#(some backstory: only a couple of days ago my mom was showing me one of her kpop guys

[airenyah]

yesterday on the phone my mom told me that taemin's new thing had come out and i was like "yeah. i couldn't tell from all the posts @newyearknwwme was putting on my dash. i was close to blacklisting taemin."

my mother then gasped dramatically and said i could blacklist whatever kpop star i wanted but not taemin, just not taemin. i am forbidden from blacklisting taemin

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for trying to block evade?

This happened several years ago, so I'll put the ages that we were at the time.

I [17F at the time], had an extremely close friend [17F] of 3+ years, and I still haven't found any kind of friendship that came close to the level of trust / openness that was there. So some of this backstory ranges from 14yrs to 17yrs.

My home was abusive, and she and her mom helped me figure out what was rational vs irrational, normal vs not normal, and pointing out local resources to get help - which was absolutely amazing and I could not thank them enough.

She invited me to her house pretty regularly, a couple times a week. We'd have hours of skype calls. She got me roped into Undertale & the fandom. Well, not that we really interacted with the fandom at large. We only publically posted some of the art and barely got noticed haha. Between the two of us, we had something like 26 AUs and had a lot of rp with multiverse shenanigans - like over 1200+ pages of google docs rp, because that's where we did like 90% of it. After we hit like 100-200 pages, we'd make a new doc so it wouldn't take so long to load. And we had like, at least like 9 docs I think. I was mostly in it for her, because it was really fun to just make up stories together. I could've done it with any fandom she threw at me, undertale is just the one that was popular at the time.

At one point, I think when we were around 16, I asked her if she wanted to start dating. She said something along the lines of maybe in the future, but not right now - she wanted to focus on school. Even though she declined at the time, she did say she appreciated me asking and that it meant a lot to her. And there were 0 hard feelings about the answer, we just kept on going the way we were going.

She got hit with a really bad level of depression, and stopped coming to school. After 2-3 days, I started calling her every day around lunch time just to check in on her and see how she was doing. See if there was anything I could do to help - bring some snacks, catch her up on classwork for the couple classes we shared, stuff like that. This was for couple months. More than just a mental health day, and the only reason she gave was Depression.

After a week or two of the daily calls, there was probably an aspect of toxic positivity on my end. Like "You gotta Do Something to avoid being trapped in your misery, even if it's just baby steps like sitting outside on the porch or going on a walk down the block" Not maliciously, but more out of not knowing how to handle a situation like this & genuinely wanting to help her because of all the help she's offered me in the past & fueled a little bit by fear because Depresssion is the excuse that my abusive parents used to justify their shitty behavior & neglect. Not because I was afraid of what she'd do to me, but more what she'd do to herself. That's one of the only things I could think where I went wrong, which I completely acknowledge and understand now.

She was still inviting me to her house, and we were still doing our normal thing there. Drawing and writing stories together.

After 4-5 weeks [? estimate, time is an illusion] of her not showing up to school, I can't remember if I asked if it was helpful or if she suggested that I stop calling every day. Calling every day was making her feel worse.

I did end up calling the next day or two at lunch - crossing the boundary was not my intent. We had planned to hang out on the weekend again, lunch is just when I remembered & had time to call to ask if she still wanted to hang out or if she wanted some space. I think she said yes to hanging out, didn't mention anything about crossing the boundary. Same with the next day - there was something I needed to ask clarification on, it wasn't a check in, nothing was mentioned of the boundary. I can't remember what it was now. This is another one of the places where I think I went wrong, which I acknowledge & understand.

I did stop the check ins like requested though. After those two off days, I did stop calling her every day at lunch.

She finished out the school year having shown up to class maybe 3ish times, I think.

Again, we were still hanging out regularly. There was no indication that I was doing anything wrong, there was no indication that anything I was doing was wrong. She was still the one inviting me to hang out at least half the time.

There were some problems that I was noticing that I just wanted to have a casual chat about and figure out, but she kept pushing it off as a "I don't have the energy right now, we can talk about it later" and we'd go back to the fun things. I don't really remember what those problems were.

In the summer, I went to a different state to visit my older sister that I hadn't seen in years. I talked to her about it, I was excited for it. We were still chatting regularly during my trip over skype or discord.

And then, during my trip that I was so excited about, she drops this bombshell. She sends me several massive messages detailing out a bullet point list of everything I've done wrong, that she's explicitly breaking off the friendship, and blocks me. 95% of things on that list either flat weren't true, or gross misunderstandings of what happened.

It was genuinely horrible things too.

For example, one of the things on the list was "Suicide baiting" or "Suicide guilt tripping" or something along those lines, which had happened several months if not a year before this. -I've only ever communicated feeling acutely suicidal to her 1 time. -Long before that, she made me promise that if I ever felt suicidal that I was supposed to immediately talk to her about it, for her own peace of mind so she wouldn't worry about me. -I reached a point of feeling acutely suicidal due to abuse at home & general existential dread, that happened to be during a time we had an issue.

I purposefully waited until after the issue was resolved, like 2 weeks, before telling her. I did that specifically so it would not be taken as a guilt trip or a form of coercion while still holding as true as I could to my promise. She made me promise to tell her, it was something very important to her. I made very clear to say "this is something I experienced a couple weeks ago due to unrelated things, it is resolved now, I got help through xyz means and genuinely feel better. You made me promise to tell you so I am telling you, I didn't want to say anything while we were having a problem for xyz reason." I just wanted to talk, and clear up the misunderstandings. I wanted to have a good conversation about figuring out where the communication went wrong, try and figure out how she came to these conclusions, and how that differs from my point of view. Do something to work it out, and just talk about it, and try and salvage this 3+ year friendship.

After I realized I was blocked, I was going through so so many emotions all at once. The whiplash of going from 5 to 100, Upset that I wasn't given any sort of chance to explain, the 5 stages of grief, being thrown away like the gum off your shoe, worrying about her and if this was the stage of isolation for depression, holding out the hope that we could still just talk and work things out, angry that she kept pushing off and refusing to have any sort of serious talk before this, doubting if anything she had said on 'normal vs not normal' - particularly communication styles, thoughts that maybe she was abusive and manipulative all along, maybe I was continuing the cycle of abuse, trauma flashbacks, anxieties that I had since squashed as 'irrational', fear that this was a sign that she was about to fucking kill herself and maybe the whole list was a lie so I wouldn't try and reach out and stop her, doubting my own reality and maybe the entire list she sent me was true and she was justified in her actions.

Simultaneously trying to process intense feelings and realities if it was true and I'm really secretly a horrible monster, if it wasn't true and she was about to die, and old traumas getting dug out of the grave.

God I was such an emotional wreck and did not know how to process or understand anything that was happening.

This is where the AITA comes in -

I was pushing through back to back panic attacks trying to contact her and figure out what was going on. I didn't want her to die, if that's what was happening. I didn't want to be discarded and thrown away like a piece of trash, if that's what was happening. I didn't want to have 0 chance of learning & growing as a person even if this friendship wasn't salvageable due to my monstrous nature, if that's what was happening.

So I block evaded like fckn crazy. Gmail, pet game sites, discord, skype, deviantart, whatever online platform that we shared that had messaging enabled. I called her phone several times. On the 3-4th call, her mom picked up and told me that none of the above was true. That she wasn't about to die, that I wasn't being thrown away like trash, and that I wasn't a monster. She didn't agree with her daughters actions and thought it unfair to me, but ultimately it was my friend's choice. All simultaneously which just did not compute.

If the list she sent me was true, I was a shitty horrible person. If it wasn't, and she isn't about to die, then not be able to just have a calm sit-down conversation at some point about it and clear it up - if I wasn't worth even attempting to make that effort then I was being thrown away like trash. I kept trying for days afterwards to talk to her - just, anything at all. Nothing got through, she never responded to anything.

