#loved doing this one. it has so much fucking swag. one of my favorite pieces (definitely in the top 5)

[uniquezombiedestiny]

Merry's right. She has no right to be trusted after that.

@anomaly-beans

[gemharvest]

Gf for the character thing ? :] or maybe Nene if you received her already

I HAVEN'T RECEIVED HER YET THANK YOU !!!!!!!!! I'll do Nene too, I'll just make it her own post after posting this. :J

favorite thing about them: I love her dumbgirl swag. There's something so special to me that both her and Boyfriend are fuckin'. Dumb As Rocks. ALSO I LOVE THAT SHE'S CANONICALLY AN ARTIST that's such a sweet thing to me. I would pay one morbillion dollars for a GF commission (because she has no idea how they work).

least favorite thing about them: I WANT HER TO DO MOREEEEHGNJFN.. Like she's probably done as much as BF has so that's not a critique of the game, I just wanna see her do more. Because I love women. Oh also I think they should remake every canon piece depicting her and make her canonically fat. I often forget she isn't fat in canon and then I feel sickly when I look at like, the volume 1 cover and she's thin. W-Whe';re h.er tumm-.my go..,m,l,l,...,, <- sorry for crytyping but it fits.

favorite line: That's how you do it! <- I was gonna jokingly just go up down left right but then I remembered she says that in the tutorial. And I quote it to myself all the time so.

brOTP: Y'know what, similar to BF, I think a GF & Darnell friendship would be fuckin' s-tier. I often think abt this post Keyy made tbh. I know that's specifically the Funkycule AU and pup has them in a QPR but I do think abt it often. Also, before I was a romantic PicoGF guy my interpretation of RGB had Pico & GF as just friends, probably closer friends the longer they're in their relationships with BF cuz like, bonding over a shared partner or smthn LMAO so I'll give an honorable mention to Pico & GF friendship.

OTP: WOag. RGB. Wow I've never heard of that before. How many times can I joke about RGB being my OT3 for this game before it gets annoying LMAO anyways. I ALSO REALLY LOVE GFNENE I wish they had more fics. So bad. I'm actually shocked by how bare their tag on AO3 is. They weren't lying, fandom does hate femslash. /hj

nOTP: Is there anyone out there who actually ships her with Senpai. I think that'd be my only answer ALSO YOU KNOW WHAT. I chickened out on saying it with BF but I also consider BF and Senpai a nOTP but like, I DON'T HATE ANYBODY WHO SHIPS IT. OF COURSE. I don't think it's "problematic" to ship Senpai with either of them it's just, like, the most thought I have on Senpai is that I want to kick sand into his eyes. So that feeling doesn't really translate into a desire to see him shipped with anyone. I'm sorry to anybody who ships Senpai with either of them, I respect your grind, it is just sooooo not for me.

random headcanon: This headcanon is like, so deep into my personal GF characterization/ fuckin'. AU. If you wanna call it that atp. BUT ANYWAYS. Fuck this is gonna need quick background hold on. The canon explanation for her looking human iirc is literally just "true love" or whatever tf. But that's not as fun to play with. So instead I like to write her as being ashamed of being a demon, especially because of her parents' actions, so she masks her demon traits. And she reaaaalllly does not like letting them slip through, especially around a specific person (this is foreshadowing for something idek if I'll get to any time soon Sorry). BUT! She is on a limit for how long she can hide her demon traits until doing so starts to hurt her, either through draining her energy or like, it causing physical damage to continue hiding parts of her. And while she trusts Pico & BF, she's still got shit that she's just. Not. Sorting out. So when she feels she's about to reach a limit with it she locks herself away to rest until she's well enough to continue like normal. Girlie No (guy who is writing her to do this) (don't worry I'm going to also write her getting better abt this) I'm gonna eventually have to make a "Karl's Personal FNF Demon World Building" master-post or whatever just cuz this shit is so fun for me to work with Idk.

unpopular opinion: GEH once again idrk if this is an unpopular opinion but I've been using this to just. Complain. About stuff I have seen and disagree with so whatever I'm continuing the trend. Like Pico, I feel like I see. So many. Interpretations of her that just feel Wrong. Like I see people make her The Smart One or like. Dominant Girlboss with little substance beyond that. And it's like. Cool, yay, I love fandom misogyny. FUCK it's probably still rotting in my drafts but forever and always my reaction to this phenomenon with her is "This girl gets her hand stuck in peanut butter jars trying to eat pb with her hands. This is your Smart One?" and I should get it out of my drafts bc I'm real for that. DO NOT MISUNDERSTAND ME WHEN I SAY THIS BTW. Interpretations that smarten up BF to the same degree do not flag this to me. When making more serious fanworks with these guys, you're gonna have to give them more smarts than canon will. My issue is specifically when I have seen people still write in a degree of stupidity with BF and then just. Don't? Do the same with GF?

song i associate with them: Very basic but I think the sound is cute with her. My secondary answer would be Nelward - "Werewolf" but that's more of a. Specific Instance. That I don't want to elaborate on. grins

favorite picture of them:

Like literally all of them The Fuck you're making me choose? /silly Here's the fruits of me looking through her wiki gallery:

^ If I had to pick a single favorite, it'd be those panels from the Nendoroid comic. She was real for that. Anyways FUCK I love her. Statements improved when you remember I'm Boyfkin LMAOOOOOO..

[elysianslove]

i would like you to consider cockwarming sukuna on his throne

i am considering. i am very much considering. 

let’s go back to you being his favorite girl in his little cult thing. 

this. this turned out so long. is this even a drabble anymore. 

he has you on display as always by his side, in some dress that doesn’t even count as a dress, just some cloth draped mercifully over your intimate parts, and it’s kind of transparent too. but today, today for some reason, he wanted you on his lap. you don’t understand, as you don’t most of the things he requests and asks of you, but like the obedient girl you are, you sit. you sit on his right thigh, twisting slightly so that you can face forward, with his arm coming around to squeeze at your bare waist. 

and it goes on like that for a while, a few weeks. every day you walk into his throne room, and every day he pats at his thighs, and every day you sit yourself where he wants you to. 

until one day, he asks something different. spectacularly different. with a few spectators, he dares to ask, “sit on my cock,” with inexplicable confidence.

it’s not the first time he’s requested something like this of you, and it wouldn’t be the first time you’d agreed. somewhere in between the gray lines of his morality, he finds it in him to hear your yes first, even if it’s as hesitant as ever. and who wouldn’t be? hesitant, that is. he’s no human, neither does he fuck like one, and his cock, for every night you’ve lain within his chambers, it splits you open, and every time he sinks into you, it feels as if you’re a virgin once more. but you’re not alone with him. you’ve let him do whatever he pleases, let him do whatever he desires, but alone, privately. 

but— 

daringly, your small voice asks, “n-now?”

he grins down at you from the height of his throne, teasingly glaring as he retorts, “do you have somewhere else to be?” 

although you want to do otherwise, you slowly shake your head, already approaching him. he nods, pleased and amused and satisfied, outstretching a hand for you as you climb up to him. your hand settles in his larger, warmer one, just as his other hovers by the skin that the dress reveals. “my little plaything,” he muses, a finger dancing along your waist, dipping at your hip. 

at his touch, you shiver. you try to withhold it, but he notices all too soon. 

“you’re scared?” he wonders, looking up at you. 

despite the fact that you’re the one looking down at him, he seems still so much larger than you. you bite back a whimper. you trust him. you trust him. you trust him. and you do, against all odds. in spite of everything, you really do trust him. it hadn’t always been like this, where barely any hate dwelled in your heart for him, but nights upon nights upon nights passed, and you began to understand that the same way people were made for certain things, like to be warriors who fight for their land and people, you were made to warm his bed and ease his suffering, to shoulder his burdens and responsibilities. it seems taxing, seems bothersome, seems sad. but it isn’t. not when he has the most beautiful of dresses sent to your chambers, woven from the finest silk from across the globe, and not when he keeps your belly full and hunger sated, and not when he treats at your wounds and eases your illnesses, and not when he wipes at your tears and kisses at your shoulder blades, no matter if it’s in the privacy of four walls. 

and it doesn’t matter where you’d started, where you’d begun. only where you are now. 

with every promise he’s made you kept in mind, you steel yourself, and shake your head. he grins again, lifting up the hand that’s intertwined with yours. “of course you aren’t,” he says, and he’s not mocking you. he’s proud. 

the hand in yours lifts up higher until he’s urging you to twirl around, and at the insinuation, you pause. “everyone will see,” you quietly warn, voice cracking. 

he doesn’t let you falter in your step as he pushes you on his lap, just like every other day, except you feel it, his cock, hard and hot and stiff at your lower back, bulging through his kimono. “i know,” he replies. his legs spread, widening, and you nearly fall had it not been for his grip on your waist. “i want them to.” 

you shiver again, but you don’t attempt to hide it this time, not when you can hear the squelch of his hand stroking at his cock, slow and languid, and not when he pushes aside the dress, easily revealing your ass to him. the dress had essentially been a piece of cloth draped over each shoulder, resting over your breasts before sinking between your legs, while it hangs loosely all along your back, hooked at your waist with a simple string, with your sides are completely revealed. had he been planning this the whole time, then, from the moment he’d had you dressed in this? 

his fingers dip to your cunt, spreading your folds and teasing at your clit. at the stimulation, your hands rush to grasp the throne’s arms tightly. the crowd beneath you slowly starts to vanish when he urges you up, when he brings the fat head of his cock to your hole, when he sits you down, fills you up to the brim inch by inch until you positively feel him in your throat, your thighs flush against his. all the scowling faces of jealous girls and the disappointed faces of men and women alike, all the villagers that call you a whore and all the men that whistle at the sight, disappear, and it’s as if you really are alone with him. 

you trust him. 

the hand on your waist presses you back and you fall, sighing delightfully as you rest against him, back pressed to his chest, head lolling on his shoulder. sukuna’s unmoving, not thrusting up into you or forcing your hips to roll and grind against his. his cock twitches inside of you, begging for attention, and you squeeze and clench down on him, just the way you’ve learnt he loves, and still, he doesn’t make a move to fuck you. 

you’re breathless, somehow you are, and you hiccup lightly before you whine, “s-sukuna.”

soothingly, he shushes you. “spread your legs,” he commands, softly, and you do. you obey, pushing your legs open, letting either leg hang over either of his thighs, loosely and helplessly. the dress falls to between your legs, concealing you modestly. he hums in appraisal, arms twisting to wrap tightly around you. you’re already so delirious, mind hazing over as you twist your neck to bury your face against neck. his arms, large as ever, hold you close to him, and still, all you do is sit on his cock. yet, you don’t have it in you to complain, because this is somehow just as satisfying as ever he’s ever done to your body. 

“sukuna,” you moan again, but you’re not asking anything of him. 

“perfect,” he whispers, craning his head lower to kiss at where your neck meets your shoulder. “so obedient.” you moan again, unintentionally grinding down against him. “i can feel the rage of those girls beneath, wishing it was their cunt swallowing my cock whole.” at his words, you whine, in annoyance, in anger. “yeah,” he quietly agrees. “never a cunt like yours, my sweet thing.” your body’s impossibly heating up, and you’re doing your all not to writhe in his grasp, opting for futile squirming. he can tell, because of course he can, and he shushes you again. 

“stay still for me, darling,” he urges you, and you huff, sinking into his hold. “and i promise i’ll fuck you the very way you love tonight.” 

he waits for you to nod, and once you breathlessly, mindlessly, do, he grins again, shifting in his seat until he sits high again, leaving one arm around you and keeping you pressed to him as he leans his elbow on the opposite arm of the throne, resting his chin in his palm. and then, he briefly nods at a man kneeling beneath his throne, and says, “now, back to this.” 

swag lip bite emoji 

[avidoro]

Holy crap. Finally home safe and sound and I am so ecstatic! First time flying. First time in New York City. First time seeing Beetlejuice the Musical and I loved every flipping moment of it! We had front row seats on September 30th. My friends managed to slap me dead ass center and it was absolutely amazing. I couldn’t be happier having Alex standing literally a foot away from me. He truly is a living cartoon character as I’ve always said and seeing him so close just proves it. He’s has so much expression and his mannerisms are great! I’m not sure what all changes have been noted but a few of the things that got me: He yelled “WAASSUUUUUUUUP!” when he popped out from behind the couch. Gently sticking his finger in Adam’s pocket and swirling it around when he said, “you make daddy so angry”. “Adam, what the shit is wrong with you?”

During his exit he sang “Jason Derulo” and during the second show we saw he yelled “FUCK BRIGADOON!” We had eight people in our front row group and our friend, Marq, was Alex’s target for the evening. We did not forewarn him about this and it was amazing seeing Marq’s reaction. He and his girlfriend absolutely enjoyed it and it was a great birthday gift to her. Marq got a kiss blown to him by Alex at curtain call. Something I’m quite envious of. Marq made sure to blow one back which appeared to make Alex very happy 😆 My friend, Gou, nearly got pelted by the cup that Alex threw which took her off guard, but she wishes it would have landed in front of her. During curtain call I pulled my phone out to record. Elizabeth saw me recording and pointed at me twice while she did her dance at the end! She’s too precious and I absolutely love her! My best friend’s husband, who hates musicals and was not keen on the idea of visiting NYC, only agreed to go see Beetlejuice the Musical because the movie is one of his absolute favorites. He went in expecting disappointment but left laughing and saying he absolutely wants to see it again but only front row. He also absolute adored Alex. In my book this is a total SUCKS YES! We saw the show again on the 2nd. Act 1 was full of goofups but I love seeing goofs in live shows! Almost lost the handbook to the trap door and Alex just stared at it for a minute. It was hanging on by a thread. The squeaky sound effect when Betelgeuse gooses Adam didn’t go off. The suicide note didn’t ignite. Delia’s dress didn’t attach to the pig so her dress never unraveled. Gou told me, during Act 2, the sound effect for Adam knocking on the door at the end of the show didn’t match up to David’s motion. Alex also blessed the audience with a very loud “WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” at the end of That Beautiful Sound that had the audience responding similarly 😂 The free swag for Sunday was a slap bracelet lol I didn’t get an October Playbill which made me sad. THEY HAVE SANDWORM PLUSHES NOW!! I also got to go see Curtain Up very close to the front and hear Alex and Elizabeth perform Say My Name. They did a brief interview as well. Alex was a goof, as always, and Elizabeth was just adorable! I took more time, the second show, to really look at the mural. I was dragged back to my own piece by Gou and my best friend’s aunt because they saw someone taking photos of my artwork. They insisted on telling them I was the artist and we had a brief discussion about it. It made me happy hearing that they loved my piece enough to take a photo to send to a friend! I was then asked to take a photo of a family in front of the mural only for my best friend’s aunt to insist they sit in front of my piece. I hate bringing attention to myself but they were so confused as to why she was making them move that I had to explain to them why she was doing it and I apologized. But instead the insisted that I not take their photo but instead get in the photo with them and it was really sweet! I don’t know what else to say except this has been amazing and I’m so happy I got to see it before the show closes in January. I wish I could see it one last time but I will forever cherish what I got.

[minkieater]

chika i fear this is the best day of my life thank you SO much for your words i enjoyed reading this far too much!!!!

lets get into it‼️

gonna refer to reader as nana bc i love that comparison so bad when i started writing about the reader nana definitely came to mind, there were so many little things that just gave nana osaki. i had to add in yasu just because of that feeling, i am so happy you pointed that out!!

first of all… CLOTHO!!!! the tie-in of mythological creatures… hongjoong referring to nana as a siren, a succubus, a phantom… he isn’t wrong but nana is in fact a real human! just so unbelievably swag he cant believe shawty's real LMFAOOO

the club they met at is also fictional, moirai, another name for the three fates! this is my favorite tie-in i think of this whole piece, i love the symbolism behind it. fate has such a hold on him and his beliefs and then here comes nana confirming them and debunking them at the same time

chika you consumed this piece exactly how it was meant to be! the feeling you were left with i also share, but i find so much excitement in knowing that there is more to their story, more questions to be answered, and more things to happen in a universe all of these people don’t realize they share.

there are a few little anime related things in here i literally couldn’t help myself between nana, the green haired drummer being roronoa zoro, and my favorite one you hit right on the mark with aot! i was hoping the first three walls would explain the other three… i wasn’t expecting anyone to actually go into detail about their meanings but i am so happy you did because honestly i didn’t even think about it this hard but now i want to!!

it’s interesting how the last ‘walls’ he compares himself to are ones that have fallen and this is the first time in his life that he’s ever felt his own walls come down around someone else in the way he did with nana, even more interesting that the purpose of the comparison were to reference himself putting them back up. i was comparing him to symbols of strength as much as i was just comparing him to famous walls (lol) because that was the start of him building up his own strength back, strength he thought he lost in that too quick 5 minutes of thought outside the label.

what i literally cant get over is how he wouldn’t of had to tweak out if he just talked to her. but i feel like its so him to feel all of these things and not know what the hell to do with them so instead he just pushes them all away, giving himself a fresh start while also regressing back to a past version of himself out of hurt.

im cracking the fuck up at the memes they're so true and i love everything you added to your journal i'm honored that my words live somewhere else than just on this app, genuinely. thank you sooo much for this take on city boy joongie, he is my heart and soul fr i could talk about him for hours. thank you for making my heart very full!!!

three fates ⟶ khj ⋆ ★

p. kim hongjoong x f!reader w. lots of drug use, and i mean a lot, so please if u don't like drugs don't read this !! 18+ there's smut too, minors dni PLS addiction, consumption, sex while intoxicated, age gap (18 and 22/21 and 24) lemme know if i missed anything!! wc. 13.6k <3

she's finally here <3 my baby!! i am in love with this, this is my favorite thing i've written, city boy joongie is my heart and soul. takes place in the same world as luck & carousel, but none of the characters we've met so far are here !!

♫ — one of these nights, the eagles “i’ve been searching for the daughter of the devil himself i’ve been looking for an angel in white i’ve been waiting for a woman who’s a little of both i can feel her but she's nowhere in sight”

hongjoong is an artist, a creator. everything he’s ever seen, touched, smelled or heard, every little thing he’s ever come in contact with could and has been used in his art in one way or another. he couldn’t help himself, he saw the beauty in everything, from the gloaming atop the horizon of the hudson river on the third day of his bender to the massive rats playing tag in the subway station in downtown brooklyn. 

his clothes, his jewelry, his music, his apartment, his friends… everything and everyone is gorgeous, it has to be that way. the well of his creativity never runs dry, not living in this city, not with the life he’s created for himself. 

coming from a small brownstone in brooklyn, he lived with his parents and younger sister, a quiet girl that was nothing like him. he was always the rambunctious older brother, could never keep his grades up, couldn’t go a week in school without getting in trouble. she, the scholar, was his parents’ shining star, as well as his own. he hoped she wouldn’t be anything like him, anything like their father. 

he’d never compared himself to her, he knew he was just wired differently, a chemical concoction in his head that made him who he was and he loved it. he couldn’t picture his life, himself, any differently. he could never stay focused on one thing, always moving to the next project, always bouncing from opportunity to opportunity. 

when he got into high school reality set in of where he lived, who he surrounded himself with, what exactly was accessible to him at all times. from alcohol to drugs to shows to backstages to underground raves, hongjoong learned very quickly the different paths he could take, the routes his life could go in. 

he was a junkie, a junkie for adrenaline, for excitement, for anything this godforsaken city had to offer him. so he experimented. 

his friends were just like him — loud, outspoken, covered in piercings and tattoos, much too young to have gotten them done professionally. they looked for nothing but a good time, they didn’t care about school, didn’t care about their futures, they cared about a sick guitar riff and how much their dealers were charging for an ounce of weed. 

like his father, they introduced hongjoong to good music. growing up he listened to all his father’s favorite bands, from alice in chains to black sabbath to pearl jam, it set a tone for his future, laid the grounds for what the following decade of his life would look like. he spent weeknights, weekends, every night he wasn’t watching his younger sister he’d be at a different show in the city. no name bands, ones that were trying to get a foot in the door to the music industry to DJ sets at underground raves, blinding shows with flashing lights and a thumping bass he’d end up rolling at every damn time. 

hongjoong’s friends introduced him to many, many things, but his favorite would have to be cocaine. feeling on top of the world, like he can accomplish anything and everything, hongjoong adored the white powder he often sniffed with a crisp dollar bill. his personality alone was akin to it, he bounced off the walls all by himself, but during a night of drinking the main thing that kept him going, pushing through until sunrise was the bag full of blow in his back pocket. 

it got him through high school, it made him pay attention, it made him ask too many questions in class. it gave him confidence, he felt like the most attractive person in the world, like he was at the top of the food chain. it made him optimistic toward his future, he knew he’d become successful no matter what he did whenever he was at the peak of his high. 

what he despised about blow was the come down. from feeling untouchable to drained of everything he was worth in about all of forty five minutes, that he couldn’t stand. the one solution, the only solution that every single one of his friends had given him: “joong, you just need to do another line.” 

so he did, he always did more, but one thing about cocaine is that you never feel as good as that first line, the one that makes you untouchable, unstoppable, unkillable. he never thought he’d feel that again, that beautiful, unique euphoria, until he was a freshman in college, at a grimey city nightclub’s show of your band’s debut. 

he watched you in awe, blown pupils taking in every last detail of you strumming your guitar. how your fingers moved from string to string, black painted fingertips going white from the pressure. how your hair flowed in the air as your head banged to the drums, how your red lips stained the microphone when you sang into it. he grew up listening to music, he spent years listening to great bands and really terrible ones, by now he knew the difference. 

he knew then and there what field his career would lay in. dirt caked the floor he stood on, posters and receipts and papers of the sort covered the walls, the disgusting nightclub he now owed everything to offered him two things, you and the chance to make something of himself. 

he knew your band was special, knew you had the raw talent to make it big. he wanted to see it, he could picture it now, your faces stretched across a billboard in times square. it was exciting, this feeling that flushed through him, knowing he was watching celebrities perform before they had their break, their break that would come soon if they just had someone to sign them. 

he did everything in his power to wait diligently for your set to be over, already knowing that he and his friends would make it backstage, a routine for them every time they came to these shows. his head nodded along to the music, a can of beer in his hand, his hair tickling the back of his neck every time the main singer hit a note he himself couldn’t. 

when your band finally made their last bow, thanking the crowd for their attendance and cheers, hongjoong felt the adrenaline in his fingertips. he was so, so close to meeting you, telling your band what he thought, buying you a drink. so close to taking you back to his dorm, untying your skimpy black bikini top, learning your tattoos to memory. 

he usually went for the drummer — that he knew by now. after a few lines and a six pack he would ache to be bent over, or be the one bending someone over, that didn’t matter to him. what did matter was that he wanted a good fuck, he planned on it, he craved it, from trial and error his eyes always landed back on the drummer. it hasn’t failed him yet. 

he wasn’t sure what made you different, why you caught his eye on the small stage, what stopped him from eyeing up the green haired drummer he couldn’t place. you were magnetic, with your bulky boots, revealing clothes, intriguing tattoos and piercings all up your ears. he wanted to smear the lipstick you wore down your chin, wanted to see it all over himself, prints of crimson running down his torso. he shivered, desire crawling up his spine when he pictured it, it was too easy, your stage presence was like no other.

when he got backstage and first saw you sitting on the torn up couch, handheld mirror in your grasp with three perfectly parallel lines laid across the glass, the confirmation was instant. you had a debit card on your lap, a rolled up dollar bill, sunglasses and that very lipstick he was fantasizing about laid across your thigh. a smile broke out across his face, one wicked and knowing, one that told everyone in the room hongjoong had found his game for the night. 

you looked up to him from the amber colored couch, patches of questionable browns and grays mimicking a pattern across the rough material. your pupils were blown, huge and empty, matching the ones that stared back into them. the room backstage was small, a space he deemed claustrophobic, much too boxy for the amount of people occupying it. a mirror, a clothing rack and a couch, not much for a band to prepare for a show. he was impressed to say the least that a band of your aptitude had put on such a good performance in these conditions. 

his friends went around the room in commendation, giving each member their own praise, complimenting the band as a whole. hongjoong was excited to do the same when he was in the crowd, but being back here with the adrenaline from the show being thick in the room, a voice told him to stay quiet, something that was close to impossible for him. 

