#there's like 6 different styles slammed into here probably because I poked at it

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

Shaking the rust off

When you haven’t written anything in over a year so you agonize over posting it for days??

A small exploration pre-Frozen 2 of Elsa hearing the voice in advance and struggling with what to do about it. Cuz really it never made sense for her to have just heard the Voice during the movie like?

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Nineteen days, twenty hours, and forty seven minutes. That is how much time had passed  since Elsa first heard, "The Voice".

By giving it a name of course, this meant that she had considered it, classified it, and acknowledged it, an act  which struck her as equal parts entirely logical and utterly outrageous, because that meant The Voice was real.

Barely a whisper at first, an inner thought, so deep down that Elsa had mistaken it for her own. But a sound out of place at a council meeting, a blending of words while speaking, gave her pause.

During the day, or days as it became, the Voice was easy to ignore. In fact the first week she had utterly forgotten about it between sunup and sundown as there was always much to do. Laughing with Anna, ribbing Kristoff, practicing letters with Olaf, checking in on Sven (she'd gotten much better at reading him and enjoyed his quiet company immensely), oh and of course, everything that she had to do to run Arendelle. Not exactly a short list.

But by the second week she knew there was something going on. The Voice had separated from her own thoughts until, were she asked, she would say it was someone else's voice in her head.

That frightened her.

Who was this voice? What was this voice? No one else reacted when she heard it, sliding against the back of her skull, comfortable as a cat. But snakes slithered too, curled up, coiled and taut. Was this a trick? A trap?

She told no one.

Night was the worst time. Already accustomed to staying up late, Elsa had no one to serve as a buffer when the whispers came to her. Alone in her study, her head bolted up as the Voice called again. A melody, always songlike, without words or meaning, or at least none that she could discern. And yet Elsa could understand it, if just a little. There was intent in the notes, even if she could not yet decipher what.

If she were lucky Anna would knock and enter, an ever welcome distraction. They would talk about the day, about what needed to be filed, which correspondences needed to be completed, about who's birthday was coming up they could celebrate. Kristoff always rolled his eyes and smiled whenever they celebrated something "so small" as some people put it. Misinformed people. Anna and Elsa knew that any day could be celebrated, and should be; if they couldn’t find a reason they’d invent one.

But tonight Anna did not come. The Voice had risen in volume over time, more insistent than ever. Elsa was already good at pacing but she was starting to worry about the floorboards in her study. They'd no doubt already seen their fair share of stepping and stalking from other rulers, her parents' included. Given her well earned freedom, the opportunity to walk elsewhere was far too tempting.

Which is how she found herself outside of Anna's room, hand raised, knuckles a scant few centimeters away from the wood. She knew she was always welcome, but it was the principle of the matter that made her hesitate. It was twilight hours, candle wax well dripped from their guttering flames.

It was, in a word, late.

And showing up at her sister’s door with tales of voices in her head, much less one that wasn’t her own? That would be too much for anyone, wide awake or not, especially for Anna who cared so deeply it pained her.

And yet Elsa had been drawn here, like a magnet. She couldn't help it, and as she admitted it to herself a rueful smile grew on her lips. She hated asking for help, much preferring to do things on her own.

Elsa drew in a deep breath. She could push this all down for one more night, retire to her room, and speak to Anna about it after breakfast. She knew Anna hated when she did that “It's not like before”, Anna would remind her, “you can come to me for anything, and I want you to!”), but she couldn't help the creeping of the older sibling role any more than she could stop the sun from rising.

And perhaps something older than her was watching her that night, a faint ghost of a presence unfelt by the queen but there nonetheless. Or perhaps it was just in the timing of things, but in that moment Elsa couldn't do anything else but walk through Anna's door anyway, forgetting the hour, roles, and principles.

Just the faintest of sounds, muffled by distance and doors, but the hiccuping breath, the shuddering exhale, those were sounds Elsa knew all too well.

Elsa crossed to her sister’s bed on hurried feet. The room was dark save for the bed of coals in the fireplace, orange light almost bubbling as the charred rocks pulsed with inner heat. The curtains were pulled, dresses laid out for the next day, armoire cleaned up as much as it ever was. All signs pointed to a boringly mundane night.

Except Anna was crying in her sleep.

Elsa saw Anna’s shoulders move under the covers, rising evenly only to hitch and stutter halfway through. Her hair was a wild mane where it burst out onto her pillow, haphazard like the strands had fought amongst themselves. The sounds Anna made were tiny, almost pitiful. Elsa's heart squeezed to hear them, so unlike the strong hearted sister she knew.

What could have happened to shrink her, curled up to half her size, lost in a sea of sheets? Not so long ago they were laughing and cavaliering with Olaf down the halls, following this Hot Lava game he'd learned from the kids in the village. Anna had swatted her shoulder and called her a cheater because when she couldn't keep her balance she'd frozen the floor. In her defense, Elsa said, that's how she'd deal with it, should such a problem ever occur in the snow-strewn north of their country.

Elsa summoned her voice, hollow in sound but firm in its query. “Anna?” Her sister moved, the edge of the blanket slipping from her head. Seeing Anna's face made Elsa’s heart drop into her stomach. 

She'd been crying for hours. The tear marks on her face shone like bruises, her eyelids red and puffy, hair tangled and stuck to her forehead and cheeks. Dark circles spoke of her losing battle for rest, and her skin was pale as powder. Anna shivered as though she were cold, but bundled so thoroughly as she was in her blankets, Elsa knew that was impossible. Even if that were possible, the sweat on her brow would say otherwise. 

Anna grit her teeth, eyebrows bunching so strongly it gave Elsa the ghost of a headache just by looking. Kneeling before her sister’s face, Elsa made her hand cold, like a balm, and gently placed soft fingers between strained brows. The effect was immediate, but shocking. Anna shifted away from her touch, as though it were offensive, burrowing further into the blankets.

"No, Elsa."

Elsa’s chest constricted. Anna’s voice had been clear but strained, but was she actually awake? And if so, was she really denying her access to... whatever was so clearly upsetting her? Elsa dismissed to alluring grief that the thought coaxed forward.

"Please, don't do this, don't– don't go." Anna trailed off with a fresh wave of sobs, the sound catching in her already raw throat. Her voice was rough, both from sorrow and sleep, and the sound of it bore down on Elsa like boulders.

Elsa swallowed, resolve sharpening into clarity. “I won’t,” she whispered fiercely. “Never again.”

Quickly, Elsa whisked off the blankets Anna trembled under. Anna reacted immediately curling in on herself, her hands falling to clutch her own arms. Elsa felt the smallest pang of guilt but knew Anna’s discomfort was temporary. Even still, Anna's forearms were rigid, strong in their grasp to the point where the muscles underneath sweat soaked skin strained with the effort.

