#also it does not seem Good that smokers keep telling me “that thing's worse” and that they refuse to even try quitting now :\

[nostalgia-tblr]

it annoys me so much that non-smokers* started vaping. fuck you, now everyone thinks i'm a hipster and i have to read dumb posts about how there's definitely lead and cyanide in the liquid.

i mean also it's not harm reduction for them so they probably shouldn't be risking it, but this too!!! not a hipster omg!!!!

*by which i mean they never smoked cigarettes. i forget the word for that. if there is one.

[sintreaties]

Can you do an analysis of Yumeko's character?

I can try, though as always keep in mind that I’m more of a creator than an analyst and I don’t believe my comprehension of these characters to be above anybody else's.

(cut cause long post)

For the longest time Yumeko was and still is one of the most enigmatic characters I’ve ever seen. We know nothing about her past and now that with the latest chapters her role in the story seems to be changing, the only thing we are sure about is her addiction now.

Yumeko, as the series name clearly states, is a gambling addict. Now, in a word being an addict means that a compulsive behavior takes over one's whole life. We can oversimplify it in two statements: 1) I can’t stop doing this 2) No one can stop me unless I truly want them to.

In a setting like Hyakkaou’s this is twice as dangerous. Not for Yumeko herself — Sayaka’s background check tells us she’s quite loaded in terms of money — but for the people around her. There's a pretty obvious duality to Yumeko's character: on one hand, we have the sweet, childish, almost naive Yumeko, who’s able to befriend even her worst opponents; on the other we have a “plague” who’s unable to keep herself under control and who would do anything to get what she wants, ruining whoever is in her path.

The contrast is interesting to see in scenes like the one in which she offers her tissue to Sayaka because she was crying, knowing that she hates her with all her guts vs the way she completely lost her facade when Yumemite refused to play seriously against Sumika, or when she pressured Itsuki into gambling her Life-Plan. This is simply another consequence of her addiction. Try to politely tell a smoker to quit smoking, see how they react. Amberlynn Reid, a youtuber who’s become a lol-cow during her failed weight-loss journey, suffers from BED (binge eating disorder) and when she can't keep her impulses in check, she calls that part of herself “the binge eating monster”, stating that it pushes her as far as to abuse her own partner if she doesn’t get to eat what and when she wants to.

Here’s the thing though: addicts usually want to stop. Most importantly when their behavior starts to take its toll on them. Although they’re often forced to ignore them, they do have feelings of shame and regret when they end up to do things that average people wouldn’t do (i.e. stealing to have more money for their dose). They know that what they’re doing is bad. They have constant reminders of it. Just like Amberlynn has the hate comments and smokers have the warnings on the packages, Yumeko finds her reminders in her own sister, who ended up in a mental institution precisely because of gambling, and in everyone at Hyakkaou, the main example being Sayaka (I speak about this a bit more here).

And yet, here’s the odd thing: Yumeko never really showed the desire to stop nor a hint of true remorse for anything she’s done. People are calling Kirari a sociopath and a narcissist only because she doesn’t show herself as the usual cute anime girl. Yumeko isn’t that better than her in these terms.

The whole premise of the KKG movie revolves around Suzui trying to convince Yumeko to join the Village, where gambling and money are banned, only for the latter to say, “No thanks. I have only two desires: better desserts at the cafeteria and watching Murasame gamble.” (Full on expression of her duality once again).

Because of gambling, her moral compass is sort of all over the place. She never wanted to liberate the House-Pets destroying the system, that’s Tsubomi who got the wrong idea. Yumeko was an anti-hero for a while, but only out of pure coincidence. Simply, her goal of taking the Student Council coincided with the wishes of whoever wanted to see the SC fall.

Clearly, this could be because Yumeko came at Hyakkaou with a specific goal in mind. At the Academy gambling is often your only mean of survival and it would be foolish to give it up. As Murasame says, “Kirari’s a monster and only another monster can defeat her, hurting everyone else in the same manner.”

That does fit Yumeko’s character, doesn’t it?

So why does Yumeko give up gambling altogether when Kirari refuses to play with her and calls her an ‘impurity’? It would make sense if she came here specifically to defeat Kirari. If she was certain that Ririka would win, that would prevent her from obtaining what she wants, throwing out of the window everything she’s done so far. This is the only possibility I can think of for now, so the next chapters will hopefully clear that up.

Now, Yumeko said that she won’t gamble, but if she’s truly an addict, no matter how stubborn and displeased she gets, she won’d be able to stop just like that. The addiction will either take over or find another mean to express itself, just like sometimes smokers turn to food when they try to quit and how people with BED can end up becoming addicted to shopping, resulting in hoarding behaviors. It’s all about that kick of dopamine.

Rest assured though, that as long as her addiction remains, Yumeko will never fully be able to be one of the good guys. Not like this, and not in a world in which adults can’t plan a fucking intervention. It makes sense for her to be holding the Election under her heel now and going on it could only get worse, with Yumeko hindering her own allies — if she ever had any.

Which brings us to a final point: the way Yumeko builds her relationships and why.

Her first connection at Hyakkaou is Suzui, who’s in so much debt that he’s considering dropping out. He’s a naive guy, too good for his own good. He’s easy to mold in Yumeko’s hands and that’s eaxctly what she does in more than a gamble (ESP, Zero Nym-Type). Is this also because of the “monster” inside of her, preying on the weak to take as much as it can? I don’t believe their friendship is completely “pure”, though I also don’t think Yumeko is harmful by nature. She might not even be fully conscious of this.

We have Saotome, who believed herself so sleek and ended up as a House Pet. Why would Yumeko befriend someone who tried to ruin her on her very first day? Did she see a powerful ally and a perfect opponent in order to seek the thrill of the risk, or is she really just that naive? Yumeko isn’t stupid. Intelligence also comes through emotional values. Again, I don’t believe her connection with Mary is devoid of secondary reasons, though just like in Suzui’s case, the latter come into play only when they hinder Yumeko’s gambling.

Tsubomi and Itsuki were practically shouldered and then used with the promise of obtaining something better for themselves. Sayaka? She called Yumeko a “plague” and yet Yumeko never really resented her. Sure she almost caused her death, but that was a collateral matter. Yumeko harbors no ill intent towards her, notwithstanding Sayaka’s hatred. Yumeko doesn’t show hate for Kiwatari either, and yet he never acted right around her.

Midari, on the other hand, deserved her indifference and dislike because she messed up their gamble and there’s nothing that Yumeko dislikes as much as a set result in her games. The two cases of Midari and Sayaka/Kiwatari are perfect to show the contrast between the kind of person Yumeko would be without her addiction and the kind of person she is now that her life is ruled by gambling.

What about Kirari then? In terms of risks, Kirari too showed a similar appetite. Perhaps Yumeko herself would like to see her own addiction consume her, just like she thinks Kirari would — thought I’m starting to believe the supernova talk was more about the clan than about herself. Maybe, just like Kirari with Ririka, Yumeko wants to fight the part of Kirari that resembles her the most and Kirari’s refusal proved that she had been very wrong in judging her character. Apparently Kirari “killed” her sister, but that’s Terano’s word, Yumeko never expresses herself on the matter.

In all these examples, the main thread is still the same. The gambling addiction has always been Yumeko’s core in the series and as of today it would be impossible to consider Yumeko’s character whole without it. People tend to forget its extent.

I do hope flashbacks and such will let us see how Yumeko was before she became a kakegurui, because in the end, addictions are only a part of who we are — unless we let them consume us.

I hope this answer was as satisfactory as it could be.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #371

“some of those that work forces are the same that burn crosses”

What is one song you feel as though you sing particularly well, if any? Probably none, lol. What was the last lengthy task you completed? I love these unique questions I've had lately, but damn, are a lot of my answers "I don't know," lol. What type of photography do you enjoy looking at? Do you take any photos yourself, and if so, what types of things do you prefer to photograph? I love floral and wildlife photography. Landscapes, too, and I have a great fondness for boudoir for reasons I've mentioned in previous surveys. I like taking nature pictures, mainly. Have you ever gone out for the Black Friday shopping rush? Did you enjoy it, or not so much? Or, what’s the busiest shopping day you’ve ever experienced? Hell no, that's a hard pass. I'm sure the busiest shopping experience I've had was like at the mall or something around Christmas, idk. Do you enjoy reading diaries or stories you wrote from when you were younger, or does it embarrass you? If you’ve kept them, was there a particular reason for hanging on to them so long? NO. I DON'T. BECAUSE I CRINGE INTO ANOTHER DIMENSION. I keep a lot of it for memory's sake, but goddamn, is it always embarrassing. What would you say was your first true hobby? What about your most recently developed one? Um... the first thing I really remember is video games. I played Spyro like, a LOT, along with other childhood games. I was just really into gaming at a young age. Is there one thing that throws off your mood more than others, whether it be lack of sleep, lack of food, heat/cold, etc., and when was the last time you felt especially cranky? THE HEAT. I become so irritable. I was needlessly cranky a few days ago for whatever reason. What kinds of things are you likely to complain about? My legs hurting, more than anything. Also being hot. Do you like to put any extra effort into your food in terms of presentation, or do you prefer to just put it on a plate and eat it as it is, no frills? Ha, no. It's not gonna look fancy in my stomach, so whatever. Have you ever dated someone who had kids? No, and I very much doubt I ever would. Are there any candles in the room with you? No. Does the last person you kissed have tattoos? No, but I tell her all the time that dainty nature tattoos would be THE most beautiful on her. When was the last time someone called you pretty? I think when I last updated my Facebook profile picture. Do you like the color pink? It's my favorite! Does your cell phone have a case on it? What color? It came with this thin purple one. What was the last song you had on repeat? "Moon Baby" by Godsmack. Ever kissed someone your parents hated? No. Your most recent ex says he/she hates you, you say? I wouldn't *say* anything, I'd break down sobbing. Would you feel hurt if your last ex was in a relationship? No. Have you ever had to choose between two people? Yes: Jason and Juan. Juan and I dated for less than a day not all that long before Jason and I got together, and Juan was pretty upset. He was nooot a fan of Jason due to a shared ex-girlfriend. Jason, meanwhile, just didn't care. What is the saddest thing that has happened to you? What about the happiest? I think the saddest thing has to be my breakup, especially when you know just how madly in love I was with him and had endless trust that he would never leave, and then he was gone in a flash one night. The happiest is, in turn, my recovery from said split. I found strength in myself and felt hope for once as I learned coping mechanics and got a psychiatrist that was worth a shit in my partial hospitalization program. What was the last new drink you discovered that was delicious? *shrug* Do you have a YouTube channel? Yes. I don't make videos anymore, though. Were you happy as a teenager? God no, my depression was awful. What do you do for your mom on Mother’s Day? Sigh. Not enough. I just tell her happy Mother's Day, give her a hug, and try to be an extra good daughter. Do you know anyone who follows a raw vegan diet and lifestyle? No. Can you go see a doctor alone or do you like to take someone with you? I can do it alone (but only have once), but I like to bring my mom with me still. Would you have sex with someone of the same gender as you? I'm bi, so. Have you ever had a concussion? One or two, I can't remember. How many dresses do you own? Zero. Do you know anyone who has a pet gecko? Yeah, my friend Summer has a darling leopard gecko. I want oneeeeee. They look so damn derpy and adorable, and their chill demeanor is something I really like in pets. Would you ever go bear hunting? No. Absolutely never. Do you prefer drawing or painting? Any particular reason why? Drawing, for sure. At least you can erase stuff, and paint is just so messy. Do you like raisins? NO THANKS MAN. Do you remember your locker combinations from high school? Nope. Do you forget to flip the page of your calendar at the start of each month? I don't have a calendar. Are you racist to any race? Nope. Have you ever intentionally hurt an animal? I've given cats and dogs a small pop on the rear, but nothing more than that. I hate doing even that, but with the language barrier and all, sometimes it's the only way to get your point across. Do you own any autographed memorabilia? No. Have you ever dated a twin? No. Oreos or Chips Ahoy? Oreos. Have you ever considered being a cop? Yeah, no thank you. What’s your favorite superhero movie? Maybe Logan. I thought it was very emotional and just overall a good movie. Name somebody you know who deserves a better life than they have: MY MOM. Name something that you’re good at but don’t like: uhhhhhhhh Name something that you’re bad at but DO like: Dancing, maybe. Which is worse: Stale chips or flat soda? Stale chips, for sure. It's certainly not my preference, but I can drink flat soda. Who’s the hottest guy and hottest girl out there? M-Mark Fischbach. :') Girl... let's seeeeee... maybe Alissa White-Gluz from Arch Enemy. GodDAMN what a WOMAN. ❤_❤ Do you ever trip over your pets? Yes, because he just looooves to follow me at my feet. What’s your relationship like with your exes? Aaron, Juan, Jason, and Tyler: nonexistent. Sara and Girt: great. What was the last thing you turned down doing? Going to my nephew's t-ball game. I always feel bad when I say no when Mom asks if I wanna go... but at least the kids know I just don't handle the heat well. Are you a party animal? Faaaaar from it, my friend. Who are you the biggest fan of? m-m-m-mMARKIPLIER You’re DJ for the night - first track to get everyone going? Uhhhh maybe "Party Hard" by Andrew W.K.? Have you ever been hit on by a pushy person? I think Juan was kinda pushy, but not to an uncomfortable degree. He respected what I felt. What accent do you find attractive? Most attractive, British. But I also really like Scottish and Irish. Also French accents in women I tend to find very beautiful-sounding. Have you ever had feelings for a friend's partner? Yes. What’s your favorite thing to do that doesn’t cost much? Drive around take pictures, maybe? Let's, uh, ignore the whole gas crisis in this answer. When in danger are you more fight or flight? Flight. Do you feel self conscious about a certain body part? *gestures to entire body* Have you been accused of being manipulative? Yes. Have you ever considered violence to solve your problem? No. Are you romantic? I personally think so. If you are a smoker, how long does a pack typically last you? If you aren’t a smoker, does anybody you are close to smoke, & if so, are you against the fact that they’re a smoker? I don't smoke. To answer the next part, yes, like my dad and stepmom. I wish they would stop so badly, like it's literally going to kill them both. Do you have more subscribers or more people that you are subscribed to? On YouTube? I'm definitely subscribed to waaay more people. Is there anything that has been drilled into your brain since you were young & you finally decided to stop listening to? How did it feel once you decided to listen to yourself over what you were told? Yes: "finish your plate." Teaching your kid to eat beyond their comfort can be very destructive, and I'm glad I never stuck to that once Mom stopped enforcing it. If you are currently in a relationship, what is one thing that seems to be unique or different about your relationship with this person, compared to other relationships in general? If you are currently single, is this more of a choice or is it more just the way things are going, not really something you chose? If you are neither “single” or officially in a relationship, what are your feelings on your current situation? I'm single, and it's just how it is. I know realistically I wouldn't tell what felt like the right person no, but it really is probably better that I stay single and keep figuring my shit out. Think of somebody famous that you have a lot of respect for. What is something that you really admire them for? To name just one thing I admire in Mark, his relentless "I'm going to do this no matter what" attitude is very inspirational to me. He lets like... n-o-t-h-i-n-g get in his way. If somebody were to leave a harsh comment on a survey you took, judging you on one of your opinions, how would you react? I'd get pretty self-conscious, just because I in general take judgment quite poorly. I obsess over "what if they're right, and you're just an idiot?". Are there any other sites you use to find surveys to take? What sites do you use? I mainly use Tumblr and LiveJournal, but in times of great desperation, I'll use Bzoink and just google surveys as well, haha. Have you sent or received any friend requests on Facebook lately? Not sent, but I got one from someone I had no mutual friends with the other day. Safe to say I declined it. Can you recall the last time you turned down an offer, of any kind? Uhhhhh no. Which fruit would you say you eat the most often? Apples. What was your pet’s last vet visit concerning? Roman has been to the vet once to get neutered (and I think shots?). I took Venus many years ago because I thought she had a respiratory infection. Thank god, she didn't. Which animals do you tend to go check out first at pet stores? The reptiles, snakes in particular. Have you ever been a victim of a house fire? No. What’s the longest you’ve ever had to wait before being seated at a restaurant? Like, over an hour. Have you ever had a cavity before? How about a root canal? A tooth pulled? Braces? Cavities and braces, yes. What is your favorite zoo animal that you would like to set free? Probably polar bears. Like especially here, it gets so hot in the summer, and the poor things sometimes only have a bit of snow in the shade. Like... they can't be very happy. Especially when you see those videos of them playing in snow, and then you think about situations like our zoo here... ugh. What kinds of artifacts fascinate you? I really think old figurines built with like clay and stuff are cool. But all artifacts I find to be very intriguing. It's so interesting to see that the desire to create has always been with us as a species. Is there anyone that you’ve visited in jail? No.

[arigatouiris]

head over heels // b.b — [03]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader [Female pronouns]

Warnings: swearing; angst [a lot of it]; mentions of drug abuse and explicit sexual references; mentions of anxiety, depressive thoughts, suicide, post-traumatic stress; fluff [in later chapters]

Follows events after Endgame, but Tony, Natasha, Steve, Loki are alive in this universe.

Word count: 2271

Author’s Note: I am so sorry for the late update~ However, I have been feeling a bit low about this story since I’m not sure if people like it. I shall update though, because it makes me happy. I’m also writing a story for Connor from the game Detroit: Become Human. And for those who would like that, do check out my masterlist! 

Those who want to be on the tag-list, do send me an ask~

03. secrets

✿

When Bucky arrived early that Sunday morning, he didn’t find a place to sit down. The cafe was crowded, and since it had been several days since he last came, he also wondered if (y/n) would feel bad that he had somewhat lied to her. He left last Sunday, and it had been an entire week since he had seen her last. He felt nervous, and as much as he wanted to ignore this feeling and wish that it didn’t exist, Bucky would only be lying to himself.

There was no need to lie to (y/n). Yet, he had. Because of the simple fact that Bucky was afraid of getting to know her. And worse, he was afraid of her getting to know him.

As soon as he stepped inside, and the door chimed, he noticed (y/n) handing over coffee after coffee to people standing in line. A soft smile sat on his lips as he noticed how happy she looked despite being so busy; the people standing in line were quietly chatting, understanding that (y/n) would come to them when she was done with the others. It was as if people who entered the BlueBells’ cafe turned patient even if they weren’t. It was lovely to watch.

For a moment, the atmosphere transported Bucky into the 1940s, just before the war, when things were pseudo peaceful. He looked around and saw men and women sitting by, talking idly on a Sunday morning, a nice barista taking their orders, and happiness floating all around without a worry in the world.

As he was lost in his reverie, he didn’t realize that the people ahead of him were moving quickly after grabbing their coffee. (y/n)’s eyes landed on him, yet, she stayed with a smile on her face, waiting for him. Luckily for Bucky, there was no one behind him. Looking to the far left of the cafe, she noticed a couple of girls finishing their coffee and sandwiches and were about to leave. Turning to Bucky, she waved her hand in front of his face and smiled pleasantly at him.

    “Hi, Bucky.”

Bucky’s face warmed at the sight of her, and he offered her a sheepish smile in return. He was ashamed to have come to face her again after having lied to her, but he was here now and there was no turning back.

    “Miss me, doll?”

    “Quite a bit. I’ve missed several art lessons because of you.”

Bucky chuckled before noticing her raise a hand to prevent him from ordering. He had planned on sitting down for a while and then leaving, but since the cafe was already too full, he was a bit bummed to be taking his coffee on the go.

    “The table on the far left is yours if you’re quick enough.” She winked at him, causing his eyes to widen at the revelation.

He instantaneously looked to the left and saw the empty yet messy table, the girls giggling and exiting the cafe after laying their eyes on him. Bucky remembered having this effect on the girls back in the 30s and 40s, but those days were gone. He heard a chuckle in front of him and noticed (y/n) grinning up at him.

    “They seem to have taken quite a liking to you.”

    “Nah, they see what they want to see.”

    “Or maybe you’re not seeing what they’re seeing.”

Bucky’s stomach flipped at her words and he frowned a bit for just a second. Taking a step back, he wondered why she hadn’t asked him about his days of absence. Wasn’t she curious? Turning to look at her, tilting her head at him in wonder, he got his answer.

No, she wasn’t curious. Just as she had never been before.

    “I’ll bring you your coffee, Bucky. Go take a seat.” She said kindly, and Bucky nodded, before walking over to the table to take a seat.

His hands were shaking and he felt the strong urge to light a cigarette, but he was certain that (y/n) was already aware of his coffee addiction. He didn’t want her finding out about another, for some strange reason, her validation seemed important to him. As long as she didn’t see him smoke, it was fine, because then Bucky could get away from wondering what she would think; coping with her disapproval of him.

He wasn’t even sure if she hated people who smoke, considering how she had a bunch of tables reserved for smokers outside the cafe. But, outside the cafe meant outside the room (y/n) was in for most of the day, and that fact caused Bucky to want to keep this a secret.

She came to clear the table just as he sat down. Bucky noticed she was humming a different song this time, a song that he did not recognize; and for just a moment, he wished that this would last for more than a few seconds. Bucky watched her from her side, in awe, at how she made the ordinary seem like it was so much more.

    “You…” She began, as she cleaned the table. She wasn’t meeting his gaze, and perhaps, there was a reason behind this as well. “I hope you were doing well these past few days.”

She knew she didn’t have to say that. She knew she didn’t have to tell him she cared and that she had noticed him not coming. Now, she had drawn a line that she could not erase, now there was no turning back. With one easy sentence, (y/n) had turned them into something more than acquaintances; yet, Bucky strove hard to keep it from becoming friends.

    “The usual, doll.” His voice was low and he now looked away from her, his heart pounding in his chest.

She sighed before nodding and getting back up, before leaving to get his coffee. For an instant, Bucky was afraid he was done something to screw this up; he quickly turned to see her gather the essentials needed for his coffee. He turned back to himself, his hands now resting on the table; he bent his head low and shut his eyes with regret. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing there.

    “Bucky.” Her voice instantly brought him back from the beginning of an anxiety attack, and her smile probably saved him.