“you,” you began, and hongjoong’s neck snapped to you, greeted with a finger pointed directly at himself, “where did you get your jeans?” 

“diesel,” he looked down to the ripped denim hugging his skinny legs, “vintage, i thrifted them from the shop on sackett.” 

he watched as the eyes he couldn’t see the color of glanced up and down his figure, taking in every detail of his outfit, his body. you glanced back down to the mirror in your palm then back up to him, “you want a line?” 

hongjoong’s feet were moving before he nodded yes. he sat down next to you on the decrepit couch, seated on the cushion in the middle. your hand moved under his chin and he could see his reflection in the glass below the lines, rich chocolate blending in with pupils, too wide to be able to tell where they started or ended. 

he took the dollar from your raw, discolored fingers and sniffed, taking the line closest to you on the end. he was wide awake then, energy flooding his veins like he’d just slept for fourteen hours and drank three cups of coffee. his smile returned as he glanced at you, watched you do the same, took in every detail.

your hair, tucked behind your ears, laid in front of your shoulders far past the string of your bikini top. your lips were in a tight line, a streak of blood red below your nose, which had the rolled up bill just beneath the surface of your right nostril. he watched you sniff once, twice, both lines disappearing from the glass in your palm, your head tilting back with an additional sniff and a knuckle to your cupid's bow. 

he watched in awe, a sparkle in his empty pupils, a flare in the sea of vast darkness. his dick twitched in his pants as he lost himself in the moment, his fogged up yet crystal clear head morphed you into some kind of seductress, a succubus, he had no chance of getting out of whatever spell you put him under, not that he needed one. all he could do, all he wanted to do is succumb. 

succumb he did when you pressed him against the front door of your apartment, grabbed him by the throat and took him for everything he was worth. you were nonstop from that moment on the couch all the way to your apartment in queens, hands exploring and lips touching, tasting, giving, taking, there was no moment of question. no time to waste, not a fact to be shared, just a carnal desire that poured out of himself and into you, into your veins, into the blood that shared a color with your lipstick smeared onto hongjoong’s jaw. 

he smirked knowing he got what he wanted, knowing he always gets what he wants, he was just that kind of person. shrouded in luck, like he had a guardian angel who refused to leave his side. from where he’s been to what he’s done, there was no way he should be alive, the chances of survival for a guy like him are slim to none. 

the first time was in the bathroom of that club, where he pushed you into a stall and bent you over the toilet, your hands gripping onto a wall that you were sure had never been cleaned. markings of sharpie covered every inch, lewd and crude sayings, initials in hearts, phone numbers of random people who wronged the person that wrote it. you took every inch of him proudly, lifted your leg onto the toilet seat, ushering him to hit deeper, to empty himself inside you. 

you left that bathroom in heavy breaths and lust darkened eyes, only for the two of you to last one more drink and another key bump before you were below the ground, on the subway to your apartment.

you didn’t get any farther than the entryway where you grabbed him by the throat, ushering for him to give into you, a power he didn’t just give away to anyone. he chuckled darkly and switched your bodies quickly, pressing your face against the art covered wall instead of the front door, smacking your ass with a force that made you cry out. he knew what you were, he could see it when you were onstage, nothing but a pain slut that let him fuck you in one of the dirtiest bathrooms he’s ever seen. 

a low laugh left his lungs when he felt your core, fingers slipping through your release and his own cum that you’d been saving for later. he was immediately on his knees, eating it out of you, tasting the two of you mixed into one. the second time was in that very entryway, where he took you against the wall once more, this time with a low dim light peeking through the windows and a clear scent of fresh laundry and vanilla floating through the space. much cleaner, much sweeter, the opposite of what the two of you had endured just an hour earlier.

he ended the night in your bed, where he took you for a third, fourth and fifth, neither of you sleeping a wink. with the sunrise coming in through your half open window, sounds of sirens and cars passed by, drifting through the translucent rose colored curtains making them ruffle and bend to the noise. you had a cigarette between your lips, a tray with four more parallel lines sitting at the foot of the bed. you were naked, your tattoos your only blanket, hongjoong the same beside you. 

“can’t believe you’re a fucking freshman in college,” you laughed through the smoke leaving your lips, a saccharine sound mixed with the smell of tobacco and menthol, “please tell me you’ve at least turned nineteen.”

hongjoong nodded, letting his fingers continue to trail your thigh, tracing the outline of the dragon that was soaring through the skin of your hip, “i’ll be twenty in november.” 

a lie, one he knew would be believed, one that allowed you to sigh out in relief. he’d slept with much older, your measly twenty two was nothing to him, just another thursday night after a show, another experience to add to his arsenal. 

“you said you go to NYU right? what’s an NYU student doing in brooklyn?” hongjoong smiled at that, he loved when people knew absolutely nothing about it him, made assumptions based on one thing they’d heard. he could make up anything he wanted, he could be whoever he wanted to be, not that you’d ever find out the truth. you’d never hear from him again after he stepped foot onto the sidewalk outside, back to his dorm, back to his roommate who would be waiting to ask him a million questions about his excursion. 

tonight he was hongjoong, the nineteen year old that’d fucked you five different times in nine different ways, snorted countless lines of blow and hungout with a band he knew would make it. he wasn’t eighteen year old student hongjoong who was going to NYU because his parents were pushing him into accomplishing something, anything, trying relentlessly to get him out of the city’s gutter. 

“to be fair, we’re in queens,” he cracked a smile, the corner of his lips lifting, “i grew up in bushwick, i come whenever i can. got lots of friends that still live around here.”

he didn’t know why he was being honest, this was his favorite part. maybe a small part of him was tired of lying, even if he’d done it already, he was ready for truth, ready for it to be laid bare for him, ready for it to point him in yet another direction. he didn’t care which direction it would send him in from your dingy apartment in queens, he just hoped it was upward, to something better than what he came from. 

“why aren’t you guys signed yet?” there it was, the question that’s been clawing at him all night, sat fresh on his mind even when he was buried inside of you. the one truth he wanted to know, not your name that he already couldn’t remember, your age that’d already become irrelevant, or your address that he’d never even learned.

you sighed again, running a hand through your hair, collapsing into the plush pillows beneath you, “a few agencies have tried, none have been worth it. contracts are too strict, we won’t get paid enough, the companies aren’t popular enough. yasu handles all of that, i’m just told what we do or what we don’t do.”

“so if the right label approached you, one with money and connections and a contract that was perfect, you’d sign with them?” hongjoong asked, letting his eyes flutter shut, not that he felt tired. he’d need at least twenty milligrams of valium for that and even then it probably wouldn’t lure him to sleep, just enough to take the edge off, to let his head lie still.

you laughed, a bitter chuckle, “like who? republic fucking records? we’re performing in run down clubs across the city, we have miles to go before an agency worth anything takes an interest in us.”

hongjoong smiled through his eyes that stayed closed, that same smile he wore last night, the one that was both wicked and knowing. he could see it in front of him, an idea, a dream, a career. if he didn’t feel like shit he’d call up his parents and thank them for sending him to NYU, thank them for the opportunity to do something right with his life. his roommate would get a kick out of this. 

he sat up on the bed and leaned forward, pulling the silver platter on his lap. he picked up the dollar bill that was slowly losing its shape with every sniff and lifted it to his nose, railing two lines from the tray. he tilted his head back and shook it, giving one last sniff before he was off. 

“i have class,” he said as he searched for his pants around your cluttered bedroom before remembering he’d undressed in the entryway. you sat up with wide eyes, blinking at his sudden departure after a night of wild sex and snorting all of your coke. 

“wait,” you called after him as he nearly ran through the bedroom door, “i want to give you my number, call me if you ever want to come see our show again, or if you want to do this again.”

he smiled from the open door in which the frame towered over him, shooting you a finger that said wait before he went in search of his clothes, phone, and wallet. he returned and saved your number in his phone, leaving the contact name as tattoo girl. in the moment it’d seemed easiest to remember you by. 

he never ended up calling you, never ended up seeing another show that you mentioned. he went back to his dorm, to his life, and changed his major with a speed he hadn’t experienced before, despite his whole life being quick. he ate quick, he thought quick, he grew up quick, he learned quick, he did everything at such a rate he’d never experienced whiplash. this was normal.  

music technology classes were not easy, but he thought himself lucky for the brain he was born with, his ability to adapt. for once in his life hongjoong wasn’t just good at school, he was excelling. 

the connections he formed, his ever growing ability to network himself, show off his extensive knowledge of music itself, its history, the music scene in the city. never in his life had he thought he was born for something, never thought he had a purpose, just thought of himself as an open minded creative person who loved a good time. as he got deeper into his major which he thankfully didn’t change again, he realized there was one thing that remained constant all throughout his life, one thing that stayed with him through every phase, got him through every hump in the road. 

when he came home that morning with pupils swallowing his eye color whole and lungs that had no breath left in them, he told his roommate he was changing his major and mingi was relieved. he was relieved and grateful, smiling because the first friend he made at NYU was going to be beside him for more than just sleepless nights across the dorm, letting out a sigh he kept trapped in his lungs because now could keep a better eye on hongjoong. the night before he was worried out of his mind, even if he knew hongjoong was born and raised in the city, mingi was raised in south korea. 

mingi was told since he first started mentioning new york city to his friends and family to be careful, he had all of the horror stories told to him in depth, used as a weapon to scare him out of coming to the states. he never thought twice about it until he got here, stood face to face with hongjoong, and learned every dirty secret he had to offer. then he believed the horror stories, he believed that the city’s wretched dark side could really kill someone dead, even hongjoong who had become a good friend to him. 

that fear was short lived, it was cut short the moment hongjoong took him to his first show in brooklyn. hongjoong could see the excitement in his eyes, that same adrenaline rush hongjoong considered himself addicted to as he watched mingi snort his first line of blow. he felt prideful, like he’d taken mingi under his wing and rebirthed him into a weapon the city couldn’t touch, couldn’t harm. he offered mingi the city’s beauty, the bright lights of the buildings at night, the pleasure of a woman he’d just met mere minutes ago. 

the two of them became a pair, and hongjoong had grown to love the friendship, love the closeness that came with it. he wasn’t used to sharing so much time with one other person, he kept to himself if he wasn’t with his group of friends, even when he still lived at home he didn’t see the need for having one person to put all of his trust into. 

mingi taught him a lot of things, the first being how to keep his head on straight and screw it tight. he kept hongjoong grounded, kept him centered around his music, kept him looking forward and never backward. he kept hongjoong flowing, retelling stories of nights they’d gone out together when hongjoong was feeling himself hit a creative block. mingi pulled hongjoong out of his hole when he’d snorted one too many lines, he’d put him in the shower, force feed him valium like it was candy. 

it wasn’t until hongjoong was sat on a wooden stool in the soundproof booth of his school’s recording studio two years later that he’d be reminded of you again. strumming along to into the void by black sabbath, a song he loved since he was young, getting frustrated when his fingers slipped up around the bridge, they always slipped up at the bridge — the chords were so close together, it was ironic that something which took speed would trip him up. 

“joong!” mingi called from outside of the booth, turning the microphone on, ripping hongjoong from his frustrations. “i got accepted! you need to check your email now.”

hongjoong left the booth in a rush, swinging his guitar back into its stand haphazardly, pushing the microphone he was keeping close to his lap back into the open space of the recording booth. he grabbed his phone and opened the email, relief washing over him like the stream from his apartment’s moldy shower head when he read we have selected you to join republic records as a production intern for the spring term.

hongjoong looked to mingi with wide, disbelieving eyes, unable to form a single reason why one of the biggest record labels in the city would accept him, choose him. hongjoong had been more than proficient in his work, with his grades, with forming relationships with big names in the industry — but at the end of the day, when he looked at himself in the mirror, all he saw was the same sixteen year old boy from brooklyn who’s only future was spent on the sidewalks of manhattan, maybe a shelter if he was fortunate enough. not a cent to his name, barely any clothes on his back, spending his adult years asking faceless people for a couple dollars just to buy himself a burger. 

it was his parents’ biggest fear, it kept his mother up all night in her queen sized bed, his father no doubt already passed out drunk beside her. she laid there with wide eyes listening to his snores, staring at her cracked ceiling praying for the day she gets to watch her son walk across that big stage, graduation cap flattening his shaggy haircut. she smiled at the thought, but the severity of the situation hit her much deeper, it wiped the smile right off her face. hongjoong was a wild card, she never knew what to do with him, how to keep him walking in a straight line, her last attempt was sending him to such a prestigious college. she begged him to see the value, see what she was sacrificing to send him there, see the desperation she slipped over her head like a uniform when hongjoong was at the ripe age of twelve. 

“you’re in production?” mingi twisted his neck to look over hongjoong’s shoulder, the height difference making it easy for him, “i’m in artist relations.” 

“what’s artist relations?” hongjoong asked while lifting a brow, looking up to the phone his lanky best friend held tight in his hand. 

mingi moved the phone lower, closer to him, sharing the screen to read the email word for word, “interns work closely with signed artists to assist in their day-to-day needs, organizing promotional activities, tours, and managing communications between the artist and the label.”

hongjoong laughed at that, his head tipping back, his eyes fluttering shut in hysterics. mingi’s cheeks flushed, his mouth shut tight and lips lifting at the edges ever so slightly, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. it took hongjoong a moment to get it together before he said, “so you’re someone’s personal assistant?” 

“no!” mingi’s voice was raised, he took a breath, “yes, maybe, i guess so, whatever! i’m still interning at republic and a hierarchy is something to climb no matter where you start.” 

hongjoong laughed again, clutching his stomach that had a slight ache in the pit then looked down to his lit up screen, “i’m assisting with music recording, mixing, and mastering. may help in studios, learning about the technical side of producing records, blah blah blah. i got the good one.” 

“shut up,” mingi grumbled, locking his phone and shoving it in his pocket, “asshole, they're both good, i was excited. don’t ruin it.” 

“i’m just fucking with you, ming, you should be excited. being a personal assistant means you get the inside scoop,” hongjoong smirks, “plus we can tell each other about our jobs.” he lifts his index finger, already thinking of what comes next, “we’re gonna learn every inch of that place and every job before we even get hired, we’ll be behind the big desk in no time.”

mingi nods as if hongjoong’s strategy had planted itself directly into his head through shared brain waves, “you’re right, you’re so right, holy shit you’re so right.” 

hongjoong’s eyes go wide again, the realization settling in, “we’re interns at republic records.” 

it brought him back to that night, you with your husky voice and tattooed legs and piercings that shone in the path of moonlight through your bedroom window, the cigarette you held between two dainty fingers … you that brought him here, you that handed him this idea along with four white lines on a silver platter. 

pieces started falling into place, everything started to click, he remembered just a month ago he saw an advertisement for your band, a black piece of paper stuck to a light pole, performing at the red lion in greenwich village. he didn’t spare it a second thought, didn’t even process that he knew you when he saw it, too engrossed in how he was rushing to a class he was late for and the music in his headphones and the redbull he was juggling between his phone and laptop and keys. 

he didn’t think much of it again until he was two months deep in his internship, walking through the dim hallways of republic records with two cups of coffee in his hands, one for himself and one for the producer he was working next to that day. he walked by one of the practice rooms, door shut with a square window in the center, he caught nothing but a glimpse of your hair but it was enough to make him stop in his tracks, to feel the coffee in the confines of their cups threaten to overflow their lids.

he stopped there for a moment, peered through the glass box, let his brain backtrack to that fall of two years ago. god, what the hell was your name again?

he couldn’t hear a note yet he longed for the main singer’s mellifluous voice to kiss his pierced ears, he could see you working the crowd in his memories when you were performing for nothing but a blank brown wall, he let his eyes drift to the green haired drummer. what could have been. 

he pulled himself from the trance you had pulled him under again, much similar to when he first met you. hair cut shorter, edgier, more ink filling spaces in your soft skin that were empty the last time he saw you, much more clothing on your body this time around. at this point you must be twenty four, hongjoong himself just twenty one, just legal to drink in public, not that his age had ever stopped him before. it didn’t stop him from doing anything he wanted. 

he kept walking, beckoning his legs to push one foot in front of the other before he arrived back at the studio he was in for the day. he felt cloudy, like he needed a line, something to pull him out of his head, but he needed to reminisce. he remembered your conversation even in his coked out state, the way you laughed at him for suggesting such a perfect label to exist, the way republic records slipped off your tongue like it was nothing but a pipe dream you stored in the darkest corners of your head.

hongjoong believed in fate, he always told himself there was no other reason for his life to be the way it is. hongjoong had experienced plenty, he’d woken up on too many stoops in neighborhoods he started the night across from, had one too many syringes full of narcan shot in his arm when his cocaine was cut with fentanyl. he’d survived to tell the tale, not just survived but he kept living, what else did he have to thank? 

sheer luck, a guardian angel, fate, whatever it was he was thankful it stayed with him for so long, perched on his shoulder when he’d do the same things that made the front page of the new york times. there were too many lines in his life that crossed, too many threads that webbed for there not to be some external force, something he didn’t have a hand in. when yours and his threads crossed, got tangled that one night in the pits of brooklyn, he couldn’t help but think that the two years he’d spent his life up to this moment was the untangling. 

as mingi stood in their shared apartment later that night, telling him about his day, talking about the band he was assigned to, hongjoong couldn’t believe his ears when the word clotho left mingi’s lips. out of all the interns, all the employees in that massive building, all of the record labels in the city, you signed to the agency he worked for and mingi was assigned to assist you. 

he let him speak, let him complain about listening to your harsh demands, your continual need to practice the same song until they got it right, the way you flirted with mingi and how mingi ate it up. he let mingi speak with open ears, normal sized pupils and a nasty drip sliding down the back of his throat before he had enough. pulling the bag of his coke from his pocket he grabbed his favorite tray he kept right on the coffee table, spread the snow and cut it with a card from his wallet and sniffed. no dollar bill, no straw he sliced in half, just a finger pressed to his pierced nostril leaving the other one raw and full of blow. 

“christ, joong, it’s eight at night on a monday,” mingi shook his head at his friend, “do you really need to be railing lines right now?”

“i fucked her,” hongjoong admitted plainly, crossing his right leg back over his left knee.

“what? who?” mingi asked, his eyebrows reaching his hairline, leaning over in the recliner in their shared living room. 

