#in a way that i think the fearful journal entries would not have been able to translate directly to film

[lady-buggerinton]

My Top Five Polin Scenes in Part One (and why!)

My darling gossipers, so far this show is making literally all of my hopeless romantic dreams for this couple come true and who knows what kind of angst and drama were in for in part two, so before things gets too real I just wanted to go into (too much) depth on my favorite scenes and a few swoon-worthy details from part one! *whips reigns on carriage* shall we?

5. Drawing Room Lesson/Journal

Pen's brain: TOUCH ALERT! HIS HAND IS ON MY BACK.

This scene is so best friend coded with the way they are bantering and flirting the whole time. There's an adorable contrast between Penelope's fear of being discovered and Colin being like it's chill!(when in fact it is not Chill because they get interrupted after 5 minutes of gazing into each others eyes)

He just clearly wanted to be completely alone and behind closed doors platonically with his very beautiful friend (who looks like an angel in this scene) to pretend they are courting. Nothing suspicious about that!

I love how he's so into the lesson to the point that he has set out the lemonade as a prop and brought her to Bridgerton house in the first place specifically because she said it was where she was most comfortable (previously, but he's doing his best, and probably hoping she will become comfortable again, ouch)

Colin being the "dashing suitor" for her to flirt with (loser) and when she's resistant to fake flirting with him he hits her with the, "you don't have to be embarrassed, you know me!" trying to put her at ease. And he succeeds! Penelope is so comfortable during this scene when she's opening up about how it's hard for her to get her personality across, it's so sweet and honest.

And this is when the ROMANCING really starts, I love how it's Penelope who takes the lead here. mostly by accident, but the poor man is still left in shambles.

I do kind of wish for this scene they had gone with a more back and forth flirting moment, and seen them both get a little taste of how overtly flirting with each other would feel rather than her little poetic moment, but it was sweet to see her expose a corner of her feelings for him and watching him get a tad flustered at the compliment.

Ok, while it was rather uncool of her to read his journal, I love this part so much. Because I am no better, I would 100 percent do this given the chance. Her examining the space where he spends time, her running her hand over his pirate coat, (who wouldn't) the quiet yearning of that action. As a snoop myself, this was wish fulfillment.

Penelope being hit with a confusing mix of jealousy and intrigue by the contents of the journal entry, the way she stops reading for just a second and then gives in and devours his writing, not being able to hold back from getting inside his head. Don't think about how she probably missed his letters.

Colin's anger here is warranted, and I liked how he didn't come across as aggro-angry Colin from the books but is still justifiably upset that his privacy has been violated. He is likely aware that there are certain DETAILS he wouldn't want her to be reading, like how he's a lonely lonely sad little man trying to be rakish and roguish because his beautiful platonic friend isn't writing him back and encouraging him like she usually does.

Can I just mention that bandaging a wound is an excellent trope and it's such a good romancing vehicle: the care, the tenderness, the touching! the GRUMPINESS! But my favorite thing about the wound bandaging is his reaction to her complimenting his work, of which he hasn't shown ANYONE. He's just so shocked that she likes it, and clearly starved for her encouragement/anyone to be interested in his travels.

I think its also worth noting that this is THE moment that Colin thinks back to when he's considering activating his chaos tendencies by rolling up to the red ball to interrupt her proposal, so I'm gonna interpret that as him recalling his first realization/admittance to himself that he has feelings for her beyond friendship.

It wouldn't surprise me since it is after this moment that we see the hints of jealousy start to manifest at the full moon ball (looking for her, asking her if she likes a suitor, he's not subtle with it). Can't blame him, he was just touched with intimacy and care, and told his creative outlet is well-written, he is being ROMANCED to the max and he can't handle it.

We also have our first "please" as Pen asks to help, and as we will see, these two can't say no to each other once the magic word is spoken! I hope this theme makes a comeback in part two (please please please)

4. Market Scene

ok, besides a semi-silly looking wig on Colin (reshoots) this scene is first of all, so beautiful.

SHE IS SO FINE IN THIS SCENE I CAN'T EVEN THINK. She looks like a preraphaelite painting and I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.

I literally kept saying "wow" out loud. It actually makes the scene very silly to me because she keeps talking about how she'll never snag a husband and I'm over here on one knee begging for a chance.

If Penelope has been Colin's cheerleader and #1 supporter for their whole friendship, this is where that flips. This scene is all about Pen feeling dejected about her prospects and Colin trying to lift her spirits -basically by saying she doesn't need to work on anything because he already likes her so much without her doing anything but I digress!

There is nothing hotter than your crush talking about a shared memory! Literally nothing! You can see her absolutely light up here when he talks about their first meeting like "I can't believe he remembered" and "Shit, I'm trying to not be in love" and it makes me ache for her.

I am very sad we didn't get a meet cute flashback (hello romcom!!) but this was the next best thing. He's also definitely still in Rake Mode with the way he is being charming and flirty, but there is a core of genuine feeling here as he is trying to get her find her confidence and be more like the non-self conscious children they once were. I believe a lot of the rift between them was directly because she had such strong feelings for him and couldn't just connect with him as friends due to the pedestal she put him on, this scene shows that without that as a barrier, they are able to connect much more naturally.

"Living for the estimation of others is a trap, once you break free the world opens up," he says, and he's starting to realize this idea but hasn't quite put it into practice. I think seeing Penelope struggling to be something she's not, just like he is, shows him how it's not working for either of them. This I think kickstarts his self-reflection and eventual rejection of external pressures later on, leaving him open to pursue other passions.

Ok but what I LOVE most in this scene is his subtle digging for information about her that she isn't forthcoming with. He asks her why she wants a husband and where she feels most comfortable, peppering her with questions and also giving her zero personal space. He's very curious about her and what is going on inside, but she's not exactly open with him at this point, giving short and simple answers.

She's genuinely not used to someone asking her this many questions about herself, receiving this kind of devoted attention, and she clearly doesn't know quite how to respond. In fact, the dynamic has always been reversed, where she was encouraging and inquiring about him, so this switch is just excellent. there have been little moments throughout the series where he asks about her and she always seems to deflect to talking more about him, so it's nice to see this shift.

Also fun detail, the grecian statues behind them are a little nod to the eros and psyche vibes of the scene as cupid is trying to find a match for his psyche, but is slowly beginning to fall for her, his curiosity the first step towards total downfall.

When he asks about Eloise is where Pen just completely shuts down and says she has to leave, and the "before we are noticed" with the little smile? I have fallen in love. She's clearly using that as an excuse to dodge the question, and it is almost an inside joke, sadly. As if she's saying "No one would believe you are courting me anyway haha". And yet he's clearly bummed she's leaving, he was having such a good time, and she leaves him hanging, wanting to know more. I also absolutely love the Rae side eye, lethal!

3. Candy Tent

Post-kiss insanity is on full display here. The way she beckons him with a sexy head tilt and he came running, the way his hands give away his nervousness and his eyes keep locking on her helplessly. Just FULL ON crush mode. The soft "How are you?" he missed her!

Also outfits are incredible here, the pearls in the hair, the painted vest, Colin inventing the color brown, it's a rococo dream. The plushy pink of the tent, the ambiance, everything is just in a word: sumptuous? never used that but it feels right here.

Pen's giddiness here is just adorable, she's experiencing blatant interest for the first time and I couldn't be happier for her. But someone else is very peeved, indeed. He's trying to play the part of supportive friend while also just kind of feeling a lot of "confounding feelings"

The way he is trying to be so casual and attempting to keep up his swagger, but his true feelings are showing through BAD kind of harkens back to how Pen would interact with Colin in s1 and 2, with barely contained affection and hope. The script has been FLIPPED and it feels so good!!

I literally squeal every time he asks her if she's formed an attachment to Debling, this is the shit I signed up for!! Her saying Debling is not "unpleasant to gaze upon" and watching Colin just completely glitch out with jealousy. He's like AND WHAT ABOUT ME! Must be frustrating to be the most eligible bachelor of the season, and yet your very beautiful crush friend is complementing another man on his looks. When your crush expresses interest in someone it can be truly insanity inducing, so I feel for him here.

Pen is oblivious completely, she doesn't think any of what she is saying is negatively affecting him, in fact she thinks this news will make him happy! His lessons worked, she didn't care about being perceived and it is having the desired affect! and yet, he's miserable. Mission accomplished unsuccessfully if you will.

He does ALMOST a good job of hiding his feelings, but if Pen were not completely convinced he couldn't have feelings for her, I think she would've picked up on the vibes here. He's way less enthusiastic about the lessons, and is giving fairly curt responses, when before he was yapping on about being yourself and such.

Then of course the blatant staring at her mouth, being the yearning sort of man he is and likely recalling their kiss in detail, reminder it's been at least a week since. She's romancing him without even trying. It also makes sense for "food motivated" Colin to have Penelope + cake equals critical override of his facial expressions and his literally standing there slack-jawed with lust.

His soft "good luck", when she leaves and the fact that he doesn't mean it AT ALL.

I've seen it talked about, but it makes a lot of sense that Penelope wasn't as affected by the kiss as he was. I'm sure she enjoyed it, but for her the kiss was an end (more on that later) and for him it was the moment he admitted his feelings (which were already growing slowly). so it makes sense the yearning is very colin-sided in this scene.

Apart from the yearning, it's also just sweet to see them in cahoots and discussing this development with Debling like its a little group project, and its the perfect scene to show Down Bad Colin, and I love it. She also clearly wants him to share with her in her success, still wanting to be close to him in any way she can, which if I think about too much I'll cry.

Bonus points for him eating the cake later on, such an intimate detail, he just wants to be close to her in any way he can. CRIMINAL! ARREST HIM!

2. First kiss/Dream Sequence

Ok I'm combining these scenes because they happen back to back and sort of like a mirror of each other, sue me. This first kiss scene is, as Whistledown says, RECKLESS. It's nonsensical, it's desperate, and it's beautiful.

This scene has only improved upon rewatches, it really has everything. Best kiss scene on Bridgerton and possibly in anything ever? no doubt no doubt?

The silly back and forth on the "You're not going to die" and the way she doesn't back down when he seems to get embarrassed, but instead says what? The Magic Word! "Please" she says, which of course is both of their activation word. His expressions here definitely mirror the book, where as soon as she asks him to kiss her, he's a bit taken aback by how much he realizes he wants to already.

This is such a low moment for Penelope, and it's one parts embarrassing and two parts brave of her to ask him to kiss her. In her position, she doesn't even have her pride left, so why not ask the boy you love to kiss you? nothing will come of it anyway, and he probably won't even do it, so why not ask? And what are friends for!

then the moment comes, and the music swells, as does the tension as he closes the distance between them, her shocked face and shallow breaths as she realizes its actually going to happen, the way he lifts her face to his with his hand under her chin. It's just pure romance. and this thing between them, this space that has never been crossed, is being crossed, and it feels insane. reckless. intimate!!

What I love is the shot that focuses on his face after they deepen the kiss, he's intent and confused by how good this feels, how little like kindness this is for him as soon as their lips touch. Like we will see later, he just kind of mind-blanks and forgets what is happening.

Whatever he thought they were has just crumbled with this kiss, and he leans his forehead against hers, no awkwardness when there is such tenderness. which is why he's so shook when she whispers "thank you", and rushes off. he's like "wait why is she thanking me? where am I? weren't we doing something here?" The hopeful strings as it focuses on his dumbstruck face, the earth literally shifting under his feet in that moment. UNREAL.

THE DREAM: I won't say a lot about the dream sequence but I just had to throw it in here because it shows how aligned they are romantically. They are both HUGE romantics, and he has orchestrated this sort of do-over kiss where he's really going for it and proving to her that he wants this too, he wants her. And she's enjoying herself, clearly, which we know is something Colin wants more than anything. It's a great way to show his inner feelings with the lack of an inner monologue that a book brings. And this is clearly a sort of parody of Bridgerton itself, or at least the books. It's over the top, a little silly, and exactly what we all want to see.

This dream also isn't just ripping off clothes, it's emotional, a key element is him expressing how he's been thinking about her, consumed by her. This kiss also isn't as innocent and patient as the first kiss, and it's full of Reciprocation, she can't stop thinking about him either. AND NEITHER CAN I!!!

Both of these kiss scenes also set up our contrasting feelings, where Pen views their first kiss as an end of a dream, a bittersweet act to finally let go off him, the dream of him. And then his dream shows the opposite, how she's ignited something in him that begins his dream of her, awake and asleep. Dream-swap! Also the hand on the wall behind her to catch her from hitting the wall. no comment.

1. Carriage Scene

Yeah like what can I say! It's incredible! I honestly have no idea how they can top this scene, but honestly if this is the best love scene they share in the season I am 10000% content. All of my little qualms with how they did the season melt away when I watch this scene because this was what was crucial to nail and they NAILED IT. TO THE WALL BABY. YAY.

And how did he gain access to the carriage (and Penelope)?? by saying please!! we love the magic word!! I do like the confession a lot, especially the "what if I did have feelings for you?" and the way he gets to his KNEES, a truly inspired moment.

How he completely dies inside when she says they are friends, and still accepts it with grace. There were SO many obstacles to him expressing his feelings to her this night, and he just red rovered each one, and we are all very grateful.

Something about this scene is just built different, I like a lot of the love scenes in the show, but this one has some kind of secret ingredient that we didn't know we'd been missing. Maybe its the location, the context, the way they are just grasping at each other desperately (which if you think about how Penelope thought this was a one time thing in the books and she wanted to make the most of it, actually don't think about that)

He's also just so sweet about it, he's not angry, or insistent, he's just honest and intent. and she's just bewildered and INTO IT.

The lightning is gorgeous, the way it looks like Penelope is catching on fire and glowing. the catharsis, the giving into passion. The way she smiles like her dreams are coming true (because they are) before he just completely attacks her. What else can I say but EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

so many of the kisses are so tender and gentle, and they just build and build and build in intensity as they get lost in each other.

on a more horny note, so many moments here actually make me physically roll my eyes back in my head with how insane they make me. The desperate boob grab, the consensual nod, the way his hand slips under her dress, they were truly so insane for this. something tells me they knew I've waited literal years for this, so they knew they had to make it good.

Someone said Nicola should get an Emmy nom for moans, and she should, somehow they don't come across as cartoonish at all, and it doesn't take me out of the scene like some "noise making" does in these types of scenes. and for the record I'm not jealous at all, of either of them. in fact, no sooner did my head hit the pillow that I was met with complete and total darkness....not even a dream....

Like everything I could say has already been said, but it was so much better than I thought it was going to be, blew my expectations out of the water and DELIVERED. and DEVOURED. and RUINED ME. AND I AM VERY GRATEFUL.

Anyway that's all, I'm very afraid for part two so I needed some escapism, why am I already nostalgic for the good ol' times when Polin was happy for 6 minutes. thanks for reading! <3

[vickyvicarious]

Mina first being scared that Van Helsing will accuse her of being responsible for Lucy's death before meeting him and validating her guilty feelings, and then going fully into a despair on October 1st about her going to Whitby and taking a liking to the cemetery being what doomed Lucy... Makes me worry about her survivor's guilt after all this.

We never read her account on October 4 when she and Jonathan wrote down the Oct1-3 cylinders and journal entries, but I'm so curious how she felt listening to the recording about Renfield dying for her after their friendship... Maybe she took it quietly with no tears, as she's on survival mode. But once that is all over? She's prone to spiraling into guilt and feeling responsible...

