#i do get enormous crying fits if i see it mentioned in movies or whatever the fuck 😭😭😭 profound effect

[ladymortimer]

I think not interacting with self deprecating humour has improved my life immensely

[the-moon-prince]

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter X

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

I’m sorry for the delay! Thank you so much for your patience and support! I’m here with the new chapter! I jope you will enjoy.

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story.  (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter III) (Chapter IV ) (Chapter V) (Chapter VI) (Chapter VII)(Chapter VIII)(Chapter IX) (Chapter XI coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 652

TW: Mentions of Hospital ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The swings.

(Y/n) loved swings. So charming and amusing.

Even if they couldn't play like the other children, they could always go to the swings. Waving forward and then backward. Heights frightened them and even now terrified them. But with the swings, it was not like that. They felt brave and free. They had visited many. However, they remembered one in particular: the one that his grandfather gave them. The one in the garden of the house where they grew. When they swung, they could see the clouds and the sky. Knowing that their family saw the same azure as they did. They remembered the wildflowers that flourished at the end of the tubes that held it. They had quite a few memories of that swing. That also took place in that location. Their mami's face of horror at seeing them on the ground coughing blood tormented them for a while.

They were back in the hospital. They knew that they would return.  The lonely hours where no visits were allowed seemed long, even reading.

The moments when they were able to be with their grandparents were joyous. Perpetually trying to smile so they wouldn't worry about them.

"(Y/n)!"- a voice cried their name.

They lifted as fast as they could, responding as well as the tubes in their throats allowed.

"Julian!"- They felt so relieved to see him. Each night they spent awake, believing that they would never see him again. The boy, despite being simply 2 years older, was much taller than them. He ran to them sobbing and held them as if they were going to vaporize.

Because that's what they believed.

"(Y/n)!"-he sobbed their name again-"I'm so sorry; I'm so sorry; I shouldn't have left you alone that day. Not because you can't play ball with me, I want you to leave me."-his grip tightened.

They were weak, and their arms were shaking. Yet, that did not prevent them from returning the hug with all the strength that their small body had.

"It doesn't matter anymore. I'm not upset right now."- they consoled. 

If they were in his village, the two of them would look more like animals. Julian's tail would surely shake restlessly, and (Y/n) would rub their cheeks into him. They would be cat and dog, but they loved each other so much. Regularly playing clapping games, going for walks, reading together, or playing video games together. It's not like (Y/n) had someone else. From an early age, they had had difficulties relating to other cubs, including adults. 

"Julian, watch out for running! They are going to scold us!"- a sweet voice called. Immediately two elders entered, their hands full of bags and gifts.

"Mami, Papi! Hi!"-they greeted, already smiling.

It was an afternoon full of laughter, cake, sweets, and gifts. They played cards and chess - matches (Y/n) won- watched movies, read new books, and hugged stuffed animals. Except it was not (Y/n)'s birthday. 

Only visiting hours end sooner or later. And their company had to withdraw. The only difference was that the man stayed a while longer. Opposing hospital rules, which, as a doctor, he had never done previously. (Y/n) stared at him for a moment, not delivering eye contact, until they looked up.

"Papi, I'm going to die?"-they were looking directly in his eyes, searching for a response. 

They had a particular method of expressing their feelings, but that didn't mean they did not feel-they possibly felt with more intensity than the majority. Most would expect a kid their age to cry in that situation, but they did not cry. They were smiling.

"(Y/n)..."-the old man whispered and sat near them. He hadn't the courage to say it.

"I can't tell you that. However, if I can tell you one thing."-he took out a small case from the pocket of his trousers. He held their hand and placed the present in their palm-"Whatever happens, I'll be with you. Wherever you go, you will not be alone. And if so, you have nothing to fear."

When they parted the lid of the box, in its inside covered in red velvet, laid a pair of earrings. They were drop-shaped pearl pendants. A peculiar gift for a kid their age. Most would give jewelry like this to someone older.

"My grandfather gave them to my mother, she gave them to me, and today I give them to you."-he continued-"When you have them on, I will accompany you wherever you go. Since our auras live in flowers, a part of mine lives in those earrings. I'll be reminding you who you are and where you come from. So don't forget that you have a home to go to. Don't be afraid (Y/n)..."

The room's door was locked, and the curtains were down. The old man did not own the same appearance as moments ago; he resembled a massive wolf. Intense but soft fur and a spot on the right ear. He knelt to be at the child's height. They looked into each other's eyes, which some say are the door to the soul, for a long time. Without vociferating a word.

"I love you (Y/n)."-he wept, holding his tears.

The mentioned one offered him a smile.

"I love you, Papi."-they mumbled. They leaned forward to hug him, taking the opportunity to snuggle in the older's neck fluff.-"But I am not afraid. Not at all."

The man hugged them back. His paws were so big that they would definitely fit them into just one of them.

After that, he left, promising that they would return the next day.

What they told was a lie, they were afraid. They sobbed enormously that night, except they didn't want their family to see them that way. 

~

Kurapika opened one of his drowsy eyes, not feeling the embrace anymore. For a moment he was scared of being alone, that it was all a dream. Though (Y/n) was right next to him. Sitting on the mattress, their backs on the bed frame. They were not sleeping, just staring at the emptiness.

"(Y/n)?"-he groaned, the voice hoarse from sleep.

The appointed blink, as if dispersing the spirits that had them trapped.

They turned their heads to detect where the voice was originating from.

"Kurapika?"-they whispered, the speech clear.-"My apologies, did I wake you?"

"No. Rather, what are you doing awake?"-he was already awaiting the worst.

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. Don't trouble yourself,  please."-they quietly answers with a smile. 

How could they request him not worry for them? You can't stop caring about what you love. 

"What hour is it?"- he inquired, a bit bothered about the fatigue they might receive in the morning. At least it was Sunday, meaning neither of them had to labor. They would have the possibility of recovering hours of rest if they required it.

After a few seconds of silence, they answered-"4:37."

Kurapika knew the hard nights when attaining rest in a lonely bed seemed tedious. The difference is that they were not abandoned.  He was there for them and wasn't intending on leaving anywhere anytime shortly.

At least they hadn't had a nightmare, if so they would have told him so, right?

He lifted the blankets as a symbol for them to lie down next to him over. He didn't know if they would. Simply with them reclined anew, he would be satisfied. They paid obeisance to him, approaching and lying down nearby him. They came face to face. Kurapika enveloped his arm over their body, they did not hug him back. Yet, they pressed their forehead on his chest.

~

The morning was peaceful and pleasant. Kurapika and (Y/n) were sipping coffee and eating leftover cake from the night earlier in the salon. A disk was playing on the record player. The melody was smooth, the saxophone and the lyrics combined quite well. The silence among the two was charming. From time to time, they were silent, in the same room, just savoring the existence of the separate person. Not because they had nothing to tell. Rather, it was a matter of having their own spaces without isolating themselves.

Except, the silence always finished up breaking.

"I suggest we watch a film tonight. Today you can choose it if you'd like."- Kurapika enunciated, happy to spend quiet time with his lover. Having relaxing nights was rare.

"I...I deem the most convenient thing is for you to come home."-they hesitated, to resume right away-"Not that I don't want to be with you. I'm pretty occupied tonight, and I don't wish for you to miss a night of rest."

The answer surprised him at first.

"Are you going to cover someone in the unit anew?"-he questioned fully of irritant. They were profiteers with (Y/n). His companions rested on their professional integrity and goodness. Kurapika got tired of seeing his lover could stay awake nights in a row to cover night shifts or take care of delegated documents. He knew they would not leave a patient to their own fate; although he foresaw to have a discussion concerning it with them.

"No, not this time."-(Y/n) disclosed. If it was simple paperwork, they did it often with him, as long as he did not interrupt them.

"What will you do?"-he scoffed this time, no commitment had been mentioned to him. Although they had a poor mania to omit some points, not maliciously; globally they were details. That was not a detail.

They resembled uncomfortable. Kurapika already recognized their body language, and despite their perpetual smile, he could read them.

Their gaze was downcast, shoulders hunched, and they played with the edges of their sweater sleeves.

"I'm going to reclaim someone from my clan..."-they wept after a moment of the uncertain reserve.

From the beginning, (Y/n) had helped him regain scarlet eyes. Getting information and accompanying him. Nonetheless, they hadn't mentioned anything about getting their clan back. No contact, no remains, no meeting. Until today. Why? They were trying to preserve him? Did they want to avoid him at a distressing moment? Kurapika believed that retaining such secrets had ended since their discussion. That stubborn part of them that dedicated obstinately to secrecy frustrated him.

"(Y/n)."-he scolded once more.

They narrowed more as if craving to hide from his gaze. He wasn't mad at them. But it frustrated him that he was powerless to help them.

"(Y/n), I'm not angry."-his tone softened-"I desire to accompany you."

Their posture decompressed, though they started to fidget more.

"It will be a rather longspun night. It will be tiresome."-they maintained.

"I do not tend."- He would stand firm with this.-"I am here to assist you."

They suspired-"Thank you, Kurapika."-They had communication difficulties to solve, and weren't oblivious. 

"What time will it occur, where and with whom?"-he hinted, making sure to know the circumstances.

"The event will be held with a private collector. At his residence at 8:40 pm."-they specified-"Only that there is a relevant detail."-they added with a cautioned voice.-"The collector is another hunter."

The collector is another hunter. Not for lack of ability, but for the votes that restrained their children. It would be necessary to rely upon the strategy to evade some violent confrontation. On top of that, their identities could be in check.

"As it is clearly practically impossible to hide the fact that I am a hunter, I presented myself as a mere fellow hunter fond of oddities."-as suspected they already had a method.

"Regarding your company, we can pivot on my weak appearance."-they continued with the strategy-" He will never believe that a hunter would require a bodyguard, but an assistant is plausible. He told me that the "merchandise"- saying that last word with disgust-"will be weighty."

"I perceive that you had the strategy ready. That's why I don't worry. I'll stick with it."-regarding the tactical abilities of (Y/n), Kurapika did not waver. Their experience was remarkable.-"Still, you must tell me these genera of things."

"Reasonable, my apologies."-they bawled. 

Kurapika wasn't going to reprimand them. He was aware that they were not doing it maliciously, the communication obstacles were rather difficulties. He could never get mad at them for having some kind of challenge. 

~

The place concluded up being in an upper-class suburb of YorkNew. For the other hunter to live there, it had to be wealthy. And to be wealthy he had to be skillful. For this occasion, (Y/n) did not use its own vehicle. They rented a truck with a roomy hood. Once the house was spotted, they parked the truck far enough away for the details not to be well distinguished -being black it was conveniently camouflaged with the darkness of the night-but close sufficient to get there quick running. 

Before going down, (Y/n) was silent for a short moment. Without moving from the driver's seat. Their pupils would look very dilated if it weren't for the contacts they were wearing. They both wore, so as not to give any kind of clue about their origins. Followed by that silence, they closed their eyes and pronounced a rhyme while poking their chests with two fingers, in a language that Kurapika did not understand. A mantra for good luck, perhaps.

There was no security of any kind seen from the facade. They walked to the front door, which was quite high and made of black wood. Shortly after the bell rang, the door opened. Revealing a man, about 31 years old, but he looked younger. It couldn't be said that he had good taste in dressing, but the clothes they wore were of great quality. His hair was somewhat lengthy yet shorter than Kurapika's and ash-black in color. His aura felt dense and heavy. It was easily deduced that he had no intention of hiding it.

The man, like his aura, was imposing. He made them notice it as if testing their courage and challenging them to enter. Almost as if they were unworthy. 

"I presume you are (Y/n)."-he said, waiting. His voice was considerably gruff. The kind of speech that tilts in your eardrums.

"Precisely, a pleasure."-(Y/n) greeted, pulling their hunter license out of their wallet and showing it.

"Good, and he?"-the man pointed at Kurapika.

"Kurapika is here to assist me. I remember listening to you specify that the object was going to be substantial."-they reported hurriedly. Their tone of speech did not denote fear or insecurity. They weren't happy with the rudeness of pointing their lover

"I see. To be a hunter you look frail."-he expressed-"Come in, come in." The walls of the house were wide and the ceiling high. The interior was mostly light gray. The decor had a pretentious modernist tendency. A large number of objects stood out. Of all kinds, but all rare and peculiar. Shelves placed well in sight, figures, frames, vanities. They followed the man through corridors to a small bar, its wall full of bizarre exoticisms.

 If it weren't for the assiduousness they were displayed in, one would say that the person was an accumulator. The idea that the person had become a hunter just to gain privileges and the ability to purchase ostentatious exclusive treasures was more and more evident.

"Let's sit down and have a drink."-the man bossed. 

"Oh, don't bother. We-"-they got interrupted by the man. It was clear he was vulgar despite his money. 

"I don't bother. I want to make sure that I'm not selling one of my prized items to anyone."

[elatedmarvel]

After All This Time, You and I (1/4)

Summary: Bucky has known you your entire life. Snapshots through the years.

Word Count:  1948

AN: Hello! Long time no see! This is for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​‘s Follower Celebration! Congrats to you Star, you deserve every single one!! My prompt was Best Friend’s Sibling. This was originally going to be a long oneshot, but I felt like the flow was better to separate it into a two-shot. Title is from Mary’s Song by Taylor Swift for obvious reasons. Thank you for hosting this awesome writing challenge Star! I had so much fun writing this!

Warnings: tiny mention of violence, swear words

“The building burning up Buck! You gotta get out of here!” Steve shouts staring down his best friend from across the bridge.

“No! Not without you!” comes Bucky’s fierce reply. His eyes scan over the wreck, trying to find something to save Stevie. 

Steve takes a deep breath and prays that the crumbling bridge will hold a little longer, and he charges across the chasm. He almost makes it to the other side when his foot gets caught on a pillow. Tumbling over, he avoids landing on Bucky, but knocks over the unsuspecting person on his right. 

You land with a thud on your hands and knees, and quickly scramble to look at your right knee. There’s a moment of silence, and the boys hold their breath waiting for the inevitable wail. 

