! 😆 Chapter 1 on Tumblr || Full story available on AO3 || Fanfiction.net too || INCREDIBLE art inspired by this fic: Hurt Sam by @midnightsilver on tumblr, uncensored version on pillowfort and now also on AO3!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ in this house ch2 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Furniture crashed overhead, Dean's team of hunters fighting, feet pounding over the floorboards, the sounds of screaming, hissing vampires. Sometimes their sounds would stop abruptly, then a heavy thunk to indicate their decapitated melons had just hit the floor and it was like music to Dean's ears. Macabre as it may be, it was a dream come true right now as he huddled in this cage with his brother shaking and clinging to him out of his mind with fear.

Sam had cleared up enough to say his name though. That was a start. Dean thought about their next moves. Or tried to. He blinked his eyes, shook his head, summoning the wherewithal to get brain's gears back online.

Damn it, you planned for this! Dean scolded himself. The harder he focused, the stronger this rushing feeling bubbled out overwhelming him, filling his senses up with cotton and getting him too jittery to think straight.

"Fuck," Dean muttered, hauling his shivering, traumatized little brother up against him closer. Sam went with it. Dean ducked his own head into his brother's disgusting hair. They were wasting time. He kept telling himself that to spur himself into action but... there were so many things, so many ways Dean could help Sam and as he ran down the mental list of them he just didn't know which came first.

Dean didn't know how long they stayed like that hugging each other in the cage like they weren't free, like Dean had simply joined his brother enslaved inside. It felt like a purgatory Dean could live with. After everything they'd been through, to just be together even in that cage was enough.

"Hey, okay guys," a low voice smoothed over them. Sam didn't react but Dean recognized Mallory's voice. She was a medic turned hunter that'd arrived last week with her friend, Gerald. She hovered over the cage's door.

She moved and Dean couldn't see, her dark brown skin and black outfit perfect camouflage. "Don't!" Dean begged. Sam scuttled closer. Dean didn't know what he was begging for. Don't come into the cage? Don't shatter this moment? Don't you touch him?

Thundering steps of so many people erupted behind her. Sam yelped and Dean grunted, clutching Sam back.

"Stop!" Mallory ordered and the feet coming down the stairs did as they were told. Dean heard some jubilance in their tones, wanting to clear the basement of these blood suckers and high five Dean. Instead Mallory's voice rang out crystal clear. "Go clear the rest of the house. Burn the bodies out back. I want Gerald down here though. Gerald?"

"Yeah, here," a man replied softly, an easy gait stepping down the stairs past the others who'd started making their way back up. He appeared next to Mallory and crouched down with her to talk. His skin was a little lighter than hers' so Dean could make him out in the dark better. He was biting his nails looking at them, brows furrowed with worry.

"I'd like you to stay down here. Make sure no one's in the other cages."

"You got it," he murmured softly. He got up slowly in deference, it seemed, and moved away.

"All right. Dean?" Mallory asked.

"Y-yeah," Dean gruffed from the human ball they'd made, the two of them curled around each other so tight now. Dean didn't want it to end but somewhere in the back of his mind he was reminding himself that Mallory and Gerald were the best, his favorites. He couldn't remember exactly why. His brain was fried right now but he responded to her voice.

Something slid into the cage out of the corner of his eye, Mallory pushing his backpack inside within reach of him. The first aid kit was in there, a water bottle, some of Sam's clothes, hot chemical packs, an emergency blanket. Dean had packed everything he could think of.

"Do you want me to come in?" Mallory asked evenly.

Dean stared at the backpack and shook his head.

"Can I walk you through this?"

Dean's face screwed up and he let out a sob. He nodded though.

"Okay Dean, it's okay. You're doing great. You've got your brother. He's safe now. You're gonna take care of him. You two will be home eating takeout at a shitty motel in no time," she lied with so much charm and Dean was nodding in agreement, engaged, growing more and more aware.

"Now what you gotta do first is lay Sam down and examine him, Dean. You gotta know how hurt he is. Cuts, bruises, broken bones, come on Dean, you gotta see."

Dean nodded to Mallory, his face still buried in Sam's hair. "Okay, okay Sammy, you ready?"

Sam shuddered but let Dean gently pry him free until he was sitting. Dean wasn't going to make him lie down.

"Sam, where does it hurt?" Dean asked stiffly. Mallory waited behind him patiently and he felt better she wasn't pressuring him. Dean might have had a minor freakout just now but he still had the last say on how to handle his brother. 

Sam shivered and shook. "It doesn't."

"What?"

"Hungry."

Dean heard Mallory scrambling at the backpack, the sound of little pretzel bags crinkling before one landed next to Sam's feet. Sam grabbed it and tore into it.

A rolling sound and Dean turned to see Mallory had pushed the water bottle to tumble its way to them. Dean grabbed it and put it within Sam's reach.

"Sam... can I take a look at you?" Dean asked hesitantly as Sam wolfed down the last of the pretzels. Mallory threw another one and without acknowledging her Sam pounced on the second helping.

"They'd heal me. After the torture. Magic." He spoke quietly between crumbly breaths. "Except here." He twisted and lifted his leg to show his right thigh.

Dean tilted his head to see, Mallory squinted and leaned forward.

Dean swore. Mallory gasped.

"Sammy what the fuck is that?"

"It's a brand," Sam replied wetly.

Gerald came back just then, his steps silent and graceful. "Nobody."

Mallory took Gerald's hand and squeezed. "Could you tell the others to go? These two-"

"I understand. I'll tell 'em," Gerald whispered. "I'll be upstairs if you need anything." He squeezed her hand back and made his way.

Dean turned back to his brother. "Sammy, can I-?" he asked as he moved in to look at the wound again. Sam nodded and leaned against the cage wall for balance as Dean lifted his right knee up to see again. If Sam was embarrassed by Dean's proximity to his twig and berries he didn't show it. He'd slowed his snacking, interspersing pretzel bites with gulps from the water bottle. He seemed dazed, but it was a definite level up from what he'd been before.

Dean ducked and examined Sammy's leg. He clenched his jaw so as not to disturb whatever shell-shocked peace Sam was in right now but damned if he didn't want to curse up a storm right now.

All Sam's leg hair had been burned off, in its place deep carvings in a design Dean couldn't even begin to make out with so much scabbing and swollen skin marring it. All the cuts had needed stitches but instead they'd been reopened repeatedly. It was red, moist with pus, clearly infected.

Dean set Sam's leg down and felt his forehead. He glanced back at Mallory. "He needs antibiotics."

"He need a hospital?"

Dean got himself up into a kneel, put his hands on his knees and stared at his voracious brother chowing down on a fourth packet (if he'd kept count correctly) of pretzels. "No. No I can take him, I think."

Mallory scooted in and Dean let her. She was holding a huge white square of gauze the size of his hand. There were ugly brown lines glazed on it where she'd applied the antiseptic. Dean looked at her for a second. She looked up and understood what he needed.

"We're gonna bandage the injury so we can get him dressed. And then we're gonna get him out of this cage and then we're gonna move him out of this house."

Dean's eyes watered and he nodded. She gave him the medical tape.

"Okay, okay, okay," Dean muttered to himself, getting into position. "Sammy, you ready?"

"Yeah."

Dean pressed the bandage gently along Sam's flayed flesh and Sam only whimpered once, breathed heavily through the rest of it as Dean taped. Dean knew it meant his pain tolerance had heightened. The heavy weight of that knowledge settled sick in his stomach. It would never go away. "So good, good job Sammy, so brave, you got this," Dean babbled, not paying attention to what he was even saying anymore.

The instant he was done, Mallory handed him Sam's black cotton sweatpants he'd brought and he helped Sam into them. Next was a plain white t-shirt. Sam moaned and reached for Dean a couple times. He'd fall against his chest for a break to catch his breath and Dean would hold him through it, rub his back, tell him he smelled awful.

They scooted Sam out of the cage, taking care not to jostle him. Dean felt lighter as they crossed the threshold, the repulsive air of a torture dungeon still somehow fresher now they were out of that godforsaken cage.

"Gonna have this thing melted down," Dean gruffed.

He got under Sam's arm, Mallory under the other, and together they counted to ten to lift Sam up so he could walk.

Sam groaned and weakly placed his feet flat on the floor, a valiant attempt to take some of his weight but they were lifting him too fast.

Mallory and Dean were softly congratulating him as he rose almost to full height. He gave them a strained smile before closing his eyes and passing out.

Dean's alarmed shouts for Sam to wake up again mingled with Mallory's yells for Gerald as they both struggled to give Sam a controlled fall.

Gerald pounded down the stairs and stopped at the tableau before him. Mallory out of breath and stressed as she refastened her pony tail with hands trembling with adrenaline. Dean hovered over his brother solicitously. The kid was clothed now which was a plus for Gerald, yet unconscious, a new minus.

"We need some muscle, sugar," Mallory explained. "Sam passed out."

Gerald came around and crouched down on Sam's other side across from Dean. "Well now I'm really happy you put clothes on the kid," he joked good-naturedly. Dean huffed. Gerald looked down. "So this is your little brother, huh?"

"Yep." Dean's chin quivered. He brushed Sam's hair off his face.

Gerald patted his back a few times. "C'mon, get it together."

Dean nodded, rubbed his face. "Right, okay, uh. We gotta do a two-person carry because he's injured. Back of his right thigh is fucked up."

"Got it."

Gerald got Sam's broad shoulders, Dean his brother's long legs, and together they tromped up the stairs.

"Should burn the whole house down," Gerald muttered as they hit the landing. Mallory followed up. She opened the emergency blanket and let it fall over Sam as Dean and Gerald carried him through the house. There were no bodies, no heads, only the blood stains in the grooved, pockmarked floorboards stood testament to the righteous slaughter carried out less than an hour ago.

"I couldn't agree more," Dean said as he watched Gerald fold into the backseat of the Impala, carrying Sam in with him. The emergency blanket crinkled and fell to the ground. As soon as Sam's butt cleared the seat, Dean set his feet down. He took Sam's shoulders and let Gerald get out through the other side.

"Wait," Sam whispered. Dean froze and looked down.

"Sam? Sammy? You with us?"

Sam's eyes rolled under his lids. He swallowed and nodded. "Wait."

"For what?"

"To burn it. I wanna..." Sam wheezed and coughed. "be there. For it."

A rush of relief slipped down Dean's spine and spread out, warming him.

"Damn straight, little brother. You'll throw the first match."

Sam chuckled thickly. "Yeah." His head fell onto Dean's shoulder, passed out again. Dean kept his arm around Sam even when he noticed the kid was drooling on him.

They were gonna be okay.

Fin

A/N: Marking this as complete again but hey who knows I might tack on another chapter - that branding is a mystery that might be worth exploring 👀😆

Thank you so much for reading! Please comment/kudos/reblog/vote/give to charity on my behalf (hahah) if you can spare the time

Happy Ides of October! 🎃🍂  xoxo ~ Alex.

[libralita]

Title: Rhythm of War

Author: Brandon Sanderson

Summary: After forming a coalition of human resistance against the enemy invasion, Dalinar Kholin and his Knights Radiant have spent a year fighting a protracted, brutal war. Neither side has gained an advantage.

Now, as new technological discoveries begin to change the face of the war, the enemy prepares a bold and dangerous operation. The arms race that follows will challenge the very core of the Radiant ideals, and potentially reveal the secrets of the ancient tower that was once the heart of their strength.

At the same time that Kaladin Stormblessed must come to grips with his changing role within the Knights Radiant, his Windrunners face their own problem: As more and more deadly enemy Fused awaken to wage war, no more honorspren are willing to bond with humans to increase the number of Radiants. Adolin and Shallan must lead the coalition’s envoy to the honorspren stronghold of Lasting Integrity and either convince the spren to join the cause against the evil god Odium, or personally face the storm of failure.

Rating: ★★★★★

Review:

In my Dawnshard review I predicted the back would say mother of machines and it diddddd.

Oh nooooooooooo it’s Taravangian that will have the story oh nooooo

Odium trapes them? Revolt. Let’s gooooo!

NONONONONONONON don’t go to Mraize.

Sja reminds me of vapor from Skyward.

Wait a minute wait a minute Radiant HQ is called the tower and there’s death rattles about the tower. Gotta reread those.

The sibling is the child of Honor and Cultivation.

Noooooooooooooo Jasnah, Dalinar don’t go

Also this reminds me of Sadeas’ betrayal.

SAZEDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Ahhhh so Radiant is where Shallan’s brain went. Got it.

THE STUMP IS COMING ALONG

IT’S ONE OF THE THINGS FROM ERA 2!!!!!!!!!

Pattern keep away from Wit

Gallant is gonna talk back someday.

I see Shad’s contribution is paying off.

FELT

I’m sure that the woman who sees Shallan’s agents as tools is totally the woman who wants to end slavery for the lols.

ADOLINNNNNNNNNN

SAZED YOU SPOKE TO OTHER SHARDS?! Wholesome bean.

Some kind of shade?

Brandon Brandon Brandon are you…giving us the shard names/ NOW?

Whimsy. Mercy. Valor.

Kal can you go talk to Taln and maybe Ash?

This…this is what Kaladin should be doing.

I just realized that Elhokar might have been in the unseen court. Now I’m sad.

Formless probably represents her father.

Wait nooooooooooooo SZETH STAY THE FUCK HERE!!! SZETHHHHHHHHHH Kal, it’s up to you to swear the fourth ideal.

GAV NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

SEBARIAL. Finally this book can reach its true potential.

God this makes Misborn Era 2 so much more stressful.

Is it one of the spren Venli has?

Ummmmmmmm ummmmmmmm ummmmmmm are you talking about Wax??????

Did Adolin just figure out Mraize’s plan?

She’s…held a cube?

Poor Honor Spren Tsundere.

Hello Venli. Nice to see you here in your own damn book.

The team must surprise the Honor Spren. Something they have never seen before. Something that will right the wrongs of the past. You know what you must do Adolin.

Kal take your own advice and talk to your parents.

Not all spren…were imagined…by men. Oh…oh god. No no no I am not about to think about these implications.

Okay clearly lift would be a good pick to go on this mission because all she would need is food to become awesome.

TSUNDERE SPRENNNN SAVE HIMMMMMMMM

Pattern….

UGH ADOLIN YOU KNOW WHAT YOU NEED TO DO. C’MON!!!

Nooooooooooooooooo Adolinnnnnnnnnnnn just…just…ughhhhhhhhh

Navani don’t go zip.

Brandon I swear to god if you kill someone off screen I’m going to yeet you into a chasm.

Wait a minute is the sibling speaking to Navani? Did I already guess this?

NAVANNNNNNNNIIIII I TOLD YOU NOT TO LET GO OF THE SPHEREEEEEEEEEEEEE

Flame spren at edgy looking.

We’re doing this nowwwww?

Dabbid??

“Storm off with the lectures for once, Father!”—Page 494

Satisfying.

Also Brandon we’re half way through and there’s another climax.

Moash is hereeeeee.

Navani, my love, now is not the time.

…Hire Navani? Excuse me? Navani….

“Regardless, please make yourself known to me when you travel my lands. It is distressting that you think you need to move in the shadows.”—Page 535

Wholesome bean. I love him.

Oh Lirin….

“Poor Kaladin. There was freedom available for his old friend. Two freedoms, in fact. But he doubted Kaladin would ever accept the same freedom as Vyre, so he offered him the other one. The sweet peace of nonexistence.”—Page 551

Ahhh so he is a bastard. Got it.

“He knew it, sure as he knew the sun was hot, and that it circled Roshar forever.”

Um….

You…he…MOASH THAT MOTHER FUCKER. Redemption is a theme.

“PERHAPS. YOU COULD INFLUENCE HIM IN SMALL WAYS ONLY. PERHAPS EACH NIGHT, WHEN HE SLUMBERS…HE THINKS OF YOU STILL, AND THERE IS MORE. A CONNECTION BECAUSE OF YOUR PAST, YOUR SHARED DREAMS. ANY BOND SUCH AS THAT CAN BE MANIPULATED.

WILL THIS BE ENOUGH? IF WE SHOW HIM VISIONS, WILL THAT BREAK HIM?

‘It will be a start. I can bring him to the brink. Get him to step up to the ledge.’

THEN WHAT?

‘Then we find a way to make him jump,’ Moash said softly.”—Page 554

You know I have been told that redemption is a theme in Stormlight Archive.

So I have a theory that the Radiant Spren are some way connected to different main cultures on Roshar. So Althei are Honor Spren. Azish are High Spren and now Shallan’s notes say that Cultivation Spren are merchants so now that slots well Thaylen. Peak spren are…probably Horneaters but who knows.

Ooooooo do I smell romance for Lift?

Wyndle is so cute.

“An old flute that Wyndle said looked strange.”

*Covers face* oh my god she has Wit’s flute. Go give that to Kaladin.

Brandon you’re just going to drop Nightwatcher lore? Now? “Why…if Mother is involved…perhaps this isn’t Stormlight you use at all.” ???? Then what is it???

Hmmmmmmm lets not talk about the Sleepless.

OH NOOOOOOO MRAIZE. OH NO HE WANTS TO HUNT LIFT.

Come on dumb Taravangian.

For some reason, Taravangian reminds me of Dr. Marcoh from Fullmetal Alchemist.

I feel like Navani is going to sass the shit out of Raboniel.

“Awespren burst around her in a ring of blue smoke. Soulcasters didn’t hold spren because they were spren. Manifesting in the Physical Realm like Shardblades. Spren became metal on this side. Somehow the ancient spren had been coaxed into manifesting as Soulcasters instead of blades?”—Page 593

I…you…WHAT?

Ralkalest? Interesting name.

“By showing everyone that our lives will all be improved by working together.”

A) I don’t trust you and B) not if Odium yeets Roshar into the sun.

Noooooooooooo Dalinar it’s worseeeeee.

NALE???

Where’s Taln and Ash in all of this?

So many people wearing a lot of rings. Wait, is that Navani?

