#ngl sometimes i wish i could go back to hospital

[elviratheepic]

The vibes are rotten this fine evening.

[fingertipsmp3]

Also I can’t figure out if my life genuinely does suck or I’m just having an existential crisis because my period starts in approximately 48 hours

[marleyybluu]

Made From Love

Summary: basically Spooky is a cute, supportive, boyfriend while his girl is in labour.

Pairings:dad!Oscar x black!OC/poc!OC

Warnings: none. Just fluff and cuteness.

Word count: 2.1k

Side note: I acc have so many drafts of Oscar being a dad. I don’t know why. He’d be such a DILF tho

I’m ngl something about this pic is giving dad vibes. Like “this is my dad in the 90s”

"Puta Madre!"

Amora cussed leaning over holding her stomach, the agonizing pain shot around her tummy as she sat in the hospital bed, the same bed she'd been in for almost ten hours. She didn't know how much more she could take.

She was five centimetres dilated and she'd been at that spot since they arrived.

Oscar, her boyfriend, felt useless in the whole situation all he could do was rub her back to ease any pain even the smallest and whisper encouraging words. She was exhausted beyond belief, she felt weak, hot and cold at the same time, and her emotions were not in one spot.

"Oscar, I'm gonna fucking kill you." She whimpered leaning back on the bed.

He kissed the top of her head. "That's okay baby, I'm fine with that."

"Why did we do this?" She pouted. He made his way over to the bed sitting on the little space that was available, he held her hand in his massaging her fingers as a distraction from her pain. "Because we love each other."

She sighed. "And we need a big-headed baby to prove it?"

He chuckled shaking his head and she softly snorted at her comment. She didn't mean it, she was happy to be creating her own family, happy to finally be the parent she wish she had and she was excited about the new chapter. The way Spooky reacted to her pregnancy was what made it worth it to be honest. He was ecstatic, the two discussed family plans more so in a fantasy way but didn't know if it'd ever be a reality.

But the day Amora showed Oscar those two pink lines he made it his duty to keep her as relaxed as he possibly could. He'd taken over the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry— he wouldn't even let her carry a book much less to a pot of food. Her ridiculous cravings at five in the morning were no task to him, anything she wanted she got.

Sometimes to help her fall asleep he would just rub circles on her stomach while they watched whatever she wanted to. The mood swings weren't the easiest, crying at a commercial about potatoes one day and cussing like a sailor the next at the fact that he, quote, "breathed too much."

Oscar took her insults with a grain of salt knowing she was going through everything to have his baby and he was grateful for it. Watching the woman he loved more than anything continue to grow another version of herself for him to hold and coddle.

Amora sat up carefully swinging her legs off the bed, he came to her aid offering his hand, she took it and grabbed the stand that held her IV bag. "Can we go for a walk please?" She whined. Oscar nodded helping her one slow step at a time. He thought her waddling was the cutest causing her to develop the new nickname penguin.

She huffed and puffed making it two rooms down before she wanted to go back. Once they were back inside their own room she didn't sit down instead she rested her head on his chest while his magical hands massaged her back. "How are you feeling?" She mumbled.

"I should be asking you that instead."

She shook her head. "Answer first."

He smirked. "Is it weird that I'm nervous? Like I just hope she's okay and that she's healthy and that you're healthy. I can't wait to bring her home."

Amora hissed feeling another pain, she went over to the bed planting her palms on the sheets, her head hung as tears slipped from her eyes. Seeing this made Oscar's heart shatter, he held her as another contraction passed.

Amora felt like she zoned out too long, one minute she was rushing this baby out and now that she was on her way out she was screaming to put her back in. Beads of sweat ran down her face, she used Oscar's hand as a stress ball and he was almost certain she'd break his fingers.

"Fuuuuuuck!! I can't fucking do this put her back in it's okay!"

She threw her head back looking over at Oscar. "One more push bébé, you got it." She opened her mouth to call him every word in the book but he didn't let her say anything just planted a kiss on her lips, her soft smile quickly turning to a neutral position when she heard those glorious cries, a small human placed on her bare chest. She was here.

Oscar couldn't believe his eyes, she was right in front of them, a living and breathing creature. Just as breathtakingly beautiful as her mother. "Oh my goodness, hi princesa." Amora cooed. Oscar was speechless. He was nudged by one of the nurses who handed him small scissors nodding over to the umbilical cord that still connected mother and child. He looked over with worry on his face. His girlfriend reassured him with her eyes and he took the scissors and gently cut at the squishy tube until it separated.

He bent down to get a closer look at the tiny person. "I'm so proud of you. I love you guys." He whispered. "We love you too Papi."

And so it began, a beautiful little family forming overnight. The nurses had taken her away to run some tests, wash her down and soon they'd bring her back. Oscar cupped her face indulging in a passionate kiss, she could taste the thank yous, the appreciation, the love, the gratitude and every positive affection he had to offer.

"Mhmm," One of the nurses sounded. "Be nice if every father reacted like that. They'll be back next year."

Amora and Oscar giggled hearing her comment. "We'll definitely be back next year." He mumbled against her lips and she didn't fight it because truth be told, they probably would be.

Soon their infant was rolled in all wrapped up and cozy in the cutest pink hat. They were left alone as Oscar stood over her, she looked like a "Bean" He whispered picking her up in his arms, her tiny nose twitching and her face forming a quick smile before a pout as she slept peacefully.

The new father sat back down on the hospital bed next to the new mother, she rested her head on his shoulders and gazed at their creation, a creation of love rightfully so. "She smells so good." Oscar whispered, Amora, closed her eyes enjoying that whiff of 'newborn smell' that mom's always talked about.

A small knock at the door caught their attention as Caeser, Oscar's younger brother, poked his head in. "Mano, come in man." The door pushed open revealing her mother behind him she gasped reaching out for her loved one, embracing her in a sweet hug her mother congratulated the two on the new journey.

"Amora, she is beautiful, my goodness." She awed tapping her little nose.

Caeser hadn't said anything yet, the shock hadn't worn off yet that his brother who had been a father figure to him all his years was now officially a father and he could vouch for how great of a father he would be, better than their own by a hundred percent.

"You wanna hold her?" Oscar asked. "C-can I?"

"Yeah man, you're her Tio foo."

Oscar instructed the young man on how to hold his arms, he held his breath as the tiny thing was placed in his clutch, he didn't dare to breathe or move in an inch. "Honey, relax, you won't hurt her." Said, Amora.

"So do we have a name yet?"

The couple looked at each other and frowned, they didn't know what to name their daughter for some reason every name Amora came up with she just didn't like. "We're working on it." Oscar chuckled.

Soon Caesar excused himself to go call Monse and her mother excused herself so she could go bring her daughter some much needed food. Amora had fought long and hard to stay awake but she just couldn't do it anymore, she let go and found herself in a deep slumber, the baby in the same state laid in her tiny cushioned transparent bassinet . Oscar spread across the couch looking at the two of them.

He'd never pictured this day would come, being a rugrat in the streets for so long, hooking up with desperate hynas, school dropout, jailbird-- he had doubts he'd ever get started on a family but he was happy to have found a beautiful and understanding woman who had the patience of a priest in a confessional booth. The baby began to make noises, squirming in her little blanket. He didn't hesitate to get up and get her out, he was itching to hold her again anyway.

Oscar sat back down with her in his arms, her wonderous brown eyes staring right at him. He could cry, he did cry, a few tears slipping from him. "Hola mi Amor, como estas?" He watched those curious little eyes drink in his features. "I look scary huh? Promise I'm not. Your mommy was probably scared of me too, I don't know why she's still here. She's loca."

He gently ran his thumb over her nose. "Emilia. Emilia Diaz. You think mom will like that name? I've been saving it for a while."

Amora quietly laughed catching his attention, she looked through her droopy lids and smiled. "Why you didn't tell me you had a name for her already?"

He shrugged. "Didn't know if you'd like it."

"I love it. Bienvenido al mundo Emilia."

—- It didn't take long for six months to fly by, Emilia wasn't the tiny little person they brought home so long ago, she was clapping, she was giggling, holding her own bottle once in a while.

Amora felt like she didn't have time to register that her daughter really was growing before her eyes. They had lots of help with her, it really did take a village and she was happy to be a part of it though she wasn't sure if she wanted to raise children in this area... maybe it wasn't so bad with her group of Tio's looking out for her.

Emilia kicked around in her crib waiting for her mom to come pick her up from her nap, the light switched on and a small squeal erupted from those tiny lips. "Buenos dias mamitaaaa, helloooo." Amora cooed reaching into the crib and sitting her baby on her hip. "Let's go bother daddy." She whispered.

Oscar was outside working on his car, as usual, the hood up blocking his view. The front door closed as Amora's bare feet touched the grass, the closer she got her toes came into his peripheral view, he stood up to the surprise of his daughter who was now awake.

"Hola bonitaaa, hi my love." Emilia wasted no time abandoning her mom for her dad. Amora pouted handing her over. "I think we made mommy jealous."

"Whatever."

He tugged on her hand pulling her closer leaning down for a kiss, a small number of cheers coming from down the street. She shook her head seeing the Santos three houses down across the street hollering at them. "You better get it jefe, we want a boy too."

Oscar flipped them off and they cackled going back to their activities. "I mean, speaking of."

Amora raised her eyebrows. "You want another one already? Oscaaaar." She whined. "That's how your gonna sound when we make another one."

She punched him in his shoulder and he fake flinched. "Did you see that bean? Mommy hit me. Get her." He took the baby's hand swatting at the mother's face causing a fit of giggles to erupt resulting in her going back to her mother's arms.

Amora opened the car door sitting inside allowing Emilia to sit on her lap and grab the steering wheel. Oscar closed up the hood and grunted as he sat down on the passenger side joining them.

"Turning into an Abuelo already?"

"Make fun of me now but I'll be a sexy one."

She fake gagged. "You start getting wrinkly and I'm outta here."

He shrugged. "Easier access for the hynas."

Her jaw dropped as she pulled his big ears. He looked at her with the purest love in his eyes, she blushed looking away but he took his finger turning her back to him. "I still make you nervous huh?"

"Yea."

"Good. It's cute."

She sucked her teeth before he inched closer to her capturing her in a sweet kiss that lingered, sending electricity through her body.

"Ba!"

The two laughed at the noise Emilia made. Her little hand wrapped around his large finger and she smiled. There was truly no place he'd rather be.

If you liked this story be sure to like this story, reblogs are appreciated, comments are appreciated, and feedback is appreciated.

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[stray-kids-react]

Having surgery scars

Masterlist

...

Bang Chan

° You had no idea about Chan's crush on you, not many people did. The only person who knew about his crush was himself and his best friend Felix. You never thought he could love you due to how you saw yourself.

° You never wore cropped tops or anything that had the chance of rising up too high, even during the summer. He knew about your scar, but never saw it or knew how much you hated it.

° One day he was going to visit you by surprise, using the spare key you gave him to his advantage. You walked out in a cropped pajama shirt and underwear, not expecting your best friend/crush to be in the room.

° You scar was on your stomach, it was deep and noticeable to whoever walked by when itt wasn't hidden under clothes. You thought it gave off a negative impression, while Chan thought it gave you a unique beauty.

° Before you could cover yourself up, Chan gently embraced you in a hug. Calming your conscious, his fingers gently tracing over the scar. He placed multiple kisses to your head, asking you why you are so self conscious.

"Why can't you see how beautiful you are?"

Lee Know

° You were very clumsy all throughout your life, constantly falling and running into things. But the worst scenario bad to be when you fell and someone kicked you straight in the face.

° This led to you having to get surgery on your broken nose, leaving a scar on the right side of your bridge. It wasn't overly noticeable unless you were very close to your face, which Minho happened to be.

° He wondered how he never noticed this scar before, especially since he loves giving you kisses on the top of your nose. He knew you were clumsy, but wondered how your only scars ended up in such a specific place.

° Minho gently traced over the scars, finding it cute how you scrunch your nose immediately at the touch of his fingertips. Before you scrunched your nose, he noticed that your nose must've been stitched.

° He assumed you did this by accident, by either falling or hitting your face with something. Minho was surprised to hear that someone did this to you intentionally, wondering why someone would hurt you.

"I'm losing hope in humanity at this point."

Changbin

° You has multiple scars on your arms due to an accident you had as a child, this is why you'd constantly wear long sleeve outfits. Feeling that people may become worried or grossed out if they ever saw them.

° But after being asked out by Changbin, you knew you couldn't hide your scars from him for too much longer. He didn't seem suspicious of your long sleeves, until you spent your first summer together.

° You were both sweaty messes who were slumped in front of multiple fans, he was just in his boxers while you had no pants but still your long sleeve shirt. You were turning red by how hot you were becoming.

° He looked at you astonished as how you hadn't passed out from the heat yet, but Changbin was mostly worried since he knew it wouldn't be long til you hit that point. So he moved the fan closer to you.

° You had enough of the heat, telling him to look away as you took of your shirt. Turning your back to him once you said it was okay to look. Changbin noticed your arms even if you tried to hide them, they were gorgeous.

"You will always be a super model to me."

Hyunjin

° You had a few scars on your neck, and you were embarrassed to admit where they came from. Even if you were close to Hyunjin and loved him dearly, you still felt silly admitting it came from a drunk bar fight.

° Hyunjin was curious to where the scars came from, but didn't want to pressure you into telling him in case it was from something traumatic. So instead he would just press soft kisses along the scars.

° You felt bad when he admitted ab embarrassing story of his to you, since he was revealing a moment that stuck with him in a bad way. Yet you were still hiding your scar story from him as he waited patiently.

° His puppy eyes and sweet smile made its mark on your heart, the story leaving your mouth hesitantly. You couldn't look him in the eyes, your cheeks were bright red from embarrassment. You felt stupid.

° He stroked your heated cheeks, turning your head so you'd make eye contact. All of your worries washed away when there wasn't a hint of judgement in his eyes. Only pure love and adoration were held in them.

"I won't judge a simple drunken accident."

Han

° You had scars all over your hands from a burning accident with a kettle, you were self conscious of your hands. But tried to hide those feelings when around other people, not wanting to make them worried.

° But your best friend Jisung noticed when something bothered you, your shimmering eyes would dimmer whenever someone would give you nicknames like 'Freddy Kruger' or 'The human torch'.

° Jisung loved you, even if you were too dense to catch onto that fact. He loves you and wouldn't let someone make you feel like garbage, which led to him defending you countless times throughout the years.

° You had this one fake friend that always rubbed him the wrong way, she would go out of her way to make fun of you and praise herself. Calling you ugly, and getting grossed out whenever you touched something.

° During a game of truth or dare, she dared anyone in the room to hold hands with you. No one was stepping forward, until Jisung crawled over. He didn't just hold them, but he also placed kisses along your knuckles.

"I would've done this without the dare."

Felix

° You were never self conscious over the scars on your legs, if anything Felix usually had more self doubt moments about himself than you did about yourself. Which led to you giving this angel SO MUCH LOVE. (He deserves the world ngl)

° But when visiting Felix back stage, a make up artist mistook you as an idol and suggested finding something to cover your scars. This left an unfamiliar sting to your heart, never thinking it was an issue.

° You say in one of the chairs back stage, placing your coat over your legs as you awaited your boyfriend. It wasn't long before Stray Kids were ushered to where you were sitting, all of them hyped and energetic.

° Felix knew you well, immediately suspicious as to why you were hiding your legs. He had many scenarios in his head, you were cold, period problem, hiding a present, no underwear. His mind was racing.

° But when he saw your sad smile, he knew it had something to do with your scars. Someone must've said something insensitive, and they hurt his favorite person. This wasn't the first time this happened.

"Don't hide your beauty from me, lovely."

Seungmin

° Seungmin witnessed how you got a scar on your back, you were running to catch the bus when you tripped over your feet and rammed into the glass of the bus station waiting area. Causing many gashes to appear.

° He rushed you to the hospital, watched the stitches and bandages go on, helped you up from the bed, helped you go to sleep, gave you medication for the pain. He made sure you were in perfect condition.

° Seungmin felt terrible that you got so severely injured, even though he couldn't do anything to prevent it from happening. He still felt guilty, even when you reassured him that it will be okay and will just leave scars.

° Scars were left on your back, and everytime he witnessed them he felt a slight ping to his heart. Wishing he could've done something to help you, but he doesn't want to relive that moment so he tries to ignore it.

° You asked Seungmin for a massage after a long day, laying down on the couch as he sat on top of your legs. His hands traced down your scars, rubbing the oils onto them gently as if they still hurt you.

"You look like a cute little tiger cub."

Jeongin

° You sometimes forgot that you had scars on your thighs, only remembering them if you see them. They don't effect you in any way, especially since they came form a bike accident when you were very young.

° You and Jeongin both had long days at work, so you both wanted to have a relaxing bath together. This was one of the moments where you forgot about your scars, until Jeongin pointed them out.

° He was worried they were recent, concerned if someone did this or if you did it to yourself. But you calmed him down with a kiss, before explaining it was from an accident with a bike when you very young.

° Jeongin covered you in bubbles, before cupping water in his hands and washing them away. He started around your thighs, rubbing them lightly after they were washed off. He felt a bit bad for bringing them up.

° You did the same treatment for Jeongin, relaxing in his arms for a while until the water was beginning to cool. He dried you off, playfully whipping your thighs with the towel, giggling as you stared in shock.

"It's part of my drying treatment baby."

[kj-1130]

Broken-Collapse pt2

TW//Mentions of rape/assault//TW

Main Masterlist

     “We wouldn’t have let you jump, (y/n). You don’t deserve that.”

     “You don’t understand. They have connections and as soon as they step out of those cells, I am a dead man walking. I’d rather die at my own hands than theirs, so yes you should’ve let me jump.” 

     You pushed out of Olivia’s arms and ran into the bathroom. Walking into a stall, you locked it, slid down the wall, and started scratching your arms like crazy. You wanted to be grounded. You wanted to feel the pain. You wanted to see blood. You just wanted to be in control. 

-

     Amanda, Barba, and Oliva watched as you stormed off. The blonde was quick to follow, knowing how much damage you could do to yourself in just a short amount of time. 

     She heard the pants that were coming out and the occasional sniff. Walking towards the only closed door, she realized it was locked.

     “(Y/n)? Sweetheart, I need you to open this door for me.”

     The detective faintly heard her sergeant come in but kept her focus on the distraught girl inside the stall. 

     “N-no. I-I need to d-do it. Just le-let me do it.”

     Both women could hear the franticness in your voice. 

     “Sweetie please just open the door. Let us help you.”

     There was no answer. Your sobs only grew louder and breaths more distressed. Neither of them wanted to break the door so Rollins decided to slide underneath it and ignore how unsanitary it was. 

     She saw that your scratching had already broken skin and there was blood caking up on your arms. The detective quickly unlocked the door before grabbing your wrists and pulling them up, preventing you from hurting yourself any further.  

     Liv saw what was happening so she hurriedly went on the search for a first aid kit. 

     Rollins sat there, whispering reassurances while you were openly sobbing and whimpering in her chest. 

     “Breathe, honey, just breathe.”

     You shook your head and kept hyperventilating as Liv came back with something to clean your wounds. 

