#there's not even shame about it anymore people used to be embarrassed to admit they were voting for that party

[bugsbenefit]

first estimated results from the election today are coming in and i'm gonna be so fr right now it's so fucking overrrrr. this is so grim jesus fucking christ

[haechoxo]

[9:58 pm]

haechan was a mess, the last encounter with you haunting his mind. no one had seen him in weeks, his self isolation driven by the humiliation and regret.

how’d he let it get this bad?

he’d ruined the one good thing he had going for him, the one thing that could've ever gone right in his life, gone.

he caused you so much pain, so much anguish, you were sick of him, quite literally. all for what? because he couldn’t admit he wanted to be yours?

it was his turn to make himself sick. walking down to the 7-Eleven for the fourth time this week to stock up on booze, he glanced out the storefront window as he waited for his transaction to complete, and spotted you, hand in hand with choi yeonjun, as you exited the bistro across the street.

it felt like a punch to the gut, a harsh reminder of what he lost. you deserved happiness, he knew that. but the thought of you finding it with someone else, while he suffered in his own misery, was almost too much to bear, he deserved this.

all haechan could do was sigh, grabbing his items and heading back to his apartment, a sort of walk of shame, as he dialed up minjeong.

“...hello? haechan? it’s almost 10 pm.” her deadpanned tone rang through the receiver.

“y-yeah… sorry,” he croaked. she was the first person to hear from him in a while, not that she of all people was worried. “just wondering if you were maybe free tomorrow, just to hang out… i guess.”

minjeong only sighed. “listen, haechan, i don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

“o-oh, yeah, i guess… i guess you're right.”

“it’s not you! well– no, yeah, it is you,” ouch, “but we both know it just wouldn’t have worked out, right? you’re too focused on y/n, and we were both clearly just using each other as a distraction.” he could only listen as she went on, too afraid to say anything, to face the truth.

“the same reason you and i would never work out is the same reason mark and y/n won’t work out. we don’t have feelings for each other, haechan. it was never there.” he sucked in a breath.

“you gotta figure yourself out. we both know you can do better.” the line went dead.

haechan slumped against his front door, the weight of minjeong's words crashing down on him. the silence of his empty apartment echoed his loneliness, the low light from the streetlamp outside mocking him as he sat there. every sip of alcohol burned down his throat, but it didn’t numb the ache in his chest. the empty bottles around him were a testament to his attempts to drown out the guilt, but no amount could wash away the regret. he needed to change, to make things right, but where could he even start? he replayed your last conversation in his mind, your tear-streaked face, the hurt in your eyes. how had he been so blind?

unlocking his phone to scroll through his unopened messages, stumbling on his chats, or lack thereof, with you. they’d been dry, barren of any feelings for weeks. and it was his doing.

the unopened voicemails, mostly from jaemin about missing cafe dates and more of johnny’s parties, but there was a new one he hadn’t noticed before.

from mark.

hesitantly he pressed play, mentally bracing for the new lecture he was about to endure.

”hey man, uh— i’m not calling to apologize or anything, just so you know, i don’t feel bad for the things i said, neither does jun. i’m still really mad at you, we both are, but you're still our friend just as much as y/n is, even she’s a little worried, renjun told her not to be and i probably shouldn't have told you but whatever. the guys have been asking about you and no one really has an answer. uhm,” mark clears his throat, “jeno said he saw you outside 7-Eleven a couple nights this week already, smoking a new pack of cigarettes each time…” he sighs, pausing for a moment. haechan can feel the lump forming in his throat from the embarrassment.

“dude just because we ‘sided’ with y/n, doesn’t mean we don’t care about you and your well being anymore. obviously you feel stupid finally, and you clearly know you were wrong, but you’re going about things the wrong way, again. you can’t keep living like this, hurting the people you care about, hurting yourself, in the process.” he pauses for a bit, and haechan thinks maybe the message had ended like that, “whatever, uh, i don’t know what else i’m supposed to say bro, just let us know you’re okay, i guess, bye.” the beep signaling the end of the voicemail rings loudly against his ear, sighing shakily as he shut his phone off.

previous - next

a/n ; this one took waaaay longer than anticipated,, i just wasnt sure how well id be able to convey his feelings as well as mark’s lovely words since I HATE HIS STUPID ASS RN 💔

[gingerbearbaby]

Superstitious (Lockwood x Reader!AU)

I am absolutely obsessed with Lockwood and show choir and I was desperate for someone to write it. So this came out. It's my first (and likely only) work, so enjoy! Best read with F!reader (sorry!).

Basically, Lockwood and reader are co-dance captains in their show choir. Barnes is their director and Holly is their choreographer. Their girls group is called Elegance and their mixed group is Fusion. Also Kipps and reader used to date.

As for their ballad, it's called Maybe I Like It This Way from the musical The Wild Party. It's such a good song!

Tropes: enemies to lovers, fake dating, forced proximity

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: cussing, mentions of cheating, one line of slut shaming, kissing, a little bit of angst but plenty of fluff, they're idiots your honor, mentions of unrequited love (but it's really requited), regular mentions of superstitions

“Luce, I’m not so sure I can do this anymore.” You looked to the redhead next to you, shrugging your rehearsal bag further onto your shoulder.

“You said that last year.”

“Well last year I didn’t have to dance with him.”

Lucy opened the school door, a heavy sigh escaping her. “He’s not that bad once you get to know him.”

“Correction: he’s not that bad to you.” You swung open your locker door, wrestling your duffle bag into it. “You guys are friends we are…”

“Two people with intense sexual tension.” Lucy interrupted as you trailed off. A quick smack to her thigh was received.

“Not every rivalry has sexual tension.”

“No, but yours does.”

“Oh shut up!”

“Why is Lucy shutting up?” You looked up to see Norrie wrapping her arm around her girlfriend.

You stood up and began walking to the choir room. “She’s trying to convince me that I have sexual tension with that asshole.” You gestured to the lanky figure at the front of the room, fixing his hair in the mirrors whilst vehemently arguing with George.

Norrie gave you a look as if to say ‘Is she wrong?’ which left you shaking your head as you walked to the front of the room.

“Ah, my vice captain. Nice of you to join us.” Lockwood poked.

You raised your eyebrows. “Vice captain?”

He nodded. “Like a presidency? I’m the captain, you’re my vice captain.”

“You’re mistaken. I’m the captain and you’re my vice captain. I mean,” you crossed your arms in an effort to seem more nonchalant, “I have more experience as a captain, being the dance captain of Elegance too.”

“If I was a girl, there’s no doubt that I would be the dance captain of Elegance and you would be my vice captain there too.”

“There is no such thing as a vice captain. You’re co-captains. Sit down.” Barnes spoke, gesturing to an empty spot on the risers.

Lockwood leaned to whisper quickly in your ear, “He only said that to save you the embarrassment of losing that argument.”

You flicked his thigh, whispering back a, “Fuck you.”

He gave you a wolfish smile in return. “In your dreams.”

You simply rolled your eyes. You don’t truly remember when you really began hating Lockwood. You suppose it had always been that way. You never really spoke much except for talking about choir in history your freshman year, and even then it was brief comments about upcoming concerts. Then came your sophomore year with a shared English class, which began this weird competitiveness between the both of you. Though you have to admit, your rivalry was the primary reason you escaped that class with an A. But that didn’t make him any more bearable.

You turned to your right to see Lucy already looking back. She mouthed ‘tension’ before flashing an innocent smile and turning towards your director. 

“Your show this year will be a kind of romance-y theme. Think rom-com. Weird tension to soulmates.” Lucy nudged you. “To combat any… hormonal drama,” you cringed at his words, “we’re gonna pair you up for the show. You’ll each get a designated dance partner, bond with them throughout this season. Learn to trust them. There will be a lot of partner dancing.”

“Just make smart choices.” Holly smiled. Barnes gave her a quick thumbs up for her addition to his little spiel.

“Our first pair is our two dance captains.”

“Kill me now.” You muttered through gritted teeth.

“Kill me first.” He muttered back.

You were in for one hell of a season.

The first rehearsal was admittedly rough. Every chance you and Lockwood had, you were whispering insults underneath your breath or coughing while the other demonstrated a move.

By the fourth rehearsal, you and Lockwood began to trust each other in your dancing. And even began to bond a little. Sure you still traded little insults whenever he stepped on your toes (or vice versa), but for the most part you became friends.

By the tenth rehearsal, you realized you actually enjoyed your little dynamic. Your hatred turned to teasing and you even began talking to him after rehearsals. This of course earned you more teasing from Norrie and Lucy, but soon even George began to join in as your friend group developed.

Next thing you knew, it was the night before your first competition. You turned to Lockwood after your final runthrough of the night, hoping to give him a high-five, but was caught off guard as he ran his hand through his hair. Dancing and singing was no easy feat so you weren’t surprised that he was sweating, it was just the fact that you found his sweaty hair attractive. It was probably just the stage lights, but you quickly found yourself staring at him.

“You alright?”

You quickly nodded, shaking yourself out of your thoughts of, well, him. “Just thinking about our competition tomorrow.”

“Hey, we’ll be fine. It’s not our first time competing against Fittes. There’s nothing to be worried about.”He reassured as your face dissolved into one of horror.

“Shit.” Lockwood raised an eyebrow at your choice of words. “Kipps.” You answered. His brows furrowed.

“You worried your boyfriend isn’t gonna like our show or something?” You shook your head in dismissal, your face changing to one of disgust.

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. Cheated on me with Kat Godwin about a month ago.”

“Oh, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” You shrugged off his sympathy till his lips forged into a grin. “It’ll make our win even more rewarding. We’ll put that motherfucker in his place.”

“Yeah, except there’s one step of our little revenge plan missing.”

“Oh?”

You nodded. “In my heartbreak, I may or may not have made an ill-advised decision. And let's say that I told him that I already found a new boyfriend.”

“Oh.” You nodded, pursing your lips as the reality of your situation sunk in.

“So we need to find you a boyfriend.” You nodded. “They don’t sell those at the supermarket, how are we gonna find one overnight?”

“You don’t.” You sighed. “I’ll need to find someone to fake date me for the season.”

“One hiccup with that plan. Fake boyfriends aren’t sold at the store either.”

You nudged him with your shoulder as you began the walk to your car. “I know they don’t. But to get the ultimate revenge, I happen to know someone who he very much hates.”

Lockwood paused beside you, leaving you to turn to him, facing the consequences of your suggestion. “You want me to fake date you?” You gave him a sheepish smile.

“Maybe?”

You watched as he considered it in silence. “If I said yes, I would be doing this the whole season?”

“Preferably.” You watched as he fiddled a bit with his ring. A habit of his you began to notice more as you increasingly spent time together. “But only at competitions. The rest of the time you can go back to hating my guts.”

“I don’t hate your guts. I never have.” You felt heat begin to creep into your cheeks at his words. Maybe you won’t have to worry about finding a fake boyfriend overnight if you get sick before the first comp. “So we’ll just piss off Kipps?”

“Only at comps,” you assured. You sat in silence once more, the cold February air leaving you impatient at the length of his consideration. He was likely finding the best way to turn down your proposition.

You turned to walk away, reaching your car door as he called out, “Let’s do it, babe.” You looked to see him wink at you, feeling the heat flush once more. “Let’s get our revenge.”

You sent him a smile, climbing into your car, and hoped that the feeling in your stomach would subside before tomorrow morning.

The bus ride to the competition was spent huddled over your phone resting atop your shared mountain of garment bags, conversing the details of your fake relationship, and drinking a coffee that Lockwood gave you earlier that morning. He told you they gave him the wrong order and offered it to you, saying it was “too sweet” and that he only wanted an americano. Luckily for you, they mistakenly gave him your favorite latte.

By the time you arrived at the competition, you were a bundle of nerves just itching to finally perform. A quick glance at the clock (and your comp itinerary) left you and Lucy in a rush to find your dressing room to get ready for your performance with your girl’s group, Elegance.

You and Lucy stood backstage after your warmups, watching your stage crew and band load on. You fidgeted with your dress as you double checked your heels were on the right feet. You made that mistake once in a rehearsal your freshman year and vowed to always check before each performance. Just in case. It was a superstition you’d developed.

Thinking of superstitions, you grabbed Lucy’s wrist, giving it a quick tap as you watched Barnes motion you all on stage. Taking your places, the show began.

It was an utter blur, the adrenaline melding the whole show together into what felt like seconds, until your solo began. As you grabbed the mic, you looked to the audience and finally acknowledged the brunet boy sitting front and center. You met his eyes from the stage as he smiled brightly at you. With a quick wink in his direction, you returned the mic to the stand as the rest of Elegance returned from their costume change.

The bows began too soon. You could’ve spent all day on that stage just to know that Lockwood was watching you. He was smiling at you. And not one of his teasing smiles, a real smile.

Still in your costume, you met him in the hallway, running to give him a hug.

“You were incredible. That was incredible!” He was muttering in your ears, as he placed your feet back on the ground.

You simply smiled up at him, caught up in your proximity to him. It wasn’t uncommon to hug people in the midst of a post show reverie. It’s just that you’ve only ever been so close to him when choreographed. It felt different to feel his hands on your waist when it was a choice of your own volition. Your attention shifted as you felt a tap on your back.

Lucy, who you lost earlier in the hallway as she ran to find Norrie, was now pulling you back towards your homeroom to get changed.

“What the hell was that?”

You looked at her. “What the hell was what?”

“Your sexual tension turned romantic.”

“It did not.”

“It did.”

You jumped. “Jesus, George! Where did you come from?”

“I was right next to Lockwood. You were just so caught up in your little rom-com moment that you didn’t notice me.” You frowned.

“Not true, it was not a rom-com moment.”

“You literally just reenacted running through the airport to stop him from flying to Amsterdam to start a new life without you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t kiss him,” Lucy added.

You simply groaned in response. “Lockwood and I are just friends who are fake dating.”

