#had to do something with these lyrics because it fits the ray sisters so much 😭

[xotherwcrldsx]

blessed be the daughters of Ray

Bound to suffering eternal

Through the sins of their father committed long before their conception

@elliehallers

[devilslinks]

# 𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗔 !

— 𝗖𝗟𝗨𝗕 𝗙𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 | 𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗔, 𝗧𝗢𝗣 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥.

wc; ( 3.2k )

synopsis; your best friend, raihan and you find yourselves eager to get intoxicated in one another's company. what better place than a night-club, dim lights, the overwhelmin' musk of the various alcoholic beverages; it's every guy pairs wet dream. that is until raihan gets shit-faced and excuses himself to the restroom while he pukes up his spiked guts. only to return to watch his sister take you balls deep, down her throat.

a/n: no brain, only nessa and her magical throat 🤝

warnings. MINORS DNI, NSFW CONTENT, family!au, raihan and nessa are siblings, club sex, intoxication, dirty talk, the name princess, deep throating, oral (m receiving), throat bulge, throat fucking, cum eating, flirty!nessa, jealous!raihan, exhibitionism, voyeurism.

euphoria.

that was the only word that came mind when raihan and you got involved in recreational activities like you did. galar was a go big or go home type of region, and the two of you stayed true to that motto. the itchy, messily thrown together suits that matched all the way down to the type of socks you had on— the overexcessive amounts of booze, and the loud music which just barely drowned out the fits of laughter and discussion littered throughout the packed club. as soon as the doors opened, flooding your senses with nothing but the sickly sweet, aroma of sex and other intoxicating chemicals; that's how you knew the had night begun.

the two of you had been indulging, before you arrived on the scene— time seemed to blur together with head-spinning speeds or come to a full halt at the worst of moments. you don't even know how long you'd been locking eyes with the transparent shapes and manufactured blurbs dancing across the wall a good, twenty, maybe thirty feet adjacent to your seat at the drink counter. the weight of something too heavy for your alcohol infused mind to register until the bar hostess was practically brewing with irritation at your non-compliance with her attempts to have you regain control of your dazed state; sat lazily in-between your pointer finger and thumb, respectively.

hell you don't even remember waddling over to the bar with the company you had brought with you. but you didn't mind, the painfully challenging to recall memories mattered not when there was already another drink swirling around the rim of your shot-glass. raihan's shifty frame wiggling in and out of your peripherals as you tug the half-empty cup to the skin of your lips, craning your head back to knock down whatever liquid remained at the bottom. the delicious burn of toxins coated the lining of your throat, trails of steamy fluid leaving their mark as the mystery liquor made it way down your esophagus. whatever it was, it packed a punch and wasted no time forcing your lips to curve into a bitter sneer— eyebrows shadowing your face in a sour demeanor, as you used the hem of your suit sleeve to whisk away any spilt mixture that tarnished your cherry red lips.

you hardly have the chance to open your mouth for a second time to address the swaying body, huddled closer the counter than it is to your own. raihan is a total mess, loopsy, and feverishly hot skin to compliment— he's stained a harsh, sickly green against his natural melanin tone. doubling over in either pain or the sudden flow of too many drinks pooling in his system; whatever the emotion he was enduring was, he wasted not a second longer before hustling off into the large gathering of people. disappearing before his lips could slur the final word, missing from his dialect.

“hh..h fuck- my stomach is gonna explode, i'll catch you-” his gravely tone churning into the backdrop just as quickly as he initiated the conversation; the familiar hum of lyrics to a song you couldn't quite place your finger on replaced whatever words raihan had previously gargled out before dashing off towards the public restrooms.

your head feels like it weighs a metric ton this late into the night, threatening to tumble forward as if your neck had lost any and all of it's support. your eyelids pulling down roughly over your eyes like window shades before the sudden wave of loneliness hit you like a truck. fiddling with the collar of your dress-shirt was entertaining enough to fill the void that was the now empty stool, where your best friend once resided. but that quick fix subsided rather easily and the once overwhelming presence of boredom had returned to take a seat.

and then, so did she.

“shit, rai- back so soon? you alright?” your vision was foggy and adorned with blurry bits here and there— but it was still evident enough to make out that, whoever was indeed now in your friend's seat, was not the person you had chauffeured to the club with.

“damn, do i really look, that bad? it's me, y/n. the painfully better looking sibling. what did that idiot put in your drink?” the speech is followed by a laugh. it was a warm and inviting chuckle, one that seemed to relax every muscle in your liquor tense body the moment she parted her spit silken lips. you had been in her company earlier that evening, which made it a tad easier for your incoherent mindset to process it. but nevertheless it was hard not to distinguish who the women paying you a visit was at this point, even if you hadn't engaged with her previously; nessa was infamous for those enchanting looks. and in your dumbified state, those gorgeous navy locks tied together by aquamarine highlights were one of a kind and stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the room of normal presenting citizens. though your brain didn't want to pick-up any of your surroundings, you found it quite easy to fawn over her in that ebony dress and the way it hugged her curves in all the right places.

“fuck.. nes' when'd you get so.. so.” you couldn't even find the energy or hell, the words to cough up the remainder of the sentence, you were so taken aback by how stunning she was, even behind your bleary, drunk eyes. but nessa wasn't oblivious— you were sure she had picked up the hint you had layed out so bluntly, and the warm palm slowly inching up your clothed thigh secured that suspension for you.

“not even so much as a greeting? you didn't even buy me a drink first; asshole.”

her words are firm, yet so light hearted at the same time; but just enough to set your arousal over the edge. your headspace so vulnerable to teasing that you're certain she knew what she was doing to your conflicted mind and body. her sly fingers are enough to coax you to shuffle your bar-stool closer to her's— not a single word wriggled around your throat in response, instead the tangy after-tase of alcohol still heavy on your tongue distracted you and you were sure the whole bar could acknowledge your intoxicated musk.

her features held so many different emotions at once, as she pryed you for a reply— trying to tell you each one obscured behind that pretty face, way too quickly for you to decipher. her brows furrowed quizzically, one tilted slightly higher than the other as her half lidded doe-eyes stared up at you like prey at a final stand off with their predator; just humbly surrending their body to the circle of life.

“hah, you're one to.. talk, nes' just because 'm out of it- doesn't mean my numb skin can't feel your heavy hand toying with my waistband.” the both of you swiftly changed direction, heads leering down at nessa's free hand. you were infact correct, you observed as the woman swirled shapes into the expensive leather of your belt. pulling bits between her fingers now and then as she silently struggled with the metalic buckle. your groin swelled tightly, gripping your boxers closer to the fat bulge behind your suit pants; it would take an idiot not to take notice of the wrinkled fabric secured around your aching dick. her skin felt like a furnace, contrasting your slightly cooler temperature— but with her body pressing so desperately to yours, you were sure the warmth from her melted over onto your feverish flesh. the damp, sheen of anxious sweat made the fabric of your suit, dewy. sticking slightly against your hellish skin.

“mm, i guess i was wrong about the greeting part— hello there, you look happy to see me.” not a hint of shame obscured her voice, you're miserably watching nessa shift her weight as she now palms at the mound between your legs. you've seen countless renditions of this night loop in your head, but now that the scenario is a reality; it's agonizing to try to contain your primal urges, face to face. it's a chore not to profess all the vile things you wanna carry out with her, but she's already one step ahead. that glare is dangerous, it makes you feel like she's trying convey that the two of you are already in on something devious.

“let me take care of you.. y/n.”

“let me treat you, nessa.”

the both of you drawl out in what would be perfect unison if your mind wasn't foggy and running slower than usual. you had both finally voiced the elephant in the room, the one which was just positively dripping with thick tension up until this moment in time. you're still squirming under nessa's grip, she can feel you whine and pant everytime she gives your cock a light squeeze between her fingers and it's not long before the two of you are absent from the bar and clawing at one another's linen around the corner. closest to any vacant area within eye-shot. well, as vacant as a small room seperated from the bustling club-life can get.

did you think the night would come to a close with your friend's sister skillfully sucking the soul out of your sloppy cock? not in a million years, but you'd be damned if you didn't want it to end on any other note. nessa fell to her knees before the two of you even made it out of view— planting herself in-between your thighs like she was a trained professional; no flaws in her technique as her tongue slid obediently from her mouth and latches onto the moist fabric masking her mouth's destination. nessa's fingers are long and slender, as they snake up your hips and meet at the belt tangled around your waist. you can feel your cock pumping against the seams of your pants, the uncomfortable sensation making it appear as though you'd rip through the cloth if your cock was imprisoned a second longer.

with the head-splitting atmosphere of the club playlist stretching and stuffing your ears to the brim with fast pitched edm that made your skull pound and jitter. as well as the added hum of the gym leader whispering inaudible nothings against your bulge as she at last pushed your pants down, and past your ankles; material getting caught on the fancy design of your shoes. you felt like you were on the brink of death, but the enticing appeal of hooking up with your best friend's relative kept your iron-will alive long enough to rough it out and pass the irritation that came with being black-out drunk.

your storm of worries fizzled just as quickly as they sprung up, maybe it was the alcohol but you swear this girl had the hands of the divine; you were washed away into infatuation once more. nessa's teeth hike up your boxers until they meet the waistline, pulling down on the hem with a familiar aggressiveness as she relishes in the way your big dick pops to life and looms over her lustful features; all chubby 'n decorated with veins fer' her viewing pleasure.

“shit.. i'm gonna have so much fun with your cock. you wanna make your stupid slut already? my mouth is just asking for it.” the first piece is low and almost voiced as if it was meant for her ears only— but the second half is most definitely directed at you; as she tilts her head to plant a few delicate lovebites along the base of your shaft. fingers looping gracefully around your hilt as she admires the girth you carry.

“fuck..” you hiss, cock twitching violently as you pleaded with sinful eyes. she had barely started her reign over your dick before guttural groans and mewls slid past your lips. the sensation of her tiny tastebuds as they trailed over the little glob of pre-cum that drooled from your cockhead was insatiable. the sudden action sent your hips forward almost automatically, like they instinctively acted on impulse; it felt so right. merely a few inches breached past her lips but there was enough speed and prowess in your thrust to drag a surprise gag from the mouth attached to your dick.

impatience was on the horizon, the buzz from copious amounts of alcohol had knocked down a few pegs. you were now fully aware of the figure positioned at your feet like she was praying for a god, and soon you'd make her chant like she was being fucked by one as well. broad fingers clamped down, squishing both sides of her jaw while simultaneously easing your length deeper, and deeper down her gullet like your dick was her last meal on earth. you throw your head back before letting it fall forward against the wall, watching those desperate dark iris' pool with puddles of lust that seem to be neverending.

“come'on princess, you know how badly you want this-- you gonna let me ruin this pretty throat?” you thumb over her warm cheeks, eyes glossy and threatening to ruin the simple makeup she applied before she arrived. the uncomfortable stretch of her esophagus molding as your cock fills the empty gaps in her throat with every inch you have; is one that isn't unfamiliar to her. dragging your pulsating veins along the dip in her mouth, her tongue greedily laps up any and all of the skin yet to be consumed by her.

“jesus.. fuck, oh fuck. take it, nes'. shit.” your cock fully slips into her, heavy and swollen as it spears her right down the middle; eyes rolling back into her skull as it's just too fucking big. bigger than anything she's previously had inside of her, anyway. your core bleeds with spots of warmth as you take the time to bask in the way every individual wall in her mouth feels as it constricts you almost painfully. sucking you in before she slides you back out of her throat once more; repeating the tedious cylce that has the two of you in a heated frenzy.

despite all the sudden and erratic pain, nessa bobs her head in sync, coaxing you to go as deep as humanly possible. rocking your hips as they snap against her face with every good fuck you give her— watching yourself grow rapidly from the outside of her neck, the moist skin now holding a curved bump near the middle. nessa takes the initiative. removing a hand from one of your thighs, she uses four fingers to lightly push and stroke the bulge; almost as if she was jerking you off while you ravaged her inards.

she knew exactly what she was doing, and it had you riled the fuck up.

you picked up the pace, delirious from the amount of stimulation your precious cock was receiving. with your erection fully encased by her face and your dick bouncing off the gummy walls of her gullet, you could tell her throat was already forming bruises with a throbbing soreness to compliment, time come the morning. your rough hands dig behind the back of her head, hands feeling lost amongst her ocean of hair— beautiful locks just perfect for pulling. you yank her face forward, lowering yours as well to not only established authority but to get your point across to the cockdrunk slut mindlessly slobbering all over your messy shaft.

“mfph-- please, cum.. i want- all!” you can just barely string together what sounds like whines for more— i guess she can sense just how close the knot in your stomach is to bursting because she grips the back of your thighs and tugs them forward with whatever coherent muscle strength she has remaining. just in time for the tension in your core to coil tighter and tighter, the lowerhalf of your body trembling with all the signs of an incoming orgasm.

“does my dumb little girl wanna be fucked, that, bad? hah, fuck nes' what would your brother think?” you mock so cruelly, totally disregarding the fact that there is a slim possibility, raihan is searching for the lost pair. and it just so happens that nessa's poor little brother had been observing for a little over half the engagement. fist wrapped around his pathetic cock, suit collar pulled between his fangs, ocean blue eyes fixated on you; your hip strength, the way you rolled and plunged balls deep into his sibling. his body felt so empty, only riding his high off the two of yours', praying he'd finish before you caught him lurking like a sleaze. it was so unfair, why did nessa get to taste your sultry cock before he did?

you can feel the bass reverberate in nessa's throat as her lips nip at your hilt, impatiently trying to babble out a response adequate enough to your liking. her mind is flying, no correct sense of direction as it attempts to form a reply, but all that breaks past the barrier is a few pitiful mewls. her nose is burried in your pubes and she's lost all feeling in her throat, only motivating her to show off the lump on her neck even more. you watch as your length disappears into the depths of her mouth for the hundredth time that night, hands pushing down the lacy strap of her dress in a last ditch effort to find something other than her hair to latch onto for support. her scalp is on fire and she can only accept the stinging sensation as the roughness of your thrusts increase in magnitude.

the club is filled to the brim with lewd moans and needy pants; those of which included raihan's. every inch of her esophagus is being used— you happily ram your cock down her throat a few more times, your balls were quivering wildly. contracting and spasming, boiling with a fat wad of potent seed all ready to venture inside of her. nessa squeals, feeling a thick bulge travel up the length of your cock, up to the head and straight on her tongue; some spurts flowing down her neck while the rest collected in her mouth. painting her insides a translucent white that would surely stain.

just for good measure, nessa deep throats your empty dick with a few simple strokes; a white, sticky ring forming around the base of your shaft after she detached from your dick. a lewd pop, followed by a line of stringy saliva connected her lips to your bottomed out cock before she ruined the trail by letting her tongue lull from behind her teeth. letting you get a nice overhead view of her empty mouth, watching as the last bits of your load traveled down her throat and out of sight for good.

“god.. such a g'girl. you sucked on my cock so nicely, princess. wasn't that a way to end the night?” a blissed out smile creeps over your face, marveling in the aftermath you caused. you gave the right side of her face a few taps from your cock— dried tears and sloppy makeup tainting her cheeks. cum dripping from the corners of her mouth, as a cocktail of her own spit and your semen coats the back of her throat. it was all one big look of;

euphoria.

[southernrays]

location: Fairvale + Jesup/Atlanta in flashbacks date: The second week of July 2020 + Ray’s entire life availability: closed solo tldr: Ray ponders his love life before-during-after the apocalypse cw for: transphobia, disclosure talks, transitioning, divorce, drugs (mentioned not used) and all of the general heart break affiliated with young love.

000.

Ray fell in love too easily.

It had always been a problem, really, but there was no real fix. Ray loved deeply, easily, and with his whole entire heart. He had done so since he was a kid, and he would probably always do so, apocalypse or not.

001.

His first crush had been on Brittany Walker when he was six years old. That was before he was Ray, before he was even Nate, but a crush was a crush.

Brittany was the most popular girl in their elementary school. Jesup was a small town that only grew smaller the older they got, and Ray was one of ten in his class. Brittany was classically pretty - blonde hair, blue eyes, a big smile, and kind eyes - but Ray knew it was more that that. He didn’t want to be Brittany’s friend, he wanted to be her best friend, and got jealous of everyone else. When the town got a new set of siblings, brother and sister, and Brittany started hanging out with them instead of him, Ray’s father noticed the frowns and sad looks at the dinner table.

“What’s wrong, champ?” David had asked, the nickname sticking from a t-ball championship streak of two years. Ray had pouted over the okra on his plate, and not just because it was slimy.

“Brittany has new friends and likes them better. But I like her more than anyone else on the playground.”

“Is that right now?” David had amusement in his eyes when he tried to keep a straight face, and Ray was old enough to see it. He was deceptively perceptive for his age and already a good people watcher at the bar. David knew that.

“I’m serious Dad. I’d marry her, like you and mom.”

Ray was still just six, though. He didn’t notice the tense of his father’s shoulder, the way he glanced over to make sure that his wife wasn’t in the room. He didn’t notice the frown lines on his face or how unhappy he had been for the last six years. He didn’t know that the divorce papers will be signed before their next Christmas, and it will be spent without Regina Turner. That all of his birthdays and holidays and life events would be without her, forever, very soon.

“That’s a whole lot of like, kiddo.”

“I mean it, Pa.”

“That’s alright champ. You can marry whoever you want to when you get older, alright? I’ll love you no matter what.”

“Alright dad,” little Ray had said with a wrinkle of his nose. “Don’t make it weird.”

David’s laugh had filled the kitchen, and Ray felt better about it all.

002.

Ray didn’t have a type growing up. The people he liked, he liked individually, not because they fit into a mold that checked off imaginary boxes. In high school his eyes turned towards a new girl in town that’s aesthetic screams southern gothic in an unironic way. Hailee wore her eye liner too thick, kept her music too loud, wore too much black and metal, and glared at everyone at Jesup’s only high school like their mere presence bothered her. Ray had no idea, in retrospect, why he was drawn to her, but he was. Ray was finally Nate by then, finally himself in his own skin and his own clothing and no one could take that from him. Not the busybodies of Jesup, not his mother’s stinging palm on his cheek, and not any pastor of a Church he wasn’t apart of, praying to a man he didn’t believe in. 

Ray was unapologetically himself, and maybe he was drawn to someone else like that, too.

Hailee avoided him like the plague, too, at first. She scoffed at his worn levis and dirty cowboy boots. She ignored Ray when the popular crowd stopped by his locker. Ray was popular, too, in spite of his transition and small town gossip. His father owned one of the only bars in town that made him cool, and a source of liquor for unage drinking and parties. Ray didn’t care much for that, but he did appreciate the socialization of it all.

“Hey, Hailee, wait up now,” Ray had called out, almost not recognizing his own voice after his second puberty. 

“What do you want, Nate?” Her eyes had narrowed, pretty and green despite the kohl surrounding them. 