     “It hurts. It hurts so bad.”

     Amanda took a deep breath and assisted you in standing up. She led you to the sinks and helped you sit on the counter with the sergeant’s help.

     The older woman cleaned your arms while you dropped your head onto the blonde’s shoulder. She rubbed your back and guided you through some breathing exercises. 

     “I’m tired.”

     “You can take a nap soon-”

     “No, I’m tired.”

-

     You sat on the couch in Amanda’s apartment, staring blankly at the tv. She was right next to you but it felt like the distance between the two of you was miles considering you were off in your own world. 

     A light rub on your shoulder brings you back to earth and you realize Amanda is crouch’s in front of you. You didn’t even flinch which the blonde noticed and she gave a small smile. 

     “I ordered some Chinese food. You need to eat something.” 

     The detective lifted up her hands before bringing them to yours and helping you get up. 

     During dinner, Amanda was gently coaxing you to eat at least half of what was on your plate before you could go to bed. You were convinced that the food was somehow poisoned and not safe for you to eat—even though you knew she wouldn’t do that to you—and it had been so long since you last had a meal, that you rarely had an appetite and sometimes just the thought of food disgusted you. 

     With much persuasion and hesitance, you started to take a few bites. It was then you realized how hungry you actually were. Throughout the evening, you and Amanda chatted a bit which took your mind off of the case and your mental exhaustion for a while. 

     It was about 7 pm when you could barely stand, resulting in the detective changing your bandages, then leading you to the guest bedroom. 

     She tucked you in, telling you to come to her if you needed, before turning off the lamp and exiting the room. 

-

     It was 2 am and you were lying wide awake. You thought you’d be out like a light the moment your head hit the pillow considering all that happened today; but nope. All you had done was twist and turn; thinking about those sick smirks that were resting on their faces. Their yellow teeth and alcohol tinted breath. The look in their eyes that said ‘I’m coming for you.’ 

     Before you could even give it a second thought, you were on your way to Amanda’s room. The door was open, so you went in and started calling her name before poking her in the side. 

     She grumbled before rolling over to face you. Immediately, she was alert, thinking something was wrong, but you shook your head. 

     “I-I couldn’t sleep. C-can I stay here w-with you?” 

     The blonde’s eyebrows raised to her hairline. You took her surprised silence as rejection and started to back out of the room slowly. 

     “N-never mind. D-don’t worry about it.” 

     This time, the older woman was the one shaking her head. She reached out and grabbed your wrist. She felt you tense for a second before relaxing and walking forward. 

     “Hey, no. It’s fine. C’mon.” 

     She lifted the covers as an invitation into her bed. You reluctantly crawled in and got settled. She could still see the hesitance in your eyes and slowly wrapped her arms around you. Once again, you tensed before relaxing with a deep breath. 

     You felt Amanda give you a light kiss on your hairline as you teetered on the edge of unconsciousness. 

     It was the first night in a long time that you dreamt of the roses instead of the thorns. 

-     

     You stayed with Amanda for a week before the state practically forced you to go into foster care. They said ‘you weren’t in any immediate danger,’ anymore. You had been there for only a few days before they sent you to a foster family. 

     Something in your gut told you this was going to go bad. But it didn’t matter. Because no one listens to you. And if someone did, it was always too late. 

-

     It was your first day with your new foster family. It was a woman and who she claimed was her fiancé. She seemed kind of familiar to you; it was on the tip of your tongue but you just couldn’t remember where you’ve seen her. 

     At first they appeared to be a normal and loving couple, but they always say looks can be deceiving.

     By the second day, you were locked in your new room, aka a storage closet. It was cold and probably moldy. You were hungry seeing as they hadn’t given you food since lunch yesterday. 

      You were huddled up in a corner rocking back and forth when the man busted through the door and started to drag you out by the arm with no explanation whatsoever. He was pulling you so hard, it felt like he dislocated your shoulder. 

     The buff man practically pushed you down the stairs and roughly led you to the couch. When you looked up, you felt all the blood drain from your face. 

     It was them. They were here for revenge. 

     You just wanted Amanda. Was that too much to ask?

-

     Things continued like this for a week. Adam Johns and Michael Pierce were there everyday, waiting for you downstairs. 

     They would beat you then proceed to have sex with your limp, unconscious body. You thought it hurt the first time but this...this was unbearable. Sometimes, you’d disconnect mentally and just go into a state of nothingness. You didn’t feel, you couldn’t hear; it was just nothing. You wished that you could feel nothing all the time and leave this life. But you couldn’t. This was reality; your reality. And there was nothing you could do about it.

     Should’ve let me jump

-

     The blonde detective was walking from the cafe, on her way to work when she heard whimpers nearby. 

     She walked towards the sound with her hand hovering above her holster, just in case. She surveyed the area and what she saw broke her heart. 

     “Oh, sweetheart.” 

     “I told you they were going to come for me.”

-

     Rollins called Liv and told her the news. She immediately took you to the hospital, hoping that this time you could get a rape kit and put those bastards away for good. 

     She went into the room you were resting in and immediately saw your disheveled state. She was quick to run over and pull you in her arms. 

     That was all it took for you to completely break down. All you wanted these past few weeks was a loving touch; someone who would vow to take care of you no matter how broken or disconnected you seemed to be. All you wanted was Amanda. She was there when no one else was. She showed you the most affection since your mother died. 

     “We’re gonna put those bastards away for good. They’ll never be able to hurt you again. I promise you.” 

     For some reason you believed her. 

-

     “Manda c’mon! We’re gonna be late!” 

     “Okay, okay! I’m coming.” 

     It had been almost a whole year since you were last assaulted and you’ve been living with Amanda since. She was an excellent mother to you and you couldn’t have asked for a better life. 

     Admittedly, it was tough on both of you at first; you had to get used to someone helping and taking care of you as well and Amanda had to care for a child which is already a tough job let alone a child with major trauma. But the two of you made it work. 

     In weird ways, you bettered each other. 

     The detective came down the hall and grabbed her purse before walking towards you and swinging her arm across your shoulders. 

     “Finally. You know those hooligans can gobble up a whole 3 course meal in a span of 10 minutes. We’ll be lucky if an appetizer is left.” 

     The woman chuckled at your dramatics before heading towards the door with you in tow. 

     Living with your newfound parent made you happy; an emotion you had forgotten how to feel. The squad made you happy. 

     ‘I’m glad I didn’t jump.’

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

The ending lowkey sucks ngl. Hope you all liked it though!

[katnissmellarkkk]

I *DEMAND* part 3 of shattered pearl. I repeat. I *DEMAND*.

Hahahahaha omg. Well, I decided to legitimately dig through the archives of my writing drafts and found chapter three of the Peeta-Wasn’t-Hijacked fic. It’s been given like 1,000 different names on different sites. I’ve never loved any of them. And I don’t really think this is my best writing ngl. But I also figure ... why be so stingy, ya know? If I have an incomplete draft, that I probably won’t finish, why not post a little bit? Especially since I literally left everyone and their brother who were reading this fic on a cliffy for over a year.

With that said.... I wrote this part like ... 15 months ago? 14 ? 13 ? Something like that. And I haven’t edited it since so ... yeah! Here’s a small chunk of chapter three! 🥳🥳🥳 Hope it’s better than I remember it being!

But it’s lacking something and it’s only then I realize, what I’m searching for inside Gale’s mouth, is the spark that only Peeta’s ever ignited in me. I keep waiting in vain for the warmth that started in my stomach and then rose up and exploded in my chest, for the craving that no matter what I couldn’t manage to satisfy, for the thrilling, almost hysterical, tingly feeling, to overcome me and leave me lightheaded in a completely foreign way. A way that couldn’t be attributed to lack of oxygen.

But it never does. I pull back and wipe my mouth carelessly on my arm and sigh, already sensing Gale’s demeanor taking a nose dive at my lackluster reaction.

I’m not disappointed when I look to see his expression. His eyes are frustrated, his mouth is downturned, his eyebrows are pinched together. And I feel as bad as I knew I would. Because no matter what, I’m hurting someone I deeply care for.

But how I feel upon seeing Gale’s face isn’t even comparable to the amount of remorse that fills me, that overtakes my entire being, when I see Peeta standing in the doorway, having watched our entire exchange.

/

I yelled his name as he disappeared down the hall. I tried to rip out all the needles and wires connecting me to the machines and the stiff, sterilized bed but Gale used all his strength to push me down flat. I was overpowered and exhausted and my left side was screaming mercilessly, and I don’t even know what pain was the bruised lung and what pain was my hurt ribs and what pain was my heart violently smashing into the pit of my stomach.

All I know is that if I had been able to reach Peeta before he evaporated, I have no clue what I would have said to him.

What I could have said to make it alright.

Gale tried to talk to me again after that but I entirely tuned him out, no longer caring if I wounded his feelings, or anyone else's for that matter.

It seems like no matter what I do, no matter how careful or cautious or preemptive I try to be, someone still got hurt in the end.

I wish I could just shut out the world, like I did during those first few weeks in Thirteen. Hide inside closets when I had a flashback. Shove myself into a minuscule crawl space with every nightmare. Refuse to speak to anyone who wasn't Gale or my family. Only eat when my mother nearly forced me. Show no remorse for how rude or how clinically insane I came across.

But now there was an agreement in place, an agreement I made to protect the victors—namely the one who just disappeared down the hall on me—and the people who had no voice on their own. The people who’s only chance was a half-crazed, shell-shocked, battle worn seventeen year old girl, who was just gunned down on national television.

Even if I wanted to retreat to some safe haven inside my head—if such a thing even existed for me—like Annie Cresta, I knew it could never happen.

For me, that wasn’t an option. If I don’t fulfill my duties to Coin, Peeta, Johanna, Annie and probably countless more people will suffer. The districts would undoubtably suffer. Gale would suffer. My mother and Prim would suffer.

I was proven right when later that same night Plutarch came to visit me again. I'd been lying on my side to avoid having to see Gale, who was still soldered to my bedside. My good side was thankfully opposite his seat.

When the Gamemaker spoke I thought I would be forced back to work. Forced to head back to the rebels and engage in their plans.

And I was resigned to it, well aware all along that I wouldn't be given the luxury of time to grieve the hurt I just caused Peeta. Or even the pain I knew I was inflicting upon Gale. The constant seesaw my heart was bouncing up and down on.

I was endlessly thankful that I was still pumped with morphling when Plutarch said that I was needed in Coin's office, because it heavily suppressed any real emotion I had brewing deep inside.

Morphling can cause you to let down your guard sometimes, make you say or do things you wouldn't otherwise or allow things to happen you'd ordinarily have the sense to stop. But it also causes all your severe emotions, all your heightened feelings, to dull as well. And for that, in light of everything that had just transpired, I was eternally grateful for.

When the doctor had removed all the needles from my arm, and I had been given a robe to go over my hospital gown—which, shockingly, was even uglier and thinner and itchier than the gowns they gave in the Capitol hospitals—Gale escorts me down the halls, through the corridors and to President Coin’s office.

I don’t speak to him the entire time. Looking at him makes my stomach churn with remorse and regret, though I’m not even sure who those feelings are directed towards. I’m not even sure how to articulate the way I feel right now.

And, as much as I try to force him out of my mind—as much as I do my best to rip him out from wherever he crawled beneath my skin and flooded into my veins—I inexplicably miss Peeta.

In more ways than I even know how to decipher. Even inside my own head.

I thought that feeling of longing would have ebbed away once he was rescued from Snow and his twisted mansion, but even knowing he’s safe here in Thirteen, I still crave his presence next to me.

I still want him next to me almost all the time.

It’s at least partially attributable to the fact that for so long, it was me and Peeta against the world. He has been my partner in this whirlwind rollercoaster since the first games and, even when I feel like every single aspect that could potentially go wrong has, sometimes it seems like I couldn’t have gotten luckier with who was chosen that fateful reaping to stand by my side the entire horrific ride.

I wipe my eyes as inconspicuously as I can but Gale sees and almost instinctively puts his hand on my shoulder. And proves he knows me better than I give him credit for. “I’ll talk to him, Katniss.”

“Don’t,” I immediately hiss. “You’ll just make it worse, Gale. He-he,” I struggle with explaining what I want to say and I curse my best friend for even addressing my moment of weakness because now I have to go talk to Coin, looking like an unstable mess—with a near bullet wound—and I blurt out the very first thing I can think of. “He doesn’t even know you, okay? You’ll just-“

There’s no malice in Gale’s voice as he softly replies, “Well, he was fine when I went and saw him before you woke up.”

I stop now, dead in my tracks. “You saw him? After I was shot?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, I felt like should check on him. I know...” He pauses and looks upwards and I recognize, once again, this whole thing isn’t easy for him either. “I know he means a lot to you. And I heard what happened when he saw you go down. So I went and checked in on him...” He stops again before shrugging nonchalantly. “He was calmer by the time I saw him. He was nice. He’s always been nice.” At that Gale rolls his eyes. “Too nice. Probably why Snow wanted to hurt him.”

I start walking again, moving ahead of him a few paces. “You’re not helping,” I state, my voice a monotone.

“I’ll talk to him,” Gale offers again, running to catch up.

“Please don’t, okay? Just let it be. I don’t even know if he’ll speak to me, I don’t want to have to worry about what you’ll say to him.”

I vigorously shake off his hand on my shoulder when he tries to comfort me again, and feel him root into place as I make the rest of the way to Coin’s office.

And I wonder if I hurt him now too.

I wonder if I managed to completely annihilate them both from me in one night.

/

Much to my surprise and, to be completely honest, my utter disappointment, Coin doesn’t want me to head back out and fight for the rebellion. She doesn’t want me to even film more propos.

Plutarch does, but his ideas now are pretty frivolous and have more to do with him being still stuck in the fantasy of putting on a good show and less to do with fighting for the good of the country.

Coin simply says, “You did your job, Miss Everdeen. You united the districts,” in her calm, disingenuous—completely unsettling—tone.

And argument I put up is met with a simple shake of the head and a pursing of her lips. All indisputable rejections, her cold, blank eyes telling me wordlessly that in no way could I sway her once her mind was made up.

Still doesn’t stop me from trying though.

“I want to help the rebels,” I plead, looking to Boggs behind Coin’s chair, his face still stoic but his eyes giving me a look that isn’t altogether dismissive.

That was something. It was more than I was getting from either Coin or Plutarch.

Coin though brushes off my words and cuts me down infuriatingly quick with a single sentence. “Plutarch wanted to see Peeta earlier, talk about some propos. But when he sent for him, one of the doctors working with Peeta said he wasn’t having a good day.”

Her tone is smooth and pleasant enough but there was an undercurrent to her words that she knew I would hear. “Do you know how Peeta is? I would have thought with your waking up this morning, he’d be in better shape than he was but if you two aren’t getting-“

“Me and Peeta are fine,” I snap, not liking whatever she’s implying.

She nods, slowly at me, choosing her next sentiment carefully. “Well, let’s hope so. We need both of you now to remain the faces of this revolution. And I wouldn’t want you to do anything rash because of... problems between you and your... between you and Peeta.”

I’m shaking my head, feigning certainty, before she even finishes. “That’s not why I want to help the rebels,” I insist firmly.

“Irregardless, Miss Everdeen, we don’t have a job for you. You aren’t qualified to go into the fight and we no longer need your propos to unite the districts. Your job is done. Thank you for your help.”

And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I’m being definitively dismissed now. Indefinitely.

I don’t make any effort to keep my cool, instead choosing to storm out of the room, slamming the door cacophonously behind me and wonder why I let that woman get to me so much. Why her words and implications slice me open like a knife.

Why no matter how much I try, I just can’t like her.

Something about her rubs me the wrong way and, once again, I wish Peeta was here with me in the room, because he of all people could understand what about Coin felt off and strange and so familiar.

I curse myself again, as I suddenly miss him even more than before.

Unable to force myself to put my focus elsewhere—especially now that Gale is surely angry too—I change directions and head towards the recovery room.

I don’t even knock before entering. I push the door open, only to find him sitting on top of his bed, a sketchbook in hand, a lot more tranquil than I pictured.

He looks up as I enter—and then, simultaneously freeze in the doorway, like the coward I truly am inside. Before he can speak though, I blurt out, “I know you’re mad about me kissing Gale and I don’t know how much you saw or heard, but it wasn’t... it wasn’t exactly...” I stop because once again, I’m unprepared and out of my element and have no rhyme or reason in what I’m trying to say. I don’t know the right thing to say. I never know the right thing to say.

Maybe if I did, I wouldn’t screw always everything up. “It wasn’t,” I finally force myself to continue, off his patient and somewhat bewildered glance. “It wasn’t what I wanted... I didn’t want it to happen. I don’t, I don’t even know what-“

He finally puts me out of my misery now. “Katniss,” he speaks my name along with a sigh. I watch carefully, feeling a lump build in my throat, as his blonde brows furrow over his baby blues.

He shakes his head, slow and calm. Far more reasonable than I ever anticipated. “I’m not mad at you, Katniss,” he promises, with all the genuineness in the world.

I bite my lip, befuddled by his words. “But... where have you been then?” Why did you leave me? A small voice in the back of my mind demands.

He shrugs, his gaze falling down to his bed now. His demeanor is almost embarrassed, I realize with a start.

“I wanted to give you and Gale space. I’ve been practically mauling you since you woke up so I thought-“

“But I didn’t want you to leave,” I abruptly burst out, unable to shove the words down any longer.

A pang of embarrassment shoots through me though, for the pathetic crack, evident in my tone. And I mentally berate myself.

Not for the embarrassment. For the pathetic crack itself.

And for the fact that somehow I’m the frenzied one here and Peeta is the voice of reason.

Which used to be our norm but after everything that’s transpired, I would have thought things would be reversed by now.

He just stares at me for a long moment, carefully considering his next words.

Finally, he opens his arms slowly and utters, “Come here,” in a tender murmur and I practically fly into his arms before I can second guess the offer.

I feel my injured side screaming as I curl up like a ribbon in his arms, but I surpress the wince to the best of my ability and instead bury my face in his shoulder, breathing in his sweet scent like a mad girl.

He softly presses his lips to my messy locks, carefully massaging the back of my head soothingly. “I’m sorry I ran away,” he whispers, barely loud enough for even me to hear. “I was just embarrassed. I know—I’ve always known deep down—that it’s not right for me to constantly hold you to the things you said in the games. Or to project my own feelings onto you.”

“You didn’t,” I refute venomously, my brows knitting together.

“Katniss, I know you and Gale have had something between you for a long time.”

“Gale was just a friend until me and you came back from our first games. Maybe he wanted to be more even before, I don’t know, but I never felt anything romantic for him. I swear.”

“You don’t have to defend your feelings to me,” he states softly.

