#i am too obsessed with undead but they were the number 1 thing i was looking forward to

[pit--rat]

okay i havent actually watched the trailer yet but i feel like i've seen enough gifs to get the vibes and

i thought we were getting a skeleton and we're just getting another necromancer???

someone please tell me i'm wrong because i'm so sad rn

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— AN INTRODUCTION TO CREATIVE CAPTIVITY

SUMMARY : dean wants to know more about you and takes matters into his own hands when you don’t show up at his bakery. unreasonably, he doesn’t expect you to come back home early, but his mission was mostly successful.

PAIRING : vampire!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none 

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), baker!dean, stalking (it’s only hot if dean does it), angst, unhealthy obsession, yandere!Dean, possessiveness, soft Dean, implied panty kink, creepiness escalates, nerdy reader, reader isn’t perfect, (vague) chronic illness, voyeurism, b&e, stealing, slow chapter, and more to come

WORD COUNT : 6.6k

A/N : this chapter will lead up to the square stockholm syndrome on my @jacklesversebingo card. no baking :’(. heheh, Dean’s a lot softer and way more caring than the typical psycho-yandere type maybe some of yall were thinking of. I did research on yandere types and yandere traits, and found that it’s completely acceptable! in fact, a soft yandere is preferred, LOL. xx

Over the years Dean found that the perks of being undead included not having to sleep. That meant there were no nightmares to haunt him.. and now, that he had all the time in the world to watch you, to research you, first.

You were a fluffy cloud of love that became his companion through the sleepless, endless night. He knew seeing you again would feel like an eternity had passed, so he indulged in thoughts of you to keep him company.

He was home now and he had nothing to do as the moon bled through the windows of the place he “lived” in. He laid in his bed, unable to shut his brain off for the pretence of a peaceful sleep that he enjoyed doing routinely ever since he was a… vampire. 

His four hours of nothingness. 

He had too much time on his hands. 

He’d already read over a thousand books, watched over a thousand films and series, scrolled through the endless stream of videos on social media, and attempted to get good at hundreds of hobbies. What was the point of it anymore, after all?

Now, he thought of you. And that was the only point that made any sense to him. The only thing that mattered in his useless life. The only reason why he even wanted the sun to rise and bring another day. 

If it meant that he was able to see you again. To know everything about your existence. Then, it all mattered. The world needed to keep spinning and the world needed to be safe, for you. 

He took his phone from the nightstand and appreciated the wallpaper of his beautiful Impala. He was uncomfortably restless. He wanted to keep thinking of you, but he also wanted to shut his brain off. He couldn’t creep you out, it would ruin everything. He stared at the numbers telling the time, 1:24 AM. 

You were probably asleep by now. 

He wondered about you again. What position did you sleep in? What colour were your sheets? What was the texture of them? Did you use multiple blankets? Were you cold, often? Were your hands and feet always the only thing that was cold? Did you not suffer that way at all? Did you wear socks to sleep? What was the temperature of your home? Did you wear baggy clothes to sleep? Or something sexy? Or something cute? What was the colour of your walls? How did you decorate your home? Was it fun? Minimalistic? Did your house already smell like you again?

He cared so much about every tiny detail of your life and the place you called home. He itched to just get out of bed and find where you lived to see for himself. 

But for now, he lifted himself up slightly to rest against the headboard of his bed and unlocked his phone to find you wherever he could. He felt embarrassed to do so, but he searched your name on every app, including the dating ones he never removed despite being… Well, he hadn’t had sex since he became a vampire. He was terrified of anything bad happening to the women he slept with. 

The thought made him freeze. Would he lose control with you? Would he ever hurt you? His mind overflowed with images of your blood and him standing above you. He would die before he ever hurt you. He shook the thoughts away, remembering Lenore, and the handful of monsters that coexisted peacefully with humans. 

He could be with you. You could be his. 

You were all he could think about. It’s a shock that he hadn’t shoved his hands in his pants and pleasured himself just thinking of you. He would have, but he felt it would be disrespectful to you. 

He did try to relieve himself with those sexy vampire women in the past, but he just didn’t feel any sort of attraction towards them because so few of them even cared about humans. It was unbecoming. They were arrogant, indifferent, and it wasn’t even sexy. He just couldn’t get it “up” with bloodsuckers. So, what? He was still prejudiced and all that. Whatever, he spent most of his time as a vampire still hunting. 

He killed the entire nest and hunted down anyone that managed to slip through his fingers. He tried his hardest to keep being a hunter, with Sam’s brain protected with a wall, he had hope, a reason to keep going. But that was all gone, his family was gone: Sam, Cas. 

When word spread that he was a vampire, and it did—like a nuclear bomb—the fallout was massive. Somehow, the fear of the Winchesters was hundred-fold, even though, in all his time as a vampire, Dean hadn’t slipped up even once. 

He didn’t know how he did it. 

He really just did. 

He remembered the devouring thirst of being around humans when he was in the process of turning, while he looked for the leech that bled into his mouth for the cure Samuel and Sam were waiting to have confirmed. He could smell every human’s blood, taste the delicious quench of it in the air, and he somehow walked straight past every one. And when that one vamp opened the fridge to feed him a pick-me-up, the scent of it was overpowering, but never quite enough for his stubborn ass.

He declined and carried on with the mission, but the world had other plans for him. When he found the guy that turned him, of course he knew that Dean hadn’t fully turned; he was the leader of the nest, after all. He was smart and didn’t let Dean make any move unless he drained one of the women he didn’t find useful for the nest. 

He refused but the leader of the nest didn’t take no for an answer, and once again, forced Dean to feed on one of the women in the cages. Dean remembered that way it felt, the taste of warm blood soothing the aching dryness in his throat. Dean had planned on biting the poor girl for show and collecting the blood in his mouth to spit it out later, but once it touched his tongue, the bloodlust took over.

He didn’t know what possessed him to stop. Maybe the way the girl whimpered, because she was just a girl. Or the way she pleaded for him to stop with her weak, cracked voice. The way her body slowly sank into him and crumbled limply, but he somehow managed to push her away from him.

She thanked him, even though she was still stuck being a blood bag for the nest. Dean felt guilty, even by just remembering how it all started. His soulless brother, his idiot best friend. How was anyone supposed to know how to handle that situation? 

Dean grieved his human life. Having to abandon Lisa and Ben on top of it all. Then, his brother’s life. And finally, his best friend’s life. 

Sure, Cas was the one who made the mess to begin with, but what was the point of friendship if you couldn’t forgive them for the worst of the worst? Obviously, there was a line, but with the type of life they lived, what Cas had done didn’t cross the line. After all, Cas tried to make amends, even if it was too late. 

Dean could stay mad forever at Cas, but he was going to be ancient some day. What purpose would that hatred serve when everyone was dead? Forgiveness was all he had left to remind him he still had some semblance of humanity.

And right now, he needed to feel human. For you. 

He was more relieved than he cared to admit when he didn’t find you on any dating apps. So, he deleted every single one after he got the answers he was hoping to not find there. 

He hated that your Facebook was more dead than he was. You didn’t have your relationship status updated or your birthday published. There was nothing, just an old photo of you at some Korean restaurant. And even your family members’ accounts were as dry as his throat felt after going days without feeding. They revealed nothing, but he did find your friends: Bela Levante and Daphne Jordan.

But there was hardly anything to see about you on their profiles. God, woman, why did you have to hide yourself so hard?

He carefully scrolled through Instagram and groaned at another obstacle. Your account was private. He wished to stare at photos of you. The numbers on your profile teased him, he could see the amount of followers you had, the number of people you were following, and fuck… 43 posts he could be gazing at like a celebrity’s fanboy. 

He wanted to see everything “private” about your life, your hobbies, flashes, glimpses of your life, pets—if you had any, and everything about your family. All the little things that would have slowly painted you on the empty canvas in his mind. 

Dean shut his phone off with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling being illuminated with the moonlight, creating shadows from the tree that creaked outside by the window. 

How was he supposed to feel about you? What was he supposed to do to get closer to you? Would you see him again the next morning? Or anytime after that? Would he see you in days? Weeks?

Would you think of him at all? Or would you be too busy with your life to do so? Did you even want to see him again? Did you feel the pull he felt towards you? Was he being delusional to think that there could possibly be something between you and him?

He’d have to take matters into his own hands if you prolonged appearing in his life. If he got dozens of women to like him before, there’s no reason why you wouldn’t want him in the same way. He just needed to play his cards right. 

5 Days Later

Coming into your life was more difficult than Dean anticipated.

He went out more than he would have wanted, hoping to find you anywhere in town. So, you weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t be available for the first couple of days or weeks in town as you tried to settle in. He hoped it was just something you said to avoid Andy.

At least he knew you weren’t lying about that. 

He only saw you once three days ago at the grocery store. He watched you as subtly as he could, his eyes focused on your every move, his ears sharpened to your voice, every atom in his body was attuned to you, his nexus. 

He wished he was standing there next to you, as your boyfriend, a lover, a partner, whatever. As long as you were only his. So he could watch your cute faces when you touched something that you didn’t like, or be there to laugh with you when you giggled at something you saw, or to be there to remind you of something you forgot and had to pull up the list on your phone. He wanted to know what it was like to have another conversation with you, about anything. Was that asking too much?

He didn’t get everything he’d planned on getting when he got there, but at least he had your plates and the car you drove. He wished he was brave enough to have talked to you, to pretend to bump into you. Although it wouldn’t have been much of an act, he really hadn’t expected to see you there.

But there was something raw and real about watching you while you were alone, and in your head as you walked through the most-likely unfamiliar grocery shop. When was the last time you stepped foot in there? You stared at the signs above each aisle with surprise when you’d walk in and didn’t find what you probably would have years ago. 

He made his way to his car and thought of all the ways he could get you to be his. In any way that he could have you. All his ruminations and all his time was devoted to the goal of being with you. So much so that he felt like his entire life was on hold.

He knew it would start up again as soon as you entered his life. However, he hadn’t seen you—well, he hadn’t spoken to you in five days, and he wanted to respect you by letting you have your own space, but it was getting painful for him to be away from you for so long.

He waited to hear the beat of your heart or the sound of your voice being carried through the air and into his bakery, but he was only met with disappointment. Every time the door opened, he wished it was you walking in, he wished it was you smiling and flirting with him like every woman he regularly saw.

But you never showed up. 

Did he make you up in his imagination? Was he that desperate to feel something? Were you real and simply uninterested in him? That thought hurt more than it should have. He thought he’d left a good impression on you, and after you left that hundred dollar bill, his mind didn’t allow him to believe you hated him. In fact, it was the only proof that you were real after all. 

Why couldn’t you be as infatuated with him as he was with you? Why couldn’t you be as interested in him as the women who carved out time for him in their busy lives? 

You were impossible to get close to. His fingertips barely tapped the surface of your life and like a fish, you swam quickly in the opposite direction to evade being captured by him. But didn’t you see you’d be better off with him? Happier? Freer? More loved than you could fathom? More loved than you could ever be with anyone else? More loved than you have ever been loved?

You were on his mind every moment of every day since he met you. Was he nothing to you? How would you feel knowing that everything new he baked was because you had inspired him in his daydreams. He wished he could ask you how it tasted, what you liked, if he should make more of whatever new invention he had created. If he should add it to the menu. He’d make them all again for you to try them and give him these insights and suggestions. 

Mostly, he needed to know more about you. He just couldn’t bear the thought of you being a mystery. Or the fact that you’d never let him into your life to know the things that you inhibited within the safety of your home. Would the things in your house reveal your psyche? That’s all he wanted, to worm his way into you by knowing these things about you. 

Sure, he could be himself, but he needed an advantage first. He needed time with you where it wasn’t obvious he was imposing himself on your life without reason. Where could he accidentally or coincidentally find himself in order to spend time with you? So that it could all fall together perfectly as he has fantasised every waking moment of his existence since he met you.

He could only acquire that information by infiltrating your home. 

Dean didn’t expect this. 

It was all he could think when he tracked down your scent to where you lived—and he relaxed when he didn’t find your car parked in the driveway in front of your home. 

He blinked. 

He was astonished as he gawked at your home. The light of the stunning peach sunset was reflected on the tinted glass that made up the outer walls of your home. Those glass windows, from floor to ceiling, also reflected the breathtaking forest surrounding the area. How convenient that your house was surrounded by thick green trees. 

He stepped closer to your home to the surrounding area, the giant space that was entirely yours. There were a few plants, and despite being grateful about the lack of surveillance, he clicked his tongue in disapproval at the lack of it. 

You needed to be safe. 

He’d have to check out the glass, make sure it was shatter proof and bulletproof—even though there was no reason why your house should be armed against anything like that. He needed to make sure no creeps had made their way to your home, squatters or even people who may be infatuated with you. 

You hypocrite, part of his brain accused. But he huffed, pouting and narrowing his eyes straight ahead at the reflection of himself, scolding his brain for trying to compare him to those who were more selfish and probably more dangerous than him. He pushed the small voice that reminded him that there was nothing scarier or more dangerous than a bloodsucker being around a human. 

Dean pushed every thought away and had to quickly become familiar with the outside of your home before deciding it was safe to enter, to really get to know you. 

Were you going to clean this whole place by yourself? Did you have someone else do it? Did you cook? Or did someone else do that for you, too? He needed to know. How much freedom did he have to be in your home whenever it suited him?

He made his way to the porch and brushed his fingertips against the lock of your door. He may not have had a heart to race at the thought of being where you always were, where you felt safest, but his body still thrummed and tingled with excitement. 

Dean searched his jacket for the pick-set he carried in the inner pocket over his chest. He thought about how he hadn’t picked locks in a while. He didn’t have any reasons to, just the occasional need for it if he caught a case nearby. And ever since he became a vampire, he found that it was easier than before, easier to listen for the clicks of each pin falling as he slowly turned and prodded with his tools. 

He apologised to you under his breath once the door unlocked. 

He shoved the pick-set back into his jacket pocket while standing at the entrance of your home, and deeply inhaled the scent of you rushing outwards to greet him. Yes.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, surprised by the emptiness and the smell of newness that mingled with your sweet aroma. 

You were still way behind on unpacking. 

He found a shoe rack by the entrance and decided to respect your house rules by kicking off his boots and placing them neatly into an empty spot. So, that’s what it would look like if this were his home, too? His shoes, right next to yours. It looked right.

He curled his toes inside his socks, feeling the cool floor against his already cold skin and smiled. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it up at the coat rack, making himself at home. He could pretend for a few hours that this was how it always was.

He stepped deeper into your home, looked around and deflated. 

There wasn’t much to explore. Most rooms he walked into were empty, or they had boxes that had yet to be opened by you. Maybe it would scare you if he tried to help by taking everything out, so he left the boxes as you had them. 

Why hadn’t you made yourself at home? It’s been days and you haven't really done much. Was this just part of your indifference or was this because of the secret illness you had? Were you that busy with work? You were pretty vague about it when you were talking to Andy. 

For now, Dean sighed, he knew nothing. 

There was no indication of what was to be your living room. No furniture, no television, no tables. Unless he opened the boxes to peek inside and find out what each room would be, he would have to wait until you got to it yourself. 

At least your kitchen was easy to explore. Though most of the cabinets were empty. Only three glasses, four plates, two bowls… God, woman. Should he get you some things? He shook his head and quickly pulled open every door and drawer to peek inside the completely uninteresting contents. 

But finally, he got to your pantry. You had lots of snacks. Dean chuckled at the type of organisation that you had put them in. By colour. He smiled and reached out to touch them. He missed being hungry for this type of stuff, not that it stopped him from indulging in it every now and then anyway. 

His brain nagged him: Which ones were your favourite? Well, he had to guess that they were all your favourite to some extent. But maybe it was the Rice Krispies, they were nearly all gone. There were some spicy peanuts, too, and some other spicy, but still sweet, Mexican candies he had tried before—some, he hadn’t tried at all. 

His mouth would have watered if he were still alive. 

He snorted, moved on to read each package and box; he needed to try whatever he hadn’t already tried before, just to see if he could have that in common with you.

He didn't have to, but he wanted to be able to say: I have tried it before. At least. Maybe that would mean something to you, maybe it would matter. On the other hand, he already had a lot in common with you—in terms of preference for snacks. He liked your taste. 

He shut the pantry door and opened your fridge.

He pulled out the freezer and lifted a brow at the lack of contents. No frozen, microwaveable food. Just vanilla ice cream, some shrimp, salmon, halibut, and steak. That’s it? He frowned. Did you rarely eat at home or did you already cook whatever else could’ve filled your refrigerator? Maybe he was overthinking it; you looked healthy when he met you and when he saw you at the grocery. But looks could be deceiving—you were sick after all, and he had yet to find out what you had. 

Is that why you became a geneticist? Was your disease genetic?

He closed the freezer and opened the horizontal middle door. He found two bottles of mineral water, four bottles of water, and one can of Sprite. Was there any point to the giant refrigerator if you hardly used it? He snickered. 

After he finished checking out the kitchen—and after washing a bowl with traces of Greek yoghurt, honey, and oats and the spoon you’d used—he began making his way to the next room, trying to find more information about you.