“the guitarist from clotho, the one who’s name apparently neither of us know,” hongjoong chuckled before shaking out his arms, shaking off the discomfort of a possession he had no right feeling, “i fucked her.”

mingi sat there, blinking, not a word leaving his lips for moments before his brain turned back on, “i won’t- i didn’t know- when did you even?”

hongjoong waved him off with ring clad fingers before standing, walking towards his bedroom, “do what you want with her, just figured i’d let you know.”

hongjoong never had a girlfriend, a boyfriend, a relationship that lasted longer than one drunken night. even when he was younger he’d never experienced the puppy love all of his peers got themselves into, the only desire he felt was the rush of getting away with something, he’s craved that since before he can remember. possession wasn’t an emotion he was used to, one he rarely experienced at all, he couldn’t pinpoint why that spark of control showed itself when talking to mingi of all people. 

he left your apartment in a race that night, he couldn’t of cared less about you in the moment, he never thought about you again until two months ago, over two years after he slept with you in the first place. he thought you special maybe, a fucked up train of thought when he couldn’t even remember your name, special despite how utterly ordinary that night was. special because he had you to thank for the path he was on now, what he's accomplished since that night with you. maybe it was gratitude, adoration, maybe just someone to look up to if he considered your success comparable to his own, he didn’t know and it was driving him insane. 

his night with you was nothing out of the ordinary, he did nothing with you that he hadn’t done with tens of other people, yet the pedestal still remains tall. he tried to think about it in his sleepless night yet he got absolutely nowhere, no resolution, no explanation for the whirlwind he’d put himself through over hours. he sat up in his bed and sighed, a cold sweat lingering on his tanned skin, then he grabbed the guitar from beside his bed. 

he let the feeling consume him that night, let it pour out into every note his painted fingers strummed along the guitar. as the sun peeked through his bedroom window the next morning he decided that one night of thinking was all he could handle, he chose to let the feelings be what they are and put them on the old metal rack along with his guitar. 

he didn’t see you through that window to the practice room again, and he’d purposely walked by plenty of times in the weeks to follow. coming into mid march, for some reason the company was busy. hongjoong was keeping up, of course he was, juggling the workload from the producer he worked with and then everything else that was added to his plate by numerous other producers of the company. hongjoong was famous in that building, he was a dream intern, every person of a higher rank in that building wanted him for something. 

hongjoong loved it, he loved the attention, he loved being depended on, he loved being busy most of all. reaching deadlines, bouncing back and forth between different artists and their own genre of music, hongjoong was nothing but a sponge in the ocean that was republic records. he soaked everything in, he learned everything, he remembered everything, he loved that his extensive knowledge was only ranging farther. 

when he woke up that morning to the sunrise and a clear head after playing acoustic versions of rock songs all fucking night, he did exactly what he told himself he was going to. even if he wanted to think about you again he didn’t have a moment to himself to be able to, his internship was taking up so much of his personal time most days his homework wasn’t even a priority. the internship told him when he started to let them know if the workload was too much, if it was affecting his studies, but in what world would he do that? after leaving his bubble of adolescence of being a regular college student and entering the adult world, his career, why would school come first? he was already doing it, already loved by so many people, it was only right that hongjoong would fixate on what was working. 

“we’re recording today,” jag, the producer he worked with, didn’t even have the decency to greet hongjoong with a hello. so backed up, so overworked, jag looked like he hadn’t slept in three days.

“with who?” hongjoong paid no mind to his unpleasant greeting, setting a coffee down right in front of him. jag’s eyes widened, a sparkle shining through the deepest of browns, he immediately brought the cup up to his chapped lips. jag’s favorite, this hongjoong knew by now, he also knew how jag worked, how to put him in a better mood even on his worst days. 

“clotho,” jag said after a refreshing sigh, pleased with the hot drink he was gifted, “they’re finishing up their album, they’ve been working with max for majority of the recording. max called out sick, so they’re with us.”

hongjoong’s eyebrows raised, his mouth opening ever so slightly. jag caught on to the surprise, much like how observant hongjoong was, jag also paid a lot of attention to the boy with the sand colored mullet. jag snickered, “you have the same look on your face as when you slept with anitta and we had her in the booth the next day.”

“you know me too well,” hongjoong sat down in the chair beside him and let out a noise of relief as he got comfortable, cracking his knuckles as he spoke, “i fucked the guitarist.”

jag laughed, a belly laugh from the pit of his stomach, “which one?”

“the lead guitarist, the one covered neck to toe in tattoos,” hongjoong brings his attention to the monitor, an entirely different project jag was working on spread across the screen.

jag rubbed his face with his hands, “do we need to get every artist an STD test? i’m starting to get scared you’ll cause an outbreak.”

hongjoong rolled his eyes before responding with a playful smile, “you know i’m clean.”

their small talk didn’t get much further before your band was barreling through the studio, yawns and huffs of air being thrown about the space. hongjoong kept it professional, he kept his focus on the mixing board, the monitor, pulling up the file to the tracks that they were working on that day. 

you looked… tired. no makeup, guitar case strapped to your back, tattoos hiding under the cotton of your sweats. it was early, the company had them working not just at dawn but also on the weekend, two things that weren’t normal for scheduling or recording. you didn’t notice him yet, or you were ignoring him, hongjoong wasn’t sure but he also didn’t care. he needed to get you in that booth, get the recording done as fast as possible so he could meet his friends at baby’s all right later. 

at the start of the first track on the album they’d record that day, hongjoong knew the moment you saw him, the second you recognized his pierced nose and shaggy hair that was much longer now than the last time you’d seen him. he could see it in the way your eyes widened and the pause you took before you took your pick from your lips, he watched the gears turn in your head, he watched every memory play out in your eyes from that night two years ago. jag seemed to notice too by the way his palm slapped hongjoong’s knee under the desk, a breath of amusement leaving his lips. 

your movements were slowed, it took you entirely too long to shift the microphone so it stood correctly in front of you, but you shook yourself out of your thoughts as the rhythm guitarist played the first few clean, arpeggiated chords. this song… hongjoong recognized it immediately, the memories once again flooding back to him.

once you got through the haunting intro, through the slow burn build into heavier, distorted riffs, hongjoong thought that you might be a siren, too. instead of a melodic voice, it was the resonance you played through the strings under your calloused fingertips hooking him, once again pulling him into a trance, a spell you weren’t even conscious of casting. when it got to your solo in the middle of the song, backed up with an underlying chord progression from the rhythm guitarist and a deep bass line, he could feel it from head to toe. the entrapment, the sight in front of him that he couldn’t bear to look away from. the back up instruments set a platform, a center for you to take the stage in the small recording booth, for the focus of the listener to hear you, focus on you. 

he had a job. he had buttons to press, things to adjust, he had to listen with an assessing ear, he had to snap out of it. he watched as your chipped nail polish slipped from string to string, the other hand clenched tightly around your guitar pick. he watched as you nodded along to the drums, eyebrows furrowed in focus of following the mid tempo groove, listening to the song as much as you were playing it. he knew that feeling, that multitasking, listening and doing and following and evaluating all at once. 

he blinked a few times before directing his focus to the monitor instead of watching you shred in the booth, he fell in and out of focus for the entire session between his eyes being locked on you and making sure your song was being recorded properly. he thought he’d let go of what he felt, laid his feelings to rest in his favorite instrument beside his bed, but as he watched you strum along to the fourth track they’d record that day he decided maybe there was a reason your paths crossed once again. 

just like that one night spent with him and his music, the feelings he didn’t want to address, he spiraled into yet another torment of not being able to process anything. all he had was this unidentifiable emotion, a pang in his chest, he didn’t know what to do with it or how to address it properly. he looked at from all sides, contradicted himself, tried to unpack it for exactly what it was, but he still felt himself unable to move from square one. 

by the end of the session hongjoong’s brain was on backwards, he was barely of help to jag the entire time you were in the booth. jag gave him a pass even if he was entirely confused as to why hongjoong was acting so fucking weird, he’d never acted so out of it, even during the session with anitta. jag chopped it up to the fact that hongjoong was probably overworked much like himself, even if something tugged at him, telling him there was more going on in hongjoong’s head than just exhaustion. 

the rest of the session went a lot easier than hongjoong thought it would based off of the insight he’d gotten from mingi, but he guessed he shouldn’t have assumed how you’d act from just one conversation that was ages ago. mingi hadn’t mentioned you or the band again since that night, deeming it a sensitive topic, one he’d like to avoid since him and hongjoong kept the people they fucked very separate, except for those they shared. you were rather quiet towards hongjoong, only what was necessary for getting the recording done, he couldn’t pull anything from you except for eyes boring into the back of his head from across the room and a short snap of a complaint when he noticed a bleed from the microphone. 

hongjoong was exhausted beyond belief by eight o’clock yet he still had an entire night ahead of him. he packed up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, relieved he was about to go drink away the new emotions he’d encountered.

“you alright?” jag asked, a weird question coming from jag who usually kept their conversations light hearted, he rarely picked hongjoong apart.

“‘m fine, just tired,” hongjoong waved him off with a smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. jag lifted an eyebrow, too curious but too scared to ask. him and hongjoong’s relationship was specific, a teacher and his student, despite the not always innocent conversation that sometimes felt like it was between two friends. he didn’t find it his place to intervene on the conversation that’s been going on for hours in hongjoong’s head, better to let hongjoong come to him if need be.

“see you monday,” was all jag called after hongjoong who had already left the studio’s door, an echo through the heavy wood. 

hongjoong didn’t expect to turn and see you pressed up against the wall, guitar encased at your side, the sleeves of your sweatshirt rolled up to your elbows. you smiled, an eerie smile, one that told hongjoong everything he was feeling earlier was about to be intensified, amplified, much like the sound of your instrument. 

“you didn’t think to tell me you worked here?” you tilted your head, the smile of a cheshire cat sitting wide on your cheekbones. 

“and how would i do that?” hongjoong grabbed your guitar case from beside the wall and began walking, ushering you to follow along. if you were going to talk, it should be away from jag’s curious ears. 

“maybe make use of the phone number you’ve had in your phone for two years?” it sounded like a question but hongjoong assumed it was more of an instruction, a curious sentence that left much to be dissected. 

hongjoong laughed a soft chuckle, “i didn’t think it was necessary.”

“well that’s rude,” you scoffed, grabbing your guitar case from his hand and swinging it over your own shoulder, “this is the last place i would’ve expected to see you.”

“and i feel the opposite,” he turned to look at you, almost his height in your platform sneakers, “you laughed at me when i knew exactly where you’d end up.” 

“ah, buttering me up now, are we?” you smirked, “didn’t know you thought so highly of clotho.” 

“why else would i sleep with the lead guitarist?” hongjoong joked, his own smile growing wide, the fog he felt in the studio was long gone by the time you reached the end of the hallway. entering the space just before the elevator to take them down to the lobby, hongjoong pressed the button and faced you. 

“that’s fucked up,” you said between your giggles, “you wanna be my groupie now?” you shifted your weight to one foot, making yourself just smaller than the man before you. “i’ll allow it, i guess.” 

“who said i wanted to do it again?” hongjoong’s mischievous smile was permanent across his cheeks now and you gasped, slapping his bicep. the elevator dinged and opened quickly, an empty dimly lit space demanding you to continue the conversation.

“what are you doing later?” you asked as you stepped inside, leaning against the bar that was fused against the wall opposite of hongjoong. 

“going to baby’s all right with a couple friends,” hongjoong answered plainly, ignoring the voice tugging at him to ask you to come with.

“got room for one more?” you beat him to it, you’ve been bold since the day he met you, he didn’t know why it took him by surprise. 

he stuttered a bit in his agreement and you told him to meet you at your apartment, a new one in brooklyn, not the one you used to occupy in queens. he didn’t have the strength to tell you he grew up in the same neighborhood, he knew your address like the back of his hand, that this is yet another thread sewn into the web. hongjoong believed in fate and he believed in signs, it seemed that every one was pointing in your direction. he trusted the signs, trusted in luck, trusted in fate, trusted in whatever kept itself on his shoulder that this path he was taking was the right one. 

he never cared much for right and wrong when it came to anything, especially entertaining the idea that his own actions would change how his life would turn out. hongjoong never had any goals or expectations for his life, he assumed how he’d turn out before the age of fifteen, he was careless unless it benefited him to put in an effort for anything yet he never considered that might put him on the wrong path, it just was what it was. from stealing a twenty dollar bill from his mother’s second hand coach bag to working alongside one of the most famous music producers in the city, before two years ago when hongjoong actually felt that he was moving upward, he never took into consideration that maybe his actions did have consequences, maybe he chose what path his life went in by the smallest of decisions. 

he showed up to your apartment late, much to your dismay, even if you were also late yourself. you took about ten more minutes after he’d buzzed up to your apartment to let you know he’d arrived, leaving him to his own devices on your stoop. when you’d finally walked out of your front door hongjoong’s right nostril twitched, he was used to only one thing giving him this kind of rush, this sensation he felt at every nerve ending. you were fucking breathtaking with your microscopic skirt and shirt so small he didn’t know if you could consider it anything other than a bra. makeup dark and sultry, lips so red he had flashbacks to when he scrubbed smudges of it off of the base of his neck. your hair was down and straightened, framing your cheekbones so beautifully, the shadows it created made you look like a creature of the night in the most dangerous way. 

he felt like he was looking at you for the first time all over again, the last two years had done you well, all of the coke and drinking and partying hadn’t aged you in the slightest. it was rare that excessive consumption didn’t affect one's appearance, most of his hometown friends had begun to resemble zombies years ago, you seemed to be immortal. the walk to the bar was short, less than ten blocks away, and hongjoong was grateful. he was using tonight for release, he needed to let go of everything he’s been responsible for, take a night to forget everything and just be. of course, out of all nights, someone who he worked with just a few hours ago would be accompany him, but at least it’s you.

“have you been to this place?” you asked, the innocence in your voice contradicting the heaviness of your boots hitting the concrete. 

hongjoong nodded, his hands shoved in his pockets, “many times.”

“we performed here a couple months ago i think, i don’t really remember it much, i got hammered as soon as we got off the stage,” you were talking mindlessly, just sparking up a conversation so you weren’t walking silently beside each other. 

“it’s cute, less grungy and dirty and more..” he racked his brain for a way to describe it, falling into a momentary silence, “picturesque for the instagram models of the city, i guess?”

you laughed at that, “then i’ll put your hands to good use and you can be my personal photographer for the night, my followers will be grateful.”

hongjoong’s lips grew into a smirk, “there are better ways to put my hands to use.”

“we still have a whole night to get through before i can attest to that,” you raised a finger towards him in protest, your own smile growing, the two of you falling into easier conversation once the flirting started up again. 

“we’ve only walked a block, we can easily turn around,” hongjoong came to a stop, looking back to the stretch of ground they had just hiked, eyes full of amusement yet he was also dead serious. there are plenty ways to let off steam.

you rolled your eyes, “normally i’d agree, but i’m in the mood to party and if you’re anything like you were two years ago i don’t think you’re capable of a quickie.”

the two of you fell into stride again, “i can say with confidence that i am not fond of quickies.”

you brought up work after that, talked about the album, compared recording with hongjoong and jag to max. hongjoong half tuned out at that, he answered where he needed to but he was over the work talk, he needed to get to that bar now. 

you met up with his hometown friends once you got there, people you slightly recognized from backstage two years ago, but there were a few hongjoong had to introduce you to. once you mentioned clotho you had more to talk about with the group of people, being the lead guitarist of a band signed by republic records was always a great conversation starter. 

hongjoong kept his tab open, let you order whatever you wanted on it for the night, to you that was an invitation to get fucked up as much as it was payback for snorting all of your coke two years ago. you were intrigued at this point, not just by hongjoong himself but about what was going on in his head. you’d assessed the situation while you were getting ready as much as you wanted to leave it at a free night of partying, but you couldn’t shake the curiosity that came along with the presence of kim hongjoong. 

after he had left your apartment two years ago in such a rush, you’d hoped he’d call you for at least two weeks after. even a text, whatever you could get from him was enough, because you’d never had a night like that with anyone, the sex being something that no other person you’d invited to your bed could compare to. everything about him physically, the shared interests, the banter, the easy conversation. you were coked out of your mind yet you still remember every detail of that night, even almost a thousand days later hongjoong had left his mark on you without it being intentional. 

then you saw him again, and he was working for you. he was sitting behind the mixing board with headphones on, looking unbothered as ever, you wondered if he even remembered you, if that night stayed with him the way it stayed with you. once your eyes met and you could feel the knowing shared from a single, too long stare through the glass, you had to talk to him, had to pick his brain, had to insert yourself into his life like what you shared wasn’t just one night so you could do it again.

you took his invitation and drank to your heart’s content, and he did, too. both of you ended up in the cramped crowd of the DJ, so unlike hongjoong, very much like you, drowning in a swamp of sweaty bodies. everyone was jumping, arms swinging to the beat, phones with flashes on all pointed towards the stage. hongjoong was gone as he planned, his mind forgetting everything except for the beautiful woman beside him, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. watching you as you jumped in the air, swaying to the music, everything bouncing to the bass, he was getting impatient and his dick could feel it. 

he needed a bump to take the edge off, reset him so he didn’t rush you out of your fun, he enjoyed seeing you so carefree. in your monologue about your album you’d seem stressed, hongjoong assumed you needed to get away for a night just as much as he did. 

“i need a bump,” he yelled over the music, grabbing your forearm that you kept at your side to get your attention, the other one hung above your head. 

“me too!” you yelled back, looking up to him with those big doe eyes, there goes his reset. he didn’t think you’d come with, too wrapped up in the set the DJ was playing, but he stupidly thought wrong – you were just like him, after all. your hand latched onto his and he lead you out of the crowd, through the crowded bar, and then outside to the sidewalk of broadway. he nodded his head to the bouncer and wrapped around the building that still had a line outside the door to somewhere quieter, where people would be less likely to interrupt you.

“joong, i think we could’ve stayed in front, it’s not like he cares,” you pointed out, referring to the bouncer as you finally turned the corner, pulling your box of cigarettes from your purse.

he pulled the baggie from his pocket along with his keys, splitting them until he found his apartment key that had old coke lodged into the rivets of the metal, “excuse me for not wanting to share.”

you giggled, stumbling a little bit over your feet when you tried to light the cigarette, “wanna go soon?”

he looked up to you with eyebrows raised as he brought the key up to his nose, “yeah? you ready?”

“want you already, tired of waiting,” your legs instinctively crossed, thighs pressing together as you pulled from the cigarette, the tip burning a bright orange. 

his smile returned, the devilish one that he seemed to only wear around you, “what? you don’t wanna party anymore? that’s the only reason we’re here, baby.”

your thighs flexed below your skirt at his words as he brought the key up to your nose after your exhale of smoke, smirking as you sniffed, “don’t call me baby unless you’re fucking me against the wall.”

he laughed at your body reacting to his words, something that came so naturally to him throwing you for a loop, the thought crossing his mind just for a moment that maybe he should’ve done this a lot sooner. he let you burn down half the cigarette before he was feeling the same level of impatience and you were starting to look even sexier, the rush of the bump coursing through his blood and sending all of it straight to his dick.

“let’s go say bye and then i’ll fuck you stupid at home, no bathroom this time,” he grabbed your hand again instinctively, leading you back inside the club, letting you throw the still lit cigarette to the busy street.

he found his friends quick and said bye even quicker, his pants started tightening the moment you crossed your legs and they weren’t getting any baggier as time went on. the walk back to your apartment reminded him of the subway ride from the last time, each block you walked had you pressed up on a random stoop, hongjoong’s tongue in your mouth and hand sliding farther and farther up your skirt with each stop. you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other, too needy, too impatient, a feeling you kept passing back and forth through spit and moans on brooklyn doorsteps.

you didn’t let lust take over in the entryway this time, hongjoong quickly learned this apartment wasn’t just your own but instead shared. a man’s jacket sat hung on the coat rack on the foyer, three pairs of men’s shoes shuffled about the floor. that possessiveness returned, coating a thick layer over him before he looked up. your apartment was massive, no way you were affording this on your own even in brooklyn, maybe you had two roommates. the apartment was decorated less cozy than the last time he was here, more like your band’s style, rough and dirty and dim. it didn’t smell of vanilla but instead mahogany, a hint of bourbon, so much more masculine than he’d expected. 

hongjoong’s gut twisted with the information and he pushed it down, ignored it, pretended you shared the space with a ghost instead as you lead him through the apartment and to your room quickly, pushing him against the door the second you heard the latch enter the door frame. you were on your knees in seconds, not wasting any time, only enhancing hongjoong’s need to have control as you unbuckled his belt and pulled his jeans down. 

“been dreaming of having this dick again for years,” you mumbled absent mindedly as you finally got him bare, naked and leaking, eyes wide and blown not just from the coke. 

“should’ve came and got it then,” your revelation didn’t sink in, didn’t seem to click in hongjoong’s brain, too fucked up to think of anything other than fucking your throat as he finally got the wet heat of your mouth around him.

your nails clawed at the skin of his thighs as you bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each stroke, gagging yourself but pushing through nonetheless. hongjoong had his fingers tied in your hair, the back of his head pressed against the door, low groans leaving his lips with each tighten of your throat. 

“so fucking good, missed that mouth,” drawled out of his lips as you worked him faster, wetter, your saliva beginning to run down his thighs. he loved it messy, dirty, you were taking him in his favorite way. he was in heaven, but the impatience was only growing. he needed you loud, screaming, cumming around his dick over and over again. 

“should’ve came and got it then,” you shot back as you pulled off of him with a pop, catching your breath. tears laid in your lash line, lipstick so smudged and faded hongjoong wondered if it made a ring around the base of him.

“on the bed,” he ordered before you had the chance to take him in your mouth again and you were on your feet in a second, ripping your clothes off before you nearly jumped on the bed, greeting him with all of your limbs planted on the mattress on all fours. 

“impatient,” he mumbled as he undressed himself, crawling onto the bed behind you, leaving a rough smack against your ass.

you moaned in response as your body jerked forward, legs spreading further in response. he loved that about you, the pain slut that lived inside you even if you tried to put up a dominant front. you weren’t shy about what you wanted, what you needed from him, always so responsive. maybe you were his favorite. 

he slipped inside you with ease, you were wet enough to take him, you’d been waiting for this for hours. he set a brutal pace immediately, pounding into you leaving you a loud, crying mess. it wasn’t long before your arms gave out below you, sending your face flying into the comforter, definitely leaving streaks of black from your eye makeup. hongjoong couldn’t wait to see the mess you’d made. 

“such a perfect pussy, like it was made for me,” his voice was slurred and low, close to babbles as he spoke deliriously between thrusts, he felt fucked out too, entranced by your pussy that was sucking him in. 