“I know, it’s just...” I sigh, moving to sit upright across his thighs. “No matter what I do, it’s wrong. If I say I’m confused, you’re both hurting. If I say I want to kiss you or sleep with you or just be with you, I’m leading you on because I can’t-I can’t make any promises about my feelings right now, because I don’t even know up from down anymore. And if I say I do or don’t want to kiss Gale or be around him or hunt with him still, I’m hurting him or giving him the wrong idea or telling him the wrong things, and it all gets confused and there’s an entire rebellion that I’m the face of, and now I don’t even know if I’m a part of that, but Snow and his followers all hate me still so I know family still won’t be safe until this is all over. And you. You and Johanna and Annie went through the ringer over me. And Gale gets upset whenever he sees us together—it hurts him to see us—but I can’t always seperate you two from one another and I just-I don’t know what I can do. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Peeta lets me rant the whole entire spiel out, his hand slowly moving in circles to rub my back, from the top of my spine down to my backside. “Katniss,” he whispers once I’m done. “You don’t have to defend yourself to me. I get it. You’re under immense pressure. The last thing I want to do is make things harder on you.”

“You’re not,” I say, shaking my head insistently. “You’re not making anything worse, Peeta. It’s-it’s not you.”

“Okay,” he concedes and unconsciously wraps me up tighter in his arms. “Just relax, okay? Relax and breathe.”

I quiver and quake against him. “I don’t think I can.”

I barely realize I’m crying until Peeta leans down to kiss my tearstained cheek softly. “Katniss, it’s okay. I’m not mad. And Gale shouldn’t be. If he is, then that’s on him. The rebellion isn’t just your responsibility. Do not let them put all that weight on your shoulders. I know they already have but it’s not all your responsibility. And no one is going to let anything happen to your mom or sister.” He pushes my hair away from my forehead, pressing his lips there for a long moment. “Or you. I promise I will not let anything else happen to you.”

I swallow hard as he rests his forehead against my temple. I squeeze my eyes shut in hopes that it will make my head stop spinning somehow. Deep breaths to center myself fail miserably and in the end, I feel my bruised ribs and lung disagree with the movement and ache worse than before.

Peeta feels me cringing against him in pain and remains careful as he shifts, reaching for something off his bedside table.

I’m in too much pain to react as pushes off my robe and tugs my hospital gown down in order to slide against my skin, his hand holding it firmly to my side.

The icy temperature brings some sort of relief to me almost instantly, and I let out an audible sigh of relief, feeling my rigid body relax even a minuscule amount for the first time.

“I don’t blame you for having feelings for Gale,” Peeta murmurs, drawing my attention back to our conversation and away from my painful left side. “And if you want to be with him, I won’t hold it against you. I’m not going to lie, I’d be ... sad but... it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be your friend. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be at jere for you however you needed me. There’s no ultimatums here, Katniss. I’m still here for you, even if you’d rather be with Gale.”

I pause for a long moment, absorbing his words. He’d be willing to be my friend, even if I hurt him? Even if I chose someone else over him? Even after everything we went through, even after all the ways he’d been abused because Snow could see how much I care for him? How much I need him. He’s still willing to put it all aside and be there for me, no strings attached.

And I try not to compare but my brain draws the conclusion almost involuntarily, and I can’t stop myself from realizing that, in the same position, Gale would likely not be telling me the same thing.

I burrow my face deeper in his shoulder, shutting my eyes in exhaustion.

Peeta catches me off-guard, moving my hair aside to kiss my neck, eliciting a flare of heat in the place where his lips brush my skin, and I may not know exactly how I feel, but I know in that moment exactly what I want right now.

“The only person I want to be with tonight is you,” I whisper honestly, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to somehow understand an emotion I don’t know how to admit. “The only person I want right now is you, Peeta.”

[ambivalent-anarchy]

Fanfic Tropes In A Bunch of Spiderman Fics That I Hate:

(In this instance, I'm putting myself in [y/n]'s shoes)

Disclaimer: I'm not criticizing anybody's writing. Alot of these are just my personal pet peeves and this is just my opinion and shouldn't be taken seriously.

1) Walking In

(I don't really hate this one it's just super funny to me how unrealistic it always is) That one trope in smut fics when the reader walks in on Peter masturbating and it's all embarrassing and they leave but then they come back and they offer to help him get off.

Like...what???

No dates, no relationship. No, this is just your crush that you walked in on and all of a sudden now you're screwing?... No. That's never how those situations work and if it ever does that's mad weird. And if you think PETER PARKER, the king of anxiety is gonna do that??? Ahahahahaha

2) Superhero Secret Identity Issues

It always makes me laugh in fics when Peter's Spiderman secret gets out and the reader ends up getting mad and feeling betrayed and it leads to all that unnecessary drama and he keeps explaining why and all the dangers to telling her and how he wants to keep her safe, but she's still like "tHe DiShOnEsTy"

Like????

If my best friend/boyfriend/love interest has been ghosting me and leaving unanswered questions and I found out it's because this whole time they're literally a superhero and they've been saving lives and almost dying every night, the last thing I would do is get mad at them. I'd be like "oh so now that all makes sense. Now everything's fallen into place." Legit the most Peter Parker would get from me is a "That's awesome! Stay safe tho." I would understand why he would have to lie about that. Maybe I'm just a different breed but it ain't that hard to be understanding.

No one likes being lied to, but when it's literally a life or death issue, you can't at least be a little understanding? I swear the y/n's in these Spiderman fics are so selfish sometimes as if they can't grasp the fact that their boyfriend is a literal superhero. This man has to save the world then come back home and deal with your eMoTiOnS.

3) Love Triangles

Simple. I'm just too loyal for this. If I'm talking to a guy, I'm talking to that one guy. Even if two guys like me, I'm not gonna go around entertaining more than one.

4) Pining

On paper, yeah pining is great.

But in real life??? PINING SUCKS no matter which side of it you're on.

On one side, you're trying to go after someone who has or hasn't made it clear that they don't feel the same way. And that crap hurts. Because you can't stop the feelings, but at the same time, you know it probably won't work. It's a losing battle (even though in most fics they actually do end up getting together because ✨happy endings✨)

And on the other side there's being pined after. Lemme tell you from experience, it's not fun. If I don't like you, and I make that clear. I dare you to try me again. Your face will meet a fist. Don't stare at me from across the room. Don't flirt with me. And I wish you would touch me. Pls give me an excuse to break your legs. It's just pretty uncomfortable and in the end I just feel bad for you.

5) Miscommunication

😂😂😂These characters will be beating around the bush, prancing over the bush, frickin galloping on it. Like SAY WHAT YOU NEED TO SAYYYYYYY. SPIT👏IT👏OUT👏. THESE FICS COULD END IN ONE CHAPTER IF YOU JUST COMMUNICATE WHAT YOU'RE FEELINGGGG.

6) Y/n's

This happens in like every fandom with fanfiction but I see it alot in Peter fics.

It's like writers can't find a common medium with the y/n's their fics. They're either SUPER submissive and overly selfless or SUPER aggressive and overly selfish. Like... that's not the only way to write a character you know that right? There's something called variety.

And then alot of writers, trying to stray away from the submissive, make their main character SO annoying and try to hide behind "characters need flaws!" "They have to have a hubris!"

Yeah... that's valid but there's a difference between a flaw and your character's whole personality just being an aggressively stubborn dweeb. The way some of you guys use that excuse is like trying to apply that logic to Eric Cartman instead of Han Solo.

Literally Peter will be in the hospital dying and the y/n would be like

These y/n's in some of the Peter fics are such selfish and just terrible people that make every issue about themselves ngl that it gets me really questioning how Peter likes them because if I were him, I wouldn't waste my time.

[midearthwritings]

Could I please get an Lotr and The Hobbit Matchup, of you're still doing them? Thanks so much!

🌱 18 year old Woman // Bisexual // Autistic and Disabled with a bonus Anxiety Disorder

🌱 I have a litany of Chronic Illnesses including Autism, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Dyscalculia (Dyslexia for Math), Scoliosis, Sleep Apnea, Asthma, a Growth Hormone Deficiency, Insomnia, and a very bad Overbite. I also have a condition where my right leg is physically longer than my left, which causes pain in my hip and right leg, as well as trouble walking. My usual symptoms include Fatigue, Back Pain, Executive Dysfunction (struggle to get tasks done), Difficulty breathing and talking, Very short stature, and difficulties with my balance. I also stim by pacing around in circles and talking to myself.

🌱 I have a serious fear of heights, partially because of my balance issues. It's so bad that I can't even use stairs without holding onto the railing.

🌱 I know a lot of Home Remedies and Superstitions for like no reason. For instance, did you know that Raspberry Tea helps with Menstrual Pain, or that knocking on wood invokes the protection of the tree spirit and that’s why it’s said to give you luck? I don’t know why I know that, but I do.

🌱 Winning a fight is on my bucket list, but it has to be for a good reason. I’m not one to just pick fights for the sake of fighting, and I’m actually pretty conflict-averse due to trauma, so I need to actually have a solid reason for throwing hands. But I’ve always wanted to do it for some reason.

🌱 I really like studying Witchcraft for some reason. The first spell I ever performed was a Healing Spell to help my friend who was sick with Crohn's Disease. Thirty minutes after performing the ritual, I got a text saying he felt a lot better and he was released from the hospital a couple days later, so I guess it must’ve worked. 😁

🌱 My love language is definitely gift giving. I’m pretty cheap, but I’m also an artist, so when push comes to shove I’ll just make something for someone when I like them. I pay very close attention to what people like because it gives me more ideas on how to interact with them. I’m essentially a large, flightless Crow. You were nice, so you get something shiny. But though I like giving gifts to others, I’m not very materialistic at all. I prefer to be practical when it comes to things, and I get very nervous when spending money on myself.

🌱 I’m an avid writer and am actually planning on publishing a book this summer!

🌱 I LOVE going outside and getting messy. Playing in the mud, getting soaked in the rain, I’m the type to go outside and come back home covered in dirt and twigs. It’s just really fun to me.

🌱 I've been told that I'm a very good cook, and I can bake pretty well too.

🌱 I’ve always wanted to be a really good gardener. My dream house is just covered in flowers and plants and such. I want to live in a Greenhouse, basically.

🌱 I have a habit of giggling to myself just by remembering something funny that happened, even if it was a couple years ago. I also laugh when I do something stupid, because I find my flaws and shortcomings funny for the most part. I love to laugh with people, but never at them.

🌱 I know way too much about Spirits and Fae. My favorite book is called ‘The Encyclopedia of Spirits’ and it shows you how to contact and interact with a ton of different deities and spirits, and I’m addicted to reading it. It’s the best.

🌱 I’m basically like a tiny, less-impressive Aragorn. I love travelling on foot, getting messy outside, I was kind of a Horse Girl as a kid ngl, I’ve always wanted to be a knight or king of some sort, chances are that I haven’t bathed in awhile, and I too would pine for a hot elf girl for literal years on end.

🌱 My closest friends say I give off “Dwobbit” vibes. That’s a ½ Dwarf and ½ Hobbit btw. I’m around 4’ 10” tall, I don’t shave, I love crafting and art, I live in the Mountains, I’m tomboyish but I also love gardening and can be a bit of a homebody, I love going barefoot, etc.

🌱 I really love History, Folklore, Mythology and Fairy Tales. My favorite is the Irish myth of Oisín in Tir Na Nog. Look it up if you don’t know it, it’s a fantastic story. But I also appreciate myths from all sorts of different cultures, like the myth of Annapurna in India or the tale of Princess Kaguya in Japan.

🌱 I’m an Aquarius, INFP and 4w5 if that means anything. For reference, characters who are also 4w5 INFPs include Lydia Deetz (Beetlejuice), Wirt (Otgw), Frankenstein’s Monster, Luna Lovegood (HP), Napstablook (Undertale), Erik The Phantom of the Opera, and Celeste from Animal Crossing. That kinda tells you a lot about me, doesn’t it?

🌱 I am naturally very shy and take awhile to open up to people. I also get flustered very easily and tend to avoid social interaction a lot. I’m a huge introvert, but I also really do love meeting interesting people, so I try to talk to them when I have the energy to.

🌱 I have very long Disheveled brown hair, that actually used to be blonde when I was little, so there’s a few lighter patches in there. It's essentially a fluffy mane at this point, but because of my poor hand-eye coordination I never learned how to braid it. I have really pale skin, with lots of moles, freckles and scabs. It’s also warmer out, so I almost certainly have a farmer’s tan. I have very light blue eyes and glasses.

🌱 I have a habit of seeing shadows move out of the corners of my eyes, frequently mistaking them for people or animals, but when I turn to look there’s nothing there. I’ve gotten my eyesight checked multiple times, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary, so it’s either a lack of sleep, or the Fae are getting antsy with me. Probably the former of course, but part of me would like to believe the latter too.

Sorry the description is so long, I can't wait to see my results! Thanks so much, wishing you the best!!

Hey darling! First, wow that was really long! Sorry for taking so long to make it, as I mentioned before, I'm a fucking procrastinator.

Aragorn

For LOTR, I'm pairing you up with Aragorn.

Aragorn had probably loved you for a really really long time.

But he's extremely patient and careful with you, so it took him a while to confess his love.

When he did, it was kind of overwhelming for you, and you were really doubting the whole thing. But again, he was really patient with you.

Aragorn doesn't cover you in gifts to show his love. He shows it by remembering all those little things that make you you.

The two of you can spend hours telling stories and tales to the other. It's your favorite thing to do together.

He loves that you write and always ask to read your work. Although, he never pushes you and respects you when you refuse.

He knows about every single one of your illnesses and makes sure that you always have what you need.

Bilbo Baggins

For the Hobbit, I picked Bilbo.

Bilbo loves you deeply and truly. He thinks all the things that are annoying to others are what make you the most unique being he has ever met.

He thinks listening to you tell tales is more fascinating than reading.

Most of all, he loves when you read to him the stories that you have created.

Sometimes, your illnesses are a bit complicated for him to understand, but he does his best and listens to your needs.

His favorite thing to do with you is cooking. Sometimes, you will even compete over who is the best cook. Although he admitted more than once that you were.

When you are out gardening, he sits outside with you and watches you. He thinks it's beautiful how hard you work to make his garden look so gorgeous.

He is often insecure about losing you. He is scared that he won't be able to provide you with what you need, or won't be able to show you how much he loves you.

As for you, you fear that one day he might grow tired of you.

But the communication in your relationship is great and your insecurities are even washed away by promises of eternal love.

Again, sorry for the wait! I hope you liked it!

[maariarogers]

behind the scene

Summary: Selena confronts Suho about a few things. Feelings are considered, circumstances are reflected. Characters: Lee Suho and Lee Selena Mentions: Suho x Jugyeong Author’s Note: Follow K-Drama episode 15-ish? In an effort to fix this one particular detail akdhskdfh yes I’m not over the fact they didn’t include this in. What about it? 😤😤😤

PS: Also, in this smol au - Suho did accepted get into MIT because Selena forced him to finish his studies.

READ THIS ON AO3

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“So, you’re dating my intern.”

“Noona,” Suho acknowledges. Lee Selena drops her wallet on the table, sits, and starts to take her earrings off. It’s a little - irritating, but fitting somehow, how she looks like she’s home, even though Suho knows she doesn’t have high opinion on the studio apartment. “No hello?”

“Hello,” Selena parrots. “You’re dating my intern.”

Suho doesn’t answer her.

Selena rolls her eyes, “That, or you’re stalking her.”

“It’s a long story,” Suho doesn’t want to talk about this. There’s just - something about looking at Selena that reminds him of the hollowness he’s been trying to keep at bay. All those time staring solemnly from Father’s hospital room out to the window, missing Jugyeong. Missing Seojun.

And how Selena would come by sometimes. How she never quite judged him, but it’s - similar. Her staring is just as heavy still.

“She was the girl you kept staring at in your phone,” Selena quips. She’s smart. She’s always been smart. Smarter than Suho, even.

Maybe she’s the one who should’ve gotten into MIT, Suho thinks quite depressingly, not really knowing where’d he put the acceptance letter. In a drawer somewhere. Blue file, right? Or was it green?

“Was she the one you left behind?”

“Was that the reason you decided to hire her as an intern?” Suho shoots back, now sitting across from her. He’s serious. And he knows she knows that he’s serious. Suho suddenly feels a wave of guilt coming back like waves to the shore - was his family’s influence directing Jugyeong’s life? Would this be called manipulation? Would this mean he has the upper-hand, again living only in the shadows of his family while they place him in their lives however they see fit?

Because he doesn’t want that. Not with Jugyeong. Never with Jugyeong.

“I thought she looked familiar,” comes the ugly confession from Selena. Fuck, Suho thinks, already feels like he could cry. He wants to chase her out, wants to have this upcoming panic attack in his own company, but Selena leans back against the chair. Her hair flops with her movement. “But no - she applied like most interns did. And I see a potential in her.”

Suho’s eyes glance up.

So, you see it, apart of him bites in relief.

“Plus, she’s a fan. She said it several times, in fact.” He knows. After all, wasn’t he the one bugging Selena for her touring schedule a few years ago just so he could prepare the surprise for Jugyeong? “She’s been disappointing me lately, though.”

“She has?” Was it because of him? He’d come back uninvited, he’d return like he never left. Right. Stupid. Why had he thought that was ever okay? Shit, what if Selena fires her? Would it be because of him? Suho’s stomach drops. “She’s - she’s been having a hard time—”

“Why are you making excuses for her, baby brother?”

Selena’s voice comes out in steel. Suho thinks he recognises it; sometimes he mimics it. Where had they gotten it from, he wonders? By themselves? Because Father was always charming, and their mother .... she was always so gentle-hearted. But not Lee Selena and Lee Suho. They’re made differently; they came out jagged and sharp.

“I’m not,” Suho argues, but that’s a lie, he knows.

Selena doesn’t buy it.

“You’re lucky we’re related and you don’t work for me,” She stands up then, caresses his face. Just like she would do back then, whenever she finds him hiding in the crooks and quiet places of their family villa, trying to hide from the world. She grasps at him like she wants so desperately to save him, save her little brother, but they’re both so helpless, hands tied behind their backs. What could she have done about a father who wasn’t there? How could she have played the role of a mother when that wasn’t hers?

And then Selena left to study. Suho was on his own again.

“I won’t give her special treatments if that’s what you’re worrying about.” Selena says a moment later, passing him to enter the kitchen. Suho could see now that there are boxes that she’s brought splayed on the table. Cookware, utensils, plates and cups: all in new white boxes wrapped in plastic.

He touches it.

Suho feels bad, for a second, that he found her irritating at all.

“Whether she dates you or don’t, it won’t affect how I oversee the people who works under me.”

Suho feels the tightness in his chest breaks apart. Good, he thinks. That was the one thing he knew he could’ve counted on his sister, that she rarely plays around when it comes to the reputation she built, the career she had, but - it still unnerves him. Is this really a good thing? Shouldn’t Jugyeong has some benefits, after all?

“You should tell her,” Selena’s voice grows softer. Suho looks to her sister: his fierce, determined older sister. Even in the face of gentleness, she has the foundation of a solid concrete and metal. Storms couldn’t have tumbled her down. Suho wishes, a little desperately, that he could have only a minuscule of that strength for himself. “That we’re related. Or you’ll drive yourself mad with thinking you deceived her.”

Suho doesn’t say anything.

“Have you taken your medication?”

“I was going to have dinner first,” He tells her, taking hold of the boxes in plastic and carrying it over to the kitchen counter. Selena’s effort is seamless; she receives what he puts down, and begins to unpack. Suho could only follow.