The two raised their eyebrows. “That’s new.”

“That’s really new.” George agreed.

“Kipps is here. We’re trying to piss him off.”

The two nodded. “You’re going for a Proposal kind of thing.”

“Luce, what does that even mean?”

“We have to get you caught up on your rom-coms.” Lucy nodded at George’s comment.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. Just, if Kipps asks, Lockwood and I have been dating for a couple of weeks since the breakup.”

And with that, you entered your homeroom to change back into your normal clothes.

“They’re hopeless, Luce. Hopeless.”

“They’ll figure it out sometime soon. Just give them till the end of comp season.”

Once changed, you met Lockwood in the cafeteria, the two of you looking for a seat in the expanses of the cafeteria.

“Well, what do we have here?” You steeled yourself at the sound of your ex’s voice and looked to Lockwood who had already spun around.

“Kipps. What a surprise.”

“Tony! Always a misfortune to see you here.” He turned to you. “I see you’ve become the rebound for our little princess over here.”

“She’s not your princess.” Lockwood stepped forward as you reached for his wrist. “Why don’t you find someone else to bother? I’m sure some of Tendy’s kids are getting bored without someone to insult.”

Kipps simply ignored Lockwood and looked at you. “Tony? Really?”

You let out a dry chuckle. “I could say the same thing about Kat.” Kipps’s face twitched with anger as you continued. “And at least I found someone who actually cares about me, something you could never manage.” You laced your fingers with Lockwood’s. “And his name is Anthony, not Tony.” And with that you pulled Lockwood away.

When it was finally time to perform, you found yourself fidgeting backstage again. Lucy quickly tapped your wrist, leaving to go back by George, her own dance partner. Still toying with a sequin on your dress, you glanced at Lockwood whose hair was in spikes as he continuously ran his hand through it.

“You look like a mess.” You whispered. “Are you always like this before a performance?”

He only nodded. As stage crew was almost done loading on, you quickly grabbed his wrist to stop him. “There’s no way I’m letting you go onstage like this. You look like you’ve been electrocuted. Can I fix your hair for you?” He simply nodded once more as you went on your tippy toes to fix it, wobbling a bit in the process. Lockwood’s hands flew to your waist to steady you, giving you a rush of that same nauseous feeling in your stomach. You brushed off the thought, rationalizing it as nerves, and quickly admired your work with his hair. Adjusting his tie, you flashed him a smile. He responded with a simple squeeze to your hips before he turned to see Barnes gesturing the choir onstage.

The performance was a whirlwind, and before you knew it, Lockwood was dipping you in his arms, his hands supporting your waist. He gave you a little squeeze, identical to the one before you began performing. A large smile had engulfed his features, as he pulled you out of the dip, twirling you as you both exited the stage to the sound of a thundering applause.

“Holy shit.” You exhaled a laugh and turned to Lockwood.

His hands had found their way back to his hair, spiking them up yet again. You found yourself thinking back to yesterday’s rehearsal when he had done the same thing. Without the stage lights, he somehow looked even more beautiful, with his leather jacket pulled taught around his arms. He smiled at you before leaning in to whisper, “We put that bitch in his place.”

You simply laughed along with him, walking back to the homeroom to meet up with Lucy, George, and Norrie.

Later that evening, your choirs were huddled together in a corner of the vast auditorium awaiting the emcee to announce the finalists. In a swarm of the students, one Lockwood was missing, leaving you frantically searching for him. Swatting a sophomore from the seat beside you, you felt Lucy lean over to whisper, “You’re whipped.”

Her words were quickly forgotten by the arrival of the boy holding a pretzel. He tore a piece, squeezing through the row to settle beside you. “Want some?”

Wordlessly, you took it, and turned your attention back towards the stage as the emcee, one Mr. Fairfax, entered. Reaching to Lucy, you linked pinkies with her.

“Going first in your large mixed finals is Tendy High School Swing Sensations!” Squeezing Lucy’s pinky harder, you felt Lockwood’s knee knock into yours, his hand opened beside him, inviting yours.

Lacing your fingers, you heard Fairfax continue. “Second in the large mixed finals is Bunchurch High School Encores!” You felt your body tense. Only two more finalists.

A thumb brushed over the back of your hand, softly. Like a whisper of comfort that one was unsure to offer. You squeezed his hand again. He squeezed right back.

“Your third finalist tonight is Fittes Academy Vocal Excellence!”

You dropped your head, holding your breath to better hear the announcer. “And last but certainly not least, Portland Row High School’s Fusion!”

You exhaled, leaning over to Lockwood and linked your arms with his. “One step closer to revenge.” And with a smile you turned back to Lucy to discuss the possible results of the competition.

On the way to your warm-ups, you felt Lockwood reach over to lace your fingers together. Looking up at him, you saw the pure anxiety on his face. Squeezing his hand, he turned to you, his brow unfurling ever so slightly.

As the Fittes crew exited their warm-ups, Kipps shoulder bumped Lockwood, knocking him into you. His once anxious features dissolved into one of anger, his jaw clenching.

“He’s only doing that because he knows he can’t win.” Lockwood turned back to you, taking a deep breath before the warm-up began.

Once again huddled backstage, you checked down at your shoes while Lucy tapped your wrist again.

“Can you fix my hair again maybe?” Lockwood whispered.

Back on your tippy toes, you checked his hair and straightened his tie. “Are you superstitious, Lockwood?”

Without words, he squeezed your hip before turning to wait for Barnes’ directions.

On the stage, you only got to see Lockwood performing. With his big smile and irresistible charm, it was impossible to think of the boy you saw backstage. The one who holds your hand and squeezes your waist. You’re not sure which Lockwood you liked more: the dazzling performer or the one who needs you to fix his hair. Once your second number was finished, you hit your pose, one Holly was quite proud of. It’s not necessarily even a pose, it’s just a hug. In your quick embrace, you heard Lockwood exhale into your ear, quiet enough to not be picked up by any of the mics, but loud enough for you to hear his words.

“I like when you call me Anthony.” As Norrie began her solo, your mind kept repeating his words. It was as though he was stuck in your head; a broken record on repeat. You found yourself suddenly relating even further to the ballad as you began to sing once more.

Once the bows commenced, you met Lockwood’s eyes as he dipped you for your final pose. It was then you decided that the Lockwood you liked most was Anthony. And as he twirled you offstage, you felt that same nauseous feeling settle into your stomach.

Smiling at him, you rushed to find Lucy and Norrie. “You were right,” you whispered. “Our tension has gone romantic.” Lucy grabbed your elbow, pulling you closer to the wall. “He told me he likes when I call him Anthony.”

“What, during our show?”

“Yes!”

“When is there time to do that?” Norrie asked, huddling around the two of you. “We’re singing the whole time.”

“He whispered it during the hug. Before the ballad.”

“Oh shit.” The two whispered. “Well is it so bad that he maybe has a crush on you?” Lucy continued on. “We’re all waiting for it to happen.”

You ran your hand through your hair, squeezing your eyes shut. “No! No. He doesn’t have a crush on me. I have a crush on him.” The two shared a look before turning back to you. “Telling your friend to call you by your first name is normal. It’s the fact that I can’t stop thinking about it that’s throwing me off.” 

“Well it happened only 10 minutes ago, I’d say it’s fine to think about it after such a short duration.” You groaned.

“It’s not that it’s recent. I don’t get thrown off by things like that. Especially not onstage. He’s gotten into my head.”

“What he’s gotten into is your heart. Is that so bad?”

“Yes! Because it’s Anthony fucking Lockwood! We’ve hated each other for years, he’s only being like this because of forced proximity. Or a bet or something.”

“Keep telling yourself that. But the longer you deny it, the worse it’ll get.”

You sighed, beginning down the hallway. “I just need space from him. It’s just like a showmance, right? None of this is real.” You began nodding slowly. “I don’t like Lockwood.”

“No, you don’t. You like Anthony.” You smacked Norrie’s arm and entered the auditorium, finding Lockwood’s leather jacket over a chair. As soon as he noticed you, he began waving his arms, leaving you no choice but to shimmy your way down the rows and into the seat beside him.

“Thanks, for saving me a seat.”

“Anytime. What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t save a seat for you?”

“A pretty crappy one.”

“Well many sources have said I’m the best fake boyfriend on the market.” You wrinkled your nose.

“What are they grading you on?”

“Charm, chivalry, and chemistry.” You rolled your eyes.

“I don’t think the person who judged you had their proper credentials.”

“Rude.” He whispered, as Fairfax entered the stage.

Reaching for his hand, Lockwood laced your fingers together and gave you a quick squeeze.

“Your third runner up, from Bunchurch High School, it’s the Bunchurch Encores!” Snapping with your free hand, you felt Lockwood’s grip tighten. “Your second runner up is the Swing Sensations from Tendy High School!”

You closed your eyes, bending your head as you awaited for the caption awards to be announced. “Best vocals go to Fittes Academy Vocal Excellence.” Holding your breath, you heard Fairfax continue. “Best visuals awarded to Portland Row High School Fusion!” You let out a sigh of relief. There was still a chance.

“And now, for our first runner up. From Portland Row High School, it’s Fusion! Which means that Fittes Academy Vocal Excellence is our Grand Champion. Congrats!” Jumping up and down with the rest of the choir, you turned back to Anthony.

“Sorry we didn’t win.” You bumped your shoulder into his, breaking him from zoning out.

“Why are you sorry? I’m sorry I talked it up so much.” You shrugged. “We’ll get our revenge at the DEPRAC comp, right?” You smiled at him.

“Until then, you’re off duty as my boyfriend.”

“You know? I was really starting to like it.” You watched him wander over to George before Lucy tackled you from behind.

“First runner up for our first competition means we can only go up.”

“Let’s hope so.”

Three weeks later, you found yourself smashed in the bus seat with Anthony for three hours. Holding an empty latte cup— they messed up his order again— you had dozed off on his shoulder halfway into the ride. Feeling a shove, you woke up to see the high school in front of you. The DEPRAC Invitational was an exclusive competition filled with dozens of the best show choirs from your area. You were lucky to even walk the halls.

Placing your garment bags in the homeroom, you heard your name being called.

“You’ve got the solo today.” You looked at Barnes quizzically.

“What solo? Elegance isn’t performing today.”

“Norrie’s out sick. You need to cover the solo.” You nodded. You had auditioned for the 

song earlier in the season so you knew the part. But covering for Norrie left some huge shoes for you to fill. “Can I trust you?”

“Yeah, I’ve got this.”

Meeting Lockwood in the cafeteria, you told him about the switch before being interrupted.

“Come to lose to the big dogs again?” This time it was you turning around first.

“Fuck off, Kipps!”

“Woah, calm down, sunshine. It was just a question!” Lockwood scowled. “And remind your little guard dog here that you were mine first. We both know you’ll come crawling back in the end.”

“That’s enough, Kipps. Leave my girlfriend alone.”

“Sure thing, Tony. No one wants a slut like her anyway.” And with that, Kipps turned sharply, leaving the two of you fuming.

“If it didn’t mean getting us disqualified, I would have kicked his ass for you.”

“That’s not your job to do. I can handle myself!” 

“I know that but I’m your boyfriend I wanna-”

“You’re not my boyfriend!” You seethed. Not sure where this anger with him was coming from, you stormed off to avoid any further arguments.

You avoided him for the rest of the day, only going near him to fix his hair and tie or to dance. You didn’t squeeze his hand or hug him after performing, despite his attempts to compliment your solo.

As finals rolled around, you found yourself more anxious than ever before. As Lockwood squeezed your waist one last time, you finally met his eyes before snapping out of his trance. You refuse to get blindsided by his pretty brown eyes, but distancing yourself from him was impossible as the whole group was packed like sardines in the wings. With a small smile, Lockwood turned around and entered the stage.

As the second song ended, you realized the breath you were holding as Lockwood posed in your hug again. His breath warm against your ear he whispered again. “I want to be your real boyfriend.” Masked by the applause, you allowed your breath to stutter before the music to the ballad began.

Departing his embrace, you grabbed the mic with shaking hands. This love song, this twisted and toxic depiction of love you were singing about found a resolve deep in your bones, the chills of the rest of the choir singing behind you settling across your skin. The fear of a boy who found a chink in your armor resounded in your heart and the anger of a confession you were too blinded to accept. It felt like hours when Lockwood finally squeezed your hip one last time as you twirled off stage.

Gripping his leather jacket, you pulled him into a hidden vestibule, the adrenaline of your performance still coursing your veins.

“What the hell was that?” You seethed.

“The truth.”

“Couldn’t the truth have waited?”

“You’ve been avoiding me all day! When else was I supposed to tell you?”

“Never! You were never supposed to tell me!”

He groaned, running his hands through his sweaty hair. “I had to tell you! It was killing me! I’ve wanted to be your boyfriend since freshman year. And the second I finally thought I had a chance with you, you came to school with that stupid Kipps as your lock screen. How do you think that felt?

“To be second place to an asshole like that for so long! I hated how I still liked you, so I pretended to hate you. To drive you away. And it finally worked! But the instant you asked me to fake date you was like a dream come true. I couldn’t deny it anymore that I still wanted to be yours. To even pretend you actually reciprocated any feelings was as good as any other. But it wasn’t enough for me! I need you.”

“You’re making this up. You got caught in the whirlwind! It’s just a showmance!”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do! You don’t mean any of this and you’ll regret it all by next week. Trust me I’ve-”

He pulled your waist, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Grabbing his lapels, you quickly found yourself kissing him back. Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he further pulled you into him till your bodies were fully flesh against each other. Pulling away, you tried to lean back in but he further pulled back. “Since you’re so sure it was fake, there’s your proof. I’m done waiting for you.” And he turned down the hallway.

The second you snapped from your daze, you ran to find him, but he was already lost in the crowd. Finding Lucy, she pulled you aside, taking you to Barnes. “Found her!”

“Perfect, where’s Lockwood?”