And... that was that.

I didn't have a chance to talk to her again. I didn't have a chance to clear up misunderstandings, or understand what I did actually wrong and where, or any sort of closure.

Sometimes if I'm remembering it and feeling paranoid, I'll check and see if she's alive by looking at her online profiles for any activity. Like, maybe once a year tops now. According to the petgame sites, she's still alive at least. I'm assuming she got new social media. Literally it's just a "is she alive, do I have to worry about causing her suicide" check, I don't stalk or look into anything further than that.

Anyway, AITA for how extensively & desperately I was block evading?

What are these acronyms?

[lolz88]

Life advice

Hi, you don’t know me and we’ll probably never meet, but if you’d be so kind as to listen to some words of wisdom please continue reading,

if not have a good day

Trigger warning

Mentions of SA, child abuse, suicidal ideation,

In life, you won’t always be alright, things will be shit, something will go wrong, something will hurt you or you’ll hurt someone and regret it day in and day out

But that being said, life won’t always be bad, things will work out for you, something will go right, you will one day heal, and those you accidentally hurt will heal

And you may not believe that, a couple of years ago I would not have, I would have screamed and swore that nothing good could happen, that I didn’t deserve it and that it was all lies

“But what’s the difference now”? You may ask

“How did you change”?

Allow me to paint that picture

I was born to a First Nations mother and a second generation immigrant father, in a small rundown town, in which my family broke leaving my mother alone with an infant, my life was never meant to be glamorous

Growing up was paycheque to paycheque in a rundown little town, my mom was newly divorced, with my little half brother and a scummy ex who wanted her to suffer, it was rough, then came a little spark of hope, a kind stepfather, 3 new older siblings in a large house in the countryside, it was like something out of a dream, life turned out amazing…

But then it didn’t, at age 5 when I was supposed to be running and playing, I was walking on eggshells, hiding from my adult stepbrother, who had a taste for little kids and used them to take out his anger, I even remember drawing away my stepbrother’s attention from my little brother, doing so without even really knowing why. And the worst part is we thought it was normal, we considered it a daily norm to the point we didn’t even consider telling an adult. I was only 13 when I realized a grown man should have never even considered what my step brother

And we only got away because a teacher who didn’t like my mother called cps, we never even knew why, but when they showed up I was asked to sit down and talk with them, to tell them everything that happened in a day in great detail, I told them every detail with a smile not knowing anything was wrong, and in doing so, my parents found out, or should I say parent, as it came out my stepfather was aware

It was at most a day when we left, moving in with my grandparents, and later moving back to our old home, our home from before. And the worst part is I could go on, that wasn’t my backstory but just the prologue, that’s not counting the 16 years of bullying, the harassment, the 8 suicide attempts, the addiction and so on

So how can I be ok?, how can I wake up and get out of bed?, how am I still here?

It wasn’t therapy, wasn’t medication and sure as hell wasn’t religion, the reasons I’m still here are dozens and yet only 3 are really important, I’m here because I couldn’t miss my mother’s birthday, I couldn’t leave because my dog was sick and needed me, I had to stay because my brother was about to graduate elementary school and he wanted me there, I took all those little moments and the hundreds of others and I held them close, and slowly they began to fill that little void in me

Nowadays I can say I’m ok and mean it, but that’s the thing, I’m ok yes, but sometimes I’m not, sometimes I cry myself sick because I’m convinced I’ll never fall in love with someone, that because of how I look or the way I talk somehow makes me unloveable, sometimes I feel numb, that same feeling I got when I lost hope, sometimes I am reminded of how I struggled and I stumble.

But then, in time, slowly I start to feel lighter, I start singing to my cows in the morning, I’m baking and I can picture a home where someone loves me and I them

And I realize, once again, that I’m ok, and that I will be ok if I fall again

Now one thing to note, I may not have had help, but if you feel anything like I did, you should seek help, I’ve told those story in the hopes that you take away one single concept

That even during those dark painful moments, in the hopeless times, sometimes all you need is one little thing, one insignificant thing that will snowball out till you reach the day you can look back and smile at how far you’ve come

Remember always, no matter what you are loved, valued and important

[thebreakfastgenie]

jasmine and abelia for the ask game! -ypq

jasmine ⇢ do you have a movie or book you loved but will never watch/read again?

I answered this one but let me see if I can think... okay so I actually hated Wuthering Heights except when I was reading it because it was assigned in high school I was in a weird depressive slump and the only thing that made me feel better was reading that book. So I got way ahead of the class because I would just go home curl up and read it?? Idk it was weird. I couldn't stand most of the characters and didn't care for the style but I was so attached to it. But I doubt I'll ever reread it. 

Oh and Little Women! My mom read me Little Women when I was like seven and I was riveted but I probably won't reread it and I refuse to see any movie version because Little Women to me is my memory of the book. If I ever changed my mind I'd reread the book first. We also read the two sequels, Little Men and Jo's Boys because I insisted on it. 

And I enjoyed the original Jungle Book a lot as a kid but I hate Rudyard Kipling so much I doubt I'll ever read it again... I suspect to an adult the racism in that book would really jump out. 

abelia ⇢ do you have a particular piece of jewelry you always wear or can’t part with?

I have the Bead! I wore it constantly (except for showers and swimming, sports, things like that but I did sleep in it) for years, but now I only wear it occasionally because of the wear and tear. It's a cheap plastic bead, it wasn't meant for this. I will never ever part with it although I did lose it for over two years a couple years ago and I had a breakdown about, tore my room apart more than once, my mom called a hotel we'd stayed at in case I left it there... and then it just turned up. Which is so fucking in character for the Bead, but let me explain the backstory. 

My friend Christi and I really loved animals, and we'd bring these happy meal toy sized The Dog stuffed animals to school to play with. One day we had a button that had fallen off another friend's coat, and we used that as a puck to play "nose hockey." (We were in fourth grade, air hockey was the coolest game ever.) Then our friend needed the button back so it could be sewed back onto her coat, so we needed a new puck. We found leftovers of these extremely cheap kits we'd used to make a keychain as a father's day craft, and commandeered the round, flat bead. It was red plastic and originally had a simplistic drawing of a car on it but that's long since rubbed off. 

One day we were playing nose hockey on the sidewalk and the Bead fell into a deep sidewalk crack. We thought it was irretrievable, but we tried anyway, working together with sticks. It ended up flying into the air (which we did not expect, we were just trying to roll it) and we caught it. So we began to suspect it was magic and could not be lost. I took the bead home for the summer, and it disappeared from the spot I left it in. Months later, it turned up in a completely different room of my house, on a different floor (I suspect feline assistance, which is fitting; we both adored cats). So now it was really magic! Christi wasn't in school that regularly, so I'd bring it just in case. There were a couple more incidents too, where it was lost or nearly lost and showed up again. 

After she died, I wanted to keep it safe, so I put it on a string--it was a bead, after all--and made it into a bracelet. My mom, realizing my knot was not secure, suggested putting it on a chain instead. When the plastic started to deteriorate, I stopped wearing it. A few years later, I took it to a jeweler, who put a metal tube inside the hole so the chain wouldn't cut into the plastic. Then I put it on a necklace instead, so it would be more protected than on my wrist. It's fragile so I still don't wear it every day, but I wear it some. 

I was wearing it on my way home from college for the summer. I got home and took it off and then it was just gone. I was sure I remembered where I left it, but it wasn't there. It wasn't anywhere. I was devastated. It was gone for years, and I had dreams where  found it and I woke up disappointed. 