“‘t was, it is, it's yours,” your voice matched his, cheek pressed to the mattress, one hand clawing behind yourself and another at the sheets to grab something, anything for leverage, “don’t stop, so good.” 

he didn’t indulge in your grabs as he felt himself getting close, he definitely wasn’t lasting as long as he wanted to, but after a small break and another line he’d be roaring to go again. he wrapped an arm around your torso, middle finger finding your clit, circling it steadily. you cried out, jerking against him, thighs starting to shake under him.

“gonna cum!” you cried out, the strain in your voice let him know the tears that were in your eyes earlier had fell. he kept at his rhythm, fucking into you at the same pace of your circles and you tightened around him, letting go, crying out with no remorse for anyone who might also be here. as you grabbed at his hand and forced it off of you he let himself focus on his own orgasm, fucking back into you at the pace he knew would have him letting go in seconds. 

“inside, joong, please,” you begged, voice rough and raspy, not giving him the chance to ask you where you wanted him. he indulged, emptying himself inside you with a groan, stilling as he leaned over the two koi fish swimming up your back. 

your legs gave out after he pulled out, falling flat against your stomach, legs still twitching against the cotton. you moaned at the emptiness, the release, and hongjoong laid himself beside you. you stayed in silence for minutes, breaths of air occupying the air, the only thing you could hear in your bedroom. you had 80s thrash metal posters all over your walls, different paintings, things he recognized from your old room. it made him smile, knowing he was back here again, a different apartment yet the things he pointed out last time were still here. two years have gone by yet some things just don’t change.

“gonna have to show me your place next time,” you finally spoke, turning your head to face him, pulling your arms under your face to rest on.

“next time?” hongjoong asked, raising an eyebrow, “what makes you so confident that there’ll be a next time?”

you rolled your eyes, “you have no choice, there’s no way in hell i’m letting you get away from me again. and you’re putting your number in my phone before you go.”

you didn’t know that he had every intention of seeing you again, of showing up whenever you called, of doing whatever the hell you wanted him to whenever you wanted him to do it. he didn’t know that those calls would come quicker than he thought, he’d take you time and time again, these visits becoming more frequent the more time you spent together. he decided the feelings he harbored didn’t need to be unpacked, he could leave them unaddressed if that meant he could see you, be with you, get himself inside you after a long day. for the months to follow he stood by that, he didn’t think much of your relationship other than the fact that you had one, unlabeled and undisclosed. 

he left your apartment the next morning slowly, much unlike last time, almost as if he didn’t want to leave. but you called him later that night, asked him if he wanted to come over, and of course he said yes, he hadn’t said no to that question yet. he found out you lived with two of your bandmates, yasu, the leader and the green haired drummer he learned was noa. they were both just as cool as you, that much he knew from the recording session you’d spent together, and hongjoong got along with them just as well as he got along with you. 

he’d spent many nights partying with you and your band after shows or on random weeknights, just as much as you spent time with hongjoong and his friends from brooklyn, or even nights with just himself and mingi. you got to know each other on a level he hadn’t expected you to, one he didn’t necessarily allow you to, including that you found out his real age, you didn’t speak to him for an entire night of drinking after he’d told you the truth. you let it go later that night when he had you pressed against the wall, outside, behind the bar you were at, fingers scissoring into you for ignoring him, denying you release for the following hours to come.

hongjoong was at all of your recording sessions, he helped with marketing your band, helped other interns and even your manager with scheduling performances, interviews, you started to bleed into every part of his life, every aspect of his job. you found out about his laziness with schoolwork, you denied him the pleasure of being inside you until he got his shit together before the semester ended, it was a long two weeks for him, his fist and his coke dealer. 

hongjoong was enamored by you, your lifestyle, your entire being. he didn’t ever think about what you were, he kept his thoughts about your relationship very surface level, terrified as to what would happen if he looked any deeper than that. he didn’t even take the time to consider whether or not you were exclusive, he didn’t let himself think about what you’d look like under someone else and how that made him feel, he didn’t need to. neither of you had any time, you were always with him, he was always with you if he wasn’t busy with the company or what was left of his junior year, you were too wrapped up in one another to think about anyone else.

somehow hongjoong was one of the last people to find out about your first tour, a quick four months across north america over the summer, ranging from june to september. he was ecstatic when he was told by his superior, he couldn’t wait to talk to you about it, the celebratory party to follow, just the fact that you were growing, making it just like he knew you would.

the label had you in a quick meeting when he found out, thirty minutes you spent inside the room with frosted glass windows, hongjoong spent his lunch break waiting just outside the door. the more time he spent tapping his foot, bouncing his knee, the more his brain started to think. you’d known about this for a month now, sitting on the information, not sharing it with him when he thought you shared everything. it became the longest thirty minutes of his life, he hadn’t felt this way in a long time, the drop of his stomach was such a rare occurrence he couldn’t remember five other times it’s ever happened to him. why hadn’t you told him sooner?

it terrified him, enough to leave his spot outside the door, to go all the way outside the building until he was greeted with the scent of summer in manhattan. he paced up and down the length of the building, racking his brain for why this was happening now, after he’d spent so much time with you, after he’d gotten completely comfortable around you, after he’d sank way too fucking deep. why hadn’t you told him sooner? it was as if his world was closing in on him, he hadn’t even felt this way when he was on the brink of consciousness before narcan was shot into his bloodstream, he’d never felt an attachment to someone let alone having it on the brink of being ripped away from him. this was betrayal.

it was only four months, but that was almost double the time you’d actually spent together. he felt himself walking on a road the past two months, a tunnel that had something unknown at the end, something totally new to him. he allowed it, he was blissfully ignoring his discomfort, the unknown, embracing this new type of relationship, this type of closeness with someone. he’d only gotten this close with mingi, only just allowed that type of friendship, he hadn’t let anyone else in since then, not even jag who he spent most of his time with other than you and mingi. he wouldn’t allow himself to bleed so freely, to show himself so naked, to give anyone else the opportunity to know him or hurt him. he kept everyone at arm's length for a reason.

hongjoong assumed this was the end of whatever was perched on his shoulder as he looked up to the clear, bright sky beyond the buildings, that was the only explanation he could muster up. he said goodbye, he thanked it for being with him all this time, for keeping a watchful eye, keeping him above the water. he wished it well.

he sniffed a bump and walked back inside the building with a distant cloud looming over him, a stoic look to his face, a carelessness that draped over him like your bedsheets in the early hours of the morning. he wouldn’t let you see him in such a state, you’d seen enough of him, more than you were ever supposed to. 

hongjoong has never believed in regret, he’s a firm believer that everything happens for a reason, everything you go through is to teach you something. from overdosing on more than one occasion, it taught him to not do someone else’s coke, to know his dealer on a personal level, to know what his drugs were cut with. from disappointing his parents time and time again, it taught him to get sneakier, not give them hopes that he could shatter. from turning in weeks worth of homework late and only just passing his last semester of his junior year, it taught him to stay on top of his studies or he could easily lose everything he’s worked for. from sleeping with the lead guitarist of a random band in brooklyn and ending up an intern at republic records, it taught him that purpose and opportunities are everywhere if you’re keeping an eye out for them. from getting into something that’s the closest thing to a romantic relationship he’d ever experienced with the woman of his dreams, it taught him that if you leave your feelings exposed, someone is able to betray them, take them in their hands and toy with them, crush them if they wanted to.

he thought himself naïve. he wouldn’t allow it to happen again. 

with a quick fifteen minutes and still not a word to you, he put his walls back up, higher than they’d ever been before, he was sina, rose and maria. he was aurelian when he walked straight past you in the lobby, hadrian when he walked past your bandmates who whipped their heads around to watch him walk to the elevator, jericho when he slipped inside the thankfully open door. he went back to the studio where jag was waiting for him, who playfully asked him if he was fucking his girlfriend in the bathroom and if that’s why he was late.

hongjoong snapped, told him to fuck off and jag listened. he didn’t ask any questions for the rest of the session, they went through the motions, got their workload finished for the day and went their separate ways. jag knew, of course jag knew, jag knew hongjoong like the back of his hand by now. since january, five months the two have been a pair, close without being close, jag is an observant man and hongjoong is not good at hiding his emotions. 

hongjoong didn’t answer your calls, didn’t answer your incessant rings of his doorbell, ignored your begs at the door of the recording studio, it didn’t take long until everything stopped. you got on that bus headed straight to florida and he couldn’t stop the slip, the easy slide of becoming the eighteen year old version of himself again. 

he turned his brain off outside of the music he made, the paintings he created, the drawings that now littered even the floor of his bedroom. the label was busy, he immersed himself in his work, he didn’t even have school to keep him occupied until august, he let every ounce of his energy go into republic records and substances. after work he was in the pits of brooklyn, seeing every show he could, in every club in the city, taking every drug he could get his hands on. his friends were happy to have him back, to have the fun hongjoong in the mix for their benders, another body to sleep with at the end of the night. 

mingi forced him out of it before school started up again, telling him to get his shit together or he’d really lose everything this time. hongjoong was malleable by now, brain so fried from his summer that he just nodded at mingi and tried to set himself up. mingi helped him, basically set hongjoong up himself, enrolled him in his senior year and chose his classes. hongjoong didn’t care, he wished he could do it himself, wished he could think for longer than two minutes without your name crossing his mind. for someone who couldn’t remember your name for the life of him, it was the only thing he could think now, it wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone. 

at this point hongjoong thought you a phantom, that night he saw you as a creature of the night would really come true — you invaded his dreams, his nightmares, his trips when he dropped acid. you were everywhere, you were everything, he didn’t know how he could ever come back from this, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to. 

as he sat on the balcony of his apartment in mid august with a joint between his fingers, hours after vomiting up the oxy one of his friends had slipped him, he decided he had enough.

hongjoong is a lot of things. he’s obsessive, he’s a wild card, he’s an addict, he’s a hard worker, he’s a partier.

but first and foremost, hongjoong is a creator.

he creates art, he creates music, he writes, he draws, he paints. he recites songs from memory, he plays them on the guitar after hearing them just once, hongjoong is gifted. hongjoong created himself, he created this life, he created every path he’s ever walked on. fuck luck and fuck fate, hongjoong created every situation he’s ever been in, created every opportunity for himself, created the name that gets passed through every ear of republic records. 

hongjoong created himself, and he’d burn the world down before someone could ever take that away from him. by september he’d become a junior producer, crossing the line of intern to employee in just nine months, faster than anyone else in republic record’s history. 

he just hoped his resolve stayed intact when you finally stepped off that tour bus and walked back into republic records, ready to begin recording your band’s second album.

[txemrn]

In your hc, did Brynn have any strong cravings or aversions during her pregnancy from the mother's day fic?? How did Sam handle that??? I hope he wasn't a dickhead like with the other pregnancy when he cheated and gave her an STD. 😒

I was just thinking 👉👈🥺😇 that might be a cute little story. 😉

Btw I really enjoy reading about them!!! I'd L💗VE more. HINT proposal??? WEDDING?????

Hey, there! *big ol' hugs* thank you so much for the ask and the "hints". 🤣😂🤣 I hope you enjoy my interpretation of your suggestion! And yes, there is more to come from Sam and Brynn. Enjoy! 🍨🍓🍨

Warning: NSFW 🍋 (tiny little squirts; don't get too excited); language; angst; pregnancy-related stuff

***

The sparkle of fresh winter snow gathers along the window sill. A hint of gingerbread and fresh spruce waltz in the air. Melting with the smokey notes of kindled embers, the fireplace crackles in the darkened master suite--the only lively room left in the penthouse for the evening.

It had been an exhausting Friday. With Christmas and Brynn’s birthday next week, the Dalton family spent their day tirelessly getting things prepared before a very special winter vacation. Brynn attended Mickey and Mason’s holiday party at school, bringing her famous cupcakes and oven-baked Chex Mix, not to mention presents for all the teachers and faculty.

Because of the school’s early release, Brynn and the boys met Sam for lunch, where they served the entire company a catered, bountiful holiday meal, complete with generous congratulatory swag for another successful third year.

Sam spent the afternoon on phone conferences, which gave him time to pack up to work remotely from home; he wouldn’t be returning until the 28th. By the late afternoon, they had completed the grocery shopping, tidied up their home, fixed and ate dinner.

But for Sam and Brynn, the jam-packed day was far from over. There was still one more very important task to complete: sex. And lots of it.

Seductive whispers, tender giggles and lustful moans penetrate the quiet suite. Their exposed bodies hungrily intertwine together as their movements are kept rhythmically in time with the subtle creaking of the bed.

Sam grips tightly to his wife’s supple breast, brushing his thumbs over her erect pink nipples. With her left hand, Brynn sinks her nails onto the top of his hand, squeezing together with him; her other hand holds tightly to the headboard, straddling her thighs on top of her husband’s hips.

“Oh, God! Sam!” she exhales with each thrust onto his swelling, hardened girth, her voice becoming louder, more raspy. “Almost--! Almost--!”

“Brynn--! I--!” With one final buck of his hips, Sam spills over into euphoria. His fingers quickly drop to her voluptuous assets. He clenches savagely to her curves, pushing her drenched, tightening center to his hilt. Sweat drips off his brow as indistinguishable groans wail from his throat.

Watching her husband come undone teases Brynn’s own release. Tossing her almond locks over her bare shoulders, she is taken captive by the sensations tickling her voracious desires. She rocks her hips against Sam’s buried length, stroking her throbbing clit through her incessant waves of reckless ecstasy. Thunderous moans of pleasure escape her mouth as she gasps for a drink of air.

Almost too terrified to disturb the perfect moment, the couple savors the quietness of them simply being together, their hearts beating in-time, connecting as one.

“I love you, baby,” Sam whispers, breaking the silence as he gently massages Brynn’s thighs. His hands intimately roam, carefully finding their way to stroke her fully-blossomed pregnant belly.

A bright smile effortlessly spreads across her face. “I love you, too, baby.” Her delicate fingers meet his. She lifts his hand to her lips, peppering his knuckles with kisses.

“Hopefully,” he chuckles, “that’ll do the trick.”

She cradles her abdomen. “I can only hope so,” she titters, her fingers caressing her abdomen as she talks to their unborn child. “That was another eviction notice, precious one--”

Brynn and Sam had a preterm labor scare at 33 weeks, which landed Brynn in the hospital for a week being pumped with various medications to stop her contractions. She was discharged home, with the instructions to “take it easy.” Though it isn’t ideal to have a baby this early, her team of doctors agreed they weren’t going to do anything to stop her labor if it were to happen again.

Tomorrow, Brynn will be 41 weeks. For the past two weeks, she has been trying every trick in the book to go into labor. Her lab technician Meaghan swore by spicy food; that only gave Brynn ungodly heartburn. Lydia, the Dalton’s downstairs neighbor, gifted Brynn a bottle of castor oil; she spent a solid two days with uncontrollable diarrhea and belly aches. Carter’s wife gave Brynn a special tea blend; she would contract, but nothing painful; she actually fell asleep because of the delicious steep.

Then, there was her mother's advice:

“You’ve gotta have sex, Brynny--”

“Mom--!”

“--and I’m not talking about the mediocre, ‘are you done yet?’ , making-your-shopping-list-in-your-head kind. You need to orgasm--”

“Jesus Christ, Mom--!”

“You need his semen--”

“I can’t believe this is happening right now--���

“And fondle your breasts. Better yet, let him do it! Now you might leak a little, so if you have him suckle--”

*click*

“Brynny? Brynny?”

“I, for one, am not minding this eviction process--”

“Samuel!” she playfully slaps against Sam’s broad chest. Blocking her hits and laughing, Sam finally grabs Brynn, pulling her body down next to his. He wraps his arms around her, brushing his lips against her temple. He rests his large hands on her gravid belly, nuzzling his nose into her neck.

“Are you okay, babe?”

“Mhmm--” Brynn snuggles into Sam’s embrace, closing her eyes. “Just perfect, babe. G’night.”

“Night, baby.”

The delightful pops of the fireplace lulls Sam to sleep; Brynn, however, started having trouble. She turned to her right side, but soon flipped to her left side. When that didn’t get her comfortable, she sat up on the side of the bed, massaging her back and her abdomen.

“Brynn baby,” yawns Sam, “you okay?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you, babe.”

“It’s-k.” Sam fluffs his pillow under his head, keeping his eyes closed. “Contractions?” he slurs.

“Braxton Hicks. I’ll be fine. You go back to--”

Sam lets out a satisfied snore before Brynn can finish her sentence. Tickled, she tucks her husband into bed before she slips on a silk robe. Pulling out her exercise ball from the closet, she sits on top of it in hopes that rocking her hips will bring her some comfort.

She suddenly stops, clutching her chest. An all-too-familiar jolt of burning shoots through her belly leaving an unbearable sour sensation clawing at the back of her throat. Carefully balancing herself to a stand, she retreats to the bathroom for medicine. And to vomit.

“Brynn? Brynn?”

“I’m in here,” her pitiful voice echoes through the bathroom.

Sam slips on a pair of sweats, hurrying to her side in the water closet. Seeing his wife crumpled over the toilet, he drops to her side, pushing her hair behind her ears before rubbing her back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she whispers gravelly.

“No, you’re not,” he tenderly touches her clammy cheek. “What do you need, babe?”

Brynn leans back, sitting her rear on the cold tile. Embracing her body as another contraction subsides, she quietly states, “I need ice cream.”

Sam’s eyes widen with surprise at the request. “You want… ice cream?”

“Mhmm,” she nods. “That would feel so good against my throat.”

“Okay, baby,” he chuckles, brushing his thumb across swollen lips. “Is there a certain flavor--?”

“Strawberry,” she barks, “it needs to be strawberry.”

Sam kisses her forehead, and jogs to the kitchen in search of his wife’s favorite ice cream. Scooping up three massive balls into a bowl, he returns to the bathroom with two spoons.

“Strawberry ice cream, m’lady!” He sits on the floor with her, presenting the cold dessert like a trophy.

Brynn observes the creamy pink heap. She slowly takes the spoon, poking at the frozen treat. She watches her husband take a bite of it first before she reluctantly tries it.

“No,” she spits out her small bite, “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Perplexed, Sam spoons another bite for himself. “Is there something wrong with it? Is it freezer burned or--?”

“No, no,” Brynn’s eyes begin to well with tears. “It’s just not strawberry enough,” she sniffles.

“Okay, babe, there’s no crying in ice cream,” he chuckles, wiping at her eyes.

“I think it’s because I want strawberry ice cream.”

“Honey, this is strawberry ice cream.”

“This is strawberries and cream.” She uses her spoon as a pointer, “See how there’s vanilla and strawberry with pieces of strawberry? I just," she sighs, "I need strawberry ice cream.”

Staring at the wall, Sam pretends to understand his wife’s request. “Of course, baby. I’ll go get, um--” he clears his throat to keep from laughing, “the strawberry ice cream.”

“Hey, Sam?”

“Mhmm?”

“I love you, baby.” She offers a toothy smile.

He chuckles. “Love you, too,” he shakes his head with a coy smile.

Sam returns with another heaping mound of strawberry ice cream. “Alright, baby, just what you asked for: strawberry ice cream.”

“Sam,” irritation saturates Brynn’s voice as it begins to tremble. “This has strawberry pieces in it.”

“It’s because it’s strawberry ice cream,” Sam bites his tongue, watching his words carefully as he gnashes his teeth. “It’s exactly what you asked for, sweetheart.”

Brynn hangs her head in her hands as she sobs. “I wanted strawberry ice cream, not strawberry with strawberries ice cream!”

“Babe, are you fucking kidding me right--?”

“Don’t yell at me!” Brynn begins to sob harder.

“Jesus Christ,” Sam sputters. He runs his hands down his face, letting out a sigh. He sits down next to his wife, taking her in his arms. “How can we fix this? Can you maybe eat around the strawberries?”

“It just,” her breath hangs tight in her throat as she tries to control her tears, “it doesn’t taste the same.”

“Of course, it doesn’t,” he mutters under his breath. He sighs heavily again. “What can I do, Brynn? Tell me what to do.”

“I just want strawberry ice cream--”

“No. What. Do. You. Want?” He grabs his cell phone. “Show me.”

She does a quick google search, pulling up a plain pink custard with strawberry flavoring--no pieces. “This. I need this. Please.”

“Brynn, we don’t have this here.”

“There’s a 7-11 two blocks away--”

“It’s eighteen degrees outside.” Sam shakes his head, as he walks back to bed. “No, this is getting fucking ridiculous.”

Brynn glares at the spot where her husband once stood, her eyebrows furrowing; warm streams of tears downpour on her cheeks. Red patches of skin grow across her neck and face as her breathing labors.

“Samuel!” When he doesn’t answer, she carefully balances herself from the ground and waddles into their room. “Samuel!”

“What?” his muffled words slur as he buries his head into a pillow. “I just need a little sleep.”

“Oh, you need a little sleep? You?” Brynn rips the duvet off of Sam, her small body shaking in anger. “I have given up my body for ten fucking months to grow a baby, an actual human being that will more than likely rip me to pieces just to,” she chuckles sarcastically, “look like you!”

“Brynn, I--”

“I’m not fucking done!” She breathes through another contraction, stepping closer to her terrified husband. “I have not complained once, and yet I have given up every ounce of my dignity. I can’t control my farts. I can't control my pee. I’m growing rolls and stretch marks in places that I never even knew a person could grow them!” She steps even closer, her eyes darkening. “I fuck you multiple times weekly--sometimes daily--where I hide the embarrassment that my hot, chiseled husband is staring at either my double chin or my fat, stretch-marked ass--”

“Baby, I don’t--”

Brynn holds up a finger. “I reverse cowgirl you until my legs cramp because you like it. I suck your dick off because you like it--”

“I thought that--”

“I just want some strawberry ice cream, Sam!” she sobs, “And then maybe you can get some sleep!” Brynn cradles her abdomen as another wave of discomfort grips around her belly.