“Behind you,” you turned to look at him but his attention was fully on your director.

“You two are our reps for awards tonight. Got it? Head backstage.” You both looked at him. “Now!” Turning back towards backstage, the two of you departed, a heavy silence falling over you.

“Can we talk about this?”

“What is there to talk about?” Crossing his arms, Lockwood turned from you.

“Anthony, please?”

“Some lovers quarrel.” You look up to see Kipps and Kat. “This is just your first heartbreak of the day. Can’t wait to watch you lose.” And with that, you were beckoned on the stage for the presenting of awards.

“Your second runner up, from Rotwell High School, the Rhythm Makers!”

You brushed your pinky against Lockwood’s, smiling when he relented and linked them together.

“Your vocal caption award goes to… Portland Row High School Fusion!” Your smile spread further as Lockwood squeezed your pinky. “And our visual caption award goes to… Fusion again!” Turning to smile at Lockwood, you found him already looking at you.

“And now, for your first runner up.” You began holding your breath, squeezing Lockwood’s pinky even tighter. “Fittes Academy!” Your jaw dropped as you began smiling in realization. “Congratulations to our Grand Champions from Portland Row High School!” 

Holding the caption awards and trophy, you and Lockwood watched as the rest of your choir joined you on the stage. Each given a medal, tears and hugs were shared. Exiting the stage, you grabbed Lockwood by his medal, pulling him back to that same vestibule.

Pulling his lips to yours, you felt his hands find your waist, squeezing it gently. “Revenge is only fun if it’s real.” You muttered, lips still brushing gently over his. “This is real for me, Anthony.” Looking into your eyes, he pushed your hair back before capturing you in another kiss.

You felt him begin to smile into it, brushing his thumb over your cheeks. Reaching to play with his hair, you deepened the kiss until finally pulling apart for air.

“I think we should kiss after each performance.”

“Yeah?” He looked at you, the teasing smile you were so familiar with painting his face.

“Maybe I’m a little superstitious.”

[mizz-sea-nymph]

Attention: if you are not @hebemina then I advise you don’t respond to this cause just by that you’ll embarrass yourself by proving my points and being literal proof.

Id like to say that me and her where friends but during the time we where friends she had her weird moments and her alright moments especially when we first met, it wasn’t her acting like the adult it was me, funnily enough I started referring to her as a sister cause that’s what I do when I worry about how a person views me, it was clear I was uncomfortable and got my friend who remember the first encounter and how I reacted to this ask a while back, hell I even asked them how to respond to the ask cause I was in such a panic. When looking at it, I’m genuinely disgusted how she didn’t even apologise or better herself, everyone keeps saying she’s better but she isn’t and it’s really sad how harmful it is especially to the people she spoke with that she made uncomfortable.

(She was drunk and I was mortified and didn’t even know how to respond so I danced around it I’ll admit that but thing is she didn’t even apologize)

Now it’s hard to show this from the past cause of personal stuff but since some people already know about it I guess I just gotta grow some balls. I’m showing this from the past cause I came across it a while ago and got disgusted, I was a child and I was mortified so much so I asked my friends how to respond to it and was so ashamed and embarssed I thought I deleted this but luckily didn’t cause one can realize how horrid this is. What’s funny is a DECENT AND SENSITIVE AND CARING PERSON would apologise! You never apologized Mina! and this wasn’t the first time you got weird with me! Seriously! Atleast have the decency to say sorry! But not just this you’ve many times turned our platonic and happy convos to something straight up weird, I ended up deleting many on my blog cause of unlike you I feel embarrassed!

I went through a hard year and having someone like this disturb me online was the icing on the cake but of course I was too embarssed and scared to say anything about it cause I feared I’d be yelled at, by your followers, yeah allot of you made me not even want to stand up for myself and say “what you are doing is rubbing me the wrong way” despite her knowing my age, and despite me reminding her constantly at that time I kept saying “haha I’m in high school”. So to the people reading this, dont make her seem like she Dosent know the age of her followers cause she lurks, she lurks around even accounts she has now ignored just cause said acount has a different opinion then her.

Thought I didn’t notice? I easily noticed how you and @hanaiikiki or whatever TF her name is now stopped talking to me as a whole and started ignoring my existence, even when I was geniunely trying to be nice etc, you stopped when I voiced my opinion about Loki, Hana going as far as telling people she Dosent know me (girl I got ears everywhere, when I heard this I was shocked cause I thought we where good!) despite me clearly stating as a continuation I don’t care what anyone likes and Dosent like it’s the VICTIM BLAMING, that’s wrong and also rly weird. So I don’t understand why both of you would let a fictional character come between a nice mutual friendship, especially you Hana I geniunely liked talking to you I liked talking mythology and liked sending you asks, you where really nice and kind with me and didn’t weird me out like Mina but it’s clear you have no self identity what so ever. But of course, no worries! I have no need for you! I know who my people are and aren’t and you aren’t one of em that’s for sure. As for Mina, yeesh girl yeesh that’s all I got when it comes to this, cause again no self respect self shame or friendship is magic in this case, but then again you’re no use of me either so I’ll say I’m glad you don’t speak to me anymore cause you creeped me out many times :)

just cause someone hides behind a cute kind persona dose not always mean that’s what they are on the inside dishonesty is sm. I’m honestly so dissapointed so many here defend her and say she’s changed instead of her saying she has, let her speak for herself if she’s so much so as the adult she claims to be.Let her speak cause I’m amazed how everyone walks eggshells around her cause she’s “sensitive” that is a insult to sensitive people as a whole.

I’m not going to mention who cause I want them to rest easy cause they are dear to me and what they experienced today breaks my heart they’re so sweet and didn’t deserve any of this, but when Mina apologized to them, Mina used the excuse of “I didn’t know you where a minor” despite her MENTONING THEIR AGE! Everyone knows people that know what they’re doing use that excuse, they lie, they will always go with this excuse, don’t get offended and stop reading now Mina I ain’t calling you a pedo, I’m calling you a dumbass, a real big dumbass as a whole for that shit apology and excuse. A victim of harassment Dosent deserve this, and a “sorry” dose not make up for the trauma the victim suffered let alone this type of “sorry”.

(I’m covering the name cause I rly feel bad for who experienced this and believe the poor thing has experienced enough today of all days like good god I don’t even want anyone to comfort me I’m fine! Just show some support and love to this victim cause good god)

there’s a line with senstivity and irresponsibility, and if it weren’t for me sending a respectful i REPEAT a respectful I’m a respectful person that’s how my mama raised me, anon ask saying you shouldn’t interact with minors much cause they’re easy to influenced and they see what you post easily etc etc, the useless “minors do not interact” wouldn’t be there. Oh and it’s hilarious how you have it there and still interact with said minors? Sweetie? It’s not there for show! Lotus? Heldril? Goddamm new comers? Children copy and children get affected! And you’ve clearly traumatized and affected a bunch! If you’re a so called elderly care giver you should know how to care for others that aren’t just you, make it make sense!

Oh and let’s not leave this out the cake. It’s funny how you talk about masturbating in public and how you vent in public, letting literally people who are younger than you be your therapist, or witness you sexting IN PUBLIC keep it in the dms woman! have so shame! This isn’t red lobster you embarrassing yourself! I ain’t slut shaming you cause I’m the queen of sluts, I’ve been called a slut for years and I didn’t even know about it so don’t think I’m slut shaming you. But really How wonderful really! A nurse! Who gose through the struggle of whipping elderly asses for a living! Doesn’t go to a therapist and relays on people decades younger than her! Get a damm therapist! Be ashamed! Seriously take some responsibility!

Not to mention I still remember how people expressed geniune concern for you and you milked it and said “see you on the other side” who says that! I was one of those people! I actually worried? But I woke up and realized what the fuck is this? Are you serious??? Some of these people who are worried for you are younger by years?? Some even minors?! Get a grip??! Where’s the responsibility?? It’d be better to write about your horny thoughts on a blog strictly for NSFW! I deadass told you to in the anon ask cause you need to be responsible! And dont you dare post a “im sorry 🥺” post! I know your type and I know them well! Just by that post where you explained yourself about the whole issue of you saying you want to make out with a minor, says allot. You didn’t address the issue! You just said it’s okay to hate you! You didn’t even defend yourself! Well for one Mina, I don’t hate you, I just hate the way you act,behave and your personality as a whole because that “sorry” will never cut the anxiety and horrible memory as a whole, be ashamed a bit, it’s not funny to make everything sexual and as a adult you should understand that.

What you did to those mods and roleplayers? I’m still speechless and have Vietnam flashbacks when it comes to the public sexting good god, atleast as if it’s okay to do NSFW and sent a literal pic of you bust? I know dirty I’m the QUEEN of dirty that hand on your top pulling the shirt a little lower shocked me so much my eyebrows left to Saturn and had a baby with the planet! I’ve got eyebrow planet grandkids now that’s how shocked I was. Not to mention the mod was 19 you are literally a decade older girl- tf is this lore Olympus? I know you like lore Olympus but girl lore Olympus is lowkey shit no offence. Honestly no wonder the mod stopped roleplaying and deleted the acounts cause good god girl- atleast have the decency to ask?

It’s really funny! Just a big joke really!

I for one was a friend with yo!u until I realized your true colors, I’m disappointed and consider this pathetic. I used to think you were nice and kind but I was met with dissapointment you genuinely disappointed me, hurt me and not only me but many others, don’t beat yourself about it just accept the fact that you did and just remove yourself from said minors and ACTUALLY BE RESPONSIBLE, before you hurt even more people.

As for the ones reading this,

You all know me and I’m pretty sure this is shocking seeing me a person here on tumblr call out the so called sweet Mina but honestly, people! nobodies perfect! Are you kidding me?? Get it through your skulls! She isn’t perfect and I’m not saying to hate her I’m saying to stop treating her like a child! when actual children here are being harmed! I’ve seen minors on here who deadass have been affected by her! And nobody I say nobody! don’t you dare say she didn’t know what she was doing that’s a insult to the victims and disgusting in general.

Also it’s not the ror fandom that’s changing, this has nothing to do with ror, to anyone reading this know this, it’s the Mina fandom that’s changing, not the ror fandom I’ve been in the ror community long before her and if sm was changing I’d know.

I’m deadass saying this despite me being a decade younger then Mina, I’m not saying this as a friend, not as a friend cause I don’t see you as that anymore and will never will ever again, im saying this as a person who’s going to be honest with you,

Keep it real

Enough of this self cantered,narcissistic ,immature, shameful,irresponsible and selfish behavior, you should be able to expect opinions like this, stop hiding behind your followers and say what you have in mind Mina and DONT dance around the issue, I read your “apology” post when the Heldirl issue raised to light, you didn’t even talk about the issue in hand, you just said it’s okay to hate you! Three paragraphs!! don’t dance around this, and you know what, Don’t even respond if you plan on doing that, cause that just proves the point.

Just know I don’t respect you not just cause of you being weird in the past with me but also with others specifically others I care about, so don’t come crying to me cause I geniunely don’t care I know these types of etiquettes, a sorry will never cut shit like I said so call me a cruel bitch idc ig it’s fair 🤷🏻‍♀️ just know I DONT respect you one bit,good day.

Tagging

@amphitriteswife @tinyy-tea-cup @mono-supports-palestine @praisethesuuun @riseofamoonycake @brokensenseofhumor @monstertreden @heldril @lotusmybeloved @nicasdreamer @ idk

idk who tf else to tag aaaa 💀 but yeah that’s my take on all of this respect me hate me I don’t care I rather be hated for who tf I am then who I pretend to be and who I am is a person to keeps it real 🤨

[dairy-farmer]

Just had a thought about TimKon cuckolding kink: it all starts when Kon comes back from the dead and finds Tim in Paris and they have their heart to heart only for Tim to tell Kon that he understands if he doesn't want to date Tim anymore, bc Tim found out a few months after Kon died that he's pregnant - and considering they both know 100% that Kon is completely sterile, there's no way he's the baby daddy

And like, he was dead, so it wasn't TECHNICALLY cheating on Tim's part? Tbh I'm not sure who the baby daddy would be, but I really wanna say Ra's. If it doesn't work, timeline wise, then I could easily see Tim and Dick angry fucking before Tim leaves to go find Bruce and gets pregnant from that. Not the point tho

Kon finds he doesn't really mind Tim having someone else's baby. It's not like Kon could have gotten him pregnant instead, after all, and he's always wanted a family, especially with Tim. As Tim progresses in his pregnancy, they both find they're more and more turned on by Tim's pregnancy as time goes by. When the baby is born (and a carbon copy of Tim, so no one assumes Kon isn't the baby daddy, his being sterile not common knowledge among anyone that isn't the core four), they're both in love with her and with each other. Despite that, Kon finds that he misses Tim's big baby bump and heavy tits that he had while he was pregnant. They talked about it a little bit before the baby was born, but never decided if this would be their only child of not

At the very least they should wait until they aren't teenagers. Right? But then the baby if five months old and Tim is working on getting his pre-baby body back (or as close as he can get it), and Kon can't take it. He tells Tim he wants them to have another baby. This is when they discover that they have cuckolding kinks, and then later after Kon gives Tim permission to sleep with whoever in order to get pregnant, Kon learns he has an indefinitely kink as well, bc Tim reveals that he slept with A LOT of people with no idea who knocked him up. Kon finds this so hot and so... life continues on

They have more and more kids, convincing everyone they're just dumb teenagers who can't keep it in their pants long enough to wait for Tim to get birth control, when really they intend for these pregnancies to happen. Tim sleeps with many people, some capes, some strangers, some family and friends, and most of them are under the impression that Tim is cheating, and so they keep hush-hush out of shame. This helps with any allegations of who the baby daddy could be, so no one questions Kon's parentage

By the time they start slowing down, they easily have kids in the double digit numbers by now, a handful of them sharing a father. People seem to have caught on but are too embarrassed to say anything, bc some of the babies Tim has popped out are... well, clearly NOT Kon's, based on prominent features like skin color or hair color/texture. They're both super into it tho, and have a completely healthy relationship with each other and all of their babies, besides

tim and kon using the shame other capes have at having had an affair with tim while KNOWING he was married to kon to make sure they keep quiet is SO good especially if kon was actually listening while it was happening. he used super hearing and xray vision to be able to listen and watch while tim was getting knocked up again with one of their babies 🥺.

even years later when its clear that kon is not the father of all of the babies because of the powers they start getting but the people who suspect they're the biofathers still don't say anything because they can't possibly admit to the affairs they engaged with together with married person especially if they were ALSO married. (clark looking uncertainly at one of tim's babies that looks SO similar to jon)

just kon and tim having a breeding, infidelity, AND cuck together- they really are made for each other ❤️

[lunar-solstice-plur]

Not to talk about random shit on this blog but I need to talk about Inside Out 2 because I LOVED IT so much. (this is not a professional analysis at all just ramblings) (also SPOILERS)

First things first, I loved the character designs so freaking much. Little Envy being so small she has to be carried, and her cute little dress?? I was like crying looking at her. Ennui like not even being able to sit up right cuz she cares so little. I love her emo design and just the fact that she's French is so random but I love it. I wish she had more of a role in the movie though.