“Good. I’ll have dinner with you.”

Suho looks down, slows his own movement.

“Noona,” he calls, suddenly feels as if he has a fist right in his throat, and he’s working his voice around it. Suho feels like he’s back to being ten years old, scared, and not being sure who to hold. Their grandmother, Selena herself, or the ghost of their parents. “Thank you.”

“Do you love her?” She asks instead, without even looking up. “The intern.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “So much.”

“Then be careful, baby brother.” She’s strict. Never one for sentimentality. Almost like Jugyeong’s own sister, Heegyeong, except there’s always warmth in the Lim family, in how they move and talk and communicate. The Lees, not so much. “Don’t overdo it. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Jugyeong doesn’t hurt me,” not like he has. The pain inside his chest blooms.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t hurt yourself.” Again, the sharpness in the way she replies. Selena means business. Suho probably should gets used to this - but he just isn’t.

“Thank you,” Suho whispers, but he feels inadequate. Like it isn’t enough. He’s right - he can’t look at Selena for too long. All those time in the hospital, all those moment he almost called. She knows too much about him, his sister, and Suho’s not used to it.

(But maybe it is a good thing. Maybe it’s - nice, even, to know he’s seen by his family. That Selena always comes back, no matter the time and place. The sister who did save him: finding him this place after he didn't want to be with Grandmother anymore, setting up his therapy sessions, forcing him to finish his studies.)

“Thank you, Noona.”

“Silly boy. Stop crying. Here—” Selena hands an open set of spoons and forks. “Put this away.”

Suho does.

Author’s Note: ngl I might make this a series lol

[twoidiotwriters1]

Déjà Vu (Or are we losing our minds?) XI -Modern!Shirbert

A/N: Ngl This is one of my favourites -Danny

Words: 3,377

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Eleven: Everyone's enemy is on their wrist.

'She was not a chapter,

                 She was the whole story.'

The date had gone alright, though the girl wasn't very interested in having a second meeting. He couldn't blame her, he'd been absent half of the time. Whenever a red glimpse of something would catch his eye he would perk up in his seat only to be met with disappointment.

However, he lied to his friends saying he'd had a blast and maybe he'd go out with the girl another day, though he already knew that was never going to happen.

He fell face-first on his bed with a groan, not even trying to change into his pyjamas, and in a matter of seconds, he was fast asleep.

__________________

Anne was officially having a bad Christmas break.

She was alone in her room, binge-watching movies and bawling. Fortunately, Marilla and Matthew had decided to visit Rachel so she was alone, otherwise, they'd be very worried about her mental health.

She'd considered calling either Cole or Diana, but she decided not to, she didn't want to ruin their holidays. She could've called Jerry, but he'd said something about taking his siblings to meet Santa and Anne didn't feel like going out and being miserable in public.

So she was alone and crying to shitty rom-coms. It wasn't even that she was crying for Roy, she was just... lonely. She didn't need a relationship to feel whole, but Roy had taken advantage of her naivety, he'd tricked her into believing he was the one, only to crush every single one of her dreams by cheating on her.

In conclusion, Anne just felt like her first experience had been enough to obliterate all her optimism. Love was a decision. Soulmates were a scam, and she was a twenty-three-year-old destined to be alone forever.

__________________

Anne was moving into her new apartment and slowly building the life she wanted to have forever.

There was a little problem, though. Her soulmate was an asshole.

Now, you're not obliged to marry your soulmate, or to love them romantically. But Anne has always dreamed about her sweet, beautiful wedding, and she'd always dreamed it would be with her soulmate, so she was determined to make it work.

Roy didn't agree. He was a 'free soul', and he wanted to stay that way. Even though Anne loved him like she'd never loved anyone before.

Either way, Roy was her soulmate and -someone knocked on the door, Anne didn't hear it- it was her duty to help him see they were meant to be and—

The knocks became so insistent and loud that the ground vibrated under her feet. She took off her earphones and ran up to the door, thinking that maybe it was the pizza she'd ordered.

"Sorry!" She ran to get her bag. "Coming!"

When she opened the door, however, there was no pizza delivery. Instead, a very grumpy-looking man was glaring at her, and he was holding...

"Rusty!" Anne gasped.

"Your cat jumped on me when I climbing up the stairs!" He exclaimed.

"How do you know it's mine?"

"Well, because you're the new neighbour and this monster wasn't here yesterday," The man frowned. "And you just called it Rusty!"

"He's not a monster, he's playful!"

"Yeah, well, he didn't feel playful when he tried to gauge my eyes out!"

"Oh, you're one of those," Anne scoffed, grabbing her cat and gently placing him on the kitchen counter.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her new neighbour scowled at her.

"You think cats are heartless beings that only wish to kill humans. As if humans are actually that worthy..."

He gaped and moved his mouth without actually speaking, then he just scoffed and turned around.

"You know what, I don't have time for this. I just came back from a nightshift and I'm tired, just don't let it happen again..."

Anne felt a sting of annoyance, who was he to boss her around?

The man left before she could say anything to him, but to her dismay, he barely walked a few meters before entering the apartment next to hers. That was not ideal.

"A little help here, Anne?" Diana called from the stairs.

The woman helped Diana carry the box, she also told her all about the unfortunate incident with the man living next door, and Diana let out a quiet gasp.

"You annoyed Dr Blythe? No, Anne! I was planning on asking him out!"

"It's not my fault he's an idiot!" She said defensively. "You can ask him out if you want, but I must say you can do better than a grumpy dude..."

"Gilbert's not grumpy! He was so kind to me when I came to see the apartment the first time! You probably had the misfortune to get on his nerves while he was sleep-deprived. He works a lot..."

Anne dropped the box abruptly.

"How did you call him?"

"What? Gilbert?" She repeated. "Well, that's his name."

"Ohohoh!" Anne hurriedly lifted her right sleeve. "No no no no Diana! You can't date him!"

"What?!" Diana got closer and read the thin letters across Anne's wrist. "Oh, c'mon, Anne! Just one date?"

"No! There's a reason I'll hate him, what if the reason is that he'll break your heart?" Anne hid the name and shook her head energetically "You can't date him."

The rules were simple. Two names tattooed on your body. One soulmate, one swore enemy. Roy was her soulmate, she'd loved him for years. This Gilbert was destined to be her personal headache for a long, long time. Which explained why Rusty had been so rude to him, he could probably sense the bad vibes.

"What kind of name is Gilbert, anyway?" Anne scoffed. "Sounds like an idiot..."

"He's not. He really isn't," Diana said, closing the door behind her. "Anne please, just listen to me, he's sweet and smart and he's a doctor!"

"And he's meant to make my life a living hell!" Anne finished.

***

All Gilbert wanted was to have a six-hour nap. Why did God hate him?

The girls moving next door were loud and continued to argue through the day, although he couldn't hear what were they fighting about. Either way, he just wanted to have a quiet evening.

He never got his quiet evening, that night nor the next four. The redheaded nightmare was always causing some kind of mishap, he could hear things falling and breaking, he even heard her scream 'Fire!' once and her roommate's voice going 'ANNE, NOT AGAIN–'

Anne.

He had that name on his wrist.

No no no no no no.

There's no way this girl was his soulmate.

***

It was 7 am on a Saturday and Anne was coming back from yet another sleepless night fighting with Roy. Her eyes felt heavy, and her nose was red from the cold and the crying. She was thankful she'd come home early, Diana was probably either taking a shower or still sleeping, but at least she wouldn't be able to see how messy she looked.

Just as she was reaching the landing of her floor, a figure crashed against her, sending her back down the stairs. Anne yelped and landed weirdly on her wrist. She heard Gilbert swearing loudly and rushing to her side.

"Great," She muttered in anger. "'Course you had to be here..."

"I'm so sorry!" Gilbert kneeled next to her. "Are you injured?"

"Just my pride," She replied bluntly. "Listen, doctor, why don't you leave me alone? I can take care of myself."

"How do you..?" He shook his head. "Nevermind. Please stop acting tough and let me help you, it's my fault you fell... though you should see where you're walking from time to time..."

"You're trying to help me or are you trying to make me hate you more?"

"Hate– Hate me?" He asked in surprise. "Why do you hate me?"

"Because you're my enemy, that's why!"

"What?" He frowned. "You think I'm your–?"

"I don't think, I know," She stood up hastily, refusing his help. "You, Gilbert Blythe, are my swore enemy. And you should know that by now, my name must be on your wrist too, take a look. I'm Anne."

Gilbert just stared at her, she could not tell what that meant, but it wasn't the spiteful glare she was expecting.

"Okay," He said after a moment. "...Yeah, if that makes sense to you..."

"What's that supposed to– argh!"

Gilbert forced her to sit back on the steps as he looked for injuries. When he found his broken wrist, he nodded once and stood up.

"You're coming with me," He said, grabbing her bag and hanging it over his shoulder. "C'mon, we have to fix that hand."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" Anne exclaimed. "What if this is just a plan to kill me?"

"Oh yes, Anne. I just found out you're my enemy so of course, my first reaction will be to try and murder you," He raised a brow. "I'm taking you to the hospital, don't be dramatic."

Anne swore under her breath, but she didn't refuse his help this time as he gently pulled her up to her feet. Both adults walked quietly side by side until Anne spoke in a sort of childish manner.

"I need a nap..."

"That makes two of us," He huffed. "You are the loudest neighbour ever, I haven't been able to sleep at all whenever you're home."

"I prefer the term feisty," She said. "You could've just knocked on our door and told me to be quiet."

"Yeah? And you surely would've reacted in a gentle fashion, right?"

Anne turned up her nose, ignoring the sarcastic way he'd said it.

"Well of course! I'm not a monster! Even though you insist on calling me and my cat that way..."

"I never called you a monster," He said. "I called you loud. And rude. And–"

"Yeah okay, got it."

Once in the road, Gilbert remained silent, but she could feel him staring out of the corner of his eye. She kept her brows furrowed, not only because of him but because of her fight with Roy. She couldn't even remember what was the fight about, but she just knew it had been awful, and sometimes she just wanted to chuck that big head of his down the–

"We're here!" Gilbert turned to look at her. "C'mon, the faster we heal you the quicker you can walk away from your 'enemy'."

Anne stared at him without knowing whether if he was mocking or not. He seemed amused, but Anne didn't know why.

"Why are you acting like it's a joke? You know we're enemies, I'm on your wrist!"

"Well, yeah, there's an Anne on my wrist," Gilbert raised a brow. "But who says it's you?"

"Because I have you on my wrist! And Gilbert is not a common name these days, is it? I've never heard it until now, honestly–"

The man laughed, his whole face lit up and he looked away, slightly shaking his head.

"What?" She groaned. "What's so funny?"

"You're so upset about this!" He snorted. "You know that whole thing about enemies and soulmates is only relevant if you're like twelve, right?"

Anne had heard enough. Of course her enemy was going to be her complete opposite, of course he was going to be blunt and sceptic, and annoying and so so boring!

***

He knew Anne was his soulmate for the sole fact that the name on his left wrist was a man's. One that he knew already, and he disliked deeply. Although just like he'd said, hating out loud was a very childish thing to do. Or at least, that was his opinion.

However, he could not bring himself to clear things out. She was so determined on hating him it was almost cute, she was really trying. Besides, messing with his soulmate for a bit longer sounded fun, and she would find out the truth eventually, once she met her real nemesis.

He waited until Anne was fixed and ready, he didn't want to start his shift worrying about leaving her alone.

Anne was less pouty and defensive when she walked out, but now she looked overworked. She'd looked exhausted all morning, and he wondered if he was the real reason why she was so angry to start with.

"Let's get you lunch," He told her. When he noticed she was about to argue back, he added, "my treat! I pushed you down the stairs, after all. Consider this your payback, once we're even you can hate me all you want and I can, I don't know, try to poison your cat or something."

Anne stared at him in alarm.

" If something ever happens to my cat I'll kill you, Blythe."

***

Gilbert insisted on taking her home, and she was (regrettably) not as angry at him as before. That could always change though, enemies don't have to hate each other all the time, it'd be tiring.

"Did you mean what you say a while ago?" She questioned. "About soulmates and rivals not being relevant unless you're a kid?"

"Well... a bit," He shrugged. "What I meant to say is that you shouldn't let it consume you. Life is about way more than just the people you're meant to meet. And if you really think about it, it's just two people, you'll meet more throughout the course of your life, and who's to say you won't love or hate them more than the ones that marked you?"

Anne stared at him having nothing to say. It was weird, being rendered speechless. That doesn't happen to her often. Gilbert must've misread this, since he blushed madly and shook his head.

"I'm talking nonsense. Sorry, everyone always tells me that... Apparently, I'm too unrealistic to work in the medical field," He chuckled. "Like that makes me any less good..."

"I think that what you said was beautiful," It was her turn to get flustered. "Er... well, but you should check that narcissistic speech you've got."

"I prefer the term confident," He smiled.

"Sure you do..."

As they reached her doorstep, she stopped and turned, staring at him with a little frown.

"I gotta ask, Blythe. Any normal person would be at least a bit wary around their foe. Even if you are one of those who think 'keep your enemies close' is a wise move."

"You didn't ask anything," He said with a little smile.

"I'm getting to that! Geez," She rolled her eyes. "Why are you so unbothered about this? Do you... Have you not... you know, met your soulmate?"

"Have you?"

"Yeah."

***

He was not expecting that answer. He had to play it cool, though, so he tried his best to hide his disappointment.

"Oh."

Yeah, that'll do it.

Idiot.

Maybe he'd gotten two enemies? That'd be really shitty.

Then again, God really did hate him.

"Listen, Anne," He tried again. "It's a silly belief, you don't have to waste your time hating me if you don't want to. Honestly, I think it'd do us a favour, wouldn't it be better to simply stay away from your nemesis now that you know who he is?"

"I... I guess," She replied, but she didn't sound as certain as before. "So you really haven't met your person?"

Gilbert hesitated, then decided to keep up his lighthearted attitude.

"I mean, I met the other name a while ago, when I was in Highschool," He admitted. "But I'm starting to think that maybe I judged him wrong... although he was an asshole and I can't see myself spending my nights with such an idiot."

Anne let out a soft giggle.

"Maybe you were too harsh on him? Like I was with you?"

"Well, the thing is that I never liked him. From the moment I met him I just knew he was a fool. But wouldn't it be funny if I give him a call and end up falling for him now?" He snorted. "After all the stuff I said about him when I was a kid... Even gave him a nickname: 'Royal piece of shit'. It took me like five seconds. That's his real name. Royal."

"What?"

"I know, right? Who calls his son like that?"

"Royal?" She insisted. "As in Roy?"

"I'm pretty sure it's Roy as in Royal," He tilted his head. "Why?"

"Royal Garner?"

"Yeah! Wait– You know him?"

Anne hurriedly took off her jacket and threw it aside, showing him her wrist.

"I got him too!" Anne exclaimed. "But he's my... Oh my god! I hate him!" She laughed sort of maniacally. "I hate his guts! Oh god, I'm so relieved! I thought I was stuck with a shitty partner! Oh my..." She gazed down in sudden realization. "I've been holding back all my opinions on him because I thought he was my soulmate! I had a crush on him and when we started dating he turned out to be awful! I assumed you were my enemy because, well, I liked him first and I never thought I'd like my enemy! And I just straight-up disliked you the first time we talked!"

Gilbert was having a hard time processing all the information Anne was dropping on him.

"Wait," He said a bit stupidly. "Does that mean we're meant to hate the same person?"

"Yeah!" She said brightly. "I'm going to break up with him right now!"

She turned around and opened the door to her apartment, then stopped again.

"Are you free on Sunday?"

"Wha– Yeah, I guess?" He said, still trying to understand what was happening. "You're dating Roy Garner?"

"Technically yes, but that's about to change!" She was suddenly so giddy it looked like she'd absorbed all his energy. "I'll break up with him and then I'll take you out this Sunday– Consider it a thank you for paying my lunch today– And an apology for being such a shitty soulmate..."

"You're far from being shitty, Anne," He declared. He wasn't sure of what was going on, but it seemed he'd gotten a date with his soulmate, so he wasn't complaining. "See you Sunday, then?"

"See you!" She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek before stepping into her apartment and closing the door.

"Okay," He mumbled, then let out a burst of nervous laughter. "Okay..."

__________________

Gilbert woke up in a wonderful mood. Bash and Mary thought it had to do with the girl he'd met yesterday, but they were wrong.

In Gilbert's mind, there was only room for a certain redhead, one he now knew the name of.

Anne.

However, as the day continued its course, Gilbert lost his spark. He was tired of just dreaming.

It sounded crazy, but he was sure this girl was real, and he'd seen her somewhere in real life, he just knew it...

And now he had a clue in the shape of none other but his Highschool rival. Royal 'Roy' Garner. What harm could come from trying? He'd be careful not to show any signs of craziness around his friends, that was all.

He was going to find her.

__________________

Anne's phone woke her up with a start.

'Gotta call Roy', She thought drowsily. When she realized that thought was stupid she took a moment to go back to reality.

Diana was calling, and she was asking for a night out with her best friend before Christmas.

When she hung up, her finger hovered over the picture she'd been reluctant to delete the day before. She pressed the button without hesitation this time.

"I don't need his pictures to remember, not that the memories were that good, anyway," Anne sentenced. "Just like Gilbert said–"

The young woman stopped mid-sentence.

Who the hell was Gilbert?

He's a doctor.

And... a prince? He certainly looked like one...

She was pretty sure he'd been the same working at a flower shop... and the coffee shop.

He was the guy in her dreams.

"What the fuck," She said with a soft chuckle. "I have a wild mind..."

Surely this was just another of her imaginings, after all, she was pretty good at dreaming things.

"Anne! Breakfast is ready!"

Anne got up, forgetting half of her dream as she got dressed.

"Coming, Marilla!"

Taglist.