“I’m sorry!” Steve cries before wrapping his arms around you in a clumsy hug. He really didn’t see you playing next to him, it was an accident! Your bottom lip sticks out and your eyes become more and more glassy. 

“Please don’t cry” he begs, partly because it breaks his heart, and partially because he doesn't want get in trouble. He knew what kind of hellfire Sarah Rogers could rain down.   

“We’re sorry, what can we do to make it up to you?” Bucky asks, scooting himself to face your tear stained face. He felt bad for making Steve run across the bridge, he never meant to hurt you. 

“I-I need a groom for my wedding.” you state without hesitation, wiping at your eyes. “And I can’t marry Steve cause he’s my brother, duh.” Your wet eyes turn to look intently at Bucky. 

“You can’t get married, you’re 6.” Bucky tries to argue.

“So? You’re 8! That’s only 2 years older! ‘Sides, it’s not real anyway.” you fires back, your bottom lip juts out again, ready to cry if that’s what it takes.

He’s taken a back for a moment at your reply, and blue eyes meet Steve’s pleading ones. He’d do anything for you, and of course Steve was the cherry on top. 

“Ok. Fine.”

On a rainy day in April, Steve walks you down the aisle. 

Clad in his nicest, unstained, khaki pants, Bucky’s heart skips a beat when he sees you. You’re wearing your Cinderella costume from Halloween, and some stolen red lipstick from your mom, smiling like you got an extra juice pop. Somehow, he already knows your the prettiest girl in the world.  

In front of your moms, stuffed animals and barbies, Bucky promises to always make you laugh and smile, and to protect you. You promise to always share her toys and food with him, and to make him feel better when he’s sad.

The ceremony ends after Steve pronounces you both husband and wife, and while your moms cheer and tear up slightly, Bucky leans in and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. It won’t be so bad being married to her, he thinks.

~~~

School sucked for Bucky today. Steve got into a fight with Zemo, which lead to Bucky getting in a fight with Zemo. That punk couldn’t even breathe right, it frustrated Bucky to no end that he couldn’t stop being stupid. Turns out, being punched in face hurts more than it looks in the movies. And of course, his parents weren’t thrilled and took away his TV privileges for the week, which meant he couldn’t find out what happened on his favorite show the Howling Commandos. Last week was even a cliffhanger! Captain America and the Winter Soldier were stuck on a plane with bombs on them and fast approaching Manhattan! 

Wallowing, both Steve and him were relegated to “use their imaginations” and playing in the backyard. Bored out of their minds, they played hide and seek, a babies game really if you asked Bucky. But, Steve was nice enough to let Bucky hide first, and Bucky couldn’t say no to that bruised face.

So here he was, climbing the ladder to the old tree house, hoping Steve wouldn’t look here right away. Sniffles drew his attention you, crying softly in the corner with your knees to your chest. You were blasting music from your walkman, Endless Love from what Bucky could hear. It was really bad then. His chest hurt seeing your red rimmed eyes, and crawled next to you. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked lowly, taking her headphones off of your head and pausing the song. You didn’t look him in the eye, but leaned into him more when he put his arm around you. 

“Stupid boys.” you sniffle. Wiping your face, you finally meet Bucky’s worried eyes. “Jake dumped me for Sierra, cause she always has chocolate snack packs in her lunch.”

“That weasel! Want me to rough him up a little?”

“Thanks, but I think you and Stevie are in enough trouble as it is.” you chuckle, placing your head on his shoulder. He gently rubs his hand up and down your arm, wishing he could take away your pain. 

“I could pretend to be your boyfriend, make him jealous your going out with a 6th grader.” he offers.

“You can’t be my boyfriend, you’re already my husband!” you joke. His eyes go wide, remembering your lovely wedding ceremony and the massive amounts of cake you both ate at the “reception”. 

“Hey! That’s right! Technically you were cheating on me with him! I want a divorce.” he jokes, bumping your shoulder with his. 

You giggle and place a hand on his, “Please forgive me! It’s been so hard being separated from you now that you’re in middle school! He didn’t mean anything! Promise!”

You both erupt laughing so hard that Bucky falls over and brings you with him, which makes you both laugh even harder. Managing to calm down, he places a kiss on your forehead and hugs you closer to him. His heart does a funny dance in his chest, but he ignores it. You’re so warm against him, and your shampoo smelled so good, he could lay here with you forever. 

“I guess I’ll forgive you this once, but don’t let it happen again.” he says solemnly. 

You nod, hair tickling his face, “It won’t, you’re the only one for me Bucky Barnes.” 

~~~

 The room’s getting dark, but he couldn’t be bothered to get up and turn on the light. Not when Lional Richie was pouring his heart out. He couldn’t go down to dinner, his whole family had heard her breaking up with him. Did Dot really have to come over and break things off in the driveway? It would kill him to see the pity in his mom’s eyes, and sit through the uncomfortable talk with his dad about his feelings. He knew they were worried about him, and wanted to help, but he couldn’t stomach facing them.

They hadn’t been going out for long, but being dumped for the first time, he didn’t know how to handle his heartache. Honestly, he didn’t know if he was even heartbroken, or just wallowing in self-pity of being blindsided by the breakup. 

A knock on the door brought him out of his misery. Must be his mom, bringing food up to him like the saint that she was. He stands up slowly, acutely aware of how his muscles ache from being curled in a ball for most of the day, and stretches as he makes his way to the door. 

Your bright eyes stare back at him when he opens the door, and in his shock, he takes in the box of pizza you holdand the enormous bag of junk food. 

“What’re you doing here?” voice cracking from underuse. 

“Steve told me what happened with Dot. I brought pizza and your favorite snacks and movies. I can drop them off and leave though if you would rather be alone?” your voice hopeful that he won’t turn you away. Like he could, he’s never turned you away before and he won’t start now. 

A small smile makes its way onto his face, and he opens the door wider so you can come into the bedroom. Your grin soothes the ache in his chest. You put the pizza down on his nightstand and cue up Star Wars. Getting cozy on his bed and patting the spot next to you, it seems like you fit right in. He didn’t need to be asked twice. 

