#the ladies i want always have my back !!!!!!! what is this madness srsly

[enden-k]

i will now proceed to cry so hard until i throw up and pass out

[coinofstone]

5x03 The Death Song of Uther Pendragon

Arthur went out to collect firewood while Merlin watched over the dying lady 🥺

They saved a woman from being burned at the stake for sorcery and she repays them with a super powerful magic artifact

"He's always like this at the anniversary of his coronation."

"I thought it was a cause for celebration?"

"It is, but it's also the anniversary of Uther's death."

I would like to refer everyone back to my 4x03 post where I point out that Uther was stabbed on Arthur's birthday, which is also the anniversary of his mother's death. Uther would've died a day or two later. So within the span of let's say, half a week, Arthur's got his birthday, his mother's death anniversary, his father's death anniversary, and his coronation. He needs a hug. It's gotta be the hardest week of the year for him, every year. Speaking from personal experience, I know I wouldn't be anywhere near as upright as Arthur is, for all his thousand yard staring.

It's a very nice sarcophagus but what is going on with Uther's left leg?

No srsly wut is this

Is it reeeeally swollen? Did he break his ankle in the fight or perhaps when he fell?

Ok I'll stop being mean

The ONE time Merlin knocks

You think this was a sex thing? I think it might've been a sex thing.

Spirit!Uther, while traumatizing in his own right, still isn't as frightening as actual King Uther could be.

Oooof I have Things To Say™️ about this. The reason Arthur chooses to use the horn, to use magic, is because, "there isn't a day that goes by when I don't think of the thing I wish I'd said to him." But when he gets to speak to Uther, he doesn't actually get to say very much at all, because Uther immediately begins criticizing everything he's done as king. Arthur doesn't get what he sought at all, instead of an opportunity to tell his father any of the things he wished to say, he gets spoken to, harshly criticized. It's a major blow. And he says as much, when the single man tear spills over and he says "this can't be the last time I ever see you" - yes the line is foreshadowing Uther's haunting of Camelot but it's also signaling that Arthur's been traumatized; he went from having had his father mortally wounded in saving Arthur's own life, to having seen his father 3+ years into Arthur's rule as King of Camelot, and point blank being told Uther is disappointed in him. Not proud of him - actively un-proud. We don't really know what exactly Arthur wanted, if he'd hoped his father would've seen all the good his way of ruling had done and praised him, but I think it's pretty safe to assume that was on the wish list.

Be careful what you wish for indeed.

I AMUSE MYSELF. (I spent two hours figuring out how to create this please appreciate me)

Merlin's angry face when Arthur tells goin what Uther said is literally all of us.

I feel terrible for this but when Percival is leaving Gaius' chambers and he stops to look at the wall-torch, I immediately flash backed to Alice Troughton on commentary in S4 saying "Percival's a bit of a wuss isn't he?"

This is also awful but this episode kind of makes me miss the castle-centric contained episodes of S1

Never any guards around when you're being attacked by the ghost of your husband's dead dad, typical.

I understand Merlin bringing Guinevere to Gaius but putting her in Merlin's bed??????

The way Bradley and Colin both convincingly jumped when they turned around and found Gaius had snuck up right behind them kills me every time.

"Poetry". What he means to say there is, 'why didn't you just tell him we were fucking, since that would actually sound less gay'

So. Merlin took the ghost visibility potion but he can't see Utter knocking over barrels and shelves and things to trap in that store room.

Also why is there a pigeon in a windowless store room? Now I'm wondering why there aren't more birds randomly flying into the citadel, cuz they do have quite a lot of open windows... you'd think that might happen now and again.

Mmmmmmmm

Hmmmmmmm

Ooooof I love a bamf husband coming through to deal with a shit-for-brains abusive father... ghost.

^^actual canon scene

Was Tony shot entirely on green for this? That unearthly blue glow even in close ups where he doesn't look like he's on a green scene makes me wonder.

The 'horseplay' scene at the end was so full of sexual tension and d/s undertones that I literally do not want to say anything lest tumblr flag this post for content.

Commentary is Angel and Rupert. The two regulars who were in the least number of scenes in this ep. Since this post is already crazy long I'll keep this brief.

Aaaaand it's the first time either of them have seen this episode 😂 wow.

They've made 'horn' jokes and Rupert's gone full on tongue in cheek dad jokes.

They are also cracking jokes on Colin being all jacked up for S5 compared to previously when he was so skinny hehe... personally I ain't mad at him 😂

Fifteen minutes into the episode and Leon makes his first appearance

The little bottles and decor things in Gaius' chambers are part of a static set so they pretty much just sit there... Angel says that some of the contents have started to go moldy and they found maggots in one of them 🤢

They're talking about Gwen's new hair and while Angel is being really diplomatic, I get the impression she's as annoyed as I am by it. It literally doesn't match her own hair at all. But she also said some people saw her without the piece on and just said 'omg you cut your hair' so I guess 🤷‍♀️

The scene where Gwen is knocked out by a vase smashing her head - Angel says she was hit with the heavier bottom piece of it, which hurt more than she was expecting, and she wound up with a bump on her head from it.

Not a word about Colin picking up Angel 😢

They're talking about childhood pets and a beverage called lilt? Anyway Angel is really clever and Rupert's corny af but he's funny and I love them both.

Oh this is interesting: Rupert says he and the director talked about having Leon walking through the corridor hand in hand with the cook when he stumbles upon Merlin and Arthur's 'poetry lesson', but they weren't allowed to do that bc it would've been just a little bit too much, or a little too tongue in cheek. Which I'm taking to mean, would've accentuated the subtext of 'poetry' too much.

Angel and Rupert didn't know how they got Uther all glowy either, though Angel said it was probably lighting

Rupert says the line where Utter got caught off, what he was gonna say was "Merlin has ... been to the gym!" 😂😂😂😂😂

They really are great together doing these things

Rupert's story was the horse he had been riding all season had a foal, and nobody even knew she'd been pregnant. They just came out one morning and saw she'd given birth, and he got a call to inform him. That's kind of sweet. I wonder if he sent them some apples or something.

[ngame989]

“Brew” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 6

Writing: @ngame989​

Art: @toxicpsychox​

Editing: @toxicpsychox​, @seddm​, an IRL friend

Alternate fic links - FFnet, AO3

Summary: After close to a year on Earthni, Tom's been dragged back into the princely life, and it's a lot less exciting than he'd expected. With Star and Marco away on urgent business, can Janna help him turn a boring errand into a fun adventure?

Comic Page

Masterpost

This one’s a nice change of pace from the last two chapters, I think. TGG’s still a Starco-focused work, expect these to be the exception not the norm, but I think it’s important to strike a balance. See below for the text, hope you enjoy!

“No results.” Huh? Three eyes narrowed at the screen in frustration. Maybe a different search term? “No results.” Alright Tom, no big deal, man. Maybe you just spelled something wrong. Annnnnd… there. “No results.” How could there be nothing?

Tom leaned back in the chair and sighed, exercising restraint over the little anger demons inside him as he’d trained himself to do. In the past he’d needed a physical bunny to pet if he wanted even a hope of keeping his cool, but at this point suppressing the urge was such reflex that most would think he just had a regular Mewman quick temper and nothing more in all but the most extreme of conditions, but he was getting pretty close to that point now. Grandpa Relicor’s study had everything, or so he thought, but this was the first time he could ever remember being here where it come up short. He’d checked every shelf, everything he could think in the computer, had even fireblasted a few of the shelves just to see if there were any hidden switches or anything. Even Relicor had been at a loss and had been screeching in distress on the floor for long enough that Tom’s brain had graciously tuned it out. What could be so important about this book his mom needed? He hadn’t even had time to change his casual graphic tee from a cartoon he liked, simply tossing his maroon jacket over it before heading out at his mother’s behest. He wasn’t one to say no to her, but it had been hours since he’d shown up here and he was no closer to figuring this out than he had been this morning.

Suddenly his phone buzzed, displaying the familiar beaming face of his ex-girlfriend close up to the camera. A toothy grin erupted as he picked it up, holding the phone up for a video feed. “Heya, Starship.”

“Hey, Tom!” Star beamed into the camera. “How’s it hanging? Long time no see. So,” she rambled out in one breath, “I may have a teensie weensie wittle problem.” She backed up to reveal her hair in complete disarray, sans horns, and black marks all over her light blue dress. Before Tom could even ask the question, her other hand held up charred fragments of her headband. “Someone still hasn’t learned how to use an Earth oven properly!” she forced out through gritted teeth.

“Look, gurl, I said I was like, so sorry! All the Cloud Kingdom kitchens are powered by glitter and horn blasts, like that’s just how ovens are supposed to be, that is all I am saying here,” Ponyhead’s indignant voice chimed in from behind, punctuated by a snort.

“Anyway, we just finished putting out the fires and I need a new headband and their website says they’re almost out of stock and I’ve wanted to show Marco around the Underworld for a while and- wait, is that screeching in the background? Where are you?”

Tom shuffled away from the elder demon still writhing on the floor and cleared his throat. “Just in Grandpa’s study trying to find something for my mom, she really wants it today. I don’t know if I can go- but I can still send the carriage for you guys, if you want.”

“Do you need help with that?” Marco inquired as he peeked his head into the frame, casually wrapping an arm around Star.

“Naaaah, no big deal,” Tom shrugged. “You two should go, though! I can just fly over whenever I finish this.”

Star and Marco looked at each other hesitantly. “Alright,” she said. “Carriage to our house in maybe five minutes?” A fire alarm went off behind her followed by a scream from Ponyhead and an even girlier one from Marco. “Maybe ten,” Star sighed, burying her face in her free hand.

“You got it,” Tom chuckled.

“OK, bye!” Star said with relief before hanging up. He rolled his shoulders from inside his jacket and ran his hands through his hair before stepping into the main foyer, taking advantage of the space to summon the carriage and its horses, the incantations coming effortlessly to him. Demons had been fortunate enough to retain their powers on Earthni, but the location underground and the relative lack of portaling methods available left them even more isolated than previously. While most of the other kingdoms had dissolved or integrated into a loose coalition of government covering all of the Echo Creek area, the Underworld had been content to stay completely under the banner of Lord and Lady Lucitor, and Tom found himself pitching in more and more in his role as Prince. In truth, he would have appreciated the company his friends were offering, but he knew how much it had meant to Star to be able to give this life up, and he didn’t want to drag her - either of them, really, considering Marco had earned an official title on Mewni himself - back into the boring thick of regal errands. Was Prince Thomas Draconius Lucitor really going to let some stuffy old book collection get the best of him? Hah, as if.