“You to come to Nick’s party this weekend. What do ya say?” Ray rocked back on his heels, nervous of her answer. People in the hallway stopped to look at them, and Ray wondered what they saw. Was it the stubble on his chin, his recent growth spike, and the new squareness of his hips? Or was it the same kid that had been there since pre-school, unable to leave that old, uncomfortable skin behind.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah? You do that, then. I can pick ya up on the bike if you want?” 

Her eyes flashed with something dangerous, then, and Ray knew he had hooked her. What kind of edgy girl could resist showing up to the party on the back of a sick motorcycle?

They find themselves in a closet, of all places, in the middle of the night. Ray tasted tequila on her lips when she slotted their hips together. He pushed back, pinning her against a wall as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. The groan she let out was sweet music to his ears and she melted like putty against his strong frame.

“Worth comin’ out for the party?” Ray asked against her lips. She bit his lip in retaliation before deepening the kiss. Ray’s hands wandered, fingers trailing the skin exposed by the black crop top she had decided to wear tonight. They separate when Ray needed to come up for air, harsh pants filling the small spaces of the closet.

“I didn’t expect it to be so good,” Hailee mumbled against his lips, and Ray can’t help but freeze.

“What? Kissin’ a redneck?” He tried to joke off, desperate for her to make some small town hick joke. Because Hailee was from Indianapolis. She was supposed to be edgy and alternative and beyond all of the small town gossip. She was different from the other people Ray had been taking hayrides with since the days of diapers. 

He expected more out of Hailee - maybe more than he should have, maybe more than what was fair - which is why the disappointment felt so much worse with her.

“No, you know...” A brief pause of hesitation and Ray prayed, dear God for her to say anything but what he thought she was going to say. “Kissing someone like you.”

Ray flinched back like someone had dropped a bucket of ice on him. His eyes sting for a brief second of embarrassment before the rage took over. He takes one deep breath, and then another. Man, testosterone was a potent thing, wasn’t it?

“I... I’ll see ya ‘round Hailey.”

“Wait - Nate - I didn’t ... I wasn’t trying to-”

Ray doesn’t hear the rest. He doesn’t need to.

003.

Dating Xavier was a mistake, plain and simple.

Ray was new to the area. He was finally free of his town, free of the stigma and the knowing looks, and the everything else that came with a town so small it felt like a fishbowl. Here, in Atlanta, he got to start over. He could be Nate from the beginning, without any need to pretend otherwise.

And Nate was a useless bisexual. Always had been.

Xavier was kind of a douchebag. He met Ray at a bar, of course, his band playing on the makeshift stage. Xavier was a drummer. He was so dang pretty, easy on the eyes, and kissed in a dirty, grungy sort of way that had it’s charms. He was nothing like Jesup kids; Xavier was spoiled, wild, a city boy through and through, and Ray craved the simplicity of it all.

Xavier (who went by X) was not a good guy and did drugs (most X) and got crossfaded out of his mind after shows. He stayed up crazy hours, usually high, and wrote all sorts of lyrics for his band. Their relationship, if you could call it that, was very brief and mostly physical.

“You should play guitar, babe, like for real, you know?” Xavier said, waking Ray up at five in the morning to tell him that.

“Why’s that, handsome?” Ray had answered, sleep still clogging his voice as he rolled over. It looked like X hadn’t been to sleep yet, which made sense considering the binge he had been on.

“It’d make you more edgy, right, like, you’d be hotter. Everyone’s hotter if they play guitar.”

“S’that why you’re a drummer?” Ray teased, but the fun nature of it went over Xavier’s head. He leveled a big scowl at Ray, and Ray sighed.

“No need to be mean, Nate.”

“Was just a joke, baby.” Ray opened up the covers of the bed, glancing at the clock again. Xavier’s pupils were so dilated that he couldn’t see his pretty brown eyes. “Come to bed soon?”

“You know I have to finish this song. We hit the road in three weeks for our tour.”

In that three weeks, Ray picked up a guitar and had his first lessons, broke up with Xavier, and never saw the guy again.

He was not more edgy, not in the slightest, but he did have a new guitar and a whole city to explore.

004.

Meeting Luci had been accidental in every way. He had picked up an extra shift at the bar that his manager forgot to write into the schedule, so when he showed up for it there was double staffing and no need for Ray to be there. Instead of spending a Friday night alone, at his apartment, he decided to stay. Ray nursed a couple of beers as the bar filled up and texted his friends to show up early.

The Drunken Crown was a sort of themed bar-slash-pub in Atlanta. It was smaller, which Ray appreciated, and had theme nights on the daily. A lot of the college kids from nearby spent their time there, and the average patron was generally on the younger side. On Fridays and Saturdays their theme rotated, and tonight’s was Historic Night. 

His friends arrived a bit later, dressed in Spartan battle gear. They did a couple rounds of shots before most of them took to the dance floor, leaving Ray laughing as he refused at the bar.

Ray had come dressed in an honest to goodness toga, including a gold spray-painted leaf crown and golden accessories. His time in the gym had definitely paid off as he was finally bulking up and gaining more definition in his shoulders. One or two girls had been orbiting around him, but Ray didn’t make any passes at anyone. He sipped on his beer, watching his coworkers make their rounds, and decided to people watch for the evening.

A group of flappers were tearing up the dance floor. Ray could see his buddy, Blake, drunkenly approaching them and attempting some dance moves that made him look ridiculous. Some guys in three piece suits were making out by the entrance. A group of hippies were eagerly chatting and mingling at the bar. Ray saw at least three girls who looked like some extras in a Nirvana video begging for some kind of song change from whatever was on the speakers.

Luci had been dressed up as an old writer, someone Ray knew the name of but couldn’t remember, not truly and definitely not any more, and kept all to herself in the very corner of the bar. She was sipping on some mixed drink and Ray’s eyes stopped on her. What was her story? The quiet girl, alone at the bar, barely hanging onto the fringes of all of the activity. 

He was intrigued, and he wanted to know.

A simple introduction was given. Ray prodded, trying to get a feel for the quiet girl, who opened up immediately when asked about her costume. Ray was no academic, but he appreciated the passion in her eyes when she spoke about something, voice louder than either one of them expected.

“I’m Nate, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”

And it was. Luci was his opposite in so many ways. He hadn’t expected to see her again after that night, too shy to ask for her number and unsure if she was interested in giving it. His coworkers had given him hell for chickening out, and Ray just gave them a good-natured smile.

A week and a half later, Luci came in, dressed normally, while Ray was working. He spent the entire night neglecting his duties, trying to get a conversation out of her and working his own natural charm. And she came back the next week, and the week after, too. Soon Ray was brave enough to ask for her number. And she gave it to him.

Being with Luci was different. Their first date, Ray had taken her out of the city to a local dirt track. They went mudding in ATVs and Ray nearly fell off of his trying to impressive her halfway through. Luci’s eyes had been wide the entire time, soaking up the whole thing with a curiosity that Ray came to associate with her. One date turned into two, which turned into a whole series of exploring together. 

They took turns taking each other outside of their comfort zones. Ray taught Luci how to have fun the country way, with mudding and camping, and picnics in the bed of his truck as they watched the sun rise together. Luci surprised Ray with her deep thoughts, her sharp mind, and the push to better himself with her. She didn’t let him keep up his self-deprecation. They would have late night conversations, under the stars, all alone, wrapped up in each other.

She met his friends, his family, incorporated herself in his entire life.

Ray fell head over heels. And he told her so, earnest and eager and open to love. Open to a lifetime of learning and exploring with her. 

And she left him, at the edge of the cliff he was ready to jump off with no parachute, without so much as an explanation. And she took a part of him with her, whether she realized it or not, that never really came back.

005.

There were more. Some before Luci, some after. Each person was different - different backgrounds, ages, race, gender, personalities - but one thing always remained the same. Ray loved too hard, too much, too easily. Ray was open to the idea of commitment, and committed, too easily. 

 It didn’t matter who he was dating, he was the constant, he was the issue, and it hurt to admit.

Ray tried, and he loved, before-during-after the outbreak. And it went like this:

There was Rob, a brewmaster he met while at school. They dated for over a year, before graduation hit; Ray wanted to go to Atlanta and Rob wanted to go to family back in Miami.

“It’s like - you know - I really like you Nate. I like you a lot. But long distance? It never works. It’s better to end it now.”

There was Sage, a wild child trust fund girl that wanted to save the rainforest with Daddy’s money. She laughed when he asked her to be his girlfriend.

“That’s cute, you thought we were dating? It’s not that serious babe.”

There was Fi, a survivor in a camp Ray had stumbled across after leaving the Fort. She was the reason Ray stuck around for three weeks. They had had an awful fight before the camp was overrun, and she hadn’t made it out alive.

“You’re too soft, Ray. I’d chew up your sunshine and spit it out. I don’t want to see you again.”

There was Ronnie, the permanent student with four different bachelor degrees. He cheated on Ray with one of his roommates after six months of dating.

“I was bored, Nate. I’m not ready to just settle down, dude. You’re smothering me.”

There was Destiny, a small town, kindred girl he found in Atlanta not too long after Xavier. She had looked at him in the worst way when Ray had come out to her.

“I’m - I’m not - That’s not what God would want for you, you know?”

There was Jenny, a financial advisor that Ray had met through the bar and mutual friends. She had always been so carefree, maybe too carefree, maybe just too free in general.

“Oh Darlin’, I don’t think so. We’re not exactly endgame, are we?”

It didn’t matter who, when, where they were. Ray wasn’t worth keeping around - that was the universally proven fact. It was one he had to stomach his entire life, and well, it sucked, but Ray was not one to stay down. He washed off the mud, dusted off his boots, and got back up again.

000. +

Ray tried not to play the self pity card. It just wasn’t his style. But with the outbreak, losing his family, and trying to re-invent himself yet again? A relationship was the last thing he wanted or needed. Fairvale was a clean break, it was (mostly) mess free. He could be whoever he wanted or needed. He could start over, again. He could protect himself and his heart.

Love mucked all of that up. It always had.

So when he caught himself - again, Ray, really? - people watching with his eyes settling on one person, he ignored it. When he felt that small flip-flop in his belly at their smile, he pushed it down. When his day would brighten at the familiar face of a kind-of-regular-that-showed up, Ray decided he would not have a crush again, thank you very much, and make things uneven. 

He could not afford to give up his heart any more than he already had. He couldn’t afford to be let down, disregarded, by someone again.

[silentlsworld]

Chapter 8 Excerpt: TQIY

EXCERPT FROM The Quarantine in the Year now live on AO3 (also, thought this gif was fitting since our duo is dancing this chapter!) 

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Disclaimer: Okay so, now I can say I own a single character. Shannon in this one is mine and for as long as she's here in this world, she will be. I think I'm going somewhere with her and I like it. Everybody else, nah, they ain't mine. Also, the song lyrics ain't mine either.

A/N: So, I posted once already for this period/day but you know, I just sat down and magic. In forty minutes, this was born. Please if you don't know Paramore's Riot album, I recommend listening to it. It was my muse tonight. We go a little harder than I thought and definitely not where I thought I'd end up but here we go. Pt. 2 of the rock n roll festivities. Lemme know what you think!

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Brennan stared in awe at her husband. Booth was playing an air guitar and banging his head around to the beat lip-syncing. While it was totally out of her comfort zone, she couldn’t help but feel connected. An enigma she was certain of it. But as it was many times before, being with Booth did that. Since the beginning. Arguing with him then set her on fire in ways she couldn’t begin to describe. If she were totally honest with herself, she would admit that it had scared her. Never before had she met someone who could irritate her to her last cell but still manage to pull her in oh so close to the point of letting down her walls.

Like her husband, it made no sense, but she was in for the long run. She shook her head. A couple years ago she was certain that she would never be able to give him the 30, 40 or 50 years he wanted. But now, almost seven years later, she was happily married to the same man who had not once given up on them. Yes, it may have seemed so at one point, but Booth had told her that even then, his attempt at moving on was futile a mistake. Temperance Brennan, at this moment in her yoga pants and tank top, hair down was in it for the 30, 40 or 50 years she would get with her husband and she wouldn’t want it any other way. Breaking her out of her thoughts were the lyrics Booth was now lip-syncing to.

We’ll get it right this time …... I’ve gone for too long living like I’m not alive So I’m gonna start over tonight Beginning with you and I I don’t want to run from anything uncomfortable I just need this pain to end right now I’m not going Cause I’ve been waiting for a miracle

“Bones, you okay?”

The music had died down a bit and the current song playing was some kind of acoustic version of what she assumed was a very upbeat, jump around and scream song.

“Yes, of course… I’m-I’m more than okay Booth.”

“Okay, you wanna join me? It’s actually very therapeutic. You know? Just getting it all out.”

“Yes, I can imagine although I am quite positive, we’ll both need a shower after.”

“Well, how’s about we sweat it all out now and then clean each other in the shower?” Booth’s eyebrows shot up in a mischievous waggle. Throwing her head back laughing, Brennan shook her head at her husband’s very non-subtle way to seduce her.

“Oh Bones! Here’s another headbanger!”

Booth began again.

Oh no I just keep on falling And where’s hope, when misery comes crawling? With your fate, you’ll trigger a landslide And kill off this common sense of mind

“Oh I love this song!” Brennan cheered getting into the groove of just letting her body loose.

“You do? Bones, I didn’t know that.”

“Yes, I was out of state working with a colleague of mine on a research project. It was very… The subject matter hit close to home as it dealt with identifying bone remodeling on victims of abuse. Most of the case study came from children in the foster system.”

Booth now intrigued had paused the music momentarily to listen to Brennan.

“There were a few remains we were studying and a few children who were alive that we interviewed. One of the girls… Shannon was her name. She was a teenager. Similar start in the system like I had and the few homes she had been in prior to being rescued had been abusive. Very abusive. Anyways, I was working with her because I couldn’t explain it at the time, but I felt drawn to her.” Drawing a shaky breath, Brennan reached out to hold on to Booth. Something she did now when she needed to feel grounded.

“She and I worked together for days talking about her story. One day, I went by the shelter she was staying in to take her out to lunch. I went up to her room and this was the song she was listening to. On repeat. When I asked why, she said it gave her hope. It helped her acknowledge that any day might be the end, that her life was difficult, but she had a purpose. She was born for this and she would live like it… like any day was her last. She wanted that chance to do so. To live like every day was her last by choice instead of wondering if it would because of her reality. Given the injuries she had sustained, and from what I saw on her x-rays, that may have well been the case when she was in those homes.”

“What happened to her after that?”

“Well, that day, I danced around with her a bit and we got lunch came back to her place and danced around some more. I helped with homework and she got me a copy of the song so I could listen to it. She got adopted. At the end of the study, there was a couple who couldn’t have children and had wanted a teenage daughter to care for. They came, met Shannon and adopted her.”

“That must have been great for her.”

“Yes, it was. It was also quite emotional to see her go. I had helped her pack and get her stuff together. She left me with a copy of the song and a picture we took together. Every day, at least once a day, I would listen to it and think of her.” Brennan smiled softly; her eyes distant remembering the curly-haired young woman she had befriended years ago.

“Do you know where she is now?”

“Yes, she’s living in New York I believe. She had moved to California with her adoptive parents. We stayed in touch. Via email mostly. She would send me essays to proofread for her, reach out about questions in general about life after the system. She graduated in the top ten of her high school class. She was fourteen at the time when I met her. She then went to Boston University. Majored in linguistics and writing. She works for the New Yorker I believe and teaches part-time at NYU.”

“She made something of herself. Just like you did.”

“Yes, she did.”

“Do you still talk to her?”

“Every now and then. She considers me a mentor, although our relationship is more reminiscent of an older and younger sister duo.”

“I’d love to meet her one day.”

“I think we can set that up. I’ll email and set up a video call. I’d love to catch up with her also. It’s been a while since our last correspondence.”

“You know Bones, I’ve told you this before but seriously. People don’t give you enough credit for that heart of yours. It is beautiful baby. As are you.”

“Booth…” Brennan ducked her head shyly at her husband’s praises.

“Well, this is for Shannon.” Lifting the remote, he turned on the song again and they both danced their hearts out. Booth for the huge heart and life his wife had been born for and Brennan for the life she realized she was born for.

Say this with me go We were born for this (We were born for this) We were born for this (We were born for this) We were born for, we were born for

Brennan hopped up on the couch and banged her head, throwing her fists up singing rather than lip-syncing.

Everybody sing Like it’s the last song you will ever sing Tell me, tell me can you feel the pressure? Everybody live Like it’s the last day you will ever see

And that they did. On the couch, on the floor, jumping around the entire floor. Booth and Brennan danced as if that night were their last and when the music continued, so did they. Only stopping to grab beer from the fridge and even then, they were so pumped they couldn’t stop the dancing. Then they drank for the hurt, pain, detours and chaos they had and were dealing with.

Why do we like to hurt so much Oh why do we like to hurt so much That’s what you get when you let your heart win

When they had danced for another hour, they let their heart win for the night. Retiring to their bathroom, they gently washed each other cooling off. Gentle touches turned to passionate moments of love declarations only to then end in them dancing together in a way they had perfected over the years they had been together. Silent pleas, approvals and encouragements. Hands covering the others screams only to remember that there was a thunderstorm scheduled that night. Noise was warranted and indulging in a laugh together, foreheads pressed together, limbs a tangle in sheets, they proceeded to create their own thunderstorm.

A storm so beautiful, so fragile, passionate, life-giving and breathtaking. It was an enigma like them. To Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth, it was a storm they would live in and would make last forever unwilling to force their eyes to see the end.

[sinceileftyoublog]

Robert Finley Interview: Ready for the Race

BY JORDAN MAINZER

At the risk of sounding cliché, it’s truly been a long, often hard road for blues and soul singer Robert Finley. On his new album Sharecropper’s Son (out tomorrow on Easy Eye Sound), he delves into his past. Ever since he hooked up with Dan Auerbach on 2017′s Goin Platinum!, Finley’s 60-year backstory has been more often chronicled in the mainstream, from being born and raised in Bernice, Louisiana and enlisting in the army as a teenager to suffering from a car accident, a divorce, and eventually ending his carpentry career after being deemed legally blind. And yes, he never gave up and eventually got lucky, being discovered busking by Music Maker Relief Foundation, touring, releasing an album, and eventually establishing a long-term collaborative relationship with Auerbach. Yet, until now, Finley hasn’t written about his early childhood, being raised along with his 7 siblings on a crop share in Louisiana.

Sharecropping refers to an agricultural legal arrangement where a landowner allows a tenant to use land in exchange for the share of the crops produced. It was a popular arrangement in the South from the Reconstruction to Jim Crow years following the abolishment of slavery; in reality, it was just another way for white Americans to maintain economic hegemony over Black Americans. “You get all the work, and the money never seems to come,” Finley told me over the phone in March from his home in Louisiana. “You always break even, and unless you own the farm, you really didn’t benefit. The checks from the cotton and from the corn didn’t come in your name.” In other words, Finley said, “Sharecroppers don’t get their share.”