One day I was on the other side of my room from where I'd last seen it, going through a box of Christi mementos. The Bead landed on the carpet. I don't know where it fell from. This was in September, too, not long before the anniversary of her death. I let out a shriek. So the Bead returned to me again! I still only wear it occasionally but I keep it very carefully. 

I also have a necklace that says Chatty Cathy, the name of our friend group, that another friend's mom had made for all of us (I think Christi was buried with one). I wore that every day for a while, and then every Friday (Christi's day at our school and Chatty Cathy meeting day; we were a "club" that was allowed to do whatever we wanted and roam unsupervised because cancer perks are very real), and then occasionally, but they were very cheaply made and after having the chain fixed many times I decided I needed to buy one that wouldn't break and risk losing the charm and I haven't done that yet, so I just have that one carefully put away for now. I had a near miss with losing that too when the chain broke while I was going through security to tour UK parliament and I had a breakdown because I thought the charm was lost and security was really nice to me, even pulling up a grate to see if it fell in (it turned out to be in my hair. embarrassing.). I'm American so I was kind of expecting guns in my face. 

Remind me to post a picture of the Bead later! I actually have a replica of how it originally looked (another leftover keychain kit) that I want to make into a piece of jewelry eventually. 

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

All three Bengal kittens have been rescued

So I made a post yesterday about how I had to catch all the stray Bengal kittens I'd be made aware of and said that I'd hopefully post the full story when I had them all. Well, it's storytime!

So some backstory here: When I was 8-12 years old my parents and I breed and raised Bengals cats. Some of you are going to get the wrong idea from that sentence so let me assure you that we were VERY responsible breeders and also a very small operation. We only ever breed three Bengals (our "queens") and we did not keep any adult male cats at the same time to breed them with. Instead, we took them all the way down to West Virginia to the lady we'd gotten our first one from and she bred them for us. During those four years we were a business, Shanti had three litters, Rosie had two, and Diamond had one. They were not over-bred and the kittens were well cared for. In fact we even fostered a mother cat who we did not own, who had EIGHT kittens which we then hand fed and raised because the mom couldn't take care of them.

That was Crystal's litter, if you happen to have been here a couple months ago and seen my post about her when she died. Crystal was 17 when she died. Shanti was 18. Rosie was 14 and I believe Diamond was 12. Diamond and Rosie only died "early" because they had health complications that we could not fix despite all our efforts and it was kinder to let them go then let them suffer.

So. We love Bengal cats. LOVE them. However, we also know just how much it costs to get one and we knew we'd never be able to afford another.

Enter a longtime family friend who works in a nearby town and has known us since our Bengal cat raising days.

Three weeks ago she sent my mom a text with a picture of a BEAUTIFUL snow Bengal who she said was living on the streets. Nobody wanted her, this beautiful little cat. So, a few days later, I ventured out to investigate and see if this cat could be caught because I am the crazy cat girl and always have been (the friend who told us about the cat even said I'd "always had a way with animals").

I get there and find out two things very quickly upon meeting this cat. One, it is a BABY. Like, not a tiny baby, but 5-6 months old. And two, it is starving. Like, it's not just hungry, I can see and feel its ribs and backbone VIVIDLY. I am immediately in love and committed to saving this precious baby.

I try and fail to capture the kitten two days in a row (and like, when I say fail, I mean that I managed to pick it up and one day get it in a crate, I just couldn't zip the crate shut fast enough before it wiggled out). On the third day I meet a woman who works where I've been trying to catch the cat and she tells me it belongs to someone. I am skeptical, but I listen because I don't want to steal someone's cat, obviously. She tells me what house she thinks the cat is from and encourages me to find out if the lady who owns it will give/sell me the cat. In light of this I put the cat crate I'd been bringing away, but stay to feed the cat. And then I find out something else that's incredibly important.

There's another Bengal kitten.

As I'm feeding the little snow a beautiful little black spotted kitten appears and demands food as well. My brain says "Bengal" but I'd never had one like this so I take pictures to show my parents and check out later. My mom recognizes it as a charcoal Bengal and is immediately in love with it.

But, we were told the snow belongs to someone, so a couple days later on my mom's half work day we head over (in the rain) to ask the people in the house if it's their cat or not. We meet a nice lady with a little girl who tells us that she has no idea who's cat it is and it isn't theirs. She tells us she'd be happy if we took it, especially if it's starving!

So the next day I return with the intent to capture the charcoal and the snow. I find a little charcoal in the parking lot I've been working out of and put some canned cat food in a crate to try and lure it. It walks right into the crate. I lock it in. One kitten down. I don't catch the snow, but hey, I got one, right? I take the kitten to the local APL to make sure it isn't microchipped and it's not! So, with the blessing of the APL I take it home.

This little dude is the friendliest, chillest Bengal I've ever met. He was SILENT when I was driving him home. I have NEVER had a Bengal be silent in a crate. He is the loviest little guy you'll ever meet, so happy to be rescued.

For the next couple days I go back and continue to befriend the little snow, making up for what we lost when I tried to catch it the first two days and it got wary of me. Then, yesterday, I'm feeding the little snow, trying to catch her, when, out of nowhere-

ANOTHER charcoal appears. I am shook. I HAD thought that the charcoal boy looked different from the one I took pictures of, but... I figured it was the lighting/environment or something! I NEVER expected there to ACTUALLY be three babies!

And then charcoal 2 walks straight into the crate just like her brother did. I have no choice but to take her home and come back for snow another day, I cannot leave this other baby here.

So I bring baby number 2 home to my equally shocked parents. She is the feistiest little cat, the exact opposite of her brother's purrsonality. She is the embodiment of chaos- but she does love hugs and cuddles.

And then today, after praying, begging, PLEADING with God to let me rescue the cat I ACTUALLY WENT TO SAVE-

I caught the little snow. She has been so excited to see me the past two days! Running right up to me chattering away for food. She's such a precious baby. She wouldn't walk into the crate, but I felt like God was telling me it was time, so as I was petting her, I scruffed her (a harmless action, especially to a kitten) put her in the crate (a non zipper one this time) and slammed the door shut. Put her in my car and drove her home, promising her the life of a princess she's always deserved.

So now, two months after our last Bengal died, God gave us three Bengal kittens. Three beautiful, STUNNING, Bengal kittens who somehow, despite having been in the streets, love hugs and cuddles and pets.

There are two girls and one boy. The girls' names are Maraly (the spirited, fiesty charcoal) and Leeli (the precious little snow with a musical voice). We haven't settled on a name for the boy yet, we're debating between Kalmar and T'challa because both are kingly and both suit him. (I suggested Kalmar obviously xD) They're all safely contained in individual crates (not cat crates, we have old dog crates/pens and a big soft-sided cat pen that they're in) on our screened in front porch, so they're very safe. They can see each other, but they've been understandably distressed so for safety they're separated unless we're out there with them.

Like, I cannot stress how funny this is. God sent me after a little snow Bengal, then made the situation drag out until I'd caught the two charcoal babies. Then easy as could be I caught the snow, the one I was ORIGINALLY THERE FOR. And all this two months after we realized we'd never have Bengals again. God truly has a sense of humor.