I've missed a few asks on Mina's guilt, just because I've not kept up with my inbox a hundred percent. But it definitely is a consistent trait of hers and we saw hints building towards the breakdown about Lucy. She feels scared he will accuse her of being responsible for Lucy's death because she feels responsible. And even though Van Helsing never comes anywhere close to putting that on her (because why would he, she protected Lucy as much as possible), we later see Mina do it to herself. I think those thoughts were always in her mind, but when she was being active and taking steps to protect others (Jonathan) or to seek retribution (hunting Dracula) she was able to push them to the back of her mind. But as soon as Mina was left behind with nothing to do, the grief and guilt hit her full force.

And yeah, of course there was additional stress because she was being excluded, and Dracula feeding on you is probably more likely to intensify negative feelings about oneself, but like... yeah, I think that was always coming. Mina feels over-responsible for things, is prone to blaming herself, and does not take well to bad things happening when she wasn't there to stop them. So she concocts some kind of reasoning to herself where actually she could have stopped them. Even when she knows for a fact that there is nothing she could have done, I think she would still feel some guilt mixed in with her worry and grief. It's just how she thinks. Either she did something wrong, or she failed to do something right. Activity or inactivity, both her fault.

When Jonathan was lost on his business trip, Mina felt intense worry but couldn't act because she didn't know what to do. She tried not to acknowledge her terrible thoughts much because again, there was no way to act on them, and she didn't know for sure that they were true. She was actively trying not to give up hope by speaking aloud her worst fears. We saw her counseling herself to have patience, repeatedly. We didn't see much guilt here, but she was suppressing all worry, and I think if she had gotten news that he had died, then she would have instinctively blamed herself at least a little. More "why did I let him go" type blame - if she'd stopped him or at least been with him, maybe she could have saved him.

With Mr. Hawkins, Mina seems genuinely caught off guard by his death. She must have known he was ill, at least enough that he sent Jonathan on the trip in his place, but it was still a sudden death she wasn't prepared for. I don't think she would feel seriously guilty over failing to prevent it, but I could see her feeling kind of guilty that she missed the warning signs and didn't care more for him as well. Maybe she failed to notice some sign that would have at least prepared everyone better. We don't see this happen in the book, and I think it would be much less because he is older regardless and she was never 'responsible' for him in the same way, but I could see these thoughts occurring to her.

With Lucy, it's twofold. First, her death - Mina left her when Lucy seemed to be getting better. Then she was hit with the news that Lucy had died while she was away and fully occupied with caring for Jonathan. We saw her feeling worried in Whitby that she was the cause of Lucy's illness by accidentally pricking her with the pin when she went to get her in the graveyard. The sleepwalking was something Mina failed to protect her from; the illness was from something Mina did when failing to protect her. And yet she felt soothed by an apparent recovery and went off to Jonathan. Then later on, she noticed that it had been a long time since she'd gotten a letter from Lucy, but she didn't bother to come and visit her. Maybe if she had gotten a doctor things never would have gotten so bad! Maybe if she had come to visit her in London she could have shared vital information that would help the doctors save Lucy's life.

And of course, when Mina finds out what was really happening to Lucy she feels worse. Because it wasn't her pricking her with the pin that caused all this - it was something worse. She saw all the signs but dismissed them. She set Lucy up to be vulnerable in the first place by getting her to hang out in the graveyard. And so everything that followed was her fault, and when it was worst she wasn't even there to help.

Mina never blames herself for focusing on helping Jonathan when he needed it. The narrative never does either. There's never a "choose between these two who you love" situation where picking one means the other is lost. Lucy seemed better before she left, Mr. Hawkins died suddenly meaning he probably seemed better too. But while that specific aspect isn't touched on, because Mina knows down to her core that she did right in being there for Jonathan, there are plenty of other ways she can blame herself. She always wants to take action, but if something terrible happens it means she took the wrong action. Even if that means she has to go ways back before the bad things began to find it (a la hanging out in the graveyard). Or if she couldn't act, it's still her fault because they were taking action for her sake.

That's an angle I didn't mention above but I think it would hold true for her to an extent for both men there. Jonathan was ambitious and working hard to provide for their future, so that they could get married. It was at least in part for her that he went off to Castle Dracula. Mr. Hawkins was hiding his illness for her and Jonathan, trying to appear fine because he cared for them and didn't want to worry them. If he'd taken it easier maybe he could have lived longer, if it weren't for them...

And that holds all the more true for Renfield or anyone who explicitly dies for her sake. She can see it potentially coming with Jonathan right now as well, for example - he's willing to damn himself of love for her). And yeah, Renfield of all these people is the one she knows and loves least, but they connected when they spoke. And he chose to fight Dracula, he died for her. At least in large part. His death was such a tragic one, too... And maybe Mina could have prevented it, if only she had spoken up. If she'd been less afraid of being sent fully away, and told Jonathan and the others about her fears. Maybe he would have lived.

As you say, it's possible she wouldn't have cried. I think she might have, a little, but more out of sorrow than guilt at that time. I think, like always, the guilt in its entirety would creep up on her later in quieter moments when she has nothing to do. When she can't distract herself, when she can't act to make things right or take care of others somehow.

[twoa-plus]

dissecting stanford pines and finding organs that don’t exist but like in a metaphorical way

that’s it that’s the title i’m going with. this is a long one folks o7

most of this isn’t sourced or canon at all it’s just personal interpretation/headcanon/whatever else u wanna call it, but!! since more people are seeing my deranged gravity falls ramblings now i figure i should probably give some perspective as to why i like/defend ford as much as i do

(in my other gf posts i do try to stick to canon to back up whatever point i’m making - this is just about my personal opinion of ford as a character, and should be able to be thrown out in regards to my other posts)

so for some background/setup/whatever (it’s important i promise bear with me), different people have different instinctual responses to anxiety/stress. i come from a family (genetics are fun) where the default response is to start (metaphorically ofc) biting and hissing like a cornered animal. this doesn’t necessarily mean there’s any actual hatred or malice or anything towards the people that end up getting scratched - they might just be at the wrong place at the wrong time, they might’ve done something super minor and insignificant that added on to a preexisting pile of stress, etc etc

i cannot stress enough that i am not saying this is ok. you dont need me to tell you that hurting people who don’t deserve it is a bad thing, lol. what i am saying though is that sometimes people can kind of suck for reasons other than just genuinely wanting everyone around them to be miserable

this is the last “background” part i swear BUT another thing thats less genetic and more just me being weird is that i’m the type of person where like. any minor environmental change can really stress me out lol. like even just reorganizing my desk can be pretty emotionally taxing

SO. finally back on topic. stanford pines. i see a lot of the behavior/patterns i just described in him. like i’ve spent my entire life around people like this, and while i understand why a lot of people see him as just some asshole, i can’t help but see him as a guy who’s just kinda going through it lol

just talking about the more recent events as of the series, he’s just spent 30 years god knows where doing and seeing god knows what, he has an abusive ex who wants to murder him and his entire family (plus the whole dimension, really), and in the three decades he’s been gone the entire world - including his own house - has changed and left him behind. add onto that that he went missing in 1982, way before we had all of the emotional/mental health resources we have now, we all saw what the stans’ childhood was like, and that ford is terrible with people - including, imo, himself. if there’s anybody out there who would have Feelings and not understand what they are or where they’re coming from or what to do about them, it’s this guy

this entire setup is the perfect circumstance for fear and anxiety and stress and uncertainty to all get translated into anger. a really big example of this, to me, is how he talks about dipper in journal 3. i’ve talked about this before somewhere so i’ll try to summarize as fast as i can lol

reading his initial entry about dipper would make u think he like. hates this kid lol. but i really don’t think he ever did - he was really excited to meet the kids in the show and already seemed to care about them just by virtue of existing, and his opinion on dipper in journal 3 seems to do a complete 180 pretty quickly which ,,, doesn’t really fit ford as a character. like i love the man but that guy can hold a GRUDGE

here’s how it reads to me:

ford gets back to his home dimension after 30 years and everything is different

he’s subconsciously kind of struggling with the fact that he doesn’t really have a “home” anymore - the sense of familiarity and comfort that would normally come with the word is gone. (i specify that it’s subconscious because, like i said earlier, i do not get the vibe that he’s particularly aware of his own emotions)

he finds out that journal 3 - something he made with his own two hands and considers part of his life’s work - has also changed in the decades he’s been gone. this adds to the feeling of unfamiliarity with the world around him

it’s easier to blame that “final straw” and say that he’s just upset about his work being tampered with rather than address the actual root of the problem, so that’s exactly what he does. this still doesn’t mean that there’s any genuine hatred towards dipper. anger in the moment, yeah, but not hatred

again, this is entirely personal interpretation, and i completely understand if u don’t see it like this!! this is just a pattern of thoughts/behavior that i’m very familiar with, so it’s easy for me to apply it to situations like this even if it’s not really part of the canon

i also think there’s a big problem in this fandom with just ,, not seeing ford as a Person with Emotions? idk how to explain it but it feels like people expect him to always know exactly what to do in every situation just bc he’s old and academically smart. like whenever another character does something objectively bad it’s “well there were extenuating circumstances,” (which is usually true and i agree !!) but ford never really seems to get that treatment. if he does something bad it’s just because he sucks

a big example of this i think is the fight between him and stan (y’know the “you ruined my life”/“you ruined your own life”). you cannot look me dead in the eyes and, in full seriousness, with the context of everything ford was going through with bill at the time, say that he was fully mentally/emotionally stable during that conversation. “oh so you’re blaming stan-“ NO!!! stan was also going through it!!! that’s the entire point - they’re both people with their own lives and emotions and everything else that comes with that, they had very human reactions to their respective situations, and they both ended up hurt!! hopefully i’m explaining this right but i just don’t like it when people pin everything on ford, like there was a lot going on and at the end of the day he’s just a human

wasn’t really sure how to work this in so i’ll just put it here - i don’t think ford ever truly hated stan, either. familial bonds are complicated, and there can be a whole lot of anger towards someone without true hatred being present. i briefly mentioned the stans’ childhood sucking earlier, and i don’t just mean stanley - it’s easier to pinpoint him as a victim of abuse/neglect, but that doesn’t mean ford had it great either. their parents (specifically filbrick, but caryn didn’t exactly do a fantastic job with them either) expected nothing of stan and the world of ford, both of which would weigh heavily on any child. plus, ford being the favorite doesn’t mean all of his emotional needs were met - filbrick seeing him as an opportunity to make money doesn’t mean he was suddenly an emotionally present and caring father towards him. WCT wasn’t just an opportunity for ford to go be a famous scientist or whatever - it was a chance for his father to love him, something both of the stans desperately wanted. (WCT was also on the opposite side of the country from where they lived but i’m sure that’s completely unrelated !!!)

do i think stan deserved anything that happened to him after the science fair incident? no, absolutely not, he was a child. do i think it was right of ford to just stand there as his brother got thrown out? no, absolutely not - but he was a child too. as for them not speaking for a decade after that, like i mentioned earlier ford can hold a grudge like no other. (this doesn’t just apply to stan, either, ford dedicated half of his life to trying to kill his ex lmao.) i think ford’s ability to hold on to anger like that is actually a pretty major part of/flaw in his personality, but again, anger - even the strongest, most long-lived of it - is not synonymous with hatred. stan, who ford has always gone to for help when he truly needed it, it not what ford’s hatred looks like. bill, who ford actively wants to die, is

anyways!! i never know how to close these things lol. ig in summary i just see ford’s behavior (in the show at least) as more of a sign of internal struggle rather than like ,, genuinely hating the people around him and wanting their lives to suck. did/does he have an ego problem? absolutely. is he incapable of love and human connection? no. is he immune to manipulation/abuse/neglect/etc and everything that comes with that? also no

he’s an interdimensional criminal why can’t he go to the theraprism. i think he should

[supernaturalscribe67]

The Secrets We (Don't) Keep

Words: 7,314

POV: 1st & 3rd Person

Pairing: Dean/Sam Winchester x Brother!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Language, Fluff, Mention of John Winchester, Mention of Childhood Abuse, Awkward Moments

Summary: After finding out that his brothers, Sam and Dean, read the first entry of his journal, the reader decides to take a rather creative approach to his payback.

Request:

i’d love to see you continue with that winchester brother reader! or something similar? your writing is very comfortable to read :)

@stklett

@xdark-acadamiax - (Tagged because I saw how much you loved this idea!)

A/N: I really hope you guys enjoy this next part! I can honestly admit some parts make me laugh so I hope they make you guys laugh as well! Feedback is greatly appreciated!!!

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OCTOBER 2014

I don’t know why I thought I was going to be able to keep this journal private. I guess my expectations were too high. How dare I assume that Sam and Dean would respect my privacy? Of course, they wouldn’t. How dare I presume that hiding this thing between my mattress and boxspring would be a good idea? I mean, who in their right mind would hide something there? Everyone looks between their brother’s boxspring and mattress!

Silly me.

But, since I found out my brothers decided to read through my first entry (and ultimately vandalize my journal), I have done some brainstorming. Brainstorming ways that I can get back at them. I've considered the classic pranks to start with; itching powder in their underwear, hair dye in their shampoo, Nair in their body wash, or even putting laxatives in their coffee. All of these pranks have been used by all three of us multiple times. Even with some thinking, I’m still unable to come up with a prank that I feel would be good enough to teach them a lesson. 

So, I’ve come up with the next best thing. 

In this entry, I’m going to be writing down some of Sam and Dean’s embarrassing moments. 

Throughout our decades of life, all three of us have had our fair share of shameful moments, but the instances that I am thinking of are ones that I like to bring up from time to time. Each time I mention them, I get an eye roll from Dean and one of Sam’s classic bitch faces. It’s always so satisfying to get that kind of reaction from them. 

It would only be fitting to see what kind of reaction I get when they eventually read this entry. 

JUNE 1989

Everyone has their fears. Some people’s fears are more valid than others. Sam has a fear of clowns, I have a fear of needles, and Dean has a fear of planes. I can understand Sam’s fear of clowns - Plucky Pennywhistle's always made me uneasy when I was a kid - and, as far as my fear of needles, have you seen some of the needles that doctors use on patients? They’re HUGE! No thanks. 

What a lot of people don’t know about my older brother, however, is that he didn’t just suddenly have a fear of planes. He didn’t wake up one morning and discover that he didn’t like flying. Sam’s fear of clowns developed from our times at Plucky Pennywhistle’s, my fear of needles stemmed from an unprofessional doctor (who shouldn’t practice medicine anymore, in my opinion) from my second round of childhood vaccinations, and Dean’s fear of flying…well…

Dean used to be afraid of heights. 

I say ‘used’ to be because, if he still has that fear, he does a really good job at hiding it. We’ve gone to some pretty high places on our hunts, and, from what I noticed, it never seemed to bother him. He could always be masking it well enough, which is possibly the case. Then again, he could have learned to deal with the fear and forget about it completely. Lucky him. 

But, when Dean was younger, that was one thing that he was never good at doing - masking his emotions - especially when the three of us were by ourselves. When it was just us three, Dean felt like he could express how he truly felt about anything and we would keep it just between us. It was a little 'brother code' that we had going. Whatever was said between us was kept between us. Kind of like Vegas, in a way. 

