#lol whatever stop thinking about our games we made you care about on any deeper level than how a 1 year old looks at pictures

[ganondoodle]

this is what im referring to btw

this is the worst excuse you could have come up with

"the civilization in botw and totk is totally different" also gets me bc .... what the fuck do you mean i thoguht those were the same people, i mean, they dont FEEL like the same people so i guess they're right in way???

nigh every old character acts out of character and all any NPC cares about is being an annoying sonau fangirl but no no its totally a sequel, why the fuck do you keep insisting on the games being a direct sequel, just say they are a majoars mask deal where its the same but also isnt at all instead of trying to gaslight me into the believing its an actuel sequel

me: finally im able to cope with how much i hate totk and can fuel that energy into other things :)

nintendy: the shiekah tech just dissappeared and no one knows why or cares enough to investigate it lol. lmao. its gone bc the calamity is gone or something even tho it literally isnt bc ganondorf is right there haha lol, stop asking, why do you care. just forget it existed and look at that sexy goatman and glue instead!! glue! isnt that wild?? also its totally a direct, 100% same universe and exact same characters, despite them act totally out of character, sequel to botw-

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing iii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 2, 393

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

“You’re bailing again?” Taehyung looks up from his stack of books for the first time in the last hour since the two of you have started your study date. Granted, he meant no spite but he didn’t understand what set you to flee. The name that was almost taboo to you; the name that brings more tugs to your heart that hurts than one that’s fond.

You glance up at him with meek eyes, “I have an office hour with my economics professor in half an hour.”

Taehyung purses his lips.

“This is the fourth time this week you’ve ditched.” Taehyung sounds mildly irritated and you don’t blame him. You made a promise months ago before mid-terms coming up that you’d help him with statistics. But before the two of you could ever get into the nitty-gritty details of math; somehow the forbidden name comes up.

“I know.” You say softly. “I’m sorry …” You don’t say anything else because your heart is speeding up in a way that is anxiety-inducing. Because Taehyung off-handedly mentioned that Jungkook would be dropping by in a few; and you didn’t know when he’d turn up and you rather not stick around to find out.

His words still linger in your mind and every time there was any prompt to remind you of his face, or his name—you remember the way his words sounded so assured in the context of the situation first. You remember the malevolence that lied behind his usually kind eyes. But it’s like the eyes filled with desire in a one-dimensional view of your body replaced the youthful mirth you grew up with.

“Look.” Taehyung sighs, pushing himself up to look at you with a stern stare. “If you don’t want to tutor me that’s fine. I can find another tutor. But I’d appreciate if you’d let me know beforehand so I don’t have to come all the way just for an hour then have you leave once the content begins to get tougher.”

Taehyung was by no means being rude or outwardly offensive. He was straightforward and you appreciated that he was honest with you. And rather, you feel guilty of the fact that you bailed for your own selfish reasons.

“I do want to tutor you.” You tell him, fiddling with your fingers as your eyes dart to the doors of the library. “It really just slipped my mind.”

It sounds lame, even to you; and Taehyung picks up on it too.

“You don’t forget things like this.” He says pointedly. “It’s like every time I mention—”

Taehyung stops himself and your eyes dart away, hands already tugging your bag over your shoulder. Maybe if you sped up, he wouldn’t stare at you with an inquisitive stare that looked similar to one of realisation.

“Did something happen between you and Kook?”

You wince. Taehyung is observant.

“Are the two of you—?”

“I’m fine.” You snap, tone defensive and on edge when you hear the bell of the library door ring. You don’t dare to turn to look. “We’re fine.”

“_____ …” Taehyung frowns.

“I gotta go. Okay?” You huff, offering one last apologetic look before you turn to leave. But in your haste, you bump into a solid figure and you’re terrified that it’s—

“Careful.” A deeper, unfamiliar but welcomed voice murmurs.

When your eyes look up, it’s just someone you recognise from Jungkook’s football games. You were sure he was a key player too. His stature was definitely one of an athlete. He was tall, broad, and firm; and the black shirt that hugged his chest only emphasised your guess.

“S-Sorry.” You squeak, looking down.

You brush past him before he can get another word in, and only when you slip past him do you see Jungkook lingering behind with a frown on his face.

“______—” He calls.

You’re able to leave before he can get a hold of you; and that only causes the frown on Jungkook’s face to harden.

When the door rings once more to signal your departure, Jungkook is already sat with Taehyung and the other person that bumped into you.

“What’s up with the two of you?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook stiffens and responds with a grit of his teeth. “Nothing.”

Taehyung doesn’t look convinced and Namjoon—though recently enlightened with the fact that there was potentially something brewing between the two of you—was also observant enough to pick up on the tense atmosphere that you left with.

“Aren’t the two of you super close?” Namjoon says offhandedly, already shifting through his assignments while he lays them out.

Jungkook wants to let out a dry scoff at the assumption. Sure, the two of you were close. He isn’t so sure about that anymore.

“You’re clearly lying to me.” Taehyung snorts. “So whatever it is the two of you are keeping a secret please just sort it out because I need _____ here to tutor me and you’re getting in the way of my education.”

Taehyung mostly says this as a joke, but it strikes Jungkook straight where it’s vulnerable. He wasn’t going to be the first to break, nor will he indulge Taehyung into what he said to you in the same library they were in at this very moment.

So instead, Jungkook brushes it off like he’s been doing so more recently than ever.

“Whatever.” He mutters.

For some reason, you see Jungkook again on the same day—accompanied by the same person that you bumped into.

You realise that you’ve spent more time avoiding him than dealing with your feelings after what transpired. But you’re weak and you suppose you’ve always been weak when it came to Jungkook.

It was difficult … to say the least. Because while Jungkook’s words were malicious and filled with the intent to hurt and break you; the better (and foolish) part of you wanted to believe that he was angry. Driven by emotions that he wasn’t thinking straight. But while you were naive, you were also substantially aware that there had to be some form of truth to the words he’s thrown at you.

But this was the same Jungkook that you grew up with, the young boy you’ve somehow seen transition from awkward and endearing teen to … to the confident and assured man he was. You didn’t want to make any excuses for him but you’ve always been soft. And you hated that your eyes somehow still linger on his approaching figure when the rational side of your brain tells you to run away.

However, it’s not him who greets you. It’s his friend. The one you vaguely recognise but can’t quite put a name to a face.

“Hey!” He calls out to you.

His smile is easy with a dimple appearing on his cheeks. He looks kind and soft for someone that was easily a head taller than you were, and despite his height—there was something oddly comforting about the way he approaches you as if he knows you.

You try to ignore the coldness from Jungkook’s end and remind yourself that you should’ve felt angry—not the other way around.

“Hi?” You say, or more appropriately ask.

Jungkook’s expression is still blank; every time your eyes briefly linger on his face you wonder how it’d ended up this way.

“_____, right? I’ve seen you at a few of our games.” His friend enters a conversation so seamlessly. “Kook’s never introduced us, though.”

You clear your throat and you hope your face isn’t a dead giveaway of your discomfort. Especially when you blatantly ignore Jungkook’s piercing stare on the side of your temple.

“I don’t … mingle around that much.” You say softly,

And it’s parallel to the image that Jungkook has of you. The quiet, timid girl that’s free time is consumed with books and assignments than a social life to make up for it. You used to think that maybe you weren’t the type that enjoyed large or loud gatherings. But Jungkook’s voice only makes you wonder if you were the problem instead.

“Well, I’m Namjoon.” He smiles at you, offering a grin filled with teeth that you find yourself unconsciously returning, albeit awkwardly.

“Nice to meet you … uh … Namjoon.” You mumble, and your eyes nearly land on Jungkook’s face out of pure habit, but you stop yourself before you hurt yourself even more.

“It’s nice to formally meet you too. I’ve been asking Jungkook to introduce the two of us since forever ago but he seemed dead set on keeping you to himself.” Namjoon jokes lightly. And you almost miss it, but you swear Jungkook stiffens by his side.

“Ah …” You reply lamely, fingering your strap as you shift on your heels.

It feels awkward to not acknowledge Jungkook; you’re wondering if Namjoon picks up on the cold air between the both of you. Namjoon looks like he’s thinking of something, but before he can say anything—Jungkook is tugging his arm roughly.

“We have practice.” Jungkook grits, finally making himself known.

Your eyes dart to your feet, and you hate how small you feel in his presence. It should’ve been easy but this was the hardest part of it all. Pretending like you were objectively okay when his words constantly lingered at the back of your mind.

“Go ahead without me. I want to ask _____ something.” Namjoon shrugs Jungkook’s hand off of him. And this time you catch the venomous glare that he shoots his friend, accompanied by the clench of his jaw.

“Coach will—”

“I’m the captain, remember?” Namjoon snorts, but it’s not condescending. Just a reminder.

Jungkook purses his lips and his eyes dart between the two of you; and you know him well enough to know that there’s something on his mind, especially with the way he nibbles on his bottom lip.

“Don’t be late.” Jungkook grits, stomping off in the other direction without even sparing you a glance.

You frown at him because he was the one that came to you that day unwarranted; treating you like absolutely nothing as if there weren’t years of history behind the two of you.

But Namjoon is large enough to distract you because he quite literally blocks the view of Jungkook’s disappearing body with his own when he stands right in front of you.

“Sorry about that.” Namjoon looks sheepish. “I hope you don’t mind …” He trails off as he scratches the back of his neck.

Your eyes widen as you shake your head, “N-No! It’s fine. Just … uh … what’s up?” You wince inwardly at your horrible social skills and you have a slight understanding of why Jungkook pointed out the things he did. Maybe he was right—

“I—well …” Namjoon mumbles, and he seems less assured than he was earlier. “I think—you’re really—cool?—and smart—you seem nice so … sorry! God.” He rambles as he brushes his hands over his face.

You blink at him.

Namjoon takes your reaction as a bad one as he winces, chuckling lowly.

“I’m sorry. I’m not this … awkward.” He tells you.

You nod your head slowly trying to process his words. And you feel a little guilty knowing that your lack of response probably pushes Namjoon further into his shell. But he has a glare in his eye that shows that he won’t be affected so easily.

“Well.” He clears his throat. “I follow your podcast. And I think it’s really great. You offer some really interesting perspectives on the War on Drugs—or as you mentioned—the disproportionate effects of racial tension that lead to unjustified or mass incarceration rates in the U.S.”

Somehow you know you’ve said the exact same words in the monthly podcast you do with the International Relations department for extra credit. But when Namjoon speaks, it’s as if he’s carefully picking apart the context and nuance of your words so carefully before he quotes it back to you; as if he treats your opinion with heavy regard and not one of the light matters.

You feel flattered.

“Oh.” You blink. “Thank you?”

Namjoon offers you an easy grin. And you recall: captain of the football team, he says? He doesn’t really … fit the stereotype. Besides the fact that he looked insanely fit. He was gentle, that much you could tell. But you also were a little biased when it came to footballers because you only had Jungkook to compare him with.

“Sorry for just springing that on you.” He apologises sheepishly and you’re even more confused as to why he feels the need to say sorry. “It’s just that Kook was always so bitchy about introducing me to you whenever I asked so … I thought why not take the chance myself?”

You gape at him. You don’t know what to do with the set of new information you’re presented with. Firstly, the fact that someone like Namjoon paid attention to a nobody like you? And secondly, the weird revelation that Jungkook somehow gate kept his friendship … or whatever the fuck it was … with you.

“No, no.” You shake your head, “I’m really flattered. Thank you. No one’s ever … told me that before.” You give him a gentle smile because that’s all you can muster.

Namjoon returns it tenfold as he hikes his bag across his shoulder.

“Well, I gotta go now. Practice calls.” He jokes, waving at you. For a moment, he stills; as if remembering something before he fishes out a piece of paper from his pocket and shoves it to you in a haste.

“What is—?”

“My number. You know—if you ever want to talk. About … stuff. I think you’re super smart—and intelligent. They’re synonymous but yeah. If you want.” He rambles.

You blink up at him and before you can muster a response, he’s darting away.

You watch his figure retreat and notice that Jungkook is waiting for him a good distance away. But his eyes aren’t on Namjoon’s somewhat giddy figure—but on you.

He stares at you long and hard, and you feel conflicted. The paper in your hand nearly chafes, but the feeling is easily forgotten when his expression hardens.

When Namjoon reaches him with a clasp to his back, the pair walks off. Not before he gives you one passing glance over his shoulder that leaves you feeling more restless than ever.

[hoshi-u-love-me]

TTT (Part. 2)

Group : Seventeen

Pairing : Seventeen × Reader

Genre : Drabble

Word count : 1.5k

Warning : randomness, fr I had no clue what I was thinking when I wrote this lol

a/n : I wanted to continue my other story (petals pt.3) but like I was in a fluffy-ish mood and like petals is just too depressing lmao (not so depressing but like the ideas I have for it were straight out a whole ass gallon of depresso)

(Pt. 1)

The car ride soon ended and you all filed out of the mini bus to welcome the sight of the villa you all will be occupying for the next 3 days.

Each went to inspect whatever it is that caught their attention first. You and Chan held hands, immediately running to the indoor pool and squealing with excitement. Mingyu walked past you both to unload the groceries you all had bought on the way over, Seokmin and Seungkwan following behind him.

"Ooh, Mingyu," You called, stopping him mid-way to look at you, "you packed my swimsuit, right?"

When the question seem to get processed in his mind, you could've sworn that you saw him blush a bit but nod quickly, almost enthusiastically. "I think it's at the bottom of your bag, I know this place has a pool and since both of you are little tadpoles, I put two and two together and assume you'd want to go for a swim while we're here"

Chan took off his right slipper and kicked the water at Mingyu's direction, not liking being called a tadpole. On the other hand, you just giggled at the scene that's happening in front of you.

Soon both you and Chan decided to investigate the premises further, hands still connected and swinging. You both decided to look at the rooms on the second floor. There were a total of four rooms, three were big enough to fit four people and the last one big enough to fit five people.

Next, you both stopped at the kitchen where Mingyu, Seokmin, and Seungkwan were putting away the groceries. You both inspected the things that you guys bought, giggling at each other and planning on how you guys plan on finishing your portion of the snack throughout the trip.

Slipping past everyone in the kitchen with Chan, you both stopped at the gaming room where there are a couple of arcade games at the corner, a pool table in the middle, and a mini fridge. Jeonghan and Seungcheol were already at the pool while Jun and Minghao was inspecting the arcade games.

You both lingered for a bit, checking in on everyone there before going to the staircase that leads downstairs.

There, you found a whole movie room. A big white screen on one side of the wall, a projector on the ceiling and a computer at the back. There were no chairs there, just a bunch of pillows and a rug.

Both you and Chan slinked to Joshua, Soonyoung, and Vernon who were hunched over the computer. "What'cha doin'?" you called, "Looking for good movies to- Ooh! Frozen!" Soonyoung exclaimed, pointing at the screen where the movie poster appeared. Joshua sighed at him, "If we decided that we're not gonna watch Moana, what makes you think we're gonna watch Frozen?" "uhm, great songs? Awesome graphics? Thrilling story line?" Soonyoung argued.

The two began bickering on why the heck they won't watch Frozen during the trip.

Vernon poked your arm, "you guys wanna get out before Soonyoung hyung start suggesting The Little Mermaid?"

At Vernon's words, Soonyoung clapped his hands, "The Little Mermaid! Thank you, Vernon!" and then a whole new argument started between the two.

With one hand in Chan's, you slip your other in Vernon's and slinked away quietly so neither Joshua nor Soonyoung would realize anything.

The three of you agreed to take a peek at the balcony at the second floor. But when you three were just about to step on the stairs, Seungcheol had called out as he stepped out of the game room.

"Kids, gather here! We're going to decide on our sleeping arrangements!" Seungcheol called. Everyone immediately gathered, putting their bags down and sitting on the floor or on the couch, whichever was available.

"Okay, first thing's first," Seungcheol looked at you and offered a smile, "(Y/N) will be staying with me tonight in whichever room I stay in" he winked.

Unsurprisingly, Jeonghan, Jun, Soonyoung, Mingyu, Seokmin, and Seungkwan boo-ed at him, "That's unfair! You can't get dibs like that!" Soonyoung exclaimed. Seungcheol snapped his head at the younger guy and glared at him, "Like hell I can't, I'm the oldest hence I get the privilege of taking care of our baby and make sure she's safe!" "We've established that (Y/N)'s MY baby so she'll be staying with me" Jeonghan said, scooting closer before wrapping an arm around your shoulder, "Tell him, (Y/N), tell him that you feel much safer with me"

You scrunch your nose at him and offered an awkward smile, "actually... I'd feel much safer with Chan and/or Nonie, I don't trust the rest of you... especially you" Jeonghan faked a dramatic gasp at you and drop to the side against Seokmin,"Rejected, by my own true love, how sad" he moaned in fake agony which made you giggle.

Seungcheol sighed, "come on guys, seriously, we have to pick our rooms" and with that everyone started dividing themselves. In the end there were Joshua, Jun and Chan, then Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Mingyu and Minghao, Seungkwan, Seungcheol, and Vernon teamed up next and lastly Soonyoung, Seokmin and Jihoon (in which Jihoon reluctantly agree because he doesn't want to sleep on the couch alone).

It dawned on you that you're gonna have to make a decision on which room you'd have to choose.

"N-no wait, why can't I just room with Seungkwan, Nonie, and Chan? Y'know, me and the maknaes stick together" you pouted, batting your lashes a little at them in hopes they would falter and agree with you.

In all honesty, your plan was iron clad, because Seokmin, Wonwoo, Mingyu, Minghao, Seungkwan, Chan, Seungcheol, and heck even Jihoon had a look of defeat in their faces.

But sadly Jeonghan shook his head and spoke up first, "nope, it's 13 vs 1, we all picked our roomates so you're gonna have to choose from the available options and not ruin the preexisting team"

Determined to have it your way, you turn to Jeonghan, pout going a teeny tiny bit deeper, you fiddled your fingers in faux innocence, "you think I'm gonna ruin things for you guys?"

For a split second, a VERY quick split second, you could see Jeonghan blushed slightly at your face. You know if you can win him over, you'd be able to have things your way.

Jun smacked your face with a cushion lightly, disturbing the impromptu staring contest you had with Jeonghan, "Nope, sorry princess, that's not gonna work anymore"

You grab the cushion and began hitting Jun with it while glaring at him, "I swear to God Jun, I hate you"

Eventually you give up, you agreed to pick from the options they created. And this is when all hell break lose.

Everyone kept pitching offers to you so that you'd room with them. The pitches varies from giving you snacks, the bed, and even their hoodies.

"Seokmin, stop pitching going on a camping trip, if it doesn't work on any of us, what makes you think it's gonna work on her?" Seungcheol sighed. Seokmin pouted at him, "It's worth a try!"

"(Y/N), if you choose to room with me," Joshua started, earning a cough from Chan and a hard nudge from Jun, "yeah, us, whatever, but if you choose to stay in the same room as me, I'll give you NCT's Mark's number, I go to the same church as him" he said.

That piqued your interest.

Your eyebrows rose at him, eyes widening.

"Really!? For real!? NCT's Mark ???"

"No, not really, but I got your interest and attention, so did it work?"

Instead of answering him, you hurled the cushion you've been holding at his face.

