#because i can never ecape it

[goodluckroza]

and it's killing me to love you

A/N: see end for notes.

ep 1x8 coda

You'll think about it later, knees pressed to the hard floor, hands clasped loosely as you rest them on the velvet in front of you . You’ll think about the press of Tatiana’s mouth to yours, her long nails clawing at your cheek; how you're still not sure if it was pleasure or poison. Forgiveness or punishment. Either way, it makes you feel sick.

You’ll know you should be focusing on holy things. Tatiana is not holy, you don't believe - but far be it from you to determine what the Elements bless and what they do not.

With your knees still pressed to the hard floor, thighs wedged against the wooden bottom of the prie-dieu, you'll try to drag your thoughts back to the saints, to the gods, but then her face will appear behind the press of your eyelids. Rose. Roza. You'll feel nauseated all over again. For that wanton kiss with Tatiana. For what came before. You don’t even know - yet - that Tatiana was the one who called for ‘live fire', or about Sonya Karp, or all the other terrible things Tatiana Vogul has done in her pursuit of the throne. She was just a woman who knew you could never love her, who perhaps shared and understood some of your pain. And maybe, for just a heartbeat, she could have helped you forget about her. 

But it’s never that easy. 

When Tatiana approached you in the church, speaking of kindred spirits, of faith, of Alexi, you’d felt vulnerable. Here was one of the most powerful Moroi in the dominion telling you she admired your faith. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that it wasn’t faith that left you anchored at the alter for three days after Alexi’s death; it was fear and loss. They were paralyzing. It felt like a moment of weakness - not strength. The saints had not helped you this time.

But bringing up Alexi reminded you of duty, of they come first, so when she asked, you’d agreed to be her proxy. This wasn’t personal, or about politics - it was an obligation.

Then she happened. Rose. Like she always does, bending the world around her to do her bidding. Rose is always a problem without an answer. When she steps into a room she sucks all the space out of it; when she’s near you she pulls all the air from your lungs. It’s just how she is, a vortex of passion and power. She’d fought in the ring like she always does - a dancer flirting with danger. Weightless and elegant and deadly. So beautiful, it hurts you. And oh, how she hurt you.

You’re not a self-hating man - you made peace with your demons long ago. But tonight, as you watched Rose fly across the ring, you felt them clawing at your chest, the taste of your blood thick and cloying in your mouth. In that moment, you felt the terrible, paralyzing fear you’d felt after you'd beaten your father. In the church after Alexi’s death. In the moments after you hesitated to help Princess Vasilisa. That crack in your chassis, in your perfectly calibrated control. Rose had penetrated that, because of course she did - she threatens it every time she’s with you - and you’d snapped.

At that moment, you hated yourself. 

Her kick to your face felt like some kind of penance. You thought you deserved everything that came to you after that - like some kind of martyr. In retrospect, you could include the kiss in that. Even if you don't know everything yet, you still knew Rose was right when she said that Tatiana Vogul stands for everything that’s terrible in your world. She is the poison chalice you chose to drink from anyway. Alexi would turn in his grave if he knew. Yet here you still are, resigned to your duty, to your faith, to the crumbs that you’re offered from the tables of people like Tatiana Vogul.

But, you'll wonder as you press your thumbs against the bridge of your nose, do you still even have those? The moment Rose Hathaway ran through the Academy’s gardens and into your life, as you wrestled her to the ground next to Princess Vasilisa’s car, you were lost. Or perhaps it was before then - perhaps it started with Alexi’s death. From that small amount of kindling, Rose became the fuel, and Caroni was the spark. 

Or maybe it’s just been you all along. You're your own undoing. You untied the knot tethering yourself to the dock that is your faith, and now you’re unmoored, floating in an endless nothing. If you can’t be loyal to your duty as a Dhampir, to the saints and their gods, what do you have left? Who are you anymore? 

All you know is that Rose terrifies you as much as the thought of freedom does, but despite that, you love her. Oh, how you love her.

You know you’ll probably go back to Tatiana anyway, even if it makes you feel sick, seeking some kind of repententence in regret and the kiss of a woman who you’ll never have and who’ll never have you. Because being with her makes you feel like you can still somehow anchor yourself to your duty. Because going back to her is probably what you deserve. Because going back to her will be easy, even if it isn’t right.

You'll shift your weight and feel the metal of your stake dig into your hip. They come first. Yet here you'll be, wallowing in self pity.

Knees pressed to the hard floor, hands clasped loosely as you rest them on the velvet in front of you, thighs wedged against the wooden bottom of the prie-dieu and your stake digging into your hip, you'll think of holy things. You'll think of holy things, and try not to think about how, if you were true to your convictions - true to staying away from her - you would’ve asked for a transfer to a different provice a long time ago.  

You'll think of holy things as you say prayer in Russian and try desperately not to contemplate how you know you find more peace with Rose Hathaway than you’ll ever find in a church. 

She is inevitable. 

You'll think of holy things.