@ninizkd @http-itsrebecca @fuckthisshitimoutyall @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​​ @little-boats-on-a-lake @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @Skarlygonzalez

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #301

“i was waiting for my chance to find the light”

Did you like the beach a lot more as a kid more than you do now? Why/Why not? I did. Everything was more fun as a kid. I never REALLY loved it, though, because I did and still do hate the heat and walking through sand and getting it stuck all over you. It's pretty much torture now because I have extreme difficulty walking through sand. Has there ever been a time where you just couldn't stop crying? Explain. I know I've had days many years ago when my PTSD was truly awful where I'd sob multiple times a day. What's your least favorite time of day? Why don't you like that time?Late afternoon, like around 3-4 or so. By that point I'm usually bored senseless and going downhill. Do you like your lips? Do you enjoy kissing? They're fine, ig. And I mean yeah, if I'm really into the person? Do you like any music from the American Idols? Which ones? Ngl, I don't even remember any besides Kelly Clarkson, and who the FUCK doesn't like "Breakaway." Do you like when people challenge you? If so, in what? No, I get nervous about embarrassing myself. Personally for you, is falling for someone way beyond your control? It is entirely out of my control. What's something other than a fruit that you love in milkshakes? (Ex.twix ) Mostly chocolate stuff, haha. What is your all time FAVORITE milkshake? Ever tried the Reese's Blast from Sonic? That's some A+ shit. What's the latest you've ever stayed up reading a book? No clue. When having a peanut butter & jam sandwich, what is the best kind of jam? Grape. Do you like to write poetry? Yeah, but it's been a long time since I wrote anything. I used to do it aaall the time, but now I have to be seriously motivated and dedicated to the idea. When you get mad do you cry? Absolutely. Would you ever consider modeling? No. I do think one or two model-esque photos of myself would be nice and possibly help my self-confidence, but it's not something I'm seeking out and paying for. Are you scared of crossing bridges? Not very, no. If they're kinda sketchy-looking, I might feel a tad tense, but I'm not really scared of them. Would you consider yourself clumsy? I am unfuckingbelievably clumsy. Ever bought ice cream from an ice cream truck? Yeah, sometimes Mom would let me and my sisters do that as kids when one came through our neighborhood. Have you ever had a poem or story published? No. If you had/have a kid would you ever let them get a tattoo? If they were of the appropriate age, of course. And if they were getting it done professionally and not at some party drunk with friends. They better be in a sterile environment with someone who knows what they're doing. Do you love guinea pigs? Absolutely. I had three or four as pets when I was a kid. What is the worst thing you ever did that got you grounded? Probably run away from home. Have you ever been chased by a snake? No... and this is a misconception. Snakes don't chase. They go for what they see as the safest escape route, and sometimes they identify your own chosen direction as where they wanted to head, too. Where do you wanna work? I want to be a freelance photographer. What awards have you won? A lot of "A honor roll" trophies through school, among other academic awards. I seriously don't know what happened to that intelligence. I also have dance awards and lots of childhood sports team stuff. Would you consider yourself good at taking care of kids? I don't think I am, no. I'm way too nervous and awkward around kids. I've had to babysit for my sister twice though, and Ashley told me the kids had lots of fun and had no complaints. I guess like... I can do it, I am just very, very uncomfortable taking kids under my wing. I worry about leading them in the wrong direction. How old would a guy have to be before you wouldn't date them? I don't know, it would really depend on how much I was into the person. I generally stick with the approximation of a ten year gap though being my limit, so I think maybe him being in his mid-30s would make me feel a bit too weird. Be honest, have you ever tried weed? No, but quite honestly, I'd probably try an edible. I refuse to smoke anything for my lungs' sake. I'm curious if medical marijuana would actually be beneficial for me. Has anyone ever broken up with you with a note? No, but uh... I have, lol. It's how I broke up with my "puppy-dog love" boyfriend in middle school. Literally after he asked me if I was thinking of breaking up with him, and I said no before handing him the note because I was just too scared to do it to his face. I know, that was absolutely awful. Never, ever do that to the most innocent boy ever, kids. He didn't deserve that. Do you have sensitive teeth? Kinda. What was the worst thing you ever did to get detention/suspended? I've only ever had detention once for having too many tardies to my first class of the day in high school. We'd frequently arrive to school just a few minutes late because I was fucking impossible to drag out of bed. Have you ever suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder? Yes. Do you suffer from nasal allergies? Yes. What's your favorite kind of pudding? I only really like chocolate pudding. Have you done anything really interesting lately? I guess you could consider starting a virtual partial hospitalization program "interesting." It's not the intensive version like my first was, but rather being shorter. I just really need something to get my mental health back on the tracks. What’s the latest really fun thing you’ve done? REALLY fun? Hell if I know. I don't experience "fun" a lot at all anymore... I only ever feel like, this watered down, unenthusiastic sorry excuse for it. Have you discovered any good music lately? Oh yeah, I've found lots of 3TEETH songs I'm mad into. "ULTRAnumb" by Blue Stahli is also a total bop. How about any good new television shows? No. Or perhaps some interesting books? Nothing new, no. Have you picked up a new hobby or learned a new skill? I mean, within what timespan? Nothing lately, really. Has anybody ever done your makeup for you? Yeah. Do you own any sparkly items of clothing? No. What’s the most colorful accessory you own and use? *shrug* Do you enjoy drag artists’ work? If so, name some of your favorites. Oh yes, I have wild respect for drag queens. I don't know enough of them to have a fair favorite, but I do watch Trixie Mattel on YouTube and he is a goddamn hoot. What, right now, is the best thing in your life? Um. I don't really know. Probably the fact my mother still lets my too-big-for-the-nest ass to live with her... I don't want to picture how my life would be if I didn't have her still essentially holding my hand. What’s a place you like to go to when you need to get away for a bit? I actually love car rides for this, so long as I can ride passenger and just blare my music and not talk. It's so odd, being afraid of driving but finding great freedom and comfort in just... going. Do you like apples? I love apples. Anything exciting coming up for you in the near future? I paid the deposit for my tattoo appointment, so it was officially scheduled in May!! I was expecting an open date to be kinda far with just how amazing this parlor is, so I wasn't too shocked to hear I have to wait a few months, but man I can hardly wait. When you get an account for something, what's the first username you try? Unless it's for a "professional" site, in which case I'd use my actual name, I just about without fail with use "Ozzkat," or replace the "o" with a zero if that's somehow taken. Would you be okay with a friend wanting to date one of your exes? Which ex? What kind of accent do people typically have where you're from? Southern. Does history interest you at all? Can't say it does. What's something you wish you could do-over? There are many things, man. Is your hair in layers or is it all the same length? Neither, really. The left side of my head is very short/shaved, and as the hair goes around to the right, it gets longer. There aren't "layers," though. Is there anyone who you're afraid to be in a car with, if they're driving? I wouldn't say afraid, but with my sister's road rage and serious tail-gating issue, riding with her can make me nervous. What's something you're very good at? Um, I guess creative writing. Do you like sour gummy worms? oh FUCK yeah Would you pick up a hitchhiker if they seemed harmless? No. I am way too paranoid for that shit. Would you be bothered if your boyfriend liked to bite you? Uhhh I'm going to assume you mean this in a sexual context, in which case I don't care so long as it's not in a visible spot. How often do you get the opportunity to be completely alone? The answer used to be a shitload, and seeing as I'm in my room most of the time, I still feel like that's kind of true, but since Mom's cancer diagnosis and she had to stop working, she's usually home with me. I like it that way, though. Total isolation is bad for me. Do you have a trampoline? Nah, haven't in many years. What's your favorite Pixar movie? Finding Nemo. What is the strangest thing you've been asked? Something sexual that made me extremely uncomfortable. What’s the weirdest thing about life that people just accept as normal? The fact we put so much worth into pieces of green paper. What's the most random thing you've done out of boredom? *shrug* What show did your parents not let you watch as a kid? There weren't any specific shows that we even wanted to watch that Mom forbade us to see... I mean she certainly wouldn't let my sisters and I watch something like South Park as little kids, but none of us really sought unsuitable shows out. We were all about Disney, Nick, and Animal Planet in my case. What is the most pleasurable feeling that doesn't involve anything sexual? What comes to mind first is a big hug from someone who makes you feel safe when you don't anywhere else. What was your last "oops, wrong person" moment? I'm going to assume I sent somebody a text meant for another person. I'm super careful about avoiding stuff like this because I get horribly embarrassed, so it's difficult to recall the last time I slipped up. What do you find attractive that isn't considered "normal" attraction? Having a broad imagination and drive to create. What’s the dumbest thing you’ve done drunk? N/A What's something you really enjoy, but can't have? A pet tarantula because Mom refuses to let me lmao. I'm so into them now and desperately want a Grammastola pulchra. What Wikipedia article have you recently read? I haven't read any recently. What subject should be taught at schools, but isn't? Basic adulting and financial skills. What is the worst game you've ever played? I dunno. I've played sooooo many video games throughout my life. What tragic event was coincidentally beneficial to you? My overdose because it led to an intensive partial hospitalization program that totally changed my life. What did you think was cool when you were younger that you now think isn’t? Good question... What are your favorite or most memorable lines from any movie/show? I vaguely remember the concepts of some quotes, but not well enough to recite them. None that are seriously memorable or heavy pop up in my head now. What's a good example of 'Don't knock it till you try it'? Putting peanut butter on top of waffles with syrup. It is fucking delicious. What's your go-to get pumped up song? 5FDP's cover of "Mama Said Knock You Out" is badass HYPE. What's the dumbest thing your parents have said or done? Well, through a family assessment before my current partial hospitalization could begin, I very recently learned my dad fucking did drugs before my sisters and I were born, including shit like cocaine. That was great to suddenly learn. As for my mom... probably have a kid too young? She doesn't talk very much about her eldest daughter's history with (and without) her, but I know enough to know that was a very rocky time in her life. What are some things you wish existed? Cures for countless illnesses, and I also have SUUUUUCH a yearning for some kind of technology that could copy an image in your head onto a drawing device. If only I could draw how/what I see up there... Which person shaped you the most? Jason. Or Mom. What’s the one movie you couldn’t finish? Why? Couldn't tell you; I just haven't watched enough. What's a small thing you have a big passion for? Meerkats, quite literally with "small" lmao. What change have you made recently to help the environment? I have metal straws I try to remember to bring with me if I go out to eat. What was the hardest thing you've ever had to forgive? The way Jason left. Is there anything or anyone you're angry at, that you haven't forgiven yet? I sometimes question if I truly have forgiven Jason. I lean kinda heavily towards yes, I have, I'm just bitter about it all regardless. Have you ever plotted revenge against someone? No. Have you ever done anything to get revenge against someone? I can't think of anything off the top of my head. What is the greatest longing of your heart? To feel purpose. Who was your first love? Some guy in high school who "had" to talk to me upon seeing me the first time, only to wind up wanting to hear nothing from me later on down the line. What denomination is your church (if you go)? N/A What was the first year you voted in a presidential election? This most recent election, actually. Have you ever been afraid of the world ending? I used to worry it would happen in my lifetime, but now I don't. If it ends, it ends. I ain't got much to lose nowadays. What is unfair about your life? My mental health. My financial position. I'd rather not focus on the billion shitty things going on in my life rn, so next question. Did you write love poems when you were younger? ugh Who are you jealous of and why? There's a lot of people I'm in some way envious of, honestly. Have you ever had an account of yours hacked? Yes. Thankfully nothing major happened. Have you ever been a victim of police misconduct? No.

[setaripendragon]

Trapped in the Amber - 1x03

Book 1 :: 01 - 02 - 03 Not a lot to say about this one, except that, on watching this episode for the first time, I was severely disappointed that Sam and Dean went to all that trouble to make those Homeland Security badges, and didn’t even think to use them to, oh, I don’t know, stop a plane from taking off? (Also, ngl, so mad that the continuity didn’t remember that they’d had Dean dealing with poltergeists before when they got to the episode Home.) Also, Moonfiends are completely made up by me, based on this one little bit of folklore I found about young women who look at a blue moon getting pregnant from it and giving birth to monsters. SPN lore is surprisingly limited for a show with hundreds of episodes, so I’m going to be tossing in more of my own lore to fill in the gaps in this story. (This being mostly self-indulgent nonsense, there’s going to be a lot of lore, a lot of ethical debates, and at least some linguistics.) And this chapter is dedicated to everyone who’s liked the last two parts, I absolutely wouldn’t have had the courage to continue posting this without you. Especially @spideypoolalways, and @lyratalus​ and @millieccino for those lovely comments <3

Allentown, Pennsylvania – Saturday 3rd December 2005

Meira makes Dean tell her about the poltergeist on their way to Pennsylvania. It’s a good story, and it’s also a reminder that John Winchester is a real person, her grandfather by blood. She knew about him, of course, but he was long dead by the time she came into the world, and honestly, she’d never given him much thought. Now, she’s suddenly aware that if it was her in her dad’s place, she wouldn’t be half so composed.

They don’t even stop to find a motel before heading to the airport where Jerry works. He greets Dean with no small amount of relief, and then shakes hands all around. “And this must be Sam, right?” He asks when he gets to Sam.

“That’s right.” Sam confirms. “And this is Meira.”

“Pleasure.” Jerry says, sincere but perfunctory, before leading them inside. He reminisces a little on the way to his office, and Meira listens in fascination, but once they get there, it’s right down to business. “Okay, listen to this.” He says. “It sounded like it was up your alley. Normally I wouldn’t have access to this. It’s the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.”

At first, it’s just a crackly recording of a may day signal, and then it fuzzes out to be replaced by a sound that makes Meira reach for her blade on pure instinct. Pain lances through her, and she flinches hard.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jerry asks.

Meira nods. “Took me by surprise, is all.” She says dismissively.

“Alright, well, it took off from here.” Jerry explains. “Crashed about 200 miles south. Now, they’re saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurised somehow, nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board, only seven got out alive.”

“Seven people survived?” Meira echoes in surprise.

Jerry’s eyebrows furrow. “That surprises you?” He asks carefully.

Meira shrugs with a grimace. “That sounded demonic to me. Sometimes spirits can affect radios and such, but it’s usually just static, psychic residue. That was way too loud to be residue. And demons aren’t known for leaving survivors.” It isn’t like she can tell them that she understands Hellspeech well enough. It isn’t like human languages, which she’s always been able to understand, but Crowley was one of the few creatures in existence that hadn’t thought she was an abomination. Or, he had, it’s just he didn’t have a problem with abominations, so he’d taught her how to understand his, heh, ‘native’ language.

Yeah, she definitely isn’t telling these two hunters, who aren’t yet her dad and uncle, that the King of Hell, or King of the Crossroads as he is now, taught her how to understand demons. Or that this one is fucking gloating on the radio of a plane it had just caused to crash.

Jerry pales. Sam and Dean both turn to stare at her, eyebrows raised. “Demonic?” Jerry asks, quiet and strained.

“I can’t be sure.” Meira lies. “But that would be my guess, yeah.”

“Well,” Sam says slowly, “we’re going to need passenger manifests, a list of survivors, and-”

“And any way we could take a look at the wreckage?” Dean interjects.

Jerry takes a breath to marshal himself, and Meira is actually impressed by how well he  “The other stuff is no problem, but the wreckage?” He shakes his head grimly. “The NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I’ve got that kind of clearance.”

Dean nods slowly, and then shakes his head in dismissal. “No problem.”

Meira has to bite back a grin, and once they’ve gotten the lists of passengers and survivors from Jerry and they’re leaving, she nudges Dean with her elbow and asks, “No problem, huh?” Dean just grins back, smug and cocky, and, oh, yeah, this is going to be good.

A short drive and an endless wait later, which Meira fills with reading a paperback she picked up from a bookshop across the street, and Sam passes with pacing and frustration until Meira gives in and starts reading aloud in an over-dramatic fashion, Dean returns with brand new fake IDs for all of them. Sam, of course, immediately remembers his impatience, and huffs, “You’ve been in there forever!”

“You can’t rush perfection.” Dean retorts, flipping one of the cards over to Meira, who catches it between the pages of her book, then retrieves it eagerly.

“Homeland security?” Sam asks incredulously.

Meira whoops. “Oh, man. Yes.”

“See?” Dean says to Sam. “She knows an awesome idea when she hears one.”

“The doors this baby is going to open.” Meira agrees in delight. “The prank opportunities will be endless and glorious.”

Sam rounds on her, while Dean bursts out laughing. “Pranks?”

Meira blinks at him in feigned wide-eyed innocence. “Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted to scare the shit out of someone by threatening them with charges of treason or something.” She points out. She wishes Pabbi were here, or Jace. They’ve always been better at coming up with the truly hilarious pranks. Sam just shakes his head and gets back in the car. Meira and Dean share a grin, and then follow to discuss the case and plan their next move.

Which turns out to be interrogating the passenger in the psychiatric hospital. Meira keeps quiet and lets Dean and Sam do most of the talking, wishing she could see the state of the man’s soul. She doesn’t really need to, to know he’s disturbed by what he saw, but it would be nice to know how disturbed. Whether he’d prefer the illusion of normality, or if doubting his own perception is doing more harm than good. In her own, limited, twenty-five years of experience with human souls, she’s never seen anything so damaging as doubting their own perception, but in some cases, she has to admit that the lie does seem to help people hold it together through otherwise traumatic incidents.

“It’s okay.” Sam says, as Meira considers everything she can read from Max Jaffrey’s body language and comes to a decision. She’s pretty sure Sam and Dean are going to hate it, but they can suck it up and deal. “Just tell us what you thought you saw. Please.” Sam entreats, and it works.

Max sighs, and starts, haltingly, to talk. “There was… this- man.” He begins, stops, licks his lips nervously. “And… uh, he had these… eyes.” He gestures vaguely towards his own face.

“Black eyes?” Meira asks.

Max’s head jerks up and he stares at her with wide eyes, while Sam and Dean both turn to stare at her. “Y-yeah. How did you…?”

Meira takes a step forward from where she was loitering, and claims the last open seat, opposite Max. “You weren’t seeing things.” She tells him simply.

“Meira.” Dean growls.

“Man deserves to know he’s not crazy.” Meira replies without looking away from Max, who’s shaking his head.

“That can’t have been real.” He protests. “I saw him-”

“Saw him what?” Sam prompts gently, although the look Meira sees him direct at her out of the corner of her eye is hard.

Max’s next breath shakes. “He- he opened the emergency exit. But that’s- that’s impossible. I mean, I looked it up, there’s something like two tonnes of pressure on that door.” He insists, looking between the three of them, pleading for an explanation, any explanation, that makes sense.

“Do you really believe you were seeing things?” Meira asks him.

He stares at her, then swallows hard. It’s several long, long minutes before he finally answers. “No.” He says, so quiet Meira almost can’t hear him. “Some-something made the plane crash, right? And if it wasn’t- wasn’t what I saw, then… what was it?”

Meira smiles at him, gentle but proud. “It was exactly what you saw.”

“But how?” Max demands.

“The black eyes are a fairly good indicator that the man you saw was possessed by a demon.” Meira informs him, and Max’s eyes widen in belated fear. “Demons do possess far greater strength than your average human, so one could absolutely open the emergency exit while the plane was still in the air.”

“Oh.” Max says thickly. “Demons actually exist.”

“I’m afraid so.” Meira agrees wryly. When it seems Max is too busy processing that to have any immediate questions, she nods. “Do you have your phone with you?” She asks. Max shakes his head wordlessly. “Do you know your number off by heart?” She asks, not hopeful.

But, it turns out, there are some benefits to being stuck in 2005. People aren’t quite so used to their phones doing their thinking for them, and some of them do, still, memorise their own phone numbers. Max rattles his off without a problem, and Meira whips her own phone out to save it. Then she sends him a text. “There. Now, when you get out of here, if you have any questions, you can call me.” She explains.

Max nods. Then he shakes his head. “You’re not Homeland Security, are you?” He asks.

Meira grins at him. “Special branch.” She tells him, then raps her knuckles on the table, and stands. “Don’t worry, Mr Jaffrey, we’ll get the thing that did this.” She assures him, and a little of the fear in him melts away as he nods.

It isn’t until they’re out of the hospital that Sam rounds on her. Meira honestly wasn’t expecting it. “What the hell was that?” He demands. Meira stares at him incredulously. “Why did you tell him that? You scared him half to death!”

“Um, no.” Meira snaps, indignant at this false accusation. “I didn’t. The demon did.”