Elsa nudged her sister further into the bed, their mother's words murmuring softly in her mind. She would have smiled to herself were the situation different. She reached for Anna’s hand as she lay down. Anna gasped at her touch but this time let fingers entwine with Elsa’s, pulling them close to her heart.

Anna’s words were slurred but rapid now, almost nonsensical. Elsa heard her name called many times, in fear, desperation, but Anna still shivered despite the heat coming off her body.

“Anna wake up.” Elsa used her free hand to wipe back sticky strands of red hair. Her arm rose and fell in soothing motions as she combed them back into place behind Anna’s ear. “I’m here Anna.”

She could see Anna’s pulse thundering in her throat, quick and panicked like a rabbit. Anna’s face twitched again, and Elsa experienced the the ice cold lance of hearing Anna whimper, her hands clutching like vices. Bared teeth flashed again and stilted breaths dragged themselves harshly from Anna’s lungs.

"It's okay Anna, you're okay." Elsa pressed Anna’s knuckles, white and shining in the dark, to her lips. Anna began to uncurl, leaning into her touch. “Come back to me.” Elsa leaned forward and kissed Anna's forehead, watching as Anna's mouth softened. "I've got you."

It took a few minutes but eventually Anna calmed. One final exhale blew through Elsa’s bangs as Anna stilled. Warm breath washed over her neck as Elsa drew her sister’s head into her shoulder. Lashes fluttered against her collarbone. Elsa hugged her sister close, letting her get her bearings.

Several crucial seconds ticked by, stretching like a balloon with too much air.

"Elsa?" Anna croaked. Her mouth was dry and tongue thick with sleep.

Elsa exhaled, air heavy with relief. She nuzzled her nose into Anna's hair.

"Mmhm," she hummed in reply. "I'm here."

She felt Anna swallow, finding her voice. "Really here?" she said at last, with an uptick of her voice that sent Elsa’s heart racing once more. 

“I’m here, I promise.”

Anna fell quiet again. Elsa rubbed comforting circles on Anna’s back, ribs expanded beneath Elsa’s hand, slow and steady, like waves in tide.

"You were having a dream, a nightmare," Elsa said, an answer to the question Anna had yet to ask. Anna seemed to consider this before nodding.

With great effort Anna raised her head. Elsa ran her fingers down Anna's face and cradled her cheek. "I heard you outside and I just had to come in."

Anna's eyes lifted for a moment before falling back into darkness, thoughtful. "Sorry," she said, biting her lip, "if I woke you."

Elsa shook her head. "I was already awake."

Anna frowned, wincing a bit as her face ached. She felt gingerly around her eyes and brow. "Why were you awake? It's," she attempted to look around but from her position in Elsa’s arms she found no answer.

"It's late," Elsa admitted. "But don't worry. I was just doing a bit of work."

"You hesitated."

Elsa huffed but couldn't help the smile that appeared. "I did."

Anna looked her over again, then reached for Elsa's hands, pulling them close to her body. "I'm okay now. Thank you for rescuing me."

The corner of Elsa’s mouth tugged down. “You’re welcome.” She rubbed her thumb over the back of Anna’s hand. She would have thought Anna would be more forthcoming of the thoughts of worries that had robbed her of sleep. Anna tended to be a very honest, open person, even about things she didn’t fully grasp, which made her earnest heart that much more admirable. But she couldn’t force her to speak of it.

“It was just a dream,” Anna assured her, no doubt seeing Elsa’s thoughts on her face.

“You were calling my name.” Anna flinched. “And you sounded–,” Agonized? Heartbroken? “Sad,” Elsa finished softly, watching Anna's reaction like a glass bird on a window ledge. Beautiful in it’s stillness, but one couldn’t help but worry of it’s shattering if it attempted to fly.

Anna didn’t deny it, though whether she remembered calling out or if the fact seemed to slot itself into whatever plot she remembered of the nightmare Elsa wasn’t sure. After a moment Anna closed her eyes, and when she opened them they seemed much more clear than before.

“I think it was sad,” came the reply. “My chest still aches. But don’t worry,” Anna said quickly, no doubt seeing Elsa’s eyebrow rise with concern. “It’s not like, in pain. Not uh, physical pain anyway that I’d need a compress for.”

Elsa’s gaze flitted over her sister’s, then lower. “Your arms, do they hurt?”

“Wha-? My,” Anna turned her limbs this way and that, testing them.

“You were grabbing them so strongly.” Like you were trying to keep something in, are the words Elsa almost says but doesn’t. “Like you were cold.”

Anna pulled back, examining herself. “Elsa I’m drenched with sweat, how could I possibly be cold?” Her laugh has the wrong note to it though and Elsa’s not the only one to notice. “I think my arms are okay. See?” Anna pushed her forearms under Elsa’s nose.

Elsa hummed, though the shadows of the room danced upon Anna’s skin and made it difficult to tell if her sister was telling the truth.

“It doesn’t matter,” Anna said, pressing her forehead against Elsa’s. “You’re here now, and that’s all I need.” 

Elsa’s heart lifted to hear those words and she leaned into Anna’s touch. They breathed in sync, taking refuge in each other. No more anxiety over musical voices, no more gut wrenching nightmares.

Until.

“So what were you doing awake at this hour?”

Elsa sighed, shifting to lay on her back. “Walking.”

Anna lifted herself up on an elbow. “Like, walking around the castle? Like going to bed from your study?”

Elsa shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Which means nothing like that.”

Elsa opened her mouth but didn’t like any of the half or three-quarters truths that lined themselves up to be said so she didn’t. She felt Anna search her face before flopping down again, her hand landing on Elsa’s head.

“You’ll tell me eventually,” Anna said, scratching Elsa’s scalp.

Elsa hummed with pleasure, the stress she’d walked in the door with melting away. “If this is your way of convincing me then I can’t say I’m opposed.” Anna looked at her out of the corner of her eye. “I will. When I,” Elsa paused, trying to find the right words before, “when I can explain it better. There’s been something in the back of my mind for a while now but I can’t describe what it is.”

She met Anna’s gaze. She saw worry there, but understanding too. “And I think you’re kind of in the same boat.”

Both sisters thought, maybe I should just tell her, but both knew that they couldn’t. Not now, not without slipping, not without tipping the happy little life they’d built.

After all, Anna mused.

After all, Elsa thought.

I’d do anything to protect her.

“Maybe we should just row away from our problems for now.” Anna scoffed, moving so her side touched Elsa’s, bumping their hips together.

