#can you believe we have two threads finished for these hoes??? i love them. i hate them.

[someotherdog]

his eyes traveled down from her angry face to her hand, noticing how the sun glinted off of her wedding band. just another reminder of why they could never be. all those alternate universes, all those other lives would never be the one he was currently living in. anita would never be his. anita would never, ever think of him fondly again. his own fault, but the diocese held some blame as well, which helped salve the pain a little. just a little.

she was right. he made his choice. rather, his choice was made for him, and like any good clergyman, he did as he was told. bishop told him how high and finn jumped. what else was he supposed to do? leave the church for anita? she was married to a powerful man and finn had nothing to his name. an orphan twice over, both parents and grandparents gone, and his three siblings rarely spoke to him anymore. if he left the church, there would be nowhere for him to go. he’d be all alone. even more alone than he already was.

at least he had god to keep him company.

“okay.” finn replied simply. there was nothing else to say. the relationship he craved with anita died weeks ago, corpse still lying on the pew where they sat when he ended it. he had to bury it all. he had been burying things his whole life: his parents, his grandparents, his feelings. what was one more thing to shove down?

with that, anita turned and walked away.

finn stood there, watching until she was a just hazy figure in the distance. / @finclgicls

end scene.

anita wanted to shake father finnegan. slap him and kiss him all at once. she didn't know what she expected him to reply, but as he did, she found herself deeply disappointed. she wanted more than just that. more fight in him. wasn't she worthy enough to inspire that? wasn't what they had nurtured worthy enough to want to keep existing in each other's lives?

but what had they nurtured?

it was an answer she didn't know how to answer. was it friendship? no, whatever it was their bond, it felt stronger than friendship—she was woman enough to realize the feelings that had grown inside her. the feelings that had made room inside her heart.

but then—realistically—what was she asking of him?

could she really be able to ask him to leave his life of service for her? could she ask him to choose to give up his calling and every choice he had made before then for her? she didn't think of herself as worthy. no. not whatever they felt for one another. not whatever she represented to him. it wasn't worthy, and she knew that because there was nothing she could give him in return that would explain such actions. it pained her to realize that. to realize she wasn't enough for him, just as she wasn't really enough for simon. when anita thought her insides couldn't fracture further, there she was, unable to hide the cracks of her miserable attempts to mend herself back together with glue and scotch tape, pins and needles.

"don't—" she held her hand up, "there are no other universes, no other lives. you have made your choice father, and i have made mine." for a moment, she thought about how she would choose him in any universe, in any reality and quite possibly in any life. but the opposite didn't happen—couldn't happen—and the rejection made room for itself inside of her, creeping inside her bones, making her sag.

there was no fight in her, there hadn't been any fight within her for a long time. her relationship with simon was whatever simon wanted and imagined, and she figured she might even feel his anger for her sudden disappearance, especially when she had done so with finn. simon was her present and he would be her future, that much was clearly something she couldn't fight. anita would do the best she could with whatever she had, and without father finnegan there for her.

"i'll do my very best to stay out of your way."

and with those parting words, she walked away.

away from finn.

away from god.

away from herself. ＋ @someotherdog

[excindrela]

12 Days of Demon Ayno- Day 7

Supernatural AU

Pairing: demon! Ayno (Noh YoonHo) VAV / Female reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: foul language

Word Count: 2228

AU: Look we made it to day 7! (Only 10 days after Christmas) Today is fluffy, but there’s smut ahead in the forecast! To everyone reading this series- I’m so glad you’re here- thank you for reading ( especially to those who have re-blogged!). I love feedback- so if there’s something you like, or something you want to see- tell me!! Interesting fact: Tenley, Katricia & Cassidy are people I actually know! I love giving irl people cameos! LOL

Demon Ayno: Summoned | Thanksgiving | 12 Days: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9

On the 7th Day of Christmas: Ayno Experienced the True Spirit of the Season 

You strolled out of the bedroom still brushing your hair to find Ayno in the kitchen making your breakfast as usual. He poured and doctored your coffee and turned around to hand it to you but stopped with eyes wide at your appearance. He slowly handed you the coffee cup, while looking you up and down. You knew he wanted to say something but was clearly having trouble deciding on exactly what to say. He opened his mouth, and then stopped and closed it- rethinking whatever it was that had come to mind. You waited. Finally, he seemed to have settled on a way to broach what he had decided was going to be a delicate subject.

“You know that I find you beautiful, right? Have I told you today that you are beautiful?”

You struggled to hide your amusement. “Not today, but you have often told me this, yes. I believe based on your record of that particular compliment you find me most attractive when I am flushed and sweaty and looking totally fucked-out laying underneath you.”

He grinned. “True!” Then he muttered under his breath “I am not sure even that would help right now.”

You struggled to keep your face neutral.  “Is there something wrong with the way I look today?”  you asked innocently.

“Um...I know you said we are going somewhere today…would you not be more comfortable in the soft sweater with the big neck? It is a good color on you and looks nice with your jeans….”

“Oh…do you not like this one?” you asked strolling over to the floor mirror and admiring yourself.

Ayno, rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, struggling to find something nice to say. “Well…it will be easy to keep track of you…”

Privately you thought he had done very well in finding anything good to say about the knit catastrophe that adorned the upper half of your body. It was made of cheap chunky cream yarn, the whole front covered with a Christmas present made from 4 different red calico prints appliqued on the front, and a giant gold glitter ribbon bow that sat at the shoulder. There were green holly leaves embroidered around the cuffs and on the center back just below the collar.

“Agreed!” you said, “but not as easy as it will be to keep track of you!” you giggled as you ran to the bedroom closet and returned with a larger sweater that made yours look positively tame. Ayno looked with utter horror at the nightmare conceived in polyester yarn you held in your hands. The bottom was knit to look like a rooftop, and the top 2/3 was supposed to be the night sky in royal blue with little silver metallic yarn stars sprinkled on it. The center of the front was dominated by an appliqued reindeer complete with a googly eye, sparkly red pom-pom nose and a harness with actual jingle bells.

“Oh. Yes. You will not lose me.” he said in a small voice.