Embarrassment being so big he can barely fit in the frame. His hoodie covering up his entire face except his nose is so cute. And Anxiety being high strung, like, physically, her stringy hair tied up! And her awkward smile and deer in the headlights eyes, she is we. Oh, and Nostalgia literally having rose-colored glasses lol.

And its not just the emotions, the other designs were so good! The human characters being so much more diverse (having a Muslim teammate? Woah!) and Riley still looks like herself, just grown up a little. The 2D animation was so fun, and Riley's anime boyfriend having the like kingdom hearts animation style is hilarious.

(All of that text and I haven't even talked about the plot yet!)

I have a severe anxiety disorder, and of course, the main antagonist of the movie is Anxiety, that's not a hidden thing, so I was I little worried about them making her some kind of evil character. But genuinely, she was so well done. She was genuinely trying to help Riley be her better self, she just didn't understand that what she was doing was hurting her. She was planning for the future, a few little broken promises are nothing compared to a positive future! But she took it too far, and everything got to be too much. Riley wasn't good enough anymore. And she tried to fix that too, but it just led to an anxiety attack.

Three things I particularly liked were, one, that Joy getting angry at Anxiety didn't stop her because getting upset at someone having an anxiety attack only sends them spiraling further. Two, showing grounding techniques in the movie! Focusing on the things Riley could hear, see, touch.

And most importantly, three, the fact that the message wasn't that Anxiety is a horrible emotion that should never do anything. That's such an easy trap to fall into. But no, she has a role, too. Riley needed to study for that Spanish test, or else she could fail. But they calm Anxiety down when she gets too caught up in not making the team, because mom and dad will still love us if we fail, and there's always next year.

Plus, the fact that Joy didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to deal with the new emotions, and she didn't know how they were going to help Riley get her sense of self back. And she admitted that. And in the end, she was still a little wrong, just like in the first movie. Riley's sense of self changed, and that's okay, because she's her own person and deserves the space to change and be herself, no matter what that entails. Riley still needs to be happy, but she also needs to feel afraid and angry and sad and disgusted, and of course, embarrassed and anxious and envious and bored. The bad memories may leave a sour taste, but they can't just be hidden away.

There were some parts I didn't like (the whole 'you're delusional!' bit was really unfortunate, and the 'well that's a preview of the next 10 years' actually seems quite hurtful to the development of youth's emotional expression, being shamed for emotional outbursts), but overall, I really really enjoyed it, and I'm so glad that they were able to portray these emotions that are viewed negatively by many people in a more positive light.

[supernaturalscribe67]

The Secrets We (Don't) Keep

Words: 7,314

POV: 1st & 3rd Person

Pairing: Dean/Sam Winchester x Brother!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Language, Fluff, Mention of John Winchester, Mention of Childhood Abuse, Awkward Moments

Summary: After finding out that his brothers, Sam and Dean, read the first entry of his journal, the reader decides to take a rather creative approach to his payback.

Request:

i’d love to see you continue with that winchester brother reader! or something similar? your writing is very comfortable to read :)

@stklett

@xdark-acadamiax - (Tagged because I saw how much you loved this idea!)

A/N: I really hope you guys enjoy this next part! I can honestly admit some parts make me laugh so I hope they make you guys laugh as well! Feedback is greatly appreciated!!!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

OCTOBER 2014

I don’t know why I thought I was going to be able to keep this journal private. I guess my expectations were too high. How dare I assume that Sam and Dean would respect my privacy? Of course, they wouldn’t. How dare I presume that hiding this thing between my mattress and boxspring would be a good idea? I mean, who in their right mind would hide something there? Everyone looks between their brother’s boxspring and mattress!

Silly me.

But, since I found out my brothers decided to read through my first entry (and ultimately vandalize my journal), I have done some brainstorming. Brainstorming ways that I can get back at them. I've considered the classic pranks to start with; itching powder in their underwear, hair dye in their shampoo, Nair in their body wash, or even putting laxatives in their coffee. All of these pranks have been used by all three of us multiple times. Even with some thinking, I’m still unable to come up with a prank that I feel would be good enough to teach them a lesson. 

So, I’ve come up with the next best thing. 

In this entry, I’m going to be writing down some of Sam and Dean’s embarrassing moments. 

Throughout our decades of life, all three of us have had our fair share of shameful moments, but the instances that I am thinking of are ones that I like to bring up from time to time. Each time I mention them, I get an eye roll from Dean and one of Sam’s classic bitch faces. It’s always so satisfying to get that kind of reaction from them. 

It would only be fitting to see what kind of reaction I get when they eventually read this entry. 

JUNE 1989

Everyone has their fears. Some people’s fears are more valid than others. Sam has a fear of clowns, I have a fear of needles, and Dean has a fear of planes. I can understand Sam’s fear of clowns - Plucky Pennywhistle's always made me uneasy when I was a kid - and, as far as my fear of needles, have you seen some of the needles that doctors use on patients? They’re HUGE! No thanks. 

What a lot of people don’t know about my older brother, however, is that he didn’t just suddenly have a fear of planes. He didn’t wake up one morning and discover that he didn’t like flying. Sam’s fear of clowns developed from our times at Plucky Pennywhistle’s, my fear of needles stemmed from an unprofessional doctor (who shouldn’t practice medicine anymore, in my opinion) from my second round of childhood vaccinations, and Dean’s fear of flying…well…

Dean used to be afraid of heights. 

I say ‘used’ to be because, if he still has that fear, he does a really good job at hiding it. We’ve gone to some pretty high places on our hunts, and, from what I noticed, it never seemed to bother him. He could always be masking it well enough, which is possibly the case. Then again, he could have learned to deal with the fear and forget about it completely. Lucky him. 

But, when Dean was younger, that was one thing that he was never good at doing - masking his emotions - especially when the three of us were by ourselves. When it was just us three, Dean felt like he could express how he truly felt about anything and we would keep it just between us. It was a little 'brother code' that we had going. Whatever was said between us was kept between us. Kind of like Vegas, in a way. 

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

I’ve always wanted to visit Vegas. 

Stay on topic, (Y/N).

For most of our young childhood, we spent half the time traveling with our father, and the other half at Bobby’s. I always loved going to Bobby’s house. It felt like a home. To me, it was always my home growing up, even if I wasn’t there all the time. Even though we stopped going there as often when we got older, it was still the place that I would technically consider my home. We had the most fun there. We felt like we could be kids for once. Like we didn’t need to worry about the things that went bump in the night anymore. 

I loved Bobby’s house. 

We were there during summer vacation, which was somewhat of a common occurrence when we were younger. Sam, Dean, and I always found things to do while we were there, and playing throughout the maze of cars in Bobby’s junkyard wasn’t unusual. Normally, we would play hide-and-seek, tag, have races, or some stupid war games that we would come up with. 

That day, however, we discovered a new stack of cars, about six cars high in total, that we had not previously known about near the far backside of the property. We would have usually stayed towards the front, but, that day, we decided to roam around. Dean had the expert idea to see who could climb the highest. Sammy went first, climbing on top of the first car with some help before he got nervous and backed down. I managed to make it up three cars before I decided that I had enough and came back down. Dean, on the other hand, took the challenge a little too seriously. He didn’t waste any time reaching the car that sat on top of the pile. He was so proud of himself. 

It all went downhill after that…

“Ha! I beat you both!” Dean exclaimed as he stood on top of the roof of the car, fists balled up and placed onto his hips in a mock Superman pose. “I’m the King of the Cars!”

(Y/N) rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Sam pouted as he looked up at Dean, his bottom lip pushed out. 

“I wanna get up there,” he said, letting out a small whine.

“You tried to get up there, Sammy, but you said it was too high.” (Y/N) explained, looking down at him.

Sam hung his head as he kicked a pebble on the ground. Dean still stood on top of the car, waving his arms around. He let out quiet, faint shouts as if mimicking a cheering crowd. Sam pursed his lips ever so slightly.

"I wanna play hide-and-go-seek." 

"It's ‘hide-and-seek’, Sammy." (Y/N) deadpanned. 

"That's what I said." 

"Do you wanna play with just you and me?" 

"No," Sam shook his head and glanced up at his oldest brother, who was still cheering for himself. "I want De to play." 

(Y/N) gave a short nod before he turned to his older brother as well. He reached up and cupped his hands to the side of his lips. "Hey, idiot! Sammy and I wanna play hide-and-seek! Get down here so we can go play!" He called up to Dean. 

"You guys are just jealous because I could climb up to the top!" 

“No one’s jealous of you, Dean! We just want to play! Come on!” (Y/N) let out a groan as he placed his hands on his sides. 

Dean scoffed and waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” He mumbled as he walked closer to the edge of the car. 

As Dean gazed down at the ground below, he froze. His eyes went wide and his legs and arms tensed. The confident smile that he had once had on his face was now gone, replaced by an uneasy frown. (Y/N) and Sam’s eyes were on him, watching him intently, waiting. After a minute or so of Dean standing there, not moving, (Y/N) shook his head and cupped his hands around his mouth again. 

“What are you doing?” He called out. 

(Y/N)’s voice caused Dean to jump and turn his gaze towards him. He opened his mouth, attempting to speak. 

“I-I can’t get down,” Dean said with a shaky tone. 

“What do you mean you ‘can’t get down’?” 

“I can’t get down! I-It’s too high!” 

“You were the one that wanted to get up there!” 

“I know I was, will you just shut up!” Dean’s voice came out cracked and high-pitched. 

(Y/N) closed his mouth and stood there, watching as Dean struggled to get down on his knees. As he attempted to move his leg down towards the trunk of the car, he felt the car shift. (Y/N) and Sam jumped when they heard the metal scrape against the car below. Dean let out a yelp and pulled his leg back. His fists were clenched onto nothing, knuckles a ghostly white color. His face was noticeably red and tears began to form in his eyes. 

“G-Go get Bobby!” Dean called down. 

“You can get down, Dean! You’ll be okay!” 

“No! I’m not okay!” Dean let out a sob. “It’s too high! The car’s going to fall. Go get Bobby,” Dean’s voice was as shaky as his hands were. 

(Y/N) looked down at Sam. “Go get Bobby, Sammy.” 

Sam’s eyes were wide with worry as he nodded slightly. He turned and made a mad dash towards the house. “Bobby! Bobby!” He cried out. 

(Y/N) then turned his attention back to Dean, who seemed like he was seconds away from having a breakdown.

“Dean! You’re going to be okay! Just come down the same way you went up.” 

“N-No!” Dean shook his head rapidly. 

“Quit being a baby!”

“I’m not a baby!” 

“Then why are you crying like one!?” 

“Will you shut up!?” 

(Y/N) stopped talking and let out a huff. Not even a minute later, Sam came running out towards them, Bobby quickly behind him. Bobby ran his fingers through his hair stressfully. 

“What the Hell have you idjits done?” 

It took thirty minutes of coaxing for Dean to be able to climb down two of the cars before Bobby had to make his way towards him and carry him down the rest of the way. Needless to say, Dean wasn’t in the mood to play any type of game with us after that, especially when I began to tease him mercilessly about his crying. I still tease him to this day about it, comparing him to a cat that had been stuck in a tree. Bobby was known as ‘Firefighter Bobby’ for a good month-and-a-half after that. 

We were forbidden from climbing on the cars anymore, which none of us seemed to have a problem with. As for my teasing, I had managed to get in trouble with Bobby once he caught me and was forced to help him organize the study while Sam and Dean went out to play. It wasn’t very fun, at the time, but I had learned a lot more about hunting during that punishment, so some good came out of it. 

To this day, Dean still likes to pretend as if it never happened. Or, if it did happen, then it was either Sam or me that needed to be rescued. Not him. He never needed to be rescued (according to him). Still, Sam and I can remember this vividly. It’s two against one, Dean. 

So much for ‘King of the Cars’.

OCTOBER 1989

Sam was always gullible when he was a kid. He grew out of it in his early teens and became more aware of how deceitful people could be. Before that, however, he was fun to mess with. I’m his big brother, I have a right to mess with him. 

I still do, but it’s not as easy. 

Sam was the type to believe anything that anyone wanted to tell him. Even if it was the most outlandish thing possible. I was able to convince him that unicorns were real and that everyone got one when they turned ten. When he asked Bobby what kind of unicorn he had gotten for his tenth birthday, Bobby told him the truth right then and there. He was so disappointed that he didn’t talk to me for about a week. I felt bad, at least a little bit. But the other part of me thought it was the funniest thing I had ever done to him at the time. 

That was when he was four. 

I still ask him what he wants his unicorn to look like. 

He hasn’t given me a straight answer yet. 