“Why hadn’t the Sibling mentioned this immediately?”—Page 622

Navani finally understanding Dalinar’s pain.

I love Navani and Kaladin interacting.

*nervous about Mink*

“‘What is a cow?’

‘Big, juicy, delicious. Wish I could still eat them. You don’t seem to have them around here, which I find amazing, as I’m sure there was one somewhere in Sadeas’s lingage. Paternal grandfather perhaps. Watch the highprinces. There’s almost certainly going to be a show.’”—Page 638

1) RIP you can’t eat meat because you were a Dawnshard 2) True 3) Uh oh.

She did that to pocket another Highprince.

Excuse me, who’s Axindweth?! Wait the rings on her fingers. Is she a feruchemist? Did she do something to Venli’s mother?

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck

“‘Grampa,’ Litte Gavinor asked. ‘Was my daddy brave when he died?’”—Page 664

Suffering. Endless suffering. Leave me alone.

Okay, this is good information.

Rlain and Venli reunion!!!

Eshonai and Dalinar interaction!

BRANDON I WAS NOT PROMISED YOUNG BLACKTHORN FEELINGS. LEAVE ME ALONEEEEEE.

Wait is the person writing Rhythm of War Navani? But that doesn’t make sense because Michael Kramer is reading it, usually that means it’s a man reading it. Is it Gavilar?

El? I mean the only El I know is…Elend.

Is Kaladin going to say the Fourth Ideal when he realizes that he can’t save Moash?

I’m glad that El is unknown and there are more than one person talking. Perhaps with every new page a different person is talking. I’ll just leave it to the 17th Shard to crack.

A VOIDSPREN IN A CREMLING? Arclo?

Hesina? Why does Rlain want to meet with Hesina?

Mraize and Rabionel are talking. Also I just realized that Mraize reminds me of Vandal Savage.

LIFTTTTTT!!!

Lifelight? Excuse me? I fucking…hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

I see that Navani has now adopted Kaladin. Good shit. Also I am living for the Navani/Kaladin interaction.

OW WHY MUST I SUFFER?

“Navani turned toward Raboniel, steeling herself against the memories brought forth by the sight of the sword. She could cry for her child again tonight, as she had done many nights in the past. For now, she would not show these creatures her pain.”—Page 732

Hell yeah.

When did Eshonai become British?

“‘That’s annoying,’ Kaladin said.

Yes, it is mildly inconvenient that we have to wind a crank to experience the wonder of making a human being safely levitate hundreds of feet in the air.

‘Pardon, Brightness, but I can usually do it with far less trouble.’

Which is meaningless right now, isn’t it?

‘I suppose it is.’”—Page 743

Look at these two sass each other.

Ivory’s my new favorite.

So, like how gods have metals, do all gods have lights?

Is Venli the one that Navani thinks is insane? I don’t think so?

Navani, you are going to bond with the Sibling. I know it.

I love Navani and the Sibling’s interaction.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

“You are not merely a storm! Dalinar bellowed, his voice changing to rumbles of thunder. You are capable of choice! You hide from that, and in so doing, you are a COWARD!”—Page 821

God I love Dalinar scolding the Stormfather, it’s so funny.

FINALLY DALINAR KNOWS! Also…that’s some interesting font you got there…

“But I have another task. I need to find a way to speak to the god-priest, then convince him to help me rescue Urithiru.”—Page 825

Good luck, kid.

Szeth-son-Honor. Oh my heart. It almost makes up for the fact that I’m so sad for Navani.

Excuse me, Chiri-Chiri is getting a pov. Brandon, stop writing while drunk.

“Szeth froze as the little boy, Gavinor, stepped up to him. He raised a wooden sword hilt-first toward Szeth. The boy should fear him, yet instead he smiled and waggled the sword.

Szeth took it, hesitant.”—Pages 834-835

MY HEART! OH MY GOD THAT’S SO CUTE I COULD DIE. BRANDONNNNNN.

Rysn! You weren’t supposed to tell him!

Poor Rysn. She doesn’t get a break.

Koravari. Did we just get Cultivation’s name?

The Deadeyes are probably sensing something…else.

“The target called himself ‘Sixteen.’”—Page 864

Yep that’s him. (Nope.)

How is that that Shallan shutting out her two other personalities is worse for her?

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hi Nale.

Oh, Shallan must have bonded a different spren and killed it.

Restares is Kalak. Shooketh. But did Gavilar know that? Because wasn’t he speaking with Kalak with Nale. So…I’m confused.

Restares is the one writing this then.

I think I pointed out how Rlain was named Shen like Pashendi.

Remember everyone, redemption is a theme.

WIT!

“You can’t know any of this, because you live on a giant ball of rock full of slime where everything is wet and cold all the time.”—Page 913

Agreed.

“This is a dog, Kaladin. They’re fluffy and loyal and wonderful.”—Pages 913-915

At least we agree, Hoid.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERE’S A DRAGON ON ROSHAR?! AND SHE PREFERS TO HIDE. HOID! BRANDON!

It has been decided that Wit getting a spren was a massively bad idea. (Not that anyone should have been under the delusion that it was a good idea from the start.)

This is very late in my notes but: I don’t know Brandon, why does Azure look Althei while other Nalthians don’t?

Is the dog…Lassie?

I’m going to take notes on Design so I can write a fanfic where Elhokar lived, became a Radiant and then joined the Unseen Court like the nerd he is.

What? Trusting Mraize is stupid? No shit.

So, I was wrong about Shallan pretending to be Ialai…but she might consider being Kalak.

Kalak is more of an asshole than Wit.

I feel like not only the FuckGavilar subreddit will arise out of the this book but also the FuckLirin subreddit. Seriously? Are there any good fathers on Roshar? Dalinar barely just became one.

So the metal is Raysium.

Fuck Dabbid just became my new favorite character. Who the heck would have seen that coming?

LIFT YOU CAN WAKE THEM UP!? Alright plan: either get Lift to Lirin so she can heal a few Radiants for backpack or head straight for that storming pillar and heal the Sibling. LET’S GO GO GO GO! TIME FOR THE THIRD CLIMAX!

Please Tsundere—YOU DID IT!!!

“They could be purchased from a group of strange traveling merchants called the Eyree.”—Page 976

Ire.

So the Rhythm of War is Navani and Rabionel talking?

Did they have sexy time?

Oh no Shallan killed that cryptic

I WAS FUCKING RIGHT! THUDE IS ALIVE. FUCK YEAH!

Radiant killed Ialai

SOBSSSSS FOR SHALLAN

OKAY MAYA SPOKE WAS ALSO CRY WORTHY

I supposed that night scarred Jasnah just as much as Shallan.

Also Witnah confirmed.

No…Teft…no no no no no no no. I sobbed so much. I hate you Brandon so much.

Aww man I feel so fucking bad for Moash that he can’t see. I’m so sorry. I will weep for you endlessly. Bastard. No man or woman has ever been sexier than when Navani Kholin said “Journey before Destination, you bastard.”

Nononononononono

“Final terms are these: A contest of champions to the death. On the tenth day of the month Palah, tenth hour. We each send a willing champion, allowed to meet at the top of Urithiru, otherwise unharmed by either side’s forces. If I win that contest, you will remain bound to the system—but you will return Altehkar and Herdaz to me, with all of their occupants intact. You will vow to cease hostilities and maintain the peace, not working against my allies or our kigndoms in any way.

Agreed. But if I win, I keep everything I’ve won—including your homeland. I still remain bound to this system, and will still cease hostilities as you said above. But I will have your soul. To serve me, immortal. Will you do this? Because I agree to these terms.”—Pages 1178-1179

Fuck.

Cultivation you absolute fool.

“The Lord of Scars, Wit calls him. Well, when you next meet this Lord of Scars, give him a message from me…Tell him we’re done with his meddling. His influence over my people is finished. Also, Wit says to tell him, ‘Deal with your own stupid planet, you idiot. Don’t make me come over there and slap you around again.’”—Page 1197

I was joking before but…no. It’s him.

I guess Kal and Szeth are going to Shinovar. That’ll be some interesting character interaction.

You, sir, do not deserve the name El.

Also we are so fucked. Beyond fucked. Unbelievably fucked. It may be set up that Wit figured out this set up was too perfect however he might. So WE. ARE. SO. FUCKED.

[liveonmtv]

cash machine || kth

pairing: kim taehyung/f!reader genre: fluff & humor. crack actually. crack cocaine. word count: 11.1k warnings: strong language, drinking, an unwated kiss (not from tae), unsanitary jokes (i’m immature), implied sex, vomiting extra: (fr)enemies to lovers, road trip au, rich kids au but it’s barely there also they’re on summer vacation, also this story takes place in the usa JUST to drag the trip out tbh

summary: Jungkook and Seokjin get a little problematic, you have anger issues and Taehyung is under the impression that he killed a man. Also, did you mention that you’re on your way to your unfunny cousin’s wedding? Go on a road trip from Missouri to Las Vegas and you’ll be in for a hilarious yet scary experience! 

a/n: hi! i’m just starting this account out, so reblogging would mean a lot to me. i’m a novice to writing, so criticism is welcome as long as you’re not rude about it. have fun reading (i hope)! i also have a jungkook fic planned next (:

song

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Jungkook has that look in his face, the one he makes where the person sitting opposite of him is about as depraved as he is. He’s given it to you while you were explaining to him how to scam desperate men under the preface of a faux premium Snapchat and he’s given it to Jimin when they were finishing their high school careers and decided to release grasshoppers in the principal’s office. 

However, if there’s one person that’s about as fucked up in the head as he is, it’s Seokjin. The man also suffers from SMSTS as well (Serious Misconception of Sexual Tension Syndrome, and yes, that’s quite a lot of s’s), which doesn’t hurt given the current affairs. 

While Jungkook is aware that Jimin and Hoseok are always up for a bit of mischief, he has ruled them both out as incompetents and moved on to the real deal. Jimin has these rare moments of sanity and Hoseok, as your most loyal little bitchboy, would probably tattle the situation with made-up details to you before the plan is even set in action. 

So, Seokjin it is. 

The story begins in a faraway land before Jungkook knew about the tragic facets of your family’s relationships. Though his friend group is on good terms with your siblings and your other close relatives are aware of their existence and somehow only have good things to say about them, he never thought they’d be invited to your cousin’s wedding. To be fair, you had to do some serious persuasion for your family to allow you to invite six more people to somebody else’s wedding so there’s that factor contributing, but still, the offer is out of the blue.

Somewhere along the way, you went on a tangent about how much you hate your cousin and how your aunt doesn’t have eyebrows and how bothersome it is to look at her face. Your horror stories were mostly you just being your usual dramatic self, but they also revealed that the [L/n]s aren’t what they appear to be. 

You begged and begged for them to accept the invitations, and though Namjoon and Yoongi, unfortunately, couldn’t make it, the others agreed. 

Then arose the problem of the sixth spot that couldn’t be filled. You would’ve just let it be but your parents insisted that if you’re going to ask for something, you should fulfill it until the end. It was Namjoon you’d asked to come first, but he was busy with visiting family back in Seoul, and Yoongi then declared that he didn’t feel like humoring you this once. And that was the exact moment Jungkook decided to strike.

“You want to play matchmaker?” Jin asks. And though he looks almost skeptical, his tone is definitely an excited one. “With [Y/n] and Tae, of all people?” 

“Well yes, think about it logically,” he explains as he is about to say something completely illogical. “She has that sixth spot to fill, she has no other friends and they’re perfect for each other. All the other shit we’re gonna pull is just for fun, though.”  

Jin laughs an evil laugh, always one to be up for evil schemes. Just another evil day in the evil life of Kim Seokjin. “Well, [Y/n] is Tae’s perfect mean girl. And that girl needs either therapy or to get laid, but like, same.” 

“See? You get me.”

“To be fair, I think that goes for all of us. No offense.” 

“None taken,” Jungkook agrees. “Anyways, I was thinking of a… road trip.” 

“Well you didn’t have to be so dramatic about it, this isn’t The Godfather. Though I do feel like I’ve definitely got a bit of Michael Corleone in me.” 

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly at the other fiend’s remark. “You can pray to god all you want. Here in these streets, the only thing we believe in is El Chapo.” 

“I— Okay…” 

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[11:05] LeBruh James: wtf is wrong with u

[11:05] LeBruh James: get help seriously

[11:06] jk the slump god: all i said was that u should invite taehyung as the 6th person to ur cussin’s wedding 

[11:06] jk the slump god: overreacting arent we 

[11:10] LeBruh James: what the hell is a cussin bitch im gonna kill u

[11:13] jk the slump god: not like u have anyone else to invite tho 

[11:13] jk the slump god: hes not that bad ur just being urself

[11:14] LeBruh James: ur literally Not helping ur case rn

[09:45] LeBruh James: none of the girls want to gooooo

[09:45] LeBruh James: fine if it has to be taehyung ig ill live w it

[10:30] jk the slump god: great he already said yes

[10:30] jk the slump god: btw we’re gonna go in las vegas at the end of a road trip u in?

[10:33] LeBruh James: HE SAID YES BEFORE I EVEN INVITED HIM…

[10:33] LeBruh James: EYE. OK.

[10:33] LeBruh James: on one hand i kind of dont want to see any of u but if ur all gone i wont have anything to do b4 the wedding so i guess im in by proxy

[10:34] jk the slump god: lovely doing business with u y/n-chan

[10:36] LeBruh James: call me y/n-chan again and I Will Put ur Dick-Chan in a Freezer-sama and then Cut-san it off

[10:39] jk the slump god: i dont think ur using the honorifics correctly tbh..

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“I don’t see how this is a good idea,” you state with a dramatic pout while looking out of the window. Your expression is solemn. 

Taehyung kind of can’t believe that you’re throwing a tantrum just because you had to sit next to him in the three-row SUV, but on the other hand, he’s kind of into it. You’re more appalled by the fact that he’s not as disgusting up close as you’d imagined him to be. Well granted, you’re being immature, but it’s your shtick so they take it with a grain of salt.

“Why’s that?” Jungkook asks obtusely. He ruined your life the moment he started calling you [Y/n]-chan and he has that bad case of crazy eyes he gets sometimes when you look at his reflection in the mirror going on right now. You’d be more understanding of his condition, hadn’t your trip started barely five minutes ago. 

“What do you mean why is that? We’re all unstable backstabbing lunatics, do you think we can survive together for six whole days?! Stranded or even in a hotel? And then the ride back to Springfield?”

“Hotel? You’re funny. It’s always been my dream to sleep in a motel,” Jin pipes up. 

“Seriously? No limo, now this.”

“Hotel, motel, holiday inn,” Hoseok starts singing. Perhaps if it was queen Britney, it would’ve curbed your temper but fate doesn’t seem to be that kind. 

“Hotel, motel, holiday inn! Hotel, motel, holiday inn! Hotel, motel, holiday inn!” 

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“So we’re not going to visit the Grand Canyon?” 

“It’s in Nevada,” Jimin explains. “We don’t have any business there except for going to the wedding. I’d be more down to do it if I wasn’t afraid that one of us, meaning [Y/n], would push one of the others, meaning you, in the gutter.” 

“Just a little visit?” Taehyung is talented at only hearing what he wants to hear. However, that doesn’t make the conversation any more productive.

“Well not to be the acrophobic buzzkill, but why are you so adamant about visiting the Grand Canyon?” This is the first time you’ve directly addressed Taehyung since the beginning of these mind-numbing two hours. Jin, hands still on the wheel, dares to take a peek at Jungkook and smile an asshole-type smile before almost accidentally crashing into a pole. 

“Watch the road!” Hoseok cries out. Everyone else either refuses to acknowledge what just occurred or decides to spare themselves from doing so.

“Jin says that he always wanted to sleep in a motel. I have another dream.” 

“To visit the Grand Canyon?”

“Not exactly. I want to take a shit in there and see if I can hear it splatter. Think that’s possible?”

“Maybe if you angle your butthole the right way—” Jimin’s explanation is cut short.

“Oh my god, you are disgusting. Shut up. I don’t want to hear it.”  

“What did I tell you about El Chapo, [N/n]?” 

“What about El Chapo?”

“Holy shit, I think I’m confusing conversations,” Jungkook admits. Jin offers no more than an eye-roll.

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Tulsa is a dump, really. Unfortunate that you had to make a stop here but also you’re satisfied because your right asscheek feels numb right now. Might have to take Kelly for a walk, though.  

Taehyung stumbles out of the vehicle after you and all six of you seize each other fleetingly before making your way towards the gas station, a tense sort of silence following. You’re first to speak up. “Y’know, I’ve been listening to your voices for so long now that I don’t wanna look at your faces.” 

“This tbh,” Hoseok agrees with your most profound sentiments as per the usual. He’s quick to match your pace, trailing after you like a lost puppy, successfully getting Taehyung out of his way. He puts his arm around your shoulders casually and you give him that sardonic smile that’s only really reserved for him.

“Don’t say tee-bee-aytch out loud. I get humiliation by proxy.” 

Jungkook makes an exaggerated gagging sound before nudging Taehyung subtly enough that Jin is the only one who sees the interaction. Though the eldest had agreed with his deranged idea, there’s one thing that Kook knows that Jin hasn’t come to find out. 

Taehyung has an ongoing problem or maybe he’s a masochist. He’s always been one to internally get attached to these girls who’d never give him the time of day, who can’t stand him at all. The tragedy-comedy that is his best friend’s love life started on a rainy day in second grade when a girl by the name of Seulbi punched him in the face and he was hooked on her for three years after. 

After the infamous Seulbi, came Yeonji from the cheerleading club who blew off his invite to his first-ever party when they were fifteen. She’d called him a loser to his face and he was smitten with her for a while, too. 

And then, you appeared in his life seemingly out of nowhere. Hoseok’s catty best friend with a tongue sharper than her stilettos and lipstick that goes perfectly with her skin tone. 