“Yep! No chance of that! Check this out!” you said as you pushed the hidden button and the tiny lights on all the stars began blinking.

Temporarily robbed of speech by the twinkling atrocity he was expected to put on his body, poor Ayno just stood there, mouth hanging slightly open.

“That…that is very…special.” he finally choked out. Then, hoping for an out, he tried a different tack. “But I thought we agreed that it would be best not to call attention to me. Perhaps the lights…or the whole sweater…are too much? We do not want people to notice me.” he finished hopefully.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The sad pathetic look on his face was too much, and you burst out laughing. “It’s awful right?! I can’t believe I was lucky enough to find something this bad in your size!!”

“Lucky? Uh-huh.” he said, looking very confused.

You needed to explain. “Ayno, today we’re volunteering with Project Reach Out. We’ll spend the morning sorting the food and present donations, wrapping presents for the kids, and preparing a meal. Then in the evening, we’re hosting a Christmas party, and families will come to eat and play games and then the children will pick a present, and we’ll send the families home with a box of food so they will be able to prepare a nice Christmas dinner. All the volunteers are wearing ugly Christmas sweaters today.”

“Oh! So we are supposed to look embarrassing? I will blend in wearing this?”

“Yep! And everyone will know you’re a volunteer.”

“So I am not being punished. Ok. I will trust your judgement” he said as he took the Rudolph sweater from you, “but I still think this should be condemned to the fires of hell.”

*          *          *

You arrived at the community center and went straight to the check in table. You waved happily to Tenley, Katricia and Cassidy who were already there.

“Whoa! That’s quite the bow there!” Tenley laughed.

You laughed “Its huge, right? Nice tree you’ve got.” You said, admiring her red sweater with a green Christmas tree knit into the front that was decorated with pom-poms, fake lights on thread, and plastic charms.

“Yeah, this tree’s gay green dress isn’t going to delight anyone. But check out Trish’s ghetto snowman.” Tenley said jerking her thumb in Katricia’s direction.

Katricia walked forward proudly gesturing at the snowman sweater that had seen better days. One button eye was thisclose to falling off, too many washings had caused the carrot nose to droop like a flaccid penis, one button on the mid-section was unironically totally different than the other two, and someone had attempted to fix one of the cross-stitched twig hands- but had used the wrong color of brown thread. “Yeah, I don’t know what kinda shit Frosty has seen, but I’m pretty sure he’s a crack hoe straight out the hood.” Katricia laughed.

You all laughed with her, shaking your head at the unfortunate sweater, when Cassidy caught sight of Ayno. “Oh damn. Girl, is that your boyfriend? What did you do to this poor man?!” she cried looking in awe at the awful sweater.

“Isn’t it hideous?!” you cried with glee.

“Yes. That is just terrible.” Katricia said hi-fiving you. “Where did you find that?”

“The Assistance League thrift store in The Heights!”

Poor Ayno stood there looking concerned: he couldn’t decide if he was being complimented or made fun of. You felt his fingers fumble for yours and you took his hand and squeezed it for reassurance. “Yes, the extremely good sport stuffed in the sweater from hell is my boyfriend, Ayno. Ayno, this is Tenley, Katricia and Cassidy.” The girls all smiled and shook hands with him, Cassidy mouthing “He’s so cute!” and Tenley fanning her face and mouthing “HOT!” when he was distracted by someone else.  

You had no sooner finished introductions when Jayden, who had gotten roped into coordinating the event this year, breezed over with nametags and clipboard in hand. “Ok ladies…and gentleman, what are we doing today?” she said as she handed out the name tags. “Ayno- we’ll start with you. Do you have a preference on what you’d like to do today?”

Ayno looked at you wide eyed and shrugged. “Ayno loves to cook Jay. He’s good in the kitchen- why don’t we put him there?” you suggested.

“Perfect! Ayno, I’m sending you and Trish to help sort canned goods for the take-home boxes, and then to the kitchen for dinner prep! You already know what you’re doing, right?” she said to you.

“I believe I’m sorting toys and wrapping presents?” you said.

“Yes ma’am!” Jayden said as she moved on with Ten and Cass in tow.

“You will not be with me?” Ayno asked nervously.

“No. But you’ll be fine, and you’ll be much happier in the kitchen.”

“But what if people talk to me? What do I say?”

“Well I’d advise not mentioning you’re a demon.” You said dryly. Ayno gave you a look. “You know what to say. My best advice is to deflect: you want to learn about humans- well lesson number one is that people love to talk about themselves. Just ask them questions.”

Ayno nodded, still looking a little unsure. “Ok.”

“Don’t worry- Katricia will be with you, and she is so much fun. I’m sure she’ll take good care of you”, you promised him.

“Mmmm-hmmm. Yes ma’am, Imma take gooood care of this fine man!” Katricia said looking Ayno up & down and winking at you. “C’mon Ayno, we are gonna go get biz-zee in the kitchen!” she said taking him by the arm and dragging him off.

And that was the last contact you had with Ayno for the next eight hours.  You saw him singing Christmas carols while happily sorting canned goods and carrying loaded dinner boxes to the area where fresh produce, dairy & a turkey would be added at pick up. Later you passed by the kitchen and saw him peeling a giant pile of potatoes listening intently to whatever the others doing prep were talking about. You almost dropped the cranberry sauce you were bringing around during the dinner when he snuck up behind you and kissed your cheek as he went on his way refilling coffee.  As you cleared dinner dishes, you saw him lifting little ones up to choose an ornament off the tree, and then later being taught how to play “Go Fish” by some elementary age kids.

It was while you were drying baking pans and putting them away in the kitchen that he came up to you waving an envelope.

“Look I won a prize? I do not know what it is...”, he said curiously looking at two pieces of paper inside.

You looked in the envelope, “Oh those are movie tickets! So you can go to the cinema to see a movie... and there is a coupon for popcorn and snacks too! What did you win a prize for?”