By 4 AM, he’s forgotten all about what’s-her-name, and his earlier self-pity and heartbreak. Not when Star Wars was playing in the background and your blinking sleepily at the TV, head on his shoulder. 

~~~

“Bucky, we have a situation.” Steve announces, flopping onto Bucky’s bed. Bucky looks up from the laptop in his lap with a confused stare, waiting from Mr. Dramatic to explain. He didn’t have time for his antics, his last college final of the semester was due next week.

“Y/N’s prom date bailed on her, and it’s tomorrow.” was all Steve said, and looked at Bucky, waiting for what he knew would happen now.

“That dick.” Bucky replied, mentally searching for his tux. “If I leave now, I can make it with enough time to shower and get ready.” And he hops off the bed, grabbing his duffle bag, he stuffs whatever he may need for the impromptu trip home. Steve just stares at him with a smile on his face like the little shit he is. 

A 5 hour drive home, shower, frantic search for his tux, and a quick power nap later, he knocks on your door. He wishes he could photograph the look of surprise on your face, your jaw literally drops when he see him in his tux.

“Bucky?!” And he swears he forgot how beautiful you were. Literally glowing, and he doesn't think it’s from the makeup, he can’t help himself as he takes in your dress. You’ll be the most beautiful one there, no contest. “Hey doll.” he smirks at you, still amused by your shocked state. He can tell when your brain catches up when your eyes soften as you look up at him.

“What are you doing here?” you ask in a soft voice. 

“Taking you to prom, what else would I be doing?” and he can see you calculating in your head. 

“Bucky, you must have driven all night!” you exclaim. Bucky loves when your eyes grow wide, it’s so cute.

“It’s fine, who needs sleep?” he says as he steps inside, past your frozen, and shocked state. Steve must have told your parents he was coming, he can see your parents waiting with the camera in the living room. 

“You told me you were going to work on your final all weekend.” you fire back, closing the door. 

“This is more important to me.” and he can tell you don’t quite believe him. You have a scowl on your face that reminds him of when you would catch him stealing a piece of candy as kids. He’s pretty sure you think it’s intimidating, but he finds it adorable. 

“I promise that I worked on it already, and I’ll be ok.” and he presses a kiss to your forehead. “You look beautiful.” your glad your foundation hides the sudden flush of your face. 

“You’re not too shabby yourself.” you tease back. But really, seeing him like this does inexplicable things to your heart. He’s so handsome, and he had driven all night to take you to prom. You could just kiss him. 

Taking your hands in his, you look into his eyes. “Thank you.” you say earnestly. 

And Bucky knew in that moment, he would drive days to get to you if needed.

Part 2 

[eirenare]

My TROS experience and thoughts (the good, the bad, a bit of speculation, an “old” WIP drawing, and... hopes)

Putting this under a “read more” because, well... this post is a huge walking spoiler

This morning I woke up really, really early to re-watch TLJ with my brother and do stuff before the hour of watching TROS arrived—I remember almost crying watching TLJ, already almost crying listening to that damn TROS song on Fortnite as my brother played it for a while

I was nervous all day long, honestly. I accidentally stumbled the other day into a hashtag on Twitter called “BenSoloDeservedBetter”, and I was already on edge. A lot. Not to mention that I accidentally saw half a comment somewhere on Twitter saying something that had made me doubt

So, yeah, I basically spent all day trying to give myself hope and reassurance while deeply having ONE FEAR. That was: Ben not surviving

You see, I love with every inch of my being Reylo, but—Ben is my favorite character of all Star Wars. Like, I can’t help it, I have a super soft spot for him

I had, like, super high hopes for TROS, and yeah, I liked the movie... or well, most of it (and I got some things right to my delight and surprise, one of them being the throne with Dark Rey sitting in it, but more on that stuff later)

There were funny moments I enjoyed (Babu Frik, Finn joking about Poe’s past as spice runner, C3PO being C3PO...), the scary/terrorific moments were amazing (gods I love Palpatine’s new appearence, all the Sith and eerie stuff, the whispers, the machinery...), the action/fight scenes were cool overall (Rey and Ben fighting together against their enemies after seeing each other and doing the lightsaber trick was amazing, for example, also the jumps, and I loved seeing all the spaceships together), the imagery was sometimes amazing too (Palpatine sending that enormous lighting to the sky, for example) and the emotional stuff weirdly enough didn’t make me cry but had my heart pounding (Leia’s passing, Han and Ben’s parallel scene, Rey and Ben’s healing scene and their last scene...), not to mention I was gripping tightly my bag and jacket to my lap throughout most of the movie, BUT

B  U  T

The fact that Ben didn’t make it out alive left me very, VERY bitter

I have to say, again, that weirdly enough I just... didn’t cry, even when Rey died, not even when Ben died, and he’s my favorite. Most of the times it happens, that my brain’s kind of... messy, when it comes to emotions (it seems that, most of the time, my brain just goes from “step: something happens” to “step: body/voice reaction” skipping “step: feel” in the middle—... although that usually doesn’t happen if the emotions are negative, which sucks specially if you already feel like you yourself are a mess—), so... yeah

It kind of... Well, the tears didn’t start falling until I was watching the credits with my brother (bless his soul for listening to my rambling, and for granting me multiple hugs, for calling my dear “Ben” instead of “Kylo” now, and overall being so patient with me—I didn’t miss the fact that he was looking at my reactions at some points, like when the Reylo kiss, and then Ben dying, because he knows how much I love them), when it registered that it was really the end, and that yes, Ben was... dead. I kept crying as we watched the credits, and then outside of the theater a bit again, and then at home, and I’m now crying as I write this

Look, I loved the Reylo moments we got even though I wanted some more. And although (as I explained above) I was “numb” almost all the time and even while watching the kiss, I enjoyed it and I could “feel” that I was happy and excited about it because my chest was pounding like crazy and my lips were doing that kind of quivering when you can’t quite contain yourself and you’re emotional

(... Yes, living with this brain of mine is a mess, and I don’t even know if this has always been like this or started at some point, because my memory’s also a good mess—I hate this so much)

But then—then I saw Ben fall backwards and start to disappear, and I went from glee and triumph to “oh no” (also: hello there pit my old friend)

I mean... They just went and killed a character that was trying to do good after a life of strife with himself and what he did and did not do, a character that was just starting to go to the light (to see the light)—a character that’s been all his life marked by the abuse he’s been suffering ever since he was in the kriffing womb, therefore not even allowing him to really live. They basically killed... a symbol of hope

It feels sad and discouraging for me, even though what he did was noble

It just stings. And the fact that Rey didn’t see Ben at the end alongside Leia and Luke, when she adopts the surname “Skywalker”? ... Why. They could’ve added him, but no. Why. And I have to say, while I like a lot “Rey Nobody”, I also like the contrast between her and Palpatine, the subversion of dark and light, that even though darkness runs in her veins, she would still choose the light.

(Also, the totally not serious question my brother and I joke about, though: who the fuck decided to have a crazy night with Mr. Raisin Ass and to give him an “heir”?)

To soothe myself, I like to think that since Ben “vanished” into the Force and became one with it, and that since Rey’s kind of “a host” of the Force (?), he’s now always with her and they can feel each other. I like to think that, sometimes, they’ll see each other, be able to be together if only for brief moments—maybe at night, sleeping, Rey would feel Ben wrapped around her (my feels asdbfkffnggjglg)

(You can bet your ass that I’m abso-kriffing-lutely going to write something about this because I NEED IT BADLY)

Another thing that soothes me is that Ben passed away with the biggest, most beautiful smile on his face, and even though I hate that he died, I’m glad he was able to feel that kind of happiness with Rey and that he was able to join the light side in the end—now, yeah, give me Force Ghost Ben at some point in the future at least,  p l e a s e

EDIT (addition of paragraph) — Also: Ben’s face when he looks at Rey every damn time, Ben running to Rey’s rescue with only a kriffing blaster, again the fight they had and when Rey sent him the lightsaber, and then lifting himself up from the pit with all his kriffing injuries and the pain he must have been enduring to then give up his life to save the love of his life—iconic, badass, a true dork in love whom I adore, the kriffing boss. But you know what I missed A LOT, that I realized I didn’t remember it being in the movie after watching it?? The “I DO”. I don’t think I’ve heard its equivalent in Spanish, and that has me pretty much confused and bitter. Like, wtf? If they let that out:  w h y ?

Kathleen Kennedy pretty much hinted that maybe we’ll see “more Skywalkers” in the future, so, yeah *looks sideways at Rey and her ghost husband* Praying that they’d be in that “Project Luminous” of 2020, or later, but just... be somewhere else more

Something that bothers me, though—is there really a balance in the Force, after TROS? Rey’s lineage may be of dark and she may have taken the path of the light, but does that mean the Force is balanced now, or maybe not...? *scratches head* I don’t know, I need a re-watch and to have some serious thinking of this

As I write this post, I’m trembling almost to a shaking point and my chest is hurting. In all honesty, as much as I love Reylo... If I had to choose between Reylo happening or Ben living, I’d choose Ben living

... Now, it’s gonna hurt so much more reading “The Rise of Kylo Ren”. Oh, dear

If we set aside Ben’s passing, though, regarding how I saw the movie, I’d say that as much as I enjoyed it overall, it kind of felt like... it lacked things. Explanations and a bit more of worldbuilding, for example? More Knights of Ren stuff (although luckily we’re having them in “The Rise of Kylo Ren” alongside their leader, Mr. Hottie McHotHot aka Ren? Maz explaining how she got the Legacy lightsaber? TROS kind of feels, like... a little incomplete to me. I don’t know if to others it feels that way, but it kinda feels like that for me and my brother

Still I’m aware that, well, it HAS to be difficult to end such a story, and that it can’t possibly be easier to fit a lot in a 2h33 movie, you know? It seems... very complicated, and the stakes were high. So yeah, I understand that (while what I don’t take well at all, I don’t think I’ll ever do, is Ben’s death—it was pointless, and the fact that Rey didn’t show too much feeling about it... it feels weird). And well, the junior and non-junior novelizations will come out in March, so I like to think that we’ll get more details in them (like with the TFA and TLJ novelizations)

... And I really, really need a good rewatch of TROS because I’m forgetting a lot of stuff probably. So yeah, next Thursday if all goes well, I should have a ticket to go and watch it again, except this time in English with Spanish subtitles

A funny thing that happened at the theater, by the way, was that a woman hissed in excitement a pair of rows before us “I KNEW IT” when Rey was revealed to be a Palpatine

Also: I really, really hope that Rey doesn’t stay in Tatooine with how much she loves greenery landscape. I hope she went anywhere else that’s green and lush and was able to lead a nice life, to actually live the life Ben granted her, whatever path she would choose to take—and that Ben’s ghost would kind of like, be around her, you know?

Now, there are some things that made me laugh inside, and that is... that I got some stuff right. An example of that is the fact that Rey mentioned seeing herself sitting on that throne, something that happens in my “Rey of Jakku” fic and of which I was doing a WIP the last days of november (look, that happening was the thing least probable in my mind so... lol):

Also the cannon distroying Kijimi, too, and it seems that about the nature of Rey and Ben’s bond too. Also, when C3PO started explaining about the Pasaana festivity it kind of reminded me of how he started explaining the marriage customs in my “arranged marriage in Pasaana” AU. And I don’t remember now because my head’s pretty much a mess and specially right now (and as I said I really need a re-watch), but I think I recognized other things too

TROS wasn’t what I expected, and on the scales it has both its good and its not-so-good things (being the worst of them, for me, Ben’s death—of which I’m trying to cope by thinking what I said of him being literally with Rey now, maybe sometimes being able to see each other and interact), so... it’s a weird mix of me liking the movie while also not enjoying it nearly as much as I wanted to (as I think I should’ve)

Even though I’m super bitter about Ben, however, thank you to all of the team for working hard on the movie—doing the last piece of the Skywalker saga movies sounds everything but easy

Now, looking forward to the future...

I see myself continuing to write and draw Reylo, honestly. Ben’s death has kind of spurred me further to do stuff, so yeah—gonna keep up with my alternate TROS Reylo fic (“Rey of Jakku”), and I’m pumped to attempt writing other stuff, like... trying to write regarding Force Ghost Ben interacting with Rey, or working on AUs (*looks sideways at the “arranged marriage in Pasaana” AU, “Ice-skating” AU and the “padawan Ben meets mechanic Rey in Batuu” AU)

Will also be looking forward with utmost interest at “The Rise of Kylo Ren”, and to see what the merchandising team and the books and comics have to show in 2020—which means I’ll be dying inside all over again when I see Ben and Rey’s last scene, but well *shrugs* The novels are specially interesting to me. I mean, getting to read how these two felt about each other throughout TROS, and specially at the end? Written by Rae Carson? YES PLEASE

Also, if “Project Luminous” happened to have Rey (and even better yet: Force Ghost Ben appearing), I’d be even more interested in it—a lot more

The experience with TROS was a mix of good and not-so-good things, coupled with the One Fear I had regarding Ben (my baby... oh, how that kriffing stings), but still, it wasn’t that bad of an experience in my case

So, yeah... I think I’ll write some more thoughts later, tomorrow or another day when my head’s clearer (probably will write more when I re-watch), but so far, these are my thoughts on TROS

Rest in peace, darling, beloved Ben... </3 T_T

[laufire]

ENDGAME

Okay. I definitely won’t be able to sleep today, so I might as well pour out all my Endgame feelings right now.

First thing first, I was probably in the WORST POSSIBLE HEADSPACE to watch this film; national elections where fascists could take over Congress (spoiler alert, they didn’t. I literally just cried with relief for over ten minutes) AND being extremely concerned about characters you over-identify with on the same day, all after the worst year of your life, apparently don’t mix well. Who would have thunk.

(btw, I was spoiled as I was voting about That Very Big Thing; everyone who follows me probably can guess what I’m talking about. I almost threw hands tbh. Then almost cried over a dozen times on the way to the theatre because the stress of the day was killing me ugh).

All this to say, my head is a mess right now, I don’t even know if this post is going to make any sense, and I will probably take time to process certain things and have a definite opinion on them LOL. But well, here is now.

And err. Warning for a brief mention of suicide ideation?

(crossposted to dreamwidth, livejournal, and pillowfort)

TONY (& CO)

– In case it wasn’t obvious, the thing I was spoiled about? Yeah, it was Tony’s death. FML. I mean, even if I wasn’t spoiled, I would’ve seen it coming as soon as we saw him after the five years jump, lbr (happily off-screen married to Pepper? With an adorable daughter? Pepper resigned to the possibility of losing him instead of begging him to stay like in IW? And then the movie kept hammering it home LMAO; that and a lot of things for the mains that I kind of saw coming from less than a third into the movie, which IDK if it’s because I was particularly intuitive, or the foreshadowing was that heavy handed xD).

Obviously, I’m not rocking your world if I tell you I’m extremely heartbroken, I guess. Especially because, as I said, my emotions were already all over the place. And seeing a character I adore, and in who I project a lot of my issues on –including, yes, suicidal issues–, sacrifice their lives (no matter how poignant, and moving, and well-written it might be) was incredibly hard for me. So, yeah. I’m going to have to deal with that for a while I guess. Which I plan to do by writing a bunch of Fix-It and Not Actually Fix-It fics ASAP.

But. I mean, out of all the endings Tony could have, this was always my second choice for him. And he was grandiose in this film. He figured out time travel. He created a gauntlet capable of holding the Infinity stones. Beings far more powerful than him were trying to carry that gauntlet to the van and none of them thought to use it, but he did. He was completely vindicated. He is the Saviour of the Universe.