Sam sits on the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes. “Fine”

“And I need to come with you.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam sarcastically scoffs. He slinks on a long-sleeve shirt before grabbing his coat. He turns back to his wife who is grabbing her coat. “Um, no,” he chuckles. “I need you stay here and just relax--”

“No, we’re going together.”

Frustrated with the conversation, Sam darts his eyes around the room, trying not to yell. “Why, Brynn?”

“Because--”

“‘Because’ why, Brynn?”

“Because my water just broke.”

***

@ao719 @charlotteg234 @chemist-ana @forallthatitsworth @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @lovelyladyk88 @lucy-268 @neotericthemis @pixie88 @sfb123 @shannonsaid @shannonwrote @shewillreadyou @secretaryunpaid @thefrenchiemama

[mechanicalriddle]

HELLO SECRET SANTA... you know who you are and what this is for

my diaries from last year are CRINGE so im rewriting them. plus i have a new pc this go around

Ted (aka Tedeo aka Ledaal Tedeo, he/him, 6′2″) is my obligatory solar dynast, he is a heptagram sorcerer who exalted instead of graduating and now hes on the run from da wyld hunt ! He is a royal brat, a grouch, an appreciator of latest fashions and creature comforts, geniouse Twilight lore supernal, first-age-technology-meddler, up and coming single point stylist and sword fanboy. he has had many outfits over the course of his campaign (my god, actual literal years irl) but this is his current solar swag:

Heres some older pics of him including some previous secret santa gifts.

(x)(x)(x)(x)

Plz do not whitewash and/or ‘Skinnywash’ this guy if you choose to draw him or I will request an edit/redraw. thank u!!

Last Candle Lit Agaist the Dark (they/them, 5′10″) is my weird goth fire aspect. They’re very “scary-guy-in-the-woods”core, and also a sorcerer, albeit they get their powers from some kind of SCP-ass goddess instead of through any careful study. they’re not from the realm, and they’re Not From Around Here either, but now they’re in Gloam trying to track a murderous gang called the Hearteaters, and simultaneously figure out what it means to be a Dragon. Vivisecting animals on strange altars probably doesn’t have anything to do with it, but that’s not going to stop them.

I have a fair bit of art of them from comms and things. Heres some of my favorite pieces:

(x)(x)(x)

And here’s a... Well not an official ref but a picture of them I like more than the ref I made last year

and some more of my own art for good measure:

(x)(x)(x)

Finally we have a NEW ENTRY, Thorn-In-Paw (he/him, 6′5″) whose game just started!! He is a casteless lunar roving adventurer-hero, the son of a lionheaded raksha, a dual practitioner of white reaper and golden janissary, childless but nonetheless a goofy dad, and the living embodiment of the phrase “Dudes Rock”. He only exalted a couple of weeks ago and has no fucking clue what a lunar actually is nor has he ever heard of anything called a “silver pact” or whatever. His spirit shape is a Scimitar Oryx and his tell are his dark cheetah tear-marks which he possesses due to artistic license rather than because lions have those (they don’t).

You can draw his human form or his hybrid form, I will love and treasure depictions of either forever.

He wields a dual bladed spear; you can see what it looks like here (this piece was one of his initial designs & as you can see he has changed a bit since then!)

(x)

Please do not whitewash this dude either!! thx ✌️

star is probably sitting this year out because he’s probably in need of a redesign and i only have so much energyyyyyyy 🅰️

[coolgirl]

Jason expert rate Jason’s designs

sorry for being late i was busy with school but now i’m free so to celebrate. jason indulgence.

pre-crisis not robin

very cute. i like that it has a lil more of flair to it? the collar and the lines on the gloves and the shorter cape.. also love it has pants. king rlly king. wonder if they already knew he was gonna be robin anyways or if they were still considering nightbird. anyways, 8/10 bc its cute

pre & post-crisis robin (bc its basically the same)

i mean its a classic.. however it reminds me jason was the only robin who was simply given dick’s clothes rather than like. have an unique look? which sucks. 7/10 middle child syndrome is REAL

post-crisis robin (winter edition)

OKAY NOW THIS. i absolutely love. is it tacky? oh yes without a doubt. i still love the pants and the sleeves. finally winter clothes for this child, especially considering his new titans scene where he was bitching about the costume not being snow proof. he got what he wanted! 9/10

new 52/rebirth costume by

EPIC. IDC I LOVE IT.the circles on his arms and his boots.. the lines on his legs.. i just love it. i love the red mask too… it feels.. not more unique, but feels more jason-y than the other costume. 10/10

NOW. onto older stuff

hush

as u can see im VERY confusion about the pouches and the straps?? why??? whats the purpose.. generally its fine. the white strand moved a nation and i think the chest piece is cool, but everything else.. uglee. like the long as hell jacket and him looking 40 years old like why r u 19 looking like fifty? ugly white man. 5/10

winicks/utrh version

LITERALLY A CLASSIC. i love this costume sooo much. like jason obviously grew out of it, as in it wouldnt make sense for him anymore to go with something like this as his main costume because i feel like this fit the utrh mood (him not veing a vigilante/hero/villain whatver but trying to be a mob boss n shit) and it just. fucks. i love the helmet just being plain with no stupid mouth or nose shape. i simply love it. 10/10

nigthwing

its just. its just the nightwing costume. didnt even try he just stole that from dick. he still rocks it and looks better than dick, and u gotta give him points for accessorizing with his dagger. 7/10

red robin 

im not. a big fan of this costume.. i think the cowl is ugly, it just does not work for someone as big as jason… however i do like why he took this mantle and what it meant.. 6/10 no words head empty. 

oh brother. furryman

ITS SUCH AN UGLY COSTUME. muzzle batman walked so muzzle red hood could run. its just. ugly like ugly. i dont like the ears or again the muzzle or whatever the hell is going on in the arms.. its just so edgy. 5/10

WANNA KNOW WHAT A SEXY EVIL BATMAN COSTUME LOOK LIKE?

Injustice 2 batman

I2 HAD IT IN THE BAG BABY. i like that its like classic batman costume but again! with some jason touches! the red eyes, the electric tiddies making a comeback.. epic genuinely epic. 10/10

and if ur not into evil jason

100% dad ‘i have my life figured out’ batman jason 

just like the nightwing costume this is just. batman costume. nothing special or different from it so its like did u even try? BUT in this scenario it actually means smth that he stuck to bruces costume.. sweet.. but boring. 7/10

speaking of. evil ugly designs. ugh i hate this.

this motherfucker

ive never. ever. felt as humiliated by a costume than thetime jason wore this. like MORTIFYING RLLY. its DISGUSTINGGG. the helmet shape. the fucking WHITE. the SKULL PLEASE WHO DESIGNED THIS WHO HATES ME IN PARTICULAR SO MUCH??? THIS MAN DOES NOT FUCK! HES UGLY! HE STINKS!!!! the red guns are epic that much i can say. LOOK AT THOSE PANS GOD ITS SO HUMILLIATING. 0/10 WORST COSTUME EVER.

HOWEVER. winick and the artist spun GOLD from it, because next time jason wore possibly my favorite costume to date

this motherfucker…2!

like look how much better it looks with a little of swag.. the helmet without eyes.. the belts.. the fucking leather jacket.. keeping the red guns/gloves.. like seriously i dont know a better man. the skull is still awful and i wouldve replaced the white for black and MWAH best costume. like the black part at the top make it all red and the white make it black.. god this jason fucks massively i love him. 11/10 my favorite by a landslide perhaps

new 52/rebirth red hood

OKAY I KNOW theyre slightly different (rebirth has shorter sleeves and a more padded look) but to me its like. same thing. okay i think its.. fine. its not phenomenal but its not ugly.. i like the brown jacket more than the black jacket i have to admit, its more distinctive and i simply like the color more, however i do not.. like jason having the bat symbol.. but thats also a me thing about how badly written this is. anyways. the helmet with the mouth disgusts me and everytime its drawn like that its humilliating. like. 7/10. maybe 7+. when it has the mouth or like nose ANY FACIAL EXPRESSION RLLY its a 5. 

wingman

oh i absolutely despise that helmet. he looks like fucking. terminator. its the ugliest shape ive ever seen and the visor is.. huge. i dont like the shoulder pads either idk what the fuck its going on with the thing around his neck either.. like hes. knockout batman and i HATEEE IT. damians costume slaps tho. i just… its… ugly. like.. 3/10. 

get damian back arc red hood costume

oh im a HUGE fan of this design.i love how his costume is designed in a way thats like. if jason was a dnd character he absolutely would be a tank. the padding, the red undertones everywhere, i just.. love it. i like how all the costumes were done to reflect their personalities you know.. i like this robin red hood hybrid. 9/10 would even say 10/10 bc i just enjoy how gleason draws jason.

red hood/arsenal costume

its like. i dont hate it completely (i love the way the hood+helmet looks) and thats.. yeah thats pretty much all i like about it. i HATEEEE the vest i hate it fr.i hate how huge the sumbol is and idk this costume just does not spark joy. 5/10

outlaw costume

okay this one. this one drives me insane. because like. okay i dig parts of it. i like the lack of sleeves. i like the gloves thingies. i like the hood. i could get aboard him ditching the helmet - it breaks all the damn time anyways. i like the stripes on his pants in the boots. ALL SEPARATE? NEAT. now i hate. hate. the muzzle. like WHY IT LOOKS SO UGLYYY LIKE SO UGLY like unless the artist GETS IT and is SEXY it looks awful. look at this

AWFUL. also like it made sense for when he was on the run and he had to make do and assemble a costume from what he had but like now hes sponsored by lex, get that man a goddamn new suit already please. anyways. 6/10.. like i said i like many elements from it but its still.. kinda ugly all together and depends A LOT on the artist.

three jokers

im torn on this one.. i think its a bit boring.. i dont rlly like the top part, it reminds me SOO much of that one tt issue where he beat the fuck out of tim while wearing a robin costume like i understad the implications of him wearing a costume thats similar to the robin blouse but im not a big fan.. also i prefer the brown leather jacket. its like not his worst costume by far but not the best.. like pretty basic?  i would say 6/10

NOW SOME AUS.

tiny titans & lil gotham

okay these two are like. pretty much the canon versions of robin and red hood HOWEVER they both have details that are different from the original version and DESERVE a mention. the curls on robin jason and jasons red gloves/belt are ICONIC. whoever designed them knew what they were about, so 10/10 best bapy jason.

arkham knight

does the person who designed this know how much theyve done for the lgbt community? i hope they do. i love.. a lot about this costume. i love the ears, i love how techno it is, i love the layers to it.. im.. not a big fan of the whole military thingy but i have to admit that applying it to the design itself is kind of neat.. i love the colors too and how.. practical it is while being. well. kinda dramatic? the whole bat aesthetic.. yeah. i love it. 9/10

arkham red hood

this one.. when u think about it the outlaw version is VEEERY similar to this one: the pants, the hood, the jacket eve. however i like this helmet so much more, i have a weakness for eyeless (??) helmets.. i like the little details of it as well, i remember that pic going around of it being held together with like. fuckign stitches and bandaids. legendary. i love this look, i would say 9+/10

injustice 2 jason

okay gonna go ahead and say it: not a big fan of the helmet. it looks like.. a bug? the lenses do not spark joy. this bitch has many styles and like toners etc and i will no rate them all. i think its a pretty basic design, not the best but not the worst either. like if it was an exam i would make them pass but make faces at what im reading like eeehhhgh. 7/10.

hag jason

middle one is like literally, on the outside and superficial level, just. his usual costume. the jacket and the grey kevlar and the bat. now the gloves are sexy as hell.. and in the whit ebackground one u can appreciate the under costume better and i really like it?? i just.. like the design. I HATE HOWEVER the bat helmet. WHY IS IT HOLLOW?? BITCH HELLO?? AND THE BATMAN SYMBOL DOES NOT MAKE SENSE! and i like things making sense!!!. we will not talk about jason in this book. like.. 8/10. maybe 9 if im feeling it.

hag jason 2: the hagger and the furious

hes just.. a little old man.. he cannot change this.. i like this design. i like seeing jason grow old. wish it wasnt in this context. my father rlly. 8/10

—-

am i forgetting any jays.. i wont do all animated robins because they all look the same and the one that doesnt i do not like. SO HERES my thoughts..

[snkpolls]

SnK S3E13 Poll Results (Manga Reader Version)

The poll closed with 539 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that these are the results of the manga reader poll. Anime only watchers are suggested not to read if you do not wish to be spoiled about certain events! Anime only viewers, click here to view your poll results!

RATE THE EPISODE 534 Responses

WIT kicked off the arc fantastically according to the viewers! This episode got overall positive reviews, with 95% of respondents giving it a 4 or 5 rating.

An ideal opening episode in my opinion!

Incredible start for possible the best season yet ♥

Awesome opening episode to set the stage for the arc to come. Pacing was just right, imo.

HYPE MY SOLDIERS

I think it was a great ep and did pretty well with the chapters it adapted. The dialogue was there and so were the scenes, the ending hyped what is coming so much so I'm already in love!

Lack of creavity when it come to the OP and ED visuals, but the ep overall was good.

The soundtrack slaps, voice acting is on point, and the animation proves to be very promising. Overall, it's a great episode to start off the second cour!

Awesome episode with awesome soundtrack.

One of the best episodes of the whole series, which was surprising.

RATE THE OP 533 Responses

Overall respondents liked the new Linked Horizon opening, which was a great summary of the current arc, but overall it fell flat as a song that most would be willing to label as their favorite.

OP depicts the upcoming battle well!

Great adaptation, just wish the opening was a little more original

It is the worst OP of all. The song is disappointing; it sounds like typical, boring song from random shonen series.

The opening definitely had some parts to it that felt recycled from previous openings, but I guess it's just Linked Horizon's way of linking them all together.

SPACE OPERATION RAINBOW!!!

To me it looks like they ran out of time to make an OP so they slapped a green filter on what they had done already.

RATE THE ED 530 Responses

The 104th-centered still-frame ED has some mixed reviews with most of the fandom sitting somewhere in the middle between loving and hating it. Respondents overall are leaning more toward the positive, however.

ED is perfect with the time skip just over the horizon

WE GOT A FEW NEW SAWANO TRACKS. HOW ARE YOU FEELING ABOUT THEM? 530 Responses

Well over half the fandom are already pumped for new music from the series’ composer Sawano Hiroyuki! A whopping 76% already feel that he’s killing it. 22% need more time to decide how they feel. A small sliver of respondents don’t really care for the OST. Who hurt you?

ost perfect as usual

It was good but at this point everything sounds like it's been reused a bunch of times. Hopefully we get some new great tracks later on..

Hyeh

The bassline in the new rendition of "Attack on Titan" (or however Sawano spells it) is amazing. I cannot wait for the S3 soundtrack to be released.

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING WAS YOUR FAVORITE MOMENT? 532 Responses

The scene with the Beast Titan appearing with his army of titans took 30% of the vote, with Levi attacking Reiner as a close second with 22% of the vote. 10% overall liked the entire episode, and 7% favorited the cliffhanger staredown. We can all agree the battle to come has us all hyped!

I repeated the scene where Reiner appears until the end of the episode tons of times already

Did they really had to skip Levi's frustrated expression after he failed to kill Reiner? It was my favorite moment…

Levi attacking Reiner and everything after that has become one of my favorite scenes in the series. Damn!

Nice Erwin Screentime, nice Levi nyooming behind Eren

Best girl makes her appearance

the last three minutes of the episode where the warriors show up was fucking amazing

ON SCALE OF ARMIN TO ERWIN, HOW GOOD ARE YOU AT GIVING ORDERS? 526 Responses

The majority of respondents relate to Armin’s timid nature a bit more when it comes to overall confidence in giving orders. Just a small 6.3% of you guys feel you have the charismatic swag that Erwin brings to the table.

I loved Armin giving orders politely.

How was Armin overcoming social anxiety a billion times cooler then eren flying over a 60m wall, becoming a titan and basically saving humanity.

ON A SCALE OF 1-5, HOW MUCH DO YOU WANT TO GO HORSEBACK SURFING? 528 Responses

This was in no way a serious question. But at an almost even split, 35.8% of voters would totally try their hand at horseback surfing, while 35.2% would never risk their life doing such a dangerous activity!

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE ANIMATION QUALITY IN PART TWO SO FAR? 529 Responses

Overall respondents are pleased with the animation in the first episode of the RtS arc, with 54% stating that it’s the best animation they’ve seen from the series yet. 42% feel it could be better, but is also not the worst. A small percentage don’t find the animation all that impressive.

I can’t believe how clean all of the animation is looking. SUPER impressed with the difference in art-style compared to season 1 as well.

The animation is on the highest level.

i miss the thick lines the show used to have

i really love the colour palette of this season and the op especially.

IMO the color tones on this episode could've been handled better, it was too gloomy on some scenes :(

The animation & art style was almost as good as season 2’s (which is one of my favorite pieces of animation of all time) but still lacked in some areas.

Looks like they went all out with budget on this season and I'm loving it

WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE CG COLOSSAL TITAN IN THE OPENING? 532 Responses

57% of respondents aren’t too upset about the GCI Colossal Titan in the opening and say they don’t mind either way. 35% aren’t happy at all with the decision to make the Colossal CGI, while a few actually find the effect super cool.

ON A SCALE OF 1-5, HOW EXCITED ARE YOU TO FINALLY SEE THIS ARC ANIMATED? 533 Responses

The overwhelming majority are extremely excited to see this arc animated after all these years. With its high levels of action and drama, it’s no surprise to us to see that the fandom is looking forward to getting this arc in an animated form!

IVE WAITED MORE THAN 2 YEARS FOR THIS IM NEVER BEEN SO FUCKING HYPED IN MY WHOLE LIFE

I've waited so many years that I'm satisfied and ready to pass now that my favorite arc is being animated

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE ADAPTATION OF RTS SO FAR? 532 Responses

67% of respondents are feeling very satisfied with the way the arc is unraveling in the anime, finding that it’s a very close adaptation of the original source material. 23% feel that it’s still too early to judge the adaptation properly, and a few less feel that the adaptation so far is somewhere between good and bad.

Fantastic adaptation.

Good pacing jumping right into the action, while staying faithful to the manga.

Overall very good, but could be a TAD better

I think the adaptation so far has been great, but I need to see how the action is handled before I say for sure whether it's well adapted or not.

It was ok.

It was very well-adapted! All the important details were there and nothing important seemed to be missing, which was something I was sad about in the last arc. It seems like everything I want will get covered.

How do we come back from there without breaking my heart?

PART 2 IS SLATED FOR 10 EPISODES. DO YOU THINK THIS WILL BE ENOUGH TO ADAPT THE ARC WELL? 531 Responses

Voters are confident that WIT knows what they’re doing by shortening the amount of episodes that will air for this action-heavy arc, with only ¼ of respondents feeling that they haven’t given themselves enough screen time to cover every last detail. 10% don’t want to say either way.

i was disappointed in knowing it was a 10 episode arc, but seeing the quality and taking into account that this is an action-heavy arc, i'm bouncing off of the walls to see what wit has underneath their sleeve. hopefully they don't ruin the best arc

one advantage of the short season is that they cant draw out the serum bowl for too long. God, that was a painful wait when the manga was dropping those chapters.

Really well done, the pacing in particular was great. After seeing it I was convinced 10 episodes was perfect for this arc. A 6-4 split is perfect.

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THE VERY SPOILERY OPENING? 532 Responses

61% of respondents agree that the opening, while spoilery, is a great summary and teaser of what is to come for those who only watch the anime. Without context, they can’t know what every last symbolic image in the opening means, after all! 23% of voters expressed distaste at how much WIT is spoiling the viewers, however. 9% aren’t even concerned about it.

The whole opening was just one big “fuck you” to people who don’t read the manga.

it only becomes obvious b/c manga readers keep pointing stuff out. Yes, the intros have always hinted at things but it goes so fast that I don’t think every person will know exactly what something means if they’re anime only.

The Opening is good representation of this phase of the story ending.

I don't get why people are making a big deal over the "spoilers" in the opening when they're not even anime-onlies themselves in the first place.

Man, it only seems spoilery for those of us who know what's coming. Anime onlies don't understand the context of the images, so they can't recognise them as spoilers unless it's directly identified as such! We gotta stop judging this stuff from the perspective of someone who already knows what's coming.

It's definitely not holding back on the indications that'll happen in the arc

HOW DID THE NEW ED MAKE YOU FEEL? 527 Responses

61% of manga readers felt nostalgic seeing the images of the 104th during their trainee days coupled with a somber song. 20% felt sad about the ending, and 15% were just disappointed with the entire thing.

Lazy ending.

WHAT DID YOU THINK ABOUT THE RED EYES ON THE TITANS? 533 Responses

Just over half of the fandom feel that the red-eyed pure titans was a cool aesthetic to add to show that they are under some form of control by a shifter. 33% feel it’s a cool addition, but not really necessary. 11% don’t care.

I was on board with the red eyes until the cart titan also had them. No longer made any sense.

I don't get why Pieck's eyes are red when she's not a mindless being controlled by Zeke…

Like the red eyes but why does Pieck have them too.

WHICH SCENE FROM THE PREVIEW ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? 530 Responses

Perhaps unsurprisingly, over half of the fandom is most hyped to see the Eren vs. Reiner showdown in Shiganshina. Although not far behind, 28% of respondents are excited about Erwin’s badass unhooding moment as he challenges Reiner.

THUNDER SPEARS FOR NEXT CHAPTER!!!!!!!!!!