“Sounds like a good plan,” Elsa murmured, eyes suddenly heavy. She yawned. “But who will run the kingdom while we’re gone?”

“Kristoff and Olaf got it,” Anna yawned back, pulling the covers over them both. “He’s got a royal title thanks to you and Olaf is getting a lot better at reading.”

“An airtight plan. What could possibly go wrong?”

Sleep tugged at them both for a second time that night. This time it came without mystic voices or haunting memories. And yes, it left answers behind, but they could be brought to light in the morning, when both travelers were good and ready.

But tonight, Arendelle’s sisters had each other, and no force on earth could begrudge them that.

[thingr1]

Focus on the Fallout (2/2)

Rating: T

Warnings: Depression, suicidal thoughts, past suicide attempt.

Characters: Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson, basically entire Batfam.

Preview: *See first chapter*

Cross posted: FFN and AO3 (6-16-17). (A/N found on both sites)

Prequels: Of Milkshakes and Marathons (recommended, but not necessary) and Weighing One’s Worth (essential to understanding story.)

First Chapter: Here

It wasn't hard to tell that something was wrong.

The family—this dysfunctional, emotionally constipated family—was acting strange. More distant than normal.

Whispered conversations that ended the moment Tim crossed the threshold. Flashes of emotion caught by the corners of his eyes every time Tim glanced away. Shadows of footprints outside the door of whatever room Tim happened to be slouched in. Flutters of movement and spots of color (black, blue, red) in the darkness, tailing him as he patrolled.

That had been Tim’s reality for the past two weeks.

Everyone trying to pretend everything was normal, yet side eying Tim like something fragile, something broken, when they thought he was looking the other way.

There was only one possible explanation for this collectively strange behavior.

They knew. Every single one. And if it wasn't for the fact that he was probably (definitely) under tight surveillance at the moment, he would seriously consider another bullet to his brain from shame. Maybe jump off the roof. That is, if embarrassment itself didn't beat him to the punch.

Sinking back against the mattress of his too-big bed, Tim sighed to the blank white ceiling.

Why? Dick's big mouth... Just, why?

Tim knew Dick was only trying to help. But the thing was, they weren't Dick's secrets to share. Heck, even Damian betrayed him in the end—to the loosest jaw of the Wayne bunch, no less—when push came to shove. Which…actually wasn’t that surprising.

He felt like he was walking on eggshells. Like an outsider—no, a pretender in his own home. As if he'd ever really called Wayne Manor his home in the first place...

Tim hated feeling this exposed, baring his soul to the world. This was going to come back to bite him, someone was going to take advantage of him all over again. And Tim didn’t think he could take it.

Because at the heart of it all, that was his problem, wasn’t it? Whenever he let anyone in, they either died or threw him away; in each sense, they betrayed him. And he was so so tired of it all. Which was a much more selfish admission than he usually allowed himself. (Then again, Tim had tried to kill himself a week ago, which kind of took the cake.)

But yet…at the same time…why did it feel like a huge weight had been taken off his shoulders? He shouldn’t be this relieved to have just unloaded his truckload of problems onto Dick Grayson’s shoulders.

Dick Grayson.

Who had taken Robin from him without even asking. Who had, how many years later, apologized for it. Had stopped pretending that everything between them was right as rain and outright admitted he was in the wrong.

It was mortifying.

Tim had failed somewhere. He had to’ve.

It probably had something to do with the fact he’d tried to off himself in the middle of the Manor, the one place where all the Bats could come and go as they pleased. The one place where there were eyes everywhere. It was careless of Tim to even think of attempting what he had in such a public place.

Unless…

Had…had he wanted someone to find him? Maybe…maybe that was why…

Tim shook his head violently, turning his face into his pillow in embarrassment.

No. He wasn’t going to psychoanalyze himself now. He’d tried to kill himself. It didn’t take. Now it was just a question of moving on.

…Which would have been so much simpler if his family’s actions didn’t make it that much more impossible to compartmentalize the self-destructive feelings back into a deep, dark corner of Tim’s mind that life usually kept him too busy to explore.

And yet, Tim couldn’t help the faint glow of hope that was slowly eating away at the darkness in his core. Maybe…maybe this time Dick would come through. Maybe this time would be different; maybe they could heal. If only that feeling wasn’t so often crushed by the realities of life. Then maybe Tim could bear to give it a chance.

No, he decided. Better to forget. Better to forget than to give his family the opportunity to screw up enough so Tim would have to juggle forgiving them (again) on top of it all, too. He’d figure this out on his own. Like he always did.

Without warning, his door slammed back on its hinges.

Tim’s skin prickled, muscles seizing, panic shredding through every inch of his flesh in the form of adrenaline as he whirled, wild-eyed, to face the intruder.

Damian stood in the doorway, arms crossed over he chest, giving Tim a strange sense of déjà vu.

"Your presence is required downstairs, Drake,” the child reported, pompous as always.

Tim glared. (Internal terror revealing itself in a rather Jason Todd style: Anger.) “For what? An interrogation?”

Damian snorted. "Nothing so crude. It is…” The boy’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “‘Family Bonding,’ Grayson is calling it. Everyone is required to attend.”

"And why should I trust you?” The words spilled out before Tim could stop them.

The former assassin’s eyes narrowed. Assessing.

After a moment, Damian’s jaw set, cobalt eyes almost glaring in their intensity. "I swear to you that no one is judging you for your moment of weakness. In fact, if I see so much as a pitying glance, I will mash that person’s nose into their face myself. Just…come downstairs. Please.”

Which was…actually half-decent as far as politeness went for the demon child.

Tim…hesitated. A trap. It had to be… No.

Those eyes so like his father’s screamed sincerity, even though Damian’s features remained studiously blank. Though he was many things, Damian Wayne was not a liar. Something Tim both hated and respected about the fifth Robin.

And after…that night…something between the two of them had changed. For the first time since they’d met, they understood each other; they’d caught a glimpse of who they were behind the masks and facades. Their insecurities exposed to the person they hated most.

It was…freeing somehow.

(Dick had always told him that all Damian wanted was acceptance; and for the first time, Tim might just believe it.)

No. Damian wouldn’t betray him like this. (Not again, anyway.) The others, on the other hand…

“Promise?” The word slipped out before Tim could stop it; small. Shaky. Weak.

Damian inclined his head. “You have my word.” Solemn. Straightforward. (So unlike his father.)

Tim sucked in a breath. Bit his lip. Squared his shoulders. “Fine.”

He was going to regret this.

The journey downstairs seemed to pass far too quickly. And yet, at the same time, it stretched long enough that Tim had far too much time to think.