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

I’ve always wanted to visit Vegas. 

Stay on topic, (Y/N).

For most of our young childhood, we spent half the time traveling with our father, and the other half at Bobby’s. I always loved going to Bobby’s house. It felt like a home. To me, it was always my home growing up, even if I wasn’t there all the time. Even though we stopped going there as often when we got older, it was still the place that I would technically consider my home. We had the most fun there. We felt like we could be kids for once. Like we didn’t need to worry about the things that went bump in the night anymore. 

I loved Bobby’s house. 

We were there during summer vacation, which was somewhat of a common occurrence when we were younger. Sam, Dean, and I always found things to do while we were there, and playing throughout the maze of cars in Bobby’s junkyard wasn’t unusual. Normally, we would play hide-and-seek, tag, have races, or some stupid war games that we would come up with. 

That day, however, we discovered a new stack of cars, about six cars high in total, that we had not previously known about near the far backside of the property. We would have usually stayed towards the front, but, that day, we decided to roam around. Dean had the expert idea to see who could climb the highest. Sammy went first, climbing on top of the first car with some help before he got nervous and backed down. I managed to make it up three cars before I decided that I had enough and came back down. Dean, on the other hand, took the challenge a little too seriously. He didn’t waste any time reaching the car that sat on top of the pile. He was so proud of himself. 

It all went downhill after that…

“Ha! I beat you both!” Dean exclaimed as he stood on top of the roof of the car, fists balled up and placed onto his hips in a mock Superman pose. “I’m the King of the Cars!”

(Y/N) rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Sam pouted as he looked up at Dean, his bottom lip pushed out. 

“I wanna get up there,” he said, letting out a small whine.

“You tried to get up there, Sammy, but you said it was too high.” (Y/N) explained, looking down at him.

Sam hung his head as he kicked a pebble on the ground. Dean still stood on top of the car, waving his arms around. He let out quiet, faint shouts as if mimicking a cheering crowd. Sam pursed his lips ever so slightly.

"I wanna play hide-and-go-seek." 

"It's ‘hide-and-seek’, Sammy." (Y/N) deadpanned. 

"That's what I said." 

"Do you wanna play with just you and me?" 

"No," Sam shook his head and glanced up at his oldest brother, who was still cheering for himself. "I want De to play." 

(Y/N) gave a short nod before he turned to his older brother as well. He reached up and cupped his hands to the side of his lips. "Hey, idiot! Sammy and I wanna play hide-and-seek! Get down here so we can go play!" He called up to Dean. 

"You guys are just jealous because I could climb up to the top!" 

“No one’s jealous of you, Dean! We just want to play! Come on!” (Y/N) let out a groan as he placed his hands on his sides. 

Dean scoffed and waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” He mumbled as he walked closer to the edge of the car. 

As Dean gazed down at the ground below, he froze. His eyes went wide and his legs and arms tensed. The confident smile that he had once had on his face was now gone, replaced by an uneasy frown. (Y/N) and Sam’s eyes were on him, watching him intently, waiting. After a minute or so of Dean standing there, not moving, (Y/N) shook his head and cupped his hands around his mouth again. 

“What are you doing?” He called out. 

(Y/N)’s voice caused Dean to jump and turn his gaze towards him. He opened his mouth, attempting to speak. 

“I-I can’t get down,” Dean said with a shaky tone. 

“What do you mean you ‘can’t get down’?” 

“I can’t get down! I-It’s too high!” 

“You were the one that wanted to get up there!” 

“I know I was, will you just shut up!” Dean’s voice came out cracked and high-pitched. 

(Y/N) closed his mouth and stood there, watching as Dean struggled to get down on his knees. As he attempted to move his leg down towards the trunk of the car, he felt the car shift. (Y/N) and Sam jumped when they heard the metal scrape against the car below. Dean let out a yelp and pulled his leg back. His fists were clenched onto nothing, knuckles a ghostly white color. His face was noticeably red and tears began to form in his eyes. 

“G-Go get Bobby!” Dean called down. 

“You can get down, Dean! You’ll be okay!” 

“No! I’m not okay!” Dean let out a sob. “It’s too high! The car’s going to fall. Go get Bobby,” Dean’s voice was as shaky as his hands were. 

(Y/N) looked down at Sam. “Go get Bobby, Sammy.” 

Sam’s eyes were wide with worry as he nodded slightly. He turned and made a mad dash towards the house. “Bobby! Bobby!” He cried out. 

(Y/N) then turned his attention back to Dean, who seemed like he was seconds away from having a breakdown.

“Dean! You’re going to be okay! Just come down the same way you went up.” 

“N-No!” Dean shook his head rapidly. 

“Quit being a baby!”

“I’m not a baby!” 

“Then why are you crying like one!?” 

“Will you shut up!?” 

(Y/N) stopped talking and let out a huff. Not even a minute later, Sam came running out towards them, Bobby quickly behind him. Bobby ran his fingers through his hair stressfully. 

“What the Hell have you idjits done?” 

It took thirty minutes of coaxing for Dean to be able to climb down two of the cars before Bobby had to make his way towards him and carry him down the rest of the way. Needless to say, Dean wasn’t in the mood to play any type of game with us after that, especially when I began to tease him mercilessly about his crying. I still tease him to this day about it, comparing him to a cat that had been stuck in a tree. Bobby was known as ‘Firefighter Bobby’ for a good month-and-a-half after that. 

We were forbidden from climbing on the cars anymore, which none of us seemed to have a problem with. As for my teasing, I had managed to get in trouble with Bobby once he caught me and was forced to help him organize the study while Sam and Dean went out to play. It wasn’t very fun, at the time, but I had learned a lot more about hunting during that punishment, so some good came out of it. 

To this day, Dean still likes to pretend as if it never happened. Or, if it did happen, then it was either Sam or me that needed to be rescued. Not him. He never needed to be rescued (according to him). Still, Sam and I can remember this vividly. It’s two against one, Dean. 

So much for ‘King of the Cars’.

OCTOBER 1989

Sam was always gullible when he was a kid. He grew out of it in his early teens and became more aware of how deceitful people could be. Before that, however, he was fun to mess with. I’m his big brother, I have a right to mess with him. 

I still do, but it’s not as easy. 

Sam was the type to believe anything that anyone wanted to tell him. Even if it was the most outlandish thing possible. I was able to convince him that unicorns were real and that everyone got one when they turned ten. When he asked Bobby what kind of unicorn he had gotten for his tenth birthday, Bobby told him the truth right then and there. He was so disappointed that he didn’t talk to me for about a week. I felt bad, at least a little bit. But the other part of me thought it was the funniest thing I had ever done to him at the time. 

That was when he was four. 

I still ask him what he wants his unicorn to look like. 

He hasn’t given me a straight answer yet. 

Around the age of six, Sam had started to let his hair grow out. Granted, everyone’s hair was growing out at that point - my father had neglected to get us any type of haircut for a little over six months - but out of all of ours, Sam’s was the longest. Dean had started calling him ‘Samantha’ at some point, which irritated Sam to no end. I decided to take a different approach, however. 

Back then, we knew about monsters. We knew about the different kinds of monsters that our father fought but didn’t know a lot about them. We knew their names, what they looked like, and common signs for each of them. One thing we didn’t know about certain monsters was how people were turned into them. 

So, with this limited knowledge in the back of my head, one dreary fall night, while our father was away on a hunt and Dean was out finding us some food, I decided to play a little…prank, if you will, on Sammy. 

Sam’s eyes were glued to the television screen. A rerun of Alf played that he was completely enamored with. Meanwhile, (Y/N)’s eyes were attached to something other than the show. He watched as Sam brushed his long locks out of his face occasionally. Sam tucked some hair behind his ear, but it didn’t stay there long before it fell in his face. His hair was down to his chin by then and (Y/N) had to admit that he was more irritated about the length than Sam was. 

When the show moved to a commercial break, Sam clenched his eyes shut and stretched his arms over his head. He glanced over at (Y/N) and furrowed his brows. 

“What’re you looking at?” 

“That hair,” (Y/N) gestured to the top of his head. 

Sam frowned. “What’s wrong with my hair?” 

“It’s long…too long,” (Y/N) narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He reached over and gently grabbed a piece of Sam’s hair before letting it go, allowing the strand to fall against Sam’s chubby cheek. 

“Dad said he was going to get it cut soon.” 

“Yeah, I know, but…it’s not like mine and Dean’s hair. It’s so much longer. It’s kind of like…” (Y/N) pursed his lips as he studied the top of his head. “Werewolf hair. Maybe you’re turning into a werewolf.”

Sam’s eyes slowly widened as he sat up straight and shifted uneasily in his seat. “I-I’m not turning into a werewolf.” 

“I don’t know, it sure seems like it.” 

Sam reached up and hesitantly ran his fingers through his hair. “How…how would I know if I’m turning into a werewolf?” 

“What? You don’t know the signs?” 

Sam shook his head. (Y/N) scoffed. 

“Come on, Sammy! You have to know the classic signs!” (Y/N) exclaimed as he leaned forward, a small smirk playing on the corner of his lips. “The long hair, the way your fingernails curve, the hair between your eyebrows, and your sharp teeth.” 

Sam brought his hands up to his face, his fingers roaming around his features. Quickly, he got off the couch and ran towards the motel bathroom, shoving the door open so hard that it bounced off the wall. (Y/N) followed after his brother. He watched as Sam studied himself in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair, brushed a single finger down his nose, studied the curvature of his fingernails, and bared his teeth. His eyes widened as soon as they landed on his sharp canines. Sam frowned and pushed his bottom lip out. It began to wobble as tears appeared in the corner of his eyes. He turned to (Y/N).

“I-I don’t want to be a werewolf!” He whimpered. 

(Y/N) leaned against the doorframe and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, Sammy. It looks like you can’t help it.” 

“B-But,” Sam turned and looked at himself in the mirror for a second before turning back to his brother. “But what if hunters come after me?” 

“Hey!” (Y/N) shook his head as he walked closer to Sam. He placed both of his hands on his shoulders, bending down so that he was at eye level with his little brother. “That is something you never have to worry about. Dean, Dad, and I will protect you.” 

Tears streaked down his red cheeks and he nodded. “Do you think Dad and De know?” 

(Y/N) sighed and pursed his lips, moving his hands off of Sam so that he could place them on his hips. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. They haven’t said anything about it, yet. But, I think you should tell them. That way, they will be able to protect you.” 

“I-I don’t wanna tell them.” 

“Why not?” 

“What if they don’t like me anymore because I’m a werewolf?” 

(Y/N) shook his head and gave a comforting smile. “Sammy, they’re always going to love you, werewolf or not.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

Sam glanced down at the ground, his shoulders slumped. (Y/N) could see how much the news had upset his brother. He didn’t want him to be in hysterics by the time Dean got back, so he thought of the next best thing to try and cheer him up. 

“You know, a lot of people think that werewolves are the bad guys,” he began. “But you could be the first-ever werewolf hunter! You could be the one werewolf that protects humans from bad things! Kind of like a…uh…a werewolf superhero!” 

Sam looked up at him and raised his brows, cocking his head to the side. “A werewolf superhero?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Like a…a werewolf Batman?” A smile slowly appeared on Sam’s lips. 

“Just like a werewolf Batman.” 

The worry quickly left Sam’s face as he looked at himself in the mirror. He studied his face once more. “Maybe being a werewolf isn’t so bad,” he shrugged. “Thank you, (Y/N).” 

“Anytime, Sammy,” 

Sam turned and wrapped his arms tightly around (Y/N) in a bone-crushing embrace. “I love you.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face. Whether it was from the sentimental words or the devious nature behind them, he wasn’t sure. He wrapped his arms around Sam as well, pulling him close. 

“I love you, too, Sammy.” 

For six months, six whole months, Sam kept the little secret quiet. He would mention it to me from time to time. Ask me questions about lycanthropy in general or question me about whether or not I thought Dean and our Dad knew about it. I would always comfort him, tell him that I didn’t think they knew anything, and we would go about our day-to-day lives. 

Eventually, it got to a point where I was hounding him to tell Dean and Dad about it. Sam was hesitant at first. He was scared about how they would react. I was able to talk him through it, though, and, one night, he sat all of us down so he could tell us. 

The look on Dean and Dad’s faces? 

Pure confusion. 

And I thought it was the funniest thing at the time. 

I had to hold back my laughter as I watched my father deal with Sam and explain that he couldn't be a werewolf if he had not been bitten by one. Sam was in hysterics at that point. He was crying and sobbing and while our father was trying his best to comfort him, I was trying my best to keep it together. At that moment, I patted myself on the back for the longest-lasting prank. 

The celebration didn’t last long. When Sam told our father that I was the one who told him about it, he was furious. I swear, I saw his eyes turn red. I won’t go into too many details about my punishment, but it was one of the worst ones that I got. Even now, I don’t think that it was what I deserved. But it happened, and I can’t necessarily change it. 

I couldn’t sit down for a week. 

The punishment didn’t stop me from teasing Sam about it, but it was quick to make me stop when Sam told me he was going to tell Dad. Now that Dad’s dead, Sam doesn’t have anyone to tattle to. I can say whatever I want. 

Cut that damn hair, Sammy. You look like a werewolf. 

JANUARY 2010

We always had some type of celebration for our birthdays. When we got older, that is. Not all of them necessarily had a cake and presents, but they were celebrations nonetheless whether we acknowledged it or not. Whenever Dean has a birthday, his favorite place to go is at any local bar that we were closest to at the time. Sam and I would switch back and forth on who would be the designated driver so that the other one could celebrate properly with Dean. On Dean’s 31st birthday, I was the designated driver. 

And, man, was I glad I was. 

We were in Colorado after just finishing a hunt. It was a smaller bar near the far northeast corner of the state. It was a little busy, given it was a Sunday, but most of the clientele seemed to consist of regulars who would come in after their nine-to-five. I honestly couldn’t tell you what the theme of the bar was. The decoration scattered on the walls was a mix of historical pieces from the town we were in, rock 'n roll memorabilia, and different pieces from various Colorado sports teams. 

Dean was plastered, and Sam wasn’t too far behind him. It had been a while since I saw the two of them get that drunk, but we were under a lot of stress at the time. I was jealous that I wasn’t the one who was able to get drunk enough to forget, but I figured I would make up for it later. 

The bar began to shut down around one in the morning. The bartender had shouted for 'last call' half an hour before. I knew that I had to get Sam and Dean back to the motel before we got kicked out. It wasn’t that hard to find Sam, he had refused to leave his seat at the table the entire night. Trying to find Dean, on the other hand, reminded me of reading those ‘Where’s Waldo?’ books in the school library when I was younger. 

Let me tell you when I did find him…

Oh boy. 

(Y/N) sighed as he ran a hand down his face. His eyes drooped and he felt as if his body weighed a thousand pounds. After scouring the entire bar to find his brother for the past thirty minutes, he concluded that he deserved a bed for himself when they got back to the motel. Sam and Dean could share a bed, or sleep on the floor. He didn’t care. He just wanted to get back and go to sleep. 

(Y/N) walked back up to the table that the three brothers had shared. Sam sat in his seat, back slouched over, his head laid on the wooden surface. His mop of hair was brushed carelessly over his face. (Y/N) placed a hand on his back, leaning close to him. 