He made a mental note of the softener and detergent you used for laundry and all the other cleaning materials you kept in the laundry room. He checked out the washing machine and dryer to make sure they worked properly—so you wouldn’t have to struggle. 

He frowned the whole time. He wouldn’t be bumping into you at the laundromat, that was slightly disappointing to think about. 

He made his way upstairs, giddy to find your bedroom once he got to the top of the stairs. He held his breath in anticipation after opening each door down the long hallway, always to an empty room, but he exhaled when finally found your room.

Your scent embraced him when he opened your bedroom door. Now, he’d definitely find out things about you that were much more interesting. Much more intimate. 

He was thorough with his search. 

He checked out every item on your shelves and your desk, your figurines and other collectibles. He took a picture of your bookcase to become familiar with your books the next time he visited the library. He opened each drawer and your dresser to review the contents thoroughly, your clothes and keepsakes and trinkets hidden beneath—and stole a pair of your underwear as he bit his lip; he knew it was wrong. 

He made sure to steal your pink lace underwear that didn’t match with a bra you owned. He easily discovered which bras weren’t part of a set and memorised your cup size. You chose comfort over sexiness—even the sexy lace you owned looked comfortable. You were so cute. 

He turned to your closet and examined every article of clothing—which was organised by colour as well. From sexy to cute dresses, old and new t-shirts, sexy and cute cropped shirts, and so much more he wanted to see you wear for himself. He found a few of your scrubs and imagined the way they’d hug your curves, even if they were hidden below a lab coat. You were so sexy. So fucking hot, he couldn’t believe he was touching the things you’d wear at some point.

He went through your shoes to memorise your foot size, but made a mental note of your favourite type of footwear. 

He closed the door and looked over your vanity desk and the limited amount of makeup. Mostly, you had hair products. Gel to enhance the volume, different brushes for different uses, a multi-use hair dryer or something like that, cute hair ties and hair clips and a small bundle of what he’d label as boring; they were just brown, black, and tan hair ties. 

He slipped a brown hair tie onto his wrist—one that was loose from usage. He pocketed the mini-lotion bottle that was half-empty—a miniature version of the larger bottle you owned. And after peaking through your extensive jewellery collection, he stole a thin silver necklace with a cute little charm. 

He searched your nightstand, glanced at your cute lamp, a small mirror, a water bottle and a pill bottle. At the sight of the orange container containing a month’s worth of medication, he instantly picked it up and snapped a quick picture of the name to do research later. He wanted to look out for you. 

He opened your password-locked laptop and the tablet beneath. He wouldn’t be getting into those anytime soon. He had no idea what your password could be or what set of numbers mattered to you. It was frustrating. 

He opened the single drawer and pursed his lips—amused. God, you were so naughty. But you did live alone, why would you hide it? It's not like you knew he’d be inspecting every object you owned. 

Dean leered at each sex toy with a smirk and imagined—the fact that you probably used them more than once fueled his daydreams—the way you’d pleasure yourself with them. How many times could you come? Which toy was your favourite? Who did you fantasise about when you were in the midst of immense pleasure? He hoped it was someone unattainable or fictional. 

His hand twitched at the metal handle he’d pulled to open up the drawer. He was tempted to touch and kiss each toy that had at some point touched the depths and outer skin of your sweet pussy. But he exhaled shakily and closed the weakly concealed Pandora’s Box to move on with his investigation of your life. 

He checked the bottom space of your nightstand, open to the world. He found an extensive collection of sticker sheets and sticker books, empty A6 notebooks, one that was full, and another that was halfway worked through. He pulled the two of them out, but turned his attention to your bed. 

His mind inquired things he simply couldn’t figure out without you telling him. Did you pleasure yourself here? Do you ever pleasure yourself on the chair of your writing desk? Or the backless seat of your vanity desk? Did you plan on doing it downstairs on a couch you’d set up in the future? 

He slid his hand down the soft cotton sheets of your bed and picked up one of your silk pillows, accidentally knocking off a weighted dinosaur and a tiny shark the size of his palm that rested on its back. The other small stuffed animals remained undisturbed as he lifted your pillow to his face and inhaled slowly, deeply the scent of your shampoo, softener, and detergent. 

He sighed softly, eyes closed. You smelled so good, he could probably bite you if you let him. He’d never want to purposely hurt you. He just needed to feel you. 

He pulled your pillow away from his lips and nose to fix it back in place along with your woolly companions and blindly set down the two books he’d begin reading once he was done with his exploration. 

Was this the same bed and the same sheets you’d slept in when you were a teenager? Were you as horny as he was at that age? Did you sleep with anyone at any point in your life—on these very sheets? Were they new? New as in bought here once you moved in? Were these the ones you used when you left home to go to university?

Maybe he shouldn’t be thinking of that. 

He stomped away to your bathroom and rifled through over-the-counter medication behind the mirror—allergy pills, Benadryl cream, ibuprofen. He found your pink with green toothbrush, your toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash. He quickly glanced at the shrinking bar of honey-coloured soap by the sink inside a small bowl.

He rubbed his fingers against the beige hand towel and then your olive-coloured towel by the shower door. He inspected the scent and brand of your shampoo, body wash, face washes, and conditioner.

Why was he so drawn to learn all these things about you? He never cared about any of these things before. Sure, to some extent he tried to learn stuff about Cassie and Lisa, but never like this. Why couldn’t he take it slowly? Couldn’t he be normal about you? You were just a woman. Just a woman who made every withering seed suddenly bloom in his desiccated heart and desolate soul. Of course he’d turn to you, like a sunflower turning toward the Sun. It was his destiny, one he wouldn’t dream of fighting. 

He returned to your bedroom and slowly plopped down on your bed. He smiled instantly, swallowed by your soft mattress, and laid down on your pillows with your notebooks in his lap. He lifted the one that was full and became wrapped up in the story of your life.

He was only partially disappointed that you’d only begun writing a year before. He only knew about that and still nothing of your past. Only through subtext and vague statements could he decipher events of your past life. And every now and then, something would bring up the past and that’s how he discovered small details about you. 

Inside your half-filled journal, he found your work schedule. 

“Residency,” he mumbled and glared at the extensive, ridiculous hours listed for you to work. No wonder he hardly ever saw you. No wonder you were so behind on unpacking. 

Dean’s ears perked up when he heard rocks and dirt crunching beneath tires. His heart would have stopped if it were beating and his blood would’ve run cold if it still ran through his body. He was instantly at the window of your bedroom watching you drive towards the house.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean muttered, watching as your car pulled up into the driveway. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He scurried to shove your books back into place before legging it downstairs to retrieve his jacket and shoes and panicked momentarily. He wasn’t ready to leave yet! 

Did he touch anything else? Did he move something he wasn’t supposed to? He was so enthralled with his expedition around your home that he’d completely blanked out anything he should’ve been mindful of. 

He made his way back upstairs and quickly threw his shoes and jacket into the farthest empty room down the hall. There’s no reason you’d check out every room. Were you paranoid? Wait, he hadn’t accounted for this. Damn it, he was way in over his head.

It was too late. You were already making your way up to your porch. Dean could hear your quiet sigh, the sleepiness of it made him feel warm—at least the illusion of it. 

He quickly rid the bed of the form his body had made atop your sheets by pulling carefully at the edges and smoothing his hand over the wrinkles that remained until your bed looked untouched once more. 

Dean’s ears perked up at the sound of your car keys and your shoes being kicked off carelessly. Dean was suddenly excited to see what you wore. So, we should hide? his mind questioned. We? Dean scowled and looked around before picking the cliché of all hiding places: the closet. 

It felt like an eternity before you began to make your way upstairs. 

Much to Dean’s dismay, you’d discarded your lab coat at the coat rack, so he wouldn’t be fulfilling his fantasy tonight. But he could hear the material of your scrubs brush against itself as you shuffled lazily up the stairs and into the hallway leading up to your bedroom. 

Your door creaked open, you stretched, and then began to push your pants down your legs. Dean’s eyebrows shot up and he leaned forward to gently prod the closet door open enough to watch your black scrubs get pushed down your bare legs.

You kicked them off along with your socks and left them on the floor to lift your shirt up. Beneath it, you wore a grey thermal shirt. Dean watched, his mouth parched suddenly as your body stretched upwards, just in your violet coloured underwear.

He bit his lip to stop himself from saying something under his breath about how sexy you were. He couldn’t risk you somehow hearing him. But soon, you were completely naked.

Dean peered lewdly at your bare body. The way your hair came loose over your shoulders to brush against your warm skin, the shape of your breasts, the way you shivered and your nipples tightened as you collected your clothes to throw it into the hamper. Your proportions and the entire beauty of you captivated him. 

He wanted to fuck you, yes, but he also wanted to know what it felt like to hold the elegant dip of your waist. To know what it felt like for your body to curve up and mould itself into his body when you hugged him. To know how your fingers felt when they were weaved through his, as you had sown yourself into his dead heart to give him the illusion of life, of warmth. 

What did it feel like to cup the back of your head when he kissed you? Or to hold your jaw as he tilted your head for the perfect angle to kiss in? What did your fingers feel like when they skimmed over his cold skin and twisted into his hair when you got lost in the kiss?

What did your mouth taste like if his tongue brushed against yours? What did your plush lips feel like against his? Where would your lips trail off to and how would you kiss him?

Dean was dazed at his vivid fantasy and then you disappeared into the bathroom and he finally ripped himself from the perfect twill of his daydream. Disheartened, he leaned into your clothes, sinking deeper into your closet and briefly relaxed as your soft clothes overwhelmed his senses. 

Dean considered leaving now that you were home. He sort of got what he wanted, information about you. The rest of your house may have been mostly empty, but your bedroom wasn’t. And your bedroom revealed more about you to him than the rest of your home would have.

Still, maybe you’d get on your laptop and he could discern your password. Yeah, that would definitely be ideal. He could stay in the closet. There was nowhere else he could hide and the bottom of the bed was pretty useless. Besides, there was no reason you’d check in here, none at all. 

He waited thirty minutes for you, on his phone looking up what he could about your medication. He learned quickly the side effects, what not to take with your medication, when the best time was to take it. Then moved on to the minuscule list of diseases the medication was used to treat.

He was thrown deep into the research, reminding him of the days when he would have to search things through libraries and files for lore on monsters and to brief himself on the case he’d taken. It wasn’t too different: he wanted to get closer, he wanted to solve you. The only difference was you weren’t dangerous and you were beautiful, and he actually felt motivated to willingly delve further into the rabbit hole that was your life. 

The shower turned off and Dean shut off his phone. 

It wasn’t long before you walked out of the bathroom and Dean moved closer to the closet door, peeking between the small crack as you walked into your bedroom. You were patting your hair dry with a smaller towel and had your back to him. 

You threw the small towel successfully into the hamper and sighed exhaustedly. You were so silent. He wondered if it was only because of the fatigue of your job or if you always wordlessly completed tasks. 

He would only know once you completed your residency. Or if he found you on a day where you didn’t have to work. But he didn’t think you’d have the energy to go out, even on a weekend or vacation, after working such laborious hours.

He continued to watch you expectantly as you made your way to your dresser where your underwear was, he watched you sift through the neatly organised garments before you plucked something out and then your towel came undone slightly.

“Stupid fuck,” you muttered angrily and adjusted it. He grinned at your short temperament, but he wished you’d just let it fall completely so he could see you again. You bent over and looked through your sock drawer, picked a comfortable pair and finally pulled the towel from your body and threw it over to the hamper where it only made itself halfway in. 

Dean bit his lip at the sight of your ass; he traced the long divot of your spine down your back and the curve of your waist with his gluttonous eyes. He mouthed a ‘wow’ and licked his lips as you slid your underwear carefully up your legs.

You picked out a tank top and matching pants from the middle drawers and made your way to your bed with your socks in hand. So you did sleep with socks on. Ankle socks, fluffy loose ones with pink and white patterns. 

You lazily lifted your sheets, your expression more somnolent than he expected. Your feet, covered in clean socks, hid beneath your thick warm sheets. Your whole body was covered and your cheek pressed into the same pillow he’d grabbed. 

He waited as your breathing slowed, faster than he expected, you were out. Your mind shut off, tired from long hours of work. He envied you for a moment and then allowed his affection for you to bloom in his chest as he pushed the closet door open and shut behind him. 

He made his way to you carefully, and watched your peaceful expression. You lips were parted slightly and your breathing was so low and deep that your heart slowed down serenely.

He considered kissing you as you slept, but he’d rather have your consent when you’re awake some day; that’d really show him that you wanted him. 

Instead, he pressed his lips to your jaw, then dragged them hungrily to your quiet, gentle pulse and kissed you there. His lips lingered, promising the blood that would travel to your heart, that one day, it would be all his. 

-> life ain't easy when you're a mythical creature

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[snotsloth]

10 Characters/10 Fandoms/10 Tags

Tagged by @icehearts

Tagging, but don't feel pressured! (Also you do not have to make pretty pictures. Graphic Designer brain just took over and this happened.) @physicalvocalist, @sarenraegalpaladin, @vorpalbun, @captainqster, @leagor-majere, @sundered-souls, @ardberts, @hinganskies, @lilbittymonster, @janzoo

1. Harrowhark Nonagesimus - The Locked Tomb Trilogy

Harrow has true scrungly wet cat energy. I want to put her in one of those little backpacks with a window and carry her around in it for her enrichment. She's an absolute bitch. She is a pathetic little meow meow. She lobotomized herself to save the soul of the woman she refuses to admit she's in love with. She tried to kill a saint with soup made from her own bone marrow. She is a war crime. I like her so much!

2. Magneto - X-Men

He is the platonic ideal of my favorite trope, "Does all the wrong things for all the right reasons." Magneto has gone through the polar opposite of villain decay. The longer he exists, the longer the universe has to prove him increasingly correct on most things. All I can really say is, "Magneto was right."

3. Wei Wuxian - Mo Dao Zu Shi

Truly the most blorbo of all time. Are you also an ADHD burned out gifted and talented submissive brat with a praise kink? Boy howdy, do I have a character that you are going to imprint on like a baby goose! Wei Wuxian also has a hearty dose of, "Does all the wrong things for all the right reasons." Also like who multiclasses in wizard (specifically necromancer) and bard? This fucking guy apparently.

4. Hythlodaeus - Final Fantasy 14

I am so normal about Hythlodaeus, I made an entire AU around him. That is a reasonable thing to do about a character that you like a normal amount, right? The idealized lost love, trapped in amber, untouchable but also incorruptible by the sands of time that keep eroding the edges of your soul. And then they gave him lavender dead anime mom hair!

5. Varric Tethras - Dragon Age

I literally have a semi-viral post about how much this character has consumed my thoughts. Rule Number 1 of Dragon Age: Varric lies. He's a charming scoundrel. He's loyal to a fault. He knows everything worth knowing about Kirkwall. And he's a dirty fucking liar. The only reason Varric isn't romanceable in DA2 is that no other romantic interest would get any attention if Varric was on the table. I desire him carnally.

6. Temeraire - Temeraire

My most precious and smartest boy! I adore Temeraire so much. Swear to god, I did not read the Temeraire books before creating Orion as a character, but the parallels are so strong, you would think I had! He's a bookworm, a little awkward but full of opinions, and he has an unwavering moral compass. Temeraire will forever be one of my favorite dragon characters.

7. Jaina Solo - Star Wars Legends

I will never forget what Disney took from me. As a weird, nerdy girl who was also kind of a guy growing up, Jaina meant so much to me. She was an active participant in the stories she was in. She was an ace pilot, a skilled mechanic, and a Jedi to boot. She had her dad's sense of humor and her mom's moral certainty. I thought she was the coolest. Still do.

8. Ansur - Baldur's Gate 3

Ansur! My beloved! If you had told me that the character I would be most obsessed with from BG3 would be an undead bronze dragon who you don't even know about until the third act -- actually, no that checks out. He was so in love, and so loyal, and so bitter at Balduron for embracing his corruption! And that reveal! All the build-up, only to find his bones and then wham! the entire narrative of the Emperor gets turned on its head. I still get chills. Also, they were absolutely fucking.

9. Viktor - Arcane

Listen, as a disabled, obsessive nerd with too much to do and not enough time to do it all in, Viktor is my gender. I love just about everything about Arcane, but Viktor's storyline is my favorite part. I, for one, am very excited to watch his fall from grace and further corruption. I have already forgiven all of his atrocities. I do not care. He's babygirl.

10. Clark Kent - DC

You thought I was going to say Jason or Dick for a DC character didn't you? (Or even Roy!) Those would all have been very reasonable expectations. I am pretty obsessed with all of them. However, Clark Kent is a very special character to me, and yes I specifically am focusing on the Clark persona and not the Supes persona. Yeah, they are ultimately the same guy, but I much prefer Superman stories grounded in his Clark Kent identity. Superman is at his best when he is attached to the mundane world by things like his job, his family, and his love for Lois. (Lois/Clark is the ultimate het ship. I will not be taking questions on this. It just is.) Clark is essentially a demigod, and yet he chooses to spend his time loving people and living as one of them, and I think that's really fucking cool.