---

A/N: title taken from the Vancouver Sleep Clinic song of the same name. this was basically me trying to stitch together my understandings of show!dimitri and book!dimitri and explain to myself (justify? i guess?) what happened in ep 8. i agree with Sisi and Kieron that Rose shouldn't have kept hitting Dimitri when he was down, and that Dimitri should've ended everything on his feet, and the whole Tatiana thing ................... yeah anyway idk. i haven't written for VA before and i'm rusty at best so sorry if it's awful. thanks for reading.

[agentrouka-blog]

I liked your response about Sansa being too hesitant sometimes to take charge to her detriment (although it's understandable... with littlefinger she's been framed for murder so... it's like you said there will come a time when it does look like moral cowardice if sansa does continues the same pattern and for many reasons this will be sansa breaking the pattern, similar to her killing LF) It made me think how in contrast, Arya has a strength in that she will take charge even if there are no good choices/tons of risk in situations (aka Harrenhall) It doesn't always work out but that's not the point. This is something Sansa herself needs to overcome and having been removed from the toxic environment of KL she can do that

Exactly! :D

And actually, the instance with Littlefinger is actually a great example of this. It’s entirely understandable, because she is young and afraid, but she has this very strong impulse to reveal herself to Yohn Royce, and she doesn’t and she defers to Littlefinger’s plan.

It is not coincidence that there’s a verbal distinction made between Sansa’s memories and Alayne’s response. It is “Alayne I”, the chapter where she truly chooses that cover identity. To her detriment.

Last of all came the Royces, Lord Nestor and Bronze Yohn. The Lord of Runestone stood as tall as the Hound. Though his hair was grey and his face lined, Lord Yohn still looked as though he could break most younger men like twigs in those huge gnarled hands. His seamed and solemn face brought back all of Sansa's memories of his time at Winterfell. She remembered him at table, speaking quietly with her mother. She heard his voice booming off the walls when he rode back from a hunt with a buck behind his saddle. She could see him in the yard, a practice sword in hand, hammering her father to the ground and turning to defeat Ser Rodrik as well. He will know me. How could he not? She considered throwing herself at his feet to beg for his protection. He never fought for Robb, why should he fight for me? The war is finished and Winterfell is fallen. "Lord Royce," she asked timidly, "will you have a cup of wine, to take the chill off?"

Bronze Yohn had slate-grey eyes, half-hidden beneath the bushiest eyebrows she had ever seen. They crinkled when he looked down at her. "Do I know you, girl?"

Alayne felt as though she had swallowed her tongue, but Lord Nestor rescued her. "Alayne is the Lord Protector's natural daughter," he told his cousin gruffly. (AFFC, Alayne I)

The likely truth is that this was a moment where she could have found a much safer protector and ended Littlefinger right then and there. Instead, she evades the decision, supports his lie and becomes entrapped in his web. She trades her own future credibility for the very flimsy comfort of “the devil you know”. It makes her look complicit, at worst, and unreliable at the very least.

This lack of credibility will absolutely come back and bite her in the future. Her inability to easily ecape her complicity with Littlefinger will likely be the reason she cannot be safely escorted North with the Valemen, She will need to work harder to prove her capability to them later on, even if they are likely to accept and understand her own reasoning once she can explain herself. But it’s a detour she could have avoided if she had only been a little bolder, a little more determined to escape Littlefinger.

And it will doubly come back in her connection to Arya, who is already predisposed to assigning worse intentions to Sansa than she has.

But I really look forward to Sansa struggling through that. I know she will, and it will be marvelous to watch.

Just as I am really looking forward to both Sansa and Arya finally reforging their connection and appreciating each other’s strengths. We already had glimpses of Sansa appreciating Arya-like aspects in other characters. Margaery, even Ellaria, and later Mya and Myranda. It’ll be such an uplifting revelation for each other.

“Brave like Robb”, “brave like my lady mother”, “brave like a lady in a song” - but also “brave like Arya!”

[isitandwonder]

Trigger warning for disturbing sexual content

I’ve been following the Armie Hammer DM leak since yesterday.

And at first I thought ‘yeah, wtf, but consenting adults, my kink is not your kink but I won’t judge what people do in bed yada yada’

But what I’m reading is getting more and more disturbing and outright disgusting.

And then I remembered the above, Armie Hammer at the Golden Globes 2018 wearing a #Time’sUp pin.

And just - NO!

He is not an ally!

Because this man (allegedly) wrote stuff like this to a woman he was sexually engaging with:

“Text me about me breaking your bones while raping you”

“If you tell me what I can and can’t break I will break them all”

“When I tell you to slit your wrists and use the blood as lube for anal”

“What do you need to walk for. You just lay on a pile on the floor and ill fuck you whenever I walk past you”

“If I fucked you in to a vegetative state id keep you, feed you, wash you and keep fucking you b... Till you are so sore and broken”

(I have screenshots of these messages but I’m not sharing them here as I don’t know if the woman he allegedly sent them to would be okay with that. But they are all on her IG if you want to look them up.)

Sorry, but a man getting off on doing this to women, to reduce them to a state in which they have no free will, can’t say no, can’t ecape him isn’t looking for consent to a sexual fantasy (how weird it might be).

He’s simply objectifying a woman into a thing, reducing her to a doll, to fuck meat, dehumanizing her, transforming her into something to use for his own pleasure alone regardless of her wants and needs (what a good Dom/sub relationship always should take into account).