“Sammy,” he said, his voice low. Sam visibly jumped as he looked up at him with tired, glazed eyes. “Have you seen Dean?” 

“Um…” Sam trailed, voice slurred, and pursed his lips. “Dean…Dean…” Before he could continue, Sam broke into a weak fit of laughter, his shoulders shaking. “Dean sounds a lot like ‘bean’. He looks like a bean because he’s short.”  

(Y/N) pressed his lips together and patted Sam’s back. “He sure does, buddy. Thanks for the help.” He spoke sarcastically. 

He stood up straight and turned around, his back now facing Sam. He ran his fingers through his hair as he looked around the almost empty bar. There were still a couple of regulars scattered around here and there, but most of them were clearing out. No sign of Dean, though. (Y/N) had to wonder how his brother could get lost in such a small place, but Dean had managed to do the impossible. Again. 

In front of him, (Y/N) could see the bartender from earlier. She had walked around the small U-shaped bar and was making her way towards him. Before she could get closer, (Y/N) shook his head. He held his hands up slightly. 

“I know you made 'last call' a while ago, and I’m sorry for staying, ma’am. I’m just trying to find my idiot brother.” He said with an apologetic tone. 

“Well, that was actually why I was coming over here.” She said and placed her hands on her hips. “There’s some guy in the back and I was wondering if he belonged to you.” 

(Y/N)’s shoulders slouched as he let out a sigh. “I am so sorry. I’ll pay for anything he broke or stole.” 

“No, he didn’t break or steal anything. He’s doing…something else.” 

(Y/N) furrowed his brows as an uneasy feeling began to make its way to his stomach. “What is he doing?” 

She gestured back towards the bar. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?”

Hesitantly, he gave a nod and followed the bartender. She took him around the bar and to the back. Past the saloon-style swinging doors, a couple of feet into the supply room, (Y/N) came face to face with a sight he would never be able to forget. 

Dean leaned against one of the many metal shelves. Even with something to lean on, his body swayed back and forth, indicating just how intoxicated he was. A goofy grin was present on his red face. One hand was balled into a fist and placed on his hip while the other one hung casually off of the shelf he leaned on. Beside him stood a mannequin, clad in an aged Colorado Rockies uniform paired with a baseball cap featuring the same team’s logo. (Y/N)’s jaw dropped. 

Dean was flirting with a mannequin. 

The bartender smirked. “He’s been back here for the last hour. I was going to kick him out, but I listened to how sweet he was being to Manny and I felt bad for him, so I just let him stay.” She nodded and leaned against the door, propping it open. 

“Manny?” (Y/N) questioned, not taking his eyes off of his brother. 

“Yeah. Manny the Mannequin. It’s this damn mannequin that the owner bought for twenty bucks when the local Sears closed down. He needed to put his stupid baseball outfit somewhere and he thought the best thing to do would be to put it on Manny and leave it in a bar. The regulars weren’t too nice to Manny, so we had to put him in the back here. It seems like your brother somehow snuck past me and found him.” 

“I…I am so sorry about this.” (Y/N) gestured to his brother, who had begun to fiddle with the hem of the Rockies shirt. 

The bartender snorted. “Trust me, this isn’t the worst thing a customer has done to poor Manny. Just get him out of here.” 

“Yes, ma’am. Right away,” (Y/N) mumbled. 

He stepped into the room just as the bartender turned and walked out. As he got closer, Dean began to giggle. 

“You know, you have the prettiest eyes. Has anyone ever told you that? Oh, come on, I bet a lot of people tell you that. They’re like…like, um…” Dean paused and stared down at the ground. 

(Y/N) quirked a brow and placed his hands on his hips. When he did, he felt the outline of his phone in his jeans pocket. A smirk made its way onto his face as he took out his phone. He knew that he could use this moment for entertainment purposes later. He began to record his brother as he cleared his throat. Dean jumped and turned to (Y/N), eyes wide.

“Hey, Dean. What’re you doing?” (Y/N) asked cautiously. 

A smile broke out on Dean’s face as soon as he recognized his brother’s voice. “Oh! (Y/N), I want you to meet someone,” he slurred as he wrapped an arm around Manny’s shoulders, pulling the mannequin closer to him. “This is Cozy. She’s…she’s the most beautiful woman here and we’re going to get married.” 

“Are you?” 

“Yeah! Isn’t that right, baby?” Dean giggled as he reached up and poked Manny’s nose. “She’s the love of my life.” 

“Well, I am so happy for you, Dean. She looks…beautiful.” (Y/N) was trying his hardest to keep from laughing. 

“Thank you.” Dean smiled proudly. 

“I think you’ve talked to Cozy enough for one day, though. I think we need to get back to the motel.” 

Dean frowned. “But I don’t wanna. I wanna stay with Cozy.” 

“I know, buddy,” (Y/N) walked over and placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “But Cozy has to go home, too. You can call her in the morning. Plus, we have pie back at the motel.” 

Dean gasped dramatically. “Pie?” 

“Yeah, pie,” (Y/N) pulled Dean away from the mannequin and wrapped an arm around his torso. 

“Pecan?” 

“Yes, Dean, pecan pie.” 

“Oh, (Y/N), you know, you’re the best brother a guy could have.” Dean leaned his head against (Y/N)’s shoulder as the two of them stumbled out of the back room and towards their table. Dean let out another gasp as soon as he saw Sam. He patted Sam sloppily on his shoulder. “Sammy! Sammy! I met a girl!” 

Sam groaned and lifted his head. He looked between (Y/N) and Dean, narrowing his eyes. “That’s not a girl! That’s your brother, stupid.” Sam grumbled. 

(Y/N) sighed and rolled his eyes. “Come on, guys. Let’s get back to the motel before you pass out on me.” 

There was no pie back at the motel. I just know that’s one of the only things that could get Dean’s attention. 

Thankfully, both of them waited until they were in the car to pass out. I had tried my hardest to wake them up, but they weren’t budging. In the end, they both slept in the backseat of the Impala while lying on top of one another. It seemed like it would be extremely uncomfortable, but I wouldn’t know. I was able to go back into the room and relax in my own bed, in a place that was peaceful and quiet. No snoring, no moving around, nothing. It was some of the best sleep I ever had. 

In the morning, when Dean and Sam woke up, they had to ruin my peaceful sleep by knocking on the door. They were a mess, both completely out of it and hungover. The smell of vomit stunk up the room so bad that I swear it’s still there if we were to go back and check. I got them painkillers, got them some water, and made sure they were nice and fed. When we were all sitting down and finally eating, I let them have it.

Oh, the teasing. 

So much teasing. 

I showed them both the video of Dean flirting with Manny. Dean grumbled and tried to get me to delete the video while Sam was trying his best not to laugh his ass off - he really couldn’t because of how bad his head probably hurt. Throughout our conversation, I swear, whenever I would look over at Dean, I could see his cheeks turn pink. I knew I had the perfect blackmail. 

I still have the video. 

You know, just in case. 

APRIL 2014

Everyone who knows Dean understands just how much of a serial flirt he is. If it breathes and if he finds it attractive, he will flirt with it (the story with Manny should make that pretty obvious). I, on the contrary, know how to flirt, but I don’t do it as often as he does. Sure, I flirt with people now and then to get my fix, but it’s not something that I do every time I go out. 

Sam, on the other hand, is the complete opposite of Dean. 

Sam was always the type to be awkward around people he found attractive, even when he was a kid. The number of times I would see him in the hallways of schools trying to talk to girls was hilarious, but he carried that awkwardness into adulthood. I admit, a couple of years ago, that boy had some moves. He knew all the right things to say and do to make anyone swoon for him. I was sort of jealous of him, and I could tell that Dean was proud of him, in a way. 

However, with how much has been going on the past couple of years, I’ve noticed that Sam has gotten a little rusty when it comes to flirting. There has been more than one occasion where he received a pretty nasty glare or a drink to the face followed by some rather colorful language. At first, I felt bad for him, but then it started getting funny. As he kept trying, the conversations he would have with people would last longer and longer than the last time. It still took him a while to leave with anyone, but baby steps. Baby steps. 

There was one time earlier this year when I thought he was going to get a happy ending. It was going so well! I had to admit that I had been spying on him throughout his interaction, just out of sheer curiosity. We were celebrating after a hunt in Arizona. Nothing too big, just a basic salt and burn with a basic bar afterward. It was Saturday and the bar seemed like it was packed. We were lucky to find a table. Thankfully we did because my feet had ached that night from all the digging. 

While I rested at the table, Dean went off to try and snag his own after-hunt reward while Sam walked over to the bar to chat up some cute brunette he had seen. The entire time, I entertained myself by watching him from a distance. Everything was going so well. 

Unfortunately, for Sam, he let his awkwardness get the best of him. 

“I swear, none of the good-lookin’ ones are single,” Dean grumbled as he took his seat back at the table, a defeated look on his face. 

“Maybe you should lower your standards?” (Y/N) shrugged as he took a sip of beer, his eyes glued to his younger brother across the bar. “I mean, they have to lower their standards to sleep with you, don’t they? It’s about time you do the same.” 

“Fuck you,” Dean scoffed a sipped his beer. 

“Sorry, not interested.” 

Dean rolled his eyes before he looked at (Y/N), noticing his gaze. He furrowed his brows. “The Hell are you looking at, anyway?” 

Dean turned his head to look in the same direction as (Y/N), shifting his head to look over people as he attempted to see what had grabbed his brother’s attention. (Y/N) licked his lips and smirked. 

“Looks like Sammy might get some tonight.” He said. 

“No shit? Where?” 

“At the far end of the bar. He’s talking to the babe in the blue dress.” 

Once Dean stopped moving his head, he was able to see Sam and the woman standing at the corner of the bar. Both of them were facing one another. The woman leaned up against the bar while Sam had his hands placed awkwardly in his pockets. Both of them had smiles on their faces as they talked. 

“Damn, she’s hot,” Dean mumbled. 

“I know, right? He needs to take his hands out of his pockets, though. He looks like a fucking shy middle-schooler asking his crush out to the dance.” 

“Eh,” Dean waved him off. “He always looks like that.” 

“Yeah, I know, and have you seen him leave with anyone recently?” 

“Point taken. So, what? You’ve just been watching this whole time?” 

“I need to keep myself entertained somehow. Not in the mood for a one-night-stand, so I have to make my own fun.” 

Dean gave a short nod before he continued to watch Sam. (Y/N) and Dean sat in silence as they watched Sam talk with the woman, mumbling back and forth to one another. As the two of them talked, Sam became visibly more comfortable. His movements became more animated and he pulled one of his hands out of his pockets. Both Dean and (Y/N) were practically sitting on the edge of their seats, their drinks completely forgotten about. 

After ten agonizing minutes of watching, it was clear that Sam had become completely relaxed. They continued to talk as the lively bar moved around them. It was almost as if no one existed but the two of them. They were so engrossed in their conversation that Sam neglected to see the serving tray full of beer that was sitting down on the bar next to them. Finally, Sam took his other hand out of his pocket. He moved to lean on the bar, but his elbow never touched the polished bartop. 

Instead, his elbow leaned against the edge of the serving tray, knocking it over. The tray and glasses clattered to the ground, sending glass particles across the floor. Beer splashed on himself and the woman he had been talking to, who had a look of horror across her face. 

(Y/N)’s eyes widened as he quickly reached over and grabbed Dean’s arm. His jaw dropped and he immediately felt the laughter bubble up inside of his chest. He covered his mouth with his other hand and turned towards Dean. Dean snorted and turned his body so that he was facing (Y/N), his own eyes wide and hand covering his mouth as well. Both Dean and (Y/N) shook as they tried to contain the laughter. 

They sat there, attempting to hide their amusement as Sam walked back over to the table, a defeated look on his face. He sat down, grabbed the beer that he had once forgotten about, and took a long swig. When he saw Dean and (Y/N) practically doubled over, he raised a brow. 

“What’re you two laughing at?” He asked as a small smirk played on the corner of his lips. 

(Y/N) turned away from Dean, pressing his lips together as he placed both of his hands on his beer. His gaze averted to the table, unable to look at Sam without laughing. He shook his head. 

“Nothing…” he spoke in a broken, high-pitched voice. “Nothing, nothing. You wouldn’t get it.” He waved off and took a drink. 

Sam looked towards Dean, who took a drink as well. “Yeah, you wouldn’t get it,” he paused. “Just like you didn’t get that chick’s number.” 

(Y/N) snorted as he let out a laugh, his shoulders bouncing. Sam’s smirk vanished and was replaced with a deep frown. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he slammed his cup down on the table and stood. 

“Real mature, you guys,” he grumbled, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. 

“Oh, come on, Sammy!” Dean exclaimed. “You almost had her!” 

Sam rolled his eyes as he put his arms into his jacket sleeves. “Hey, Sammy, look on the bright side!” (Y/N) began. “At least you were able to get her wet somehow.” 

(Y/N) howled and slapped his hand on the table, Dean following suit. One of (Y/N)'s arms was curled against his stomach as he leaned forward. Sam glared at him. 

“I’m going back to the motel.” He growled out before he turned sharply and walked away before Dean or (Y/N) could say anything. 

By the time (Y/N) and Dean were done laughing, tears were rolling down their faces and their cheeks were bright red. Dean used his thumb and index finger to wipe away the tears while (Y/N) used the collar of his shirt. Once they were both settled, they leaned back in their seats. Dean shook his head. 

“We really need to get that kid a hooker or something,” He finally said. 

“I second that,” (Y/N) nodded and raised his glass. 

Dean raised his glass as well before they both drank. 

Sam didn’t talk to us for the rest of the night. He didn’t talk to us for the next couple of days until we got back to the bunker. Dean and I would try to get him to talk to us about something, anything, even the nerdy shit that he’s into, but he wouldn’t budge. On the drive back, he was wearing his headphones the entire time, so that whenever Dean or I would try to talk to him, he had some type of excuse as to why he didn’t talk to us. 

Little asshole. 

Wish I had headphones that I could just pop in to ignore the two of them. 

Maybe I’ll pick some up? 

Of course, I felt bad for the kid. He looked like he was having a good time, but you should have seen the look on the woman’s face when the beer spilled all over her. It was priceless! I had wished I held it together long enough to be able to see what had happened afterward, but if the look on her face had any correlation with her reaction, it probably wasn’t a good one. 

Don’t feel too bad for the kid, though, he got laid a couple of months ago. He’s fine, basically back to normal. 

Still, Dean and I like to bring it up occasionally. Sam has stopped getting so angry about it and has just resorted to rolling his eyes and ignoring us. One of these days, he’s going to get the balls to use one of our embarrassing pick-up attempts against us to shut us up. 

God knows he probably has more instances of us than we do of him.

 

OCTOBER 2014

Jesus, my wrist hurts. Do people normally write this much in their journals? Certainly not at once, right? I have to be setting a new World Record. I wonder if there’s a world record for something like this? I’ll need to look it up later. 

Trust me, though, I have yet to scratch the surface of the embarrassing memories I have of my two brothers. These are just my favorite ones. If they decide to read this, I hope the two of you enjoyed going down memory lane! Maybe you’ll learn not to look at other people’s shit? 

Who am I kidding, of course you won’t. 