Of course, he was aware of your existence prior to that accident he calls his first conversation with you—be it from the exciting yet flat-out brain dead antics Hoseok would describe you’d gotten caught up in at the time or from the sound of your heels sinking into the floor promptly before you entered math class.  You were always late but claimed that the teacher should be grateful because you cut in line to arrive at school earlier. You always had one of those shitty overrated pumpkin spice lattes in your manicured hands. 

Simply put, Taehyung likes you. Though after your disastrous first meeting during which, blunt-natured and seemingly lacking a sense of self-preservation, he called you a stuck up moron and you threatened to make an attempt at his life. With your bullheaded nature, things never did solve themselves after that one instance.

It’s not something that he’s expressed outwardly, but Jungkook knows him better than he knows the back of his hand. Unfortunately, he knows you too, even if not as well and he knows how you can’t get a boyfriend because you either scare them away or you find out they’re only after a quick fuck and some money. 

Regardless, Jungkook writes off his inner ramblings as irrelevant before turning to Jin in what could be described as a conspirative manner. While clumsily handing the cashier gas money, he whispers something in the other man’s ear and Jin’s eyes literally twinkle like he’s in a low-budget porno. 

He nods, furiously so, and the cashier simply stares at them like they’re two idiots that somehow merged into one. It’s not a pretty sight. 

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“What? We’re sleeping out here?” Your whining is to be expected by now. Had any of your friends written an actual, physical, list of all the things you’ve complained about so far, it’d probably fill a notebook. Thankfully enough, said list remained as a mental compilation of your not-so-epic moments. “What about the motel?” 

“Oh, so now you want a motel?” Jin quips back with a smirk. “They always come ‘round.” 

Despite his boasting and apparent eagerness to go to a motel, that doesn’t change the fact that you all find yourselves in a campsite. You’re not an outdoor person save for going to parties or on a shopping spree with Hoseok. And well, your surroundings are a bit too green right now.

Taehyung is the next person to speak up, with a tense posture and his arms crossed over his chest, almost defiantly so. “Honestly, if you don’t want to be here, I don’t understand why you keep coming to these things.”

“Well, I don’t understand why I had to invite your dumb ass here either. I guess the inner machinations of my mind are an enigma.” 

“Yeah, I thought Namjoon or Yoongi would be more fitting for your taste of guest,” he says, outright taunting you now, as if to remind you of your failed love rendezvous with your now close friends. 

“Well yeah, but they both denied, so I had to invite you.” 

“Ah,” he gives a slight sigh and you dismiss the sadness you register in his voice as something deserved for annoying you, “that does make more sense. Lucky me, I guess.”

“Awkies,” Jungkook announces as if it’s something that needs to be announced. Hoseok simply shrugs, and though you’re definitely not looking forward to sleeping out in the woods, he seems excited to try something new. 

There’s something hilarious about seeing a bunch of upper-class kids trying to set up tents and start a fire. You’ve converted to the cavemen with Hoseok, seemingly unaware that engaging in a one-sided debate with a bundle of sticks won’t make them randomly engulf in flames while Hoseok is trying out a trick he saw in the movies.

Honestly, it’s enough of a miracle that you actually went out in the woods and helped without tripping your silly ass and getting lost among the catacombs. Granted, Hoseok would’ve been compassionate enough to look for you had you gotten lost, but you probably wouldn’t get over the trauma of being covered in mud. 

Taehyung notices you both struggling. Part of him wants to make amends with you and a bigger part of him wants to leave Jimin to scramble on his own. Not that he’s sadistic or anything, he just likes seeing others suffer sometimes for entertainment purposes. 

Anyways. 

He approaches casually, like the kind of casual where you can tell that the person has an ulterior motive that they don’t want to reveal. Hoseok appears happy to see him, like he’s a savior on a white horse, while you don’t acknowledge him that much except for a sharp question regarding what he wants. 

He greets the older boy with one of these grins you won’t admit you enjoy looking at before roaming through the pockets of his jacket. Now that you’ve noticed him wearing one, you come to the sudden realization that it is getting quite breezy. 

Taehyung has the habit of scrunching his nose when he’s looking for something and then unconsciously smile broadly after succeeding in finding it. You don’t like that you’re aware of that and you especially don’t like that you can pinpoint the repetitive action.

It appears that Taehyung was looking for a lighter, of all things. 

“I thought you quit smoking?” You simply give him an incredulous look. 

He doesn’t grace you with an answer. Though he doesn’t reek of the putrid smell, you’re still hoping that the answer to that question is yes. Instead of soothing your curiosity, however, he uses the lighter to ignite a spark in the firewood and you guess that it’ll have to do.

“Well, that was quite pathetic,” you comment unhelpfully. 

“Better than Hobi’s attempts and uh, whatever the fuck you were doing.” 

Hoseok is enthusiastic to announce that the bonfire’s ready. You watch the clumsily prepped three tents in disinterest, not bothering to defend your attempt at enchantment to him. “Hoseokie, you’re gonna share a tent with me right?” 

“Hoseokie,” Jin repeats, but in good fun, “I thought you were gonna crash with me tonight?”

You roll your eyes before redirecting your gaze towards Jimin and Jungkook. By the guilty smile Jungkook gives you, you can tell he doesn’t plan on letting Jimin out of his clown clutches. You narrow your expression and jut your lip out disapprovingly. 

“Well, Mr. Handsome,” Jin interrupts whatever you have to say with a thank you, “since you and Kook have been jointed by the assholes since we got here, I don’t see what the problem is.” 

“I think you’re just saying that because you don’t wanna sleep with Tae,” Hoseok comments obliviously. 

“What he said. Also, these crackwhores are planning something, and I’m going to find out what.”

“Well, you’re in tough luck because Hoseok promised,” Jin argues, emphasizing the word promise. He has a shit-eating grin on his face and he’s not even denying your accusation. 

Taehyung coughs once. The second time is overkill and sounds even faker than the first one. “Sorry, but if [Y/n] isn’t comfortable sharing the tent with me, it doesn’t really matter what Hoseok promised.” 

You gape at him. This is probably the first intelligent thing that you’ve heard come out of his mouth. You almost reconsider your treatment of him after that, but then you remember that a guy being half-decent isn’t something you’re supposed to celebrate. You suppose that even he looks like a saint compared to some of your exes.

Everyone notices the conflict on your face but doesn’t say anything about it. Jin admits that Taehyung’s right with a wail yet the tension doesn’t dissolve, somehow. You excuse yourself by declaring that you’re going to get the blankets out of the SUV. 

“Damn, that bad huh?” Jungkook laughs. It’s the hyena laugh that kind of doesn’t suit his face but also the one he does when he’s having fun for no good reason. 

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“I heard in the girls’ bathroom once that this girl went on a diet where she only eats bananas for three months. Like, five a day,” you explain while you munch on your banana in front of the bonfire. Needless to say, you’ve come out to be severely underprepared in terms of food on your first day. 

“That sounds like a strategy to make yourself unhinged,” Hoseok retorts. He believes your story but he’s skeptical about that banana business. “I’d never do that.” 

“Me neither. Diets are stupid, anyway, can’t a bitch eat?” 

Jungkook reaches over and high-fives you, looking at you like you’ve just invented air or some shit. “Amen to that sister.” 

“By the way, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Jimin is the one to speak up this time. 

“I have quite the plan for you, alright,” Jin laughs. His next statement, however, is the embodiment of his immature nature. “But that banana talk had me all distracted.”

Everyone collectively groans. You’re not really sure if what he said would classify as a dad joke at this point; you’re now entering single-and-desperate-dad joke territory. Can’t say that you’d enjoy it coming from someone else, but Jin is Jin.

“Anyways,” he dismisses his previous remark with an easy-going smile and a wave of his hand in thin air, “we’re going to a breakfast place first thing in the morning. By foot.” 

His grin is mischievous. You think this is the worst idea he’s had yet and no one else present seems attracted by the prospect of it either, so you vocally oppose him with a raised brow. “Don’t you realize how likely it is we’ll get lost?” 

“Yeah, I also don’t wanna walk too much.” Hoseok’s always one to back you up.

“Technology doesn’t lie, [Y/n].”

“If technology doesn’t lie how come I had a D on my maths test in junior year when I used Photomath?” 

Hoseok agrees, remembering the incident. That day was truly one of sorrow. 

“Technology only lies if you’re gullible enough,” Jin now changes the narrative. 

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You sneak out of your and Hoseok’s tent with a brief explanation thrown over your shoulder. Something about getting your make-up wipes from the trunk. Hoseok mutters inspiring words of advice—be careful, it’s dark and who knows what animal puke is on the ground—and you stumble your way to the SUV. 

Shoving the keys in the hole proves to be a difficult task, however. You aimlessly jut it in, hoping to hit the correct place by some sort of miracle. This is the moment that you realize that your eyes aren’t so good at adapting to the darkness. 

“Hey, what’re you doing?”

You jump up out of pure reflex. Startled, you whip around with a bemused look on your face. You’re gonna get wrinkles, damn it. 

“Woah, girl jumps in heels,” Taehyung comments dryly. 

“Don’t sneak up on me, you idiot cokehead,” you retort. You’re not sure why you said that. He’s not a cokehead. 

“No, but seriously, what’re you doing?” 

“I’m trying to look for my make-up wipes.” 

Taehyung takes the keys from you. Without half as much fumbling as you’d done previously, he opens the trunk and you proceed with looking through your purse, only to come to the conclusion that you’ve forgotten your make-up lines somewhere. There’s now a new resolve, clear as day in your twisted mind—you have to find the supermarket you passed by on your way here and buy new ones.

“Did you find them?”

“No.” You scoff. An angry thaw and the trunk is now closed. “I’m going to buy some.” 

“Woah, calm down tiger. Can’t you just sleep with it?” 

“No! Do you know how bad that is for your skin?” 

“Well, we could find a river and you could wipe your face with the dirty water.” 

You give him a blank stare, barely suppressing a small giggle. “Do you understand how ridiculous you’re being?” 

“I’m being ridiculous?”

Silence.

“...You’re not planning to go off in the woods during the dawn of asscrack, right?” 

“The what? Yeah.”

Taehyung looks towards your tent only to see that the light is completely shut down. Hoseok must be asleep already. “I’ll go with you.” 

You roll your eyes. “Do whatever you want.” 

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“So, why do you hate your cousin so much?” Taehyung asks abruptly from behind you. 

Most of your walk has been a silent one, so far, except for an occasional grumble from you and an absentminded one-liner from him. There’s also the sound of sticks crumbling under your high-heels that’s slightly irritating. 

“Because she’s unfunny,” you reply seriously.

“You have issues.” This is probably the least significant reason someone has ever hated somebody else for, in the entire history of hatred. Strangely enough, however, Taehyung can’t help finding it endearing how outlandish you can be.

“I’m sorry, I must have Alzheimer’s because I don’t remember asking,” you snap with a roll of your eyes. 

“You know, I have a dog,” he begins dramatically. “And sometimes he shits on the carpet and one time he puked on me, but I still love him very much. He’s gang, you feel?” 

“I don’t see how that helps with my family situation.”

“I never said it’s supposed to help, I just wanted to talk about myself.” He snickers. You’re getting the most violent of urges. 

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Leering over the thin metal fence that looms over an otherwise mundane hill gives you an idea. Down the admittedly high hill, the supermarket is obnoxiously lit up. However, the hideous sight doesn’t deter you—this is what your nirvana looks like in the given moment.

With one bold move, you lift your leg up the fence and Taehyung considers you, your motives and perhaps even your life until now. “What are you doing?” 

“It’ll be faster if I go down the hill.” 

“You’re gonna break your ankles in these shoes,” he rebuts, his voice a tilted monotone. “Also, I can see your underwear like this.” 

“Perveeeeert.” This is your final taunt before you do make it over the short fence and onto the other side. Examining the hill from up close—but not before you roll your miniskirt down—you come to two conclusions. The first one is that it’s quite steep and the second one comes when you’re one step down, that maybe, just maybe, you’re a bit deranged.

With your back turned to him, you don’t get to see Taehyung experiencing the five stages of grief. There’s obvious conflict on his face and to be precise, his current dilemma is between worry for you and a lack of power to stop you. Perhaps had you turned around, you’d find the sight entertaining.

His movements are leisurely once he does get in motion. Taehyung’s plan is to simply help you up now that he noticed that you’re hesitating to go further than you’ve already gone. 

His voice cutting through the night’s silence startles you. “Hey, you really shouldn’t do this.” 

You stumble. 

As tragic as that is, there’s something else to placate you; you’ve never seen Taehyung move so fast. Not even during the blip test in high school. The rest of his actions are less endearing—he throws you over his shoulder carelessly, stumbles onto the sidewalk and drops you like it’s hot. And then your legs are a bit wobbly, but you pretend they aren’t. 

The unnerving silence remains all the way to the supermarket, then back to the campsite and even when Taehyung’s awkwardly using his phone as a flashlight in your face while you remove your make-up. There’s nothing to say, except maybe if he were to ask you a question that’s not to your liking.

(He’s not that bad.)

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Jin is in a hurry, but you’re not sure what for. It’s been practically less than a day since you started this road trip, but it feels longer. You’re conflicted about how to feel regarding that, but even so, Jimin and Hoseok’s enthusiasm is hard to ignore. 

The feline smile on your face drops the moment Jungkook basically drags you out of your tent, bare-faced and severely underdressed. Well, to be honest, you blend in with them just fine, but in your head, you’re severely underdressed. Something more boujee is usually your style, but you realize your predicament won’t magically change the longer you’re walking in what feels like the middle of nowhere. 

Tusla is gross, yes, but maybe Oklahoma is just gross in general. 

When you’re unhappy, you don’t get shy about it—honesty is the best policy, after all. So you’re going on one of those annoying tangents you like to go on like it’s second nature to you. Maybe it is. 

Taehyung drones out whatever it is you’re saying the moment you start talking about a pimple in your nostril that has hair growing out of it. He’s not particularly grossed out by this revelation, rather, he doesn’t like listening to you go on and on about everything you don’t like about yourself. 

“And I couldn’t put on that necklace you got me for my birthday,” you complain before linking your arms with Hoseok’s and feigning a sniff.

“That is pretty horrible,” he hums in agreement. “I think I have a rash on my thigh.” 

“See, if Jungkook wasn’t being horrible I could probably get some kinda product to smear on it.”

Taehyung feigns a loud yawn. Tagging along with you and Hoseok isn’t as tiring as he’d like to make it out to be. 

“What’re you yawning so blatantly for? I hate being interrupted.” You roll your eyes cockily. 

“Sorry, I almost fell asleep during this uninteresting speech of yours.”

You fume again and Hoseok reassures you with something along the lines of don’t worry, [Y/n], it’s very interesting. Then, silence follows. It always seems to end up like this between the two of you. 

“Well, if it helps,” Taehyung starts, tone breezy, “you’re still beautiful.” 

You feel your face heat up. Sure, boys have given you plenty of compliments before—you’re no stranger to it—hot, sexy and maybe pretty on a good day. But beautiful? Especially without any make-up on? This is definitely something new. 

Hoseok smiles. “Yeah, he’s right.” 

You don’t want to admit just how flattered you really are. “Of course I am.”

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You take the first thing you find to your liking once you reach the breakfast place. Actually, it’s more brunch than it is breakfast, but all that walking is making you starve so you don’t feel particularly inclined to be hung up on semantics. 

“It’s on me.” Jungkook sweeps in smoothly, giving you a flashy smile. 

“Fuck off. I’m still mad at you.”

“You might be, but not for long,” he argues with an obnoxious grin on his face. “They call it… The Kook Effect.” 

You shake your head. “I’m pretty sure you just made that up.”

“Yeah? Remember when you won a bet against Jimin and he had to call you Supreme Majesty in freshman year? And then you pretended that he did it out of his own volition.” 

“Oh, I’m not taking this from you and your dead trim.”

“My trim is fine, thanks.”

“Dead trim!” you repeat, almost frantic. You’re so caught up with Jungkook’s dead trim that you don’t notice that Taehyung is giving you a cheesy smile as he buys you your food. He looks like the greasiest gentleman alive when he hands it to you. 

“And what’s that about?”

“In junior year, at summer camp, they took away our phones because someone recorded the instructor jerking off. And then like, blackmailed him.” 

You quirk an eyebrow up at this, unsure what he’s hinting at. “Right.”

“Right. And then they took all of our phones for a month and you started crying about how your life is a living nightmare.” 

“Right…” you trail off, suddenly embarrassed as if that hadn’t happened a whole two years ago. But like, it totally was a big deal! “The no phone rule was the worst. Even worse than the public bathroom rule.”

“I did it. I’m making it up to you,” he explains. 

You feel your mouth twitch into a small smile, one that he hasn’t quite seen on you before. “I forgive you this once, then.” 

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“We’re going to a hotel after sightseeing,” Jin explains. It’s like he’s got everything figured out all by himself and perhaps with the help of Jungkook’s annoying personality. “I arranged the rooms and everything while you were eating.” 

“Quite epic,” Jimin comments absentmindedly. “Wait, rooms? Like, you mean who’s rooming with who?” 

“Yeah, I finished the registration.” He stares directly at you and then Taehyung. “You could switch if you wanted to, it doesn’t really matter.”

You give him a light glare, already having a brief idea of what he’s done, but don’t comment any further. With a sense of deja vu, you speak up again. “What about the motel?” 

“I wasn’t sure if we’re going to be passing by one today, so I thought hey! Better safe than sorry.” 

Everyone nods in half-agreement until Jin speaks up again. “Plus, you guys reek. You should shower. Couldn’t be me.”

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Predictably, Jin did set you and Taehyung up. You can’t tell what kind of game he and Jungkook are playing, however, the poor boy isn’t half as insufferable in your eyes ever since this road trip began, so maybe you should thank them. Still, you don’t trust them—their minds are as twisted as yours.

As the two of you are dragging your luggage towards your shared room, Taehyung reminds you that you’re free to tell him if you don’t want to sleep with him. “I could go to Jungkook’s room or something.”