“Apparently others think my sweater is very, very bad too. It was bad enough to win the number 3 envelope. I did not think it was possible to wear a sweater that was worse than mine but apparently two people did. I think the number 1 envelope was given to the man who had the Demon of Sahjoolh coming out of a box on the front of his sweater... I am told it is actually a ‘jack in the box’ with a ‘clown’ -whatever that is- but it looks like the Demon of Sahjoolh. It was very frightening, and I could not figure out why anyone would want to make a sweater with the Demon of Sahjoolh on it, so I suppose he deserved to win just for being brave enough to wear it.”

You laughed, “Well, I have never seen the Demon of Sahjoolh, but that does sound frightening. Congratulations!”

His face suddenly brightened as a thought occurred to him. “I have two tickets! You could go with me to the cinema- I could take you on a date! Will you go to see a movie with me?”

You smiled, “Yes, Ayno, I would love to go to the movies with you…but right now, I want to go home, because my feet hurt.”

*          *          *

Later that night you sat in your usual position stretched out across the couch from Ayno. He was rubbing your sore feet while you watched whatever the insipid Hallmark movie of the day was. You were looking at him and you could see the wheels in his head turning.

“Our life is charmed, isn’t it?”, he said suddenly.

“What do you mean?”, you asked.

“Our home is nice- it is warm and safe…we always have hot water, and there is always food here- you do not ever seem concerned about getting food…your car is big and shiny and seems to work well... and when I want something you get it for me... you give me money every week and let me buy iced coffees without worry. The people today… it is not the same for them is it?”

You shook your head sadly, “No, it’s not. That’s why we do what we did today. To help them. To try to make things better. We helped lift some of their burdens for today: they knew they were going to have a hot dinner for themselves and their families, they knew their children were going to get a Christmas present and they knew that they were going to get food to prepare a nice dinner on Christmas. These are small things to you and me but very big ones to them. We don’t have these worries, so yes- we are privileged. We are lucky.”

He looked thoughtful. “We should do this again. Is this like Thanksgiving where it only happens once in a year? Do we have to wait for next Christmas?”

“Well, Christmas only happens once a year; but there are lots of opportunities to volunteer all year long.”

“Good. More of this then. I like small humans. We should do things for them.” He said as he crawled across the couch to lay his head on your chest.

“Good plan.” You said, wrapping your arms around him and silently marveling at the humanity of your demon.

[grapegatorade]

100 seconds - s.m

an imagine ; y/n and her bff get stumble across a fight after a party, and y/n ends up comforting an injured shawn.

-potentially a 2-3 part imagine.

-warning : contains violence, and mild discussions about sexual stuff.

-flirty/badboy Shawn?? Uh-Idunno

- please excuse any typos and especially mess-ups in the tenses, i'll be editing this later. also I am absolutely the worst at action scenes so um maybe this is weiRd.

- this is only in small letters for the time being so don't attack me plsthx

-

a drunken flush envelopes your cheeks as you and your best friend exit the pub through the back door, arms linked with each of you holding onto a bottle of cheap alcohol.

the back alley reeks but you two decide to push through, your other friends inconveniently got stuck at the front doors where a massive commotion was taking place - something about the cops raiding the place, but it all went into one ear and disappeared through the other. both of you were clearly too intoxicated to understand the complexity of the situation, the only thing on your mind was how wild of an 'i-almost-died' experience it would be and that it would just be one you could tell everyone about for shits and giggles.

"the guy who played tonight...was sooo hot," your best friend hiccups. both of you hobble through the alley animatedly chatting.

"mmhmm, did you see his arms?" you add and she throws her head back groaning in approval.

"the way he held that guitar," she bites her lip giving you a side glance before giggling "he would be good for you."

you pull back and look at her inquisitively out of genuine curiosity, "what in the world is your logic behind this?"

she sports a dead pan expression and scoffs, stopping in her spot making you stop walking as well. she flails her arm and rolls her eyes "because you're a bottom gal, and he defo is a top duh."

"and you're not bottom?"

"not in a bajillion years hunny nuh-uh," she shakes her head dramatically.

"how are you even so sure i'm a bottom?" you throw your arms up in the air in exasperation. she boops your nose before patting you on the head "come on, you're just too cute to be top - or are you secretly a sexy dominatrix you sly hoe?" she wiggles her eyebrows at you in a suggestive way, and you push her away from you.

"okay i'm done discussing this with you."

"oh we are far from done, we'll be having a full blown discussion about your love life at breakfast tomorrow babe. or lunch.or whenever we're not too hungove-" her rambling is interrupted by aggressive voices.

"you think you can mess with me mendes?!" a gruff voice yells, sending the both of you jolting in your spots.

you decide to hide behind a trash can before the group spots the both of you, you pull your best friend hastily with you and she lands onto the ground with a thud. she yelps in pain, rubbing her foot which seems to be hurt. and you wince at the loud noise.

"you can't expect to show up at my place and throw me under the bus, this is all your planning-" the man stops yelling. it's dead silent for a few minutes before he speaks up again "did you hear that boys?"

he stops and a chorus of low 'yes'-es and 'yep'-s resound through the area.

"search the place, i'll take care of him."

you shoot your best friend an apologetic look, glancing at her injured foot before looking back at her again, "i'm sorry." you whisper.

her lip trembles and tears pool in her eyes. she only nods at you, not trusting her voice enough to utter even a single syllable. the sound of a loud impact and a deep 'oomph' makes you both flinch. your friend is shaking now, breathing deeply. "oh my gosh," her voice cracks as footsteps near you and she breaks into tears, silently sobbing. she closes her eyes, trying to compose herself. but the heavy footsteps on the ground are only getting closer.

your friend tries to crawl away quietly, silently beckoning you to follow. you take a deep breath and follow, your mind has gone into shock and you haven't quite comprehended everything yet. adrenaline runs through your veins, and you're relying purely on instinct to make it through. and oh gosh, that's all you want at this point. just to make it through this horrible nightmare. to make it through the night and wake up with a deadly hangover having a full blown discussion about your love life over breakfast with your best friend.

all of a sudden your best friend screams. you look to your left to make eye contact with a pair of bleak eyes glinting with dangerous intentions, "gotcha mousey." the man's mouth lifts up to form a smile you can only describe with the word greasy. a shiver of disgust runs down your spine and your best friend let's out a wail that rings through the alley.