[steverogersbingo]

✨ STEVE ROGER BINGO’S ROUND UP - POST 1 ✨

Check out the fills our participants posted from the first month under the cut!

🎨 ART

heaven isn't in the sky (it's underwater) by agron T // Steve/Tony // Mermaids Summary: when steve went underwater he was discovered by three mermaid tony stark instead

Untitled by ABrighterDarkness G // Steve/Bucky // Alpine Summary: Steve and Bucky get distracted, Alpine enjoys every minute.

Space Stone by AriaFandom G // Gen // Moodboard Summary: Galaxy aesthetic for the space stone

Untitled by sanguineterrain G // Gen Summary: Magical, canon-divergent Steve

Untitled by call-me-kayyyyy G // Steve/Bucky // AU; Fantasy; Loin-cloths Summary: Steve and Bucky are elf's who ride their unicorns to check the perimeter.

Steve Rogers becomes Cernunnos by pinkybitesu T // Gen // AU Summary: Steve had always felt connected to the Earth. Becoming the God of the Forest, Cernunnos, made it all make sense.

"That Is America's Ass." by bleedxblack T // Steve/Bucky Summary: Steve Rogers straddles Bucky's waist with booty shorts that read "it ain't gonna spank himself".

📝 FIC

Clean Up These Bloody Fists by dontcallmebree E // 8,657 // Steve/Bucky // Shrunkyclunks; Mob AU Summary: Bucky can’t decide if Steve’s unendingly generous with his care for those around him, or if Bucky’s simply been lucky enough to scale the wall built up over decades, and had somehow proven himself worthy of the affection. Either way, he knows he’ll never take this for granted. Spend some time with Steve and Bucky this week in the perpetually fluffy ‘verse of Do The Things You Never Showed Nobody.

Scars by Kimberly T // 1,888 // Steve/Bucky // Post-CATWS Summary: The serum means that Steve can't scar anymore, though he's retained his pre-existing scarring. While in the hospital recovering from the fight on the helicarrier, Steve does a little introspection about this. It's bittersweet.

Without Regret by ABrighterDarkness E // 5,284 // Steve/Thor Summary: It had been a very long time since Steve had last felt like this. There was a buzz in his mind and tingling through his body. His movements were just slightly slower, clumsier and his were words spoken a little more loosely with a tongue that felt more weighty than it ought to. Even that, though, felt different than the last time that he’d had the opportunity to overindulge with a friend.

Love and Learning by ABrighterDarkness T // 7,746 // Steve/Natasha Summary: It reminded him, a little bit, of stepping into a machine seeing everything in varying shades of grey. Only to stumble out again into a world of color more vibrant than anything he could have possibly imagined. Overwhelming but entirely breathtaking and welcome.

Good by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier T // 1,062 // Steve/Bucky/Tony Summary: Steve returns to the compound and finds that the two men he loves, but never told his feelings to, are a couple now.

Lie to Me by Kit T // 2,102 // Steve/Bucky // Body Swap Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Steve and Natasha end up trapped in the others body. Instead of telling everybody, they make a bet. Who will be able to conceal their identity the longest?

Dream a Little Dream of Me by buckybleeds E // 5,719 // Steve/Bucky // Dub-con; Self-cest Summary: Steve goes back in time to comfort himself after Bucky fell and ends up having sex with himself. 

Pride by Kit T // 1,726 // Steve/Bucky Summary: Tony wants to take Steve to pride to watch him freak out. Natasha tags along to do damage control.

Take Care of You by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier M // 1,756 // Steve/Bucky // Daddy Kink; Age Difference; AU Summary: Steve has been so busy with his work as a commander at shield lately, that he has barely had time for his partner Bucky. Bucky’s worried his Daddy might not want him anymore and Steve has to rectify this by showing how much he loves his baby.

Love Has Left a Printed Trace by Girl_Back_There E // 1,726 // Steve/Bucky // Vampires; Dub-con Summary: Steve is obsessed with finding a mysterious figure named Winter in paintings throughout the years. James is a Vampire named Winter charged with keeping Vampires a secret from humanity.

with the weight of the world at the tips of my fingers by avintagekiss24 E // 4,420 // Steve/Reader // AU Summary: You and Steve share a morning in bed.

Always You by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier M // 1,691 // Steve/Bucky // AU Summary: After a year of traveling, Steve finally comes home and confesses his feelings to Bucky.

Stop the World by Rex E // 6,828 // Steve/Scott // AU Summary: When Steve got hired to entertain at Cassie Lang's thirteenth birthday party, he had thought it was going to be like every other kid's party he'd booked. He'd show up, play Captain America, get paid, and go home. He never quite gets to that last step, but to be fair, there was no way he could have anticipated the draw of Scott Lang.

Always by Rex G // 437 // Steve/Matt Murdock // Canon Divergence Summary: Even the Devil of Hell's Kitchen needs an angel from time to time. This one just happens to be from Brooklyn.

Glass by Rex M // 859 // Gen // Non-graphic torture; Implied non-con; Referenced suicide Summary: "We'll lose." "Then we'll do that together, too." Sokovia crashed, Ultron won, and he always had hated Tony the most.

We are already home by Bitters E // 4,948 // Steve/Bucky Summary: Steve carries an injured Bucky through a portal into…somewhere else? But they’re together, like they always have been, and that’s all that matters.

end of the line, time to go home. by moonythejedi394 M // 3,484 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence; Daddy Kink; Age Play/Regression Summary: Steve and Bucky always said they were together 'til the end of the line. But even they have to get off the train eventually. Everybody always figures, at the end of the line is... Y'know. The End. But actually, at the end of the line is happily ever after. It just took them a few decades and a couple suitcases of trauma to get there.

Not Technically A Bromance by dontcallmebree M // 8,657 // Steve/Bucky Summary: “A bromance?” Bruce asks, voice tinged with restrained laughter. “Yeah, we have one of those.” Steve glowers at Bruce, who’s patently laughing at him, eyes bright and twinkling with mirth. Bruce composes himself, biting at his bottom lip. “And you’ve had sex how many times?” (Inspired by that tweet, you know the one.)

At the Top of My Lungs by ralsbecket T // 1,646 // Steve/Tony Summary: Two months had passed since Tony had lost his life; since they had laid him to rest six feet under. It was two months of trying to keep his world from further falling apart, and it wasn’t really working in his favor. So, no. No, he wasn’t okay.

Thor’s Art Class for the Heroes of Midgard by WinterSabbath T // 6,338 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: In which Thor makes it his mission to help mend the broken, cold relationship between Steven and James through the only way he can think of: Art class. As a bonus, he also helps the team loosen up.

So Let It Happen by Bitters E // 2,287 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve comes home from a tough mission and needs to get out of his head. His husband and retired Avenger is only too happy to help him with this.

Made of Glass (The Way You See Through Me) by ralsbecket T // 1,132 // Steve/Tony // AU Summary: Steve wasn’t sure what came over him when the model walked out from the back room, wearing a robe; from the moment his eyes landed on his face, he was just… awestruck. Dark hair, bright eyes, full lips. He was fucking beautiful. Or, the one where Tony is the model in Steve's life-drawing class.

for your cooperation by xceru E // 3,145 // Steve/Nat // Canon Divergence Summary: Hydra kidnaps Natasha on a routine mission in Cairo. When Steve finds her, Natasha decides that it's his turn to play prisoner.

my heart in the still winter air by xceru E // 11,887 // Steve/Bucky/Nat // Canon Divergence Summary: “He will,” Steve says, and suddenly Natasha understands. This is the man that Steve altered his heart for, the one he thought only the serum could love. But now Steve knows better—he knows he’s bisexual—he knows his love is real, and the man that it belongs to is undead.

Won't Let Go by afalsebravado E // 2,358 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve is on the hunt for the Winter Sold-- Bucky. He's on the hunt for Bucky when the leads dry up and he heads home to regroup. But a package from Tony Stark arrives on his doorstep and makes him re-evaluate old promises.

The Truth of Who I Am by hawkeyeandthewintersoldier T // 1,203 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: Steve Rogers is not a cis straight man and he is tired of people erasing that and other parts of his identity so he fits into the image they already had of him.

Bruise of a Rose by marvelousmoons G // 1,710 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence Summary: It’s moments like this that get under his skin the most. The way Steve can just… be Steve. Be dramatic and give Bucky the cold shoulder for simply caring. But Bucky was stronger. He could play Steve’s game. He wouldn’t cave, no. He would sit and wait for the silence to overwhelm Steve first.

... And all I got was this lousy t-shirt by RainbowNerds M // 3,126 // Steve/Bucky // AU Summary: A month ago, Steve had the best sex of his life with a guy he met in a bar, and went home with the most hideous shirt he'd ever seen but no phone number. Enter his new roommate, Becca. The two instances are not connected, right?

Love you too, jerk by WinterRaven G // 636 // Steve/Bucky // Canon Divergence; Fanart included Summary: Steve makes breakfast for Bucky and their 'kids' help him wake up his husband.

[faccal]

30 Question Tag Game

I was just tagged by both @simonxriley and @playstationmademe thank you both so much!!!

Tagging @nicole5kr , @link-avalon , @soapmctavish89 ​, @keeganxlogan ​, @actual-garbage-gay ​,  and anyone else who wants to do this!

Rules: Answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs (I don't know enough people, lol!)

1. Name/Nickname: Caleb/Amry

2. Gender: Male

3. Star Sign: Aries

4. Height: 5'5

5. Time: 10:26am

6. Birthday: March 28

7. Favorite Bands: Rammstein, Ghost, Panic! at the Disco, Eisbrecher, Metallica, Megadeath, Black Label Society, Black Sabbath, Korn, Hollywood Undead, In This Moment, Linkin Park, Slipknot, System of a Down, and dozens more, lol.

8. Favorite Solo Artists: Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, Johnathan Davis, Jaymes Young, Ozzy Osbourne, Marilyn Manson, Jeremy Renner, and once again, dozens more!

9. Song stuck in my head: Wolf Totem by the HU featuring Jacoby Shaddix

19. Last Movie: 47 Hours To Live

20. Last Show: Grey's Anatomy

21. When did I create this blog: Sometime this year, I just can't remember the exact date.

22. What do I post: Content about my fics, I reblog a lot of things I find cute or funny, gaming stuff, mostly Fallout NV and CoD.

23. Last thing googled: The Alphabet Mafia

24. Other blogs: Just the one right now. I have an old one I haven't used in years because the fandoms associated with it got too toxic. I may log into it again some time, delete a lot of the fandom posts, and just use to for whatever.

25. Do I get asks: Yes, but feel free to ask more!

26. Why I chose my url: In 2018 I started playing CoD Ghosts, and in 2019 I suddenly became obsessed. I couldn't control it, I couldn't get rid of it. My mind was always on it, and on Keegan x Logan in particular. My friend and I discovered a while back, that Keegan and Logan's ship name is technically WalRuss. (we were trying to figure out ship names, lol.) So my URL became KeeganxLoganShipNameIsWalRuss

27. Following: 170

28. Followers: 26

29.Average hours of sleep: usually 8 or less.

30. Lucky numbers: 3, 7, 13, 17, 27, 37

31. Instruments: I used to play guitar until my first string snapped. I haven't been able to get it fixed yet.

32. What am I wearing: grey Hanes pajama set, it's super warm and comfy.

33. Dream job: being a doctor.

34. Dream trip: traveling to Germany and Scotland, looking at all of the old castles and beautiful landscapes.

35. Favorite foods: chicken, strawberries, and pizza

36. Nationality: American 

37. Favorite song: currently, it's tie between Wolf Totem by the HU featuring Jacoby Shaddix, and Paris by Else.

38. Last book read: The Savior's Champion by Jenna Moreci

39. Top three fictional universes I’d like to live in: Thedas (Dragon Age), Tamriel (Elder Scrolls) I can't think of a third one.

Thanks for the tags guys! This was fun!!

[aspiring-dm]

Three-Headed Puppy Is Back On His Bullshit

So, some of you may have read my previous post about Paolo Manchado, the Cerberus from a game of Monsterhearts I’m playing in.  The game has mostly just been me playing and the GM torturing me with the awful choices I impose on myself.  Paolo has ended up being one of my favorite characters to play due to the deep, painful, emotional trauma I experience while portraying this innocent monster.  This post is going to be a more in-depth look at the first three sessions I’ve played with him.

So in session one, we’re off to a somewhat slow start that many powered by the apocalypse games experience where the GM is frustrated trying to figure out what the player(s) want to do and the player(s) are frustrated trying to figure out what they’re supposed to do.  I’ve never been a fan of any games that take place inside a school because the act of roleplaying the menial act of going to classes bores me sooo much (I was in many free text role plays on supercheats and figment that had this problem).  

Paolo is a Cerberus.  In particular, THE Cerberus “gave birth” to him, a phrase which here means he woke up in Unity, New Hampshire, knowing he was Paolo Manchado, son of Cerberus, put here on earth to ensure that the beings of light and dark remain in their place.  That goal makes up every fiber of his being the same way blood and bones make up you and me.  He gets very frustrated because humans keep trying to get him to feel human and he keeps telling them “I am incapable of feeling the same way you do about life, relationships, and purpose.  Not I DON’T feel the same way, not I WON’T.  I CAN’T.”

So we started off in a classroom, and then there was a car crash outside.  The car had crashed into nothing, so Paolo was searching around for invisible creatures, visiting her in the hospital, gazing into the abyss, trying to find answers but nothing was really going anywhere.  

Then he encounters Ronan, who directs him at Elijah, who he’s apparently trying to avoid.  Paolo could smell death on Elijah and chased him under a bridge, demanding to know what he was.  Turns out, he’s basically a zombie.  

Elijah’s backstory is that he was seduced by Ronan, who took him back to his cabin, starting making out, started getting handsy, started getting knifey, and then sacrificed Elijah in a dark ritual.  Elijah came back, though, now in undead form, with some dark violent tendencies he can’t control.

Paolo lets Elijah go and goes to track down Ronan, the true problem here.  Specifically, Paolo’s not concerned with the mere existence of zombies or warlocks in his town, just when they start interfering with mortal lives, which Ronan had willfully done.  After talking a bit to Elijah’s ex, Hero, Paolo manages to track down Ronan’s house.  They traded lots of high philosophy arguments that I forget most of, which mostly amounted to Paolo demanding that Ronan not hurt anybody else and Ronan shrugging and going “What can you do?  Gotta break a few eggs.”  Ronan is frustrating and clearly Neutral Evil.  His alignment doesn’t concern Paolo, though, only his risk factor of exposing the dark side of the world.

So Paolo leaves.  By the way, having been born without parents, or money, or a social security number, Paolo’s only possessions are the clothes on his back.  As such, he lives in an abandoned boxcar, like the Boxcar Children.  This is important to note because when he gets back there, Elijah is waiting, depressed.  They talk a lot about Elijah’s issues with being dead, his personality defects both before and after dying, his relationship issues, etc.  Then they both went to sleep together.  Before you ask, yes, there were gay vibes, but that’ll just make it worse later.

That night, Paolo discovered he had the ability to enter a sort of mindscape, which was essentially Elijah’s Metaverse Palace where there was a courtroom where he played judge, jury, defendant, prosecutor, and defense.  The people on the stand were all the people Elijah had fallen in love with telling the judge Elijah how quickly he’d fallen in love with them and what he did that drove them away.

Then Paolo discovered the ability to interact with these mind-Elijahs, and took the stand before taking the role of one of the attorneys.  Thus began a long and emotional and philosophical monologue by Paolo trying to help Elijah learn how to control his emotions, how to not love to eagerly, and especially not to love people like Ronan.  See, Elijah was still in love with Ronan, even though Ronan had only used him for the sacrifice (Ronan’s mind had also gotten pulled into this Palace).  A little bit of progress was made here.  

This was about the end of session 1 I think.

Later, Paolo went to Ronan.  He’d at some point looked into Ronan’s emotions (because these are powers a Cerberus has for some reason) and learned that Ronan was obsessed with being remembered for his “scientific” achievements.  So, Paolo went to Ronan and said “I am the only creature of my kind in the entire world.  Maybe you can put your... creative energies into studying me, rather than murdering people.”  Paolo is not confident in Ronan’s agreement having a lasting effect, but as long as it’s working he’s not complaining.

That night, Hero came to Paolo’s boxcar saying that Elijah needed help.  Paolo was apprehensive at first, because it’s not really his job to help in general, but when it came to his attention that Elijah was attacking someone he agreed to follow her.

Elijah’s dark side had given him a need to be feared, and was hitting a guy’s car with a baseball bat, with the guy inside the car.  Paolo transformed in front of Hero (his eyes turn black, his hands grow bone claws and fur, and his teeth sharpen) and tried to threaten Elijah down at first, but that didn’t work, so he then convinced Elijah to come back to the boxcar and talk.

Elijah, defeated, came to the boxcar and began smashing the door with his fist repeatedly, droning and punching.  Paolo had asked this before, but he asked it again, what did Elijah want.  Elijah’s answer was always the same: he either wanted to go back to the way things were before he died, or be able to move on and die.