With a flick of his wrist, the half-demon shuttled the carriage to the surface in a pillar of flame, barely looking and instead pulling out his new phone. He was still getting the hang of the new and improved Reflectacorp’s Earth tech integration, but he’d at least learned how to open yesterday’s text conversation thread from its new message notification.

Janna: anti-gravity potion attempt 4 failed. affected bottle glass itself and launched into sky. note to self: work under roof. star and marco’s suggestions didnt work either. not all bad though, it went towards cloud kingdom lol

Tom: careful, don’t hit pony’s ego and make it fly even higher ·;) btw pony + starco are going shopping in underworld soon. im stuck working for mom though.

Janna: stores r lame. even in underworld. and srsly dude u gotta stop using starfans dumb name for them. otoh it bugs them so actually nvm go 4 it

Tom: it was mine first >·:( it saves letters when they’re together!

Janna: which is always

Tom: exactly. speaking of which, they’re here ttyl

Star stepped out of the carriage in a nice white polka dotted green dress, quickly followed by Marco, the pair’s fingers remaining intertwined until they gave him a hello hug, and Tom honestly wasn’t sure they’d stopped holding hands even then. Ponyhead burst out a moment later with her phone floating in front of her pointed at herself, and she was in the middle of a monologue to no one in particular.

“-so yeah anyway as you all can see we have now arrived in the Underwoooorld. So yeah this is, like, basically the best place on all of Earthni to go shopping as I’ll be showing you today. Oh yeah, I guess some demon boys live here too. Oh my goodness, say hello you guuuys,” she rolled her eyes as she butted in between Star and Tom, side-eyeing him for a split second before grinning back into the camera. After all this time Pony still hadn’t dropped the passive aggression over his and Star’s messy history; Tom had to admit it was a bit understandable, but did she really have to keep it up in such an annoying way? He rolled his eyes - it was Ponyhead he was thinking about here. “OK, the Ponyhead Experience will be taking a short break. Tune back in soon! Love y’all, buhbye!” She snapped the phone shut and caught it with her tongue. “Ugh, why do all of my vlogs with you dorks get like ten times as many viewers? Tom, you were in the shot for like three seconds and do you know what happened? 2000 more people tuned in! What the heck! It’s like, just because I have one less horn and one less eye I’m not exciting to you? But I can’t stay mad at my adooooring fans.”

“Must be the Lucitor charm.” He flashed a toothy smile and a pair of finger guns at her, accidentally flinging his phone across the room in the process. “Totally planned,” he blurted out with a much less authentic grin. Marco chuckled and picked it up, handing it back and patting him mock-sympathetically on the shoulder while holding back a smirk.

Star giggled but tapped her foot impatiently, looking around the room nervously. “OK, great catching up, but on the way here I checked the website and the headband shop is almost out of stock! We have to go, now! Let’s move it, people! Tom, can we borrow the carriage for the day?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Fine by me.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou, you’re the best!”

“You sure you don’t need anything?” Marco inquired again.

“You heard the girl, Marco, my audience wants to see us get our shop on!”

Tom blew a raspberry, pushing them towards the carriage. “Relax, it’s nothing. I’m practically done already! Tooootally almost done!”

Marco finally relented, nodding his assent. Star was bouncing up and down so much that she looked ready to launch around the room. He giggled as she wrapped both her arms around his middle and kissed his cheek before hauling him the rest of the way into the carriage. “C’mon boo, mama needs a new pair of horns. Plus we can get whatever you need, too! I saw a few things in the catalog that would look preeeetty good on you,” she sing-songed, walking two fingers up his chest to boop his nose after they plopped down onto the seat together. Ponyhead mimed vomiting at Tom, who silently laughed in response; they were so engrossed with each other that Tom was fairly certain they wouldn’t have noticed even if he’d shouted his laughter, though. He blankly stared at the spot the carriage had been for a few seconds after it exited in a blaze.

“Pretty gross, right?” Tom started and launched a fireball in the direction of the voice, hovering away from the intruder. A split second after, his vision caught up with his instincts and saw Janna in her usual green shirt and beanie and yellow skirt, sans jacket, nonchalantly sidestep the flame. “You do the same thing every time, you really need to work on that,” she chided with her arms crossed and a devious smirk on her face.

He rubbed his temple and gestured at her in sullen disbelief. “How did you-”

“Roof of the carriage.”

“Huh.” An eyebrow up in surprise, studying her expression. “You never usually, you know, answer that.”

She shrugged, kicking a boot into the hard stone floor. “Whatever, guess I’m just bored. Besides, half the reason I do that is to get a rise out of Marco,” she slyly snickered, and Tom couldn’t help but join in. “Alright, demon boy, what adventure are we going on today?”

Tom crossed his arms apprehensively. “Just trying to find a book for my mom, not really much of an adventure.”

“Like I said, dude, I’m bored and shopping is dumb. I don’t mind hanging out here for a study session or whatever, your family’s got great taste in decor.” She picked a skull off the ground and tossed it back and forth between her hands. He grinned back at her, grateful for the company. “So what kind of creepy curses are in this book?”

The pair started walking back into the study as their conversation continued. “Don’t think there are any. It’s called ‘Historia Homewnum’, according to my mom, so it’s probably a history book but that’s all I know.”

“Darn. Demon history’s bound to be pretty cool, though.”

“You’d be surprised how little actually happens down here, it’s just a lot of maintenance. Last month the most important thing I did was a ribbon-cutting ceremony at a new boba cornshake shop, it’s really caught on here since the Cleaving. But man is it good! Marco was right, the little pearls are just so tasty, I like the creamed corn version best.”

“What is it with you and corn, seriously...” Janna shuddered.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it.” He knew he’d gotten distracted thinking about the delicious creamy beverage, but that didn’t seem like an adequate reason to look so horrified, especially coming from Janna. Not able to figure out any other reason she might be disgusted by his comments, he got his thoughts back on track. “Really don’t know why she wants this thing so much. Anyway, I already checked the entire study for it, and the search archives don’t have anything either. Oh well, what can you do, might as well just give up and-”

“Found something,” Janna piped up, somehow already in the computer chair with her feet on the desk.

“Really? How?” he asked incredulously, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis.

“OK, I didn’t actually find the book, but maybe we should check this place out.” He leaned into the screen to see a Mewgle search for ‘how to find weird book in underworld’ on the screen.

“I already tried that, Janna!”

“Yeah, but your antivirus was blocking this link to some place called the ‘Librarinth’.”

Tom slammed his palm into his forehead. “Of course, the Librarinth! How could I not think to look there, that’s where all the oldest books are. Why was it getting blocked?”

She clicked on the link and both recoiled at the sight: an abhorrent patterned background with almost unreadable randomly colored text and low quality cartoon images scattered all around the page. “Yeah, it’s awful,” she said in response to his obvious horror. “Seriously, whoever must made this website must be, like, a thousand years old.”

“Probably , yeah, but why does that have anything to do with-” His eyes widened in realization as he clapped his hands together in contemplation. “Right, humans and their lifespans. Go on.”

“Look.”

She scrolled past the despondent, blurry faces of demons of all shapes and sizes in the staff section until she arrived at the catalog, folding her arms triumphantly. Tom excitedly butted in, typing into the search box and being greeted with a loading wheel. “Uh, Janna? It’s not working.”

“Pfft, yeah, I might actually be dead by the time the search finishes. But that doesn’t matter because they have our book. It’s the header image for the whole catalog.” He squinted and brought his face closer to the monitor, and to his surprise the title was clear as day on the cover of the book, although all the other information was too difficult to make out. “Alright, let’s go. Main page says the Librarinth is on Floor 216.”

With a snap of his fingers, the demon elevator was summoned into a bookshelf much as it had been the day they had dealt with the Blood Moon. Relicor’s shrieking, which had slowed to a whimper since they’d left, resumed in full; fortunately they began descending, which quickly put them out of earshot. Tom awkwardly stretched his arms, unsure what exactly to say. She was his friend, yes, but he was never the best at small talk, and Janna being Janna didn’t make that any easier. After long, messy years of broken hearts and misguided feelings, he finally felt comfortable forging friendships, but even though they got along quite well there was something about Janna that made that vibe a lot less effortless than with Marco or even Star. Thoughts of his other friends reminded him of something. “Uh, by the way… how did you even know about the carriage earlier?”

“A girl’s gotta keep some secrets.”

“Pony was posting about it every 15 seconds,” he guessed, calling Janna’s bluff.

“Touché. Every 10, though,” she coolly responded. “Ha, now she’s just flipping out because Star and Marco have way more likes than her selfies.”

“Figured you’d have him bugged or something,” Tom chuckled as he scooted over to get a look at Janna’s screen, and sure enough there was a picture collage of Star sitting in Marco’s lap with tens of thousands of likes and comments already. They were laughing their butts off at themselves in a mirror in front of them with novelty sunglasses, fake mustaches, goofy props, and even a few absurd full-body costumes; Ponyhead joined the fun for a few but just as often butt in trying to take over the mirror by herself.

“Ew, no, I disabled it all months ago. Boyfriend Tom was already too cutesy for me, and you two just had a little flirty fling. Do you think I’d really want to see or hear whatever Star and Marco have going on? They’re, like, deeply in love, or whatever, and it’s gotten even worse in the last few weeks.”

He murmured in tacit agreement. Now that he thought about it, they had seemed even more affectionate than usual, but he wasn’t too keen on uncovering why that might be. The ding of the elevator saved him from any further speculation, and he and Janna stepped out of the elevator into the lobby, which was empty with cobwebs coating most of the weathered stone walls. Janna looked at him with a quizzical expression. “Anyway, so the Librarinth is basically a combination of a library and a labyrinth-”

“Right, I got that,” she curtly retorted.

“The legends say that some ancient librarian demons wanted to challenge any who sought knowledge, so they hid all the books in a giant maze that only the worthy could navigate. But everyone who made it still decided to organize it thoroughly for some reason, and you still had to check out the books and bring them back and all that.”

She ran a finger over the dust on the front counter, and the surface of the desk sizzled in response, causing her to pull her hand back before poking the bubbles that formed with a curious smile. “So why is it completely empty?”