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

Even though I totally know what will happen, the episode is written and directed in a way I still get goosebumps and forget I actually know what will happen. And the music, oh god. That's amazing. These two together have a really good effect.

I need the next one RIGHT NOW.

AAAAAHH!!!!

It was an introduction episode, so imo, it's just there to put the basis for the rest of the season. There was a good balance between the "emotionally charged" scenes and the more quiet ones, all this accompanied with an increasing tension in the background.

I wish theyd reanimated the scene of armin talking to eren about the opening instead of just reusing the animation from season 1.

that Zeke smile is like : hey there, i am here to euthanize you all. Love it !

I'm buying tickets into denial islaaand, bye, bye!

Airpipes. AIRPIPES. p.s. cracking soundtrack

Reiner has been enjoying himself some Marley protein, he extra swole now.

Armin was the MVP

PIECK!!!

I don't like the fact that WiT decided to spoil a lot. Some anime onlies already have guessed that Armin is going to be burned and then will become the next CT. So the serumbowl won't be as emotional and exciting for them anymore. I don't understand why WiT decided to do such thing. Don't they want anime-onlies to enjoy the show?

Exactly as expected you'll find a strange titan next to the beasty

I love Mikasa’s improved design and hope they show more of her working in a team like the manga. Focusing on the mission ect without pandering

RIP nameless soldier killed by Reiner.

Very happy to get a glimpse at best girl Pieck

Really no questions about our exactly right girl in this poll ? I am dissapointed :/

Watching this episode is bringing back all the suspense and awe I felt when I read this part in the manga. What a treat to be able to relive it!

They did a great job at keeping the tension and the "well shit everything's about to go wrong" from chapters 73 and 74, and managed to make the explosion at the end worth it, despite the fact I still think Reiner's continued survival throughout the arc is stupid and wish the anime had changed it so it'd be more believable, but here we are.

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 514 Responses

Thank you to everyone who participated! We’ll see you again in a few days!

[musicofthenightphantomoftheopera]

Dear Voltron Fandom (an open letter)

Dear Voltron Fandom,

You don’t know me, but I know you. Before I get into this, allow me to introduce myself so I’m not a stranger. My name is Paiton. I’m 19 years old, and I have high functioning autism, and the character I relate to and love the most is Pidge. I have traversed through many a fandom in my life so far. From Avatar:The Last Airbender, to Sailor Moon, Steven Universe, Disney, you name it! All of these fandoms are loving and wonderful in their own way. However, every fandom has a dark side; It’s just the nature of fandoms, unfortunately. Despite that, I was able to look past that, and be proud to be a part of them! But NEVER have I EVER been more ashamed of being in a fandom when I got dragged into Voltron. Before that, I heard rumors of how toxic the fandom was and all of the crazy stunts some fans tried to pull in order to get what they wanted into the show. So, I tried to avoid the show and its fandom like the plague at all costs.Two months went by and my curiosity got the best of me and I decided to check out the show just to see what all the fuss was about. Turns out I really liked the show and Pidge quickly became my favorite! Hell, I even started a Pidge Ita Bag; just added the first charm to it a couple of days ago! I started out just keeping to myself on my quiet little tumblr blog just reblogging fan art and fics as well as interesting theories and talking to my friends about it. And I can’t forget about buying Voltron fan swag! All was well, despite the occasional bits popping up about the latest fandom disasters. That is up until quite recently. I thought I had seen it all when I had to fight to defend Sailor Moon fans that were being bashed for liking Sailor Moon Crystal or for getting into Sailor Moon in general because of Crystal. I thought I had seen it all when I saw SOULESS Steven Universe “fans” telling an artist to kill herself for drawing Rose Quartz skinny. I thought I had seen it all when I saw the Brony fandom in general. But this....sending death threats to the voice actors and their families, blackmailing the creators in order yo make Klance canon, and a rumor that some antis were burning fanart?! This is absolutely UNACCEPTABLE! To those who participated in ANY of these horrible actions or any other crimes against the fandom, you ought to be ASHAMED of yourselves! Your actions are SHAMEFUL and you should /feel/ ASHAMED. People like you are a disgrace to this and every other fandom out there. You are the reason why the Voltron fandom has such a bad reputation. Now for the sake of this not being me dragging the voltron fandom for the entirety of however long this is going to be, I’m going to play devil’s advocate for a minute or two. I know that not everyone in the Voltron fandom is bad. Hell, my best friend is a Klance shipper and a Lance fangirl and she’s one of the chillest Voltron fans I know! And you want your ships to be canon, I get it. Every fan wants their ship to be canon, weather its a strait, or LGBTQ+ ship. We need more LGBTQ+ representation in...well, pretty much everything really. And it is coming. Its getting there, but  its gradual and you have to be patient! “Patience yields focus” , in the immortal words of our beloved Space Dad. But I also understand that fandoms can change things as well. The first example that comes to mind is Kim Possible if any of you reading this are old enough to remember. When Kim and Ron finally got together in the movie that was supposed to be the series finale, the fans flipped every last crumb of their shit and wrote in, demanding another season. And another season they got, ending with Kim and Ron graduating high school. So fandoms /can/ change things, but this.... Blackmail, death threats, is NOT the way to do it! If anything, stuff like that will steer people away from creating representation just because of the sheer mass hysteria it causes within fandoms! Its the toxic people in the Voltron fandom that pull this sort of stuff that steered me away from the show in the first place. To the toxic people in the Voltron fandom who call themselves proud members of the community. You know who you are. I am calling all of you out. You are not fans. You are bullies. Plain and simple. The kind that beat up the little kid with glasses and stuff them in a locker for being a nerd. The kind that steals lunch money in the cafeteria when the teacher isn’t looking. The kind that spread awful rumors about that shy little girl that likes anime, telling her that nobody would care if she died, only worse. You are the very same kind of bullies that I tried to get away from by joining fandoms (supposedly an accepting environment for people who are different and like the same stuff) in the first place. Now I am the kind of person that doesn’t have a temper. However, stuff like this is one of the very few things that get me righteously pissed off. But I don’t yell, or scream, or punch a wall. Instead, I channel that anger into fuel I can use for something else. Which is what made me write this open letter to you, the Voltron fandom. Like I said earlier, not everyone in the Voltron fandom is bad. To all of those that just enjoy the show and respect other people’s ships, or don’t give a dam about ships at all. thank you for being decent human beings and trying to clean up the mess these toxic, souless antis made of our fandom. After seeing all of this I can tell you that I am officially 1000% DONE with this bull. So I am calling the antis out. Consider this a reality check for ALL of you. This is a fucking CARTOON. The people you are shipping so feverishly together are fictional characters. Underline the word “Fictional” as in “not real”. At the end of the day, they are just a bunch of lines and colors moving frame by frame and voiced by real human beings with feelings. They are not above emotions like some of you idiots think they are. When are you going to get it through your tiny brain cases you call heads that how you are acting is childish, immature, and just plain sadistic?! I want to get something strait right now. I do not hate the voltron fandom, not at all. I hate what its become. These horrible antis and haters and toxic people are infecting the fandom like a deadly disease; like a fast spreading plague that causes the slow and painful death of its victum. However, unlike the real Black Plague, there is a cure! And a contagious one at that! So I’m sending out a call to action to every decent human being in the fandom! Those who are here just to enjoy the show for what it is with other people and have a good time, the older fans who got into Voltron: Legendary Defenders because they grew up with the older versions, the Multishippers, those who are respectful of other people’s ships,, or don’t give a dam about shipping at all, as well as those who keep their accounts as safe spaces for all fans. Do your girl a solid and help make the Voltron fandom a better place. Please, be a voice for good. If you see a fan getting harassed by an anti, just politely shut them down. Don’t go full on Leroy Jenkins and fight back, don’t feed the trolls, guys! Just politely tell them to back off and ignore them after that. Then, turn around and try to cheer up the person who got harassed! Share your favorite fan art pieces with them or give them fic recommendations! Who knows, you just might make a new friend! If you see someone you follow on any social media platform doing any of the bullshit I’ve previously mentioned earlier, unfollow them immediately. You don’t need that kind of negativity in your life and neither does anybody else. Let your followers know that your account is a safe space for all decent Voltron fans to geek out and that there is a ZERO TOLERANCE policy for antis. If someone disagrees with you on your ship or theory, politely ask them to explain their reasoning in a civil manner. Get a dialogue going so the whole thing doesn’t turn into an all out screaming match. It can be done, people! It is possible! It just takes a little effort. It may take some time, hard work, blood, sweat, and tears, but I beleive we can fix the fandom if we all work together.  Now I also want to take a moment to send a message. To the voice actors of Voltron; Bex taylor Klaus (My Queen), Jeremy Shada, Steven Yeun, Josh Keiton, Kimberly Brooks, Tyler Labine, Rhys Darby, and A.J. Locascio. To the Co-Creators of Voltron; Joaquim Dos Santos and Lauren Montgomery. I am not apologizing for the actions of the toxic part of the fandom (that’s a mess they gotta clean up themselves), but I am speaking for the good part of the fandom and myself when I say that we apologize for what these souless people have put you through. Nobody should ever have to go through that just some people want a small sense of validation in their ship being canon. We love all of you and we hope that you can find it in your hearts to give the fandom a chance to redeem itself. I wrote this in hopes of waking some people up and start to to change things for the better. At least that’s what I hope will come of this rant that I wrote all in one sitting at 4 am. Just know that we all love and respect you and I am going to try my hardest to help change this fandom for the better with the help of my friends and followers, as well as the rest of the fandom that actually has a soul and a conscience. We are going to try and remind everyone that we are all on the same side. We all love the same show and the same characters and the same story. After all, we’re all made up of the same cosmic dust.

signed,

Paiton

[coleh0le]

Queer Eye: Season 2

Season 2 of Queer Eye is now streaming on Netflix and it is your civil duty to watch it and if you don’t watch it you’re homophobic. Just kidding I’m sorry for saying that yikes. I’m only just now starting episode two, but I’m so excited to see my boys back at it again. The first episode had me SOBBING because it had to do specifically with moms of gay sons and religion. 

Antoni is such a hot piece of ass I’m completely and totally in love with him and his boy-ish nature and his kind wholesome values oh my god. Antoni is my #1. I know he’s in a relationship with some dude that probably doesn’t appreciate him in the ways I do....... but like I get so jealous FOR his boyfriend when he’s touching on Tan. But I guess that’s none of my bidness. I’m really just jealous that Antoni is taken. 

Jonathan is an incredible human being who I could spend every minute of every day with. (well no maybe like a short nap every few hours) He’s such a joy. I’ve never seen a man be so true to himself and his passions. I love watching him because he gives NO fucks about any kind of gender roles. He does and says and is exactly what he wants. He always inspires me to be a little more gay and true to myself, no matter what people I'm around. I love him so much for that. 

Tan is the cunning fashion gay that we all want him to be. A big moment for Tan was in season one when they did the Indian app developer guy. Tan was able to talk with him on a real level about the very high expectations that Indian parents often place on their children, and the pressure of it all. Tan lived/lives it too. I feel like it was very important for the app developer to know one of them really understood the struggle first hand. 

Karamo is GORGEOUS and has a ton of heart and swag. I still don’t fully understand the thought process behind his title within the Fab 5. I think that he and his title, which is called “Culture”, needs to be complexly rebranded. He is an extremely VITAL part of the team, and I don’t think that calling him “Culture” is really serving him in a way that it could be. But, what he has done is he’s always just played to his strengths, and it’s working!!!! I see him as the therapist of the group. He talks to people on a real level and really helps them with whatever they're going through. He forces them our of their comfort zones, and faces their issues head on. Maybe instead of being called Culture, he could be called like “Personal Development”, or something more along the lines of something like a life coach. One of my favorite things about Karamo is that he’s not afraid to share his own experiences and downfalls, in order to help someone else. 

Bobby does alright with his job. 

Okay so that’s the run down of my fab 5 babes. This show is so important to me... as I’m sure it is to a lot of other queer people as well. My wish is that straight people also watch, and are introduced, or re-introduced, to an abundance of positive connotations with the queer community.

[pro-hearts-pro-minds]

PHOTO: COURTESY OF KELSEY MILLER. There’s an old diet trick — you might have seen it in films — where you cover the refrigerator in sticky notes, reminding you that “Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels!” and “A moment on the lips, forever on the hips!” or simply, “Do NOT open this!” Sometimes you might amplify these helpful hints with photos of either very fat people or very thin people, depending on which makes you feel worse about yourself. Basically, you taught your fridge to fat-shame you. I tried it, obviously. And it was super effective at making me feel like a piece of shit every time I opened the fridge. But I still opened the fridge. Anyway, it didn’t make much difference because the sticky notes never lasted long. The only thing worse than being shamed by an appliance is being humiliated when your visiting friend goes to grab a soda, only to encounter an all-caps reminder that, “NO ONE WILL EVER LOVE YOU!” It’s been years now since I tried any diet trick, having given up dieting and learning intuitive eating. It took a lot of practise and professional help to undo the damage I’d done to my body and brain with things like fridge-shaming. In fact, it still takes practise, and the old struggles sometimes resurface, but for the most part, I eat normally. I can hardly believe it, but it’s true. I can look at all the foods in my fridge as neutral and allowed. But when it comes to my freezer, that’s a different story. Ice cream, damn it. Every dieter has an internalized bad-food list, and ice cream is usually on it. For me, it was right at the top — the most forbidden fruit. Growing up, I’d sneak scoops out of my mom’s Häagen-Daz in the middle of the night. I’d check the freezer for it during babysitting gigs, trying (and failing) to shave off only discreet little bites. Truly, it would take days to fully explain just how large a role ice cream played in my emotional development. There is an entire chapter in my memoir devoted to it, and I actually had the gall to title it: “Ice Cream, Revisited.” By the time the book came out in January, I thought I was over it. I had to be! When something’s in a memoir, that means it’s a memory, all processed and packed away. But sometime in March, when the weather turned just a little bit warmer, I started noticing myself noticing ice cream, everywhere. I noticed it at the supermarket, the tubs by the check-out at my corner deli, and the artisanal scoop shop standing exactly eleven feet from my subway stop. So, I’d buy myself a cone for the walk home — no big deal. Giving yourself permission to eat is a cornerstone of intuitive eating, the point being that restriction only creates more anxiety around food. In the early stages, each time I found myself stressing over mashed potatoes, eating quickly and far past the point of fullness, I knew to pause and recognise what was going on: I was hoarding mashed potatoes like my old diet self, who saw all starch as the enemy. Sometimes it was as simple as reminding myself, “You have full permission to eat mashed potatoes” and sometimes it took more effort. But eventually, my brain got the message and I chilled out with potatoes. With ice cream, evidently, my brain had zero chill. The warmer it got, the fuller my freezer. By July, I’d find myself impulse buying tubs once or twice a week. On the one hand, it made sense. It was summer, when you’re supposed to eat ice cream. But the funny thing was, I wasn’t eating it nearly as much as I was buying it. (My boyfriend noticed this too, constantly reorganising the freezer around my growing collection of mostly full pots). I had some after dinner a few nights a week or sometimes in the afternoon when that sweet-snack craving hit. Still, I had an ice-cream problem. I wasn’t bingeing but my brain was: constantly weighing the pros and cons of having a bowl, envisioning cartoonish fat grams clogging up my arteries, and panicking over the choice between Cookies & Cream and Peanut-Butter Chip or, fuck it, should I just buy both? One late-summer morning, I was sitting at my desk at home, working on my laptop, when my brain piped up: “Should I eat ice cream after lunch? I don’t like the flavours we have. Ooh, does any place around here deliver ice cream?” I’d had it. I tried the old trick of talking back to my brain: “You know you have full permission to eat ice cream, right? Right?” Nothing. It couldn’t hear me over all that chatter. That’s when I remembered the sticky notes. I opened my desk drawer, and pulled out an old stack of Post-Its. I chose a brightly colored pen and wrote: You have full permission to eat ice cream! I went to the freezer and counted six pints. So, I wrote out five more Post-It notes: Anytime you want! Whenever! This is totally allowed. =) No Big Deal Now, later, today, tomorrow, never — whenever!

I placed one on the lid of each pint. Then, I stared down into the freezer for 10 full seconds. Next, I whipped out my phone, opening Word Swag, an app that lets you make your own version of those inspirational text-on-image photos (I guess so you can post an Instagram photo of yourself on holiday with the phrase, “not all who wander are lost” across your face). Instead, I found a picture of an ice cream cone and reiterated one of my own inspirational messages: Anytime you want. I set it as my phone background. If my brain couldn’t hear me, maybe it could see. I’d taken the old diet trick and flipped it inside out: not a glaring keep-out sign, but an open, casual invitation. A little cheesy and self-helpy? Maybe, but oh who the hell cared? I had spent my whole life overthinking ice cream, trying to puzzle it out like the riddle of the sphinx, rather than just eating it or not eating it — you know, like food. I was not going to waste one more second of my life worrying over this nonsense when there are infinitely more important things to worry about. Not to mention the fact that there was so much in my life to not worry about, but things to celebrate, things to enjoy, things to relish and be grateful for. What might my life look like if I could use all this energy to focus on those things instead of dessert? This was an all-out permission assault. That first day, the change was minimal. I had some ice cream after dinner, and while it wasn’t an anxiety free experience, I did notice the knot in my chest soften just a bit when I saw those cheery Post-Its looking up at me when I took the pint out, and again when I put it back. (My boyfriend noticed the change too, asking what was up with all the signage in our freezer. “IT HELPS ME,” I kindly explained.) And, in the days and weeks that followed, it did. Each time I opened the freezer, I got a little more permission. I didn’t have to wait for an ice-cream urge to hit. I saw it every time I looked at my phone; my brain was barraged with both images of ice cream and the full, unwavering promise that it wasn’t going anywhere and I was 100% allowed to have it. My ice-cream shopping habit slowed down. The pint collection dwindled from six to two or three. I noticed myself not noticing the proximity of the artisanal scoop shop every time I went to the subway. I still ate ice cream, maybe a little less. I’m not sure how much really, because here’s the real miracle: I was thinking about it a lot less. It worked. No surprise twists here. The permission assault just worked. For the first time in my life, the decision to eat ice cream is simple: Do I want it? Will it satisfy me? Okay, let’s have some. It’s gone from advanced calculus to advanced common sense. Sometimes I do want it and it will satisfy me, but my brain jumps in with a reminder: Oh but I’m going to that restaurant that serves my favorite sundae later. So, maybe I’ll hold off so I can really enjoy that one. And then it shuts the hell up. No counter-arguments, no doomsday visions of chocolate-covered fat grams. It’s just not that important. That’s the ultimate message here. It might not sound as peppy as, “Anytime you want!” But that’s what my brain really needed to hear: Ice cream is just not that important. Now that the months have turned cooler, I’ve lost further interest in ice cream. To be clear, I don’t mean to say that I never eat it and never will again, and surprise, Post-Its are the world’s most effective dieting tool. Post-Its didn’t take away my taste for ice cream, but they helped take away my ice-cream obsession. I’m not eating it very much now, not because I’ve conquered it with an iron will to abstain — but because it’s cold out. I don’t feel like it. This is normal. I’m becoming more normal. And this shiny new mundanity is one of the things I am so damn grateful for. 

[weapon13whitefang]

Liz Talks TWD 8x01 [Possible Spoilers]

So I went back and rewatched S08E01 and here are my few opinions on some things that caught my eye or that went through my mind. Keep in mind, these thoughts will be all over the place because I have so many things in my head.

But before I really get into that, let me just say that – for the 100th episode – I wasn’t too impressed. Now that’s not to say this was a bad episode. No as a story piece it was pretty good. It set up the top half of TWD and seeing all these different factions come together was needed. My favorite line was “I got your back” and the guy goes “you just met me” (or something like that) and I was happy because THAT is an important message in the show. Right next to “It’s not about you”.

And why is that important? Because later – in the next episode preview – we see Tara say “we have a job to do” and Jesus goes “we’re not here for revenge”. Each character has a motivation for why they’re fighting Negan. Whether to protect family, themselves, the future or whatever. And each fraction – Kingdom, Alexander, and Hilltop – have a different person they stand for (again either for themselves or for Maggie or Ezekiel or Rick). And hell some of them don’t even know what they’re fighting for, but they’re there and they’re gonna fight.

This season is called All Out War. A war doesn’t have to be just about what’s happening physically. In fact, a war can also mean what’s going on inside ones self. When people go to war, they start out one way. In the beginning of a war you see boys. By the end of a war, you see men with troubled or peaceful faces. War happens to the body and the mind as much as on a battlefield and I think that’s a big thing to keep in mind for this season and for each character; what is their own war and how is it going?

But anyway, the reason I wasn’t that impressed with this episode is that I was… Bored. Like the first half of the episode, until they drove the vehicles to the Savior Compound, I was bored. Because as someone who writes scripts and who studied scripts and film, I understand what’s going on and I just find it frustrating. What’s happening is the setup. We are setting up the season. We are setting up what’s going on and whose with us. We have three fractions vs one giant fraction. Rick and Maggie and Ezekiel’s team VS Negan’s team. We have the three fraction coming together and meeting for the first time and it’s one of those “hi nice to meet you this is awkward but I guess we’re partners” moments one might feel in high school or college when you have to partner up with someone you’ve never once talked to or even paid attention to. It’s awkward and uncertain… But this time you’re partners to survive in an apocalyptic world war of survival… No pressure.

So we have this set up happening… And that’s so boring. I’m not saying it isn’t needed! By God no, it’s needed. We can’t just suddenly be standing in the middle of the battlefield with Rick and Maggie and Ezekiel screaming orders while Negan is laughing and yelling about his dick (btw that scene was stupid but I laughed a little because JDM gets all the stupid lines) as he swings Lucille around. I mean I get that… They could do that but it wouldn’t work as well and all the crazy shit happening at once could leave people just as confused as it not happening at all.