“And he was perfectly fine thinking he’d imagined the whole thing, so why did you-?!”

“Checking yourself into a psychiatric hospital is the exact opposite of fine!”

“He would have gotten over it! And then he could go home and carry on his normal life, but instead, you had to go and drop demons on him!”

“You have no guarantee that he would have gotten over it!”

“You have no guarantee how well he’ll handle demons, but that didn’t stop you!”

“Oh, so we should have just joined in on gaslighting him, then?”

“Whoa! Okay, time out!” Dad barks, physically inserting himself between Meira and Rob- No, it’s Sam, Sam who is not yet her uncle and Rob hasn’t been born yet. Meira blinks rapidly as she backs up a step, and then another. She didn’t realise how in each other’s face they were getting until Dad intervened. Dean. Until Dean intervened. She closes her eyes for a moment, trying not to feel too much like her family’s been ripped away from her all over again. “Okay, let’s all just chill.” Dean instructs firmly. “What’s done is done, Sam.”

“It shouldn’t have been.” Sam insists through gritted teeth. “People shouldn’t have to deal with all this unless they don’t have any other choice.”

“Hey, man, I agree with you, but there’s no helping it now.” Dean repeats. Sam scowls.

“He already had to deal with it. It nearly killed him.” Meira points out. “I’m not going to go around shouting it from the rooftops, okay. Not least of all because people would think I’m nuts, but… Do you know how hard it is, to have the whole world telling you that you’re the problem? That there’s something wrong with you, not something wrong out there? No one deserves that!”

Sam sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose, and it’s a gesture that’s going to carry through the rest of his life, all the way until he’s in his sixties and a father and an uncle exasperated with his oh so headstrong niece. But instead of patiently and logically ripping all of Meira’s dreams of chaos and glory to shreds, he just shakes his head and heads for the Impala without another word. It leaves Meira feeling strangely like she’s the one who just lost that argument. Or maybe lost something more important by winning it.

“You know, Sam ran away.” Dean says suddenly.

Meira startles, and is half an instant away from saying something really stupid, like ‘yeah, I know, Dad, you’ve told me this story about a dozen times’, but manages to stop herself just in time. “Oh?” She asks instead, her voice wobbling slightly.

Dean glances at her and grimaces faintly in apology. “Yeah. He wanted to get away from hunting, from the supernatural, be normal or whatever.” He shrugs as if to say the notion baffles him. It baffles Meira, too, but then, she never has been and never will be ‘normal’, and she’s never really felt like her life was missing anything. “Then the thing that killed our mom killed his girlfriend.”

“Ouch. I’m sorry.” Meira says, trying desperately to remember that this is supposed to be news to her, not ancient family history.

“Yeah, well, it makes it pretty hard for him to argue that you should’ve let that guy live in ignorant bliss. He tried that, and it came back to bite him, it could come back to bite this guy, too. But I think he wishes the world worked that way. It ought to. People shouldn’t have to be afraid of the monsters in the dark.”

“People shouldn’t have to be afraid of robbers, either, but we still lock our doors at night.” Meira replies softly. “If people knew, if it was common knowledge what was out there, yeah, maybe they’d be afraid, but maybe they’d line their doors and windows in salt, and get anti-possession tattoos, and then go right on living their normal lives.”

Dean huffs a laugh. “Yeah, maybe.” He doesn’t sound like he believes it, though. Meira can’t exactly blame him. There’s a reason the supernatural has stayed more or less hidden for the last several hundred years, and it’s because most people don’t want to believe it’s true, so they refuse to see it. “Still think it was kind of shitty to just drop demons on him and then leave.”

Meira pulls a face, hunching down against a lecture she knows probably isn’t coming. “I gave him my number. And once we’re done with this, I’ll probably call him if he doesn’t call me and give him the full lecture on demons and theology as it applies to reality.” Somewhere Dean and Sam can’t hear her to question her in depth knowledge of the workings of Hell.

“You hunted demons before?” Dean asks in surprise, finally starting towards the Impala as well.

The answer is yes. On a normal day, demons wouldn’t really be difficult for her. She is anathema to them, after all. “No.” Meira lies.

“Then how do you know enough to give the full lecture?” Dean asks, giving her a look as he opens the driver’s door. Meira doesn’t answer until they’re both in the car with a sulking Sam, and once they’re in, Dean doesn’t give her the opportunity. “You said you don’t really hunt, but you’re a freaking encyclopedia. Moonfiends?” He prompts.

Meira sighs, and resigns herself to cobbling bits and pieces of the truth into a coherent whole, because infinite angelic memory isn’t something she’s going to bring up. “Okay, that one is because my best friend is a moonfiend, so I got a first person account.” She defends. “But my aunt and uncle keep- kept a supernatural library, and I read a lot as a kid.”

“Huh.” Dean muses as they pull out onto the road. “Okay, I’m just gonna ask. You best friend is a moonfiend?” He sounds incredulous.

Meira pulls a face at him through the rear view mirror. “Azura.” She confirms defiantly.

“What exactly is a moonfiend?” Sam asks, turning to look at her, putting aside his irritation in favour of academic curiosity. Meira beams fondly at him, because this is why Sam has always been her favourite uncle. “I know you said they’re kind of like mothmen, but mothmen are a really specific type of vengeful nature spirit.”

“Well, no, they’re more like furies. They’re not spirits, they’re corporeal, but they’re born from… desecrated ground. Furies are born from human sins against humans, mothmen are born from human sins against nature.” Meira explains, leaning forward as she gets into explaining. “A moonfiend is actually more like a werewolf in metaphysical characteristics, but like mothmen in physical characteristics.”

“So, they’re subject to the phases of the moon?” Sam checks.

Meira nods. “A moonfiend is born when a virgin, and that’s not just a sexual virgin, but a magical and metaphysical virgin, too, stares too long at an unfiltered blue moon.”

Dean actually takes a moment away from watching the road to turn and stare at her. Sam gapes for several minutes, until he finally manages to ask. “Blue moons happen every three years. Why aren’t they everywhere?”

“Well, half the time the pregnancy kills the mother before the baby is viable. Or the mother kills the baby after she’s given birth because, well, it’s pretty obviously not human. All that on top of just how hard it is to count as a metaphysical virgin these days.” Meira points out. “Or what counts as unfiltered. I mean, glasses, smog, clouds, astral disturbances.”

“Astral disturbances?” Sam questions.

“Okay!” Dean says loudly, interrupting Meira before she can even start to explain. “I’m glad you two have made up, you nerds, but can we figure out our next step here? I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve never hunted demon before.” Meira has to sit back and let the weirdness of that statement wash over her. This is her Dad’s first ever demon hunt. Weird. “Are we even sure it is a demon?” He asks, glancing back at Meira and sounding like he wishes he could hope, but he doesn’t. “I mean, this doesn’t exactly seem like demon MO… does it?”

Meira grimaces. “It’s not tempting mortals to sin, sure, but… they like to spread pain and suffering, death and destruction. It’s like a hobby.” She chirps, all dark humour.

“And this one’s hobby is plane crashes?” Dean demands incredulously. “That seems a little… I don’t know, modern.” He mutters, and Meira snickers. “Jesus. Okay. Evolving with the times or not, it’s still gotta be possessing someone right?” Meira nods when Dean’s eyes flicker to her in the mirror. “Great, so it could be anyone right now. How the hell are we gonna find this thing?” He asks, and Meira’s heart leaps into her throat. It’s stupid, she knows that Dean’s never done this before, but he’s her dad and he sounds overwhelmed and that scares her.

“Dean?” Sam asks, obviously picking up on the same thing. “What…?”

Dean sighs. “I don’t know, man, this is kind of out of our league, don’t you think? Demon’s aren’t like the rest of the shit we hunt. Even wendigos, they still- there’s still rhyme and reason to what they do, you know? Demons, man…” He pauses and sighs, hands going white-knuckled on the wheel. “This is… this is big, Sam. I wish Dad was here.”

“Yeah.” Sam agrees quietly, staring intently out of the wind-shield. “Me too.”

Meira swallows and doesn’t say ‘me three’, even though she really wants to. She wants all of her dads. She wants her grace free so that she’s not quite so helpless without them. “Hey.” She says, and ploughs on even though her voice shakes a little. “We can do this. Okay, it might be an entire order of magnitude bigger than a vengeful spirit, but it’s the same basics, right? So, how do we find our monster once we’ve figured out what it is?”

“We figure out what it wants.” Sam says practically. “Because that’s how we’ll know where it’s going to be.” Then he shakes his head. “But if all it wants is to cause plane crashes… I mean, do you have any idea how many flights take off from even just one state every day? There’s no way we could find it.”

That is a good point. Meira grimaces. She’s still trying to figure out how the hell they can do anything about this when Dean slams a flat palm against the wheel, making both her and Sam jump. “Son of a bitch.” He swears sharply, in a tone of revelation. “The survivors.”

Meira blinks. “Dean?” Sam asks, in equal bewilderment.

“The message, on the voice recorder. The demon, it said-”

“‘No survivors.’” Sam echoes. “But there were, there were seven.”

“Yeah, and if this were a vengeful spirit…” Dean trails off pointedly.

“It’d want to finish the job.” Sam realises, nodding along. Then he dives on the bag at his feet to pull out the list of passengers and survivors.

“It was gloating.” Meira interjects, a touch amused. “Prematurely. It’s gotta be so pissed it failed to kill everyone on that flight. I mean, talk about embarrassing.” Dean snorts. “So, now we know what it wants. Now we’ve just gotta figure out where it’s going to be.”

“Do you think…” Sam begins, tapping a finger rapidly on the side of the sheet with the survivors on it. “I mean, if it was a spirit, I’d say for sure, but… Do you think it’ll want to stick to killing them in plane crashes? Because that would be a way to narrow down who it’s going after next.” He points out.

“Sounds like a lead to me.” Dean agrees, and Sam immediately pulls out his phone and starts scanning over the list, before dialling a number.

“I mean, demons basically are vengeful spirits, just ramped up to a thousand on a scale of one to ten.” Meira muses to Dean while Sam hangs up and tries another. “So, yeah, some patterns of behaviour probably do carry over, at least a little.”

“That is so not comforting.” Dean mutters.

“Hey, Jerry, it’s Sam.” Sam greets. “I was just trying to get in touch with the pilot. You said he was a friend, so I thought you might-” He trails off, and then snaps “Dean.” so urgently that Dean automatically takes his eyes off the road to look over at him on high alert. “The pilot’s going up in less than an hour.”

“Shit.” Dean swears, and floors the gas.

“Look, Jerry,” Sam is saying into the phone, “is there any way you can get in touch with him, convince him not to go up?” A pause. “Please try. We’re on our way.” He hangs up, jaw tight. “How soon can we get to the airfield in Nazareth?”

“Forty-five minutes.” Dean announces, then somehow makes the Impala go even faster. “Forty minutes.”

“Okay, so we need to figure out how to get rid of a demon in forty minutes.” Sam states.

“Exorcisms?” Dean suggests.

“Do you know any by heart?” Sam retorts.

“I do.” Meira offers. It’s not exactly hard when one’s fluent in the language of angels and can invoke the name of god in it. Pretty much anything becomes an exorcism then. ‘Go away’ could count as an exorcism, as long as you followed up with ‘in the name of the lord’ or something similar.  “Do we have any holy water?” She asks, not daring to hope.

“Uh, no.” Dean replies.

Meira winces, and amends her request. “Do we have water and a rosary?”

“Rosary is in the boot.” Dean tells her, while Sam retrieves a bottle of water from his bag. After about five minutes of bickering, Meira convinces him to pull over so that she can hop out and grab the rosary. Dean’s peeling out of the layby before she’s even got the door closed again, and then she screws the top off the bottled water, dumps the rosary inside, and sets about blessing it. She really, really hopes this works, and isn’t contingent on her grace being able to affect the world beyond her skin. She’s never officially been ordained or anything, but active grace or not, she’s still a fucking archangel.

“That should be holy water now.” Meira says once she’s done, handing the water back to Sam.

“Should?” Dean barks.

“I’ve never done this before, okay?” Meira shoots back, unable to keep a hint of defensive panic from her tone. “I have the qualifications for it, but I never thought I needed to check that it would work!” Dean pulls a face, but lets it go. Meira swallows down her fear. “You should- you should check on the others while we have the time.” She says to Sam, and he nods. He spends the drive going through the list of survivors and pretending to be a United Britannia Airlines survey. While he’s doing that, Meira calls Max, which turns into an impromptu explanation of how to identify demons.

By the time Meira’s off the phone, Sam’s gone through the rest of the survivors. “I still can’t get in touch with the flight attendant.” Sam states, hanging up the phone again.

“Given her job, I’d say that’s a bad sign.” Dean says dryly.

Sam snorts. “Yeah, no kidding. I’m going to call Jerry, see if he can tell me when she’s working next.” He explains, and then does just that. After a brief introduction, he gives Jerry the woman’s name, “Amanda Walker,” and waits a couple of minutes while Jerry does the research he can’t while he’s stuck on the highway. “Oh?” Sam says, an edge to his voice Meira really doesn’t like. “This evening? Look, Jerry-” A long pause. “No, I understand. Okay. Yeah, we’re on our way. Bye.”

“She’s working tonight?” Dean asks in dismay.

“Yeah. Flight leaves at eight. And there’s no way Jerry can ground the flight.” Sam adds in dismay.

Dean takes a bracing breath. “We’re just going to have to stop this son of a bitch before he can get that far.” He announces, and Meira tries to bolster her own confidence with his.

Nazareth, Pennsylvania – Saturday 3rd December 2005

By the time they get to the airfield, there are already two men walking across the tarmac to a small plane. “Shit.” Dean swears, and they all fling themselves out of the car.

“Mr Lambert!” Sam calls as they jog over. Security inevitably tries to stop them, but Dean flashes a badge at them, almost too fast for them to see more than that it looks sort of official, but it is enough to get them past. “Mr Lambert!” Sam calls again, and one of the two men nudges the other, and he turns.

“Yeah?” The second man says, so he must be Jerry’s friend, the pilot.

Meira looks at the other one, who’s watching them with a sort of sceptical hostility. She holds her hand out to him. “Agent Meira Geyad.” She greets, watching him closely, but there’s no reaction except a raised eyebrow as he takes her hand. Oh, hell. She starts to turn, but then a fist meets her face with enough force to send her sprawling.

“Shit!” Dean swears.

“Chuck!” The other man shouts in horror. “Wha-” He’s cut off by an awful crunching noise that makes Meira’s stomach turn over in guilt. It’s followed by a splash, and the hissing of corruption being melted away by a holy blessing. Holy water worked then, thank God, Meira thinks dizzily, finally healing enough to look up.

The demon grabs for Sam, getting him by the throat, and Dean yells his name in desperation. Meira starts to spit out the simplest exorcism she knows, but before she can get more than three words in, the demon has dropped Sam and kicked her in the ribs hard enough to wind her. Hard enough to break ribs, actually, but those heal quickly like her fractured cheekbone did. It takes a little longer to catch her breath, and by then, the demon has abandoned its meatsuit, streaming out of Chuck Lambert’s mouth and leaving him to collapse to the ground.

“Jesus.” Dean breathes. “Sam?”

“Fine.” Sam rasps.

“Meira?” Dean checks, dropping to his knees beside her. “You alright?” Meira groans, and takes the hand he offers her, letting him haul her up into a sitting position. “I’m guessing that wasn’t how an exorcism is supposed to go.”

“No, it realised what I was trying to do and left before I could send it back to hell.” Meira huffs, rubbing at her side just to check that her ribs are back where they’re supposed to be.

“Why’d it flinch at your name?” Dean asks curiously.

“Ge-Iad is one of the names of God.” Meira explains.

“Never heard that one before.” Dean says, eyebrows rising. “I thought you used Christ to test for demons.”

“The more often the name is used without faith, the less power it holds over the demonic.” Meira replies. “You can amp it up by using a language like Latin, which is both dead and stuffed full of religious ritual by now, but, you have any idea how many people say ‘Jesus Christ’ as an invective, without a thought as to why they swear that way?”

“And Ge-Iad, that’s, what? Never used?” Dean asks.

“Never without the proper reverence.” Meira corrects, and then tips her head. “Until today.” She adds with a pointed look, which earns her the best devil-may-care grin in her dad’s arsenal.

“Guys.” Sam calls, solemn. “Chuck’s dead.”

“Oh, that petty son of a bitch.” Meira grouses, flopping back down onto the tarmac.

“Uh-uh. Come on, up.” Dean instructs, getting to his feet and holding out his hand again. “We’ve still gotta stop this son of a bitch before he brings another plane down.” Meira whines, but takes his hand and lets him pull her to her feet.

“And we’ve got company.” Sam adds, as the airfield security descend on them.

Sam and Dean both look like deer in the headlights of a semi, so Meira takes charge. She orders security to inform the police of the incident, flashes her fake ID about, and then leaves with Sam and Dean on ‘important business’ before the police actually arrive. “Back to Allentown?” Dean checks, and Sam nods, already on the phone.

“I still can’t get in touch with the flight attendant.” Sam tells them several minutes later.

“We can’t let her get on that plane.” Dean insists.

Meira thinks about the fake IDs they’ve been using and has a really, really bad idea. She’s pretty sure Pabbi would approve. “I have an idea?” She offers. Sam turns to look at her, and she grimaces as she holds up her fake ID. “But… we’re going to need to look the part.”

Sam blinks once, and then his eyes widen. “Oh, no.” He says quickly. “No, there’s no way we can pull that off!”

“Why not?” Meira challenges.

“What?” Dean asks, glancing in the rear view mirror. “What’s the plan?”

“What’s TSA going to do if Homeland Security shows up and tells them there’s a terrorist on that plane?” Meira asks rhetorically.

Dean stares out the windshield for a long moment. “Okay. Monkey suits it is.” He says in a tone of resignation.

“And then what?!” Sam demands, a little hysterically, in Meira’s opinion. “We ground the plane, that’s great, and then we’re in the middle of an airport, surrounded by TSA, and we’re going to have to produce a terrorist for them!”

Meira shrugs. “Not necessarily. We just say we got a tip, or a suspicion that there might be, and when there isn’t, well, can’t be too careful in the pursuit of terrorists, right?” She points out. “We won’t even be lying if we tell them we have a suspicion that someone on board is planning to sabotage the flight. It’s true.”

“And how are we going to do an exorcism in the middle of all of this?” Sam demands.

“I’m not sure.” Meira huffs. “If it was just a case of getting the exorcism out, that would be one thing, but we have to make sure the demon sticks around for me to use it. Easiest way would be a devil’s trap, but it’d probably be a bad idea to go around scrawling pagan voodoo on the walls in front of TSA, huh?” She muses.

Dean snorts. “Okay, here’s the plan.” He says briskly. “Once we’ve got the plane grounded and all the passengers and staff isolated for interviewing or whatever, we’re going to insist on talking to everyone separately, and then whatever room they offer us, you two are going to keep everyone busy while I put a devil’s trap… on the ceiling, probably. Somewhere that’s not glaringly obvious, anyway.” He pauses, glancing back to make sure both Sam and Meira are on board. Meira nods enthusiastically, and Sam sighs in surrender. “Okay, so, what’s a devil’s trap look like?”