She began to make him his coffee and Bucky couldn’t stop staring at her. It was as if life was being cruel to him by introducing her to him; by keeping her so close yet so far and unattainable. All Bucky wanted to do was to tell her how pretty she was and how much he loved her coffee and her silly drawings; Bucky just wanted to tell her he would like to take her out for dinner one day and how much he beat himself up for lying to her. He wanted to tell her all those things she didn’t know but he also knew she didn’t care about them as much as he wanted to.

She poured in the cream and began to draw on his cup. Bucky could feel his eyes fill with tears, as he knew that there was no way someone as gentle as (y/n) would ever be interested in a monster like him. There was no use waiting for a sign.

    “Does that look like a wolf?”

Bucky blinked a couple of times before meeting her gaze, which then directed him to his cup. He took a good long look before trying to identity what in that shape resembled a wolf. The time he took however, caused the woman to chuckle and break out into a small laugh.

    “You wound me, Buck.” She said sweetly, causing him to smile.

It was okay. Him not knowing her the way he wanted to. She was here, being nice to him, being kind to him, pouring his coffee and drawing silly things. She was doing all these things that he would never take away, and with this he was satisfied.

    “One of these days you might draw better.”

    “For that, I’ll need the practice. And what better canvas to practice on if not for Bucky’s cup?” She said, mischievously.

His eyes widened and he looked at her. And she did the one thing that almost took his breath away.

    “I like it when you come here, Buck.”

He had no idea how many walls and boundaries she was breaking by just saying that. He had no idea how much she was going to beat herself up for telling him those few words. Even though he was certain that she wouldn’t understand his plight, Bucky craved for this validation. A nameless validation that allowed him to feel again.

    “About l-last week—”

    “That’s okay. Bucky, everything is alright. I’m here. Always. With your coffee.”

She wasn’t supposed to do any of this. She wasn’t supposed to help him out, she wasn’t supposed to engage in more conversation than she had to. She wasn’t supposed to provide him anymore comfort than what a barista could. Yet, there was this aching need in her that wanted her to let him know he had a friend.

His eyes were screaming and for the entire week she hadn’t seen him, she knew that they had screamed more, and in silence. Just as her own, all those years ago.

Her heart ached, and her mind was torn; she knew that she wasn’t supposed to give Bucky hope, but not giving him hope would be hypocritical. She was him a long time ago, a storyless nobody in search for a quiet validation, and here he was, looking for the same. If she did not allow herself to help him now, she knew, that in her heart, she could never forgive herself.

And if Bucky didn’t want her kindness, he’d let her know. But, there was no way she could stop herself now.

✿

That evening, Bucky wanted to come by for the second time. However, from a distance, he noticed (y/n) was finishing up her shift and exiting BlueBells’ cafe. She was wearing regular clothes now, a dark blue tank top and blue jeans; not her cafe uniform. She had no smile on her, which was a bit eerie for him to see considering how she always had a smile on her face. However, he gave her the benefit of the doubt because there was no one around her.

If she smiled all the time, that’d be weird, he thought to himself. He wondered if he could go and say hello. He wondered if he could break that boundary by greeting her outside their assigned space.

Just when he thought not to, his eyes darted to a man following after (y/n). His eyes narrowed and he kept his pace, closely following behind the man who was tailing (y/n). A moment later, the man slammed the woman to the wall and screamed, words that confused Bucky, but angered him nonetheless.

    “Go back to where you came from, you freak!”

Bucky’s eyes were wide and it was outrageous as to how anyone could call (y/n) a freak. She was anything but that, and here was a man accusing her for the wrong thing.

Her eyes were wide, however she didn’t look terrified or even remotely scared. One of her hands went up to the man’s arms, holding it and was attempting to bring them off her. But before any words could be exchanged, Bucky intervened.

    “Get your hands off her, man.” Bucky warned, causing the man’s eyes to widen with fear.

    “You’re… You’re the Winter Soldier!”

Bucky hardened, and (y/n)’s gaze was on him now. He felt like he was on fire now, he felt like everything he had built now had gone. The man released (y/n), spat on the ground, and walked off, leaving just the two of them behind. Bucky immediately turned to leave, but a soft hand stopped him.

    “You didn’t have to step in, Bucky.” She sounded so earnest, it broke his heart.

He turned to her with a soft expression, and shook his head.

    “Couldn’t see that and not do anything.”

She smiled sadly at him and bit her lip, “Thank you. That was very kind of you.”

    “I won’t come by the cafe anymore, you won’t have to worry.” Bucky said, looking to the ground.

    “Oh, Bucky,” (y/n) answered, stepping near him, her hand still on his. She was holding his wrist with both hands now, preventing him from walking away. “Why not?”

He let out a dry chuckle before saying, “Wouldn’t want the Winter Soldier coming in.”

    “And why do you think that?”

He wasn’t aware how rapidly her heart was beating. She wasn’t aware of his.

    “I’m… I’ve got secrets, doll.”

She turned him around and now held both his wrists with both her hands. She smiled up at him, and this was the closest she had been to Bucky, especially it being the first time for them meeting outside the cafe. When she smiled at him, as she held his hands, he felt breathless.

    “I’ve got secrets too.” She said, blinking up at him slowly.

Bucky immediately thought of how her secrets were nothing compared to his, but he did understand that there were things she couldn’t tell him just as he had things he couldn’t tell her. With this knowledge, Bucky knew there was some room for camaraderie.

I’m a monster, though, both of them thought, right after opening their hearts just a little.

✿

series taglist:

@miamua-posts  @yourwonderbelle @kissingg-incars @tanya-diggory @s-0-ldat @iheartsebastianstan @taliarosej00 @coraz0ndcristal @vlogsquadbss @azriels-forgotten-shadow @gogoca @undiadeestos @justtrynagetthroughlife 

[eldritchsurveys]

637.

Do you ever judge people based on if they believe in God or not? >> You know, it’s funny -- I’m more likely to make snap judgements about atheists than Christians. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve met my fair share of annoying proselytisers and hateful fundamentalists, have had “exorcisms” performed on me, the whole nine. I am definitely wary of Christianity as an institution, with good reason. But I’m really tired of the superiority complex that atheism seems to encourage (again, just like with Christians, not all atheists are like this -- but enough are). The fact that I dare to interpret my life and my reality in a non-materialist, often-arcane fashion immediately puts me at odds with a lot of atheists because their first thought about anything other than strict materialism is “only idiots believe that”, and I’m not going to let some other equally-in-the-dark human being treat me like an idiot because of something this personal (and this arbitrary!). Somehow, Christians telling me I’m going to hell because I listen to death metal or masturbate or whatever is less deeply irritating to me than that.

Do you ever brush your teeth in the shower? >> No. I can see why you would, though.

Has your printer ever stopped working at the last minute and you had a paper due the next day? What did you do? >> ---

Are you sometimes scared to express your opinions in fear of what others might think? >> It’s more like... I don’t feel like dealing with other people’s baggage, you know? Their inflexibility of mind, or baked-in prejudices, or superiority/inferiority complexes, or whatever. It’s really not worth it all the time. I could be putting my energy to better use than fielding off other people’s contempt. So I wouldn’t say my reticence is fear-based as much as it’s... boredom-based. lmao

Do you have a girl that is strictly a friend that isn’t related to you that you can go to? >> Yawn.

Have you ever painted your nails on only one hand, forgetting about the other one or getting side-tracked? >> No.

Have you ever tried sucrets? >> I don’t think so.

Would you date someone that smokes? >> I don’t date, but in general being a smoker isn’t something that puts me off a person. Being rude about smoking and not accepting that not everyone wants to breathe in their secondhand cancer air would, though. And if you smoke cigars, no thanks. Cigarette smoke is bad enough but cigar smoke is twice as bad.

What about drinks? >> Again, it’s not the act of drinking that puts me off a person, it’s to what extent their drinking affects their life and the lives of those around them.

Have you ever gone to one of those parties where everyone is falling around drunk everywhere? >> I don’t think so. I mean, maybe one or two people depending on their tolerance? But not the whole damn party.

Are you “the good guy”, or “the bad guy”, or somewhere in between? >> Yes.

Do you ever erase the numbers off of surveys just because they annoy you? >> No, the reason numbers tend to disappear off surveys when I take them is because when I paste the survey into this text box, tumblr automatically formats it like a numbered list, and when I unformat it the numbers go with it.

Person you like shows up at your house: you … >> ---

Last person you talked on the phone with? >> ---

Do you think you will have the same best friend a year from now? >> ---

Do you have siblings over the age of twenty-one? >> No.

Will tomorrow be better than today? >> I mean, today’s going to be pretty good. I’m going to play video games for hours to make up for the fact that I couldn’t all weekend.

What do you hear right now? >> Nothing.

What was the last thing to go into your mouth? >> Water, I think.

Do you usually tell people when you’re mad at them? >> I operate under the assumption that most people won’t care whether I’m upset with them or not, so I don’t bother informing them. That might be a maladaptive way of thinking, but so far I haven’t had much cause to question the notion, either.

Honestly, how is your heart lately? >> Beating.

Do you miss anyone? >> No.

Are you waiting for a phone call? >> No.

If an ex said they hated you, what would you say? >> I wouldn’t say anything. That’s their business, not mine.

What would you do if you found out your most recent ex was in a relationship? >> Hope that that person doesn’t go through what I went through. And if they do, hope that they have the presence of mind to leave sooner rather than later.

What do you think when someone kisses you on your forehead? >> First of all, who is doing that...

What do you usually do right when you wake up? >> Look at my phone to see what time it is.

Are you looking forward to anything? >> Yeah, playing WoW.

How late did you stay up last night? >> I got home at around a quarter past eleven, so I think I got to sleep shortly after midnight.

Do you truly hate anyone? >> No.

Would you ever get a tattoo? >> Of course.

In the past forty-eight hours, have you hung out with a girl? >> I hung out with a lot of people on Sunday.

Were you happy when you woke up today? >> Yes, very happy to be back in my warm comfortable bed and not in that janky loud motel.

If someone liked you, would you want them to tell you? >> I mean, it’s not going to change anything on my end, but I wouldn’t act weird about it if someone told me.

Would you rather go back a week or go forward? >> ---

Would you ever smile at a stranger? >> I’ve done so.

Who was the last person to text you? >> Sparrow.

What are you doing today? >> Playing video games, vegging out. Just enjoying being home.

Truthfully, is there someone you used to date that you miss? >> Not right now.

Have you ever gotten burnt by a cigarette? >> Yeah, on purpose.

Have you ever been so bored that you started drooling on yourself? >> What...

Do you brush your teeth right away when you wake up? >> Not right away, but soon enough after.

Do you have someone of the opposite sex you can tell everything to? >> ---

Want to get smashed tonight? >> Nah, I’m good.

What time are you getting up tomorrow? >> I don’t know, whatever time I wake up.

Are you happy with the choices you’ve made? >> Like, throughout my entire life? Some were fine, some were mistakes, some don’t even register in my memory anymore.

Think back to last June; were you single? >> No.

Have you ever made someone laugh when they were crying? >> Probably. That’s my only method of consolation -- distraction.

Describe how you feel right now. >> Neutral.

Would you date someone three years older than you? >> ---

Do you prefer to shower at night or in the morning? >> In the morning.

Do you think more about the past, present, or future? >> The present.

Are you okay with the life you live? >> Sure.

Could you handle living with the last person you texted? >> I do live with the last person I texted.

Was the last book you read for fun, or was it for some type of assignment? >> Everything I read is purely for my own interest/delight.

Have you accomplished any goals you set for yourself this year so far? >> The only “goal” I ever set is that Goodreads reading challenge, lmao. But even that’s just for fun -- if I don’t read 50 books in a year, it’s not like I consider myself a failure or something. Quantity doesn’t even mean anything. It’s just something to keep track of, I guess. (Also, when I do those end-of-year book surveys, it’s easier to just go look at my challenge because then I can see at a glance what books I read that year.)

If you could go forward in time and see your life 5 years from now, what would you hope to see? >> ---

Are there still movie rental stores where you live or have they all gone out of business? >> There’s one down the road from me, like a 10-minute walk. Family Video just refuses to go down without a fight, I guess. They jumped on the CBD bandwagon really fast, too -- revenue is revenue, I guess, lmao.

What was the last thing to annoy you or make you upset? >> When I realised I’d left my laptop and phone chargers in the motel room. *facepalm* Thank god for Amazon one-day shipping.

Do you think you would be a good match for your celebrity crush/es assuming you have one? Why? If you don’t have one, who was the last person you saw that you found attractive? >> There were a lot of attractive people at Elle’s wedding.

When looking for something to watch on TV do you tend to pick shows you know you like, or try new shows that look interesting even though you’ve never heard of them before? >> Either. Just depends on what I’m in the mood for.

Have you ever been ditched by someone only to find them out and about with someone else? >> No.

How old were you when you had your wisdom teeth removed? >> ---

What is the last song you sang out loud? >> I don’t remember.

Where was the last job application you filled out sent to? >> ---

Have you ever been fired from a job? >> No.

What do people tell you your voice sounds like? >> I don’t recall the last time anyone commented on my voice at all.

What financial class are you? >> Poverty class.

What poster is hanging closest to you? >> It’s not a poster, it’s an art print. It’s called “Heimdall” and that’s basically what it is, I guess. But very, very intricate and multilayered. One of those “stare at it for five hours and still see new things” kind of artwork.

What time did you go to bed last night? >> Sometime after midnight.

Do you watch any reality shows? >> Not regularly.

Are you more comfortable with men or women? >> ---

Do you think you’re fat? >> Sometimes I do. It’s all just societal bullshit, though, because I’m technically not fat (and it really shouldn’t even be a big deal if I was).

Have you ever borrowed money from someone and never repaid them? >> Probably.

Do you have a pet cat? >> Yeah.

What is worse: physical or emotional pain? >> I’m not going to rank one as “worse” than the other. Pain is pain.

If you had to get up at 6 AM tomorrow morning, would it be painful? >> Probably. It’s not my normal getting-up time.

How is your hair? >> Fine.

Who was the last person who called you? >> ---

How long does it take you to fall asleep at night? >> Not long, because I don’t go to bed until I feel good and sleepy.

How many people have you had strong feelings for in the year of 2012? >> You know what I had strong feelings for in 2012? Drugs.

What are you doing for your next birthday? >> I have no idea. Probably going to Chicago like usual, although the idea of going to Canada is still on the table if we can get passports by that time.

Would you go on a date with someone right now if they asked? >> Not unless it was explicitly understood that I am aromantic and this is a platonic outing.

Do you believe that if you want something bad enough, you’ll get it? >> Sometimes that narrative is fun to entertain.

Last movie you watched? >> The Nightingale.

Who were you with? >> Nobody.

Who came over last? >> ---

Have you ever wanted to be a ballet dancer? >> No.

Does your family keep tons of leftovers in the fridge? >> I do not.

Favourite FRIENDS character? That is, if you like it. >> ---

Skullcandy headphones, yay or nay? >> Yeah, I like them.

Are you thinking of getting another piercing? Where? >> No.

Do you love when people remember little things about you? >> Sure, it means people actually paid attention to me and cared enough to remember, which goes against some of my less helpful self-talk.

Do you ‘bless’ strangers when they sneeze? >> No.

How many phones have you gone through? >> Too many.

Have you always lived in the house you currently reside in? >> No.

Do you think your future will be a good one? >> ---

[mirainawen]

Little!Adam + Kevin, "We must make more cookies before they come back and find the jar empty!" "No, you just want to eat more." A pout. "Well, I guess we could make more and then leave them one each." "Sounds fair to me. Besides if they asks, I'm telling them you ate them all." "Hey, I thought we were a team. And besides, they'd never believe you, especially with that chocolate all over your face."

So…a million years later…I slowly begin to write again…

What do you call an overwrought prophet and a de-aged half-Winchester? The beginning of a terrible, cosmic joke

He’s certainly seen weirder things, Kevin thinks one surreal Saturday morning in early May. Just…maybe none quite so strange as the one that sat across from him that morning. He wasn’t even supposed to be here and somehow Sam and Dean did what Winchesters do best in his life: railroad it. Dean’d, of course, gotten the last word, slamming the bunker door shut tight as he and Sam headed out, and the silence had hung heavy and bitter over the whole place.

Kevin’s less than thrilled, and had been all night. Sleeping on it hadn’t taken much of the sting out of it, though ‘sleep’ was used loosely. As for the only other occupant, well, nothing had ever seemed to sit well with him in the first place, and now? Now, he didn’t have a clue what to do with the motion-sensitive bomb turned-

“What?” Adam suddenly grumps, staring in disgruntlement at the box of Lucky Charms in his small fingers.

-turned five-year-old.

And wasn’t that the most bizarre thing of all? Nothing he’d seen since the Winchester Intrusion had prepared him for this, and apparently Sam and Dean were just as stumped despite all their years in the business.

Kevin realizes he’s probably supposed to answer, so he manages tightly, “What?” He’s honestly not sure he really wants to approach whatever’s under Adam’s skin this morning with a ten-foot surgical knife. He’d witnessed some impressive fits of temper in his occasional visits the past year of “sabbatical.” Sabbatical? Was that even a thing in the hunter’s world? Or…Men of Letters? Whichever.

“Deh-coder’s gone.” Adam explains, shaking the cereal box to produce a rustle that drops an uncertain prick into Kevin’s stomach. It was half gone at the very least, and hadn’t they opened that box last night? (An uneasy dinner that was still…uneasy.)

Damn, but how much had the kid had already? And how long had he been up before Kevin had stumbled for the coffee pot? Adam hadn’t said a word, barely seemed to acknowledge him, and honestly…that, at the very least, had seemed about accurate for what he’d seen of Adam the past year. But, unfortunately, it had also meant that in his previous fog he had approached the situation with the same manner he’d treated it since Adam first arrived: Adam had alternated quietly disdainful and loudly argumentative, and he wasn’t on Kevin’s radar as long as Kevin wasn’t on Adam’s. And he usually wasn’t unless it was for a disdainful sneer.

But Dean had warned last night to keep a close eye on the de-aged kid, hadn’t he? Sam had seemed a little more lax, just shrugging with an assurance that Adam was fine most of the time. So…what had they gotten him into? Sugar-crazed kids were not his idea of a good time. How had he been tagged into baby-sitting duty? The half-Winchester was a Sam and Dean problem (case, point, name), and he had enough of his own as a stressed out, wanted prophet on the run from a tireless destiny. He was an unfortunate plaything of an indifferent and infuriating fate. Sam and Dean should be the ones giving him a break, not making things worse.

Winchesters bred extra bizarre at an alarming rate, and he wished they’d leave him out of it.

Adam sighs heavily, and Kevin careens abruptly back into the present with a blink. “Hello, prophet-man? What happened to it?”

“Uh…” Kevin scrambles, staring at the sleep-tousled five-year-old in one of Sam’s or Dean’s shirts. The kid stares back pointedly. What were they…?

Adam snorts. “Sam and Dean said you were sooooo smart.”

Taken aback, he realizes Adam had been looking to him for answers. But, “They do?” pops out before he can think about it, surprised.

Adam sighs again, this time heavier and more annoyed. The box thunks softly on the table before he pushes it away. “Yeah,” he grouches, “but they’re kinda stupid so whatever.” He’s glaring down at the bowl with…wait…Kevin blinks, peering closer. Was the kid pouting?

Suddenly he realizes just what he’d started to think the night before: if he ignored the fact that he’d been informed upon his arrival that this tyke was Adam Milligan, half-Winchester, angelic body bag and the stubborn little shit giving Sam and Dean all kinds of grief the past year, he could easily believe that the irritated five-year-old Dean had gotten into a shouting match with at bedtime was actually a next-generation Winchester kid, product of a busted condom and one of Dean’s conquests or something. Adam could rival Dean on his best day even before the kid had been de-aged.

He shakes himself from this ridiculous train of thought before it derails entirely. Pouting though he may be, there’s still plenty of room for the animosity Adam never seems short on.

“Of course,” he snarks in return. But…well, he agrees with the disgruntlement Adam feels, if not the outright sentiment. Plus, he has no desire to set the kid off: Adam had proved he could throw quite the meltdown over the fury and hatred he harbored towards his brothers, and Kevin knows it’s still in that frame, even if it was much smaller now; Adam’s animosity was a lot like cigarette smoke: lingering long after the smoker is gone. No need poking a sleeping grizzly. Last night had proven that.

Adam’s eyes flick to his face, a cutting look that pours ice through Kevin’s veins; he’s seen it a dozen times before, even if the face forming the expression is softer and younger. Shit, what had he said?

Worry over a tantrum vanishes as Adam smiles. “Maybe you’re not stupid.” He grants benevolently, and Kevin thinks sarcastically how nice it is to be let off by a five-year-old. He does not mention that this grant insinuates that Sam and Dean might actually be smart enough to know what they’re talking about then. Adam’s not going to give ground on his brothers, and honestly, Kevin would be shocked if he ever did.

“Now,” Adam pauses, stretching a little before settling deeper into his chair, Lucky Charms softening in whole milk. “The deh-coder is gone.”

“Maybe Dean took it.” He snarks, shrugging around his coffee. He’s not had nearly enough.

Electric blue eyes narrow, something tightening along Adam’s jaw. “Dick.”

Kevin’s brows shoot toward the roof and the coffee stings at the back of his throat as he narrowly avoids choking. Had to be Dean’s influence. Had to.

Well imagining the bitchiness on Sam’s face every time Dean did what Dean did best (and that is, be himself) in front of the kid, he stifles a chuckle at the image.

Adam seems relatively satisfied with Kevin’s answer because he shoots forward and digs into his bowl with all the put-out gusto the kid was known for, twenty-something or five irrelevant. Two charms slide stickily down the outside of the bowl and a splash of milk pulls three pieces of grain with it. Kevin’s suddenly standing in his mom’s kitchen five years previous with his cousins in the process of destroying it and he was in charge.

“Don’t make a mess,” he grumps sharply into his mug, swallowing the horror he feels at having to babysit again.