Tom rubbed the back of his neck. “Weeeeeeell, after a few people went missing or insane, everyone realized it really wasn’t a great way to, you know, run a library. Grandpa actually started collecting books to try and get them away from this place. No one really knows what goes on in there, but as far as I know it’s still maintained even though no one uses it. The kingdom stopped staffing the lobby but they could never just shut it down because anyone who tried, well-”

“Went missing or insane. Sounds cool, I’m in.”

“You sure?”

“Dude, you brought me to a wicked hell maze filled with psychotic demon nerds. Maybe there’ll be bottomless pits or a wicked dungeon boss. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re flirting with me, Mr. Lucitor,” she purred, running a finger up his chest and flicking his nose.

“Haha, very funny. And it’s Prince Lucitor,” he sarcastically chided, poking her arm in response before crossing the room with her following, but he couldn’t help but hide that he was flustered. Seeing Star and Marco’s relationship in the past year had reinforced his already-firm convictions about romance: he wanted someone with whom he could be life partners in all ways, not just handholding and rooftop picnics. Otherwise, what would be the point? He’d made that mistake enough times, and even just a light jab at the notion of him casually flirting struck made him feel self-conscious about that past. Finally his reflection was halted when he found what he sought: a large wrought iron door furnished with ornate demonic symbols and various carvings of mythological creatures dwarfed them both. With a soft, steady flame for light, he brought his hand up and ran it over the rusty engravings. He jumped back with a gasp as the fire spread into the lines of the door, lighting up the patterns on it and causing it to creak as it slowly opened.

“Nice,” Janna muttered in awe before strolling inside, with Tom hesitantly following. She was the most eager of their little group to dive headfirst into the unknown, even more than Star most of the time, but he trusted her gut.

They started walking down the long, cramped hallways, hearing only the sound of their own footsteps on the cold floor. Janna peeked her head into a small doorway that appeared to their left, earning herself an explosive blast to the face and getting knocked onto her butt. Tom slammed the door shut and leaned in to read an inscription next to it. “Incinerator for any books too damaged or damaging for further use. Probably not the right place.”

Janna huffed, brushing herself off and finding scraps of paper among the char. “I can see that. Seriously, what kind of labyrinth labels its doors?”

“Maybe one run by book nerds,” Tom offered, gripping her hand to help her up.

“So it’s just as bad at being a labyrinth as it is a library. Neat. Great adventure.”

Tom pressed on, keeping his focus ahead of them. “Hey, I’m just here to help my mom. You’re the one that said you were fine with anything.”

“Fine, fine. Just saying, I could be working on my potions or something.” She pulled a glass bottle full of purple liquid from her skirt pocket and casually tossed it at a wall. Janna snickered at Tom’s yelp when it shattered, but found herself joining him in backing away when a chunk of stone quickly deteriorated and slammed into the ground at incredible speed. She went over and carefully kicked a pebble, finding it impossible to even budge. “See, this was just a stupid pro-gravity potion. Worthless.”

He leaned against the stable wall opposite the hole, sighing. “I’m sure there has to be something interesting here. What if we, I dunno, make it a competition or something?” His frustration with both the situation and Janna were there, yes, but he still wanted to try and get something fun out of the day.

“Go on,” Janna said, eyes flickering up from the bottle that she was tossing between her hands nonchalantly.

OK, maybe he should have thought further ahead. His arms flailed as he scrambled to come up with an idea. “OK, so, uh, whoever finds the weirdest thing in this place in the next hour wins. Just call them out if you think you found something. Or whoever finds the book, whichever comes first, yeah. Mom still needs it.”

“Momma’s boy. I respect that. You’re on, Tom.” Janna cocked an eyebrow, staring at him for a second before pushing off the wall into a sprint, opening the first door she could find. “Empty. Another empty. Three empties, dammit.”

Tom used his flight to travel more smoothly from door to door on his side of the corridor, but still found himself losing ground as he took the time to read the sign posted by each threshold. The ‘Demonic Studies’ room had a very ornately ghoulish aesthetic, with macabre skeletal models throughout. Definitely something to show Janna on the way out just for the aesthetic, and it’d have been weird for most humans, but it wasn’t any more abnormal than what the two of them were used to as a daily routine. Another room for astronomy had an exquisite planetarium dome, but it turned out to be rather useless as the Underworld did not, in fact, contain any stars since it was underground. There was, however, a plentiful selection of guides to stalactites stocked on the shelves. The next four whole sections were devoted to anger management self-help books, which only made him waste precious seconds cringing at old memories.

His pace picked up as he kept going from door to door finding nothing but normal library fare, although he had to admit it was certainly well-maintained. On any other day he might actually enjoy some of the things here, but today he was on a mission to get out of here so they could actually have fun elsewhere.

‘Bookworms’... now that had potential. What sorts of hybrid creatures could lurk behind the inches of wood? “I think I might have found something!” he shouted, throwing open the door only to receive a harsh shushing. Within were only elderly demons in cozy sweaters reading by candlelight, all now glaring at him with an intensity that reminded him of his mom’s own rare reprimands. “Never mind,” he loud-whispered back out into the hall as he gently closed the door and found Janna in a nearby corridor. “Ugh, why is there nothing interesting here?” Sparks trailed behind him from his mounting anger as he paced.

“Tell me about it, even ‘Wormbooks’ was just a bunch of regular novels, somehow,” she sighed. “I was hoping for a big long chain of open books slithering around on the ground, now there’s a party.” She slumped down against the wall next to the streak of flame he’d left on the ground, idly stamping it out with her boot until Tom sat down beside her.

“Wouldn’t a wormbook be the opposite? A big fat worm in the shape of a book?”

“Nah, it’d totally be a book made of a bunch of little flatworms all working together, duh. Still pretty lame.”

OK, now he knew something was up with her. “Janna, is- is something wrong?”

Her body slouched further down until she was almost horizontal on the cold floor, staring ahead of her like a zombie. “Being weird has just felt so pointless lately. Everything’s weird now, all the time! I’m wasting all my time trying to brew potions when there’s a shop that sells them on every corner. I got so bored that I even passed that same dumb test Marco did and now I’m done with high school, like, for real this time.”

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself, that’s pretty impressive.”

“It’s easy if you know who to blackmail.” Tom blinked a few times, not sure why he’d expected anything different. “Everyone else is moving on with their lives, but I’m still feeding the same old possums and picking up the same old tennis balls. The whole point of my routine is that it’s different, it’s me, it’s my Jannanigans or whatever Star calls it, but it’s just not the same. I’m still into all that stuff, and Earthni’s actually really cool, but… ugh.” With that, her head fully sunk to the ground.

Tom brought his palms together over her head, opening and shutting his hands while wiggling his fingers around. “It’s a wormbook,” he said hesitantly, not really sure what he was doing. It was silly amusement, but perhaps that was just what she needed right now. Janna frowned and rolled her eyes, so he snapped at her arm with his hand puppet wormbook a few times.

“Alright, I get it,” she barked out, but her sullen demeanor slowly cracked under the onslaught of frivolity as she sat back up with an unusually ponderous look at him.

“Remember that time you took me bootsledding?” She nodded. “You told me that I needed to find a life outside of Star, and- and it was really great advice. Didn’t mean I still couldn’t like spending time with Star or anything, heck, I still do! But I just needed to get out of that rut of depending on it. Maybe you just need to do that, too. If doing your weirdness by yourself is normal, then adding something normal might be kinda weird.”

“That’s it.” Janna leapt to her feet, looking very suddenly invigorated. “That’s it!”

“Well, uh, glad you liked it. It was nothing, really, just trying to be a good pal-”

“Yeah, yeah, that too,” she waved dismissively, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit scorned. “If weird is normal then normal is weird. We were looking for the craziest things we could find here, but everything that should have been weird was normal, so we should be looking for the most painfully boring room here!” All three of Tom’s eyes blinked a few times as her words sunk in. Could it be…? “Tom, over here!” He hustled over to a particularly plain wooden door. Janna pointed at the plaque on the wall, which was far more faded than the others had been. “Look. ‘Government Records’.”

A burst of energy coursed through Tom’s blood, sparking life in him once more, and he could see the same reflected in Janna’s determined brown eyes. “And the book Mom wanted has something to do with history. Maybe it’s political history! Janna, you might be a genius!”

“Pfft, ‘might’. Now we just gotta…” She grabbed his arm, aiming it at the door, and he looked at her incredulously. “C’mon, dude, who knows what’s behind there. We’re gonna bust in with a demon blast, duh. Pew-pew!”

He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his lip turning up in a begrudging smile gave away his agreement. The pair aimed at the door and blew it off its hinges before charging in through the smoke.

“I see you two have finally solved the grand riddle of the Librarinth!” A deep, booming voice greeted them from the smoke. “Janna Ordonia, Thomas Lucitor, you certainly took your time. I expected you to book it here much more quickly. No matter, for this room shall be your tome!”

“How do you know my-” Janna stammered.

“Uh, don’t you mean tomb-” Tom started at the same time before realizing the wordplay and groaning in misery. Wait a second… Epic threats, an obvious personality quirk…

“Dungeon boss!” the teens cheered together, glancing back and forth between each other and the remainder of the room in front of them obscured by shadow.

“It is I, the bookkeeper of this place. I guard the most sacred treasure of all… knowledge!” Paper rustled loudly, echoed throughout the cavernous space, far taller and wider than Tom had noticed when they first entered with a massive array of bookshelves many times taller than him in a single row near the back wall. The ground beneath them began to shake and Tom tossed a puff of light in front of him, exposing the wide chasm that had just opened up in the ground, swallowing all the shelving in the room. Neither were prepared for the sight that greeted them: a coiled mass unfurled from the abyss and slithering with purpose along the ground, finally raising itself up to stand at fifteen feet tall, swaying back and forth with enough force to create an artificial wind within the space. A closer look showed that the body was made of some peculiar segments of… books, of all shapes and sizes. The volume at the top of the chain was much larger and far more ornately embossed than the others, and on the blood red surface of the cover Tom could make out a set of eyes. As the picture became more and more clear, he could finally see what they were up against. Now THIS is a bookworm.

“Aren’t libraries supposed to be, like, public and free?” Janna blithely inquired.

“You are correct, child, but perhaps try reporting that to your friend there! The Lucitor family is the sworn enemy of this great Librarinth! That fiend Relicor pilfered our collection for his own use for millennia, and the rest tried to shut this place down for good. But worst of all, in the most egregious display of contempt I have witnessed since the dawn of writing itself… Prince Lucitor and his ilk have amassed twenty-six dollars in unpaid fees!”