"This is stupid! Why won't any of you just claim me?" You whined.

Realizing what you just said and how it could be implied, you snap your head towards Jun who was already opening his mouth, "and I don't mean that in a sexual way" you cut him off before he could say anything. He laughed a little, raising both of his arms in mock surrender.

Seungkwan spoke up, "no one wants to claim you because no one wants you and your loud snores in their room" he snorted, obviously joking.

You were about to retort something snarky back at him before Vernon suddenly stood up and grab your bag without saying anything to you. But then he turn towards Seungkwan, "Seungcheol hyung and I spoke, we're swapping you with (Y/N)" he smirked before taking off to the stairs, "come on, (Y/N)! I'm letting you pick our room"

Now feeling better due to the fact that you don't have to choose between the boys, you stuck your tongue out at Seungkwan before dashing off to grab Vernon's arm and pick a room.

Seungcheol was quick to react, he immediately grab his own bag and followed after you and Vernon, "guys! Wait!" he squeaked.

The others sighed in defeat, all regretting not doing what Vernon did or not having the courage to just do it. They all grumbled for a bit, poking at each of their roommates for not speaking up quickly or even do anything. But they all eventually give up and proceed to leave the living room to put their things in their rooms.

All the while leaving a confused Seungkwan in the living room.

"W-wait, what does this mean for me? Am I sleeping alone here? Guys? Damn it."

[propshophannah]

Do you think Elriel has a chance? And do you think Azriel will get over Mor and fall in love with Elain or will his love for Mor be the big elephant in the room that stops that relationship, besides the whole mate bond thing with Lucien?

HI NONNIE! I think ANYTHING is possible. There was a time when Elriel was a few pieces of drift wood @sparkleywonderful and I tied together with our leg hair. But then book 3 and the novella came out and there is certainly a much sturdier foundation upon which that ship can be built. But honestly, I won’t care either way who elain ends up with romantically. I love Elriel because it hits so many of my nerd buttons, but I also love elucien. So I’m game for whatever! If all we get is Elriel brOTP I’ll be fine with that. And if that’s what we get for Elucien, I’ll be fine with that as well. I’m here for the angst, the soul searching, the gut wrenching indecision—and of course the cuddles and fluff and all those small moments when a couple stare at each other for a moment too long, or sit too close on the couch, or realize that of all the people that can help them out of a situation they only want THAT ONE PERSON to come help. Like UGH. Stick me with a fork, I’m done. 💀💔🗑

Will Az stop pining for Mor? God, I hope so. LOL. It would be weird and kind of creepy if he didn’t. I could see his pining for Mor being something he needs to face. And i say pining I’m not sure I would call it romantic love? I’d need more insight into how he thinks of her and sees her in relation to himself in order to decide if I think he truly loves her romantically or if he’s built up the idea of loving her romantically. (Idk if that makes sense?) I don’t want any Az and Mor drama tho. I just want Az to wake up one day and realize that whatever he thought he felt for Mor is gone and that what he feels for this other person is so much stronger and deeper and life changing that he could never have felt the same way for Mor. I wouldn’t care if they briefly talked about it but I’m not here for anyone to have to explain their feelings (Mor) to anyone else. Just cuz.... idk. There is an argument to be made that Az’s pining crosses a line. So, I’m just.... I almost don’t want them to talk about it, or I want it to be done in such a way that it’s not cringe and Mor’s not left explaining to a man why she does not or could not reciprocate. Like if he realized he loved someone else in such a way that he realized whatever he felt for Mor was nothing but a crush (and a crutch), at the same time Mor starts openly dating a lady—and all he says is like “oh, now I get it.” I’d be fine with that. (I’m also not thinking too deeply about this as I’m writing in my phone in the couch and this is probably riddled with errors and too many random thoughts, so I could change my mind or realize I’m being a total asshole.)

So yeah. That’s where I’m at nonnie!

[eunsoyi]

dear moon

kpop songfic series #1: bokuto koutarou

warning: this is a bit long lol & angsty

dear moon, my moon

i can’t get any closer

like the moon i can’t reach

even with fast-paced walking

"i’m sorry." he muttered and lowered his head. i smiled sadly and brushed his hand with my fingers. my chest was burning in pain, as if it was going to explode any time soon. but i didn’t cry. i didn’t have the strength to do so. i kissed his knuckle and replied, "it’s okay, koutarou."

the next day, i did not show up at the stadium, much to my parents’ surprise. "aren’t you going to support your best friend?" they asked. i shook my head and covered my body with my blanket, pretending to be asleep. every bit of person in my school is probably there right now, cheering for fukurodani. no, they’re cheering for bokuto kotarou, the volleyball club’s ace, a volleyball superstar, my best friend.

my best friend who just rejected me.

i gathered the strength to stand up and open the television and at least watch the game from the comfort of my own living room. i stared at it for a few minutes until i heard the words "fukurodani’s ace does it again! an amazing straight shot!" as the camera pans to his jumping backside.

"he’s going to be a big hit soon, don’t you think, y/n?" my mother asked. i just nodded in response as i felt tears form in my eyes.

oh moon, like moon

why won’t you go away?

i try to turn away and run

but you’re like the moon that follows me

i sighed as i texted ‘i’m doing fine’ to my parents for the nth time this week. my college roommate kept laughing at me for having overprotective parents, and i just responded with a deadpan chuckle. two years into university and i already want to quit if not for the hefty amount of money that my family is paying for my tertiary education.

"bokuto beam!"

i stopped myself from looking at my roommate’s laptop. i’ve been hearing his name ever since we graduated high school, and it’s like a noise that frustratingly kept ringing in my ear to the point where i want to cut it off. my roommate was a big msby fan, and from what i’ve heard, kotarou had been scouted and became a professional player for that team.

not that i care.

every after a stressful and tiring day, she’d pop in one of msby’s games and squeal like a hungry pig. "you can use earphones, you know?" i said with a hint of annoyance in my voice that i failed to suppress.

"jeez, okay." she glared at me and finally, the room was at peace. but i couldn’t shake off hearing his name from the muffled speakers of her earphones, so i decided to take a breather.

the august night was cold, as expected, since fall is approaching rather rapidly for my liking. i sat down on one of the benches at the park in front of my dorm building and gazed at the stars.

i hated the stars.

despite being so numerous, they look so terribly lonely. the distance humans see between them was a ruse, as they were literally light years apart, a distance none of us can really fathom.

"y/n?"

you,

is it coincidence?

i jumped up immediately and locked eyes with a familiar white-haired boy, wearing a big jacket and a sports bag clung on his body.

"koutarou.." i managed to squeak out.

the moment we met eyes,

"it really is you." he smiled and gave me a hug. the hug was very brief for me to react, but i can still feel his arms linger on my back. i felt even more pathetic than i did when i confessed to him that night.

"yeah. i heard you’re doing well." i smiled, sat back down, and ushered him to sit beside me to which he happily obliged.

i heard a low voice

talking to me

"i am." he whispered. his eyes reflected the night sky, and they were the most beautiful things i’ve ever seen. as i looked deeper, i realized they were hollow, dark, very different from what his fans have been seeing. it was almost empty. lonely, even.

my hatred for the stars grew.

oh moon, my moon

i’m not trying to hold you

i know you’re too big for me to hold

i rarely saw koutarou after that. we finally had each other’s contact details after two years of not seeing each other, and he has been constantly texting me, but i haven’t given him a decent reply.

"what’s keeping you from doing so?" akaashi keiji, one of my high school friends and kotarou’s right-hand man, asked as we were eating out for ramen one night.

"i don’t know." i mumbled and twirled my noodles, msby versus another team i don’t know booming on the restaurant television.

"you’re still hung up about that night? i thought you’ve moved on." keiji raised his eyebrow.

"i have."

"then just properly talk to him."

"i can’t."

"why not?"

i sighed and crossed my arms, looking at the television which showed koutarou’s joyful cheer as he scored a point against his opponent.

"i’m not good enough."

the next week, i found koutarou sitting on the same bench i sat the day we met again. when he spotted me, he gave me the biggest, brightest, almost blinding smile i’ve ever seen.

"why are you here? aren’t you busy?" i asked while sitting down beside him. he chuckled. "i’m a volleyball player. the only thing i do is train and play."

i giggled. "fair point."

we talked for a good hour with canned coffee in one hand and a hot pack on the other. i did not pay attention to the cold, october air. the only thing i could see was the man beside me, radiating the brightest energy i ever felt, and the view of the empty park.

if only time would stop, and we’d stayed like that forever.

oh moon, my moon

i’m not trying to have you.

everything went by so smoothly, i did not have time to think things through. it became unspoken tradition between the two of us to meet in that park every weekend and he’d treat me to canned coffee, much to my dismay.

“don’t you get paid for being a professional athlete? why is it always canned coffee?” i jokingly said. he frowned. “isn’t spending time with me enough?”

yes. it was more than enough. i wanted to yell that out to him, but i couldn’t. i rolled my eyes in response and pretended to be annoyed at the canned coffee.

“y/n..” he said in such a serious voice. i hummed in reply, gulping down the drink in my hand. “do you still like me?”

i stopped myself from spitting out the stupidly sweet liquid in my mouth. i coughed, choking on my drink. “what?”

“i like you, y/n. a lot. i realized this when i saw you again.”

i did not respond and stared at the ground. my mind was blank. what should i say? what was i supposed to say? i haven’t thought about this, at all.

“can we date?” he broke the silence.

in hindsight, i shouldn’t have said yes.

the fact that you’re so dazzling

is because i’m too dark of a night

agreeing to date bokuto koutarou was a mistake.

we decided that i’d move in to his apartment, to which i happily did. the first few months were okay. we did the things couples usually did: kiss, hold hands, go on dates, whatever there is to name. however, despite being his girlfriend, i did not attend any of his games even if he forced me to. i told him that i’m not a fan of crowds, and i assured him that i am supporting him from our apartment, and he just let me be.

on our first year of dating, i decided to go to one of his games as a surprise.

i was sitting on the bleachers, blending in with the tremendous amount of fangirls and volleyball fanatics in the crowd. after the game, i whipped out a box of homemade chocolates and the bouquet of flowers that i bought and tried to approach him, but before he even noticed my presence, he was surrounded with different types of people: journalists, agents, managers, teammates, fangirls, fanboys, children and elderly alike are asking for his autograph and his picture.

i left without saying a word.

after that day, i got intensely busier. i prepared for my thesis, i was stressing myself with different laboratory subjects, and i got hired as an intern in a research lab. koutarou, on the other hand, kept getting commercial deals and busied himself with tournaments and games. we barely had time to see each other, and when we did, we’d sit in silence, a silence so deafening it almost made me go crazy. whenever i’d see him, his eyes would be hollow, the same eyes that were presented to me when i first saw him again.

i attempted to work things out, if there were actually things that needed working out. but we both couldn’t find the right time to do so. it was either he or i who’d go home immensely exhausted and go straight to sleep.

the relationship was going nowhere.

is it coincidence?

on your white face,

“koutarou, can we talk?” i finally said once he got home.

“i’m very tired, y/n. can we do this tomorrow?”

this conversation again. i was honestly so sick of those words. i kept my calm and tugged the sleeve of his shirt.

“please?”

he sighed, dropped his sports bag, and looked at me in the eye. “what?”

“this relationship.. it’s..” i stammered, trying to find the right words to say.

“it’s getting pretty exhausting, huh?” he smirked and leaned on the doorframe.

there’s a shadow stain

that doesn’t suit you

“wait.. what?”

“i’m tired, y/n. goodnight.” koutarou whispered, kissing my forehead and headed towards the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

i’m waving

it’s how i call you

there’s a loner here

who resembles you a lot

a week later, kotarou and i broke up.

i asked why. i knew the answer, i just had to hear it from him.

“i was lonely.”

i smiled sadly. “i was, too.”

he gave me a week to clear out my things in his apartment, and to be frank, that was the most stagnant yet most painful week of my life.

i was wrong about him in so many ways.

in the years i’ve known him, i’ve looked at him like a star, more specifically, like the sun. he was so warm and bright that it made me frustrated. i thought i was nothing like him. i thought we lived in two very different worlds: him living in a place of happiness and stardom while i lived somewhere damp and boring.

but the times he showed me the real him, the bokuto koutarou behind closed doors, those empty eyes..

we were two peas in a pod.

instead of making each other happy, we were each other’s catalyst to our own descent.

i gave him one last kiss on the cheek and bid him farewell. i moved back to my dorm, much to my roommate’s surprise. “hey, y/n, did ya miss me?” she cheekily remarked.

“you wish.”

i wished that were the reason.

i met up with keiji very soon in our usual ramen shop, and i didn’t even need to tell him what happened. he found out through kotarou. apparently, he was actually planning to break up with me months before but couldn’t find the courage to do so.

“you know, it’s a waste.” keiji said, slurping his noodles.

“what is?” i asked, tilting my head in confusion.

“i honestly thought the two of you were perfect for each other.”

i sighed. “that was actually the opposite of what i was thinking.”

keiji looked at me with those pitying eyes that i hated so much. “are you okay?”

i’m not doing so well

“i’ll be fine.”

my only moon

as much as i can’t reach you

till the night grows deep

keep that silence with the white light

i stared at my thesis once more, which was binded and published. i felt tears welling up my eyes. my roommate hugged me, yelling and crying that she’s proud of me and whatnot. my parents who were on video call were sobbing as well. my phone notifications were blowing up with different message of congratulations.

i finally graduated. my thesis finally got published. i am finally an employee in the research lab i worked as an intern in. my family called me lucky for being so successful early on. i disagreed and just laughed it off.

that night, my roommate celebrated by buying beer for me as a treat. we stayed up all night, laughing and drinking. she got too drunk and finally fell asleep. i immediately went to get some blankets and pillows to tuck her in the couch.

“congratulations msby black jackals for winning the spring tournament!”

i stopped in my tracks. i didn’t realize she was playing another volleyball game in the time we were talking. i found myself staring at kotarou’s cheering figure. i closed my eyes, trying to suppress my tears.

i took the remote and turned the television off.

so i won’t sleep again tonight.

this was the first time i ever cried while writing. dear moon is my favorite song that was written by iu (i suggest listening to her version of the song bc it’s so good as well). hope you all liked this despite the angst!

[tcheschirewrites]

Hhhhhh and because I am In A Good Place right now, let’s have a little bonus short. You want to know what Justin and Jen have been up to, those two wiliest of snakes, while RC and Dick have been in Japane? Well, let’s find out!

(Considering the length - I accidentally 1.7k - and technically it’s plot-advancing, I guess we can consider this chapter 20.5? lol)

The dim lighting of so many of the gastropubs in the city gave him a headache. Like, sure. He understood the ambiance, along with the pulsing music at just a few decibels shy of a migraine, and yes, all right, he had spent his fair share of time in joints with far lower lighting and beats with far deeper bass, but in his regular day to day, the need to hobknob frustrated him.

Justin adjusted his tie, tugging it further away from his Adam’s apple.

From her seat across the table, texting Richard or checking her emails or scrolling Instagram or whatever it was she was doing when she was pretending she wasn’t paying attention, Jennifer scowled at him. She reached over to him, fussing lightly with his lapels, the creases of his shirt against his slouched posture.

“Stop doing that,” she chided, sliding the knot of the tie back to its position against his throat. “Can you seriously not keep still for two hours? You’re incredible.”

“This is what happens when I don’t have you to take care of me Jen,” he groused, discreetly loosening his tie just slightly when she looked away for half a moment.

“Can it,” she replied, sipping neatly from her water. “I think I see him coming.”

Out of reflex, Justin tightened his tie, running a hand over his hair. “You’re sure we’ve got everything we need this time?”

Jen glanced back at him over her shoulder, her eyes aglow in the low lighting of the restaurant, reminding him so very much of the Jennifer he had met during university, and his chest ached. “Oh yeah,” she said, and her tone was so self-assured he allowed himself a glimmer of a real smile.

His father strode up to the table, seating himself without waiting for a greeting. “I’ve spoken with Mr. Kaiba. His terms are outstanding. I hope you’ve decided as one that this acquisition is well within business interests?”

Justin was practiced at swallowing the dark bile of his father’s reptilian cruelty – Jen less so, though her tenure as a legal counselor had left her well equipped to don the proper mask for the situation. “You know, pops, we have. We’ve spoken with Dick Grant and our Chief Marketing Officer, and we all agreed that a total sale at these terms was an offer we couldn’t refuse.”

“Justin, you know I don’t abide movie references.”

Raising his hands in a gesture of surrender, mostly to field Jennifer leaping across the table to strangle his father, Justin allowed himself a chuckle. “I know, old man, but I think you’ll find it’s appropriate, considering the situation. We nailed that Japanese bastard hook, line, and sinker.”

“That’s wonderful news. I’ve read the proposal, and the extra numbers packet you provided me earlier. Third Star stands to make quite a bit of money from the sale of the market shares.”

“Fuck yeah, they do.” Justin’s lips curled into a grin at the furrow in his father’s brow. He knew exactly what was going through the scaly fucker’s mind – Justin had never been so crass in his presence before, never stooped so low as to be anything but formal in front of James. “As my C Suite are majority shareholders, I’m real happy for the decision they made. Gonna net them a shitload of a nest egg. And you know what? They earned it.”

There was an intense silence, obstructed only briefly by the server swinging by the table to gather a drink order from James only to be met with a brusque wave of his hand; he did not take his eyes off of his son’s face.

The silence lasted a beat longer, then; “You mean you earned it. Second-person plural. As CEO of the company, you’ve invested in the largest amount of shares – “

“Ahhh, yeah,” Justin cut him off smoothly, leaning back against the booth and threading his fingers to a basket behind his head. “About that.”

Jennifer stepped in here, digging into her bag for a brief moment before retrieving a manila folder. “I’m sorry to say, Mr. Carriger, sir, but Justin is actually no longer eligible to his rights as a shareholder in the event of a buyout.”

James did not take his eyes from Justin’s face. “You don’t say.”

“Mm.” She flicked open the folder expertly, spreading a couple of key documents over the table before situating herself back into her chair, taking another dainty sip of her water. “In the company bylaws, section thirteen article D, in the event of a buyout, any shareholder who has brought direct hard to an employee must forfeit the market value of those shares.”

The disgust in James’ eyes was palpable, and here he finally turned away from his son with a curl of his lip, rounding his attention to Jennifer. “I think you must be forgetting section sixteen, article B, that any executive who has lost their shares in the event of an accident will cede the market value of those shares to their next of kin.”

“Accident?” Jennifer batted her lashes at him, playing coy, playing dumb in a way that Justin knew she had learned in her years at law school and had only heard about second-hand. “Which accident are we talking about, sir?”

Verging on the edge of his patience, James replied, “The train accident – now, Justin is not directly responsible for the accident on the KaibaCorporation bullet train, but it can be acknowledged that his decisions as Chief Executive Officer are what led to your fiancé and that poor woman’s injuries. It’s my understanding they did not seek extraordinary compensation, and their dedication to the company is to be acknowledged, but – “

Jennifer let out a cooing laugh, grating and pretty and eminently false. “Oh, no, sir. To my understanding, neither party involved in the train accident in Domino were seeking punitive damages for their injuries. But that has absolutely no bearing on the sexual assault your son was involved in earlier this week with his subordinate, the Chief Marketing Officer of Third Star Gaming.”