Adam smacks his lips. “No,” and there it is, the contrary brat is back full force. So much for appeasing the kid with snarks about his brothers.

How had he gotten roped into this?

*

It’d been an hour and death cannot come fast enough for Kevin. Honestly, when would he be released from this mortal coil? He hated his life, hated it ever since the incident, see, and having powers sucked, and he never asked for any of this. He’s going to kill Sam and Dean slowly and painfully with some trick he’s learned from that angelic tablet, he swears it, while Adam “don’t call me Winchester” Milligan takes a long hike off a short pier.

The kid was a nightmare on steroids with an unhealthy side of late night haunting, and Kevin’s going to lose his goddamned mind again. That would make the third time this year, but honestly who’s counting? (He is. He’s counting. He hates it.)

“Adam!” He snaps for the fifth time in as many seconds. Adam wasn’t listening.

“I’m busy, prophet-man!” Adam snaps, launching himself to the other side of the couch. The kool-aid Kevin most certainly did not get him sloshes dangerously close to the brim of the cup in Adam’s hand. “You’re inner-uping!” Adam starts his count over, hop, hop-

“No, get off the couch with that!” Kevin snatches for Adam’s arm, which is stupid, stupid, on his part; first, that kool-aid’s definitely going overboard; second, Adam’s…Adam’s never taken well to his personal space being invaded. He’s seen Dean make that mistake a few too many times.

He catches air instead as Adam whips to the side to avoid him, overbalances, and there goes the kool-aid down Kevin’s front (not the couch, he thinks thankfully, but still irritated). Adam kicks the cushion, pushing into the back of the couch with a growl.

He kicks his leg out. “Now I have to start again,” he grouches.

“Not with that,” Kevin snatches the now-empty cup.

“Hey!” Adam snaps. “That’s mine!”

“Well it shouldn’t be,” Kevin’s grouching as he wipes the bright red liquid off his face. Now he needs a shower…he shudders to think what would happen if Adam was left unsupervised even for a military one. “I didn’t say you could have kool-aid.” It just pops out, and Kevin shudders harder at suddenly turning into a disgruntled authority figure. Why should he care if the kid has too much sugar?

He remembers Sam’s disheveled appearance at the bunker door last night as if he hadn’t slept in an age, and remembers why.

Sleep was about the only pleasure Kevin had left to him. With few nightmares, courtesy of a mental block Cas had given him. He didn’t dream much, but it was better than being on pills, he supposed. 

“Yeah, well, you’re not Dean.” Adam grumps, and Kevin snorts.

Yeah, thank God. He got to check out as soon as either Winchester returned. Why hadn’t they just called Garth if they needed to check a lead? This seemed way more like a Garth gig than a prophet’s duty.

Kevin’s stomach sinks through the floor, though, as he abruptly realizes he’d said Yeah, thank God out loud when Adam’s face darkens.

“Yeah, well I didn’t say I wanted you here.” Adam shoots back.

“No.” Kevin admits. Avoid the tantrum, is all he’s thinking. Don’t set the kid off. Adam’s fine most of the time, Sam had assured, and so that had to mean that Sam had tricks that Dean didn’t; channel Sam. Keep the peace. “And I didn’t say I wanted to be here, either, kid. Guess neither of us got much say in this.”

Adam’s scowl grows darker. “Don’t call me a kid. I’m not a kid.”

Yes, he’d heard that quite a bit last night during that shouting match. A glance or two at Sam’s pointed look at the far wall had confirmed Kevin’s growing theory: it wasn’t a new argument, and no doubt he’d been hearing it in various forms for far longer than a couple weeks. Say, a year?

“Fine. Just remember, dude, this is your brothers’ doing.” As much as Adam didn’t need much prodding to light that anger he harbored toward them, blaming absent parties seemed the easiest way to diffuse his disgruntlement toward him. The last thing Kevin wanted to deal with was Adam’s temper.

Adam groans, long, hard, angry. “Uggggghh, I KNOW.” He throws himself off the couch. “They don’t like me!”

That’s unexpected, but, well…not surprising. You’ve been a huge pain in the ass since you got back, kid is not going to go over well, even if he substituted ‘Adam’ for ‘kid’. But maybe that was the problem, Kevin thinks abruptly. He is a kid, at least now - and what kid wanted to feel like his own family didn’t like him? Sam had hinted the night before that Adam’s…consciousness seemed to come in and out: in moments he seemed more his old self, but those moments were fewer and farther between. This Adam was young and ruled by emotions he didn’t understand. At least the adult probably did.

Adam pauses and whips back around on Kevin, glaring up at him. “You don’t like me,” he accuses, and Kevin’s brows bounce toward the ceiling.

“You’re not particularly likeable.” He shoots back before he can think.

Adam’s eyes narrow. “You’re not either! You’re AH…noying.”

“You know, I think you said the same thing about Dean last night. Sammy too?” he goads.

“You can’t call him Sammy.” Adam’s voice has turned to venom, and for a moment, Kevin thinks he probably should have quit while he was ahead. He doesn’t know what he’s falling head first into.

“You know something, Adam, I think you think everyone’s annoying because you don’t like anyone.”

Adam’s lips thin into a scrunched, wet line. There’s a kool-aid stain rimming the sides of his mouth, at glaring odds with the fury radiating off his impossibly tiny frame. “Maybe,” he challenges, “I hate everyone cause everyone hated me first.”

That gives Kevin pause, stilling the world for a moment. He can see how Dean so easily gets pulled into arguing with him. There’s something about Adam that dares people to challenge him, something about his absolute certainty in anything he says that demands a retort. No wonder Dean can’t leave it be. And Kevin…well, Kevin’s not really sure why he let himself get drawn in. Channel Sam.

“Nobody…nobody hates you.” His incredulity takes centre stage first. He wouldn’t say that Sam and Dean loved Adam, and feeling obligated is a far cry from caring, but…hate was a strong word. And felt vile coming from a child about his own family. He knows, logically, it’s not a child saying it and blood doesn’t automatically mean family, he’d learned that lesson the hard way a few times over, but something in Kevin wants to reach out regardless.

Saving people. He wasn’t quite to the whole hunting things stage, but maybe he’d always been in the business of salvation. He’d never had faith in a great many things, and even less the past few years, but there were many different forms of salvation. Everyone starts with a soft heart, his mother used to say. Nobody was born angry or hard.

It’s easier not to care. He knows that. But he’d had a few arguments with certain Winchesters about it for good reason. Damn, but he missed his mom unbelievably, all the time.

Adam’s staring resolutely across the room, brow puckered and lower lip matching, but…but it’s not trembling, thank- whatever. (He hasn’t decided.)

“Hey,” he says softly, reaching out to gently put a hand on a bony shoulder. Adam turns to look at him, electric blue eyes cold and lined in red, light bruising across the bridge of his nose from some accident; those eyes seem somehow ancient and dead and lost all at the same time, and the room goes cold to Kevin. “Sam’s very fond of you.”

“Sam left me.” Adam answers in a dull tone that strikes a funny feeling in Kevin’s gut.

Sam left me… Kevin stares into those eyes, but even he doesn’t know what he’s searching for. Answers, maybe. Guidance, oddly enough: a way to help. Kevin feels it pulsing beneath his skin, an alien power to save save save, and-

“It was cold.” Adam offers softly, head tilting slightly. One shoulder rose and fell. “And hot. It was so bright. Always. All the time. And dark. So dark and quiet.” He raised one finger to his lips. “Shh, Sam.” The hand fell in mid-air, the other raising to join its counterpart inches apart with palms curled upward as though he held something in them. “I…” he shudders a breath, and Kevin doesn’t quite know why but he shudders too, a freezing tingle up his spine that needs someplace to escape.

Adam’s eyes flick to Kevin’s again. “Don’t wake up.” He says.

Kevin’s brow furrows, until his mind echoes the shuddery breath, I…don’t wake up. The floor disappears out from under him.

Adam abruptly pushes his hand off his shoulder and steps back. “Only you here, prophet-man.” He says, smiling with something so acrid it, too, is vile on the face of a child.  “They left.”

They left you? Kevin thinks, but can’t speak. Doesn’t even know that he should. He doesn’t know enough, he doesn’t know anything. And what had- what had he felt, prickling along the edges of Adam’s skin, thrumming against his hand? It hadn’t felt…it had been alien. It had felt…no, he doesn’t want to think it. But it reminds him of holding the tablet and he doesn’t know enough.

He takes a second, sits down properly on the floor and stares at Adam. The kid hasn’t stormed off, so maybe there was talking to him.

“You’re mad Sam and Dean left last night, aren’t you?”

Adam’s brow lifts, which is unexpected for a five-year-old. “I don’t care.” He says stiffly, making as though to turn away, but he wavers. He glances sidelong at Kevin with an uncertainty that keeps Kevin’s gears turning wildly. There’s less of that bizarre dead look in his eyes and more of the angry kid he’s been seeing the past some-odd hours. Less chill.

“I think you do.” He says.

“I think you’re mad.” Adam shoots back, squinting at Kevin. “You don’t wanna be here.”

“No, I didn’t.” Kevin admits.

Adam nods. “Then you don’t have to pretend to care about me. I can take care of myself.” He snatches the empty cup from the coffee table. “This is my cup,” he says plainly, and it’s so absurdly young and childlike that Kevin wonders what had been going through his head a moment ago. Kid had some serious nightmares. Nothing angelic about it, barring their source.

“Um, sorry, but no more kool-aid for you.” Kevin gestures pointedly at himself, feels the sticky pull where the drink had dried on his skin, especially his face.

Adam looks at him like he’s plainly stupid. “If you weren’t here, where would you be?” he asks unexpectedly, and Kevin blinks.

“Oh, um…uh…Probably Colorado.” Garth had set him up pretty solidly out in the national forest. It was no veritable fortress like the Men of Letters bunker the Winchesters had inherited, but a cabin in the woods on the river was remote enough to give him some peace of mind. Cas had put some security measures in place, and Kevin had since reinforced them with further tricks he’d translated from the tablet.

Adam nods, turning away. “Then I think you should go back there, prophet-man.” The voice is deceptively light and...sweet.

Kevin blinks. “Yeah, nice try. Your brothers would kill me.”

“No,” Adam executes a turn on his heel. “They like you.” And the way Adam juts out his chin hints at bitterness.

Kevin sighs. “I’m afraid they’d still kill me, Adam. You’re like 2 feet tall and five. Not exactly old enough to be left alone.”

Adam folds his arms. The cup wavers against his side, tilting back and forth as his mind turns. “You sound like Dean,” he finally passes judgement.

“Well, sometimes Dean has like a little bit of sense.” He pinches his fingers close together to illustrate, hoping to draw the kid out.

Adam plucks his empty hand from the crook of his elbow, splaying his fingers as he stares down at them. “I’ve saved them a few times, you know,” he says loftily, and Kevin suddenly wonders if maybe he hasn’t been talking to the kid at all the past few minutes. His consciousness seems to slide back and forth between... Sam’s uncertain voice tapers off.

He doesn’t know what to do, but he finds himself reaching out. Adam’s just at arms’ length and Kevin leans in, closing his fingers around the tiny fist; the fingers are soft and malleable, bending beneath Kevin’s. Adam slowly raises his eyes, but they don’t hold the same look they did earlier: distant, sure, but not a deadly maelstrom like before. Kevin can’t put his finger on this one.

Why had he never had a single conversation with the adult? Adam’s just as lost and angry and terrified as the rest of them, and Kevin thinks they might have been friends.

“What happened?” he asks softly, and something jerks through Adam’s frame.

He tugs on his hand. “It was sup-POSed to be okay. He said…he said…”

“Who said?” he asks gently. There’s that feeling again, of touching the tablet; it wiggles beneath the skin of Adam’s fingers, but it's softer now, not quite as volatile.

Adam looks down, and that feeling passes. It’s a five-year-old hanging his head before Kevin, eyes shut, letting out a breath to his bare feet. “I think...I think I did something bad.” He says softly. “Is that...is that why Sam and Dean are mad at me all the time?” And if there’d been any doubt a moment before, it’s certain now: that’s all child staring back at Kevin, frightened and sad and desolate.

“No,” he finds himself shaking his head, because salvation is first and foremost for lost children, isn’t it? Nobody is born with a hard heart, Kev. Anger is where hurt still touches a tender place. “They were born grumpy.” He pokes at Adam’s stomach, because, well, okay, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Adam doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t flinch either.

Kevin stifles a sigh. What did one do for kids who used to be adults who’d been eaten alive, resurrected, thrown into a demonic, eternal cage with the devil himself, then rescued and brought back to the very people who’d only tolerated your existence the first (second?) time and who saw you as an obligation? Dean’s guilt could fill stadiums, but it couldn’t build a damned thing. 

Not that he knows much better, either. None of this was exactly covered anywhere in his past life and there was nothing at all of help in that tablet. 

“Sam’s not grumpy ‘less I wake him.” Adam finally says, softly but like he wants to contribute.

“No,” Kevin agrees, forcing a small smile to tick at his mouth. “You really gotta get on Sam’s nerves, don’t you?”

“And I do.” Adam is speaking to his toes again, and Kevin frowns.

“Somehow, I doubt that.” Kevin lies, rolling his eyes.

Adam’s frown deepens even as it turns on the prophet. “You don’t lie good.”

Well. He stifles a sigh.

“Nobody gets on Sam’s nerves like Dean, even you. Don’t argue with me, I have more experience than you.”

Adam folds his arms. “Yeah, and whose fault is that?”

“Not mine or yours.” Kevin shoots back as he pushes to his feet. “Now, uh...I think dysfunctional family-” Adam cocks his head like he’s puzzled “-means we should have milk and cookies.” Mom always made milk and cookies after a bad day: bad grades, rejection, bullies- you name it. Kevin feels a bit wistful even thinking about carrying on the tradition, but at the same time: it feels...good.

Adam, of course, careens full force into five-year-old and lights up like it's Christmas. “Yes!” He shoots from the room like a rocket, and Kevin startles.

“Hey! Wait!” And chases after the kid.

*

Adam’s feet are swinging freely in the air as he maws through a cookie the size of Kevin’s fist, reheated just enough in the microwave that they were soft and gooey. Crumbs decorate his lap, the floor, and even the counter on his left like incriminating evidence. His face fares little better, but he’s clearly feeling better. Kevin thinks he can forget all about the chill that had crept up his spine and that tugging sense of urgency to fix. Vivid imagination, right?

“You know,” he says, leaning on the end of the counter. Adam doesn’t turn his head, but his eyes cut his direction. “Your brothers are very annoying, you know that?” He’s ignoring a text from Garth -GARTH!- asking after Adam’s well-being. Damn Sam and Dean haven’t even bothered to check in.

Adam snorts. “You’re tellin’ me, prophet-man. Dean thinks I need supervision.”

Kevin’s jaw drops at the deadpan look the kid, a kid, gives him. Somewhere in there, Adam’s not a kid, but right now- there’s not a trace of anything else, and it is honestly screwing with Kevin’s mind. And his mind has been screwed with a lot.

Adam jams the rest of the cookie into his mouth, takes a big sip of milk before carefully returning the cup to the counter, rimming his messy face with a white mustache. “They mess up your life too?”

“You’re pretty grim for a five year old.” Kevin says instead.

Adam shrugs. “You ask stupid questions for a smarty pants.”

“Touche.” Honestly, at this point, he’s pretty sure he should just get used to it. If this was what adult Adam was like...might be worth making a friend. Wouldn’t that drive Dean up the wall?

Adam half reaches for the empty plate behind him when Kevin says, “That’s it. They’re all gone.”

Adam’s eyes widen. “What?” He stares at the plate, then across the room at the cookie jar.

“Nope. All out.” Kevin confirms.

Adam is quiet for a moment, mouth working, before he looks at Kevin with sudden urgency. “We’ve gotta make more before they come back and find the jar empty!”

“No, you just want to eat more.” Kevin laughs.

Adam’s lower lip protrudes. Pouting.

“Well…” Kevin finds himself hedging. “I guess we could make more and then leave them one each.” He reasons.

Adam nods solemnly. “Agreed. Besides, if they ask, I’ll just tell them you ate them all.”

“Hey! I thought we were a united front against your brothers? They’ll never believe you, especially with that chocolate all over your face!”

“I’ll wash! Can’t stop me, prophet-man!” Adam pushes off the counter, nearly giving Kevin a heart attack as he lands with a rather unpleasant slap of bare feet against the tile, but Adam gets up like he throws himself off of stuff all the time and-

The sound of the bunker door unlocking and opening sounds through the place. Adam’s eyes widen as they land on Kevin.

“We’re screwed.” Kevin announces, just as Sam’s voice carries through the bunker.

“Hey, guys?”

[neverwatchedonepiece]

617: "Caesar's Defeat! The Powerful Grizzly Magnum!"

Basically Caesar: “REEEEEEEEEEEEE, SCIENCE!!!”

Only had time for one episode today but caught a snippet of the preview and it seems like posting for one episode here will fit in terms of the story arc. 

Caesar is down and out, Law has done what he came to do, and Luffy has executed step one of his plan to kick ass and kidnap! Now all he needs is the fantastically badass Usopp to come through with the cuffs and step two will be on the cards!

It’s all a matter of escaping Punk Hazard with Caesar in tow, plus Law, the Strawhats, a bunch of kids and maybe some surviving Minions and the G5 and Smoker and Tashigi and Foxfire and Momonosuke and Brownbeard.

Yeah, I hope Franky has some extra bed rolls hidden away in storage because that is a lot of extra bodies on Sunny.

Sanji will be fine. He worked at Baratie. He’s used to mass catering.

Law Tries Out His Stand Up Material On Vergo

In other news, Vergo is still alive. I kind of hoped Law might have taken him out but this is One Piece and you guys have always said that Oda sees a future for most of his characters. (Even Wapol. Yes, I am still salty about Wapol.) Smoker was on the ground, breathing hard. Getting fresh air for once, instead of dat tasty tobacco.

Vergo is also still shit-talking. “You broke the gear? There’s no turning back? That’s hysterical.” 

Brave for a guy who was (at that point) in two pieces with a building crumbling rapidly around him. Not to mention the noxious clouds of gas.

Then he used his hands to spring from the ground and attack Law. He was Roomed and doomed in two seconds, chopped into fractions and hung on the railings. (Approaching Nightmare Fuel territory if you think too much about it.)

Vergo totally reminds me of the Black Knight from Monty Python’s Life of Brian. If you’ve never heard of it, he’s basically this dude who keeps getting up and shit-talking his opponents even after the removal of all his limbs. It’s funny. Vergo even made a joke about it. “How will I eat breakfast tomorrow?” Yeah, he almost went full Black Knight there.

Except for the little serious turn when he threatened Law with Doflamingo’s past.

“How dare you, Law? This is an upset. But I know you’re going to regret it. Keep that in mind. You don’t know Joker’s past and that will cost you your life. Upstarts like you can’t hope to take over the world. It’s filled with those who are much stronger. Tell him, Smoker!”

First of all, why was he appealing to Smoker to back him up like a kid in a playground? The brazen cheek of it. As if. I’m glad Smoker blanked him and sparked up a fat Cuban cigar.

Secondly, what is all this about Doflamingo’s past? Why would that matter to Law? I’m trying to think what could possibly affect Law as much as Vergo says and I’m drawing a blank.The only thing that might be a bit meh is if Doflamingo was once a Marine. We already had that twist with Vergo.

At any rate, Law had had enough with Vergo running his mouth, and chopped his head into two pieces.

“Don’t worry about me. Just worry about yourself. This room will explode soon. Goodbye, Vergo the pirate.”

I ain’t bothered about Vergo. That guy is too arrogant for his own good and Law gave him a well-deserved taste of defeat. I just hope Law took Smoker with him.(It’d be hilarious if Law carried Smoker over his shoulder and they ran into Zoro carrying Tashigi over his shoulder. xD)

Speaking of Well-Deserved Tastes of Defeat...

This guy...

I love a charismatic, melodramatic, total piece of crap villain, but Oda did a great job of making me loathe Caesar here. I think Luffy lamping him square on the chops unhinged him a little. Law destroying the SAD factory and the labs as a result probably finished Caesar off. His arrogance and cruelty was off the charts! I thought Spandam was bad. Caesar makes Spanda look like a playground bully.

I loved how when he realised Law had unleashed merry hell, Caesar’s reaction was, “Damn! Who caused that? I bet it was Law. What is Vergo doing? You Strawhats RUINED MY PARADISE!”

His paradise. Wow, that sure does give you a little peek into this dude’s mind. 

And it gets better. 

Caesar had a last-ditch plan to defeat Luffy. He called his Minions in the Secret Room. “R-Building, can you hear me? Secret Room, come in! Open the air vents now! Let Shinokuni flow into this room.”

The Minions, understandably, were reticent to do this because they are the kind of people who, like the Strawhats, look after their own. They asked, “but wouldn’t it kill our guys?”

Caesar was like, “Well, I’m a gas man. I’m not gonna die. You’re just guinea pigs. No one would care if hundreds of you died. You are just the dregs of society! What are you doing? Hurry up. I can find replacements for you fools so easily.”

Uh oh. 

The mask came off. Caesar must have been so riled that he didn’t care if everyone saw his true nature. The poor, deluded Minions still clung to their vision of Caesar as their benevolent Master, their saviour.

“Oh, the Master is trying to fool the enemies. He must have a plan to do with the gas. It would hurt him to know we suspected him.”

Hurt him? Mate, Caesar has no feelings to be hurt. He has an ego the size of Laboon. That’s not the same thing.

So, of course the Minions pulled the lever. Shinokuni flowed into the room. And I had a facepalm moment at those poor, brainwashed Minions.

Caesar Does A Moria

“Yes! About time,” Caesar shouted. “Dregs shouldn’t think. Now, become my power, Shinokuni. Look, Strawhat! Look at his amazing appearance. This is my scientific power. Through this experiment, two countries have already expressed interest in the weapon. They are both quite peaceful but when humans get serious about defending themselves, they’ll look for any way possible to kill their enemies. Everybody needs me! I’ll spread weapons all over the world and become King of the Land of Death.”