Sharecropping was backbreaking, “out in the hot red sun,” Finley sings on the album’s title track, “where the work is never done,” Auerbach’s blistering guitar and keyboards shimmering like rays from the sun. That said, Finley never realized how rough things truly were. “We were poor and didn’t know it,” he told me, citing the fact that because they were never hungry, he actually thought they were rich. “We had cows. We had chickens. We had hogs. We had fresh milk...It was like we were really living it up!” he said. Moreover, since many of their neighbors didn’t have direct access to fresh food, Finley’s father would share their bounty, from meat to vegetables. And, as the youngest son, he spent a lot of time helping his mom in the kitchen, citing that experience as partially inspiring his love of cooking to this day.

With Sharecropper’s Son, Finley is not trying to provide a list of lamentations. “It’s not a pity party,” he said. Even more than not going hungry, Finley cites his father’s optimism and generosity as formative. “My dad, in his religious beliefs, always hoped for better things and a brighter tomorrow...at the end of the day, after picking the cotton, or pulling the corn, we had plenty to give away. I don’t know if my dad sold some of it, but I think he did way more giving than selling.” Eventually, his father “wised up” and gave up sharecropping, and to this day, Finley’s brothers and sisters, despite only his oldest and youngest sister graduating from school, live comfortably. Notably, Finley also holds where he grew up near and dear to his heart. On “Country Child”, he juxtaposes harsh memories of cotton fields with yearning for the more comforting aspects of the South, especially country girls who “give you a country smile.” He mentioned me that the sparse population of rural Louisiana meant that he had to cross rivers just to see his neighbors, but also that folks in a many mile radius knew each other well, to the point that “you could get a couple boards and put them in front of your house, and someone would ask you what you’re doing with them.”

Above it all, Finley learned from both his father’s mindset and his own ability to overcome. “That’s why I tell my story / So you could start dreaming too,” he sings on “My Story”, while the hand percussion-laden “Starting To See” details the symbolic perspective on life he gained after losing his sight. And the album ends with spiritual gospel waltz “All My Hope”. Even better, Finley offers himself up for his listeners, on tracks like “I Can Feel Your Pain”, a church organ hymn where he empathizes with folks suffering from everything from COVID-19 to police brutality. It’s why he stays positive and keeps on keeping on. As someone who walked again after an accident despite the odds and who was “discovered’ so late in life, he doesn’t let practicality tamper his ambitions. “Like a horse in the stall,” he said, “I’m ready for the race.”

Below, read my conversation with Finely, edited for length and clarity.

Since I Left You: What made you want to sing more autobiographically this time around?

Robert Finley: I guess it was a chance to express myself and talk about these true stories. It’s not a made-up fantasy. It’s real life. It’s a chance to tell what life was like being a sharecropper. I was talking to all my siblings--4 brothers and 3 sisters, so there were 8 of us. My youngest sister doesn’t remember that much about it, but I’m the second youngest, so I wanted to get it out while all of us siblings would be able to form their opinion on it.

SILY: Would you say that the pandemic and the reckoning around the Black Lives Matter movement and subsequent increased awareness among White Americans gives these songs extra resonance?

RF: Yeah, I feel like it really opened the world’s eyes to what’s really going on. A lot of times, things happen we just don’t want to talk about, but that don’t stop ‘em from happening. In this case, it was a blessing to be writing about the right thing at the right time. 

Even me and Dan Auerbach meeting, that was heaven intervention, too. What do a 30-something year old man and a 67-year old man have in common that can reach the people? It would have to be the music. Music is not a racial thing. Music, to us, is what comes from the heart and goes to the heart. If you need a blood donor or kidney donor, you’re not gonna ask what color the person was or what race the person was who’s giving the blood and giving the kidney. The whole purpose is for you to get the kidney and stay alive. Music is pretty much the same thing. Even if people can’t speak the language, they can feel the vibes of the music. There’s always somebody that can translate what the artist is really saying, but if the music is right, and the message in the music is right, it really doesn’t matter what color the person is or where they come from. It’s all about what comes from the heart and goes to the heart. 

That’s where my songwriting comes in. To be able to reach out and touch people, because you want to give people something they can feel, that they can relate to. Not just a cool beat, not just a pretty voice, or whatever. The song needs to have a message that people can relate to. [And] as far as whether it’s soul, blues, country-western, jazz--if you’re looking for rock and roll, you can find it on the album, if you’re looking for soul, if you’re looking for country and western. It’s got a little of everything. That was the goal, and hopefully it’s being accomplished.

SILY: It seems like everybody who works with Dan has a musical connection and shared love of the same thing, even if not a widely known song or album. Do you feel that connection?

RF: Yeah. You gotta have something positive going even for Dan to reach out to you. Dan is looking for originality. People who want to stand out, not someone who’s trying to fit in. He looks for raw talent and gives them [opportunity] to express themselves. He’s open-minded and open to suggestions. He wants to know Robert Finely and produce Robert Finely and not to make me into something I’m not. 

SILY: On “Country Child”, you talk about driving by a cotton field as an older man and still feeling your back hurting. But on the same song, you talk about preferring a country girl to raise a country child. Was it important for you to talk about that complex relationship with where you came from?

RF: Yeah. Don’t get me wrong--I don’t have a thing against city ladies--nobody in the city smiles because it makes them look tough and look hard. In the country, they wave at everybody whether they know ‘em or not. It doesn’t matter because everybody’s just saying hi! In the city, people live across the hall or across the street and don’t know their neighbors. It’s a whole different lifestyle. They don’t let their guard down. I was trying to keep it as real as possible.

The country girls, they just wave and smile, and if you say something they don’t agree with, they move on. But they’ll talk for a while, and they give you the benefit of the doubt.

Sometimes, if you’re too friendly, you can become a victim. If you go in the city smiling at everybody, they automatically know you’re not from the city. It’s not what they do. Unless you’re properly introduced, the person across the hall won’t talk to you or know you. It’s all about the approach. But I have learned that a smile is universal. It doesn’t matter what country you’re in. If you smile, people will smile back. If you’re open-minded and open-hearted, there’s always somebody. People will be glad to see somebody who looks at them and smiles. It breaks barriers and opens doors, even for people trying to look hard and tough.

SILY: On a couple songs on here, you improvised the lyrics, calling it “speaking from the heart.” Do you find that the way to go when the subject matter of the song is more difficult to talk about?

RF: Yeah, I mean if you stay real with everybody, it’s not a problem. You’ve gotta be open-minded and open-hearted. Put yourself in anybody’s situation. If you do that, you can see it from their point of view. With all the stuff that’s negative in the world today, it’s good to be positive every chance you get. It needs to be something people can relate to in the real world, or that people can say, “I’ve been through that or I’ve done that.” It’s not something that’s been made up like a fairytale. It has to have meaning where people can say, “Yep, I remember those days.” 

I have 7 siblings. They all have to tell the story from their point of view. I try to leave the door open [in case] they want to tell what they remember, because they might remember something I don’t or had to experience something I didn’t. So when I was writing [the title track], I talked to them about it. In reality, I wanted it to be a true song that dealt with real life. Not made up. It needed to be something real they could identify with and their friends identify with where people could say, “I remember those days.” I also definitely didn’t want to make it seem harder than it already was. I only went back to the cotton field and put on the overalls for the video because nobody was wearing shiny shoes in the cotton field. They might have had a pair they put on on the weekend, but they definitely didn’t wear them in the field. The video could have been done anywhere, but to keep it real, I thought we needed to take it back to the country.

SILY: What did it mean for you to play with so many of the same session players as on Goin’ Platinum?

RF: It was like a family reunion. We toured together in the East Coast and West Coast. It was really an honor because everybody knew everybody. Everybody was excited to get back together because of the success of the first album. We built more or less what you could call a family relationship. Everybody knows everybody, and getting back in the studio, we got straight to work, what everybody came for. I don’t know how much time Dan spent with the musicians before I got there. When I got there, it was to lay the vocals down.

What I really noticed is that all the musicians played what they feel. They listened to the groove. And all the local musicians were in a 50-mile radius of each other. I could have them all together within a couple hours.

I was probably the youngest person in the band, besides Dan--I’m almost twice his age. When you’re with the band, it breaks out the best in you. Learning from their experience, everything they’ve done and who they’ve done it with, it makes you feel privileged to be in the company of them. They’re not on big ego trips and nobody has a big agenda. I’m easy. I don’t put no pressure on nobody--I just want the best out of everybody.

I love working with the Easy Eye Sound label because to me, I walk in, meet and greet, we break bread together, and we go to work. The work is hard, but I don’t know if you’d even call it work.

SILY: What’s the story behind the album art?

RF: The label mostly [does it] and asks me for approval. There’s not much I’d object to anyway. It’s a picture of me. I seldom walk outside even to go to the mailbox without my hat on. That’s one of my trademarks. I always wear hats or caps. I love the artwork. To be honest, I haven’t met the individual that did the artwork on it, but it very much had my approval when I saw it. Meeting everybody, sometimes it’s way down the line where I can actually meet them face to face.

[emilyblame]

Let’s start with fandom

ok. this is gonna take forever.

Cherry Red.

i think this song is pretty straightforward. and since the main theme across the album is grief (surprise, surprise, it ain’t fandom), i think it pretty much represents the beginning of grief: the defeat after being beaten one too many times. first by his break-up with Ciara, and then their old label (Equal Vision) keeping all the rights to their music and original art. also, i think the name comes from Awsten’s synesthesia, and then he stuck with calling Ciara “Cherry Red” because it either sounded cool, or it was something that he actually called her, we’ll never know.

Watch What Happens Next.

this one is extremely straightforward too, there’s really not much room for interpretation. just read the lyrics. this song is a fucking kick in the nuts not just to the fandom in general, but to the music industry too. it’s a big FUCK YOU to everybody who wants something from them without giving anything in return. and also to everybody who thinks they’re entitled to tell them how to create their art.

Dream Boy.

i mean, we’ve been here, we’ve talked about this. Awsten’s talked about this. this song is about being put on a pedestal so fucking high, he’s gonna crack his skull when y’all inevitably feel like he’s not worth it anymore. it’s about confining Awsten in this little fucked up box where you like to believe he’s perfect and flawless, but the second he does something ‘wrong’ (aka: something you believe it’s out of character for him, or something that doesn’t fit with the image you have created of him) you wanna toss him out and ‘cancel’ him. i’ve said this so many times before but: kids, don’t let Awsten let you down. he’s just a guy.

Easy To Hate.

this is obviously a break-up song. but it’s not your regular mopey-break-up song. it’s about the exact moment when he realized, “you know what? i loved you, but what we had was toxic as fuck and i’m glad it’s over.” like that moment when something stops hurting, and you don’t have the strength to be mad about it. don’t worry, he’ll be mad about it later in the album… because grief is a loop, apparently.

High Definition.

long story short, the first half of this song is about Awsten realizing how non-functional his relationship with Ciara was, you know? in hindsight. about staying away, knowing that’s what’s best for him, but still missing her. and the second half is about how much it sucks to be a touring musician, in every aspect of his life. sad patch in the grief path. low, low point.

Telephone.

this one is about having a crush on someone but doing nothing about it because you’re not in the right mental state to be in any sort of relationship. it is like a little cloudless patch in an otherwise stormy sky. a ray of sunshine. a spike of joy when you thought all was lost. continuing on in the path of grief. it’s the Waterpark’s version of Paramore’s Crushcrushcrush, someone had to say it.

Group Chat.

Aawsten worded it better (obviously), but the idea of Awsten’s voice being all fucked up is that you’ll never know how the other person is feeling just by reading them on social media. and also, about the fact that grief and pain is not something that happens once and when you’re 'fine’ or you’ve 'moved on’, you’re happy again and back to normal. it’s meant to represent how the pain, and depression, and anxiety, and every shitty thing that happens to you stays with you forever. and just because you can’t see it, it doesn’t mean it isn’t there (yeah, i just totally stole Chester’s words for this– god, i loved that man. and i miss him everyday.)

Turbulent.

i feel like this song is Easy To Hate’s angrier sister. like, it’s still about his break-up and it’s still about him realizing how much better off he is now, but… angrier. he’s not just, “what we had was toxic as fuck and i’m glad it’s over,” it’s more like, “what we had was toxic as fuck, and i’m tight as fuck, and you should be so lucky, lose my number.” angry patch of grief.

Never Bloom Again.

and we’re back to sad. but it’s not please-take-me-back-i’m-nothing-without-you sad. it’s an i-know-i’m-better-off-but-i-can’t-help-but-still-miss-you sad. and also a kind of i’m-broken-beyond-repair sad (which makes me incredibly sad.) but i mean, the lyrics pretty much speak for themselves. one thing that i really love about this song is something that Travis also pointed out, and it’s that the line “all the girls in Los Angeles look like you from a distance,” has that dual interpretation of meaning that he either sees her everywhere or that she’s not special at all, that she’s just like every other girl in L.A.

I Miss Having Sex But At Least I Don’t Wanna Die Anymore

again, pretty straightforward lyrics. again with the anger. this is more like, sad angry. frustrated angry. i’m-sick-of-this angry. again touching the main theme of Dream Boy and maybe mixing a little bit of High Definition, i feel like this song is about everything he hates about the way his life was the moment he wrote it. like, all the cons of every aspect of his life. the cons of being popular on twitter, the cons about getting bigger as a band, the cons about living with the fact that he put his heart in someone’s trust and she shattered it like it meant nothing. i love the ending, when he starts repeating, “But I guess its fine, it’s cool,” and it gets progressively more frustrated and agressive, like he’s trying to convince himself that what he’s saying is true. like, if he keeps repeating himself that he’s fine and that things are cool, he might end up actually believing it.

War Crimes.

so, much like Watch What Happens Next, this song is really straightforward. actually, i like to think of it as WWHN’s b-side. like, they’re different sides of the same coin. because where WWHN criticizes the fandom and the music industry, War Crimes is a critic on how fucked up his own peers are too. like, the other bands, instead of becoming allies in the 'fight’ against the industry, they stab each other in the back to get to the finish line first. it’s about knowing who your real friends are; and how far he’s willing to go to ‘make it’.

[Reboot].

this one is a little on the sad angry side. but lyrics are also pretty straightforward; they’re about his break-up with Ciara, there’s not really much to read into.

Worst.

this one is angry angry, kinda like Turbulent. like, [Reboot] sorta states the way he feels about the relationship now (aka: when he wrote the song), and Worst is like, “And this is exactly how you broke me.”

Zone Out.

the reason i think this bit is here is to say, “am i still the boy you dreamed of?” like, after hearing all of this, after hearing how broken i am, do you still think i’m perfect? do you still think you want me?

I Felt Younger When We Met.

lyrics speak for themselves here. and we’re back to defeat… because grief is a loop. and so is the album. literally. i fucking love that so much. stupid sexy Awsten with his talented brain, i wanna kick him and hug him…

[fernwehbookworm]

Woke The F*ck Up- Chapter 1

August 24th, 2009

Kara walked into the high school for the first time. Alex made her go in alone, no way was she going to be associated with a freshman especially not during her Senior year. She looked at the paper in her hand, her class schedule with her locker and combination on it. The hallways were so much bigger than that of the middle school. In this main hall, you could see the balcony of the second floor clinging to the side as the roof soared high above with skylights. Kara gulped and took a deep breath.

“You can do this. It's just another school. A bigger school but school none the less, you like school.” Kara mumbles to herself. She is relieved when she turns a corner and is a normal hallway lined with lockers.

“See you can do this.”

Kara hears a commotion around the next corner. When she turns, right outside her first class, two large guys are shoving a much smaller one back and forth. Another looks to be opening a locker from the paper in his hand.

“Come on Schott. Agree to do our homework this year and this would be so much easier. We won't even tell people here about your dad.” One sneers.

“Guys I can't. I almost failed last year because if you.” The little one cries out.

“Hey!” Kara yells. That gets the bullies attention.

“Got it! Alright, let's see if he fits.” Says the third as he opens the locker, turning to notice the slightly lanky girl now starring them down.

“Get lost. This has got nothing to do with you.”

“I think it does.” Kara steps closer.

That's when one of the guys makes the mistake of grabbing her shoulder. Jeremiah had been taking her to various fighting classes since she was adopted. The therapist had recommended it to help her cope with the loss of her parents and Kara loved it. Loved the control it gave her over her own body when everything else felt like chaos. Her test for her black belt in Karate was next month even.

On instinct, Kara grabbed the wrist and twisted, turning the much larger boy around and forcing him to the ground. He cries out makes a pained expression. The other boys are shocked and then mad.

“Well, now you made me mad.” Said the kid who opened the locker.

Kara twists the arm in her grasp harder, just right before it dislocates she releases and shoves him forward with a foot. He rolls on the ground, clutching at his shoulder. Kara looks up just in time to see the locker kid take a swing, she ducks and shoves the heel of her hand into his exposed nose. Instantly, blood gushes out. The last kid runs at seeing how quickly his friends were dispatched. Kara finally turns to the bullied boy, plastered against the lockers in fear.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“Y-y-yes. I’m-I’m better than those guys. Who are you?” He asks over the moans of the two remaining bullies.

“Kara Danvers.” She sticks out her hand. He takes it tentatively.

“Winslow Schott. But everyone just calls me Winn.”

“It's nice to meet you.”

“What is going on here!” Roars a tall teacher as he rounds the corner.

He towers over the four students. Kara and Winn are both too shocked to respond.

“All of you, to the principal's office.” The man lifts the boys by their shirts and heards them back the direction Kara came from.

The two boys only get two days of suspension and a week of after school detention because they didn't actually hit anyone, though the cameras caught then shoving Winn around. Kara got a week suspension starting tomorrow. The principal was letting her stay for her first day.

“Thank you for saving me. Those guys have been bullying me for two years. I thought when we got here it would be better.”

“What are friends for?”

“Are we friends then?” Kara laughs.

“Well, I don't get suspended for just anyone. We better be friends. Plus if I'm around those guys probably won't bother you.” Winn grins.

“I just have to make it through a week.”

“I'll have my sister keep an eye on you. She's a senior. She probably won't acknowledge your existence unless you're in trouble though.”

“Thanks, Kara. I'm glad we are friends.”

The new friends walk down the hall for their first day of high school and it feels just a little bit smaller.

***

November 6th, 2013

“Breaking News: Lionel Luthor arrested for using his company Luthor Corp to fund an anti-government campaign and also has financial ties to a massive assassination plot. Evidence of Luthor Corp funds traced to the massive explosion in Washington D.C. that killed over 300 people and led to the hospitalization of 200 more…”

Lena turns off the television in the now basically trashed hotel suite. She didn't care, the label paid for it. Lex had tried to call her. Get her to come home. Trying to say that Dad didn't do it, then saying he was just trying to save the world or some other bull shit. The only thing her already drunk mind could understand was that her family was now fucked beyond repair. Someone passed her a blunt and she took it, inhaling deeply to forget. Forget the fake family of her childhood. That she was the bastard daughter of a madman. That her adoptive mother was cruel. Her brother had loved her in his own way, but he had been much older and didn't understand. She found an out and took it.