And he looked gorgeous the entire time, which is truly important for me.

– In all seriousness, the thing I take to heart the most is that

his legacy remains intact

, and it’s inspiring, and heroic, and poetic, and prosperous. Clearly, without him, my enthusiasm for the universe will never be the same, but one thing that worried me is that I wouldn’t want anything to do with Marvel for a while after this film, and that’s not how I’m feeling; I’m very much looking forward to further parallels and homages to him in my ever-growing list :P

Tho, honestly, I’m kind of side-eyeing myself for the fact that, the one time!!! I go and fall in love with a male lead character, he happens to be genuinely heroic and self-sacrificing, instead of just using those concepts as lip-service and getting to have his cake and eat it too LMAO. I mean, sure, given my reactions to those characters, the AeJons Snowrgaryens of the world, I wouldn’t have liked him so much if it was the case, but dammit. It’d be nice to experience that high sometime xD

– The Iron Fam is the best part of this movie for me. Tony’s relationship with Morgan was way too adorable to handle it; Pepper was enormous and so poised (and the scene where they circle around each other in their armors… poetic cinema); I didn’t get enough Iron Husbands to satiate me (Rhodey’s caress should have been skin to skin!), but I loved what we got; Happy is an assholes who made me cry ABOUT CHEESEBURGERS.

And let’s not talk about Peter, OMG. My heart. And Harley appeared to Tony’s funeral! Though, honestly, the person I missed the most there was Christine Everhart, who should have been there just on the basis that I like her (plus, ya know, IMO she was important to Tony’s origin dammit).

I’m going to consider Nebula an honorary member, tbh. Her scenes with Tony in space cut me deep; and she and Rhodey are buddies!

Natasha and Fury (I loved his appearance *sniffs*) are honorary members too, because fuck it. They both appeared first vis a vis Tony on his movies, and have two of my favourite relationships with him, and I say so.

– Related to that, one Failure™ of this movie, is not providing a Nat & Tony one-on-one scene. Seriously, I can’t believe they didn’t realize how necessary that was. But I ADORED the scene where they and Bruce are lying down bouncing ideas about the stones (it made me softly whisper “ot3” LOL); it was possibly the only “Avengers” moment that worked for me –other than Clintasha, but that’s on a different league tbh.

I wanted more Nebula & Tony scenes too; I would’ve loved to see Tony interact with Past!Nebula. Yes, realistically, he would probably had made her LOL, but. I needed it. it’s definitely on my to-write-list :P

– I wanted just some positive interaction between Carol & Tony to counteract Current Comics Bullshit and I got Carol rescuing him, smiling beatifically at him, and Tony basically saying she was Da Bomb and the Avengers should follow her lead instead of keep sucking xDD So that was nice.

– I loved the scene at the beginning where he fucking SNAPS, and goes for Steve’s throat. It was probably my favourite scene. It’s resolution with everyone’s reactions and after the flashforward kind of… totally sucked, but whatever. Still amazing.

– The only part of his storyline that I HATED, and I mean absolutely loathed, was his scene with Howard. Jesus Fucking Christ. They went with the most simplistic take they could have, didn’t they. I haven’t felt more insulted in the theatre in my entire life, and my family made me watch both Ocho apellidos movies with them, so Marvel? That’s a feat. The moment where he says his father hit him with a belt so we (Tony included) are supposed to think, well, at least Howard wasn’t physically violent with his son, hooray?

And I think we’re supposed to take his “wouldn’t want my son to turn like me” as motivation for Tony’s actions and like… newsflash, but Tony has “put the worlds’ needs over his own gain” since Iron Man. Fucking. One. It’s literally what he does in this film, because we’re shown that, despite having achieved his happy ending, he was still trying to figure out time travel even if it meant risking his future.

Seriously, if they wanted me to be moved, they should’ve used Maria. Or hell, Edwin Jarvis was right there. And if whitewashing of Howard’s abuse becomes one of those MCU things that ends up bleeding into the comics, I’m gonna riot. Ugh.

BTW, just thought about this. Has anyone confirmed what the H. of Morgan’s second name stands for? Because my immediate idea was that it was for Happy, but now the fear that it might relate to Howard has entered my brain and I need someone to drive it out.

OTHER FAVES :P

– I am a lot more heartbroken over Natasha’s death than I expected to be. I like her character on paper a lot, but sometimes the writing or the acting don’t agree with me; neither was the case in this movie. I thought she was incredible. I loved the scene where she’s leading the post-dusting council. So losing her in this movie, of all movies, really hurts. And I understand why people who love her would be unhappy, and even furious –to some extent, so am I, tbh; specially because I don’t think she was properly honoured by the other characters after the fact–, but I do think it was extremely fitting for her arc.

– I loved Nebula’s storyline; how she was able to form new relationships, and what I know will be enduring friendships. Her interactions with her younger self were fascinating too; I loved that she perfectly followed the time-travel mumbo-jumbo. And she was so adorable at the beginning. Her bond with Tony didn’t have as much screen time as I wish it had, but the rest of the movie really shows how much his kindness touched her, and I love it. I’m a bit sad she didn’t get to kill any Thanos, tho.

– Okay, putting him in the “faves” section doesn’t exactly feel right, but whatever: I maintain that Thanos is a great villain. I don’t know what people that say otherwise are thinking. He’s the perfect foil for so many characters, and he is genuinely villainous; he is so delusional and self-righteous (seriously, his “solution” for the Snap 2.0 was… o.0) his plans feel sincerely menacing. He perfectly spells out his own doom; narratively speaking? He’s a joy of a villain to me. And I loved how he reacted to the information about the future; specifically, that upon learning about Nebula’s “betrayal”, his tactic was SOFTENING towards past!Nebula to make her even more eager to please him.

– Carol didn’t have much screen time, but I liked what she got (like, nothing too deep, but I didn’t expect much). I liked the Carol/Rhodey nod, even if I’m not sure how I feel about the ship in this incarnation. I wanted to hear something about Maria, but welp.

And on a shallow note, I kind of love that fandom absolutely freaked out about her wearing lipstick on a scene (while praising the “~natural no-make-up make up, effortlessly feminine without looking like you’re actually trying” look that she sported on CM, and disregarding that while yes, it was a troubling look that fitted a pattern across movies, A4 was made first so it was hardly a “betrayal” of the semi-grunge style), for the movie to go and give her the butchest look she’s ever gonna get on film lmao (and I will be pleasantly surprised if they’d keep a look like this for a movie where she’s the lead and not a supporting character, tbh).

– Sam and Bucky were So Soft™ with each other OMG. If their show doesn’t have at least ONE episode centred on them going undercover as a married couple, I’ll write it myself, because they are perfect for it (especially if you add some of the early banter/antagonism).

Btw, Sam getting the shield? The only good part of that mess at the end LMAO.

– I have mixed feelings for the Alt!Gamora development. I just… really loved the GOTG-IW versions of her character and her ship, and she’s gone and just… :( And that type of pseudo-amnesia/relationship do-over thing can be so badly written sometimes… But she’s back, and if done right, the role-reversal between her and Nebula could be gr10 for GOTG 3. We’ll see.

THE BAD™

– I know if I walked up right now to the Russos, and asked them why they hate Thor so much, they wouldn’t even understand the question. They would say, but we love Thor?? He’s such a fun character?? Or some version of the sort. They can fool themselves, but not me. You don’t do this to a character for whom you feel a modicum of respect, IMO.

Like, the fat-phobic jokes? The way they dealt with his substance abuse? How his arc about stepping up and assuming responsibilities ended by… him throwing away his responsibilities. Losing his hammer was a turning point for him to relearn the lessons about value and worthiness and power he’d been taught, and then… this movie. I couldn’t even fully enjoy his scenes with Frigga because I was so appalled by it all.

His only great scene, IMO, was how horrified and out of it he sounded after killing Thanos. I really felt that.

I didn’t even enjoy that he passed his power to Valkyrie because… unlike with Sam, that basically came out of nowhere. If they at least had given them ONE more scene at the beginning; seriously, it writes itself: just put her in the room when Bruce and Rocket are trying to convince him to go with them, and have her being the one that does it. Make her help him the way HE helped HER in Ragnarok; show her trying to help him and getting angry and frustrated. IDK, something.

And I know I’m probably alone in this because everyone around me practically creamed their pants when it happened but… having Steve control Mjolnir felt like adding insult to injury. Not just lifting it (which I would’ve been annoyed by too, given that they rewrote the new Asgardian mythology just to have this scene lol), but commanding it as only Thor did. Just. How much more are you going to take from Thor, people.

I want to make it clear that my problem is with the execution, not with Thor going through this; that, written differently, with more care, I could have loved.

– I’ve always been conflicted with MCU Steve. I loved the Captain America old comics I read as a child, and 616 Steve was A Hero. So I wanted to love MCU Steve just as much but… it often felt that he just didn’t measure up.

Well, conflict over. I don’t like the guy. Reading Man Out of Time just a few months ago probably isn’t helping (and yeah, that’s not a fair comparison, but it illustrates why I look at 616 Steve, and I adore him, and then I turn to MCU Steve and just… this guy is not worth my time).

I couldn’t even enjoy the ship, because my feelings for it come solely from my love for Peggy, and she didn’t even get to say a word? Add to that the fact that an endless loop of “OMG HE MADE OUT WITH YOUR NIECE. NOW HIS NIECE. RUN” was going through my head the entire time (the fact that Sharon was absent from the funeral when EVC acted in half of the MCU Russos films is hilarious in light of this xDD).

 MISC

– I really enjoyed some of the heist shenanigans. Especially Tony’s plan for a distraction being GIVING HIS PAST SELF A HEART ATTACK. How extra and edgy can my man be xD Tony and Scott are A Duo.

– I was thinking that Alt!Loki might make an appearance in GOTG3 if Thor is really a part of it, and how that might mix, but then a friend reminded me about his show, so I guess that’s where they’re going? IDK, The Avengers’ Loki is probably the one I liked the least out of all his appearances, so unless I hear something really good about it, I’m not picking it up.

– IDK if it’s because I was desensitized, but the white suits and Clint’s hairdo didn’t look as ugly on the final product?

– So THAT was the gay character Feige went on about. I knew he was going to be an unnamed nobody with less than five lines LMAO. Stop being cowards and give us Danbeau and WinterFalcon.

– I was very touched about Ned and Peter’s hug (MY BBYS), but isn’t Ned supposed to be five years older? AKA out of high school? I mean, he looked like he had missed Peter, not like he had disappeared with him too? And the entire class is going on a trip in FFH? Is it because of nostalgia/a friends thing? Were all of them dusted? Because poor teacher then xDD

– I think a lot of emotional threads were unceremoniously dropped, but other than the ones I’ve mentioned, I’m more indifferent towards their recipients so… eh. A great example is the fact that Bruce’s conflicting journey with Hulk was solved off-screen LMAO. Some of the humour felt extra-cringy too tbh.

– I have Tony-related fanart as my lock screen, my computer background, and my phone background. I get teary eyed with just looking at them. I should think of changing them, but I wont xD

– I know I’m forgetting things but whatevs, I can talk about them later.

[dimples-of-discontent]

Love, Necromancy, Cocks, and the Reanimated Corpse of Compulsory Heterosexuality: Watching Notes for 14x06

Oh my goodness this episode was pure fucking delight!! Is there a member of the NextGen writers’ room who isn’t binging wall-to-wall fanfic as inspiration? I mean, this even began as a library AU for crying out loud! I love these people and I love what they’re doing and they managed to do something I thought was impossible...not mind that this is our third episode in a row without Cas. We even got a nice lil’ shoutout to meta writers as Sam illustrated for Charlie why she was like the flyman and she gently insisted that, although Sam did have a point, she was not, to be clear, actually the same as flyman. (This will not stop me from proceeding with my flyman-type readings though. But thanks, Yockey!)

So obviously this was an episode about love and....love as we could tell from the tagline, “the things we do for love” and the title, “Optimism.” I’m sorry to say, though, that I ended up feeling that both those things were a setup for some very dark times indeed that are a-comin’! *rocks chair* *sips moonshine* We just learned from the PR that 14x08 will be an episode in which Cas makes an “enormous sacrifice.” And, well, there are only a few options for that at this point. I’ll talk more about it in a sec, but I think “the things we do for love” is pretty clear foreshadowing of not precisely what he’ll do but why he’ll do it. 

So anyway, here are some bullet-point-type rambles about things I noticed immediately post-episode. If I have time I might get to expand on them but, the way my time has been lately, it’s a lot more likely that they’ll stay rambly and informal. Still, feel free to pick up and toss around/expand on whatever appeals!

Necromancers - it’s not real love if it’s dead: I reblogged the lovely @mittensmorgul already being smart as usual about the connection between this and last season’s Yockey treat “Various and Sundry Villains” but I thought of it the moment I saw Harper because she looked so very much like the Plum sisters--you remember, the codependent ladies who put a love spell on Dean to steal a book and then tried to raise their mom from the dead only to have it lead to their demise at each other’s hands. Harper mentions that she’s from a long line of necromancers and, well, seems pretty plausible to me. Where the Plum sisters brought back their mom, though, Harper is looking to bring back her man (or men, if Jack is her next target) to stay with her forever. 

Just as the Plum sisters showed an unhealthy model of parent-child and sibling-sibling relationships that was allegorically appropriate to the Winchesters, Harper shows an unhealthy model of what a relationship is or could be. The Plums were unwilling to let their dead mother (or each other) go, clinging with slavish devotion to the idea of getting her, and their normal life, back. Instead of having real relationships, they cast love spells and sacrificed men (read: any possibility of a non-familial partner) to sustain it. Harper may have had a good enough relationship with Vance to start, who knows?, but she was unwilling to let him go in much the same way the Plums couldn’t let their mother die. He wanted to leave the town that she was tied to because of her family and her family business (necromancy). And instead of adhering to the idea that if you love something you should let it go she killed him and brought him back to participate in a kind of love that literally fed on other people to keep it going. Harper kept him against his will, forcing him to fit into her life in a way that required sacrificing innocent lives and kept her from being able to move on.

In both cases? It’s not love if it’s dead. Let it go.

My boyfriend’s back and you’re gonna be in trouble: Anyone else remember that uber-terrible 90s movie where a girl’s boyfriend came back as a zombie? No? I didn’t see it, but I recall seeing the preview in a theater and that it had a scene where they were making out and his ear fell off and it HORRIFIED me since I’d barely even heard of making out at that point. Anyway, I bet you anything Steve Yockey saw that movie which was called “my boyfriend’s back.” Harper has too many interested men, actually, which is the source of her “terrible luck” and being “perpetually single.” So, just to be clear, someone who says she’s “perpetually single” (and ready to mingle?) and has “terrible luck” with relationships is actually in a secret long-term relationship with her first love who she killed (all relationships have their issues!) and brought back from the dead as a supernatural creature who is terribly possessive of her. She wasn’t just single with terrible luck she actually had her boyfriend back!