The tension in the room nearly evaporated in a heartbeat as Tom and Janna paused momentarily before bursting out into raucous laughter.

“Seriously, dude? I could just, like, repay it.” He fumbled in his pockets for his wallet for a moment before being interrupted once more.

“Do not condescend to me, children! It is far too late to make up for these sins with mere currency. Revenge is my fee most overdue, now prepare to meet… Overdoom! I shall harness the power of the written word to spell your demise!”

Books were hurled from the depths of the crevice en masse. Tom stepped in front of Janna to blast them away, but they had taken on a life of their own and homed in on him, covers flapping in the air like wings. Behind Tom, Janna snatched one out of the air to thwart a flank attack. She grabbed his left arm and pointed it up, tapping his elbow frantically. He spared a glance and saw the paper tornado coalescing, and understood her intention. Demon flames surged out of both hands with Janna calling the shots for the left side and Tom focusing on his right. They used the opportunity to back up to a wall, letting them cover every attack vector but creating a stalemate they were sure to lose in time as the seemingly endless offense droned on. Overdoom for the time being simply floated out of the abyss, glaring harshly at them as more and more papers kept emerging.

“Wait, Tom, look…” Still using his hand, she pointed to a shelf that had fallen at an odd angle and hadn’t collapsed into the abyss. There was a large, torn-up poster on which he could barely make out the word “Historia”.

“That might be it,” he breathed out, starting to feel the burn from minutes of nonstop vigilant defensive demon blasts. Oddly, none of the books in that corner were joining the assault. Almost as if...

“It’s making them magical in the chasm.” Tom’s heart leapt up in his chest at the revelation, hope and adrenaline mixing in his veins to keep him fully alert. But charging in was a suicide mission and they clearly couldn’t win on raw firepower.

“Have you had enough? Are you children yet ready to come scrawling on your hands and knees to a-tome for the sins of your forefathers?” the imposing figure growled, bristling impatiently.

“Did it seriously just use the tome pun again?” Janna griped, running her hands past her eyes and down her cheeks in disgust. “For a word nerd, that’s just awful.”

“Yeah…” Tom absent-mindedly responded. He knew she was right, though. Book, tome, scrawl… even if the creature’s summoning powers were off the charts, and it wielded them with calculated ease, its cocky wordplay taunts left something to be desired. It struck him then: what if they’d been approaching this all wrong? If the battle couldn’t be won by blows, then they had to find another option, and Tom was ready to put his plan into action.

He quickly shook off Janna’s rather tight grip on his arm and stepped forward, mustering up a confident expression masking any fears he still had left. “Nice try, Overdoom. Your words aren’t scaring us. Learn to read the room!”

Its “body” immediately began wiggling violently in the air as it crawled a bit forward towards them. Tom paid careful attention to its back end, which had climbed a few feet out of the ground in the move. “How dare you! Petulant brats!” Literary fire and brimstone rained down upon them with more fury than ever, and the two backed up into a corner which was the best they could do in a room largely devoid of any cover.

“What the hell-” Janna whispered through gritted teeth. Tom wriggled his tail out and waved it in front of Janna’s face momentarily. “Now is not the time to-” She was cut off when a barrage of index cards launched at them with enough force to somehow chip the stone behind them on impact. Tom forcefully nodded his head towards the worm’s tail, waggling his own once again. Her eyes lit up much like his had and she nodded in understanding.

“Come on, is that the best you got? I’ve heard them all before, at least give us something novel!”

Janna stood beside him, and her grimace even managed to spook Tom a bit. “I’d alphabet you couldn’t do better even if you tried!” Not what he would’ve gone with, but hey, if it helped tick Overdoom off then who was he to say no?

“You can talk up a storm all you want, but no matter what volume of air you blow, all I feel is a not-so-rough draft!”

“ENOUGH!” Overdoom’s tail launched out of the chasm faster than either could follow, crossing the room in a heartbeat. Tom shoved Janna out of the way before it wrapped itself around him, dragging him much more slowly towards the abyss. His jacket and jeans mercifully protected the paper edges pressing into him, but it was still a painfully tight squeeze that left him gasping for air. His arms were uselessly pinned inside the embrace as he was dragged headfirst, but their hypothesis had been proven correct as all the books around them had dropped to the ground lifeless.

“Tom!” Janna called out. He strained his head to see she’d removed her beanie and had something purple in her hand that she lobbed at that moment. Through the haze of pain he recognized it as another of her potions. The arc was due to miss until he summoned his energy reserves and redirected it with a weak burst of flame from his boot. Though the glass was durable enough to not melt or shatter, the demonic heat changed the potion into a bubbling olive green milliseconds before it contacted a random segment of the behemoth they were fighting. All at once, its hold on Tom and the rest of its body went limp as it began floating lazily into the air before bouncing off the ceiling a few times like a balloon. Janna ran over and helped Tom up as Overdoom screamed inarticulately from many feet above. They traversed the chaotic mess towards the pile they’d spotted previous. After some digging around, he found ‘Historia Homewnum’ miraculously unscathed and protected by a large, sturdy slab of mahogany that had fallen flat on top of it. “I got it!”

“Cool, potion is wearing off. We need to go.” Janna calmly stated. Twin jets of fire erupted from his feet as he swiftly passed the book to Janna and scooped her up in his arms, carrying them across the room towards the door. After setting Janna down, he hesitated for a moment as she stood in the doorway.

“Do you think I should still pay the late fee? I feel kinda bad and-”

“TODAY MAY HAVE BEEN YOUR VICTORY, BUT TOME-ORROW WILL-”

Tom sighed in resignation with a very unimpressed expression. “OK, yeah, never mind.” And with a quick slam of the door, they were both out scot-free. They didn’t stop running until they arrived back at the elevator. Once inside, they slumped down onto the ground as they began the journey back up to the main surface of the Underworld.

“Woo!” Tom was caught off guard by Janna expressing visible joy, and it was immediately infectious. “Now that’s an adventure. Of course, demon fire is what makes the potions work. Makes a lot more sense. Stupid ink smudge, I burned all those lemons for nothing.” He belly laughed, falling over to the floor and clutching his gut as Janna kicked him in the arm.

“Sorry, sorry, couldn’t help it.”

Her foot backed off after one last good hit. “So now you just have to give that book to your mom?”

“Yeah, should only take a minute. Want to come with?”

“Dude, she’s half a story tall and cries lava. I’d be honored. Oh crud, Pony’s current stream title is ‘WHY Y’ALL CARE MORE ABOUT EARTH TURD AND B-FLY THAN ME?!?!’” Janna showed him the notification on her phone. “That can’t be good.”

Tom pulled out his phone and called to see what was up. Pony picked up after only one ring and didn’t even bother with a greeting as she screamed so loudly that he lost hearing for a moment in his right ear. Her voice carried through the elevator car even without being put on speakerphone. “Yo Tom, why do all my Pony Pals just want to watch those two idiots kiss and cuddle? What is up with that? I even gave my fanbase a stupid nickname, they eat that stuff up, so why won’t they looooove meeeeee?” Business as usual with Pony, it seemed. “An-y-way, this whole shopping spree was amaaaazing, I am all kinds of extra fabulous now. B-Fly and Earth Turd took over the stream cuz the viewers, like, wanted a Q&A sesh but I’m only giving them twenty minutes! Hmph!”

“Might as well just make a whole show about them,” Janna chimed in, rolling her eyes a few times for good measure.

“Wait, demon boy, is Janna there? What the heck have you two been getting up to? Don’t tell me you too are getting your freak on too, I could not handle that T.M.I.-”

Yeah, there was nothing more to gain from that conversation. Tom flipped his compact shut, disconnecting the call. Wait, ‘too’? Did she mean- he shuddered involuntarily. You know what, nope, just not going to think about that one.

“So glad I turned off the cameras,” Janna mumbled, curling up into a ball on the floor, clearly not wanting to touch that whole situation either.

He opted to make contact with the other group via Marco instead - why he hadn’t just done that in the first place, he’d never know - and sent a quick text. “Marco wants to get dinner at the Waterfolk Kingdom in, like, an hour and a half. Apparently Star found some earrings she wanted at the last minute, and Pony got arrested for shoplifting three seconds after I hung up.”

Janna cackled in response. “Let’s just meet them there. My jacket got ripped to shreds by the possums last week, might as well get a new one while I’m down here. Been thinking about changing it up. I kinda like that style.” She lifted up his arm and poked at a button on the sleeve of his own.

“Uh, yeah, sure, I can show you where I got it.” He stumbled over his words, still caught off guard by this new normal-person-Janna. The elevator dinged and the teens began their trek through the Lucitor castle in search of the queen. “So, the Librarinth... we’re definitely going back there at some point, right?”

“Totally, bet’s still not over. We should do this more often, you’re not so bad a friend.”

“You too, and yeah, we should.” Looking back on the day, it had honestly been one some of the most fun he’d had in a while, despite almost dying at least once. Tom still wasn’t sure what to make of this friendship brewing between them, but if it meant more days like this to look forward to? Maybe he could get used to that.

[ahornedgod]

got drabble - (it’s us) against the world ii

@softvoicesdie said: Hi could you please do "let me help you"?

here you go, and sorry hun, but i can’t seem to be able to tag you :/

a/n: the thrilling sequel to this. lol. no but srsly, this is the second of god knows how many parts. canon compliant! when it suits me. also follows logic when it suits me :D spoilers up until ep6.

still taking prompts :)

in which meetings are had, amends are made; the King in the North names his Heir and the Starks bond.

part i

ii.

An unfamiliar, high-pitched giggle wakes him.

And the feel of a snout nudging his face, before slobbering all over him, makes him open his eyes – to glare half-heartedly at Ghost. Then, he takes notice of a few extra things; there are furs covering his resting form where there had been none last he remembers, he’s also laying down – and he’s alone.

“He is so very sweet, m'lady.”

“He is. A rare occurrence nowadays.”

Jon frowns slightly, propping himself up on his elbows, looks over his shoulder to the doorway to Sansa’s bedchambers. He wonders who the man in question is, who is so very sweet that even Sansa has to agree.

Ghost, clearly tiring of being ignored, leaps onto him, or tries to as his massive body doesn’t fit on the settee, forcing Jon to lay flat against the cushions again. Despite his grunt of pain—his wounds have yet to heal completely—he smiles as Ghost shuffles a little and starts butting heads with him.