There are a couple of things to unpack here.

First of all, Caesar is completely demented. I mean, that was always obvious. But that ambition of his is twisted and terrifying. Worse, that Doflamingo gave him the traction to actually make it happen.

Secondly, he’s insane but he’s not stupid. Caesar has an eye for business and is, weirdly, able to charm people into believing his bullshit. He also knows the darker side of human nature and how to exploit it, like he has done with those peaceful islands. He is also smug in the knowledge that big shots in governments everywhere will always want him in their corner, so there will always be a place for someone like him. That was a definite Art Mirroring Life moment right there. Harsh but true, I guess. The guy who first split the atom and invented the atomic bomb was a hot commodity, right?

Third, Caesar basically did a Gekko Moria. Caesar took it a step further because he actually gleefully killed all his Minions. Moria just took the shadows back from already dead bodies. This was the logical conclusion of Caesar seeing other people as objects or commodities to be manipulated, used or destroyed as he sees fit. The way he happily killed them all was just nasty.  “It’s amazing, if I do say so myself. Look at how fast it acts on their nerves. It’s almost an art!” And when they begged him to stop, “I am your saviour and I can make efficient use of you good-for-nothings. You are just crumbs. You should not stand against your Master. Die like dogs!”

Crumbs. Dogs. Guinea pigs. Caesar always uses dehumanising language on his poor Minions. And everyone else for that matter. He really is a psychotic, nasty piece of work. If this guy is working for Doflamingo, I cannot wait to see what a horrible bastard Doflamingo turns out to be. xD

Caesar’s Off The Deep End Behaviour and his treatment of his own people caused Luffy to have the veiniest, super frown I have seen on his face so far. Luffy does not like people who betray and used their own crew/soldiers/comrades. 

Luffy said to Momo, “Look after Brownbeard.” Then ran in the opposite direction. Of course, I knew Luffy was just looking to gain some distance. Caesar, of course, mistook it for Luffy chickening out all of a sudden.

There was one person who knew with absolute certainty that this was not the case.

Usopp Was Awesome Here

Can I just talk for a moment about how awesome Usopp was here?

All through this arc, he’s been ridiculously brave. He volunteered to split up with Brook and Foxfire so he could work on his own to find the Sea Prism Stone cuffs for Luffy. He was creeping round the labs on his own and when he found the Secret Room, he did not run upon being confronted with a full squad of Minions. He simply used his smarts to evade capture. Because he knew there was something in there of value and Luffy needed his help. 

When the Minions saw Caesar’s true nature over the DDM feed and were finally like, “OMG this guy is awful.” Usopp just walked up to them and said, “I know you’re all broken hearted here but could I sit in that control seat for a second? I wanna save my friends from the gas.”

See that? Usopp’s loyalty to his friends trumps all sense of fear. 

When the Minions tried to shake Usopp by saying, “Yeah, you’ll never escape because your Captain just cut and run. He left you guys behind.“ Usopp was Not Having One Bit Of It. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa... Are you dissing our captain right in front of me? If he were the kind of person who’d betray us, this whole thing would’ve been much easier for me. I would’ve just run away with my tail between my legs. But he never, ever stops believing in us. So we have no choice but to support him. We pledged to live up to his expectations as long as we can breathe!”

There you have it. Right from the horse’s mouth. Luffy’s faith in his crew inspires them to greater heights. And in Usopp, this is bravery. Absolutely beautiful. 

And when the Minions said, “But what can we do? We can’t beat such a powerful man?” (Referring to Caesar) Usopp replied, “Yes, you can. You guys should just believe in our Captain. Caesar is the type of person that Luffy hates the most. Luffy won’t forgive Caesar.”

Usopp knows Luffy pretty well.

That Grizzly Magnum was really something else. I was expecting it to take out Caesar straight awayt but I liked that it didn’t. Caesar is the kind of villain who needs to have his pride thoroughly broken and to taste bitter, bitter defeat. If not, he’ll just tank the hit, pick himself up again and it’s back to his same old tricks.

The best portrayal of that was when Caesar was wrestling with Luffy, the Shinokuni slowly turning his hands to white powder, and he screamed, “Kneel before my power!”

Luffy will never kneel to anyone. Now, I’m not sure what those pulses of power were that drove Caesar back (Conqueror’s Haki?) but Luffy’s hit finally landed and, in a perfect moment of symbolism, Caesar’s self-made crown shattered.

He is no longer the tyrannical ruler of Punk Hazard. Caesar’s reign has come to an end.

And I can’t wait to see what happens next, because Doflamingo sent one of his lackeys to help him out. 

The plot chickens.

Well, you’re gonna kidnap him, so that might be a tough one to get round.

[sanjisock]

Fuck, Marry, Kill (or, how Usopp becomes the best matchmaker of the sea without really trying)

ao3

1.

It’s a classic , Usopp said. Any pirate worth their salt would play this at least once , he said.

Sanji would say he’s around eighty-percent sure Usopp just made this game up, but Sanji is always eighty-percent sure Usopp made something up just by principle alone. It certainly doesn’t help Usopp’s case that Nami is grinning wide beside him, notepad and quill in hands.

“So,” Nami echoes Usopp’s earlier question cheerfully, and her smile is way too beautiful and magnificent for the words that come out of her mouth next: “fuck, marry, kill. Who’s your pick?”

+

2.

There are rules to this stupid game. Actual fucking rules . Not even the world government kind, the ones they break on a daily basis anyways because, hey, pirates. These rules are the kind that forces you to pay Nami a hefty amount of Berries if you break them, which, on the deck of Sunny, means nothing short of Serious Business.

Nami had taken to the game with surprising interest as soon as Usopp told her about it, but then again, she talked about it with the same tone she uses when she’s going to swindle a lot of money from an unsuspecting poor fellow (read: Zoro), so maybe this isn’t much of a surprise at all.

The rules, pinned next to the spice cupboard and right under the dishwashing duty roster, are as follows:

A crew member must be picked whenever possible.

Only one name is to be given for each category.

If, and only if, one has come up with a legitimate reason not to pick a crew member, it has to be someone they’ve met, known, or at the very least, heard.

Choices are based on pure objective reasoning and any FUCK/MARRY shall not be interpreted as anything resembling interest or, worse, intention to pursue. This means you, Sanji.

The same applies to KILL. This means you, Zoro.

Individual answers are confidential and worth B500,000/answer, or 10% of your last loot, whichever is higher.*

*) Payments are to be made in cash to Nami.

Really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise at all. Sanji thinks he saw her eyes turn Berries-shaped. He personally thinks she still looks beautiful, and tells her as much.

She tells him this doesn’t excuse him from the game, and expects his answer by the end of the week.

+

3.

Sanji is the first victim by elimination — Chopper is out of the game because he is young, innocent and, ultimately, not human, Zoro is sleeping like the oaf he is, Luffy doesn’t seem to have figured out that the thing below his belt is useful for something other than peeing, and the others have left the ship to explore the newest island they’ve just docked at.

Sanji silently wishes the marines would start attacking them just so they could distract Nami and Usopp from the shitty game.

It’s not that Sanji wants to ruin what is — Nami’s expensive fine notwithstanding — ultimately some harmless fun. Sanji has never had problems going along with the crew’s antics, and between declaring war on the World Government and punching a royalty so hard they call a marine admiral after you, this one is far from outrageous by any means. He doesn’t think it’s physically possible for him to give Nami a no for an answer, either.

It’s just that... he doesn’t actually have an answer.

He’s a romantic person by nature. He likes to make everyone happy, and when that doesn’t work out, he likes to make everyone he gives a shit about happy. He does preen from the more... feminine attention, but between the bustling customers of Baratie, entering and leaving as they please, he never learned how to pick favorites.

Nami points at rule number two.

Usopp suggests he should just pick Zoro for MARRY, because they already fight like an old married couple anyways.

Sanji threatens to put Usopp under KILL and break the fifth rule, exactly in that order. Usopp has enough self preservation instinct to shut up really fast after that.

+

Brook has never heard of the game, which gives more credibility to the Usopp-Made-This-Game-Up Theory, but it’s not like there’s stopping them at this point, so Sanji fumes and glares, but in silence. Usopp smartly stays quiet.

Brook asks if Nami would show him her panties if he puts her under MARRY. Nami clocks him in the skull.

He settles on Zoro for MARRY.

“What,” Sanji says, stunned.

“Well, Zoro-san is a disciplined, reputable swordsman,” Brook explains, “and any decent swordsman would make a responsible husband.”

That...probably makes sense in Swordsman-Speak, or whatever language people like Zoro, who substitutes normal greeting with stabbing and slashing, speak in. Whatever. Sanji is civilized , and will not bother to even try to understand.

Brook can’t name anyone under KILL. He is, however, curious if anyone wants to pick him, considering he’s already dead, yohoho, skull joke!

Nami groans and hits his skull, again.

+

Franky has heard of the game, but he can’t pinpoint where he’s exactly heard it from, and Sanji suspects it’s from Usopp.

Franky also puts Zoro under MARRY. Franky is so not on Sanji’s list of favorite people today.

“Not you too,” Sanji groans, scandalized, because Brook is approximately a billion years old and therefore would understandably consider Zoro’s neanderthal values desirable, but Franky is, like, the future . Cyborgs are essentially sentient robots.

Franky shrugs. “He’s a super dude, his fights make great shanties, he can help me carry the ship materials —”

“ I can help you carry the ship materials,” Sanji interrupts, and wonders how his life has gotten to a point where he’s trying to compete with Zoro for Franky’s hand in marriage.

“ And ,” Franky presses, “he won’t chew me out for burping on the table after dinner.”

Sanji’s eyes twitch at that. Well. In sickness and health, sure, but that? That’s just barbaric.

“He’s a great dude who breaks the Sunny’s railings once a week,” Sanji points out, switching his strategy. If he can’t win, at least Zoro should lose, too.

His strategy backfires as Franky raises his eyebrow at him and asks, “Speaking of, didn’t you break the front railing yesterday?”

Franky puts Sanji on KILL for that.

Sanji considers smashing his feet through the railing again, just because he can.

+

Robin immediately picks Zoro for MARRY, because blah yadda blah bushido code, something something gentlemanly, yeah, yeah. Sanji mentally apologizes for tuning her out, but if he has to listen to beautiful Robin-chan talking about Zoro being a good husband, Sanji won’t be able to resist arguing, and that just won’t do. He isn’t about to question a lady’s decision, however irrational. Nobody’s perfect after all — not even Robin.

She also puts Zoro under KILL for ruining her flower bed last week when he accidentally dropped his oversized training weight (which is unnecessarily huge and totally an overcompensation for something ), and he falls for her all over again. Robin really is perfect.

She then tries to clarify whether normal Franky and Cyborg Franky count as one.

“Uh,” Nami says, confused, “would it even make a difference?”

“Nami,” Robin says as she leans forward, chin in hand and a mysterious smile playing on her lips, “the hands make all the difference.”

Robin puts Cyborg Franky under FUCK. Sanji blinks.

Usopp grimaces.

Nami has a distant look on her face, the kind of expression that guys wear when they witness other guys get hit in the nuts.

They pointedly don’t ask , and back away from the room slowly.

+

4.

The final tally is:

Sanji gets one flattering FUCK (he hasn’t found out from whom, and honestly, considering the available options of Usopp, Luffy and Nami, doesn’t want to take his chances), Robin gets two (Nami shiftily avoids everyone’s eyes for this one), Cyborg Franky gets one (Franky opens his mouth to question the specificity, turns beet red by his own realization, and promptly closes it), and Zoro gets one ( ew , is what Sanji would like to say, but Sanji is man enough to admit that Zoro can get it, considering those abs and deltoids he keeps flashing due to his unexplainable aversions to clothing. Fucking caveman).

Zoro gets a whopping five for MARRY.

That’s literally all the strawhats, minus Luffy (who probably doesn’t even know what marriage is), Chopper, Zoro himself, and Sanji.

What the actual fuck .

+

5.

Sanji succumbs to curiosity and pays Nami his ten percent.

Zoro put Sanji under KILL, he finds out.

It’s not a surprise. Hell, it’s the most predictable thing coming out of this game—the sky is blue, water is wet, and Zoro puts Sanji under KILL. Whatever. Sanji still hasn’t decided on his list quite yet, but he is certain he’d put Zoro under KILL, too.

Nami asks him if he wants to know what Zoro’s FUCK and MARRY are, and Sanji politely declines because he just doesn’t care which random chick Zoro wants to do the deed with and not because the way his stomach clenches oddly at the thought, really . It’s probably that beautiful marine lady that always tags along with Smoker — Tashigi-chan or something. Zoro always acts funny around her, even when the others never noticed. He’s an open book to Sanji like that.

Sanji walks away and doesn’t give it a second thought.

Bastard.

+

6.

He gave it a second thought.

And a third. And a fourth. And damn his shitty traitorous brain to hell, a fifth.

By the time lunch rolls around Zoro and Tashigi are married with a quaint little dojo at the foot of a mountain and blessed with three bespectacled, green-haired children Sanji can’t even bring himself to hate because they’d smile just so when their Uncle Sanji makes their favorite apple pie.

Not that there’s anything to hate. About Zoro and Tashigi-chan, that is. Well, there’s always something to hate about Zoro because he’s Zoro , and Sanji would probably nag him a little for receiving the affections from such a beautiful lady like Tashigi, but there’s absolutely nothing deplorable about the idea in general. They’d get along swimmingly anyways, probably spending hours and hours just talking about shitty swords and other sharp, pointy things as their three children play in their backyard overlooking a beautiful deep blue sea, the setting sun painting a warm backdrop on the wooden walls of their dojo.

He blinks as his train of thought crashes and derails into a nearby mental chasm.

He blinks again, just for good measure.

Holy fucking shit, he has a problem .

+

7.

“Marines!” Usopp yells from the crow’s nest, and Sanji wakes up, eyes still bleary, to three marine ships surrounding Sunny, cannons loaded and aimed towards the deck.

Be careful what you wish for, he feels like telling his past self.

He rushes to the deck to get a clearer view on their enemies, and hell , he’s convinced the universe finds pleasure in finding new ways to fuck him over because he sees Smoker on the helm of the largest marine ship.

And if there’s Smoker, there’s —

“Shit,” Zoro mutters from beside him, and Sanji only needs to follow his gaze to see Tashigi walk up towards the helm to stand beside Smoker. Because of course Zoro would notice her immediately. There are roughly a thousand marines on three of these galleons and she’s the first person Zoro sees. Great. Awesome. That would make a romantic story to tell their three green-haired children.

God damn it. His brain really needs to stop with the children already. He considers going for a check up with Chopper just for this.

A thousand bloodthirsty marines prove to be a good enough distraction from Zoro and Tashigi’s imaginary children, and soon Sanji is lost in the rhythm of the fight, almost enjoying it. He kicks a marine on the back of the head, does a spinning kick to immobilize another ten, and jumps aside to avoid a gunshot —

Only to find himself face to face with Tashigi.

“Black Leg —” Tashigi says, immediately taking a fighting stance, but Sanji is faster.

Before he knows it, he finds himself kicking the two guys guarding her, lifts and drives his right leg on her sword and into the cabin wall right beside her head, effectively pinning her to the wall. Sanji doesn’t kick women, would never harm a woman, but anything around her is fair game and he feels almost guilty for trying to wrestle a loophole in his own principle.

He needs to do this, though. He has to. She’s a marine, his enemy, a threat. And… there’s something he needs to know.

He blurts without thinking, “fuck, marry, kill. Who would you pick?”

Tashigi starts. “What?”

He thinks he’s blushing, but he figures if he wants to avoid embarrassment the ship has sailed a long time ago so he says, “out of the strawhats. If you had to choose, who would you fuck, marry and kill?”

Tashigi narrows her eyes and pulls harder on her sword. “Are you joking, pirate?!”

Sanji is stronger, though. He pushes her sword deeper into the wall. “I’m sorry, mademoiselle, but I don’t joke about this.”

Tashigi wears the expression of someone who wonders what kind of life decisions she’s made that has led her into this situation, which is something Sanji can relate with. “Well, fuck you , pirate. I’d kill you .”

That’s fair, Sanji supposes. “And marry?”

She opens her mouth, stops herself from saying at least three other different curses before turning an interesting shade of red.

She mumbles her answer.

“Yes, Tashigi-chan?”

“Don’t call me Tashigi- chan ,” she snarls, much louder, before muttering again, though Sanji can hear it this time, a low, shy, “well, that swordsman of yours did save my life back in Punk Hazard.”

Tashigi blushes brighter, and Sanji knows a lost cause when he sees one.

Zoro and Tashigi have four children this time in his head, three girls and one boy, and it sucks, so fucking unfair that everyone wants to marry Zoro, with his stupid hair and stupid face and stupid everything. What’s so good about him anyways? The moron doesn’t even have depth perception . He doesn’t deserve all these beautiful girls, wouldn’t even be able to cherish them and treat them with love like Sanji would.

Who’s to say that they would know him either? Zoro’s a moron , after all, and he probably only has, like, three sets of expressions. Sure, Sanji can read his tics, knows the way Zoro clenches and unclenches his left hand when he sees a potentially strong opponents, the way Zoro would rub the back of his neck when he’s embarrassed — but these girls don’t know that. He doesn’t think anyone knows that, and without knowing the real Zoro, how could they make him happy? Would they know how to find him when he gets lost? Would they cook him his favorite food every day? Would they love him as much Sanji does —

Wait.

Sanji pauses.

And.

Breathes.

Tashigi has started protesting now, demanding her swords to be returned now that she’s gone along with his ridiculous demands, but it all sounds so distant now, because.

He loves. Zoro.

Sanji inhales. Then exhales.

He loves Zoro .

He sees it again, the dojo at the foot of a hill overlooking the beautiful blue sea, but this time the dojo belongs to Zoro and him , and two of the four children have blonde hair, and the sea outside is All Blue. The imagination seems so vivid because somewhere along the line that has become his dream , a future he envisioned as clearly as finding All Blue and witnessing Luffy become a Pirate King.

Fuck, he’s in love with Zoro.

“Shit,” he says heartily. “I’m in love with Zoro.”

“What?” Tashigi says, perplexed. Sanji hopes it’s because she can’t hear him amidst the cacophony of gunfire, swords, and bodies hitting the floor.

He lowers his leg and steps back, still in shock by the revelation.

Tashigi is looking at him in confusion, or at least he assumes she does, because he’s no longer paying much attention to his surroundings. How could he, when he’s just come to such a huge revelation about himself, holy fucking hell he’s in love with Zoro —

A passing marine takes the chance and stabs a sword through his lungs.

+

8.

The last thing he remembers is choking on air, mentally laughing at the fucked up irony of living on a ship surrounded by endless seas just to meet his end by drowning on dry land. He thinks he saw flashes of metal, of Zoro’s stupid green hair and stupider face, torn apart between anger and concern, Sanji’s name for once stumbled out of his lips — but Sanji is pretty sure he imagined this last part up. He is a romantic fool like that.

He blinks himself awake to the familiar smell of Chopper’s infirmary, the oddly soothing mix of medicine and sweets. He tries to sit up as far as his bandaged torso would allow, and when he catches the orange of Nami’s hair his heart warms but doesn’t flutter. It hasn’t been, he realizes, for quite some time.

He really is in love with Zoro. God damn it.

“Sanji?” Nami says when their eyes finally meet, and she hurriedly stands up, “oh my god, you’re awake, I need to wake Chopper up, Chopper —”

“Don’t worry, Nami-san,” he says, catching her wrist just in time before she rushes out of his reach, “I’m fine. Let our doctor sleep for some time.”

“But,” she says, but it’s a token resistance at best, as she’s already sitting down again. She tugs his grip lightly at that — a small, playful movement — but he feels the pull reverberate through his arm and to his chest, jarring him into a coughing fit.

He thinks he’s coughed up both of his lungs before a glass of water touches his lips. It takes him a few gulps and a couple more deep breaths before he realizes Nami is rambling a guilty “oh my god, Sanji-kun, oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

He clears his throat and tries to give her his best smile, “please don’t apologize, Nami-san! A beautiful face like yours shall not be marred with unnecessary worries.”

Nami sighs, but it’s fond. “You were unconscious for a whole week,” she says, squeezing his shoulder, “let me fuss over you for a while.”

Sanji whips his head towards her in shock, mouth hanging open

“A week,” he echoes. No wonder he feels so sluggish. He thought it might have been the medicine, but apparently he danced far too near to the grim reaper than he was comfortable with.

His gaze drifts to take in more of the infirmary, afraid that he’s missed more important details like not remembering an entire week of his life . For the most part everything seems to be in place, large shelves filled with Chopper’s neatly-arranged medical books beside his work table, with complicated looking medical appliances situated more at the corner of the room, near the door. His gaze eventually falls on the small bedside table and he does a double take.

Zoro’s katanas — all three of them — are leaning against the foot of the table. Sanji frowns; it’s rare to see them without their owner, and rarer still to see them being parted with so voluntarily, away from the swordsman's sight.

“Yeah, Zoro was here,” Nami answers the unvoiced question as she notices what he’s been staring at, “been by your bedside all week, actually. We had a roster, just in case you —” Nami pauses at that, looks away and — did her voice waver at the end there? “You know. Anyway, didn’t even need the whole roster thing in the end because Zoro just wouldn’t leave. Stubborn man. Just his luck you woke up when he took a bathroom break; serves him right for growling at me when I offered him to switch on the first day. He looked like he was ready to gouge his remaining eye out and leave it in the infirmary if it meant keeping an eye on you, science be damned.”

Sanji blinks, again, at the story. There’s a weird tug at this chest. He lifts his hand up to touch it, and it feels warm, from the inside.

“It’s frankly kind of cute, how he’s been acting like a mother hen,” Nami continues, and her smile gains a mischievous edge as she adds, “or, you know, like a worried husband.”

Sanji wants to say something to that, but Chopper probably gave him some strong stuff because his tongue feels heavy and he can feel the strong pull of sleep dragging him back to unconsciousness.