Tim couldn't...shouldn't...didn't want to face his family. Didn’t want to see the looks on their faces at the realization that their toy soldier was broken; unusable.

…Was he broken? Wasn’t that the question of a lifetime. One that Tim really didn’t care to answer; now, or ever.

Moving on.

(Why’d he even bother with a gun? His own brain was going to be the death of him.)

With a blink, Tim jerked back into reality as Damian slid into the lit doorway on the right of the hallway that Tim recognized as the living room without looking back. Clearly expecting Tim to follow.

Tim sucked in a breath. No. Don’t think about it.

Do this. He could do this.

Breath huffing in an almost sigh, Tim stepped around the doorframe and…

Everyone was looking at him.

And when he said everyone, he meant everyone. Dick, Damian, Alfred, Barbara, Steph, Cass, Jason, Titus.

Bruce.

The whole gang was here.

And they were staring.

Heat barely had time to brush Tim’s cheeks before the whole room erupted.

“Timmy!”

“Tim.”

“So good of you to join us, Master Tim.”

“‘Bout time you got here, the popcorn’s almost cold!”

“Hey, mind breaking the tie for us? We’ve narrowed it down to Monsters Inc. or Frozen…”

“Frozen?! Who said Frozen? I voted Inside Out!”

Through the cacophony of sound, lights, and general confusion, Cass materialized at his side, squeezing him in a hug, whispering “Love you,” and guiding him through the mass of people, popcorn, soda cans, pillows (from the bedrooms?), and movie cases to the couch before Tim could fully process what was happening.

And then Jason was wedged on the cushion next to him, throwing an arm over his shoulders. “Come on, Baby Bird, help me out here. Inside Out or Frozen?”

Tim blinked. Still in shock. “Tangled.”

Jason scowled. “Wow. You’re helpful.” Then, serious, poking Tim none too gently in the ribs, he hissed: “Bullets have more calories than milkshakes, y'know. Talk about hard to work off."

Tim flushed, a combination anger and embarrassment snapping him from his reverie. “That bar was a one time thing, Jay! I swear, is this going to keep coming up in every conversation?"

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Just so long as I never catch you at it again.” Then, in a low mutter Tim almost had to strain to hear: ”Call someone next time you start feeling self-destructive, 'kay, Baby Bird? We’ve all been there. We can help.“

Tim ducked his head; mortified (touched). "O...okay. Yeah."

Jason slapped Tim's shoulder with his free hand, reeling him in so Tim’s face smashed into him in a…a hug. "Good. We're marathoning Harry Potter next."

And...Tim's lips quirked upward. "Haven't seen those in awhile."

"Exactly, Tim. Exactly."

Dick Grayson’s voice suddenly erupted in his ear, causing Tim to jump: “Tim! Timmy! You voted Frozen, right?”

Jason stared, stiffening under Tim’s weight. “So you’re the one.”

Dick’s eyes widened. “Uh. No?”

The second Robin growled, reverberating through his chest where Tim’s face was still half smushed. “What did I tell you about Frozen?”

Dick’s eyes twinkled with the mischievous light that always preceded a particularly self-endangering statement: “That I need to ‘let it go’?”

There was a moment of pure, icy silence. Two. Three.

Broken by a laugh.

A laugh.

From Tim’s own mouth.

Another burst from his mouth without his consent. Then another. Suddenly, Tim was gripping his sides, tears welling in his eyes, shaking from the force of his own laughter.

Everyone was staring at Tim again, this time in open surprise; joy, fondness, maybe mixed with some concern for his mental health.

And for once, Tim didn’t mind it. Still chuckling, he snagged the pillow from the couch arm and rammed it into the nearest face: Dick Grayson’s. “Stuff that in your big mouth, Dick!”

There was a pause.

Then a mad cackle rent the air as Jason Todd hefted another pillow over his head. “You deserved that, Dickie!” Slammed the stunned man’s face with the makeshift weapon so hard, the seams burst. Tim almost winced.

Almost.

“Pillow fight!” Steph screamed gleefully, swiping an ancient throw pillow and slinging it into Jason in the same instant as Damian slung a blanket into the man’s abdomen. “For Arendelle!”

The room devolved into chaos as the rest of the family joined in; pillows flying, blankets cracking like whips, popcorn scattering.

And as the feathers swirled in the air around them, laughter carrying them to the ceiling, Tim realized that maybe—just maybe—he could stand to call this crazy mess of a family (life) his own after all.

[masksandtruths]

Never Normal-Part 3

A/N: This was done for @revwinchester‘s Y1K Challenge, and in typical “me” fashion, I got a bit long winded. So without further ado, here is the final part of my Never Normal mini-series. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and as always, feedback is welcome and appreciated. Thank y’all! 

If you want to catch up: Part 1 Part 2

Summary: When the Winchesters found Y/N the moment after her world fell apart, she never expected they’d be the ones to help her put it back together...but that’s exactly what they did. From friends, to brothers, to the possibility of something more--their lives together were far from normal, which was exactly how she liked it.

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (Romantic); Sam Winchester (mentioned)

Warnings: Swearing, Kissing, Fluffy, a tad Angsty (Maybe? If you look really closely?)

Word Count: 2100-ish

Gifs: Found on Google. All credit goes to original creator. 

You couldn’t help but smile when you entered the garage and saw a pair of bowlegs sticking out from underneath the Impala and heard a slightly off-key version of Traveling Riverside Blues floating through the air. Zepplin and Baby. The two things guaranteed to calm him down when he was all twisted up over something or another.

Only, this particular time the thing doing the twisting up just so happened to be you, a realization which filled your gut with both a healthy dose of excitement and more than a little fear. Still, what Sam had said was true, so you told those worries to go to hell, mentally pulled up your big girl panties, and a took another step.

You reached Baby’s side in a few short strides, bent your legs, and quietly took a seat Indian-style next to Dean’s knees. “So, I’m kind of pissed at you.”

“Jesus Chr--!” Dean’s startled cry was cut short by a loud thud as he attempted to jerk himself upright, momentarily forgetting his surroundings, and slammed his head into the underside of his beloved car. “Ow! Son of a bitch!” he cussed before finally managing to roll out from underneath the Chevy with a pained look on his face, rubbing one hand back and forth over the sensitive spot on top of his head. “And now I’m kind of pissed at you too.”

You lost your composure then, falling to your side, laughter spilling out of you freely. “Oh my god!” you howled, as you wiped at the tears running down your face. “How was I supposed to know you were going to give yourself a concussion? Who does that?!” You heard his deep chuckle mix with your own as you finally pulled yourself together enough to sit up and face him. “What happened to those hunter senses you are always bragging about, huh, old man?” you joked, poking him in shoulder with a finger.