[josiebelladonna]

damn.

how’s everyone doing?

okay. these few days have been… interesting to say in the least.

first off, the house: the backstory, in case you don’t know, is that the property taxes here had defaulted about five years ago. to make a long convoluted complicated 95% of it i can’t talk about due to legality story short, they defaulted… and turns out, it wasn’t even our fault. someone dropped the ball somewhere, it totally wasn’t even our doing or our responsibility for that matter. but my mom and i looked at each other, we looked at what was due, and my mom bit the bullet and pretty much used all of her savings to cover it—by the skin of our teeth, too, like the company got the check today. she’s only got about 200 dollars left in her savings account after that, but luckily for us, it’s only a once-a-year thing (meaning we don’t have to think about this again for a full year), and we’ve been through difficult times before (read: we know how to pinch pennies in our sleep) and it’s only for about a month, which is when her job starts with a new assignment.

second, my mental health. it tanked the other day, and there were a couple of things that triggered it: number one was the fact that i kept getting asked about money over on instagram. people asking me about commissions and “dealing” and what have you—i think most of them were ai generated, but who the fuck knows. it’s a deep wound that only those who grew up poor will understand—compounded with the fact that i have a very dysfunctional, very unsupportive, borderline abusive family; on its own, it’s enough to push my buttons. plus—say what you want. every artist goes through this. i’m following a bunch of artists on instagram, good artists, too, some of these people are excellent… but i couldn’t help but compare myself to them. it’s also kind of… clique-y, i’d say? kind of like how tumblr is now, but it’s actually worse because you have art involved, something that should unite all of us. tumblr… as obnoxious as this place is now, i do see where it’s coming from. but within the art community? that just doesn’t seem right to me. when you take an art class, you’re going in there to rest your soul. tap into yourself and learn some techniques while you’re at it. nobody is picasso out the gate, so you hone your own skill and your own style all the while, so it’s like a leveling of the playing field (and no, showing the biggest piece of shit to the teacher doesn’t count). but this is uncomfortable. and it’s exhausting, too, like how the hell can you people be posting to your story several times every hour? i post three to mine in one sitting and i feel like i’m overloading everyone. and, i was getting comments from people who were following me years ago asking me, “you’re still drawing?” like they were shocked that i’m still doing this. i saw that as a bad sign, like… you know when you, a fan of something or someone, doesn’t seem to realize that the thing you’re fan of is still going, that’s usually a sign of things gone wrong. and i had accidentally rehashed some old wounds that are kinda “same ol’” status at this point: my sexuality, my appearance, my body, my not feeling good enough. so… i woke up one morning, looked at my art, and just started crying. all of that pushed me over the edge and it genuinely made me want to quit. i thought for sure i was finished. i had to get away. i have to be alone for a while.

(so, if i seem a.w.o.l. over on instagram, you know what happened: i just deleted the app from my tablet, i didn’t delete my account)

third, i looked at my art and i wondered if i just needed a makeover for it. i have a new little project going right now made by some of the techniques i’ve seen on instagram. i won’t reveal it until it’s done, though. it’s kind of abstract, kind of odd, kind of… well, you’ll see it. as for the “deleted all my art files from my computer” tidbit, it didn’t delete the backup files, so i clicked on those and salvaged every single one, every single one. i’ll admit, it was weirdly freeing to have all that free space on my thumb drive.  and as for neptune’s spear… i was thinking of posting it today or tuesday, but… eh. i think she can wait a while.

[oatbrew]

hi! May I ask u if you watch kdramas and if u have any favs? I honestly love reading your thoughts on games/series so I was really curious. Hope u have a great day💕

hi hi! yes i do! mostly on netflix and not a whole lot bc kdramas are a hefty investment and im a creature of habit who rewatches my old shows until im sick and desensitized 😌 no particular order here…

crash landing on you: baby’s first kdrama during the pandemic that really started it all for me and my mom. which made me appreciate it less as a show and more as a great bonding experience as she swoons over hyun bin and i swoon over son ye jin. im in the minority who likes the ending. it was a nice realistic touch that grounded the usual third act melodrama level of heightened emotions in kdramas

it’s okay to not be okay: idk what else hasn’t been said but the style, the artistry, the performances, the soundtrack, the family dynamics, how well the fairy tales serve as a thematic basis for each episode 👌👌👌 i love love the individual character developments more than the romance. sometimes they infantilized the heroine at the second half but she’s still one of my favorite kdrama characters

vincenzo: i can take or leave the romance but regardless the leads’ “this is my worse half” dynamic makes the show. their rapport w their plaza neighbors is also hilarious. vincenzo as a character is fun but too cool for me to be attached. cha young though belongs to my list of favorite kdrama characters (you can see a common theme here that im partial to female characters who are assertive w varying levels of unhinged and/or moral grayness)

her private life: fake dating’s not my absolute favorite but no one has topped the chemistry of these actors. the first time they kissed i felt like i needed to turn off the tv to give them privacy lmao what really sells their relationship is how obviously they’re delighted by each other, how they establish intimacy based on their work, and the fact that he loves fangirling over her fangirling. i wasn’t a fan of the third act twist but they still reign as the best romance here

age of youth: technically my first kdrama (i just didn’t finish the second season) and i invested heavily into the narrative when i watched as a college student. i can take or leave the romances but the friend group is unmatched and the only reason to watch. season one >>>> season two all the way

run on: the second couple are EVERYTHING. i didn’t fully appreciate during my first watch until i finished and learned that this kind of slice of life, slow paced and character-driven stuff is my vibe exactly. any time im doing chores i pull up a random ep in the bg bc it feels like im just casually doing parallel play w a friend

hotel del luna: love the premise, love the ending except for the very last moment, didn’t love the romance or the hero necessarily, but i love the heroine so much i couldn’t leave it out. her backstory and relationship with the not!second lead compelled me to finish and tbh they’re the emotional core of the whole thing

my liberation notes: my friend calls this a depression simulator kdrama 😂 but this had as much heart as a ghibli film to me. best part was the ensemble who had very real flaws and emotional relatability supported by a script w depth more human than pretentious. this rly was a show that you had to earn but when you did, it was well worth it

hometown cha cha cha: small town slice of life basically the ultimate comfort food kdrama 💖 save for like two eps each one hits so well. has the second best romance and the best ensemble here although it does dip too much in sentimentality for my taste at times. but it wouldn’t be what it is without it

special mention to cheese in the trap…which i didn’t finish lol so i can’t speak on the quality of that but lil closelyknit lore facts the webtoon it was based on featured in my blog for a good number of tumblr years some time ago

[foreverpining]

Backstory (10th Grade Part 1 [I'm sorry there's a lot this year])

So summer came and we spent quite a bit of that together as well. They even went to one of my therapy appointments with me and met my therapist. At this point things were starting to get a little more heated between us. They'd lost their virginity already although I had not. We came really close a couple times that summer at my aunt's house while everyone was busy, in my room when they'd got there but my mom didn't know yet to keep an eye on us. School came again and as always it comes with struggles. None so much as 9th grade brought our friendship tho. We'd sit in the afternoons after school discussing the future how we'd move out and get an apartment together as soon as we could. We even with the ever growing closer act of sexuality discussed possibilities for if a certain surprise were to happen even tho I was on birth control. We spent their birthday on the couch in the living room of my parents house I had made them cookies to take home as a birthday present. Just a few days later he was back over for Halloween but our planned event was cut short by my existential crisis about growing older so we decided instead to go trick or treating one final time. It was the last time I trick or treated and I'd honestly go so far as to say my favorite we wondered through neighborhoods going house to house until it was far too late and everyone was out of candy. They had braces so when we got back to my house to trade candy till their dad got there they ended up giving me pretty much everything they got and left with a left chocolate candies at my insistence. We at least one day together every week that whole year leading up to the big event of 2018 Christmas. The Christmas I'll never forget. We discussed it and both of our families celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve so we decided we could spend the day together. Now I haven't actually noted this yet but a big barrier of us making it to third base was my mom was a helicopter mom and she was constantly checking in on every few minutes. Well she had agreed to my bestie spending Christmas with us rather far in advance but when the day actually came she ended up being sick. Since she'd already agreed she still let my bestie come over. When they got there the first thing we did was I excited gave them their presents. A T-Shirt from the show The Flash off the CW and a little Iron Man plush, because my bestie really loves comics. Actually side note years ago around this time they made a tumblr and most of what they posted on it was shower thoughts and Batman AUs. Back to the story my bestie didn't really have money to get me anything so they'd written me a note that I actually lost sadly so I can't show you but it was really sweet and gave me like a dollar and some change which I ended up taking to the dollar tree and buying a little teddy bear and told them that would be their gift to me. I let them name it and they named her Aurora. So we were sitting in there after that completely unsupervised and one thing lead to another and we went all the way on that fateful Christmas day. After we finished we cuddled on the couch ate some leftover Christmas foods from my family's celebration the day before. Then their dad got there to pick them up I expressed to them I was really sad for them to leave and since they'd changed into the shirt I'd gifted them they gave me the one they had came to my house wearing that day. I have taken that shirt to psych wards because it feels like it gives this comfort only their energy does. After that the rest of winter break seemed to fly by but something felt off. It felt like my bestie was trying to distance their self from me. I didn't think too much of it cause we would have a class together the next semester of school. Sadly my dear reader I do have to tell you this is where our story takes a dark path for a while, from the other side I will tell you it becomes lighter with time. Sorry have to make pt 2 10th grade was a lot.