in the blink of an eye, she's being dragged away. the man who was previously being beaten up takes the opportunity of the diversion to free himself and knock out his attacker.

he makes his way to you guys - kicking, punching, biting through the myriad of riled up men who try to take hits at him.

you stare in shock, recognizing him as tonight's guitarist.

soon he's reached the man holding your best friend as she flails in his grip and knocks him out in a frenzy of raged hits. sweat drips from his forehead, his shirt is torn into threads. it seems to be bothering him so he takes it off and continues fending off the flurry of attackers. he looks back at you, spares a glance at your best friend who is now on the ground her head tucked into her knees, and looks at you intently "run!" he commands you, "go! take her!"

you scramble to your feet, helping your best friend up and you guys stagger away. he sprints backwards, following you guys all the while taking out everyone in his path. one by one, the numbers dwindle and soon you're back on the ground, your friend clutching her foot in pain.

he approaches you as the coast seems to have been cleared. you gulp, "thank you."

he nods at you and glances at your best friend. "you should take her to the hospital. go down a couple of blocks and dial an emergency number it's not safe he-,"

"watch out!" you sputter, as a man hits him over the head, sending him tumbling over and goes on to punch him.

you grab the nearest thing you find and hit the unknown man on the back. his attention flicks to you but you're faster, you throw him down easily as he seems to be dazed - most probably on drugs and you punch him continuously until he's doubled over, groaning in pain.

when you're done with him, you glance down at your bloodied and busted fists, and then back at the man.

you did that.

you couldn't believe your eyes, your brain races a thousand miles a minute, but you try to compose yourself, you have to get out.

you hastily pull out your phone, dialing an emergency number. you explain the situation to the lady on the other end.

"an officer will be with you in a few minutes. help is on the way ma'am please wait. try checking up on the injuries, of your friends and the severity of them."

you rush over to your best friend in haste to check up on her. she shakes her head signalling that she is fine. "check on him." she tilts her head towards the guitarist "he's in much worse shape."

you run over to him, falling to your knees. a bleeding wound on the cheek and a busted lip grace his otherwise spotless face. his breathing is shallow and his eyes are hooded. it seems like he's having a difficult time focusing. you place a hand on his chest out of concern.

"can you hear me?"

"yep...crystal clear," he breathes out letting out a cry of pain and clutching his stomach.

you grab your phone speaking into it "my friend is okay but... this guy he's, oh my gosh he's not okay."

"just talk to him, try to keep him awake and responding till the paramedics get there."

you nod to yourself before placing your phone on the ground and turning your attention back to the guy.

"hey, hey!" you hit him on his good cheek as his eyelids flutter. he's floating within consciousness and losing it. you look into his eyes "you gotta stay awake. c'mon talk to me."

he nods, licking his lips and gulping. he takes a deep shaky breath. "wh-ats your name?"

"it's y/n."

"yours?" you ask him, your hand rests on his cheek and you bite your bottom lip nervously.

"shawn...mendes."

you nod, he shakily lifts a hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ears. "you're pretty."

you have the urge to laugh out loud. "are you trying to hit on me when you might be dying?"

"i know i'm not sweetie, it just hurts like shit," he lets flashes you a little smile "even if i was, wouldn't you fulfill a dying man's wish and kiss him?"

"i'm sure i'm only a psychotic dying man's wish right now,i just finished partying,i've rolled around on the ground, knocked a guy out and i'm pretty sure my make up melted off hours ago."

he chuckles before wincing, but goes on anyway "lucky for you i am that psycho."

you roll your eyes and a pregnant pause passes.

"thank you again." you whisper.

"you're welcome, but i just kinda wanna go to sleep, please." his eyelids close momentarily before opening again to look at you.

panic rushes through you, "no no no, look let's count down a hundred seconds okay? you know like a new year's count down huh? come on stay with me."

you grow increasingly frustrated but he only smiles through his pain, and his next words leave you contemplating if you should be relieved or be rolling your eyes at him.

"a hundred seconds?" he smirks, "baby, with you i wouldn't mind more."

"i told you he's a top, sweetie."

-

(to be continued- maybe?)

[songofthecagedmoose]

Rowena Appreciation Week: Day 6 - Favorite Pairing

don’t

you

dare

act

surprised

Okay so first of all, hi, I’m late to the Day 6 party because I wanted to make a manip so bad but I was looking for decent material to work with all day yesterday and #thestruggleisreal (I promise tho, I will finish it asap because I’ve got a shitload of concepts and a lot of excitement)... Anyways, sorry about that, let’s get to the point.

My favorite Rowena pairing is (shockingly enough) Samwena.. Samwitch.. sAm x rOwEnA whatever tf (we need to find the official ship name people, it’s become a struggle). Now, here’s a thread (grab some popcorn or your Starbies, it’s gon’ be long):

I’m going to be honest, at first I couldn’t ship Rowena with anyone, because you know, we met her as a strong bitchy beast and stuff (I mean, she still is, but yanno.. more soft and even more adorable) and no one seemed to be you know.. ‘’enough’’ for this whole of a woman (I hope you know what I mean). I mean, aight I went through a phase in which I shipped her with Cas (ngl it was soft and neat), but then I got like ‘’nah let the pie-guy have him lol’’ (no shade, I like destiel) Then Lucifer appeared and I was like he can take it. But then he appeared to be a bit ‘too enthusiastic’’ if you will that’s the least I can say and one more ship sailed for me. But

THEN

here he was. Sam Winchester standing there with his 10 ft. long legs. Seeing them working together (and then that glorious scene w/ Ro squeezing his bicep happened and I was like oh wow) and interacting more and more got me like: ‘’this could be something.’’ But yanno, they remained austerely frienemies for many seasons, the ship was weak, there weren’t enough shippers around, so I slowly started getting over it. But

THEN

oh boy oh boy, Season 13 aired.. and let me tell you, it was something else, the internet blew up with the fucking ship and I was opening champagne bottles up in here.These two started interacting more and more, Sam was the first one that started believing in Ro, even from the previous seasons.. And then they got to have the convo about their traumas and stuff. And Sam trusted her enough to give her the page that would unbind her powers.. At this point I knew that bitch fasten your seat belt this is happening fr. They found out about their destiny, which was obviously a hard pill to swallow..Sam reluctantly shot her, Rowena got hurt because she didn’t think that he would actually do it and at this point I’m crying my eyes out.. Rowena tried to kill him, she couldn’t anymore, Death herself spilled the tea.. And yet, Sam believes that she deserves redemption.