Now, it’s not a 1-to-1 Destiel parallel and I’m not saying it is. This isn’t a flyman situation. But it’s suggestive of it anyway because all Harper’s “bad luck” with romance actually has a pretty simple explanation. She’s already in a relationship. So, uh, Dean you having some trouble there? Not finding any relationships that will stick? People you show affection for maybe keep dying? Try this explanation on for size. 

Like a romance novel: Again, I’m not suggesting this is all 1-to-1. But following up on these other two points I’d like to point out how Harper and Vance are stereotypical of a certain kind of “first love”. They met in high school. He was a football player she was the prom queen everything was going great. Then he wanted to leave and expand their lives and she wanted to keep everything the same. So she killed him. To keep everything the same. To combat change and the unfamiliar. So that instead what she got was the familiar, reanimated and always consuming everyone around her, living when it manifestly shouldn’t. They’re a romance novel gone wrong. A heterosexual romance novel gone wrong. Because Vance, “Archie,” is a certain kind of all-American guy. 

And if you think there wasn’t some kind of symbolic resonance to the reanimated corpse of All-American masculinity beating Dean up after he got clobbered with a shelf full or romance novels, well, think again. And then Vance just...decided Dean wasn’t a threat. He just walks off and leaves him and we’re left going ??? until we learn that he’s after Jack and that, because he sees Jack as a more viable romantic threat than Dean, he needs to pursue him. Dean was judged by the specter of toxic masculinity (or compulsory heterosexuality) and found wanting. That’s kind of big, guys.

Dick’s diner (love them, uh, Roosters): You guys, the monster knew that even sweet lil’ cinnamon roll Jack is more heterosexual than Dean is right now. Jack’s the one asking (repeatedly) about sex and Dean’s the one (repeatedly) not talking about it. He’s all business with the waitress, even when she tells Jack that “sometimes you just have the sex,” and even though he’s spouting a lot of wisdom about love (as someone who has obviously read one billion romance novels for “research purposes”) he’s not saying anything about what women want in the bedroom (or wherever else they want it). Even the diner, canonically the site of all Dean’s hookups with a no-bullshit waitress who explicitly mentions sex is filled with cocks. Just...cocks everywhere. And, yeah, Dean’s going to touch some of those cocks. He can’t really help it when they’re just everywhere. And he’s NOT going to make any time for a classic diner hookup. He’s just...gonna keep staring at those cocks. (I know they are about Richard Speight directing--and certainly the diner name is a reference to that--but there is no way it’s not also about cocks. And also I make no apologies for my sense of humor here. Cocks are funny and they’ll always be funny. The end.)

Let’s give ‘em something to talk about....how about love? Whew! You know who wants to talk about love? Dean Winchester. Kudos to Jensen because I felt that any conversation that had the L-word going on was heavy with Things Unsaid. Dean distracting Zombie Archie by trying to talk to him about what love really is but stopping short just after saying “that’s not what love is...c’mon, think about it” but before saying what it was instead? Dean saying that people do a lot crazier things for love (see my long crack rant about just what those kind of things might be DEAN)? I was legitimately kind of prepared for Jack to ask Dean a question about love and Dean to give a revealing answer that allowed Jack to serve as a GA proxy and go “Holy shit! You love Castiel!”. 

But hey, next week they’re apparently going to road trip to Vegas and Jack is going to drive the Impala (BEFORE CAS??? BLASPHEMY!!) so maybe there’s still going to be some time to callback to Sam’s Vegas wedding and how you know you want to marry someone. 

My apologies to Sam and Charlie, whose plotline I did very much enjoy, but I’ve tired myself out. This was pure joy and I feel happy and well fed and, well, optimistic...which can only mean dark times to come because nothing good ever happens on SPN. Take care, lovelies, and stay away from necromancy!

[bethofbells]

Solace - A Criminal Minds (Derek/Penelope) fic

On FF.net | On AO3

(I’m rewatching the series and I’m like mid season three and my morcia shipper heart is getting to me)

At the end of a long hard day of seeing the worst humanity has to offer Penelope Garcia likes things to be soft and sweet. Old romantic comedies are a go to on nights when she can’t get graphic images out of her mind. She puts them on, turning the volume down to a pleasant murmur in the background. She likes the sound of people falling in love while she’s cooking dinner, early nineties soundtracks filling her cluttered apartment as she chops up veggies.

Her favorite is You’ve Got Mail. There’s just something about the texture of the film, Meg Ryan’s soft blonde bob and her decidedly taupey monochromatic wardrobe are soothing in a way. It’s the complete opposite of Penelope’s own bright and flashy sense of style, but it fits the character so perfectly she doesn’t mind. It’s comforting when someone leans into their own personality.

She contemplates the seemingly endless monochromatic collection of turtlenecks and slacks that the character owns, getting lost in the feel of the movie. She’s grateful for that. The BAU’s last case, while not the most horrific one she’d ever been subjected to, was so just unrelentingly sad. It had made her feel heavy waking out of the office tonight, melancholia clinging to her like a wet blanket.

She’s half way through a pint of her favorite Ben & Jerry’s, watching Meg Ryan happy-cry into Tom Hank’s arms when her door buzzer sounds. It’s only then that she realizes she’s crying right along with the movie, moving to dash away the moisture running down her face.

A quick glance at the time tells her it’s past midnight, and she can’t help the little thrill of fear that trickles down her spine. It hasn’t been that long since her apartment building was a scene of mayhem, a man hell-bent on killing her stalking the halls. She can still feel the cold metal of the gun Derek had pressed into her hands for protection. Shuddering, she moves to see who’s buzzing.

Her finger presses down on the button, only a slight tremor revealing her anxiety. “H-hello. Who is it?”

”It’s your knight, coming to release you from your tower.”

She smiles, the fear draining out of her completely. “I like my tower just fine, thank you very much. It has high speed wifi and a well stocked freezer.”

She buzzes him up before waiting for a reply, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. It strikes her as odd, but she shakes it off, attributing it to the fact that Derek has never really been to her home when circumstances weren’t dire.

He’s knocking on her door in minutes and she doesn’t have to fake the bright smile that splits across her face when she swings it open.

He’s come straight from the airport, and he looks tired, his travel bag hanging on his shoulder, eyes not their usual brightness. It worries her for a second, but she’s no profiler, doesn’t want to be, so she chalks it up to the exhausting nature of a transcontinental flight and invites him the rest of the way in

”Not that I’m averse to inviting a deliciously handsome and roguish looking gentleman into my boudoir in the middle of the night, but what are you doing here?”

It’s not normal, and they both know it, but Derek has a look on his face that Penelope’s not used to. It’s sad and tired. She has the strongest urge to step forward and wrap her arms around him.

After a long pause, he answers. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

It’s something of a lie, and they both know it, but his expression begs her to accept it and so she does. He moves further into her apartment, dropping his bag on the hardwood with a thunk. “This is the first week the teams been gone since…” He trails off, the mere mention of her attack seems like just one more thing that makes him sad and tired. “… and I know you were probably a little edgy the whole time.”

Somehow they’ve migrated into her little kitchen area, Derek leaning against her island in an almost obscene display of his natural tendency to strike a modelesque pose. Her eyes involuntarily give him a once over. He’s another one of those people who really leans into the image they present to the word. His dark fitted tee accentuating the line of his pecs, the sleeves cutting across his arm in the perfect place to make his biceps seem enormous. Internally she fans herself like a southern belle suddenly accosted with a bout of the vapors. Externally she’s as cool as a cucumber, a slight bite of her bottom lip the only sign of her inner struggle.

Of course he notices the small movement, one of his perfectly sculpted eyebrows arching upward in amusement. He leans forward, reaching up to catch her bottom lip with his thumb. “You alright there, Pen?”

She smiles at him, adopting her most sultry gaze. It’s her only defense against Derek’s charms, to play along with this game of his. It had been like this from day one. She knows his flirtation is not serious, so she responds flippantly. “Oh, I’m more than alright, Agent Morgan. Just enjoying the view.”

It has the desired result. His eyes crinkle at the corners and he lets out an amused laugh, moving in to land a smacking kiss on her cheek. The strange tension is broken, and he moves toward her fridge to rummage through it for leftovers. “I’m starving, baby girl. The jet of ours is seriously lacking in snack department.”

She moves him out of the way, digging around and making him a plate of what she’d had for dinner hours ago. In minutes they’re sitting side by side on her couch, watching the opening scenes of her second favorite romcom. Harry and Sally are arguing when Derek sets his empty plate on the coffee table, a satisfied sigh escaping him.

She catches him staring, a strange feeling fluttering in the pit of her stomach. For the millionth time since she met him she thinks about how unfair it is, the way he can unthinkingly melt her into a gooey puddle and just go about his life like it’s no big deal.

But he has an unusual expression on his face this time, like he needs to say something but just can’t find the words. He opens his mouth, but closes it, awkwardly waiting a second before he tries again. “I missed you.”

It’s her turn to feel awkward. Things have been different between them since her attack. The deep cut of hurt she’d experienced when he’d seemed skeptical about her romantic life was still in the back of her mind, and she’d definitely been calling the other agents more frequently with information when they were out in the field. She couldn’t help it, there was still a thin film of embarrassment. He’d been right, and god her cheeks still flamed when she’d thought about how angry she’d been at him. It was, she knew, a very revelatory response, one that she knew Derek (one of the bureau’s he’d profilers) had picked up on.

”Derek, look, I’m sorry. You were right about Battle. I just–”

”No, stop. You have nothing to apologize for. I, uh, wasn’t exactly using my abilities as profiler when it came to him.”

”Huh?”

”I was being selfish, I think.” He frowns, trying to articulate what he means. “I felt defensive when you told me you’d met someone, like it meant whatever our thing was might have to change.”

”Our thing?” The hope that springs in her chest momentarily takes her breath away.

”You’re my best friend, Pen… kind of all I have.”

”Oh.” It’s a quiet response, accompanied by a mixture of disappointment and affection. She hates the lonely note in his voice.

“…and when you said you blew him off… I was so relieved I said the first stupid thing that came into my head. It had nothing to do with you.”

She doesn’t have a response. Unspoken is the idea that he was possibly jealous. It sends a thrill through her, but she does her best to tamp it down. “Well, I am sorry too. I have a few sensitive spots, and you just… sort of accidentally found one.” She sighs. “And it’s not like you were wrong.”

She’s staring at the screen now, avoiding looking directly at him. That’s how she feels his touch against her face before she sees him move. His fingers slide under her chin, making her look at him. “Look at me, angel.”

She does. His eyes, when they aren’t sparkling with amusement are always so sincere. It’s no different now, and she feels the remnants of whatever made her cry earlier stir in her chest.

”He was a scumbag, yes.” Derek continues without relinquishing her gaze. “But I’m so lucky that you’re the one who’s on the other end of the lin when my phone rings, that you’re the one I get to come home to after spending a week in a strange place with horrible people. I don’t ever want that to change.”

She smiles, leaning into his embrace. “It’s not going to.”

”Promise?”

”Promise.”

And that’s how they sleep together the first time. Innocently. Penelope’s head tucked under his chin, her ear pressed against his heart. Whatever nightmares lie in wait for the both of them are shoved to the periphery, the sound of people falling in love coming from the television as the two drift into unconsciousness.

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine fic - “Not Just My Wingman” Chapter 3/4 (Rated NC17)

Kurt and Blaine are roommates, living in the loft together after Blaine graduates from high school and moves to New York. Kurt is determined that he’s over Blaine, and tries to prove it by helping him get a date…or ultimately, get laid. But when Blaine succeeds in finding a guy that’s actually interested in him, will Kurt realize that he wasn’t as over Blaine as he thought?

***Edit - In case you’re wondering, yes, I had posted this a while ago, but I came back and re-read it…and decided I hated it. So I re-wrote it. It’s basically the same, only the language is way better, as are the characters. So, read it again!

Based on the Tumblr prompt - Where Kurt and Blaine go out club hopping as friends, with each other as their wingman. “I’d like them to kinda be like ‘well, we’re pretty dumb for not realizing how back together we are’ or something, and ultimately get back together. Maybe someone points out that they’re basically together again…”

Passing mention of Rachel and Santana, but they don’t live at the loft. Also, the bedrooms in the loft are actual rooms with doors. Mention of Adam (Adam friendly) and Chandler. (Mentions the break up and Blaine’s cheating.)

Read on AO3.

Chapter 1 -  The Chapter Where Kurt Tried to Get Blaine Laid…and Succeeded

Chapter 2 - The Chapter Where Kurt Freaked Out and Blaine Went on a Date…in that Order

Chapter 3 -  The Chapter Where We Find Out What the Hell Happened to Kurt

Kurt took longer than he had planned in the shower. He wasn’t lollygagging. He needed the time alone to recover and think. But they paid for water, so Kurt had to do something else to justify the extra time. There was only so much one could do in the shower (after taking masturbating out of the equation), so he put extra care into cleaning and deep conditioning his hair, loofah-ed every rough patch on the soles of his feet, massaged his charcoal mud mask into his face, and then rinsed till his skin squeaked. He showered until the water ran cold, then did a complete second rinse to tighten his pores and get his heart pumping. If Blaine asked, Kurt could claim he was doing an extra bit of pampering since the bar atmosphere, the drinks he’d had, the sweat from dancing (and from sex), and then sleeping on filthy sheets, had wreaked havoc on his skin.

But the truth was he wasn’t ready to face Blaine.

Kurt spent over an hour underneath the spray until he was finally okay. And he knew he was okay because he told himself so, multiple times.

“I can do this,” he said, turning off the water and reaching for his towel. “I can totally do this,” he repeated, patting his wrinkled skin dry. “This is a new day,” he continued, dotting on his face moisturizer, followed by his body moisturizer. “No reason for what happened last night to destroy anything. We’ll move on from here. Continue like it never happened. Things don’t have to get awkward between me and Blaine just because we slept with one another. We’ve slept with each other dozens of times. This isn’t anything new. In fact, this will make things better. There’s been sexual tension in this loft up the wazoo for months. We’ve gotten it out of our systems, and now we can move forward. That’s it. Just … move forward. Just keep swimming … just keep swimming, just keep swimming …” When his personal pep talk devolved into a Disney show tune, he knew it was time to face the music.

Kurt took a breath, wrapped his robe tight around him, and left the bathroom. Whatever he found outside that door, he’d deal with it like a mature adult.

But when he stepped outside, Blaine wasn’t there. The loft was not only quiet, it seemed empty - no sign of life aside from himself. It was Saturday, so Kurt couldn’t think of anything that Blaine had to do. He could have gone down to the gym, decided to shower there since Kurt was taking forever, and blow off some steam in the process. Or maybe he didn’t leave. Maybe he went back to bed to pass out for a few hours. Just thinking of bed made Kurt yawn. Apparently, after everything that had happened, a one-hour shower wasn’t enough to wake him up sufficiently. Sleep sounded like an excellent idea. He’d go to bed, get a few hours of unconsciousness under his belt, and when he woke up, it would be like starting a brand new day.

Kurt went to his room, took off his robe, and, without putting on his pajamas, climbed under his covers. He melted into his mattress, the clean, cool sheets soothing against his freshly washed skin. He was determined to put last night behind him, go on as if it had never happened, even if he could still feel Blaine’s hands on his body, his mouth on his chest, his fingers opening him up, touching him deep inside. And not only in a physical sense. They had come back to where it all began, been one in a way that Kurt didn’t think they had since that first time they made love in Blaine’s bedroom back in Lima.