[adam-banks2024]

Deja Vu

Part 1

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Kind of angst for now, backstory, arguments, and extremely slow burn. Also future poly

He’s insufferable

He’s arrogant. He’s rude. He’s annoying.

He is insufferable.

And I have to deal with him.

Of all the people Mrs. Moore could have partnered me with, she just had to choose him. It’s not like we even put a show on in public, and it’s sad but, everybody knows about the feud between us that started four years ago. 

I had just moved to town from three states over, and I didn’t know anyone my age. After a few weeks of summer went by of not knowing anyone, my dad convinced me to join the district’s hockey team. He told me that it was because he wanted me to make some friends, but I knew that he really just couldn’t afford to pay a babysitter. And my mother, well, she wasn’t in the picture. So I ended up having to go through the lost and found at six different ice rinks in Minnesota in order to get all of my equipment. At first, I was wary of the idea, but my dad said that it was kind of like shopping, so I agreed to go with him. Originally, we would have only had to search five rinks, but I couldn’t find any skates that were my size. After almost twelve hours of rummaging through sweaty pads and broken sticks, I had myself a full set of hockey gear.

Now I was on to the next challenge: How To Skate. I had been ice skating a couple of times before for birthday parties, but I’ve never been able to skate at the level that I had to in order to survive during an entire hockey game. I thought maybe it would just come to me naturally after attending a few practices. Until I did some research at the school library. Apparently, it takes a person at least two months to learn how to ice skate. But ignoring the negative, I decided to focus on the positive. ‘I could at least balance myself...and besides, I probably would be on the bench for every game...and just remember, you’re doing this for friends.’ These were the only three things that ran through my mind on the way to the ice rink. I was honestly terrified. I was scared that the other kids would make fun of me, or worse, ignore me. Well, maybe being made fun of is worse, but at least then they’d acknowledge me. I had to stop myself from thinking about that kinda stuff. I haven’t even attended a single hockey practice yet, and now I’ve added at least four more stressors into my life.

When my dad pulled up to the building, my stomach was tingling. My hands were clammy, and my eyebags had definitely seen better days. I wanted to run so fast away from this place, and not move at all at the same time.

“Nerves,” my dad said. He must’ve noticed from my frozen state in the backseat of his minivan. “You’ll do great! Just don’t break any bones.” He chuckled at the end in hopes that it would come off as a joke, but that is definitely not how it sounded.

To my surprise, I was the first kid that had arrived. I didn’t know much about the team, but I did know that most of the other kids had been on it since they were five or six years old. I was almost the exact opposite, thirteen and just starting. I wasn’t really sure why I was the first person to arrive, and it only added to my nervousness. 

I tried to brush it off as I saw someone outside in the parking lot leave a car holding a bag like you had. I could hear his muffled voice. “I’ll see you at six.” Whoever he was talking to must have responded because the boy spoke again, “yup, love you too.” A parent maybe. A mom? I could faintly make out a silhouette in the driver’s seat, but the glare from the sun blocked most of the car window.

Thank god someone else was here because at least now I knew that I was in the right place. But another problem arose. Now, different things were rushing through my head about what to say to the other boy. Should I make a joke, ask a question? Simply say ‘hello’? I didn’t know. So, I decided to settle on the most stupid thing anyone could ever say. 

“Are you on the hockey team?” What kind of question is that? He has a bag, this time is cut out specifically for hickey practice, and he has a hockey stick with him. Why else would he be here?

He looked up from where he was walking and stared at me awkwardly. It was likely that he wouldn’t have even noticed me if I hadn’t said anything to him. But I did. Which I regretted.

“Oh, um, yeah.” He went to keep on walking but he stopped himself quickly. “Are you?”

I had to keep a laugh in because the boy looked genuinely confused. Or maybe I misjudged that for concern. Still, though, it sounded a bit hopeful. This kid was really hard to read. Either way, I was pretty sure that he thought I couldn’t play hockey.

“Yeah. My dad made me join to make some friends.” 

Suddenly the boy’s demeanor changed. He seemed almost excited that there was a new kid on the team. “Well, I’ll be your first friend. My name’s Adam. Adam Banks. Walk and talk.” And then he started towards two big double doors.

My eyebrows rose at the sudden confidence, taken off guard, but at least he was being friendly. I adjusted your bags and followed right behind him. “So what’s it like here.”

He answered after struggling to open one of the doors, “Well it’s not so bad. It’s super cutthroat during the regular season but in the offseason, it’s pretty relaxed.” As I made myself around the outside of the rink, he kept rambling. “Especially during summer league. The kids who only play during that league have it nice. You’ll definitely survive.”

“Um, so what happens during the regular season?” The thought of angry yelling coaches wasn’t appealing to me, but I could make it work

Adam shrugged his bag up so it wouldn’t fall from his shoulder, “Well. Usually, coach yells at us, tells us that if we don’t win we’re failures, and everyone is constantly fighting to be a starter.” There was silence. “So that’s fun.” I just nodded my head, trying to take this all in. Adam didn’t say anything until he reached the locker room doors. Then he turned to me. “Yeah, but coach is a lot less lenient during summer because it doesn’t really matter for playoffs.”

I scoffed, “yeah, but I’ll eventually have to deal with him. Right?”

Adam’s expression flattened, “Wait, you’re doing winter league too?” He looked genuinely concerned, and now I was second-guessing joining hockey. If this boy didn’t think I could survive, then how could I? Even if I was just gonna sit on the bench, the way this kid was making it out to be was not sounding like the greatest way to make friends.

“Well, yeah. Is that bad?” I needed to hear him say it. Say that I should quit, or join dance, or something. Just so I could have an excuse to tell my dad in case the first day of practice goes awry.

He spoke fast, “Oh no, no. It’s just that--” 

“That I’m not good enough…”

He didn’t say anything. Harsh. I was just trying to make a joke but, I guess that’s what he was really thinking. We stood in silence for a few more seconds, and then he finally thought of something to respond with.

“No. I just feel like you’ll get hurt… and, um.”

I started to laugh. I applaud Adam for trying to make it seem like he didn’t think I was bad, but he just couldn’t do it. “Don’t sweat it, I know I’m gonna be bad.” He started to laugh with me. “Hey, at least I’ll get abs out of it.” 

He and I were actually pretty good friends for the most part. He was my first friend here in Minnesota. He taught me how to skate, and in turn, I offered him some sub-par jokes. He always used to laugh at my jokes even if they were awful. He was what I considered my best friend. He definitely wasn’t a best friend, I couldn’t confide in all of my secrets, and he couldn’t do the same to me, but Adam was the only kid I was friends with. We laughed hard, we fell on the ice together. He even told his mom that practices started to end later just so he could wait with me until my dad got off work and picked me up. 