She agreed to help the boys and prove that yanno, Bad Girl Gone Good.. And then we saw Sam making sure she would be okay before leaving, and then getting worried about her when meeting Lucifer.. Last but not least, we see him owning her for like, the 397934th time.. she saw a chance and she fucking took it. I won’t say a thing about the Charlie x Rowena road trip because I still don’t know how I feel about this, hoe’s confused 

And yeah so, that was a short (kind of) Samwena canon recap. Now, let’s jump to conclusions like Jiminy fucking Cricket.

They’ve definitely developed a very intriguing bond over the seasons, and if it doesn’t get canon, it will be still an incredible (kind of) friendship. Rowena obviously thinks that he’s the only one she could trust, that’s why he would be the first one to call when in danger or something. On the other hand, Sam is one of the few people that have seen her heart, and that’s important. Now, if we consider their destiny, this could end up being either a life-risking romance, or a very short friendship. And let me tell you, I’ve come up with every possible sad ending for both (bitch came prepared, don’t @ me). 

Additionally, I just love how small she looks next to him (lOoKs), and how done Sam is every time Rowena gets sarcastic. 

FRIENDLY REMINDER: THE FACT THAT ROWENA IS 300+ YEARS OLD DOES NOT MEAN THAT SHE SHOULDN’T BE PAIRED W/ A CHARACTER AND I WILL FIGHT ANYONE THAT SAYS THE OPPOSITE, THE ‘’ROWENA IS OLD AND UGLY’’ PHASE IS OVER AND Y’ALL BETTER FUCKING SIT DOWN OKAY THANK YOU VERY MUCH

Anyways, that’s my favorite pairing. This is the moment when people say: ‘’Can’t wait for what’s to come’’ or something, but we’re talking for two people that will either love or kill each other, so I’m not sure whether or not I’m excited for the future.. Agonized? Probably. I will continue imagining that they’re somewhere alive and happy either way so byee

Last but not least, I just wanted to say that there’s nothing wrong with shipping, not matter the pairing’s reputation, or how ‘’healthy’’ it is. It’s still fiction. Please respect everyone’s opinions and preferences and don’t try to create problems or talk shit about them just because they intervene with your ships, it isn’t cool at all.

and yeah that’s it, if you survived, congratulations. Let’s be honest, y’all didn’t believe for a second that I would just make a quick post for Fav Pairing Day, did you? SYKE

[darkmeditation]

So in our titans server, there is a channel specifically for tweet style gossip and shit-talking courtesy of Snapper Carr. Enjoy this glory.

The following was an RP thread, peppered with the fake tweets in live-time.

Jason Todd

Jason woke up pretty early. There was already going to be talk when he and Rose left. Let alone if anyone saw him leave her room in the morning. He stirred her just enough to let her know he was leaving and why before quietly slipping out the door. He of course never expected the brother that never sleeps in be in the wrong hallway at the right time 

Tim Drake

Another sleepless night. Tim was used to it at this point, usually wiping away the hours on his computer working one of his many projects. This time though, he found himself quietly wandering the hallway after returning from a late night patrol. He rounded the corner, pulling the cowl back when he spotted Jason. He knew the room Jason was exiting, and that sinking feeling rose up inside once again. “Are you just that determined to ruin everything I like?” 

Jason Todd

"In my defense I came first in most regards so if anyone ruined..." Jason stopped himself short before they fell into the same old argument. "it's not like that Drake. Despite what you've convinced yourself I'm not a monster intent solely on your pain."

Tim Drake

“First Steph, and now Rose? Forgive me if I have a hard time believing that. I know I’m just the filthy ‘replacement’ to you, but that doesn’t mean you get to just push me aside and go after the people I care about.” His voice was raising, even if he didn’t mean for it to. At this point, he was running purely on instinct.

Jason Todd

"Oh get bent Tim. I know it might shock you to realize you don't cross my mind as near as you think you do." Jason was not about to stand there and let this little... whelp rail against him for doing nothing. "I was up in the catwalk in the theatre to have a smoke.

Steph happened to like to hang out there too. And besides. You aren't together anymore so who she spends her time with isn't your skinny asses concern. And more to the point. Rose is my friend you... You... Ass. Just cause you decided to pay a little extra attention to her this year doesn't mean you suddenly are the only one of us she gets to hang out with." The larger boy was closing the gap between them now."I'd really love to find out who shined your ass and convinced you it was the sun that my universe revolves around and leave them eating through a straw."

Tim Drake

Things were starting to boil over. Years of constant harassment were finally starting to make the cracks in Tim's normally calm demeanor appear. "I can forgive a lot of things. I forgave you beating me senseless when you first came back, I forgave you constantly referring to me only as Replacement. Hell, I even forgave the time you stole the Redbird and decided to take it on a road trip to Star City." He stepped even closer, glaring up at Jason. "But this is just one step too many." With those words he extended his staff, slamming it straight into Jason's crotch.

Jason Todd

Jason grunted hard feeling the swift snap on the staff to his crotch. "you... Self absorbed little shit..." He grabbed the staff and wrenched Tim towards him and swung to collide his forearm into his face. "this.. Is not...about... You!" Each word punctuated with a swing. "you are a smarmy, Shitty little whelp who I wish I didn't have to waste my time with. But you wiggled your way into MY family, and I came back cracked to see you in MY suit and so I am stuck with you! " Jason snarled pushed the younger boy away.