Because that’s his thing – their thing. Ever since he was a pup, Ghost would climb onto his chest and bump their heads together to demand attention.

“I missed you, boy,” he grins. “I hear you took good care of Sansa, I’m proud.”

Ghost huffs and licks his face enthusiastically.

While the prospect of staying in Sansa’s solar for the rest of the day—for as long as he possibly can—Jon knows there’s a lot to do now. Especially now. Sansa must have informed their bannermen of his arrival, if they hadn’t been there to see him being dragged into Winterfell, injured and barely conscious; surely they would want to see him.

And demand answers from me, he thinks. Answers I own them, after all these months. Arya had been quick to tell him of the Lords’ discomfort with his prolonged absence. He understands, of course, they hadn’t been happy with his initial decision to begin with.

“Is he courting anyone, m'lady?”

“I do not know, Milly.”

“Would you ask your Lady Knight for me?”

That catches his attention rather quick; Jon sits up, ignoring Ghost’s soft whine as his paws slides down to his lap, and twists around in time to see Sansa and her handmaid step back into the solar.

Sansa smiles upon seeing him, sending his heart clattering against his ribs at an alarming rate, not so her handmaid. Milly looks completely shocked by his presence in her Lady’s chambers, he can tell, but still recovers quickly enough. However not quickly enough to miss the curious look she sends Sansa.

She performs a clumsy curtsy, and bows her head. “Your Grace.”

“Could you call for a warm bath to be prepared for His Grace, Milly?”

The girl, no older than five-and-ten, smiles brightly at Sansa. “Yes, m'lady, right away.”

Jon waits until they are alone talk, until the wooden doors are firmly shut. “Is it safe to assume that it is well past morning?”

“Very,” she says, her smile diming a little; Sansa moves to her desk, motioning for him to follow – gladly, he thinks, he would follow her gladly anywhere. “Let’s eat now; we’ve a long and tedious day ahead.”

He sigh, willing the frustration away and sits himself next to her. “Endless council meetings?”

“And endless damage control to do as well. The Northern Lords are not… happy,” she pauses, to gauge his reaction certainly. “They are more at ease now that you’re here, but—”

Her sentence halts once she’s realized the last word to part from her lips; he grins and Sansa gives him a rueful smile in return. Somehow, after his little history lesson on what their—father did or said away from his daughter’s ears, it’s become a recurring thing between them leading up the weeks before his departure to Dragonstone.

The word slips; they stop and they grin, and then proceed.

“Jon,” her smile disappears. “The Northern Lords also… they offered to make me Queen. In fact that incident was what propelled the… argument with Arya.”

Sansa starts eating then, intent on avoiding his gaze and any kind of talking by taking slightly bigger bites of food than she would usually do. Jon follows her example, for a while, though he takes the time to savour the food. Months – it’s been months of trying to navigate the intricacies of Southron politics and mining the dragonglass, months of eating food that’d been either too much or not enough.

There’s no venison like the one cooked in the North, he thinks.

Jon lets a few more minutes pass in silence before grabbing her hand. She freezes, giving him a startled look before relaxing.

He speaks only when they’re both focused on each other. “Are you still angry with me?”

“Oh?”

“About the wight hunt.”

She frowns, straightens her back and—ah, yes, she’s still angry—her expression becomes frosty. “Try furious.”

He cringes.

Though it does not last, Sansa sighs and her demeanour softens again. “Jon,” she begins. “What… Why would you do something like that? What madness possessed you to go beyond The Wall, to catch one of those things?”

How to explain it? Jon does not know. How to explain that from the very moment they were asked to hand over their weapons he’d realized he would not leave that place without giving into demands that might cost him everything he’s been fighting for? How to explain that after a first disastrous meeting, he became a prisoner in all but name? That he was given leave to mine and send the dragonglass North only because Daenerys Targaryen thought it to be useless to her?

(And Jon wonders if shipments will keep coming, now that he’s here, in Winterfell.)

Oh, he is absolutely certain Sansa had garnered quite a bit out of his scarce letters. She’d made no allusions to it in her replies, though.

Because she knew, he thinks, she knew there was a very high possibility of their letters being intercepted. She told me that, and she was right.

How can he explain he leaped at the possibility to get solid proof of the real danger not only to finally convince the Southron Queens, but because it provided him with means to leave Dragonstone?

Sansa – she had been just as doubtful of his claims as the Queens in the South the first time he spoke of them. She had looked at him that night after the Northern Lords placed a crown on his head, sitting in this solar, as he told her of what he had seen, of what he had been trying to escape from - what he had hoped to keep her away from. She had listened and she had considered his words, and Jon had known, she had not believed him then, but she had nodded and said:

“I trust you.”

It’s obvious she believes him now; obvious she’s believed him for a while, considering the brilliant job she has done in his absence.

So, yes, it is hard to explain what madness came over him to agree to such foolishness, to offer his assistance actually; but he had agreed and sheer luck—no, not sheer luck. Perhaps, luck played a part, to have had so few casualties, but it’s Sansa the one who had saved him, and the group of men he literally lead to their deaths, once again.

The shift of her hand as it turns and twines their fingers together snaps him back to reality. Jon locks his gaze on hers; dares not to look at their hands and call attention to them, for he knows not if Sansa is even aware of what she’s done.

She cannot be, he reasons. She cannot mean anything beyond—she doesn’t know, Bran said…

He wonders, then, what to do. He wonders how much longer he will be able to avoid taking that one step that will send him tumbling down the proverbial hill. How much longer he can resist stepping over the line that’s become a blurry mess at their feet. Only for him; Sansa, she looks at him and she sees a brother – she know not about lines separating them because for her there’s no need for those lines.

Her affections have not strayed to—the forbidden.

(But is it forbidden, now?)

I am her brother, and only her brother.

He’s fought so hard to maintain the fragile balance he’d achieved—between keeping a respectful distance and still give her the brotherly affection she needed—after acknowledging the true nature of his own feelings. So very hard. Those last weeks leading up to his departure for Dragonstone had been the hardest to his frayed nerves.

Where Jon had found himself parroting one word repeatedly at any chance given: sister.

Always sister. At one point, it became almost a mantra, until he found himself answering back one evening, as he sat alone in front of the fire in his own chambers: one more time and I’ll believe you.

He’d stopped repeating it to himself in silence, but did not stop calling her that out loud – he had needed the reminder.

“You are my sister, but…”

The journey to Dragonstone became imperative in more than one way, then.

He had thought, distance would do; it would suffice, it would help him clear his head. People always say that absence makes the heart grow fonder; his heart needed not grow fonder—Jon doesn’t think it can possibly grow any fonder—he only needed to get it back onto the right path of fondness, the right kind.

A folly on his part – distance has made everything worse (there is Littlefinger and how much he’d wanted to squeeze the life out of him; Tyrion and how he failed to reign in his sharp reply; Theon—Theon whose live he’d forgiven because Sansa had asked it of him).

The raven announcing Bran’s and Arya’s return to Winterfell had been his undoing, because the overwhelming relief that blanketed him only served to make the contrast between his affection for his siblings all the more sharp.

And now, he thinks, now he is back in Winterfell. Now he knows, and the sickening feeling that had long settled in his gut lessened a little more with each passing second. He knows and he’s given himself just enough time to enjoy the thought, the what if, before he wrapped up this new revelation. He can’t focus on it now, still doesn’t quite know how to react to it; there are more pressing matters to attend, so he won’t react just yet.

Jon gives her hand a firm squeeze before retreating and resting his elbows on the table.

(He is just her brother.)

“It was a chance to leave Dragonstone, Sansa,” he says at last, her name almost a prayer on his lips. “And I took it.”

“But whose idea was it to go on this… expedition?”

“Tyrion’s. Said it was the only way to convince Cersei.”

Sansa holds a breath for a few seconds before letting it go slowly, and pins him with a look that makes him feel incredibly dim-witted. “Did Cersei agree to meet you all at Eastwatch? Is that how you were going to show her?”

“Er… No,” he pauses, resisting the urge to squirm in his seat like a nervous child; suddenly, the hastily formed plan sounds very idiotic. “There was supposed to be a gathering in King’s Landing, the Dragon Pit.”

“Does Tyrion honestly expect Cersei to do nothing dangerous once she has you all in one place? Do you?”

“The thought did occur to me, but—”

“Jon.”

“I’m sorry!”

She pinches the bridge of her nose and, Jon swears, no one should be allowed to look so—Sansa huffs, most unlady-like, and shoots him an exasperated glance. “Let’s finish our food,” she says, “we have a meeting with our bannermen soon.”

But he doesn’t start eating again right away. “Sansa?”

“Yes?”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” he says, smiling and willing her to see his sincerity. “You should have accepted their offer to become their Queen… our Queen. You already make a much better ruler than I. Perhaps I should abdicate today and—”

“No, Jon—no,” she doesn’t let him talk at all after; grabs his hands tightly in her own. “No. I’ve told you, haven’t I? Jon, you are good at ruling. You are a good King. You are.”

“No ‘but’ this time?” he asks, a reference to the last time they broached this subject.

Her smile comes gently. “No ‘but’ this time.”

(Even if she’s stopped being just his sister a long while ago.)

*

The meeting with their bannermen is both enlightening and as tedious as he’d thought it would be. It goes smoothly, for the most part, because he has the foresight to talk things over with Sansa before convening the Northern Lords.

“We can’t afford clashing in front of them now,” he’d said to her, “better to resolve our differences in private and present a united front to our people.”

Something he should’ve done long before now. Aye, her pleased smile might’ve been more than he could have handled back then as well as the sweetest reward.

His journey to Dragonstone is addressed; he listens to their complaints and gives them the assurances they want to hear. Jon gives them more than that.

He even acknowledges their desire to crown Sansa as Queen in the North; though he takes notice of some disgruntled expressions—most likely at his addressing what they might now consider an act of treason—Jon doesn’t let that stop him nor does he call out those who had spoken against him in his absence.

“I rode South, my Lords, despite your warnings and misgivings,” he says, “despite Lady Sansa’s insistence of a possible trap; despite everyone’s better judgement. It was a mistake and for that I apologize.”

He stands behind the head table; next to him, Sansa smiles encouragingly at him – in front of them, the Northern Lords and Ladies murmur their agreement.