Not long after we bonded, I hato the ducks. At the time, I didn’t know exactly what happened. All my dad said to me was something about how the coach wasn’t that nice, and that he didn’t want me on his team. I didn’t really care since hockey wasn’t something that I cared about too much. So I said goodbye to Adam and explained that I had to go. I didn’t say anything about the coach-not-liking-me part because then I thought he’d feel bad for me.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to switch teams too, but I think my dads’ gonna see if I can stay on the team.” He spoke almost as if he was trying to convince himself. I thought it was a great idea to tell him why he had to go to the ducks.

“They don’t want you, Adam. Maybe if you go to the ducks, you’ll get a coach who appreciates you.” I didn’t know what was wrong with what I said to him until about a year later, but by the time I finished my sentence, he was fuming.

The situation afterward was a blur, and I can’t remember what all was said. I just remember Adam touching on the fact how I’m an awful hockey player, and that he only talked to me because he felt sorry for me. Now, if my old coach had told me that I was awful at hockey, I’d be completely fine. I already knew that, and coach is just...coach. But hearing it come from Adam? It wasn’t like he was just telling me how it is, he wanted to hurt me.

It took me two weeks to stop thinking about the situation constantly, and then it started to fade away. I never even told him the real reason why I told him what I did, but now I have to work on a history project with him. How am I gonna do that if I can’t even tell him the reason for our quarrel that we had three years ago? Let alone complete a whole project?

“The syllabus will be given tomorrow, and the deadline for this project will be written under the ‘AP History’ bulletin. You may get to work.”

I slumped out of my desk and started putting away my things that were on the table attachment. During this, I tried to think of what I was going to say when I went over to him. I almost decided on either trying to make a truce or just acting like he didn’t exist.

He was slouched in his desk, pencil in hand, avoiding eye contact with me. As I sat down my stuff on an empty desk near him, his words startled me. “So, 50/50?”

I just stared at him. For some reason, my brain could not process what Adam had just said. It took a solid four seconds for me to respond. “I don’t understand.”

Adam’s eyebrows rose while his eyes rolled, “Of course you don’t.”

I scoffed, “What, you’re just gonna say some numbers and you think I’m gonna understand what you’re trying to say?”

He was leaning forward in his desk now, “Well you seemed to be doing well in calculus, so, yes.” A small, mocking smile was now gracing his face. 

I took in a deep breath to try and refrain from spewing whatever profanities came to mind. “Look, can we just set aside whatever this is so we can do this project?” He crossed his arms in response. “C’mon, I can’t afford to get a bad grade.” Still no response. If his goal was to ruin my life, he sure was on the right path. 

“What do I get out of it?”

The audacity.

“I’m just saying. I’ll be fine with one bad grade, so what exactly is the payoff for tolerating...you?”

So there was a shiny glimmer of hope, but it would definitely come at a cost. “Anything. Anything you want. Just please, tolerate me.”

He brought a hand to his chin, acting like he was pondering his choice, “but will it really be anything?”

“Oh my god, you are so annoying.”

“Watch it.” His voice was stern.

“Okay, okay. Sorry. But yes, anything. You name it.”

Did he even know what he wanted? Or was he just trying to play this out? Either way, I’m about to have a conniption if we don’t start working on this project soon.

We sat in silence for what felt like forever. Of course, Adam had to change his thinking position almost every second, until he decided on what he wanted. “Okay, here’s the deal. I help you get your precious little A, and you have to get me a date with Charlie.”

[wickedpact]

A ranking of all the TTT stories in order of how much I liked them.

(Oh god this is so long)

1 My Mother's Axe

BABY ANDYYYYYYYYYYYY. Honestly this one had the trifecta of developing a character's motivations, developing a character's backstory, & developing their personality. The story starting out with Andy teaching Nile to use the axe was so charming and fun, and you could feel that chemistry they had in Opening Fire, the way they teased and bickered with each other so naturally. I loved the wedge between them on the subject of the axe, how Nile was perhaps a little too young to understand Andy's feelings about whether or not its the 'same' axe. I also love how the axe is obviously the symbol of the franchise and hugely important, but you never get a sense of exactly how important it is to Andy until you read the story.

I love the entire Ship of Theseus theme, and how it feels so natural that for Andy she has to get attached to the idea of things rather than the things themselves because she'll always outlive the things themselves-- the axe is symbolically her mom's axe, even if physically it isn't. And I love how she clearly clings to that concept so tightly. "This is the labrys she held in her hands...." IT GETS ME.

And the fact that this sense of BELONGING, of FAMILY, of CULTURE is so important to Andy that she clings to it (figuratively and literally) with both hands. And of course it's important to her, she spent so long alone that the woman doesn't even remember her birth name. That axe (or the idea of that axe) is all she has left of her mother and that family/culture she was born into.

PLUS on that note I love how Andy doesn't remember if her mom was her actual biological mother, but it doesn't matter to her. This woman was her mother in all the ways that counted. And how her mom BETRAYED AND KILLED Andy but Andy loved her so much that she avenged her and carried her axe for thousands of years. THOUSANDS OF YEARS!!!!!!

I also loved how the story transcends the timeline of the whole franchise and seeing Andy through the years. Loved seeing her with the varying squads and with varying axes. Also baby Andy was so cute. It was cool seeing her so young. like holy fuck. Andromache The Scythian, Immortal Warrior (but smol). Love that.

Also I think this one is one of the few ttt stories that doesn't suffer from length problems.

tldr: goddammit greg you've done it again.

2 Zanzibar and Other Harbors

Zanzibar my beloved. I've said before, but it's downright comedic how little regard there was for Joe and Nicky's character designs in this story. The same person who does the colors for the regular comic did the colors for this one too, and you can tell, every panel of this story was Beautiful.

Ik there was A Lot of criticism of this one (lmao @ how the fandom had no idea what was to come) but I thought a lot of The Discourse was a bit dramatic. I did think Nicky came off as a little oblivious to Joe's feelings in this story, but I've said before, I honestly think that was a 'tone not translating' thing. It felt like Nicky was nagging Joe for [checks notes] saving innocent people, but Joe was so amused by Nicky's complaints I really do think it was supposed to come off as teasing.

Plus I know the 'Joe running off into danger and Nicky reluctantly following' dynamic wasn't popular (I'm a pretty meh on it meself) but I did love how Joe's impulsiveness (if you want to call it that) was interpreted as heroism and not hot-hotheadedness. All of the examples Nicky and Joe talked about included Joe explicitly saving people. (and it also took A Lot for the nazi to actually provoke Joe).

I also feel like their characterization here was closest to the movie canon-- the bit where they hear the woman scream and Joe goes running in to save her while Nicky swoops in on Joe's heels to comfort her while Joe and the nazi were fighting reminds me of the train car scene. Joe had suggested First that they go find Nile because she needed to be protected, and Nicky later added that Nile probably also needed emotional support. Similar reactions.

But it was So Good, the themes of queer community and the enduring nature of queer culture are Not themes you see in media that often and it was such a delight how it was done. Also it's one of the few more modern TTT stories that has a completely valid excuse for taking place when it did. Chef's kiss.