Justin had to hand it to her: he had never seen his father so speechless, and even from his position as an observer, he had to crack a smile.

“He what.”

The smile plastered on Jennifer’s face widened, all glimmering teeth and threatening promise. “Oh yes, sir. It was reported to me only hours after it occurred, and I confirmed it with the victim shortly thereafter. Her statement is here, if you care to read it. I had it transcribed this afternoon for your convenience.”

From the mutinous look on James’ usually cool face, he did not care to read it. His cheeks began to spot with red, and Justin thought he saw his father’s pulse jump in his neck.

He retained his composure, though, turning back to his son, who raised his brows and shoulders in a gesture of feigned helplessness. “I find it difficult to believe that you would be so careless as to let your libido get the better of you, Justin. At such a critical juncture.”

The accusation was plain, and Justin said nothing, nodding briefly at Jen.

“Now, as you are aware, sir, pursuant to article 13 section D is the following addendum – “ She cleared her throat before continuing; “’If any executive person or persons from party A – that is, Third Star, as specified in line two of the company bylaws – bring egregious bodily harm or otherwise inflict considerable pain and suffering, then during the event of a complete corporate acquisition those shares would not transfer to next of kin (see: article ten, section K et al), but would instead be split amongst the remaining executives of party A.”

Jennifer smiled prettily at his father, and Justin had to admire the irony of the picture. “Now, I’m sure you’d agree that a confessed sexual assault falls into the category of both bodily harm and pain and suffering, but – “ She paused here to dig into her purse for another manila folder, this time much thicker, and slapped it onto the table in front of James with such force that the silverware rattled. “Even if you don’t agree, it’s all right, because we’ve checked with insurance and HR.”

James did not move, instead staring at the thick folder before him with such intensity that Justin thought it might catch fire. Finally, he raised his sharp blue eyes to his son’s face, and Justin had to wonder at the electricity in those eyes – eyes he had so long been spellbound by, locked into place by some wretched sense of duty.

“You son of a bitch.”

Under any other circumstances, Justin would have seized the other man by his collar, throttled him, laid him out with a cold cock to the nose – but considering the situation, he could only laugh. “Hey, now, I don’t think it’s right to speak that way about the dead. I dunno about Irish culture, but I know for sure mom’s people wouldn’t like you talking about her that way.”

“I’m not talking about her, you raving buffoon. I’m talking about you. You absolutely incompetent monkey. What on earth were you thinking?”

What was he thinking? He’d had a primer on the bylaws when his father had installed him as CEO of this venture, but after the train accident in the spring, Jennifer had sat him down and gone over them with him in depth, and he realized how stupid everything was. How so little was dictated by fate, and how if he wanted to have any say, he would have to seize control of what little he had. There was no evidence to support his deepest of thoughts, of course, the suspicions and conspiracies he’d concocted in the middle of the night when only his bottle of cheap tequila was there to keep him company.

But he’d had a gut feeling like this before.

And this time, he would not allow someone he loved to die for it.

“What can I say dad?” he finally said, spreading his hands wide into a shrug, his grin turning sharp. “I never was good with your money.”

[skekzok-the-ritual-master]

Out Of Character Questions

ROLEPLAYER GET TO KNOW YOU PROMPT

Tagged by: @hedonistschambers

Tagging: @ask-skeksa-the-mariner, @allpowerfulemperor, @asktheornamentalist, @askurva-thearcher, and anyone else who wants to :)

OOC About Your Character(s)

1.     What do you want to get out of playing this character(s)?

I used to RP on Tumblr a lot in the Megamind fandom, and seeing other Dark Crystal RPers on here made me want to try getting back into RP a little. Since I don’t have any Dark Crystal OCs who lend themselves well to RP, I decided to go with a canon character, and skekZok was a prominent one who hadn’t gotten a blog yet. I’ve always liked looking at characters and thinking about what makes them tick, so this gives me a fun chance to do that for him.  

2.     Describe your character(s) with three words.

Cultured | Sadistic | Hypocritical 

3.     What made you decide to write this muse?

I’d been following the blogs of a few other Skeksis RPers, and the absence of Zok had been remarked on. Since he’s one of my favorites, I decided to make a blog for him and join in the fun.

4.     If you could change one event in your muse’s life (in their main or canon verse), what would you change?

That’s a tough one, because Zok really doesn’t suffer that much in canon compared to other characters. I might stop ZokZah from trying to burn out part of his soul, but skekZok wouldn’t exist and there wouldn’t be much of a story if I did that. (If we include the JM Lee novels, I’d change it so he doesn’t throw skekSa under the bus.)

5.     If you could tell your muse one thing, what would you tell them?

“Don’t stab the blonde Gelfling girl. It won’t prevent the prophecy, and she’ll just come back to life anyway.”

6.     If you could give your muse one gift, what would you give them?

I’d love to see his reaction to a Swiss Army knife.

7.     If you had to take one positive thing away from your muse, what would you take away?

I’m not sure how positive this is, but I’d take away his ability to believe his own lies. It would be interesting to see how he tries to juggle all the conflicting rules and stories he’s come up with over the centuries. 

8.     If you could “borrow” one aspect of your muse and apply it to yourself or your own life, what would you borrow?

His talent for speaking in public. I wish I could command an audience like he does.

9.     Do you genuinely want your muse to be happy? What do you think would make them most happy in life?

Considering the kind of things that tend to make Zok happy? Maybe. As for what would make him happiest, he believes it would be achieving immortality and remaining one of the highest-ranked of the court and having skekSa as his permanent mate, but that still won’t heal the spiritual emptiness inside him. Much as I enjoy Zok and Zah as separate beings, I do think reunification was the best thing for them. If he and SaSan could have been together after that, that would have been even better.

10. Do you enjoy putting your muse through angst? What do you think would break their heart the most?

I don’t mind angst in small doses, as long as I plot it out with the other player(s) beforehand and we agree how it will turn out in the end. Zok doesn’t lend himself easily to angst, but losing his place in the court hierarchy or having one of his allies turn on him would do it. He’s also come to genuinely believe the mythology he’s invented over the centuries -- anything that seriously challenged that worldview would be hard for him to deal with. 

11. What do you love about your muse?

A lot of things. His charisma, his striking blue eyes, the way his voice is deeper and smoother than most of the other Skeksis, how over-the-top his gold outfit is, how he’s so attached to his headdress that he doesn’t even take it off in the spa, how unrepentantly creepy and sadistic he is -- he’s a very enjoyable character, even if he is a horrible birb.

12. What do you hate about your muse?

He's not an easy character to have interact with everyone. He can pretend to be nice when it suits him, and he’s not totally incapable of caring about people, but he’s still nasty enough that I can tell in advance a lot of interactions wouldn’t go well. 

13. What about your muse amuses you?

The contrast between the austere image he tries to keep up, and how frazzled he gets when something upsets that image (”MY CARRIAGE!”). Also when he gets sarcastic or looks down on the others when they act in a less-than-civilized way. 

14. What about your muse makes you sad?

All the people he’s hurt, and how unwilling he is to see that his way of life isn’t sustainable and won’t truly make him happy in the end.

15. How would you describe your muse to someone about to meet them, in person, for the first time?

“This guy is a creep, but he believes in good manners. Tread lightly, and you should be okay.”

16. Would you like your muse as a person if you met them in real life?

LOL no. He’s an awful person who is best left in the realm of fiction.

17. In what ways are you better than your muse? In what ways are they better than you?

I like to think I’m a much nicer person than he is. I can be blunt and a bit of a troll sometimes, but I really don’t like hurting anyone, or trying to force people to do stuff they don’t like. As for Zok, he’s much more confident and well-spoken than I am, and he’s had the determination to stick with one job for a thousand years. 

18. Why do you think you connect to your muse?

We’re both interested in culture, myth, and history, and feel better when we can assign some order to the world around us. 

19. What aspect of your muse’s personality is most important to you? What aspect of your muse’s personality do you think is most important to them? Is it the same? Why or why not?

As I see it, the core of Zok’s character is that he wants to bring order to the world; that’s why his job title is ‘Ritual Master’ rather than ‘High Priest’ or something more overtly religious. If he can’t see an obvious reason why things are the way they are, he’ll invent one that makes sense to him (and serves his needs). 

I think this is what Zok sees as his most important trait too -- in his mind, he took a bunch of feral newborn creatures who (by all rights) were never meant to have existed in the first place, and helped turn them into a civilized, godlike people who rule an entire planet. But that feral nature is always under the surface, and they still need ritual and order (and yes, punishment) to keep it in check. 

20. Has your character(s) changed over the time that you have been playing them? How have they changed?

I haven’t been playing Zok for very long, but I’ve recently had a chance to write how he feels about deeper questions, like what it would mean for Skeksis to have children, and what happens to Skeksis and urRu souls after they die. I think it’s made him a bit more three-dimensional. 

About You!

1.     What is your name?

Kate, a.k.a. Crow or Lady Stormcrow

2.     What is your profession?

Social worker, currently working in substance abuse treatment.

3.     What do you do to relax?

Watch favorite TV shows, play video games, listen to music, hang out outdoors, chat online. 

4.     What is your favorite treat (desert)?

I have a big weakness for flan and other custard desserts. Also caramel.

5.     Favorite movie

Amadeus (1984).

6.     Favorite book

Good Omens (and yes I loved the series too). 

7.     Favorite vacation spot

Grand Cayman. We were supposed to visit again this spring, but COVID happened.

8.     Favorite Disney movie

I’m not sure I have one favorite, but I love Fantasia and The Rescuers.

9.     How did you first get into role playing?

Almost 20 years ago, lol. When I first started going online in high school, I made an online friend ( @ksclaw ) who introduced me to the concept. We played interactions with our SWAT Kats fan characters, and she helped me get the hang of it.

10. What was your first platform? If it was something other than Tumblr, what made you get into Tumblr?

It was Livejournal. I discovered Tumblr in late 2011 after my friends in the Megamind fandom introduced me to it, and most of us migrated here from our old LJ community. I loved being able to reblog whatever struck my fancy, and while my interest has waxed and waned, as you can see I’m still here.

11. What’s a grammar rule you find yourself breaking or ignoring a lot?

I like to think I have pretty good grammar. I know I’m guilty of run-on sentences, though, and I overuse ellipses and mix up ; and -- far too much. 

12. Are there any languages besides English in which you think you could comfortably roleplay?

Not really. I can speak and understand a little Spanish and French, but not enough to write anything meaningful, and I’m wary of translation software for anything beyond a short sentence. Sorry!

13. Do you listen to music while your write?

Sometimes. Usually not when I’m doing the actual writing (that’s distracting, and I like to hear the words in my head), but I’ll listen to it beforehand to get myself in a mood or get some inspiration.

14. Are you a morning, day, evening, or night writer?

Late morning after I’ve had my coffee is usually my best time. Unfortunately I’m usually at work during that time, but on slow days and weekends I try to take advantage of it.

15. How does tiredness affect your writing?

It turns me into a zombie who can dream but cannot actually write.

16. What is your biggest obstacle to writing every day, if time doesn’t count?

Lack of motivation. I daydream and imagine stuff easily enough, but putting it down into writing is much harder, especially when I’m braindead from work.

17. How many drafts is a paralyzing amount?

More than 5 is daunting, though fortunately Zok hasn’t gotten that many yet.

18. Is there anything character-wise or writing style-wise that you can’t stand?

Players who are unwilling to have their characters be in the wrong, or who get upset if my character doesn’t react the way they wanted. Not all interactions are going to be smooth and happy, and I’m fine with that. Your character is not you, just like mine is not me.

19. What kind of anonymous questions are your favorite?

Weird ones. I like having my muses react to them.

20. What is your weakest point in writing? Angst, fluff, dialogue, etc.?

Fluff is kind of tricky. I don’t have trouble imagining it, but I get paralyzed thinking “this is too indulgent, I shouldn’t publish it, no one but me will like it, etc.” Maybe that’s part of why Zok appeals to me, because he’s not the fluffy type. 

[huntertales]

Part Three: Indecent Proposal. (Devil May Care S09E02)

Episode Summary: In the aftermath of the fall, Sam and the reader are taken by surprise when they learn Crowley is still alive–and stuffed in the trunk of the Impala. A temporary situation before the reader and the Winchesters relocate him to the Men of Letters dungeon. Kevin is anything but enthusiastic about seeing the king of hell under the same roof as him. However the three hunters want the demon close, hoping Crowley will provide useful information about others of his kind. Meanwhile, Abaddon re-emerges and plans to take over hell. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 7,825. (Oops. This got away from me lol)

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

"The hell happened here?"

The location Abaddon led all of you to was a complete ghost town; rundown buildings overtaken by weeds, the ground beneath your fear was nothing more than dirt. It must’ve been decades since it had seen any form of life. You weren’t that surprised to see the demon lured you into a deserted part of the state like this. Better for her to have you all to herself, letting you run around while she waited for you to fall into the trap she set. 

You wondered what came of the town and the people who once lived here that caused it to turn into an abandoned wasteland. Rarely do you see towns and buildings nowadays to be empty like this without a good explanation behind it. She picked this place for a reason, and not just because it was the perfect spot for whatever she had planned in that head of hers.

“A local chemical plant sprung a leak years ago. They evacuated three square blocks.” Sam explained to the both of you the town’s history. You let out a slight noise from hearing that piece of information you weren’t expecting. “Guess it’s still contaminated.” 

"Wait, so this whole place is still poisonous?" You found yourself asking out of caution for your own safety. Sam nodded his head to answer your question. You rolled your eyes, you should’ve figured that much. No reason why Abaddon chose this place. If she didn't kill you, the leftover pollution lingering the air eventually would if you were exposed to it long enough. "It's like our very own Chernobyl." 

Dean didn’t find your words comforting. He found himself thinking of a certain place on his body where he didn’t want to be tainted from any chemicals that might still be polluting the air. You turned your head at the exact moment to see him lower his hand to shield his private area. You let out a scoff and titled your head slightly in disbelief at how he was acting.

“That’s not gonna help.” Sam warned his brother.

“It doesn’t hurt.” Dean muttered. 

You rolled your eyes and lightly whacked his arm away to get the man focused on searching this entire town to find the two other hunters. Your hopefulness that they were still breathing made you disregard the possible contamination you were about to walk right into. You put your life on the line almost everyday with all sorts of threats, a little pollution never hurt anyone until the long way down the line. You kept yourself vigilant for any possible surprise attacks Abaddon and her goons had planned as you traveled deeper into the town. 

You and the boys managed to cover some distance as you kept walking through empty looking buildings with windows still intact and doors most likely unlocked from the rush people must've been in to get out of here. You checked a few buildings and scoped them out to see if anyone was inside, but all the souls that seemed to be around at the moment were just the three of you. You continued to follow behind the boys as you looked around the place, cautiously eyeing the edges of buildings and looking behind your shoulder for any possible demon trying to make a sneak attack. It seemed that you were still alone. However you found yourself stopping in your tracks when you heard a noise, it sounded like shuffling in a building not too far from where the three of you stood. 

You followed behind the boys as Sam drew out his gun for any possible attackers when he approached the diner to inspect inside. The younger man kicked down the door with one swift kick and stepped inside, he took one look around the place to see there was no active threat around. The only people that were inside were the two hunters Abaddon had kidnapped. Sam lowered his weapon and called for you and Dean's attention from what he found. You made your way into the place to see the sight for yourself. While you were happy to see the Irv and Tracy were unharmed, you couldn't take anything for face value, You quietly shut the door behind you before taking one glance around the outside to make sure the coast was still clear from anyone besides the five of you.

"Irv? Hey." Dean pulled off the gag from the older hunter's mouth to give the man a chance to talk freely from the question he asked a few seconds later. "Where's Abaddon?"

"Abaddon's been torturing hunters." Irv said. "She's been trying to get intel on you kids." 

"Do you know why?" Sam asked. 

"I seriously doubt she wants to add you to her Christmas card. Now," Irv veered the conversation to something more important other than trying to figure out the demon's motives for why she was doing all of this. "Do you wanna make it with the rescue or what?"

"Right after you take a shot of holy water, huh?"

You wanted to believe that Abaddon just kidnapped the two and left it at that, but you knew from personal experience that things like her never made things easy. You pulled out the flask of holy water from your back pocket and twisted off the cap, you tugged off the cloth from Tracy's mouth and poured the liquid into her mouth. You watched as she swallowed without a problem and gave you an annoyed glare from the dramatics. She looked young, probably no more than someone in her early twenties at most. She must’ve been new to the game. 

“Happy?” She asked you.

“Sorry about that.” You apologized for the cautious steps you had to take around them. Tracy’s glare seemed to harden when she heard the sarcastic tone lined in your voice. “Gotta be safe than sorry.” 

"Don't worry about it." Irv said. At least the older hunter understood you couldn’t let them free without running a quick test to make sure they were still human without running around in their skin, waiting to jump up and rip your guts out. "Last thing you need is us popping black eyes." 

Dean took it upon himself to free the hunters from the chairs they were tied to after he took out a pocket knife and cut them free. You crossed your arms over your chest and watched as they stretched their aching muscles from sitting in the same position for so long. Sam decided it would have been the perfect time to introduce himself to the younger woman. 

"You're Tracy, right? I'm Sam Winchester." He said. When you noticed Tracy’s gaze had wandered over to you after Sam shifted his finger over to you, you forced yourself to give the woman a half smile and a wave before tucking your arm back where it was before. “And that’s Y/N Y/L/N.” 

“Good for you.” Tracy responded with a lackluster tone, as if that name was supposed to mean anything to her. Your expression shifted slightly from the attitude she was giving the both of you, suddenly looking as if you were boring her with your mere presence. 

“She’s new. We did a shifter job back in Sacramento together." Irv explained how he knew the younger woman. “Smart, but got a mouth on her."

“Sam and I know a little something about that.” Dean’s said. You rolled your eyes when you noticed his eyes wandered over to you to drive his point home. “Now that introductions are out of the way, let’s gear up.” 

You got to work with unloading all the supplies you had brought with you to take down Abaddon and her demons. Ruby’s special knife was your favorite weapon to use against a demon. While it might not be able to kill a knight of hell, something you learned from the first encounter you had with Abaddon, it worked well on others you had come in contact with without a problem. Angel blades were also useful and trusty to have on hand. You had enough ammunition to take down dozens of demons with the special carvings you had made. Might not be able to kill them, but they locked those suckers in place so you could take them down once and for all. 

You threw back a canister of spray paint when Dean took out another gun and set it down on the countertop with the rest of the weapons you had lined up. It appeared to you that you had just about everything you needed to take down the knight of hell once and for all. 

“All right, we got Jesus juice, guns loaded with devil’s trap bullets. Shoot a demon, put him on lockdown.” Dean listed off a few of the weapons Tracy and Irv were free to pick from to arm themselves for the fight ahead. He picked up a silver blade to swiftly flip the weapon in his hand with ease. “The angel blade works.” 

You found your concentration breaking away from the conversation when you heard something in the near distance catch your attention. You turned around in your spot and looked over to the window as Sam jumped up from the table he was sitting on top of and peered outside to see if he could see who caused the noise. The younger Winchester’s expression fell when he caught sight of two demons possessing those soldiers making their way to where you were. 