"But grasp..attempt to fucking grasp for a breif second. That me, the dead kid and Rose, the kid with the dad who fucking tortured her might appreciate each other as friend. And try to realize that in a better world you wouldn't mean shit to me and really I would love that for be how it works now. I get it man. I've made your life hell over the last few years. But goddamn it I am TRYING. I signed up for this fucking school with all your your stupid friends that hate me and all of Duck's stupid friends that mostly hate me. Because I'm TRYING to be a better fucking person. But you...you little... Troglodyte. You've got your fucking narrative to tell. You ask Rosie you ask steph what we did...see how big you feel then. "

Rose Wilson

Rose’s eyes snapped open. She could definitely hear Jason and she had thought someone else. But then the shouting increased and she really really wanted to cry because she was just so fucking tired. She stood up, slipping some shorts on under her T-shirt and putting her patch on. {SMS:RAE} There are people shouting outside my room. She then proceeded to slam the door open. "Does someone wanna tell me why in fucks sake you are screaming outside my door? I really haven't slept much in the past two days. " she could feel her anger rolling off of her in waves.

Tim Drake

Fight or flight kicked in hard. Tim couldn't see or hear anything else that was going on. All he was focused on was taking Jason down hard. Spitting blood, he charged forward. The ballistic shield within his staff deployed and he used all his strength to slam into Jason, sending him down the hallway. Once they landed, Tim put the tip of his staff inches above Jason's nose. "I don't give a damn about your sob story, and no one else does either. You skate on thin ice with everyone and you're shocked that I finally snapped?? Maybe if you weren't such an unlikable basket case, you wouldn't be in this mess."

Jason Todd

"No you stupid asshole. LOOK AROUND. The only people convinced I'm the bad guy are you and your second rate Gen titans. I don't give a fuck about your sympathy you skinny waste of space. At least I died before I got replaced. God you can't fucking for a second look at the world any way but the way you want it to be can you you cretin. You really are a little Bruce wannabe" He looked up to see Rose and knocked the staff away. "Yeah. Tim here has decide since you flirted with him me and you were never friends and all I wanna do is steal his happiness."

Tim Drake

Tim retracted the staff, stowing it away before the urge to continue beating Jason with it flared up again. He was starting to come down, with the anger slowly being replaced by regret. He definitely shouldn't have done that. He turned to Rose, the regret showing through the bruises and cuts. "I should've talked to you first, but this whole situation just didn't sit well with me. I'm sorry."

Raven

[TXT: Rose] Oh for the love of- Okay. I'll be right there.

Raven had a bad feeling, but if this involved who she thought it did... May Azar have mercy on their souls. Rose was distressed enough, she did not need this too. She needed sleep and some alone time. Raven ripped a portal open in the space before her and stepped through. As chance would have it, she stepped right in the middle of Jason and Tim. Tim. Really? Of all the people to pick a fight, and with Jason no less. There was an overbearing wave of anger and regret in this very tense, very small space.

With a snarl, the ordinarily soft-spoken girl growled and her voice came out in a deep and multi-faceted tone. "Timothy!" Raven glared at one first, and then the other. They should know better than to get her to raise her voice. "Jason!" Tense hands gripped at each of their shirts and pulled them in close to her. And her eyes went red. "What the FUCK are you two doing right now!"

Jason Todd

Jason entire being shut down as the empathic tsunami of rage washed over him and the small and extremely powerful girl was suddenly there and had him in her hands. He locked his eyes on the glower orbs of 'boy you fucked up' and looked at the disgruntled assassin he had been attempting to help just hours before. He looked away and squeaked out. "I was...I...he started it..."

Tim Drake

Tim had never experienced fear that potent before in his life. In an instant, any sense of rage or regret was gone, only to be replaced by unimaginable fear. This fear was even more potent than anything Jonathan Crane could ever concoct in a lab. He stared down at his feet, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I acted way too rashly."

Raven

The demon drew each of the boys closer to her, so close that they could feel the radiant heat emanating from her now reddened skin. Raven bared her teeth. "You absolute idiots!"

Students in the surrounding rooms were starting to poke their heads out into the hallway, only to immediately nope right on back into their rooms. "I have seen you both make some goddamned asinine choices in your life." At Jason's half-assed reply she growled deeper. He should know by now not to go there.

"I don't care who in the hell started it, I'm going to finish it." With a glance up at Rose, Raven pulled the two bat-boys apart and then slammed their heads against one another. Once she was absolutely certain that these two morons were out cold and slumped over, she let her arms drop and began to drag their not-so-happy asses off to get a proper talking to.

Rose Wilson

Rose watched everything that was happening. Certainly happy that she had called her to begin with. Though she was very happy at hoe suddenly repentant they were. "Jason you should have known better. " Rose said a she placed her hands on her hips. Raven was quite scary and she was happy that it wasn't directed at her. She ran her hand through her hair and let out a sigh of frustration. "I've literally only been asleep like two hours. And then you two idiots fight right in front of my door. ". She takes a deep breath to try and settle herself. She felt like she was vibrating with the anger she felt coursing through her. She certainly wasn't going to be able to fall right back asleep now. "Thanks Raven. I don't think I'll be going back to sleep, but these fucks deserves what they got. " Rose sighed. "I'm going to the kitchen. "

@outlawxhood @tinyballofswordfilledrage @titansinmycrosshairs

[rihstopher]

Cropovers & Confusions

Robyn is being a tease via Skype. She has nothing on but a cotton towel that will easily unravel from just a simple tug. Chris is gawking with his mouth agape and brown eyes sparkling in admiration.

"Come on baby girl. Just let a nigga get one sneak peek."

"Ok just one peek." Rihanna slowly unraveled her fully figured body from the towel. She allowed it to drop to the floor and she begins to seductively sway her hips.

"Fuck baby girl. You thick in all the right places. Imma fuck you up when I see you. You hear me?"

The transition in his voice from baritone to raspy makes her giggle. That only happens when he's aroused. Robyn props herself on the bed to begin roaming her manicured fingertips over her freshly oiled body.

"I wish you could fuck me right now Chris."

"Oh yeah?" He swallowed the lump in his throat attempting to fight his erection.

"Bend over for me so daddy can see what he's been missing. I want that ass in the air."