“Hey, give me a break, I’m in my safe zone,” he answered, looking around the garage. “Wasn’t expecting a monster to come strolling in here and try to take me out.” 

“I am not a monster!”

“Ehhh— “, he teased, tilting his head as though he were trying to decide the accuracy of that statement. “Debatable.”

“You take that back right now, Dean Winchester.”

“Or what?”

“Or I won’t tell you why I’m pissed at you.”

He snorted and took a deep pull from the bottle of beer he picked up from floor beside him. “I’m not a hundred percent sure I want to know the answer to that, darlin’.”

“You are being difficult, my friend.” You saw a strange look pass across his face when those words left your mouth, and you knew instantly what he must have thought. Damn it, that’s not what you meant. Alright, you needed to get this out before you made things worse.

“Dean, I’m pissed at you because I will never be able to check the last item off this to do list of mine,” you explained hurriedly, reaching into your pocket to retrieve the pink post-it note you carried with you everywhere these days, and timidly holding it out for him to take.   

He glanced down and the piece of paper and then back up at your eyes. “Y/N, you don’t have to show me this.”

“You don’t even know what it is.”

“Don’t have to. All I know is for the last 6 months that thing has been showing up in your hand every time things got tough, and you’ve never said a word about it—not even to Sam—which means it’s important, but also personal…and also that it more than likely has something to do with your sister.” After living with them for months, sometimes you forgot how good the boys were at their job—how much they noticed the little things.

You blinked away the tears pricking at the back of your eyes and leaned your back against the door of the Impala, letting your head dip downward as a deep sigh escaped from your lips and your fingers fidgeted with the note you held in your lap. You felt Dean’s body brush against yours as he leaned back against the car beside you, and then a calloused hand as it gently covered yours.

“But...if you want me to read it…if you’re positive you’re ready for that, then I will. I just had to make sure." 

You only had to think about it for a second before you nodded and quietly answered, “I’m sure.”

Dean’s fingers brushed over yours as he pulled the note from them and slowly unfolded it. You watched as his green eyes traced the swirling lines of your little sister’s handwriting. You knew what he saw—a simple to do list comprised of only three tasks, two of which had already been checked off.  To him, it probably seemed silly, but the words she wrote on that little post-it had given you the strength to fight in a moment when you had wanted nothing more than to give up. Just like the doctors she’d always wanted to be, she’d somehow found a way to slow the bleeding—to help you heal.

“I found that about a month after you and Sam saved me. The night you had to carry me out of the Lyon Saloon. Y’all had been trying so hard, but I just…I just couldn’t get my head above water.”

“I remember,” he whispered. “It was the first time you’d mentioned her since we’d brought you home with us.”

“Right. And it was also the first time I cried since the night I lost her.”

“Uh-huh—and it was a big ugly cry, too. Mascara down your face. Snot. The whole nine,” he joked, attempting to lighten the mood, pushing some of your hair away from your face as he did so.  “Funny thing is, even then, I still thought you were beautiful.”

“Until I puked on you.”

“Until you puked on me,” he agreed with a laugh.

“And I think I asked you if it was normal to hurt that much—if everyone acted that way when they lost someone, and you said yes.”

“Yeah, I did, but you told me that was bullshit, and you didn’t want to be normal.”

“And you said, ‘Fine, you can be different, but that doesn’t mean you have to be alone’… and that you’d walk with me in the dark until I could remember how to turn on the light.” You looked up at him with a grateful smile and continued, “Which made me think of my Harry Potter books that she had loved so much.”

“Nerd.”

“Whatever,” you shrugged, not even trying to deny it. “Anyway, after you left, I stumbled around, digging through the boxes Sam had brought from my house, and I finally found the Prisoner of Azkaban. That’s where she had hidden the post-it—right on the page that contained the quote you’d put in my head,” you said, bumping his arm with your shoulder. 

“Which was?”

“’Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.’” You pulled the note from his hand and traced its edges with your finger, remembering how something had changed in you the moment you found it. You’d never know why she decided to write it, much less hide it where she did, but you were certainly appreciative because after that things started to get better. You started to process everything. You opened up a little to him and Sam. You took your first step out of the dark.

And then the night you pitched the idea of Dean’s birthday dinner, you went back to your room and checked off the first two items on her list.

1. Remember that I love you. 2. Know that you can do anything.

“So why are the first two items checked off?” Dean asked quietly, interrupting your thoughts.

“Well, I never really questioned how much she loved me. Luckily for me, she made that obvious. But about a week ago, I finally came to the conclusion that if I could survive losing my parents and then losing her—which forced me to move in with and take care of you two over-sized man children, then I really could do anything.”

“I don't know what you are talking about. I’m a pleasure to live with. I cook—every now and then. I do my own laundry—eventually. I replace toilet paper rolls—sometimes. And I don’t suffocate everyone with my gasses after a couple burritos like Sam does.”

“You may have a point there,” you chuckled.

“So now, how about you telling me how I’m responsible for you not getting to check off number three on that list,” Dean said, his voice taking on a more serious tone again.

3. NEVER become NORMAL! :)

That was the big one. You opened your mouth and closed it a couple of times, unsure of how to start, but he waited patiently, a smirk on his face and warm, green eyes fixed on yours. You folded the note up and placed it back in your pocket before you let your answer begin to rattle off your tongue.

“Because, with you, I want normal, Dean. I want to kiss you whenever I want. I want to be the one you take to bed. I want to call you mine and hear you call me yours. Hell, I want a family, a home, a white picket fence…all of it…a normal apple pie life. You make me feel like every other silly girl you’ve ever winked at, or flirted with or brought back to the bunker…and that makes me normal. And that means, number three is—”

Dean cut off your rambling with soft press of his lips against yours. When your mouth quit running and your eyes fluttered closed, he pushed one hand through your hair and deepened the kiss. Okay, the way your heart was racing at the moment—that definitely wasn’t normal. No other man had ever kissed you the way he was kissing you right now. You melted into him with a soft sigh, and when his tongue brushed across your lips asking for permission to enter, you gave it to him without hesitation. The taste of him on your tongue and the feel of his hands on your body was more intoxicating than all the alcohol you’d consumed that evening, and you suddenly wondered why in the hell you’d waited so long to have this conversation.

When you ran your hands up his chest and neck and snaked your fingers through the short hair on the back of his head, you heard a growl in the back of his throat and felt his grip on you tighten. A second later, he was wrapping his other arm behind your back and hauling you into his lap.