Paolo thinks very hard, and very conflicted.  He and Elijah had become close friends over the course of these two sessions, but Elijah’s worsening condition made him a threat to the balance between worlds Paolo was sworn to protect.  Paolo asked this wanting an instruction on what he could do.  While he knew his purpose, he was very directionless on how to achieve it.  

Paolo asked Ronan if he could reverse Elijah’s curse, but Ronan’s experiments to look into such a task would be both risky and time-consuming.  Time Paolo might not have.

So, while Elijah slept in Paolo’s boxcar, Paolo stared at his confused and broken friend and made a horrible decision.  He set about the gruesome work of chewing Elijah’s head off.  He didn’t bother trying to clean the boxcar- he knew the police would find it.  He simply buried the head in the snow, left the body in the car (in case they could reconnect somehow), and wandered off into the woods.  He stopped in the cemetery where he made his new home.  The next day, on Hero’s birthday, he told her what he had done.  It broke her more than it broke him, to say the least.

While Elijah had been alive, he’d asked Paolo what kinds of girls he was into.  Quote, “What about Jessie Lynn?... She’s cute...”  After Elijah died, somehow the words stuck with Paolo.  He’d gotten very close to Elijah very fast and it ended very badly.  Paolo just wanted somebody he could be friends with and take very slowly, without needing to deal with the whole monster thing.  So he started talking to Jessie Lynn, who played a sort of Magic the Gathering Parallel that Paolo likes because Cerberus is one of the cards in it.  And they started being friends, and that’s where session 2 ended.

AND THEN THE BULLSHIT BEGAN.  Oh, you think murdering your zombie son who you wanted to teach how to love but whose psychological illness made him a danger to himself and to society so you ATE THROUGH HIS NECK was pretty raw and emotional?  Well session 3′s the game that made me feel actual anger and cry actual tears.  This is the game where Jonah starts yelling at NPCs at 1 AM and waking up his parents.

By the way, here and there have been some interactions with Jupiter, a ghost in Paolo’s class, but she doesn’t bother him too much cause she’s not very active and can never remember anything anyway.

Fast forward three weeks, Paolo and Jessi Lynn have been getting along pretty well, nothing super serious has happened except for all the student life trauma of finding out your classmate was mysteriously murdered, police had questions, etc.

Paolo gets back to his graveyard he’s been sleeping in, because that’s his life now, and he finds Hero lying under his tree.  Who knows how she keeps finding where he sleeps.  Anyway, she looks up at him and she’s a vampire now and says she needs his help and Paolo and Jonah both go “Welp.  This’ll end badly.”  She starts telling him about how she’s been on a drinking binge since Elijah’s death and she met this vampire and she asked him to turn him because he said she could see Elijah again, and she takes Paolo to the body of someone she killed.  Paolo at this point is honestly not very conflicted.  The vampire who turned her would only be a problem if she hadn’t literally asked to be turned, but Paolo still wanted to identify the guy so he could be aware of vampires in his town.

As for Hero, he sent her to Jessie Lynn’s house (the girls were both good friends) and tried to find out anything he could about the vampire, but to no avail.  He went back to Jessie Lynn’s house to check up on her when he heard a scream, ran into the room to find Hero feeding on Jessie Lynn.  Already Paolo is panicking because if Hero’s gonna have Elijah-like impulses, it won’t be good.  Paolo tries talking, he tries pulling her off, he tries hugging her, he tries playing wounded puppy dog, but I ROLLED SIX FAILURES IN A ROW during this whole segment, giving me two level-ups within ten minutes.  AND THEN I DIED cuz Hero ripped my throat out.  Luckily I had just taken a move last session that meant I never stayed dead, so a few hours later Paolo wakes up propped against the dresser, Jessie Lynn lying on the floor with a damp towel against her neck.

Paolo is thinking, one, okay this is weird, but of course since I’m the child of the guardian of the underworld, they’d just send me back.  Two, gotta make sure Jessie Lynn is okay, yep she’ll be fine despite the big hole in her neck.  Three, gotta find Hero.  Eventually Paolo finds her in a crawl space on the staircase and get her to talk to him, reassuring her that rumors of his death were greatly exaggerated.  

Then Jessie Lynn wakes up and Paolo keeps Hero hidden in the crawl space until there’s and opportunity for her to get away, and he tells Hero that if she can’t get into her own house (due to needing an invitation) he’s recently been sleeping near Ronan’s cabin in the woods, which no one lives in.  Jessie doesn’t remember much about the attack, and Paolo struggles to find a good lie, but luckily “I don’t know” seemed to work well enough.  While Paolo’s wounds have vanished, his clothes are still coated in his blood (which right now we’re going to pretend Jessie thought was her blood), and she offered to let him borrow some of her dad’s clothes while she washed those.  So the fanfiction begins, and then while Jessie is making tea and dinner Hero runs out the door.

Fanfiction continues, a moment where Jessie reaches for Paolo’s mug and he thinks she’s going for his hand so he reflexively takes her hand awkwardly.  Then of course they end up sharing the same bed, and then the smutty stuff began.

I’ve been portraying Paolo as semi-aromantic?  Not exactly fitting that label, the main idea being that as he is a Cerberus, he doesn’t experience the same range of emotions that humans do, but he does still possess a human-ish body with sexual urges.  I think it’s possible he’s capable of romantic love, but so far such a thing couldn’t happen with any creature from this world.

So anyways, after a somewhat awkward first time for both of them, Paolo basically confesses as much as he can about himself without outright telling Jessie monsters exist.  He tries to explain that if she had known the parts he can’t tell her about they might not have happened like this, but she doesn’t seem concerned about it at all.

So onward from there, Paolo heads out the next morning to the cabin to find Hero’s broken into it and slept on the bed.  Paolo scrounges up some clothes for her and gives her his hoodie hoping it’ll be enough to protect her from the sun, but it’s not enough.  Also we later retconned, because the fanfic nature of this game demanded it, and decided that Paolo made no attempt not to watch her change and Hero made no attempt not to be watched changing, which may or may not be relevant in future sessions, idk.  They decide they’ll have to wait til nightfall, and Paolo leaves for school.

Now, Paolo has never not worn his hoodie anywhere.  Given as its one of the only things he owns, he doesn’t really take it off much.  But in this case, he’s forgotten to get it back from Hero, exposing the snake tattoos on his back (there are many snakes, all of their heads coming to the back of his neck while the tails slide down his back and curl around his upper arms).  Several students were curious about them.  Things during the day with Jessie were about the same, except she kept giving Paolo playful looks of “I know what your dick looks like.”

Paolo spends that day trying to get Jupiter to not walk through walls and then spends some time with Jessie before returning to the cabin.  Having discovered that his blood sates Hero’s hunger and also he can’t die even if she overfeeds, he decides to become her personal blood bank to keep her from attacking people.

Then the two of them go shopping to get her some clothes that don’t look like they were made for a lumberjack twice her size.  She immediately gets into the vampire look, with the black, and the fishnets, and yadda yadda.  She also gets Paolo a black leather jacket, to which his response was “I already have a jacket though... I wear it everyday.”  She also insists he pick something out, so he gets a pair of fingerless gloves, which apparently Elijah also wore and Hero gets quiet for a moment.

Paolo then takes Hero home and invites her into her own house before her dad comes downstairs and grounds her.  Paolo returns to the cabin.  Previously he’d been sleeping outside under a tree because he didn’t expect Ronan would appreciate him breaking in, but now that Hero’s already broken a window and now that Paolo’s experienced what a real bed feels like, he decides to go in and sleep on the bed.

So, Saturday, Paolo and Jessie meet up and they decide to go help Hero (who at this point, I believe Jessie thinks she was sexually assaulted based on the vague approximations of what Paolo’s told her) and spend time with her while she’s grounded.  Paolo knows that grounding is a punishment given by parents to their children, but he’s unclear on what exactly that means, so he spends a little while just trying to find a roundabout way of getting Hero to say what grounding is without him directly asking.

Hero’s got garbage bags up on all the windows, saying she sunburns super easily now.  Jessie goes into another room to try to find something more permanent, leaving Hero and Paolo to FUCKING discuss the fact that Paolo hasn’t told Jessie Hero’s a vampire, or what he is.  This is the part where I started feeling Paolo’s anger and frustration, because they get into an argument and then Jessie enters the room and Hero goes “Hey, I’m a vampire, and it’s his job to kill me!”  Paolo tries to play it off like a joke, and then Hero shows Jessie her fangs.  Paolo, in his anger, just shuts down for a moment, goes to close the door, and slumps down in front of it, now trying to process in his head if this information is going to leave this room, or if he has to repeat what he did with Elijah with the girl he slept with and also Elijah 2.0.  Jessie runs out another door in the room, Paolo makes no attempt to stop her and angrily starts yelling at Hero about his job and how her actions were totally reckless, if Jessie tells anyone there will be panic on both sides of the divide and basically a war would just break out.  Hero’s trying to act like it’s not that bad and Paolo’s not having any of it, and he’s trying not to bring up the fact that it’s very possible he has to KILL both of them now.

So he leaves and tracks down Jessie hiding in the hollow of a tree.  Some notes about Paolo’s role play, his voice is always very ineffectual and emotionless, he often hums three times while trying to think about things he doesn’t find super serious.  In this moment, though, he angrily stands outside this tree and demands Jessie talk to him.  She tries to leave multiple times during this conversation, but he keeps stopping her.  Says “Guess now I have to tell you.”  He explains everything about Elijah being dead and Hero being a vampire and his job to make sure normal humans never find out about it.  Looking back, he never actually said anything about what he is, just his job.  And then he gets to truth of what happened to Elijah and he says “It seems manipulative to tell you this!  It feels like a threat, and there’s no way to get around it being a threat!” And he tells her that he killed Elijah.  Then she leaves, and he just stands there.  In his mind, he’s making a gamble.  He’s gonna hope Jessie doesn’t tell anyone, and if she does... well, he can start killing people later.  For now he just wants to feel like he’s accomplishing something, so he goes back to help Hero with her window situation.

Hero and Paolo have a long argument containing many typical elements of Paolo arguments, such as “it won’t be that bad if people find out,” and “you can choose your own destiny” vs. “I literally cannot I am not a human.”  Somewhere in here I started crying actual tears as Paolo’s defeated by the world.  He wants so badly to not have to kill anybody and he’s remembering how awful it was with Elijah when he failed him.  

Hero leaves the house for a bit, and when she comes back Paolo is still standing in the middle of the room.  He’s so lost on what he should do he can’t even figure out if he should go anywhere or move at all.  The first time she tries to comfort him, he turns away from her, in his mind the current situation is her fault to begin with.  The next few times he shows no sign of accepting or resisting.  She hugs him, makes him sit on the bed, makes him lie on the bed, and plays with his hair after calming him down a little.  She tries to get him to stop thinking for a bit, which only happens when she starts humming a song, but beyond that his mind is racing.  She falls asleep and Paolo assumes she expected him to, but his version of sleep is actually consciously gazing into the abyss, so his options are either think while conscious in this world, or think while conscious in the abyss.  The abyss is the more informative and intimidating of the options, so he just stays awake until she wakes up again.

That’s where we are now.  Fucking three sessions and Paolo’s already broken.  Oh: right after sleeping with Jessie he took the move Loyal, so Jessie’s basically his master.  ALSO, though, Jessie hates him now and wants nothing to do with him, so unfortunate timing on that.  *shrug*

[dreadhaus-literature]

{A/N} Waiting on the Sun to Rise.

Oh how I wish that ol’ sun would rise~♫

I wrote a bit. {Points down.} It’s nothing special, 2nd POV just ‘cause idk what’s going on with anything again and it feels weird to try and write dedicated pieces when stuff’s off. {Waves a hand in a circle.} Said it before, but this time I’m trying not to let it keep me from writing. Used to use that as an excuse to not write or do anything but I keep saying if I keep that up I’ll literally never do anything and I’m in my 30′s, now.

I’m ready to do stuff. And so I’m gonna do stuff.

I’ve been reading “The Writer’s Process” by Anne Janzer, which was recommended to authors who want to know how to prep for writing seriously, sort of like a “how to get started writing novels” 101 book. It had really good reviews on Amazon and I’m on Chapter Five right now. It’s only about 200 pages long, if that, but it’s honestly really useful. It’s got good tips on balancing work/personal life with trying to write (like you have to actually dedicate time to write, can’t just expect to write a novel on wishful thinking) or how to help stimulate creativity. It includes tidbits and tips from psychologists who have done studies on the best way to tackle creative processes like writing so you can get the most out of your writing; it’s really been a helpful tool. The chapter I’m on right now talks about tackling procrastination, lmao, and how to self-discipline--which I have said is one of my biggest problems. I make excuses, I find reasons to not write, I let myself get distracted, but I’ve been saying all year I’m tired of looking back on the year before and spying all the wasted time and just sighing @ myself.

There’s no excuse other than me being lazy and/or making excuses. The older I get, the less forgiving I get with myself about it.

My 20′s I am now realizing was really not a good time for me to try and get published, I’m sort of allowing myself a pass because now that I’m out of that decade, I realize I was working through a lot of shit. I was still dealing with abuse into my late 20′s and while no one’s life is perfect I recognize that I wasn’t in a good enough headspace to dig deep and write well. My emotions are 97% of my writing and they weren’t right. Now that I’m in a better place in all aspects (still working on the living situation, but got less than a year to go, there) I can shelve the self-reflective work and start trying to make something of this talent and imagination I’ve got.

I don’t really know where this aggressive, “I am going to write.” mojo has come from. I mean I’ve always, always known I wanted to be an author but it was sort of a hobby more than a career. I wasn’t taking it seriously and there’s probably lots of reasons for that--

1. Was dealing with depression and teetering on finding any self-worth enough to try to make something of myself. 2. Been told from a young age that I was not good enough and to give up/not bother trying because I won’t make it. 3. Afraid of failure and the resulting, “I told you so”‘s.

So yeah. I just hid behind fanfiction and sprinkling my OC’s and plotlines through fandom work, which allowed me to express what I wanted to express without fear of failure or putting myself out there. But that’s not enough, at least...I don’t know. I’ll always have a heavy preference for writing for FL and Monica and stuff, but I treat that like...hm. Almost like a treat? It’s a treat for me. To give something of myself to someone I love very much. Her reactions will always be my favorite.

Stepping outside of that, though, fanfiction stopped being enough for me a number of years ago. It was too confining, I had so many ideas and characters and themes and stuff I wanted to put out there that I didn’t want to work in a confined space anymore. Y’know that saying, “Of course you’re uncomfortable and unhappy where you are--you’ve grown, you’ve changed, you are no longer that person. It’s time to move on.”

I feel that.

It was like wearing a pair of shoes that were too small. Yes, I could wear them and get somewhere, but not the distance I needed, and wanted to go. My hopes of being published haven’t gone away. I’m scared to try still, lol, I know my writing’s good, it’s the one thing I know I’m good at, but the way I want to do it is different than the norm. In a way, selfishly, I feel like Christine. She was one of the only people writing paranormal romance when she started, and she’s said how she had to push and push to get her publisher to take a chance on her work, that she knew she had something good and she didn’t give up on it. And now, we have the Carpathians. ♥ I’m somewhat in the same boat with wanting to write 2nd POV. I’m totally capable of making a heroine and giving her a name and backstory but I know what I like to read when I read fanfiction. 2nd POV. It’s more personal, it resonates, and tbh it helped me through some really difficult parts of my life. I want to return that to my readers. To give them that personal immersion that 2nd POV provides. But those aren’t the books that are published.

I’m getting ahead of myself. I don’t have a novel finished or anything, lmao. I just, it’s one of my fears. That I’ll write this novel in 2nd POV and not be able to get it published...but I suppose I should cross the first part of that particular problem before anything else. Can’t fret about being published if there ain’t shit TO publish, DOT.

I’ve got a few novel ideas. Milano hasn’t gone away, lol. He still lurks about, like he’s just waiting for me to get my ass in gear and actually write his book properly.

...I really did sort of just use Yu Yu Hakusho to sort of write my own practice novel of Milano’s, lmao, if I’m being honest. I mean I did also want to go the hipster route and write for Yusuke because he was so under-loved in the community and I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t subjugating favoritism but truthfully I wanted to let Milano loose. I was proud of him, proud of the story and world I’d created around him, and I needed an outlet for it and was too young to know what to do with what I had. Was fucking 18 years old, fresh out of high school, and in way over my head honestly. Now that I’m matured, older, and my ADHD isn’t kicking my brain around like a pinball machine, I think I can do him proper justice.

So yes, Milano, I will still be writing your novel. Just uh, don’t ask me when. Baby steps.

I also have Bram’s story that I wrote 20 some odd pages of outline and prep work on, that I fully intended to novelize. And I still think I have something there, so hold onto your obsession, Bram. You’re up on the board, too.

The most recent idea I had was for a series of novels, called Help Wanted. It actually started from the most recent story I wrote for Monica, where she delivered those specialized herbs to Milano. I essentially work in a service industry and it got me thinking about how I like to take care of people, that you don’t typically see that in romance novels. Usually the heroine is the one being taken care of and while I won’t object to that, I also like to do the taking care of. And it’s not an itch I get to scratch a lot, when I read. So I have been tossing around this series of novels where the heroine of each book is a caregiver of some sorts, taking care of the love interest in some way, shape, or form.