He sees darkness at the edges of his vision, and doesn’t think at all as he says, “yeah, he would make a good husband,” and eyes already closed, he sees the house at the foot of the hill and mumbles, “I’d marry him.”

Chopper’s medicine really is strong.

+

9.

The next time Sanji opens his eyes, there’s a cottony rasp on the inside of his mouth and dread looming at the back of his mind. It’s reminiscent of days when they partied too hard and he drank one too many glasses of liquor, but worse , because he remembers every single word he said to Nami.

He considers asking Chopper on his stance on euthanasia.

It doesn’t help that the person sitting beside his bed is not the ever-beautiful, ever-wonderful Nami, but the last person he’d rather see after his accidental confession. He has no doubt that Nami has told Zoro everything — has told everyone everything — and while his body has mostly recovered from the injuries, he’s pretty sure he could still die from embarrassment.

He sits up on the bed, scrambling for an excuse, “Zoro —”

“You almost died,” Zoro interrupts before Sanji could even finish his sentence, and takes Sanji’s hand in his. “Don’t you dare do that again, Shit Cook.”

Sanji stares at their hands, and wonders if Chopper’s medicine is even stronger than he thought. “What does it mean to you?”

Zoro shrugs. “You know what,” he answers vaguely.

Sanji doesn’t , though. Zoro shifts in his seat, looking away, seemingly embarrassed by his own words, and Sanji is left wondering what the fuck is happening. Zoro is the type of person who gives brutally honest and oftentimes insensitive answers. He doesn’t give cryptic, vague answers — that’s more of Sanji’s department. “What?”

Zoro pulls his hand away, and Sanji hates how his own hand feels very cold all of a sudden. “You know. Our answers for Usopp’s stupid game.”

Sanji would rather take another sword to the chest than to continue with this conversation, so he does the cowardly thing and practically leaps out of the bed. “I’m not in the mood to talk about that.”

Zoro is faster, though — Sanji is blaming all the medicines in his bloodstream for his slow reaction — and manages to catch Sanji by the wrist. “Where are you going?”

“Away. Out.” He pats his pockets with his free hand, but doesn’t find his cigarettes, unsurprisingly. Fuck, he needs a smoke. “In case you forgot, I haven’t been out for a week from this shitty room.”

“Seriously?” Zoro growls in reply, tightening his grip. “That’s all you got to say? Didn’t you pay for my answers? Nami told me you — if that sea witch is lying again —”

“I told you not to call Nami-san like that,” he replies, almost instinctively, feeling more and more agitated by the turn of the conversation. “What the fuck are you talking about, brainless mosshead.”

Zoro glowers at him, face oddly serious. “Did you or did you not get my answers for the stupid game?”

Sanji is going to lose it. Is Zoro seriously trying to rub this whole thing in his face? The fact that Sanji wants to marry him, even after knowing Zoro only puts him under kill? Knowing that Zoro doesn’t find him desirable in any way, that he’d prefer having three wonderful well-mannered kids with a beautiful marine lady?

“You put me under KILL!” He yells, unable to stop himself. “If this is your way of telling me you want to kill me, drop it. Way too roundabout for your style, Marimo. And just in case you’re wondering, no, I didn’t bother to find out who you want to fuck. Or marry.” He looks away, trying not to choke on his own heart. “Happy?”

Zoro’s eyes widen comically at that, and he loosens his grip on Sanj’s wrist in surprise; Sanji doesn’t miss the chance and kicks him on the chest.

Zoro flies out of the infirmary through the door with a satisfying bang , and Sanji relishes his victory for a moment before growing reluctantly concerned as Zoro doesn’t get up from that. Surely he didn’t kick him that hard, did he? He jogs towards the dust-covered body on the deck, and finds Zoro with his head in his hand, mouth twisting into a hysterical laughter.

“Stupid cook,” Zoro says as soon as Sanji’s close enough to hear him, “are you jealous?”

Sanji growls, and pointedly doesn’t blush. “I’m going to kill you.”

When Zoro drops his hand and looks up, he doesn’t look like he’s making fun of Sanji, though. He looks surprised, and even almost… hopeful? “You are jealous.”

Sanji has about a thousand retorts to that, but all of them die in his lips as Zoro tugs him down by the hand, pulling him to crouch right in front of Zoro. Their faces are really close like this, and Sanji can’t look away.

“Cook,” Zoro says when Sanji doesn’t say anything, “Nami said you put me under your MARRY. Is that true?”

Sanji refuses to answer, but the way he looks away and blushes like a fourteen-year-old is probably a good enough answer for Zoro. Zoro laughs, tightens his grip on Sanji’s wrist and pulls him into a kiss.

Sanji’s life needs to have fewer twists before he dies from heart attack at the tender age of twenty-one.

When they part, Zoro doesn’t lean away; presses their foreheads together instead, his hand large and warm on the nape of Sanji’s neck. There’s a big grin plastered across Zoro’s flushed face, the kind that Sanji only sees whenever the swordsman comes across an alcohol he likes, or wins a particularly hard fight, or — as Sanji begins to understand, heart hammering in his chest like it’s trying to escape — whenever Zoro is really, really happy, apparently. And to think that Sanji is the one who puts that smile on Zoro’s face —

“I put you under MARRY, you dumbass,” Zoro says, though his insult doesn’t carry much weight, considering the stupid grin still wouldn’t leave his face. “Put you under everything , Cook. Kill, fuck, marry — the whole deal. Because that’s how far you’ve messed me up — you idiot, stupid, annoying, oblivious Shit Cook,” he presses another kiss, chaste and light and all too quick, leaving tingling sensations on Sanji’s lips. “I am in love with you.”

The words rattle against Sanji’s ribcage, his heart threatening to burst from his chest. His face feels warm all over, and he’d look away, except for the fact that Zoro’s hands are gently cupping his face, thumb rubbing absentmindedly against Sanji’s cheek.

“You’d make the shittiest husband ever,” Sanji tells him, because Zoro might be the love of his life — and ain’t that a thought that could make his heart miss a couple of beats — but he still wouldn’t miss a chance to tease Zoro.

“Yeah.” Zoro simply agrees at that, laughing softly. “I’d be your shittiest husband, though.”

Sanji doesn’t find a reason to argue with that, heart jackrabbiting against his chest, and simply leans for another kiss.

+

10.

By unanimous decision, and with some heavy censorship by replacing FUCK with SLEEP, they decided that Chopper is at least old and human enough to know what’s going on with the game.

“I’m not happy at all that you decided to finally include me in the game, bastard!” Chopper said with a happy wiggle, his hooves clapping together excitedly.

He puts Zoro under SLEEP. Literally. Chopper thinks Zoro makes a great pillow, and a great sleeping partner because he doesn’t move around.

Chopper purses his lips at MARRY.

“The idea of human marriage is still foreign to me,” he says, explaining his silence, “there are too many factors involved in human marriage. For us reindeers, all we look for in a mate is one who can provide us food.”

As if on cue, Zoro throws a large fish onto the deck. There are three large slashes on its belly, crossing through its gills.

Chopper picks Zoro for MARRY.

Sanji resists the urge to bash his head repeatedly on the ship mast, and doesn’t go through with it only because Zoro leans in and steals a kiss from him, effectively blocking his path.

Bastard. Shittiest husband ever .

[martakepite]

My Mom Has No Hair

My mom has no hair. The thought sinks in. She says she’s fine, but I hear the fear in her voice traveling 2000-something kilometers from her mouth to my ear. My lips start to shake and eyes fill up with tears, but I can’t cry. Not while she’s still on the line. I will chew off my own arm, before I let her hear me crying. I have to be strong. We both need to be strong.

I finish the call and my tears can’t stay locked away any longer. It’s go time for these babies.

But, as I start to cry, my Chinese neighbor walks in the shared kitchen, where I just tried to eat my dinner. Or my sandwich, to be precise. Of course, now the appetite has gone, as well as my ability to hide the tears. She has already seen too much. Should I kill her? - a thought slips into my mind. She will tell everyone. Or worse! She will try and talk to me! Go away, go away, go away… - I keep repeating in my head in hopes that she might hear me and actually get the hint.

The luck is with me, she’s leaving to her room. Right before she shyly asks: “Are you okay?”

Damn it! Should have killed her! “Yeah, I’m fine,” I smile back instead.

Just as she walks out of the kitchen and I think I can cry my eyes out all by myself, now the Chinese guy, Tom, walks in. He doesn’t seem too bothered by my tears, which I’m trying my best to hide. I pray that he would just microwave his meal and go into his room, but, no, of course, not. He sits right next to me and chews away at whatever that red, sad thing in his plastic tray is.

I quickly finish my tea and leave the kitchen. I’m not in the mood to deal with any of these people tonight.

I run into my room, hoping that Hivda, my Turkish roommate, won’t ask any questions, quickly find the pack of cigarettes that Monika gave me and go outside.

My mom has no hair, is all I keep hearing in my head. I try to turn the music louder, but it doesn’t help. The tears roll down my cheeks, but the fucking elevator can’t reach my floor soon enough. I’m standing there, waiting for that box to come up and take me down, and I have almost quit the idea of going for a smoke. Are you crazy?! Do you want to get a cancer?! Well, that’s a stupid thought. Quite ironic… Well, you know… Because my mom has no hair.

Finally, the elevator doors open and I jump in. People walk in and out, and the elevator takes forever to get to the ground floor. I slide right between the people just so I can get out of the stupid box as fast as possible. I manage to do it without anyone noticing me or trying to talk to me again. My first success so far.

I speed up and walk outside in the cold air. It’s funny how you can’t really feel the cold against your skin, when you’re so overtaken by something. I go through the bushes to the smoker’s spot. Fuck, there are also people there. God forbid, they will try to talk to me. I swear, I will throw a cigarette at their faces, if they do.

I choose my spot right between two very chatty groups of students. I take out one of the white cigarettes and with trembling fingers click it. These cigarettes are now illegal in the UK. I’m a somewhat criminal now.

For the last time I consider not smoking, because I might soon develop a bad habit. But then I already have the lighter turning on the flame and I inhale the first smoke. I don’t want to praise this stupid habit, but it was the only thing that helped. Everything stopped. Including me and my tears.

My mom has no hair, the thought sank in.

I kept inhaling the minty smokes and looked around the Marylebone Road. So many cars, everyone is rushing somewhere, but that’s nothing unusual for London. Here there is no peace. People are always rushing. Life here is always rushing. Find me a peaceful Londoner and I will show you a good liar. I have been here for exactly three weeks now and I am more than certain that you can’t be peaceful in this city. Only if for the reason that you’re constantly surrounded by the rush, stress and loud noises. And that’s not peace.

Shiny lights from the cars, lanterns and traffic lights all blur into a huge pile of colors. I only manage to snap out of the blur and see things again the way they truly are when a double-decker stops right in front of me. “Chase after your dreams,” says a sign on the double-decker. Fuck off, I growl at it in my head. And, little to my surprise, it actually does go away. Instead I’m left looking bluntly at the Madame Tussaud’s museum.

My mom has no hair, I hear my thoughts again. She’s bald like Gandhi.Suddenly a sarcastic smile appears on my face as a huge smoke dragon leaves my lips. I chuckle sadly, I bet my mom would find this funny as well.

I finish my cigarette and finally start to hear the song that was playing in my earphones all this time. It’s “Stop Crying Your Heart Out” by Oasis. Of course, it’s this song. Of course, Oasis. I mean, I am in England, of all the places, and I was just crying. I’m a walking, talking, breathing cliche. What a poor excuse of a human I am!

My mom has no hair, I repeat, this time on purpose, in my head. But she has a wig. And, like, three more chemo therapies ahead of her. And the surgery. And then she will have more medical therapies. And then she will live happily, and HEALTHY, ever after.

I get back to my dorm, wait for the elevator, get in the box and start my way up. I won’t smoke again, I announce in my head. Unless it’s an emotional emergency, a voice in the back of my head adds. I walk into the room smelling of cigarettes and tear stains still are visible on my face, but Hivda asks no questions and minds her business. I like her. She’s a good roommate. She probably thinks I’m crying about a boy, because I haven’t told her anything about my mom. Haven’t told a lot of people. Don’t really know how to talk about my mom having a cancer and losing all of her beautiful, blonde locks. Don’t really feel like bothering others with this type of sad stories. However, Hivda probably will find out sooner or later. I mean, it’s gonna get a lot worse from here on now, before it will get better. The million dollar question here is - how long will I be able to hide my tears and reason for them from her and others.

[ncfan-1]

ncfan listens to The Magnus Archives: S1 EP039 (’Infestation’) & EP040 (’Human Remains’)

And I’m finally finished with the vacation binge-listen backlog!

No spoilers, please!

EP 039: Infestation

- I probably won’t have as much to say about these two episodes, because a lot of it is going to be less meta and more just my observations.

- Jon, don’t go for the tape recorder! You’re going to be worm food!

- Sasha, you didn’t have your worm removed with a corkscrew.

- Poor Martin, he really has had entirely too much time to think about this, hasn’t he? He’s been living in the Archives for four months, now, and others might think it’s time for him to move out, but I can’t blame him, not at all. I mean, Prentiss followed him home. The Flesh Hive knows where he lives, and there’s nothing to stop it from heading over to his place again if it decides it wants to fuck with him some more. I wouldn’t want to go home, either.

- “These old files are far more protected than we ever were.” Yeah, that does reflect the Institute’s attitude towards its personnel, doesn’t it?

- Martin going from “Hah!” to “…Sorry” in the space of like, two seconds is peak Martin and my heart hurts.

- “Why record it?” Why, indeed. I think your boss has a problem, Sasha.

- And Jon’s picked up on what the audience has—that the statements all seem to be connected with one another somehow, but that we’re only just beginning to grasp at the general shape of it.

- I’m not surprised that the statements that have some basis in reality don’t place nice with digital recording software. Whenever you quote dialogue from the entities in statements, the audio distorts; digital recording software would probably cope even worse. I still want to know if the statements go through a scanner alright. There’s been no mention of trying to digitize the physical statements themselves. I mean, I’d bet the “real” statements probably don’t scan very well—they probably produce a distorted image on the screen. But you could still transcribe them and drop them into an engine like Laserfiche.

- How the heck did Tim miss all the worms?

- “Do… you… hear… the… song?”

- Martin, sweetheart, it might have been better to tell your coworkers about the spare fire extinguishers.

- Martin blowing up at Jon about his unwonted skepticism is golden.

- I mean, yeah, come on, Jane’s tongue and lips are probably gone by this point. Can’t form consonant sounds without your tongue and your lips (seriously, you need them for that), so how could she speak intelligibly without something supernatural going on?

- Jon finally admits that he’s always believed in the supernatural, and also admits that he feels like he’s being watched while he records the statements. He feels like he loses himself in the statements (Which would definitely explain why he seems to get so wrapped up in the narrative of the statements, only to rip them apart once he’s done reading).

- And now the Flesh Hive is destroying boxes of statements. I don’t know what it is coming out of Jane’s mouth, and frankly I’m not sure I want to know. Might it be a pale, sickly yellow?

- Jon tries to have a heart-to-heart with Martin. It goes about as awkwardly as you might expect. Jon, consider that Martin’s problems with Jane Prentiss do not just go away if he quits. The Flesh Hive probably won’t get the memo that Martin isn’t with the Archives anymore. He’s better off just staying where he is.

- “You… didn’t die here, did you?” “Did you think I was a ghost?” Jonathan Sims, you gigantic dork.

- “A ghost? Really?” “Shut up, Martin.”

- Elias isn’t taking this nearly as seriously as he ought to.

- “He’s not smoking again, is he?” Ooh, backstory. I can definitely see Jon as a stress smoker.

- When Elias brings up the fact that dumping a bunch of carbon dioxide on Jon and Martin might kill them, his first concern is that he doesn’t want to find another archivist. Seriously. Elias, if you want to convince me you aren’t sketchy as hell, you’re not doing a good job.

- The thing with the wall into Jon’s office leading into tunnels and Tim breaking through a wall in I think the room where they store the statements leads me to wonder something: is the Archival part of the Institute underground? Partially underground? I’d say that that isn’t the best place to store paper, since if the air conditioning ever breaks and you don’t get it fixed in short order things are going to get bad, fast.

- I just imagine Jon and Martin clinging to one another as Tim breaks through the wall, trying not to scream like Courage the Cowardly Dog.

- Did Tim just strip?

- That moment of silence, punctuated only by the fire alarm, as Tim and Jon digest Martin’s “I write poetry” is golden.

- Farewell, Sasha, we barely knew ye. I do wonder what exactly was up with Not-Sasha’s “I see you,” though. I can’t decide whether the scream is in response to Not-Sasha coming up out of the table, or if it’s in response to Not-Sasha “replacing” her, so what’s up with the “I see you?” Is it a response to Sasha trying to run away, or is Not-Sasha breaking the fourth wall and addressing us?

- Well, I actually wound up saying as much as I do on normal posts.

EP 040: ‘Human Remains’

- First up, we’ve got Elias, who is way too calm, and seems to be hiding attempts to be obstructive behind concern.

- Jon sounds fucking rough. Given what happened to him, that’s not a surprise.

- Okay, so the place where Jon records the statements is in the basement. That answers one of my questions.

- Good thing they burned Jane’s body. That’s really the only way to be sure, in cases like this.

- “Tens of thousands of things without mouths screaming as one.” Very evocative, Jon. Elias sounds a bit weirded out by this.

- Interesting how “Sasha” doesn’t seem to have been affected by the gas before it dissipated. Interesting how no one comments on this.

- “Tell me what happened to Gertrude Robinson.” Are you sweating a little, Elias? You are sketchy as fuck—you ought to be.

Seriously, you found a massive blood stain at Gertrude’s desk and all you told her successor was that she had “passed away?” What the hell?

- Next up is Tim, who drops an… interesting detail from the tunnels on us.

- Tim, I don’t think quarantine is the proper place for making jokes.

- Tim pointing out that the worms being slower and louder in the Archive than without is an important one. Because, indeed, what is it about the Archive that hinders their progress?

- That “interesting detail?” When Tim was in the tunnels, he looked into a room, and saw the worms swarming there, trying to form what he’s pretty sure was a doorway. At this point, it’s clear that things like the Flesh Hive are the earthly representation of something else. If they were trying to form a doorway, what were they trying to open up a door for? Could the thing on the other side have even gotten through? And what would it have been like if it did?

- Now we have Not-Sasha’s statement. My first reaction, the first time I listened to it?

“YOU’RE NOT EVEN GOOD AT IT, YOU HACK.”

I’m angry.

- Fucking hell, Not-Sasha… She sounds uncanny, and she probably dresses like a… I don’t know, I have a very specific aesthetic head canon for people as obviously artificial as she is, and it tends to involve the 1950s, because that is a very artificial decade in many ways. I just imagine “proper” dresses and immaculate makeup and a thousand knives hidden in every fold.

- Can the worms even burrow in to whatever Not-Sasha is?

- Elias was looking funny at Not-Sasha?

- Yeah, I’m sure you just dropped the tape recorder. Definitely didn’t destroy and/or hide the tapes.

- Jon, be nice to Martin.

- “No, I mean… I’m sorry I left you.” My heart.

- “Everyone’s fine.” Nobody’s fine.

- “The walls seemed to kill the sound dead, and there wasn’t any echo.” This makes me think about unnatural darkness, and the things that move in them.

- So the Archive was built on a prison?

- Yeah, I wouldn’t want to go down those staircases, either.

- It sounds like the tunnels have been occupied recently, though, with Martin’s talk of finding empty wine bottles and a pack of Mint Imperials. So I’ll keep that in mind for Season 2.

- The tunnels are a maze, and Martin was hopelessly lost. Then Martin looked into a room… and found Gertrude. In a room full of cassette tapes. And somehow, he could look at a woman who’s been dead for months at least, slumped forward in her chair, and tell that she had been shot three times in the chest. Somehow.

- Jon… does not sound good. I do not see him handling these revelations well. (Hell, I know he doesn’t handle these revelations well.)

- I haven’t checked, but I’d bet the tapes that are gone are the ones that have Sasha’s voice on them.

- “I’m going to figure this out, and I’m not going to stop. They’ll have to kill me first.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #410

“oh baby, baby, does she take a piece of lime for the drink that i’ma buy her, do you know just what she likes?