Lyanna Mormont stands; the girl who, according to Sansa’s assessment, jokingly or not, is his staunchest supporter, and sometimes the most levelheaded of the lot. He nods his head at her.

“Your Grace, we are aware of the circumstances that forced your hand and made you decide to head for Dragonstone,” she begins, pauses long enough for the others to agree with her chosen words. “As it stands, and considering what is marching towards us, I would say it was a necessary mistake. As it, at least, provided us with this dragonglass you’ve said will help us on this upcoming war.”

“Aye,” says Lord Glover; he’d come to him to apologize personally before the meeting, as had Lord Royce, and Jon had accepted their words. “Aye, but we cannot afford to let those kinds of mistakes endanger your life again, Your Grace. We need our King to lead us now, more than ever.”

It had been a genius move on Sansa’s part, to assemble the rescue part with knights and soldiers of all those Houses pledged to him—pledged to them.

Because now that they are back, all those who survived have not stopped talking about the horrors they’ve seen beyond The Wall. Those who survived and were ordered to bring back their King to Winterfell post-haste, the rest of them were to travel at a more sedate pace; Ser Davos and the men he’d lead beyond The Wall being part of that group.

Now, there is not a soul within this very hall that doubted the legitimacy of Jon’s warnings. They know the real enemy to be further north.

Jon nods; here comes the hard part, announcing the one decision Sansa did not want to agree to. “It is because of this; because you all know I will not be staying behind the walls of Winterfell when the fight comes, that I have decided to name Lady Sansa as my Heir.”

The silence is deafening, as he expected; as he also expected, the explosion comes from Sansa herself instead of the Lords.

“Jon!”

And it is all he lets her say, turning to her quickly and giving her a meaningful look, one that manages to stall her protests.

“I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again,” he begins, “Sansa, you did a brilliant job ruling Winterfell and the North in my absence. You’ve kept our people focused on preparing for the upcoming winter, and the war with the White Walkers. You’ve given them purpose and you’ve given them hope and no one here can say you don’t deserve it.”

A pause, for emphasis.

“Should anything befall me, I want you to rule in my stead; be the Queen in the North.”

*

The one decision since being crowned as King in the North; the one all the Lords and Ladies have accepted.

And Sansa fights him over it.

“Let me help you,” she’d said, right before the hall began to fill with their bannermen. “Jon, let me help you. You need to focus on preparing for war, on preparing our men for the battles to come. Let me take care of the rest.”

She’d said she would take care of the little things; the household and the distribution of their supplies and the meetings with the smallfolk and the influx of refugees. That she’d make sure their people are properly clothed once the real cold begins to set in; and help him play the game. Those are not the little think, though; those are important things as well.

“I’ll let you help me,” he’d told her, after adjourning and before going their separates way, “handle the little things, so long as you don’t fight me on this. Sansa, I want you to be my Heir, and I’m not going to change my mind.”

“That is your decision, and your decision is final?”

“Yes.”

“Sansa knows you are right.”

Distracted as he is, Jon doesn’t realize he’s meandered into the Godswood until now. Bran’s voice makes him jump and spin on his heels, to find him sitting on what he has learned is his usual spot under the weirwood heart tree.

“Bran.”

His brother gives him as much of a smile as he can muster now, before tilting his head back. “She will come around, do not fret.”

Jon frowns, sitting next to him on one of the roots of the heart tree. “Is that… something you’ve seen?”

“No,” says Bran. “But I know Sansa; I know all of you, more than you can imagine.”

“She’s fighting this out of sheer stubbornness, isn’t she?”

“She is.”

Years ago, they might have laughed a little at that. Years ago, Bran would’ve grinned at him before trying to climb one of the trees surrounding them. Years ago… Jon doesn’t think he has stopped wishing for those times since reuniting with Sansa at Castle Black.

“Did Maester Wolkman give you the letter?”

His jaw clenches; Jon will never be comfortable knowing that Winterfell’s new Maester used to be part of the Dreadfort—the Bolton’s household. He tolerates it now because they need a Maester and because, at the very end of the day, the old man is not bad. However, Jon would rather be rid of him.

“Aye, I got the letter.”

Which is why this letter is a Gods’ sent.

Sam is riding North, apparently a Maester now, for that’s the sole reason Jon had let him go to Oldtown in the first place. His dearest friend is riding for Winterfell, set to arrive in a week’s time, to help him find a way to defeat the Night King.

Jon thinks he much prefers the idea of seeing Sam walking with Sansa around the Great Keep, if only for his peace of mind.

“Samwell Tarly…” the name hangs between them for a moment, before Bran looks at him again, eerily calm. “He knows not what happened to his father and brother.”

He takes a deep breath, forces himself to relax. Jon still has a hard time believing what he’s been told; but neither Sansa nor the bannermen had any reasons to lie. Now he questions all his interactions with Daenerys Targaryen; questions Tyrion’s insistence of her many accomplishments done for the good of people. Yes, he does believe she has a good heart, perhaps even has the best intentions in this campaign of hers.

But all of that means nothing if she goes about instilling fear in people via her dragons; it sure as all seven hells means nothing if she’s started burning noblemen for refusing to bend the knee. Missandei might say what she pleases; about having the choice to leave if she so desired it, because that is her and those that came with her Queen from Essos. Westerosi people seem to be held to another standard.

A standard that has them choosing between a life kneeling for a ruler they do not want, he thinks, or death. Gods, but I got lucky.

He wonders what would’ve happened if he had stayed longer, if he had refused more strongly to bend the knee. He wonders what would have been the last straw, and then he wonders no more.

We need to focus on the Night King now.

Still, knowing the woman everyone claims to be trustworthy and good lied to his face is not something easy to swallow. Makes him even more wary of her and her supposed good intentions and declarations of birthrights.

“Bran.”

“Yes.”

“You said… you said you could see everything that has happened, everything that is happening…” he pauses, looks at his brother – Jon tries not to look for a glimpse of Bran. “Can you see what… will happen?”

Bran blinks, tilts his head back again, and closes his eyes. “What has yet to happen… the future is not set on stone, Jon.”

The silence falls around them and Jon sighs; he lets his brother do his thing and takes the opportunity to think on the plans that need to be made in order to survive the coming storm.

Not much had been accomplished after his naming of his Heir. The Northern Lords and Ladies had brought up the—old—news from the Reach: the fate of the Tarlys, the soldiers, and the supplies. There had been a brief argument about what to do in the event of having the Dragon Queen turn her dragons on them—fight, they had said. They would fight, never again would the North kneel for another Southron ruler, not even at the threat of dragonfire.

Sansa had noted his stress then, had appealed to the good conscience of their bannermen to please excuse their King, for he had yet to fully recover from his injuries.

Jon does not wish to wage war against three dragons. He worries not about the Unsullied and the Dothraki; this far up North, they would not fare well in the cold. It’s the dragons that worried him; for how can he protect them—protect his family, Sansa, against three fire-breathing beasts.

It is the one thought that kept haunting him in Dragonstone, haunts him still. It seems not even the tranquillity of the Godswood can keep his worries at bay for long.

Arya chooses that moment to storm into the peace and quiet. A bundle of barely suppressed rage and energy, stalking over them as if ready to pounce and maim and hurt. She stops before them, hands clenched at her side, and glares. She glares and pants and he can see, it’s taking all her self-control not to snap and – it’s the flicker of heartbreak that throws him off.

For a second she looks so frighteningly similar to Lady Catelyn—the one time Jon had seen her so feral and broken, after Bran’s fall—Jon doesn’t know how to react, doesn’t know what prompted this reaction from his little sister.

“I didn’t know,” comes the strangled whisper.

Jon breathes in sharply; suddenly, and he understands. He stands up, goes to hugs her, but Arya steps back.

“Gods, Jon, I didn’t know,” she looks so distraught.

“But you do now.”

Bran’s voice, flat and unwavering, breaks through her despair. Though it ignites her rage once again and Jon goes to grab her shoulders just in case she reacts badly to that. Arya, his little sister, the one who’d been bright and wild and defiant but oh so happy – he knows that Arya would never deliberately hurt her siblings. But this Arya, dark and sarcastic and with an insatiable thirst for revenge, is such a big unknown that he needs to take precautions even though it pains him.

In a way, while he knows expecting his little siblings—cousins—to remain unchanged is unrealistic; yet Jon had not expected them to be so… different. Not the little ones; not Arya and Bran. Not this much.

He aches for those old times once again.

Time, I need to give it time. When Sansa came to Castle Black, we didn’t fall into our new relationship right away; it took time, it took months. This will be the same.

But he doesn’t have months now. He doesn’t actually know how much time he has.

“I thought you two would speak about it,” says Bran, “after Sansa found you on the crypts.”

“Yes, but…”

Arya closes her eyes shut, biting her lips, she tries to control her rage and her grief. It shocks him how he failed to notice it when she stormed here; because he’s been there, he’s felt that rage, that grief. Only, while Arya seems to have gotten the whole story in one go, Sansa had revealed it to him in bits and pieces along the months they’d spent traveling the North rallying their bannermen.

He has been right there, where his little sister is, so he know what really bothers her.

“They’re all dead,” he says, and knows Arya understands him. “Every single person that’s hurt her, that’s hurt our family, is dead.”

“Not all of them.”

There’s still the Queen who sits on the Iron Throne.

“Aye, not all of them.”

“But soon,” she says, takes a deep breath and tries to relax.

It will be a long time before she can manage that, he knows, but it’s a start. Jon wishes Arya would let go of her list, wishes he could hug her to his chest and promise to make it all better. Wishes he could ruffle Bran’s hair and see his brother smile. Mostly he wishes he could make all the horrors Sansa had suffered disappear.

Wishes have never done any good to their family.

“If you are quite done talking about me.”

Jon freezes on the spot at the sound of her voice, so does Arya; Bran turns his head to look at her as if expecting her. He and Arya follow his lead, turning to face Sansa as well. And really, they must look comical if she manages to roll her eyes in a most un-ladylike manner as she approaches.

It works, though, as Arya huffs and plops herself down next to Bran. Jon—he shifts where he stands until Sansa is within reach, and offers her his hand. Sansa smiles at him, and takes it; he leads her to the root branch he had previously occupied so she can sit.

“A raven has just arrived from Dragonstone,” says Sansa, handing him a scroll.