Around the age of six, Sam had started to let his hair grow out. Granted, everyone’s hair was growing out at that point - my father had neglected to get us any type of haircut for a little over six months - but out of all of ours, Sam’s was the longest. Dean had started calling him ‘Samantha’ at some point, which irritated Sam to no end. I decided to take a different approach, however. 

Back then, we knew about monsters. We knew about the different kinds of monsters that our father fought but didn’t know a lot about them. We knew their names, what they looked like, and common signs for each of them. One thing we didn’t know about certain monsters was how people were turned into them. 

So, with this limited knowledge in the back of my head, one dreary fall night, while our father was away on a hunt and Dean was out finding us some food, I decided to play a little…prank, if you will, on Sammy. 

Sam’s eyes were glued to the television screen. A rerun of Alf played that he was completely enamored with. Meanwhile, (Y/N)’s eyes were attached to something other than the show. He watched as Sam brushed his long locks out of his face occasionally. Sam tucked some hair behind his ear, but it didn’t stay there long before it fell in his face. His hair was down to his chin by then and (Y/N) had to admit that he was more irritated about the length than Sam was. 

When the show moved to a commercial break, Sam clenched his eyes shut and stretched his arms over his head. He glanced over at (Y/N) and furrowed his brows. 

“What’re you looking at?” 

“That hair,” (Y/N) gestured to the top of his head. 

Sam frowned. “What’s wrong with my hair?” 

“It’s long…too long,” (Y/N) narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He reached over and gently grabbed a piece of Sam’s hair before letting it go, allowing the strand to fall against Sam’s chubby cheek. 

“Dad said he was going to get it cut soon.” 

“Yeah, I know, but…it’s not like mine and Dean’s hair. It’s so much longer. It’s kind of like…” (Y/N) pursed his lips as he studied the top of his head. “Werewolf hair. Maybe you’re turning into a werewolf.”

Sam’s eyes slowly widened as he sat up straight and shifted uneasily in his seat. “I-I’m not turning into a werewolf.” 

“I don’t know, it sure seems like it.” 

Sam reached up and hesitantly ran his fingers through his hair. “How…how would I know if I’m turning into a werewolf?” 

“What? You don’t know the signs?” 

Sam shook his head. (Y/N) scoffed. 

“Come on, Sammy! You have to know the classic signs!” (Y/N) exclaimed as he leaned forward, a small smirk playing on the corner of his lips. “The long hair, the way your fingernails curve, the hair between your eyebrows, and your sharp teeth.” 

Sam brought his hands up to his face, his fingers roaming around his features. Quickly, he got off the couch and ran towards the motel bathroom, shoving the door open so hard that it bounced off the wall. (Y/N) followed after his brother. He watched as Sam studied himself in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair, brushed a single finger down his nose, studied the curvature of his fingernails, and bared his teeth. His eyes widened as soon as they landed on his sharp canines. Sam frowned and pushed his bottom lip out. It began to wobble as tears appeared in the corner of his eyes. He turned to (Y/N).

“I-I don’t want to be a werewolf!” He whimpered. 

(Y/N) leaned against the doorframe and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, Sammy. It looks like you can’t help it.” 

“B-But,” Sam turned and looked at himself in the mirror for a second before turning back to his brother. “But what if hunters come after me?” 

“Hey!” (Y/N) shook his head as he walked closer to Sam. He placed both of his hands on his shoulders, bending down so that he was at eye level with his little brother. “That is something you never have to worry about. Dean, Dad, and I will protect you.” 

Tears streaked down his red cheeks and he nodded. “Do you think Dad and De know?” 

(Y/N) sighed and pursed his lips, moving his hands off of Sam so that he could place them on his hips. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. They haven’t said anything about it, yet. But, I think you should tell them. That way, they will be able to protect you.” 

“I-I don’t wanna tell them.” 

“Why not?” 

“What if they don’t like me anymore because I’m a werewolf?” 

(Y/N) shook his head and gave a comforting smile. “Sammy, they’re always going to love you, werewolf or not.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

Sam glanced down at the ground, his shoulders slumped. (Y/N) could see how much the news had upset his brother. He didn’t want him to be in hysterics by the time Dean got back, so he thought of the next best thing to try and cheer him up. 

“You know, a lot of people think that werewolves are the bad guys,” he began. “But you could be the first-ever werewolf hunter! You could be the one werewolf that protects humans from bad things! Kind of like a…uh…a werewolf superhero!” 

Sam looked up at him and raised his brows, cocking his head to the side. “A werewolf superhero?” 

“Yeah!” 

“Like a…a werewolf Batman?” A smile slowly appeared on Sam’s lips. 

“Just like a werewolf Batman.” 

The worry quickly left Sam’s face as he looked at himself in the mirror. He studied his face once more. “Maybe being a werewolf isn’t so bad,” he shrugged. “Thank you, (Y/N).” 

“Anytime, Sammy,” 

Sam turned and wrapped his arms tightly around (Y/N) in a bone-crushing embrace. “I love you.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face. Whether it was from the sentimental words or the devious nature behind them, he wasn’t sure. He wrapped his arms around Sam as well, pulling him close. 

“I love you, too, Sammy.” 

For six months, six whole months, Sam kept the little secret quiet. He would mention it to me from time to time. Ask me questions about lycanthropy in general or question me about whether or not I thought Dean and our Dad knew about it. I would always comfort him, tell him that I didn’t think they knew anything, and we would go about our day-to-day lives. 

Eventually, it got to a point where I was hounding him to tell Dean and Dad about it. Sam was hesitant at first. He was scared about how they would react. I was able to talk him through it, though, and, one night, he sat all of us down so he could tell us. 

The look on Dean and Dad’s faces? 

Pure confusion. 

And I thought it was the funniest thing at the time. 

I had to hold back my laughter as I watched my father deal with Sam and explain that he couldn't be a werewolf if he had not been bitten by one. Sam was in hysterics at that point. He was crying and sobbing and while our father was trying his best to comfort him, I was trying my best to keep it together. At that moment, I patted myself on the back for the longest-lasting prank. 

The celebration didn’t last long. When Sam told our father that I was the one who told him about it, he was furious. I swear, I saw his eyes turn red. I won’t go into too many details about my punishment, but it was one of the worst ones that I got. Even now, I don’t think that it was what I deserved. But it happened, and I can’t necessarily change it. 

I couldn’t sit down for a week. 

The punishment didn’t stop me from teasing Sam about it, but it was quick to make me stop when Sam told me he was going to tell Dad. Now that Dad’s dead, Sam doesn’t have anyone to tattle to. I can say whatever I want. 

Cut that damn hair, Sammy. You look like a werewolf. 

JANUARY 2010

We always had some type of celebration for our birthdays. When we got older, that is. Not all of them necessarily had a cake and presents, but they were celebrations nonetheless whether we acknowledged it or not. Whenever Dean has a birthday, his favorite place to go is at any local bar that we were closest to at the time. Sam and I would switch back and forth on who would be the designated driver so that the other one could celebrate properly with Dean. On Dean’s 31st birthday, I was the designated driver. 

And, man, was I glad I was. 

We were in Colorado after just finishing a hunt. It was a smaller bar near the far northeast corner of the state. It was a little busy, given it was a Sunday, but most of the clientele seemed to consist of regulars who would come in after their nine-to-five. I honestly couldn’t tell you what the theme of the bar was. The decoration scattered on the walls was a mix of historical pieces from the town we were in, rock 'n roll memorabilia, and different pieces from various Colorado sports teams. 

Dean was plastered, and Sam wasn’t too far behind him. It had been a while since I saw the two of them get that drunk, but we were under a lot of stress at the time. I was jealous that I wasn’t the one who was able to get drunk enough to forget, but I figured I would make up for it later. 

The bar began to shut down around one in the morning. The bartender had shouted for 'last call' half an hour before. I knew that I had to get Sam and Dean back to the motel before we got kicked out. It wasn’t that hard to find Sam, he had refused to leave his seat at the table the entire night. Trying to find Dean, on the other hand, reminded me of reading those ‘Where’s Waldo?’ books in the school library when I was younger. 

Let me tell you when I did find him…

Oh boy. 

(Y/N) sighed as he ran a hand down his face. His eyes drooped and he felt as if his body weighed a thousand pounds. After scouring the entire bar to find his brother for the past thirty minutes, he concluded that he deserved a bed for himself when they got back to the motel. Sam and Dean could share a bed, or sleep on the floor. He didn’t care. He just wanted to get back and go to sleep. 

(Y/N) walked back up to the table that the three brothers had shared. Sam sat in his seat, back slouched over, his head laid on the wooden surface. His mop of hair was brushed carelessly over his face. (Y/N) placed a hand on his back, leaning close to him. 

“Sammy,” he said, his voice low. Sam visibly jumped as he looked up at him with tired, glazed eyes. “Have you seen Dean?” 

“Um…” Sam trailed, voice slurred, and pursed his lips. “Dean…Dean…” Before he could continue, Sam broke into a weak fit of laughter, his shoulders shaking. “Dean sounds a lot like ‘bean’. He looks like a bean because he’s short.”  

(Y/N) pressed his lips together and patted Sam’s back. “He sure does, buddy. Thanks for the help.” He spoke sarcastically. 

He stood up straight and turned around, his back now facing Sam. He ran his fingers through his hair as he looked around the almost empty bar. There were still a couple of regulars scattered around here and there, but most of them were clearing out. No sign of Dean, though. (Y/N) had to wonder how his brother could get lost in such a small place, but Dean had managed to do the impossible. Again. 

In front of him, (Y/N) could see the bartender from earlier. She had walked around the small U-shaped bar and was making her way towards him. Before she could get closer, (Y/N) shook his head. He held his hands up slightly. 

“I know you made 'last call' a while ago, and I’m sorry for staying, ma’am. I’m just trying to find my idiot brother.” He said with an apologetic tone. 

“Well, that was actually why I was coming over here.” She said and placed her hands on her hips. “There’s some guy in the back and I was wondering if he belonged to you.” 

(Y/N)’s shoulders slouched as he let out a sigh. “I am so sorry. I’ll pay for anything he broke or stole.” 

“No, he didn’t break or steal anything. He’s doing…something else.” 

(Y/N) furrowed his brows as an uneasy feeling began to make its way to his stomach. “What is he doing?” 

She gestured back towards the bar. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?”

Hesitantly, he gave a nod and followed the bartender. She took him around the bar and to the back. Past the saloon-style swinging doors, a couple of feet into the supply room, (Y/N) came face to face with a sight he would never be able to forget. 

Dean leaned against one of the many metal shelves. Even with something to lean on, his body swayed back and forth, indicating just how intoxicated he was. A goofy grin was present on his red face. One hand was balled into a fist and placed on his hip while the other one hung casually off of the shelf he leaned on. Beside him stood a mannequin, clad in an aged Colorado Rockies uniform paired with a baseball cap featuring the same team’s logo. (Y/N)’s jaw dropped. 

Dean was flirting with a mannequin. 

The bartender smirked. “He’s been back here for the last hour. I was going to kick him out, but I listened to how sweet he was being to Manny and I felt bad for him, so I just let him stay.” She nodded and leaned against the door, propping it open. 

“Manny?” (Y/N) questioned, not taking his eyes off of his brother. 

“Yeah. Manny the Mannequin. It’s this damn mannequin that the owner bought for twenty bucks when the local Sears closed down. He needed to put his stupid baseball outfit somewhere and he thought the best thing to do would be to put it on Manny and leave it in a bar. The regulars weren’t too nice to Manny, so we had to put him in the back here. It seems like your brother somehow snuck past me and found him.” 

“I…I am so sorry about this.” (Y/N) gestured to his brother, who had begun to fiddle with the hem of the Rockies shirt. 

The bartender snorted. “Trust me, this isn’t the worst thing a customer has done to poor Manny. Just get him out of here.” 

“Yes, ma’am. Right away,” (Y/N) mumbled. 

He stepped into the room just as the bartender turned and walked out. As he got closer, Dean began to giggle. 

“You know, you have the prettiest eyes. Has anyone ever told you that? Oh, come on, I bet a lot of people tell you that. They’re like…like, um…” Dean paused and stared down at the ground. 

(Y/N) quirked a brow and placed his hands on his hips. When he did, he felt the outline of his phone in his jeans pocket. A smirk made its way onto his face as he took out his phone. He knew that he could use this moment for entertainment purposes later. He began to record his brother as he cleared his throat. Dean jumped and turned to (Y/N), eyes wide.

“Hey, Dean. What’re you doing?” (Y/N) asked cautiously. 

A smile broke out on Dean’s face as soon as he recognized his brother’s voice. “Oh! (Y/N), I want you to meet someone,” he slurred as he wrapped an arm around Manny’s shoulders, pulling the mannequin closer to him. “This is Cozy. She’s…she’s the most beautiful woman here and we’re going to get married.” 

“Are you?” 

“Yeah! Isn’t that right, baby?” Dean giggled as he reached up and poked Manny’s nose. “She’s the love of my life.” 

“Well, I am so happy for you, Dean. She looks…beautiful.” (Y/N) was trying his hardest to keep from laughing. 

“Thank you.” Dean smiled proudly. 

“I think you’ve talked to Cozy enough for one day, though. I think we need to get back to the motel.” 

Dean frowned. “But I don’t wanna. I wanna stay with Cozy.” 

“I know, buddy,” (Y/N) walked over and placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “But Cozy has to go home, too. You can call her in the morning. Plus, we have pie back at the motel.” 

Dean gasped dramatically. “Pie?” 

“Yeah, pie,” (Y/N) pulled Dean away from the mannequin and wrapped an arm around his torso. 

“Pecan?” 

“Yes, Dean, pecan pie.” 

“Oh, (Y/N), you know, you’re the best brother a guy could have.” Dean leaned his head against (Y/N)’s shoulder as the two of them stumbled out of the back room and towards their table. Dean let out another gasp as soon as he saw Sam. He patted Sam sloppily on his shoulder. “Sammy! Sammy! I met a girl!” 