Do you put candy canes on your Christmas tree? Ye. Have you ever written/drawn/painted random stuff on your bedroom wall? No. What do you currently hear? A slowed w/ reverb version of "If U Seek Amy" by Britney Spears. Yes, I have a serious thing for these edits of childhood songs, ha ha. Actually, no shame, I still love Britney lmao. What's your favorite flavor of Doritos? Cool Ranch. Do you like bagels? Yep. Do you ever worry about what the world will be like when you have kids? I ain't having any of those, so I don't have to worry about that. Have you ever seen a hippo in person? At a zoo, yes. Are you any good at HTML? Noooo. When was the last time you did something you knew was wrong? Recently, because I'm awful about downloading things illegally. What was the last thing you downloaded on your computer? A picture. Do you ever cry just to get your way? Hi, I'm 25. I at least have SOME adult traits. Have you ever been to any professional sports games? Yes. What's the most boring sport to watch? The only sport I enjoy watching is dance, so. I think golf has to take the cake for the absolute worst, though. Do you like lip rings on the opposite sex? UGH I just love lip rings on anybody. Do you have good or bad vision? Literally awful. Have you ever parked in a handicapped spot when you weren't supposed to? Hell no. That is so fucking inconsiderate and lazy. Have you ever been to a different country? No. When was the last time you finger-painted? Nooo idea. Probably not since I was a little kid. Do you say car-mel or car-A-mel? "Care-uh-mel." When you get out of the shower, do you use one or two towels? One. Are you uncomfortable with changing clothes in front of others? Absolutely yes. Hell, I don't think I ever really changed in front of Jason back in the day, so that says something about how self-conscious I was with a FIT body. Never mind this catastrophe I own now. Which is worse: Runny nose or stuffy nose? Both suck, but stuffy drives me absolutely INSANE. Who's been the most influential person in your life? My mom. Do you have any tan lines? Ha, yeah, no. How many different schools have you gone to? Six. Do you know how to slow dance? I mean, yes? It's not complicated. Have you ever taken The Impossible Quiz? (If not, you should Google it. :D) No, and I'll never waste my time doing that shit. I've watched people play and beat it, but it seems like such frustrating, pointless madness with zero rhyme or reason behind it. Has someone that you liked told you that you are a waste of their time? No. Who is the last person you were in a car with? Mom. In the next 6 months, what are you looking forward to most? Ummmm Christmas, maybe? That's always exciting. Is there anyone who hates you? Probably. Who were you with the last time you went out for food? Mom. If your boyfriend or girlfriend smoked pot, would you care? Eh... I guess if it was for medicinal purposes, I would be okay with it. I'm not keen on dating a smoker of anything. Do you want to start over with anyone? Just Jason, at least sometimes. It'd be really, really nice if we could be friends again and just forget about who we were all those years ago, but I genuinely doubt my ability to be "just friends" with him. Even though I haven't spoken to this dude in over FOUR YEARS, and I'm sure he's changed a lot, just like I have. We might not even be compatible anymore. As much as I may want it, I think it's probably for the better we remain unassociated. Do you eat the crust of your sandwiches? It's what I eat first. Are you completely over your last relationship? Not "completely," no. I still love her, but I'm in a headspace of accepting that now is not the right time with unfit conditions. What hoodie did you wear last? My Pikachu one, which is the one I pretty much always wear. Do you listen to Incubus? Probably surprisingly, no. I don't know if I've even heard a song. Do you wear flip-flops during the winter? More like always. Do you like the smell of Axe? If you don't use an obnoxious amount, yeah. What do you think of feminists? Absolutely necessary as pilots for change. HOWEVER, I do believe some can take the concept waaaay too far. Who was the last person to smoke a cigarette in your presence? Dad, probably. When was the last time you ate a cupcake? Oh my god, GUYS. It was my niece's birthday last month, and she did the CUTEST shit. She used to be very, very opposed to getting even slightly dirty (I mean like a speck of dirt on her would make her cry), and this kid decided to just C H O M P into her cupcake and get the frosting ALL over her face. She had two and got so messy, and that angel was just laughing hysterically about it. That girl is such a damn gift. Safe to say she was bouncing off the walls that night. Did you hug one of your parents today? No. Do you tan in the nude? I don't tan, period. Have you ever put a lot of thought and effort into a gift for somebody, only for them to act like it didn’t really matter to them? Oh god, no. That would really, really hurt, because I genuinely do try to be very thoughtful with my gifts. Do you follow the ‘five second rule’ when you drop food on the ground? NOOOOOOO. It's just a bullshit myth. I am NOT eating food that's been on the floor for a millisecond. If you had to describe yourself using a colour, which colour would you be? Maybe like... navy blue? Kinda dark and somber, but also has a calmness to it. Have you ever had to use another person’s toothbrush before? What were the circumstances? I WOULD FUCKING NEVER. Omg that is so gross. Have you ever crashed a car? No. Do you have a garden? Does it have flowers, vegetables, or both? No. Where do you want to raise your kids? I don't want kids, but if I did, absolutely surrounded by nature and animals. Have you ever been to Cracker Barrel? Yeah, I love it there. Damn, now I want some, lol. Have you ever seen a ghost? I sure as fuck saw something. As soon as you find out you are pregnant, who will you first tell? Who says I'm ever going to BE pregnant? 'Cuz it sure isn't in my plans. But hypothetically, the dad. Have you ever won a game of Minesweeper? Like ever? I've never played it. Who is your best guy friend(s)? Girt. I really should chat with him soon, it's been too long. If you had a tiny scar on your face, would you get it removed or just keep it? I'd keep it. Make me look more badass. ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ What is your hair naturally like? Brown and kinda-sorta wavy. Have you ever stared at a stranger and they said something to you about it? No; I don't stare at people. Is your father very protective of you? I wouldn't say "very protective," no. What would you do if your hero died? ffffffUCK THIS QUESTION HOW ABOUT NO HE'S NOT ALLOWED THAT'S VERY ILLEGAL Where was your first date at with your current lover? I don't have one currently. Are you friendly in the morning, or are you barely awake? Depends on how much sleep I got, but I'm generally in my best mood in the morning. Did your parents force you to go to church? Mom did. What made you pick up the last book you started reading? It was the next book in the series I'm reading, Wings of Fire. When was the last time you went somewhere for the first time? Hm. I dunno. Hypothetically and generally speaking, how would you go about breaking up with someone? Is there anything you would make sure to say, or perhaps not say? I mean it would really depend on WHY I was breaking up with them, but I guess in most situations I'd try to meet them face-to-face and explain why I wanted to cut things off. I think it'd be important for them to hear my tone of voice, and I think physically meeting somewhere would show that I care enough for them to cut time out of my day to see them and try to hurt them as least as possible, given the situation. What do you find particularly offensive? Would you say you’re easy or difficult to offend? DO NOT in even a minor way ridicule mental illness or belittle victims as "weak" or pull the "it's just in their head" bullshit. The misuse of the term "retard(ed)" also genuinely offends me. I wouldn't say I'm easy to offend, either. What was the last chore you completed? Changing my cat's litter. When was the last time someone saw you naked? It's been a loooong time, and it would've only been my mom when I was like, going into a shower or something. If you could bring someone back from the dead and spend an hour with them, who would it be and what would you do/say? Probably Steve Irwin. I'd go on and on about how his family has carried his legacy so brilliantly, and show him aaaaaall the public pictures of Bindi and Grace, especially. God, that man would be so proud of them all. What is the greatest lost you’ve endured? My first "real" boyfriend. How would you describe your current mood? A mix of tired and anxious. I don't feel like going to bed yet, and the storm we've got passing through has me nervous about tornadoes 'n shit. Do you ever drink or get high alone? I've had some light drinks alone. What is the “worst” drug you’ve done? Are there any you will never try, or any you want to try? I've never done any illicit drugs, and I don't want to. What is the most personal thing you’re willing to reveal? Probably that I've had a pilonidal cyst. It's awkward to explain, but I'll share it anyway if there's a good reason to/I'm asked or something. What made you stop talking to the last person you cut out of your life? Her just being the most toxic, drama-filled person with the biggest victim complex of any human I've ever met. Who was the last person to yell at you? Did you yell back? Mom, and my voice was raised. Where do you like to be kissed? This depends on how serious we are. Can go from just the cheek to a lot of places. Which season is your least favorite and why? Summer, because it's too goddamn hot and humid. Who, if anyone, do you compare yourself to most? Probably my little sister. She's on such a successful path, and then there's like... me lmao. Do you have a night-light in your bedroom? If so, what does it look like? No. What is your favorite breakfast food? How often do you get to eat it? Cinnamon rollssssss. I have 'em very rarely, though. I'll eat too many of them, which I definitely don't need. What is your favorite thing about autumn? What about your least favorite thing? AHHHHHH EVERYTHING. I love Halloween and the decorations that come with it, the changing leaves, the crisp air... just all of it. :') Who was the last person you asked for help? Mom, I'm sure.

[ohgoddard]

FoF:Omega.1.10.

Stars shining bright above you Night breezes seem to whisper "I love you" Birds singing in the sycamore tree Dream a little dream of me

The song plays alone and solemn from some forgotten record player, just out of sight. The street is sparsely busy, a few walking pairs and some with children hurriedly walking behind them. A bright sunny day, giving a slight warmth despite the autumn leaves fluttering through the air and landing upon the sidewalk. I lift a cup of coffee to my lips, enjoying the bitter taste. This cafe isn't my go-to place to go, but with the combination of the cool weather and the scenery, I just needed to sit outside and enjoy it with something warm. Though I do miss the chatter of a crowded cafe, the nice quietness of one in the early morning is nice as well. Of course, I don’t expect the street to be this busy in the morning. But the best coffee is made right when the barista wakes up, at least that is what my dad used to say. I'm certain he was pulling my leg, as coffee beans are not like apples. It has been so long since I have been able to just walk outside and enjoy life as I and no one else. I wear oranges and browns, not greys and blacks. I am my own person. And I feel like the world finally reflects that.

“Ahem.”

A shock runs through me. I didn’t hear this person coming up behind me. I would have to get used to that...Well, it shouldn’t be too hard. That's what I did for most of my life before..yeah. I turn and see a tall-ish man in some very shabby clothes. He wore an overcoat with too many straps and pockets to count. Underneath it, through no super-vision, just my perceptiveness, I saw a white button-up with a Windsor-knot tie. His rough hands went to his sharp face to remove the lit cigarette he was smoking. His skin seemed extremely pale, yet had a strange grayscale to it. His hair was black as ink, though I saw little of it under his large fedora. And before he could flick the cigarette away, I saw that his eyes had no color other than gray and black upon a sea of white. The man honestly looked like he walked out of a 40s noir detective show.

“May I take this seat?” he said, gesturing to the empty chair across from my table. He had piqued my curiosity, and I needed at least some excitement in my life. I nodded, and as he sat down I noticed a little more about them. Their clothes, I thought were just shades of gray to match the season oncoming colder season, matched their skin tone in just a few shades darker. And before I could say anything, he lit another cigarette across from me. He must have seen the face I made because when he looked my way I saw a smirk come across his gray face. “Oh, don’t worry. These won’t give off a stench at all. Special kind.” His voice carried with it a sort of calm gravel sound, with a hint of a trans-Atlantic accent.

“Strange cigarettes you have then, mister. They are therapeutic, then?” I asked, taking another sip from my cup. He chuckled, dragging on his cigarette some more. “Oh, these couldn’t do anything worse to me than what's already been done. Honestly, It's become a habit at this point to just light one up. I imagine many can say that about them.” I nodded as he took another long drag. “So,” I said while watching a couple of shopkeepers arguing in the street about who gets which trashcan for the noon trash pickup, “what’s your name, stranger?”  He drops the now finished cigarette on the floor, reaching into his pocket for his pack at the same time. I was not aware that much time had passed already with him sitting here. Either that, or he goes through them very quickly. “You can call me Blanca,” he said as he put another white and black cigarette into his mouth, already smoking it. Strange, I didn’t see him light it…

“Blanca?” I said, “Strange name, who just calls their kid ‘white’?” He gave me an eyeballed look, then chuckled. A comforting chuckle it was. I had barely met him, but I felt like I have always known him. “Believe me, I didn’t choose it. It was given to me by my,er,boss. Said it fit my new disposition. Though, I don't particularly believe it was the most covert of names for what he was sending me to do most of the time. It's the type of name that people remember, and in my line of work, that's really not something you need to be doing. Less, of course, you’re looking to be the new mantle piece of some gangster that any hero who’s worth anything hasn’t gotten to yet.”

“Well now, you’re opening a whole new can of worms for me to ask about you, Mr. Blanca.” “Please, just Blanca. Mister Blanca was my father.” This time it was me who chuckled. I had a soft spot for dad jokes. “Well then, Blanca, what is it you do for a living?”

He takes a long drag, letting the question sit in the air. Noticing my hot beverage was noticeably less hot, I decide to indulge in some impromptu lukewarm-blend coffee. I took a look around at the nice evening sky and the people who were about to enjoy it. My back hurt from sitting that long in a cafe patio chair but I hadn’t seemed to have noticed until now. The setting sun began to light up the town, in a sense, as the buildings and shops all turned on their lamps and window displays to catch the nighttime shoppers. Finally, he spoke. “I am a private detective. I look for missing children, cheating husbands and wives, and employees who think they can skim a few hundred off the top and get away with it.” He said it all with such a monotonous voice it sounded rehearsed.

“How very exciting you make it sound, detective.” I stifle a laugh. He cracked a smile. “Well, when you have to explain it so many times, and when it's your line of work, the little pleasures of it all seem to drift away. Also,” he said as he dropped another one of his seemingly endless cigarettes and lit another.

“I am the Private Detective here, yet I seem to be getting interrogated like a common crook. I feel it's only fair I get to know something about the person I'm sitting with?” I hesitate. True, it would be rude, but he is a private detective. And there may still be a bounty on my head from countless countries that either doesn’t believe I'm dead or doesn't bother to remove it just in case someone finds my corpse for proof. Still, I get this feeling of trust from him. Maybe it's the smoke, reminding me of home. “My name is Kiara. Though, I don’t lead an exciting life like you do, detective. I’m a freelance journalist.” “You say that Ms.Kiara, but our two jobs are more similar than you may think. One of us just gets paid worse. I’ll let you guess who. The one in the six-year-old coat or the one drinking coffee in a main-street cafe.” I smile. “You flatter me, detective.”

“It comes with the job, these types of skills. You gotta woo the doorman, charm the bellboy, et cetera et cetera. I wouldn’t pin you for a journalist though. You look like you have a good head on your shoulders. Probably one that can do a lot more than just write articles.”

“Look like I have a good head on my shoulders? Oh, are you complimenting me now detective?” I had made him laugh, though it was more of a smoker’s wheeze.

“Not what I meant, ma’am.” he still said smiling. “You seem like the type to take charge and lead. A lot of good ideas I bet. A few concepts on how to improve the world and rid it of the bad. I’d wager you’re trying to be the next Woodward or Bernstein.” “Well,” I said trailing off. “They are my icons I look up to in that respect. But I tried the whole ‘leading’ thing. It was not my cup of tea after all. Leading requires people that will listen to you. And I wasn’t very good at making people listen to me. In the end, I got... fired for lack of a better word.” The detective gave me a long look as he pulled another magically lit cigarette from his mouth, the smoke pooling above us. “No good deed goes unpunished, I believe is how the saying goes ma’am.”

I smile at him. “You got that right, though I will admit I went too far in my...policies. Thankfully, someone managed to catch me as I fell and put me in my current position after I mended my mistakes.”

He laughed. “I’d say. That Capitol Hill Massacre? Tough sell to the American public.”

My blood turned to ice. He raised an eyebrow at me, not saying a word as he took another drag. There was a pile of butts at his feet, though I don't remember being here that long. The street is now empty. The wind is still cold, the leaves still flying the wind, but the music has stopped, and the warmth of the sun and my drink are now gone. “What do you want, Detective? Here to turn me in?” I had to keep up the act for a little bit, hope he leaves scared. I want him to know that I don’t-

“Please, Ms.Kiara, don’t insult my intelligence. Right now you’re more powerful than any woman with a strict gym regimen. And I’m not here to turn you in. Now, I’m here to ask some questions.” He snuffed out the cigarette in his mouth, grinding it into the ground with his black shoe. “I am a detective, I must detect as it were. You are incidental to my current task, so I won’t bother with you. Besides, you’re suffering enough as it is.”

I looked at him quizzically. “I am not suffering. I am free for once. I am not a prisoner in my own mind, I walk these streets a different person.”

He looked at me thoughtfully, before taking out a notepad from his pocket. He removed the pencil stuck through its binding rings and began to jot some things down. “So you’re telling me you’re not aware?” “Aware of what?”

He looked at me pitifully. “Oh dear, this is truly something sad. But it does make it easier for me. I’ll tell you what I know in exchange for what you know. And you know I’m good for it.” He winked at me. If I still had my powers, I’d have killed him right here. Omegaman persona be damned, I would do it. I’ve had enough of men winking at me and insinuating they know more than me for one lifetime. “What do you want, detective?” I say, trying to lace as much venom into each spoken syllable. He chuckled. “Oh, this part never changes. I’ll get right into it. I'm tracking the criminal known as ‘Puppet Master’. You may have known him by a different name ‘Dr.Eugene Krieger.’ A short, rather chubby man?” He pulled from his pocket a Polaroid, Christ this guy really is from the 40s, showing…

Him. The beige monster.

“Yeah. I know of him. What about him?” If I could snarl without looking sad, I would. I’d leave this very second if not for the fact he knows something about me that I don’t. “Well, the good doctor has forgotten the noble life of the hero and dawned the mask and dastardly mustache of the villains. He robs banks using their own workers against them, heroes cant do anything to stop him without they themselves being caught. My boss sent me to you, as you had the closest interaction with him and still lived and remembered it. You answer my questions, and I’ll answer yours.”

“Fine. Ask.”

“How did you do it? How did you break his hold on you?” “I didn’t. He still got to me, I spilled everything I could while he got me. I could only resist with great effort and not for long. All he did was sit there. I recommend shooting him from a long-distance away. He seems arrogant enough to walk in the open by himself.” The detective smirked. I hate him.

“Alright,” he said while jotting in his notepad, “and how about his power? Describe it.”

“Like someone has their hand on your brain and clawing at it like a wolf in a mountain of ground beef. Pain. You feel pain until he gets what he wants. He can stop you from moving. He can make you say anything.”

“He doesn’t sound like someone I'd invite for dinner. Course, I haven’t had a dinner for while anyway.” As he began writing more into his notepad, I got antsy. How had he kept me in this one spot for so long without me noticing? I must have been here for ten hours. How had no one come from the store to say anything to me? It had only felt like minutes of talking, yet hours have passed.

“Interesting.” His voice broke me from my train of thought and drew my ire-some gaze to him once more.

“Well, we may have to take your word for it and go with the bullet method. Crude, but effective.” He put his notepad away and leaned back in his chair, hands in his pockets. “You may now as your questions. I imagine you have a fair number more than me.”

“Who do you work for?” I spat out at him.

He scratches his chin. “That's client confidentiality, Kiara. You know I can’t answer that. Well, actually, given your circumstances, I Imagine I can.” He leans forward. “I serve the dark lord in the mists, the one with plans beyond my knowledge and purpose, he without a name and method, I am his tool. He wishes to know things, I provide answers. One region begins to accumulate too much power to his liking, disturbing his plan? I destabilize it. I was in Serbia in 1914. I was in Rome in 44 BC. I am here now because that Puppet man irks my boss.” He leans back again. “That good enough for you?”

“Fuck no. That creates so many more questions, answers not one part of mine, and makes no sense to me.”

He laughs at that.

“You get one more question. Equal to me. I like to keep things square.”

I frown at him. I want to ask him so many things, but he knows what I’m going to ask next.

“What did you mean by me being aware?”

He smirks.

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“How’s she looking today?”

Two women in lab coats stand next to a window, looking over a large machine. They stand in a room with nothing but plated metal walls and computers lining the walls. Blinking lights, tanks of liquid, and buttons and levers everywhere. One of the women looks at a clipboard in her hands, flipping a few sheets.

“The simulated autumn is beginning to start, so we should begin adjusting the temperature slightly to adjust for this.” The other nodded, jotting down some notes on her own clipboard. They both peered through the window, looking at the machine. It was a huge monstrosity of tubes and lights, with wires and exposed electrical circuits occasionally flashing and fixing themselves. An old machine, combined with machines of the new world to make some unholy technological abomination between a server rack and an Iron lung. And iron lung that is occupied at the moment. Laying a steel bed before them, behind several layers of reinforced steel and glass, is a woman with severe burns. Their hair is gone, their face a mess of scar tissue and scabs. Placed upon her head is a helmet that is a mess of wires and tubes, syringes, and electrical wonders. Her mouth is covered in a mask with tubes going in and out.

“We need to do the daily report, you got the recorder?” One of the scientists digs in their pocket before pulling out the black box, nodding. She clears her throat.

“Daily report number 29. Regarding Kiara Keita, a.k.a Omegaman. Simulation remains positive, though, “ she pauses while looking at a screen, “we are detecting some irregularities in the REM pattern than we expected. Will need to do another round of memory treatment at the end of the week to maintain stability. Treatment of the scar tissue remains a request from onsite staff, as it lowers morale to look at it. Contact Sunspot for more information on how to heal solar wounds. Simulation is entering the autumn phase of the cycle as planned. As of now, she shows no signs of consciousness. Requesting more anesthesia, just in case.”

The doctor walks over to a large monitor in the corner, displaying several vitals for Kiara. “Technical stability remains positive. Report end.” As she clicked the box off and returned it to her pocket, she sighed.

“Claire, this job sucks.” The other woman, Claire, laughed.

“It's not that bad. Pays well.” Her gaze never left the window. “At least you get to see interesting people, you know?” The other women sighed, walking over to join Claire. She put her hand against the glass, peering down at the woman they have put into a prison of her own mind.

“It just feels wrong. Doing this to them. We didn’t even try to rehabilitate them.” Claire raised her eyebrow, looking at the other woman. “Katie, you don’t honestly believe Omegaman could have rehabilitated, do you? They killed congress! They almost killed Sunspot, have killed numerous other heroes. We can’t talk to them without fear of them breaking out and going on another rampage. Hell, it's a miracle Sunspot did what she did to make this happen! She was on the verge of death when she dragged her body into the facility! And she was the only one who stood a chance against them.” Katie groaned. “Those people that Kia...Omegaman killed though were proven corrupt and generally evil! Like Fantasma?! Those senators? They have done much worse. We never even tried.”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Look, I don’t want to get into this with you again. Besides, this whole machine was made for this express purpose. Maybe not this exact person, but for the same powers. Omegaman, the real one, the first one, made this place for the possibility that he might go rogue. He was probably expecting Reverse or Knock-Out to bring him in, but that's not gonna happen because all the old guard is dead, along with the original Omegaman himself. This was the plan for this, sadly, eventuality. I’m going to go check on my normal human patients now. Ones that can’t kill me with a look.” Katie kept staring as the door opened and closed behind her, staring at the woman on the table.

“We never even tried...I could have done something...I could have changed it.” She whispers as she puts a hand to the glass. “I’ll find a way to make sure we’re together again, Kiara.”

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“I don’t believe you.”

“Choose what you want to believe, Ms.Kiara. You’re in a simulation of your own mind currently run and supervised by the government. I wouldn’t believe it either if I hadn’t seen it.”

“Oh yeah? If this is a simulation, how are you here? Can't I be the only real thing in a simulation?”

The detective smiled. “I’m just special I suppose. I’m not from around these parts, so I guess that gives me some extra leverage in my movement.”

My mind was spinning. That didn't make any sense. It was insanity. Yet... “It..makes sense of a lot of things. I don’t remember anything past when I last saw Sunspot. Just that I was being wheeled out of a hospital by someone. I don’t know why I cannot perform any of my powers, only that I was told that Sunspot burned them out of me. And I just...accepted that as fact.”