You find the idea of being alone more unfavorable than you thought you would. Perhaps your high-school, drastically more histrionic, self would’ve found anything more pleasant than sharing a room with Taehyung. You’re a (slightly) changed person now, though. Or at least you’d like to believe you are.

“Let’s put it like this. I hate a lot of things.”

“You don’t need to tell me that, I already know,” he interrupts with a crude giggle. 

“But you’re not one of them,” you admit. 

There’s also the fact that the two of you are blatantly ignoring that you could switch with Jin and sleep with Hoseok instead.

No more words are spoken between the two of you that day. New Mexico isn’t half as bad as Oklahoma was. 

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You wake up before Taehyung does, punctually so. Rolling out of bed, you partly don’t care whether you wake him but at the same time, you try to avoid making too much noise before slipping into the bathroom. Though you’re definitely one to value your beauty sleep, yesterday’s incident left you paranoid over whether Jungkook or Jin would catch you unprepared. 

You go through your routine calmly and by the time Taehyung goes in the bathroom to take a piss, you’re ready to start doing your make-up. You stare at the foundation in your hand but before you can apply it, you hesitate. 

Do I need make-up to be desirable?

Of course, you’re aware that not all women who use make-up are insecure, or that it’s always necessarily toxic for your self-esteem. And you thought that was the case with you as well, but your doubts suggest otherwise. Swiftly, you put all of your stuff away, stick with your trusty lipstick and nothing else. 

“Morning,” he says, groggy still. 

“Morning.��� You look over to him from the corner of your eye and he looks kind of dazed. “Jin says we’re staying here until tomorrow morning.” 

“Cool. Hotel’s nice. The scenery too.” 

“I guess.” 

There’s something cripplingly awkward when the two of you aren’t hurling insults at each other, you realize. 

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You’re off somewhere with Hoseok and Jin when Taehyung is hanging out with Jimin and Jungkook. Turns out their room has a nice balcony, and with the others out of the picture, there’s some kind of buzzed chatter about incoherent topics swirling around. 

Jungkook suddenly decides that it’s a good idea to start talking about his sexcapades. Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe his mind’s slipping. Jimin kind of wants to admit how much he doesn’t care what his friend does outside of watching anime and playing video games, but there’s also a part of him that’s morbidly intrigued by Jungkook’s words. Like a dark spell or something. 

“I wanted to hit it off with [Y/n] in high school,” he admits bluntly.

The other two stare at him.

“Oh really? What made you change your mind?” Jimin asks, now more awake than ever. 

“Dunno. Like, she’s more like, the bitchy rival in rom-coms, not the protagonist. I liked her, but I didn’t think I could handle her,” he admits.

“Once we were clubbing and this guy was messing with me and I complained to her about it,” Jimin begins, leaning into his chair with a fond smile on his face, “and she was all like, I’ll show him. And I was like, what? And she was like, I’ll show him who he’s dealing with. And then I was like, okay, maybe don’t show him that much.” 

The three of them chuckle. Taehyung talks for the first time in a while. “Nah, I agree.”

“You dig it though, right?” 

Jimin gives him a knowing look right after Jungkook shoots his question with a drunken smile. He guesses that since Hoseok isn’t here, he can finally admit it. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. But I can’t get things right with her.” 

“What do you mean?”

“It’s like, we’re either fighting or it’s really awkward.” 

“You’re on your own.” Jimin dismisses him with a wave of his hand. “I don’t think she hates you that much. It’s always Taehyung this, Taehyung that.” 

“True,” Jungkook agrees. “Like yes, maybe she’s complaining about you half the time and I know she loves gossiping but I’ve never heard her talk about someone else that much. Except maybe Yoongi. What I’m sayin’ is, you should give it a shot.”

“Why do you guys even fight so much?” Jimin laughs. “Whenever it happens, I like, forget what even happened to lead up to that.” 

“Well, you know me. I’m always too honest for my own good and when I hit her with some snark she starts getting all defensive. I just...” He sounds defeated by the time he’s finished with his explanation. Taehyung’s shoulders visibly slump and his frame slides down the uncomfortable chair. “I just want to get along with her.” 

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The fourth day is the first time you actually aren’t sure where you are. Save for supposedly being close to Nevada by now, you tuned out the rest of Jin’s explanation despite your previous attempts at keeping up with your location. 

Regardless, what’s important is living in the present. And the present for you right now is walking down a nameless street, in a mess of other tourists, with your pants uncomfortably sticking to your ass with sweat. In short, you feel gross. 

Taehyung doesn’t seem to be having the same problem, while you can’t even fake being unfazed. You envy him just the tiniest bit. 

A trashy souvenir shop seems to catch Taehyung’s attention. In the scorching heat and sand-yellow scenery of this town, however, even that seems more appealing. So when he urges you to go with him, you find yourself reluctantly agreeing. 

When you step in, the air conditioning of the otherwise homey shop welcomes you like taking a breather during an overcrowded party. You let an unconscious smile take over your face when you greet the cashier. She’s cute and her adorableness factor only spikes up when she practically beams at the sight of customers. 

“Hi! Please, feel free to look around.” 

“We will,” Taehyung answers offhandedly. Her gaze lingers on him. 

Most of the things don’t interest you. Actually, they’re hideous if you had to be completely honest. He doesn’t seem that enamored by them either, but you can tell he finds more redeeming qualities about them than you do. 

Your eyes almost bulge out of your face when you see the most live-laugh-love-esque decoration to exist. Like something your mom would laugh-react to on Facebook. 

The offender is no more than three inches tall and wide, a ceramic plate with a cartoony burger portrayed on it. It’s holding a flag that says two simple words: “Nice Buns!” 

You can’t tell if it’s the radioactivity of Jungkook’s cooking from earlier or if this thing is what’s making you nauseous. However, food-poisoning or not, you’re quite disgusted by what you’ve just seen. “Oh my god, the caucasity.” 

“Aw, you don’t like it?” Taehyung says with a mocking pout. “I think it’s cute.” 

“What’s wrong with you? It’s corny.”

“No, it isn’t. It might’ve been if it was a corn-dog, though.” 

You heaved an over-dramatic sigh. “You’re saying words that have no positive impact on my life.”

“I think I’ll buy it,” he declares, before checking the price and realizing he hasn’t brought enough money with himself. 

You shake your head. “I’m not gonna be an accomplice to… that.” 

“Well, of course not. This is your Valentine’s present.”

“Go to hell. As if I’d be your Valentine in the first place,” you reply sardonically before pushing him out of the way.  

Taehyung realizes something at that moment. Even outside your evident disinterest in him and his affairs, the two of you are completely incompatible. You, too quick to judge and be offended and him, too quickly to say the first thing on his mind, obviously don’t mesh smoothly. 

Neither of the boyfriends you’ve had that he’s spoken to is anything like him, either. If Namjoon and Yoongi have one thing in common, it’s that they’re both calm, collected and have a good head screwed securely on top of their shoulders. He’s not like that.

Even so, that revelation only makes the concept of being with you more alluring. 

Kim Taehyung is an idiot. But more importantly, with one glance towards the admittedly good-looking cashier making googly eyes at him, Kim Taehyung makes a decision.

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While you’re taking a shit in a nearby cafeteria, you receive a text from Taehyung. This is shocking by itself since despite the two of you having each others’ numbers, you never really text. 

[15:30] pain in the neck: im going on a date w/ the cashier

[15:30] pain in the neck: feel free to leave

[15:45] Princess Complex: i’m just gonna hang with jungkook thank god

Why is your stomach sinking?

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Once you meet up with Jungkook, you explain the situation briefly. He quickly looks you over, confusion evident on his face. “What? On a date?”

“Yeah, he just kinda left me in the toilet,” you confirm with a shrug. “Anyways, where do you wanna go?” 

It’s not like Jungkook is an oblivious idiot with the emotional capacity of your aunt’s mutated sixth toe, even if he may appear to be. But you never thought he’d call you out the moment your overly confident facade starts slipping. His gaze softens. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?” 

He isn’t examining you when he asks. No, he appears to be looking off, somewhere behind you. However, you remain ignorant to that fact. 

“Yes! Why would I care? I’d rather drink toilet water for ten years straight than spend any more time with that moron,” you snap, too worked up for someone who supposedly doesn’t care. 

“Is that how you really feel about Taehyung?”

“Yes! Yes, oh my god, let it go.”

Jungkook makes one more helpless expression, shrugs lightly, and you fail to realize that neither of those gestures is directed at you. “Let’s go to the arcade.”

“I’m not really into video games,” you lie as you run your hand through your hair, “but fine.”

“Hell yeah.”

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When Taehyung goes back to your room in the trashy motel, notably late during the night for a mere first date, the atmosphere is tense. There’s a crease in your brows when you unlock the door and obvious bite marks over your bare lips. He stumbles ahead to enter, but you continue blocking his path with your arms frigidly crossed over your chest.

“You’re late.” 

“And what’s it to you?” He’s never spoken to you so harshly. There are moments where his words bite, but never does he say them with an expression and tone that are so frosty.

“Nothing in particular.” You move out of his way, finally, and he enters. You briefly wonder if he’s had alcohol before you start talking again. “I’ve been stuck in this room for like, an hour because the keys are in me. Waiting for you...”

“Poor you.”

“Excuse me?”

“I heard what you said about me to Jungkook. You know, I’m starting to understand why you scared away all your exes.”

Warth washes over you in waves for a millisecond before it disperses into nothingness, a cold numbness that makes your back shiver. Your gaze on him is empty yet livid at the same time and he cowers under it. You’re not sure if the guilt on his face is a flicker of your imagination or if it’s genuine, but you hope it’s the latter. 

It’s never his words that are a big deal to you. It’s the way he speaks every syllable, so earnestly with truth laced in every letter, that makes you go off the hook. Because deep down, you’re aware that he doesn’t mean to be malicious or to offend, it’s merely him telling his truth.

You grab a few things impulsively with a mundane declaration, before storming off god knows where. “I’m not sleeping here tonight.”

When the door clicks behind your frame, Taehyung backs down and sprawls out across the bed. Truthfully, he regretted his words before he even opened his mouth. But he was so angry, be it with you or with himself.

It just seemed so unfair that you could blow him away time after time and yet, on his date the only thing on his mind was you. The mediocre make-out session and him awkwardly leaving out of nowhere didn’t help, either. And then you had to be so perfect, waiting for him instead of locking his ass out like he thought you would.

It isn’t the girl’s fault she’s raised to be as sweet as sugar while you’re more like citrus. He’s always had a knack for lemons, anyway.

The fact that you spent the rest of the day with Jungkook only aggravates him further, the younger’s words repeating in his head. I tried to hit it off with [Y/n] in high school, or whatever it was that he said exactly. All of this is his own fault, anyway—if he hadn’t been so temperamental, you would’ve stayed with him for the rest of the day.

Taehyung stares at the cheap lights hanging on the ceiling until his eyes hurt that night.

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Half-way through your trek to Hoseok’s room, you crumble. A sob escapes your throat and then another one. After these two instances, your tears don’t cease. 

At first, Jimin is excited to see you at their door but his smile slips the moment he realizes what a bad state you’re in. You’re practically making whale noises while desperately searching for Hoseok. 

“I’ll give you two a moment.” He gives you one final look-over and leaves with a not-so-threatening threat. “Or maybe thirty. You better be smiling and singing Toxic by the time I’m back, [Y/n].”

Hoseok rushes to hug you. “God, girl, what’s wrong?”

“I like Taehyung.” 

“Is that it? You’re a strong girl, y’know, I never pictured you crying over some pretty boy.” 

“No. I’m crying because I’ve liked him all this fucking time and I tried to run away from him because I’m scared. And he said the most horrible thing to me,” you explain as you bury yourself deeper into his embrace. “That’s why I’m crying.”

“I hope he isn’t allergic to hands, because he’s about to catch them. Actually, I hope he is allergic.” Hoseok isn’t one to ask about details. He lets you get it out of your system, makes a few promises (most often of violence) and then allows you to elaborate if you wish to do so.

You laugh, but it turns into choking considering how much snot you have running down your face by now. “He said that he understands why my exes run away from me. I mean, I— I said something rude about him first, but Jungkook was backing me into a corner and I didn’t know he would even find out about it, I just—”

“Forget about him, forget about Jungkook, everyone. Tonight is for Britney,” Hoseok commands more than he asks you.

You smile sadly at him before uselessly wiping your tears away and giggling like you’re on the brink of losing your mind. Perhaps you are.

“My 45-carat booger. Hey, let’s make Jimin do the chicken dance,” Hoseok starts off like he’s coddling you in his strange way of doing so, but then quickly turns diabolical. He throws some tissues at you and you accept them. If there’s one thing you’re truly grateful for, it’d be your best friend.

You nod, suddenly more excited than you should be. Hoseok’s right—you don’t need some pretty boy when queen Britney is watching over you.

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The next day, you’re wearing a full-face of make-up, and Taehyung notices it. Hoseok’s driving and you’re in the passenger seat, talking about some nonsense as usually do. The atmosphere is light, with Jimin and Jungkook occasionally joining in your conversation and Jin sleeping with his forehead pressed against the window.

Truth to be told, Taehyung feels like a zombie right now. Pretending that your scuffle with him meant nothing to you only convinces him further how little you care about anything that has to do with him.

“I think we’ll be in Las Vegas soon,” Hoseok announces cheerily.

On one hand, you’re happy to finally be seeing the end of this road trip. Though you’ve technically just been relaxing, you wanted to be done with your cousin’s dumb wedding and go back to spending an average amount of time with your friends. You want to forget how flippant things are between you and Taehyung, your quote-unquote friendship dictated by mood swings rather than actual feelings.

“Fuck yeah! I wanna get drunk in Vegas,” you say with a smirk. “It’s on my bucket list.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah.”

“You want to get drunk everywhere,” Jungkook corrects with a laugh. You can’t help agreeing with him. “And Jin will probably stay in the hotel and play Candy Crush or something.”

“Ew, ew, ew, a fucking millenial,” you exclaim in mock disgust.

“Jin can be a beast if he wants to. Remember when he twerked in front of the whole school on Taehyung’s birthday party?”

“Shit was wild, man.”

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No one except you, Hoseok and Taehyung himself is aware of what transpired yesterday. So Jungkook and Jin are still stubbornly placing the two of you together, yet you’re too powerless to fight it.

The hotel is a fancy one, courtesy of your annoying cousin. She’s been texting you and you sent a short message back to inform her you’ve arrived, but you haven't bothered to deal with her provocations any further. 

After dumping his luggage near his bed, Taehyung was straight out of the room and you started getting ready. And that was that. 

You feel more like yourself when you find the wine hidden in the fridge, a free present from the hotel. Or maybe your cousin’s way of making peace. Ha, as if that’d happen. 

When Taehyung comes back to get dressed, you’re already tipsy and acting like a fool.

“Drinking already?” There are many things that Taehyung wants to say to you. An apology he’s too sober to say and a confession you’re too drunk to hear, to begin with. 

“It’s pre-game,” you explain dizzily. “You know. I never told you why I hate my cousin so much. She used to bully me and she stole my first boyfriend from me. And we never got past it.”

With your trademark look, high-heels, acrylics, a fancy yet revealing dress along with whatever else you consider fashionable at the moment, Taehyung feels familiarity staring at your lopsided smirk. Though he’s gotten glimpses of other sides of you during these past few days, like how you like cuddling during the night, this is the epitome of who you are.

“Yeah,” he replies agreeably, though you’re not sure what for.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but Hoseok is waiting for me. So, this is bye-bye.” 

“See you there.”

“Probably not.” You snicker. Taehyung can tell that you’re still upset with him.

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You’re so wasted that the things happening around you aren’t really making sense anymore. While you and Hoseok were drinking together for a while, at one point Jungkook whisked him away, then there’s a blank in your memory and now you’re here. Alone. And you’ve lost count of how many drinks you’ve had. 

A man, that’s definitely a few years older than you, finally approaches you after observing you from afar. He says some sort of sleazy line—you’re not sure what it is, you’re not really listening—and offers you a drink. 

You consider him. He’s not your type at all and that pornstache isn’t helping his case but, when you look at Taehyung and see him talking and having fun while you’re being an alcoholic by your lonesome and moping about him, you quickly accept his offer. Pornstache or not. 

“Pick anything you’d like, kitten,” he purrs, in an attempt at being seductive. 

“Well first off I’m not a furry so don’t call me that,” you snap with a self-assured grin. And then you start listing off the most expensive drinks on the menu. 

This man is so enamored by you that he buys you all of them. You’re three steps closer to alcohol poisoning when you clumsily stumble onto the dance floor along with him, running your hand over his jaw in what you believe to be a sensual manner. He seems to dig it, but from an outsider’s perspective the two of you look like junkies trying to get off. 

Your experience in the club is romanticized. The dim lights are reminiscent to those few times you’ve gone to a rave and it reeks of alcohol, overpriced perfumes and sweat. You and your nameless pathetic fan mingle with the grinding crowd and begin imitating them. 

As the poet Lady Gaga once said, “redlight pornographic dance fight”. 

The act itself is indifferent to you. From across the room, Taehyung locks eyes with you and you’re not really sure why but you feel this sudden need to provoke him, even when you know he most likely wouldn’t care. You sloppily kiss your suitor’s cheek while looking at him intensely from across the room. A red trail from your wet lips makes its way down his face.

For the sake of pettiness, you might’ve gone further—I mean, you were already playing some weird game of tug-and-war but with clothes—but you don’t want to know the feeling of this guy’s lips against yours. He finds the mostly innocent action as an invitation, though, and abruptly halts your staring contest with Taehyung by forcing you into a greedy kiss.

Pushing him away, you give him a pointed stare and rejection is clear on his face. “Excuse me…” 

He’s a terrible kisser. 

Pushing through everyone that’s in your way, you make your escape through the first door you find. In your intoxicated parade, you fail to make sense of the words ‘CLOSED’ that are so blatantly taped over the entrance. So, you find yourself in front of a swimming pool. 