Once Lena passes the smoking comfort on to someone else she takes a drink from the Vodka bottle on the table and buries her nose in the neck of the woman next to her. The woman would help her forget too, if only for a few hours. Lena pulls her into the bedroom of the suite and closes the door, ignoring the twenty other nameless people left on the other side.

***

June 20th, 2014

Kara paces the locker room. It's the final match. To win it all. Her nerves felt frayed and she was too anxious to sit and wait. Winn appears with tape to wrap her hands.

“Why?” She asks, trying to distract herself.

“To help keep you from breaking every bone in your hand on her jaw.” Comes Winn's smart-assed comment with a little laugh.

“No, Winn. Why did you follow me? You could have gone to MIT or something but you followed me. Became my assistant trainer. I mean I know you developed all those simulators and different equipment to help me train but you could have done so much with a brain like yours.”

“You might as well ask yourself why you saved me in the hallway then. It's what friends do. Especially best friends. I'm behind you all the way Kara. Win or lose. If you lose we will keep training and try again. If you win, well we will keep training anyway. But I'm behind you one hundred percent. So is your family.” An announcement calling Kara to the ring.

“Are you ready?”

Kara nods. She is. Somehow Winn's little speech was enough. He always had her back and Kara was so glad for that.

***

August 4th, 2017

“Ahh... Hi.”

Lena looks up at the blonde woman now standing over her, coffee cup in hand. Lena closes her notebook and raises an eyebrow to the woman who continues to stand awkwardly next to her table.

“Umm... all the tables are taken up and umm… well… the inside is full too. So do you mind if I sit with you? I mean I guess I could just go home but I was kind of looking forward to reading at my favorite Cafe on a beautiful day like today. But I can just go. I should go. Never mind.” Lena laughs and pushes her glasses back up her nose where they started to slip. She glances around the little patio, separated from the sidewalk by a little black gate. Through the large windows, Lena can see the long line of people and crowded tables because of the peak Saturday morning hours.

“You can sit, as long as you stop talking.”

The woman blushes but sits anyway. Lena opens her notebook and continues writing. The blonde opens her own book and leans back in the chair. Lena tries glancing at this very forward stranger, very aware of how easy it would be for someone to recognize her. The blonde is wearing a pastel peach cardigan over a simple white shirt. Behind the glasses are eyes as blue as the sky on this very morning. A crinkle appears between her eyes as she becomes engrossed in the well-read book. Wizard's First Rule the cover reads. After a few minutes, the other woman pulls out headphones and begins to listen to music. It only takes four seconds for Lena to recognize the song that drifts over to her. She glances back up and taps her pen in front of the blonde. She pulls out one earbud and cocks her head to the side, very much like a puppy.

“Lena Luthor?”

“Yeah. My sister got us tickets to the concert tonight.” The blonde blushes slightly.

“You don’t look like a typical fan.”

“Oh, and what do I look like then?” the blonde challenges.

“Like a ray of sunshine gave birth to a golden retriever puppy.” The women stammers, trying to think of a response.

“Well, I am not a fan. My sister is though and she has wanted to go to a concert for a while. I am just listening so I don’t completely make a fool of myself.” That peaks Lena’s interest.

“And what do you think?” Somehow she feels drawn to knowing what this woman’s opinion is.

“Well, I think she’s talented. Definitely has a varying sound to each song so that they don’t all sound the same.”

“But?” Lena hears it in the sound of her voice.

“But, it's kind of depressing. I mean, when I really start listening to the lyrics I just really want to give her a hug and tell her… well, I don’t know really but she sounds like she needs someone who will be there for her.”

That catches Lena very off guard. This woman in front of her wants to comfort a complete stranger because of a few songs. Lena makes the mistake of looking into her eyes and letting the raw emotion in those blue pools wash over her. Something was tugging at her, something she hadn’t felt in years. That scares Lena. She quickly closes her notebook and clears her throat.

“Well, I am sure she just uses her music to work through things. I am sure she has people…” Lena trails off, feeling the hollowness of her own words. The women across from her nods.

“Yeah of course.”

“What do you listen to then? Probably some top one hundred pop star, maybe a boy band?” Lena says, needing to change the touchy subject.

“Well depends on the playlist. Definitely much happier music and NSYNC will always be my go to.” The blonde says, unashamed.

“Oh no. Now you have to leave my table. This is a Backstreet Boys table.”

That starts a whole argument on which nineties boy band was better. The debate expanded into a top ten. Lena actually lost track of time and couldn’t believe that this rather beautiful woman just sat in front of her and actually made her forget her numbness for a while. Then Lena’s phone starts ringing, shaking them out of the little bubble that had formed around their table in the heart of National City. Lena holds up a finger with an apologetic look.

“Hey, Jess… No, I just lost track of time...No, I can get there...Yes, see you in about half an hour… Bye Jess.”

“You have to go?” The woman looks disappointed.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Okay.” The woman sips at her forgotten coffee, making a face at the surely cold liquid.

“Thank you,” Lena says, knowing this woman wouldn’t know how good this conversation was for her.

“For what?”

“I am not sure. Have fun at your concert tonight.” Lena starts to turn to go.

“Wait!” Lena turns back to the woman suddenly standing. Lena raises an eyebrow.

“Can I umm… see you again?” Lena is caught off guard again by this woman who continues to surprise her.

“I-I won’t be here long. I… travel a lot.” The blonde looks disappointed again.

“Well can I have your name at least?” She tries again. Lena pauses to think then stretches out her hand.

“Elena Colby.” the woman takes it.

“Well, Elena. I’m Kara Danvers. Just so you know, if I see you again, I will take it as fate or destiny or something and I will ask for your number again.” That makes Lena smile.

“Consider me warned.” Lena hails a taxi to take her away before she decides to change her mind.

***

“Ugh Alex, you should have seen her. Even in that sweatshirt and her hair up in a messy bun, she was beautiful. She kept fiddling with her glasses and I swear that laugh should be illegal. And those eyes...” Kara flops on the couch in her sister’s apartment. Alex was changing from her pantsuit in the other room, having had to go to the Bureau to fill out some paperwork this morning. Alex laughs and walks out of her room to sit next to her swooning sister. She is wearing her official black Lena Luthor tour t-shirt. Half of the women’s pale face stares out with a piercing green eye next to bold lettering of her own name.

“Her eyes?” Alex pokes at Kara’s shoulder.

“They were this captivating brown. But…”

“But what?”

“There was something off. I don’t know. But they were sad too. Like I just wanted to hug her.”

“Kara, you want to hug everyone you meet.” Alex teases.

“True, but I wanted to.”

“Yes, you wanted to hug the pretty girl.”

“How’s Detective Sawyer?” Kara flips it back around on Alex.

“Annoying,” Alex grumbles.

“Just because you don’t share cases well. She practically solved the murder that led to the dogfighting ring bust herself.” Kara points out. Alex grumbles a protest.

“And you like her.” Kara continues to push.

“She has a girlfriend.” That takes the fun out of the tease.

“You asked her out?”

“Yup. And she shot me down in one of the most embarrassing ways. So I need tonight.” Kara grins and throws her arms around her sister.

“I love our Sister Nights. Even if the music is slightly depressing.”

“But the expensively cheap beer will be great.” Kara laughs and turns on the TV to kill the few hours before they were going to head to dinner.

***

Lena carefully removes the colored contacts from her eyes and places them in the case that she keeps in her dressing room table. She puts in her real contacts and begins to carefully put together Lena Luthor, the cold, badass, rising star. The person adopted and raised by one of the richest madmen in the world. Who disappointed her adoptive mother by pursuing music instead of using her MIT degree. Music was one of the few things that made her feel anything. Now performing was mostly going through the motions, like everything else.

A knock at the door. Jessica is calling for her to report for sound check and a quick run through of the set. Gone is the simple disguise that Lena used to blend into public spaces. In its place is a woman who is all sharp lines and piercing eyes. Lena takes a deep breath, rolls her shoulders back, and purposefully strides out of her dressing room.

Jess is waiting with the set list and banana, knowing full well Lena hasn’t eaten, only ingested copious amounts of coffee. She takes it gratefully and eats half before ditching it in a trash can just off stage. Men and women still dash about all around, preparing for the night. Her band and back up singers mingle on stage. Lena walks up to the mic and waits for her cue to begin.

***

“Alex! You really bought front row tickets?”Kara practically shouts over the noise from all around the Colosseum and the opening act. They both struggle to keep their beers from being jostled and spilled as they make their way between people's legs and the barricade.

“I got a raise. Plus, come on. It's Lena Luthor. This may be the last time tickets like these are within my price range.”

“Okay. But next sister night is on me.”

“So pizza, potstickers, and a movie?”

“Well retired MMA fighters don't make that much when their replacement career is part-time coaching and trying and failing to sell their own art.”

“Hey, you'll sell sometime. It just takes one to the right person.” Kara rolls her eyes.

Suddenly the lights go down and cheers erupt. A slightly eerie chiming begins. A spotlight comes up on a single, raven-haired figure. She is dressed in a leather black v neck vest, leather pants, and boots. Very much what someone would expect from her music.

Hey girl, open the walls, play with your dolls. We'll be a perfect family. When you walk away, it's when we really play You don't hear me when I say, Mom, please wake up Dad's with a slut, and your son is smoking cannabis No one never listens, this wallpaper glistens Don't let them see what goes down in the kitchen

A hush had fallen over the crowd as Lena Luthor began her song. It was called 'Dollhouse’ from what Kara could remember. A catchy song with depressing lyrics. People all around joined in on the next verse, including Alex.

Places, places, get in your places Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces Everyone thinks that we're perfect Please don't let them look through the curtains Picture, picture, smile for the picture Pose with your brother, won't you be a good sister? Everyone thinks that we're perfect Please don't let them look through the curtains

Kara takes a long pull on her beer.

Hey girl, look at my mom, she's got it going on Ha, you're blinded by her jewelry When you turn your back she pulls out a flask And forgets his infidelity Uh-oh, she's coming to the attic, plastic Go back to being plastic No one never listens, this wallpaper glistens One day they'll see what goes down in the kitchen

Kara remembers the rumors that circulated about the Luthor family. Most of it was unconfirmed but this song coming out several years after only renewed them. Lena refused to comment in any of her interviews and ended them whenever a reporter dared to ask. Kara admits that she had gone beyond just listening to Lena’s music. She began to wonder who the person was behind the mysterious facade of a nearly unreachable woman.

Cheers and clapping erupt as the song ends. The next song is a completely different sound as Lena is handed an electric guitar. The lights come up so you can see the whole band and the different lights flashing around the stage. Everyone joins in almost instantly to 'Teenagers’ as smoke billows on to the stage and over the crowd.

They're gonna clean up your looks With all the lies in the books To make a citizen out of you Because they sleep with a gun And keep an eye on you, son So they can watch all the things you do Because the drugs never work They're gonna give you a smirk 'Cause they got methods of keepin' you clean They gonna rip up your heads Your aspirations to shreds Another cog in the murder machine They said all Teenagers scare The living shit out of me They could care less As long as someone'll bleed So darken your clothes Or strike a violent pose Maybe they'll leave you alone But not me

Kara decides just to sit back and enjoy being with her sister. The music is really good and Lena Luthor is really talented. Kara gets three more beers for both of them throughout the two-hour concert. Kara has a good buzz going by the time she and Alex shuffle to the parking lot with the mob of people. They wait for their Uber to pick them up on the sidewalk.

“Thanks for coming with me Kara.” Alex drapes her arm around her slightly shorter sister.

“I will always come when you ask me to. You, my sister, are my best friend.”

“And you're mine.”

***

Lena throws back another shot of Maker's and then let's the girl pulling on her hand lead her to the dance floor. The exclusive after-party was held in the loft of some new nightclub. The concert was long forgotten and it was that weird limbo time that got trapped between late night and early morning. People still packed the club and the pretty girl was more than eager to show Lena how big a fan she was. The brunet was pressing her ass into Lena and Lena let her own hands wander from the girl's hips and up her stomach.

“Want to get out of here?” Lena whispers in her ear.

The girl didn't respond and instead takes Lena's hand to make their way to the door of the club. Jess and her bodyguard follow at a distance, always making sure she is safe, despite Lena’s disregard for her own health. Lena’s hotel for the night is just a block away so the journey is quick. Even so, Lena begins exploring the woman’s body in the elevator. Kissing her neck to her collarbone. Fingers sliding under the white crop top that already showed too much skin. The woman’s hands tangle in Lena’s hair and sinful moans escape her lips.

Somehow Lena manages to open her door and get the woman who will help her feel something for the night onto the bed. Clothes were shed with little ceremony as soon as the door shut behind them. Lena resumed kissing her all over. All over except for the lips. She refused to make that connection. That was the thin line that turned sex from fucking into love and Lena couldn't do that again.

A thigh presses against the heat in Lena's center and she moans into the woman's neck. Slender fingers trail down Lena’s back and then caress her hips. They slide quickly in between the already dripping folds between Lena’s legs.

“Fuck.” Is all the girl says as Lena’s hips buck into her hand. She begins circling the swollen nerves and Lena grips the sheets as she hovers over the nameless woman. Lena is relieved that she is moving quickly because some of her partners would try to drag things out.

Lena bends and begins working on the brunette's nipples. Taking one in her mouth and earning a moan in return. The woman dips lower, finally entering Lena and setting a steady pace. Lena bites down slightly and it causes the fingers inside her to jump, bumping the most sensitive spot. Encouraged by whatever noise Lena made, the woman finds it again. And again. Soon Lena stops her menstruations to let her own sensations build inside her. Her release builds quickly and Lena does nothing to slow it.

Lena falls to the side and breathes deeply, reveling in the feeling of her own release.

“You are fucking sexy.” The woman says.

“Shhh… no talking.” Lena says, silencing her with a finger to the lips. Lena quickly begins to work to return the favor. The woman is easy to push over the edge. Almost as soon as the woman's cries end, Lena stands and throws on her sweatshirt and underwear.

“Feel free to take whatever from the minibar. I'm going for a cigarette. I recommend you be gone when I get back.” Lena says to the slightly confused woman. She nods in a daze and Lena steps out onto the balcony she made Jess pay extra for.

She only allowed herself one cigarette after sex. It always helped take her mind off the women and sometimes men she used and kicked out. Lena heard noses behind her, then the door opening and shutting. Lena pulled on the small comfort and watched the city forty floors below. Despite the late hour, lights still lit windows and moved along streets. Sirens could be heard faintly in the distance. It always amazed Lena that she wasn’t the only one whole really felt alive in the hours after two.

Lena puts out the cigarette butt and climbs back into bed. She stares at the ceiling, hoping for a dreamless sleep that alcohol usually brings her.

***

August 5th, 2017

Sweat pours down Kara’s head and back as she runs through the park. The early summer heat bakes onto her shoulders, already sweltering at eight-thirty. She had removed her t-shirt two miles ago and now clutched it in her fist, using it to wipe sweat out of her eyes. She loved finishing her runs in this park. A big fountain stood in the center, along with an ice cream cart that was always open at eight sharp.

Kara was just rounding the last corner when she ran straight into something or someone. Kara quickly grabs whoever it is to stop their fall, her own reflexes keeping her upright. Kara manages to grab one hand and wrap an arm around their back. Brown eyes stare into hers and Kara gulps, realizing who she is now holding.

“Elena!” The woman's eyes go wide.

“Kara!”

“Well, maybe this is destiny.” Kara surprises herself with how smoothly that came out.

“Yeah, to ruin my morning coffee.” Kara winces and looks at the spilled to-go cup now drained on the sidewalk.

“Well, I guess I’ll need that number so I can buy you a new one.” Kara recovers. Elena clears her throat.

“Kara, can I have my hand back?”

“Can I have your number?” Kara tries again. She isn't usually this forward but something is telling her not to miss this chance. Elena rolls her eyes.

“If I am going to give you my phone to put your number in, I will need my hand back.” Kara brakes into a huge grin and releases Elena. The dark-haired woman pulls her phone out of her back pocket and hands it over after unlocking it. Kara enters her number and sends herself a quick text.

“I'm still leaving town in a few days.” Elena tries.

“Looks like I'll have to take you to dinner tonight.”

Elena shakes her head. The loose bun on her head flopping a little. She pushes her glasses back up her nose.

“I can't tonight. Tomorrow though. I’ll have a few nights off work.”

“Hmm… a beautiful mysterious woman works a night job on weekends.”

“And that's all you will get for now,” Elena says, cursing herself for saying that much.

“Goodbye, Elena Colby. I'll call you tomorrow.”

Kara runs off in the opposite direction of where Lena was headed back to her hotel. The loss of her coffee was eclipsed by the distinct raised abdominal muscles of the persistent blonde that clouded Lena’s judgment.

Lena had to recover before her second performance tonight. After that, the tour was going to have a two-week hiatus and Lena was strongly considering spending that time in National City. She tried to shake off the image of the half-naked and actually very muscular woman but she had a feeling that that would be playing a role in her dreams tonight. Lena heads to buy another coffee before going back to her hotel to get dressed for the day.

***

K- How do you feel about Chinese food?

Kara glances at her phone again, waiting for a response from Elena. She had texted the woman, too impatient to wait for tomorrow to call. Frowning, she heads back to the mat to wait for her trainee to come back from his water break. James was a nice guy. He was friends with her cousin and had just moved to National City a couple months ago. Apparently, Clark had recommended he find Kara and train with her to make a friend and also learn some self-defense after being mugged in Metropolis. They fell into an easy friendship that didn't venture much outside the gym except for the occasional coffee or meal after a workout. Sometimes he would join her, Winn, and Alex for game night.

“You keep checking your phone,” James states while strapping back on his gloves.

“Yeah, I'm waiting for someone to respond. Now put 'em up.” Kara raises her padded gloves for James to hit.

They work methodically together. Kara calling out various moves for James to perform while she blocks each one. They work for about another half an hour before it's time to go. Kara is drying off her arms with a towel when she realizes that James is standing awkwardly in front of her.

“Hey. So I was wondering if you would like to get dinner with me tomorrow night.”

“Like a date?”

“Oh yeah. I mean if not that's cool.”

“Well actually, umm… I kind of already have a date for tomorrow. That's the text I was waiting on earlier.” James looks like a kicked puppy at the news.

“Sorry. Raincheck?” Kara didn't want to turn him down completely. James was a nice guy and all. Probably good for her too. But Elena intrigued her and she couldn't pass up this chance, even if she was leaving soon. It seems to brighten the man.

“Raincheck.” He repeats before leaving the gym. Kara looks back down at her phone and smiles.