For example, the idea I came up with today was for a human nanny (the reader) who gets hired by a vampire to take care of his child after his wife was staked/murdered. The vampire is hopeless as a father and needs all the help he can get, and his child needs a proper caregiver. The nanny comes highly recommended and to make matters worse, when shown a list of potential caregivers the child picks her out of all the other candidates. The vampire is wary of allowing a human in his home but he’s rewarded when his little one flourishes under the love and attention the new nanny brings. Can the vampire come to trust and love one of the very same who killed his late wife?

Another idea I had was for a bubbly housekeeper/caregiver who comes to care for a depressed zombie/undead. The undead can barely take care of themselves and the caregiver was hired by a Wellness Committee, who keep tabs on supernaturals (think like child or elder protective services). The undead wants nothing to do with life but can’t die--but maybe, just maybe, with a little bit of TLC from their caregiver they can learn to live again. Happily, with the one who truly saved their soul.

Obviously don’t judge me too harshly, I’m literally like two days into this idea, lmao. It’s rough around the edges, like super rough, but it’s something that speaks to me. It’d be sort of like the Carpathians as in like, a shared universe, with all sorts of different love interests per novel--it’d be paranormal so there’d be monsters and demons and ghosts, weres and mers and just--maybe even superheroes! Or that could be a spin-off series or just--

See it’s just a lot and it’s all brand new and I’m still working all this out.

BUT! What’s exciting to me is that I have ideas, still. I still want to write, I’m still living in this creative, imaginary headspace and I’m still wanting to share that world. I think I’ll just always be this person, and that’s not a complaint. I’m glad. Imaginary places got me through my childhood and tbh it’s what’s getting me through this hectic shit we call adulthood.

I’ve been saying, all year, that I’m going to keep going and I’ll probably keep saying it. I’m still working a lot of stuff out, still figuring out my writing process and I need to get back to writing every day (I did it for the first three months of the year so I know I can do it) so that when the time comes for me to sit down and write for Milano, for Bram, for Help Wanted--

That I’ll still be ready to go. 💕

[jenroseyokel]

Awesome of the Year 2018: The Books

Happy New Year! ‘Tis the season for year end lists left and right as we attempt to figure out the best of everything from 2018. And of course, as a fan of books, music, and movies, it’s only right to get in on the list-making. Over the next week or so, I’ll be sharing my 2018 favorite lists. First up: books! This year, I set my Goodreads reading challenge at 40 books, and actually passed it. I’ve been setting arbitrary book goals for years, but I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve succeeded since 2007. Probably because of all the graphic novels and comic trades I read this year WHICH TOTALLY COUNT BTW. Ahem. Anyway. This isn’t really a best of 2018 list so much as a Here’s a Bunch of Books I Really Liked in 2018 list, split up into categories. I hope you’ll find something interesting here, especially if you’re looking for ways to spend bookstore or Amazon gift cards you got for Christmas… ;)

Newish Books by Rad Christian Women:

Every Arbitrary Book Goal should have a small correlated goal attached. This year mine was to make sure I read at least 50% women authors… and there have been a lot of GREAT new books from women writers in the past few years. If the “Christian women” section of your local bookstore makes you cringe a little inside too, check out these three wonderful books, all released in the past couple years:

Courage, Dear Heart by Rebecca K. Reynolds (NavPress, 2018)

Anyone who has read Rebecca’s writing knows she needed to write a book. She has a sharp mind, a poet's soul, a scientist's eye, and the most beautiful, tender heart. Also, she's an incredible writer who loves her readers with a love that radiates off every page. Buy a copy for everyone you know.

Wearing God by Lauren F. Winner (HarperOne, 2017) Girl Meets God was a formative book in my early 20s, and I’ve always meant to read more from this author, but somehow haven't. I finally picked up this one and oh man, for a solid month afterward I couldn’t stop thinking about it. With the eye of a scholar and the heart of a poet, Winner draws on personal stories, deep Biblical study, and a love of language to explore lesser known metaphors for God. Liturgy of the Ordinary by Tish Harrison Warren (InterVarsity Press, 2016)

Several years ago, James K.A. Smith’s Desiring the Kingdom helped me see liturgy in a new way, as not just religious practice, but the embedded routines that shape us. In this book, Tish Warren brings that idea to life as she walks through an ordinary day explores the holiness in our most mundane moments of living. You may not look at brushing your teeth or losing your keys the same way again.

Good Stories

This year, fiction reading was… all over the place? I don’t know if I read much that was OMG amazing, but here are a few that were fun…

The Fairyland Series 2-5 by Catherynne M. Valente (Feiwel & Friends, 2012-2015)

I am notoriously awful at finishing book series. I read the first Fairyland book maybe… two years ago? Yikes. Just finished the last one and wow, so fun. Colorful characters, a whimsical narrator, crazy locations, and a whole lot of heart make this Victorian fairytale meets contemporary fantasy a delight to read. 

Til We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis (Harcourt, 1956)

Lewis’ contemporary retelling of the Cupid and Pschye myth through the eyes of Psyche’s jealous sister Orual. Second read for me, and even better this time around. Pretty sure this is Lewis’ storytelling at his best.

Strange Practice by Vivian Shaw (Orbit, 2017)

This was a year to embrace fun, nerdy reads. So there was the Star Trek spoof Redshirts (with a plot twist I totally saw coming... and I am not good at guessing plot twists) and my first trip into the Star Wars extended book universe (or whatever the heck they call it these days) and… this. A story about a doctor for the undead in London, trying to solve the mysteries surrounding a murderous cult and keep her monster friends safe. Not the greatest, but a fun Halloween read. I’ll get to the sequel eventually. (See also: bad at finishing book series.)

Poetry for Everyone 

Another new reading practice this year: always keeping a poetry book on the bedside table. Poetry books are best for leisurely dipping in and out rather than reading cover to cover. If you think poetry is only for the ivory towers, give these writers a try and think again.

A Child's Year by Christopher Yokel (Independent, 2018)

Okay, I’m biased here, but hey! Chris quietly released a new poetry book into the world this fall, and I’m a big fan of Chris AND his poems. A Child’s Year is a season cycle, sort of like his last book A Year in Weetamoo Woods, but this time it’s anchored by a four part poem recalling the journey of seasons through childhood eyes. And according to our friend Kirsten’s 7-year-old son, he gets the experience right. ;) 

The Jubilee by John Blase (Bright Coppers Press, 2017) For his 50th birthday, John Blase released his first poetry book, with a poem for every year of life. It’s rare for me to make it through an entire collection start to finish but these were just so good. There are poems about aging — the author’s and his parents’ — and poems that evoke wide spaces and natural wonder. There are psalms and parables, and meditations on dying and, yes, living. All of them finely tuned with wisdom, gentle grace, and a touch of humor in all the right places. How I Discovered Poetry by Marilyn Nelson (Dial Books, 2014)

When I heard Marilyn Nelson read her poem “Thirteen-Year-Old American Negro Girl” on the On Being podcast, I was captivated. And when I found this lovely hardcover in a used bookstore back home in Florida, I knew I needed to read more. This is a memoir in poetry about growing up in a black military family during the American Civil Rights era, told with gentle lyricism, warmth, and humor. Plus, the book itself is lovely with whimsical illustrations and family photos.

Comics!

I’m always on a quest to get more comics in my life. Plus knocking out a whole series in a couple weeks is a solid way to pad out your Arbitrary Book Goal.

Amulet 1-7 by Kazu Kibuishi (Graphix, 2008-2016)

After their father’s tragic death, Emily and Navin move with their mom to a strange old house that belonged to their great-grandfather… and so the adventure begins. In this fantasy series, the two kids find themselves in an underground world of demons, robots, talking animals, and a dangerous and powerful Amulet. A captivating and beautifully illustrated fantasy tale. Ms. Marvel 1-5 by G. Willow Wilson (Marvel, 2014-2016)

Y’all, I super want to be a Marvel nerd. But alas, I can't keep up, so I get my sister to loan books to me. Ms. Marvel is my new fave. A Pakistani-American girl from Jersey City has the power to grow, shrink, and stretch her body at will. So she’s trying to fight crime, keep up at school, and well, stay out of trouble with her parents. So fun. (Dear Disney: I really want this kid to show up in Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. before it gets canceled kthxbye.)

The Legend of Wonder Woman by Ranae De Liz and Ray Dillon (DC Comics, 2016)

Weren’t we all mildly obsessed with Wonder Woman after the 2017 film? Another one I borrowed from my sister. A solid take on Diana’s origin story that’s accessible for comic n00bs (ahem, like me) who can’t figure out where to begin with beautiful art and a lot of heart.

The Classic I Finally Read 

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen I always try to tackle either a thick intimidating novel or an unread classic in the wintertime. This year, I worked on my Austen deficiency and discovered I relate a little too much to Elinor Dashwood.

What’s Next?

In the new year, I think my goal is less about numbers and more about reading widely. I liked the 50% women authors goal because it helped me actively choose to support women writers. This year, hoping to read more books by authors of color, explore some new ideas and genres, and hopefully do a better job reading deeply and taking notes. I’ve got my eye on Book Riot’s Read Harder Challenge too, perhaps as a way to dig into new things I wouldn’t normally notice. And yeah... perhaps a monthly reading life update is a thing I can do here on the blog. :)

If you’re curious to see the full list of What I Read This Year and follow along with me in 2019, feel free to follow me on Goodreads!

What were some of your favorite reads in 2018? And what are your goals for the new year? I’d love to hear all about it in the comments!

[scrumptiousdonutangel]

All

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?

You are enough by sleeping at last, Good old days by macklemore and kesha, Blood//Water by Grandson, Eyes to the sky by Jon Bellion, High hopes by panic! at the disco, and Cowboy casanova by Carrie Underwood (I know its alot of genres)

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

TOM HOLLAND

3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

“We looked carefully, but saw no apparitions”

4: What do you think about most?

This is going to sound full of myself, but i think about myself alot. I just like to self reflect and try to improve whatever i think can be improved upon.

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?

“No problem, I can try to make it work”

6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

with. I live with too many people to be sleeping nude.

7: What’s your strangest talent?

I can scream EXACTLY like a horror movie. I had to pretend to be a murdered scream for this real life clue thing once and it was awesome

8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)

Girls…. are absolutely goddesses and I fall in love with every one.

Boys…. are devilish jokers I wish I could stop falling for.

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

I think so? There’s a guy who likes me and would send me poems about “some mystery girl” who I’m like 98% sure is me

10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?

probs like last week

11: Do you have any strange phobias?

I have zoophobia actually, I love animals but they give me a huge amount of anxiety so I’ve been trying to get over it

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

I- I don’t know

13: What’s your religion?

I’m a christian, I actually got saved last year around this time!

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

Swimming

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

behind. always.

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

Lately it’s been Sleeping at Last. They’re so calm but meaningful I love it

17: What was the last lie you told?

“Nooooooooooo, hahahahahaha, why would I like you???? No offense I mean you’re really… uhm. nevermind. no, I don’t” 

18: Do you believe in karma?

Abso-fuckin-lutely

19: What does your URL mean?

nothing really

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

I’ve been told they’re the same thing: I’m a really caring and sympathetic person which makes me good with people but also too trusting and gullible

21: Who is your celebrity crush?

TOM HOLLAND

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

no, but I lowkey really want to??? when I was little I read about it in nancy drew without even fully realizing what it was and I always wanted to try it

23: How do you vent your anger?

Usually by working out? I always joke that I don’t work out alot, but I bike/swim/walk/dance/do a ton of random muscle workouts pretty daily

24: Do you have a collection of anything?

I have a collection of lipsticks if that counts

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

it depends on the person, but I personally prefer video chatting just cause it’s easier to read body language

26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?

I feel like there’s ALOT of room to improve tbh

27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

nails on a chalkboard ; dude anyone with a deep voice (no matter what they identify as) has my heart in a second of speaking

28: What’s your biggest “what if”?

probably the usual “what if this had worked out” with a previous crush

29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

yes. also yes. (don’t judge me)

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

my pillow and my bed

31: Smell the air. What do you smell?

stale air. it is summer and hot. please send help.

32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?

this is gonna sound terrible, but probably in our car? I have so many bad memories and I hate driving it with a passion

33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?

west coast

34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

Shawn mendes, no doubt

35: To you, what is the meaning of life?

Helping other people

36: Define Art.

An expression of emotion so strong it makes the viewer also feel emotion

37: Do you believe in luck?

yes

38: What’s the weather like right now?

hOt

39: What time is it?

early evening

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

yes, not yet cause I barely ever drive

41: What was the last book you read?

the Odesseye

42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?

no???

43: Do you have any nicknames?

Way too many. My latest was “miracle” given to me by a ton of adorable middle schoolers who couldn’t remember anything but the first three letters of my name

44: What was the last film you saw?

the greatest showman

45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

A sprained ankle

46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?

Yeah, it’s a long story but this one I think tried to have sex with my finger

47: Do you have any obsessions right now?

dude I always do. Jane the Virgin is television gOLD

48: What’s your sexual orientation?

Right now I identify as either bisexual or pansexual 

49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?

just small ones about who I like (that weren’t true and complicated friendships)

50: Do you believe in magic?

I don’t know

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

yeah, I’ve been trying to get better at it

52: What is your astrological sign?

Saggittarious

53: Do you save money or spend it?

I spend money way too easily, I’ve been trying to learn how to save more

54: What’s the last thing you purchased?

A pretzel 

55: Love or lust?

love

56: In a relationship?

I wish

57: How many relationships have you had?

None that I’d like to count

58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

nope

59: Where were you yesterday?

At a bonfire

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

ohhhhh yeah

61: Are you wearing socks right now?

nope

62: What’s your favourite animal?

cats.

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

Friendship wise it’s just asking how their day is and asking if their doing okay. Romantic wise, I am soooo mean to people I like so usually just teasing them and buying them food

64: Where is your best friend?

right now at her home hopefully

65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.

@sophietheadventurer @s1n-am0n @darhwolf @undead-aesthetic @xqueenofpunsx

66: What is your heritage?

Mostly irish but my dad’s side has a heck of a lot of russian cause my great grandma is from Ukraine

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?

sleeping like a wimp

68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?

mcdevil

69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

Nope

70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

I don’t know actually, I try to be the type of person I think a person NEEDS, so I would probs be pretty different if i was my friend

71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

drown with the dog cause I can’t swim for crap but I’ll die trying

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

a) I would only tell a couple people at first, the rest I’d tell farther in b) spend time with my family and friends and travel a whole lot/probs write ALOT c) I’d be more sad I didn’t have more time with the people I care about

73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

love, I already don’t have trust let’s be real

74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

Good old days by macklemore just cause it’s amazing 

75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?

I’d give them out but like I already have way too many unknown numbers calling me

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

Two people who connect on a mental/emotional/spiritual level who can be completely themselves with each other and don’t have to spend all their time together, but cherish every single minute

77: How can I win your heart?

food and musicals

78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?

I think in a lot of ways it can, but that’s a whole debate in and of itself

79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

coming back to the same summer camp every year

80: What size shoes do you wear?

7 and ½

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

“Now the only extra she is is dead”

82: What is your favourite word?

chimney (long story)

83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

falling in love

84: What is a saying you say a lot?

“It’s not a look” or “oH honEy nO”

85: What’s the last song you listened to?

“God made girls” It’s been stuck in my head for ages

86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours?

it changes almost daily but right now it’s a bright pink

87: What is your current desktop picture?

subtle gay art

88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

That’s a hard question, too many horrible people alive

89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

Someone irl asking my sexuality (i am very very deep in the closet)

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

Probs go back to bed I’m a tired chick man

91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

Telepathy

92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

this one specific car ride I had with my sister when I was younger

93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

my entire life as a thirteen year old

94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

tie between Kesha and Shawn Mendes

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

Greece

96: Do you have any relatives in jail?

not that I know of but most likely yeah

97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?

wayyyyy too many times

98: Ever been on a plane?

yes

99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

I would probably freeze up and say nothing

[fourtrisheafanfic]

The Cloak (a jonerys fanfic)

Also found on Ao3: CH1

Title: The Cloak

Rating: Mature

Summary: A short dive into the beginning of S8 of GoT. Jon and Dany attempt to cloak their love as the great reveal and the tampering of others threatens to tears them apart. This will have romance, angst and smut.  I am not a GoT expert, this is not about plot points or trying to stay perfectly true to character. This fic is emotion centered and written for fun. I hope you enjoy! **I have no rights to these characters, all belong to HBO and Author of GoT**

Chapter 1: Cloaking Themselves

Walking quickly through the courtyard of Winterfell Jon stops when he notices Davos speaking closely with Gendry as they supervise the continued unloading of the dragon glass. Thankful that his men, with the manpower Daenerys had offered him, had been able to forge a large supply of weapons in addition to all of the mining of the actual glass.

They are almost out of time, upon arriving to Winterfell earlier this morning they quickly learned that the wall had fallen just days ago. It was a shock to all of them, especially to Daenerys. Learning that her lost dragon, one of her children, is now under control of the Night King. Jon sighs, remembering her steely strength while learning the news in front of numerous lords of the North.