I’ll need to hide this somewhere else. Maybe my closet? Maybe in one of my bags? I can’t even think of a place where they won’t eventually find it. Whatever, I’ll hide it in the back of my closet and see where that gets me. 

The bunker door just opened. Sounds like Sam and Dean are back from the supply run. I’ll need to make this short and simple so I can help them put the groceries away before they start bitching at me. 

Until next time,

Stay safe. (That STILL sounds bad. God, I’m terrible at ending these things.)

[cosmosnout]

KH OC WEEK 2024

Day 6: journal

Shiro

Shiro picked up keeping a journal from being around the apprentices during their time in the organization. It was also a way for them to ease their fear of losing their memory again, since at least this time they’d have something to help them remember and keep track of everything.

Their first entries were very systematic, listing important things and people to remember with occasional entries about the events of their day. (Their journal reflected their paranoia quite a lot)

Shiro has, however, later on managed to let go of their fear a bit more, which can be seen in their diary entries becoming more casual, with occasional doodles appearing on the pages. I definitely think Shiro would also keep whatever photos they've managed to acquire in their journal. Mostly photos of people's faces they'd wish/think were important to remember, with some scenic photos scattered in there.

This ended up being a fun call back to an old KH OC WEEK entry about the character hobbies, where I included that Shiro does journaling haha.

Aiko + Merin

Aiko’s journal is very much what you’d expect a teenage girl's private diary to look like. It’s a place where she’s free to ramble on about whatever comes to mind and vent out her feelings when needed.

She tries to write down the important things happening during her journey, but she tends to end up sliding into another topic without thinking.

Merin’s part in Aiko’s journey comes mostly from her asking Aiko to write down things they need to remember for their adventures and from being quite the popular topic in Aiko’s personal ramblings. They’ve also come to use the diary as a way to talk indirectly when they aren’t able to find the right words while speaking face-to-face. (Imagine them sliding the notebook back and forth across the floor to each other after an argument bc they’re both too upset to look at one another LOL)

Viktor + Tähti

Viktor’s journal is actually just his sketchbook, which he occasionally writes important notes on. Otherwise, the book is filled with pictures and drawings rather than words. Viktor is also quite protective of his sketchbook (as any artist is) and doesn’t really like sharing it with others. He does, however, agree to write down some important things for Tähti and sometimes allows her to draw on some of the pages.

I like to think he later on upgrades to a digital tablet, where he’s able to have a proper catalogue of everything important he’s been able to learn during his adventure (similar to Jiminy’s journal) while also being able to use it for his art. iPad kid LMAO

Other

And funny enough, I don’t think Merin or Tähti would be too keen on getting their own journals later on during their journey since they’ve gotten so used to their arrangement with the siblings.

And also for clarification, since I haven’t yet posted the earlier prompts, the reason the kiddos are sharing their journals in these specific pairs is due to them getting separated from each other in those pairs. Neither Merin nor Tähti had journals to begin with, so they just opted to use the ones Aiko and Victor had.

Also a fun little detail is that Shiro’s journal is purposely made to look similar to the book of prophecies.

@khoc-week

[nevernonline]

✧.* grow as we go; svt smau.

entry #04 the fall of the empire.

synopsis: over the past ten years you've fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it's clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt, (g)-idle minnie&soyeon, oc's

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex's, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

𐦍 word count: 1.9k

masterlist ▸ 003. two robots fell in love. ▸ 04.5 plan b?

Throwing your phone onto your couch, you let out the biggest sigh your body could manage to put out.

How did things manage to get so out of hand so quickly?

First Joshua and now Minnie, maybe karma really had it out for you this time.

In need of a distraction you started cleaning your apartment, scrubbing off any scuffs and dirt that accumulated from your past. It was something you wished you could do in your personal life, just scrub out all of the bad shit and only move forward.

After spending hours cleaning out the grout from the shower and throwing away old memories from your past in fear that they'd come back to haunt you, a knock came on the front door.

You almost pretended to not hear it, just hoping that whoever decided to show their face to you would just save themselves and walk away, but the knocking persisted.

"Look, I don't really feel like- Oh my god, Seokmin."

His puppy dog eyes stared at you as a greeting and his long arms held a basket full of your favorite things, homemade lemonade, popcorn, cherry sour straws, and even a small stuffed animal.

"Sorry, I tried to text you but you hadn't replied and I got worried. I can just drop this off and let you be alone."

"No, please stay. Thank you for coming over, I just didn't feel like answering my phone anymore."

"Have people been talking about the twitter?"

"Yeah, I got about a thousand text messages from everyone, none that I've opened. Joshua, Jeonghan, Mingyu.. I mean it's fucking insane."

"Well, we can both ignore our phones and watch some rom-coms? I even brought a bag full of mini alcohol bottles and stuff to bake brownies."

Seokmin sniffed the air as he removed his coat and sneakers, stepping into your apartment.

"Stress cleaning?"

"Yeah, I just felt like washing away bad energy."

"Don't worry, I showered before I came."

"Shut up."

Seokmin took it upon himself to pre-heat your oven and get started mixing the ingredients for the chocolate mixture. Trying to find a way to ask you about how you felt, but not wanting to pry.

"Look, we can talk about it, Seok. It's okay."

"No, I just feel bad. I mean everything you wrote is private, you're not entitled to have anyone know your dirty secrets and it's just not fair."

"That's exactly what, Minghao texted me. I think I'm over trying to find out who did it, like maybe if I don't add fuel to the fire and act like it doesn't bother me. I can forget about it. It can't get much worse than it already is."

"Don't let Minnie bother you, y/n. She's just upset, it'll blow over."

"I guess."

Passing time with Seokmin felt like exactly what you needed, he was able to take your mind off of anything negative that was going on, part of his basket you didn't see were the set of matching pajamas with both of your favorite Sanrio characters embroidered on the front. He told you he was saving them for a special day, but today was the perfect time to bring them.

Now with warm brownies made and Seokmin's famous lemonade you sit cuddled on your couch, watching the intro to 10 things I hate about you plastered on the big LED screen.

Your phone buzzed on the table, waking you from being zoned out. a name flashed on the screen, one that wasn't a threat to how happy you've felt the past few hours, Minghao.

"Seok, is it okay that I invited someone?"

"Oh, who is it?"

"Well, Minghao texted me and wanted to hangout. I don't feel like I should shut him out just because of what happened."

"Are you going to tell him to call his dogs off?"

"Yeah, I think I will at least for now."

"Minghao's always been nice, he'll understand."

"I hope so."

After another half hour of watching Kat fall in love with Patrick on your screen and singing along with Seokmin to the movie soundtrack a knock came from your front door.

Unwrapping yourself from the warmth of your friend, you crawled off the couch wrapped in a blanket and ran to answer it.

"I thought I told you not to wear something nice?"

Minghao was dressed in a cozy pair of cargo sweats and a big hoodie, carrying a larger than normal leather tote bag.

"Well, I wasn't about to show up in my boxers. I like your pajamas though."

"Thank you, Seokmin brought them for me. We got matching ones, sort of silly I know. You may laugh."

"No, they look cute. I brought you guys some snacks and wine as a sorry for intruding."

Seokmin's loud voice cheered from your couch.

"Wow, Minghao. If someone doesn't snatch you up soon I might have to. Hi, by the way."

Minghao took your previous spot on the couch, next to Seokmin getting him with a cute handshake.

"How is everything guys?"

"Well, good now. Y/N had sort of a rough morning."

"Yeah, I saw the posts. Did something happen?"

"Well, Minnie freaked out on me of course and I told her to move out. So, I had just been cleaning before Seok came and rescued me."

"Oh, wow. I'm sorry."

"It's alright. It happens I guess."

Seokmin forced Minghao to let you sit in between the middle of them after noticing you searching around the room for the best place to sit.

"Come on, loser."

Your butt found its perfect missing piece sitting between two of your friends both new and old.

"Should we watch Twilight? Minghao's never seen them."

"You've never seen Twilight? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Minghao's eyes opened wider than you had ever seen them, probably embarrassed that the two of you made this little moment about him.

"Stop acting like that's the weirdest thing ever? You guys are crazy."

"Oh my god, you're going to love this Hao."

Seokmin queued up the movie, watching the title sequence splash across the screen as you watched Minghao experience the blue toned film for the first time, catching glimpses at him at all of your favorite parts.

After the movie ended Seokmin was sleeping up against your side, cutely snoring. You tried to subtly remove yourself from him without scaring the daylights out of the by, you woke him up, Minghao was already up and next to your side helping you move the sleeping puppy into your bedroom, so he could get a good nights sleep.

"Thank you."

"I should, get going."

"Oh no, stay here. You can either stay on the couch or you can take Minnie's room, I changed the sheets already."

"What about you?"

"Oh, I'll probably stay up for a while, I have some shit to take care of."

"Are you sure, I'm not intruding?"

"No, shut up. It's late and raining stay here."

"Okay, I'll stay wherever. Thank you."

"No please, stay in the extra room. It's more comfy."

"I think you should, the couch is nice and warm anyway. I like the fireplace."

With a nod you grabbed Minghao a few pillows and an extra toothbrush and snuck away to the room that used to belong to Minnie, packing away her stuff as a final gesture to someone you used to call your best friend.

Minghao, walked through the closed doorway to find you sitting on your wooden floor, tears drying up on your cheeks, looking at photos of your friends.

He placed the two glasses of red wine, beside you and bent to sit criss cross adjacent to you.

"Sorry I woke you up."

"No, you didn't actually. I was just reading on my phone, I usually go to bed pretty late."

"Oh, okay. This is pathetic isn't it?"

"What? Being upset? No, it isn't."

"No, just me, crying over this. I mean I made most of this mess in the first place and here I am crying over people I hurt no matter how badly they hurt me before. I mean, seeing Mingyu and Minnie hanging out, Joshua and Mimi, I just like am making myself a victim when I'm also to blame."

"Y/n, you are a victim in this too. It maybe doesn't feel like it, but just because you hurt someone doesn't mean they get to hurt you back."

"I guess."

"Does Minnie and Mingyu being alone together bug you?"

"No, she's right as much as I hate to admit it. It can't bother me they're friends too, I guess I just didn't see that coming.

Minghao pics up a polaroid photo of you and Joshua wearing matching college sweatshirts, dated September 15.

"Was this your first day of classes?"

Your laugh came after a couple of sniffles, admiring the smiling pair in the photos.

"Yeah, our mom's were best friends growing up and naturally so were we. We got accepted into the same university, so our first day they took far too many pictures of us. I wonder why Minnie has it?"

"Maybe, by mistake?"

"Yeah, maybe. I normally keep all my pictures in a box under my bed."

Something in your gut was telling you that Minnie having that picture of you in her room wasn't by mistake, but you chose to shove it down continuing your trip down memory lane with Minghao.

"Oh my god."

Minghao held up a picture of you, you were standing with Minnie at a halloween party outside with drinks in hand, dressed up as sexy bottles of ketchup and mustard.

"No, that's so embarrassing throw it away."

You tried to grab the picture out of Minghao's grip as he was sprawled across the floor giggling over you dressed up with a red cone on your head.

"I didn't think Ketchup could be so sexy, y/n."

"Shut up, that's awful. I don't even remember that. I look so stupid."

"No you look nice, actually very original for the sexy girl costume trope."

"Ha- Ha, very funny."

Minghao handed you your glass of wine, laughter now dying out as you sat in silence surrounded by polaroids of your past.

"Can I tell you something, y/n?"

"Yeah, always."

"Well, I found out where the first tweet was posted from, not me actually, Wonwoo. It came from your wifi network, so whoever posted it was in your apartment that first night."

A pit came to your gut, the same apartment you were in now, the walls suddenly looked darker and you decided on chugging the alcohol in front of you.

"Do you know anything else?"

"No, just that the network assigned was yours."

"Can we maybe, stop sleuthing just for awhile? I don't know what to do anymore. I'm really thankful you guys wanted to help me, I just, I get a feeling there's more to this that I don't know or even want to find out right now."

Minghao just shook his head, holding up the bottle of wine asking you if you needed more, which of course you obliged.

"Want to watch something with me?"

"More twilight?"

"No, not more twilight. Seokmin wouldn't be happy to miss that. Maybe, Princess Diaries?"

"I love that movie."

"Me too, come on."

You crawled into the bed, tapping the covers asking him to sit next to you.

"Turn the light off, come on I don't bite."

"Can I confess something embarrassing? I used to think the brother in this movie was someone from the Beatles."

"Oh my god, me too. And that the mom from the parent trap was Princess Diana."

Minghao laughed, reliving a part of his childhood climbing into the bed next to you, afraid to get too close.

You on the other hand were as comfortable as ever, cuddling under the covers, clutching a pillow in your lap watching Anne Hathaway on screen.

By the time Mia was getting her makeover Minghao and you were sleeping peacefully side by side.

✧.* taglist: @sun-daddy-yoriichi,@hipsdofangirl @kissesfrmwonwoo, @minhui896, @wonwooz1, @porridgesblog, @punkhazardlaw, @jasssy051,

[andro-studiesmed]

JOURNAL ENTRY - JULY 1, 2024

I have my send up exams starting from tomorrow on the 2nd of July. It's just this very moment I've realised that July started just a few minutes ago. Time is passing rather quickly and much more quicker than I can even comprehend it passing.

I haven't prepared for these exams at all. It's not me exaggerating out of lack of self esteem or self confidence. There are no excuses but there are plenty explanations as to why.

I momentarily lost to my demons. I don't know if calling the defeating voices even demons is right because I don't really mind them. They aren't Villains to me. Just companions. Companions capable of convincing me to self sabotage pretty well.

I gave up fighting for a while. I wasn't eating or sleeping let alone studying. Something in me just couldn't, it didn't even matter that I had wanted to. I just couldn't.

So during those days— I skipped dinner, lunch and breakfast. I slept at 4-6 am. I survived on eating snacks once a day and it didn't even matter because I didn't have any appetite at all.

I still don't have an appetite.

Then I came across a post here that talked about having to start from the scratch— eating was one of those things. I'd forgotten that for me to sometimes become functional — I need to always start from scratch.

So I made sure I was eating atleast no matter what. Then it went to sleep— and I made myself sleep before 2 am atleast. Then it went to hygiene— brushing teeth, bathing. Then to studying and getting other things done.

I haven't been able to study without a show running in the background. So today I allowed myself to body double by letting a serial run in the background. That helped me study through most of the day. I was extremely slow but I studied.

The guilt always remains because I see others who don't need all this. They study the "proper" way. My voices make me guilty when I don't study like the "normal" people. My mind tends to resist everything.

No one realises that the things that people don't even think before getting done are the very same things that are tasks for me.

People around me don't know I struggle like this, neither does my family because I know they won't understand, they can't help me and that would make everything feel so much worse. You know there comes a point when you get tired— of having to explain and still not feeling like you are being heard, understood or seen. Thats what it feels like and I feel like a burden. My problems are my own to solve. I cannot, will not burden someone with this.

But I know this isn't depression— I don't feel sadness. I feel sad at the fact that I can't function the way normal people rather than being not able to function because I'm sad. I felt scattered.

So, for the days I couldn't functional — I couldn't prepare. So I fear I might fail all my exams. I don't know.

Cheers to breaking down and getting back up again.