Fantasize about whatever shit rocks your boat but if it’s something like this how dare you wear a #Time’sUp pin! How dare you pretend to be against sexual violence against women when what turns you on is exactly that!

If this is how you see women, if this is what you get off to - you are part of the problem and can never be part of the solution.

[golden-aire-girl]

So... Old Guard fandom. What are our thoughts on a Hunger Games AU? Are they out there? Are they coming? It all just comes together so well - I really hope so. 

If I were a writer, I could see... 

- District 2!Nicky capitvated by, then snearing at District 8!Joe as they wait in line to get go in and get their Training Scores. (Nicky gets a 8 for his shooting. Joe gets a 9 for his sword work. Or maybe he just makes a sculpture with the weapons and gets a 2.)

- Nicky is a Career from the defense district battling Joe, a fierce artist and textilemaker from District 8, who volunteered as tribute to save his little brother, right at the start of the games they clash but nothing comes of it other than a sexy sword fight filled with sexual tension. 

- Nicky is full of guilt and angst over being trained from birth to do nothing but kill in the name of the Catholic church Capital in order to please his cold mother. He grabs a gun, climbs a tall tree and takes out a couple fellow Careers from his sniper’s nest anyway. 

- Joe is a textile artist but his father also trained him to be a fighter (just in case) and hates the games. He mostly hates that he can only die in them once for his brother, who still has 4 Reapings to get through. Joe resolves not to kill anyone because he wants to die the same man he was when he left his family. He is still willing ot protect himself to stay a live to get back to them. 

- Nicky hates (but is impossibly attracted to) Joe, who somehow finds the ability to be kind in the arena. He sees Joe protecting one of the younger tributes (Rue Stand In - God, I loved Rue) before Joe and Rue #2 disappear. Then plot happens, they have to team up and end up falling in love. 

-The Capital lives for drama and stans an enemies to lovers romance so Joe and Nicky are sent many gifts by sponsors. 

- Enter Merrick and Kozak as tributes from District 1 who have just been hanging out by the cornucopia, picking off 12 year olds left and right. Boss fight happens and Merrick takes down Nicky but Nicky shoots him too. Nicky’s tracker comes off somehow and there’s only one canon blast.

- Nicky is murdered (He wakes up fast because it’s not his first death... that happened back when he was still at home in District 2, he tried to end his own life only to wake up perfectly whole so he assumed that was a dream... btw he’s been dreaming of Andy and Quynh ever since but assumes they’re just dreams) but they’re still Old Guard immortals, so he comes back just in time to save Joe from Kozak who ecapes. Then they spend several angsty chapters knowing only one of them can surivive. If he can’t die, how will he die to save Joe at the end of the game? 

- Meanwhile Joe’s making peace with the fact he will die and Nicky will be safe. He couldn’t save Rue #2 so he’ll be damned if he’ll lose Nicky. (He’s also heard very old folklore about immortals from his great grandfather, so he’s not completely caught unaware. Maybe an immortal from District 8 lived through the disasters and wars that created Panem. The whole district kept this person’s identy a secret from the Capital for centuries and now they’re gone. But their stories remain).

- At one point Joe says ‘Everything has to die, Nicky, It’s not your time yet’.

- The climax happens, Kozak comes back and manages to kill Joe. 

- Feral Nicky is engaged; Kozak is disintergrated. Joe is still dead (because the first time take so long for you to wake up). 

- Games end with Nicky as the Victor. Definition of a pyrrhic victory. 

- We follow Nicky back to the Capital going to parties. We follow him on the train back to District 2. We follow him being greeted by his cold and distant father. We follow him haunting his giant lonely house in the Victor’s Villiage. The entire time he is dreaming endlessly about Joe and two women he’s never met before. 

- Joe wakes up after his body is taken out of the arena and is captured by the Capital.  He’s strapped down to a table and in a lab and keeps dreaming of Nicky and two women.  

- Andy and Quynh, of District 13, come to everyone’s rescue. They pick up Nicky on the way. They are badasses. 

- Everyone goes to hide in District 13 and plan a revolution that won’t really happen kick off for another 24 years after the 74th Hunger Games, when another brave tribute volunteers to save her sister. 

- Happy endings all around. Well as happy as one can be in a distopia...  

[myriadxofxmuses]

The gentleness of his touch sent chills through her spine. Her breath hitched when he leaned in, her eyes shutting as she inhaled his scent. It was exhilarating. She very nearly fainted as his voice hit her ears.  She couldn't help the growing smile when he led her through the crowd, unable to hide her glee as they ecaped into the night.

"He's not my friend," she corrected him with a smirk. She had to force herself to remember to breath when he caught her eyes. "He's a sleaze. He came to the infirmary," she started explaining, unaware that Jace was well aware of Spencer's visit.  "And actualy hit on me," she continued with a laugh. "Can you believe that shit?" she asked almost rhetorically, swinging their joined hands slightly from her nerves.

As natural as it felt to be with him, she still felt the tinge of the fight back at the park.  He made her feel like a teenager again.  Like nothing bad could ever come their way and the world was theirs for the taking.  Of course, realistically, she knew that was far from the truth. The dead roamed free outside the walls of this place and she knew the pull to find his gang would eventually be too strong to ignore.