3 Passchendaele

I love the Duality between seeing baby Andy and then seeing Mama Andy in the very next issue. This story doesn't have a ton of meat to it, but the entire concept of Andy adopting a war orphan straight off the battlefield PLUCKS MY TENDER LITTLE HEARTSTRINGS, and I think it's especially poignant for comic!Andy. I think most people wouldn't think twice about movie!Andy doing something like that but comic Andy is so hardened and almost cruel sometimes, and seeing that even for her the world hasn't beaten all of the compassion from her yet is SO!!!!!!! this woman contains MULTITUDES okay, she's violent and angry and tired and Done but she's also so kind and compassionate and THE STRENGTH OF HER!!!!! Also the idea of her and Yitzhak co-raising a kid together is so damn cute. It was #mysterious pre-Yitzhak-story but now it's cute. holy fuck. It's cute.

& the headbonk panel of her and Zeus lives in my heart. anyways.

4 Many Happy Returns

I Know people weren't thrilled about Booker being in this one, but I've developed a pet-peeve about that: this story was *not* booker-centric. Booker only exists in this story to the extent required to explain the importance of the gesture Nile makes towards him. If there was a story about Booker making some grand gesture of kindness to Nile no one would be saying it was Nile-centric. bc it wouldn't be! Booker exists in this story to explore Nile's kindness, its not about him. I saw that a couple times and it bothered me. anyways.

AAAAAAAAAA I loved this one, the art was beautiful, I loved how Andy Nile and Booker were drawn (like their comic selves but.. more looking like actual people). I loved Andy and Nile's Bants, how Andy wanted to jump right in and Do Violence but Nile was basically telling her to hold her horses.

I feel like I'm just repeating the post I made on this story a few days ago, but I LOVED how Nile's plan revolves not around violence or Cool Mercenary Skills but on Nile's own life skills (as she canonly did a lot of minimum wage job-hopping before the marines in comics canon). Her plan used her skills, not the skills of an immortal warrior, and HER SKILLS were in fact more useful for the situation! lov to see Nile's resourcefulness and planning skills.

AND HOW NILE WAS PROBABLY WATCHING BOOKER??? it's so Much bc 1.) nile knew booker A SINGLE DAY and yet he made such an impression on her emotionally that she had to keep an eye on him and 2.) she said in the movie she wanted Booker to get off free with an apology. Yes she's a member of the team but that doesn't mean she's necessarily going to follow orders like a good little soldier. I also love how she convinced Andy to go along with it. her HEART, her KINDNESS, her THOUGHTFULNESS, UGH.

5 The Bear

Honestly I have like no negative things to say about this one other than a.) character design issues which is less about the story itself and is more of a 'tog comic in general' criticism and b.) too short, but it was supposed to be a tease, so.

But I loved Yitzhak, I wasn't expecting to really like him at all but like I said in my other post, he tickled me. I love characters who are Kind™, especially if they have little reason to be so given their backgrounds. Chef's kiss. Lov him.

6 Bonsai Shokunin

I know this one was a little controversial bc of the outsider POV but whenever I see people upset about that they never point out that the Outsider Guy (the samurai) existed as a reflection on Noriko. His ideas are explained in the text to develop hers. The whole story follows how she gave mercy to a scared young man and in response he murdered Noriko, repeatedly! Who gave him the right to inflict such pain and suffering on the world? In his opinion, the lack of response from the gods was his permission. And for Noriko-- over and over again she dies and suffers because she gave mercy, which lines up with her ideas in FM about how it's their fate to rule mortals and if they don't align with that plan/fate/whatever then they suffer. It shows some background to those ideas and how they developed in her mind outside of Ocean Madness™. Additionally, his idea of 'the Gods have done nothing to strike me down so it's fine if I do these things' kind of explains how Noriko may justify her own morally corrupt actions-- she's died so many times and it's never stuck. Maybe if she did die any of those times, or while she was in the water, maybe that would've been a sign she was doing something right, or at least doing something normal. But she hasn't died. Fate isn't done with Noriko yet. And maybe there's a reason for that. In her mind, it's just not a very pleasant reason, is all.

There were things I was kind of meh about tho. I did kind of wish we saw something of Noriko and the team, or smth explaining the way she was before her dip in the pool-- personality, likes dislikes, etc. but it wasn't bad or anything. It was super vague tho, I had to read it a few times before I got what it was going for. Liked the art. Liked the bonsai metaphor. And of course I Respect the decision to use the 1300s (1200s? I don't remember off the top of my head) rather than using the last 200 years.

7 Strong Medicine

Honestly looking back, this one made me kind of sad because both this one and Bonsai Shokunin explored character's ideas on Fate and The Divine and how that intersects with immortality and I totally thought that theme would be continued, especially with Love Letters. But Then It Wasn't™.

Admittedly.... I had to re-read this one to remember most of it. I liked Booker's ideas on God, 'The conductor of the symphony just may not be very good at his trade' but the plot itself was kind of forgettable. Some fuckin cowboys try to kill a doctor (their second) because he couldn't save their sickly brother. Book tries to stop them, gets killed, and then comes back and kills them all before they get the doctor. Alright. I liked the artstyle because the characters were ugly in a similar way that leandro's are, but way more bearable.

I love the Irony of Booker concluding that there is no such thing as fate or destiny and nothing has meaning, AS HE UNKNOWINGLY SAVES MERRICK'S GRANDFATHER FROM BEING KILLED. Booker getting fucked over by life/god/destiny yet again. It also kind of explains about where the fuck hell Merrick's interest in immortal mercenaries even came from.

I originally had this one a lot higher and then I thought about it and moved it down like two spots.

8 Never Gets Old

I liked seeing Booker interact with his kid. And we got a name for the kid! Philippe was a little bitch though, he was a little obnoxious. I liked how Booker was so thrilled to experience a restaurant with his kid (and since we know he was there before, it can be assumed he went with all of his kids and yet he was so charmed each time). It fits with his line to Nicky in the moon landing story about how you don't appreciate beautiful things 'unless you have someone to share them with'. It was charming to see Booker interact with his kid, and to see him so happy. Also lmao @ Booker's big fat Ye Olde Crush on Andy.

However at the same time it was like.. of all the things to write about,,, I guess? Booker's Night Out...... alright. Especially since Book had so many stories.

I don't know, it was alright. The old man killing him really came out of nowhere, (but the 'Salut, asshole!' panel was funny tho).

9 How To Make a Ghost Town

I've hit a point where talking about these stories has gotten less fun. I liked this one but I felt like Achilles getting lynched was not really necessary for a story that was already tragic (a story that already involved Achilles doing a lot of suffering at the hand of bigots). When we first got the blurb for this story I thought it would be about Andy returning to the squad and making friends with Booker after losing Achilles and them butting heads on the idea of family and when to cut off ties. So a little bit of my underwhelmedness about this one might be just my expectations being different.

Honestly I was pretty interested in Andy and Achilles' relationship and I would've liked to see more of them-- like, what was their dynamic like? What did they love about each other?

But anyways Andy leaving and Achilles getting killed anyways feels so pointlessly tragic (which I suppose is the point..... I don't like tragedies) she left to save him and yet people killed him anyway. Meh.

I did love the bits about Andy wanting to have a domestic life (Andy and her multitudes again) and the little detail about how she buried her axe near the road but he buried his guns under his bed-- he was an escaped slave, he never had the luxury of assuredness like Andy did. It was a sad story.

10 Lacus Solitudinis

'You put this one above love letters crim??? how could you???' easy, lmao.

There was stuff in this one I liked. But to talk about stuff I didn't like: (I'll keep it brief, I know ragging on this story has been done time and time again)

UH, setting aside the 6 year cold shoulder between Joe and Nicky, I thought their chosen method of conflict resolution was... bad at best. Nicky's inability to talk about his feelings was also annoying, especially since the entire point of this story is a fight Joe and Nicky had, and yet we don't get both sides to the story, which is...... important? That fact is especially annoying bc in the absence of Nicky explaining his side of the story, it's absolutely a possible (and admittedly probably unintentional) interpretation of the text that we do get that Joe routinely resolves conflict between him and Nicky by simply cutting Nicky out of his life entirely until Nicky just. caves? Even if it takes years?