“They’re coming.” Sam announced. 

“Good.” Dean said, seeming ready for the fight ahead. 

You made your way over to the window and pushed down a few of the blinds to get a better look for yourself. You spotted the same demons Sam had pointed out just a few seconds prior, but he failed to mention they hadn’t come here empty handed. It seemed Abaddon had chosen those soldiers for a reason. You looked over your shoulder to break the news that made things slightly more complicated for all of you. “They’ve got assault rifles, Dean.” 

“Okay, less good.” The older Winchester noted. 

You were pretty sure the whole “don’t bring a knife to a gunfight applied to this situation a little too perfectly. You stepped away from the window and made your way back over to the counter in some kind of attempt to figure out how to get out of here. Luckily the demons didn’t know just yet where you were, they probably knew you were here from the parked Impala on the outskirts of the town. Irv wondered how you and the boys were going to get yourselves out of this one. You’ve been in a situation like this enough times to know that you couldn't risk the chance of sneaking out the back without arousing suspicion. You needed something to distract the demons to give you enough time to bolt. And what a better way to give the illusion that you were stupid enough to go up against them.

All of you packed up your things after arming up with weapons to protect yourselves in the case those demons weren't alone. You anxiously waited behind with the others while Dean was still back at the diner, setting up your phone after you got the brilliant idea to lure the demons into a trap with a recording of the older Winchester's voice on loop calling out the monsters, luring them to an empty diner, all of you long gone. You let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Dean making his way back to the four of you after setting up the phone like you told him to do. 

“All right. We got to flank seal team douche in there, so, Irv, you and me will go left.” Dean said, coming up with a plan for a way to get out of here alive. “The rest of you go right."

You nodded your head at the instructions without much thought and looked over at Sam, both of you ready to start moving. You took a few steps over to Tracy and without much thought placed a hand on her shoulder to get her moving, however it seemed that was the worst thing you could have done. Suddenly you felt yourself stumbling backwards after Tracy turned around and shoved you off of her, hissing at you to get away from her. You were stunned at what just happened, Sam was even taken back himself when she threw daggers at the man when he tried to go even near her. Tracy had given you attitude before, you thought it was because she was pissed off at the fact she was roped into your problems. But she was staring at you like you were the kind of monster that had gotten her into this situation. 

“Okay, that’s it.” You couldn’t take it anymore. You found yourself snapping back at the younger woman with an abundance of frustration from how she had been treating you since you met her. There was no reason for the attitude. Tracy responded by continuing to stare at you with the same disgusted glare. “Look, kid, I am not in the mood.”

“Whoa.” The older Winchester was quick to notice the sudden shift in mood from the reaction Tracy got out of you. He observed the three of you slowly to try and figure out what happened to have caused this. “What’s the problem?” 

“My family’s dead because of them.” Tracy's reason took you and Sam both by surprise. Your hardening glare slowly began to change at her confession, the younger Winchester was left wondering for the few seconds of silence that fell between the woman’s confession to figure out how that could have possibly been his fault. Both of you had done some pretty terrible things in the past. There was no denying that. But to have murdered someone in cold blood? You swore you never went that far. And you didn’t. Just the mistake you had made of freeing Lucifer came with more consequences than you realized. “I watched a demon slaughter my parents, and the whole time, it talked about how it was celebrating. How a couple of dumb kids let Lucifer out of his cage.” 

You pressed your lips together and moved your gaze somewhere other than Tracy. Sam couldn't help himself when he stared at the younger woman with a guilty expression at the actions he knew were all of his fault. He was the reason why Lucifer was freed from the cage. He was the reason why her parents were slaughtered. He wanted to apologize for the pain he caused her, but right now wasn't the time to do so. Dean was quick to switch things up, deciding to have Tracy go with him and let Irv tag along instead. You swallowed down your own heavy conscience in favor of getting Tracy and Irv out of here. Sam remained where he was for a few seconds while his brother and Tracy went off. You placed a hand on the man's shoulder and gave a slight squeeze, nodding your head for him to get moving. 

The three of you went on your journey of heading into the right side of town like Dean told you to do so. Most of the journey was in complete silence, you following behind Sam as Irv chose to linger behind the line that formed. Sam had the demon knife in his head at the ready while your loaded gun remained tucked in the waistband of your jeans. You didn't know why, but you found the confession Tracy made lingering in the back of your mind. From the way she looked at you. How she told you both that you were the reason why her parents were dead. You carried the burden around what happened back at that church on your shoulders every single day. If you could change the past, you would in a heartbeat. You even tried to fix your mistakes...but all that came of it was more mistakes on your part. 

"Kids, you copacetic?" Irv's question broke the silence between all of you. Sam nodded his head as you did the same a few moments later. You stopped behind a building and looked over at the older hunter, wondering to yourself why he wanted to know such a thing. “Good. Now hand me that toothpick and you two get Dean and Tracy—you beat feet out of here.” 

“What?” Sam sounded nothing more than confused as to what the man was suggesting. It sounded like a suicide mission, because it was. There was no way in hell you were letting Irv in there by himself with all those demons with one knife and no backup to help. 

“I’m going in there alone.” Irv said. “I’ll buy you two as much time as I can.” 

“Irv, that’s death.” Sam told the hunter. 

“Yeah, well, it’s what I got coming. It’s my fault, Sam.” Irv’s confession wasn't what you were expecting to come out of the man's mouth. You looked at him a little funny from what he was implying, wondering how that could be such a thing. There was more to the story that the hunter withheld from you until now. "I was in some dive and I was sloppy and lonely and I met some girl, and the next thing you know, I'm strapped to some bed and she's twisting things that ain't supposed to be twisted.”

“‘She’ who?” You questioned the man.

“Abaddon.” The name that fell out of the hunter’s mouth made you sink your shoulders down in disappointment. Sam took the news the same as you. Irv was distraught with the things he had done against his own will, but there was only so much a man could take before breaking. “I gave ‘em up. Pete, Tracy—I gave ‘em all up. So you hand me that blade and let me do what I got to do, or so help me—” 

Before the man could finish the argument to get what was coming to him and die with some dignity after the wrongs he had made, it seemed death came to him sooner than he was anticipating. You felt a sudden gasp of surprise escape from your mouth at what happened in the matter of seconds. You didn't realize Irv had been shot until you saw him lying on the ground with a bleeding wound in his chest. Sam quickly grabbed a hold of your arm and yanked you closer to him when he figured out what was going on. You felt your back collide with the brick wall as another shot went off. The demon who was trying to take you down must’ve been a sharp shooter. You and Sam quickly drew out your own guns, knowing a simple knife shared between the both of you wasn’t gonna cut it. 

Sam slowly inched himself closer to the edge of the wall and peered out with his weapon to see where the demon was. He managed to spot him sitting on a rooftop straight ahead, he took his chance by firing off a few rounds until he managed to hit a bullseye into the scope. When Sam tried to aim for the demon next, that’s when you made a run for it, Sam following behind right after you. You ran for cover in the nearest building that you found and pushed the door open with your body, not even bothering to think there might be someone inside waiting for you. You didn't come into that thought until you saw someone pressing their shoe against your wrist that was holding your gun. You looked up to see the barrel of a gun staring back down at you and the smile of a demon to greet you. 

“Boo.” The demon taunted you. 

+ + +

Dean couldn’t help himself when he thought back to what Tracy had said about her parents. The situation of freeing Lucifer came with a ripple effect that felt like it was never going to end. When all of you thought the dust had settled and things could go back to somewhat normal, there was always a small wave to come creeping back up. Tracy had every right to be pissed off at what happened to her parents. Hunters got into this lifestyle without much of a choice, almost always it was because of some sort of tragedy that dragged them into this lifestyle. You and the boys knew the story. It was your lives that lead you to this point. The reason you made the choices you did. 

You and Sam made mistakes with terrible consequences. There was no denying that factor. But so did Dean. Irv most likely would confess that he had nightmares from his past choices that kept him up at night. Everyone does. He was sure Tracy would make some along the way. In the moment, before everything falls apart, you feel like it was the right thing to do. You don’t realize how wrong you are until you’re faced with the mistakes of your actions that you can’t go back from. 

“Okay, I think they’re still inside. We wait till they come out, and we pick them off one by one.” Dean gave the layout of his plan while him and Tracy slowly made their way closer to the edge of a gafettied up wall. She listened without much as a peep. He adjusted his grip around the knife and looked over at her for a second. "Listen, for the record, Sam and Y/N weren't the only ones who thought they were doing right and watched it all go to crap. Okay? That's just part of being—"

“Being a hunter.” Tracy cut off the man, finishing his sentence with the moral lesson she thought he was trying to make. 

“Being human.” Dean corrected the woman. “Look, you want to be pissed off at them, that’s fine. I get it. But if you want to go after somebody, you make sure they got black eyes. Got to know who the real monsters are in this world, kid.” 

Dean nodded his head for Tracy to start moving when he thought it was the perfect time to start heading to the spot he located. He cautiously made his way forward with his gun pointed forward and figured just centimeters from the trigger, ready to take down any demon that tried to get the jump on him. However the hunter was stupid enough to overlook the small alleyway that was just big enough to have someone hiding in there. Dean found himself being taken by surprise when he felt someone take a swing at him, sending him straight to the ground. Tracy was fast enough to act without a second thought. She fired off several rounds into the demon that now stood in front of her, thinking it would have been enough to take her down. However this demon had seen this sort of trick before, and learned some herself. 

Tracy lowered her gun when she realized the five rounds that she shot off had done nothing to the redhead. Instead all she got as a reaction was a smile. Abaddon lifted up her shirt to reveal the bullet proof vest she was wearing. The hunter was stupid enough to waste all her bullets on a chest shot, why she didn’t go for the head was a rookie mistake she would pay for in mere seconds when Abaddon went over there and ripped her throat out. 

“Nice grouping. Kevlar. Beats magic bullets.” She said. “I love the future.”

Dean had some tricks up his sleeve to make the demon back off enough for a chance to get Tracy out of here and get some extra weapons. He twisted off the cap to a flask of holy water and splashed it in Abaddon’s face, happy to know that at least something worked on her. She stumbled backwards as her face burned from the liquid. Dean took his chance to get back up to his feet and make his way over to Tracy. He shoved his car keys into the palm of her hands. 

“Listen, my car is three blocks over. Go get more bullets, more holy water—get everything.” He instructed her. Tracy couldn’t help but worry about the man from the danger that he was putting himself in if she left him. “Just go! Go! Now!”

Abaddon felt the burning sensation on her skin slowly subside as she watched Tracy listen to the man, running off and going for more supplies would be rendered useless. The demon grew a toothy smile when she saw Dean turn around and face her, ready to let the real fun begin. She adjusted her red hair and tossed back a loose curl from her face. The demon had been waiting for a very long time to finally see the older Winchester’s handsome face. 

“Alone at last.” She said. 

Dean responded by taking out an angel blade from the inside of his jacket, something Abaddon wondered to herself how he managed to get hold of such an odd weapon. She smiled at the flimsy little tool that he thought was going to take someone as powerful as her. She watched as he attempted to take a stab at her, but the demon managed to block the shot with ease. Abbadon roughly disarmed him as she bent his arm behind his back, pulling him uncomfortably close to her body with his back pressed against her chest. She made the situation worse by hovering her lips over his ear.

“I missed you. Did you miss me?” She whispered to him. Dean wasn’t given a chance to give a snarky response from the way Abaddon was bending his arm to the point where all it would take was one wrong move and she’d snap it. She pushed him forward and down to his knees, his one arm still painfully in her grasp as the other was wrapped around her wrist. There was no way Dean was going to get out of this one, at least, not without Abaddon's permission. "So appreciate Y/N and you boys coming when I call. I think that's what I like most about you Winchesters.” The demon used her free hand to run her hand through Dean’s hair, enjoying the sight of such a handsome face. She smiled when he felt his body stiffen under her touch. She grabbed a fistful of the short locks, forcing his neck back slightly. “You’re so obedient. And suicidally stupid. I like that, too.” 

“Are we gonna fight or make out?” Dean asked the demon, wondering where all of this talking was going to lead them. “Cause I’m getting some real mixed signals here.” 

“I want Crowley—or what’s left of him.” Abaddon said, giving her reasons to the hunter. 

“Yeah?” Dean wondered if that’s all it really was. He flinched when she tugged on his hair, forcing him to look up at her with a tilted neck. “What’s in it for me?”

“I let you die.” Abaddon said. The demon thought her persuasive offer would be something Dean would be very much interested in than deal with the consequences if he didn’t cooperate. “You give me Crowley’s head, and I will snap your neck quick and clean.” 

“And if I tell you to get bent?” Dean asked. 

“Well…” The demon’s gaze fell away from Dean’s face and to his body, her lips stretched farther into a smile at the sight of a familiar tattoo on his chest. An idea crossed the woman’s mind that seemed like a perfect act of revenge against the man if he didn’t do what she said. “You know, I’ve loved this body since the moment I first saw it.” 

Dean grabbed the demon’s wrist when he felt her grab a fistful of his jacket and shirt, bunching up the fabric as she yanked it aside to reveal the one thing stopping her from using his body like a puppet. She smiled at his attempts at fighting back. The man was no match against her. “You’re the perfect vessel, Dean. You give a girl all sorts of nasty ideas. Y/N is a very lucky woman, being able to enjoy this body all to herself.” Abbadon eyed him up like a piece of meat she was ready to devour. “So go ahead, and play hard to get, and I’ll peel off this ‘No demons allowed’ tattoo and blow smoke up your ass.”

“Oh...well, I got to tell you, between you and me, it’s a horror show up there.” Dean warned the demon if she chose to be stupid enough to try and ride around in his skin. The demon merely chuckled at the man’s silly little thoughts that were nothing more than foreplay compared to what she could cook up in a mere afternoon. 

“It can get worse. Trust me. Have you ever felt the pure joy of ripping a fetus straight out of a mother's womb? I was gonna do that to your little girlfriend when I went to the church. Just like how I did to Henry. Remember that? Of course you do. Maybe I’ll make you do it. I’ll use your body any way I please.” Abaddon chuckled darkly when she saw the look that crossed Dean’s face from her own threat. It was so easy to get humans riled up when you went straight for the people they loved. “Let me ask you, Dean. Have you ever felt the blood of an infant drip down your chin? Or listen to a girl scream as you rip her guts out?”

Abaddon forcefully grabbed the man by his face, digging the nail of her index finger into his skin as her thumb rested against his chin. “Because you will.” The demon promised him the torture ahead for him. “You and me lover, and we’ll have a grand old time. Because if there’s anything I can keep, it’s a promise. And I promise I’m gonna kill everyone you love with your own bare hands.”

+ + +

There was only so much two hunters could do when they were up against three demons. A fight like this wouldn't have been a problem if you were on your feet and gave Sam a proper warning to take them down when he had the chance. All you could do was regret your slow response as you were dragged back up to your feet by the demon who was crushing your hand with his boot. You tried to put up a proper fight, you really did. But there were only so many times you could handle your head being smashed against the wall before your vision grew blurry. After the demon was done with you for the meantime, he tossed your body across the room like you were a rag doll. A set of chairs broke your fall after you hit the table and went sliding to the ground. 

Sam was struggling to hold his own after he was somehow overpowered by the two demons that chose to pick a fight with him as you went up against the other. If given a proper chance, he could have taken them both down, but he realized that the fight was rigged not in his favor when he heard the sound of crashing. And it wasn't the demon you were going up against when someone decided to join in. Things were starting to look grim as the younger Winchester kept on trying to take them down. If he could find the knife after he dropped it, maybe he could take one or two down before going after the other. One of them demons roughly threw him across the counter and watched as he fell to the floor like a ton of bricks, laughing at how easy this was going to be.

In the moment all Sam could think about was trying to survive and use the knife that he lost on the three demons and not let them use it on him. He didn't realize that you were back up on your feet after being knocked out cold. It seemed your awakening caused the demons' attention to shift away from the younger Winchester. They were soon going to realize who they were staring at wasn't you, but something else. Sam didn't forget there was someone else hitching a ride in your skin. A silent passenger who was healing your internal wounds and organs back to normal. The angel hadn't made a peep or broken his problems about doing what needed to be done. But it seemed that Ezekial had come out just in time, as if he knew the both of you needed a lending hand.

Sam quickly lowered himself to the ground when he saw your eyes starting to glow a bright blue, as if the angel was warning him for what was about to be done. He heard a warning about covering his eyes before the room was lit into a blinding white light. The ground beneath his feet began to violently shake from whatever the angel was doing. Whatever he had done, it stopped quickly as it started. When Sam noticed the ringing in his ears stopped and his vision grew black, he noticed things had calmed down. He outstretched his hand and placed it on the counter, using it to push himself up to his feet to inspect the damage Ezekiel had inflicted. 

The younger Winchester looked to see that Ezekiel was standing over the dead body of the demon who was ready to kill him with the same knife the angel was using to slit the monster’s throat. Sam wondered why Ezekie was doing that when the demon was already dead. But then he realized, the angel was covering his tracks. He was making it look like one of you had done this. Sam made his way from behind the counter and watched as Ezekiel continued to work on the last body, finishing up right as his brother rushed in to see what the commotion was all about after witnessing only a glimpse from the outside.

"Thanks for the heads up." Sam spoke up, his tone of voice made him sound the least bit thankful for the rescue. And he wasn’t. He still wasn't sure how he felt the angel possessing you. You were tricked into having another partner walking in your skin, healing you up. He knew now was not the time to strike up the argument about his disagreement with the plan. 

"They were going to kill you and Y/N." The angel must have felt Sam's lingering stare, the frustration from the unexpected jump in appearance after being quiet for the past few days. Ezekiel turned his head to give the man a blank, almost unreadable expression. 

"Ezekiel?" Dean sounded surprised to see the angel was the one who was still out and about, cleaning up the mess that he had made so it wouldn't cause any suspicion for when you woke up. The older Winchester turned his head to see that his brother was okay. A little pissed off, but same from harm. "The hell did you do?"

"We had it under control." Sam said.

"If I didn't intervene when I did, you would be dead right. And so would Y/N. I was protecting your friend." Ezekial said. Sam knew the angel was right about that. But he wouldn’t admit to it. The silence that followed told the angel he wasn't going to be thanked for the rescue. He didn't understand the younger man's hostility towards him, he was merely doing what was promised. "I thought that was what the both of you wanted."

"Right, yeah, no." Dean mumbled out a response to the angel, his mind racing too fast for him to comprehend the situation he was in right now. For a split second he thought he was still talking to you. It looked like you, sounded like you. But the person standing in front of him was an angel who promised to help. Ezekiel hadn't made such a peep since he hitched a ride in your body a few days ago. Seeing him out and about took Dean a moment to comprehend. "I-I...sorry, I'm just still getting used to this whole thing." 

“As am I.” The angel agreed with the complexity of the situation. 

"Is she gonna be okay, at least?" Sam asked the angel in a concerned tone of voice. if anything, your well being was the one thing he cared most about. "Y/N. Is she gonna be okay?"

"She was knocked unconscious. In a way, she still is." Ezekiel said. "Y/N will not remember any of this." 

"So what the hell am I supposed to tell her when she comes to?" Dean questioned the angel.