"Souns perfect," she said softly, a arkle in her eyes as she imagined their moonlit picnic. 

Emily couldn't help but keep her eyes glued to him, even when he averted his eyes.  Minut worry began to trickle through her veins when he started apologizing, the thought that he would follow it up with his goodbye, but vanished immiediately as he continued.  She gently leaned in to him and tucked her arm through his, holding him close.

"I should be the one apologizing," she told him with a small shake of her head. "I should never have gotten upset. You have every right to want to find your people. It was a selfish reaction.  I just...I don't know....the thought of you being gone...scared me," she admitted quietly. 

The confession brought back the same fear she felt back in that control booth.  Her chest immediately began to warm and her throat slowly tightened.  She pulled him gently tighter, reminding herself to stop being irrational - he was right there.

Her mind had wandered far, but when he turned her to face him she came crashing back.  Her heart fluttered with his promise.  A smile tugged gently at the corners of her lips, fully believing that he was about to kiss her.  Her neck practically craned to meet him.

Instead of feeling his lips pressed to hers she was swooped up and off her feet.  'Hey! What are you...Jace! Stop!" she playfully yelled at him, laughing as he ran.

--------

Oscar drank angrily as he walked, eyes distant yet focused on nothing as he walked.  All the recent events - the house with Jace, the Market, Liv, their rooftop conversation and the game of darts - were on a neverending loop. He went through a quarter of the bottle by the time he ran into another person and he found it odd given the number of people that lived there.  Then he remembered.

Shit!

The dinner. 

He hadn't found anyone because they were all at the grand, welcoming dinner in honor of them.  The impromptu chat with Clare had completely vacated it from his memory.  He was supposed to have gone to size up thie residents of Alexandria for Emily and him to decide if it was as good as they made it out to be.  And he was supposed to bring her back a plate. The buzz he was starting to get made him shrug it off with the justification that Emily could eat something at the house - totally unaware if there was actually any food there. 

He didn't care.

"I’ve met a lot of pricks in my life, but you certainly take the prize." he mocked as he drank, wiping his mouth clean with the sleeve of his shirt. 

He wasn't a prick.  In fact he was sure of it.  Stubborn? Sure.  Overly persistent? Absolutely.  Cauious, protective, and capable? All of the above. He knew he was a good guy and he was 'easy on the eyes' as Liv used to tell him. 

He chuckled sadly with the memory. Drinking. 

He was all those things and more yet Clare saw just some prick,  It stung more than it should have.  He continued mouthing her other insults to no one as he walked and drank, his emotions becoming less and less controllable the longer the liqour had the wheel. 

Oscar wobbled onto a dark porch, three quarters of the bottle now gone.  The alochol warmed his veins and he dropped onto the top step with a thud. 

"Ow," he said to no one. He took a deep breath and pushed it out loudly as he leaned back against the house.  God his head felt heavy all of a sudden.  He let it drop, hanging chin to chest, and laughed.

"You're fucking drunk," he told himself. "You're cu off," he added with a mocking wave of his finger at himself.  He set the bottle down, and rolled to try and push himself upward.  He slid up the side of the house until standing and shoved off it harder than intended, pitching him forward to the railing.  He clumsily caught himself before rolling back toward the stairs and landing on his ass once more. 

He groaned and let his arms hang lazily on his knees.  "Ah Jesus," he said through a devastated, drunken sigh. 

The the tears came.  Everything came crashing down on him, overwhelming his senses.  It was all just to heavy to bare anymore and he let them fall.

His heart broke for Liv. He had failed her. Miserably.  Guilt brought forth the depressing 'what if' thought that she might still be alive if she had never met him.  If she hadn't been with him, she wouldn't have been part of the group, and when it fell she wouldn't have ended up separated and biten. None of it would have happened if he hadn't believed he was supposed to have anything good in life.

And then he very nearly lost Emily because he was too busy believing once again that he deserved a break once in awhile. A quiet sob choked him momentarily.  He had failed to protect her and she would have died if it hadn't been for Jace.  An angry grimace flashed through his features over the thought of the man being able to do what he couldn't. 

Then he was pulled to Clare and he was overwhelmed with sadness all over again. 

She hated him.

"That's what you get," he slurred to himself. "Friends are not in the cards for you."

Then the image of Clare giving him a tarot reading flashed through his mind and he felt like he would start crying all over again.  He sloppily grabbed for the bottle and drank, leaning against the railing with his free arm draped through the slats like dead weight.

@claredeadbydaylight

@claredeadbydaylight

“I don’t know,” Syd started as the duo walked. “I’m just not a…group person. You of all people should know that,” she added with a small smirk.

“Yea. I know,” he replied, slight defeat in his voice. “Hell, I felt like I couldn’t be part’s group ‘cuz bad luck follows me everywhere. Bur it ain’t like that no more. N'it don’t have ta be for you neither.”

He was about to plead his case further when the crack of a branch rang out somewhere in the treeline. Daryl put a hand up, stopping Sydney. He listened to the returning silence a moment before calling out.