E- Can sushi be involved?

K- I guess I could find a place that serves both. I'll send you an address when I do. I would pick you up but I actually don't have a car. How does 7 sound?

E- So do you just run everywhere then? Not that I don't enjoy the view. Seven sounds great.

K- walking or the bus. Sometimes I use my sister's bike but she needs it tomorrow. Besides, National City is best explored on foot. You miss too much otherwise.

E- Guess you'll have to show me around properly then. I'll see you tomorrow at seven.

Lena put down her phone and focused on getting ready for tonight after chuckling at the string of emoji's. She couldn't believe she was breaking almost all her rules and going out with this girl. She never let herself get attached. Attachment led to heartbreak and Lena had enough of that. She takes another swig from the flask and winces slightly at the burning liquid. Jessica sat on the couch managing Lena's life almost down to the second. Lena didn't know what to do without the woman. Jessica had been by her side since the label found her during her final year of college, well when she was eighteen. A talent show Lena had entered on a dare from her then-girlfriend led to her winning and signing a deal with Green Diamond Records. Here she was, two albums, three tours, and five years later. The only person she considered anywhere near to a friend was paid to be here.

Lena decides to leaf through the newspaper left on her dressing table. The front page is, of course, her sold-out concert. Something catches her eye in the bottom half of the paper though. A blurry, dark image of a hooded figure punching another shadowy form. The title reads Justice or Revenge? The word vigilante stands out in the small text so Lena starts reading.

Two nights ago another rapist and Cadmus gang member was apprehended by National City’s Vigilante. The criminal was left tied in an alleyway after an anonymous tip was called into the police. The photo was taken by CatCo’s own photographer, James Olsen who just happened to be working on another story for his own publication. The National City police would like to remind everyone that vigilantism is illegal and the apprehension of criminals should be left to the professionals. Any information about this person should be reported to...

Lena kept reading. There wasn't much. Only that whoever this was had been bringing in a lot of low-level criminals who the police were having trouble finding. Each had enough evidence to be convicted for several long years also. Lena decides to pull out her phone and look for more pictures but apparently, the one from this James Olsen was the only one in existence. No wonder the police couldn't identify them.

“Isn't that interesting news? I mean first the crazy guy in Gotham and now whoever this is taking on Cadmus. “ Jess says from behind Lena.

“Yeah, it takes a certain type of crazy to take on criminals like that.”

“It also takes a certain kind of crazy to do what you do.” Jess points out.

“I never said I was sane.” Lena drawls out. Jess laughs.

“Neither am I. But hey, crazy loves company.”

“Misery loves company.” Lena corrects.

“That too. Alright. Time for the last sound check.”

***

Kara carefully wound the bandage around her bruised ribs. Hissing at the soft pressure that brings slight relief once it's in place. The punch didn't break anything but it still hurt like hell.

“Kara!” Alex calls through the apartment. She winces at the anger in her sister's voice. Kara pulls her shirt back down, hiding the evidence of tonight's activities. Slowly Kara walks out of her bathroom and into the kitchen. Alex throws this morning's paper at her. She sees it. The picture that no one should have caught because it was three in the morning two nights ago. It just so happened to be at the time that James just happened to be working on another story about corruption at the docks.

“So they finally got a picture of this vigilante,” Kara says, trying to remain neutral.

“You know I couldn't figure out how they avoided leaving evidence of any kind. How every camera had been avoided. Now it makes sense. I trained you. Taught you more than I should.”

“I don't know what you are talking about.”

“Save it, Kara. I bought that red and blue hoodie for you last Christmas. The marks left on the captives are consistent with a professional fighter. Most of the men would take significant strength to bring down. I know it's you. You have lied to my face about this for the last time.”

Alex is serious. If Kara pushes this could be their worse fight yet. Alex knows and Kara can't pretend any longer. Kara drops her head and goes to sit on the couch, hoping that siting will de-escalate the tension before Alex actually explodes. She winces as the bandages pull at her bruised ribs.

“Okay. Yes. It's me. I couldn't keep doing nothing. Not after that girl was raped and left to die not four blocks from here. Not when I can do something.” Alex follows Kara but doesn't sit.

“Kara! You need to leave this to the professionals. The police are trying to do their job and they can't if you are…”

“If I'm what?!” Kara explodes, standing again in front of her sister.

“If I am leaving criminals nicely tied up with everything but a bow? If I am leaving them alive and willing to testify against those even higher up? If I am giving people hope?”

“That isn't the point. It's illegal, what you are doing. It has been since the crazy Archer started killing off corrupt politicians in Starling City two years ago.”

“I'm not killing anyone! The police aren't actively looking for me because of that. Yes, they warn against it and try to seem like they are doing something but most of those cops are relieved that something can actually be done. Maggie told me so.” That makes Alex pause.

“Maggie knows?”

“Not who I am. She just thanked me after the third guy I practically dropped on the hood of her cruiser. I wear a mask and use a voice modulator.”

“How the hell do you have a voice modulator?” Kara winces. Knowing she slipped up again.

“Umm...Winn?”

“Winn!?”

“Well yeah, he's like super smart. Like the top IT guy for CatCo smart should have gone to MIT smart... Well, he made me a mask and a voice modulator and he's actually working on a suit for me to wear.”

“Winn knows.” Alex states.

“Winn gave me the idea. He has supported me through this whole thing.”

“I'm going to kill him.”

“Alex leave him out of this. It was my choice.”

“It's a stupid choice!”

“Well, I made it. And I'm not changing my mind now!” Kara yells back. She was right. This would be their worst fight. The never yelled like this. Not since Kara's very misguided choice of dating that man-child Mike.

“Kara!”

“Alex! For the first time since I quit the ring I feel like myself. Like helping people is what I am meant to do.”

“You can help people in other ways.”

“And I will. I'm going to start teaching self-defense lessons at different schools. But this, Alex this is making a difference. I can already see it.”

“You could get killed,” Alex says, suddenly soft.

“Or I'll risk regretting my life. I know the danger is real. That is why I am careful. It's why Winn has my back.”

“How does Winn have your back?” Alex asks.

“Umm… not something I think I can tell a federal agent who already hates him.” Alex finally sits on the couch and Kara follows her.

“Just promise me you won't be reckless.”

“I swear. We don't do anything without a plan.”

“Okay. So why did you ask me to come over then? I assume it wasn't so we could scream at each other.”

“I have a date tomorrow.” Kara grins at her big sister.

“Who?”

“The girl from Noonan’s. I literally ran into her at the park and pulled the smoothest line ever.”

“Blushing, babbling Kara Danvers pulled a smooth line on a pretty girl? Now I know your lying.”

“Well, I set myself up for it yesterday, even though it was the cheesiest thing to say, ever. I told her if I saw her again it would be fate or destiny and I would ask for her number again. Then on my usual morning jog, I turned a corner in the park and literally had to catch her from falling. She agreed to a date once I called it fate again.”

“You realize that your 'morning jog’ is something most people train for months to do once?”

“Not the point Alex.”

“Right, so does this girl believe in fate then?”

“No, I just think it was a good line.”

“Okay, so where are you taking her?”

“I want potstickers and she wants sushi so I was thinking that new Fusion restaurant. But I have no idea what to wear. I mean I haven't been on a date since forever. Help me?” Alex laughs at the pleading look on her sister’s face and stands to go look through her closet.

“You could do with fewer cardigans, you know,” Alex calls from the other room.

“I like them. They go with everything.” Kara calls back as she gets up to follow her sister.

“Well, they aren't really first date-worthy. Give me a second. I think I remember you having.. ah, here it is. Now if only you had… these work… shoes...shoes...shoes…” Alex is mumbling to herself while Kara sits on her bed to wait.

“Perfect!” Alex exclaims.

Kara perks up as Alex lays the outfit out on the bed. A dark blue off the shoulder shirt she forgot she owned with black ripped jeans and ankle boots.

“Blue was always your color. And arms are probably one of your best features. Especially for sweeping pretty girls off their feet.” Kara squeals and hugs her sister excitedly.

“Thank you, Alex!” Alex brings her arms up to hug Kara back. The pressure causes Kara to intake a sharp breath. Alex doesn't even ask what's wrong. She jerks her sister’s shirt up to find the bandages wrapping Kara’s torso.

“Kara!”

“It's fine Alex. Just some bruised ribs. Nothing is broken.” Kara thinks she can literally see Alex swallowing her next words. She just nods instead, not wanting to renew the anger already.

“Have fun on your date tomorrow. I have to go. Maggie and I are meeting to go over another case.”

“Have fun on your date then.” Alex rolls her eyes.

“It's not a date. Our superiors are just glad we are closing a bunch of cases. She has good connections on the streets. I have good connections in the FBI.”

“Okay, sis. But I'm calling it now.”

“Calling what?”

“Being the maid of honor at your wedding.” Alex begins sputtering in response.

“Goodbye, Kara. Remember the three date rule.”

“Three date rule?” That gives Alex some of her swagger back.

“Bye Kara.” She calls over her shoulder on the way to the door.

“Alex!” Kara calls after the woman, the door shuts without further explanation.

[personagf-moved]

alphabet & soft questions ✨

I was tagged by my bb’s @prksjmiin (alphabet ask) and @joonieblossoms (soft ask) and i didn’t want to make two separate posts so im gonna apologize in advance bc i decided to stick both posts together :’) dkdkkdkd yall aint gotta read everything but if u do ily and im sorry i write novels on novels dlfksdkf

i’ll tag @koyasdad, @1ovegf, @joonlit, @sleepyyyoongs, @constellationstars and @capgi 💘

honestly feel free to do either one or both or none if u want dkkdkdkd i just wanted to tag u guys bc ily

Alphabet ask:

a // age: 21

b // birthplace: new jersey!

c // current time: 1:17 am

d // drink you had last: coffee

e // easiest person to talk to: my brother when he isnt being an absolute fool

f // favorite songs: 

aint it fun - paramore

trivia love 

honey - kehlani

abbey - mitski

moonlight - ariana grande

g // grossest memory: i was in the city one time and a bird shit on my forehead. i think about it at least twice a week 

h // horror yes or horror no:  H O R R O R   Y E S   B A B E E E Y Y Y Y Y Y Y im the absolute worst person i’ll dead ass watch a scary movie/video or read horror stories by myself just bc. 

i // in love: with my whole ass soulmate namjoon. i luv u string bean man

j // jealous of people: im not even gonna try to lie i am a very jealous person and i am so sorry about it but i really cant help it lmfao. blame my scorpio venus i guess

k // kids of your own someday: when i say i have been thinking about this everyday.........! i wanna have it all i want the kids the white picket fence the dream house everything. i cant wait to be a mommy one day and love n support my bb’s :’)

l // love at first sight or should i walk by again: we a whole ass fool on main and believe in love at first sight!!!! i really do believe soulmates are a true thing and if a love is destined to be across an infinite span of lifetimes and universes then it will always find its way back. when you know, you know, and i genuinely believe that. 

m // middle name: padilla

n // number of siblings: 1 older brother, 1 half brother (older), and 1 half sister (older)

o // one wish: to find true love

p // person you last called: my manager bc i had a work question lol

q // question you’re always asked: “why are you like this” (usually friends @ me when i wild out...which is like everyday), “are you mad?”, “how old are you REALLY?”, “how’s your brother?” (bc he ghosts all family n i have to speak on his behalf like always fsdfjksdf)

r // random fact about you: i once used a horrible bootleg copy of the force awakens to make a star wars crack video dubbing the part in shrek when he first meets donkey over the scene when rey first met bb-8 and it went viral and has like 200,000 notes and even had articles written about it. also i had a weird fascination with jar jar binks and danny devito when i was in high school and i had a habit of making either one of them my icon on school accounts so i could make people laugh when they emailed me or saw me in a word document skfkkkfkf

s // song you last sang: “abbey” by mitski :’(

t // time you woke up: exactly 10 this morning and it was weird bc i picked up my phone and it had JUST turned 10 when i looked i was so shook lol 

u // underwear colour: she be black 

v // vacation destination: paris bc im a basic bitch :’) also japan/all asian countries. i wanna connect with my roots more :/

w // worst habit: yeeting the fuck outta people’s lives when i think they’re getting too close/when i get overwhelmed. im sorry im a flighty bitch @ anyone i’ve ever ghosted :( i love anyone who’s ever tried to talk to me and its never ur fault, i just get the urge to escape sometimes and i’m trying to fix it 

x // x-rays: omg @ tori dead ass me too tho, i had x-rays when i broke my arm when i was around 6 :o

y // your favorite food: my mom’s spaghetti! and sushi. also i love any and all filipino food but specifically i like nilaga and kare-kare oooo baby

z // zodiac sign: we’re a proud libra sun 

Soft ask:

What’s the smell of your shampoo?

we got them fruity scents up in here we keep that shit smellin like a goddamn strawberry field take a fuckin whiff babes

What’s your aesthetic?

the moon and stars, soft pink and purple sunsets with a burning red on the horizon, sunrises as well, paintings and generally all art revolving around flowers and the celestial, pretty pastel pink and yellow, the sound and smell of rain falling against the window while being curled up in bed uwu 

What’s your favorite time of the day and why?

lately it’s been night time. i generally get more creative and feel more at home during the night. i miss being a morning person tho. 

What do you most like about the beach?

not a lot fklsjdjfkslkdflksdlkf i usually only go to get a tan and walk the boardwalk with my friends, but if i had it my way i would never step foot in the ocean for the rest of my life sdjdjdjdjsj we dont trust her!!!!!!!!!

What do you worry about constantly?

when i’m gonna figure out what i wanna do with my life lol. i took a year off to think about it but all i ended up doing was working myself to exhaustion and getting comfy in a work only mindset and now i’m only even more confused about what i want to pursue. i’m just glad im going to chicago next week because i feel like a change of setting for even just a week could give me a much needed reset on my mindset going into the next year. i worry about the future but the problem is i worry about the present too lol. oh well, we’ll figure it out!

What is a song you’ve cried to before?

oh boy...

trivia love

moonchild

first love

she used to be mine - waitress soundtrack

20 something - sza

26 - paramore

the letter - kehlani

landslide - fleetwood mac

when you see my friends - mayday parade

and many........many many more...... skskskks music is my main emotional outlet so naturally im gonna cry over anything that reflects my heart

What are some relaxing tips for your followers?

as The World’s Number One Most Stressed Out Human Being™️ i am definitely in no way fit to give advice on how to relax LMFAO 

but i guess something that always works for me is putting on music i KNOW will make me sing a long or make me happy to distract me from the nerves i’m feeling. also putting on my favorite comfort movies to make me feel better (they’re big fish, scott pilgrim vs the world, and spirited away btw lol)

 What are some things that make you tear up?

the ending of coco, seeing my mom cry, or anyone i love cry tbh, when children are neglected/abused, thinking about the world i’ll have to bring my future children into and how i’m going to be able to teach them to stay strong and bright in the face of it, lyrics that hit too close to home, absolutely anything tbh i cry easy

What is your favorite from each sense?

sight - the view of my cherry blossom tree against a pink sunset in the spring of my childhood home, a person’s eyes and how they light up when they smile, especially when they crinkle as they laugh

smell - the earth after rain, a forest in autumn

taste - my mom’s cooking, good coffee on an early morning

sound - beautiful melodies and harmonies to accompany them, a baby cooing, birds chirping at sunrise

touch - my pillow when its nice and cool, a cat’s tummy, a baby’s cheeks, fingers running through my hair

What is an alternative reality you’d like to live in?

one where im married to namjoon n we have a lot of smart musical prodigy babies who have his dopey smile and i live comfortably in our big ass home in korea where i raise our babies n get that good pipe down every night like i should

jk i wanna live in a reality where magic is real and i can cast spells and live my best life as the true witch that i am

What are some troubles you face on a daily basis?

for starters im ugly as shit so theres one

if we mean practically then i have really bad knees and i recently busted them again so its been really hard getting up and down stairs lately and bending over 

but idk theres not really much. emotionally i just tend to get withdrawn and timid in public so it can be hard for me to speak up when i go out

What is one scene from a book that makes you really sad?

unfortunately i haven’t read as many books lately as i did when i was younger...so a lot of my memories are from books that i read like as a kid lol......THAT BEING SAID i think rue and finnick’s death in the hunger games was truly heartbreaking to read, the spine of my copies of both books have cracks on those pages bc i had to read it several times just to really believe it. also i thought it was written so heart wrenchingly well that i had to go back.  also in looking for alaska when pudge, a man who loved to know people’s last words, realized that he would never know alaska’s last words. im also really thankful for that book bc it introduced me to wh auden’s poetry and to this day he’s still one of my favorite poets of all time.  

Say something to your followers:

thank you thank you thank you thank you THANK YOU for following me and for some reason deciding to stay after how many times i act up on the daily. all jokes aside i really appreciate every single one of you no matter the number and i sincerely hope that you always have love and joy in your heart and that 2019 treats you well. i HONESTLY mean it when i say that i am always here if you guys want to talk or send me things or roast me or talk shit seriously i wanna hear it all and talk about it all i think all of you are so interesting and so beautiful and i’d love to get to know more about you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU GUYS! yeet!

[tenecity]

dead

requested: yes

genre: angst, a little fluff

masterlist 

❝ you say you can live without me so why aren’t you dead yet?❞ —dead, by Madison Beer

❝ you could be here, but you’re there. ❞

You irritatingly press the phone icon again and press the now warm screen again your hot ear. Pacing up and down the empty hallway, your teeth capture your lips again and they knaw hard on the chapped skin, breaking it eventually, a light trickle of blood staining your pale lips, but you couldn’t care less. All you care about at the moment is, where is Chengcheng?

For the 30th time, he doesn’t answer and your determination breaks down into nothingness. Collapsing on the couch, you face the door, heavy eyelids trying not to fall shut as you curl your body in, hope against hope that Chengcheng will come back home today.

And he does.

It’s 5:20am when you open your eyes to the light creak of your door. You open your eyes as a blurry figure appears at the doorway, trying as much as possible to be quiet. Seeing that you are already awake however, he noisily drops his shoes and lets out a loud sigh, making his way towards you. “I’m so sorry princess. Work got us up all night, I couldn’t come back any earlier.” The smiling facade takes over your furrowed brows and you let out a soft smile. “It’s okay. I know you’ve got a lot of work to do. It’s okay.” Fingers thread through his soft locks and you run your fingers through his hair, combing the messy locks back and a genuine smile plays on your lips as he leans in to your touch.

“Can I make up to it?”

The softly said words don’t wait for an answer as he leans in, dry but soft lips meeting your chapped ones. The same bubbling sensation, that same, familiar feeling of want courses through your veins as you loop your arms around his, carefully sitting up as he makes his way to sit on the couch, gently shifting you to sit comfortably on his lap.