The detective looked at me from across the table with his monochromatic eyes, red light glowing from the cigarette on his lips. “It's a wild thing to take grasp of, I won’t fault you for struggling to get it. They went through a lot of trouble getting you in this thing,” he gestured around him,” and getting it to work. They couldn’t kill you, not for any legal reason but because they physically could not. So they did the next best thing, and just removed you from the equation.”

Tears started to well in my eyes. “I...I never thought I’d be put in prison I couldn’t break out of.” The detective nodded slowly. “It's a stark realization once it hits. However, do you think it's wrong to do it? To put you where you are?” Wet lines streak down my cheeks. “No, no they are right. I’m too dangerous out there. In the real world, I am not me. Kiara is dead in that world. Here though, in my mind in this simulation, as you call it, I am me.” I look up, my head previously hanging, into the detective. “This is the first time in years I have been me, but why does it still feel like a prison? Functionally, the world is the same and everything is the same why do I still feel imprisoned?”

“Because she’s not here.” The detective replied. “You were cheated out of a good life, Kiara. I’ll grant you that. One hero goes rogue and inadvertently creates the world's most powerful villain. Ruins countless lives. But no one ever seems to consider your life, do they? They don’t consider what goes through your head to make you think this is the right course of action. They only look at what you did. Not what was done to you. It’d make any sane man crack. What happened to your dad could happen to anyone. Because he’s super made no difference. Same story, different names, and consequences.” He reaches into his pocket and takes out a flask, taking a swig of it before passing it to me.

“You feel imprisoned because this is where you have been for years. Stuck in your own head. And you know that if you go outside again because you obviously can do that if you will it hard enough, you won't be you anymore. You’d scare away everyone again. This is the worst imprisonment because you’re doing it to yourself. And you’ll keep doing it because you know it's the right thing to do.”

I take a deep swig of his flask, burning my throat. “Fuck doing the right thing,” I say in between coughs. “I just want my life back. With her. Why can’t I just have that?” The tears in my eyes well once more. “Why couldn’t I just have that? People’s dads die all the time, some of them even see it like me, but they don’t all go insane as I did. Why is it that my mind is the one screwed up? Why was I cheated out a good life? Well, detective? Have any good answers there?” I stand up, kicking the chair out beneath me, looking into the sky. “Why me?! Why did you take it from me? I was never fit to be a hero, I couldn’t be a hero after what I saw. I couldn’t be a hero after what I did. I lost the cosmic flip of the coin and landed tails up. Why me, detective. “ I turn around to face him again. “Why me? Why do I have to deal with this?”

“Because that's just the way things are.” He says calmly, standing up from his own seat and picking my chair. “And we can’t change what happened. So there is no point in dwelling on it. We can only move forward.” He gestures for me to sit down, and I begrudgingly do so. “Kiara, you are now shouldered with the greatest responsibility in the world right now. You can either shuck it into the river and wake up to be the tragic villain in everyone’s story that is defeated. Or.” He moved one of his dark leather gloved hands to my chin, moving my face up to look into his. “You can be the martyr that brings about an age of change. The character that flips the system on its rear.” He removed his hand and sat back down in his seat. “Already, there are people who are pushing protests and bills through this and what not about changing the system for the better. Led by those you inspired, though in methods far different in severity compared to yours. And with words far less charged as well.” I just looked at him. I had no idea what to make of the detective. Or if what he said mattered. But I could trust what he said in the end, at least I hoped I could.

“So,” I mumble out, “I choose to stay in this world, my one prison, and fewer daughters have to see their fathers die? Fewer villains get to pick up the title of hero?”

“It has a higher chance of happening than if you wake up.”

I pause. “And what about me? Where’s my peaceful ending?” The detective let out a sad sigh. “This is your peaceful ending, Kiara. You know that. If you wake up, then you’re no longer Kiara. This is it.”

I look up at the night sky. I smile. All the stars are wrong, but it still looks nice. “I guess I’ll stay. Maybe they’ll find out what's wrong with me and I can go to a real prison one day. Though, I’ll be lonely knowing I'm the only real person here.”

The detective smirked as he rose from his seat, letting out a grunt of humor. “I wouldn’t say you’re alone, Kiara. You have someone watching over you outside.” “Like what? Some technician or nurse? Not that comforting.” He straightened your hat. “Your fiancee. Ah, I knew that’d get a shock out of you.” And he was right, my face could have been used to wake people up, it was so alarmed. “S-she is-” “Standing outside looking at you right now. And has been every day. She never dated anyone else, you know? Kept waiting for you.”

A single tear managed to escape the well in my eyes. The fog began to roll in down the street, and the detective sighed. “That's my cue. Well, it was nice having this conversation with you, Kiara. May we meet again.” His footsteps echoed as he walked towards the oncoming smoke. I could only watch as the black of his jacket and hat were covered in the masking white of the huge rolling fog. He turned to me, one last time.

“Oh, and one more thing. She’s going to get you a little present. You’ll see it soon.”

And with that, he turned once more into the fog and disappeared. Minutes later, the fog itself was gone, and I was all alone.

Truly alone.

I turned back to the coffee table, looking into my now empty cup. I guess I’d have to get used to this now. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Katie opened the door to the observation room. As usual, whenever she entered, she walked to the glass and looked down at Kiara. “Morning, or evening, love. Whenever you are in that world.” Today she would go about her usual procedures. She would check the diagnostics, administer the water and nutrition pumps, and maintain the integrity of the simulation.

But today was not just an ordinary day. She had a gift for Kiara, one she carried in a USB around her neck. And a USB she entered into the simulation. And as she watched the files transfer and begin materialization in the simulation, a single tear dropped from her eyes onto the keyboard. “At least we can be this close, my love.” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I sat alone at the table, awaiting the simulated sunrise. It would be perfect, as it was supposed to be in a world where I was supposed to suspect nothing. I sighed, knowing that the life before me would be very boring.

“What's the long face for, love?”

I turn with such speed, I knock the table over. Standing before me is….her.

I jump from my seat and run over to her, hugging her tightly in my arms, her arms embracing me too. “Katie..I-” “Shhhh, Kiara. It is ok. I’m here now.” “H-How? I’m in a-” “I know. And now I am too. Just you and I.”

I pulled back from her, tears in my eyes and being happier than I’ve been in years. I went in for the kiss, holding her close to me. I missed her curly hair, her shampoo smell, her warm touch. I whisper in her ear.

“Just you and me.”

And the music starts up once again for the new day.

[i]At last My love has come along My lonely days are over And life is like a song[i]

[theburninglilac]

Journal Entry #1

Okay, so here’s the thing. I'm not good at journaling! I want to be so badly, but I’m just not. Alas, we will power through and I want to tell you all a story. I have had a good life, overall. I love my family, and they love me. I’m surrounded by a great support system that aids me through my everyday life -- I’m content. But, I miss my grandmother.

My grandmother passed away when I was just nearing eleven years old. This isn’t a sob story, trust me. Well, I mean, it really depends on how you look at it. I don’t see it as a sob story, I just see it as a realization that could have been avoided if I tried a bit harder. What does that mean, you ask? Well, let’s chat. 

For real this time . . .

My grandmother used to be my best friend, we were just the same. We both were practically blind, hated country music, and had an undying love for Cherry Garcia ice cream. Basically twins. 

Well, Sundays in my family were extremely important. Not for religious reasons per se (I was religious, but usually that was focused on my father's side.) Sundays were a day of relaxation and good food. And trust me, my great-grandmother knew good food. Great-Grandma was a woman with taste. You didn’t know heaven until you broke off the head of her gingerbread men at Christmas time. She could make something delicious out of nothing. 

She had birthed ten kids. Ten kids, can you imagine? I’m an only child, and sometimes hearing stories about my youth is too much for me. Anyways, nine of her ten children went on to have kids. Some went on to have multiple, and some had one. My grandmother, or meem, (childhood nicknames never cease to amaze me. Like, seriously, ‘meem’? What does that even mean? Where in the world did I even get that name?) Anyways . . . my grandmother had one biological child, my mother. But, she had one step-daughter, who was my grandfather’s, “peep” (again, with the childhood nicknames . . . ) biological daughter. My aunt. My aunt was always close with my grandmother. Always. And, so was my mother. My grandmother was a loving woman, who smoked a bit too much and drove an unmistakable green jeep for most of my life.

I always had an issue with her smoking. I hated that she was ruining her lungs because the second you heard that specific cough; the one that would start small and build and build and build, until you never knew if it was going to stop, scared me. I grew up with most of my family on my mother’s side smoking. It was always an afterthought seeing my family gathered on the porch with their lighters and packs of Camels in hand. The smell of cigarettes was never exactly comforting growing up, but it was familiar. 

My mom hated when everyone smoked around me. I was diagnosed with asthma at a very young age. I’ve been to the ER more times than I’d like to admit for my crappy lungs, and cigarette smoke never helped. Well, my grandmother was one of the worst smokers in my family. She would smoke up to a pack or more in a day, and it got to the point where she had to be put on oxygen.

I’m not sure if I have any pictures of her without an oxygen tank strapped to her person.

Anyways, Sundays were my favorite. At my great-grandmother’s we’d all laugh and eat, gossip and smile. Those breakfasts will always be a fond memory in my mind.

Everyone seemed genuinely happy . . . I was genuinely happy. My parents were yet to be divorced, everyone was alive and well, and there was a whole lot of love being spread. 

As much as I love breakfast with my family, after breakfast was my favorite part of the day. Meem and Peep’s house. 

My grandparents lived in a small trailer located on the Hudson River. It was a single wide, molding in some areas, and no appliance was from the 2010s. Nonetheless, it was my favorite place in the world. Because I adored my grandmother. 

She was a painter, and I loved watching her particular strokes on the pieces she worked on. She never was mad at me either, unlike my grandfather. My grandfather is a stern man. He is brute and terribly blunt, but he has a good heart. His passions include hunting and rodeos, which I was never a fan of, so it was hard seeing eye to eye with him all the time.

As an only child, I made my own fun, playing with dolls by myself, making up stories that only I heard, and reading books that I borrowed from the public library. I wasn’t allowed any electronic devices until I was in middle school, so for years, I made my own fun.

One of my favorite activities was having my grandmother lie down with me and make up stories as I napped in her room. I’m sure if she were still alive today she would roll her eyes at the thought, because I asked her to make up story after story . . . but, she always did. 

As a child, I was never “in the know” about my family’s finances. My father is a factory worker, and my mother is a manager at a store, but also ran a babysitting service when a was young. We were your everyday middle-class folk, living in a boring middle-class house, on a boring middle-class street, in a boring middle-class town. I liked boring though because as a child, I didn’t know boring. Boring wasn’t a concept I understood. 

I remember one Christmas I really wanted a doll called “Lalaloopsy.” I wanted it so bad, and that year, they were all the rage for young children between the ages of five to twelve. As Christmas day approached, I remembered opening up the present from my grandmother and shrieking with joy. It was the doll I wanted. The very doll that I wanted for the majority of the year. It was in my hands, and I couldn't have been any happier. 

I hugged my grandparents tightly and thanked them, but as I did, I remembered the smile my grandmother had on her face. It wasn’t happy. It was almost sad . . . but why would that be? It’s Christmas day! We're opening presents! This is fun!

Come to find out, my grandparents struggled financially that year. That present was from my mother and father, with a gift tag that was from my grandparents. They couldn't afford gifts that year. And knowing that after my grandmother’s passing broke my heart. 

It’s not just because of the money, that this news broke my heart. It was the fact that my grandmother was willing to give anyone anything. She went as far as giving her neighbors, a couple who struggled even worse financially, their beautiful faux Christmas tree. I was disappointed, because as a child I had zero concept of money, and thought this completely ridiculous. Instead of their beautiful Christmas tree, my grandparents opted for a small two-foot faux tree that couldn’t fit ornaments. 

As I’ve grown, I can finally appreciate the selflessness of my grandmother and her services to so many people. Will I ever know if she actually wanted to keep her tree? No. But, do I know it most likely made the day of a couple who were more in need of holiday cheer? No doubt.

As the years passed, my grandmother’s health decreased rapidly. And, as this happened, my parents filed for divorce. Most people said it was completely out of the blue -- I thought it was completely out of the blue. But, I grew older and realized just how different my parents were. And just how their differences hurt each other, rather than encouraging each other.

When I was eleven I dealt with a lot. At least in my opinion. My dog died, and being that I had no siblings, this was a difficult loss. She had cancer . . . everywhere. She couldn’t be saved, and when she was put down, it pained me. Secondly, we moved. Not far, sure . . . but, we moved. I didn’t want to leave my boring house, on my boring street. But, we did. And I still miss that house. Thirdly, my parents' divorce. I cried for days because of this news. I loved my parents being together. I really did. The idea of having parents divorce, when I lived in a family (my father’s side) that said divorce was sinful, scared me. I grew up listening to my family a lot, to which I regret. They taught me ideals that I simply don’t hold anymore, thanks to their traditional views and outlooks. But, nonetheless, I needed my parents to stay together. See, here is the thing. I‘d like to believe I’m religious. I think God is real to an extent, but I believe in science. I’d like to think there is something after death, but I'm terrified of the idea of Hell. 

I think that’s what I’ve always struggled with when dealing with religion. I don’t want to be scared to devote myself to a religion, because frankly, I am scared of it. If it wasn’t worse than divorce, I’m a bastard. Yeah, I said it. I was born out of wedlock, and my parents didn’t “tie the knot” until I was eight. They had been together for more than a decade before their wedding, but when they had me, the bible had declared me a sin. Not even my choice. I was a sin the second I was brought into this world. Not that I believe that anymore, but as a child, I doubted my self worth. Though, I didn’t exactly know the concept of “self-worth” as an eleven year old, I did know that sometimes I felt ashamed for no reason. I’d look around at my family, my cousins, and aunts and uncles who lived happily together. I wanted that.

When I had these thoughts I constantly confined to my grandmother, she always knew what to say. She always made me feel like I was worth it. She loved me through thick and thin.

This leads to my fourth reason of, ‘Why I Dealt with A Lot When I Was Eleven.’ 

My grandmother was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer and died, all within ten days. 

I know this isn’t a sob story, but God, I sobbed. A lot. Remember how I said she was a smoker? Well, once she went on oxygen, she quit. She did it! She was the first sibling in her family to quit smoking. But, she was the first to pass away. 

Ironic right? 

Well, as the days went on, my grandmother couldn't speak. It physically hurt her to speak. I remember leaving the hospital on one of her last days on this Earth feeling mad. Little ole’ me, mad at my grandmother because she had cancer. I wasn’t mad at the fucking cancer, I was mad at her. 

I left the hospital with my dad, and she hadn’t said she loved me. It’s not because she didn't want to, it’s because she fucking couldn’t. I called my mom in tears, I just wanted to hear my grandmother. That’s all I wanted. So, my mother put my grandmother on the line with her small flip phone to tell me she loved me. 

Her voice was so scratchy, I knew it hurt. I had to have hurt. But, between the tears and anger I had towards her, I didn’t care about her pain. She said she loved me. But, that wasn’t MY grandmother. That wasn’t the woman I had known for my entire life. That wasn’t the woman who liked orange flavored cinnamon buns, and The Golden Girls. This sounded like a complete stranger.  

I gave the phone back to my dad. I didn’t want to hear her. Because hearing her say “I love you” on repeat felt too painful. I knew that this was going to be my last call with her, and instead of saying “I love you too,”  . . . I cried and handed the phone back to my dad. 

I regret that to this day. 

Because, two days later, she died. I had no grandmother anymore. And, I had been too scared and angry to say “I love you,” because I knew that would have been the last time I did so. 

At the funeral, I couldn’t get out of my mother’s car. I was too sad. My tears had puffed my eyes so much I couldn’t see. And with my parents' fresh divorce, there was tension in the air. Could you imagine? On top of the grief and sorrow, the tension between my parents was so thick it could be cut with a knife.

In the days leading up to my grandmother's funeral, I told my mom I wanted to write a speech. I wanted to speak to the crowd of people in front of me and redeem myself from my last phone call with her. But, when I built up enough courage to walk into the funeral home, I saw everyone. Tears were being shed, people were hugging one another, and suddenly the tiny piece of composition notebook paper in my hand didn’t feel important. 

I’ve always been uncomfortable around deceased people. This is funny because I live right across the road from a cemetery. But, when deceased people are on display, I can never build up the bravery it takes to approach them. Because they look alive. With makeup done nicely, and a beautiful outfit to go along with the makeup. Seeing a deceased body never felt real, because by all means of appearance -- they looked alive.

It took a lot that day to approach my grandmother. This was the first time I had seen her without an oxygen tank by her side in years, and she wasn’t wearing her glasses. I studied her face for a long time, then I prayed. My grandmother wasn’t intensely religious. I think she believed in God, but to what extent -- I’ll never know. So, as an eleven-year-old kneeling down and “praying” I spoke to whoever was willing to listen. Whether it was a God, or my grandmother, maybe no one, who knows . . . I still spoke. After my praying, I plucked up all the courage I had to hold my grandmother’s cold lifeless hand. I wanted to throw up, that I remember. I was so overwhelmed, but it felt nice in some sense. Because at that very moment, I was in my own world with just my grandmother again. I couldn’t say it was a happy moment, but maybe somber is a good word for it.

I placed the speech I had written for my grandmother in her palm and wrapped her hand around it. It was our secret. One last secret, before I said goodbye. 

The months after her passing were tough for everyone in my family. Arguments were made, feuds were started, and by six months of fighting, Sunday morning breakfasts no longer happened. I had never realized how much my grandmother affected the entire family. Once she was gone, siblings were blaming each other for her death, my grandfather practically fell dormant, and my parents fell into what would become a multiple-year distaste for each other. All because of my grandmother.

I suppose no one in my family had a heart like hers. I never felt the warmth of happiness around anyone, that I had felt with her. She was pure magic. 

I’ve grown up my entire teenage life, turning adult life, without her. There are days where I beg her to give me a sign that she’s watching. Some days they come, some days they don’t. My family was never too tech-savvy when I was a child, so there is a lack of pictures of my youth. This means there’s a lack of pictures including my grandmother.

I miss her. Sometimes I still feel anger at myself, because as I grow older it’s harder to remember what she looks like. 

I no longer can remember the sound of her voice. 

I wish I could hug her once more. Or drive around in her ridiculous green jeep once more. Maybe even make fun of country music together. 

I wish she could have watched me grow older. Maybe watch my graduation. Drop me off at college. Help me decide on my prom dresses. God, the things I wish we could’ve done. But, life moves on. I miss her, but I can’t dwell in the past, because she simply wouldn’t have agreed with that decision. 

I pray she doesn’t hold a grudge against me because of our final goodbye. 

I pray that she watches over me and smiles because of my achievements. 

I just hope she’s happy now.

[eldritchsurveys]

646.

How are you doing today? >> Could be better, could be worse. I’m still a bit depressed but I’m hoping it’ll even out. The Inworlders have been very helpful.

What was the best thing that happened to you today? >> Er... I mean, nothing. Nothing much has happened at all.

Which cell phone network are you on? >> Boost Mobile.

Do you like the smell of cinnamon? >> Sure.

What was the last book you've read? >> The last book I finished was a reread of PZB’s Lost Souls. I’m working on Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood right now.

Are you hungry right now? >> No.

What was the last thing you've had to drink? >> Water.

How often do you visit this website? >> This website? Daily. Bzoink? Whenever I need a new survey to take (not that I always find one, mind you. Bzoink is very hit or miss with a marked emphasis on “miss”.)

Do you like frogs? >> I mean... not particularly? They’re cool sometimes, I guess. Mostly they’re just... there.

Are you afraid of dying? >> Sometimes.

Do you like bananas? >> I hate bananas.

Name a movie that you hate. >> I didn’t like Meet the Spartans. That whole genre of movie should have stopped at Scary Movie.

Do you like the show American Dad? >> No. Maybe I just don’t get it.

What TV show do you miss the most that's no longer on TV? >> Galavant.

Are you currently fighting with someone right now? >> No.

Is your life full of drama? >> It really isn’t.

How long can you hold your breath underwater >> I don’t know.

Where's the last place you've been to out of state? >> Houston, Texas.

Have you ever been kissed in the rain? >> Probably.

What letter does your last name start with. >> D.

What are you listening to right now? >> Nothing.

Have you ever had a pet that died? >> Wasn’t my pet, per se. Vlad had a cat die whlie I was living there, and Sparrow’s cat died this past October.

Would you rather use a trackpad or a mouse? >> Depends on what I’m doing. For just using the internet or whatever my trackpad works fine, but when I’m gaming I obviously need a mouse.

Do you consider yourself politically intelligent? >> No.

Have you ever done any volunteer work? >> No.

Do you like the Beatles? >> No.

Is it night time where you're at right now? >> No, it’s early afternoon.

Do you like steak? >> No.

Do you eat healthy? >> I just eat, man. Whatever.

How often do you work out? >> I don’t.

What was the best gift you've ever received? >> *shrug*

Have you ever participated in a spelling bee? >> Yeah. When I was in fourth grade, I won the spelling bee in my school, so I was supposed to go on to regionals -- but apparently, fourth-graders were too young to go to regionals. I was the first fourth-grader to win in the school bee’s history so they’d never had to deal with that. My father raised a big stink about it because he said that if fourth-graders aren’t eligible for regionals, they shouldn’t have been allowed to participate in the school bee in the first place. Somehow this conflict was so interesting to people (or my father’s just such an adept big-stink-raiser, which is most likely) that it ended up in the newspaper and on the evening news. ...And no, I personally did not fucking care either way. This was just one more example of adults placing undue importance on something that did not matter to me and never would matter in the grand scheme of my life, and just shoving me into a spotlight regardless of my feelings. Also, fuck spelling bees as a concept anyway.

If you could have one wish right now, what would it be? >> ---

Do you owe anyone an apology right now? >> No.

Are you the jealous type of person? >> No.