Your eyes shot open with a gasp, and you giggled as you settled into your new position. Now that you were facing the door of the Impala, you could see your reflection in her shiny black paint—see the smile he put on your face, and you realized that normal might not be such a bad look for you after all. You gazed down at him, still smiling, enjoying the feel of his fingertips ghosting along your collarbone and down your sides. He grinned back up at you and pressed a single, soft kiss against the base of your neck.

“What?” he asked quietly.

“I think I just decided that I’m not pissed at you about my list anymore.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, if I get to kiss you like that every day, I’m totally okay with apple pie normal.”

“Well, I hate to disappoint you, sweetheart, but unless it’s on my plate, apple pie isn’t really my thing. You can kiss me or take me to bed any time you want. I’ll gladly call you mine if you’ll call me yours. I’ll tell you I love you every day because I do.”

When he saw the shocked look on your face and the question in your eyes, he reached up and gently rested one hand on the side of your face, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb, and confirmed his confession with a simple nod of his head. You leaned forward and kissed him again, whispering an “I love you too” against his lips before you let him continue.

“We’ll even talk about a family one day, if that’s what you want. But there’s one other thing I can guaran-damn-tee.”

“And what’s that?”

“That life with the Winchesters—life with me—it’ll never be normal.”

When Dean stood up, opened Baby’s door, and pulled you inside, you knew in your heart that what he said was true—ordinary wasn’t an option with him. And because of that, you didn’t think twice about grabbing for the pen Sam left on the dashboard, unfolding the note from your pocket and checking off the last item on the to do list your sister had left you.

She would have been proud. You’d picked yourself up off rock bottom and opened your arms to a new kind of family. You laughed again. You loved again. You turned on your light. You lived.

And not one minute of it had been--was--or ever would be...normal.

Tags: @wheresthekillswitch @dancingalone21 @atc74 @goldenolaf25 @pinknerdpanda @trexrambling @messy-buns-and-shotguns @hannahindie @deanssweetheart23 @arryn-nyxx @escabell @sofreddie @triciareh @nostalgic-uncertainty @-lovepeacenhope- @avc212 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @winchesterprincessbride @winchestersnco @roxyspearing @shutupiminlooove @mogarukes @akshi8278 @emilywritesaboutdean @kathaswings @duherica @kbl1313 @emmazach @beffyblueeyes @eve05glee @horsegirly99 @michellethetvaddict @poukothenerd @growningupgeek @deevvoon @nightlyinsomnious @ginamsmith @becaamm @donnaintx 

[conjure-elemental]

arwen for the otp thing

Arthur + Gwen, the mighty and historic pairing of legends, is about to be slammed into some fluff because I love that shit 

((sorry this is so late!!!))Anyway,  my headcanons! [And here’s the ask meme if anyone wants to send me another pairing name! Preferably BBC Merlin, Sherlock, or a platonic Harry Potter or Labyrinth pairing?]

Okay so this is gonna take place kinda in a Modern!Reincarnation!AU but before Merlin and Arthur find each other again. 

_____________________-

1) Who rocks the Ferris Wheel seat and who flips out and begs them to stop?

~~Honestly I think Gwen would bc she thinks it’d be funny to watch Arthur squirm, and he wouldn’t even be able to get mad because her laughter clears the negativity from any area immediately 

2) Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, at any place and at any time?

~~I wanna say neither? But probably more likely Arthur?

3) Who is more into taking showers/baths together? Who tries to make it relaxing and who tries to make it sexy time?

~~bathtime is a mutually relaxing, kinda sacred time in which they wash each other’s cute, freckled shoulders and Arthur immensely enjoys playing with Gwen’s hair. 

4) Who likes to walk around the house naked and who tells the other to go put some clothes on?

~~Arthur walks around naked, or at least half naked, all. the. time. As if we don’t get enough of that in the canon show, this artwork from deheerkonjin proves that it’s a pretty widely accepted thing. (WARNING! link leads to VERY NSFW Merlin/Arthur fan art!) // yeah I know that link is switching it up from Arwen, but it proves my point- he’s an au naturale kinda guy 

,5) Who sleeps on the couch when they get into a fight?

~~Even though Arthur is a stubborn ass, he’d always let his queen take the bed :* 

6) Who takes photos of the other while they sleep?

~~I wanna say it’s Gwen. In a modern!AU, I think she’d make a pretty good photographer! Plus, she treasures her loved ones above anything- with the invention of a camera, she’d be snapping and savoring those keepsakes for ages. 

7) Who said “I love you” first? and who ends their arguments in a fight with “Because I love you”?

~~Arthur said it first  (p sure it’s that way in canon too), and then Gwen would definitely end an argument with that before storming out tearily, leaving Arthur to sit there and curse himself while his heart slowly dies :’( 

8) Who likes to wear the others sweatshirts?~~They both switch sometimes! Arthur’s usually fit her pretty well, a little big but cozy..... and hers just... well let’s say it comes up a little short in all directions, but it always amuses her, so he sticks with it. Plus, her clothes always smell like flowers!

9) Who wakes the other up in the middle of the night to tell them a cool dream they had? Who has the most nightmares, and who sings them back to sleep after?

~~Gwen often dreams of the “old days” when everyone was together and happy, and reminisces about these times with Arthur. Arthur is haunted by nightmares and flashbacks about the final battles, and Gwen sings him back to sleep with the folksy lullabies that the village people knew.  

10) Who is more likely to cheat?

~~Look we all know what happened between Gwen and Lancelot, I love Gwen, but if she didn’t feel secure/cemented in her relationship with Arthur, she’d be prone to wander. Once Arthur proves his devotion to her, however, she’s 100% faithful. 

11) Who makes fun of the other for having a crush on them, and who has to remind them that they are in a relationship?

~~ ooh I honestly don’t know this one, I’ve thought about it for a few minutes and I’m stumped 

12) Who starts a food fight in the kitchen?

~~Arthur plays with his food because he can’t cook worth a damn. He playfully tosses things at Gwen, and she’d pretend to be stern about it, but she would give in pretty quickly. :) 

13) Who initiates duets? and who is the better singer?

~~ Gwen often sings while she works, and what a beautiful voice she has! Arthur would be the one to join in rather obnoxiously, much in the style of a shanty singer at The Rising Sun, but they have a good time. 

14) Who starts the hand holding? Who grabs the others butt? Who slides their arm around their waist? Who likes to put their fingers in the belt loops?

~~ Gwen loves hand-holding... and butt-grabbing. Arthur’s butt is a grab-magnet. Arthur loves putting his arm(s) around his loved ones, and in belt loops.

15) Who likes writes the others name on their wrist?