“Alive or dead?”

Nothing.

When a second branch cracked the two sprung into action and entered the treeline. A small group of walkers were spread out among the woods and the two made quick work of them.

“Look. All I’m saying is that maybe I’d be better off outside the walls. I could still be a part of what you have, but on my own terms,” Syd offered, wiping her blade on her pant leg before sliding it back in its sheath. She then began searching the lifeless walker nearest to her. “Bingo,” she said to herself when she managed to removed his backpack and found it half loaded with useful supplies. “Guess its our lucky day,” she said holding it up.

Off in the nearby distance a shuffling could be heard and Daryl’s head whipped toward it, quietly pulling his crossbow to the ready. He put a finger to his lips at Syd and she nodded in understanding. She sold the bag onto her back and pulled out her own sidearm, ready to help Daryl defend against whatever may be coming their way.

“Alive or dead?” he repeated when the noose continued.

[wonderfulworldofwinchester]

Familiar Face

First installment in the No Place Like You Series.

Jensen x Reader, Y/F/N- your friend’s name, Jared, Kim, Brianna 

Series summary: Your best friend finally convinces you to put on your big girl panties and go to a Supernatural convention while you are in Atlanta. Never in your wildest dreams would you have thought you would catch Jensen’s eye. Little does he know, you have your own spotlight. (I’m terrible at summaries; stay with me haha) 

Warnings: Language, awkwardness, idk. 

Word Count: 1752 

A/N: This is my first attempt at a true series, and it’s only my second time writing Jensen, so be gentle haha. Also, remember, THIS IS FICTION, for the purpose of this storyline Jensen is single. There is in no way hate intended towards his family. 

PART2  

 Masterlist       To Do List         Ask Me Anything/Requests  

Y/N’s POV 

I groan in response to the incessant beeping of the stupid alarm clock in our hotel room, lazily fumbling about, trying to find the snooze button. “Hold it! What do you think you’re doing missy?!” Oh Y/F/N, and her bubbly, chipper morning self. 

“Five more minutes...” I mumbled into the pillow, begging her for some mercy. 

She apparently takes that as a sign to jump on my bed and start bouncing up and down, repeatedly chanting, “Today’s the day! Today’s the day!” 

“Get off of me!” 

“Nu-uh, not until you get up! Come on, come on, up up! We have a big day ahead!” 

All that ecapes my mouth is a grumble, followed by some explatives, and finally, “Don’t remind me...” 

“Seriously Y/N? I mean you’ve only loved this show since day one. You should be excited, it’s gonna be so much fun! Cons are awesome, you meet soooooo many cool people. Not to mention the cast is there” she says nudging me with her elbow, and wiggling her brows in that goofy way she does. 

She and I have been best friends since god only knows when. We’ve been through everything together, and she’s always been the one to push me out of my shell. At this point she could get me to do anything with her goofy go get em attitude. “Fine....” I throw my hands up in surrender, as I sit up. 

Her ecstatic squeal’s loud enough to wake everyone in the hotel, I’m sure of it. She bounds around the room, gathering up what she says is the perfect con outfit for me. I had begged her before we came to let me dress down. I want to be low key in this whole thing- no attention brought to me what so ever; completely under the radar. “Here, wear this” she says handing me a simple black t-shirt. Oh thank god, she did hear me! I thought. 

My mini celebration stops abruptly when I flip the shirt over. There’s a giant picture of Dean leaning against the Impala with he words ‘Forget the Prince Charming with his horse, I want Dean with his Impala!’ scrawled across the front. “I am not wearing this.” I say, getting up from the bed, and heading towards the bathroom to get in the shower. 

Her response is to put her hands on her hips, lean forward, and pout “Y/N, you love Dean!” 

“And I can love him without the shirt to prove it.” 

“Please, I’m wearing my Sam shirt... come on don’t leave me hanging. We gotta be the complete Winchester set.” 

Ugh, “Fine. I’ll wear it, but I am wearing a flannel over it!” 

Within a couple short hours we are walking into the lobby with people buzzing about, all giddy and laughing with each other. I have to admit it’s kinda cool. I mean all these people coming together simply because of a common interest in a show. 

Y/F/N was right, everyone is so nice. I still try to keep my head down though. This was still entirely too new. Before I know it, she’s dragging me all over the damn hotel doing all kinds of things she says we have to, because ‘she’s got a checklist’. 

The day goes by pretty quickly, and I’ll never tell her, but I’m glad she convinced me to come. I’ve had more fun in the last few hours than I have in a long time. But, right now however, I’m a weird mix of excited, nervous, and at a loss for words. The time has come. The J2 panel was about to begin. 

“Y/N, would you get your ass in here already!” Y/F/N’s voice snaps me out of my trance. She has already gone through the door, and I’m left standing here  just on the other side like an idiot. “For god’s sake, it’s not like they’re gonna jump off the stage and kill you!” She says grabbing my hand and pulling me down the aisle to our seats. 

Only about 5 minutes into the panel, she slapping her hand down onto my bouncing leg, “God why are you so nervous? You’re sitting in a chair listening to people talk, calm down.” 