[luvrodite]

ok ok dad jason and his diary about his baby growing up…

he ends up treating it like a real diary and writes some pretty honest and intense things in there. talking about how he used this as a bridge to make up with dick, how no matter how scared he was that this was the first time he’s had hope in such a long time. that some nights he would let his fear of failure and being a parent get the best of him, and shed tears while whispering “i’m so sorry you’re mine” to the baby. that sometimes he feels SO helpless as he watches mom struggle to breastfeed and sob because she feels like she’s failing, too.

but these entries are sandwiched between moments where he writes about how baby smiled for the first time, and jason swears he never felt love like that before. that baby rolled over for the first time, lifted their head up on their own, learned how to clap and thinks sneezes are the funniest. that he watches mom lay on the floor and play with baby and finally feels complete.

he stops writing in the journal as consistently as the baby begins to toddle. he’ll write entries as he remembers, saying how much he misses baby while they’re at preschool/daycare. that they came home with sloppy hand turkey art for thanksgiving and he swears he’s never seen anything greater. but he starts to go months, years without writing. it eventually ends up forever untouched when baby reaches age 7, and shoved into a closet somewhere.

when the kid is a teenager, and deep in their teen angst where they hate everyone/everything, they have a chore to help sort out the hall closet. they find the journal and start reading through it, and never realized how much their father went through. i don’t think jason will ever be able to fully articulate feelings, and he never planned on telling their kid just how difficult his life was before, and especially not during those first few years of baby’s life and was still learning that he deserved a life like this.

jason comes home and finds them on the floor, poring through the worn journal. he stops in his tracks because he never really planned on giving the journal to his kid, and he honestly forgot about it. they have this heart to heart on the floor, talking through the tensions that had been building up between them in the past few months. a lot of teenage angst “well i’m sorry i ruined your life!” or “i bet you just wish i was never born!” sort of things, lots of twisting words and miscommunication. i’m team girl dad!jason, so for me it’s him and his 15 year old daughter talking, sitting against the wall, with her head on his shoulder. it’s the first time he is really transparent and open with her emotionally, talking about how having her truly changed his life, but it was never for the worse.

anyway it strengthens their relationship and she is unabashedly a daddy’s girl again, and life in the house feels a lot smoother. mom finds them sleepy against the wall after a long talk and lots of tears.

sorry this is so long LOL i spent my lunch doing this. maybe one day id turn it into a real fic who knows. anyway love u ro 💖

i love u ro thank u for sending this in i don't think i can add anything to this except to say that this version of dad jason is unfortunately so very me and my father except we did NOT talk about it lmao (i do love my baba very much though)

this breaks my heart in the best way i'm going to be thinking about this for a really long time

[theewriterdiaries]

Maybe. - Journal Entry #2

When I read your words, I cried. You thought it was out of sadness, but it was anger. Anger wasn’t a new emotion for me, but a common phrase I’d made my motto was, “disappointed but not surprised.” Cliché, I know. But sometimes cliché and mundane things are the most real.

I wanted closure, and to be honest, I still don’t have it. It’s a myth that you ever get true closure. I never tried to get closure from you because it was clear to me that I wouldn’t receive any even if I tried. The truth is you weren’t a bad person. But you did a really terrible thing that I couldn’t forgive. And then you made me seem like the bad guy.

If I set boundaries, I became uptight, bitchy, and a bad friend because I wasn’t willing to tolerate everything I’d sat there and tolerated in the past. If I told you the truth, I became a liar, because apparently my jealousy was making me say rash things.

I told you I was sorry, but I lied. I am not usually the one to become all egotistical and say that I did absolutely nothing wrong. But this time, I truly felt like I didn’t. Even now, looking back, I can’t think of a single thing I would’ve changed. I don’t regret leaving, and I think you truly thought I would come back to you eventually. I think you truly believed that time would heal everything and that I would just come running back to you and tell you I was sorry. You only thought this because I’d done it all those times before.

But even now, years later, I don’t forgive you. I don’t know if I ever will be able to. You hurt me, betrayed me, lied to me, took advantage of me, and then expected me to forgive you in the blink of an eye all because I’d been so forgiving in the past.

I loved you. I loved you so much. And while I know that my words have a harsh, bitter sting to them, it’s only because I loved you so much that I say these words so harshly. You were there for me in my darkest times. You saw the darkest side of me, a side I wouldn’t show to anyone else. Can I ever be that vulnerable with anyone ever again, I ask myself sometimes. Because the fear that maybe they’ll betray me the way you betrayed me haunts me.

You told me you’d changed, but you knew how many times I’d heard those same words from him. Him. The one you had warned me to leave. You knew his words were falsities. I never took your advice.

The confusion you had when I chose to leave you so soon, yet stayed with him for so long pains me. I know you were confused and hurt, and I didn’t mean for it to seem like I was doing it to spite you. Truly, I left because I could not handle being with someone who’d betray me so quickly. I’d learned my lesson, I’d grown, I realized where to draw the line. And while I know that, to you, it seemed unfair because I gave him hundreds of chances and hardly even given you a second chance, it’s because I had finally realized my worth.

You meant so much to me which is why it hurt so badly.

I don’t mean to make you feel like shit. I understand that these words probably feel like salt in the wound. You finally apologized, and the apology was beautiful. I wanted to believe it, but the words on that paper could’ve been just as much of a lie as the ones you had told me for eight months. How could I ever trust you again?

And maybe that was my fault for not trusting you again. For letting my fears and trust issues get in the way of our friendship. But maybe my emotions were valid. Valid because you lied to me and hurt me, and sometimes “sorry” doesn’t undo the damage.

I know it was only one fight and I know we had been friends for so long. How could I let the friendship go after one fight? But I hope that someday you can find the strength to know your worth the way I was able to find mine.

I don’t hate you. I never did. Even in the midst of everything. Even now, when I realize I may never be able to forgive you.

You were so good to me, and I am not going to let the hurt and pain blur or dull all of the good memories I know I can hold onto for a lifetime.

Maybe someday we’ll see each other in a grocery store and share a laugh or two. We’ll have kids and a spouse and a good career. We’ll be living the life we always wanted. And maybe this hurt will fade away and all that will be remembered are the good times.

Maybe.

[stargazer-sims]

Epilogue (Journal Entry #62)

Postscript (Journal Entry #61) // STORY INDEX

Victor

I have everything I've ever wanted.

Not many people can say that, and I feel exceptionally privileged to be among the lucky few.

I know we said we weren't going to use our journal any more, but earlier tonight as I was packing up for our flight home, I was struck by the feeling that I needed to record one last entry. To be honest, I haven't even thought about our journal in over six months, not since our anniversary trip to Sulani, but I remembered something Yuri said to me during our visit to the islands and I kinda wanted to share my feelings.

He asked me if I'd ever felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be in life. At the time, I’d said no. I told him I wasn't there yet because there were still things I wanted.

The funny part is, I just realized today that I'd misunderstood the question. I thought he'd been talking about tangible, definable things like good health, a nice home, a job, or the support of family. And yeah, maybe that was part of it, but what I think he really meant was something less easy to measure; confidence, self-worth, happiness, and the knowledge that we really do have an impact on the world and the people around us.

I should have said yes. Sitting there on the balcony of our Sulani rental cottage, gazing at the sea with my brave, beautiful, intelligent husband by my side, I could easily have said I had it all. I was happy, secure and loved, and everything seemed perfect. But, unfortunately, I hadn’t viewed the question that way because my mind had been on all the things I still wanted to accomplish, such as going to university, finding a new job, and of course getting back to competing in my sport.

Now I have all those things too, and more besides. If you've got a minute to stay and listen, I'll tell you all about it.

Maybe I should've mentioned from the start that we're currently in Switzerland, 'cause it probably isn't obvious from the inside of this hotel room. Like, it's an upscale hotel, but it's pretty generic as far as hotels go and I don't think there's anything particularly Swiss about it.

We've been here for the past week, for the FIS World Snowboarding Championship, and let me just say, it's been an absolute whirlwind of travel, activity and excitement. Tonight's been the first opportunity I've had to stop and process it all, and I think I'm going to need a while for some of it to fully sink in.

As you guys already know, last season ended catastrophically for me, but it wasn't as epic a disaster as I initially imagined. I was doing really well up until my accident, with top-three finishes in a handful of qualifying competitions. As it turned out, my wins from last season plus my wins from this current season were enough to qualify me for two events at Worlds this year, super-G and my best event, parallel giant slalom. I may have mentioned it before, but the world championship competition for snowboarding is held every second year, so if you’re confused about why last year’s points counted, that’s why.

I was thrilled about qualifying, needless to tell you, and so was Davey, my coach. I've qualified for Worlds twice before, but didn't do as well as I'd hoped on either attempt. This time, I was confident going into it, and I was ready physically as well as psychologically.

That's not to say I wasn't nervous. I think a person would have to be crazy not to be at least a little nervous about hurtling down the side of a mountain at seventy-five kilometres per hour with nothing but a helmet, wrist guards, and the grace of the Watcher to protect them. But, alpine snowboarding isn't a sport for people who don't know how to conquer their fear. Out there on the mountain, fear could literally kill you. Any kind of distraction could, and every time I think about my crash last January I'm reminded of that, and of how lucky I am to be back on my board and still able to compete at this level.

Anyway, seven days ago me and Yuri boarded a plane for Switzerland along with Davey, his partner Lindsey, and their sign language interpreter Kayley. Having travelled with Davey before, I knew what to expect, but I think it was jarring for Yuri. Davey and Lindsey are both super loud, and it's not entirely because they're deaf and can't hear themselves properly. They're just... extreme. Like, they bring the party with them wherever they go and it’s never a quiet affair.

By the time we reached our destination, all Yuri wanted to do was hide in our hotel room. He said he'd had enough of interacting with other people, and told me that he wouldn't mind if I wanted to go hang out with some of the other athletes on my own. I decided to stay with him because my first event was on the following afternoon, and I like to get lots of rest the day before I compete. As much as I enjoy a good social gathering, I didn't want to break my ritual. Athletes can be superstitious, and it'd be silly to try convincing you I'm an exception.

So, you're wondering how I did in that first event, right? I came in third, which earned me a bronze medal. That was the highest I'd ever placed at any event at Worlds, and even if I didn't win anything else, I would've been totally satisfied with that.

But, there was still my second event. In the middle of the week, I made it through the elimination races, and the final for the men's parallel giant slalom was yesterday morning.

I woke up early, too excited and full of adrenaline to sleep as much as I should have. I slipped out of bed and headed for the shower, trying not to wake Yuri as I went. My efforts were in vain, however. I was only in the bathroom for about ten minutes, and when I exited it, I saw a very sleepy-looking Yuri sitting up in bed and talking on the phone to somebody. The second thing I noticed was that he had my phone.

"Yes, I want to tell him, but I'm not sure that's a good idea right before his event," Yuri was saying. He was speaking English. "Maybe we can call you after—"

"Who are you talking to?" I asked.

Yuri looked up, clearly startled. "Oh! Victor, I didn't hear you coming out. It... it's your mother. I'm sorry. I saw the caller ID, and I decided I'd better answer it."

"It's okay," I said. "Can you put it on speaker?"

He lowered the phone from his face and touched the speaker button as I flopped onto the bed next to him. "You're on speaker now, Dr. Grace," he said. "Victor's right here."

"Hi Mom," I said. "What's up? Everything okay? It's like, the literal middle of the night where you are, isn't it?"

"Yes," Mom said. "I think you're five hours ahead of us."

I glanced at the time display on the top of my phone screen. "Mom! It's one-thirty in the morning over there! Why aren't you in bed?"

My mother laughed. "Excuse me, sir. Which one of us is the parent in this relationship?"

"Sorry," I said, but I was relieved she sounded so upbeat. I told myself that her reason for phoning couldn't be anything too bad, or she wouldn't be joking with me. "Seriously, what's up?"

"I checked your mailbox after work today. You got a letter from the university."

"Really? What does it say?"

"I wasn't about to open your mail, was I?" she said. "But, I knew you'd want to know straight away."

"And you waited until it was morning here, so you could tell me as soon as possible?" I met Yuri's gaze. "And you didn't want her to tell me before my event."

"I didn't want you to get distracted," he said. "I thought it'd be better to wait until later."

"I guess I can't get mad about that," I conceded. "I mean, it makes sense, and I'm glad you were looking out for me, but now I'm going to be distracted if I don't know what it says."

"What if it's not good news?" Yuri asked.

"Either way," I said.

"I have the letter," Mom said. "Do you want me to open it and read it to you?"

"Yes, please."

We could hear her opening the envelope. Yuri reached for my hand.

The university's application deadline for the nursing program had been the first of November, and I'd gotten everything submitted on time. According to the admissions website, applications would have one of three decision statuses — rejected, accepted or waitlisted — and decision letters would start going out around the end of March or beginning of April.

Now, here we were at the very end of March, and we'd arrived at the proverbial moment of truth.

"Okay," Mom said. "Are you ready?"

I nodded, mostly because I was too worked up to speak, and Yuri said, "He's ready."

"Dear Mr. Okamoto-Nelson," my mom read. "After a careful review of your application, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Bachelor of Nursing program. We will be pleased to welcome you as a new student in the fall semester."

There was more, but I didn't take in anything after the first couple sentences. Yuri flung himself into my arms with a little cry of joy, and we nearly rolled off the bed in our excitement. Poor Mom was trying to explain something about registration fees and student health insurance, but we weren't paying attention.

When we finally composed ourselves, I apologized and asked Mom to keep the letter for me until we got home. I knew there would be things to do and deadlines to have them done by, but at that moment, the competition was priority one. I couldn't lose sight of why I was here in the mountains of Switzerland. As overjoyed as I was about the news that I'd gotten accepted into nursing school, I couldn't let it take my focus away from what I was doing today, not so much because I wanted to win, but because of what I said before. Distractions can be deadly.

"I'll let you go for now," Mom said. "You can call me later and let me know how the competition went."

"We'll definitely call you," I said.

"I'll be looking forward to it. Good luck, and be safe."

I thanked her, and then we said goodbye and hung up. It took me a while to calm down after that, and Yuri had to help me do some concentration exercises.

Once I sorted myself out and we were both dressed and ready, we met Davey, Lindsey and Kayley for breakfast. After that, Yuri and I went back to our room to collect Elsa and the rest of my gear, and then we all headed to the venue.

When we got there, I tried not to look around too much, but it was hard to ignore the huge crowd that had already gathered to watch the competition. We hadn't even started yet, and people were already cheering, using noisemakers, and waving flags of various countries. I think the flags were mostly Swiss, but I spotted lots of others. There were even a few Canadian red maple leaves among them.

It was obvious that even with the help of his hearing aids, Davey was struggling to hear amid the ambient noise from so many people. I was the one competing, but he looked extraordinarily stressed. I was sure it was the confusing jumble of sounds that was upsetting him more than thoughts of the competition though, and I couldn't help wondering how he coped with it when he was still a competitor himself.

I soon found out. Lindsey poked him to get his attention, and then signed something to him. He grinned at her before deftly tugging his hearing aids out and putting them in the front pocket of his coat.

He gave us the thumbs-up, and then practically yelled, "Yes! Sweet silence!"

I lost it.

Laughter did the trick. I instantly felt more relaxed, and although I knew Davey hadn't been trying to be funny on purpose, I still offered him one of the few ASL signs I know. "Thank you."