It’s sealed still, as it should be, though he wishes it weren’t. Hearing the contents of the letter might sound less dire if they came from her, he thinks. Good thing he’s decided to remain standing, he won’t be able to sit still after this, he’s sure.

“Well?” Arya says, motioning to the scroll. “Go ahead and open it.”

So he does, he reads it, and sighs. “Daenerys Targaryen is summoning me back to Dragonstone,” he states, resisting the urge to be snarky about the long list of titles that came before the thinly veiled command. “At my earliest convenience.”

Arya takes the scroll from him, looks it over and snorts. “Daenerys Targaryen can go hang.”

Shocking, it is, to see Sansa smirk at Arya’s words. “I have to agree with Arya,” she says. “Jon, you are not going back there.”

“You don’t have you tell me, but…”

“You don’t think she will give you a choice.”

“She isn’t giving him a choice,” says Arya, passing the scroll to Sansa, and then she smirks at him. “We won’t let her take you, Jon, don’t worry.”

Jon snorts. “It’s not like she will ride her dragons up here to kidnap me.”

“She might ride her dragons up here to declare war against us,” says Sansa, scanning the letter attentively.

“That is a possibility,” Bran’s words send chills down his spine. “The Northern Lords and Ladies are not going to change their minds, are they?”

“No, not even knowing the consequences,” Jon sighs, rubbing his face in exasperation. “I don’t think they realize what they’re saying.

“The Vale won’t kneel either,” Sansa looks at him, sombre. “Lord Royce is the new Lord Protector of the Vale, until Robin comes off age. He was clear when he said the Vale would not kneel for the Mad King’s daughter.”

“Perhaps they will change their mind once they see the dragons, but… Westeros hasn’t known a long period of peace since Aegon the Conqueror decided to take over the Seven Kingdoms. The most we’ve known of peace since being under Targaryen rule is a couple of decades, at most.”

“I can’t risk a war against three dragons, Arya,” Jon says, suddenly feeling exhausted. “I’ve seen them, I’ve seen their Mother; self-control is not a word you would associate with them.”

“But, Jon…”

“There’s no point in arguing among us about something that might never come to pass,” Sansa’s voice carries enough command to make them stop, but not enough to make them defensive and Jon smirks at her; she rolls her eyes. “First we must exhaust every other possibility to convince the Dragon Queen to aid us in the war against the White Walkers.”

“She will tell you what she told me; she’ll help when we bend the knee. I tried to convince her, Sansa, it did not work.”

“You’re not exactly well-versed in treating with Southron Queens,” she says, the hints of a smile tugging at her lips. “Let me handle her.”

“You plan on inviting her to come here,” says Bran, startling them all; it is so easy to forget he’s there now, considering how silent and still he is. “That might be for the best.”

“Let her come and see that marching her armies North will do her no good,” says Arya. “The nights are getting longer and the days colder; it’s only a matter of time, not even her dragons will withstand the cold then.”

Bran looks at them, all of them, and for a moment, his expression softens and then, Jon can almost swear he sees a glimpse of his brother. “Aye,” he says, softly. “The winters are hard, but the Starks will endure…”

“We always have,” Jon finishes in a whisper.

“Jon,” blue eyes pierce him with a look; all-knowing, all-seeing, “have you told them yet?”

The tilt of his head gives away whom he’s referring to; the girls look at Bran, curious, then turn to him.

“Told us what?” they say, surprisingly coordinated.

He has to turn away; Jon doesn’t want them to see his conflict. Last night, after Bran had revealed the truth about his parentage, ad been easy enough for him to push it aside in lieu of focusing on Sansa; this morning, now, he’s decided to deal with it once all pressing matter were settled. Though it seems, that no longer is an option.

“I haven’t…”

“What do you need to tell us?” Arya asks.

Jon swallows, turns around to face them, Arya looks worried, and so does Sansa, though the Lady of Winterfell manages to school her expression after a while. He wonders if she’ll manage after he’s told them; worries about their reaction.

“I remember what it felt like being Brandon Stark,” he had said, before he had grabbed his arm and looked so painfully like his little brother Bran. “This changes nothing, Jon, you’re still my brother.”

Will the girls be the same? Arya, most likely. His little sister would reassure him, he has no doubt. And Sansa – would she look him in the eye and call him brother as well? Would she call him cousin instead?

Do I want her to call me brother?

Jon sighs. “Not now, I…” he rubs his face. “I just need time to… understand.”

Time to find a way to understand without falling apart. The very foundation of his life, ripped from beneath his feet. The very thing that’s always made him proud, a lie. His whole damn life. He can’t process the hurt right now, can’t think about it without wanting to break—to scream and cry.

And amidst all, the thrumming of a glorious possibility—he loathes himself a little for even considering it glorious.

Sansa stands and closes the distance between them; takes his hand and smiles. “Take all the time you need.”

No, no I do not.

* *

part i-a (nsfw)

[bbangjaes]

omg writing this one gave me mad feels

i hope you like it, thanks for the request!

-mik

SF9 SCENARIO: Helping Their S/O Fall Asleep

Youngbin:

I feel like Bin-Bin would be v v v v caring as a boyfriend in general and, when you couldn’t sleep, he would do everything in his power to help you get rest bc he cared about you a lot (and he wouldn’t want to deal with a cranky gf the next day lmao). He would crawl into bed with you and wrap you up in his arms with your head against his chest. He would stroke your hair or rub your back to help you calm down and boy would you be #lovinit. I also feel lke he would be really warm ?????? so he’d feel like a human blanket and you would be oh so comfy and soft and in heaven so you’d fall asleep super easily in your little Youngbin cocoon (*screams* i feel like he is such cuddler and i love cuddling so much so i’m really struggling rn).

Inseong:

Though he is a crusty little shit, he’d be such a softie with you if you needed help falling asleep. I can totally see him cuddling you and *heaves* singing you to sleep. This actual soft angel boy would hold you all close and sing you some really pretty lullaby or song that would have you dozing off in no time at all (u might also cry bc holy shit this would be a moment). Once you fell asleep, he’d stop singing and carefully give you a lil kiss on your forehead bc 1) fuck yeah, forehead kisses and 2) he was high-key pumped that he succeeded in putting you to sleep with his smooth vocals (i also see him grinning really big to himself bc he’s also cocky af).

Jaeyoon:

Much like Inseong, I feel like our honey voice Jaeyoon would sing you to sleep. He would be very sad and worried about you if you couldn’t fall asleep and would quickly formulate a plan to get his beautiful baby some beauty rest (yo this boy would be on a mission). He would wrap you up in blankets and spoon you while he serenaded you with a v sweet love song (holy moly i am having so many feelings just imagining this lord help me). Oh my would you be so very comfy and relaxed and content with such a lovable boyfriend and would have no trouble at all falling asleep anymore.

I LOVE THIS GIF WHAT A LIFE-RUINING CUTIE

Dawon:

This boy is so damn loud that I wouldn’t be surprised if he was the cause your sleeplessness (like srsly when is he not screaming or yelling lmao i swear to god i love him tho). When it came down to it though, he would try his very best to help his lovebug get some sleep bc sleep is v important who doesn’t love sleep amiright ladies (yo fuck that, sleep is for the weak haha i’m so sleep-deprived rn help me). This honey bun would become a human pillow in order to maximize full comfiness capabilities. Or, in other words, would put on super soft clothes and let you rest your pretty little head on him while he held you close like his most prized possession (yeah yeah i know you’re not a possession/object blah blah i’m just trying to emphasize how much he treasures u damn it). But yeah he’d basically embody the spirit of all things comfy to help you fall asleep and that shit would work like a charm.

Zuho:

YOOOOOOOO ZUHO WOULD BE THE SOFTEST OF THE SOFT. I can see this sweetie being v calm and caring if you needed him to help you fall asleep. He would get into bed with you and wiggle under the covers so that he was super duper close to you bc personal space ???????? that shit is overrated. I imagine him talking to you extra sweetly while he adjusts his position to wrap you up in his long noodle arms and making sure that you are comfy (YALL IM FLASHING BACK TO THIS POST BC HIS VOICE WOULD BE SO SLEEPY IM WEAK). I feel it in my heart of hearts that Baek Juho would be just a complete and total sweetheart and would make you feel so loved and safe and thoroughly believe that it would be near impossible to have trouble falling asleep with this man holding you. Peace. End of story. *drops mic*

Rowoon:

THIS POOR MOM WOULD BE SO DISTRAUGHT IF YOU COULDN’T SLEEP. Seokwoo would be the embodiment of all things stressed tf out bc he would always be nagging you about getting enough sleep, eating nutritious food, taking good care of yourself, etc. He would try giving you a glass of warm milk or some shit like that to help you falll asleep but it wouldn’t work and he would be back to square one. When the frazzled mom ran out of options, he’d finally just cuddle you (i’m laughing so hard bc he would be so clueless and wouldn’t realize that cuddling is always the solution poor thing). Our giant man-baby would wrap you up in a little Rowoon burrito and you would be really really comfy and it would just be really great (well damn it now i’m hungry bc i wrote the word burrito).

Taeyang:

This boyfriend would be v v v v v v v soft and sweet if his boo couldn’t sleep. He would make sure that you had enough blankets and pillows and would ask if you wanted to sleep in a shirt of his or something illegally cute like that (i’m drowning in the feels bc he would be such a sweet lil bun). He would cuddle you and hum some pretty-sounding nonsense that would be oddly pleasing and soothing to help you relax. IDK WHY BUT I JUST IMAGINE HIM STROKING YOUR HAIR  AND LIKE PLAYING WITH IT BETWEEN HIS FINGERS AND SHIT (lms if u too like it when ppl play with ur hair bc i think it’s the best thing since sliced bread). Yo he’d be extremely soothing and so sweet that you would practically get a damn cavity and you would not struggle in the least to fall alseep thanks to your boyfriend Tae.

Hwiyoung:

Have no fear, Hwiyoung is here. This needy little cuddle monster would be more than ready to save the day and cuddle you into submission bc I honestly feel like this boy’s true calling is cuddling for some reason. He would be the cutest little puppy and would practically pounce on you bc he would want to get in bed with you A.S.A.P. He would snuggle you so close to him and would make sure that there was no part of you left untouched by his softness (ok that might sound a lil dirty but i promise that, for once, it was not intended that way lmao). Oh me oh my you would be in heaven bc Hwi is low-key a cuddle master and the true definition of cuddly (like seriously i imagine him being a complete cuddle god). Let’s just say that your sleeplessness would be no match for this boyfriend.