“Pentacle.” Meira answers easily. “You can make them more complicated, if you need to hold a stronger demon or a specific demon or you need to limit specific things within it, but… basic devil’s trap is just a pentagram in a circle.”

“Right, easy enough.” Dean agrees.

They stop to get suits at the first place they see. Dean looks hilariously uncomfortable, and Meira really wishes there was something she could say to help, but given that it’s a feeling that persists all the way through his life, she figures there’s not much anyone could say to make him feel better. “Should’ve got one with a waistcoat.” She says instead.

“Why the hell would I want extra layers of this bullshit?” Dean demands.

“Waistcoats are sexy as hell.” Meira informs him, smoothing down the front of her own.

Dean pauses and looks back at the shop with pained consideration. “Nope, no time.” Sam informs him. Dean makes a face at him, but doesn’t protest.

Allentown, Pennsylvania – Saturday 3rd December 2005

The plan goes off without a hitch. Meira knows that the most important part of pulling a prank like this is confidence, so she turns hers up to the max, channelling her pabbi and every archangel instinct she has, and TSA goes along with it. In fact, Meira is honestly a little shocked by how quickly everyone responds, until she remembers that, of course, it’s been four, not forty, years since the whole 9/11 thing. The flight gets grounded, TSA agents scurry about searching people and, helpfully, dragging them to and from the room they let the three of them conduct ‘interviews’ from. Meira is honestly having a ridiculous amount of fun, playing the scary Homeland Security agent looking for terrorists.

“You’re having fun.” Sam accuses under his breath, once they’re done with the passengers and about to get started on the staff.

Meira flashes him a wild, reckless grin. “I told you the prank opportunities were going to be glorious.” She murmurs back. Sam gives her an incredulous look, but doesn’t say more because the door is opening. Meira gives it a minute before she turns around, because if this is their demon, she doesn’t want to spook him before he’s sitting right on top of Dean’s devil’s trap, which he drew in magic marker on the bottom of the chair.

“I don’t see why this is-” The co-pilot cuts himself off when Meira and Sam turn around, his eyes flashing black as the demon loses control of itself for a brief moment in its shock. Or rage. Either one. “You again.” It hisses.

“Us again.” Dean says leaning back against the door.

The demon tries to lunge upwards, but the chair, conveniently bolted to the floor, doesn’t move, and the demon can’t leave it. It looks down, then back up again in outrage. “Who are you?” It demands, looking directly at Meira.

She smiles. “Zirdo zizop ol Ge-Iad, od lis ip darb ziri.” She informs it, and watches it recoil in horror with no little satisfaction.

“That’s not Latin.” Sam comments, looking at her in surprise.

“Nope.” Meira agrees cheerfully enough.

“You, though, you I know.” The demon adds, looking at Sam. He and Dean both go very still, staring intently. “I know what happened to your girlfriend, and if you let her do this, you’ll never find out why.” It taunts, a nasty smirk curling the host’s lips.

Sam stiffens. “Wait.” He says, and the demon grins.

“Sam.” Dean warns.

“What do you know about Jessica?” Sam demands.

“Let me go and I’ll tell you everything.” The demon promises.

Sam splashes holy water in its face, and it recoils with a yell, steaming. “Tell me, or I’ll-”

“Or you’ll what?” The demon spits, mocking. “What do you think you can do to me that’s worse than that?” It jerks its chin at Meira, who arches one eyebrow. “Let me go, or no deal.”

“Sam, we’re not letting this thing go.” Dean states. “It’s probably lying anyway.”

Sam’s free hand clenches into a fist. After a minute in which he doesn’t move, Meira gently pushes past him to stand in front of the demon. “Bols ma a’aiom, pa’aox il adohi ol Onsamir.” She instructs, and the demon hisses and thrashes, actually cracking the floor where the chair is bolted to it. Meira reaches out and puts a hand on the demon’s shoulder. It stills, tensing, staring at her with wide black eyes. “Niizo i etharzi, ammal, od yinay ma doal.” She says gently. “Oyi gohe Zire.”

Holy light suffuses the vessel, and the essence of the demon pours out of his mouth in the form black smoke even as it’s forced from this plane of existence, vanishing in midair.

Sam turns away and punches the wall. Dean watches him carefully, but when Sam just stands there, breathing hard, he goes to check the slumped co-pilot’s pulse. “He’s alive.” He reports. “So, do we need to carry on this farce, or can we just…?” He jerks his thumb at the door.

Meira takes a moment to hate the demon, because Sam’s mood is going to suck all the fun out of this. “I think we should finish. Let’s not give them a reason to get suspicious straight away, yeah?” She prompts, and Dean reluctantly nods, then shakes the co-pilot awake. He comes awake with a jolt, and immediately panics at the memory of the demon. “Calm down, you’re fine now.” Meira assures him.

“And if you want to stay fine, you’re going to act normal and not talk about this, or the nice TSA agents are going to arrest you for being a terrorist.” Dean adds, which doesn’t exactly help the guy’s fear, but it does redirect it nicely.

It’s a little tedious, going through the same rote questions with the rest of the staff, but there’s few enough left that Meira doesn’t mind. It’s worth it for the opportunity to bitch, in a restrained and professional manner, to the TSA agents about wild goose chases and bad information, and how she’s going to complain to her superiors about their lax fact-checking. The agents are so busy reminding her that ‘better safe than sorry’ and that it’s important work that they don’t even stop to wonder about a whole plane being delayed for what turned out to be nothing. Then the three of them are back in the Impala and driving away clean.

“We should have questioned the demon properly.” Sam says abruptly.

“Dude, Sam, seriously. It probably didn’t know jack shit.” Dean insists. “These things like to play with your mind, you can’t let it.”

“And even if it did know something, torturing information out of demons is hard, Sam. Not to mention ethically dubious given that the host suffers everything you do to the demon, too.” Meira points out, and Sam flinches, but his hard glare doesn’t waver. “Do you really think you can torture someone worse than Hell can, Sam? Someone innocent, just to find out what the demon riding their soul knows?”

Sam whips around to glare at her. “Yes.” He bites out, and then looks away, nausea twisting his expression. “No.” He capitulates. “I don’t-”

“Look, Sam. We will find this thing, alright? We will. And we don’t need to drag innocent people into it to do it. We’re better than that. Better than them.” Dean insists.

Meira smiles, bracing her elbows on the back of the front seats and lacing her fingers together to rest her chin on. “Damn straight.”

Marion, Indiana – Sunday 25th December 2005

It’s stupid, but it never occurred to Meira that Sam and Dean might not do Christmas. When she’d asked, a few days ago, Dean had just shrugged and said sure, they could do a present exchange this year, like that was optional. It’s only just sunk in, lying in the dark in a lonely motel room, that there just isn’t going to be Christmas this year.

No tree, no lights, no elaborate Santa traps, no cake for not-bro Jesus so entirely stuffed with candles that you could kill a wendigo with it, no trip to Scandinavia to have snowball fights in ancient pine forests, no stories of hunting pagan gods through the festivities. She’s alone, bound beneath her skin, with no possible way of finding out who did this to her, never mind what they did, or how to get home. She could pray to Pabbi, but he couldn’t answer, not without revealing himself to the Host, and she won’t do that to him, won’t force him to make that choice.

Midnight comes and goes, and the only way Meira knows is because she’s watching the shitty digital clock on the bedside table. She can’t feel the turn of the earth through the cosmos, can’t feel the ripples of time as billions and billions of humans make choices and change things. All she has is what’s trapped under her skin, and it’s nothing. Nothing compared to what she used to have. A family, and an entire universe to share with them.

Unable to bear it any longer, she rolls out of bed, gets dressed, and heads out. Once there, she goes to the vending machine and buys one of everything that looks like it has a cavity-inducing sugar-content, and carries it all over to the Impala. Then she hops up onto the hood, lies back, and starts in on her stash while watching the stars. “Hey, Granddad.” She says, out loud while opening up a pack of skittles, because who gives a fuck. “Looks like you’re the only family I’ve got for Christmas this year. Well, you and not-bro. How’s the garden, Josh? Sorry about no cake this year. It’d feel like… cheating, somehow, if I tried to get Sam and Dean to do it with me. Like I’m stealing something from their future, you know? Even if I bet Dean would get a kick out of it.”

She takes a deep breath, suddenly finding it hard not to cry. “You know, I always got why you fucked off, Granddad. Why you won’t interfere. I don’t think anyone else in my family really does. Except maybe Jace. He might’ve figured it out, but I bet he’s still stuck on the free will thing. That you won’t interfere because we’ve gotta do it ourselves, we’ve gotta make choices, and we can’t do that if the Father of all Father’s is looming over our shoulder. And that’s part of it, yeah, but it’s more than that, too, isn’t it?”

She has to sit up, because otherwise she’s going to choke on her own tears. Skittles spill across the hood of the Impala, and she doesn’t give a shit. “You won’t interfere because you love us. All of us, even the worst of us.” She says to the sky. “Even the actual devil. Even pond scum and slime mould and every last demon. Even me, even though I’m a blasphemy, an abomination, the devil reborn.” She pauses to gasp a few wet breaths. “I always knew, you know? You weren’t there, because you’re everywhere. But I don’t- Sorry, Granddad, but I don’t feel very loved, right now. I know you don’t like to- to interfere, but… but I could really use a miracle right about now, and I don’t know who else to turn to.”

She waits, but of course nothing happens. The stars don’t move, the world doesn’t shift. There isn’t even a change in the wind. Meira smiles bitterly, blinking tears onto her cheeks, and pulls her knees up to wrap an arm around them and bury her face in them. She gasps for air and lets it out in silent screams, with nothing left to pray for. Somewhere in the motel, a door opens and footsteps crunch across gravel.

“Meira?”

Meira’s head jerks up. Dean is standing there, looking sleep-rumpled and a little bleary, squinting at her in concern. Then his gaze drops to the mess of sweets scattered around her, and he snorts. He shoves them more towards the middle of the hood so that he can hop up to sit beside her, and snags a pack of M&Ms out of the pile for himself. “Can’t sleep?” He asks, and there’s a veneer of carelessness to it, like it’s an idle question and he didn’t just find her bawling her eyes out in the middle of the night, but he’s asking, and he’s there.

Thanks, Granddad. Meira thinks, as she tips over sideways to drop her head onto her dad’s shoulder. “I miss them.” She says quietly. “Never done Christmas without them before. Didn’t realise… how hard it’d hit me ‘til I got here, and suddenly it’s like I’m the last person on earth, it’s so lonely.”

There’s a long silence, but Meira doesn’t mind. She just watches the stars, and retrieves a skittle, and then starts in on the haribo. After a while, Dean shifts, but only enough to get his arm free so that he can put it around her shoulders. Meira shudders with another sob, and is so desperately glad when he doesn’t take that as a sign that he shouldn’t have done it.

“I felt the same, after Sam went to Stanford. Me and Dad were hunting separate, and Sam was gone. I knew I could just drive to Palo Alto, and he’d be there, but… That felt further than the moon, when he’d chosen to be there, instead of here.”

Meira nods a little against his shoulder, to let him know she’s listening, and she understands. “Pabbi used to dress up as Santa.” She says, sniffling and trying to put a little cheer into her voice. Pabbi didn’t so much as dress up as Santa as conjure one out of the ether for them, actually, but close enough. “And he’d have this huge sack of presents, right? But he’d only leave one. The rest, he’d say, we had to get for ourselves.”

Dean bursts out laughing. “He made you steal from Santa?” He asks, delighted.

“No, he made us hunt Santa.” Meira corrects, laughing a little herself. “Traps and tricks. A present would magically fall out of the sack every time we scored a ‘killing blow’.” Dean gasps out a startled curse, laughing too hard for anything else.

Once he’s calmed down a bit, he wipes at his eyes, still chuckling, and steals a few of her haribo. “Man, we never did anything that fun.” Dean bemoans, but not too seriously. “Most of the time Dad wasn’t even there for Christmas, tell you the truth, since monsters don’t stop just ‘cause it’s Christmas. One year Sammy gave me this, though.” He adds, lifting a hand to snag the cord around his neck and lift an amulet out from under his t-shirt. “Best Christmas present ever. Though, if you tell him that, I’ll put itching powder in your underwear.”

Meira catches it in the palm of her hand to draw it closer. It’s dark, but as she peers at it, she recognises it, despite never having seen the actual thing before in her life. Recognises it from her dad’s and qaada’s stories, and from some deeper well of knowledge that’s from the part of her that should have been nothing more than the Angel of Thursday, the remix, and instead ended up a little bit archangel.

And maybe it’s just lingering body-heat, but it feels warm in Meira’s palm. She grins, and lets it fall. “It’s pretty awesome.” She agrees. “And my lips are sealed, I swear.”

Love you too, Granddad.

[battle-of-alberta]

Chapter 4: Day Job - Easter Eggs

Hello again and welcome, if you read and enjoyed Chapter 4 of Battle of Alberta but wanted a closer look at some of the stuff I referenced or incorporated, links to more information, or just an explanation of my thought processes, you’re in the right place. Feel free to reply to this post or shoot me a message with any questions you have about this chapter I could add. 

Page 1

Hello Calgary is a song that was stuck in my head for weeks after I decided to use it as Calvin’s alarm! I linked to the version I had stuck in my head (which is also the version used for the intro to the Alberta Advantage Podcast), but there’s tons of other versions. It’s not only Calgary’s song, it was actually written for hundreds of American cities, but Calgary seemed to take a particular shine to the song that really stuck. 

Howdy is one of the two Olympic mascots for the 1988 Calgary Winter Olympics. Calgary was the first city to use two mascots for the Olympics; Howdy and Hidy welcomed people to the city with good old fashioned Western hospitality... I read a piece from 2007 quoting councilors on the decision to remove them from the city’s welcome signs saying something to the effect of “it’s time Calgary outgrew them!” which is pretty sad... obviously Calvin hates to let go of things.

Page 2

Calvin’s apartment is based on the Keynote Penthouse in downtown Calgary, which is just as ridiculous as i draw it. In fact, it’s MORE ridiculous in the photos.

His socks aren’t real but based on the Calgary flag, which literally has a cowboy hat on it. Because.

Page 3

Bankers Hall on the left side of the first panel is part of two twin towers in downtown Calgary designed to resemble cowboy hats on top. I wish I were making this up.

The Calgary Tower was built in the 70s to be the tallest building in the city by Husk- er, uh, “Malamute” Energy. It was surpassed at almost breakneck speeds by the rest of the skyline. And it shoots fire sometimes because of course it does.

Page 4

I would NEVER put real people in the background of my comics, especially not caricatures of infamous prime ministers. Don’t @ me.

The firm handshake thing is dedicated to an ad for a certain business school in calgary that i saw all over the airport one time when I was there that I can’t recall at the moment. 

On that note: the western overlay on his business talk is also real. A few months ago in a class I took, a guest speaker mentioned that a “gentleman’s handshake” was still an acceptable form of contract in Calgary, shivered, and said “no thank you”. I was laughing so hard internally I also choked internally.

Page 7

The Lethbridge viaduct which is symbolic of the city is confusingly also named the High Level Bridge, which as an Edmontonian annoys me, but I begrudgingly admit that Lethbridge’s was first.

Page 8

Lethbridge recently surpassed Red Deer as the third biggest city by population, which is still tiny at about 1/8th-1/10th the size of Edmonton or Calgary. They say “no hard feelings” since they often switch back and forth in this role, although since recent cuts to post secondary on top of a pandemic it is unlikely that RDC will be a fully fledged university anytime soon.

Ed’s weird socialist agenda faces only minor setbacks. He’s allowed to elect people too, you know.

Page 9

For the love of god LEAVE YOUR CLIPPINGS ON THE LAWN!

I just assume Lilith enjoys ikebana for reasons

Page 10

okay ngl Amazing Race Canada 2019 (Season 7) was the best season and I’m not just saying that because I’m biased towards my team. They did ikebana in the Edmonton episode and my heart... 

Astounding Trek is what they refer to it as in Kim’s Convenience (S03E11)

Seriously my team is the best team do NOT @ me. 

Page 11

I believe the beer in panel one is from Coulee Brew Co. This is more for local colour than for endorsement, I don’t drink so you’ll have to tell me if it’s any good.

For non-Canadians or for Canadians who missed my subtle dragging, I am referencing Prime Minister Justin Trudeau (who said the quote) and outgoing Conservative Party Leader Andrew Scheer (who recently got into a scandal about pretending to be an insurance broker when he was not qualified).

This comic took place before the federal election of October 2019, where Justin Trudeau scraped by with a sobering minority government. Many people across the country are frustrated with Trudeau for different (and evolving) reasons, but he is particularly hated in western Canada and especially Alberta for qualities including his perceived weakness and his poor efforts to ‘compromise’ on such projects as the Keystone XL pipeline. 

Personally, I don’t agree with many reasons that people in Alberta hate him, but I still have a lot of reasons to hate him anyway. He’s not the woke bae you think he is, and he is a coward. However, thats not the point of this comic.

Page 12

The cartoon Calvin is watching is an episode of Dudley Do-Right. I made the horrible mistake of re-watching the live action version after drawing this. It was Bad with no redeeming qualities beyond Brendan Fraser’s face.

The 60s were a hip and happening time in Canada on a national level: apart from the threat of nuclear war, we were busy beavers celebrating the country’s centennial and the world expo in Montreal. Provincial leaders started meeting with each other for the first time, bilingualism and multiculturalism were making headlines, and the Socreds (Social Credit Party) were in the middle of their almost dynastic reign in Alberta.

Page 13

Fort McMurray is connected to the rest of the world either by air or by a highway which is so prone to danger and bottle necking that it is nicknamed the Highway of Death. Edmonton is the most major destination at the end of this highway, and thus Mac is quite used to crashing at Ed’s place when things go south (which seems to be an awful lot.) He’s happy for access to cheap beer.

Page 14

This is Patches’ first appearance in the main storyline. He is a rescue slash emotional support dog and a malamute/husky/??? mix. Mac pretends he’s a guard dog but he really only guards Mac’s brain.

Mac picks up a lot of east coast slang, ‘darts’ for cigarettes being one example. 

The take-out packages are the kids boxes from Oodle Noodle... many fond memories of getting take out with my friends from there ;u;

Page 17

The nostalgia panel is full of Edmonton memorabilia including: A Klondike Days flag, a photo of young Wayne Gretzky, old and proposed city flags, a flag for the CFL team (which I deliberately drew backwards), a redesigned Oilers logo from the mid aughts, and of course the Alberta flag in the center. Many of these items have colonial/racist baggage associated with them.

Page 22

Panel one is a delicious shot of some green onion cakes, the unofficial civic food of Edmonton. 

Vulcan Ale is indeed a real thing you can buy with your money - it’s an American beer from Montana but available in western Canada. See also the Federation of Beer based in Alberta... we are a province of Trekkies (although if you ask Ed, he actually prefers Star Wars)

Page 23

Pizza 73 is just whatever the worst generic pizza chain in your area is but for Alberta (Eastern Canadians, think Pizza Pizza).