His fingers dance against skin, hands tracking soothing circles on back. Lips find their way slowly trailing their way to your jawline and down your neck, pressing soft kisses against your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“I love you”s were whispered against the smooth skins, onto each other’s lips, echoing through the empty flat. You sigh, whether in pleasure or in relief that he is finally back, finally right next to you, you have no idea. You just know he leaves your skin burning at his touch, sparks at where his lips meet yours, leaving your mind fuzzing like you’ve been drunk.

Eventually, the two of you pull apart breathless but grinning like idiots, foreheads leaned against each other as you steady your breaths. As the puffs of air slow, he gently carries you towards the bed, crawling under the covers, holding your head close to his chest.

And as you snuggle into the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath of his cinnamon scent, your lips pull into a smile.

He is finally here, and not there, somewhere.

-

Morning sun rays filter gently through your fluttering lace curtains, causing your eyelids to flutter open. Your arms stretch, in hopes of finding a certain boy next to you, but the mattress is cold as always, and he is no longer there. Emptiness fills the pit of your stomach as you scroll through your phone. Once again, you find his apology message, same as always; “I’m so sorry princess, the manager called us early, so I had to go first. See you soon princess, :)”

But right from the very first words to the last few characters, you know he is lying. He never “sees you soon”. The last time you two actually met, actually had physical contact like last night’s, was 21 and ⅔ days ago. 520 hours ago. The last time, as always, he had said he was sorry and he would see you soon.

But, if he really was that sorry,

Why did he have to come to you only 520 hours later, to say I love you?

-

It’s a lovely Saturday. The rain drops have evaporated from last night’s storm, leaving the atmosphere cool and fresh, crisp with some morning dew.

Taking large strides, you count the number of steps you need to reach from one end of the park to another. As numbers fill your mind, you try hard to distract yourself, but images of him, laughing, head thrown back; kissing, mature and reliable; eyes darting, not meeting yours as he tries to find another excuse for not coming home; your messages not answered till one, two days later, even though you could clearly see that he was active on Weibo.

-

When you saw Chengcheng in high school, you didn’t see what everyone saw. You didn’t see him as Fan Bingbing’s sister, you didn’t see him as a spoilt, rich kid, you didn’t see him as 高冷, high, mighty and cold.

You saw through the layers of facades, you saw through the labels and identities stuck on to him. You saw him, Fan Chengcheng, authentic, raw. You saw a boy, mature beyond his years, understanding that he needed to be a step ahead of everyone else in order to excel. Understanding that he had a name to live up to, and yet at the same time, was looking for ways to carve an identity for himself, one not tarnished with his sister’s fame, or his family’s riches or the names the bullies in school called him.

He was looking to create an identity that belonged to him, and him only.

And you loved him for that. You loved how he wasn’t willing to hide in the shadows as many family members of celebrities do. He was willing to step out, acknowledge his sister’s success, but at the same time, declare that he was a different person, he wasn’t his sister. He was determined to succeed with his own hardwork and talent, and not make use of a foundation that wasn’t intended for him.

You two, well, were partners in crime. Skipping class occasionally, having dates at the nearby ice cream store, sleeping in class, blowing up some chemicals in the lab. You two were complementary pieces of a puzzle; fitting perfectly with each other.

When you heard that he wanted to become an idol, you were all for it. You gave him your utmost support, cheering him on in the background.

But perhaps because you were in the background, you felt like you were fading with the black and white wallpapers, becoming invisible.

He didn’t go public with your relationship, claiming his manager said it would “decrease his market value”. He didn’t acknowledge you when you passed by each other backstage, in front of the cameras, claiming that he didn’t want people to start rumours and say mean things about you.

He said he was trying to protect you, protect us.

But you couldn’t help but wonder. What if he was lying?

He whispered comforting words into your hair over and over again, denying the above. And you believed every word of it. You sucked it up, telling yourself, you chose this, you chose to be the girlfriend of an up and coming famous idol. You knew this was going to happen.

But sometimes you wonder. Was this really what was supposed to happen? Ignored, until he needed something from you? Did you not do enough, to at least receive just a tiny bit of his attention or affection?

Recently, he hardly comes home. Your observant eyes and paranoid mind scrutinised every weibo update, every fanmeet, every commercial. And your heart sinks at your conclusion.

He looks so happy in the updates, in the fanmeets, genuinely enjoying himself. You’ve known him for so long, so well. You know what’s genuine and what isn’t.

The smile in front of those cameras, those cheeky grins, that laughter, all of it was genuine.

But in front of you, that soft smile that leaves the corner of his lips just slightly downturned, the grins that don’t quite meet his eyes, the fleeting laughter, it was like he put them up just for show.

They weren’t genuine anymore.

You realise, slowly and surely, as your heart starts to tear bit by bit, ripping apart every time he comes home—he only ever comes back when something terrible happens at work.

He comes home, steals a steamy kiss or two, sleeps next to you for an hour or two, and goes back out again, to solve that one pitch he can’t hit, to solve those lyrics that he can’t seem to rhyme.

-

It was like he was drunk whenever he came back, drunk on exhaustion, drunk on stress, drunk on his work.

And you were the cure for that drunkenness, a medication used specifically when he was drunk, when he needed to lash out his anger and relieve his stress.

You were just a toy in our dear Fan Chengcheng’s game to success. Just a pawn, love.

Footsteps halt abruptly at that thought. Whipping out your phone, you text him.

you

Tonight’s our 2 year anniversary, Chengcheng. Dinner at 6? :)

prince cheng

Of course, princess :) The Chinese restaurant across our place?

you

Sure

-

It’s 5.20pm and you look at yourself in the mirror. Perfect. You nod at yourself, approving of your look. Chengcheng would love it.

5.40pm, you leave for the restaurant, taking your time as you drink in the bustling city life.

6.00pm, he isn’t here.

6.30pm, he calls but you don’t pick it up.

6.40pm, he calls for the tenth time, and you eventually answer.

“Princess, you ok? I called so many times-”

“Chengcheng, where are you?”

“Look, I’m sorry princess. It’s just...Xukun made up this sick beat and melody and I was so absorbed in writing the lyrics, I forgot about the time. Y/n, this song’s going to be such a hit, it’s sooooo good, Kun-ge is a genius, honestly. Here, you want to listen to it-”

“It’s okay. See you soon, Chengcheng.” You say softly, and tap ‘End Call’, your phone shutting off with a soft click of the button.

12.40am, he rushed back home just as you’re about to go to bed.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry, I really-”

“Let’s break up.” You’re surprised at how calm you sound, when a storm is raging inside of you.

“What?”

“I said let’s break up.”

“Why? Just because I didn’t come home for our second year anniversary? Don’t be petty, y/n.”

You scoff. “Petty? Me, petty?” A sarcastic laugh ripples through the air. “I’m not being petty, Fan Chengcheng. Listen carefully. I’m just wanting what any girlfriend would want. Attention, affection, love, Fan Chengcheng! You only ever come back when you’ve got some music block or something, do you realise that?

“You’re just using me to relieve your stress, just to help you get through your rough times at work. And while that’s what I should be doing, Chengcheng, I need you too. 

“This isn’t a one sided thing, ok? This is me and you, this is us. Did I not do enough for you to even sacrifice your work for once and come back here?” Hot tears stream down your flushed face. 

You squint at him through your blurry vision, hoping to find a trace of concern or guilt on his face. But his pale face is blank. Just blank. Emotionless.

“Y/n, I’m an idol. My work is important ok? I can’t stop working. The moment I stop working, someone is going to take my place and-”

“Oh,” you throw your hands up in mock surrender. “So your work is so important to a point where I don’t matter any more, is that it?”

“Y/n, will you stop overreacting! That’s not what I meant-”

“Do you even love me anymore?” You hate how vulnerable you sound.

“....”

The smile that tugs at your lips is burdened with sadness. “So I thought. So let’s break up.”

“Please, Y/n, please.” His words are soft and wobbly, as if on the edge of the cliff. His arms snake around yours and his head buries into your neck, lips placing a soft kiss on the exposed skin there. 

“I can’t live without you.”

You laugh, the chuckle cutting through the heavy atmosphere. “Bullshit, Fan Chengcheng. You say you can’t live without me? Well, you seem completely fine in those fanmeets and commercials, and you sound genuinely happy when you’re composing. 

“Why aren’t those genuine smiles transferred back home? Why are the smiles so fake, the words now all lies?”

A new wave of tears are choking you, leaving you gasping for air, but you resist the urge to break down.

“You know you can’t lie to me, Fan Chengcheng. I can see it. I can see all of it! You don’t love me anymore, and you see me as a burden.”

His mouth opens, as if about to deny all that you have said. But he swallows the words as he watches you helplessly, arms limp by his side.

❝ you say you can live without me so why aren’t you dead yet?❞ The sneer is evident and menace drips along the sharp edges of your words.

It is only when the door is slammed shut with a final, grim click, do you slump to the ground, tears flowing down your cheeks in an unstoppable stream as you feel it, your heart finally tearing into two pieces, broken shards everywhere.

Outside, the raindrops pelt lightly against the window pane. And eventually, you pick up the broken pieces of your heart and sew them together, and before you know it, you’re doing better than ever. 

Because at least, you’re not a used toy anymore.

-

BREAKING NEWS: FAMOUS BOY BAND MEMBER DIES IN CAR CRASH

The straight, flat line and the annoying buzz can only do so much to numb your pain.

Silent tears roll down your cheeks as you gently caress the pale, cold cheeks of Chengcheng.

You stumble over your whisper as you choke out, "Can I make it up to you?"

But awh, sweetie, it's already too late.

-

Outside, the storm rages on.

[hirakdesherrani]

“Besharam, Battameez, Khudgarz hota hai....par pyaar toh aisa hi hota hai”

***Caution: The views given below might be highly offensive to some. Please do not read if you feel you will burst a vein. Volenti non fit injuria***

One good thing about catching Bepannaah in the hotel tv this week, is that I could ignore most of the fandom drama. It gives scope for understanding the show without any prejudice, though I can guess the usual female lead bashing that must’ve happened. 

Anyways, so, I dunno about others, but I immensely enjoyed the show this week. Finally, there is story of the affair is out in the open. But umm, their affair doesn't make sense to me, like?? I am not totally satisfied with the explanation given in the show, but that is more due to the sad acting capability of both actors (esp. Namita) than weak writing. 

Let me make it clear that I don’t support cheating or adultery. Not because I hold the institution of marriage in high regard, I don’t. But because, I don’t support lying, dishonesty and subterfuge. Specially lies which will cause everyone involved a lot of pain in the long run. 

I do understand where Zoya’s coming from though. I don’t support her claiming Yash and Pooja’s relationship as “paak” or “pure”. No relationship in this world is pure, except that between a parent and a child (Even that is selfish sometimes, take Kunti and Karan, for example). 

Love and purity are in effect, antonyms. Much as I love DDLJ and the sweet/selfless notion of romantic love, cinema/television likes to propagate, love is actually pretty different. Most of us should be pretty glad that we haven’t experienced true love. Love is terrifying. As a child, I used to like the enchanting melodies of Rabindra sangeet, but as I grew up I understood what the lyrics meant and further, I read quite a few stories penned by Tagore. The more I read, the more I understood that romance is not the utopia we make it out to be. Love is this uncontrollable fury, which does not recognize right or wrong. Love is scary, because the first sacrifice it demands is love itself. Then it demands the sacrifice of respect, for others and and our own-selves. 

Lets just face the fact, that majority of people are enraged at Zoya saying “Yash and Pooja deserve their happy ending” because Zoya’s ideas of love endanger the carefully controlled society governed by its set of rules. As much as our generation wants to pretend that we will rebel against the rules, we really don’t know or want to face the consequences of breaking the society’s rules. 

Question is if Yash and Pooja’s relationship was wrong, then why is it wrong? Is it wrong because it is out of wedlock, because it insults marriage? But is marriage right? Who says so? The society? The law? The fact is that a substantial number of marriages in India are nothing but an euphemism for modern slavery. I would even say that prostitution is better, because at least the woman is paid for offering her body. The opposite happens in marriage where the girl’s family pays the boy’s family to take off the girl from their hands. The girl becomes an unpaid slave of the boy’s family, serving his physical needs at night and doing gulaami of him and his family during the day. The only ray of some joy in that girl’s life is when she becomes a mother. Situation gets better if she gives birth to a son, which is why mothers of sons are always on a “mera heera beta” high. 

Lets take Zoya and Yash’s relationship for instance. Yash kept Zoya separate from his family, from Mumbai, tucked away in the hills. He provided for her with luxuries, no doubt, but never really shared his problems, or even his life with her. Zoya had no idea what was going on in his life, beyond the surface. In this scenario, its going to sound offensive, but Zoya was no better than Yash’s mistress. Yash shared more of his joys, his problems with Pooja. A marriage is based on mutual affection, respect and understanding. No doubt Yash loved Zoya in his own way, but his true marriage was with Pooja, and not Zoya. I’m not defending Yash, or putting the blame on Zoya, but these are the bare facts. One thing I really appreciated was when Yash tried to convince Pooja that they are doing a great disservice to Zoya and Adi by keeping the truth from them. They are depriving Zoya and Adi their shot, their chance at finding true soulmates/partners who would give them the love they deserve. Not only are they deceiving AdiYa, but also being unfair to them. Zoya would definitely hate him when she comes to know the truth, but later she would understand. 

And Zoya understood. Sooner or later, even without Pooja’s existence or intervention, Zoya and Yash’s relationship would’ve broken apart. There was no respect, understanding or trust in their relationship. Yash never trusted Zoya enough to share his problems with her, and Zoya never understood Yash enough to see that he’s in a mess. How long could such a relationship last? Zoya would have to eventually wake up from this dream. Its just unfortunate that Zoya rudely woken up from that dream and thrown straight into a nightmare, but that’s how life is. Its brutal and unfair. 

I always appreciated Zoya for her emotional maturity and empathy. She still has her grudge against Yash, but that has not blinded her to what is right and wrong. Yash was a bad businessman, he cheated his wive, he cheated his mother and sister too in a way, but the bottomline is that he did not commit suicide. And he did not drive Pooja to her death; he is not a murderer. Zoya is not trying to prove Yash innocent, even if she manages to prove that Yash and Pooja had an affair, Yash is going to be slandered, his name is still going to be in mud. But a person should be punished for crimes he committed, not for crimes he did not commit. Zoya and Arjun are actually doing the right and ethical thing in this scenario. How are we judging them for standing with truth and justice?

Also, more importantly, I’ve mentioned before that Zoya was like a sixteen-year old in love but nonetheless her love was bepannaah, limitless. A love like that is irrational and unreasonable. So, even if Yash is dead, and it probably makes no difference to him whether he is accused of murder or adultery, Zoya is still going to clear his name, because of her bepannaah mohabbat for Yash. She has to do this final thing for Yash so that she can be free from her guilt of failing as a wife, and because she loves him. What she is doing will most definitely endanger her own freedom, and might put her behind bars, but love is irrational. She does not want to endanger Aditya’s freedom as well. Which is why she is hoping that Aditya will cooperate with her and try to find a way in which they don’t end up in prison again. 

But Aditya also cared for Pooja. Yes, Aditya always, always thinks of himself (and now his family) first. But Pooja is his best friend. If it is proved that Yash and Pooja had an affair, then Pooja’s name will be slandered. And Aditya does not want that, which is why he almost raised his hand when Zoya merely suggested that as an example, to show how wrong it was to charge Yash with something he had not done. Aditya just loves himself a lot. Don’t get me wrong, he cares for others also, take a complete stranger like Bella for example, or saving Zoya’s life multiple times. But essentially Aditya is a self-centered person, and his point of thought is how things are affecting him. Like Zoya said, Aditya thinks he is perfect and if anything bad happens to him, then it is someone else’s fault, and they’ve betrayed him. Its always about him. Only in his most vulnerable state, like when he was high on meds, did Aditya confess that if Pooja loved Yash she should’ve told him, its the betrayal, the lies that have broken him. 

At this point, the story is about Zoya’s bepannaah mohabbat for Yash, however stupid it might seem to us, and Aditya’s bepannaah mohabbat for himself. And I’m curious to see how the writers proceed with the narrative from here. Just hoping they don’t ruin it. 

[koganeirou]

I finally fucking did it.

I’m finally done Saeran’s route completely, bad ends and everything.

But at what cost my sanity

Anyway I already shared my some of my thoughts on Saeran’s route here and here but I really want to put a more cohesive post about Saeran’s route because I loved this route to hell and back and no words are ever going to completely express this but I want to try anyway. Rest is under cut. 

I’m gonna say it right now but Saeran is like the Jieun of Mystic Messenger. Basically his route is so high up there and is so superior to the other routes (in my opinion only!!!!) that he (and Seven) practically carry Mystic Messenger. This boy makes this game. He’s the damn star of this game. Mystic Messenger would be nowhere near as good of a game without his character and his story; and I would be nowhere near as invested as I am without him. Hell, if it weren’t for Saeran, this game wouldn’t even be memorable to me. If you were to ask me to do a “pros and cons” for Mystic Messenger as a game, the first pro I’d put down would actually be “Saeran”.

Saeran’s route is just..... I can’t even begin to talk about it? It’s absolutely amazing. It’s one of the very few routes that are both very emotional driven and also very well written in terms of plot and pacing. I feel like a lot of otome games usually sacrifice one for the other but Saeran’s route isn’t like that at all. It made me feel tense, anxious, genuinely heart broken, thrilled, satisfied and over-the-moon happy all at the same time. This is literally one of the first times that I actually cried tears of happiness from playing a game. But for all the emotional roller coaster that it is, it’s also very well written and it didn’t feel like any of the plot points were dragged on for too long though the Zen and Yoosung chats were completely unnecessary and could have been completely cut out. Rika and her dumbass cult subplot is also skirting on thin ice but it didn’t get too bad. Though Rika was an insufferable little bitch but this post isn’t about her.

While Rika sort of became a joke of a villain and became less threatening and more annoying, her annoying presence combined with the Prime Minister plot still made the conflict feel very tense and you could feel how high the stakes were. This is a big step up compared to the original story where the stakes were so low that they had to use cliche cardboard cut out drama queens like Echo Girl, and the Choi sisters just to make petty, stupid, lackluster drama because Cheritz doesn’t know How to Pace their overarching storyline.

But anyway!! I didn’t think I’d be able to love Saeran’s character more prior his route but his route definitely blew me away to the point that my love for Saeran is so high that it’s probably on a whole other astral plane.

Like. His character development is incredible. His character is incredible. Out of all the Mystic Messenger characters, he definitely has by far the best and most well written arc out of everyone. While I’m still kind of iffy about his implied DID / multiple personalities mumbo jumbo... it could have been worse *glares at how they handled Rika’s mental illness in the SEs*. I’m kind of cheesed how they left it vague in the end but a part of me also feels like if Cheritz tried to elaborate on it more they’d just end up digging a hole for themselves because their ability to properly write mental illness isn’t... the best. Despite the rocky bumps, I still do think that they did Saeran justice though, so I’m satisfied enough.