The more he tried to push those memories aside and surrender to unconsciousness, the more they wanted to settle beneath his skin. The horrible part was they felt comfortable there. They felt right. They fit there, and in a way, they made him whole. Not because Kurt needed a man to complete him. He’d railed against that kind of thinking his entire life. He might want someone, but that didn’t necessarily mean he needed someone. Blaine, in a way, was a perfect fit in that respect. He didn’t try to glue all of Kurt’s pieces back together, but the mess made more sense when he was around, and that was something Kurt had always felt a perfect partner was. Not someone who wanted to fix you, but someone whose presence made order out of the chaos. Blaine had been such an enormous part of Kurt’s life, and not because he was Kurt’s first real boyfriend, or because Kurt had lost his virginity to him. Blaine filled a gap that had been carved out by other people’s bullying and Kurt’s own occasional self-hate. He was the hand Kurt could hold when times got tough, the shoulder he could lean on when he deserved a good cry, the arms that would envelope him when he needed a little extra strength.

Kurt could make it on his own. He knew he could. He’d always known. But for the time that they had been together and loved one another, Blaine made things easier. Better. Even now, when Kurt had consigned the two of them to a future as simply friends, Blaine was one of the best things he had going in his life. He was the smiling face that greeted Kurt every morning and every evening; he was the person Kurt confided in first above everyone else, even his dad; he was Kurt’s “date” to every movie and every musical he wanted to see, every restaurant he wanted to try. They lived their lives like a fabulous old married couple.

Could they actually end up being one?

Could Kurt be okay with giving Blaine a second chance?

Because if Kurt was really honest with himself, as much as he wanted to move on, he couldn’t see a life without Blaine in it in some capacity.

He was afraid that he was beginning to take Blaine for granted without giving much of anything back.

Did Blaine even want to be there, living in the loft with him? Or was he trapped there by guilt, determined to spend a lifetime making amends for what he did?

If Kurt could make Blaine believe that he truly forgave him, would Blaine consider his debt paid and move out?

After last night, Kurt would say that Blaine wanted to be with him – honestly and undoubtedly wanted to be in a relationship with him.

Could they start over fresh?

Was that what Kurt wanted to see happen in the end? The two of them back together?

So many times he had looked at Blaine and said to himself cheater, unforgivable, non-negotiable, end of story. And yet he had dreams of them ending up together, of the wedding he had planned, their honeymoon, the songs they hadn’t gotten the chance to sing, the vacations they never took … the children they said they’d adopt. He thought that maybe he held on to those things so tightly because of the effort he had put into the planning until one day he had a dream out of nowhere of the two of them eloping in a barn, of all places. And it didn’t matter that they were out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by over a century’s worth of mildew and the stale smell of horses, with no one but their high school friends and family around them to witness. They were together. They were husbands. It wasn’t about getting to the altar; it was about getting there with Blaine. They had moved on in their lives, but they had moved on together.

Because Kurt loved Blaine.

And it scared the living daylights out of him.

It was also the reason things never worked out between Kurt and Adam. Kurt had wanted them to work. Adam was a great guy – sweet, funny, and supportive. But he wasn’t Blaine. And as much as Kurt wanted to be over Blaine, he didn’t want to hurt anyone else during that process.

He didn’t want to use Adam as a stepping stone, especially if he couldn’t commit to the man with his whole heart. It wouldn’t be right. Adam didn’t deserve that.

Maybe this was where it was all leading after all. Maybe the task wasn’t to find a way to live apart. Maybe it was trying to find a way to meld back together, pick up where they left off before the cheating, before the miscommunications, before the heartbreak.

Kurt thought about it and thought about it, knowing that he’d get no rest until he came up with a solution, because it would nag at him, sit in the forefront of his brain and poke at him until he came to a conclusion. Eventually, after sifting through his options and struggling with the pros and cons, one thing became infinitely clear.

He loved Blaine. He wanted to spend his life with Blaine. And he wanted that life to start right away.

Kurt began to get excited. He wanted to race out of bed and tell Blaine that instant, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to blurt it out, not after the fit he threw this morning. (Wait? Was it still morning? Kurt had no clue …) Doing it that way seemed like emotional manipulation, no matter how genuine his intentions were. No, he had to ease into it, make sure that he and Blaine were on the same page, make Blaine see that things could be the way he had originally wanted them.

Make him see that Kurt wanted them that way, too.

Yes. That was the solution his brain was searching for. He felt calmer now, more relaxed, and as he tried to outline the steps he would take to win Blaine back – first his head, then his heart – he drifted off to sleep.

***

Kurt woke to the sound of footsteps outside his door, not in strides, but creaking in odd spots, as if someone was sneaking past, trying not to disturb him. Blaine. Blaine was home, or out of his room. This was it, Kurt thought. This was his chance.

Even though Kurt felt like he could sleep for about a week, his eyes popped open. He climbed out of bed and got dressed, not really paying attention to what clothes he put on as long as he was covered enough to be seen in public. He went over the ideas he had come up with before he fell asleep, trying to figure out the best way to start. He’d decided that he shouldn’t make it into too big a deal. One of the biggest problems they had in their relationship was that everything became so drama filled, every issue so life and death. Kurt could make them a casual dinner and they could hash things out at the dinner table, or they could talk it out over a bowl of popcorn and an episode of Modern Family. He decided he’d see what kind of mood Blaine was in when he saw him. He’d know by the expression on his face when Blaine looked at him which way to lean.

But when Kurt finally came out, mildly styled (because he couldn’t stand what he looked like when he passed by the mirror and saw his epic bed hair), and dressed, he caught Blaine coming out of his own bedroom. He had changed, too, and Kurt was right. He’d gone down to the gym and showered. His hair was mildly damp from it, a few loose curls hanging over his brow, begging for Kurt to brush them away and leave a kiss in their place.

But Kurt couldn’t help noticing that Blaine was dressed nice.

Dressed to go out, he realized, and his stomach turned to lead.

“Oh. Kurt,” Blaine said, doing up the buttons to his coat. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

That didn’t sound entirely honest, but okay. Maybe what Blaine was saying was that he didn’t expect to see Kurt before he left.

“Well, I am,” Kurt said, flashing what he hoped was an inviting smile. “I fell asleep in the shower and almost washed myself straight down the drain, so I thought I should, you know, maybe get some sleep.” Kurt laughed a little too hard. Blaine smiled, albeit uncomfortably. “Wh-where are you heading off to?”

“Oh …” Blaine looked surprised that Kurt wanted to know. Or maybe he was surprised that Kurt was talking to him after everything that happened. “I just … I need to go buy something.” Blaine nodded like that explained everything, but Kurt stared at him blankly, waiting for more. “For tonight.”

“Oh, really?” Kurt’s voice held the tiniest hint of excitement. Maybe he hadn’t pushed Blaine completely away. Maybe they were on the same page. Maybe they could talk this out, come to a consensus, start over again but go slow this time. Maybe they could learn each other anew. They could leave the angst and the hurt behind them and begin fresh, become Kurt and Blaine version 2.0. The more Kurt thought about that possibility, the more he wanted it. “What’s going on tonight?”

“I have … well, I kind of have a … you know … a … sort of … date.”

Kurt stared blankly. He didn’t quite understand what Blaine was saying. Was Blaine asking him out on a date? Because they always called going out a date, but that wasn’t how this sounded. When Kurt did understand it, he couldn’t believe it. How could Blaine have a date? They’d just slept together … Kurt had no idea how many hours before. He wasn’t that savvy as to what time it was. But in that moment, Kurt felt his hope shatter, the last few hours of negotiating, soul searching, and planning on his part rapidly circling the drain.

“A … a date?” Kurt did everything in his power to keep the words from cracking. He raised his eyebrows, trying to think of who Blaine would have met from the time Kurt hopped into the shower until now. “W-with that guy from the bar? The one who threw the drink in your face?”

“No,” Blaine said, shy smile fighting to merge into a more serious expression. “No, the … the guy I was dancing with. Do you remember him?”

“Yeah.” Kurt had only caught a glimpse of the man while he was dancing, but he could picture him clearly – his luminous skin; his bright, white teeth; his huge biceps; his six pack showing through his clingy shirt. “A date?” Kurt sniffed (bitchier than necessary he’d admit to himself later). “Well, we both know what that means, don’t we?”

Blaine looked flabbergasted and hurt by Kurt’s insinuation. “It … it doesn’t have to mean that,” he countered. “It’s only a first date. Who knows if we’re even compatible … that way.”

Kurt shrugged. “Doesn’t matter if it means that or not. It’s an option.” He sat on the sofa. He reached for a magazine off the coffee table and turned to a random page. He wasn’t trying to act aloof.

He needed something to hold on to.

He needed something to hold him together.

“I … I don’t have to go,” Blaine said softly. “I could cancel.”

Kurt didn’t know if Blaine meant it, that he’d rather hang around with a bitchy Kurt as opposed to an attractive man whom he might have a connection with, or if he was offering out of guilt. Either way, Kurt couldn’t let him give up his date.

Bitterness and disappointment had him acting like a jerk, but he couldn’t be that level of jerk.

“We agreed this was a good thing,” Kurt continued, though when they had agreed on it, Kurt was failing to remember. “Besides, it would be rude to cancel this late anyway. You should totally go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Really sure?”

“Really, really sure, Blaine.”

“Alright,” Blaine said, finishing up his coat. “Only if you’re sure.”

“Of course, I’m sure.” (Kurt wasn’t sure) “I’m more than sure. Go. Have fun. But be safe.” Kurt smiled without looking up.

“Alright.” Blaine walked backward toward the door, keeping an eye on Kurt in case he changed his mind. “Goodbye, Kurt.”

“Goodbye, Blaine.” Kurt mindlessly flipped through pages, acting like he was searching for something while he listened to the loft door open, pause, and then slide shut.

Then, Blaine was gone.

And everything started to suck all over again.

The second Kurt heard Blaine’s footsteps fade down the stairs, he got up off the couch and went to the kitchen to make himself dinner, figuring he’d just call it an early night. There was chicken kiev left over from a few nights ago, eggplant lasagna, fettuccine alfredo, all dishes he had chosen with Blaine, prepared with Blaine, and eaten with Blaine. There was nothing in the refrigerator that he didn’t either make with Blaine, buy with Blaine, or buy for Blaine.

He bypassed the fridge entirely and headed straight for the cabinet above, and his long forgotten bottle of tequila.

For the first time in his life, Kurt was going to drink his dinner.

He circled back to the couch, plopped on down, and cracked open his bottle. He figured he’d take a few sips, get a buzz going, and when he felt sedate enough to return to unconsciousness, he’d pour himself back into bed. With any luck, he’d sleep straight through Blaine coming home. Whatever happened on his date, Kurt wouldn’t have the wherewithal to deal with it until morning.

So what if Kurt spent most of his Saturday unconscious? He was an overachiever most of the time. He deserved one throwaway day.

A sip of tequila turned into two sips. Two sips turned into four. Four sips turned into … a whole lot of tequila … but amazingly, none of it was making him sleepy. That was because he kept sabotaging himself. He was trying so hard not to think about Blaine on his date that all he did was think about Blaine on his date. He tried to distract himself with television, but channel after channel torpedoed him with sentimental, romantic movies – The Notebook, Moulin Rouge, Sleepless in Seattle, Love Actually. He almost settled for Titanic, thinking he could find the humor in watching Jack Dawson drown to death, but the second “My Heart Will Go On” began playing, he dissolved into tears. He finally gave up on television and went back to his magazine, but he couldn’t sit still. He changed positions on the couch every three minutes, shifting from cushion to cushion, sitting cross-legged, then with his feet on the floor, with his legs crossed right over left, then left over right, reclining with his feet resting on the coffee table, laying completely flat, until he couldn’t stand it anymore and stood up.

All the while he drank his tequila, hoping that eventually it would work its magic. It did, but not the way Kurt wanted it to. Reaching the half bottle mark became the impetus behind one unfortunate, drunken dial - one that he would later look back on and want to punch himself for, since it contradicted everything he felt about his relationship with this person.

Yup, sulking home alone, wide awake and finally drunk, Kurt did something he wouldn’t be proud of.

Kurt even groaned as he dialed the number, his rational brain reminding him one final time before a swig of tequila rendered it useless for the remainder of the night that most decisions made while drunk are bad ones. Bad, bad, super-bad ones.

But tequila brain convinced Kurt to give it a shot anyway, glossing over all of things he had to lose, like a good friend and his self-respect. (Though, days later, he would send a box of Japanese butt-shaped candy to apologize, along with a card that read, “I’m a big butt, and I cannot lie,” which would be accepted with laughter and a hug.)

The phone rang twice, and a cheerful man answered. “Hey! Kurt! Long time no hear from!”

“I know, I know,” Kurt said, trying not to slur his words. “I’m sorry about that. I should have called earlier.”

“Well, you’re calling now. That’s all that counts,” Adam said. “So, what do I owe this honor?”  

“I was just wondering …” Kurt did his best to flirt without sounding as sloshed as he felt “… if maybe you’d like to come over and hang out.” Kurt’s suggestion was met with silence, so he pushed a little harder. “We haven’t hung out in ages. I miss our Downtown Abbey marathons. I think I’m behind by about three seasons.” Kurt attempted to laugh, but with his throat dry and burning, he ended up coughing instead.

“Okay,” Adam said, unsure. “Forgive me if I’m wrong but aren’t you seeing Blaine?”

“No,” Kurt answered quickly, shaking his head for emphasis even if Adam couldn’t see him. “Not together … no … not at all.”

“So, does that mean that you and he …?”

“Yup. Over.” The words caught in Kurt’s throat. “Over and done with for a while now.”

“A-ha.” Adam sounded unconvinced, but slightly amused. “And you sound smashed out of your gourd because …?”

“I’m not!” Kurt turned away from the receiver to cover a hiccup, and Adam chuckled. “Well, maybe I had a sip or two. I just … I wanted to loosen up a little. You know ...”

Adam went quiet, and Kurt, not eager to make a bigger fool of himself then he knew he was making, went quiet, too. He had lobbed this ball – this deflated, pathetic ball – into Adam’s court. He had to wait and see what Adam would do with it.

“Kurt, I know what you’re doing.”

“What? What am I doing?”

“I told you before, I don’t want to be your rebound. And I definitely don’t want to be your revenge fuck. I care about you too much.”

“You won’t be my rebound, or my revenge fuck,” Kurt promised, hating the way his voice sounded needy and desperate. “I swear.”

“Kurt, I will come over there this instant and make love to you on every hard surface in your loft if you can tell me right now that you are not in love with your ex.”

“I …” Kurt whimpered at the visual of Adam – strong and muscular, but also sweet and tender Adam – making love to him on the floor, against the wall, in his bed, on the sofa (where Blaine would catch them whenever he came back). And he wanted it. He wanted slow, romantic, and even dirty sex all over the loft.

But he wanted it with Blaine.

Kurt couldn’t have that, and probably wouldn’t have that at this point. Blaine was moving on. Didn’t that mean that he should move on, too?

He thought he had, but now he wasn’t so sure.