But here’s the thing… They’ve been setting up this war since the beginning of Season 7 with Abraham and Glenn’s death. And it was topped off with Sasha’s death at the end of last season and Shiva coming into save Rick and Carl. I mean we’ve been ready for this war since season seven… More build up is… It’s kind of getting ridiculous at this point. It’s frustrating because I REALLY DO GET WHAT THEY’RE DOING but I do not like it because I’m getting tired of all this stacking and building. I love this shit but after a whole goddamn season of it, I’m just… I’m done.

But that said, I get it and I’m like “fine, fine okay whatever” right now. And when we see Negan step out of the Savior compound, I wasn’t as bored. Because now we were getting something fun. Negan’s swagger wasn’t as… Swag. He actually was slowly showing frustration because his call out plan didn’t work. Gregory didn’t come through because everyone had fallen behind Maggie (for the most part anyway) and Jesus. Gregory (Fuck this motherfucker by the way) was a useless trump card for Simon and Negan… Same with Eugene and Sasha last season. Negan is losing his trump cards slowly. Which THAT I found fascinating and fun to watch. Little by little he’s getting picked away.

Anyway, my main thought on this episode – my overall feel – is that it could’ve given us a lot more. I get building up the theme and the season. I get that they’re waiting to give us something big to chomp down on. But I need them to at least give me some meat on this pile of ribs because a girl can only lick a bone for so long you know? That’s my frustration with it. Not the episode itself. Not the storytelling device that it is. Just the lack of more.

And a lot of that might be that it’s the 100th episode. Episode 1 gave more than the 100th and that’s just kinda like “wtf”. Yes I know it was a brand new show back then. But that’s an excuse more than anything to me. I’ve seen this show give us amazing over the line episodes. This was a chance to do that while also setting up the season. They could’ve used next weeks episode as the kind of extra build up. That would’ve been more satisfying for me personally. You can still build up without taking away from the hype.

That said, I don’t hate this episode at all. The first part bored me but overall I liked seeing the visions of Old Man Rick (I don’t wanna call it future Rick or daydream Rick or whatever because that whole set up didn’t feel like a daydream or future view but more like a hallucination but not… So I’m just calling it a vision and Old Man Rick). I’m also laughing because people pointed out that older Judith���s eyes went blue from the brown they were when she was a baby and also wondering if that’s because Rick’s eyes are blue and Shane’s eyes were dark brown and Lori’s eyes were a very light brown and this is part of Rick’s vision that Judith is fully his child instead of falling on that belief that she’s Shane’s daughter. Either way, it made me kind of laugh but also go hmm.

I also liked the shot for shot image of Carl mimicking Rick in Season 1 and then Rick turning to see a young woman zombie with her face ripped open and wearing a light bathrobe and looking just like Summer – the little girl zombie Rick kills in the first season that was played by Addy Miller – only older. Was curious and looked her up on Twitter and sure enough, she’s the walker we see walking to Rick and Carl. Very very nice touch and that made me grin!

Eugene getting cut off was kind of deserved. I mean I believe he’s just grabbing information and playing a part because, hey, Eugene is good at that kind of shit like he did against Abe and his old crew. But I still think he’s being a real big piece of shit coward and needs to be SIT THE FUCK DOWN from time to time.

So no I didn’t hate this episode. Just got a bit frustrated with it.

Now for some fun little TD shit because I gotta nudge the water sometimes. I’ll probably do this any chance I can. Because I like TDers. Most of them have been nice to me and I find their metas fascinating sometimes.

Ticking clock noise in this episode and in next weeks episode and lots and lots of clocks.

Here’s a little fun nudges I wrote awhile back dealing with the trailer that I think is important for us to note. This is talking about the trailer In the trailer, we have the beating of an instrument in a sort of tribal-like setup. I found out from a friend – who is more musically trained than I am – that the instrument is most likely what is called a clave. AKA those wooden stick instruments a music teacher gives young kids to teach them how to learn music rhythm, to keep a beat. Since music is important, I decided to look into the clave. I did some research. Probably not needed and probably a bit excessive, but blame the scriptwriter in me. I found a blog that talks heavily about the clave and the first thing it discusses – besides telling us that the clave looks like a hot dog without the bun… So a hot dog – is that the clave “also refers to the 2/3 or 3/2 rhythmic glue that holds all the different polyrhythms together. You hear the rhythmic pattern and sound in all Cuban music, most Puerto Rican salsa, and a great deal of African music as well… The hardwood sticks have a sharp, penetrating sound that can be heard even over a large orchestra of loud, blazing horns.” (x) I found this information fascinating. As I said, trailer music I number one on the list of three important things in a trailer. That is because music – as well known – sets a mood. It sets a rhythm for the chosen images and cut-list of the trailer. A good example of how music can set a trailer is the infamous “Scary Mary” trailer (x) that can be found on Youtube – turning Mary Poppins from the whimsical musical and into a horror film. Simply by changing the music, they had an outline for a way to choose clips and make it seem that the classic Disney film Mary Poppins was instead a horror thriller. It’s still the same story, but the change in music makes it a whole other level of cinematography. That in mind, why the clave for this trailer? My thoughts go first back to the line “…The hardwood sticks have a sharp, penetrating sound that can be heard even over a large orchestra of loud, blazing horns.” Which is true. From 0:41 to 2:14 of the AMC posted trailer (x) we can hear the clave being played alone. No other instrument is with it. The music is the only clave’s being beaten to different rhythms to create a single sound/song. As rick begins to talk at 2:14, the clave’s – even muted, are not blocked by Rick’s speech. From 2:14 to 3:04, Rick’s speech is undertoned by the clave’s… This is important. This music – this instrument that can even be heard over larger sounds and can penetrate through it all – was chosen for a reason. What reason? Well, in my personal opinion, because it sounds like a clock and it sets up a feeling of anxiety. Also, according to my research and stated in the website above, the clave was created when slaves – who missed music – took two cuban carved pegs – pegs made to hold the ship together since nails were very expensive back in the late 1400s – and beat them together and discovered their sharp sound. “The Aricans started fashioning these pegs into smooth, round sticks that could be used as rhythm instruments.” (x). This sound also – to me – gives the whole things a sort of tribal feel. It makes me think I’m off running with a tribe. It’s like I’m on a hunt… And that’s what is happening. There is a hunt going on. Negan vs Rick. I mentioned that the clave also sounds like clocks. Like clocks ticking away. This show does love its time and clock. A ticking of a clock symbolizes many things. In media, it is often like that old saying “the clock is ticking”, meaning “time is running out”. This could be someones clock is ticking away to their death. A good example I like to use is ALL DOGS GO TO HEAVEN and how Charlie the Dog has a watch that represents his time on earth and he’s told his watch has stopped and meant his time is up. The clock stopped ticking for Glenn and he was eventually lost… Now it doesn’t all mean bad. “The clock is ticking” is also a saying that yes, your time is up. But that doesn’t mean your time is up in a bad sense. It could also symbolize an approach of someone or something. And since season 8 is supposed to be about the war with the Saviors (so it seems anyway), then the ticking clock sound can mean the time of approach of the war. A ticking away of a clock is also used in media to give narrative tension. To me – personally – we do get this. There’s something tensing about hearing the clave’s beat away like a clock. Like we’re Captain Hook and we hear the clock of the crocodile coming to get us. A post by Julie Eshbaugh gave the best example of explaining this tension. She said the ticking of a clock creating tension is a simple concept. And the concept is that “a certain task must be completed by a certain deadline or the character will fail and suffer the consequences of that failure… The addition of a ticking clock instantly creates increased tension. A challenge may feel relatively easy to overcome if time is not an issue. But take away the luxury of unlimited time and you immediately turn up the heat on your characters.” (x) Team Family is out of time. Negan has rallied together his Saviors and rallied Jadis with her Scavengers (a union that may have its own ticking clock hanging over it; a ticking bomb clock with how bull-headed Jadis and Negan seem to be just from their last seen exchange) and they have to rally together their plan of attack or risk their loss.  The clock is ticking on the approach – on the drop – of the war.Now as for that little bit of Team Defiance / Team Delusional in me that likes to peak out? Well, maybe this is the ticking – the final tick-tock – of Beth’s approach to team Family. She’s been linked with clocks and time before. Wouldn’t surprise me if this ticking clock was Beth’s clock ticking over team family… But again, that’s just me being a speculator.

The Weird Al song made me so confused/baffled, but @dynamicsymmetry pointed out how it’s interesting they used a Weird Al Song for a background song. Because a Weird Al song is a cover and a distorted version of an original song. Another One Rides the Bus is a parody of Another One Bites The Dust. He takes the songs and basically rewrites them with a new feel. The parody song resembles the original but it’s been altered to give a whole new mood. And to me, that’s kind of a good example of what they did with WHAWGO because they gave us this feel of a funeral for Beth but the feel was wrong because it was actually supposed to be a feel for Tyreese. See what I mean? Now of course not all music relates to Beth but Sunny pointing that out made me kinda pause and nod because yeah lol

Carl left a sorry note. Which can also be a nudge to Beth wanting to leave a Thank You note at the funeral home.

Carl talking about them needing hope because without it everything else isn’t enough. And I find it fascinating that it’s CARL that’s talking about Hope while driving around in the damn Phoenix van. I once said I think Carl is going to have a hand in finding Beth again and I still believe that if she’s gonna come back y'all.

[sweetpeatrashxo]

my bully but yet my lover: E.C

I feel like making one that wasn’t Carl but is Ethan seems more fun cause well who does wanna bit of Ethan Cutkosky cause why the fuck no gotta have the boy in this. Also no hate to Ethan just in this he is a dick but I know he is a really nice guy.

WARNING: BULLYING, SELFHARM AND ALL THAT IF THIS ISN’T IN YOUR COMFORT ZONE PLEASE DON’T READ FOR YOUR OWN SAKE. IF YOU NEED SOMEONE TO TALK TO PLEASE DON’T HESITATE TO MESSAGE ME CAUSE I DON’T WANT ANYONE TO HARM THEMSELVES.

You and Ethan have been what they call ‘enemies with feelings’, Ethan has bullied you for quite some time, he ‘hated’ you and you disliked him. You both use to best friends but apparently when you two got to middle school you were up with the ‘swag’ and he ditched you, then bullied you. Somedays you want to knock some sense into him but other days you just wanna hold him and cry your heart out, but you knew you couldn’t so you had to deal with your problems alone. It was currently 8 in the morning, you were getting ready for school, you didn’t wanna go. Well if it isn’t obvious enough you didn’t wanna face Ethan again, well like he has been, you want him to change back and well be nice and not be an absolute dick. You wore ripped jeans, you Nirvana t-shirt and a black jacket to cover well you fresh cuts, you hated life tbh. You wanted to leave but you didn’t want to leave your mom devastated so you stayed for her.

You tied you shoes, threw your hair up into a messy bun, then left your room.You looked back thinking ‘Maybe I can fake sick. But I’ve made it this far so I guess I’ll go.’ You walked into the kitchen and grabbed you lunch, your mom left you a note that said the same thing every day ‘Have a lovely day sweetie, I’ll see you tonight.’ But you know you wouldn’t see her cause when you get home, you go straight back to your room. You walked out the door of the house making sure you locked it, you walked down the street, you heard the laugh you know too well.

It was Ethan, you tried hurrying your pace, you keep your head down trying to avoid his sight. He yelled “Oh trying to run now are we Y/N. Might wanna run faster might lose some of that weight on you slut.” You tried ignoring him, but the fact he was your best friend cut deeper, you kept walking faster but he still managed to get in hearing distance of you. You felt tears coming up threatening to leave your eyes, you didn’t wanna cry today, not today. Ethan yelled out “Oh come on Y/N, come here come talk to me what’s wrong?.” He put his arm on you, then laughed “Jokes.” Then shoved you, which made you fall onto the grass beside you, he got in your face and said “Oh look at you. Fucking usesless I swear, kill yourself bitch.” You couldn’t stop the tears at this point you yelled “What the fuck Ethan, what the actual fuck. Why did you start, what the fuck did I do to make you hate me this much. Why do you have to fuck up everything?”

He laughed “Cause it amuses me.” You screamed “But the fucked up thing is. I still fucking love you I still have a fucking crush on you even tho you’re an absolute cunt.” He looked at you then turned away “Yeah whatever loser.” Then walked off, you couldn’t stop the tears that were falling out of your eyes. You wanted then to stop but they wouldn’t, you eventually calmed down, you stood up brushed yourself off, wiped the left over tears off your face and continued to walk to school like there wasn’t anything wrong. You walked into the gates and felt something off, like something isn’t right. Yeah it was loud and the same as usual, but you couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong with the school today. You walked to your locker, normally Ethan stood beside it waiting to kick you or push you over but he wasn’t there today.

You looked around for him but he wasn’t anywhere in eyesight, so you just grabbed you book for first and second class then headed to your first class which was English, you and Ethan had all the same classes so he was bound to be in this one. You walked in to see Ethan in his normal seat, he looked up at you but then put his head back down, what was wrong with him? Why isn’t he saying to hurt your feelings. You sat down in your seat waiting for him to make a comment about you but nothing was said, even when his friends came in he didn’t say a word to you nor them, he is oddly quiet, it’s weird. The lesson was boring, all you did was write an Essay on your favorite band, which to you was extremely easy. Ethan had still made no comment towards you, he was talking to his friends but he wasn’t as loud as he normally is. The bell rang and you headed to your second class which was music, you were in Ethan’s eyesight but still not another word came out of his mouth. Today in music your class had a practical lesson, so you walked into the room your teacher always separated for you. He knew how you felt confident ways and well what was happening with Ethan.

Your teacher walked in and said “Hey Y/N, has Ethan said anything at school to you today?” You shook your head “No, not since the incident before school today.” You explained what happened before school, he nodded “I see, that explains why he is quiet, and well only playing guitar today and staring at this door.” You nodded as your teacher left the room, leaving you to practice you piece for your assignment that was due next week, you heard a slight knock on the door, you said “Yes?” Ethan opened the door, you looked at him wide eyed as he closed the door behind him. He quietly said “Y/N, I’m. I’m sorry.” You managed to get words out of your mouth “Why Ethan, why’d you do this?” He was still quiet “Because in middle school I thought you were too cool for me, and well, I. Um.” You spat out “Say it.” He sighed “I felt the same way as you did, so I destroyed our friendship so I didn’t have to tell you. I’ve always wanted you, but I didn’t want these feelings, so I tried getting rid of them, but it didn’t work. Because I love you Y/N, I know I’m an ass, but believe me I didn’t mean a word I ever said to you. I’ve hated myself every day for it, mom and dad always ask about you. And I have to resist the urge of crying cause I hurt you so bad.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes “But Ethan, why didn’t you just tell me.” He cried “Cause I didn’t know how, I wanted to. But my mouth could never form words to tell you. I couldn’t tell you that you are so fucking beautiful, that I want you in my arms when I fall asleep and when I wake up. I couldn’t just tell you, that even when you cry you are still beautiful.” Tears fell down his face as he continued “I couldn’t tell you my parents and my friends were trying to get me to stop and get with you. It was so hard to act tough when all I wanted to do was pull you close and let you cry into my chest.” You felt tears fall “I. I’m speechless E.” He smiled “You called me E. Omg.” You laughed “Come here I need a Cutkosky hug.” He walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you. It felt warm and loving, like it use to be. You cried into his chest, you mumbled “I love you E, even if you were an asshole for the last year of my life.” He smiled “I love you too. I’m gonna fix this ok. I’m gonna make us better, best friends again.” You smiled “You don’t need to fix it, you already did. We’re the hopeless two again.” He laughed “Except your not mine.” You smiled “Then make me be yours” He took a deep breath “Y/N Y/L/N, I know I’m a massive dick, I know I fucked up a lot but will you take the honor of letting me show you off as my girlfriend?” You smiled into his chest “Yes E.”

Writing this actually broke my heart and made it warm again. But I hope you lot like it!!!!

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

The Askblog/Onceler Fandom: A Playlist

{listen} {art}

It’s been five years since the onceler fandom was a thing. I had the unique privilege to be apart of it from beginning to end, and throughout the fandom’s life the numerous RP plots and silly memes heavily revolved around music. The movie had its own music we frequently referred to, but the fandom itself ended up creating its own soundtrack during its glory days to the point where I can’t hear any of these songs without thinking of the fandom.

So back in September, instead of using my labor day vacation to do homework like a responsible adult, I combed through my blog, my old fandom blog, and all (yes, all) of the main askblogs and their au selves to gather as much of the most memorable music as I could find. This playlist is the result. I didn’t include songs from the movie because that’s pretty easy to find, but these are unique and if you’re like me you probably forgot about like, half of these. And during this project I learned that, for some reason, there’s still a bunch of you still kicking and there’s new people coming in, so I thought this would be a cool piece of fandom history to share with you since you weren’t able to experience it first hand like the rest of us.

Without further adu, the history behind each track. This is NOT the order in the playlist. That’s just random because I really wanted to milk that surprise nostalgia factor (and if you want the best experience you should put the playlist on shuffle). IF YOU THINK I MISSED ANY IMPORTANT SONG, OR IF ANY OF THE MAIN ARTISTS WANT ME TO ADD SOMETHING, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. I will add them! I just did what I could find and remember as significant.

Here we go...

GENERAL (The beginnings of an empire)

1. Everybody Loves Me - OneRepublic (this popular amv)

2. Oh No! - Marina and the Diamonds (this popular post)

3. Peacock - Katy Perry (Honestly all I remember is Swag started it)

4. Wide Awake - Katy Perry (SWAG SANG AN ACOUSTIC VERSION OF THIS BUT I CAN’T FIND IT ANYMORE)

THE ASKBLOGS (What you all came for!)

1. Money - Mindless Self Indulgence (Enter Swag. One of the first askblogs out of the famous ones. This is one of the first songs he posted)

2. Cannibal - Ke$ha (Enter One-ler. Started as a joke just because of a typo, became one of the most popular askblogs, and my personal favorite =D Also, sidenote, this asshole has no songs associated with him besides this one. At least in his OG form anyway)

3. Good Time - Owl City ft. Carly Rae Jepsen (Enter Bitter. His name should tell you what you need to know. APPARENTLY HE’S STILL SUPER ACTIVE?????? Who would’ve guessed? This song is also associated with teen!Bitter)

2. RICHMAN! - 3OH!3 (Someone who was very popular in the fandom at the time made a storyboard about Swag, One, Gent, and Bitter with this song. I’m not linking this person because I don’t think they’d want the attention)

3. Party at a Rich Dude’s House - Ke$ha (Where were YOU when Swag got stuck in a closet and all of us took over his fucking mansion and threw a FANDOM WIDE PARTY??????)

(There’s a SHITTON of Oncelers missing here. If Gent, Pimp, BP, 2012, Steampunk, Entre, Ink, Creep, etc had any widely known songs in the fandom please let me know so I can add them!)

THNEEDVILLE/THORNVILLE HIGH (When shit starts to get real/The start of “deoncelerization”. People liked this AU so much, including the creators, that the characters involved ditched the onceler title and became legit OCs! Lots of people hated it, lots of people loved it, but either way that’s how they stayed

Sidenote: The best fics came from this AU just sayin’~)

1. Teenagers - My Chemical Romance (prepare for some legit grade A YA angst)

2. California Girls - Katy Perry (Enter Teen!Swag/Oliver. This is the start of Swag’s well-known association with Katy Perry. This is the first song he posted, but everyone associated him with this song instead. This blog still updates sometimes!)

3. Animal I Have Become - Three Days Grace and also Space Jam (Enter Teen!One/Gabriel. Everyone’s favorite edgy, school hottie, goofy, werebear-loving, space jamming, not completely mentally stable teen. I still love him. Also every fucking song associated with One was a joke and I love it. Animal I Have Become was his own fucking request on his blog for a fan thing what a nerd. He even practiced drumming to it.)

4. School’s Out - Alice Cooper (Enter Teen!Rocky/Johnny. This guy was the au version of Rockstar Onceler but this quickly became the more popular version. He’s a punkass teen who wants to be a rockstar! The character arc on this one though, hot damn. Definitely a late fave among the fandom)

5. Smash the Control Machine - Otep (Enter Teen!Spook/Jericho. Okay. So, Spook is actually the au version of an au version of Entre. Yeah, it got deep for a minute. But like Rocky, Spook immensely overshadowed his origins and became a late top-tier fave. He was my favorite after One. If One wasn’t edgy enough for you or didn’t have enough baggage, then Spook was your man. Legit anarchist and actual practicing punk--he explains how to be punk here and it’s my favorite post by him--so he often got on political rants, damn the man, fuck capitalism, etc etc. His backstory is hella sad and he’s like haunted by a demon?? It sounds a little out there, but Spook, imo, has the best writing and character development out of everyone and you should read it. Idk who I had a bigger crush on, him or One.

Anyway, he sang this song on his blog. Sadly, his blog and Rocky’s are officially inactive)

THE SHIPS (nevermind, this is what you came for isn’t it, ya nasty?)

E.T. - Katy Perry (Swoncest. Swag+One, arguably the most popular ship in the fandom. Literally promoted by Swag, with edited lyrics and all!)

Love Me Dead - Ludo (More Swoncest. I mean, every fandom uses this song at some point for their problematic couples)

My First Kiss - 3OH!3 ft Ke$ha (TEEN!SWAG AND ONE KISS FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER AND WE ALL FUCKING LOSE IT)

Up and Up - Reliant K (Switter. Swag+Bitter. Second most popular ship for awhile maybe???? Bitter sang this for Swag.)