~~Gwen has a lot of nice drawing pens and will doodle all over wrists and ankles :p 

16) Who is more seductive when they are drunk? and who is louder in bed?

~~ARTHUR FOR BOTH, TO THE HIGHEST DEGREE POSSIBLE 

17) Who is more protective?

~~Arthur would jump in front of a rampaging boar for Gwen, but Gwen probably has a whole network of people looking out for Arthur when she can’t access him directly, so really it’s both but in different ways? Also, Gwen would kick ass with a sword if necessary 

18) Who talks to the other while they are sleeping?

~~Arthur is v mumbly in his sleep 

19) Who drives and who has the window seat?

~~ Gwen drives because she definitely adapted to the modern life a lot quicker than Arthur. He rides shotgun to fiddle with the radio and try to help navigate (fun fact: she probably already knows where she’s going)

20) Who falls asleep in the others lap and who carries them to bed?

~~Gwen often nods off on Arthur and he happily carries her to bed and tucks her in :’)  

21) Who cuts the others hair?

~~ Gwen cuts Arthur’s hair! If Arthur tried to approach Gwen’s hair like that, his hands would get swatted away at lightning speed. #Don’tTouchMyCurls

22) Who is super bad at sexting? and who sends them encouraging messages throughout the day?

~~Arthur is really bad at sexting but makes up for it with real-life technique, so.... also, Gwen always sends cute messages throughout the day 

23) Who thinks they are not good enough for the others love? and who’s more afraid of loosing the other? Who thinks they keep messing up, only for the other to tell them they don’t need to worry?

~~I don’t like to think about these sad things :(  But I will tell you that in The Once And Future King (by T.A. Barron), Arthur dealt with a lot of insecurity issues and it added so much depth and color to his character. Gwen is always there to reassure him, telling him that no matter the pressures their lives put on them, they will always remember their sweet and humble beginnings. 

24) Who starts random slow dancing with the other in the kitchen? Who holds the other just above the ground and kisses them?

~~ARTHUR ON BOTH eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee 

25) Who says shitty puns and sex jokes just to see the other giggle and blush?

~~ listen. Gwen has such an awful sense of humour that you would never see coming. Filthiest jokes ever, coupled with shameful puns? Gold. 

26) Who kissed first?

~~I don’t remember what it was in canon but I really feel like Gwen would just lose her control after a certain amount of mutual pining (over the class status divide thing) and lay a big one on him and he’d be swept completely off his feet 

27) Who orders take out at two in a morning? and who wakes the other up at three in the morning to go downstairs with them to get a glass of water because it’s too dark?

~~  “Gwen. I’m hungry”“.....Arthur it’s literally 2am. Go back to sleep.”“I can’t! I’m starving! I feel like I could eat a horse!” “Well I have a big day at work tomorrow, I’m not getting up to cook.”“Fine. I’m ordering food.” ----one hour later, five minutes after his head hits the pillow again---“Gwen....?”“.....what.”“Can you please get me some water?” “.....are you kidding me?”“I heard some weird noises coming back up the stairwell and I’m not too keen on poking around down there right now....pleeeeeease?”“Oh, fine.”“I love you!!!!”“Love you too....”

28) Who writes poems/stories and love songs about the other? Do they sing the songs the write for them?~~Arthur has so many secret poems and songs that he’s written, but never shares them because he’s scared that everyone will tease him.

29) Who does some crazy stunt to try and impress the other and who ends up driving them to the emergency room after it backfires?~~Arthur is the showboat that ends up hurting himself, Gwen is the one who drives him to the emergency room, slightly panicked but mostly exasperated 

30) Who is embarrassed when they have to wear their glasses and who thinks they look super cute?~~Arthur. detests. his reading glasses. Gwen finds them adorable- “so scholarly!” 

[andy-abroad]