Chani:

I KNOW I SAY THAT THEY ARE ALL REALLY SOFT BOYFRIENDS N SHIT BUT I SWEAR TO GOD THAT CHANI IS HANDS-DOWN THE SOFTEST BOYFRIEND OF ALL. *takes a deep breath* Okay, I’m ready. I genuinely feel like Chani is the type to fall really hard for a girl and that you would mean the literal world to him if you were his girlfriend (idk why but i just see him being head-over-heels when he is in love with someone) so if you had any type of problem, he would try v hard to make you happy. If you couldn’t fall asleep, he would sort of just casually slip into bed with you and lay so that you two were face-to-face with your foreheads touching and the he’d look down like a shy little bean and talk to you about the weather or something random bc why the fuck not. I can also see him playing with your hands and doing that thing where you sort of rub your thumb around in a circle and it’s just really soothing and cute and UGH (yo i just imagine chani being super fascinated with hands i’m not really sure why). Ok this getting really long now but what the fuck did you expect from a Chani stan. But I just see you two giggling and chatting until you both fall asleep and your worries would just vanish and you would get some good ass sleep. THE END.

(yes wow look at that quality gif made by yours truly)

[smireyac]

yea boi u already kno what it issssss 🍾🎆🎉🍾🎆🎉

hey so i started writing this at 8 o’ clock so i would be ahead of the game and actually have more than an hour to write but HEY its already 20 after midnight so who the eff care amiright ladies

WOOOOO 🍾🍾🎆 🎉 🎆 🍾 🎉 🎉 🍾 🍾 🍾 🎆🎆 🎆 🎉 🎆 🎉🍾 🎉 🍾🎆 🎉

so.................... its 2019.....................

i watched vox’s “2018 in 5 minutes” video and cried so thats how this year has been :^) a lot of lows......... we always think we leave the shittiest year behind then lo.............. the next year rears its ugly head and we never learn............ despite this, im gonna try to keep a positive outlook on the new year......... its literally just another day and i have to be in at work @ 9 tmrw but its what ever im already super fucking tired whats losing another hour of sleep anywahy?? its practically expected of me any way what with being a youth,,, ANYWAY i spent my time ringing in the new year watching spiderman homecoming so i think that wa sGREAt its also great  that im gonna get to see spiderverse AGAIN tmrw after work so SUCK ON THAT im ringing in the new year RIGHT!! its a very spidey new year and i wouldnt have it any other way heh.....

alright

so its time.... to reflect...........

and actually reflect this time last year was weak sauce compared to the first year “im too unfocused right now happy new year or whatever” *scoffs* what r u too good for self reflecting now a days huhh

been doing a lot of self reflecting this year,,,,,, but today we will look back on how the previous years have gotten me to where i am today...

if 2016 was the year of change and 2017 was the year of getting used to things.............. 2018 felt like............ the year of getting TOO used to things, of not ENOUGH change............. like alright i scratched a few of the bigger things on my yearly “to do” list/resolutions, i. e. finally going back to school and getting a job at the library, but like.......... i definitly dont feel like i did enough........... my art game was SO WEAK and i feel like i wrote less than 10,000 words ALL YEAR (not counting my academic papers) i didnt really CREATE anything this i dont have ANYTHING significant to show for this year............and to get more negative i didnt even make any friends all year NONE FRIENDS im only *just* starting to get more friendly with people at the library thank GOD theyre nice and gave my shy ass a chance to open up but i still dont feel like ill make FRIEND friends theyre just work friends and u kno what thats making me so pissed bc its tricking my dumb ass into thinking i have a crush on someone at work aND that i want a *romantic* relationship with them!!! OUTRAGEOUS im so peeved.......................... i also still havent gotten behind a wheel but at this point im not sure if i will anytime soon bc im That Way..... grrrr im just mad thinking of all the things i didnt do so motherfucker i will make 2019 the year of DOING!!!! and i had so many resolutions last year i feel like the more i had the less i felt like i had to do them, like i was just saying all that to be like “oh wouldnt it be nice if any of these things happened lmao” so yeah 2019: the year of DOING... and since ive kinda sorta figured out that writing is my thang.... i think i wanna focus on doing that.. and anything that will help me do it

SO: #GOALS for 2K19

-WRITE AT LEAST 50.000 WORDS U COWARD, more than just “brainstorming” too bc thats like a cop out, write like stories or dialogue or scenes or scripts or WHATEVER just make it to 50,000 pls some people do that in like a month

-READ UR GOD DAMN BOOKS, u *cant* buy anymore if u dont read the ones u’ve already bought,,,, im willing to make an acception re: checking things out from the library................ but u rlly shouldnt IT WOULD’VE BEEN SO EASY TO WIN THE BET DUDE srsly..... maybe .... an hour b4 bed ? try to read ? at least try to read once a week dude....

-heres a curve ball WATCH MORE MOVIES !!! u say u love film well fuckin act like u do...... u only went to the movie theater 5 times all year and three of those were all in the last month to go see spiderverse, more than that HOW MANY movies are there on netflix that u see and go “oh i should watch that finally” or “people say thats rlly good bro” and u scroll right past to watch the same 3 fuckin movies i s2g

-oh yeah back to the writing thing, to reach that 50,000 goal u should write about what you read and watch, there u’ll prob meet the goal b4 summer if u do that bro but....u actually gotta do it....................

ok those r the 4 im REALLY gonna work on and try to keep track of in either of the journals sien got me :^) these next few i rlly want to happen but..... we’ll see

-make some friends pls.... pls be more friendly......... ENGAGE  people when u have the opportunity askQUESTIONS about them like if they have a dog or a hobbie jesus h christ

-go out..... on ur own..... do stuff............by urself if u have to... go to the movies by urself go to a park, walk around down town for the fuck of it idk DO STUFF

-finish something............ for once in ur miserable life...................................... finish the vlog or the scrapbook..... or the reading list or this set of goals PLEAsE ANYTHING

im not even gonna put draw/art blog related stuff on here bc........ its not what i want........ like i love drawing and i dont think im terrible at it, im at a good place with it but i dont wanna put my energy this year into drawing stuff for the sake of me being able to say “i did it” like...... last yr and the yr b4 i rlly RLLY wanted to get better at art to idk prove that i could?? but like i havent picked up my drawing tablet in months ... that makes me really sad but i dont really feel like picking it up either? ? i said i wanted to take a painting/color theory/ life drawing class maybe i will this yr and it’ll reinvigorate my love of drawing........ tbh spiderverse got me *this close* to being pumped about art and animation and like yeah i still am, i love the medium and its still a dream of mine to be apart of it but it feels like a pipe dream if i try to go thru the art angle........ so many people r better than me at that and its not really what i wanna do,,, i wanna CREATE STORIES and worlds and characters and like i used my art to help *me* develop those but... i dont wanna use my art to do it for someone else i guess............. the art of animation itself still facsinates me so they door isnt close yet but,,, i wanna focus on the other aspect of myself that im more and at the same time LESS confident about lmao WRITING like alright,,, i think im a good writer .... sorta ? like yeah people tell me i am and sometimes when i look back on things ive written im like “dAMN i wrote this ???” but like,,,, there are some things to writing that still. escape me... like poetry.... and a lot of other aspects to it that i cant describe write now bc it would take too long and im getting cold and tired SO YEAH hopefully this english class will help me, even tho its just writting for college essays, i need to start somewhere and if shes rlly as good of a professor as rate my professor says then ill learn smthg new

where was i

well the year wasnt ALL bad, like i said i got the job at the library i wanted and FINALLY got to go to school, stressful as that mightve been........ and i got to see my love, my darling, the light of my life rhys again for one glorious week,, hopefully ill be able to see more of my friends this year? either in miami or milwuakee idc which MAYBE BOTH lmao im not that rich but hey i can dream,,,

alright its 1:12am i think im ready to sign off,,,,,,,,, here’s to DOING in 2019

🥂 cheers

[forthelalaland]

No wasted seconds

I have two agendas for today… First,

Manila hits today with my love! 💖

Actually… Just Intramuros. Manila is really big, like really really big, I just realized it after 22 years of existence. Haha! Expect that there will be part two or three or four for this adventure. Yiee, I am so excited for it already!

I do not want to detail all that happened this Lala and Dada day because I am saving this Manila trip for my future post/s. So! All I want to say is… I love you! And thank you! *yiee very clingy so annoying af*

To tell you the truth, I am just so happy with what happened this day. First, he is not late. It was I. Hahaha! And he patiently waited. Yup, did not get mad. U havin start of something new too bb? Hahaha! My heart feels happy because Dada has a plan for this day. Like, when is the last time you did this, love? Been a while! I miss. And even if at times I get irritated so easily because I am under the weather + red days combined, he controlled his temper. Woah, truly improving! Lurveet! The day was just so amazing. All those talks and trivias, the walks and photowalks (hehe), the food and trip itself, plus everything in between of course, I think I can say… I love you better now. *luh lol but srsly* I love you Daddeh! Hope we are always like this. I love you, I love you, I love youuuuu 💖

On the other hand, the second agenda…

Girls night out 🙌 + one 😂 !!!

Pagbigyan na hoy. Saturday is the only day Dada and I can bond. Huehue. TBH, these ladies are the reason why our Mnl itinerary got messed up. Kidd! Haha! So sweet my bebe, he fetched my friend Keng who got lost in Pedro Gil. I was just in the terminal eh. Saving our seats. Hahahahaha! We were waiting for her since she came from their apartment nearby. And that, we went together as we met our other friends. Hi to my soul sister Rov who is also sick. Haha! And the twins, Ediza and Lei. Yas for our mini-reunion because of Joshua Garcia and Julia Barretto (and Tokyo Tokyo)! Love you to the stars and back, Joshlia! Oops, it’s now revealed that we are fans. Hahahahaha! Walang kupas. From Vince and Kath to Mika and Caloy? SML! Yahoo for this get together. Good night it is. *yay*

Indeed and I must say…

This second of September with my second year buddies can be considered as golden seconds of my life. ✨

It was just a quick get together but at least right, at least we gave each other our time, because “time, it is also precious.” Adira grivinda amana tharum! Hahahahaha! But reallyyy, it is just Day 2 of the month yet my heart is full already! How much more on 29? OMG! Hihihihihi. Had a wonderful day with the people I cherish since 2010! Thank you for making this day possible g-uys xx