He signed something to Kayley, and she told me, "He says you're welcome, and also he's going to leave his hearing aids in his pocket. I'll come up to the top of the run to help you." She paused while Davey signed something else. "Because he wants to give you the best damn pep talk ever."

"Sounds good," I said, and when Kayley interpreted that for Davey, it was his turn to laugh.

"Okay, my dude, let's get up there!" he said loudly. "You're gonna crush it!"

"Here's hoping," I said.

I turned to Yuri, and just like at every competition he attends with me, he put my helmet on me. He stood on tiptoe to give me a kiss, and then while our heads were still close together, he whispered. "I love you."

My heart was full with that simple phrase all the way up the mountain, but at the top of the run, it was a different story. I don't know if you've ever heard athletes or performers talk about being in the zone, but it's like this intense state of hyper-focus where nothing exists except the task in front of you. I don't experience it every single time I compete, but most of the time I do, and this morning I was totally in the zone.

I was in the middle of the start order, and there were about eight riders ahead of me. When it was my turn, there was nothing in my mind except the mountain and the snow and the course of red and blue flags stretching out in front of me. I was aware of every muscle in my body and every breath and each beat of my heart. I snapped my boots into Elsa's bindings, and waited for the starting buzzer.

I barely remember the run itself. All I know is, it was fast. Elsa and I were flying, and it felt glorious.

I didn't even realize I'd won until Davey found me later at the bottom of the run. He was screaming in my face about a record-breaking time, and I honestly wasn't sure if he was talking about me or somebody else.

In fact, the reality of my victory didn't truly hit me until the event was over, and Davey was dragging me towards the area where the medal presentation was taking place. They presented the bronze medal to a Swiss rider, and the hometown crowd cheered their hearts out for him, so much so that we could barely hear the recorded national anthem playing as the FIS official placed the medal around his neck. A Norwegian guy won silver, and he got a pretty healthy cheer from the supporters too.

Then, over the slightly crackly public address system, I heard. "And now, the presentation of the gold medal. Please congratulate your FIS World Champion in men's parallel giant slalom. Representing Canada... Victor Okamoto-Nelson!"

For a second or two, I didn't move. Davey nudged my shoulder and urged me forward with a not-so-subtle, "Dude, go!"

I was simultaneously crying and smiling when the official put the medal around my neck. As O Canada played on the speakers, I searched the crowd for Yuri. He was right there in front with Lindsey beside him, and they were holding up a huge Canadian flag between them. I have no idea where they’d gotten it from, but the sight of it and Yuri's brilliant smile ensured that the happy tears didn't stop running down my face until well after the anthem finished playing.

The only way I can describe it is: Best. Day. Ever.

As I was putting my stuff in my suitcase this evening, I kept glancing over at my medals on the nightstand. They were going in mine and Yuri's shared carry-on bag, and I wanted them to be the last things I packed. Not gonna lie, I was tempted to leave them there on the bedside table until morning so I could see them when I woke up, but I ultimately decided not to do that. There'd be plenty of time to admire them when we got home.

After I finished packing, I picked Elsa up from the floor and placed her on the bed. Yuri never used to like it when I put my snowboard on the furniture, especially the bed, but he seemed to change his mind about it after my accident last year. I lay down next to my board and rested my hand on her. Her smooth surface was cool against my palm, and her bright blue and yellow paint job stood out in contrast against the muted beige of the hotel bed's duvet.

"We did it, Elsa," I said aloud. "Sometimes dreams really do come true."

That's how Yuri found me several minutes later when he'd finished enjoying his bath, lying curled on my side and idly stroking my snowboard. I must've looked ridiculous, but he didn't say anything about it. He just climbed onto the enormous bed with me. Wrapped in one of the hotel's luxurious bathrobes and smelling of chocolate from the fancy hotel shampoo, his presence was warm and sweet.

He cuddled against my back and slid an arm over me, trying to be the big spoon despite his tiny size. His voice was soft, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," I said. "Just thinking."

"Anything you want to share?"

"I'm going to nursing school."

"You are," he agreed.

"I won a gold medal. A World Championship gold medal."

"You did," he acknowledged. "And a bronze one."

"Yeah." I closed my eyes and let myself soak in the comforting feeling of his little body pressed close to mine. "You know what's weird?"

"What?" he said.

"I'm happy about it and I'm proud of myself, but like... I don't know if it's the medals that're important, or something else."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You wanted to know what I was thinking about," I said. "I was thinking about Sulani, and how you asked me if I ever had the feeling of having everything I ever wanted."

"I remember."

"I said I didn't, but I think I missed the point of what you were asking."

"Oh?"

"You weren't talking about things, were you? Like going on a trip or getting accepted at university or winning a medal."

"No, I suppose I wasn't," he said. "It was more abstract than that."

"I get it now," I said. "It's not about doing stuff or getting something. It really is more abstract than that. It's like, being satisfied with where you are and with what you've accomplished so far, and just... being content with your life and the way the people around you make you feel."

"Yes," he said. "That's what I meant. I felt that in Sulani. I feel it right this minute."

"Me too," I said. "I felt that way in Sulani too. I'm sorry I didn't understand."

"It's all right," he said. "I'm glad you understand now."

I do get it now, and maybe it's gonna sound strange to say that it took me winning the most important competition of my athletic career to figure it out, but there it is. I'm thrilled about the medals and I can't wait to show them off, but they're not what I value the most. My biggest source of pride is in the fact that I battled my way back from one of the lowest points in my existence to make it to this place. Last January, I thought life as I'd known it was over. For a while, I lost sight of everything; my goals, my hopes and dreams, and even my will to go on. Yet here I am today, a world champion.

A world champion.

And I couldn't have done it without Yuri or my mom and Julian. I couldn't have done it without Sakura, Davey, and all the other friends and family members who love and support me and who never gave up on me. I'm a champion thanks to them, but more importantly I'm happy and I know that I'm valued, safe and loved.

So yeah... I have it all, and I know I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

[gnawer-of-table-legs]

THE SEEKER (SOUL VOID) HEADCANONS, THEORIES, AND ANALYSIS

SPOILERS!!!! OI!!!

tw: brief self harm mention, car crashes, death, blood mention, mental health struggles (is that too vague?). Let me know if anything needs to be added.

Demi and pan

The guy ever ❤️

has a fear of failure. It’s pretty intense, but I’m not sure if it’s to the level of Atychiphobia since Atychiphobia will usually result in the individual avoiding situations in which they could fail, and he definitely doesn’t. But. It sure does come close.

if he ever played DND he’d play a neutral good wizard. It’s the research aspect for him.

probably died in the 1960s. Fedoras had begun to fall out of fashion in the 70s, so it would give him a good time period to be wearing those (the fashion died when he did 😔)

ALSO: Car safety regulations began to be a concern in the 1970s. There, manufacturers started offering airbags and anti-lock brakes, better seatbelts, etc.

quote from a source I ain’t citing: ��President Johnson signed the National Traffic and Motor Vehicle Safety Act of 1966 into law on September 9, 1966”

I’d like to imagine he died right before those car safety regulations. For the Irony.

He canonically uses phrases like “post-haste” so I’m putting him in the humanities field. Maybe history major with a minor in philosophy. (Did they have majors and minors back then? Probably not in the same way we do now)

Because he died trying to get someone out of a car crash, I assume that he had been one of the people in the car when it crashed— otherwise, how would he have lost his life by just approaching the car and trying to pull people out? Sure, Fire/car exploding is possible. But since he’s shown to have glass shards stuck in the same places where his scars are, I assume that he died from the broken glass of the car -> over exerted himself trying to save others and bled out.

The Seeker is completely unaware of how many void residents stan him (we all saw the Husk’s mural of him)

(is it a mural if its on the floor?)

Probably has imposter syndrome.

bitchass motherfucker would cry at sad movie scenes (unless someone else is also crying)

some theories:

It’s been confirmed that a soul’s journey through the SV depends on the soul itself. There was a guy in the Respite Biome that described a starkly different experience than the player’s, and then came to conclusion that the journey was different for everyone. However, I still think souls can cross paths if they share something in common with other souls. So if each biome represents an aspect of the individual’s trauma, then the biomes in which the Seeker has been should give insights on his character, right? Because he talked to the Respite Entity and inspired them to make a change before leaving— and yet the Leech does not seem to have met him (with how lucid she is about her situation, she would definitely have been able to collaborate with the Seeker in some way, and yet he isn’t mentioned). Even though the Leech Biome (guilt, I think— guilt and being toxic/parasitic in relationships) is very close to the Respite in the player’s journey, the Seeker does not come across it because it is not a trauma he shares. His books do not appear there.

He and his books appear in the grasping forest (wanting something always out of reach, implied to be happiness, loss of self*), his books are in the enamel core and the veiny area (idk what these represent), the Sketchyard (feeling of not being good enough despite efforts to improve/bring joy to others), and the respite. *he is shown to be afraid of losing his sense of self, both in his journal entries and when he’s dying on the ground.

The glass shards area (before the Leeches and after the Respite) probably has to do with his death. Idk why the player can access it, unless they also have trauma relating to car crashes/etc— or maybe it’s more generic. Maybe that biome stands for broken glass or sharp things in general (sharp things and allusions to self harm appear throughout the player’s journey, along with a glass bottle that is so pivotal to their character that it is used as one of the three keys to access the Grim).

I think a big theme for his character is how talking with people who share your trauma/experiences or can relate to them can be helpful to both know you aren’t alone, and to share stories/coping methods. The Seeker is able to traverse many biomes (although not all) because he shares their trauma somewhat. This is further cemented by his ability to sense others emotions by touching them.

Not all souls who share experiences form healthy relationships, of course. Some can become unhealthy/manipulative/dependent (ahem ahem, Grim and Leech). The individual needs to take steps to maintain healthy relationships (as is with any relationship, regardless of who is involved).

@captain-will

Now that you’ve finished the game I have released the hcs

[knickynoo]

HI HELLO how are you doing? i was wondering, do you have any headcanons on how marty and doc's family would respond to finding out about doc's participation in the manhattan project? i would love to hear your take on it :D

Hi! Doing well, thanks. :) Sorry for the delayed reply. Part of why I didn't answer it sooner is because I honestly haven't given too much thought to Manhattan Project Doc, so I didn't have any headcanons ready to go. Also, I had to keep reminding myself that you sent the ask in because my instinct was, "Ohh, Dary would be much better equipped to field this question!"

My headcanons are going to be pretty bare-bones since 40s Doc isn't really my forte, but here are a couple of thoughts.

Even though Doc didn't have a close relationship with his father by any means, Erhardt approved of his involvement in the project. We know that he wasn't thrilled with Emmett's preoccupation with science, but discovering that his son was able to use his skills to help the war effort managed to impress him (though I doubt he openly expressed it). Maybe all he could ever muster was a pat on the shoulder or a nod, but he couldn't deny that Emmett was capable, incredibly intelligent, and one of the best in his field—otherwise, he never would have gotten tapped to partake in the project.

Some support for this from Doc's journal in the DeLorean manual! In the entry about Erhardt's death, he writes: "I do believe in his own way he took pride in the fact that I participated in the Manhattan Project and helped win the war."

I think Doc's mother would have more complicated feelings. Mostly, I think it'd stem from concern for her son and all he endured while participating in the project. Whereas Erhardt was very hands-off and cold, Sarah Brown was close to Emmett, and I can see her being worried about him in the aftermath of finding out. I like to imagine her as protective and loving in general with him, so it'd probably only increase in intensity as she fussed over him and tried to make sure he was alright.

When I try to picture Marty finding out about Doc's involvement, I just see him going really quiet, getting all wide-eyed, and going, "Whoa." It was probably a lot to process at first, and maybe he even assumed that Doc was kidding around, but he realized quickly that it wasn't a joke. I think he would have found out fairly early on into his friendship with Doc. I mean, Doc literally felt confident he could trust Marty on the very first day they met, so I don't think Doc would hold too much back from him. And seeing as that would make Marty pretty young still, I think he cycled through a bunch of different reactions to it. There was a deep sense of curiosity, of course, and he had dozens of questions to ask and wanted to hear whatever stories Doc had. There might have been a sense of intimidation as well. Not fear or anything; I don't think Marty would be afraid or upset, but I can see it being more of, "Wow, this was a major event in history that I've learned about in school, and my Best Friend played a major role. What do I even do with this information now?" I also think Marty would eventually arrive at the point where the reality sunk in, and he acknowledged that the period of time took a toll on Doc. He'd seen and experienced things that changed him, and the project is something that would always follow him. Perhaps a Serious Talk happens between the two of them as a result of it all being out in the open.

That's about all I've got. Thanks for the ask!

[vickyvicarious]

I remember when Jonathan first talked about his nocturnal existence causing him to have fragile nerves -or something of the sort- and being startled at his own shadow, he stopped reporting how bad his nerves are from it. Despite having to spend hours with Dracula every night unless told otherwise. Mina after the first few times she woke up for Lucy, she reported the same toll on her health from being awakened and then unable to go back to sleep, but she's not talking about how tired she is anymore. Despite having to be up for Lucy's sleepwalking every night unless told otherwise. She keeps track of Lucy's health, not her own.

Yeah! They both leave out these kinds of ongoing stressors for themselves. We have to look for clues and read between the lines to realize that, hey, Dracula is still keeping Jonathan up for long chats throughout basically the entire stay, or wow Mina must be beat.

And it makes sense in a way. They both have higher priorities. Jonathan has limited freedom to write and paper to write on, and is focused on talking about Dracula's inhumanity and his own efforts to escape. Mina uses her diary to talk a lot about her worries and fears but she is mainly focused on Lucy. Her journal reflects her desire to meet the responsibility for Lucy's care that she's been given, and her own state isn't as important compared to that.

At least to her. I care a lot about it, and the way both of them just don't talk about how badly they're doing - or try to downplay it when they do - hurts to think about. At least we know they love one another so much that they will absolutely look after each other's health and wellbeing assiduously. But they've got a tendency to push themselves really hard and just act like it's nothing. A part of me wonders if it stems (partially, I think it's definitely personality too) from their orphan backgrounds - they're used to having to work hard and to perhaps not being given the space or importance to linger on their own upsets or ailments. They are practiced at focusing on what needs to get done instead.

...anyways, you know what I love to imagine? How their respective journals look over time. They both start out written neatly, with precise lines and perhaps a fair bit of effort put in to getting the shorthand right. Jonathan's gets messy first: writing entries on a bumpy carriage ride will do that to you. Mina has to practice writing really quickly when interviewing Mr. Swales, and her handwriting takes on more of a slant... Jonathan's gets smaller over time, both to reflect his more secretive mindset and also how he's trying to preserve all the space he can. Sometimes his hand shakes so much that the shorthand is hard to read, maybe a page is even torn a little. Mina's writing gets larger when she's exhausted, sometimes her pen lingers long enough to almost blot or trails off. Some of her entries might be pen, some pencil. Jonathan's all pencil, and you can see when he needed to resharpen it. I doubt either are probably writing on any kind of lined paper and their ability to write in a straight line suffers over time. Both of them have pages that are stained by tears...