That’s all for now folks!

[eldritchsurveys]

649.

What was the last TV show you watched? >> Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure.

Do you like Family Guy? >> Nope.

Have you ever been in the hospital for more than a week? >> Yeah, in the psychiatric ward.

What is your favorite thing from McDonalds? >> I usually order a McDouble, sometimes with a small fry.

Spell your first name backwards. >> Derdrom. I’ve done this on enough surveys that now I don’t even have to think about it, it’s just embedded in my brain like any other word.

Do you have any pets? >> We have a cat.

Have you ever seen a therapist? >> Yes. Have I ever seen a useful one? No.

What is your favorite classic movie? >> I’m fond of The Day the Earth Stood Still. Is that considered a classic? It’s certainly old enough.

Are you a fan of summer or winter more? >> Summer.

Are you good at ice skating? >> I have never even worn an ice skate.

As a child, what did you want to be growing up? >> Oh, a variety of things, I’m sure.

Are you good at spelling? >> Yes.

Do you have any children of your own yet? >> No. LMAO “yet”. Please.

What is your favorite commercial on TV right now? >> ---

How bored are you right now? >> I’m not bored exactly, I’m annoyed and restless because I want to play ESO but the updating is taking ages. (It’s been almost an hour and barely a dent has been made.) Just let me play my game already.

Does your phone hold a charge for a long time? >> Eh, long enough, I guess.

Do you believe in ghosts? >> I’m always open to that interpretation of an event.

Have you found your soul mate yet? >> ---

Tell me a random fact about yourself. >> I was born with twelve fingers.

What is your dream car? >> Bold of you to assume I dream about having a car.

Do you have to sleep with blankets on at night? >> I prefer the sensation of sleeping under my weighted blankets, but usually the reality is simply that I overheat too easily.

When's the last time you went swimming? >> ---

Have you been to the beach yet this summer? >> ---

Do you use Facebook chat? >> Occasionally.

Do you think you would make a good model? >> No.

Are you a good singer? >> I sing well enough for my purposes.

Can you play any instruments? >> No.

Do the Emergency Alert System noises on TV freak you out? >> I haven’t heard those in many years, but from what I remember, they are mostly just obnoxious.

Do you live close to a nuclear power plant? >> No.

What is your favorite flower? >> Sunflower.

Have you ever called the cops on someone? >> No, nor would I be inclined to (unless it was the most dire of circumstances, I guess). I’d have to have faith in the system to do that.

What time do you usually stay up to? >> Anywhere between 10p and 1a.

Have you ever been at a summer camp as a child? >> Yeah.

Are you a fan of opera music? >> Not particularly, but it can be interesting.

Who do you think the prettiest celebrity is? >> ---

Do you judge people by their skin color? >> Not unless they’re so orange that I can’t help but be repulsed by their compulsive tanning obsession.

Is your bed comfortable? >> Yes, and I love it. I wish it were a little bigger, certainly, but I can’t help the size of my room.

Have you ever made a survey on here? >> No.

How many text messages do you think you send a day? >> Usually zero.

Do you consider yourself popular? >> No.

Do you have more friends than you do enemies? >> ---

Describe your perfect date. >> ---

Have you ever lost money by gambling? >> Nope.

Do you know how to ride a horse? >> Nope.

What is the closest yellow item to you? >> A mug. It’s white on the outside but yellow on the inside.

When's the last time you've been to the mall? >> Oof. December? Yeah, because that’s when I bought Sparrow’s Christmas present.

Are you a good liar? >> I’m sure I can be.

Do your parents trust you? >> ---

What's the last thing you've bought for someone else? >> I assume that was the aforementioned Christmas present.

Are you hiding a deep dark secret from the world? >> No.

Have you ever dropped your cell phone in water? >> Yeah. I remember when the Razr just came out and everyone was hype about having a phone you could fit in your back pocket. So of course I put mine in my back pocket and of course I ended up forgetting it was there and it fell into the toilet when I dropped trou. (After years of having phones in my back pocket, I now remember to take it out before using the loo, lmao. But it was still new back then!)

Are you a fan of reality TV? >> Not really.

Do you think you look older or younger than you are? >> I don’t have an opinion.

Does your family have a lot of money? >> ---

What job do you want to have in the next five years? >> ---

Are you planning on going to college? >> No.

Do you have a good sense of humor? >> I think it works for me.

What time is it where you are right now? >> 11.57a EST.

Do you have a short attention span? >> I wouldn’t say that, but I can be really mentally restless at times.

If you got a new pet today, what would you name it? >> ---

What is your favorite dessert? >> I don’t have one.

Do you like white chocolate or dark chocolate better? >> I hate white chocolate. Dark chocolate is good.

Do you like pot roast? >> No.

Are you a good cook? >> I can cook, but I wouldn’t say I have any great skill in it.

What are you afraid of most? >> ---

Do you like bright or dull colors? >> It depends.

Where do most of your clothes come from? >> Most of my clothes came from a variety of different places, so there’s no, like, trend.

Do you still live with your parents? >> No.

Are you comfortable with your weight right now? >> Not going there.

How often do you exercise? >> I don’t make a habit of it.

Have you ever been in a car accident? >> No.

Are you a forgetful person? >> No.

What age do you want to get married at? >> I was married at 32.

What is your favorite fruit? >> ---

Do you drink energy drinks? >> No.

Do you listen to rap music? >> Sure.

Do you believe in God? >> God doesn’t seem to factor very heavily into my narrative. Sometimes I try to fit him in there, just to see, but he always ends up sliding back out.

Have you ever thought about being a stripper? >> Yeah, I’ve thought about it. For the money, you see. Luckily I did not actually try to be a stripper. It would not have suited me in the least.

What was your favorite show as a child? >> ---

Have you ever used Photoshop? >> Yeah, I used to use it a lot back in the day.

When's the last time you've had a headache? >> I don’t remember.

Are you tired right now? >> Not especially. Finally.

Do you cry easily? >> No.

Have you ever watched Pokemon? >> They used to play it on the television every afternoon in the psych ward I stayed in as a teenager. So I watched it then, because what the fuck else was there to do for entertainment in a place like that.

Have you ever been spied on? >> Not to my knowledge.

Do you hate a lot of people? >> No.

Are you easy to get along with? >> I don’t know. I guess it depends on what kind of person the other party is.

Can you speak Spanish or French? >> No. I have a passing understanding of Spanish, though.

How big is your room? >> Not very.

Are you afraid of spiders? >> Nope.

Do you like strawberries? >> I do.

When's the last time you've been outside? >> It’s been a few days.

Do you curse a lot? >> Eh, not as much as I could, I guess.

Do you pay attention to grammar when typing? >> I pay attention to whether what I’m saying makes communicable sense.

Do you watch soap operas? >> No. Unless you count Grey’s Anatomy. (I kind of do, ngl.)

Do you think aliens exist? >> I think it’s possible and I don’t see why I should think otherwise.

Who are you close with the most in your family? >> ---

Do you like morning talk shows? >> No.

Do you go to the gym regularly. >> I never go to the gym. That there is what I call a hostile environment. lmao

[invinciblerodent]

Propositioned by the Billionaire Moose - A moose(!!!) shifter romance liveblog

Yes, I’m doing this.

As requested by my dear friend @kurosmind, here it is, the first part of my (hopefully complete) liveblog of this wonderful trainwreck.

And before I would go on to cut this with a Read More, let me begin by saying that I am by no means being purposefully malicious. This is not a terrible book. It’s not a good one either (tbh, the other one I read from this series, “Her UnBearable Protector”, was, to me, much better- the titles are equally silly, but that one kept my attention way longer), but it’s not terrible, and this is purely for fun.

That being said, onto the shit-talking.

Also,

‘Nuff said.

This goes for the introductory blurb AND Chapter 1 as well- the plot is dead simple. It’s the one I would hesitate to call the “tried and true” plot because I hate it with such a burning passion, but it’s the one, you know the one, where the bratty and arrogant heir-dude has to find a wife in a set amount of time in order to get his inheritance.

Because the patriarchy is fun, and forcing someone who doesn’t want to get married into a rushed marriage is going to make for a good and healthy relationship that will benefit both him and his chosen bride. Only this time it’s a maple syrup empire, because THEY ARE MOOSE, and also Canada.

His name is Bryce Elanroux btw, not like it should matter because let’s face it, these kinds of protagonists could be called whatever and they would still all be mostly the same. It doesn’t even have the kind of Character™ that I like in these dude-names beyond it screaming “French-Canadian trust fund kid”. Like in the last one I read the prince was named Niccolito (and surprisingly he wasn’t Italian, what are the odds), and before that, the bear shifter dude was named Salvatore, and I physically cannot read that name without overpronouncing it to shit in an ostentatious and stereotypical Italian accent. Once I read one where the rock star guy was named Ari, and it took the book A WHILE to reveal that Ari was, in fact, short for -guess again because I guarantee it’s not what you expect- ARISTOTLE. So, to get back down from this tangent, Bryce is a real boring name, but not awful. Unfortunately it doesn’t fully embrace the silly or go way Italian for no reason. Gets a C- from me.

Oh, and this time there is also a Suddenly Appearing Cousin Who Is A Competitor For Grandpa’s Will™. Surprise. Where did I put my jaw. I hope that he’s not a moose so we can have just a regular dude in this, just watching in bewildered terror as his uncle and cousin turn into giant land-mammals.

I don’t know how to describe this next part (which is the last paragraph of chapter one), so I’m just going to show it to you as it is:

Charming fellow, isn’t he. Also, a buck with plenty of prancing years.

Chapter 2 begins with introducing our female protagonist, Melanie. Who is inexperienced with guys (check) and would like a “sturdy man” to take charge “for once” (check). It’s real confusing that she would begin by complaining that the reason for her inexperience is that she doesn’t want to actually physically hurt a man, but then also she complains about the juice she bought being heavy, but not really because she can carry it easily, but it’s heavy and there should be a man here to carry it. Makes me think that she too might be a shifter? Maybe a sharp one because she’s talking about giving guys stitches, and later she mentions having claws, but keeping them sheathed? I’d dig that, if she were like a tiger or some shit like that. Imagine what a moose-tiger hybrid would look like. 

Real stupid, I’d wager.

Oh, and she also fantasizes about killing her sick mother. Which, yeah, I kinda get because their relationship seems real abusive and draining for her, with no love between them whatsoever, but… look, folks. This girl is a grown-ass woman and has a degree and a job, and she’s lamenting that she has no money because she has to care for a woman whom she hates? Who sometimes flings scalding cocoa into her face because reasons. Leaves me wondering why she even does it? Obviously she can support herself, and it might be my European self talking with our public healthcare backing me up, but Canada, where this is set, also has a publicly funded healthcare system? So I don’t see why it would be cheaper for her to do all this than to have professionals at a hospital or a sanatorium care for this middle-aged woman living with chronic liver problems. It just seems like it’d be a simple enough issue to solve that doesn’t need a BILLIONAIRE MOOSE, but, y’know, some backbone. The ability to make decisions. Taking charge. Y’know, something these protag ladies all seem to sorely lack. Even the ones that make cryptic references to being a were-cat-tiger-bullshit creature.

Btw, a couple paragraphs later? I totally called it. Hell yeah she’s a shifter. And a sharp one. Not a tiger, but a cat-bullshit creature. Another call I’m making now, they’ll meet as animals first. Why else have them both be shifters?

Chapter 3 is back to the dude. Joy. (Side note- how clever would it be if this was a gay story, and the “boy-toy” character was named Fisher Bryce? Fisher-Price? Eh? Eh?)

Btw, I will never stop finding their use of the word “rack” to refer to his antlers funny. It makes it sound like he has a pair of tits on his head. Which, uh….

It just conjures this image in my head, every time.

Oh, and I called it again, they meet shifted. She’s a lynx. Not as good as the image of a tiger shivering somewhere in Canada, but hey.

She’s a furry. The weird kind. Also I had to google “moose ass” for this.

In this chapter, the moose (the prey animal) saves the lynx (the predator) from three wolves (predators). No idea why the wolves would even attack a lynx, or why they would be afraid of a prey animal (which, okay, I get moose are fucking huge and strong, BUT HE IS STILL A DING-DANG DUMB DEER), especially if they’re all shifters, but y’know. There is nothing like a good ol’ Damsel in Distress situation to start off a novel.

We meet the cousin too, Rory, who -so far- seems somewhat less of a shithead than our protagonist.Who, upon finding out that his grandpa is dying, is only talking about the inheritance and shows…. Literally zero compassion. Or nothin’. Even though they seemed to be at least kinda close. Okay then. Asslord.

Also, grandpa is a real romantic. Apple from the tree, I see.

The chapter closes with, and I wish I hadn’t seen this, the third person limited narrator literally saying “#betweenacrackandahardplace”. Which is just. Super bad to read. It took me like five whole seconds to decipher what it was saying, and it still doesn’t make sense.

Here seems like a good place to cut this- I wouldn’t want to go on too long, in three chapter increments seem like a good way to do this. Next time I have a day off, I’ll definitely get to the rest of this and post chapters 4, 5, and 6 because it’s, ngl, real fun to bitch about a not-very-good book.

Again, this is by no means as awful as the last one I tried this review-thing with (that one I didn’t even get to finish because jesus christ it was awful and the reason I hiss at regency romances from afar), but it’s…. quite silly, and has enough opportunities to poke fun of it to last me a while. :) I can’t yet call if it’s gonna be that bad, but we’ll see. If it gets too good I’ll stop this, because then it’s no fun, but.... I have a feeling I might be in for it.

[beebosbitchh]

1-65 ;)

holy heck ! thank you sophiw i lov u 🍒

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

i dont understand this question?? like sometimes i doubt my own existence and other times i doubt that i exist to certain ppl? ya?

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

2,, normal amount? like good for sleep but pitch black is scaryy but not to the point i need the escape ?? if that makes sense??

3. The person you would never want to meet?

guy fieri, i dont think i need to know if hes actually real ? like is he real and from this dimension or from flavortown (which he has a very scarily detailed description of)?? thats not something i need to know

4. What is your favorite word?

hmm, probably ‘fam’ obviously

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

a willow tree !!!!!!!!!! i just talked to my mom about this :-0

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

ngl but i dont look in the mirror anymore unless its lip syncing along to a song sung by a guy/someone w a deeper voice bc i feel like it suits me better! gotta love coping w dysphoria!

7. What shirt are you wearing?

baseball tee, gay

8. What do you label yourself as?

nb, lesbian, fool

9. Bright room or dark room?

dark room

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

slepe

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

10-11 when i was in 5th grade. i still only had two friends but i was way more extroverted and everything was so carefree and i was very invested in adventure time and art. i think that was the most of a childhood i got? i honestly did not do much as a kid and i wish i had..

12. Who told you they loved you last?

sophiw ! tumblr user almightyportraits ! the loml !

13. Your worst enemy?

x

14. What is your current desktop picture?

one from apple called ‘abstract shapes’ its very orange but also blue which is my fave color pairing atm so its perfect

15. Do you like someone?

tumblr user vahilla

16. The last song you listened to?

megan played ‘marceline’ by willow in her car ! a song i suggested to her a few months ago and it makes me very happy that she likes it especially bc we bonded over adventure time in 6th grade :-)

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

mmyy seelfff ??

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

mmmyseyyffelllff ??

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do? 

eh whats the point

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

n o ne ? 

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

what is the opposite of nb,, i feel like if i was opposite of how i present id be a girl, which is a verryyy weird thought for me, pass

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

no :-/

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

uh first of all blood, like, ill pass out,, second of all,, literally everything worries me

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

jimmy johns #16, turkey, bacon, lettuce, tomato, NO MAYO

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

im a very practical person so the least boring answer i can come up w is more art supplies

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

denmark

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?

fukcing , acetoNe

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

i think a FIRST rule would have to be pretty IMPORTANT so probably smt like how ~WE THE PEOPLE~ are all EQUAL would be a pretty good start and pretty UNDENIABLE and STRAIGHT FORWARD especially if it was the FIRST thing in this,, hmm lets call it the CONSTITUTION, in the completely hypothetical society

29. What is your favorite expletive?

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuk cufck ufc kfuck 

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

sunglasses??!!! that shit gotta be bright huh>?? gotta protect my retinas 

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

i wanna say my first relationship made me a better person but that shit was rreeeaaallyyyy fucking awful and 4 months (+recovery months) that i will never get back and i think ? maybe ?? i wouldve been ok without it ? idk just a thought

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world! 

spain ?!?!? why not + i sorta know the language? thatd b cool

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

zoey my dog :-( i miss her a lot, this month it will have been two years oh my god i miss her so much

34. What was your last dream about?

the last one i remember was a nightmare about someone tryna murder me i was very scared

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

i think so , when i was two i got really really sick and couldve died ?

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

ahh yes ! we gave hhimm,, fruit snack nipples, please forgive me fathr

38. What is the color of your socks? 

grey w blue n orange stripes ( again i lov blue n orange together, my shirt is teal and i have an orange hat on wow)

39. What type of music do you like?

all! i had to train this new guy at work and im sooo awkward but once why started talking about music it was easy for me to talk bc it was smt we both really like !!! i felt like i could actually communicate w feeling a disconnect it was nice ! we talked mostly about rap which was cool and unexpected but i could do it ? i really love music and i love being able to know enough to talk about it ,, isk 

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

sunrises, ive been pushing myself to wake up unreasonably early to have more time to myself and i get to watch the sunrise most days which is nice

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

chocolate 

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)

whom?

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

college? god i dont even know… smt w art.. by an illustrator or art teacher or freelance artist or graphic designer ,, i really dont know

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

one thing ?!!?!? i wish i was neurotypical

46. Are you reliable?

yes? i try hard to be? i hope so ?

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

u still a lil bitch ?

48. Do you hold grudges? 

nope i try not to, ive had too many toxic petty people in my life that i dont need to be one myself.. now this is grudges w/o reason, but if ive given people several ‘second chances’ and theyre still (thumbs down) then ill avoid them but w/i reason?

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

DOG HORSES BIG DOGs

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

mm probably smt w my lab partner from last year. she always sends me weird quotes from a fanfiction shes reading and its weird but i really appreciate that she still talks to me or talks to me at all tbh

51. Are you a good liar?

nooo ?? i try not to lie? mb not tell the full truth but idk , i feel like id feel too guilty

52. How long could you go without talking?

uhh literally days like i already fucking do.. i m taking this as verbally but i dont get texts so like, it would not be hard

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

before i went to short hair i used to alllwaayyys wear a tight ponytail every single day bc i wasnt girly enough to do anything w it and it was really really gross like thank god i cut it all off

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

heck yeah

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

*clears throat*

h-

hewwo?

56. What do you like on your toast?

butter and jam

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

x

58. What would be you dream car?

razor scooter

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

sometimes im just too physically or emotionally exhausted to stand so ill just,, lay down? ive fallen asleep in the shower before ha

60. Do you believe in aliens?

yup

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

whenever it comes up but i dont ,, seek it out

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

Q

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

dragons tf

64. What do you think about babies?

evil, ugly, dont see the appeal. open ur eyes ppl !!!! bbs are n Ot cute !!

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.

x