Dean was no stranger to a situation like this; two souls sharing a body with one not knowing the other was there. It happened too many times with you. The memory loss, the questions. He didn't want to deal with the complications like he had to when you were still a half demon. When you found out about that, the fall out caused damage in a monsterous way. But this...this was worse than any of that somehow. Not only would he lose your trust you would most likely never forgive him. Maybe you would never be able to look at him in the eye. And when you did, all you could think of was that he was a selfish man. Choosing your life over another. "Selfish little bastard. That's what you are. You should've let me die...you should've let me be at peace." 

"That's why I used the knife." Ezekiel's voice broke the man out of his personal thoughts. Dean looked down to see the demon knife in the angel's outstretched hand. 

"Right." Dean muttered, grabbing the knife by the handle and dropped his arm back down to his side. "Smart." 

Ezekial noticed the shift in Dean's voice first before his expression began to change. Despite talking to him, Dean couldn't look at him directly in the eye for very long. He slowly turned around so his back was facing him. Dean must have felt as if he wasn't speaking to an angel, but you. He was lying to your face without having talked to you directly. "You are troubled, still." 

"Yeah, it's that, uh...this is on me. I was the one who talked Y/N out of boarding up Hell. Okay? And I know what would've happened if I let her. All of this is my fault. I should've been there. It should've been me who did those trials. Not her. Not Sammy." Dean admitted his guilt for the entire situation that affected them here. He looked over at his brother, as if he was silently wanting to let him know not to carry this burden. All of this fell on his shoulders. If he had been quicker, if he said no to Cas maybe all of this would have turned out differently. But it didn't. "So every demon deal, every kill they make...well, you're looking at the person who let it happen."

“Dean, come on.” Sam suddenly spoke up after hearing the nonsense that was coming out of his brother's mouth. “It’s not your fault.” 

"You were protecting Y/N. I am in her head. Everything she knows, I know. And I know what you did, you did out of love." Ezekiel said. The words weren't reassuring enough to help ease the older Winchester's worried mind. "You two are soulmates, correct? Dean slowly nodded his head, wondering why it suddenly mattered. The angel's lips stretched into a smile. "It's a love not many humans will experience in their lifetime. But it doesn't always show in romantic forms. I believe it can be palontic as well. The three of you have a strong bond. Unbreakable. She can feel it." 

"Yeah, uh, look, Zeke—and I'm gonna call you Zeke—we're not really with the whole love, and...love." Dean was starting to feel a little awkward from how this conversation was shifting into sharing their feelings. He did it for almost no one. He barely let his brother in sometimes. The only person who could see him at worst, the most vulnerable was you. He always had a soft spot for you. He was the only one who told you that he loved you. Three little words with such heavy meaning. And yet they felt too hard to say these days when the both of you needed to hear it the most. 

"But it is why I said yes." Ezekiel said. 

"Yeah, and if that goes sideways, that's on me, too." Dean said, shifting the blame on himself for a situation that hasn’t even arisen yet. 

"That's not going to happen." The angel reassured them both. 

Ezekiel's kind words didn't help the older Winchester's racing mind. Dean let out a chuckle from the situation he was in. "This is nuts. I mean, you're Y/N, but you're not Y/N, and normally she's the one I'm talking to about all this stuff. You think I would be used to talking to someone else in her skin." Dean muttered the last remark to himself, his lips stretching into a weak smile at how this situation was spiraling. "Sam and I are trusting you, Zeke. I just gotta hope you're one of the good guys." 

"I am." Ezekiel promised both of the Winchesters that he wasn't like his siblings. However the angel was quick to realize how the human mind worked. Sometimes a worded promise didn't come with reassurance that they meant what they spoke. They were complicated creatures, their words were flimsy. They could mean so much to a person, and yet so little. "But I suppose that is what a bad guy would say. Sam and Dean Winchester, you are doing the right thing.”

The brothers slowly looked away from the angel, finding their gaze reached to each other.  Ezekiel’s words were full of reassurance and hopefulness that everything was going to be okay in the end of all of this. Much as things seemed like it could be, but nothing was going to make the guilt that came as a heavy weight on their chest loosen up even the slightest. If anything, the words made it feel worse. Both of them stared at one another with the same defeated, almost pained expression. If this was the right thing, the only good thing they could have done to save you...then why did it feel so wrong?

+ + +

You didn’t come back around right away. The boys kept themselves busy while your body remained where it was on the floor, making it appear as if things were left as you last remembered them. Dean dropped the last of the supplies into the duffel bag as you slowly made it back into consciousness. You weren’t sure what was going on right away, feeling the coldness against your bruised cheek made you piece together that you were on the floor. How you got here was still a blur. You shifted around slightly as you tried to sit up, but the sudden jolt of pain reminded you that you weren’t willingly put here. A demon had thrown you across the room...

The sound of someone speaking your name made you jump slightly in the noise you weren’t expecting, your mind tricking you into thinking it was a demon trying to go another round with you. When you looked up to see that it was just the boys, Dean holding the bloody knife that you remembered his brother lost in the fight you had gotten into, you were confused as to what was going on. You looked around the diner from where you were to see that it was just the three of you. 

“Guys?” You winced as you slowly pushed yourself up into a sitting position, wiping your hands clean from the dirt you accidentally touched. You noticed the bodies of the demons you had tried going up against, now lying on the ground dead. You furrowed your brow slightly in confusion and looked up at the brothers. “What the hell happened?” 

“You took a shot to the head, Sammy was pinned up against three demons. I came in and saved your asses, like usual.” Dean gave you a recap on what you missed out on. 

“You killed three demons?” You asked him. “Alone?”

“I took them by surprise while Sam distracted them.” Dean slapped a hand on his brother’s back and cracked a smile at the fake story he was making up on the spot. To you, it sounded like the truth. He slipped the clean knife back into the inside pocket for safe keeping. “Got a little messy. I got a little lucky. Oh, and uh…” He outstretched for you to take and pulled you back up to your feet like you weighed nothing. “I’m awesome, so there’s that.”  

“Geez. Yeah. You are pretty damn awesome. Nice work.” Your eyes wandered around the three dead bodies that were led to believe were killed by Dean. A smirk spread across your lips as you looked over at the younger Winchester. “You did good, too, Sasquatch.” 

Sam couldn't help himself but smile at hearing the nickname for the first time in what felt like forever. The conversation was monentaly paused when you heard what sounded like the Impala's engine coming your way. You and the boys headed out to see Tracy was coming your way, she parked the car out front and got out to greet all of you. You felt a little easier knowing she was at least safe from the harm. 

“Hey. You okay?” You asked her, expecting a snarky response in return. 

“Yeah.” She said. “What about you two?” 

You shrugged your shoulders, “More or less, yeah.” 

“Good.” Tracy took you by surprise when she sounded rather happy to hear. She must've noticed your slightly skeptical look at her change in behavior. She tossed the keys to Dean and made her way to the backseat. "I got everything. But guess I'm late to the party."

“Lucky you. Let’s blow this toxic waste dump.” Dean said. All of you took your respectful places and got comfortable for the long drive ahead of you. "Burgers and silkwood showers on me." 

You smiled at the thought of eating something and washing away the possible containimentation you were subjected to. You might not have been able to take down Abaddon easily as how you wanted, and not to mention how Irv was killed. But you had to take your wins where you got them. You and the boys made it out in one piece, ready to see another day.

[Next Part]

Rewrite Taglist:

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Message me if you would like to be added!

[founditinsilence]

🌻 !!!

thank u! here’s a childhood memory bc yours have been so incredibly iconic:

preface: i was a bit of a sad, nerdy kid in primary school. i usually preferred to sit on a bench alone w my thoughts rather than joining in games.

but i loved pretending the playground was hogwarts. to join our hp “club” you had to list all the book titles in order, then pick a character (i was always cho, don’t question it too much, i was 10) and we basically just ..... ran round, shouting spells.

one day, my best friend brought in these plastic stirrers - the kind with a cube of chocolate on which melts into milk to make hot chocolate. he said they’d make good wands.

except, i had this other project going on. 

i’d taken to standing in the corner of the playground, where the tarmac met grass, when i wanted to be alone. one day, i started scuffing the dirt with my shoe. a friend came along, asked if i was ok, and idly started scuffing along with me. our feet made a little scooped out hollow.

don’t ask me how it turned into this. but at some point, i enlisted my other six or so friends to join in with the foot-digging. i think we swapped to using hands at some point. the hollow turned into a big puddle. then i took on the role of architect and explained my vision; that this could be a waterfall.

the plastic stirrers were no longer wands, they were spades. we’d all crouch around this patch of mud, digging out clumps of soil at a time. it got pretty deep and wide pretty quickly. like, a good 30/40cm. it had little “shelves”, rivets, steps, whatever you want to call them, so any water would cascade down to the bottom. i was basically project managing a water feature at this point.

there was some building work going on at the school, and one day, a mate got dared to drop her soil-covered stick in the coffee cup of one of the workmen. she did, and somehow never got called out for it. this heist was the biggest rush i’d probably ever experienced at age 10.

we’d snicker in lessons, give each other little nods that meant digging later. we’d absolutely leg it out of lessons when the bell rang, fully sprinting, especially when it had rained that day, over to the corner to see whether the waterfall was functioning. it just kept getting bigger and deeper. i think i only remember a teacher once or twice approaching us to ask what we were doing, and she didn’t care or say to stop.

when we all went to different high schools, friends would still bump into me in town years later or message me on facebook like “remember the waterfall?”

i honestly think this would be my legacy. except my mum is a teacher at the same primary school i went to. a few years ago i was like “do you remember when i dug up that corner of school with my mates, lol jokes”, and she was like “no i wasn’t aware.” so i said tomorrow, go check - i explained the location. and she came back home and was like “don’t know what the hell you’re on about, there’s nothing there, just normal flat ground.”

so either the waterfall caused enough uproar that some contractor or gardener was made to fill the hole in. or my mum’s messing with me. or, this whole thing was some sort of lucid dream and never happened.

new ask game: send me a 🌻 and ill just tell you whatever the fuck i want

[spiders-hth-is-an-outlier]

So I’ve been kinda snide about the GoT finale, and that’s -- not entirely fair, because it was, I mean, fine.  It was fine, for what it was -- for what the show wanted to be, which it turns out was, “Will the Stark Kids make it out of these troubled times okay?”  And they mostly did, and it was fine (sorry, Robb).

And just so I don’t feel like the last living human without a Hot Take on Game of Thrones, I thought I’d take a shot at why, in spite of having a number of strengths and being sometimes pretty great, the overall arc and particularly the ending made me unhappy as One of Those Annoying Book Fans.  (I’m going to say all this like it’s Objectively True, which surely we all understand nothing is, so insert all the relevant in-my-opinions and all that.)

So I *love* the books, the books were a life-changing revelation for me when I started reading them back in 1997 when I was a slip of a 21-year-old lifelong fantasy fan.  And yeah, I know the reputation now is “ooooh, aren’t you a grimdark edgelord, so impressed with your gritty fantasy faux-realism,” but -- uh, I’m not sorry.  Because the thing is I wasn’t reading for “realism” in the sense of “this is like reality” -- I like *narrative,* which reality unfortunately noticeably lacks, and ASOIAF was very clearly a crafted narrative that was trying to say extremely specific things *about narrative* and about the cognitive dissonance that arises when narrative-loving human brains have to cope with narrative-indifferent reality.  That may seem like slicing the distinction pretty fine, but I think it matters.  The books weren’t just a bunch of shit happening because “in real life, that’s what would happen, just a bunch of shit.”  The specific shit that happened, and its ramifications and the way people processed said shit according to their distinctive needs and perspectives and hang-ups, was all extremely deliberate, and aimed straight at a Serious Thematic Point, which is that fantasy novels are obsessed with exactly the most irrelevant shit possible, and maybe that’s a problem.

These are books that revolve around a crisis in succession and legitimacy of kingship, like practically all high fantasy does (even more so back then, but it still seems pretty common).  An usurper sits on the throne and two legitimate heirs are in exile, and there’s this constant sense of unease, because from the perspective of our main viewpoint character, that’s -- good?  Because even though the Baratheon dynasty took over illegitimately, Robert is a better king than the last one, and Ned supports him.  Only Robert himself is uneasy and paranoid, his reign totally dependent on the goodwill of a family of rich assholes he hates and constantly haunted by the idea that the Targaryen children might come for their revenge, which by the cultural logic of Westeros, they’ll pretty much deserve.  So here you have all this palace intrigue and political skullduggery, and it’s immediately interesting because instead of being about restoring the Rightful King, it’s about propping up the guy who had the Rightful King killed, because he’s not great but the first guy was worse.

But the deeper you get into it, the more you start to realize that above and beyond the “subversive” flipped script of the idea of royal legitimacy, there’s a second and *far fucking better* subversion happening.

The point of the books is that IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER who sits on the throne.  That the entire “game” is not just flipped in the sense of “you thought this person should be the king, but really it was a different person who should be the king” -- the game itself is illegitimate, and destructive, and fundamentally absurd, a bunch of assholes wreaking limitless chaos out of their fixed ideas about cosmic order, which are, every single one of them, wildly wrong.

It happens on two prongs simultaneously -- first, the Iron Throne doesn’t matter because *whoever* is “in power” is immediately hamstrung.  They can’t actually do anything of any significance, because they’re 100% occupied from the moment they step into the bullseye with fending off eight hundred other assholes who want to be king of the hill, so no succession in the entire series can happen in an “orderly” or “legitimate” way -- every one of them is bedeviled by uprisings and invasions and civil wars and assassination attempts and legal challenges, and the point is that this will continue to happen forever, while the world just kind of trudges on.  The second arm of IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER is the long game, because Winter Is Coming, and not one person on the entire planet is remotely prepared to put their personal bullshit aside in order to figure out what to do with an ice zombie invasion.  People are just going to keep offing each other for imaginary honors and getting knocked off in their turn, and one day they’ll wake up and realize they rule a world that’s uninhabitable and NONE OF IT FUCKING MATTERED.

That was the point of ASOIAF to my reading, and that’s what I loved about it.  Its “realism” was that it drilled down hard into the brutal reality that we saturate ourselves in stories about how great it’s going to be when the Good Leader is on the throne at last, but *that’s never going to happen,* because leaders are regular humans who run the gamut between “pretty all right” and “just the fucking worst,” but they change pretty regularly, and waiting for the Good Leader to fix it all is a sucker’s game anyway, because people don’t just show up and save the world and establish The Good Times and then the story is over.  That’s *not a real thing,* and maybe we should tell at least the occasional story that doesn’t end that way, so we won’t all be so goddamn obsessed with pinning our hopes on saviors who don’t pan out.

The thing is...I don’t know how you end a story like that.  I more than a little bit suspect that GRRM also does not know how you end a story like that.  When the whole point is that politics is an endless game with no real winners and that even the putative winners aren’t really capable of stopping the tides of history, when do you ring the curtain down?  I actually have no idea.

What I was not hoping for was a final season that is entirely, uncritically, about making sure we all feel good about who gets to be kings and queens and who doesn’t.  That -- DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER.  I mean, I almost love having Bran take the throne, because there’s this weird subtextual kind of “lol, who cares, have that guy do it I guess” baked into the meaninglessness of Bran, who doesn’t want anything or, mostly, even feel anything.  But all the literal and figurative chair-shuffling at the end of the episode about who’s going to serve on the council and who’s in charge of what, I just....  It seems like the writers really thought that was the payoff.  That what we all needed to know about the Game of Thrones is who ends up winning it.

And that’s such a baldly, drastically, jaw-droppingly bad payoff for the ASOIAF that I loved.  The suggestion that the realm will be brought to some kind of peace now that the Correct, Better Dynasty is enthroned in the allied Six Kingdoms/North is completely ass backwards from the entire point of the books.  Winter coming and going harmlessly, the Others (White Walkers, whatever) dispatched in one single-night battle, just betrays the source material so audaciously that it feels like it had to be deliberate.  That was the whole goddamn story!  That Winter Was Coming!!!!!  And then the show just -- didn’t do that, and instead built its climax around A Good Leader dispatching A Bad Leader, whereby the realm is saved, yay.

Only the point was that power operates systemically, and power itself takes in the people who would wield it, and power replicates itself in the forms that are familiar, and that the problem isn’t that we need to keep searching for the Rightful King, because *power doesn’t suddenly become benevolent when it’s invested in someone with good intentions.*  I know there are still people who will argue with me about that, and -- I mean, fine, that’s a matter of differing political philosophies, but Team Great Man Theory of History can rest assured that basically every other epic story will back up their worldview, because that worldview makes for better, more satisfying stories.

ASOIAF was written for the rest of us.  It was a big, rich, plotty, absorbing epic story about a world where people were only human and things were only ever going to get put right to the degree that the world has ever been put right, which is...not especially.  But still, the characters were *human,* and what they chose to do mattered.  At least, it mattered to exactly whichever degree you personally believe that the things people choose to do matter, and it kind of challenged you to answer that question for yourself: if you knew you were never going to win the game and never going to save the world, because it’s not that kind of a world, what would you do?  Would you still try to be a hero?  Would you take the world for everything you could get?  Would you just keep your damn head down?  Would you just chase what you loved instead of the fate of nations?  Would you try all those things at different times, as seemed right to you in the moment, and then live with the consequences?

I don’t know how the hell you make that into a tv show, or if it’s even remotely possible.  I just know that the show they made needed an ending, and the one they went with just felt a lot like every book I’ve ever read in my life *except* these books.  Which might have been inevitable from the beginning, but it’s still disappointing.

[alastheatlas]

Why Klance/Laith Will Probably Go Down - Masterlist

I know how season 7 broke many of us. We had a lot of expectations and this season, while beautiful and otherwise good, certainly failed at some points.

However it isn’t the end yet. Hopefully season 8 will resolve at least some of our disappointments. But when it comes to klance/laith, I’m pretty sure we’re going to see something happen. Nothing has to happen however. But I’m just saying, based on all of the things listed, it just simply makes sense that it would.

This is just a show so whatever happens happens. But I'm just saying I'll have faith in laith until if the very last second of the show tells us any different. And here’s why.

Are you ready? [CONTAINS SEASON 7 SPOILERS!!]

-----------------------------------------------------

but first some lecturing lololol

WHATEVER HAPPENS AND WHICHEVER SHIP BLOWS OUT THE BIG CANON IN THE END IS FINE. IT'S JUST A SHOW. A SHOW THAT DOESN'T EVEN REVOLVE AROUND ROMANCE. If you can't handle that then you can go bite ass. Oh and also, Don’t spread around hate or threats or any shit like that. You should know better. Just enjoy the show as it is. And yes, this applies to if your ship becomes canon and if it doesn’t. Spreading hate and threats are never okay. Accept whatever the outcome of the show will be, and let people ship what they want. This isn’t your story and you shouldn’t become sour just because it doesn’t go the way you want it to go, and if it does go the way you want it to go, don’t rub it in the faces of those who wanted something different.

Just be mature and decent guys, it really ain’t that hard.

-----------------------------------------------------

ANYWAY here's my half-assed list of why I believe klance/laith will be endgame by the end of the series:   

[I REPEAT THIS CONTAINS SOME S7 SPOILERS]

Let’s begin with some random stuff:

Lance’s one-sided rivalry with Keith seems to... have something a little extra about it.