“I’m … I’m not in love with him,” Kurt persisted. “I …” But he couldn’t get rid of the stammer in his voice, and that had nothing to do with the tequila. It had to do with him insisting on something that his brain and body knew wasn’t true.

“You don’t sound all that convincing, love.”

Kurt sighed. He wanted to put forth a better argument. He wanted to convince Adam, but more than that, he wanted to convince himself. But he couldn’t, and he never felt lower in his life.

“Kurt, you’re a great guy. An amazing guy. Any man would be more than lucky to have you, and I hope I get to be that man one day. So, if we get together, I want it to last. But if I come over now, I don’t think we’ll ever have a chance.”

“You’re … right. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Adam said, sighing like he had hoped for one more objection on Kurt’s part, one more insistence that things were over between him and Blaine. All Adam needed was one more and he’d be on the subway. But Kurt didn’t. “I think it’s safe to say that we’ve all been there. Just … call me when you’re certain this is what you want.”

“Yeah,” Kurt agreed. “Yeah, okay.”

“Goodbye, Kurt.”

“Goodbye, Adam.” Kurt hung up. He put his phone on the coffee table and sat in silence, shame and guilt shoving jealousy over to get a seat at the dysfunctional dinner table.

Kurt wondered how Blaine’s date was going. What were they talking about? What were they doing? What did they have for dinner? (He assumed they’d be eating dinner. It was already – Jesus Christ! Ten o’clock!?) Did they stay in, or did they go out to a movie? Or more drinking and dancing? Did they kiss? And if they did, did Blaine kiss him first? Were they actually having sex? Sex on the first date wasn’t Blaine’s style … except for the time he cheated. But, for argument’s sake, if they were having sex, which Kurt highly doubted, he wondered (selfishly, but still) would Blaine think about him at all?

That was one question that Kurt had had about the night Blaine cheated that he’d never had the courage to ask. Was Blaine thinking about Kurt when he was sleeping with that rando guy from Facebook? Did any thoughts of Kurt pop into Blaine’s head? Did Blaine erase him completely … or had he been there all the time? Was thinking about Kurt, fantasizing about him, the only way Blaine could have sex with someone he didn’t even know? Or was the opposite true?

Thinking about it brought him back to the one day he kept trying to forget but couldn’t. Except this time Kurt had seen the guy. This time he had a frame of reference that made this nightmare more vivid. When he closed his eyes, he saw them together, peeling off each other’s clothes, Blaine’s hands running down his skin, his mouth everywhere, his tongue licking, lapping, caressing …

Kurt knew how it felt, how every single one of Blaine’s kisses felt, every single one of his touches. He felt them on his skin now, remnants from last night and early this morning blazing hot to torment him.

And Kurt couldn’t move.

So Kurt sat on the sofa, staring at the loft door, not because he was necessarily waiting for Blaine to come home, but because time had stopped in Kurt’s head. He got so lost in thinking, visualizing, feeling, and then hating himself, that night became day before Kurt had consciously blinked his eyes.

When he saw Blaine prying the loft door open, trying to do it quietly so he could sneak through, Kurt knew. He just knew. And all of those touches became unbearable, because they didn’t just belong to him. Someone else had them, too.

But Kurt couldn’t blame Blaine.

This was Kurt’s idea.

Kurt had said it was the right thing for both of them. Kurt had said it, and Blaine had agreed. They both agreed, and now Blaine was acting on it. He was doing what Kurt had said he wanted, what Kurt had tried to get him to do the night before.

What Kurt thought he needed in order to get closure.

But it didn’t feel that way anymore.

He didn’t have closure. He had a broken heart.

[adementedfangirl-blog]

Empire of Storms Review

Please note that this post is my opinion and I am not changing it. I would prefer it if you did not argue with me. If you loved Empire of Storms and saw no flaw in it, I suggest you don’t read this.

Spoilers ahead. I’ll try to give some forewarning, but if you have not read EoS, DO NOT READ.

I would like to start out saying that, up to now, I have adored Sarah J. Maas’ writing. I recently started ACOTAR and I’m hooked. The ending of Throne of Glass made my heart pound and my hands tremble; I nearly cried at the end of Heir of Fire; Queen of Shadows had me begging for more. But Empire of Storms, in my not-so humble opinion, was a disappointment.

It started off great, I think. Elena is a great character and I love her. The beginning of the book really helped me connect to her character. I also enjoyed how Aelin was not recognized as Queen of Terrasen.

Then it began to go downhill from there. I hardly remember anything between the beginning and the middle of the book. The writing became monotonous, and Aelin’s melodramatic speeches became exhausting to the point where I was tempted to skip them. (Aelin is an all-powerful force of nature who clawed her way up from darkness, I get it. I don’t need to be told fifteen times)

When the fight scene in Skull’s Bay came, I was practically drooling for more. Lysandra.... holy crap. She was my favorite character already, but I never knew how powerful she really was until now. <Spoiler ahead> I remember reading when Aedion shot the sea wyvern--it was like a movie in my head. I got goosebumps so bad (and it’s even giving me the chills now just thinking about it. Sara J. Maas is amazing at fight scenes. I also enjoyed the fact that Lysandra got some attention for once. Up until then, everybody pretty much drooled over Aelin. It was nice for a change of pace. Sarah J. Maas is incredible at fight scenes, which is mind-boggling, because I downright suck at them. XD

<Spoiler alert> But that change of pace ended quickly, to my chagrin, when the sex scene happened. In all honesty, I was actually looking forward to it because I thought it was going to be a tender, meaningful, and passionate ordeal. I, a probably borderline-asexual individual, was looking forward to Aelin and Rowan’s bedroom scene. I don’t mind sex scenes when they’re well-placed, but PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEEEASE stop turning it into erotica! Nothing led up to the sex scene! Rowan pretty much said, “Wanna do it on a beach?” “Hell yeah!” Like, wouldn’t Aelin get sand in her vagina? And next thing you know, he’s licking her nipples “seductively.” That’s gross, not romantic.

Not to mention it was incredibly cheesy. “Velvet-wrapped steel”... I can’t.

Anyway, I got sick of Aelin mouthing off to ELENA FREAKING HAVILLIARD, THE FIRST QUEEN OF ADARLAN really quick. But that’s just me.

Theeeen Manon came aboard. I predicted that she and Dorian were going to get together, but I was furious when Dorian and Manon pretty much began dating even though they barely knew each other. Then, next thing you know, they’re trynna have sex. What??? It’s like Sorscha was just a tool to make Dorian’s backstory more tragic. It frustrates me because Sorscha was the only normal character in the entire series, and when she died, it’s like she never existed!

<Spoiler alert> Oh, and now it turns out that Manon is a Crochan queen. Whoopty doo. ANOTHER character who can’t be an average human being/Blackbeak witch/whatever. Because a hint of mediocrity is a sin.

It’s precisely that that makes me cringe at this book. I’m an average teenager. I know nothing of royalty and responsibilities over kingdoms. I want a character who is the same way, and the only few characters who fit those (right off the top of my head, anyway) are Chaol, Nesryn, Nox (btw, where is Nox?), and Luca (I hope we get to see Luca again).

AND SPEAKING OF SEEING PEOPLE, WHERE IS CHAOL????

I get that he went to Torre Cesme, but I at least wanted to have a couple chapters dedicated to Chaol. Is he okay? The heck is happening? I miss him. He’s one of the few characters I feel a strong connection to.

I read an EoS review that said that Chaol is a main character (like Ron, Hermione, and Harry); you can go a short period of time without them, but enough is enough. And I completely agree.

<Spoiler ahead> I must say, though, I enjoyed the ending very much. I was up at 11:00 on a school night trying to finish the book, restraining myself from crying. “Where is my wife?” ... I about burst into tears the same time Lorcan did. (Lorcan is now my precious baby, tbh) I love how everyone ended on bad terms, especially Aedion and Lysandra.

Speaking of Lorcan, I actually enjoyed Elide and Lorcan’s romance. Lorcan became my favorite character in this book. I’d been waiting for the day that I would be able to connect to him. I also enjoyed Elide and Lorcan’s first kiss. It was very well-placed and I read that scene over and over again.

Back to ranting. How did Aelin suddenly master her powers when, back in Wendlyn, she could barely hold her own against Rowan?? On top of that, she hadn’t been able to train with her powers throughout the entirety of Queen of Shadows. How did she suddenly become as good as Rowan Whitethorn, a Fae male who has had centuries of training and preparation??? He trained under LORCAN SALVATERRE for a DECADE. It’s like she never struggles anymore.

Another thing: why does everyone in that series have to be unrealistically gorgeous? I’m just a short, average-looking, acne-covered teenager. It’s hard to relate to any of the characters, looks-wise. I don’t have ginormous boobs, big lips, and bright-colored eyes. I thought Elide was a breath of fresh air when I first read about her, but NOPE. She just HAS to have enormous tits, despite probably being underfed for a good long while, doesn’t she?

I wish Fenrys and Gavriel would’ve gotten more attention. I liked them. Lol. Same thing with Arobynn Hamel. <Spoiler alert> I wish he wouldn’t have died so quickly. He had so much potential. What was his backstory? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him fight, either, which is also disappointing.

In conclusion, Empire of Storms had a spellbinding ending and one dazzling fight scene, but the rest was mush. Sarah J. Maas should quit the unnecessary romances and stick to her trump card: fight scenes. Sorry if this review was really messy. I’ve been holding this in for a while now for fear that people would attack me for it.

[akocomyk]

Bittersweet ‘16

Happy 600th Post to My Blog!  And what more brilliant way to celebrate it than doing...

My Annual Blog for the 10 Most Memorable Moments of the Year

That’s a rather nice title I’ve thought for this post.  It’s very fitting for all the things that happened to me the entire year.

Did I ever mention that “bittersweet endings” are my most favorite among all story endings?  And it’s always the type of ending that I try to achieve on any story that I write because I think they give a very good reflection of what it is to be alive.

Too much drama.  Ha ha!  Anyway, this is a tough year for me—for my life and for my choosing of the top ten.  I really didn’t know how to rank the 17 contending memories.  Very few clearly stood out over the rest, but the others were almost the same for me.  They’re toe-to-toe in my mind and in my heart.  I even resorted into having my own criteria and giving them scores just to provide a ranking—as opposed to what I did in the past years where I just ranked them by how I feel.  To be fair, I gave them scores to what I honestly felt with those memories.

The problem is it’s hard for me to say goodbye to the memories that I would’ve wanted to immortalize through this silly blog of mine.  All these memories... I want to read them a few years from now, then I’ll laugh at what I wrote but still feel a good sense of nostalgia.

In a designer’s life, there’s a phrase, “Kill your own babies,” meaning if you’re asked to design something, you have to do several studies of it and no matter how much you like most of them, you have to accept the fact that only one will be used, hence you have to kill your other babies.

I don’t want to kill the babies that are in contention for this list.  They’re all too valuable.  But I have to choose… Here they are:

(Ratings are scaled from 1–10.  Derived from overall total of scores) 

My 22nd Birthday (January 22-29) 

RATING: 7.9

As I can recall, this is the first time that my birthday celebration was included in the top ten list.  It’s been a contender since I started this series but I always thought that the memory was dispensable and the list would be better off without it.  Even until now!  I was very reluctant on putting it here—you can easily tell by the low score.  But I guess it’s time that I finally include it.

Nevertheless, I think this memory deserves its spot here.  This is the first time that I celebrated my birthday without my mother and the first time that I celebrated my birthday with LBC.

It started on January 22. (Friday), the day that I had to finish the layout of our company magazine because it was long overdue.  I stayed at the office until 11:00 in the evening.  I couldn’t do it the following day because my sister, our friend, Joanne, and I have a lunch out as a celebration for my birthday.

I had a severe cold during those days.  I could use up to two rolls of tissue—can you believe that?  I couldn’t even smell or taste anything.

We had lunch at Todd English at SM Aura—my first time there.  My sister’s treat.  Believe me when I say this, their food is one of the best I’ve ever tasted in my entire life—especially that chocolate dessert that I forgot the name.

Fast forward on the 27th, my team had a little surprise for me waiting at my table when I got to the office.  I was planning on not doing anything fun that day because I’m still depressed, but our team had lunch at Shakey’s, courtesy of my very kind Manager (and I was given a free sundae!).

Through the encouragement of, still, my Manager we had another celebration for dinner at Ontiveros—a grill restaurant at Nichols.

Fast forward again on the 29th, when I used my Birthday Leave.  I blogged about that day, calling it as my favorite day of the year so far.  It still is… or not… but surely, it’s one of my most memorable days of the year.  You can find out more about that day by clicking this link.

Saving Sally & I’ll Give You The Sun (December 27-28)

RATING: 8.2

This is a bunch of unexpected things:

No. 1  I didn’t expect that these two things would be soooooo related to me—and on a certain point-of-view, related to each other.  For those who don’t know, Saving Sally is a live-action animated indie film—an entry to the 2016 MMFF—and I’ll Give You The Sun is a Printz Award-winning novel by Jandy Nelson.  A thing they have in common in relation to me is that on the first time I knew about them, I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist watching or reading them.  I was like this, “OMAYGAAASH I WANNA F*CKING READ THAT.” or “OH MY DEAR GULAY I’M GONNA KILL MYSELF IF I DON’T SEE THAT ON THEATERS.”

Anyway, you get the point.

No. 2  I didn’t expect that I would watch and read them in close proximity.  Like I started reading the novel on December 27, watched the film on the same day, and then finished reading the novel on the 28th.

No. 3.  These two gave me hangovers.  Movie Hangover.  Book Hangover.  I dreaded the point when the two ended.  In a short span of time, I was able to invest myself emotionally to the two works, mainly because I can easily relate to the characters—the character of Marty in Saving Sally more than the others..  You know why?  THEY ARE EFFIN’ ARTISTS!

YES!  And both of the works provided an insight to what it is to be an artist… What it is to be someone like me.  “What’s bad for the heart is good for art,” as stated in I’ll Give You The Sun.  That phrase sums up how artists can make crazily beautiful things.  The things that hurt us, or the things that give an enormous impact on our lives... they are what make us do beautiful works.  It shows the truth that art dwells so much in emotion and storytelling.

Why do people think my caricatured characters are cute and funny?  Why do people laugh, cry, or get irritated when they read my stories?  Why did people think the song I wrote for my mom was sad but beautiful?  Why do you think my cover of “Oo” by Up Dharma Down is… like one of my best covers?  (Because I was in love… and I was hurt. HA!)

In my case, I’m not a very extroverted person.  I’m very sensitive.  I can feel things—maybe more than any normal person—but I don’t like showing them.  But I do show and express them through my works.  That’s what I’m good at… that’s what all artists are good at, expressing what’s inside our hearts, sharing our stories to the world through our wonders and letting them feel what we feel.

Buying My Own Phone (May 22)

RATING: 8.3

I have a loooooong history of lost phones.  Slipped off from my pocket.  Left it somewhere.  Slipped off from my pocket.  Dropped it someplace.  Slipped.  Slipped.  Slipped and lost.

Because of this, almost all of the phones that I used were handed down to me either by my sister, mother, or my father.

For the first time ever, using a part of my savings together with my 13th month pay, I bought my own!  One heck of an achievement, right?

Anyway, my favorite part about this is now, I can take pictures whenever or wherever I want to, or use Facebook… and Instagram.  Yes.  Instagram.  Or recently, Snapchat.

One more thing, if I just want to blend in the modern, soulless crowd, I’d take just take my phone out and then pretend like I’m doing something…  That’s how easily one can blend in nowadays.

Writing My First Song (May 9-13)

RATING: 8.4

I've been vocal here on my blog about how much I wanted to write my own songs. I'm a singer... I'm a writer... Put them together and I can perfectly be a songwriter. I just had to have that right inspirational drive.