Watching Saeran overcome his demons and grow as a person was just so, so fulfilling... like he’s come so far and no words can even begin to describe just how proud I am of him. I remember I said before prior to Saeran’s route release that Saeran’s happy ending isn’t really in the secret ends because his defection from Mint Eye/recovery is all forced and dictated by those around him (literally just like how all his actions in Mint Eye was forced by Rika) but it doesn’t have to be forced. And this route has proven that point beautifully: unlike in the SEs, in Saeran’s route, nothing is forced on Saeran. You see Saeran rise up, take charge, and make his own decisions for himself and it’s far more fulfilling than any bullshit “”happy ending”” he got in the secret ends. It’s less of MC saving Saeran and more of MC encouraging Saeran to save himself and I love it.

There’s literally no other character that has wormed their way into my heart the same way Saeran has. Saeran isn’t fully recovered by the end of his route but I just have so much hope for him. He was given literally one, slim shot at freedom and happiness and he took the leap of faith despite all odds being against him like a trooper, so how can I not be so proud and happy and hopeful for him.

The flower language surrounding his character was absolutely beautiful. Unlike in V’s route where all the metaphorical talk about the sun just got annoying and outright insufferable, the flower language surrounding Saeran gave his character so much more depth, especially considering how passionate he is about flowers. 

Speaking of V’s route... V’s route doesn’t even hold a candle against Saeran’s route and I’m not just saying this because I’m Saeran bias. V’s route felt like a god damn rough draft for Saeran’s route for fuck’s sake. This is literally like the Chojiro-Gekkamaru issue all over again. You can obviously tell that the writers put a lot more thought and care into curating Saeran’s storyline compared to V and on one hand it kinda sucks how much V got the short end of the stick, but on the other hand, I’m so glad Saeran’s route wasn’t the same chaotic disaster as V’s. Sorry V fans, V’s route did not do it for me.

Also!!!! The ost? INCREDIBLE. This also extends to V’s route. I’m still kind of annoyed that the beautiful ost that played in Another Story’s prologue which was universally acknowledged as Ray’s theme turned out to be Rika’s theme (I feel duped) 

Literally.... the ost just keeps getting better and better. Every new ost piece in Another Story is absolutely phenomenal. Saeran’s theme in particular, from “Endless Struggle” to “I am the Strongest” just SCREAMS his character so much like his theme songs Embody his character. The composer deserves a freaking medal because I don’t think there will be another otome game with ost topping Another Story anytime soon.

Speaking of medals, his god damn voice actor deserves a medal too. Like I thought Saeran’s va’s performance was top notch in the secret ends but Saeran’s route really showcases just how talented this man is at voice acting. Sujin Kang Did Not Disappoint. He’s by far the strongest va in the mm cast imho.

Honestly if you thought I couldn’t gush more at how much I love Saeran’s route, his ending movie was stunningly gorgeous. “Four Seasons” is definitely my favourite song out of all the Cheritz songs. The melody is beautiful, the singing is beautiful and the lyrics fit Saeran so much. Watching the ending movie at the end of the roller coaster was just such a satisfying way to end it.

Actually... what was more satisfying was being allowed to vote for a charity group for Cheritz to donate their profits to. After playing through Saeran’s route, and watching the horrific child abuse that Saeran had to go through, voting for “Happiness for all Children” just felt so... fulfilling? Wholesome? I know a single vote isn’t actually going to do much in the long run but just the thought of being able to make even a tiny difference in the real world made me feel happy. I don’t have a soft spot for children, but when presented with the option to vote for a charity group immediately after Saeran’s route, a part of me was just screaming “vote for Happiness for all Children because absolutely no child should ever go through what Saeran went through in real life”. I know Saeran is a fictional character and MM is a fictional story but some of the shit just felt... so real. It made me fear that a child in real life might be going through something similar and Saeran’s route made me realize that I really don’t want that at all.

TLDR; SAERAN’S ROUTE IS ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE AND AMAZING. Not only was it really well written and really emotional, it seriously moved me in a way no other game has ever. I love it to the depth of my bones and I’m glad that they gave Saeran such a phenomenal route because his character is amazing and he really deserves the love he got.

[mianmimi]

Welp. As the world’s in quarantine, might as well rec a few songs that remind me of strordo, because music heals <3

  First, Gravity by Sara Bareilles. Putting it under the strordo lens, the lyrics to me are all Mordo’s POV post-DS with Mordo examining his relationship with Stephen, how Stephen changed him and saw through him just like he saw through and changed Stephen, and deciding his love for Stephen makes him weak :(

  [Verse 1]

Something always brings me back to you

It never takes too long

No matter what I say or do

I’ll still feel you here until the moment I’m gone

You hold me without touch

You keep me without chains

I never wanted anything so much

Than to drown in your love and not feel your rain

  [Chorus]

Set me free

Leave me be

I don’t wanna fall another moment into your gravity

Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I’m supposed to be

But you’re on to me and all over me

  [Verse 2]

Oh, you loved me ‘cause I’m fragile

When I thought that I was strong

But you touch me for a little while

And all my fragile strength is gone

  [Verse 3]

I live here on my knees

As I try to make you see

That you’re everything I think I need here on the ground

But you’re neither friend nor foe

Though I can’t seem to let you go

The one thing that I still know is that you’re keeping me down

  You Belong to Me by Sue Thompson is for Mordo doing his soul-searching/Eat-Pray-Love thing around the globe (doing whatever to sorcerers but Stephen doesn’t know that ssshhhh), from Stephen’s POV.

  See the marketplace in old Algiers

Send me photographs and souvenirs

Just remember when a dream appears

You belong to me

  As Much As I Ever Could by City and Colour gives me those Mordo subconsciously wanting Stephen to find him vibes.

  Bring me your love tonight

No I am not where I belong

Bring me your love tonight

  No I am not where I belong

So shine a light and guide me home

  Hold You in My Arms by Ray LaMontagne

  My Jinji by Sunset Rollercoaster.

  Dare Me by the Pointer Sisters for that vintage flavor and to end on a fun and danceable song ;)

________________________________

https://youtu.be/rEXhAMtbaec

Ah yes sweet Nonny! Gravity is one of my favorite songs. It just matches incredibly well with my various otps through the years hehehe. It’s such a perfect song for Morod still being in love with Stephen and struggling with said love and his desire to be free of it. It’s such a tragic fate and the song encapsulates it all so well.

But you’re neither friend nor foe

Though I can’t seem to let you go

One thing that I still know is that you’re keeping me down

Ughhh that part in particular hurts hard. That’s the strordo angst in a nutshell. Though the song is heavy with Mordo’s pov, I feel like this part matches them both. Neither can truly let go of the other, and both know that the other will restrain them. When I say restrain I mean like...keep them from going too far in their plans. Mordo will have a limit, as will Stephen. And that limit is each other. Also just the concept of being each other’s gravity is super interesting considering that their relics are ummm....anti gravity XD The Cloak of Levitation that allows Stephen to fly, and the Boots that allow Karl to essentially walk on air. If those represent their powers and abilities, then gravity would be weakness. Idk Nonny, it just seems like perfect for them and I’m glad you shared it!

As for the song “You Belong to Me,” I can totally imagine it playing while we get a montage of Karl traveling around the world to do some soul searching interlaced with Stephen waiting worriedly by the window and looking at maps. I just love vintage songs so this reallt made me smile listening to it ^^ Fits well playing in a Sanctum too! Just imagine Cloak sway to the song. So sweet!

https://youtu.be/H0EJ6bghBeo

“As much as I Ever Could” was a new discovery for me and boy am I glad you recommended it. It’s such a haunting song dearest nonny. So melancholy and full of longing and homesickness. I feel like this what Karl truly feels but he’s still in the denial stage. Perhaps it’s what he’s feeling when he’s still at that fine between between running back home or continuing on his new path.

When you kissed my lips, with my mouth so full of questions

My worried mind, that you quiet

Place your hands on my face

Close my eyes and say

Love is a poor man's food

With no proper side

I could hold you in my arms

I could hold you forever

Those lyrics tear me up like crazy omg! Sounds like something Karl would write down in a letter he’ll never send ;____; Karl baby please come home ;____; Stephen needs you. You need Stephen. Even the last supreme said so!

https://youtu.be/CbwYZCga50U

“My Jinji” has a very easy going sound doesn’t it? Very comforting, gentle, but also sexy. Tbh I imagined them having some make up sex while listening to the song. And of course the time theme fits very well with them. I just want Stephen to tell Karl not to cry ;___;

My Jinji don't you cry

This world out of time

Of time out of mind

My Jinji please don't cry

In this world out of time

Time out of mind

(Out of mind)

It’s just sweet and sexy and I totally subscribe to that vibe for strordo.

https://youtu.be/3IprBx1OlBk

“Dare Me” has such powerful vocals doesn’t it? And also...a super flirty feel! I can really imagine Mordo singing this too. Chiwetel’s got some mad singing skills folks, so Mordo’s gotta have some of that too hehee *hard winks* This song makes me think of him just wanting Stephen to make a move already. Like I know you want this, come and get it already.

I hope that lean hungry look means what it's saying

'Cause I'm just sittin' on ready, ready and waiting

Baby, make your move

Step across the line

Touch me one more time

Come on, dare me

I want to take you on

I know I can't lose

I'll be loving you if you just dare me

On a light note I just wanna imagine Karl playing this in the background while he works out in the courtyard giving Stephen the most intense come hither eyefucking. Go on Stephen....you know want some hehehe.

Thanks so much for this sweet nonny! I had a lot of fun!

[saveyourblood]

A Wayward Lullaby

Notes: this is my fic entry for @sleepywinchester ‘s URL fic challenge! Took me a few months, but I’m back 👌

Word Count: ~1.7k

Song: Brother by NeedToBreathe

Warnings: angst, death, sad fic with even sadder ending.

If you had asked Dean Winchester where he had heard the lullaby he sang his brother asleep to, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. He had heard the song in a random place at a random time. Maybe at a grocery store or flipping through the channels of his father’s car radio. The discovery wasn’t what stood out to him; the lyrics did.

His mother used to sing him something completely different: her favorite The Beatles song. Dean loved the song. Of course he did. It was one of his clearest memories of his late mother. He tried singing the unique lyrics to Sam when he was a child, one that refused to sleep. Dean started out with a hesitant whisper, then to a steady and gentle tune. The song put his baby brother to sleep quicker than any bottle or pacifier could, yet something didn’t quite fit. The scenario was too… reminiscent. He wasn’t his mother. He’d never be her.

By the time he had heard the song, Sam had long grown out the age of needing a lullaby to put him to sleep. The chubby child had turned into a gangly teenager with a crooked smile. Though had never mentioned the song to his brother, Dean knew it would have been a perfect replacement for ‘Hey Jude’. The lyrics felt right in a wrong world.

___

Dean still had no idea how it happened.

After they faced a fight against the British Men of Letters, American hunters saw anyone opposed to their personal methods of hunting as a threat. Hunters that had never spoken to each other began forming pacts and alliances in an attempt to protect themselves. Even the sworn loners silently followed.

The people did what people always do: they clashed. Each ‘heir’ claimed territories and areas to hunt in, and anyone else who dared to hunt there were killed or worse. The Winchesters tried their hardest to stay out of the mess, but eventually, it became impossible. They were risking their lives every second on a hunt and to humans. Monsters simply couldn’t be their main priority anymore.

Dean and Sam got welcomed into one of the most powerful pacts in the country: Doomsday. They were more respected than newbies usually were, but certainly weren’t in the highest possible rank. They couldn’t care less about status. They were alive. That’s what mattered.

___

The last thing the Winchesters ever wanted was to go down in somebody else’s fight. Sadly, they didn’t have much of a choice. They could either fight, or be deemed a traitor, and if there was one thing Doomsday didn’t like, it was traitors.

One thing happened after another like the bullets flying from guns. Dean witnessed soldiers and enemies collapsing to the ground. Doomsday would win. They'd go home and drink in celebration.

A bloodcurdling scream, one he knew too well, disturbed his fantasy of celebration.

The sight was almost unbearable, watching Sam fall to the ground. Someone with dirt smeared on their face and dark clothing covering their body lodged a blade deep into his brother’s stomach.

Quicker than any of the passing events of that fateful night, dean ran to Sam's side. Someone was screaming, not out of pain. Out of anger. It was him.

The bullet in the attacker’s head wasn't enough to satisfy the rage crawling up his throat. The way he fell down to his brother’s crumbling body wasn't enough to redeem the times he never forgave him. The way he grabbed his fallen brother’s shoulders and laid them on his own, like looking into the reflection of a broken mirror, would never make up for all of the mistakes he had made.

Yet somehow, as Sam looked up to Dean’s eyes, blood smeared at the corner of his mouth, none of that existed. Sam looked at his brother like he was the uncorrupted thing in a world gone awry.

He started out mumbling words of assurance, falling from his lips like the tears falling down his face. Dean brushed back Sam’s hair, the hair he teased him about when he was younger.

The realization dawned on him, so forcefully that it imploded his heart, that his brother, his other half, was dying. He was dying a death that not even a Winchester could come back from. And because of this, there was one thing on his mind: those lyrics from so long ago.

He began singing, not loud enough to be heard over the chaos around him. The words were soft, reluctant. His voice hadn't been used in such a way for many years.

Dean cleared his throat, taking Sam’s hand. “Brother let me be your shelter,” he rasped out, holding back a sob. “I'll never leave you all alone. I can be the one you call when you're low…” he couldn't mask his sob. “I'm so sorry, Sammy.”

Only in death did Sam Winchester look completely at peace.

It's been 15 years since Sam's death, and 10 since Dean's. If he was honest, Castiel was never quite sure how the living Winchester made it so long after. The booze he drank was like poison and the grief shot him like a bullet in the chest. Never had he seen Dean Winchester in so much misery.

He would try to work cases that always hit a dead end, no matter how hard he tried. When something was too wrong, he would work with Crowley, but other than that, it was him alone in the bunker asking for a late Winchester's advice.

He still liked talking to them. Cas found himself asking for their advice, or simply commenting about his day. He’d cook himself meals that he would never eat, and he’d tell stories about the humane qualities of his angelic brothers and sisters. It was ironic how easy this came to him, considering that the brothers used to pray to him.

He told their stories. How couldn't he? The Winchesters were the people that saved the world. Even in death, their story deserved to be told. Angels wouldn't listen, demons didn't care, and adults couldn't believe. So, he picked up a job as a library worker, and eventually, an english teacher.

His students were bright, brighter than the Sun his own father created. They asked so many questions they could never understand the answer to, and something about the passion behind their words was a ray of hope. For the first time in his long life, Castiel finally understood what he had been created to protect, and why Sam and Dean themselves dedicated their lives to one of devastation: so such vigorous minds could continue living.

In his third year of teaching, a certain girl stood out. She had shoulder length dark hair and freckles brushed on her cheekbones, along with a smile that her parents could never resist. Her name was Amelia, and she was more of an angel than Castiel himself.

She listened to all of his stories, from fables to historical tales, but one caught her ear: the tale of two brothers who loved each other more than they loved the world. Cas figured this was because she was an only child and longed for some sort of adventure, but he wasn't quite sure.

The first time Amelia asked to stay after school and hear more about the brothers, Castiel was surprised. His students took more of an interest in the Winchester story than almost any other, but never to the point of wanting to hear him ramble more. Of course, he didn't object. He pulled a chair close to his desk, and so the transaction began.

The days and eventual months went by. Amelia stayed after school for a half an hour, and Castiel unfolded Dean and Sam's story before her eyes. He told her about their family, like Bobby, and all the monsters they had slain to protect people just like her. Her favorite part was Dean's sacrifice to bring Sam back from the dead.

She knew their story was over. In fact, she knew it well. She had cried herself to sleep that night, only the imagination of Dean holding his bloodied brother in his arms. She never met the boys, but something about her knew they were real, which made the pain worse. There was no way her teacher would grow so solemn at moments, and excited at others.

Castiel never imagined going back to their shared headstone, not after he buried Dean. The sharp pain it brought to his heart and the way it kicked the air out of his lungs was too great to bare. Yet, something about the way Amelia's bright brown and somewhat reddened eyes asked to see them, just once, was impossible to turn down. He couldn't bring himself to lie to her, to say they weren't real. Because they were. They were so real.

Amelia brought daisies that she had picked from her mother's garden. She apologized to both  Sam and dean as she laid a few on the grass above them, because they still had dirt on the bottom. Cas simply smiled sadly and let her do the talking.

She rattled on about how amazing they were for a while. She reviewed their lives with great depth, the kind of depth that the only other living person knew was the one standing next to her. Her small frame grew taller than the trees around them during moments of excitement, only to curl in on itself seconds later.

She had worked herself to the point of tears. Amelia let herself fall to her knees, then ran her fingers over the engraved designs on their headstone. She closed her eyes, whispered "thank you", and then said she was ready to go. Castiel had a gentle and comforting hand on her back the whole time they walked out of the graveyard.

The carved "S.W." and "D.W.", in the same way they were in the impala, had been appreciated by someone besides Castiel for the first time. Of course, Dean and Sam loved it too.

Feedback?

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[creativeashproductions]

Travelin’ Soldier Part 6

Summary: Reader is currently deployed in the army to an undisclosed combat area. She has been deployed for nearly two years. Anxiously awaiting her return is her husband and brother as they film for Supernatural. Letter comes informing the family that she may not be heard from for awhile and soon devastating news comes. In italic bold in the story is lyrics.

Characters: husband!Jensen x reader, Jared x Reader (twins), Dr. Maria Halstead (OC), Dr. Will Harold (OC), Dr. Jason Xavier, Nurse Kelly and Sasha Words: 2078

Disclaimer: I do not own the title of the song Travelin’ Soldier by the Dixie Chicks at all even with the minor change of lyrics to fit the story. I simply thought it could be a little fighting. Not hate towards Danneel either, as this is simply fiction and not real. I do not own any songs, images or gifs in this either.

Warnings: Possible swearing, memory of torture, angst, FLUFF, hospital, mention of death and injuries.

Author: Caitsy

Tagging a few at the end. Send an ask to be tagged, or request something.

A/N: The long awaited part 6! Guys there’s a lot of fluff! I was going to not do what I did to end it but JENSEN IS IN THE SAME BUILDING AS Y/N!

Also thanks for the lovely comments that made tear up and laugh so hard! I’ll try and do this again but below are the lovely fans that said something about part 5! Follow them! @bottlebrunettebarbie @humanandangel @humanandangel @awkward-s1tuat10ns

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Master List

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*Two weeks later*

Your eyes fluttered open to see the bright lights in the white room. You were in more pain than you ever remembered. The cuts were painful and you knew your body was littered in a rainbow of bruises. You saw a nurse with mocha skin humming as she fixed flowers in a vase before she returned to see you panicking. You had noticed the tube going into your throat that was now gagging you.