The blue and the red star in the astral plane?? Do they hold a deeper meaning??

The bonding moment. It could be seen as platonic, but... The colours and the lightning y'all... Interesting choice. (Also... that a//urance parallel in season 6... Coincidence I think the heck not, purposeful I think the heck yes)

Keith being seemingly really impatient for Lance to come out of the healing pod after the bonding moment, and then appearing to actually sulk for having to wait just a small moment.

In one of the comic books Keith says that he’ll be training and suggests that maybe Lance should too, maybe or maybe not wanting to hang out with Lance and trying to create an opportunity, and then seems to become upset/disappointed when Lance rejects the idea.

Lance talking to the mice about his crush on Allura could honestly pass  as him talking about Keith as well. 

Honestly though was Lance flirting/trying to impress Keith as pointed out here x?

They really pulled the stuck in the elevator trope lmao.

This doesn’t actually have to do with anything but I still find it a funny parallel with Lance rejecting Keith by denying the bonding moment and Keith rejecting Lance and denying him a proper greeting and hug after returning. Are they even now? fuhidsdfu top 10 anime betrayals

The Feud episode (here are the s7 spoilers!!)

Lance chose Keith (read more here x). Look, listen. This was pretty gay. To put it briefly, Lance’s reasoning was kinda weak and he could’ve honestly as well have chosen Allura here. But... he didn’t. And then he seriously says that Keith is the future which is like honest foreshadowing (especially considering how unnecessary it was for him to say that part, at the very least in that way). And then to deliver the final blow he drops that soft smile (a la bonding moment) on us. I don’t care what happens in season 8, this moment was gay af. If I’m stretching a little bit this scene could be viewed a little bit like Lance choosing between Keith and Allura (looking to the side and then the other, pondering, choosing Keith).

Keith chose Lance (same read more link x). Again to put it briefly. We know Keith seems kinda grumpy here. You know what we also know? Keith doesn’t dislike Lance, and he cares about the fate of the universe, therefore invalidating his answer. His body language and expression alone said it all; he closed himself off. He wasn’t comfortable sharing the real reason why he chose Lance. Keith no doubt knows what Lance is capable of. He trusts Lance. Keith chose Lance for a reason (or several reasons), and him ‘not wanting to be stuck for eternity with him’ is definitely not the reason why Keith voted for Lance to escape. Worthy mention of Keith being the quickest here to choose and to finish.

Bii. Boh. Bi. Y’all. This shit. Call it a funny coincidence but the answer was “bi” and the Bii-Boh-Bi kept gesturing towards Lance basically during the entire thing. Call it a stretch if you want, but I have no regrets reaching for this cup. And call it a crack theory at this point but Bob tells the Bii-Boh-Bi “Maybe you could help this dum-dum out”, so this drink tastes like whatever-this-episode-even-was wanted to give Lance a shake. The name game wasn’t even valid. You can be bad at names and bad at remembering faces and still be incredibly smart. None of the games showed Lance actually being unintelligent. And Lance actually did very well in the last game, and I can tell you that game was confusing af so I’m impressed. With this in mind my arm has personally elongated so far that maybe Bob calling Lance ‘dumb’ here wasn’t a jab at his intelligence. Ok hi my ankle is broken but it was worth it. 

Interesting scenery colours and rainbows:

There are several cases of these, but they’re mostly subtle. I’ll leave some examples.

That one episode in season one (is it 06? or 07? you know the one) that is literally the bi flag. We have a lot of Lance in this ep.

In this ep we are also accompanied by at least two rainbows, one when Lance and Nyma fly across the water and another at the end when Keith teases Lance. (Honorable mention of Keith arguably checking Rolo out in this episode lol, we see u Keith x)

That episode when Lotor plays around with the paladins on that planet with the explosive gas, and when the team has split and Keith nears Lance with his lion and no kidding that's the bi flag as a background right there (upside down).

The very obvious, big ass, very not subtle rainbow that's seriously plastered on Keith in the season 7 trailer.

Random rainbow over Keith here as well

The scene where the paladins are in some galra place or something and Lance is sharpshooting and looking down at the others. Background + Lance’s suit + his gun = bi flag colours. 

Funnily enough in this scene when Keith shows up and starts fighting the galra robots (or whatever those things are) and Lance goes ‘I had that guy!’ he looks wayy too long at Keith. Like. Way too long.

Ogling/gloating and jealousy?:

“I’d recognize that mullet anywhere” I’m sorry but if that doesn’t sound like someone has been ogling then I don’t know what.

Again I’m sorry but Lance’s reaction to Keith when he returned wasn’t of the straightest caliber.

Still, when Lance keeps looking at Keith fighting for several solid seconds when he’s supposed to be shooting down galra robots. Parallels a//urance in a way a little bit too when Lance looks at Allura fighting and goes ‘that was awesome!’

But Keith isn’t all that better, apparently

Keith. Out of all people. Stops mid-battle to smile at Lance when Lance shoots away a knife heading towards Keith. Not noticing Axca coming up behind him and then almost getting his ass kicked by Ezor.

After the bonding moment Keith arguably seems like he's jealous when Lance starts flirting.

(Here’s some more hehe x)

How Lance being jealous when Keith is involved could actually be interpreted as ambiguous. It is never actually clarified who he’s jealous over. why not both

Really though the "Jealousy, thy name is Keith" from the comic could possibly be more true than it lets on (though not as you think, Lance).

Honestly I’ll never get over these danking looks:

Lance you’re excused but Keith?? What?? Is that face?? The boy flirted with a girl and ran off and got his lion stolen and you had to get it back for him and you make THIS face?? (Also I think this is the same face 80′s voltron Keith did at Allura at one point?) 

Lance you’re no longer excused. He seriously looks like he's daydreaming of prince charming coming and sweeping him off his feet. (Also remember the face he made when talking about Mrs. Blue Lion x?)

KEITH. HONESTLY. WHAT.

Legit there are no excuses for any of these expressions.

Now for some parallels, some weaker some stronger:

[x] (Krolia/Texas and l0tura parallels, with a dash of Zarkon/Honerva)

[x] (a//urance and l0tura parallels)

[x] (s7 spoiler!), Might and might not be a reach but a//urance parallel (same energy lol))

[x] This entire scene (they make a great/good team). Let’s not forget the little hand glasp Lance does.

[x] (tlok parallel)

[x] (atla parallel)

[x] (atla and tlok parallel) Insert Lance in this context lol

[x] (tlok parallel)

[x] (a//urance parallel)

There are so many parallels tbh I can’t

Allura honestly parallels Keith so much and she LITERALLY plays Keith in the coalition shows

[x] Lance talking about Mrs. Blue Lion vs talking about Keith

[x] (l0tura parallel)

A//lurance and klance/laith paralleling with how both Keith and Allura lectures Lance about the coalition shows not being about the show but about the people 

Some romantic mood parallels:

The previous blue paladin with a (blushing) male galra

Now lets move on to some interesting stuff from interviews and the cast and producers (no sources or direct quotes because I’M LAZY:

We all know about the art Lauren drew with Lance and Shiro holding up the lgbt sign and the theory that goes with it.

Bex pretty much confirming that there'll be lgbtq rep in voltron through a sinister laugh in that vid (we know now this to be true bc of Shiro, but there might be more to come?.. or unfold hehe if you catch my drift). Voltron having lgbtq rep has also been brought up before at interviews. I THINK there’s been hinted that there’ll be a little something something between two characters? Not sure tho

Bex also either confirming or shooting down klance/laith during another vid BUT most probably confirming. You know that vid. Reasons to believe: 1. It was dubious, since we don't know which of the questions she shaked her head to. 2. High Hopes by Panic! At The Disco was playing in the background. 3. I don't think she would actually openly deny a ship when she could have just ignored the question, much less making it so dubious.

Kimberly: "Friendship" (may or may not actually imply something within the future of the show, or if it just was @ the thorsty klancers)

We know that Lance will have an endgame (and Keith happens to check all the points of what’s been said about that endgame)

Lance will end up somewhere different than he thought at the start (he wanted Allura at the start, and Keith certainly would be someone different than he'd thought).

What he wants isn't necessarily what he needs(/gets?? I don't remember lol) (and we know he wanted Allura. plus the lion exchange becomes a pretty interesting topic here, as further talked about here x). 

What he needs/wants is someone who’s self-assured and who knows who they are (I think it was) and hey look Keith is back! (who just happens to fit these criterias more than ever).

The plain fact of how Keith and Lance's arcs actually just seem to intertwine so well.

Also adding that klance/laith interview lol. With the "natural progression" thing and that. And also when Lauren said the only incompatible thing about Lance and Keith is the shipname 'klance'. 

Lance’s milkshake bringing everybody to the yard.

It’s been said that Lance remembers the bonding moment but wasn’t ‘emotionally ready’ for it, whatever that could possibly mean 👀 

And apparently there’s more story to unfold... 

Which may or may not be related but sure makes this a hella lot more interesting (I find this cup worth reaching for ok)

(lmao if you seriously think the folding thing was an accident)

I’m not saying that the pic necessarily implies klance/laith but it certainly implies something with them. Which will be. Interesting.

Some interesting theories:

[x] Regarding the “Red lion” and the “Blue lion”

[x] Keith’s vlog and some interesting tagging

[x] Some possible, interesting foreshadowing?

Highkey Lowkey scared this is actually foreshadowing (from a comic, Keith is the one saying ‘isn’t that love’, and Lance is the other one)

Also some reaches because we love long arms:

[x] Rivals to friends to lovers foreshadowing lol

[x] Interesting... Funny coincidence?

[x] I know I know but honestly you can’t deny his face here

[x] I’ll also add this while I’m at it because I can 

(s7 spoiler ahead) Look this is just an interesting concept ok, but in episode 2 in s7 when they’re splitting up in that tunnel, Allura goes one way and Keith goes the other. We see Lance going last, slowing up and almost seeming to take a little time to choose, before going the way Keith went.

So uhh yeah here’s my grand, half-assed take on it. Season 7 can come bite my ass if it doesn’t happen, I’ll be on the lookout until the very last episode of season 8. Klance/laith may or may not happen. But I strongly believe it will and honestly that’s just what makes the most sense to me. 

But yeah reminder that ships doesn’t have to be canon for you to ship them, and if your ship becomes canon you should not harass others about it and you shouldn’t harass others if your ship doesn’t become canon either. All in all NO HARASSING. NO HATE. NO SHADE. JUST. BE DECENT. This includes to the creators and other people in the fandom both. 

Always be prepared for voltron to sock you in the stomach. Season 7 might very well do so. Season 8 might very well do so. Be prepared for your expectations and hopes and wishes to go completely out the window. But no matter how it goes, let’s just sit back and relax and enjoy the show as much as we can beyond our internal screaming.

In the end this is an intriguing story with aliens about family and being a team and it’s beautiful. So let’s just enjoy it, no matter what.

HAVE A BEAUTIFUL DAY

[thewinsisterchronicles]

What You’ve Done (P2)

Warning: mentions of broken bones, pettiness, tension (not sexual you nasties), pointing out Dean’s insecurities coz he’s being a little shit, bit of a cliffhanger

A/N: so I realized like 20 seconds after posting the first part that I had a huge plot hole, so I had to go back and fix it lol----- also!!!!!! let me know if you wanna be tagged. This is gonna be a long series and I'm SO PSYCHED FOR IT so just let me know k thx

also!!!! shoutout to @random-superwholock-images​ for the monster I used:) she’s awesome and you should totally check out her writing

(Y/H/C= your hair colour : Y/N=your name)

Dean kept his eyes on the road- or, at least, that's what he tried to make her believe. Y/N glued her eyes to the passing trees, but she knew he would glance to her from time to time in the rear view mirror. She could tell when his eyes were on her. It wasn’t exactly a foreign feeling.

Sam, however, was more… openly concerned about her.

The whole car ride consisted of him trying to get her to talk. The first five minutes featured him asking about Clyde. When she answered the questions about her father without giving any information, he switched over what she was doing in the forest.

“Why’d you come here?” he questioned her.

“I think you already know the answer to that question,” Y/N replied without turning from the window. Sam frowned at Dean.

“What do you mean?” he asked, slowly turning back to her.

“We’re both hunters,” she said simply.

“...That doesn’t mean we’d know anything about you,” Dean huffed. This girl was a real piece of work.

“If a bunch of hunters come to the same place,” she countered, “don’t you think there’d be something going on here?”

“How would anyone know to think that?” Dean asked.

“I did.”

Dean glared at the road. Sam quickly sensed the tension.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “what is it we were looking for, then? We came out empty.” Dean glared at his brother for betraying them to this Y/H/C-haired-demon. Sam ignored him.

“Abhartach.”

Sam blinked.

“What?” he asked incredulously. Dean’s eyes were a mix of confusion and surprise.

“Abhartach.” Y/N repeated, turning to look at them. “Well, not technically, since the Abhartach was originally just one monster, but it’s a… like a variation of it- or a descendant. Basically, it’s a combination between a zombie, a dwarf, and a vampire. They really like fresh blood, because of some old sacrifice the original monster demanded  because... well, ’cause he was a mean dude, to put it gently.”

“Huh,” Sam huffed. “Never heard of it.”

“That’s a first,” Dean muttered. Sam rolled his eyes. Y/N smirked in the backseat, catching the eye of Dean. They looked at each other for a brief moment before Y/N put on a straight face and turned back to Sam.

“How’d you kill it?” Sam asked, ignoring Dean’s jibe.

“Well, an Abhartach comes from Irish folklore,” she explained. “The only way to stop him is to kill him with a sword made of yew wood, bury him upside down, surround his grave with thorns, and placing a large stone on top of the grave.”

“All that?” Dean asked. “Where’d you find that out?”

“This magical place I call...” she paused for suspense. “the internet.” Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“And you did all that with the help of…?” Sam trailed off. He tried to put it lightly, in case she was close to him; she didn’t seem that shaken from his death, though.

“Derrick?” Y/N shrugged, “He didn’t do much. Wasn’t a great hunter. Even when he was doing something, he did it poorly. I was the bait, too. He just got in the way.”

“Sentimental, much?” Dean quipped. “Wasn’t he your brother?”

“Not by choice.” Y/N turned back to the window. She squinted out the window.

“But you’re family,” Dean stated, confused. “Family... you gotta look out for each other.”

“I know you Winchesters have this weird thing about family,” she said softly, “but the rest of us are a little different. Some of us... the lucky ones get to escape traumatic experiences, holding to what we have left after it.”

Sam and Dean were quiet, waiting for her to continue. They briefly exchanged a look.

“The rest of us try to save our own skin.”

Her face settled on a hard look, veiling it in a small smile. She turned her body to face the window as best she could, clearly ending the conversation. The boys exchanged a glance. There was something going on with the girl in the backseat.

By the time they made it back to the hotel, it was around 11 o’clock. The sun was high in the sky, blazing down on the pavement below them. The three of them left the car, quickly making their way to the wooden door marked 23. They rushed into the room, hoping to avoid making a scene.

Two full grown men and a muddy girl weren’t exactly unnoticeable.

She limped slightly, too. Dean tried to ask her about it, to offer help or something, but she dismissed his concerns; he was “overreacting.” Dean could immediately tell that it was a broken ankle.

It didn’t exactly make him trust her more.

“Here,” Sam threw Y/N a flannel. “I know it’s a bit big, but you could really use a new shirt. I can go out and grab you some pants or shoes or whatever- if you’d like.”

“That’s alright,” Y/N smiled. “I can clean them up in no time. It’d be nice to shower, though.”

“Of course,” Sam copied her expression. “Take your time.”

Y/N thanked him, smiled kindly at Dean, and left to the bathroom. A minute later, the shower turned on.

“I don’t trust her,” Dean said as soon as his voice was muted by the shower. “Clyde was a real dick, and there’s something about her…”

“Dean, we found her hiding under a tree.” Sam grabbed a beer from the fridge, tossing one to his brother. “I think we can afford to give her a shirt and let her use the shower. Besides, I think she’s fine. She’s just… wary. You’d be too if you lived with Clyde.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Dean muttered as he drank. The two of them listened to the shower silently.

“I’ll take her out tonight for dinner,” Sam offered. “Get to know her. If she seems more trouble than she’s worth, then we’ll find out what to do with her. Maybe she could go live with Jody.”

“I don’t want her anywhere near Claire and Alex,” Dean said abruptly. “If she’s anything like what Clyde tried to shape us into, then she’s dangerous.”

“Fine,” Sam complied. “But I’ll see tonight if she is or not. Then we can decide.”

The two of them finished the rest of their beer quietly, mindlessly exchanging conversation about wrapping up the hunt, since it had already been dealt with. About ten minutes later, Y/N emerged from the bathroom. Dean didn’t know how she did it, but somehow her jeans were clean. Not totally pristine, but no one could’ve guessed she’d been hiding in the bush for a couple days. She smiled softly at him when she met his eyes. They were inviting, friendly. He reflexively smiled back. He quickly wiped it off his face, replacing it with a subtle scowl.

“So, Y/N,” Sam started, gesturing to the chair in front of them. “What is it exactly that...”

“What happened?” she offered. “I told you; we don’t know each other well enough for that.”

“We’d know each other better if you would talk to us,” Dean miffed. “Conversation goes both ways; you’ve got to work on this thing too, you know.”

“I’m aware,” Y/N stated. “But to be fair, you haven’t exactly been sharing, either.”

“You’re little miss Sherlock over here,” Dean said sharply, twitching. “Always poking around in people’s heads, stripping them down into some damn appetizer you plan to devour. You’re always judging people, picking and choosing what you want them to be and shaping them into it. Daddy Clyde probably forgot to teach you about personal space, about boundaries. Why don’t you deduce away?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, straightening up.. Sam looked at his brother in confused awe. Dean’s eyes were razor sharp, staring coldly at Y/N like she was a monster that killed someone in cold blood. Sam had only ever seen him so angry in such circumstances.

“Well?” he challenged furiously. “I’m waiting.”

“You’re always waiting.” Y/N spoke coolly, like this was all a simple conversation. Her voice flowed smoothly, trickling out her mouth and filling Dean’s ears. “I can tell. Not even from what I’ve heard, but from what you’ve shown me. You’re always waiting for something or someone. Probably Sammy, here; you can’t function on your own. You’ve been living in the shadow of your father- the daddy issues are clear here- and you’re always the grunt; Sam’s the genius. You’d be kidding yourself to think otherwise.”

Sam felt paralyzed. He wanted to step in, to stand up for his brother, but he couldn’t make himself move. Dean twitched. He couldn't hurt her; that wouldn’t end well for him. He couldn’t get mad, either; that’s what she wanted.

“So tell me, Dean,” she drawled, leaning forward in her seat. He clenched his jaw. “Has Sherlock deduced her way into your mind? I could go deeper.” She let out a short laugh, making the boys jump. “Probably a sentence you’ve never said.”

The Winchesters moved from anger to confusion. Y/N seemed to be on three different levels here. What the hell goes on in your mind? Dean thought.

Nobody said anything. Dean was staring straight at Y/N. Y/N was staring straight back, the ghost of a triumphant smirk dancing faintly on her lips. Sam’s eyes were darting between the two of them, waiting for one to break the silence.

Dean didn’t like Y/N.