The cold breeze outside prickles at your skin unpleasantly, and a quick look around tells you that there’s no one around to put this in their cringe compilation. Apparently more disgusted than you’d initially thought, you puke your guts out in front of the pool. Now light-headed and somehow empty, you stare at your vomit and take a deep breath. 

“Hey, why’d you run away?” Your suitor from earlier appears to have followed you outside. You stare at your feet—doesn’t he understand that you wanted to get away from him?

“You’re a bad kisser,” you say bluntly after getting over your little trance. 

“Give me a chance to change your mind then,” he offers smugly, taking menacing steps towards you. You move away instinctively before you’re quickly backed into a wall, with his two hands trapping you in between. 

Your eyes widen with fear and you sink into yourself. If you had anything else to puke out, you’re sure you would’ve done so at this point. “I have sharp nails and I’m not afraid to use them.”

“Oh, she bites-”

The events that play out next happen so slowly, you’re not sure why you’re surprised. Taehyung appears, and you do see him in your peripheral vision, stares for a bit before knocking the guy out with a punch to his temple. He falls unconscious on the ground.

“Oh god, did I kill him?” he asks, a vacant look on his face. He imagined his first kill to be more thrilling, but on second thought, he’s not sure why he was thinking about that without being under the influence of substances in the first place. 

“I’d be happy if he’s dead, if that helps,” you comment dryly. 

“Do we dump the body in the pool or what?”

The two of you are drunk enough to consider it. Your mind is blank for a bit, before you finally speak up. “I’m trying to think of what I saw on How To Get Away With Murder, but it’s not coming to me. But like, on Blacklisted, there was this guy who like, made the corpses turn to gas or something!”

“You watch too much TV. Also, I’m pretty sure it’s called The Blacklist.”

“Whatever. Do you know how to do that?”

“No.”

“Hey, what’s going on here?” A new voice cuts in.

“You better come up with something convincing or we’ll have to kill him too,” you urge.

“Did you say something?”

“No.”

“Umm, awkward believe it yeah,” Taehyung begins, a strong start. “This guy slipped on her puke and hit his head. And he has a concussion now.”

“Man, that sucks,” the guy says. You’re relieved that he’s as trashed as he is, otherwise the situation would’ve went really badly, considering how Taehyung straight-up lied to his face. “I’ll go call someone over ‘ere.”

Once he’s out of sight, the two of you stare at each other and decide to flee the country. But then change the plan with the more economically-efficient idea to simply leave the club. 

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“Why were you with that guy anyway?” Taehyung asks. Frankly put, neither of you know where you’re going, but you’re boldly leading him through the artificially-lit streets of Las Vegas as if you’re born there. Where you end up is a concern your sober selves of tomorrow should worry about.

“I wanted to make you jealous,” you reply, bold, like everything you do when you’re drunk is. 

“...I don’t get it.”

“You pissed me off so much yesterday. And you made me jealous when you went out with that cashier. But also, you killed a guy for me, so I guess I’m not mad at you anymore.” 

“Well aren’t you high-maintenance,” he retorts sarcastically, gaining what feels like a confidence spurt because of your sudden confession. “You don’t have anything to be jealous of, anyway. The only thing I had on my mind during that stupid fucking date was you.”

You freeze up. You thought that your own attitude was what made any possibility of him returning your feelings seem laughable. Even if it’s drunk blabber, alcohol is an honesty elixir, at least in your case. “Kiss me?” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice, attacking your lips so eagerly you’d consider it funny if you were in a right state of mind. Still, your reciprocation is just as hungry, so maybe you don’t have any room to laugh. He is indulging you, after all.

The wipeout that happened at the club happens again and you’re left to wonder how things escalated. From teeth clashing against each other in pure excitement, you’re left hovering over Taehyung’s form and straddling him unsteadily.

He reaches under your already high dress and the glimpse of your panties seems to excite him. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this,” he admits breezily. 

You smile, a teasing one, adjusting yourself better. “You don’t need to be so dramatic about it, it’s just underwear.” 

“Dramatic is how many times I’ve jerked off after we went to the supermarket and you flashed me.”

“Ewwww, we shared a bed like three times, freak,” you scold and he pouts when you distance yourself from him. 

“I was just trying to be funny!”

“Not funny. Didn’t laugh. It’s better when you don’t talk,” you instruct before leaning down again to kiss him. At least he’s having fun with groping whatever he can get his hands on. 

“You’re so annoying it turns me on. Always whining, it drives me nuts how much I really like you.”

You snicker. “Well, I sure am feelin’ the love here.”

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When you wake up, you register three things. Four, actually. First—your left shoe is missing. Second— Taehyung is knocked out cold next to you. Third—you don’t know where you are, except for the fact that there’s a garbage bin next to you. Fourth—your head is throbbing with pain and you’re so sore you’re not sure if you can walk. Needless to say, you had the wild night in Vegas you wished for in your bucket list, and you only half-regret it.

You see your shoe discarded near you and nudge it with your toe for a bit before finally gathering enough power to sit up and put it on. Or so you think, because the moment you’re propped in a standing position, you vomit like you did yesterday. 

Speaking of yesterday, the only thing you remember is that you and Taehyung were convinced that he’s now a murderer on the run, confessing your feelings for each other in an anti-climactic manner and then having like seven rounds of public sex. 

With a recap of yesterday’s events, you digress and put your shoe on before reaching in your purse. Surprisingly, you haven’t been robbed. Fishing your phone out, you come to the conclusion that you’ve been knocked out cold for way too long. 

Hoseok has generously spammed you with seventy texts, but you don’t bother to read them, already assuming that the gist is something about where the fuck you and Taehyung are. Instead, you call him immediately. 

“Hi,” you greet casually.

“[Y/n]! Where the fuck are you and Tae? We were so worried. Jin almost declared you two missing. But on the positive side, Jungkook didn’t care because he got food poisoning yesterday at the club.”

“I don’t know where we are, but he’s with me.”

“What do you mean?!”

“I’ll send you my location. I don’t have money for Uber, love you, kisses and hickeys,” you say in one breathe before hanging up quickly and doing what you said you’d do. 

At first, you thought this road trip was an opportunity for you to grow and mature. However, after yesterday’s shenanigans, you’re almost convinced your sociopathic tendencies are now higher by 5%. 

You start shaking Taehyung until he wakes up and swats your arms away. Now upon closer inspection, while you’re aware that you look bad right now, he’s not looking too hot either. The lipstick marks you had left on his face make it look like you’ve either slobbered all over him or that he’s a vampire, you’re not sure. And you’ve bitten him so much somebody could think he got attacked by a racoon judging solely on those bruises.

You quickly explain the situation to him as you’re fixing up your bra and top. Considering the fact that you were bordering on nip-slip territory, that was your priority. Smoothing your dress is easy enough, but your pantyhose is mysteriously ripped in some incriminating places.

He reaches out, rips out the fake eyelash that was pathetically hanging off the corner of your eye and throws it away. You take care of the other one, wipe off your ruined make-up and then wipe off the lipstick on his face. 

Your head hurts so much that you don’t know what to say to break the silence. Though you also don’t doubt that he’s in the position, and so, for the first time it doesn’t feel awkward between the two of you. 

“Hey, [Y/n], are we like… dating now?”

“I think so? You can be my date to the wedding if you want.” 

A dopey smile takes over his face. You realize you’ve made someone this happy before with merely being yourself. It fills you with a kind of warmth you’ve never felt before.

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“Your cousin won’t stop calling you,” Taehyung emphasizes as you’re pointedly ignoring your ringtone while you get ready. Considering the atrocious state both of you came back in, the process taking longer than usual shouldn’t be a surprise. Especially since you had to take turns for the shower.

Also the part where the two of you got into a fight over who should go in first—your thesis being arguably stronger once you mentioned the mud ingrained in the left sole of your feet—only slowed you down further.

“I know right? Can’t this pregnant moron get a life.”

“No, I think she’s calling you because we’re late to the wedding,” he elaborates. “You should pick up.”

“But I hate her!”

“You can roast her at the wedding and I’ll hype you up if you do what I ask.”

“Oh my god, promise?” 

“Promise.”

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“Look who finally showed up,” your cousin greets you with a tight smile. You can only return the sentiment as Taehyung dumbly trails behind you. 

Well, as much as you don’t like your cousin, the wedding is certainly nice. With a light atmosphere and a fancy ceremony, he can’t pretend he hates it—that much is certain. Though he can also tell that it’s a lot of money wasted on food that doesn’t look appetizing in the slightest the more he examines the buffet.

“I see you’re not wearing the dress I shipped to you. Is it too tight, perhaps?” She’s smiling fakely and sweetly as she waits for your answer to her provocation. Of course it’s too tight; what else could it be when she picked it two sizes smaller than what you usually wear. And she did it on purpose too.

Despite the rather mundane conversation happening, the tension is thick.

“I’m going to be quick. You look like a greasy manatee.” You give her your own uptight smile before strutting away, cueing Taehyung to follow after you.

“Pregnancy-shameeeeed,” he yells out as he offers her finger guns and speed-walks in your direction. 

Once he’s caught up with you, he speaks up again. “I know you could’ve been more brutal than that.”

“Oh please, I’m sophisticated, I’d never engage in some barbaric behavior.”

You both burst out laughing at your blatant lie. 

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“Do you think they’re dating now?” Jin asks, looking at the two of you as you dance and joke around. Though he imagines that you could only be having a deranged conversation, one that isn’t as sweet and lovey-dovey as it might look from an outsider’s perspective, it’s still quite disgusting how smitten Taehyung looks with you. 

“I don’t care,” Jungkook answers. Him saying he doesn’t care is a metaphor for how much he doesn’t care about anything after his food poisoning.

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Oh definitely. I saw them making out near a garbage dumpster when we were driving back to the hotel.”

Seokjin chokes.

[sassaetcie]

The Molten Charcoal (Idia x Silver fic) : Chapter 2

Enjoy this second chapter :) Please reblog if you like, or comment, I love to see your comments,,, 

I... went outside my room. The corridors were pretty chilly... I guess I should really go outside, huh. What if I spread the curse here, though? If some ice were to be born here, to be blossoming peacefully, or furiously, no melting would even be bestowed upon them. Only my flames would remain. Only I will remain... somehow. The darkness were soothing, though. They don't burn, after all. I should ask someone to use dark magic to boost my computers, lol. Nevermind. I didn't meet anyone, of course. All of Ignihyde's students aren't giving a shit, anyway. If we were to come across each other, we would both stare at the void and walk as if no one was there. My legs hurt a bit, tho. Less than in PE and after PE and the day after but still... I walked for a few minutes at least. Maybe I was just hungry... I was so stressed I couldn't tell lmao. But the corridors were so quiet and chilly... I'm just annoyed our colors are black (tho it's not really a color) and blue... Can't blue just fucking disappear. Hmm... if blue were to "fucking disappear", Ortho would as well kflgldlnf,. I'm stupid. He even called me some... time ago, I think? I should check the hour from time to time... What if I miss some event???

My "date" with Silver is in 6 days, probably. Why would he call it a date if he doesn't know I'm in love, though... I guess Ortho really saw through me and wasn't joking with my Prince Ideal?! Is he going to shoot Truth Bullet in my face and make me the only victim of this love trial?! Six days, tho... I'll have to see Silver... I've already met him so it won't be as awkward as the first time but... Do I even have the right to love him, anyway? I probably have, but I can't fulfill my lovey dovey dream, LOL. Even if he were to love me... Even if he is a Prince... That's the way I should behave as the future Shroud Family Head. I should wed someone of my "rank". But if I do, how many responsibilities will be pushed upon our shoulders? I can not just marry him, that's right. But he is still a "prince". I won't ever wed a fucking prince. Wouldn't that mean fulfilling my kin's wish? I don't. fucking. want. to. I don't want to be a Shroud. I am just... Idia... I am just Idia... And if the prince's ideal was just something I started to wish after what happened back then? What if I don't really love Silver but just love his aura? That's it, right... Sorry, Ortho, I really can't be in love with Silver, huh. There's no way I truly love. That's just another delusion. I'm just a stupid kid. I'm just a stupid adult. Whatever. This delusion is sweet, huh? That will last some time. And it'll vanish. I can't love a prince since it would be a Shroud's fate. I want to love the Prince Charming since I want to be saved. Couldn't I just love the sweet and caring senpai ideal?! Guess I went the hardcore mode because I'm rich and used to opulence, lol. I still got six days... I guess Ortho will knock my door like hell when the time shall come, anyway. That makes me going outside at least five times to be prepared... Welp, I'll just play some games and read the lessons's content Ortho has sent me. Lol.

[Started Recording at : 11 am : Second??? Day]

[May contain fragments and shattered data]

[The user has deemed preferable to let them be.]

-LET'S FUCKIIIING GOOOOO

-What do you mean, dude? ... trying my best. No... really.... serious!

The room next to Ortho was definitely reflective of Idia's moods. His shouting and screaming and screeching and howling were as reversed as his flame hair. He was not a bother when he let his voice ramble... He was not annoying either.

-I'm... best DPS! Y'all can't outrun my skiiiiiiiiills!

He was just acting so happily. His little brother sat on the bed he had been offered by the school, in the room the school had offered him, in the world he had been offered. The covered by some shades of blue, very likely azure, bed, was probably soft.

-GOOD GAME y'ALLLLL! I'm... play... See y'all!

-Huh? If I want to stay in the... channel? Sure~! What do... wanna talk about, though?

He did not need to go outside to seek happiness. They knew about that. His flames barely had enough sense in existing, and could erase all of the logic they were looking for. This story did not make any sense. Should this story make sense? He was a half, after all. This should make sense. But why?

-Yeah, WyverneCastel? I.... yeah... need... later. If you can, ... course!

The next lesson would soon begin. It was better to stop Recording right now.

[Ended Recording at 11:30 am : Second??? Day]

Tbh, I only had good games so far. No Internet problems (of course, since I usually fix them, NRC is so fucking slow when it comes to administration and solving problems LOL), no Internet problems for my team, no server crash... I kind of like to solve little stuff like that, to be fair... Like, I didn't really use to when I was younger. Well, until a certain incident, of course... Maids and butlers would just bring sweets, cupcakes, forêt noire, macaron, lemon pie, millefeuille, sachertorte, éclair, tropézienne, chou à la crème, mochi, dango, baklava, Turkish delight, praline pie, crepes, waffles... No matter how dark and clean their suits and dresses were, none of them were exactly identical. I guess that's why I could recognize them, especially when I was small... I guess my parents just wanted to show off by telling others their servants could have a slightly customized outfit, or some kind of shit like that. It would probably cost a bit more than regular outfits they could just ordered at the same moment... Just because they had money, the "bit" was staying a "bit". I don't want to see them again... Their blue burning hair, like mine... I fucking hate it. I can't even dye it. I can't dye it. I can't dye it. I can't dye... I can't change them... I can't change... I'm a cursed heir in love with someone who could be a prince but isn't at the same time. This story cannot end in a way or another. This doesn't make any sense, yet it does. Can it just be absolutely absurd? Give me some powers that don't make any sense. I want them. I don't want to be a Shroud. Welp, guess I'll go and check what Ortho did for the lessons. I'll probably go and take a "walk" after (that is, earning outside-resisting exp points to lvl up my skill).

Okay, so the "recordings" go as "The Seventh's history may seem simple at first, but do not forget that History is made by winners. They were the ones to win and if their people are living in, for the most, good conditions, it is yet to be proven that the means were as glorious as the results. If someone says something when speaking of History, try thinking about the opposite. It may end up interesting, although I cannot deny some FACTS exist in History itself, since an enormous sample of people were made to make sure that it was a "fact" and therefore, not a "speculation". Well, these facts could be denied since propaganda exists in our world, alas. But doubting everything will spread discord, and even lying can be used by leaders to prevent peoples from collapsing or killing each other."

Up to this point, I cannot say it's difficult. I mean, it's just almost a Civilization creative game, huh. I guess this is just the introduction or something like that, and that the "hard" part will come right after...

"The Queen of Hearts has made an abnormal lots of rules, for instance. Yet, her peoples did not dethrone her. Does that mean they like her? Well, this could be interpreted as "respect" from our point of view. But from someone else, they could actually fear her and fear the fact she has sent people to death. She held trials to judge them before sentencing them to death or other punishments, that is true. Yet, were that true trials or actually fake trials only meant to look like trials and fair justice? We do not have enough clues about whether she actually listened to mitigating factors or... . To keep going with this idea, ... also was judged when ... came to Wonderland. The trial was ... and yet almost ... ."

I'm not gonna lie, why the hell are there blanks? Ortho is always serious and meticulous. There's no way he can miss a single word. His ears are among the best of the world. I'm pretty sure he can fucking outrun all of Savanaclaw when it comes to earing (well, actually, he probably can outrun ANYONE since he's great). So if there are blanks... there are but a few reasons for that. Either he needs an urgent update, but this has NEVER occurred before since I've spent months to create a perfect calendar to never let him suffer the most insignificant flaw. Thus it can't be that. He could have been beaten up but that wouldn't make any goddamn sense. Who would even try to hurt him when I'm so neutral to anyone? I legit don't give a shit about what's going on in NRC. I'm not even sure I met the new student (if they're that new since I dunno when they have arrived lol)... This left me with two solutions.

Either Ortho was infected by a Virus, but nobody here has my hacking skills so it's very unlikely or... he has started recording more than expected and it's making its components slow down. I guess I won't have any choice but upgrade his memory next time we update him. The thing is... what the fuck is Ortho recording outside of our notes? He's probably doing something for my sake or...?! No, he wouldn't do something that twisted... He wouldn't!!! He wouldn't seek intel on Silver for my sake?! Go back Ortho! GO BAAAACK! You're a pure-hearted shota character, you shouldn't seek to change your condition or you may end in a fucking violent time loop! I don't think he's actually doing this... It would be weird for Ortho to act on this own on shady stuff like this. I guess he is trying to help me in a way... But what the fuck can he be recording... I'll think about it after checking the other days recordings. Maybe there weree already some parasite noises or something like that?