“Sh, calm down.” The nurses soothed, “I’ll call for the doctor and we can removed this.”

“H-hmph!” You choked.

“I’m Katherine.” The gorgeous nurse smiled as she pushed some hair off your forehead, “We’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

The next half hour was tense and fast paced as you gulped water down still feeling the tube being removed. Everything hurt and you couldn’t remember the last few seconds in that building.

“Mrs. Ac-“

“Private Y/N Ackles.” You whispered closing your eyes tight, “Actually can you just call me Y/N…I do…I can’t.”

“Sure.” The doctor calmly said taking a seat in the chair beside you, “I’m Doctor Harold. I’m just going to inform you that you’ve been in a coma for a couple weeks. I am going to need your help with something okay?”

“Wh-what?” You cautiously watched as he stood at the foot of your bed.

“Can you lay down and look at the ceiling please? I’m going to do a quick test.” Dr. Harold explained, “I’m going to lift your foot and I want you to push down as hard you can okay?”

“Okay? Tell me when.” You said staring at the weird stain in the middle of the ceiling.

“Now.” He said, “Okay good but I have to go quickly see a patient okay?”

“Sure.” You mumbled as you faded back into sleep feeling as if everything was a dream.

The Doctor watched as the soldier faded back to sleep before he walked up to his co-worker and close friend. Doctor Maria Halstead was flipping through a patients chart when he leaned against the counter staring into the room of his patient.

“Something wrong Will?” Dr. Halstead questioned turning her attention to him.

“Remember when she first got in and the bullet was close to her spine?” Will asked.

“Yeah, she lost a lot of blood and flat lined twice in a day.” Maria said turning to look at the female soldier.

“We said she had a high chance of walking.” Will said frowning, “I’m not sure but I think she could very well have limited mobility because I did the usual test and she wasn’t able to push my hand down.”

“Will, she just woke up after a serious injury, torture and you think she was able to push your hand down?” Maria raised one eyebrow.

“I think she’s going to be paralyzed for the rest of her life.”

“Let’s not jump the gun!” Maria exclaimed staring at her friend, “We can’t risk anything letting that out because of who she’s married to!”

Jensen’s leg was jumping as they drove to the hospital where Y/N had been transferred to. It had been a harrowing two weeks since she was found and she hadn’t been stable enough to be moved to America until a week ago with news that there were complications from the lack of needed equipment to perform surgery.

“Oh God.” Jensen mumbled staring at the hospital doors, “I -don’t know if-“

“Yes you can.” Jared replied as Clif dropped them off, “We’ll do it together.”

The hospital was busy when they went up to the desk where a nurses was on the phone. She made eye contact with the boys before she continued talking into the phone. Waving a hand for the men they came closer.

“What can I do for you?”

“My wife was brought in here.” Jensen frantically said, “Last name is Ackles.”

“The soldier!” The nurse exclaimed grinning as she motioned to one of the doctors, “Dr. Harold is just over there, when he’s done he’ll be right with you.”

“Okay thanks.” Jared smiled pulling Jensen away from the desk. The nurse smiled before her attention was taken by another nurse handing her a tablet.

Taking a seat the two men were jittery waiting for any news from the doctor on the woman in a hospital bed. Jensen watched Dr. Harold with hawk eyes as the redheaded doctor grinned at one of the people before turning the tablet to them. In a few minutes the couple shook hands and they left in the elevators.

“Mr. Ackles and Mr. Padalecki, I’m Dr. Harold and I’ve been working on Y/N’s case.” The man smiled shaking the hands, “It’s a pleasure to be dedicating my time to her.”

“How is she, can we see her?”

“Mr. Padal-“

“Jared.”

“Jared the injuries your sister had acquired during her capture are concerning, if you could follow me.” Dr. Harold said as he began walking through the busy halls, “There were some complications we are keeping an eye one during the surgery.”

The two men were brought into a small room with a table and chairs along with some toys in the corner. Dr. Harold motioned to the seats across from where he was sitting as he swiped on his tablet before laying it face down.

“What’s the injuries?” Jensen questioned.

“You’re wife sustained multiple laceration, wounds, along with some wounds we attribute to self defence including blood splatter on her body. We have a strong believe along with the authorities that she was forced to kill someone.” Dr. Harold explained folding his hands, “While there is a large amount of physical wounds we believe the mental ones were much more.”

“Oh god.” Jensen whispered tearing up, “Please tell me that’s everything.”

“I’m afraid not.”

“What else.” Jared squeezed his eyes shut. the sigh was what opened his eyes when the tablet was moved to their vision, “Is…is that her x-ray?”

“We did this when she first came with a GSW which means-“

“Gun shot wound.” Jensen mumbled, “We’re actors on a show that tends to have a lot of that.”

“Okay, well Y/N was opened in the other hospital but they had some complications and airlifted her immediately. When she arrived we had strong believe that she would be physical okay in a couple months.” Dr. Harold said looking down at his clipboard, “She recently woke up and I tested her mobility, she was unable to fully push my hand down.”

Jensen’s eyes closed in pain before they opened in shock. He hadn’t heard the most important part of that sentence.

“She’s awake?! I want to see my wife! Right now!”

“She was only awake for a couple minutes before she fell back asleep. I’d also like to get my colleague to go over some things.”

“What kind of things?” Jared asked steeling himself, “Are they safe?”

“This is a hospital, I guarantee that he he says is safe.” Dr. Harold explained just as there was a knock on the glass door.

Jensen and Jared turned around to see an older gentlemen with greying hair and a nice smile step in. He had a few words before stepping up beside where Dr. Harold was sitting.

“Mr. Ackles, Mr. Padalecki.” The new doctor nodded shaking them men’s hands, “My name is Doctor Xavier, I’m the new head of psychiatry here. When I heard of Private Ackles being here I placed myself as her doctor.”

“Why?” Jensen glared.

“I, along with the board, decided that I should be her doctor because I have a past in the army before I took this job. My credentials are very well of this case. I’d like to give you a list of trusted therapists that are affiliated with the hospital and army.”

“I thought you were going to her-“

“Not therapist.” Dr. Xavier smiled before turning towards Dr. Harold, “How is the patient?”

“There’s a few concerns regarding her lower extremities. She was lucid when she woke up but seemed agitated.”

“What do you expect? If you went through what she did…you think you’d be remotely okay?!”

“Jared!” Jensen hissed, “Calm down. I don’t like this anymore than you do but listen.”

“With the right support, routine and therapy she should make a full recovery. I’d suggest looking into finding a dog to help her with PTSD.” Dr. Xavier explained handing over two sheets of paper with names of therapists and organizations do with this veteran dogs.

“Dr. Harold! She’s awoken again.” A nurse rushed into the room, “She’s having a difficult time. We need Jason and you.”

“Thank you Sasha.” Dr. Harold said striding out of the room with Dr. Xavier right behind him, “Can someone page Nurse Kelly?”

“Already on it!”

Jared and Jensen found out that the nurses Kelly and Sasha were your personal ones that fought tooth and nail to be on your care list. In typical fashion Jensen and Jared had tried to get into the hospital room but they were stopped by one of the female doctors milling around the floor.

You meanwhile was in your room holding your hands over your ears and eyes tightly closed. You were shaking because you weren’t in a hospital but instead back in that musty dark room. You could guns firing and the voice of Charlotte guiding you to killing that family again.

“No! Please!” You shouted crying. You sobbed when you instead found the sharp knife carving into your body.

“Sedate her!” You trembled hearing that voice but it faded to darkness and you slumped over into your self.

It didn’t take long until the whole family was in the waiting room demanding answers while you slept in your room. You had been asleep for a few hours following the episode earlier in the day. One thing was good news which was that you were able to move your upper body with good strength but the lower body was weaker.

“Do you think it’s because she wasn’t able to walk around?” Dr. Halstead asked looking at her friend. They were going over the MRIs, X-Rays and Cat scans of the soldier.

“I’m not sure. Why is her upper body so strong?”

“Will, have you thought about how her arms were bound but the inability to move around the room greatly affected her?”

“It seems weird to me.”

“Will…are you not looking at the bigger picture because of o-“

“No.” Dr. Harold sternly looked at his best friend, “We do not talk about that.”

“You can’t let your personal feelings into that room!” Dr. Halstead called out as the ginger haired man stomped off from her.

Dr. Halstead frowned thinking back to how much has changed for Will since the past year, the man had gone through a lot. She bit her lip wanting nothing more but to hold him but he wouldn’t let that happen. Not so soon after their lives blew up in their faces.

“Dr. Halstead?” Kelly asked, “Do you think the hospital would allow me to work more hours on this floor to be with her?”

“I’m sure if you brought up that she’s needs a routine and familiar faces may help. You’re a good nurse, have you ever thought of becoming a doctor?”

“I have but I like doing what I do right now.” Kelly smiled pushing hair back up into the tight bun.

“How’s your patient doing?”

“She’s still knocked out. Do you think her husband should be in there?” Kelly questioned playing with her hands.

“He should be in there. Is there a reason why he isn’t?” Dr. Halstead asked turning to her tablet to bring up the information.

“Dr. Harold said she can’t ha-“

“No. Let Mr. Ackles up, he deserved to be there for his wife.” Dr. Halstead frowned thinking of why Dr. Harold wouldn’t allow it.

“But-“

“If Will comes at you just send him to me. I’ll deal with it.” Dr. Halstead smiled patting Kelly’s shoulder.

“Okay Maria.” Kelly smiled before making her way towards where the family was waiting.

When the door opened they all looked up to see a young nurse standing there, one the nurses stationed as Y/N’s. Jensen gulped worried about why she was here but it seemed the nurse figured it out.

“I’m nurse Kelly. I’m here to take Jensen up to see his wife.”

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[dmitri-smerdyakov]

EXCLUSIVE: Alison Sudol on bringing Queenie to life in 'Fantastic Beasts', Ilvermorny song, more

Queenie Goldstein is an intuitive mind-reader, and this is something actress Alison Sudol is learning more and more about as she brings her role of the American witch and Legilimens to life in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and the future installments. Sudol chatted with SnitchSeeker last week about her magical alter-ego, and involvement in the first movie and greater war and arc of the series, leading up to this week's DVD, Blu-ray, and digital platform release of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. The actress (and singer-songwriter) shared her thoughts on Queenie and Newt Scamander's relationship - still to be explored - her thoughts on the final scene in Jacob's bakery, and the research she put into creating a version of the Ilvermorny song fit with the time period. More on that can be read below.

Quote:

SnitchSeeker: Looking back at your first audition as Queenie, how do you think your portrayal of the role has evolved from what you read of the character to what we see in the final cut of the film? Alison Sudol:

I think my understanding of Queenie developed as I watched what everybody else was doing and reacted to the other character actors in the story. Katherine and I did quite a lot of talking and discussing about their sisterhood, but I feel like my idea of Queenie as a sister was pretty clear.

But I think just going through the movie and literally getting to know Newt and Jacob throughout the movie, I think that influenced how … I mean, it’s like in any friendship, it influences how you think and how you see the world – and then that influenced Queenie, I think. I will definitely be going into the next film with that experience and those friendships and the adventure of the role and the things that we stopped to do throughout the movie – the magical world, in answer to your question, and her deeper understanding of that.

Quote:

SnitchSeeker: You mentioned Queenie’s relationship with Jacob and Tina, but we’d like to hear more about how you see her relationship with Newt as well – especially given down the line they do eventually become brother and sister-in-law. Alison:

They meet from the beginning and she’s intrigued by him because he’s a criminal but she doesn’t really know who he is. They don’t spend that much time as characters, particularly alone in the movie, except for the one scene where she accidentally lets her feeling and emotions see more into him because they have a moment of quiet.

I think that it’s very hard to know Newt properly until you go into his case – until you see him with his creatures. I think it’s impossible, once you see him interact with these creatures and how he is with them, and just what depth there is to him under the surface, and kindness – it’s impossible to not have a deep affection for him. He’s really an incredible person. So I think Queenie would be thrilled to have him as a brother-in-law. Also there are certain things that we didn’t really explore in this particular film, but Queenie is fascinated by the creatures. I think that there’s a lot more that she could discover by spending more time with them and through Newt.

Quote:

SnitchSeeker: Since the Graves we see in this movie was Grindelwald the entire time, where do you think the actual Graves was? Alison:

I just assumed that it’s been a long-standing disguise for Grindelwald. I don’t know if he took over somebody else. I never even thought about that. I don��t know. (laughs) I’d like to know what everybody else said.

SnitchSeeker: We asked David Heyman and David Yates about this and they were literally like, “We have no idea. We have to go ask J.K. Rowling.” Alison:

Oh my God, that’s hilarious.

SnitchSeeker: But they did say that Colin won’t be back in the future movie. Allison:

Interesting. I literally had never thought of that.

Quote:

SnitchSeeker: When J.K. Rowling published the actual screenplay book, the final scene with Jacob and Queenie in the bakery actually takes place three months after the rest of the movie. What are your thoughts about where Queenie was during that time? Was that the first time she saw Jacob – three months later? Alison:

I think that like everybody she probably tried to get back to her life, and tried to resume things as they were. Obviously, that was difficult because they’d had this life-changing experience. It’s really hard to go back to an office job when you’ve had a great adventure with magical creatures and the world almost ending, and then just try and do some paperwork. So I think that’s why she shows up, because she can’t let him go. That’s my theory.

Actually, I can’t imagine what else she would be doing. To be honest, it wasn’t specific when we were making the film, how much time had passed. The fact that it was three months wasn’t actually something that we were told during the making of the film. Which it’s totally possible that it was – but it could have been a couple of weeks – but I think that it being three months makes sense because there’s been enough time that she would take the risk of going back to Jacob.

Quote:

SnitchSeeker: How do you think Queenie’s Legilimens power will come into play in the coming war? How much do you know about her powers? Alison:

It’s definitely going to come into play. I don’t think that she ever really thought much of her power before. I don’t think there was ever much that she thought that she could use them for, so it was just played down.

It’s quite a powerful ability that she has, and I think that it will come in handy. I don’t actually know how because I don’t actually know what is going to happen. But I feel like it’s going to be quite important.

SnitchSeeker: J.K. Rowling wrote the lyrics for the Ilvermorny song, but how did you create the musical style for it? Alison:

I’d never done anything like that before. I’d never worked with lyrics, let alone J.K. Rowling’s lyrics, and then create a melody. Usually I do it the other way around, where I’ll come up with a melody and then lyrics. So it was a really interesting challenge.

And then also, I wanted it to feel like it was of the correct time period. It’s actually difficult to find some school anthems from the time when the girls would have been in school, which was like ten to fifteen years before to the movie – early 1900s, essentially. I just researched as much music from that time as possible, and as many school anthems as possible, and then just worked on a melody that seemed to complement the lyrics.

Katherine was wonderful. She’d never sung before. She was just really game and really brave, because it’s really scary actually to sing in front of anybody – let alone on camera. She did so well. It was fun. We had some little things to play with – harmonies. It was just trying to find something that felt like it could be a real school song from that era, with a quite magical feeling as well.

Quote:

SnitchSeeker: Obviously J.K. Rowling’s told you a lot about the character. Within the confines of this movie, was there information she gave you that surprised you about Queenie? Alison:

No, I think that she painted such a clear picture of her at the beginning. Between her and David Yates, they all gave me the freedom to take that information and the script and then embody her from that. There wasn’t really anything that happened after that that shook me or surprised me.

But that’s just the one movie. I’m sure that there’s going to be all kinds of things in the future. But they were just really great at making it very clear from the beginning so I felt that I knew who she was.

SnitchSeeker: Back in 2014, J.K. Rowling did a whole Quidditch World Cup thing and one of the American Quidditch players was actually named Quentin Kowalski. Do you think he could be a descendant? Alison:

She has such an incredible and complex storyline in her mind about all of these characters, about their genealogy. I wouldn’t be surprised if there is some further relations. Also, I would never think that I could actually guess because anything that she writes is not going to be obvious.

So, I love the idea that there is something. But I don’t know what the future holds. Neither does Queenie. Queenie doesn’t know what the future holds. So trying to stay with her on her journey.

[prodigaldaughteralice]

@somewhereovertherainbowtables tagged me in one of these cute quizzes like we used to do in the Early Days o’ Facebook!

A - Age: 24. Yep. I... am not best pleased about this.

B - Birthplace: Baltimore, though I don’t remember it because we moved away when I was 4.

C - Current Time: Almost 10PM.

D - Drink You Last Had: An iced latte, around 3PM. I should probably drink some water or juice or something, huh.

E - Easiest Person To Talk To: @poisonforpigeons

F - Favorite Song: How on earth am I supposed to pick one favourite song? What I’ve been listening to a lot this week is Aimee Mann’s Humpty Dumpty.

G - Grossest Memory: Um... I have a variety of them. Most of them have to do with rotten food or with injuries. I don’t really want to go into detail.

H - Horror Yes or Horror No: Horror that makes you think, yes yes yes! Horror that actually put effort into unsettling you, yes please! Jumpscares and gratuitous gore, no fuck off.

I - In Love?: Yes, entirely, forever.

J - Jealous of People?: Oh yes, so very much. I desire validation. My form of jealousy involves hating myself, rather than resenting the other person, but my one of the Seven Sins is definitely envy.

K - Killed Someone?: No.

L - Love at First Sight or Should I Walk By Again: lol how many years did it take me to fall in love with my darling?

M - Middle Name: My IRL middle name is too distinctive, and my online alias doesn’t have a middle name... my IRL middle name is the surname of the person I was named after. That’s all I’ll say.

N - Number of Siblings: One older sister, @perhapsthevision

O - One Wish: A just and peaceful world.

P - Person You Called Last: A coworker who forgot to check out her drawer before she left, asking for her register numbers so I could do it.

Q - Question You’re Always Asked: Oh my god is that your real hair?????

R - Reason to Smile: @poisonforpigeons

S - song you sang last: In the car, we were improvising alternate lyrics to classic songs to be about the traffic situation. Last pre-existing song I sang was the first half of In The Month of January, a classic Irish “men suck” song.

T - Time You Woke Up: Woke up at eight, got up at nine-thirty.

U - Underwear Color: I don’t remember, are you kidding? Whatever I grabbed this morning.

V - Vacation Destination: Ideally I’d love to visit Tokyo someday. I also love London.

W - Worst Habit: That I don’t have in check? Forgetting to brush my teeth before bed.

X - X-Rays: Had one on my teeth once, I think, but mostly just on my arm when I broke it in 3rd grade.

Y - Your Favorite food: The lemongrass green curry my mum makes. :9

z - Zodiac Sign: Capricorn, Monkey. Neither of them fits me as far as the classical descriptions go (Capricorns are supposed to be unemotional, task-oriented natural leaders and Monkeys are supposedly extremely social) but I’m really attached to both for some reason.

If you feel like doing it, I tag @poisonforpigeons, @poidkea, and @ravenwitch!