Of course, he didn’t blame her for being the way he was. He’d been on one hunt with Clyde- not knowing about Y/N at the time- and had subconsciously made a vow to never cross paths again. He was always harsh, critical; putting himself in charge and letting others take the fall. Hunting was a game to him. Clyde was a robot, a cold-blooded killer. He didn’t care if his victims were human or not.

Dean had a feeling that Clyde only hunted because he got to kill something, and it wasn’t (completely) illegal; it wasn’t bad. He could say he did it for the “greater good” or some bullshit like that. Clyde was like Sam when he’d lost his soul.

Any kid raised by him had to be the same. He wouldn’t have given them any other choice.

Y/N was... unique. Strange. Deceptive. Cold and calculating. She’d be talking about one thing and noticing all your exposed weaknesses while doing so. She always seemed to glance around too much for a conversation. Sure, it could be just social anxiety or fear, but Dean recognized that look.

She was planning an escape. Always. Even when they were just talking, or sitting in the car, or staring someone down; she was always thinking, always observing. The gears in her mind never seemed to stop.

Y/N was too brash, too observant, too deceptive; she looked like a grunt but had a wit sharp like broken glass.

She was too much like Dean.

They’d left little less than ten minutes ago, giving Dean time to read up on the “Abber-teck” or whatever it was called. Everything fit together, so he supposed she was telling the truth about the creature. Didn’t mean that she was an honest person, though.

He was halfway through another beer when his phone began to buzz. He didn’t recognize the number on his phone, but it felt familiar. After letting it ring for a moment more, he finally picked it up.

“Hello?”

The other end of the line crackled quietly, making no other sound. He was about to hang up when a voice came through.

“I see you’ve got my daughter, Winchester.”

Tags:

@zeusmyster @mogaruke @melodramavibes @assbutt-still-in-hell @spn67-sister @thegreasiestbear @sammysbeanie @thyotakukimkim @lemonadegazeelle

[etymologv]

dear mother of penguins

genre: oneshot, almost drabble-like, fluff, slight angst (but really, mostly some schoolgirl fluff lol). Hamilton references.

pairing: highschool!kim taehyung x reader

word count: 2.3k+

summary: A series of interactions with Kim Taehyung, someone you never understood enough, and possibly never will.

(a/n): this was my first ever fic and short story that's not for a school requirement and I just really felt like writing this, edited a bit from the original version from my main blog. enjoy! :)

Taehyung. He has always intimidated you without even trying to. He was tall, or at least much taller than you were. He was popular for being and having basically everything everyone else seemed to look at—good looks, an angelic voice, brains, and good humor. Maybe a little too much humor though. But deep inside, you knew you loved it.

Decent. That was how you described, maybe rated him in eighth grade when your best friend of two years Irene asked you what you think about him, because everyone just liked him. You found that part odd though, because you’ve known him for two years and you have always thought that he was decent at best.

Math. It was a math project in the first semester of tenth grade that made you talk for the first time. You’ve had interactions before, but those interactions didn’t even reach the point of interacting enough for them to count as actual conversations. And for the first time, you thought, maybe he isn’t as intimidating as you had always viewed him.

“Ah, I’m lucky,” you hear him whisper as Mr. Jung announced the pairings for the project. He was even smiling. You almost blush.

At around nine in the evening, he contacts you in the form of a Facebook message, the first of your Messenger conversation.

Taehyung: Helloooo im starting w page 5 and working my way up, can u start w page 1??haha

And so you did. After finishing two pages, you read his messages on his progress and oh my goodness he has finished three pages and apologizing for doing almost nothing?! Though you didn’t mind. You were even amused.

Fresh linen. You noticed that that was how he smelled while you were checking each other’s work. Attractive, you thought to yourself.

Glances. You found yourself stealing glances only to see him already looking at you.

Fast forward, your English teacher announces that your project for the year is a stage play. And of course, everyone wanted Taehyung to be the male lead character.

He deserved it though, he had this soothing voice that could have this aggressively ambitious vibe to it if he wanted to. Perfect for Alexander Hamilton. You even thought he sounded a bit like Lin Manuel-Miranda.

You ended up having the role of his mistress. Who would sit on his lap grabbing his hair, his face buried to your shoulder. Now, let us tone that down before you experience problems in breathing and just talk about the part where you would cup each other’s left cheek. Your innocent high school heart gets on the verge of exploding just with the thought of your scenes.

After your first weekend practice for the stage play, you had snacks. And a whole pack of ice cubes for some reason.

After the war, I went back to New York, a-after the war I went back to New York-

Non-stop. That was the song that was playing when he ended up in front of you, cupping both cheeks instead of one. Neither of you said anything. Staring. There was just staring.

This is the first murder trial of our brand-new nation-

Your heart was thumping violently, pace increasing each discernable unit of time. You were scared, scared of how you looked, if you blushed. You were scared that however you reacted would give you away. You looked down and tried to play off the looking-down as something cute by swaying your head with his hands still on it. Left, right, left. He removed his hands. Neither of you said anything, and both of you just joined your classmates in the game they were playing using the ice cubes.

You felt something. You felt it. No matter how many times you tried to reason out what happened with it simply being part of practicing. Hell, the song where you were supposed to do that wasn’t even playing.

After some minutes, you ran to Jimin to give him a detailed report on the interaction. Sometimes you regret telling one of his closest friends about how you like Taehyung a lot, but Jimin was that kind of person who would smile at you and support you on your almost-nonexistent moves, as he puts it.

The next week, he laughed maybe a little too loudly at a joke you said.

I hid the letter and I raced to her place-

You ran to each other, his arms grabbing yours. You insist that you had nothing to do with your husband James Reynolds knowing about your affair. And then you whispered, “You know, this does look very similar to In Time. I’m basically draining the time you have left right now.” He let go of your arms and started laughing. Really loudly. While walking around and eventually banging his right fist against the wall for more laughing support. It was very Kim Taehyung to laugh at whatever whenever, but you couldn’t help but think this was maybe a little too much. Still, you liked it. A smile forms on your lips. His boxy smile, that signature Kim Taehyung smile, that was going to be the death of you.

Later that day, Jimin and Taehyung started paper mache-ing their way to making guns for props.

“Can you help Taehyung with the gun he’s working on? You can tear the newspapers for him. If you want.”

Ah, Jimin. If you looked closely, you would have seen how his eyebrows bounced up and down slightly. Breathe in, breathe out. With a careful small quick smile, you nodded.

You grabbed the lifestyle section and sat on President Washington’s chair. Or Alexander Hamilton’s. Depends on which song you look at. Can you even look at songs? What are you even saying? Breathe in, breathe out. He chose one of the chairs for Non-stop, which was very much beside yours.

And you were talking. After 15 minutes, you still were. At first, it was just about music taste and all that jazz (and sometimes you hate your humor for having puns even in your narrations), but the topics somehow got deeper. It felt amazing. He intrigued you, he seemed like someone that’s unreachable, in the sense that he wasn’t the type to go below the surface.

“Is Supreme close?” You were curious. He was part of Supreme, the dominating social group of the school, but part of you didn’t feel like the group was healthy for each other. Damn, a lot of people even thought their name itself wasn’t good for them. A couple, both sides members of Supreme too, suddenly went awkward because Supreme kept pushing them together. Jongdae, also a member, posted an unfunny meme of Taehyung’s picture even though Taehyung wasn’t laughing anymore. Maybe they just didn’t have the word limits in their vocabularies.

After some seconds, he replied, “I guess so, yeah, I mean we do hang out sometimes, eat lunch as a group, watch movies and shit like that.”

“I mean, close, like open to each other, like you’d share what you’re feeling, joke around but know each others’ limits, and ‘shit like that’?”

Taehyung looks up. “I guess I can’t say everyone’s comfortable with everyone. You see, we’re like a network of units of close friends. The girls have their own thing most of the time too.”

You’re reminded of how many times the thought that he keeps everything to himself without any form of release has crossed your mind. You just feel it when someone’s down. And whenever you feel that he is, nobody asks him if everything’s okay.

You find yourself wanting to be the one he opens up to.

You stand up and make your way to Jimin to refill your cup of glue solution. When you come back, Taehyung is sitting your chair, chuckling, “Thank you for the chair. You can go sit on my hand-me-down-much-less-comfortable one.”

And suddenly you were both laughing full on, both wondering why, but still laughing.

“Oh, and hey, let’s exchange numbers? For stage play matters?” He looks like he’s trying to hold back laughter, but you take his phone and enter your number anyway. He adds a contact to your phone as well.

The next weekend, he was late to the practice, but maybe it’s you who came early since aside from you, there were only five people.

To Taehyung

Heyheyhey where are you?

You text him. There was no reply.

“Have you realized anything yet?” was the first thing he said when he arrived.

“What is there to realize?”

“Well. Maybe I entered one less digit than I was supposed to in your contacts.”

Taehyung that little…  “Yah!” So that was why.

Taehyung with his hair down, parted in the middle. That would make you melt faster than the sun can.

The day before the stage play, he had his hair down, parted in the middle. And dear mother of penguins he looked amazing. Breathe in, breathe out. Do not fangirl in front of him. “You look nice with your hair down,” you manage to tell him without melting because you would like to reiterate—dear mother of penguins he looked amazing.

But dear grandmother of penguins, he styled his hair like that for the whole week.

Summer. It was one summer three am when he messaged you with only your name in it. You replied as soon as you woke up, which was eight hours later.

You: Hi, sorry for replying late, what’s up?

Taehyung: Ah, nothing, I’m sorry

Taehyung: Again im sorry

You: What for? everything ok??

Taehyung: Nothing, sorry again

The next day, you message him.

You: Henlo

Taehyung: I heard that greeting was for stinky people?? Stop greeting yourself HAHAHA

You: YAH!!!

You: >:<<<<<

Taehyung: Anyways

Taehyung: Yesterday when I chatted you

Taehyung: I said it was nothing because I was drinking with Yoongi at that time haha

A beat. Your heart just skipped a beat.

Nana. In the middle of the first semester of twelfth grade, you noticed that he’s been with Nana a lot recently. Nana getting into his car with him. Nana spending lunch with him. You’d try to avoid selfish thoughts, but you can’t help but notice how you’ve been talking much less. And not so long after it was confirmed. You were beginning to sound like a thirteen year old whose crush won’t like her back at this point, But she was everything you weren’t. Fair skin, bright eyes, long legs. She screamed the societal standards of beautiful.

But you can’t forget how she broke Jimin’s heart, and how Taehyung’s could be broken too.

Watch. That was all you could do. Watch and see what happens. You’d accept it if they’re happy. Though that would hurt you, you would somehow accept it and learn to be happy for them as well. If he gets hurt, then you’d be there, and when he heals, you’d still be there. You would cry with him and recommend both sad and uplifting songs and crack the corniest of the jokes with him. You were still young, and it wasn’t sure if your feelings for Taehyung would fade or not. But you would watch. You would be open to other possibilities, because whatever happens, happens.

Twelve years after. It was twelve years after you graduated from high school that you first saw him in person again. You entered different universities, and just… lost touch. The last time you heard from him was when he messaged you saying that he was going to delete his Facebook account because his parents told him to, but he didn’t mention his new number.

You were absent-mindedly munching down popcorn when Jimin called your name. He was at the food counter, arguing with the staff because he was pissed that they were out of cheese powder, and put barbecue flavor powder instead on your shared extra-large bucket, without telling either of you about it. He was extra mad, because he planned everything for the string of activities for your honeymoon. You both wanted cheese, you both loved cheese and knew it, but you didn’t mind barbecue. Except he did, because it was an extra-large bucket that is not cheese. He was so mad to the point that he wanted to talk to the manager, but the manager was on leave, and the owner of the movie house was there instead.

You stood up, walked to the counter, and instantly froze when you saw the reason Jimin called you. There he was, Kim Taehyung, hugging Park Jimin. He was the owner, and you have no idea why you haven’t seen each other when this movie house was where half your dates with Jimin took place. Seven years of frequenting the place and not noticing at all? Was this the first leave of the manager in seven years? Didn’t other customers with worse tempers have complaints?

“Hi,” was all you could say.

“Hi, it’s been so long. How are you?”

You run to them and join the hug, and after pulling away, you say, “As much as I would like to talk to you right now and catch up, the movie we’ve been planning on watching since the trailer came out is starting in fifteen minutes and I’m sorry.”

“Coffee? The three of us? After the movie?” He offers.

After the movie, you catch up. He tells you that his parents gave him this movie house as a gift when he finished college. And that he took a business management course. And that he and Nana broke up after five years of going on and off. You tell him that after seven years of being with Jimin, you got married about a month ago. Your husband adds that this movie date was part of your honeymoon which you’re not supposed to know how long it’s going to be because he’s got it all planned as a surprise, and that he’s still upset about the popcorn flavor, but of course he’s joking and Taehyung knows that. What he didn’t tell you was that he has seen you and Jimin several times, but he didn’t want to show himself. Watch. That was all he could do. He knew that he was special to you, but he also knew that Jimin was much more than that. You looked much happier, you were much happier. He figured that showing himself might confuse you, and he didn’t want to risk that. He believed that you and Jimin were strong, but he still wanted to wait for the right time. Though the right time never seemed to come.

And there he was, watching you two leave the café, smiling at how being in a fight with the cheese powder supplier gave him peace.

[jessiewre]

Day 6

Fri 10th Jan

I could barely eat at breakfast which is obviously very much NOT like me. I was too nervous and excited. I honestly had no idea what this gorilla experience was going to be like.

We walked down to Ruhija gate and the tourist vehicles were pulling up with all the Muzungu’s. We had read the day before that anyone needing to go to the toilet on the trek in, lets say, a big way, would need to ask the guide to dig them a hole and then the guide would cover it up again. AWKWARD.

So basically everyone turning up was heading to the loos to attempt to avoid having to publicly request a forest shite.

There was a community group who danced and performed in traditional style for everyone to start things off, but there was one tourist couple sat right next to the stage side who had completely straight faces the WHOLE time while these (mainly) women were jumping up and down, smiling, singing, banging their feet and throwing their bodies around with massive enthusiasm. It was WEIRD. So Phil and I tried to look doubly enthusiastic, which also must have looked a bit weird. A lot of teeth.

After that there was one SUPER ANNOYING girl who kept talking when the main guide did his introduction and we made a quick pact via eye contact and eye rolls that we would avoid whatever group she was in at all costs.

Thankfully we succeeded and our group looked like the perfect level of boring. Bang on, this was ideal.

Our guide Steven’s face was slightly lopsided and he was missing some teeth, while only one half of his mouth seemed to work. Having said that, we could understand him completely and he seemed very knowledgeable and experienced. We just hoped that he hadn’t been on the losing end of a few fights with some gorillas. Though perhaps it would bode well for us to know that he’d survived a few gorilla wrestles come to think of it.

The guides explained that there was a maximum of 8 people allowed in each group (plus any porters or guides attending) and that the trackers would go out each morning to find the gorillas ahead of us trekking. There were 4 gorilla groups in the forest, the one we were looking for was called Kyagurilo.

We were driven to a starting point based on the trackers location and guidance and we began to trek into the forest. We had an armed guard with us all the time. Apparently this is to shoot into the air to scare off animals if necessary - such as wild elephants. It would be useful if that annoying girl had been in our group too.

It was a slight gradient at first, which then became steeper downhill. Not too tricky though. It seemed bizarre to imagine that we would see gorillas there, it really wasn’t that different to a walk in an English forest..

After only about 45 minutes, we met some trackers who gave us the 200 metre warning. This means that they are close by and we must now do the final checks, take drinks of water (no food and water when close to the gorillas). Steven told us we could leave our rucksacks there and we’d come back and get them later.

Then we looked up and in a tall tree, we could see a gorilla! Wow it was amazing, climbing through the trees, just being a gorilla an that.

Then we saw another, and another!

After 10 minutes we got the go ahead to move deeper into the forest so we obeyed and followed Steven and the trackers.

We stood under a tree with a gorilla in and looked up to try and work out its movements.

Suddenly something heavy landed on the ground, maybe a rock or something, then it happened again. We shifted back a bit as they had landed quite close to Phil and then I saw a spray of liquid leave the top of the tree.

‘It’s pissing!!!!!!!!!!!!’

Turns out those rocks....were gorilla turds.

Phil was like ‘A GORILLA JUST PEEED ON MEEE!’

He definitely thought he’d been blessed by a gorilla and accepted into the group. Maybe not that surprising.

We were surrounded by trees and plants and foliage and then suddenly Steven pointed and under some greenery was a gorilla sat there. We moved past it and another one appeared and walked past us. There were two gorillas nearby, then one lay down on its back and scratched while the other ate some fruit. We then saw a mother and baby pass us and climb up a tall tree to explore up in the trees.

It. Was. Mad.

All the gorillas had by now moved up the trees so Steven said that it was a waiting game and we should just sit still. We should wait to see when the silverback came down, as it might give us then chance to see the group closer up.

Well I’ll be honest, I had my doubts. I thought we’d had an amazing time and seen lots of them and pretty close too and that we were going to end up heading back soon.

But we waited.

I mean I didn’t have any other plans like.

We sat/stood in the same spot for about an hour and a half, looking around, asking questions and listening to the longest largest loudest farts you have EVER heard in your LIFE.

BOY gorillas have got GAAAAAS.

These farts would last like 20 seconds no lie.

Our group didn’t even seem to laugh very much but I swear to god when you are stood in a silent boring group doing nothing and a giant gorilla fart echoes through the forest for longer than you ever thought possible, I challenge you not to laugh. Phil was proper lolling.

After like 1.5 hrs, a large black back gorilla climbed down a tree and began to venture deeper into the forest, so we all went into action mode and our guides said ‘Right lets go! Lets follow!’

It was super exciting as we kind of chased the tracker through the jungle, trying to stay on the gorilla’s tail. Just when you thought the gorilla would stay still, it would move deeper into the undergrowth.

I looked at the gorilla disappear and I thought Well there’s no way we can follow him.

But the guides with the machetes just thrashed away at the undergrowth and we followed on. No matter where the gorilla went we would just attempt to follow. IT WAS CRAZY.

At one point the undergrowth was SO thick I thought Right this is it, NO WAY can we follow, this MUST be where we turn back. But again, the guide thrashed through the plants and trees as it continued downhill and we sort of created this kind of jungle staircase slide. It was like Jungle Book the ride I swear. Phil and I had darted to the front of the group to try and get the best views of the gorilla before it moved on each time so we were scrambling and sliding down this leaf slide with tree logs crossing its path. IT WAS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING.

We ended up stood in the middle of this undergrowth, with the gorilla sat completely submerged in it on our right just munching away on the plants.

The group took photos and tried to catch their breath from the thrill of chasing a gorilla through the jungle and the whole adventure of the scramble. 
Then the gorilla moved on again, and we continued!

Steven said he could hear other gorillas coming to join so we should try and find the group together.

Phil and I decided to hold back to let others be at the front of the group and we continued downhill.

Suddenly we heard the gorillas screeching and shouting, if you can call it that, and we looked down to see some of the group running back. They were the ones in the group that you would expect to run, even if nothing was actually happening so we weren’t overly freaked out. But even so, rule number 1 if gorillas charge you is to stay still and NOT to turn your back and run so it was a risky move to make!