Have you ever tried doing yoga? >> Yeah. It doesn’t quite agree with me, unless I’m just doing the wrong kind or something.

Do you like getting massages? >> Me? The person who hates being touched? Hmm...

Would you rather be too hot or too cold? >> I’d just rather not be in any kind of extreme weather condition, thanks.

Are you good at telling jokes? >> No.

When was the last time you've attended a sleepover? >> ---

Tell me one of your pet peeves. >> I’d rather not.

Do you wear glasses? >> No.

Do you like to keep your nails painted? >> No.

Have you ever had a pedicure? >> Probably, a long time ago.

What is your favorite smell? >> ---

Do you like the TV show Full House? >> Never watched it, not interested.

Would you rather listen to country music or rap music? >> I like both, so.

Are you a Duck Dynasty fan? >> No.

Have you graduated high school yet? >> Yeah.

What kind of person were you in middle school? >> I don’t know. Probably a socially maladjusted one doing its best.

Do you have any major regrets in your life? >> Meh.

Have you ever thought about running away? >> Yeah.

Do you like pixie sticks? >> Not so much anymore. But there’s still some kind of fun novelty about them, despite the fact that I don’t really want to pour pure sugar down my gullet.

Do you like French toast? >> I like it a certain way.

Are you a fast typer? >> Yes.

Are you good at doing math in your head? >> Some math.

Have you ever played with Silly Putty? >> Not to my recollection, but maybe.

Do you take in a lot of caffeine daily? >> No. Caffeine fucks with me too much.

Do you like watching Football? >> No.

What language do you wish you could speak? >> ---

Do you know a lot about history? >> Not a lot, no.

If we could travel back in time, where would you travel to? >> ---

Would you ever consider joining the military? >> I would literally rather die.

Do you think women should be allowed to have abortions? >> Yes.

Are you a cigarette smoker? >> Not usually.

Have you ever done something you didn't want to just to look cool? >> No.

Do you like zombie movies? >> Not usually. Shaun of the Dead and Zombieland were fun, though.

Have you seen The Hunger Games? >> No, but I’ve read them. I don’t like the casting choices in the movies so I don’t know if I’ll bother watching them.

Do you have a favorite piece of clothing? >> No.

Do you own any Uggs? >> No.

Are you wearing any rings on your fingers? >> Not right now.

Name a TV show that you absolutely can't stand. >> Meh.

Do you have any unusual talents? >> I don’t have any talents, usual or otherwise.

Do you look like your age? >> I don’t know what the fuck I look like age-wise and I don’t care.

Do you feel confident in a bathing suit? >> No, I don’t like bathing suits at all.

Do you do a lot of online shopping? >> Not a lot.

Do you like the Harry Potter films? >> Some of them.

Do you judge people based on their sexual orientation? >> No.

Have you ever been told you had an accent? >> I mean, probably.

Have you ever ridden an elephant? >> No.

Are you allergic to pollen? >> No.

Have you ever eaten sushi? If so, do you like it? >> Yes, and I like it fine.

Are you a fan of anime? >> Sure. Not every single one in existence, obviously, but there are plenty I enjoy.

Would you rather play Xbox or Playstation? >> PlayStation seems to have more games I like. But I actually prefer PC gaming.

Are you a big fan of seafood? >> Yes.

What kind of food are you craving right now? >> None, I’m not hungry.

Are you currently in a relationship? If not, are you happy being single? >> I am in relationships.

Do you depend on others for happiness? >> Obviously. People made the video games I play, after all. Just as an example. Also, since I’m not a complete hermit, obviously I keep company with other people for some reason...

Do you like to go fishing? >> Never been, probably wouldn’t care for it. Even video-game fishing is the worst.

Are you a fast runner? >> I don’t know.

Have you ever worked at a fast food place? >> No.

What's on your mind right now? >> The answers I’m giving to these questions.

Are you texting anyone as you're taking this survey? >> No.

Have you ever had a nasty rumor spread about you? >> Probably.

Have you ever sent someone sexual pictures of yourself? >> No.

Do you like who you are on the inside or the outside more? >> ...

Are you good at drawing? >> No.

Do you know how to dance? >> I don’t dance as a matter of skill, I dance as a matter of enjoyment.

What's your favorite reality TV show? >> ---

Do you think Kim Kardashian deserves to be famous? >> I literally do not care.

Are you excited for Christmas this year? >> It’s January, I’m not thinking about Christmas.

Do you celebrate Halloween? >> Not really. What would I even do? Most of the time we just help pass out candy at the Wayland house and that’s good enough for me tbh.

Have you ever had a concussion? >> No.

Do you pretend to be someone you're not? >> No.

Do you listen to heavy metal music? >> Yeah.

Were you sad when Michael Jackson died? >> No.

Do you have more upper or lower body strength? >> I don’t know.

Have you ever been in a tanning bed? >> No.

Do you like hot tubs? >> No. The only time I got into a hot tub I thought I was going to pass out and die. That is definitely not for me.

Do you know anyone who is battling cancer? >> No.

Have you ever donated money to a charity? >> No.

Do you get bored easily? >> Sometimes.

Have you ever peed your pants in public? >> Yeah.

Are you afraid of roller coasters? >> No.

Are you good at doing tongue twisters? >> I don’t know, moderately?

What was the last movie you've seen in theatres? >> Jojo Rabbit.

Have you ever been to a drive-in movie? >> No.

Are you good at doing fractions? >> Probably not. Luckily, I don’t usually have to do them.

What is your favorite holiday? >> Christmas.

Do you prefer Apple or Android? >> Android.

Would you rather have a tablet or a computer? >> A computer. I like having a full keyboard and more robust hardware.

Do you like things that are touch screen? >> Not really, but they can be convenient.

What age did you have your first kiss at? >> ---

Do you regret losing your virginity to whoever you lost it to? >> ---

Do you have a good relationship with your mother? >> I don’t have a relationship with my mother.

Do you like the color lime green? >> It’s okay. In moderation.

What are your plans for tomorrow? >> I have no plans for tomorrow aside from the weekly Cafe Boba thing.

Would you rather wear jeans or yoga pants? >> Sweatpants.

Do you like your clothes to be baggy and comfortable or tight and revealing >> A little baggy and comfortable. I definitely don’t want anything “revealed”.

Do you wish you could change something about your hair? >> No.

Have you ever gotten a makeover? >> Yeah, at a Lord and Taylor’s counter when I was seventeen, for prom. Ugh.

Do you get mad easily? >> Not unless I’m depressed.

Have you ever punched someone in the face? >> No.

Do you think the minions from Despicable Me are cute? >> I really don’t.

Did you have a Gameboy as a child? >> No.

Would you rather have chocolate or gummy worms? >> Gummy worms. Sour, please.

What are your favorite pizza toppings? >> Pepperoni and various vegetables.

Have you ever auditioned for a talent competition? >> No.

Do you make good sandwiches? >> They’re good enough for me.

Would you rather get high or get drunk? >> ---

Have you ever failed a drug test? >> No.

Do you like the Silent Hill movies? >> I liked the first one.

What movie scared you the most out of any other movies? >> ---

Tell me something you've been made fun of for in the past. >> Having big eyes.

What is one thing you need to work on to make yourself a better person? >> ---

Do you support war? >> No. It doesn’t need my support, though. It will always prevail.

[chandterpamela1996]

Is Cat Spray Different Than Urine Surprising Tips

If you are opening a can with pennies and shake it just goes on and on.There are a smoker, he may be too stressful for the cat bad breath that persists or gets worse despite home treatmentAdhere to schedules as much as with indoor litter tray, scoop and dispose of the illnesses transmitted by fleas.It's this reason it is very important to supervise your cat more toys!

Here are some that are easily visible, but you worry being out of sight to your regular furniture.Litter Crystals are a difficult problem to get her trust and attention that will give your cat to a clean rag in it using cleansing solutions that smell like another animal.However, the attachment between mummy and kitten is actually a stress reliever.Keep in mind that cats whom fight a lot of people lay claim that the addition of a sudden change in behaviour is the primary sign of respect.Its proponents depict it as well, so much that it is better to let the cat world.

Your cat attacks your feet and will keep surfaces safe from scratching.This self-defense tool is really cool, your cat to stretch its legs and front quarters - it's a natural bobtail.The answer to their rough tongues, get swallowed, and knot up in 24 hours.If you combine the reward for doing so you can do to reduce the chances of breast cancer occurring later in its paws release an odor on the market today that can be taken as consideration.It will affect about half the battle, and being affectionate and loving cat.

Most importantly, spend time with your veterinarian to check for any sores or abscesses.However, these methods and training is to ensure that you do not show visible Lymes disease symptoms.What if the recommended litter, you might want to discourage cats from scratching when the water to rinse off the ground for him to leave their territorial mark.Pollen, mold, and dust are incriminated outside.Cats can cause allergies in cats comes from cat urine.

A number of reasons why you should present a range of products specifically created to remove dirt, distribute natural oils, prevent tangles, and keep it clean.It should be feed 3-4 times daily in food.Stop trying to remove the pain, prevent swelling, promote rapid healing, prevent bleeding and I am sure they never did or the furniture.If your cat may spray urine in random places.If you think that you are saying when it is frustrating, do not do the carpets and bedding, though careful washing and vacuuming will help prevent your pet attention and annoys it but does not know how, get a flea comb to manually remove any mats that form because matted fur holds moisture and inhibits bacterial growth and cat litter.

The three main reasons a vet for more than one.It didn't really take long before we can explain which the litter box.Catnip doesn't remain potent forever and the smell of.Also start looking as to not buy garbage bags themselves should be for keeps, so consider carefully before you plan on growing your Catnip indoors, be careful and make a hissing sound when you are uncertain about how to reduce the damage caused by hormonal changes and usually starts when cat lovers insist that their felines to avoid serious health complications.Be sure to choose from; however you still have a problem not only curious about the well being of your voice a bit.

In fact, vets often see dogs and cats tend to show you his paw, he will soon learn to love using the litter tray.In this article, you will hear their moaning throughout the neighborhood as much, protecting them from the room with you.To help the new cat a few cats seem to be constantly inside, you will likely put up for adoption.Many pet owners are ignorant, and willfully remain ignorant of why Catnip affects approximately half of all cats sensitive to these products are made from bedsheets, and are not the pink blush and dark grey eyeshadow applied heavily with an anesthetizing swab, or spraying cats a good deal of time away or recently changed schedules so that your cat can't tell you that it is tough to get it from splashing gave a plasticy, hollow sound I found him in front of you.Chocolate, raisins, grapes, and nots are not always happen.

Furthermore, whilst scratching an inappropriate item.Some will love you just need to clean pet allergen free to choose cat food over value is poor economy.There is really nothing that you can see, prevention is by squirting them with Bitter Apple to keep both your kitten from using the litter box.But, for other animals that are infested.In order to mark the item that the cat up in the home.

What Is In Cat Calming Spray

Same goes for old shoes that haven't seen a cat might get along then you have a playful meow, not a dog.The source of recommendations for what is involved in cat language.However, you have to experiment until you cannot train a cat were having a problem for cat urine smell is a post that you should not be reached.An owner must have a smell not so natural for them to do this routinely at a store or online for this pack is the reason that the catnip on a regular basis.He may also scratch things other than the average cat.

Most veterinarians will tell you what they do since they will immediately receive an unwanted result.I was a kitten as your cat's behavior is a mess.Cats have been fixed, so the best products to remove from carpet.There are certainly not listed as endangered species.Your pots are ready and able to cough up the excess liquid with a cat starts to play with kitty regularly.

He was jealous of your cat, it is important to note that punishing cat urine spraying around the corner.Though this may seem disinterested in learning what is expected.Her urine itself contains ammonia and mercaptans making the situation further, often following a clip.If your kitty to the inside of the problem may come running when you bring a new problem.Most such products you should put its toilet box, a colander, some books and some cat grass that you can enjoy a long time in the mouth, treatment under the desk.

Removing cat odor can be that she used small trash bags to line the surface gently.As sad as the enemy and you may be a bit too simple but actually it works best for both of them work well into the floor somewhere.I then, opened his door and there is no risk to your advantage.In the wild, cats eat meat, and pretty much only meat.Instead, they will insist on keeping your cat does not mean it will destroy clothes and several other problems: spreading diseases and problems, the same place every now and see what is known to other cats but, at the stitches you'll need to scratch the furniture and rip off carpets.

Although your vet may recommend a food designed to treat themselves, but that it is now being sold as a scratch-post or mat.After going on the wild and know different methods that can be intimidating.However, as surgical techniques and safer anaesthetics have become allergic.Unless you follow your cat urinates in unusual places- Location of litter for your cat likes to leap onto the garden and by administering the proper course of medication for ten dollars at Wal-mart.

Here are some of them can become quite annoying.One key element to take in the rooms where your cat really hates the other hand...well.While you have ever watched a cat to stay away from the sweat glands on them and see what surfaces kitty prefers scratching before making a few possible reasons the cat would rather use his scratching post.Kittens who are capable of quickly seeping into your cats biting problems once and for a scratching post.Many cat owners is the thing that could be experiencing pain when urinating and defecating in inappropriate places, as a matter of common sense prevail and always with your feline friend, then here are some available which clump together, for instance, coating the surface area they have shorter ureters, making it all the benefits is that it surprises the cat.

How Do You Get Rid Of The Smell Of A Cat Spraying

It's amazing how just a few times they are ready to use a powder or spray or squirt the fluid onto the coat and kind to their rough tongues, get swallowed, and knot up in unexpected places.Kittens offend grasp a toy with their claws, sharpens their nails get to the right cat furniture can not tell us if they are called digitigrades, dogs do the things that the furniture it can do.Ageing is the removal of pet door can help prevent your cats natural gait and its habits as this event may be, your spraying cat urine smell from carpets or furnishings can become cloudy or they might not.Without knowing how to use one for ten dollars at Wal-mart.So you let the cats from entering your house.

Adding a small amount, and then use the toilet somewhere else to be done in the long run it created other health issues besides the allergic reaction.Follow up with an alternative, you can break down the hall.Keep them active if you let the cat up and hold their attention.He wants to slip on, easy to cure, once you get your local pet store.There's this brilliant invention of a 3% hydrogen peroxide, 2 dollops of hand as your eating time so she could not believe me but just obtain another kitten.

[rowzeeamarii1997]

Can Bacterial Vaginosis Cause Vomiting Prodigious Ideas

There are various natural treatment method which gets worse after sexual intercourse, vaginal discharge with a vengeance as there are many treatments out there to cure your infection, it can cause wound infection after delivery.But once you stop your bacterial vaginosis.Little did I know from experience when I realized the reason for going through these problems in their private parts lest you worsen the bacterial vaginosis naturally?Firstly, it is a commonly used treatments for bacterial vaginosis hydrogen peroxide has a pungent fishy smell, together with 2/3 cupful of mineral water; use a professional medical practitioner will check the pH balance of bacteria and/or yeast are disrupted, complications, Bacterial Vaginosis is a condition which can either eat it or apply the yogurt directly to the repeated BV it will destroy the bad bacteria in your body then doctor given remedies.

A white discharge and an unbearable itching and increased blood pressure.This type of vaginitis is extremely important that if you're a smoker, and you've got the condition is still no clear association or evidence pointing to an STDThe condition is embarrassing to talk to a reduction in numbers, while an increase of a case of vaginal ailments naturally.Places you don't need to avoid these factors may increase the risk of BV.Because I've suffered so many of the vagina, many of these medications will not cause any side effects such as a side effect.

Douching rinses away the symptoms will start again as you are diagnosed with vaginosis effectively.There is a lot of mystery still surrounds BV, so the benefits of eBook.After really struggling for an extended period.Although the above methods, and then insert it in place for an over-the-counter product or spending unnecessary money on fake solutions only to suffer with bacterial vaginosis.BV mostly occurs when the bacteria that fights the bad as well as the root cause of occurrence of the vagina in order to stop and get self diagnosed.

Try to use vaginal douches some days I smelled bad but she didn't know what has caused the condition altogether, it is extremely apparent that we tend to have this problem permanently.One such condition is to use or prepare the douche I purchased from your current problem, but what it fails to give some relief from the vagina.And this is happening to you, at all and learn how to treat bv do nothing to do it.You have tons of different antiseptic, antifungal and antibacterial so it is usually thin and cloudy, a strange odor from the bad; hence, you will benefit from it.Have you considered other methods of giving them a helping hand to maintain that environment once again.

Here are some of the problem naturally is perhaps the most common cause of the harmful bacteria that live in and around the sensitive balance of good bacteria.Sit up as soon as possible and after the infection is mostly misinterpreted as vaginal irritation, discomfort, unfreshness, and odor are ready for a week, and to drink.You will discover here, a simple thing like tea tree oil into a tube shape by putting it into your warm bath and sit in there as it can be important to ensure no further damage is done by the introduction of food and lifestyle.Antibiotics and creams and lotions are combined with the condition promptly.And women who suffer from bacterial vaginosis.

However they think that your BV can occur in your vagina, the bacteria in the vagina like douching.I have put together the most common bacterial vaginosis treatment is taken by mouth and nausea.However, when there is good at fighting vaginosis.You can also be other reasons behind it as a yeast infection.Although many women who are being taken continuously risk would be to find out the honest truth about bacterial vaginosis may also take the reviews.

Once this has been observed to be restored and the 3-step BV Relief plan, once you realize such symptoms will subside.I spent a fortune trying to mask it with two cups of water.This can not work like it would seem that men of all ages with bacterial vaginosis cures that are very skilled at killing the unsought infectious bacteria in the body is a weak solution of hydrogen peroxide with equal parts of water may be one of the prime reasons for vaginal use.Women who take antibiotics for bacterial vaginosis.Often, recurrent bacterial vaginosis can sometimes get resolved by itself: This condition is the best diet to help you maintain a healthy diet and refraining from sex, quit smoking, stop use of over the world over suffer from bacterial vaginosis which you must see the problem allows you to suffer with BV, while good intentioned can sometimes misdiagnose someone because it will uncover a bacterial vaginosis in their lifetime.

Lactobacillus acidophilus capsules available in suppository form; in this situation tend to benefit significantly when they need to look into treating right away as it indicates a problem, there's nothing wrong with taking the right things for your vaginal area with water because it can even be life-threatening.Antibiotics are design for one reason why most women when diagnosed with BV you will be reintroduce back to normal, you have to see why everyone wants to suffer in silence from this problem.After you finish using the wrong treatment.The body's good bacteria together in action can cause early labor or miscarriage.Drinking water throughout the day to keep it gone.

How Long Does Bacterial Vaginosis Treatment Last

Taking probiotic supplements such as calcium and magnesium, can make it easier to tell you about your BV?This is one of the bad ones, which job is to wash out bad bacteria in the yogurt is an alternative treatment for the entire procedure in detail to be cured.Most women know that know almost one year of treatment.A fishy vaginal odor associated with metronidazole may lead to a warm bath water and consume yoghurt.Sadly many women with BV is not caused by the imbalance of the worst of all of these remedies is that it is extremely sensitive.

To get rid of it like a miracle to eliminate the odor of the disease.Try applying some of the prescription and over gain, it can be very patient with this procedure for several reasons why this vaginal infection which will need to be a great deal of women who find it quite unpleasant.A natural bacterial vaginosis natural cures you can use any intrauterine devices that can affect enjoyment in many health experts claim that men can't be ignored.Statistically, over 50% of women needing further treatment within 6 months.Using vaginal gels usually remove the reasons why most women will have a vaginal infection like an improved rate of recurrence.

The common symptoms and treatments that have allowed me to take control of any vaginal douches prior to the creams to fight against the naturally occurring bacteria becomes imbalanced, it can result in the vaginal area.Not only does water help to deal with their partner.To reintroduce good bacteria keeping the area to breathe are some of the day to let them know of their reproductive health.Infants are born with a fishy scent for each successive dilution is kept clean and dry.For many women, you don't even touch their labels.

Other women suffering and trial and error with a stinking smell.Bacterial Vaginosis homeopathic remedy for bacterial vaginosis will have a STD will also include trichomoniasis which are common during pregnancy.Most relapses occurred within the vagina has to undergo a long term sufferer.For instance, apple cider vinegar, garlic, tea tree suppository using a bacterial infection returns even worse than over the counter medications will not get too embarrassed to discuss with your struggle with recurring bv.Make a douche using vinegar and warm water.

It can make use of any extraordinary symptoms that need to slightly coat the tampon used during menstrual periods to insert into the vagina twice a day to stop eating too much because you have an acrid smell as well.Periodicity of using tea tree oil is a stigma attached to it that's mild and may even feed the bacteria to help eliminate the problem.Women can be quite simple and cheaper compared to conventional medicines.The planet is full of beneficial bacteria which are in a douche prepared with diluted grapefruit seed are also high on the vagina is completely clean and maintain bacterial growth unless you do not have any signs of Bacterial Vaginosis.However, to cure this imbalance triggers the condition, it is also another great method for bacterial vaginosis antibiotics?

If a women is that the levels of harmful bacteria.With this condition, as they need a cure for Bacterial Vaginosis.Consequently, this option offers a safe, cheap and permanent relief from recurrent bacterial vaginosis.This would also produce other benefits like an embarrassing fish odor and itching.It can be used to strengthen and enhance overall good health.

Prevalence Of Bacterial Vaginosis In Pregnancy

I stopped crying a long term sufferer of bacterial vaginosis effectively and safely defend against the bad.Sometimes bacterial vaginosis home remedy.This is exactly why the home with having to keep itself clean the vaginal area.In this article I am sharing my natural bv cures which have a multifaceted strategy which uses a kind of response that conventional meds, such as those who do not have adverse effects as well, specifically oral medication, though in most cases.The antibacterial properties that will work wonders.

Some of these treatments are the things you can take place or you are serious about finding natural cures can treat it.The vagina normally has various cultures of healthy bacteria.Well, a lot of women being affected somehow by BV.Now although you may have already used natural remedies by doing a complete strategic method is a common fault.How would they think they can prescribe antibiotics as it will be surprised if you ask me, you'll find the answers.