Sam groaned and lifted his head. He looked between (Y/N) and Dean, narrowing his eyes. “That’s not a girl! That’s your brother, stupid.” Sam grumbled. 

(Y/N) sighed and rolled his eyes. “Come on, guys. Let’s get back to the motel before you pass out on me.” 

There was no pie back at the motel. I just know that’s one of the only things that could get Dean’s attention. 

Thankfully, both of them waited until they were in the car to pass out. I had tried my hardest to wake them up, but they weren’t budging. In the end, they both slept in the backseat of the Impala while lying on top of one another. It seemed like it would be extremely uncomfortable, but I wouldn’t know. I was able to go back into the room and relax in my own bed, in a place that was peaceful and quiet. No snoring, no moving around, nothing. It was some of the best sleep I ever had. 

In the morning, when Dean and Sam woke up, they had to ruin my peaceful sleep by knocking on the door. They were a mess, both completely out of it and hungover. The smell of vomit stunk up the room so bad that I swear it’s still there if we were to go back and check. I got them painkillers, got them some water, and made sure they were nice and fed. When we were all sitting down and finally eating, I let them have it.

Oh, the teasing. 

So much teasing. 

I showed them both the video of Dean flirting with Manny. Dean grumbled and tried to get me to delete the video while Sam was trying his best not to laugh his ass off - he really couldn’t because of how bad his head probably hurt. Throughout our conversation, I swear, whenever I would look over at Dean, I could see his cheeks turn pink. I knew I had the perfect blackmail. 

I still have the video. 

You know, just in case. 

APRIL 2014

Everyone who knows Dean understands just how much of a serial flirt he is. If it breathes and if he finds it attractive, he will flirt with it (the story with Manny should make that pretty obvious). I, on the contrary, know how to flirt, but I don’t do it as often as he does. Sure, I flirt with people now and then to get my fix, but it’s not something that I do every time I go out. 

Sam, on the other hand, is the complete opposite of Dean. 

Sam was always the type to be awkward around people he found attractive, even when he was a kid. The number of times I would see him in the hallways of schools trying to talk to girls was hilarious, but he carried that awkwardness into adulthood. I admit, a couple of years ago, that boy had some moves. He knew all the right things to say and do to make anyone swoon for him. I was sort of jealous of him, and I could tell that Dean was proud of him, in a way. 

However, with how much has been going on the past couple of years, I’ve noticed that Sam has gotten a little rusty when it comes to flirting. There has been more than one occasion where he received a pretty nasty glare or a drink to the face followed by some rather colorful language. At first, I felt bad for him, but then it started getting funny. As he kept trying, the conversations he would have with people would last longer and longer than the last time. It still took him a while to leave with anyone, but baby steps. Baby steps. 

There was one time earlier this year when I thought he was going to get a happy ending. It was going so well! I had to admit that I had been spying on him throughout his interaction, just out of sheer curiosity. We were celebrating after a hunt in Arizona. Nothing too big, just a basic salt and burn with a basic bar afterward. It was Saturday and the bar seemed like it was packed. We were lucky to find a table. Thankfully we did because my feet had ached that night from all the digging. 

While I rested at the table, Dean went off to try and snag his own after-hunt reward while Sam walked over to the bar to chat up some cute brunette he had seen. The entire time, I entertained myself by watching him from a distance. Everything was going so well. 

Unfortunately, for Sam, he let his awkwardness get the best of him. 

“I swear, none of the good-lookin’ ones are single,” Dean grumbled as he took his seat back at the table, a defeated look on his face. 

“Maybe you should lower your standards?” (Y/N) shrugged as he took a sip of beer, his eyes glued to his younger brother across the bar. “I mean, they have to lower their standards to sleep with you, don’t they? It’s about time you do the same.” 

“Fuck you,” Dean scoffed a sipped his beer. 

“Sorry, not interested.” 

Dean rolled his eyes before he looked at (Y/N), noticing his gaze. He furrowed his brows. “The Hell are you looking at, anyway?” 

Dean turned his head to look in the same direction as (Y/N), shifting his head to look over people as he attempted to see what had grabbed his brother’s attention. (Y/N) licked his lips and smirked. 

“Looks like Sammy might get some tonight.” He said. 

“No shit? Where?” 

“At the far end of the bar. He’s talking to the babe in the blue dress.” 

Once Dean stopped moving his head, he was able to see Sam and the woman standing at the corner of the bar. Both of them were facing one another. The woman leaned up against the bar while Sam had his hands placed awkwardly in his pockets. Both of them had smiles on their faces as they talked. 

“Damn, she’s hot,” Dean mumbled. 

“I know, right? He needs to take his hands out of his pockets, though. He looks like a fucking shy middle-schooler asking his crush out to the dance.” 

“Eh,” Dean waved him off. “He always looks like that.” 

“Yeah, I know, and have you seen him leave with anyone recently?” 

“Point taken. So, what? You’ve just been watching this whole time?” 

“I need to keep myself entertained somehow. Not in the mood for a one-night-stand, so I have to make my own fun.” 

Dean gave a short nod before he continued to watch Sam. (Y/N) and Dean sat in silence as they watched Sam talk with the woman, mumbling back and forth to one another. As the two of them talked, Sam became visibly more comfortable. His movements became more animated and he pulled one of his hands out of his pockets. Both Dean and (Y/N) were practically sitting on the edge of their seats, their drinks completely forgotten about. 

After ten agonizing minutes of watching, it was clear that Sam had become completely relaxed. They continued to talk as the lively bar moved around them. It was almost as if no one existed but the two of them. They were so engrossed in their conversation that Sam neglected to see the serving tray full of beer that was sitting down on the bar next to them. Finally, Sam took his other hand out of his pocket. He moved to lean on the bar, but his elbow never touched the polished bartop. 

Instead, his elbow leaned against the edge of the serving tray, knocking it over. The tray and glasses clattered to the ground, sending glass particles across the floor. Beer splashed on himself and the woman he had been talking to, who had a look of horror across her face. 

(Y/N)’s eyes widened as he quickly reached over and grabbed Dean’s arm. His jaw dropped and he immediately felt the laughter bubble up inside of his chest. He covered his mouth with his other hand and turned towards Dean. Dean snorted and turned his body so that he was facing (Y/N), his own eyes wide and hand covering his mouth as well. Both Dean and (Y/N) shook as they tried to contain the laughter. 

They sat there, attempting to hide their amusement as Sam walked back over to the table, a defeated look on his face. He sat down, grabbed the beer that he had once forgotten about, and took a long swig. When he saw Dean and (Y/N) practically doubled over, he raised a brow. 

“What’re you two laughing at?” He asked as a small smirk played on the corner of his lips. 

(Y/N) turned away from Dean, pressing his lips together as he placed both of his hands on his beer. His gaze averted to the table, unable to look at Sam without laughing. He shook his head. 

“Nothing…” he spoke in a broken, high-pitched voice. “Nothing, nothing. You wouldn’t get it.” He waved off and took a drink. 

Sam looked towards Dean, who took a drink as well. “Yeah, you wouldn’t get it,” he paused. “Just like you didn’t get that chick’s number.” 

(Y/N) snorted as he let out a laugh, his shoulders bouncing. Sam’s smirk vanished and was replaced with a deep frown. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he slammed his cup down on the table and stood. 

“Real mature, you guys,” he grumbled, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. 

“Oh, come on, Sammy!” Dean exclaimed. “You almost had her!” 

Sam rolled his eyes as he put his arms into his jacket sleeves. “Hey, Sammy, look on the bright side!” (Y/N) began. “At least you were able to get her wet somehow.” 

(Y/N) howled and slapped his hand on the table, Dean following suit. One of (Y/N)'s arms was curled against his stomach as he leaned forward. Sam glared at him. 

“I’m going back to the motel.” He growled out before he turned sharply and walked away before Dean or (Y/N) could say anything. 

By the time (Y/N) and Dean were done laughing, tears were rolling down their faces and their cheeks were bright red. Dean used his thumb and index finger to wipe away the tears while (Y/N) used the collar of his shirt. Once they were both settled, they leaned back in their seats. Dean shook his head. 

“We really need to get that kid a hooker or something,” He finally said. 

“I second that,” (Y/N) nodded and raised his glass. 

Dean raised his glass as well before they both drank. 

Sam didn’t talk to us for the rest of the night. He didn’t talk to us for the next couple of days until we got back to the bunker. Dean and I would try to get him to talk to us about something, anything, even the nerdy shit that he’s into, but he wouldn’t budge. On the drive back, he was wearing his headphones the entire time, so that whenever Dean or I would try to talk to him, he had some type of excuse as to why he didn’t talk to us. 

Little asshole. 

Wish I had headphones that I could just pop in to ignore the two of them. 

Maybe I’ll pick some up? 

Of course, I felt bad for the kid. He looked like he was having a good time, but you should have seen the look on the woman’s face when the beer spilled all over her. It was priceless! I had wished I held it together long enough to be able to see what had happened afterward, but if the look on her face had any correlation with her reaction, it probably wasn’t a good one. 

Don’t feel too bad for the kid, though, he got laid a couple of months ago. He’s fine, basically back to normal. 

Still, Dean and I like to bring it up occasionally. Sam has stopped getting so angry about it and has just resorted to rolling his eyes and ignoring us. One of these days, he’s going to get the balls to use one of our embarrassing pick-up attempts against us to shut us up. 

God knows he probably has more instances of us than we do of him.

 

OCTOBER 2014

Jesus, my wrist hurts. Do people normally write this much in their journals? Certainly not at once, right? I have to be setting a new World Record. I wonder if there’s a world record for something like this? I’ll need to look it up later. 

Trust me, though, I have yet to scratch the surface of the embarrassing memories I have of my two brothers. These are just my favorite ones. If they decide to read this, I hope the two of you enjoyed going down memory lane! Maybe you’ll learn not to look at other people’s shit? 

Who am I kidding, of course you won’t. 

I’ll need to hide this somewhere else. Maybe my closet? Maybe in one of my bags? I can’t even think of a place where they won’t eventually find it. Whatever, I’ll hide it in the back of my closet and see where that gets me. 

The bunker door just opened. Sounds like Sam and Dean are back from the supply run. I’ll need to make this short and simple so I can help them put the groceries away before they start bitching at me. 

Until next time,

Stay safe. (That STILL sounds bad. God, I’m terrible at ending these things.)

[terra-feminarum]

I have complex feelings about the US. On November 5th it was night here and I saw nightmares, and woke up several times to check how the election is going.

I live on the other side of the Atlantic, in a completely different culture, different climate. Your language is completely unlike my native tongue, yet I write it and I think in it, even though I can hardly pronounce the words right.

When I was a little girl, I knew what US American fire hydrants and mailboxes looked like, and I tried to write songs in English. For my generation, our native tongue was embarrassing, and not many dared to admit they listened to music with Finnish lyrics, rather than English.

More and more of my words have been replaced by English, and the youth of today have replaced so much of our original vocabulary it seems like they can't really express themselves fully in Finnish anymore. We are ashamed of who we are, and we'd love to be American, or rather, we'd love to be the kind of Americans we see in the media. Obviously Americans didn't instill this shame in us, our sense of self was crushed before you came along. But there was this cultural void and the America flowed in to fill the emptiness.

In my young adulthood, I adopted the US American way of thinking about politics and social justice, and so did many others. I can't still put it into words well, but it has become clear we just took ideas straight from another context and forgot where we are and what happens here. My friends claim to be afraid of the police which is absurd, and they tell not to call the police to avoid violence, which just doesn't happen. We talk about whether having dreadlocks is ok while Finnish Roma have been ostracized for 500 years and it's considered more or less normal. We took the idea that white people are an oppressive monolith and forgot we ourselves had been under the rule of foreign people for so long we forgot our own culture and became severely alcoholic, we forgot we have been on this land for aeons and adopted the idea we're the invaders (we are, when it comes to Sápmi - but otherwise we know this land). Of course we adopted your ideas of sex and gender, too, while our language doesn't even have separate words for these concepts. We put English pronouns in our social media bios even though the idea of gendered pronouns doesn't make any sense.

We took your polarized politics and now some find their ideas from your right, and some from your left, considering it normal to not being able to have a conversation with a person you disagree with. We don't have a two-party system but now young people almost act like we do.

Most of my life, I've been watching American movies and series, while having only seen a couple of Swedish films, and zero to none Russian or Estonian movies. I can't speak the languages of my neighbors, and I don't have nuanced understanding of our complex shared histories.

A while back I met a person from the United States, and it was uncanny. She really spoke in the soft buzzing sounds I've heard on podcasts, and which to me, is the language of politics and the language of entertainment. And of course, she expected us to speak to her in her language. In a way, US is an abstract concept to me, a world laid on top of my real world. Things happen in relation to the US.

Yesterday I pondered what it would be like to stop following anything that happens in the US, and focus on what happens locally. I have empathy for you there, but why are you on a such a pedestal when there are Russians living under Putin right next to me? I don't mean you don't matter, but I wonder why do you matter so much more than every other nation? When I wondered should I quit following US Americans on social media, a friend laughed at me like I was an idiot and asked me why I'm not following the squirrels in the forest next to us.

[baileypie-writes]

How about Smile Precure villains with smart but shy S/O? Romantic or platonic depends on the character.

A/N ~ Sure! I only did Joker and Wolfrun, bc they’re the only ones I write for(I decided not to write for Akaoni anymore). Hope you enjoy!