‘Sorry, I can’t help it” 

Jensen’s POV 

Here I am on stage in front of fans with Jared, suppose to be paying attention, but I can only think about this girl I Caught a glimpse of earlier. Literally, I only saw her for a fraction of a second, but she’s been on my mind all day. Her smile just lit up the room. “Dude!” Jared’s voice and slap on the shoulder, brought me back into reality. “Did you even hear the question?” 

I look up, pulling a face, “I’m not gonna lie, no, I did not.” The room busts out laughing at what they think might be me just being goofy or something, allowing me to get away with it this time. Jared however, picks up on it a little more. He’s caught me spacing out all day. 

After the girl asked her question again, and I gave her my answer, my eyes start to scan the crowd as they normally would, until they fall on the same smile from earlier. There she is, sitting beside her friend. God that smile. 

While I am managing to stay more focused for the rest of the panel, my eyes always find their way back to her. She laughs at the stupid joke I just attempted to make, and I swear my heart about busts open. I tell myself that this is ridiculous, I never even met her. I shouldn’t feel this way. 

She’s whispering with her friend, and they both start giggling. I think to myself, I could get lost in that giggle forever. She’s just so freaking cute. I silently keep hoping she will look up when I am looking at her, but she never does. Her eyes refuse to look in my direction. They are always glue somewhere in the general direction of the stage, but they never meet mine. 

Not long after, the panel is ending, and Jared and I are walking off the stage. His questions start the moment we are out of sight. “You saw her didn’t you?” 

I try to brush him off, and keep walking. “What are you talking about?” 

“oh don’t give me that crap. I’ve known you long enough to know that a girl has caught your eye. All day you’ve been spacey, and I’ve never seen you that off in a panel.” 

I stop and turn to face him. “Ok. Alright. Fine. I did see a girl earlier that may have sparked an interest. Yes, she was in there, but don’t go getting all-” I start to gesture wildly with my hands, know exactly what I mean, probably not many other people do, “on me.”

“Why?” 

“It’s one girl in a sea of people, I’ve never met her, and she wouldn’t even look at me in there.” I know good and well those are piss poor excuses, but it’s all I got right now. Luckily he backs off, clearly not in the mood to argue with me any more at the moment. 

We start walking across the hotel. There were of course fans lining the way. We acknowledge them as we walk by, and out of the corner of my eye, I see her. She is just standing there with her friend, not screaming like most of the people in the room. I turn my head to look at her, and for the first time, my eyes catch hers. I offer a smile, and her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink as her head dropped down and then to her friend. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself. So damn cute. 

Y/N’s POV

I throw my arm out, unintentionally hitting Y/F/N in the stomach producing an umph sound from her lips. “I looked right at him!!!” I say, my eyes as wide as they could be, and my face all up in hers. 

“What? Who?” She says, trying to recover from the blow. 

“What do you mean who? JENSEN FREAKING ACKLES!” 

She laughs, throwing her arms around my neck, “Ah, I’m so proud of you!” She jokes. We giggle and goof off all the way back to our room. She wants every little detail of that milisecond of an interaction, if you could even call it that. “He smiled? See, I told you they were nice!” 

I plop down on my bed, “Even serial killers smile sometimes.” 

She is in the bathroom, no doubt reapplying make up. “Wait, so you think Jensen Ackles is a serial killer?” She laughs, knowing good and well that’s not what I meant. 

“Oh shut up, you know what I mean. Just because a person smiles, doesn’t mean they are what you say they are.” 

She rolls her eyes as she comes out of the bathroom. Yep, new make up in place. “Whatever, come on, get up, get ready, we gotta go.” 

“Ugh, I know.” 

Jensen’s POV 

Everybody’s heading out to dinner, and boy are they a riot tonight. Well, honestly when are they not, though? Jared is still giving me crap about this girl. Why would I ever expect anything less from him.  About half way into this dig, Kim and Brianna happen to overhear him. “Oh, did I just hear what I think I did?” Brianna chirps. “Does someone have a little crush?” She grins. Now Kim's looking at me in expectancy too. Great. 

Jared tells them all about my behavior that day, meanwhile, I try to slip back behind the crowd, not wanting to be apart of the conversation anymore. The building we’re walking along side has many posters displaying upcoming events and shows. I Take in the sights as I pass by, but none of them catch my interest. Except this one. The last poster on the wall stops me in my tracks. 

Everybody else keeps walking, but I just stand there staring like a moron. 

Eventually, Jared realizes I’m no longer right beside him, and turns to see me standing here. “You good?” He asks, and all I can do is point to the picture. Jared tells the rest of them to go ahead, and he, Kim, and Brianna walk back to where I was. “What? What’s up?” 

“It’s her” 

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[hedvigwerner]

How I went from impulsive to mindful shopper

Today I thought I’d share a different type of post and talk a bit about the tools I use to shop mindfully. Over the past few years, I’ve come face to face with the effects of overconsumption on the environment. In the final term of my bachelor’s degree, I took a class on environmental politics that left me more anxious about the future of our planet than ever before. We are in urgent need of action, but can’t rely on large industries and governments for the solution due to short-term thinking – profit and power – clouding their eyes. 