He always had to be the top dog in these situations. His dominance turns her on and he loves being in control. She placed her backside proudly in the air being sure to never leave his gaze.

Her sea green eyes pierce the screen with desire. She bites her bottom lip down in hunger. Her fingers begin to dance around her most sacred area. Chris is watching wishing he was there in the flesh.

"I need you daddy."   Her fingers are begin to coat with her juices. Chris groans lowly in pure agony. He wishes he can jump through the screen.

"You do? Well say my name like you do when I'm fucking you?"

"Chris Chris chreeeez fucccck damn baby."

Rihanna suddenly felt an object hit the side of her face. She peered her eyes up in curiosity wondering if Chris was playing tricks on her. He's normally a big kid.

"Damn bitch Brown still got that effect." Sonita teased her best friend.

"Hoe was screaming loud too. Y'all know I know Brown got a big dick. I saw the tape." Ella chimes in

Robyn statres at the girls in utter confusion. She looks down at her wet sheets in embarrassment. She couldn't have possibly been having an explicit dream about her ex.

"Bitch you miss my cousin in law? Girl call him. I'm sure he isn't mad anymore."

Ella has always been pro-Chris. She believes they're meant to be even when they question it.

"He's not your cousin in law and yeah I do a little. Shit we were just getting back cool."  

Normally Robyn isn't this honest or open when it comes to Chris. She is normally judged by her family and friends shockingly with the exception of Ella, Jenn and Lele. Melissa even gets in her fuck Chris moods sometimes.

"Yeah Yeah bitch get out this bed and let's get ready for Crop Over."

Sonita firmly yanked Robyn's arm removing her from the bed. She trots towards the bathroom to begin her hygiene practices. She smiles widely at the erotic thoughts she had moments before the girls interrupted.

As she twists the golden knob to her marble decorated shower an idea invades her mental space. She rushes to grab her cell phone before stripping of all her clothing. She begins snapping pictures of her naked body as the shower head rains down on her. After a few perfect shots she hits sends.

Chris has been locked in the studio to finish his next project. He hasn't done much partying or anything, but he would be lying if he said he didn't miss his favorite girl. Since she decided to take magic carpet rides with Aladdin things have slowed down between the two.

His phone chimes alerting him he has text messsges. He opens the thread attached to Robyn's name to discover nude photos with a text that reads "If you still wanna kiss come and get it. It still belongs to you"

"Damn" He replied loudly unintentionally gaining the attention of the other guys in the studio.

"You good Bhris?"

"What's up Cb?"

He brushed them off with a wave of his hands. She isn't playing fair and she knows she isn't. He stares at her perfectly sculpted body contemplating a response.

To Don't Answer: Stop playing baby girl damn.

From Don't Answer: Oh I'm back to baby girl now. Ok daddy

Robyn is smiling in satisfaction on the opposite end of the receiver feeling accomplished. Christopher isn't up for games or falling for trickery.  He places his phone in the pocket of his denim jeans dismissing the whole conversation. Does he miss her? Yes of course. Does he miss the games they play? No

He was doing perfectly fine ignoring her the past for weeks. She knows just want to do to get Rihactions out of him.

A few hours go by and Chris is nosily strolling Instagram as he does daily his newsfeed is loaded with pictures of Robyn. He strolls a little further seeing a post directly from her account. He licks over his full pink lips recounting the pictures he received hours prior to the this.  

He tapped on the photo to leave one simple comment. He posted a set of emoji eyes under her pictures.  His feelings for the photo weren't verbalized but that comment meant so much. He was admiring her beauty. He was saying he missed her and saying fuck public opinions once again.

No less than five minutes screen shots of the like were posted on every gossip site. He was quickly crucified by the "Fuck Chris Brown Club" people who never met him will always hate him for an incident from nearly a decade ago. He's finally come to peace with that.

Meanwhile Robyn is partying it up with her girls on the left side of the island with no worries. She's twerking her life away. Melissa leads her to a secluded bench away from the hooblah.

"Bitch have you seen that yellow cunt's comment?"

Robyn was oblivious to Christopher's actions. Melissa slid Robyn her iPhone to showcase the comment. Robyn released a few girly giggles before dialing the number she knows from memory.

"What's up Mel Money?"

His deep voice sent heat waves throughout her nervous system. It was always something about him that made her that giddy sixteen year old girl all over again.

"This isn't Mel. This is the baddest bitch you can't get enough of. You can leave comments under my pictures knowing I miss that yellow dick but you've been ignoring me for weeks."

Chris laughed knowing she was under the influence.  Mel just swayed her head back and forth at their antics. After over a decade nothing surprises her anymore.

"I liked what I saw. Is that a problem Fenty?"

"Fuck you Maurice."

"Cleary that's what you want. Listen that pussy is mines once you touch down in LA. You forgot who runs this shit so I gotta remind you."

His country accent exuding confidence, that turned her on even more. She quickly heard the dial tone and smirked in reaction to it. If Chris is ready for a showdown when she gets home he's going to get one.

[talkingsquidphd]

Review: Clifford D. Simak, “Time and Again”

For almost a decade, my father and I have been playing this game where he recommends me an amazing piece of pulpy retro sf and then, caught in the rush of work and the vicissitudes of life, it takes me about two years to read it because I only seem to “have time” during holidays and breaks. The first was The Space Merchants (1953), a brilliant, biting novel co-written by the inimitable duo of Frederik Pohl and C.M. Kornbluth which was brutally satirizing 1950s advertising and consumer culture way before Mad Men made it cool. Issued mid-high school, I managed to squeeze it in between my senior year AP exams and the start of my post-graduation summer job. The second was Gateway (1977), also penned by Pohl, whose dual story threads tracked a dangerous Russian roulette-like space exploration program and the psychotherapy sessions of a traumatized former explorer. With an original loan date in the summer just before I left for my junior year study abroad, fate eventually intervened and put it on the syllabus to a class I was taking… in my first semester of graduate school. The latest was Clifford D. Simak’s Time and Again (1951), which, after the customary two years gathering dust beside my books for work, I finally managed to finish when a bomb cyclone and ensuing polar vortex shut down life in the Northeast US as we know it.