The Northerners, all of whom were studying her every move, while shaking in fear over the threat that looms upon them. It was then that Jon loudly speaks to all present, which was many, the high and the low born. Jon explained all that Queen Daenerys was offering to do to help them: her two dragons, the Unsullied and the Dothraki. All loyal to her, all to help the North fight because of her. His people had been moved, they were scared of the undead. They welcomed Daenerys in.

Jon had never seen the people of the North so shaken. Jon had been told that the small numbers of men that escaped the falling of the wall had been semi-hysterical when they arrived. The survivors had been able to secure horses and ride like demons straight to Winterfell. Sansa had explained to Jon that seeing the normally calm and cocky Tormund beside himself in horror had shaken even the bitterest Northerner that resented the arrival of a Targaryen.  Recapping in terror what he saw, explaining in detail how the wall had fallen, Tormund had effectively brought a clear and immediate image to the North. This is indeed a serious matter, and the winter is here.

Jon needs to grab Davos so they can attend the next small council meeting that Dany is hosting. Jon already saw Tyrion, Jorah and Missandei walking towards the room as they were led by Sansa. With all of the work Sansa has done in his absence, Jon was very pleased when Dany quickly agreed that his siblings should join their inner meetings from this point forward. Sansa and Arya were happy to accept the invitation, Bran had informed Jon that his special talents would be wasted in long meetings. Jon’s brother promised that when the time was right, he would share any information that was necessary.

Quickly admiring the dragon glass tipped arrows that Gendry had taught even the youngest child to assemble, Jon reminds Davos of the time. Smirking to himself for a moment he remembers his sole purpose for agreeing to meet the Dragon Queen was to secure the material they needed to battle the night king. This trip gave him so much more than he could ever imagine.

++o+ Flashback – Camping in Route to Winterfell +o++

“Jon? What are you- -” Dany whispers as she watches Jon slip into her tent, her pulse racing at seeing her lover quietly enter. Especially since she had just been thinking about him only moments earlier.

As the Karstark family and a couple of other Northerners had joined their traveling group, the lovers had agreed to sleep apart tonight.

“Shhh, I decided that I can’t be apart from you, Your Grace. Not tonight,” Jon whispers while turning the lantern in his hand down to almost be completely off. “Or any night.”

Their eyes locking, Dany coyly smiles and pulls back the furs as an invitation for him to lie with her. Removing his warm fur cloak and tossing it on the bed as he continued to undress. Her eyes burning into him until he was fully naked. Dany, still wearing her nightgown, prompts Jon to come closer.

Sliding in next to her and pulling her close. Never breaking eye contact, Jon runs his hands up and down her lower back while pushing her body into his. Attacking his mouth with hers, Dany whimpers while trying moving to press her core closer to his in search of some release. Pulling her gown up to her waist and smiling with delight, Dany enjoys the feeling of Jon’s strong arms around her.

Dany throws one leg over Jon’s hip and begins frantically rubbing her core up and down his bare upper thigh. She whimpers as the pressure of his muscled thigh helps with the ache between her legs. Immediately feeling her moistness on his bare skin, “You weren’t wearing any underwear?” he questions. His head now thrown back and he breathes in and out.

“I took them off right before you arrived,” she touches his cheek in order to turn his face to hers. “I couldn’t sleep, I was thinking about you while touching myself.”

The image of his little dragon pleasuring herself evokes a growl, he can feel his cock hardening in response. “I am sorry then, to have interrupted you,” he says with a serious frown. Knowing his expressions well enough, Dany knows he is not angry. If anything he is thinking something through, most likely imagining her action.

“Nonsense. Besides, it wasn’t working,” Dany whispers.

“No?” Jon questions softly.

“No. It was quite frustrating. I longed for your touch, your smell, the feel of your strong body next to mine,” Dany whispers, watching as Jon takes her right hand and begins kissing her fingertips. Being her dominant hand, it had been the one whose fingertips had been desperately sliding up and down her slit, even circling her bundle of nerves with no relief. She has just groaned in frustration and given up when Jon had entered her tent, startling her.

“Show me, maybe I can help you,” Jon commands, his eyes dark with lust. Dany nods in agreement while feeling her cheeks flush, she would give him anything he asked.

Jon moves her hand slowly down her smooth stomach, his larger hand resting over hers. Both of their fingers tips resting near the start of slit. “Show me, Dany,” he says hoarsely.

Dany closes her eyes as before, imagining the King of the North as she beginning the slow movements of her index finger. Jon’s relaxed hand can feel her movements, while still not participating. Dany whimpers before sliding her finger gently into her opening, Jon’s breath hitches as his fingers briefly touch the spot where her finger disappears inside of her. He imagines his much larger cock moving in and out of her instead.

Moments pass as they embrace tightly, Dany making small noises into his chest as she continues to explore her own body. Jon breathing raggedly as he watches her face and follows the movements of her working hand. Without a word, Jon stops her for a moment to pull her nightgown off completely.

As Jon leans down to take her nipple in his mouth and move their hands back to her sweet core, Dany pleads with him.

“Jon, this is…good.  But I want you,” she whimpers pitifully. Having him so close to her, but not his ministrations on her body is torture.

“We’ll do it together, I like watching you pleasure yourself,” Jon croons against her forehead as his fingers eagerly being stroking the warm skin in between her folds. Dany immediately starts groaning as she returns her single finger inside of her to touch and explore. “Don’t stop, I want to know you are still touching yourself. Show me what you like.”

Panting Dany nods as she removes her fingers and guides his finger into her, closing her eyes in relief as his much larger finger begins stroking her. “Bring your finger back, we can do it together,” Jon says darkly.

His fingers slows as her slides in next to his, stretching her only a little more. He kisses her slowly as her mouth opens to welcome his tongue. They kiss sensually, tongues exploring and moving in sync. As they find their rhythm Jon begins moving his finger slowly in and out of her, Dany’s finger following. This continues for moments as Dany enjoys feeling herself clench around both of their fingers. Jon’s thumb begins circling her clit without warning, Dany cries out loudly.

“Dany, I purposely arranged camp so the Northerners traveling with us would have their tents set up on the furthest side from you…but we still need to be very quiet,” Jon reminds her as she nods in frustration. “They can’t hear us, it’s too soon for them to know. We must cloak what we are to each other.”

Her heart flutters at his words: what we are to each other. They have enjoyed a wonderful time together as lovers. It became very apparent to those in their immediate circle that traveled with them via ship. From the first night she welcomed Jon into her cabin, they have been unable to stay apart.

Dany smiles before nipping at his lower lip, “Then kiss me when you make me come, then no one will hear me.”

Tyrion had previously spoken to them both, letting them know that noise traveled easily throughout the ship. As a courtesy to the other passengers both have tried very hard to keep their cries of pleasure lower. It was quite the challenge as the lovers became obsessed with the other. Their favorite thing to do was enjoy the privacy of night that alternated between passion and conversation.

As Dany came around his fingers Jon smiled into her hair and held her close.

“Jon,” coming down from her high she panted, unable to get another word out. Instead rolling to lie on her back and pulling him on top of her. “I need you.”

“I need you, my queen,” Jon says while rubbing the velvety tip of his cock up and down her wet slit. “Seven hells, Dany. You are so wet.”

Dany wraps her legs around Jon’s waist, desperate to feel him inside of her. “Please, I want to feel you. Take me Jon, take me hard.”

Pushing up on his arms to stare down at the woman he loves, he slides his shaft slowly into her tight pussy. Watching her eyes flutter as he fills her completely. “Oh, yeah,” Jon groans quietly, feeling her quiver around him.

Dany smiles beautifully as her lover grimaces as she tightens around his cock to bring him even more pleasure.  Kissing her fervently he begins to move slowly, her hips then begin moving to meet his.

What had started as a slow pace soon becomes more frantic. Their breathing loud and erratic as Dany trembles under him, “Wait, come with me, Dany.” Jon groans into her neck. “Not yet…”

Dany gasps as she tries to steady her breathing, trying to stop herself from losing control. Reaching down she begins caressing and touching his balls as they slap against her butt with each powerful thrust. “Yeah, your hand. Don’t stop, Dany. You are incredible,” Jon groans before biting down on the soft flesh of her shoulder. He often feels guilty for the marks her leaves on her during their love making, even though she always assures him that she likes it. It makes Dany feel needed, the way the gentle Jon Snow loses himself while in her arms.

The pair come at the same time, moaning before joining for a kiss. Jon collapses next to his queen and pulls her close.

Moments pass as each breathes to calm down, “I can’t stay away from you,” he whispers while moving a loose strand of her hair away from her face as their eyes meet. “The truth is, I don’t want to.”

Dany studies him, her heart brimming with love. How is that this man, is the one to make her feel so loved and so safe as she never has felt before. She loves him, she knows that. She finds herself unable to say the words, not yet at least.

“Then don’t stay away from me,” she replies before kissing him softly. “Jon, I don’t want to be apart from you either.”

Jon nods, accepting her words at their true value. They hold each other and talk quietly for hours more, just as they had on the ship. They drift to sleep for just a couple of hours before the sun rises. Jon untangles himself and quickly dresses. He needs to look refreshed and put together as he walks across the camp to his tent that was set up by the other Northerners.

“Ehem, a word, your grace,” Tyrion says while falling in line with Jon as he walks. Jon nods, knowing that he is about to get a verbal scolding.

“I just need to point out, again, that you and the queen need to strive greater at masking the true nature of your relationship,” Tyrion says.

Jon stops and turns to the queen’s hand. He does like Tyrion, but the constant badgering is starting to grate on his nerves.

Raising his hands to ask for a moment to continue, “I have been in a similar position before. It was a matter of life and death, to hide the woman I love from my murderous sister who searched for any opportunity to devastate me. I can sympathize. I do.”

Jon looks around the camp, needing a moment to not stare into Tyrion’s judgmental eyes. Jon wants to be calm, he does. He notices that most are still asleep as it is quite early. “Go on,” Jon finally requests.

“My point is, and I will speak to the queen as well. In this situation, if you are both unable to cloak this relationship, it is best for you and the queen to announce it for what it is. Verses being discovered like two horny attractive people that just want to screw all the time. Even worse, she is the one that will be called the foreign whore…”

Cutting him off, Jon feels his cheeks flush and his fists tighten. “I don’t care of you are trying to make a point, you watch your mouth when you speak of her. I will not let it pass next time,” Jon hisses angrily.

Tyrion raises his hands in defeat, feeling his point was made. “Jon, you know I love and respect my queen. How angry and rational will it make you when you provide your people fodder to speak poorly of her?”

Closing his eyes in defeat, Jon accepts Tyrion’s words. It is true, his strong reaction would have been tenfold had it been from someone unfriendly to the queen.

“I understand, we will be more careful. We did a great job last night,” Jon adds quietly, remembering how careful he and Dany were during their love making.

Tyrion smirks before walking away. “Yes, great job you both did. I am sure Jorah packed up and moved his tent further away from the queen’s in the middle of the night for some other reason,” Tyrion softly calls over his shoulder before disappearing among the tents of the Dothraki.

Jon’s cheeks flush at the thought of Jorah or anyone else hearing their love making last night.

Lost in his thoughts as he makes his way to the other side of the camp he is again relieved to see there is very little activity. As Jon reaches his tent he is surprised to see that only three of the four door-flap ties are knotted closed. He specifically remembers closing all four. Looking around his tent he sees that nothing seems to have been touched.

Jon makes a mental note to ask Davos if he had tried to find him late last night or earlier this morning.

++++o+ End of Flashback +o++++

As Jon and Davos walk towards the small counsel room he admires all that Sansa has done while he has been away. Winterfell has improved so much in the many months that he was away. He is proud of his sister. He remembers the reunion with all three of his younger siblings, although rushed because of the eminent danger it was incredible to see them all. Especially Arya, Jon was able to spend all morning with her, when she and Brienne accompanied him on the tour to see all of the half assembled weapons that were ready to be completed now that they had returned with the dragon glass.

“You seem tired, my Lord,” Davos comments. Jon can hear the mirth in his voice.

“Who isn’t tired, Davos? We just rode nonstop since the early morning and haven’t even had a moment to sit down since arriving to Winterfell just hours ago,” Jon defends. Choosing to ignore the smirk on his loyal hand’s face.

Jon is hopeful that they can all settle early for their first night in Winterfell. He plans to use the excuse of having been traveling for so many weeks before their arrival home.

Jon plans to sneak into Dany’s room as soon as possible this evening. It was decided that the queen and her closest advisors would be placed in one of the more private wings of Winterfell. Which thrilled Jon, the more secluded from the busier areas, the easier it would be for Jon to move undetected.

“Jon! Wait, Bran sent me to find you. He needs to speak with you, he is waiting by the Weirwood tree,” Sam says, slightly out of breath after running across the courtyard to catch up to them.

“I know, I haven’t forgotten. I am headed to the small counsel room now, um, I will come find Bran soon. Let him know okay?” Jon asks his best friend.

“Yes, of course, Jon,” Sam mumbles, forcing a smile. He watches and Jon and Davos resume their quick pace. Sam notices an excitement in Jon’s face and tone. He wonders if he is eager to be in the presence of the beautiful queen again.

As Sam slowly makes his way to deliver the message to Bran, he thinks about what he observed earlier that morning when Jon returned. He knows Jon Snow well. The way in which he looks at the Dragon Queen, the intensity of it, was not a look that Sam didn’t understand on his best friend. He can tell that Jon has very strong feelings for her, very possibly love. Not knowing the queen at all, Sam would still bet the small smiles and the way her light up when looking at Jon mean that she feels just as strongly for him.

She is a very beautiful woman, the saving grace is that even the grumpy Northerners that resented her pending arrival had appeared transfixed over her magnificent appearance. Sam chuckles remember the great resentment and verbal bashings the Northerners had yammered on and on about for weeks as they circled in and out of Winterfell. Sansa’s patience with the griping lords had obviously been wearing thin. Arya and Sansa had started a private wager, each picking key words and then getting a point each time it was mentioned by a complaining lord when the dragon queen was discussed in anger.  

“Sam, please help me get my chair back inside,” Bran asks before Sam even announces himself. “If Jon, won’t come to me, then I will go to him. He needs to know.”

Sam had tried earlier to talk to Bran, he tried to convince him to wait until the great battle with the undead was over. Sam danced around his suspicions of the feelings between Jon and Daenerys, he wasn’t even really sure if what he suspects is true. Bran listened quietly, only to say no after Sam was done speaking. That was that.

Finally arriving to the door of the small counsel room, Sam stops outside the door.

“Thank you, Sam. Please open the door, Jon is inside,” Bran says calmly. “It is time.”

+++o+ Chapter End +o+++

[katieskarlette]

In defense of Illidan/Maiev

If you’ve ever wondered why anyone would ship these two, or rejected the idea as ridiculous/gross/stupid/an abomination against nature/the reason aliens don’t visit us/a sign of the apocalypse... this post is for you!

I’m only one fan, I don’t claim to speak for other shippers, and I’m not trying to win any converts, but I wanted to clear up some misconceptions and questions I keep seeing about the Illidan Stormrage/Maiev Shadowsong ship.

TL;DR version:

They are both complex, gray characters with a lot in common.  The appeal of the ship comes from watching two very similar, strong, evenly-matched characters play off each other.  Their banter is snarky and fun, and there are intense emotions connecting them.

It is possible to ship them and keep them in-character.  Maiev is a resilient, no-nonsense character who has proven herself capable of matching Illidan in wits and tenacity.  Her awesomeness is not in any way diminished by being in a relationship.  They are both badasses separately, and they would continue to be just as badass if they were a couple.

Yes, they canonically hate each other.  The “enemies to lovers” trope is as old as time and remains popular for a reason.

It’s not the kind of relationship you want to model IRL, and that’s okay because it’s fiction.  Playing a Death Knight doesn’t mean I’m going to pick up grave robbing as a weekend hobby, either.

It’s totally understandable that the ship isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.  You don’t have to ship it.  Just please don’t be rude to people who do.

[Long version -- with funny pictures -- below!]

Argument #1:  “Shipping Illidan/Maiev trivializes her character, reducing her to arm candy or playing into the horrid trope that a woman who isn’t all sunshine and flowers 'just needs to get laid.'”

That’s not at all how I see their dynamic working.  Maiev has very valid reasons to be a fireball of fury and vengeance.  Her character is not, never has been, and never will be, anything resembling demure or passive.  There’s not a force in the cosmos--demon hunter dick included--that could change who she is at a fundamental level.  And who she is, is badass, self-sufficient, determined, brash, brave, stubborn, hot-headed, unyielding, unforgiving, clever, stoic, deadly, and awesome.

I can understand why people would dislike the idea of Illidan/Maiev if they’re imagining her turning into a lovesick teenager who doodles “Mrs. Maiev Stormrage” in her notebooks.  But that’s not even close to how I imagine the ship working.

Even putting aside the fact that night elves are a matriarchal society, it’s against Maiev’s very nature to stand back and defer to Illidan on anything.  The only reason she would ever voluntarily stand in his shadow would be to launch a sneak attack on him.  In fact, she is the dominant one who sees Illidan as her property. 