We reached the group and everyone was fine, the gorillas had just charged the guides but the guides knew now to respond. They constantly made a low growl noise like they were clearing their throats - fluent in gorilla chat. We’d missed all the drama but you could see everyone else had adrenaline pumping for sure. Apart from the guides who were completely calm and relaxed, finding it a little amusing to see the Muzungu’s panicking which was kinda funny.

We got to the bottom of the hill and climbed over a small stream before climbing uphill the other side.

I could not see how we would get back to our bags but didn’t massively care at this point.

After climbing up and scrambling through more plants and undergrowth, we finally stopped on a steep hill of plants and the SILVERBACK was sat next to us having his lunch. MENTAL.

There were 4 gorillas around us and somehow Phil was at the front of the group like he had a VIP ticket to the gorilla show. Well after the toilet incident and then the fart show, I think Phil felt right at home.

Steven then pointed out to the other side with the hill, where we had just come from, and two of the trackers and porters emerged from the trees with EVERYONES bags and walking sticks. God knows how they had carried it all to us but there are constant reminders here that people are SO strong and able despite having SO much less compared to us.

The gorillas eventually left, walking right past Phil, and we all took a big breath to try and compute what had just happened.

Thankfully there was an alternate route out of the jungle that the trackers could lead us to so we didn’t have to go back the way we’d come and we trekked out of the jungle, eventually stopping off for a sit down and packed lunch. Once out of the jungle, the same driver from the morning called Cedric collected us and he could see how happy we were - so he changed the music to his favourite band. 
Westlife.

Yep, we listed to I have a Dream by Westlife followed by My Love.

I can’t say I did not enjoy it and I may have also sung along.

Phil managed to constain his cringe suitably.

Back at Ruhija gate, we all ‘graduated’ and received a certificate LOL. This was their chance to reiterate the importance of their work and to encourage us to encourage others to visit Bwindi to ensure they can continue their important work. And to ensure they all had a job at the end of the day.

Then Cedric said it was no problem to take us back to the village, so we tipped him with a Boost bar ( I know, so generous) and 1000 ugandan shillings (that’s about 20p) and jumped back in for more Irish tunage.

Back at the hotel, Phil realised his hunger levels were getting serious so I decided to quickly wash my hair. He was thrilled. Then we agreed to head back to the Little Angel’s school while we were still in mucky clothes to check in on the poster update, as we’d promised to come back to see how much the photocopying quote was.

As we walked through the village, I spotted the tailor again and remembered that my button had come off - so I quickly popped in to get it fixed. Phil’s hunger levels had not improved so he stood outside counting to 100 and practising some mindful breathing techniques. He seemed perfectly fine, so I asked the tailor to reinforce the other button. Might as well I thought.

It started to rain which was a brilliant turn of events as I was the only one that had a raincoat with me.

We got to Little Angels and Happy the Director was not around but her colleague tried to phone her to get a cost for us, as we explained we needed to go soon due to Phil’s hunger (try telling a group of hungry orphans that your boyfriend needs to go because he’s hungry, not awkward at all). Eventually the woman told us that the cost for the photocopying was 170,000 USH which is about 50 dollars!!! We told her that was crazy expensive and to tell Happy not to go ahead with this cost and that we’d make multiples of the original poster ourselves!

So they gave us some blank paper and we walked back to the hotel, slightly dreading the evening ahead of recreating another 7 copies of the poster I had made, and then feeling guilty for dreading it in equal measure.

We bought an avocado and a beer on the way back (meal deal) and Phil nearly smiled so that was good. And once we were back, we turned our packed lunch sandwich (which was a tomato sandwich with about half a small tomatoes worth of slices) into an open tomato and avocado sandwich with chilli sauce, accompanied with an all-the-way-from-Tesco’s-Twickenham golden vegetable cuppa soup. When you’re that hungry, anything tastes amazing.

Phil’s happiness spiked right up and he told me about 17 times how amazing the view from our balcony was. The sips of Golden Nile beer may have helped too.

Before dinner, we sat in the restaurant and began the task of recreating the posters, Phil doing one section, me doing another. We were doing pretty well then the food arrived so we paused.

Halfway through dinner Phil suddenly looked over my shoulder and said ‘Someone’s here to see you’.

I turned around and Happy was sat in reception, with Pius and Arenas poking their heads round the corner. I went over to speak to her and she pulled out an envelope to show me 8 card copies of my poster, but the design had been recreated on like Clip Art 97! So it had obviously been too late to cancel the copying and they’d done this instead. We showed her our progress, half-hoping she would say that she didn’t need us to continue, but she was like ‘Oh yes these will be great too!’.

We gave her another donation to pay for the posters as she said it was about 20$ in total - which is definitely a crazy price for photocopying - but actually, someone had sat down and made a digital version of my design. It was heart warming and also a little funny to see the things that I’d flippantly drawn that they’d painstakingly recreated, like the detail on the roof or the sun shape. They were super sweet about it all and we spoke to our hotel who promised to put up a poster the next day when they had located some sellotape.

We negotiated a taxi price with an annoying guy for the next morning, as couldn’t face the only option of a 6am bus. He wanted 80$, ended up on 50$, but we were not quite sure how badly we were getting ripped off. Oh well, left it at that and went to bed.

[igumdroppoop]

oh my god guys i literally just finished writing this sub blog and then i refreshed the page by accident and it all disappeared i can’t SO HERE WE GO AGAIN.... 

happy march guys! i had a long month of february and a lot to tell and share with you guys. i’m pretty sure you guys noticed that i spent a lot of time with my friends during that month, specifically with aria/joyce/celine especially. it’s probably because i started playing games more that we started hanging out more, and it’s honestly really funny when we get together because it seems like four degenerate girls in a slice of life anime just exploring life together and messing around together and yeah LOL. here’s a picture of when we walked in the rain to get fried chicken and finally got it after a long and hard road battle...

other than celine/aria/joyce, i’ve been hanging out a lot with albert too! we’ve just been streaming together a lot and if you guys saw, we did a cooking stream together where we assigned eachother a recipe that we had to impromptu follow. i gave him pork roast from shokugeki no soma which he tried to recreate and here is the expectation VS reality: 

LOOOL. it was pretty funny and annie’s reaction to tasting it was the most wholesome thing ever. you guys probably don’t see much of annie because she’s so busy with school but she’s like my older sister who always cheers me up when i need it the most and i love her so much...she also literally takes care of my wounds (on thanksgiving i peeled some of my finger off and she wrapped it up for me and made me a homemade ice pack) 

janet’s surprise birthday party was also in february! i’m sure you guys have seen this picture already but just in case any of you haven’t~ 

it’s crazy because only a year ago, i remember shitting my pants going to the offline tv house to play mafia because i was so nervous if we would all get along or not. and only a year later i feel like all of us have been through so much together that we really trust and love eachother like a big family. 

anyways, now to the *real* part... i spent a lot of february not alone and in the company of my friends. and i was debating on not sharing this with you guys, but anybody who isn’t lazy enough to type in the password and read this subblog probably does care a lot about me so i want to share you guys to why february was a harder month for me. i fell into a deep dark hole of internet hate last month and even though it started with just a few mean youtube comments, i dug deeper and started reading mean reddit threads and hateful anonymous comments and even anonymous DMs. before last month i kinda always knew that this hate existed, i just never bothered to read them or put my attention onto them. idk how it happened but it did, and before i knew it i was in really dark place.

people would be calling me spoiled, ugly, not deserving to live, a fake bitch, telling me i should kill myself, and above all those trolls there were serious people too who were messaging me in their disappointment in me, along with just a lot of false assumptions about me...i always thought i had thick skin and that those things wouldn’t bother me which is why i never read them, but some days you’re more sensitive than others, and i guess it just hit me during the wrong time. this made extremely insecure, and at one point i even started to believe the things that people were saying about me and it made me hate myself even more. it was hard for me and it really made me feel like i was letting everybody down in my life when that wasn’t the case at all. 

after that i was super self-conscious about all my actions and whatever came out of my mouth. it was hard for me to stream because there are literally people who are watching my stream at ALL times just waiting to clip a moment that shows me being “violent”, “spoiled”, a “fake bitch”...i was kinda scared and it was super hard to sleep too

that’s why i spent a lot of time with my friends last month because they did really make me feel safe. since all my closest friends are in the public image as much as i am if not more, i really felt understood and secure being with them. and guys, honestly, that month was really hard for me but it made me so so so much stronger. i have really changed my perspective to know and believe that i really can’t please everyone, and i need to work to make ME happy and nobody else especially not a hater on the internet. it made me appreciate all the people who were always there for me (you guys, my friends, family) and i realized all the attention i give to negative haters should be given to all my loved ones instead. 

i also wanted to thank you guys, who always sent me such supportive messages and any of you who watched my stream whenever you could in your free time. guys, don’t get me wrong, the supportive messages always meant a lot to me, but after reading so many hate messages, seeing a sub just sending me a message of support in my chat just made my HEART SO FUCKING WARM!!! i fucking love you guys. AND I AM OVER ALL OF IT NOW!!!! AND I AM BACK STRONGER!!! HELL YEAAAA JAIME THICKER SKIN +10 POINTS IN LIFE BITCHES!!! what doesn’t kill u makes u stronger

ANYWHO!!! look what anna (nakoini) sent me!! SO CUTE!! 

okay honestly not gonna lie after i wrote all of that (twice) i’m pretty tired and have no idea what else to write in this entry... OH! here are my goals for this month: 

♡ workout consistently

♡ get better at league 

♡ incorporate more games onto my channel 

♡ spend more time with my community

with that being said, i’ll be bringing back anime/movie night! i was thinking of doing them on fridays at 5pm PDT. i’ll talk more about the time on stream, but yeah everyone always requests for them so let’s do that more. 

also wanted to tell you guys that because i’m going to be streaming league more, you’ll probably see a bit of a change in my community/chat... i don’t think it will be a bad change, but i checked my analytics and already just from streaming league of legends the past week, more of my viewers watch league more than they do just chatting.. isn’t that crazy? it’s only by 3% but still HAHA. 

and i’m aware that i’ll have a drop in viewership while i invest more times in games, but to be honest with you guys i couldn’t sustain a healthy balance for myself constantly doing IRL. and also league makes me have so much fun right now and it’s a game i seriously want to keep on playing! and don’t worry, i was never really one to care too much about viewership, as long as my chat is happy and i’m happy fun i still absolutely love streaming. if you told me a year ago i could have even more than 300 viewers playing league i’d be so happy HAHAHAHAH. but whose to say i won’t change my mind next month hehe, life is always kind of a search for balance. this month i’ll be spending a lot more time on my stream and community at the sacrifice of spending time with friends/family but that’s completely okay since i spent so much time last month rekindling those. <3 

and to get into the healthy habit of being proud of our achievements even if they are small, here’s my list for the month of feb! and feel free to share them with me while i’m streaming, i absolutely love hearing your guys’ little achievements even if they’re small. 

♡ i’m pretty sure if friendships had a grade, i got 100% A+ last month for all my friends <3 

♡ got through a rough month with an advantage after (a stronger mental and appreciation for my loved ones) 

♡ my uber rating went up to a 4.8 LMAO 

♡ learned four new cooking recipes 

ok.. as you can see my month was not very successful BUT.. i have my own personal list of things i am going to work on too! and from what i’ve learned from being in the public eye and having a magnifying glass on me: 

your life is YOUR life, and nobody is in the position to tell you what to do with it. you decide what you wanna do for yourself, and those who support and love you will support and love you, and those who don’t shouldn’t stop you from doing what you love or doing what makes you happy. 

[anothergirlrecovering]

Wedding weekend

I was in my college best friends wedding this weekend, and I'm honestly so glad for it. We literally had such a good time, and it was so good to be around people who make me laugh. Not just a regular laugh, but that deep belly laugh where you end up crying from laughing so hard. It was a long drive, a full 9 hours but somehow it didn't feel too bad of a drive. Weirdly enough, my husband and I didn't end up fighting at all. He slept for a good bit, and I listened to Waving through the window on repeat for a while. It's definitely my new favorite song, and I'm hoping i'll be able to see it live on broadway this summer.

When we got to our hotel, we checked in and headed to the rehearsal practice. There was literally one car in the parking lot, so I called sandi and asked what time it was. She told me it didn't start for another half hour and I immediately knew kit had lied because she thought I could be late. Thankfully I sort of just laughed it off and jokingly texted her saying I knew she lied and I was totally early. She called me laughing and said with such a big drive she just wanted to play it safe. She got there 15 minutes later, with a few of my old college friends, one being a girl named nastasha who I had hated in college. I was instantly bummed thinking about how awkward it would be, and feeling like my friends would ditch me for her, but I decided to try my best to be not awkward. We went inside, and sandi and I ended up sticking together since we were both in the bridal party. During that time we watched as my husband and her husand hung out with nastasha laughing and telling jokes. In the meanwhile sandi and I laughed on stage telling jokes and being shushed by kits future sister in law. I felt like a high school kid again, but I didn't exactly care because the part they were going over wasn't relevant to us. After the rehearsal we went to the rehearsal dinner and we ended up just laughing the majority of the time. They brought out the food family style, and I couldn't help but die of laughter when sandi said she hoped they bring out more choices in food. We laughed and talked about the time it looked like I shit myself but had fallen asleep in melted chocolate. And sandis husband told a story about a guy who yelled my bad queeda, which ended up being a phrase we continued to laugh about. When it was over I suggested we all go see the lake since I hadn't been. We walked around the sandy area and the rocks and laughed and took pictures. It was so nice just not caring about anything and being able to be happy. Ceselie and I had some time alone together and we ended up in a deeper conversation. She shared about how she has an issue with skin picking and has since undergrad. She asked if I remembered her diet pill and I laughed and said she must have been sensitive to my ed because she didn't tell me about it and she said the skin picking was triggered by that and never went away and shes seen several doctors and specialists but they cant figure it out and how to stop it. She said it makes her self conscious and when I asked about emdr and negative cognitions she laughed and said oh no don't make me dump all of my worthless negative beliefs out there. We laughed. Shes a therapist too and I told her about how making myself puke after the bachelorette party had given me anxiety because I hadn't vomited on purpose since being in recovery. We offered to drive her back to her hotel, thinking it was across the street but it was not. She put in no tolls and it ended up being a 45 minute drive, when it should have been 20 if we had just paid the toll, which we did on the way back because it was late and we were so tired and over driving.

The morning of the wedding we all went to the hair salon for our hair to be done. I didn't realize how many opportunities there would be to correct kits sisters shitty body shaming, and overall reminding everyone that its okay to enjoy all foods in moderation. We ordered chick fil a and enjoyed every minute of it because we were literally starving by the time we got to eat. Nastasha was sitting next to me and it was just the two of us, so I laughed and said hey do you remember that time we both hated each other in college and weren't friends? She laughed and said she was literally just thinking about that yesterday. I said I just wanted to say that I was sorry because I look back and realize that I wasn't always very nice and that I hadn't given her a chance and I have grown a lot since then. She thanked me and said she was sorry too and felt like we both hadn't given each other a chance, and she was thinking about how cool I am and was confused as to why we hated each other. I said I was immature and she was ditsy and for whatever reason we clashed. She laughed and said she is still ditsy, and we said we were both glad those days were behind us. Then we laughed about how weird our RA was, and how far we have both come. There was also a little girl who was maybe 9 or 10 and the hair stylist asked her how she wanted her hair. My heart melted when she said she wanted her hair just like her mommy. My heart broke when the mom rolled her eyes and said no, get something different. But melted again when the little girl said but I want to look just like you mommy. And broke again when the mom said ugh don't say that.

The wedding itself... So I took my propranolol and walked down the aisle at ease. Smiling like I'm supposed to. My scoliosis was killing me on stage, but I got through it. When it ended, sandi and I walked off stage together and we headed outside to blow bubbles. We all stood outside for a while waiting and talking and laughing and taking pictures. After blowing the bubbles, we went back in the church for a few pictures. I sat beside an adorable 6yr old macy, and asked her if it was ok to sit by her. She said yes and I made kid small talk, asking what her favorite part was. She said it was when she got to walk down the aisle, lol, and she told me that everyone was laughing. I asked if she thought the other girl might have made silly faces but she said no and laughed nervously. After taking a few pictures in the church we went on a party bus to go take pictures at a park. On the ride to the actual reception, I saw macy looking bored and she hopped up and sat beside me giggling. I could tell that she was bored and over it and had been ignored the entire time so I smiled her and asked if she wanted to play a game. I spent the 30 minute drive playing bubble gum bubble gum in a dish and a hand slapping game. We laughed together and I let her win a few times. She said we had to say kazam before slapping. I asked her how old she was and she said 6. I instantly got a bit sad looking at her, seeing how cute and innocent she was, and realizing that I was her age when my anxiety and panic attacks started happening. Sometimes its easy for me to brush off my young clients as different than me because they had such horribly different lives, but this little girl has no trauma history and was just simply a sweet little 6 year old. I had the half glass of champagne for the toast to kit and her husband, and avoided the whiskey because I knew we would be drinking wine at the wedding.

The reception... So I ended up way more drunk than I had meant to be. We got there and I was seated beside sandi. I said hi to my husband and took my seat. Everyone had a glass of wine with the best man and maid of honor speech. And then things began to get a little loopy. I remember complaining that we didn't have any potatoes at our table, and I remember sandi and charisse complaining that we were out of wine. Rachel, the sister in law who had shushed us at the rehearsal practice, got up and brought back wine and potatoes from the bride and grooms parents table, commenting on how our waitress sucks. I remember having another glass of wine, and that we talked about sex. I remember laughing and saying how I hate bjs and ran away after the last one to wash my mouth out with soap and that I almost tripped and my husband jokingly said run forrest run. They laughed and shushed me, and Rachel turned around laughing and saying she heard me and wont even put it in her mouth. Then we talked about what positions we liked and didn't like. And then I have no idea what exactly happened next, except that sandi and I must have kept drinking with charisse. I remember standing with them and laughing and taking some of sandis drink and some of my husbands drink. The rest of the night is a blur of random moments. I remember being on the dance floor and dancing, but I cant remember any specific songs. I cant remember any of the father daughter or mother son dance. I cant remember the cake cutting. I cant remember the garter toss or the bouquet toss. I remember at a point I walked to my husbands table and that the room was spinning. I remember sitting with my head on the table because I was too dizzy to lift it up. I remember that my a team was texting me in our group chat and that I was telling them I was drunk and sick and had a million typos. I remember overhearing someone say that sandi was in the bathroom puking, and I remember ceselie seeing me and asking if I had the spins. Ashlee texted and said that I needed to go throw up. I looked up and saw sandi standing across the table looking like shit, and so I knew the bathroom was clear for me to go puke. I remember hobbling to the bathroom and making myself puke a few times. I remember walking out and opening the door to ceselie there asking if I was okay. I said I didn't know and she put her arm around me and walked me back to the table. I cant actually remember anything that came next at the wedding. I don't remember saying goodbye to anyone. I remember being in the car and falling asleep right after. I honestly feel guilty and like a shit friend. I know that people are supposed to be happy and drink and dance at weddings, but I didn't mean to get trashed. My husband said he didn't realize just how drunk I was, and I don't remember the majority of the wedding. He said I didn't do anything embarrassing at least, but I just hate that I don't remember and I feel bad for it.