~Joker and Wolfrun with a Smart but Shy Parnter~

~~~💜~~~🖤~~~💙~~~

Fandom: Smile Precure!

Fanfic Type: Headcanons

Reader: Gender neutral

Relationship: Romantic

Characters Included: Joker and Wolfrun

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG

Warnings: Akaoni slander

~Masterlist~

~Smile Precure! Masterlist~

Guide: The purple dialogue is Joker, the blue dialogue is Wolfrun, and the uncolored dialogue is Reader.

‼️Glitter Force stans DNI‼️

~~~🃏~~~🖤~~~🐺~~~

~Joker~

~~~🃏~~~🃏~~~🃏~~~

~ Joker is quite the smart man himself, but not the type that you are. You’re good at math and science, he’s just good at messing with people’s heads. So he’s impressed by your knowledge.

“I must admit my dear, you are quite the smart cookie.”

“Oh… yeah. I guess I’ve always been smart.”

“No need to be embarrassed. It’s quite impressive.”

“Oh… thanks.”

~ He finds it a bit of a shame how shy you are. He believes that someone with as big of a brain as you should be showing it off. And that just what he encourages you to do. He always tells you how you should go out and show your knowledge to the world.

“Look Joker, I don’t like attention. So I don’t want to go show off or whatever.”

“But you deserve it! Most people don’t have the brain capacity to store so much knowledge. In fact, maybe you should help them become smarter. You should try Akaoni first.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. Akaoni could use- wait, no!”

~ Joker tries his best to get you out of your shell. He mostly does this by asking many questions, getting you to talk more and more until you begin rambling. He finds it adorable how flustered you get once you’ve realized how much you’ve been talking.

“-and I find this theory interesting because- oh wait. How long have I been talking for? Oh gosh…”

“It’s alright, my dear. I don’t mind. Now, what were you saying?”

“Wait, are you getting me to talk on purpose?”

“Of course not! Now, why do you find that theory interesting?”

~ When with others, he often brags about your knowledge for you. He lets people know how incredibly smart you are. He only lets up once you let him know how much he’s embarrassing you. He apologizes, but still believes you deserve to be known for your smarts.

“You lot don’t have the brains to even comprehend (name)’s knowledge. Just hearing their intelligence would put you into a coma!”

“Joker… please.”

“Honestly, they could defeat the Pretty Cure without even lifting a finger! They could just outsmart them!”

“Oh gosh…”

~~~🃏~~~🃏~~~🃏~~~

~Wolfrun~

~~~🐺~~~🐺~~~🐺~~~

~ For the most part, Wolfrun couldn’t care less how smart you are. Knowledge isn’t something he worries about. But, while he won’t admit it, he’s pretty impressed, and even intimidated by your big brain.

“Hey, when did we get grapes? Whatever, guess I’ll eat them.”

“Wolfrun no! You’ll die!”

“What? What are you talking about? It’s just grapes.”

“Grapes are deadly to dogs!”

“Ugh. I’m a wolf, (name).”

“Wanna risk death?”

“….no.”

~ He finds it almost offensive how you barely talk, despite how much you have stored in your mind. If he didn’t know you so well, he’d think that you were using your shyness as a cover. But still, sometimes he fears that you’re planning something.

“What are you planning in that big brain of yours?”

“Planning? I’m not planning anything.”

“You sure?”

“Wolfrun….”

~ Unlike Joker, he doesn’t try to get you to talk or become less shy. He just lets you be. He honestly prefers this, because that way, he can do all the talking. He likes to talk.

“I mean, I know Akaoni’s stupid, but come on! Even a five year old wouldn’t make that mistake!”

“Haha! Yeah.”

“Huh. You know, you really don’t talk much more than when we met.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m just not a big talker.”

“Eh, not like it matters. Anyway,-“

~ Like mentioned before, Wolfrun can be a bit intimidated by your knowledge. He automatically feels this way when anyone is better than him at anything. So while he doesn’t like being proven wrong, he knows not to challenge your brain.

“C’mon, (name). There’s no way that’s true!”

“Wolfrun, I’m telling you it is!”

“No way!”

“Do I need to remind you how often I’m right?”

“…no.”

~~~🐺~~~🐺~~~🐺~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[magnusbae]

13 books

What’s up readers?! How about a little show and tell? Answer these 13 questions, tag 13 lucky readers and if you’re feeling extra bookish add a shelfie! Let’s Go!

Tagged by @cuubism Thank you!! 💖 Heads up: if you're tagged, you don't need to read it alllll even if you do want to participate 😌

1) The Last book I read:

I'm pretty sure it was Tress of the Emerald Sea, what a delight!

2) A book I recommend:

.... The Way of Kings... (The Stormlight Archive)

3) A book that I couldn’t put down:

The second book of The Stormlight Archive, Words of Radiance had me by my throat like nothing else. wow. 👏🏻

4) A book I’ve read twice (or more):

Listen. I'll list something other than The Stormlight Archive just because this is getting embarrassing. The books I used to regularly reread were: HP, Eragon and Assassin's Apprentice. (full series rereads, crossing the 10 each) 😌

5) A book on my TBR:

I have a hefty amount of books I bought and never read. Ranging from classics to cheap fantasy-- but alas, my brain is fixated on the other author who doesn't disappoint me and so I just stick to his books XD

Some of the books sitting on my ineffective 'shame you into reading' shelf are: Captive Prince, the rest of the Wolfsong series, the.... shadowhunters books... the new trilogy about Fitz which I have in hardcovers yet never read. And some... others...

6) A book I’ve put down:

One of the reasons I am avoidant of taking on new books at all is because I have a very hard time putting down books I started. I'll suffer through entire series just for the few grains of gratification in the end. Or to... spitefullfy and confidently say it sucked balls.

However... three series managed to break me.

First being GoT, I just didn't manage to get through, not even 10 chapters. A true oddedity for me, but I just couldn't.

Second being The Witcher. I managed to power through like 4-5 books? And then I just couldn't do this to myself anymore. It was so, so, so not my vibe. (even while the pc game is about my most favorite game ever.) 🤷🏻‍♀️

And lastly, although I think I did finish the entire series before deciding that if ever a new book came out, I'll never read it, was the-- god what's the name of it... the First Law Trilogy – The Blade Itself etc from joe abercrombie. What a bleak series! Oh my god!

7) A book on my wish list:

My honest wishlist is just to keep on reading Brando Sando in my slow and enjoying-it phase... Although I admit that there's a large amount of those new spicy fantasy books apparently being released that shorts recommend and older folk rant about, so I naturally do want to check it out to see what's up with that but.... in truth... I just want to keep on enjoying Brando Sando XD

8) A favorite book from childhood:

I genuinely really loved Eragon. Oh and Artemis Fowl was all fun. I also really loved Tunnel in the Sky, like really.

9) A book you would give to a friend:

ngl it'll be an unapologetic The Way of Kings with big and passionate begging session of 'please give it a try' like for real.

In case any one of you is actually interested--- (you don't have to read this part) -inhales deeply-

The Way of Kings is a truly misleading book, that might leave you with the impression that the book is all about wars and kings but that is the furthest from the truth a description and a cover and a name can go.

It has fantasy, it has deep and rich world building, elaborate magic system that is deeply embedded into the story, culture and literal every single stone of the world. There's politics, culture, introspection, deep and varied characters, each reading like the main character of the story, having unique and vibrant personality and motivations.

It is not just a book, it is a work of true and deep love for the genre and writing in general. Beautifully done, enriching and enticing.

And what's most important for people who read too many books?

Hard to predict. It managed to pull the rug from underneath my feet in the most surprising and pleasing ways. Brandon writes in a way that is not 'shock just to shock' nor 'drama just for drama'. Every single scene is true, and forward. You always have everything right in front of you, the key is that you do not know how to put it all together just yet.

That can finally give that refreshing 'I don't know where it's heading but I'm enjoying the experience" I feel I had lost over the years, being able to recognize patterns too easily and predict writing intentions.

God, what a book! It does however have a rough learning curve, being such a massive world, it takes time to ease you in. Say about at least 5 chapters in at the minimum. On a personal note, I recommend the audiobooks read by kate reading and michael kramer, literally the best experience I've ever had, listening to those two bring to life every character and accent and scene, wow!

10) A book of poetry or lyrics that you own:

Come to think of it, I don't actually own any. Ha.

11) A nonfiction book you own:

I don't haha! Looking back, it's a lie, I have a few phycology books gathering dust in various hiding spots.

12) What are you currently reading:

........The Way of Kings....

13) What are you planning on reading next?

.....Words of Radiance.... haha. 😋

Y'all don't need to read all them answers in case you just want to answer it for yourself, or you can skip, too 😊😊😊

@mayhemspreadingguy, @pollyp, @nonbinary-nicolo, @msmongoose, @hardly-an-escape,

@ladymatt, @underacalicosky, @grapenehifics, @your-lordsherlockholmes-posts

@acedragontype, @palfriendpatine66, @heretolurkandnothingmore , @virahaus, @wallsinmyhead

@kittttycakes, @elcaballerodragon, @justsuffilike, @pumpkinkingsalem, @handahbear

@willameena

I am certain this is 13, I am certain. Cheers 💖💖💖

[mk-wizard]

The Acolyte was NOT a failure. It was failed. Hear me out.

Hello, friends. I want to talk seriously for a moment as a creator myself and a Star Wars fan who did not like the Acolyte. Specifically, I am here to stand up for the Acolyte despite it not being good in my opinion especially after seeing Mr. Pablo Gunner's rage review video where he shared many words of wisdom that Yoda would be proud of. I suggest watching it first.

The Acolyte itself was not a failure. It was failed by mistakes, taking risks that did not pay off and amateur writing. And to be honest, that's not the worst way a show can fail because in spite of its flaws, it doesn't change the fact that the series itself had many great ideas: a murder mystery, the villain's POV, calling out that not all Jedi are good, showing that there are other force users that fall into the gray area and so on. Plus, those fight scenes were worthy of being in the cinema and the characters you did connect with were great. In the end, I was rooting for Osha. In fact, I still am despite what she did in the end.

More importantly, just because the show was not good in my opinion doesn't mean it cannot be good in anyone's opinion. And beyond that, just because you don't like it doesn't mean you have the right to be mean about it. In fact, that shames the lore of Star Wars more than all the bad works altogether even the ones that had obvious resentment behind the writing (but that's another discussion). The quality of how you react to art is just as important as the quality of the art itself. Yes, I admit that Hollywood's obsession with DEI, representation and inclusion has gone too far and in fact hurts the very groups they're trying to uplift, but you don't solve one problem by creating another.

Also, the amount of badmouthing and hatemongering isn't just embarrassing anymore. It's mean. An artist doesn't deserve to be hung, crucified, sued, grounded or humiliated just because they made a work of art you didn't like. Heck, I believe that the cartoon Daria even addressed this. Kathleen Kennedy, Amandla Stenberg and all these other folks behind Star Wars are people with feelings and lives. Even if they act silly themselves or make bad decisions, they're people. And for many of these people, the Acolyte was their first ever project. Sadly, not everyone's first big project is a hit, but that's ok. What is not ok is beating people down. Now, I myself have given negative criticism on art pieces, BUT I criticize the art not the people and I try to be fair while removing anger from the equation. And I try not to be spiteful because as an artist myself, I've been there and know how it feels. Putting your art out in public is scary and I can tell you from experience that it doesn't get easier. However, it takes courage to do it in general and that within itself is admirable.

In closing, I want to add that I take absolutely no joy in how the Acolyte was not good. I wanted it to be good. I wanted Amandla Stenberg to do good. I even believed that its good points alone made it deserve a second chance with a season 2. I'm sad that this project didn't work out and I'm more sad for Amandla which is why I want her to still have a second chance in general. She has good ideas.

Please, be kind when media fails because kindness and support when people do wrong can inspire other people to be better. I mean, that was the whole point of Luke's struggle with Darth Vader. When everyone gave up on Vader, Luke still believed in him and fought to pull him out of the darkness with his heart, and he did it. Hence his famous line "I am a Jedi like my father before me." Luke was not talking about what his father used to be. It's what he believed he still was which was not only worth fighting for, but living up to as well hence why he showed mercy and support to Vader.

With that all said, let's all strive to be "Jedis" like your fathers, mothers, siblings and friends before us. Stop the hate and show support even when people fall to the dark side.

[fayeandknight]

I'm a huge proponent of sharing skills and knowledge, particularly of the how to do things for yourself variety. And when I share these with others I try to do so in a non judgemental way. A phrase I use a lot is "If no one taught you, how would you know?" And I mean it in the most genuine way. I understand that there are a lot things people just aren't taught anymore and I strongly feel that it is unfair to judge people for not knowing skills they were never taught.

All that to say one of my coworkers came in yesterday and asked how bad it was to drive with a flat tire. My immediate reaction was !!!! because it can lead to damage that's very costly especially given that a fix, even a temporary one, is relatively easy most of the time.

So I told my coworker I can help as I have a pack that supplies compressed air, can jump start a car, and has USB charging ports. (If you don't have one I highly recommend it. I got mine on sale for about $40 and it's come in handy more times than I can count.)

I asked what their tire pressure should be and they weren't sure. No problem, let me show you how to find that information. (There's a sticker inside the driver side door that lists front, rear, and spare tire pressure.) Then I walked my coworker through attaching the hose, how to set the pack to the appropriate number, and from there it just runs. It has a nice digital display and stops when it reaches the set air pressure. Very easy.

When we came back inside another coworker said they thought their tires might need air but wasn't sure. I took them out and explained how to find what their tires should be at and how to use a tire pressure gauge. We did end up putting air in one of the tires.

Back inside a third coworker admitted they had a tire that definitely needs air but they were embarrassed to get it fixed. So I went through showing them everything and filling their tire. This coworker told me their dad had told them how to do all this but the advice was hard to listen to. And I responded that I'm always happy to help. What I wanted to say is that I'm happy to explain things in a friendly way because things taught when the learner is made to feel like shit rarely stick in a helpful way. But that's too heavy for a light learning experience.

At the end of the day a different coworker started to complain to me about how younger people (they and I have about a decade on the majority of our coworkers) don't know how to help themselves. And I did my best to spin it as yes it's a shame they weren't taught these skills but fortunately you and I know them and are able to share them going forward. This stumped them for a bit before they eventually agreed with me.