She is extremely possessive of him.  She was enraged when Tyrande released him from prison (and, yes, killed a number of her personnel along the way, which admittedly didn’t help her mood any.)  She refused to accept Malfurion’s decision to pardon Illidan and grant him exile instead of imprisonment.  She bristled at the thought of Akama or the players landing the killing blow on him.  She even stashed away his body in a vault for years so she could continue to be in control of him in some way.  Illidan is hers to do with what she sees fit.  His fate is in her hands alone, as far as she is concerned.

I would even argue that Maiev is the stronger person.  Where Illidan has stumbled and failed time and time again, she has proven herself consistently competent.  It’s not about her “needing a man” or some rubbish like that. It’s about the fact that she’s just about the only one who can see past Illidan’s grandstanding, stand up to him, and call him out for his reckless, morally questionable schemes.  Illidan could use a voice of reason standing by to tell him when he’s getting in over his head.

Wanting Maiev to pair up with someone as capable and badass as herself is a compliment to her character, yet I often see it framed as “shippers want her to be tamed/domesticated/broken by a man.”  Nothing could be further from the truth.

[Image sources:  Illidan fanart | Maiev fanart]

If they hooked up absolutely nothing would change except maybe slightly fewer death threats, and more sneaking off to work out some of that tension between the sheets.

Argument #2:  “Maiev is too good and righteous to be associated with a villain like Illidan.”  (Or, “Illidan is way too cool for a 'cr*zy b*tch' like her.”)  “All they have in common is being cooped up in the same prison for ten thousand years.”

There’s a tendency among people who dislike the ship to either gloss over or magnify one character’s flaws to make the other seem incompatible.  

This is nonsense.  They are both deeply flawed, conflicted, gray characters.  They can be bloodthirsty and ruthless, but neither is evil incarnate, either. 

The point is, they have a lot common.  So much so, in fact, that other characters remark on it in-universe (Malfurion in WCIII and Akama in the recent Illidan novel.)

The way they condemn each other for traits they actually share is delightfully ironic.  Their inability to see flaws in themselves while fixating on the same flaws in each other is what makes their interactions so fascinating.  

They both brag about their noble goals (saving the cosmos from the Legion, dispensing justice) while using morally questionable methods to achieve those ends.  

They both have delved into dark magic (he more than she, obviously, but in a Warcraft III optional mission Maiev did not hesitate to use a dark artifact called the Shadow Orb to help her inside the Tomb of Sargeras.  She also freed the player demon hunters from stasis when things got too hairy early in Legion and she thought they would be useful.)

They both make and break alliances for their own convenience without regard to any promises they might have made to cajole aid from others.  (Kael’thas got burned by both of them, poor guy.)

They have both outright murdered people who disagreed with them.  (In Warcraft III Maiev left Tyrande to either drown or be torn apart by undead.  In the novel Wolfheart, she stalked and murdered numerous night elf mages, and attempted to kill Malfurion, as well.)

Illidan and Maiev both operate under their own codes of morality.  You do not want to stand between them and their goals, because they are more than willing to incur collateral damage along the way.   You’re either for them or you’re against them, and if you’re against them you’re irrelevant at best and a liability at worst.

They both think that only they know what’s best.  Admitting they were wrong about something is not an option.

They also have similarly traumatic backstories.  When the Legion first invaded, they had their whole lives ahead of them.  Illidan was working his way up the ranks as a sorcerer, spurred on by the belief that his golden eyes were a sign of a great destiny.  Maiev was vying for leadership within the Sisterhood of Elune.  Neither came from illustrious backgrounds.  They were both fighting tooth and nail to make something of themselves, and were succeeding quite well until the demons showed up and ruined everything.  The bitterness of thwarted destiny and crushed dreams certainly gives them common ground.

And perhaps the most important thing they have in common:  they are both fixated on either other.  

[Above:  A coin you can fish up from the fountain in Northrend’s Dalaran.  Dang, Maiev, get a hobby.]

Their mutual obsession is one part Ahab and the Whale, one part Javert and Valjean, one part [insert superhero of your choice and their nemesis], and one part stalking-your-ex trope.  They can’t stop thinking about each other, talking about each other, talking to each other, goading each other, and getting under each other’s skin with practiced ease.  They know exactly what buttons to push to get a rise out of the other.

At the end of the boss fight in the Black Temple, they both admitted how closely linked their lives had become.

That is a powerful connection, whatever kind of relationship you think they have.

Argument #3.  “They hate each other.  Like, really, really hate each other.  To the point of actual homicide.”

Yes, and?  

“Enemies to lovers” is a popular, long-lasting trope for a reason.  Illidan/Maiev is actually listed as an example in two different places, but it is by far not an isolated case.  For many reasons too complex to address here, this type of narrative resonates with a large number of people.

Remember, this is fiction.  “I am entertained thinking about these characters in a romantic and/or sexual context” is literally all that is required to ship something.  It doesn’t have to be canon.  People ship characters who never even meet in canon.  At least I/M have a strong emotional connection to start with.

I also don’t see many shippers who seriously believe these two are romantically linked in canon.  (At most, maybe some kinky prison hatesex happened.)  Instead it’s often shipped in a tongue-in-cheek kind of way, and the WTFery is part of the charm.

I should note, however, that there were a couple quotes in the Illidan novel that pinged my shipping radar.  See here and here.

Argument #4:  “Illidan’s still in love with Tyrande,” and/or “It seemed like Maiev was in love with Naisha.”

Because people only fall in love once in their entire lives, right?  And it’s impossible to have feelings for two different people at the same time.  And you have to be deeply in love with someone to have sex with them.

Oh wait.

Argument #5:  “It’s abusive and unhealthy!”

No shit.  Again, it’s fiction.  I enjoy watching Godzilla movies but that doesn’t mean I want a kaiju to destroy my neighborhood IRL.

[Above, Maiev and Illidan demonstrate that they are, indeed, fictional characters.]

Argument #6:  “It’s creepy and wrong!”

That’s a perfectly valid opinion.  Thankfully, no one is forcing you to ship it.

[Above:  Not what is happening.]

It’s fine to dislike a ship.  Heaven knows I have NOTPs of my own.  Personally, I practice the Thumper doctrine (”If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all”) when it comes to shipping.  Everyone has different tastes, and as long as the characters are adults and no incest is involved, it’s not my place to tell other people what they can and can’t enjoy.  Fandom is supposed to be fun!

Speaking of which, I had a lot of fun writing and illustrating this post.  I hope it was entertaining, even if your opinions weren’t swayed.

If, after having read all this, you still think I/M is the worst ship ever, that’s totally okay!  Just move along and let us shippers have our fun.  Thanks!

[theressomethingaboutstephan-blog]

Put my phone on shuffle and these were the first 10 songs that played:-

1. Los Angeles by Blink 182

One of my favourites from their latest album California. This album in general I was very surprised that I liked so much as I didn’t enjoy their Neighbourhoods one back in 2011. It definitely bought me back to my teenage years where Blink was a massive part of my life (MP3 only had their music - I forgot how bad the memory on technology was!) I enjoyed the album so much that I had to buy the t shirt and also did an artistic picture on Instagram (headphones in a heart over the album!) Let’s see what this year brings as the band has hinted that new stuff is to come out this year. Here’s hoping! 

 2. One Dance by Drake

Ermmmm… Can i skip this one!? Not a fan of this one. Only have it on my phone due to the Now album it was on (too many to choose from to get it right - and Now 99 has just been announced too!) I am definitely the girl that if my life depended on naming a Drake song I would be in trouble! The title annoys me as well as there has been so many songs out recently with “dance” in the title and I always think it is one of them playing not this! Anyway that’s enough for this one - NEXT! 

 3. The Stage by Avenged Sevenfold

I don’t really listen to these any more (the boyfriend at the time got me into them as I got obsessed with “A Little Piece of Heaven”.) I clearly had to buy this album as it came out just as I was getting into them (must of been fate). I was disappointed with this album as a whole though I think as all the songs sound a bit samey and this song in particular is like 8.5 minutes of loads of snippets of different songs fused together. Although saying that, even though my music taste has changed over the past few months I was happy when this one came on. Not sure I will get in to them like I once did though. 

 4. Who Do You Think Of by M.O

Another song from one of the countless Now albums. When it first came out I did enjoy it and the radio was turned up loud when it came on in the car but now not so much! I don’t think I have heard anything else by them since this song, I might be completely wrong - Shows how much I pay attention to charts - Who was Christmas Number One!? Not really my type of song and I wouldn’t chose to listen to it I don’t think or rush our for the album but if I am getting ready for a night out I think it would be on that playlist to get you in the mood. 

 5. Tear In My Heart by Twenty One Pilots

Loved this song and the album! Another one where I bought the t shirt. Like many others I only listened to this band the one time when THAT song was played all the time. I also like this song due to the meaning behind it. I am more likely to enjoy a song if there is heartfelt meaning behind it - Which is partly why I like Pink’s latest album. We digress. I think my favourite bit about this song is the lyrics about pot holes and government and taxes. It’s all so true - again I like that in songs too. 

 6. Stay Away - Falling In Reverse

Not many seem to know this band or Ronnie Radke. I didn’t until one year I was in Dorset and my friend sent me “Bad Girls Club” and since then I have been hooked. I even requested that we go shopping on holiday just so I could buy the albums! I have also bought ALL the albums since and many of the t shirts. TO say this band is one of my favourites is a slight understatement. Just a shame that they can’t perform in the UK but I suppose if I ever do get to see them live, it will make the experience much more special. This song is a bit of a heavier one from their album “Just Like You” and I mainly listen to it when I am angry and need to have a vent out! More to follow from these guys. 

 7. This Is What You Came For by Calvin Harris

Surprise - another Now song. Just like What Do You Think Of; I wouldn’t run out and buy it nor would I chose to listen to it unless I was planning a night out. I suppose it is OK as chart music goes now a days though - I sound so old! I do have memories of me being out with friends and cringely dancing to this at the local bar. 

 8. Love On Me by Galantis and Hook N Sling

The fourth and final Now album song - Out of all the songs on my phone I don’t know it had to pick four of them as Now ones. Again like the above this is one that I would have as a “getting ready” playlist song. Although this one was played loud in the car when it came on the radio when it was first released. I must admit though that I didn’t even realise that I had it! Reminds me a but of Jackson 5 - That’s totally normal right!? 

 9. Game Over by Falling In Reverse

Yayy - My favourites again :) This song was on the very first album I brought by them. And this is definitely one of my favourite songs on the album, its not to everyone’s tastes though. Like most of the album it is a bit random - coin dings, Mario growing sound effects, etc. Did seem a bit like the band didn’t know what genre they wanted to go for so did all of them. This song was on repeat a lot. I was proud of myself when I could do the “up, up, down, down,  left, right, left, right, B, A, select, start at the same time as Ronnie. I even had my own dance routine to this song - If everyone was the same we would live in a very boring world. I think even with the crazy things in this song there are two bits that really stand out

“Stop Complaining and Start Changing It” - This sentence is something I definitely need to start working towards. What is the point in complaining about things that you can control

It’s got the video game aspect about it which always makes me want to get back in video games but being an adult and having no time makes that very difficult. 

 10. Glory by Hollywood Undead

Again, not a band that many people are aware of. I only found out about them because of their song Bullet - Such a happy tune with very depressing lyrics. Another band that I don’t really listen to any more because of reasons but when I do hear them I get a little happy. I was disappointing with their latest album though - Didn’t even buy it! I think I like this band because their genre is a bit random - Rappy Rock - But unlike Falling in Reverse most of their songs are like it. This was another favourite from their album though. 

 Anyways this is cutting into valuable video gaming time! If you haven’t heard any of the above songs go have a listen and tell me what you think of them!

S 

xx

[starringemiliaclarke]

Press: Game of Thrones: How They Make the World’s Most Popular Show

  TIME – The battle for Westeros may be won or lost on the back of a lime green mechanical bull.

  That’s what it looks like on a January Monday in Belfast, as Game of Thrones films its seventh season here. Certainly no one believes the dragons that have thrilled viewers of HBO’s hit series exist in any real sense. And yet it’s still somewhat surprising to see the British actor Emilia Clarke, who plays exiled queen Daenerys, straddling the “buck” on a soundstage at Titanic Studios, a film complex named after this city’s other famously massive export.

  The machine under Clarke looks like a big pommel horse and moves in sync with a computer animation of what will become a dragon. Clarke doesn’t talk much between takes. Over and over, a wind gun blasts her with just enough force to make me worry about the integrity of her ash blond wig. (Its particular color is the result of 2½ months’ worth of testing and seven prototypes, according to the show’s hair designer.) Over and over, Clarke stares down at a masking-tape mark on the floor the instant episode director Alan Taylor shouts, “Now!” Nearby, several visual-effects supervisors watch on monitors.

  Clarke and I talk in her trailer before she heads to the soundstage, at the beginning of what is to be a long week inhabiting a now iconic character. Behind the scenes it’s more toil than triumph, though. The show’s first season ended with Daenerys’ hatching three baby dragons, each the size of a Pomeranian. They’ve since grown to the size of a 747. “I’m 5-ft.-nothing, I’m a little girl,” she says. “They’re like, ‘Emilia, climb those stairs, get on that huge thing, we’ll harness you in, and then you’ll go crazy.’ And you’re like, ‘Hey, everybody! Now who’s shorty?!’”

  She has reason to feel powerful. On July 16, Clarke and the rest of the cast will begin bringing Thrones in for a landing with the first of its final 13 episodes (seven to air this summer, six to come later). Thrones, a scrappy upstart launched by two TV novices in 2011, will finish its run as the biggest and most popular show in the world. An average of more than 23 million Americans watched each episode last season when platforms like streaming and video on demand are accounted for. And since it’s the most pirated show ever, millions more watch it in ways unaccounted for. Thrones, which holds the record for most Emmys ever won by a prime-time series, airs in more than 170 countries. It’s the farthest-reaching show out there—not to mention the most obsessed-about.

  People talk about living in a golden age of TV ushered in by hit dramas like The Sopranos, Mad Men and Breaking Bad. All had precisely honed insights about the nature of humanity and of evil that remade expectations of what TV could do. But that period ended around the time Breaking Bad went off the air in 2013. We’re in what came next: an unprecedented glut of programming, with streaming services like Netflix, Amazon and Hulu jumping into an ever-more-crowded fray. Now, there’s a prestige show for every conceivable viewer, which means smaller audiences and fewer truly original stories.

  Except for Thrones, which merges the psychological complexity of the best TV with old-school Hollywood grandeur. You liked shows with one anti­hero? Well, Thrones has five Tony Sopranos building their empires on blood, five Walter Whites discovering just how far they’ll go to win, five Don Drapers unapologetic in their narcissism. Oh, and they’re all living out their drama against the most breathtaking vistas not of this world.

  The phenomenon is fueled by a massive worldwide apparatus that, in a typical 10-episode season, generates the equivalent of five big-budget, feature-length movies. Even as the series has grown in every conceivable way over the years—it shoots around the globe; each episode now boasts a budget of at least $10 million—it remains animated by one simple question: Who will win the game in the end? And if Thrones has taught us anything, it’s that every reign has to end sometime.

  1. the fiction

  It all started with a book. In 1996, George R.R. Martin published A Game of Thrones, the first novel in his A Song of Ice and Fire series. (Back then, he conceived of it as a trilogy. Today, five of the planned seven volumes have been published.) As a writer for shows like CBS’s The Twilight Zone and Beauty and the Beast in the late ’80s, Martin had been frustrated by the limits of TV. He decided that turning to prose meant writing something “as big as my imagination.” Martin recalls telling himself, “I’m going to have all the characters I want, and gigantic castles, and dragons, and dire wolves, and hundreds of years of history, and a really complex plot. And it’s fine because it’s a book. It’s essentially unfilmable.”

  The books became a hit, especially after 1999’s A Clash of Kings and A Storm of Swords a year later. Martin, who writes from his home in Santa Fe, N.M., was compared to The Lord of the Rings author J.R.R. Tolkien. Like Tolkien’s Middle-earth, Martin’s Westeros is a land with a distinctive set of rules. First, magic is real. Second, winter is coming. Seasons can last for years at a time, and as the series begins, a long summer is ending. Third, no one is safe. New religions are in conflict with the old, rival houses have designs on the capital’s Iron Throne, and an undead army is pushing against the boundary of civilization, known as the Wall.

  Thrones’ vast number of clans includes the wealthy and louche Lannisters, including incestuous twins Cersei and Jaime. She is the queen by marriage; he helped ensure her ascendancy through violence. Their brother Tyrion, an “imp” of short stature, is perhaps the most astute student of power. Then there are the Starks, led by duty-bound Ned. His children Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon and “bastard” Jon Snow will be scattered throughout the realm’s Seven Kingdoms. Daenerys is a Targaryen, an overthrown family that also—surprise—has a claim to the throne. Soon enough, Thrones devolves into an all-out melee that makes the Wars of the Roses look like Family Feud.