Tongue Tied - Grouplove (SWONTER. SWAG+BITTER+ONE. Because why the fuck not we were already going to hell at this point. What a wild ride this ship was. This was actually a really popular ship for a hot minute but faded pretty quickly. Which made me horribly sad because it was my favorite and a lot of really cool fics came from it)

I Almost Told You That I Love You - Papa Roach (SPOOKSTAR. Rocky+Spook. Nothing ever really dethroned Swoncest during the glory days, but this came pretty close toward the end. I’d say it was at least in the top 5 ships. Also my favorite after Swonter. Watching Spook constantly pine over Rocky until they finally got together gave me life. Spooky plays it here.)

Do You Wanna Touch - Joan Jett and the Blackhearts (Spookstar. Rocky sings it after he gets M!A’d into a cis girl)

Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys (So, fun fact: this is the last song I’ve associated with the fandom before I basically faded away? I miraculously got into Spook’s mod’s stream before it ended and he was drawing a Spookstar pic to this song and it was basically on repeat, and it was the first I’d ever heard it. I can’t find the pic and don’t know which one of Spook’s mods’ art blogs I should check. Sorry =/)

The Only Hope For Me Is You - My Chemical Romance (Swagtre. Swag+Entre. Yeah, okay, THIS ship was def in the top 3 at least, especially as Truffula Flu grew in popularity. The lyrics are even in Entre’s zombie au description. Look at that smitten face. What a big gay <3)

Stereo Hearts - Gym Class Heroes ft Adam Levine (Prisma+Swag. Idk the ship name. Yo, listen. You wanna spot who’s a onceling in a crowd? Play this song and watch for the people that burst out in tears. This was probably one of the only hetero ships you were gonna see, and even if you didn’t ship it, Swag and Prisma were best friends from the very beginning. So, all of us felt Swag’s heartbreak when she FUCKING DIED HORRIBLY IN TRUFFULA FLU. Swag dedicated the song to her here)

(Popular ships I don’t have music for: GentlePimp, BitterOne, Steamler, Creamler, 1Spook, 1SpookStar, 72+Entre, Catnippackets+Swag???????...and everything else)

GROUND ZERO: TRUFFULA FLU (Apparently MCR is the soundtrack to the apocalypse)

This was literally such a huge, well written event that it crossed fandoms and had people that weren’t even involved watching it. Since it had such a following, there was even talk of the creators making it a real comic to sell. Sadly, despite its massive success, this was the beginning of the end for the glory days of the fandom. Lots of people were upset that Camp Entre was getting all the attention and weren’t openly allowing everyone to jump in and join their narrative. This caused a lot of infighting and anger toward the bigger askblogs and their mods, with some people siding with the mods’ decisions and others writing angry posts about their opposition. With the pressures of consistently updating the story becoming extremely stressful for the mods, added on top of the pressures from the fandom, they decided to end their Truffula Flu narrative prematurely, much to the disappointment of many fans. The blogs are still open for anyone to read, and even though it never had a true conclusion, I HIGHLY recommend it. Just mentioning it still gets me hyped.

Never seeing Truffula Flu get a real ending is the one regret I have about the fandom.

1. Radioactive - Imagine Dragons (this HUGELY POPULAR AMV. Consider it the trailer for Truffula Flu. This is basically the main theme.)

2. Dead Hearts - Stars (Also a really popular AMV)

3. Look Alive, Sunshine and Na Na Na - My Chemical Romance (Ah, yes. Swag and Rocky are here to hype up your apocalypse)

4. Bulletproof Heart - My Chemical Romance (Swag’s first season theme. Now that his original mod revealed what was gonna happen to him at the end of Truffula Flu I wanna die every time I hear this song)

5. Planetary GO! - My Chemical Romance (Swag and Rocky shenanigans)

6. Blood -  My Chemical Romance (Swag reveals he’s immune to the disease, or “bulletproof”)

7. Party Poison - My Chemical Romance (Swag and Rocky’s friendship theme)

8. Sleep - My Chemical Romance (The moment the fandom collectively had a meltdown that lasted for months. Where were you when Bitter died? rip buddy)

9. Mama - My Chemical Romance - (ENTRE FUCKING LOSES IT AFTER KILLING BITTER)

10. Save Yourself, I’ll Hold Them Back - My Chemical Romance (I think this is something to do with Broken!Swag???? But I could’ve imagined it. It’s also in his tags earlier in the story)

11. Vampire Money - My Chemical Romance (Swag and Rocky again. But Rocky got infected and was on his way out when the series ended and I always pictured him exiting to this song, like a final encore)

12. Goodnight, Dr. Death - My Chemical Romance (The last song I got for ya, folks. I put it on here since it was used here, but also because I thought it worked as a good fandom goodbye as well. It’s really open-ended, and I feel like that’s where the fandom remains. Hanging in a weird balance of not existing but still kinda existing. We went out in a quiet,modest fizzle. But lots of us remember. And a lot of us are still around. “So remember even if you're dusted You may be gone But out here in the desert Your shadow lives on without you.” That’s kinda how this feels. Like those memories are still living on without us.

But anyway. If you guys wanna read Truffula Flu, start here. The people in Camp Entre are as follows, with as many of the blogs that are still existing. You can also go to the wiki.

Entre

Swag

One

Rocky

Bitter

BP

72

Audrey

Ted

The Lorax

Prisma

Unfortunately, a lot of these blogs are deactivated and Rocky’s blog seems to have been hacked. Everything is gone and all that’s there is a single ad =(

And...that’s it. I’ve spent my time in nostalgia world, it’s time for me to return to reality. I hope everyone enjoys this, it was a lot of fun to make =) Stay stupid everyone <3

[javodvarka]

By now, unless you’re living under a rock or incommunicado up on a space Ark, you’ve seen the season 5 trailer for The 100. And you can bet I have some impressions. So strap in, space cowboy.

I have a love/hate relationship with trailers because while it’s great to see new footage, the potential for spoiling something due to the Zapruder-like analysis we use to dissect every little frame really makes me hesitate to go in too deep. Over on Reddit, we picked apart the season 3 trailer until we kinda figured a lot of plot points out that took a bit of wind out of my sails. I guess I’m one of those people who like things to surprise me.

I’m not going to watch this trailer more than five times, which I know probably makes me a Bad FanTM, but I still want a sense of fresh wonder when I watch season 5 and not over-analyze a piece of media which I THINK is intentionally misleading in parts to begin with. Oh, there are some definite “I don’t think this shot really immediately follows the previous one, they just want us to THINK that it does.” We see you, JRoth and company.

Not falling for your shenanigans. Trying to play with our emotions and shit.

First Off, Can We Talk About How Gorge it All Looks?

Let me start out by saying the very first thing that popped into my mind…before the characters, the fighting, the conflict, the angst…I thought “goddamn, there are some really gorgeous shots in this trailer, they’ve really upped their cinematography game.”

I mean, look at this shit:

    LOOK AT IT.

I think the shot of the rover and Clarke on the cliff overlooking the forest is my favorite. That’s the one that got me to lean forward and say “oh hold up, they ain’t playin’, look at this!” But check out that desert sandstorm. Those space pods. That unique angle overlooking Clarke and the wreckage of Polis. There’s a real eye for scope here that I’ve never felt before save for perhaps Jaha and Murphy crossing the Dead Zone in season 2. Many of these shots are serving up all kinds barren earth realness. I can FEEL the sense of loneliness that must eat at Clarke as she explores what’s left of her little piece of earth. If you’re looking for a “show, don’t tell” example of what Clarke’s isolation must feel like…well dude it looks like season 5 is going to deliver visually.

Let me tell you, I’m not a very “let’s take in the scenery” person when it comes to my TV shows and movies. I love great visuals and balk at the overuse of CGI fuckery, but it’s not something that usually sparks off a “dude, did you SEE that?” thought in my brain. So that it’s the first thing that made an immediate impression to me is kind of interesting. And I’m digging it.

I Don’t Know What to Think About Octavia AT ALL and I’m Conflabberated and Conflicterated

Man, I’m so torn with Octavia.

Wait for it…

…………………wait for it……………………………

Where my Umbrugliaheads at??!!

Like, seriously I cannot decide where Octavia sits with me and the trailer does not clarify my position at all. Is she going dark or is she going to be one of the people we can depend on to do the right thing? I see her with Madi and I’m scared of what kind of influence she could exert over her, especially if O’s philosophy and methods diverge from Clarke’s. Octavia likes murder in the key of A and Clarke is more an E minor type of gal.

At times I’ve lamented over the lack of a friendship between Clarke and Octavia, and for obvious reasons their relationship has been chilly. One does not simply get over Clarke’s willingness to let you die in the TonDC bombing. I get the feeling that they only tolerate one another because of their respective relationships with Bellamy, but I REALLY want them to be friends. But now I’m like, what if it never happens the way I want? What if they’re just not MEANT to be friends? What if Octavia doesn’t travel down that “make good” track I desire for her? I have to be fine with that. Not my IP, not my creative endeavor, I’m just along for the wonderful ride.

I will tell you right the fuck now: I don’t trust Octavia one bit. Hells to the no. BUT I WANT TO. That’s my dilemma. And I kinda love the unease this instills in me.

Something that popped in my head about O and the bunker is this: Wonkru is a new thing. So what is the ruleset this new society lives by? Is this something Octavia will have to create? Is she capable of creating laws and rules and consequences for non-compliance after her experience up on the Ark? Her whole existence was pretty much defined by how punitive the Ark society was for just having more than one kid, so how exactly does a person raised and punished by that system create a system for life in essentially the same circumstances? Limited room, limited resources, close quarters, etc. Does she turn to Kane and Jaha for help? I think it’s obvious given their role in her life – and responsibility for some of her pain – that they exert some sort of influence over her. And that leads me to my SWAG (Sophisticated Wild Ass Guess) about O and Jaha.

I think Octavia kills Jaha while in the bunker. I know, this isn’t necessarily revolutionary as this has been speculated for a while now. But I think Jaha goads Octavia into killing him. Let me break it down: Jaha has a messiah complex, a need to save “his people.” Having failed spectacularly the first time with ALIE, guiding Octavia is his second chance.

At the same time, maybe Octavia is in a compromised position by being the leader of a majority Grounder coalition while having a lot of Skaikru’s old leadership in her ear. I think Grounders are going to grumble about this, cast doubt on Octavia’s commitment to ALL people, and Jaha will see sacrificing himself on her sword as a way to consolidate her power and remove any doubt that she’s committed to Wonkru. It moves Jaha’s great mission forward and maybe is a way, in his semi-twisted mind, makes up for his past sins, one of which being enforcing the laws that killed Octavia’s mom.

I’m excited by where O’s story could go. I feel she was kinda a throw-away plot-adjacent character until S4 and now seeing her come into prominence without really knowing what her priorities or intentions are is pretty exciting. But she also scares the poop outta me. And I think my fav part of the trailer was when she growled “choose.” I don’t know what’s happening there, but I’m PRETTY sure it’s a moment of badassery. And I’m smitten with female badasses.

Which makes a great segue to…

Truly Madly Deeply

So, while I’m watching the trailer, I’m quickly falling deeply in love with someone who got maybe less than 20 seconds of screen time: Charmaine Diyoza.

I kinda started sweating it because while she was cool and calm and collected and has a bit of swag, I’m also pretty certain she’s going to fuck our fam up something fierce. So I was like “damn, I better keep this under wraps because Diyoza has me SHOOK, but she’s bad news, can’t let people know I’m into her, right?”

Then I go online and EVERY FUCKING PERSON IS INTO DIYOZA. Well, those in my T100 twittersphere at least, which is curated carefully to only include the coolest yet weirdly deranged fans of this show who are into threesomes and cannibalism and alien theories and hurting one another with emotional gifs from all the emotional shows.

My shame washed away. There were others like me who loved this person who will hurt our beloved characters and we’re so here for it.

But I have to say, in order to make that strong an impression in only ~20 seconds of screen time, kudos on the casting of Ivana Milicevic as Diyoza.

I will declare it outright: I’m firmly on “Team Fuck Us Up, Diyoza.” Please play with every little emotion I have and suck out my soul until I’m a withered husk. I. AM. HERE. FOR. IT.

Also I kinda get the feeling that maybe Diyoza is a “been there, done that, stole the tee shirt” version of Clarke without all the emotion and sentimentality and complex moral conflict that has been Clarke’s brand since the jump. Diyoza is the “fuck it, let’s do it” future (bizarro) version of Clarke who seems waaaaaaaaaaaay more ruthless than our sweet baby Griffin. I am positively giddy at the thought. I love character parallels. And two strong women at cross purpose, neither totally in the right/wrong? Let the queens reign, baby, and let the bodies fall where they may.

Madi Is Kinda Awesome and This Is New For Me

You guys, I usually HATE kids in entertainment. They are the woooooooooooooorst, bizarrely written by adults who somehow forgot every interaction they’ve ever had with a child and instead write them as stupid proto-human beings with the agency of a jar of mayonnaise. Children, how do they work?

But everything I’ve seen so far has me excited as fuck to meet Madi. And am I here for mama bear grizzly Clarke?

If you know one thing about me it is this: I’m all about Clarke “I’m In Charge Now” Griffin. I’m not just here for it. I’ve bought land and am building a home for it. An underground pool for it. A fire pit? Fuck yeah. I’M HERE FOR IT, GONNA PAY PROPERTY TAXES FOR IT, GOING TO BE BURIED IN THE BACK YARD FOR IT, MY ASS GONNA HAUNT THIS LAND FOR IT.

Madi provides a great opportunity to give Clarke some insight into what a little shit children can be to their mothers and give her a new appreciation for Abby. Abby often maddeningly gets the Skyler White treatment from people on Reddit and I’ve gotten to the point of not being able to speak to those people without risk of banishment. I’m such an anger baby, and here comes my anger baby rant…

WE HATE WHEN THE REAL WORLD AND REAL WORLD SHIT WE DEAL WITH ON THE DAILY IS REFLECTED BACK AT US. Who doesn’t have some form of strife with their moms? Moms are sometimes overprotective and hypocritical and irrational AND GUESS THE FUCK WHAT SO ARE THEIR KIDS. We don’t have perfect moms and we are often shitbirds as their kids, so give mumsy a break. And maybe give her a ring.

This shit just gets me mad because some of it is driven by misogyny thinly veiled as “Abby is the worst because reasons.” And my tolerance for male bullshit, white bullshit, straight bullshit, entitled bullshit, regressive bullshit is quickly reaching nil. See, anger baby.

Abby is a very understandable character if you have any empathy for the woman who raised you, wiped your poopy butt, and was likely your primary caretaker your whole childhood. When Abby goes momma bear with Clarke, I get it. Now we’re going to see Clarke in Abby’s shoes and I wonder just how far – how “hypocritical” and “irrational” – she’ll go to protect Madi. And what will our reactions be?

I think a big theme of this season is going to be our own examination of our biases and perspectives in regards to the tables being turned – Clarke is now Abby. Skaikru are now Grounders. Eligius is now Skaikru. Charmaine is now Clarke. How will we stretch our perceptions of people who have motivations we’ve empathized with before? Or hated before? How willing will we be to accept behavior and rationale once the shoe is on the other foot and that once-understandable rationale is now wielded by a “bad” guy?

Alien Shit

You guys, there’s something rolling around in the abdomen of a man (is it MURPHY??!!) and if you know anything about anything, it’s either a sentient yam OR an alien chest burster. I don’t know how many people are freaking out about this, but instead of me trying to freak out in tandem and posit any theories, I will simply direct you to my ex-podcast partner and the Michael Jordan of GIFs: Jo over at May We Geek Again. Warning…she’s kinda really into her theory and passionate about it and like an Alien movie historian and…well…you know….

Enjoy the crazy: https://twitter.com/MayWeGeekAgain/status/974350151358779392

I will say that even the slight possibility of introducing some sort of parasite or Cordyceps or anything from space that becomes a huge threat on earth is exciting as fuck. Leaning hardcore into scifi horror is not something I would have EVER predicted after season 1 and 2, when I thought I knew the show’s brand. But man…if they do this…if they DO THE THING…I’m going to pee myself. And fair to say there will be much gleeful urination from other fans as well. You can use “gleeful urination” in your review quotes, CW.

Wrestling GIF quota met! Yay me! I’m aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawesome.

Quick Hits

Kane is getting into man-bun length hair and I can’t hate on it because I don’t hate man buns oh god there goes my street cred.

This is straight up Dances with Wolves, yo. Tatonka!

Where does O pick up the “love is weakness” line? Is there a world where she becomes a nightblood and takes the Flame?

I dunno how the Flame fits into this season, but I always feel awkward about it because Lexa is in there and Lexa…oof…still a gut punch. Miss you boo.

Adulting looks sooooooooo good on all these characters, especially the menfolk with facial hair like MEN. MANLY MEN DOING MANLY MEN THINGS.

Related: I know a fainting couch is an old-fashioned gendered bullshit thing, but Bellamy and Murphy with facial hair and aged up give me the vapors.

So many misleading cuts/editing in this trailer that it’s hard to really trust much about it. Is that Bellamy with the kobra kai leg sweep on Octavia? Is that Octavia that Bellamy is standing over? Who is anyone really fighting? Who are the fanatics? Who stands against Octavia? Is Zeke friendly? It’s all confusing and misdirecting.

I’m thinking Spacekru gets separated and two or more little groups get down to earth separately…I’d say some go with the Eligius crew and some with Raven.

And I think they get separated because Bellamy decides to only expose a couple of Spacekru’s number’s to the Eligius. He’s just keeping his people safe in a situation full of unknowns, which is prime head AND heart Bellamy.

I’m intrigued by this desert set. Is this shot in Vancouver? Is there some Canadian desert I’m unaware of? Why does some action seem to take place here, a location I would think is hostile to life. IS THERE A DESERT IN SASKATCHEWAN? Is it were all the Sasquatches live? Is Alpha Flight headquartered there?

YES, I MADE AN ALPHA FLIGHT REFERENCE.

The trailer is all things for all people:

Hello good space cleavage Echo!

I worry that I don’t get enough of Raven in this trailer. I want more of her each new season and I feel like I get less than what I need of my sweet, sweet Raven.

Is that a sonic weapon that McCreary is using? TIGHT. Just like Lucio! Except way more murdery.

Did y’all catch that scar across Diyoza’s throat? Could it be a burn from one of those electo-collars they slap on Clarke, or did someone try to cut her throat?

Related: “someone who survives a throat slitting = not to be fucked with” – Jo of MWGA. PREACH.

Speaking of that electro-collar – it’s serving up some major Lincoln-torture-parallels-from-season-1 realness. Lincoln was an unknown potential threat. Clarke is an unknown potential threat…

Is Jonathan is my favorite Fab 5er from the new Queer Eye series?

Kinda diggin’ McCreary’s long mohawk look…he’s serving up Miller from The Expanse realness. Okay, I really need to stop.

Oh lort, don’t even get me started about my fears about who is dying in the finale, because when the cast says they were all weeping, you know it’s a doozy and likely a major player. I think it’s Abby or Kane. But I fear it’s Raven. And if it’s Raven, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.

Not particularly crazy about dialog getting repeated every season. A minor nitpick, but it’s feeling inorganic at this point.

How many people are in what I can only assume are cryosleep pods?

Where was serial killer Vinson? Did I miss him?

The Bunker’s hottest new club is Blood’s Sweet Faire. Featuring battling siblings. Blood. More blood. 90’s emo makeup. Kane in beard. Poor lighting. Depeche Mode almost inaudibly played so you’re like “is that Depeche Mode or is it in my head”? Microbrews.

I lament the lack of more Echo, Raven, Murphy, Emori, Monty, Niylah, Indra, Gaia, and Harper in the trailer. I realize there’s only so much you can show in a trailer, where there’s limited time to get the broad strokes of season 5 across, but I’m INVESTED in all these beautiful people.

Parting Thoughts

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

WHERE’S THE TRAILER?!

I know nothing about Canada

TWEET/RETWEET: If you enjoyed this review, could you do me a favor and share / retweet / like it on twitter? I hate to ask this because I hate asking anyone to do anything for me, but I’d really appreciate it.

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST OF THE 100 MUSIC!: Hey people who like sounds entering your ear holes! I have a Spotify playlist, which is music from and inspired by The 100. You can find it right here and marvel at my musical tastes. I keep it up to date with anything featured on the show or in promos.

SHIT YOU SHOULD BE WATCHING WHEN NOT WATCHING THE 100: 

These are a couple ICYMI shows that are excellent and you need to come flail with us on Twitter over these series:

The Expanse – a truly great sci fi series that looks freakin’ fantastic, has a great cast, contains some mind blowing moments, and boasts fuckin Chrisjen Avasarala who can rock a red furred cloak like a QUEEN. I swear all fealty to Chrisjen!

The Leftovers – likely the best TV show ever? IMHO, it has everything, including Carrie Coon, who somehow miraculously started “mainstream” acting as a woman in her 30s. She’s a revelation. This whole show is amazeballs. If you ever want to derail my day, just start tweeting Leftovers gifs at me and I’m ruint. RUINT.

There are some The 100 reviewers/recaps/writers you should absolutely be reading, and I offer them up for your enjoyment; I have no affiliation with any of them, save for being a fan:

Selina Wilken – a mix of passionate fandom and truly professional journalism.

Erin Brown – unfairly beautiful writing. Like seriously, stop being so good.

McKenzie Morrell – recapping her damn face off and great interviews with the cast!

Toni_watches – piss your goddamn pants funny photo recaps.

Jo Garfein – great fandom charity auctions.

Disclosure: this is my own indie site. This is on my time, my dime. Becho is endgame.

The 100 – Season 5 Trailer Impressions By now, unless you're living under a rock or incommunicado up on a space Ark, you've seen the season 5 trailer for…