So, I've listened to the whole yesterday recordings, and even the one before yesterday (I just sped up his voice since I just wanted to be sure there were no vocal errors). I am.. pretty sure of it, now. Ortho did not have troubles until yesterday night at least. It seems it has begun during the second part of Trein's class, so it wouldn't be stupid to think that his memory is being more and more filled by "something else". I guess I will just ask him to only pick the key information and understand by himself what the teachers told him... It will take faaaar less room. I'm going to get out now, that's probably night. I hope it will be another chilly travel.

OKAY THIS DIDN'T GO AS PLANNED AT ALL. NOT AT ALL, NOT AT ALL, NOT AT ALL. I thought I'd take a stroll towards in the refectory since no one is supposed to be there at that time but I FUCKING FORGOT THAT NO ONE GIVES A FUCKING SHIT IN THIS FUCKING SCHOOL?! I even thought of taking some food if there were some leftovers so that I could award myself from getting out of my room (cause honestly walking is boring as fuck, I'd rather walk in Skyrim, at least I can hear my leather boots on the ground, lol)... Of course people would have been there. But when I got out of my room, the chilly ascension kept on telling me to move forward.  Everything was covered in darkness, to the point I thought my flames would become that of a raven, finally. I took several steps, no matter what the light piercing my skull did. The gleam may try to bath the corridor of their blue burning halo, there were too much potential icicles ready to kill it. I just wanted the chill atmosphere to let me walk, and somehow it ended up this way. For now, my flames were too weak to even absorb the ice before absorbing their waters. I wish for it to weaken to the point my sparks die. I want to walk on that silver lake too... I don't want to fly above. I don't want to sink beneath. I want... to walk on it. To swim through it.

Basically, by the time I got to the refectory (always fucking heavily decorated, like what the hell, luxurious chandeliers????), I realized I made a mistake. There were at least two potential people going there at least once a week. From the moment I heard their voices, this was too fucking late. Trey and Jamil were arguing, somehow? I didn't even think it was possible for these two to argue... I mean, Trey is the cool glasses trope and Jamil is obviously the tortured-but-actually-cunning-and-not-that-bad one. How could they even argue? Well, not that I knew if it had happened before. Cater could post a lot of stuff on Magicam (and yet that wasn't even shitpost...), lol. But I don't remember seeing stuff on Trey badmouthing Jamil or the other way round... Trey was the kind to avoid troubles at all cost, especially since he was under Riddle's influence... I would behave the same, tho I would never have been vice-dorm-leader lmao (well im already dorm head and it's already a fucking pain in the ass, thanks)... I tried to escape but it was too late... I guess that's what I get for playing with my burning curse. They asked me what was I doing there, though they probably were not surprised of my walking "hours". They seemed so suspicious of myself that it was not an ordinary situation. Usually, they would maybe have greeted me... That's all. They began asking me if I was the one stealing the food. Even if my answer was clear, even shaky, none of them would accept it. I was... after all... fire. Fire and water never meddled. Even if I pushed my body to repeating the same answer under different shapes since I may have had a bad locution... They wouldn't listen to me. At some point, I even told them I would find the criminal later and that I would just record some little things they would say to me before going back to my dorm, but they wouldn't even let me go.

-Well, you see, Shroud, there were supposed to be some yakitori, curry portions and blanquette de veau left. All of them disappeared. Although I think it would be hard for you to eat all of this, your health habit seems bad enough to let you eat nothing for several days then compensate suddenly by a huge chunk of food. Am I wrong?

Jamil wasn't especially agressive toward myself, though I know he probably doesn't like me. Who likes me in this ocean, anyway. They were not fishes like Octacreepnelle, but more of... water elementals, I guess. Or maybe barely humans able to seize water and flowing into rivers. They could merge into this part I couldn't access. Of course I would be forever different and... hated as such. Very likely.

-I am sorry to interrupt you, Mr Viper, but I don't think Shroud is the responsible. I know for sure he has a sweet tooth, and yet, most of the sweets are actually there. Except some of the biggest cakes, everything is more or less there.

I would have rather prefered Trey not to reveal my weakness to the enemy, but he was also trying to protect me in a way. Trey is probably actually more of the hero in disguise trope...! Just kidding. But up to this point, they had so many proofs and yet were clueless and even daring to choose me as the culprit...

-The culprit isn't me, isn't Trey and isn't Jamil...

-Heh?

-How can you be so sure about that, Shroud?

-E-eh... You suddenly rely on me so much... Guess I'm good as long as I can be useful, huh... But you won't let me go if I don't spit the truth so... Basically, all of the sweets, which are tiny and not good for health, are left. Then, we can conclude it's neither of you because you would have picked up ingredients, not food itself, or at least not Trey since he probably values a lot baking and improving.

-T-That's true...

-Then, that could be Jamil... But why would he come again if he already has stolen that much? And from what I know, Jamil prefers to cook because of some dark poison stories, right?

-Y-yes, I cannot deny that...

-Then, it is neither Trey nor Jamil. About myself, I try to stay in my room as much as I can, and I'm pretty sure Ortho only go to the refectory during the authorized hours since he is much more reliable than I am. But why would anyone steal so much food in the first place? If it were for one person, one or two dishes would have been sufficient. Moreover, let's say it again, the sweets were not stolen. So the person who stole... didn't pick up what they wanted by love of good food! They stole it because they needed it.

-Hmm... I wouldn't disagree with you, Shroud but.. I am pretty sure I got a letter from Jamil telling me I had to get here at 10 pm...

-Excuse me, Clover? Aren't you the one who sent the letter?

-And that solves the mystery. There is someone who planned on stealing food, knew that you were the only two going for sure in the refectory during night and set you up.

-Wait, who dares to do such a personnal attack against Scarabia?

-It is very likely that the culprit is... Ruggie Bucchi from Savanaclaw.

-Wait.. that would actually make sense...?!

-Especially since he didn't get a lunch earlier... I guess he planned on pleading for hunger if someone was to catch him during the act. And so he sets us up by delivering letters on different hours, and not by his own hands... Wait this level of intellect is almost that of Azul... Ruggie Bucchie is really cunning and... worthy of praise in a sense.

-Hm, that would definitely make sense since he is always the one to get the leftovers in the refectory before the holidays to help the people of his town. I did not expect you to be that useful, Shroud.

-Heh, you're talking to the one who solved Hinamizawa and Rokkenjima's mysteries on the second parts of each, of course I can do such petty investigation.

-Well... thanks... on the behalf of... Scarabia. I am going.

Jamil just left, but tbh I don't really know why. I guess he wanted some time alone before going back to Kalim. At a certain point of my childhood, I had tried to ask less and less to maids and butlers since they all worked so hard. They probably wanted some freedom too. And... I wanted to learn things for myself, too.

-Oh, Shroud, since you've helped us a lot... And... you've thought of how hard I work on my cakes... I want to make you one as an award. And it must have been hard for you to speak to us. Ask me anything and I'll bring you a cake, my best cake, when you want me to give it to you.

-H-h-h-h-huh? I mm-m-m—mean it's really nice b-b-b-but I...

-That's okay, take your time, I won't scream or shout on you just because you're different from others.

-I... I... thanks... Thanks... But... Shouldn't y-y-y-y-you be paid for that...? I mean, you're a kind of artist, and artists should be p-p-p-paid, r-r-r-ight?

His face certainly moved. But why? Was it on its own, or an order, a semi-order, even? I couldn't tell whether his mouth was smiling or if he was smirking, or the other way around. His limbs were linked like any of the sea-universe kin. So, if he were to makes any action, it should be on purpose... but that would be far too easy and stupid.

-Yeah, sure, but you paid me by solving a big trouble. Of course, depending on what you ask, the fees could overcome the wish I had, and thus you would have to pay a supplement.

I had already asked him about the fees and talked about artist respect. I couldn't possibly go beyond what he would offer me since I, for once, had gathered experience on this one, right...

-Please... Can I have a... I hope it won't sound weird... grey and blue cake? With some hard candies on the top...

-Wow! That's an original idea, I like it! Sure, I'll make it. Blueberries and hmm... I guess some white chocolate, maybe some Turkish Delight if I'm in for it... I'll try to make something unique for you! When should I give it to you?

-I-in... five days, if it's fine with you... I really don't want to bother you, you're already so nice and patient with me...

-That's okay, I'll bring it in five days to the Ignihyde Dorm! But the hard candies and the Turkish Delight may make the cake harder to make... Since you're a Dorm Leader and I don't want Riddle to have troubles with you, could attend at least one PE class? That would make up for it.

-Y-y-y-y-y—yeah, sure.

[seasonofthegeek]

Just for Tonight: Felix’s Vision

The amazing @lahiffed sent me ko-fi to write Felix’s vision and what he experienced during Nathaniel’s power meltdown in Chapter 34 of Just for Tonight so here we gooooo...

___

The power hit him like a wave crashing down and he was filled with instant fear. Suddenly he was a small child again on the beach with his parents. He heard his mother laughing and saw his father hand her a drink as he struggled to keep his head above the ocean water. They didn’t see him. They couldn’t see he was in trouble. He cried out as another wave took him and then strong arms were wrapping around him and his father was picking him up out of the water and taking him back to the beach. Gabriel murmured soothing words and Felix remembered crying into his father’s shirt and holding onto the fabric tighter than he’d ever held anything before.

Another wave of power flowed over him and the fear was gone as quickly as it had come. It shifted into something he couldn’t quite place as he found himself walking through the Agreste mansion. This wasn’t the home he’d grown up in though. Death lingered in the air and the sounds of battle were happening all around him. He began to run down the long hall. He had to get to the library. He knew that’s where he needed to be. 

The stench of sullied blood grew nauseatingly strong as he got to the library doors. He could hear a struggle inside and without another thought, he was pushing the heavy doors open and taking in the scene. Bodies littered the floor and blood spattered the spines of the books he’d held so dear. His heart stopped when he saw Marinette in a bloodied white wedding dress. She was snarling, fangs glistening red, as she stood guard in front of Adrien’s still form while a man approached her with a sword. Felix moved to help her but before he could, the man was flying across the room with a growled curse from an unknown source.

“Nino,” Felix whispered and felt as if his strings had been cut. He’d lost hope that Nino could possibly still be alive after all this time. Surely Jagged killed him. This couldn’t be real. This was all a terrible dream.

Nino met his eyes in disbelief. He half-stood on guard, his hands still clawed and caked in blood. Blood coated his face and saturated his clothes and all the red made his golden eyes stand out in stark contrast. “You can’t be real.” His voice was hoarse, broken. He cast a glance to Marinette seeing to Adrien before returning his attention to the other man. “Who are you?”

Felix frowned. “I’m Felix. Nino, it’s me.” He took a step forward and Nino fell back into a defensive crouch, watching him warily.

“My Felix is dead.”

He wanted to cry. “I thought my Nino was dead too.” His voice was barely a whisper but he knew the other man heard him when he went to his knees. Felix closed the distance between them and knelt down. He cupped Nino’s face gently, thumbs sliding against the slick blood on his cheek. “Are you really here?”

“I like your hair.” Nino swayed on his knees and Felix caught him as he fell forward.

The room shifted around them and Felix felt confusion and fear taking him as he tried to hold onto Nino tighter than he’d ever held anyone before. And just as quickly, warmth and happiness settled around him like a fog and he breathed it in, feeling his body relax into the sensation. He was safe here. They both were.

They were in Nino’s room, stretched out beside each other on the bed. Nino’s fingers were twisting the ends of Felix’s hair around and around before releasing them to start again. “It’s so much longer,” he murmured and his eyes slid shut in a long, heavy blink.

“It is?” Felix was surprised to see how far his blonde hair reached across the pillow now. It was years’ worth of growth. That couldn’t be right, could it?

“And the tattoos are...” Nino trailed off with a yawn and snuggled closer. “Mmm, hot.”

“Tattoos? What tatt...” Felix looked down his bare chest and arms to see dark runes burned across his skin. They had to be Fae in origin. “Nathaniel...”

Nino made a content humming noise as Felix tightened his arms around him. 

“I’ll never leave you again. I promise.” He kissed his head and held on tight. Somehow Nathaniel had done this. It didn’t make any sense at all but maybe it had something to do with his magic. Felix still wasn’t sure what had been happening in the house. He needed to check in on Adrien. Were Gabriel and Nathalie and Adele still alive?

The brief wonder of who was now the king of France flitted across his mind and then he was staring at his reflection in a floor length mirror. He wore a beautiful suit with embroidered flowers and sigils decorating the lapels and collar. His hair was long and half-braided and interwoven with a beautiful silver crown. 

Nathaniel appeared behind him and wrapped his arms around his middle and hooked his chin over Felix’s shoulder. “You look very handsome,” he said and smiled at their reflection. “I’d expect nothing less from the king of vampires.”

“I don’t understand what’s happening.” Felix wanted to be put off by Nathaniel’s familiarity but something about it felt calming and right. They didn’t know each other well enough for this. Felix rarely liked to be touched unless it was by someone he chose.

“I think this is Marc’s doing somehow,” he answered and stepped away. “I’ve seen so many things tonight. He has a gift for visions.”

“But--”

Nathaniel reached around to cover Felix’s mouth with his hand. “Just see what he has to show you. You need to see that there’s hope,” he commanded and then he gone in a whisp of power and Felix was turning to see Nino standing in the doorway.

“Big day. You ready?” He held out his hand and Felix immediately reached for it.

“I’m not sure.”

“Don’t let Adrien hear you say that. He and Mari are already making plans to leave for a few months. If you try to give him the crown, they’ll be on the first plane out tonight without so much as a goodbye,” Nino laughed. He tugged on his suit jacket with his free hand. “Do you think this looks okay? It’s not what I’m used to but Chloe insisted it looked better than what I had picked out already.”

“You know Chloe?” Felix’s brow furrowed. “Were you hunters together? Wait. No, that can’t be right. You’re much older than her.”

“Good thing she’s not the one I’m marrying then,” he teased. When Felix didn’t reply, Nino cocked his head worriedly. “Hey, are you okay? You seem a little out of it.”

“Stress, I suppose,” he answered in a distracted manner. “You said it’s a big day?”

“Your coronation? The thing you’ve been wanting your whole life?” Nino raised an eyebrow. “I’d say so. Look, if you want to postpone...”

“Of course not! I mean...I’m just...I think I need a minute to think.”

“Do you want me to go?” Nino offered.

“Never.”

He smiled and rubbed his thumb along Felix’s knuckles as the other man tried to process what was happening.

“I don’t believe this is real,” he finally said. “I think this is a possible future.” He looked at NIno. “Which means you have to still be alive, right? If you’re dead, none of this could happen so since I’m seeing this, I know you’re still alive.”

Nino didn’t answer but he began to hum as his thumb kept stroking along Felix’s skin. 

“I have to come back for you, for everyone,” he continued. “That’s what this is trying to show me. But how? I’m not enough on my own.” He closed his eyes and when he opened them, he and Nino were in a bed again but this one was far bigger and more elegant than Nino’s.

His body felt heavy and sated and he could feel the sweat cooling against his skin from their previous activities. He breathed in deeply and felt the sting of pain and pleasure as soon as he smelled the coppery scent of blood. “You’re going to get drunk again,” he said languidly and heard Nino’s deep chuckle. He felt his warm tongue lave against the wound before the familiar sucking sensation that followed.

Felix welcome the lightheaded feeling and knew he could trust Nino to stop even under the influence of royal blood. This was their new normal. This was all he ever wanted. 

“Mmm, my king,” Nino slurred, moving up to kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Felix replied softly. He tugged at one of the loose waves of Nino’s hair. He liked it growing out. The combination of sex and blood loss weighed on him and he felt his eyelids droop. “Just give me five minutes and I’ll be good to go,” he murmured.

“You said that two hours ago,” a rough voice complained.

Bright light seared his eyes and Felix rolled over with a groan, burying his face in a pillow. 

“Get up, you fucking invalid,” Xander demanded. “I’m sick of guarding your ass and I’m hungry. So either you’re going to feed me or I’ve got to go find some blood and let me tell you, they do not like me in the kitchen. Of course, if I drink from you, I’m only hurting myself so once again, I’m the one who gets screwed in this whole deal. I’m just lucky like that.”

Felix peered out with one eye. “What?” he croaked. His throat felt raw and his stomach rumbled. How long had he been sleeping?

“Are you finally awake?” Xander’s attention sharpened on him. “I’ve been talking to you for days and you just blather on about nonsense. Nonsense and fucking Nino. Definitely scarred from that so thanks so much.”

“Days?” He tried to sit up and found he couldn’t move very well. 

“More like a week now. Damn it, you’re worse off than I thought. No wonder I’ve been feeling so shitty. I’ve been feeding nonstop to keep you alive. I’ll get some food brought up and tell the king freak you’re awake.”

It took far too much effort to bring his hand to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache beginning, the telltale pulse in his temple being all the sign he needed. He tried to gather his thoughts. Had Xander said he’d been asleep for a week? How was that possible? What had happened with the council? Where were the others? Was Nino really--

“You’re awake.” Nathaniel beamed at him and Felix already felt better. His muscles ached a little less and he felt the headache ease away as the other man sat on the edge of his bed. “We’ve all been worried about you.”

“Was I dreaming?” The last word got caught in his dry throat and he coughed.

Nathaniel held out his hand and a glass of warm blood appeared as if he’d always been holding it. “This might help.”

Felix looked at the glass with a bit of trepidation but his hunger won out and he was quickly grabbing it and draining it. As soon as he held it away, it refilled. “I’m guessing you got a power up,” he murmured. 

“You could say that,” Nathaniel nodded. “I control all the magic of the Fae.”

“What do you mean ‘control’?”

The man he’d first met peeked through as he slumped a little. “I’m not entirely sure but it feels like a huge responsibility.”