  The phenomenon is fueled by a massive worldwide apparatus that, in a typical 10-episode season, generates the equivalent of five big-budget, feature-length movies. Even as the series has grown in every conceivable way over the years—it shoots around the globe; each episode now boasts a budget of at least $10 million—it remains animated by one simple question: Who will win the game in the end? And if Thrones has taught us anything, it’s that every reign has to end sometime.

    In the wake of director Peter Jackson’s early-2000s film trilogy of Tolkien’s masterpiece, Martin was courted by producers to turn his books into “the next Lord of the Rings franchise.” But the Thrones story was too big, and would-be collaborators suggested cutting it to focus solely on Daenerys or Snow, for instance. Martin turned them all down. His story’s expansiveness was the point.

  Two middleweight novelists, David Benioff and D.B. Weiss, had come to a similar conclusion and obtained Martin’s blessing at what the author calls “that famous lunch that turned into a dinner, because we were there for four or five hours” in 2006. The two writers thought Thrones could only be made as a premium-cable drama, and they walked into HBO’s office with an ambitious pitch to do so that year. “They were talking about this series of books I’d never heard of,” says Carolyn Strauss, head of HBO’s entertainment division at the time. “[I was] somebody who looked around the theater in Lord of the Rings, at all of those rapt faces, and I am just not on this particular ferry … I thought, This sounds interesting. Who knows? It could be a big show.”

  HBO bought the idea and handed the reins to Benioff and Weiss, making them showrunners who’d never run a show before. Benioff was best known for having adapted his novel The 25th Hour into a screenplay directed by Spike Lee. Weiss had a novel to his credit too. The two had met in a literature program in Dublin in 1995 and later reconnected in the States. “I decided I wanted to write a screenplay,” Benioff told Vanity Fair in 2014. “I’d never written a script before, and I didn’t know how to do it, so I asked [Weiss] if he would write one with me, because he had written a bunch already.” It never got made.

  The Thrones pilot, shot in 2009, got off to a rocky start. Benioff and Weiss misjudged how much planning it would take to bring Martin’s fantasy to life. To portray a White Walker—mystic creatures from the North—they simply stuck an actor in a green-screen getup and hoped to figure it out later. “You can maybe do that if you’re making Avatar,” says Weiss. “But we need to know what the creatures look like before we turn on the camera.” They also had trouble portraying Martin’s nuanced characters. “Our friends—really smart, savvy writers—didn’t [realize] Jaime and Cersei were brother and sister,” says Benioff of the ill-fated first cut. Ultimately, they reshot the pilot.

  When Benioff and Weiss look back at that first season, they see plenty to nitpick. Their fealty to Martin’s text, for example, made Peter Dinklage’s Tyrion “Eminem blond,” per Benioff. (His hair was later darkened.) Still, the elements that have made the show a monster success were there—and audiences (3 million for Thrones’ first season finale) picked up on them. Arguably the most ground­breaking element was a willingness to ruthlessly murder its stars. Ned Stark, the moral center of Season 1, portrayed by the show’s then most famous cast member (Sean Bean, who starred in The Lord of the Rings), is shockingly beheaded in the second-to-last episode. By the third season’s “Red Wedding,” a far more gruesome culling, the show had accrued enough fans to send the Internet into full on freak-out mode.

  Thrones had by then become the pacesetter for all of TV in its willingness to forgo a simple happy ending in favor of delivering pleasure through brutality. Even if you don’t watch, Thrones’ characters and catchphrases have permeated the culture (the apparent death of Snow was an international trending topic all summer in 2015). Saturday Night Live, The Simpsons and The Tonight Show have lampooned the show. And the recent South Korean presidential election was called on a national news network with depictions of the candidates duking it out for control of the Iron Throne.

  2. the production

  Wandering around the Belfast set, the scope and the orderliness of the enterprise is staggering. The wights, zombie-like creatures with spookily pale faces and dressed in ragged furs, form a tidy line as they wait to grab breakfast burritos. Outside the stage door, a few smoke cigarettes, careful not to ash on their worn-in tunics. “At first we had a season with one big event, then we had a season with two big events, now we have a season where every episode is a big event,” says Joe Bauer, the show’s VFX supervisor. Bauer and VFX producer Steve Kullback oversee a group of 14 FX shops from New Zealand to Germany that work on the show almost continuously.

  One of those big events this season is a battle whose sheer scope, even before being cut together with the show’s typical brio, dazzled me. In order to get on set, I agreed not to divulge the players or what’s at stake. (Thrones has been promising this clash all along, and when the time comes, the Internet will melt.) It will be all the more impressive knowing that the cast and crew were shot through with a frigid North Atlantic wind that whipped everyone during filming and sent them all flying to the coffee cart during resets. (The cold, a prosthetic artist tells me, is at least good for keeping the makeup on.)

  The setting is as grand as the action. The battle was filmed in what was once a Belfast quarry, drained, flattened out with 11,000 square meters of concrete and painted over with a camouflage effect—all of which took six months and required special ecological surveys. This kind of mountain moving, or leveling, is par for the course for Thrones.

  Each season starts with producers Christopher Newman and Bernadette Caulfield circulating a plot outline on a color-coded spreadsheet, dictating what will be shot by the show’s two simultaneous camera units, which can splinter into as many as four. It’s perpetually subject to change, given the complications of a television show this ambitious—over seven seasons they’ve shot in Croatia, Spain, Iceland, Malta, Morocco and Canada as well as locations around Northern Ireland. While I’m in Belfast, my plan to watch Jon Snow in action is canceled because of inclement weather (that same wind) that makes filming from a drone hazardous. At this point, Caulfield will grab onto any small comfort. “Now the dragon doesn’t get any bigger,” she says, “so we know that much.”

  Another breakdown goes out to department heads, and a massive global triage begins. Costumer Michele Clapton, for example, begins figuring out if she’ll have to dress any new characters or armies and then sets out on the most complex work. “I know that Daenerys’ dresses will take the longest,” she says. Each look, no matter the character, may take as many as four craftspeople to bead, stitch and—if there’s meant to be wear and tear—break down. Deborah Riley, the production designer, begins looking for references to new locations in the outline. Tommy Dunne, the weapons master, starts forging gear for the season’s big battles. “My big thing is the numbers,” he says. “I hope they won’t frighten me.” He made 200 shields and 250 spears for last season’s epic Battle of the Bastards.

  Benioff’s and Weiss’s jobs amount to maintaining constant conversation with numerous producers. The pair are usually in Belfast for about six months a year. Wherever in the world they happen to be, they get daily video from the shoots and field an endless stream of emails from staff on location. During my visit, wolves described in the script as “skinny and mangy” showed up to the shoot looking fluffy and lustrous. Around the world, new message notifications lit up smartphone screens.

  When Benioff and Weiss aren’t shooting, they’re writing. And when they aren’t shooting or writing—which happens rarely—they’re promoting. The two make a complementary pair. Benioff, who wears his hair in a Morrissey quiff, is the more sardonic one. Weiss, with silver rings in his ears, is nerdier and given to hyperbole. They say they’re still having fun making Thrones, despite the stakes, and still regularly find themselves surprised by its scale. Weiss recalls seeing the buck Clarke rides to simulate Daenerys’ dragons for the first time: “We knew it would be a mechanical bull. We didn’t know it would be 40 ft. in the air and six degrees of motion with cameras that swirl.” Says Benioff: “It’s like the thing NASA built to train the astronauts.”

  Despite nonstop production, Weiss says, “There’s still a kid-in-a-candy-shop feel. You’re going to look at the armor, crazy-amazing dresses—gowns Michele is making—then you’re going to look at the swords, then watch pre-vis cartoons of the scenes that will be shot and you’re weighing in on shot selection. Every one of these things is something we’ve been fascinated with in our own way since we were kids.”

  “Especially dresses,” cracks Benioff. Weiss adds, “Especially the gowns.”

  3. the players

  The first few seasons’ worth of swordplay and gowns turned the show’s cast into recognizable stars. But it’s the complexity of their characters, revealed over time, that made them into icons. “My friends always say to me, ‘It’s like you’re two different people. I see articles about you in BuzzFeed’—but then they see my Facebook posts,” says Maisie Williams, who plays the tomboy turned angel of vengeance Arya Stark. Williams was two days past her 14th birthday when the show debuted. There’s TV-star famous, after all, and then there’s some-percentage-of-23-million-people-has-been-actively-rooting-for-you-to-kill-off-your-co-stars-for-six-years famous.

  Thrones’ story doesn’t ask its actors to break bad or good, and viewers stay tuned in large part because of the characters’ moral mutability. Consider Cersei, played by Lena Headey, who is either a monster or a victim. The character has become more popular with fans even as she’s wrought greater carnage, including blowing up a building full of people last season. “At the beginning, people were like, ‘Oh my God, you’re such a bitch!’” she says. “What’s moving is that people love her now and want to be on her team.” That Headey, a Brit, uses an exaggerated American accent as she delivers the harsher interpretation of her work is revealing of nothing, or a lot.

  She’s thought through every element of her character, though, including the incestuous relationship with Jaime that provided the show its first narrative jolt. “I love to talk about all of it,” she says, citing her frequent emails to Benioff and Weiss. “Cersei’s always wanted to be him. Therefore, for her, that relationship is completion. There’s been an envy, because he was born with privilege just for being a man. I think their love was built on respect.”

  Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, the Danish actor who plays Jaime, is a bit less excited to discuss the subject. “I’ve never really gone too deep into the whole sister-brother thing because I can’t use that information. I have to look at her as the woman he loves and desires. Lena’s a very good actress, and that’s kind of what carries the whole thing.” He adds, “I have two older sisters. I do not want to go there. It’s just too weird.”

  Even a character like Jon Snow, as close to a pure hero as possible as Season 7 begins, has outgrown the box he originally came in. Snow, an illegitimate child never embraced by his father’s wife, is a James Dean daydream of Sir Walter Scott. “I made mistakes and felt that he wasn’t interesting enough,” says Kit Harington of the way he’s played Snow. We’re in a Belfast hotel bar, and Harington is squeezing in a coffee before he makes an evening showing of Manchester by the Sea. “That sounds weird, but I’ve never been quite content with him. Maybe that’s what makes him him. That angst.” His character has been slowly absorbing lessons about duty and power—and “this year there is this huge seismic shift where all of what he’s learned over the years, suddenly …” Harington trails off. “He’s still the same Jon, but he grows up.”

  Dinklage, too, found in Tyrion a character who surpassed his expectations. The actor says he’d never read fantasy beyond The Lord of the Rings. “That’s the part of the bookstore I don’t really gravitate toward,” he says. “This was the first time in this genre that somebody my size was an actually multidimensional being, flesh and blood without the really long beard, without the pointy shoes, without the asexuality.”

  Thrones catapulted Dinklage, the only American in the main cast, from a well-regarded film and theater actor to among the most-recognized actors on earth in part because the asexuality is quite absent. Tyrion thirsts for wine, sex and, crucially, love and respect. As the offspring of a wealthy and powerful family, the first two are easy to come by. The latter not so much. “He covers it up with alcohol, he covers it up with humor, he does his best to maintain a modicum of sanity and he perseveres,” says Dinklage. “He’s still alive. Anyone who’s still alive on our show is pretty smart.”

  Indeed, with just 13 episodes left, everything is possible—alliance, demise or coronation. “Every season I go to the last page of the last episode and go backward,” says Dinklage. “I don’t do that with books, but I can’t crack open page one of Episode 1 not knowing if I’m dead or not.”

  4. the drama

  The size of Thrones’ controversies have, at times, been as large as its following. Its reliance on female nudity, especially Daenerys’, was an early flash point. “I don’t have any qualms saying to anyone it was not the most enjoyable experience. How could it be?” says Clarke. “I don’t know how many actresses enjoy doing that part of it.” That aspect of the role has faded as Daenerys found paths to power beyond her sexuality. This evolution from a passive naïf into a holy terror who rules by the fealty of her subjects is what has earned Daenerys, according to Clarke, the audience’s loyalty. “People wouldn’t give two sh-ts about Daenerys if you didn’t see her suffer,” she says.

  More controversial still has been the prevalence of sexual violence. Many of the major female characters have been assaulted onscreen. In a 2015 sequence, Sansa, the Stark daughter played by Sophie Turner, was raped by her husband. According to the logic of the show, the plot gave her character a reason to seek revenge and power of her own. It nonetheless generated substantial blowback online and clearly turned some fans away from the series for good. “This was the trending topic on Twitter, and it makes you wonder, when it happens in real life, why isn’t it a trending topic every time?” says Turner, who is 21. “This was a fictional character, and I got to walk away from it unscathed … Let’s take that discussion and that dialogue and use it to help people who are going through that in their everyday lives. Stop making it such a taboo, and make it a discussion.”

  Benioff and Weiss claim to have seen no other possible outcome for a character stranded in a marriage to a psychopath, in a skewed version of feudal society. “It might not be our world,” says Benioff, “but it’s still the same basic power dynamic between men and women in this medieval world. This is what we believed was going to happen.” Adds Weiss: “We talked about, is there any other way she could possibly avoid this fate that doesn’t seem fake, where she uses her pluck to save herself at the last? There was no version of that that didn’t seem completely horrible.”

  Even if Benioff and Weiss don’t always admit it, the show has changed. Scenes in which exposition is delivered in one brothel or another, for example, have been pared back. It’s at moments like these that the success of Thrones seems a precariously struck balance, thriving on a willingness to shock but always risking going too far.

  5. the end of the end

  Benioff and Weiss claim to have sworn off reading commentary about the show, good or bad. When I visit them in Los Angeles in March, they’re writing the next and final season. I peek into a fridge in a lounge area in their offices, a room dominated by a Thrones-branded pinball machine Weiss proudly points out, to find three cases of beer with Westeros-themed labels, low-calorie ranch dressing and yellow mustard. At this point, they have full outlines of the final six episodes. In fact, they’ve been working on the very last episode, possibly the most anticipated finale since Hawkeye left Korea. “We know what happens in each scene,” says Weiss.

  The fact that they know is remarkable considering the show will reach its conclusion long before the books. The last new Thrones novel came out in 2011, the year the show began. The author describes his next installment, the sixth of seven, as “massively late.” “The journey is an adventure,” says Martin, who, at 68, has fought criticism that he won’t finish the books. “There’s always that process of discovery for me.” But with young, and rapidly maturing, actors under contract and a community of artisans awaiting marching orders in Belfast, the show can’t wait.

  Benioff and Weiss always knew this would happen. So they met with the novelist in 2013, between Seasons 2 and 3, to sketch out what Martin calls “the ultimate developments” after the books and show diverge. The upshot, they say, is that the two can co­exist. “Certain things that we learned from George way back then are going to happen on the show, but certain things won’t,” says Benioff. “And there’s certain things where George didn’t know what was going to happen, so we’re going to find them out for the first time too.”

  In preparation for Season 7, Benioff and Weiss have gotten more possessive. That has further fueled fans’ curiosity even as it has created security challenges. In the run-up to Season 6, paparazzi shots of Harington—and his distinctive in-character hairdo—in Belfast tipped the Internet off that Jon Snow wasn’t, in fact, as dead as he’d seemed the season before. “Look at how difficult it is to protect information in this age,” says Benioff. “The CIA can’t do it. The NSA can’t do it. What chance do we have?”

  It’s also changed the on-set dynamic. Coster-Waldau says Benioff and Weiss have “become much more protective over the story and script. I think they feel this is truly theirs now, and it’s not to be tampered with. I’ve just sensed this last season that this is their baby: ‘Just say the words as they’re written, and shut up.’”

  Then there’s the end of the end, the finale likely to air next year or the year after. Benioff and Weiss are not writing the Thrones spin-off projects HBO revealed this year that could explore other parts of Westerosi history—some, all or none of which may end up on air. In the meantime, they claim not to be worrying about the public’s reaction to their ending. (Benioff says that when it comes to endgame stress, “medication helps.”) Weiss says, “I’m not saying we don’t think about it.” He pauses. “The best way to go about it is to focus on what’s on the desk in front of you, or what sword is being put in front of you, or the fight that is being choreographed in front of you.”

  What’s currently before them seems like plenty. When I first met Clarke in Belfast, she was shooting on the back of a dragon. When I leave a week later, she’s still at it. “Thirty seconds of screen time and she’s been here for 16 days,” the episode’s director, Taylor, remarks at one point. Later on, I’d remember this moment of exhaustion when Weiss described seeing the buck for the first time. He went on to add, “It probably feels a bit less amazing to Emilia, who sits on it for eight hours a day, six weeks in a row, getting blasted with water and fake snow and whatever else they decide to chuck at her through the fans.” The table with the espresso machine—just beyond Clarke’s line of sight—is well trafficked.

  Clarke doesn’t seem bothered, though, smiling and chatting with the crew from atop the buck. As the state-of-the-art hydraulics move her into position, her posture shifts from millennial slump to ramrod straight. In an instant, she converts herself into the ruler of the fictional space around her. On cue, she looks over her shoulder with a face of marble. She casts into an imagined world some emotion known only to her. She’s gazing into a future that, in the flickering moments that the story remains a secret, only she can see.

    Press: Game of Thrones: How They Make the World’s Most Popular Show was originally published on Enchanting Emilia Clarke