I don't really have a neat way to wrap up this post. So I'm just going to reiterate that I'm always happy to pass along knowledge, provide assistance where I am able to, and ultimately help people help themselves in the areas I can.

[aevallare]

I fell out of love with Sarah J Maas books a while back, but watching her descent into madness and watching the fanbase build, then turn toxic, has been the most interesting thing to me. I guess you could say I grew as a reader alongside her as a writer, but keep in mind, I’m old now.

She started out as one of us, an online poster. I’m about to show my age here but she wrote Queen of glass, which would later become throne of glass series, on fictionpress in the mid 2000s. She definitely would have been a watpad girlie. I remember her responding and engaging with those of us who followed her and really taking feedback to heart. She was so excited when her book, eventually, got picked up and was especially keen on it being available on the kindle store. She would release novellas for kindle exclusives and was so proud it. I remember her so exited to write for DC comics at one point. She even made a little YouTube video with cat ears on asking us to read it. (she fumbled that so hard btw)

When the first few TOG books first came out remember there being no fanbase, no fan art, no online discussions on theories. Ghost town. As someone who had followed since the beginning it was just nice to see someone get flowers for their hard work. She still engaged with her followers, she loved specific fan artists and spreading their work on socials, and eventually started having her favourite fan artists make art for the physical copies of her books. Still a woman of the people. Still taking notes.

THEN ACOTAR, and something shifted in the wind. It’s odd to see a woman so keen on the YA genre just decide one day…. Nah I’m good. I think that’s the appeal. She was writing YA for the people who were beginning to age out of YA at the time. Since then the books exploded, and in my opinion, dropped in quality with every release. I can’t say when it was but at one point she just… removed her self. Stopped getting involved in discussions and engaging with people. Which professionally, smart move. Creatively though, keep in mind this woman THRIVED on online feedback at one point.

Ironically Sarah has since built her self a new reputation in the last 12 years of publishing. With hit after hit She’s a gatekeeper and a hater, who is mean to new and upcoming authors, won’t play well others, and won’t take an editors advice to save her life. I hear editors flat out refuse to work with her now which is so ironic.

I was once so happy to see her get popular, but now it’s just embarrassing to be associated with her new fans. Fans who bully an actress and fat shame her while gushing about their “kind of” feminist “icon” love interest… it’s not the group I want to be associated with anymore.

Anyway thanks for coming to the ted talk of a former SJM fan.

Love your work! Keep being you!

i admit, i'm not very dialed in to SJM as a sort of... institution. in my experience, this attitude toward editing is very common, especially in people who found success in the past. i don't edit on anywhere near this scale, but it's just so. who do you think helped you put the good in it. obviously this is your baby but i want your baby to blossom into a beautiful adult someday. please listen to me. please.

more power to her for success and clearly it's working for her. i'm throwing stones from the sewer up at mount olympus. i don't begrudge anyone liking her books. they're just not for me.

[redwayfarers]

How easy do you find it to write romantic (or sexual) dialogue for your OC? If they are in a relationship with a canon character then how difficult is it to keep these interactions faithful to their established character and communication style?

hi! ty for dropping by! <3 since you didn't specify a dude i will do both of them!! @ubejamjar asked the same thing so here's the reply, with receipts like a true lit graduate :>

for both nika and cass, it's a funny thing. they are both kinda inexperienced in varying degrees, so it shows in their dialogue! but they do it in different ways. i will focus on sexual dialogue here, because romantic one could take forever, especially for cass! nika has one (1) romantic admission in comparison lmao

cassander makes sexual jokes and innuendos all the fucking time, but for strictly funsies purposes; he can't admit to himself that he likes calling his partner daddy in bed directly, so he has to mock it, like a brat he is. here are a few examples from my fic just desserts:

“You’re too old for that. Seen too much. I think I just make it juicier. More acerbic. I’m bittering this old lemon again.” I shake my head and laugh. “Or a blueberry? Are blueberries acerbic? Hold on, I have to google that now.” I look around to where my phone is, but end up hitting my cheekbone into his temple. He is a warm pressure against my back, and his hands are sliding up and down my sides. “I do think this particular blueberry has a case of… blue balls.” Pause. “Please don’t laugh at that. It’ll shame us both.”    (...) Mel shakes with laughter. “You’re a delight, Cassander,” he says between laughs, and warmth spreads all over my chest. Some days I can hardly believe my luck that I met the two of them, and that we’d be here, living together, cracking silly jokes in what feels like domestic bliss. Not that I have anything to compare it to, but still. Then, Mel’s voice goes low, though still chipper. “Do you know how you’d be an even more of a delight?”  It makes me swallow. “Tasting the blueberry?”  “Hmm, not quite yet. I don’t think you’ve been a good enough boy for that, with all your offenses against language in the last 20 minutes.”  I fight the urge to squirm. “You’re really not holding back, huh,” I whisper and he kisses my cheek. His hand slides to my belly and promises to dip lower, but doesn’t. I look down to where his fingers are toying with my shirt. “So, however will I atone for my sins, Daddy ?” I know, I know, I shouldn’t sound so derisive about it, but it comes out as a half-mocking. Oops. 

nor can he directly admit he's extremely virginal in his exile au and in yet another fic, two snakes, one bed:

On my end of things, I’m jelly. I’m boneless. Bonerless and boneless. I can hardly control my breathing and I don’t dare open my eyes. I just came like a fucking teenager. From a simple handjob. Embarrassment settles in and brings out its daily newspaper. There’s something fragile inside my chest that can’t withstand looking at him as he laughs. I can already feel my eyes watering.  I close my legs and turn to the side. “I haven’t,” I whisper. I can feel his eyes bore into my back.  “Never?” He sounds flabbergasted.  “Never. Zero fucking experience. I led armies and could turn into a giant snake but I never had sex. Only me and my good old pal, the hand.” I’m just digging my grave further at this point, but I don’t care. It hardly matters anymore. He’ll mock me regardless. Any second now. 

this is fairly easy to write - as it is close to my own way of talking sometimes - but it is charming in that he's extreme about it, even in his narration, which is always a treat to write for me :> i like pairing him with more experienced people for that reason, so his inexperience stands out. it isn't terribly difficult for me to write those interactions, if i'm in a mood for writing a smutfic, because most of my ocs end up in relationships where their respective communication styles play off nicely with their partner's!

nika on the other hand doesn't have the witty spirit that cass does, and his whole thing is denial about his own feelings, a lot of his sexuality too, even more than simple fact that he's bisexual. his overall communication style is very obtuse and confusing, and he rarely says what he truly means in this very direct way, and even when he does say it, it comes out well and truly.. weird. he is emotionally constipated after all, and very much full of shame. here are some examples of what i mean, from my fics (you) restless son and how unreasonably in love i am with (everything) you (do):

“Do I have something on my… throat?” Artoirel asks, confused, red in the face, and Nika looks at the glass in his hand.  “No,” he says and rubs the side of his neck. “I just think you look better without the cravat.”  “Such are the fashions of Ishgard, Nika.”  “Fuck the fashions of Ishgard, Artoirel.” Nika looks at his own shirt, open at the front, and the length of his white boots. Artoirel follows suit; his eyes linger on the exposed skin of Nika’s chest. “Some of them, anyway.”  “Not all of us can make that shirt look good,” Artoirel comments quietly. “You and Lord Stephanivien, perhaps. As for myself? The cravates are that much presentable.” “Bah, you’re too prim and proper.” Nika puts a foot down. The heels echo in the otherwise silent room like a battle trumpet. It may be the drink he’s had, but his next words come out offensively shamelessly. “I like the way your collarbones look.”  (...) “Let’s go play the piano,” Nika says. His voice is gruff, stuffed to the brim with need and anger and yearning and the drunkenness of the whiskey and the warmth of Artoirel’s skin. “Let’s go play the fucking piano or I’m pinning you down on these overpriced floor covers.” 

“You’re doing it again,” Nika says. “Looking at me so intensely. Like I’m.. Like you’re in love with me, or something.” He laughs, awkwardly. “Are you in love with me, Artoirel?”  Artoirel purses his lips and looks away. He stands up and runs a finger over the surface of the desk. “I am fond of you, yes. That much is obvious.”  “Being fond and being in love are two completely different things!” Nika puts his cup down on the windowsill and rubs his face. “Artoirel, I.. You are not like everyone else. You are dear to me, and I care for you, and–” He takes a deep breath. “I care for you more than I should. And twelve help me, everything else I’ve done feels like– fucking foreplay for the main thing. Which is–” Nika waves his hands around. “All of this.” 

nika and artoirel are a joy to write together because of their very kinds of communication vibes - artoirel being prim and proper, nika being very direct and downright rude, neither saying what they mean but saying it directly anyway. i often joke that they could talk for each other in therapy because of this, and they absolutely could. it sometimes feels like they're the only person who ever understands what the other guy is trying to say :>

[cl0ckworkpuppet]

figuring out my social identity was one of the hardest parts of my life, but i think i've got it now.

i am King Cringe.

in that role, i would become a beacon of "cringe", warding off those who try to make me feel embarrassed about what i do. no one can stop me from being cringe because, well, being cringe is all that i am. it's my duty, it's my job, it's my hobby, it's my lifestyle. anyone who tries to shame me for being who i am is immediately thwarted. i cannot be stopped and i cannot be shamed, i can only be looked upon with disgust. and the disgust of the masses is what fuels me to be even more cringe.

and so, too, does my beacon reach those who are embarrassed about themselves. people who are "cringe" but don't want to admit it can stand behind me, embraced in community and protected by the "bigger target". i make them feel welcome, i allow them to express themselves, and may even bring in some people who originally were against me but didn't wish to suppress the part of themselves that is inherently "cringe" anymore.

i always say, "I'm the guy in the room that you can look at and go 'well, at least I'm not that guy!'", and people think it's a form of self-deprecation. that's not true. i take immense pride in knowing that i'm the most embarrassing person in the room. because somewhere out there, in the room in which everyone's gawking at me, there's a little soul with the same level of shame that i used to have thinking to themselves, "well, maybe i'm not so bad after all". and if that inspires even the least amount of confidence in them, i'll be happy.

i fight for the neurodivergent kids on deviantart from the mid-2010's who got mocked at by someone a hundred times their size. i stand by the high schoolers who wear fox tails to school. i cheer on the people who are "too old" to play with whatever toys or games they still have. i encourage those with "weird" or unconventional hobbies to continue doing what they love. i give those with "strange" speaking habits a voice. i let anyone of any age, any ethnicity or race, any background, any identity, any neurodivergency, or any other trait anyone can have express themselves safely. i allow those who hide these things out of fear to open up and be their true selves.

look to me when you feel shame. ask me questions about my "embarrassing" hobbies. hide behind me if you ever feel like you're not "mature" enough. i'll be there for whoever needs me.

cringe culture is dead and its blood is on my hands. but should it ever rear its ugly head to you, i'll kill it again.

[crystalsamethyst]

I have let myself be extremely vulnerable recently and I don't know if it's something people really care about but I'm going to talk about it.

The fact that I've been sharing the whole picture of who I am across several platforms is something I never thought I'd be able to do. There has been so much embarrassment and shame in my personal life over me writing fanfiction and latching on to series that I could barely even admit it out loud even though it was my entire sense of self. I couldn't talk about what I was writing. I couldn't share it. Even if people were genuinely interested, I'd have a panic attack thinking their perception of me would be altered and I'd lose everything.

Sharing what I write is extremely difficult because on one hand, it's a part of me, but on the other hand, there are things I have to incorporate for the stories that don't represent me at all and I'm terrified of people coming to the wrong conclusions about who I am as a person. Even if the writing is 100% aligned with what I wanted for it, that still doesn't mean it's always who I am or what I like or approve of for real life.

I also never thought of myself as a 'real writer' until I finished my own original book since fanfiction 'doesn't count' (in my irl world).

My username on fanfiction sites is different than the ones I share things about my actual life on and it will probably stay that way. It always felt like such a disconnect but I intended to stay anonymous, post what I wanted to, and not get found by a select few people who seemed to be able to find and shame me wherever I went (still found me on some of the sites but by then they didn't hold power over me at least)

So recently, I've been linking my work which is on AO3 under the same username I use for all sites I've posted fanfics on. I've even put direct links to my AO3 in some of my online profiles. There's a lot of my old work out there that I don't want to be represented by but someone liked it so I'm not going to take them down.

This is a very vulnerable process for me, admitting that I am a person and here is what I like and here is what I write. It might take a while until I'm comfortable sharing everything I wanted to post, but if I eventually do, I really hope people won't come after me for it (super unlikely scenario but, anxiety). I'm not scared of online hate, but I'm terrified of losing the respect and friendships of those I've connected with even if there is nothing even 'socially' wrong with the stories.

I really appreciate the support I've gotten so far. Especially with the TGCF community. I've had to learn a lot on my own since I started posting things like 13 years ago, and I'm still figuring out AO3 and learning new terms. I sometimes feel like a new young fan just now learning how the internet works.

I've been isolated a lot of my life and have several mental health issues plus autism so I'm super knowledgeable in some areas but completely in the dark in others that might seem incredibly obvious and commonly known, and it's the same for fandoms and websites. (I've actually been apparently using Tumblr wrong this whole time too for the like system. I've been using it mostly as bookmarks or read laters. Whoops.)

On a lesser note, I also never imagined I would start drawing again. I actually used to be pretty good at it but again, was shamed and ridiculed for a lot and compared to others so I stopped for a really long time. I'm glad I can share it without being tooooo embarrassed anymore.

It means a lot to me to be so supported, and I would tag a few of you specifically but I don't want you guys to feel called out. But please know that your support and enthusiasm means the world to me and I appreciate and care about you very much. Thank you for helping me feel safe while I'm letting myself be vulnerable.