And there's my mother's passing... I suddenly wanna do all sorts of things I first didn’t have the courage to.

There’s this songwriting contest in LBC. It was our employee engagement activity for Mother’s Day.  I joined the contest.

Every night for an entire week, I’d work on writing the song. I just held onto my ukulele, plucked some chords, and let my mind drift away to put in some letters on the notes.  Frankly, I didn’t know what I was doing… I didn’t know if I was doing good or bad, or something that’s downright cheesy.  But all that I’m telling to myself is that I’m doing this for my mother… I’m doing this for my mother.

And then the song was finished.  I recorded it and the accompanying video, submitted it… and I won the contest.

A lot of my friends thought the song was really good and highly addictive—you know, they had the song on repeat for an entire day.  (Thanks, guys!)  Well… I admit, what I wrote was pretty catchy albeit with sad undertones.

Listening to it now, I think the song really is cheesy, and ugly, and the worst song I could’ve done in my entire life—yeah, it’s sweet because I wrote it for my mother, but I’m being seriously critical here.  Well, I can’t help it.  This is a natural phenomena for me in any work that I do—at first I thought I did my best and what I did was really beautiful, and then I suddenly go on a 180-degree turn after a period of time.

What’s more memorable here is the part where I finally conquered my fear of trying to write my own songs.  After doing this one, I actually had more ideas about what songs to write next.  They just started popping in my head, one after the other.  I play the guitar and suddenly I’m making up my own chord progressions.

The ideas are still there.  I just don’t have time to create them.  But who knows?  A few days from now, maybe I’d post my second original song.

Having My Own Ukulele (March 8)

RATING: 8.5

I’ve always wanted to have my own ukulele ever since I fell in love with Jack Johnson’s music.  I also thought that some songs I wanted to cover are better played with a ukulele than a guitar.

Thanks to my father, I now have one! Well… not one, but two!  For the first time ever in my conscious teenage-to-adult life, my father gave me something that I really wanted to have.

I don’t know if this is his move on trying to have a closer relationship with me since he’s now the only parent I have.  Or this could just be his way of showing how proud he is that I turned out almost just like him—guitar-playing, music-loving, a good singer... (really?).

Whatever reason he may have had for buying me these two babies of mine—take note, he bought it when he no longer has a stable job, and I don’t know where he got the money—I am very grateful for it.

I just wish my mother could’ve heard me playing it.

Attempted Resignation (November 4)

RATING: 9.0

This is my usual rant here on my blog.  I wanted to resign.  Wait… let’s change that to present tense.  I want to resign.  There aren’t many reasons why I want to, but a huge one is my sense of belonging.  I’ve always felt like an outcast there.  I’m different and everyone notices.  It makes me feel like I’m a pest lingering amidst their vision.

Anyway, I did submit a resignation—two versions, an artistic one, and a boring formal one.  This resulted to my supervisor’s three sleepless, crying-a-river-of-tears nights.

She talked to me one day… and blah blah blah… yada yada yada… Big Boss wanted to stop me from leaving… Money is not my source of happiness, but let’s see…  And I retracted my letter.  For her… For my team… Partly for myself.  I know I’ll be difficult to replace.  I’m not trying to boast, but that’s the truth.

For now, I’m trying to drown myself with materialistic happiness.

Winter Solstice Party with HS Loves (December 22)

RATING: 9.2

My College Buddies—who are now nowhere to be found—started a Christmas tradition last 2014.  It’s some sort of exchange gifts activity, only you have to give each one in the group a gift (there were four of us, meaning I had to give three gifts).  Since my college buds are no longer around, I suggested the tradition to my high school best friends.  And they agreed!

I wanted it to be something like… give whatever you want, regardless of price or kind… but they’re like… there should be a price and a wish list. Everyone agreed to the latter so... it didn’t matter, as long as it’s what makes us happy. Ha ha!

Memorable parts…

Thinking of wishes.  They spent daaaaaays deciding what to wish for.  (I spent five minutes)

Finding the gifts.  Each one of us exerted different amounts of effort just to find the wish.  We all have a story on how we found each gift.  I had to buy something online or coincidentally find a one-day sale.  The others had to go through all known bookstores or toy stores.  There are so much other stories.  It was so tiring but it was also very... fun! 

The dinner.  Yes… that dinner.  That dinner where it wasn’t really much of a get-together dinner but more of an I-came-here-first-and-I’m-so-hungry-imma-order-and-eat-now-while-waiting dinner.

The exchanging of gifts.  You know the difference with this and the one with my college buds?  This giving and unwrapping was just genuinely fun… and happy… and light… and very Christmas-y.  It was fun guessing what the gifts are and telling how the giver got the gift while it was being unwrapped.   Everything just feels so bright.  The one with my college buds was a bit of a head-scratcher.

Cluedo!  And we’re now fanatics of the board game.

Alone & Happy Moments + Compulsive Buying of Things (Throughout the Year)

RATING: 9.3

Okay.  So… this is a trend that softly started last year, went all throughout this year, and will probably go on until this year.  It was even in last year’s list, if you can remember, ranking 10th with the name, “Watching Movies On My Own”.

Never in my life have I felt so alone, but sometimes there’s that sentimental feeling on being alone that at first glance would make you think it’s really sad but in reality doesn’t seem so sad at all.  I even made a series of blogs about those times—and I regret not being able to blog them all because they’re all unique and nostalgic memories.

This memory is like the perfect representative of this list.  It’s very bittersweet.

For this year, I just started going to the mall on my own quite frequently, maybe more than two times a week.  Most of the time, I’m just at SM Mall of Asia, trying to eat something new or something that I really like, going through the shelves of Fully Booked or National Bookstore, and browsing the stores for some clothes that I may want to buy.  Watching movies on my own is still there, and I don’t even remember how many movies I have watched on my own for the entire year.  It’s like a paradox.  You’re with a lot people but you’re alone.  You get what I mean?  I just love that feeling.

A tiny little perk of having no one to support is that all the money you earn is yours.  Having realized this, I bought anything that caught my attention during those times, particularly things that I’ve always wanted to buy before but was never able to because of our family’s financial burdens.  Watercolors, brushes, tons of books, sketchpads, art materials, clothes, and shoes.

It’s funny how I love dwelling inside the ironies of my life.  Alone yet not alone.  Lonely yet still happy.  I get what I want but somehow there’s still something missing.  Bittersweet memories.

But you know what?  No matter how much I love possessing both opposing qualities brought up by being alone, I do sometimes think that it would be better if I do the things that would make me happy if someone else is with me.  I’d like to share my happiness, you know?

This isn’t me asking the heavens for a girlfriend, okay?  I’m being honest here.  I just wish there’s someone…

Walwalan Night with HS Loves (Nov. 18-19)

RATING: 9.5

Euphoric.  That is how one of my friends described this event.  Because… it was!  You can tell simply by how much we wanted to do it again, no matter what it takes!  I seriously felt sooo lonely when it was over.

Bottles of Alcohol.  Good food.  Good friends.  Good acoustic music.  Good sleep (?).  And that high feeling.  It’s just… Ahhhh.  OH!  And that part where everyone just started talking… INCLUDING ME!  Like for the first time ever, I spoke up and a huge, missing chunk of my mysterious life was immediately revealed.

Yes.  Finally!

(Just a tip for those who want to break my silence.  If you want me to release my extroversion, give me some alcohol.)

And I like it… It seems like this night was all meant for me even though it was never meant to be, but just look at how high it placed on this list.

It’s nice that they knew about that.  At least, I won’t be keeping it to myself anymore while they’re around.  At least, I can now make fun of myself and make inside jokes with that topic.

I just love this memory.  I really, really do.  I’ll never get tired of replaying it inside my head.

Mama’s Death on the start of 2016 (January 5)

RATING: 9.8

Another death of a loved one that topped the list.  This time, my mother.  It’s nearly one year now.

So much has changed since then, except for one detail.  I still haven’t cried because of her death.  I cried for a book or a movie, but never for my mother.

January 1, 2016.  My mother was admitted to the hospital because she had a difficulty in breathing.  She couldn’t sleep.  The doctors checked her and they found out that her cancer has metastasized to her lungs, drastically that only a very small portion of her left lung can be used.  It has also affected the heart, and the liver.  There isn’t anything they can do aside from aiding her with her breathing and lessening the pain.

January 5, 1:00 A.M.  My sister talked to me, telling me that my mother only has a few hours left.  She asked me if she should be transferred to a different hospital, or should we just let her be, telling me that it’s difficult to make such decisions when you don’t have enough money.  I couldn’t reply anything to her.  The only thing I wanted to do then was hand over to her my copy of the novel A Monster Calls.

I couldn’t sleep that night, thinking that my mother could die any minute.

In the morning, we rushed to the hospital.  She was still alive.  I said to myself, “I knew my mother won’t let go without seeing me for the last time.”  It’s the only assurance I had the previous night that allowed me to sleep for an hour.

Mama spoke these words to me, “Mahal na mahal ko kayong dalawa ng ate mo.  Huwag niyong pababayaan ang isa’t isa.  Huwag kayong mag-aaway.  Hindi ko kayo iiwan.  Hindi ko kayo iiwan.”

Some time around 10:30 AM, my mother dies.

It’s amazing how one year can become a really bizarre adventure that can change one’s life.  A year is a very short span of time, mind you.

There are a lot of firsts this year, I must say.  A lot of fun and a lot of drama, as well.  Bittersweet, right?

The year 2016 taught me so much.  Most of the lessons are written here in my blog and they do not belong in this conclusion.  Can I say that I’m a better person?  I don’t think so.  I’m gonna let the people who care for me judge that.

And to those people who care for me and love me along with my atrocities and eccentricities, thank you for making my year better just by sticking around and not letting go... not forgetting.  You don’t know how much you mean to my life.

Let’s continue making the adventures of our lives feel like no other.

There are seven other memories that would’ve have been included in this list but were not because, like I said, I only need ten.  I’m gonna put a single blog post for each of them one of these days, just to satisfy my regret for not having them included in this list.

For the meantime, I’ll just continue putting more sh*t on my blog.

Thanks for reading this far!

[smoothintheshell]

Another text in the “Vanessa complains about problems she doesn’t have”. Feel free to ignore :D.

Before I start, please do not take this post as an insult. This is how I do things and in no way reflects how I think of others. Thank you.

(I’m writing this with shortness of breath and trying not to cry)

Effortless

I’ve always been the loser of the class, of the group. In everything, really. I’ve always been slower than others to learn, even when I sacrificed free time to do homework and all that jazz. Nope. Wasn’t good enough. For a while people would praise me for my hard work and even when grades were average or lower, they would say “don’t give up! you’ll do better next time”.

Until college. Then I got fed-up and basically gave up on working hard. I didn’t apply any effort to anything I produced; would only finish projects the night before handing in; would be the one in the group that does nothing. (NOTE: I have been from the one that does everything to the one that does nothing). As soon as this happened, suddenly I was the laziest person around. People even more lazy than me would get complements. But no. Not me. All the time I put effort in something turned into smoke, and any attempt at bringing them back turned into “excuses, excuses”. So I ultimately gave up on trying to talk to people. Oh, and all this includes my parents. You can see where my motivation comes from (sarcasm intended).

Gaming and contemplating life

I made the mistake of talking to people in a general channel on Discord. I made the mistake of viewing a game review. I made the mistake of trying to be a part of one of the biggest communities in the gaming industry. Because I saw people who shared similar interests; who where nice to each other; who respected each other. And yet, they were all treated as garbage because of a fraction of that community that insists on what content can be shown. And it isn’t their game.

Since I started to release mods, when Dragon Age: Inquisition was able to be modded, I’ve found myself contemplating on who I actually am.

See, no offense to people who like realism in games, but I’m ugly as fuck. I’m also fat, bad hair and I’m practically a bitch if you push me too hard. So whenever I play an RPG like Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Skyrim, to name a few, I want that pure black eyeshadow and eyeliner; the smooth long hair; a fit body; a great personality. I feel like a hero when playing these games. That’s the main reason as to why I don’t have an OC or anything related. Because these characters I “make” are basically an enhanced and perfect version of myself. With different names (since I don’t like mine so much), different hair colors, hairstyles. Why? I can’t use makeup for too long otherwise my face gets heavy. I have to spend money just so my hair is less puffed. Among other exciting things about myself (again, sarcasm intended). If I wanted realism in games then I might as well not play. Because I have terrible skin, wrinkles etc. Oh, and let’s not forget falling in love, having sex etc.

Why did I mention the above? Because every discussion I’ve seen about games is related to characters, graphics, story etc. I honestly do not know how people can do reviews. I have no knowledge on hardware, writing etc and yet people can produce content that is at a professional level. You guys are wizards, witches, whatever. I cannot go into a game and say “Oh, the story is bad. I felt a redundancy here and there”. I honestly can’t. Or even say, “The graphics are shit because they use sprites for backgrounds so that’s all fake”.

I graduated in Game Design in 2015. So I have a paper that says that I have the ability to develop games. No, I don’t. I hate animating. Not animations. ANIMATING. Meaning that I’d rather carry boxes here and there than sit in front of a computer and rig a 3D model. Yes, that’s how much I hate it. I can also understand the other side of the playing field.

All of the above have led me to a spiral in which I have absolutely no idea as to who I am. I can’t sink deep into a game, book, movie. I just can’t. Don’t get me wrong, I do react emotionally to most of them but I can’t simply criticize media because of how I feel. And while many people are attached to the characters they create, I have no personal attachment to mine. I didn’t sit and think “Ok. He’s her past. What she wants to be”. I simply create a face. And think of myself as that character I just created. But that only stays in-game. Leading me to the absolute questions: who am I? Do I have feelings? Am I cold-hearted for having no emotional attachment to a character I create?

To try and sum things up...

Everyone I follow has a dream. Has a life. A job. Something there good at. Friends. Family. A future.

I’m 28 years old and I have no idea as to who I am; who I want to become; what I want to do; what I want to be; I complain about my psychological problems but where do they come from if I’m nobody? I could blame all the bullying I suffered. It’s 90% of who I’ve become. I’ve been in the back seats for most of my life. And I fear coming to the front. Because I can’t deal with pressure. If someone hates me, I cry and break down. It isn’t easy to ignore. It takes time. Especially when your alone.

All the medication I take won’t erase this empty feeling I have. I can’t stop it. I don’t know how to stop it. I feel out of place here. As if I should have never gotten out of my hole. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret meeting the people I did in these past years. I love you guys so much. I only regret that I’m not the kind of person you thought I was. That I’m not the friend I should be. Because I have no experience in life.

I’m stuck in a rock and a hard place where I can’t see what versions of me are available. I can’t see the path.

(Yes, enormous rant. But if I didn’t write this down, I would have a panic attack. And I don’t want my mom seeing me like this. She already has enough problems)