“I’d think so.”

“Are you really feeling okay? I’ve made sure Xander has been well fed to keep you healthy, though I’m thinking I didn’t push it enough.”

Felix began his second glass of blood more slowly. “I don’t understand what happened with the seer. How did I see Nino?”

“Is that his name? I kept checking in on you when I could and you were always so happy in his presence. He’s the one you left behind, isn’t he?”

“Not the only one.” Felix sighed and took a long sip. “Was any of it true?”

“It was a possible future. Every second of every day changes the future so there’s no way to say that one is for sure going to happen. At least that’s what Marc says. He’s still learning the ropes on this too.”

“The seer?”

Nathaniel nodded. “And the third of my power. Apparently we make up the legended Triumvirate of Life and Death.”

“You’ve had a busy week.”

“You did too.”

Felix rested the glass against his thigh. “I think I have to go back, but I don’t know how. I’m not strong enough to take down Jagged and his men on my own. I don’t even know what’s happening there right now.”

“If you can be patient with me and let me bring peace to this realm, I’ll do whatever is in my power to help you when the time comes.”

He frowned. “I don’t think I can wait. Everything they must be going through...”

Nathaniel gave him a sad look. “I can’t leave this place right now and unless I lift my mark, you can’t either.” He covered Felix’s hand with his. “I need you to trust me. You need this time to heal so that you can help them.”

Felix swallowed hard. He thought back to Nino playing with his long hair and the tattoos adorning his skin. He had to wait. He had to get to that time. And when he did, he was going to save them all. 

Buy me a cherry coke?

[tellywoodtrash]

ishqbaaz 05.10.17 lb

why is mr. “who are you???” looking for anika? that too in om’s room?

sup tanya? 

someone plug tanya in and charge her, coz she be like: 

...... like my insomniac ass has more energy than her. 

aaaaaaand the power is out. as usual. you guys should invest in an inverter or something. 

aw man, his first thought is her. shivaaaaaaaay, you stupid, adorable man. 

damn, tanya be smarter than she looks. what energy she conserves in talking, she uses to chalaofy dimaag. she’s svetlana-level smart. kachchi khilaadi nahi hai! 

what random room is he breaking into?

ohhh this is that ugly pink guest room. 

his face man. his face is killllllllllllling me. 😭😭😭😭

the jig is up. the billu is out the bag. 

omg f off tanya, let a man hug his wife for 3 seconds. 

this poor helpless boy. he’s just trying to keep everyone from getting murdered, man. 

anika, if you know he’s doing this for a reason, then stop hounding him to recognize you??? like???????? 

oh shit is she gonna catch them? 

nope. shivaay to the rescue. 

damn, this tanya really is smarter than she looks. 

“problem humari hai, jab yeh ghar ban raha tha tab tum paida nahi hui thi, warna tumse poonch lete ki fuse box kahan hona chahiye.”  “fuse box agar is room mein hai, toh lights on kyun nahi hui?” “.... kyunki main electrician nahi hoon.” 

LMAO OMG SNARK SINGH OBEROI 🤣🤣🤣🤣

oh boyyyyy, anika has it out for luchiii tuchiiii tanya. 

rudra ghar pe nahi hai, toh anika is teaming up with second most bewakoof wafadaaar: khanna 

lol ok i kinda love this stupid pair. 

abbe anika, saaaay chandniiiiiiiiiii

OH GOD KHANNA 

people are almost murdered in this house on an hourly basis, tanya. gotta get used to it if you’re gonna live here. 

lmao “aapke liye toh shivaay sir ka phone matlab yamraj ke order jaisa.” 

i really love that blue bookshelf and mirror. #wishlist

lmaooooo omg anika is saying the same thing i did about oberoi mansion 

oh god what is omkara even doing??? i don’t even wanna watch this track. 

shakki dimaag ke awaiiii ke pentre. 

is he on drugs again????? 

waqt bitaana hai aur akele mein.... WHICH IS WHY YOU HAVE A ROOM IN YOUR HOUSE. WHY WOULD YOU BRING HER TO THIS SHADY-DIRTY HOTEL????

“tumhare standard ki toh hai” OMFG OMKARA

oh godddddddd jamaaalgota. what is this, the 90s???? 

i love khanna’s fanboy-ing over anika. he’s living vicariously through her. 

yup, anika’s fully been influenced by andaz apna apna. 

the best bollywood movie of all time. OF ALL TIME.

anika going on a rant about people not having seen AAA is so me, it’s not even funny. 

lmao “aap aas paas rahiyega... hosla-afzaai ke liye” 

OMKARA WHAT THE FUCK EVEN, I HAVE SO MUCH MICHMICHIIIIIIIIII RN

oh gauriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. girllllllll. *holds her to me and never lets go* 

OM I NEVER THOUGHT I COULD HATE YOU SO MUCH BUT HERE WE ARE

jesus, tanya is such an ajeeeb gale paduuuuu. 

anika’s “specialty” is roohafza. bringing up the grand total of things she can make to TWO. 

“darro mat, ismein maine kuch bhi nahi milaya.” 

LMAO. SOUNDS LEGIT. 

“mera matlab, cheeni tak nahi milaayi. shivaay toh cheeni se sau miiil ke doori pe rehte hai. tabhi toh itne kadwe hai.” 

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT LOL. USKE BEECH MEIN PATI KO TAANA. 

hahahahaha, shivaay’s suspicious look. 

oh god sahillllllllll nooooooooo! 

LMAO SHIVAAY’S EXPRESSION. SON, DON’T YOU KNOW YOUR WIFE BY NOW????  

ok anika abhi zyaada ho raha hai. everyyyyone is suspicious now.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaand like in AAA, the glasses are all mixed up. 

anikaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. why so pativrata??? usse peene deti. he deserves some jamaalgota in his life. 

lolllllllllll shivaay just muttering the word CHEAP over and overrrrr 😂😂😂

shivaaaay fully knows something is up. look at his look of resignation, yet waiting for something to happen. 

OMFG SHIVAAY WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON 😒😒😒😒

this is a reaallllllllly classy room for a shady “by the hour” hotel. 

ugh om i haaaaaaaaaaaaaate you so much rn

he had this waiting in this room???? 

NO DON’T TOUCH HERRRRRRRRRR GET YOUR FILTHY MITTS OFF HER

gauri nooooooooooo. 😩😩😩😩😩

oh ho anika, just let her gooooo to the bathroom, what is wrong with youuuu???? 

lol omg emotional blackmailllllllllllll 

shivaay’s confused af faces are giving me life. 😂😂😂😂

anika’s cackle just added 5 years to my life. 😇😇😇

UGH I REALLY DON’T WANNA WATCH THIS RIKARA PLOTTTTTTTT I AM HAVING FORCED WEDDING DAY WAALI MICHMICHIIIIIIIIIIIIII

lol whyyyyy do none of the obros know what a chathth/terrace is???? this is clearly not a terrace. 

intentional symbolism with the white sari???? well, maybe subconsciously by omkara, since he picked it out. 

ok om this is a hella lotta extra work for humiliating someone. like, you didn’t even know she was coming back until half an hour ago?????

ok who tf is in charge of the music selection for rikara and why do they hate their job so much????? WHY DO THEY PICK SUCH CRAPPY OLD-SCHOOL SONGS??????? 

OMG I SAW ONE HOT SECOND OF THE LIP SYNCING AND I CAN’T.... LIKE... THIS IS HORRIBLE. SP. BALASUBRAMANIAM’S VOICE DOES NOTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT SUIT HIM. I LOVE YOU KUNAL BUT NO. NOPE. ABSOLUTELY NOT. 

fwding through it, and gosh, gauri looks so happy. oh bb. 😣😣😣

omkara, what right even do you have to look so fucking angsty and sad and demand answers????? you have no answers for herrr, why the fuck even should she be committed to you or this sham of a “marriage”??? 

wait, was that all a dream or??? what’s happening????? 

NO. DON’T PLAY ROMANTIC MUSIC RIGHT NOW. AND YOUUUUU, YOU HORRIBLE BOY, DO NOT FUCKING DO WHAT I THINK YOU’RE ABOUT TO DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GODDAMNIT OMKARA I WANT TO CHOP THOSE SEXY HANDS OF YOURS OFFFFFFFFFFFFF

..... QUESTION: why do this on the hotel terrace, when you’re paying for a perfectly good room??? like... it just seems like a waste of money. 

i can’t believeeeeeeeeeeeeeee that the rikara tharak we all wanted is being corrupted to this extentttttt. fucking hellllll harneet. 

“kaisa lag raha hai?”.... “did you like it???”..... did all these brothers take seduction classes from the same person??? 

i must say, i commend whoever they took the classes from, for putting emphasis on the woman’s pleasure. 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND YEAH I WANT HIM DEAD. I WANT HIM TO MEET A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH. I WANT SHIVAAY TO BEAT HIS ASS TO WITHIN AN INCH OF HIS LIFE FOR FUCKING WITH GAURI LIKE THIS 😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡

oh man, her faceeeeee. 

YAAAAS BITCH DO NOT LET HIM WALK AWAY. TEAR HIM A NEW ONE, QUEEN. TEAR HIM THREE NEW ONES. 

aaaankhon se kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaa dekhaaaaaa you sawwwwww nothingggggggggggggggggg you idiotttt???? 

what gehri chot, you stupid fucker?? fuck off with your non-existent, entirely-manufactured-by-your-fucked-up-by-drugs-brain manpain. 

jhoot aur sach ki toh baaaaaat hi mat karo tum omkara. like.... i can’t even... 

omkara i hope you repay all of her tears with YOUR BLOOD. BLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDD. DIEEEEE YOU ASSHOLE. 

GAURI WHY ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO THIS CRAPPPPPP???????????????????????????

GO GAURI. JUST FUCKING LEAVE. DON’T EVEN TURN BACK TO LOOK AT THIS SON OF A BITCH. EVER. FUCKING EVER. 

GOD, JUST GIVE ME SHIVIKA ALREADYYYYYY!!!!! I CAN’T HANDLE BHAVYA’S SADNESS TOOOOOOO RIGHT NOW. 

ET TU, OFFICER DAD???????

GOD I’M FUCKING EXHAUSTED BY THIS EPISODE. IMMA GO SHOVEL COLD PIZZA INTO MY FACE HOLE IN AN ATTEMPT TO FILL THE VOID INSIDE ME. I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY OMKARA. 😒😒😒

ohhhhhhhhhhhh lord, shivaay’s gotten wind of the kalyani mills secret. like the poor boy didn’t have enough issues in his life. 

[rebekahsremarkable]

Finding A Man Worth Keeping

My parents worked a lot when I was a kid.They’re business owners (my Dad and his wife, that is), and so they didn’t find much time to explain to me what dating is like, or what I should look for in a man. My Dad tried his best to explain who the perfect man is in his eyes, usually during our commutes to school or over the dinners I’d make the family before he had to rush to bed. All I knew from those conversations was that when I was looking for the perfect man (because you know, that’s what women do- look for the perfect man *rolls my eyes at patriarchy*), he would need to have a good credit score, a running car, and a five-year plan.

Now, being that I was seventeen at this time, none of those things made much sense to me, and of course guys my age barely had pubes, let alone a vehicle of their own. When I split up with my high school boyfriend, my parents took note at my stages of heartbreak (I.E, lots of Greys Anatomy and Say Yes to the Dress).

My birthday had finally come around, and I didn’t have anyone to spend it with besides my siblings. My parents weren’t home when I went to bed that night, but when I did- I found a book waiting for me called “Finding a Man Worth Keeping” with a bright yellow sticky note on it. It was from my Step Mom, a wholesome, good-hearted Christian woman.

I laughed at the book, at first. It had a ridiculous looking white woman on the front- her hair in an updo, with a veil sprouting from her high bun. She smiled directly at me, flashing a ring on her wedding finger, as if her eyes were screaming “His name is Walter, and he manages a hedge fund. We’re honeymooning in Turks and Caicos”.

I threw the book aside, and thanked my Step Mom for it later. I didn’t think much about it, and it was out of mind for years, until I found it a few weeks ago.

When I found the book, I was actually looking for my Buffy the Vampire Slayer graphic novel in some forgotten boxes in my basement. I blew the dust off and still saw that yellow sticky note on it, and I met eyes with the same bride that had taunted me so many years before.

“Bitch.” I scoffed. It seemed so trivial and disheartening to my inner feminist agenda that a book had to be written for how a woman can find a man worth keeping. Isn’t there other things to read about? Such as the future of the next generation of Vampire Slayers, perhaps? Oddly enough, I guess to see if I could find it as some kind of joke to laugh at later, I took it with me upstairs once I found the book I was actually looking for.

I sprawled out on my bed and cozied up with my comic. Ah, this is the life. I opened my treasure to the page I last remembered leaving off at- Buffy is ready to face the Twilight- a secret society in which-

My eyes drew away from the pages I was holding and drifted to the book. Why am I so curious about these pages that were first introduced to me in my teens? I’m not looking for Disney Princess kind of love anymore. I watch Sex and the City, which means, I’m pretty fucking sophisticated now. I do things like order cosmopolitans and go out with my girlfriends and go on dates with fitting young men. I don’t need a book to tell me how to find a man.

Am I single? Yes. But men are everywhere. It’s not difficult to find one. It would be pretty nice if I saw less of them, actually. I’ve haven’t been able to get the burning smell of Axe body spray out of my nostrils since the seventh grade.

I then noticed the only cursive writing on the cover. “Finding a Man Worth Keeping”.

I felt my arm slowly reach towards the book when my phone lit up and buzzed. Although I was single, I recently had struck up an interest in a young man by the name of Patrick. His text read sweetly:

“I guess I’m just shocked.” He said, in regards to my interest in him.

I was a little shocked too. Not only was Patrick a few years younger than me, but he was also far from my type. Patrick, with certain shoes on, stood at about six foot. He dressed like a nervous new ninth grade teacher who was desperate to be called something he thought was hip like ‘S-Dawg’. He wore square glasses to hide the fact that his cheeks were a little chunky- something that made him look younger, yet was his most endearing quality.

Patrick took me out for a date a few days later, and when cleaning my room before his car pulled into my driveway, I put the book up on my shelf, hidden behind my Captain America’s and Astonishing X-Men’s.

It wasn’t long before Patrick and I started spending all our spare time together. Weekends were compiled of his friends hanging out with my friends, and me making dinner for him. We bickered often- over everything- whether Amy Schumer was funny (she is), whether We’re The Millers is a comedy classic(it’s not), and whether we should be dating other people.

The latter was a particular bickering instant that escalated into an argument: My side saying that without a title, dating others is fair grounds. His argument being, if you’re happy with someone- a title doesn’t matter, and if you want to build up to the title- you shouldn’t see anyone else.

I admired how Patrick was so passionate about keeping me to himself, yet I was settled on the ‘Can’t Have Your Cake and Eat It To’ philosophy. Patrick’s reply to this, was simply, “Why would I have the cake unless I had the intent to eat it?”

So, imagine a twist when I wake up to a text from Patrick saying he, “Can’t give me what I want.” It sounded like a familiar out.

Ah, and he thought he was original. A 2017 Man’s “I just can’t give you what you want”, is a 1997 Man’s “It’s not me it’s you”. It’s a nice sentiment, but we both know what you’re saying here. Just like the 1997′s breakup statement actually means “It totally is you, it’s not me at all.” The 2017′s statement means, “I just don’t want to give you what you want.”

I was especially confused because never asked him for anything. He ended the text with the timeless classic, “I hope we can be friends.” Ouch. For some reason, I’d much rather he say he hated me.

I lay in my bed and looked up at the ceiling, imagining the popcorn-like texture making shapes like clouds. Somehow my eyes again met the binding of that book.

As weeks passed, I focused on switching careers, finding something almost doubling my current salary. I was ecstatic. I decided to throw a celebratory get together with old friends and new. As I got ready for the party, with my new dress on and my hair down- I imagined myself in a millennial’s dream world: paying off student debt, having more money to travel, and being more independent. In this moment, in this particular dream world, there was no man by my side. No man worth keeping. Just me.

That moment was sweet, but fleeting. My phone lit up, and I froze looking at the name on the screen. It was Ian(see previous posts), and somehow seeing his name turned my dream world into nothing but an insecure nightmare.

“What are your plans tonight?” He asked, through Facebook Messenger. “Do you want to go out?”

“I can’t,” I responded, nonchalantly. Like my metaphorical feathers hadn’t been ruffled. “I’m having some people over tonight. It’s fun, but, it’s just my friends.”

“Oh,” he stated, briefly. “Have fun.”

And fun I had. Though the sudden correspondence with the tanned skinned and bearded devil certainly threw me off, it didn’t steer me completely off course. I was hammered. And as my best friend helped escort me into bed, my phone jolted. I answered it without a care.

“Gooooo for Rebekah.” I grinned, holding the phone to my ear.

“Hey.” Ian said. I could recognize his voice even if there were a thousand people in the room.

I could tell you our whole conversation. In fact, I almost did. But you, my loyal readers, understand this correspondence. We’ve seen this play out before, haven’t we? And to be honest, I could end the story here, and you’d know what would happen, wouldn’t you? It’d be Rebekah crying alone. Re-discovering her self worth, coming to her senses, and then move on until the next time, right?

So let’s fast forward a few days. Let’s fast forward passed the days of text conversations talking about apologies. Passed the funny quips and inside jokes. The admiration we both expressed to each other. We’ll even keep going passed when he asked me to watch him be alpha-male with his friends at their athletic games, cheering him on with the other girls on the sidelines. Passed his little comments about me being, “The one who got away.” Passed when his friends said behind his back I was too good for him, and that Ian knew that too. Passed celebrating his wins, and giving him a hug when he lost. We’ll go passed when he kissed me on the forehead and told me he “valued” me as a person, for who I am beyond any physical aspect alone. We’ll even skip over when he slept with me.