I can't read shorthand so obviously I'd need the proper English version to be able to read it, but I would love a version of Dracula that incorporates all those elements into "photograph of diary pages" type formatting. It would have typewriting for those portions, maybe different fonts depending on the typewriter. Unique handwriting for everyone. Maybe even a sketch in the corner where appropriate. Basically, what re: Dracula has done with the audio, but in visual format.

[jerzwriter]

A Mother's Journal - Part 3

Book:                   Wake the Dead (pre-series)

Characters:        Eli Sipes, F!OC (Florence Sipes)

Rating:                 Mature

Warnings: Violence, cursing, mentions of death

Series:                 A Mother’s Journal

Category:            Series - Angst with some fluff

Summary:           Florence is learning how to mother two young men in a world she still doesn't understand. It ends with one afternoon she and Eli share together, one where they encounter danger but also a deeper understanding.

Words:                 1593 (plus journal entries)

A/N:        Hey there. I wanted to take this through the time Eli was twenty, but it would have been entirely too long. This series is meant to give a mother's perspective but also to give the reader a glimpse of Eli's life before Wake the Dead began. To explore the latter more thoroughly, the next part of this story will be a mini-series, Coming up Blank. It will cover a pivotal point in the boy's life, then the last part of A Mother's Journal will lead to the end of the story of Eli's family. Thank you to all who are reading! :)

Series Masterlist WTD Masterlist Full Masterlist

Spring 2031

Florence took a deep breath. Spring. Rebirth. Renewal. For a moment, she allowed herself to recall springs of years long gone. The feeling was only secondary to falling in love, she once believed. And in some small ways, it still was: warmer weather, longer days, and watching the flowers bloom was magical. But today, spring also meant drones returning in droves. They could go an entire month without a sighting in the winter, but once spring arrived, that luxury ended.

She caught a glimpse of Eli relaxing on the porch as she began to prepare dinner. Seeing her eldest at peace was so lovely, so she put dinner aside and decided to join him.

“Whatcha doing there?” she asked with a bright smile as she stepped outside.

“Just whittling,” he shrugged. 

But peace never lasted long in this world, not even on a perfect spring day, and today was no exception. A hideous snarling sound seemed to surround them. Florence grabbed her pistol; but couldn’t determine where it was coming from. The stench of decaying flesh became more pronounced, so she knew it was near. She gasped in horror when she turned to find the creature’s oozing, mangled arm wrapped around her son’s torso. Eli was a soldier in this world, and it was rare to hear fear in his voice. But his whittling knife wasn’t doing a thing to stop the assault, and when he felt thick ichor dripping down his neck, he knew this could be his end.  

“MA!” His voice was a primal scream, one he instantly regretted it. Loud noise could attract more drones, leaving his mother alone to defend herself, and he wouldn’t forgive himself for that. He furiously struggled to break free when there was an explosion in his ear. Just before the monster sunk its dripping fangs into her son’s shoulder, Florence put a bullet through its head.

“Not on my fucking watch!” she spat, pulling Eli up front the ground. “Do you hear me! Not on my watch!”

She wanted to drop everything and hold her “baby” close, but Eli grabbed his bow, and the two sprung to action. Survival first, emotions later, and they had a perimeter to check to ensure this one didn’t bring any buddies along.

Once confident the area was secured, they retreated to the cabin, where Florence took a shuddering breath. But she had one more task to complete before she could even think of settling her tattered nerves.   

“Eli,” she started.

“I know. You have to check me.”

Her blood went cold at his words, making reality hit. This had been her greatest fear, finding a bite or a scratch on one of her boys.  The dreaded “rule number three.”  She doubted she’d be able to do it, and as she faced the real possibility for the first time, her heart felt like it could explode, which would be preferred over finding so much as a scratch on her son. But luckily, he had none.

Pulling him close and breaking into tears, Eli felt his body stiffen at first.  He had never seen his mother break down like this.  He had seen her sad, angry, and afraid, but this was different.  At that moment, a right of passage occurred. He realized his parents weren’t superheroes who handled all the madness with aplomb.  Instead, they were people, scared and frightened people who did the impossible.  And though he never thought it possible, he now loved them even more.  Enveloping her in his arms, they both fell to the floor, shaken. 

“Eli, that’s the closest one’s ever been to you…” she sobbed, “if I hadn’t come out to see you….”

“But you did, Mom,” he said, staring intently into her eyes. “I’m here.  I’m fine.”

Florence looked Eli over once more and smiled… they were safe.  At least at this moment, they were safe.   

“Go,” she pat his cheek gently. “Go wash all that gross crap off of you. I’ll keep watch until Dad and David are back home.”

“You sure?”

“Unless you want to sit around in zombie guts….”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I think I’ll shower.”

“Good choice,” she grinned, leaning over to pick his blood-stained clothes off the floor; they had to be put outside until they could be washed. Three small wooden stars fell out of his pocket as she picked up his pants. She took them in her hand and eyed them, vividly recalling them on the outside table just before the attack. They must have been important, she thought, if that’s the first thing he grabbed.  

Shortly after, Eli entered the kitchen, drying his hair with a large cloth. Florence placed a steaming bowl before him as he plopped into a chair.   

“I made your stew.”

Eli grinned brightly, and her seventeen-year-old son looked just like her little boy again. “You’re such a mom,” he teased.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If we’re celebrating? You make me food. If I’m sad? You make me food. Survive a zombie attack….”  

“When in doubt, you go with what you know.”

Eli hummed with delight as he put a spoonful in his mouth, and Florence noticed his eyes lingering on the wooden stars lying on the kitchen table.

“They fell out of your pocket. I knew they must be important to you if you grabbed them, even before you grabbed your weapon.”

“Yeah,” he snorted. “I won’t make that mistake again.”   

She wanted to ask more, but she knew her son, and pushing was the one way she could ensure he’d never open up.

“They’re for Nessa,” he volunteered after a few moments of silence. “Her birthday is coming, and you know how she loves stars. So I thought I’d make her a bunch. This way, she can have them, even during the day, or there aren’t any in the sky.”  

“That is so sweet, Eli. I’m sure she’ll love that.”

Once again, silence filled the air, and once again, she didn’t dare to ask more. Then, she heard a clang as Eli’s spoon dropped into his bowl.

“Mom… can I ask you something?” he asked with urgency.

“Of course, anything.”

“How did you know? With you and Dad… how did you know… it was him?”

“Well,” she sighed. “It didn’t happen all at once, but in a way, it did. It was his first day at school after his family moved to town, and I wanted him to feel welcomed.  But when we started talking, we just hit it off. Within no time, we were best friends, inseparable.”

“So, you knew that quickly?”

“Oh, no. We were very young and… well… we were just friends at first.  But we started getting older, and….”

“Ma, please, no details,” he cringed.

“Relax,” she laughed, giving his shoulder a shrug. “I’m not going to tell you about the make-out sessions your dad and I used to have.”

She laughed more heartily when he threw his head into his hands with a groan.

“OK, I’ll stop,” she assured.

“But… you knew… right? You knew you wanted to be with him… as more than friends.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I did.”

Eli’s face twisted as he swallowed, speaking again with an almost pained voice.

“How do you know if it happens?”

“Oh, Eli,” she sympathized, touching his hand. “It’s unmistakable when it happens.  You’d know it.”

He lowered his head, gently retrieving his hand.

“Should I feel that way about Nessa?” he whispered.

“There is no should when it comes to these things, you will either feel it or you won’t, son.”

“But it’s not likely that I will meet anyone else.”

“No. It’s not impossible, but you’re right, it's improbable that you will. Does… she feel that way about you.”

Eli shrugged and looked out the window; the sky was beginning to turn to dusk. 

“I don’t know. She feels like I do, I think.”

“And how is that?”

“She’s my best friend, and I love her… but I don’t love her, and I feel like I should.”

“Oh, honey,” she sighed. “If the world was the way it should be, you and Nessa would have so many people to choose from. But here….”

“It’s probably inevitable,” he said. “And it could be worse. At least we’re best friends; we care about each other….”

“There are worse ways to start,” Florence replied wistfully. 

“But when we kissed,” he blurted before his eyes went wide with horror when he realized what he had just said. Embarrassed, he jumped up from the table, but his mother took his arm.

“Eli, I’m not going to press you on that, and you don’t have to be embarrassed. Not with me. We don’t have to talk about it anymore, but I'm here if you ever want to.”

“Thanks, ma,” he sighed. 

“And don’t be so hard on yourself. You don’t have to figure this out tonight, tomorrow, or even this year. Just… just keep loving each other as friends. That’s the most important thing. If more is meant to happen, it will.”

They turned toward the window when they heard footsteps approaching. Both reached for their weapons, then Florence breathed a sigh of relief when they saw David and Jim returning.

“Oh, thank God,” she sighed. 

Eli jumped up from the table to greet them, eager to end the conversation.

“Thanks, Mom,” he half smiled before walking away. But after a few steps, he stopped in his tracks and turned around. “And Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“You were badass today.”

“Thank you,” she chuckled.  “You’re pretty badass, too.”

A/N 2: Thanks for reading. The next part of this series is Coming Up Blank will explore Eli and Nessa's relationship, and we'll also learn more about his brother David and Nessa's brother, Brady. After Coming up Blank, the story will come back to a Mother's Journal until it's end. Again, thanks for reading!

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@choicesficwriterscreations Day 4 Self-Reflection

[phoenix-positivity]

22 april 2024 - have a feeling this will be venty

I have that feeling cause I just started dissociating as I opened this. Maybe I already did before. Am I forgetting why I wanted to make this post? It's getting harder to breathe? Why? What a strange feeling. Overwhelming. Fear in my arms again. Let me move my body around and come back to this. Maybe get a sour candy. Smell a scent stick.

It helped a bit. I have a little spiky ball and I grabbed a plushie to hug. The sour candy was nice. My head started hurting though. I'm still feeling triggered. I don't really know why.

I've not been able to write much on here cause I keep dissociating too much or feel too triggered. I don't remember what the last thing I wrote was..

It makes sense though. Even though I've been very lucky with lot's of rain and cloudy weather!! The plants still grow though, perhaps even more with all the water. Sometimes the rain makes them emit more scent. Like the earth itself will smell. I still don't know what the sources are for the scents that trigger me. It's likely a cocktail of many different things.

I find it hard to actually stand still and face the triggers instead of rushing and trying to get away faster. I've tried standing still and it just keeps building up and up and it makes me want to give up before it starts decreasing, though I did it today too and I focused really hard on grounding and it felt like I had at least taken the edge of. But yeah I am surely avoiding it, I guess I don't feel strong enough to bear the pain perhaps. Or well, it's normal to want to go away from pain. At least I still take my dog for walks and walk through the areas where the scents are bad.

I also said to my therapist last week I felt the trauma I wanted to process that session wasn't bad enough to warrant processing. She replied saying that if that were the case we could start the processing and if we discovered it was no big deal for me then I would be feeling fine and we could just do something else. Obviously it was a big deal for me. I did partly process some triggers during the EMDR as well.

It also makes sense because a big triggering holiday is coming up this week. I've been sensing it's approach for some weeks now. I will do exposure during it. Actually.. it might be good to process that in my next therapy session too. Let me look something up in my trauma diary.. (not the best idea, I admit)

I ended up reading the whole diary. It makes me see how far I have come in my healing. Comparing my current situation to back then. That is hopeful.

Someday, a future me will be reading these journal entries. And they will think what I think now: "wow, I've improved so much compared to the past"

Hope.

This is but a moment in time. A painful journey to travel.

On a brighter side. I purchased VIP tickets to go see a concert and get my album signed and meet the artists. This year is a good concert year for sure. Going to concerts by myself opens up a lot of fun experiences.

I have also been working on my sleeping schedule as much as I've been able to hold myself accountable. Which is why right now I need to turn off my pc and get into bed. I've purchased a white noise machine and I've been using multiple different sound options to fall asleep. It really does make me feel safer in bed. It's a noticeable difference.

I can do this. Being triggered might make it feel like the world is standing still but this is just another day among many. The sun will set and rise again.

Dissociation doesn't last forever. It comes and goes. I will feel fully grounded again. I wont feel this way forever. I wont get 'stuck in this setting'.

Even if my dreams wont be good I will wake up and get to experience a new day and my dreams can be forgotten again.

I can recharge in bed with my plushie. It's okay to feel scared. But there is no danger in bed. The music box will be there for a comforting melody. It will be okay.

[dem0nguy]

The council (me, myself, and I) have decided, I shall post about my way-too-elaborate OC lore!

I’ll likely share this through story snippets, spurts of lore, art, or whatever else comes to me. Regardless, I hope you enjoy something I’ve been crafting for many years in the back of my mind.

Now let me introduce you to a story called:

A Good Demon

Listen, part of me still doesn’t understand everything that’s happened to me over the past couple years. But these journal entries, those that I wrote while it was happening. May be the only accurate recount I can give you.

So much has changed over the years, I’ve lost and gained. I’ve gone from a naïve little boy to a kid who knows too much for his age.

So let my younger self tell you our story:

9/22/19

It’s My Birthday! Wahooo!!!!

Man I’ve been psyched for weeks! I’m turning twelve, and tomorrow I start 6th grade! It’s kinda crazy honestly. I’m not sure if I should be excited, or terrified.

But well, that’s what this journal is for. Writing down my thoughts and worries. As much as I will use it for that, I also wanna be able to look back when I’m older! It’ll be cool to see what future me thinks of present me (I hope future me is doing well!) He’s not, but the notion is nice.

I got a whole bunch of presents today! First off, I got this journal. Which seemed like a lame present at first (especially in comparison to my twin brother’s remote controlled car) but I’m learning to like it. I think… The journal is a marble red-black pattern, with a gold engraving on the front of my name “Adam”.

I also got a bunch of chocolate (my favorite candy!), as well as action figures from my favorite TV show, a few new books, a couple letters with money, and an odd red and blue crystal necklace. Irrelevant as it may be, chocolate is still my favorite candy.

The necklace was a gift from my Uncle Sam. He’s a very, err, interesting guy? I don’t know, he’s very closed off, and doesn’t seem very fond of anything really. But my dad (his twin brother. Isn’t it crazy there are two pairs of twins in this family??) Likes having him around.

My twin, Conner, got a similar necklace. Though it was a little more blue than red. Uncle Sam was very hesitant when giving them to us, almost as though he didn’t want to. It made me wonder if my dad had made him buy these for us.

I’m not ungrateful for his gift. Just, skeptical. He told us to keep the necklaces close by all day and night, that they’re a sign of good luck. Should’ve been more skeptical…

I’m not exactly gonna give up potential good luck. I’ll definitely need it for tomorrow. I’m absolutely terrified that I’m gonna get lost in the big concrete building that is “middle school.” I’ll have more than one teacher a year now, how will I remember them all?? What if I forget and walk into the wrong classroom? God that would be so embarrassing. All the looks from the other students trained on me, I can almost hear their snickering and laughing in my ears!

Even worse, what if I’m stuck in a class with no one I know? What if all my friends and my brother are on completely different sides of the building? What if there’s an emergency?? What would I do? Funny how this was my greatest fear when I was twelve.

I don’t think I can answer any of those questions, just thinking about them shakes me to the core. But, it is nice to write down on paper. Somehow the words are less scary when you can see them.

Hey, maybe this good luck charm will help me after all.

Little did I know it would make my life living hell.

(Part twoooooo :D)