To the untrained (read: ungenerous) eye, Time and Again is a typical 50s sf yarn with a mystery premise like something out of Jonathan Creek. Twenty years ago, burly white male protagonist du jour Asher Sutton was sent to recon a mysterious planet. In the present, with no warning or explanation, Sutton’s ship returns to Earth, battered beyond repair but still somehow flying. Based on calculations by the boys in the lab, there’s no scientifically explicable way Sutton could have survived the destruction of the ship and the trip back to Earth. So how, asks the dust jacket, is he back, seemingly alive and well? It’s the kind of question entirely typical of sf at this time – how did our intrepid Campbell-esque engineer hero MacGyver his way out of certain death using only his wits and good old science? It, in turn, begs the kind of answer you’d have to animatedly diagram on a napkin while babbling about mirrors and ricochet effects and tricks of the light.

And yet Time and Again almost immediately undercuts this mystery when it admits the answer practically on the first page: Sutton didn’t survive. He died, and a mystical force – a secondary being tagging along in his consciousness that Sutton nicknames “Johnny” – is responsible for bringing him back from the dead. Thrust suddenly into a world where inexplicable Powers That Be can do everything from read and influence the thoughts of others to reverse death and travel through time, Sutton find himself an engineer in a world where science and deductive reasoning counts for very little anymore. In fact, every time Sutton thinks he’s figured something out and acts decisively based on that logic, he’s smacked mockingly in the face by the unreality of his situation. Bouncing from incorrect supposition to incorrect supposition, trying to piece together a complex time-travel paradox in between being drugged, knocked out, beaten up, shot, and even killed a few times, Sutton is an early sf protagonist deeply disenfranchised and wholly at the mercy of the plot.

This, believe it or not, feeds into the central focus of the novel, which is destiny. In Time and Again’s 74th century, capital-m Mankind is very much on the back foot and trying to get back on the front foot by following a twisted version of manifest destiny and colonizing the whole universe. But with so few actual Men left and so many stars yet to conquer, Man has no choice but to create “androids” (not robots, deceptively, but clones) to artificially swell his numbers and provide better universe coverage. Treated like second-class citizens, the beleaguered androids are now making a subtle bid for abolition and legitimacy. What does all this have to do with Sutton, you ask? From his trip to the mysterious planet, Sutton draws a profound epiphany about destiny – that every living thing has a destiny and striking a balance between accepting and questioning one’s destiny is the true route to happiness. Returning to Earth, Sutton plans to write the self-help book to end all self-help books espousing this philosophy of destiny. From clues and individuals sent back in time from the future, Sutton realizes his book has become the ultimate hit – it’s started a war between a faction of android rights activists holding it up as a doctrine of equality and a cadre of Men dead-set on annotating the hell out of it in a Revised edition that reaffirms manly Men’s supremacy. In the middle of it all is Sutton, who in the present day is forced to dodge deadly assassins and seriously pushy book agents alike despite the fact he hasn’t even written the book yet.

Like the twist answer to the dust jacket question, this dilemma of the future war and the book’s effect on it has a sort of swerve ending that I love. Without giving away too much, I’d say Time and Again above all preaches the long game – evolution, not revolution. While the lot of androids is pretty bleak in the novel’s present, Sutton’s doctrine of destiny for all living things – both born and created – promises to significantly influence the thought of the universe in favor of equality and understanding. But, as controversial and dangerous as the book seems to its enemies and naysayers, that’s all it is – a sizeable drop and ensuing ripples in a steadily gathering pool of sentiment which will one day overflow its container. And while this kind of slow progress towards a distant goal of understanding can be frustrating and disheartening in its slowness, Time and Again at least offers the comforting inevitability that the arc of the universe bends towards justice, which is relatively refreshing compared to the “we’re all doomed and that’s all she wrote” noble pessimism of so much contemporary sf.

Aside from the unexpected flouting of Occam’s Razor in the book’s initial mystery, the novel’s most left-field aspect is its deep reverence for untampered nature, glimpsed on Sutton’s visits to the distant past of his ancestors living in scenic Bridgeport, Wisconsin. Having grown up on an Earth so relentlessly manicured it’s like something out of Marvell’s mower poems, Sutton joins in with the mower in mourning the fact that everything about the planet, from the landscape to the weather, seems rustic and hardy but is in fact precisely controlled, and not one thing on the planet is for industry rather than pleasure. Disagreeing with Man’s addiction to pleasure and ease of life as much as their perverse doctrine of manifest destiny, Sutton appreciates the pastoral pleasures of farm life and hard work, waxing poetic about them for paragraphs at a time:

There were times when the work, not only for its sedative effect but for its very self, became a thing of interest and of satisfaction. The straight line of new-set fence posts became a minor triumph when one glanced back along their length. The harvest field, with its dust upon one’s hoes and its smell of sun on golden straw and the clacking of a binder as it went its rounds, became a full-breasted symbolism of plenty and contentment. And there were moments when the pink blush of apple blossoms shining through the silver rain of spring became a wild and pagan paean of the resurrection of the earth from the frosts of winter. For six days a man would labor and not have time to think; on the seventh day he rested and braced himself for the loneliness and the thoughts of desperation that idleness would bring. (226-227)

Time and Again has of course got some problems, especially problems reminiscent of its distant ancestors – for example, a Blade-Runner-esque female character who initially seems powerful, well-informed, and key to the plot, but whose role, after infodumping all her expertise onto the male protagonist, devolves into merely pining for him. And for a novel which hangs its central premise on a text preaching the equality and oneness of all things, Asher Sutton playing human savior to the novel’s disenfranchised Other seems a contradictory misstep at important moments. Only the fact that Sutton, himself now something more/less/Other than human, is bumbling and utterly clueless, being dragged along by fate, manipulated by a vast network of spies, and punished whenever he thinks he’s got things figured out, keeps him from devolving into the self-righteous figure who thinks he knows the lot of the suffering better than those suffering themselves. As a result, Time and Again comes off as a subversive, self-deprecating, oddball 1950s pulp constantly toeing the line between having big brilliant ideas and overreaching.