We are, though, seeing big business shift towards renewable energy, with billionaires pumping big money into the energy of the future (they follow suit wherever the money flows). However, I am hesitant about renewable energy, especially wind, solar and biomass. If you’re curious as to why I’m concerned, I recommend Planet of the Humans, which is available to stream for free on YouTube (I might tackle this topic properly in another blog post). 

In all seriousness, I believe the only way for us to really get a grip on this crisis is to do a complete lifestyle and become mindful consumers. This requires a drastic alteration of consumption habits, and I think a great place to start is with our shopping habits. According to a 2016 McKinsey article, the world consumed 60 per cent more clothing in 2014 than in 2000. As a result of brand’s releasing multiple collections each year, UNEP states, “the equivalent of one garbage truck of textiles is landfilled or burned” every second. The fashion industry is the second largest consumer of water and the second largest water polluter. According to a report by ECAP, UK consumers buy more clothing than any of their European cousins. On average, every Brit buys an estimated 26.7 kg of clothing each year compared to 15.6 kg in other European nations. These are some worrying facts, and unfortunately, we can count on big fast fashion brands – including luxury – to make drastic changes. 

Overconsumption is a problem that facilitates the fashion industry to continue its destruction of the environment. With demand rising, the industry continues to grow its supply to meet the increasing demand. McKinsey suggests that consumers are choosing to “overlook or tolerate the social and environmental costs of fast fashion”. We see fast fashion companies like H&M releasing “conscious” collections – which sounds like a step in the right direction – but if we look at their business as a whole, the remainder of their collections are not “conscious”. Overproduction can never be “conscious”. If a company markets a new piece of clothing – even though it’s made of recycled or eco-friendly materials – the most sustainable option is always to abstain from purchasing. 

I admit it. I used to buy things on a whim, only to wear an item once or twice to then abandoning it at the back of my wardrobe. However, materialism wasn’t making me happy so I quit overconsumption and implemented 11 mindful habits: 

Time: This was the big one for me. Take the time to consider if you need an item before you buy it. Ask yourself some critical questions. Do I see myself wearing this in two years? How does this fit into my existing wardrobe? Bonus: Your wallet will love you for this one! When you take the time to consider a purchase, you stop buying things you don’t actually need. Give it a few days and you may find that you’ve forgotten all about it. 

Research environmental/ethical brands: Research brands on Good On You, a website/app that rates fashion brands' environmental impact, labour conditions and animal welfare. Using the average scores from these key issues, Good On You gives brands a score of: Great, Good, It’s a Start, Not Good Enough and We Avoid. If you need to buy something, this resource can guide you towards the most sustainable option.

Vintage: Shop vintage and second hand as much as possible. This is also an opportunity to support small businesses. 

Natural fibers: Only purchase clothing made of natural fibers. Even though an item is made of recycled polyester, I wouldn’t buy it just because every time I clean it, it releases micro plastics into the water. A tip if you have clothing made of polyester is to get a wash bag that reduces the release of micro plastics. All in all, I prefer the feel of natural fibers on my skin.  

Quality over quantity: If I buy something new, I make sure it’s good quality. Instead of five cheap items that won’t survive a round in the washing machine, I prefer to get one expensive piece that will last me years.

Made to order: There are small brands popping up that do handmade to order clothing, which is how people back in the day used to get their clothing fix (or they sewed it themselves). Currently, I’m only aware of womenswear labels, I recommend Olivia Rose The Label and Maison Cleo.   

Rent: If you have a special event coming up, rent the outfit. When we buy an outfit for a ball or a wedding, we tend to wear it only once or twice. Because... When the next special event comes up, we usually want something new. Renting is a sustainable option that allows you the variety you’re craving. It means you can wear that really pretty designer dress for a night without paying the exorbitant price tag. 

Avoid trends: Buy clothing that fits your personality and pairs well with your existing wardrobe. Don’t get carried away by an influencer’s haul or the latest trend piece making the rounds on Instagram. 

Mend holes: Get yourself a sewing kit so that you can mend holes and seams, or – if you’re not that handy with a needle – go see a seamster (your local dry cleaners will most likely have this service available). 

Sell: Sell old clothing and accessories on Depop, Vinted or Vestiaire Collective. By finding a new owner, you extend the life of your old garments. 

Donate: Give away to friends or donate to charity shops.

[wanderlust225]