Mumbai_02

June.13.2017 Hello, hello-- What a long day it's been... although long, I feel as if I haven't done much! This morning when my alarm went off at 7, I was unusually tired. I knew I was probably still a bit tired from traveling, but I didn't think I would be that tired. I got up, brushed my teeth and got ready for the day. While brushing my teeth and trying to figure out what time it was back home, I realized I was also probably a little jet lagged. I'm 3.5hours ahead of Egypt, which is enough to make and difference! I got dressed rather quickly and headed out the door. I learned my lesson from yesterday and wore a dri-fit t shirt, as I knew I would be soaked in sweat, but the material would help keep me cool... or at least dry quicker! After all the intense rain, I was surprised to see there wasn't that much water to be seen. It was explained to me that there is actually a pretty good irrigation system, that carries the water to the mangroves outside the city. It made me kind of interested in seeing these mangroves, or at least researching about them because there are literally piles of garbage just around the street. Mumbai is incredibly impoverished and as a result, not the cleanest. I walked to the train, same as yesterday, and some how ended up at a different station. It was okay, as it was just the next stop up from where I wanted to go. I got a ticket to the end of the line, found my train, and got a seat. It's really interesting that I've seen everyone get e ticket, but no one come around and check. It would be difficult when there are literally hundreds of people in a train car during busy times, where one can barely breathe, let alone move. But I think they know that if no one pays, the trains won't run. When it was time to get off, I was slammed by a wall of men trying to get on. I think it was time to work, and it was kind of horrifying. I saw someone get off the train (while still moving, as is normal) very early in terms of the platform. I now realized he did this to avoid how crazy it got later. After I got off the train, I realized that my water bottle had fallen out of my backpack's pocket. The pocket is pretty loose and it's happened before, but the once empty train had now filled up. I was absolutely devastated, as that bottle always allows me to have a source of clean water and be a little prepared. I asked around if anyone could see it, and someone joked that I would never get it back. Miraculously, someone had put it on the luggage rack, and I spotted it as it's bright green. After some hand gestures and locals translating, they passed my bottle to me and I cheered. We all cheered! It was great. I turned around and began my search for breakfast. I got another samosa and some kind of bread with a really good sauce at a stand, and bought an extra water to be careful. I scarfed my food down and made moves to the park entrance. On today's list we're these caves that Buddhist monks carved a monastery into. Over a hundred caves were found and preserved! I got to the gate of the park and paid an entrance fee. I read online that there was a bus to take passengers to the caves, as it's about 7 kilometers away. I got on the bus but was told it wouldn't be leaving for a long time, as the bus had to fill up first before it left. I waited for 20 minutes. The man then kept trying to get me to take a local car for 20x the price of the bus, and so I decided I would spend the day hiking through this park to get to the cave. Stubborn. On my walk, I noticed that there were bicyclists and people riding mopeds. I figured you could rent them, and regretted a bit not poking around to see if I could find one. I walked through a lush forest/jungle. It's the largest nation park of this kind in the world, and is bordered on all sides by the city. There is a tiger preserve and a lion preserve inside. Both were closed, unfortunately! During my walk I made sure to take some breaks and to drink water - I didn't want heat stroke, as I was sweating so much. It didn't take long before my shirt was a different color, and I had to shake out my hat from all the sweat! It wasn't that hot, but the air was so still and very thick with moisture. I saw river crabs, herons, and even monkeys on my walk! Something I didn't really understand was that within this park, there were little compounds of houses, that seemed like slums. India has a huge population, and not all of them can be housed in houses like we think of, so they sleep in sheds, more or less. After about and hour and a half, and much sweating, I made it to the top! It was a pretty nice view, and I took a well deserved break at their little shop. I bought a water, as I had finished all of mine, and filled my bottle back up. The caves themselves were interesting, in that they were all of different uses, so they were all of different architectural styles. The biggest meeting hall and the classroom were all beautifully decorated with carvings and paintings, while the smaller rooms and living areas weren't as ornamented. I'm always so impressed by the power people have to do such great works that take such an insane amount of man power. The caves are scattered all through the side of the mountain, and I wandered for a good amount of time. Some of them smelled like pee, and I later saw one of the guards peeing on one, which is rather unfortunate. The mountain was also pretty dry, despite all the rain, which again made me wonder: where did this water go? Something weird and kind of funny was that a man and his daughter starting talking to me, telling me to go to this temple or something, and I didn't feel like bothering, so I started speaking Korean. They assumed I didn't speak English and left me alone. They talked Hindi to each other and all I could understand was "Chinese" and I lost it! I'm so tired of being asked if I'm Chinese. I told them promptly that I spoke English, I was disinterested in their temple, and that they should learn the difference between Asian races or not comment at all. When I felt that I had seen all I wanted to see, I headed back down. I was going to take the bus no matter what! I waited at what I thought was a bus stop for a bit, until someone told me that this was the old bus stop, and the new one is further down the mountain. I walked a bit more down and found the bus had just arrived. On my walk to the bus, people were buying these sliced melons from street vendors. I really wanted to try some, but I know that unwashed fruit, or fruit from the street is the easiest way to get sick. So I resisted and drank water! I got on the bus and waited for 20 minutes. The bus wasn't full, but we left anyways. I was very glad to have taken the bus this time. I also discovered that I had some pretty bad mosquito bites. I didn't itch them, and they didn't bother me too badly, but I will be spraying myself with some before I leave from now on out. At the exit, I really wanted to find a small shop or something to buy post cards. I realized that I hadn't seen a shop like this yet, but also realized that this might not really be a thing in Mumbai! I can always try the airport, which I will if I have to, but I will also keep my eyes open. From the entrance, I took a rickshaw to Borivali station. When I had tried to get one earlier in the morning, I couldn't get anyone to take me because they didn't know where I wanted to go. Maybe language barrier, maybe they just didn't want to do it because it was more difficult. Regardless, I figured it wouldn't be that hard to get me to the central train station. It was such a cool experience to be zipping in and out of cars and in just a giant mass of rickshaws! And it was very cheap! I got on my train, found my seat, and started back to the hostel. Originally I was going to try and walk the famous bridge, but my legs were too tired, so I decided to go and explore Bandra West instead. I got to the hostel of searching some things on wifi, dropping my things off, and leaving. My plans changed however, when I was told there were some issues with the wifi and it wasn't working... even if my cell signal was spotty, I had enough to do some quick research. I found a cool area I would want to walk around, and decided to go. But wait! It was 4:30, and everything is closed until 6-7, as it's the dinner prep. I was a bit disappointed but had plenty to do, as my laundry came back. I repacked my bag, and sorted out some things, and was so joyed to see all of my underwear clean and ready to go! I am missing my white dri-fit shirt. I looked at my photos and found that I wore it in Cairo, the day before I went on my camel ride. I also remember counting 21 articles of clothing, but only got back 20. I don't know whether or not to ask about it, or just assume that it's lost forever. I only brought the essentials, and after today, that shirt is an essential essential! After the packing, I still had some time so I took a quick nap to recharge and then I wrote the first half of this! Around 7 I called an Uber. My wifi was still down so I was using really spotty data. I would have about 30 seconds before it would turn off and I had to reconnect. Luckily, I got a car to drive me to dinner, although it took about 20 minutes to get here. Apparently he tried to call me a bunch of times, but my number is the 703 number. I tried to change it but my service wasn't strong enough. I was standing on the corner constantly refreshing, watching his car get closer and closer! I was very thankful my data didn't act up during this kind of stressful time. Anyways, I got to where I needed to go, and I wasn't disappointed. I found this restaurant through google. It got decent reviews and was near some of the bars my friend told me I should check out. I wanted to find someone I could go with, but I couldn't! It didn't stop me, haha. I went and I had a nice dinner. I had some shrimp soup to start, that tasted a bit like ramen! Then I had chicken curry with rice and naan. I had a beer and water as well. The whole thing, including tip was around 30 USD. A bit more than I was looking to spend, but nice atmosphere, very clean, and really cool location. The theme was vintage and they played a lot of frank Sinatra, big band type music. They even put the food on my plate for me, which was kind of fancy. Even the menu was in perfect english! During dinner, I used their wifi to download a few shows and to catch up with people. I'm much more connected than last time, and I think it's because I'm alone, but also the locations are not as.... industrialized as Europe! I paid for dinner and went just around the corner to a few bars. Beer was surprisingly expensive, and I didn't want to get drunk by myself in a foreign city. If I was closer to the hostel then maybe, but I was about a 2 mile walk (complicated streets) so I didn't want to risk it. I had a beer at two bars and then decided to call it a night. I might return tomorrow to explore in the day time, because there seemed to be a lot of little cafes and cool places to explore. There were also a lot of tourists at where I ate dinner, but none at the bars. If there were, I would have definitely tried to have joined them, haha. I used the last bar's wifi to call an Uber. Luckily there was one close by and he came to get me within 5 minutes. I got in the car and before I knew it, I was almost at the hostel. He dropped me off and I said thanks. I saw some people hanging out and chatted a bit, but they weren't really my type of people so I excused myself for bed. I am planning on running tomorrow morning! I brushed my teeth and washed my face, but didn't shower. I am a bit sticky but also lazy. I am not as sweaty as I was before - night here is cool, but also I was in a car the entire time... Anyways, I am going to bed now and will hope to have a fun and relaxed last day in Mumbai tomorrow. Then it's off to kerela/Cochin area! Until whenever--