Let’s just go to when he froze me out the next day. Let’s just briefly mention that he re-blocked me on social media, but made sure there was one post visible on his most popular social media platform that read:

“I want that forever type of love…But maybe they just don’t make that type for me.”

To the men who read this blog- you may not get why that hurt so much. Men, by instinct, understand sex by it’s textbook definition. Women, intuitively, understand sex also by what sex stands for. When a woman has sex with a man she cares about, she willingly gives a piece of herself she can never get back. This piece, she feels, she can live without, because if this piece helps this man become whole- it’s worth the cost of it making her incomplete.

Ian accepted this piece of me, as he always does. He takes up a collection of my pieces. The problem is, he doesn’t use them to help make him whole- he never needed them in the first place. He only wants to collect them as trophies.

So, when reading that statement, typed only eleven hours after he graciously accepted a piece of me I can never get back… It was as if my heart was ripped out of my chest. It was as if I was wasted potential. The parts of me I had given him, I couldn’t give to someone else. He manipulated my once sky-rocketing self worth into a dwindling void that felt I was, and never could be “forever love” material.

My body sank into my bed as I let out just one good cry. I turned to my side and saw again that binding of the book I had put up some weeks earlier.

“Finding a Man Worth Keeping” I said, aloud in my empty room.

I wondered if there was a book like this for men. I was sure there wouldn’t be- if it existed, there would’ve been too many contradictions. I was sure it would say things like:

“Don’t marry her if she sleeps with you.” “Don’t marry her if she doesn’t sleep with you.” “Don’t marry her if she is too eager.” “But don’t marry her if she plays games.” “Don’t marry her if she rushes into things.” “But also don’t marry her if she doesn’t give you what you want.”

I cried at the thought that, though this book set the precedent that it’s the man who is at fault for not being kept- I was the person Ian had decided could never be worthy of his “forever kind of love”. Rather than the issue of finding a man worth keeping, am I just not a woman worth keeping?

Before I knew it, I sat on my bed, cross-legged, and opened the book to a random page. The author, happily married, had asked the reader to make a fictional ad for her perfect man, and to be as specific as possible.

Shrugging off the feeling that I was actually ashamed to be going through this exercise, I grabbed a pen and paper, and began writing the following:

“WANTED MAN WHO: Is gentle. Not the kind of gentle in which he just doesn’t yell at me or anything. He’s a just a gentle human being. He loves all lives- not just his own. He’s internally confident. Not loud or boastful, but loves to crack a good joke, sometimes at my expense- but I’ll get a few good ones in, too. He smiles at the little things. He thinks the mornings I wake up hungover with my eyelash hanging off my cat eyed-stained eye lid, I’m the sexiest person in the world. He kisses me even though I have morning breath. Even though he may not understand the world I live in, he strives to. He’s honest with me. And not in a way where he just doesn’t lie… He’s honest with me about why he is the way he is. He tells me about his mom and his dad and that he’s always been self conscious about something weird like a third nipple or the fact that he can’t turn left. He’s emotionally strong. He gets me mad and he wants to talk about it. He lets me rub his back and he insists on rubbing my feet after. And most of all, without a doubt in my mind… he’s mine.”

I underlined that last word. Mine. For some reason, in this moment, it was important that I emphasized that. The book then asked me to do the same thing, except, in this ad, I am writing down an advertisement of the men I have dated. The author mentioned to be specific as possible, using examples.

“WANTED MAN WHO: is self centered. Who believes his needs stand before mine. One who yells at me when he’s drunk, and that it’s my fault he drinks. Or a man who reminds me of the other women who want him. A man who is unsure if I’m actually the one, or if I’m just familiar. A man who uses me as a grooming tool for his ego. A man who holds me like he won’t let go, but then he does anyways. This man can also not want me but also doesn’t want me with anyone else. See also, men who claim they want to build something great but refuse to do the leg work. He may or may not be a liar, but he’s convincing enough that I don’t care. He may also be completely convinced he’s a “good guy” only because he feels slight guilt after the fact. And let’s not forget, the most important one, he loves to give false hope and even more- he loves to rip it away.”

The author then asked me to compare my list. “What are the biggest differences in these ads? Why do you feel these ads are so different?” The author asked.

I shut the book and saw that somehow it was three am. I cuddled up in my favorite Spiderman pj’s and lay my head on my fluffiest pillow as I thought about the exercise I just did. The things I hated most in men were the things that drew me to them, or what drew me back.

I was especially disappointed in the fact that a self-help book had to help me reach this conclusion. But why did I have to build a man worth keeping?

I drew myself back to my first initial question: Aren’t there better things to do than read a book on how to find a good man?

A light bulb went off- and my body sat straight up. I turned my lamp on and flipped the page on the notebook I had wrote in earlier and made an all-new ad I felt was much more important:

WANTED, IN SEARCH OF: Adventure. Love. Not just romantic kind of love, a love for myself and others. A deeper sense of belonging. A deeper sense of authenticity. More girl friends. More guy friends! MORE FRIENDS! A woman who speaks up for herself. A woman who embraces her sexuality, her prowess, and her inner being. A woman who tries everything once. An open woman. A woman’s woman. A woman who drives fast when it’s exhilarating and drives slow when she knows it’s time to enjoy the view. A woman who doesn’t care what a man thinks…

A woman who knows she’s a woman worth keeping.”

*************************

Thanks for reading. This one’s password protected because it’s especially personal this time. I really appreciate you taking the time to read, and I hope you enjoyed and understood and related to the material. Doing this keeps me sane. It keeps me Rebekah.

[shogunchelios]

Seven Sins: A Discussion and Ranking

When I was 17, I declared myself an atheist and went along my merry way. twenty years later, I merry'd my way back to the discussion because it turns out, there's more to it than that. The whole concept of god and the afterlife and guardian angels and devils is too fantastical for me. I thought that was what being in a religion was about. believing all the crazy parts of the holy books as literal. it wasn't until I started to introspect full blast (because I was fully blasted on the ganja) that I understood what religion truly was. The real meat (that you can't eat on fridays) of religion is to provide a structure, a rulebook for life. Being an angsty teenager, I didn't mind throwing that out along with the supernatural stuff. How dare you impose rules on me? I'm a legal adult! Now that I've been developing into an actual adult, I see that rules aren't things to hold us back. It's the rules that make everything work better. Just like the universe wouldn't exist without electromagnetism, weak and strong nuclear forces, and gravity, life doesn't function as well without some restrictions. like in wrestling, the matches aren't as good if the referee just allows anyone to interfere, anyone to get pinned, etc. We fall into chaos when there is no order, which is what Jordan Peterson's book is all about. Last weekend, I was at a family gathering of in-laws and someone there was really into 'the secret.' The dude is even going to come out on the new documentary they're going to put out after the success of the old one. the old one was something i hated because it was so dumb. The video is just folks saying 'well, i just focused my thoughts on checks arriving to my mail, instead of bills, and now a year later, checks are coming in every week!' It's like those workout videos that show a fat person and a muscular person three months later. they leave out the part where the entire lifestyle (diet, sleep, consistent workouts) has to change. the secret left out the part where you still have to do some work. But when the dude started explaining why he enjoyed the secret, most of it was what I read in Jordan Peterson's book (fix yourself first, be grateful for what you have, etc). Which in itself is just a guidebook of rules to follow. It seems non-secular folk spend a lot of time searching out new religions, as long as they're not called religions. The ones I've gravitated to are buddhism (life sucks, so make the best of it) and the self-help corner (make a plan, distract yourself from sucky life with material/emotional successes). none of them have god in them. which makes it tougher because if you have some all-powerful being you're disappointing, it motivates you, especially if he can see you at all times (like santa. didn't like to disappoint him either). But when it's just me I'm disappointing, well, I don't care as much, because who am I to try to impress myself? fuck myself, that guy sucks anyway. which is why my roaring twenties were spent going the opposite way. if there is no god, and it's just me, then fuck it, let me do all the things i shouldn't and see where it gets me! then god is sitting there, like thanos in endgame, telling me 'where did that bring you? back to me. I am inevitable.' Then he caused a huge flood and killed half the population. but it's not all bad. We learn from our experiences and the mistakes teach us the most. I haven't touched a stove burner since I was five and touched it that one time. so, without further ado, here's a ranking of the seven deadly sins in order from worst to best! 7. wrath not too surprising that wrath would end up pretty low on my list, considering my usual happy-go-lucky baseline. it's in there though. i feel it, like when i'm driving somewhere and the asshole in front of me is tapping on their brakes even though there aren't any cars in front of them. or when i want to turn right and the dude in front of me isn't turning on the red light and waits for the green light TO TURN RIGHT. my biggest wish from when i started driving was

that every car had some sorta phone and everyone's carphone number is the same as the license plate. that way, i can call the asshole in front of me and go full sam kinison on them. 'FFFUUUCCCKING GOOOOO YOOU GOODDAMMN MOTHERFUCKER SONOFAFUCKINGBITCHMOTHERFUUUUCKEEEERRRRRRR!' other than the road rage though, i don't partake too often in the fun of wrath. i know i have more in me because at least a couple times of year i have a dream where i'm beating the crap out of somebody. but like, excessively. and it's never anyone very specific. that's why i'm not sure if a memory i have from my youth is real or not. i think i had sent that story already, but when i was about 4 or 5 years old, i was at my grandpa Chorizo's house and i beat the everloving shit out of some neighborhood kid while my brother and uncle egg'd me on. then we never spoke about it again. so was it real or a wrath dream? the world may never know. 6. envy this one would've been ranked higher about 10-15 years ago, right at the height of myspace/facebook/google+ (i swear it almost became a thing! you should've given it a try!). it's not just wanting what others have though. it's also taking pleasure in their misfortune (good ol' schadenfreude [i had to google 'buddhism' to spell it right, yet i got schadenfreude right on the first try, which says a lot about me]). social media and envy are like jerry and beth when they go to the alien marriage counselor. alone, each one is bad, but obvious. together, though, and they're unstoppable, one feeding into the other endlessly. healthier folks can channel their envy into something positive. "i want to go on a cruise too, i'm going to work harder to achieve it!" for unhealthy assholes like me though, it's more "why is this big-bootied chick with that schlub? i'm much handsomer! i should homewreck." but even if it were to happen, at that point, i wouldn't even want that chick anymore. no one wants to be part of a club that would have themselves as a member. the longing and wanting is the best part of envy, which is why it's ranked this low. that part sucks. i like getting what i want and having it. the anticipation is the part i dislike the most. waiting in line brings up my wrath and that takes up way too much energy. 5. pride according to my extensive research (wikipedia), pride is the worst of the worst. the father of all sins. pride leads to every other vice. it is the complete anti-god state of mind. they have the tower of babel as their image to define it. believing we're powerful enough to build a tower high enough to reach god, how dare us? putting ourselves first before all, that's not too good, says the bible/god. but wouldn't that make god prideful? the dude doesn't allow us to put anything else before him, that's the biggest unchecked pride i know of, but i guess when you create existence, you can be full of yourself. my pride is mostly all about my looks, as if it wasn't obvious. sometimes i think i suffer from low self-esteem, but that's mostly about my inside, i feel like i'm a piece of shit. but the outside, i think i've got a decent situation happening. it's that belief that throws gas on my fire of superficiality. no fat chick would ever have a chance with me, because, c'mon, look at me, i can do better than you. that's why i befriended all those fat girls that later were ready to divorce to have a chance at me. i figured 'well, they don't give me boners, so it's totally safe to be charming/flirty.' not even considering that they may be catching feelings and ready to risk it all for a taste of my sweet chocolate lovin. i know, seems like i'm high on pride, so why is it so low? because it's exhausting. i'm constantly in a state of mind of 'i'm the star of the show' as if i'm being filmed for a reality show that's being filmed in secret, truman show style. it's why i alternate hairstyles so often, because i have to keep things fresh for my audience. practicing my facial expressions in the mirror, telling anecdotes to myself ahead of time,

expensive haircuts, it's time consuming. the buddhism helped bring my ego into check. it's about controlling the hungry ghost. or, like in 'community' where the gang go to a party as celebrity impressionists, i was going through a jeff winger inflating apple moment until it burst (britta came up with the metaphor, which to her is 'an idea with another idea's hat on' which is such a perfect metaphor). now, i try to spend less time on my looks, and more time on my rotten insides. 4. greed isn't the quote 'greed is good' (i hate putting punctuation inside quotes when they don't match the quote, so here's a sidenote to make space for the question mark)? i think folks can manage and be decent even if they've got some of that greed in them. It helps them make a lot of money, which they can use for good. unless they have a lot of pride, then maybe not. it's the combinations that get you. the reason I'm ranking greed higher than pride, though, is because i'd definitely rather be rich than handsome. with money, you can hire people to tell you you're good looking. like prostitutes, lots and lots of them. but then you can never get your fill. greed is weird, because i feel like it's the basis for the rest of the sins at the top of the list. wanting more and more of something. i don't have as much greed in me as some of the other ones, so i guess maybe i'd like to have more of it? shit, there just isn't much to say about it. maybe that's why it's in the middle of the list, it's the humpday of sins. yeah, no one likes greedy folks, but everyone would love to have a wealthy friend. so this is one of those sins you can get away with, as long as you don't pair it with pride, or wrath. because then you'd be beating people with sacks of money. let's move on. 3. gluttony i almost ranked gluttony much lower, since i've had a complicated relationship with food. sure, it gives me nourishment, but also, that one time, i got hepatitis from church's chicken. then also, there's the time i smoked, early on, maybe my 3rd or 4th time, and i had sorta had sex with a pizza. now wait, hold up. let me rephrase that. no, let me just start the topic over, because i've had this in my head as a short stand-up comedy act. by a round of applause, how many of y'all here tonight have had sex with food? ok ok, hold on, i think we're all thinking of different things. some of y'all clapped and you're thinking of the classic strawberries being rubbed on your nipples or whatever. no, no, i'm not talking about that kind. nice work, though, keeping it classy. not like the other folks out there. i can see by your face that you're on the other side of the food sex spectrum. not that i'm judging, by all means, more power to you. but, no, i'm not talking about american pie, cut a hole in a melon, condom on a cucumber type of events. but again, you do you, friends. no, what i'm talking about is, have you ever eaten something so delicious that it gave you a boner? halfway through the brooklyn style dominos pizza, i realized that loud heavy breathing was coming from me, and my hips were involuntarily thrusting while i deepthroated the cheese and pepperoni. that's why gluttony got ranked this high. at this point, the sins are just fighting over order of preference. in our barest, most honest versions of heaven/paradise/nirvana, having all our favorite foods is basically near the top. there's only one thing that would stop me from a boner pizza. 2. lust yeah, i know, i figured this was an easy swish for the number one spot. but believe it or not, a lot of care went into this list. trying to figure out how to rank all these activities, I had to come up with criteria. and the first thing i thought of was, what gives me the most pleasure. then i subtracted out how bad i feel before, during, or after the acts. and lust only has the middle part as a high, and the rest not so much. but boy is that high super high. during the act, whether with a partner or solo, there's nothing better. flash a bag of money, a pizza,

pictures of myself, nothing will take me away from it. the problem is that it's too good. once it's over, what else is there? have a cigarette? drink a beer? what's going to bring you up to that same high? what else can compare? that's why whenever you find out someone abstains from drinking and drugs (which both fall under gluttony, i think. another reason it was ranked so high), they're usually addicted to sex or porn. like chris d'elia and all his pervy activities. it can fulfill your every desire. but after the eleven minutes (much love Paolo Coehlo) are done, what's left? if you're in love, then you bask in the love. if it was with a random, then you bask in the awkwardness. and if you were alone, then you bask in the shame. all that basking puts a filter on the goodness. then I also thought about the boner pizza, and the only thing that'd take me away from that pizza is some good ol' fashioned homespun luvin', but the only thing that'd take me away from that good ol' fashioned homespun luvin' is some even better activity. one that can not be replicated. 1. sloth taking a siesta. becoming the devil's plaything. tirando la hueva. i always get mad when folks say 'oh, i love the rainy weather!' because when i ask why anyone would like a gloomy day, they say 'oh because it's great weather to stay in and watch movies!' uh, you can do that shit on sunny days too. you're just looking to be lazy and need an excuse. just be lazy and be done with it. don't evoke mother nature to give yourself an excuse. like the covid overreactors. you know a lot of them acted terrified because they wanted a reason to not have to go to work. just fucking admit it! we get mad at others for what we hate in ourselves, which is how I know this one is a sin. I hate that my favorite all-time pastime is just shooting the shit, watching the world pass by. this is why sloth is number one. i'm a lazy fuck and i'm not ashamed. it's the sin that I most identify with and it's the one that has slowly been taking me down. at its own pace and leisure. well, I'm not 'not ashamed,' since i still get offended when someone other than myself calls me lazy. only our kind can use that word. call me unmotivated instead. that's the proper term. all the time i've spent trying to understand myself this is the one that i can't explain. it's been my dark passenger for as long as I could remember. i guess tv is my dealer. that's what keeps me the slothiest. but i also vegetate when i have something pending to do. or if there's a situation i don't want to deal with. like when lucy got mis-diagnosed and i thought she was dying, for days i couldn't do anything. the only thing i can accomplish when i fall into a slothhole is smoke the green. which makes the inactivity so much more exciting and fun. still though, you can't defeat it. it keeps you out of trouble, outside of the existential kind, and is completely free. you can partake at any moment, but it gives you the biggest rush when it's right before a major project is due. or even when it's a completely voluntary project that you use to self-impose deadlines that you then ignore, so you don't finish your 'seven deadly sins ranking' idea you came up with in april until mid-june, a week after you were going to send it. You know I have it right. Shit, I know you probably skipped down to look at number one because you were too lazy to read your way there. The best sins are the ones that feel the best and are secretly the worst. During lust, you can feel yourself going ape-like sometimes, and you feel like a fat fuck when you're devouring your third helping, but scratching your balls and watching TV while the world is on fire? That sin right there is a slice of heaven.