La Ciudad religiosa

Our Airbnb host, Gabriel, noted in a lovely note he left me that the super cool photographs in his apartment were his own work. He was really responsive and gave us a number of good restaurant recommendations, so when he offered a tour of the city and explained his excellent knowledge of the art and history, we took him up on it. After a delicious breakfast at Jerry's, a local cafe where Jerry serves up delicious Ecuadorian food and chats you up in the most friendly manner, Gabriel picked us up in a little blue Toyota hatchback. We drove around the La Mariscal neighborhood and he pointed our Plaza Foch, the big nightlife area. He explained that a lot of the architecture in the nicer parts of the city was early 1900s European, as many Jews fled here ecaping persecution and wanted to build a more familiar city. Mariscal Foch (Marshall Foch) happened to be a French prime minister in the early 1900s, and thus, the area was born. On our way to the first stop we also passed by El Ejido park which had tons of old trees, including a 300 year old cypress! Since I had expressed interest in his art work we first went to el Centro de Arte Contemporaneo de Quito, where they had an exhibition he was included in. The really cool part about his pieces is that he takes double or triple exposure pictures and layers them on top of each other and although he has traveled quite extensively, all the art we saw was from Ecuador. We passed by the enormous gothic church (Basilica del Voto Nacional) I had been blown away by yesterday and he explained that, like many of the curches in Quito, they incorporate both European and indigenous ("indio") elements like gargoyles of wild animals from Ecuador, including alligators, iguanas, armadillos, pelicans, sharks and, of course, tortugas from the Galapagos! On our journey to find parking in the cramped Old Quito area he told us a little about the current politics. It seems the last president, Correa, was extremely corrupt and sold a lot of the country's land and resources to the Chinese (like mining in the Amazon). The Ecuadorian people are very ecologically minded (think, the Galapagos) so the idea that the Chinese are going to come in and ruin their natural resources is tragic. The current president, Moreno, sounded a bit better, but has only been in office for a few months. Interestingly (but maybe not surprisingly), the last mayor of Quito was also corrupt -- but Gabriel admitted that he did a lot of good things for the city, like significantly improve the bus system with larger busses. Our first stop in the Old Town was Catedral Primada de Quito. For me, the most amazing part was that this cathedral has origins back to 1535, when it was a simple adobe house with a clay tile roof and wooden framework. Shortly after, by 1562 it was named the national cathedral and they demolished the old structure and built stone foundations and brick walls but still a clay tile roof. This was on the central square that shared space with the main government building which Stephen noted, and I agree, seemed very accessible. Right down the road we went to the Centro Culutral Metropolitana which had on a sprawling feminist exhibition that showed up in most of the rooms of the 2 block building. It featured artwork by many prominent feminists as well as one by the gorilla girls, who have a famous tagline that 'women shouldn't have to be naked to be featured in the Met.' Good point! Very interestingly, on the rooftop there was a huge block that faced the government building and said, "you will not violate us," apparently in reference to a son of one of the major officials who was convicted of rape. Powerful! Then we arrived at La iglesia de la compania de Jesus and the good old Jesuits had the most extravagently decorated church I have ever seen, literally covered in gold. Every wall and the ceiling was plated in 23 ct gold, except for the area with a statue of Jesus, which was plated in 24 ct gold. Perhaps my favorite part of this church though was that on your way out into the cruel and tempting world, there was an incredible painting that pictured Hell with all of the major sins named and depicted with terrible tortures. Just a reminder to be good when you exit...! The last church we visited (though there were many, many more) was la Iglesia de San Francisco. I know this is a common name but I really do like churches that reminde me of SF. :) To be honest, after the gilded church it was a little tough to get excited about this more normal looking beautiful giant but I did like it's origin. In the legend of Catuna, it is said that the architect of SF was told he would never see it built to completion - so he sold his soul to the devil so he could live long enough to see it finalized - and he did! I guess he wwasn't a very pious man. The plaza this church was on used to be an Incan market and, currently, it's under construction, building a subway for Quito (maybe - Gabriel seemed unconvinced). After all of these churches we were starving so we headed to La Floresta neighborhood which, per Gabriel is the sort of bohemian area - though interestingly is also where all the banks and expensive resetaurants are. Not sure how I square that circle. Regardless, we went to a fantastic bahn mi restaurant because, honestly, you can only have potatoes and corn so many times! It was delicious. In the afternoon he took us to La Casa de Guayasumin who was one of Ecuador's most prolific artists. In his 70 years of paining he painted many leaders like the prince of Spain, Castro and Chavez (in more of a cubist style). He must have charged a pretty penny because his mansion was incredible, up on a beautiful hill in a neighborhood called Bella Vista and filled with priceless art. He decided before his death that instead of passing it all down to his children he preferred to keep everything as it was in his home and open it up as a museum to the public. Even though he was not religious, there was tons of religious art, some extremely sensual pieces next to the religious art (interesting), a few Picassos, a few Goyas (artists that influenced his style, showing the misery of their time), and a number of other artists who I probably should know. Before his death he also comisssioned La Capilla del Hombre (the Chapel of Man) to be built just next to his house to put even more art on display - sadly, it wasn't finished before his death in 1999. The whole estate was very cool to see - mainly because they kept so many things exactly the same as when he was alive - especially his studio in which we watched a movie on him painting a famous spanish flamenco guitar player with, "a face so long and proud and tall that it looked like a never-ending tower." On our way out, we saw a place where they found ancient pots when they were excavating the land to build - guess where the anthropoligist that came to survey the land was from? None other than FAU! After Guayasumin, we headed back to our flat and then to dinner at Zazu, a very stylish restaurant with a yummy tasting menu. For me, the highlights were the crispy grilled octopus and the ginea pig -- in my defense, I didn't really think about the little furry animal until it was being served to me. Oops! The restaurant felt very fancy with waiters watching our every move for a chance to help -- the price point was that of a casual night out in SF, clocking in at $65 per person, including a bottle of nice wine.