WHICH i could get into that interpretation and how fucked up i find it. but im not going to. out of restraint.

I don't know, I think there are a lot of interesting ways to go about this conflict but 'Nicky wants to kill a guy and Joe refuses to acknowledge his existence until he stops because he thinks Nicky is too much of a Good Boy to get his hands dirty like that' ('I wont watch as the world turns his (...) compassion into something ugly'. ) wasn't.. how I would've done it. (I mean you know Joe doesn't give a shit about what Nicky is doing in a moral way, because Joe doesn't even care or mention that Booker is killing those cops too. Joe only cares because he doesn't like the idea of Nicky changing in a way he finds undesirable.)

admittedly I've said before, I do like the emphasis Joe's reaction puts on Nicky's kindness. Joe has a complete inability to cope with Nicky simply Not Being Kind. It speaks to the steadiness of Nicky's compassion all those years. but still that fact doesn't make it the conflict feel worth it

hm. I said I would be brief and I wasn't.

oh well. basically I thought there was interesting conflict potential there but it wasn't done the way I would've liked, and the way it was done leaves a lot of disturbing (and again probably unintended) interpretations to lie.

What I did like? Andy and Joe having that pessimist/optimist dynamic. Joe nerding out about science. Andy not being impressed by The Achievements Of Man. I loved Booker needling at Nicky about his outdated slang and also trying to give him Older Brother advice practically in the same breath. I loved Booker giving The Worst relationship advice ever and Nicky being like 'I Will Not Do That, Ever, Thanks.' the family vibes were so good. The Joenicky vibes left a lot to be desired tho.

11 Love Letters

I talked about my problems with Nicky in this story (and Lacus Solitudinis). I don't know, the story isn't bad but I do hold a little bit of a grudge towards it because its very existence begs the existence of a solo Joe story and we didn't get one. If we never got this story, then we could happily count Lacus Solitudinis and Zanzibar as The Joenicky Stories™ and move on with our lives. sigh.

I remember when we first got the blurb for this story I was really curious about why Nicky specifically + the setting, and the answer kind of feels like 'the author had an idea for a story like this and saw ttt as a good enough place to utilize that idea'. Plus I was really underwhelmed by the Romantic Sentiment in the letter. If you look at it line-by-line, the majority of the letter is actually Nicky talking about how lonely and disturbed he is, rather than actual,, yknow,,, Romantic Sentiment. I mean, compare the van speech and this letter and this letter is just kind of meh in comparison. I liked nicky calling joe wise! and I liked the brief sun/moon metaphor! and otherwise it was eh. It didn't even have cute squad banter, which is why Lacus Solitudinis is above this one.

12 An Old Soul

Nun orgy. Nun orgy?????? Nun orgy.......

The whole story felt like a setup to have a nun orgy. Why did Booker have abs? Why did they do that to Andy's nose? ?????? the art was good at least.

nun orgy.

[queenmolina]

bobby was in the system 

i’m going into detail about how i imagine it just because that’s what anon asked me to do - if you think this might be upsetting then i advise you to stop reading here <3

i’m going to preempt this with some disclaimers

- i’m british so my pov of the system will be wrong, i’m not even going to try and translate it

- i’m not picking out sad/tragic things to be deliberately upsetting for the sake of an angsty backstory, this is just genuinely how i choose to imagine it happening 

- this is a compilation of my friend and i semi-projecting onto our shared comfort character. im more than happy to share this because i really like this take for bobby, but please be sensitive in any comments you might make in (more for other people’s sake - im comfortable to discuss any of the content)

bobby doesn’t remember his parents. he lived with them for a time and from what people have told him, they were a really happy family. his mom was a therapist and his dad was an author. there are photos of the two of them smiling happily at the camera - some even had a small, baby-faced bobby bouncing on their knee, though they called him robin. it’s on all of his certificates, all of the documents. his name is robin. it doesn’t feel right

when he’s three, bobby’s parents pass. he thinks it must have been some kind of accident - to take them both in one go - but he doesn’t get offered any explanation. he’s almost immediately fostered into a family but there’s so many kids there that it’s basically a foster home. he’s one of the youngest and is immediately babied by all of the older kids which is where he starts to be selective about physical affection/contact with other people

he stays there until he’s six. all of the kids there get moved about when their ‘parents’ (it’s what the kids were told to call them but it never really applied) decided they actually weren’t cut out to look after a dozen children and threw in the towel

six year olds are a bit middle of the range in terms of how quickly people foster/adopt them but bobby’s gained a bit of a reputation for being ‘tricky to manage’ because he’s so fussy - he’s not fussy, he just wants people to stop mollycoddling him and give him some peace and quiet. he stays in a foster home for a year until eventually a couple take him in. but it doesn’t last long - they say bobby acts out and all of a sudden he’s back on the front step with his shopping bag of possessions and they’re passing ‘robin’ back as though he’s a library book and not a child

from the ages of eight to twelve, he gets passed back and forth from one place to the next. some are better than others, obviously. there’s the malone’s where the only other kid is their 17 year old biological daughter who thankfully doesnt much care for ambushing bobby like some of the others had. there’s the harper’s where bobby’s surprised they even passed the social worker visit because the house is a tip - but the carers are nice and he has his own room. there’s the vegaro’s who he even allows himself to hug when he had to leave. the rest of them aren’t even worth remembering. they never lasts, even the nice ones always go wrong. he’s back in the foster home every time he begins to get settled

when he’s twelve, the rate at which he gets fostered slows again. he sidles along with the older kids who seem to have given up hope and spend their days causing trouble or sneaking out of the home just because they can. bobby doesn’t go with them for a few months - until he realises that it’s fine. no one will care if he disappears for a few hours. will they even care if he doesn’t come back at all?

on his thirteenth birthday, one of the carers helps him gather his stuff from his bunk and shove it all into a bag. he’s fed up of trying to find a real home so when a woman shows up to take him, he doesn’t even try for a smile

it’s his aunt. his biological family. she has the same soft features as his mother in the photos and the same dark, pin-straight hair. somehow it manages to hurt more when she wrinkles her nose at his attempts of a conversation

her husband is nice. jerry, his name is. a portly man with a receding hairline and a frequent habit for offering bobby a sip of his beer. he’s not related to bobby by blood but it’s nice to feel like someone’s on his side

his aunt hates him. she doesn’t say it out loud - not when bobby’s in the room - but he sees how she looks at him. he hears her arguing with jerry about him sometimes and saying nasty things about his mother too. she and jerry seem to fall out a lot

she leaves one day. and doesn’t come back.

for once, bobby doesn’t get sent back to the foster home. if anything, he feels more welcomed once his aunt had gone. he and jerry feel like family - a little strained but bobby thinks that must be how all families feel. they watch tv together and even share hobbies. jerry even bought him a guitar, something brand new and for bobby and not second hand. bobby was worried he would have to give it back when the time came for him to return to the home but that wasn’t something to worry about right now. he meets jerry’s friends and family and for once, bobby feel like he has a family of his own

this is also the longest he’s ever stayed at one school. he thinks he might be making friends (he can call them friends this time, they’re not allies. they’re friends)

when he’s fifteen, jerry passes. he hadn’t been very well, it had been getting worse. bobby had seen that it was coming and had half-packed a bag before it had even happened

his new friends from school come to the funeral and sit with him on the front row of pews. alex - who was a foot taller than the rest of them - cowers a little from all of the attention. luke pulls at his sleeves and collar, clearly uncomfortable in the fancy get up, but he offers a sad smile whenever bobby catches his eye. reggie isn’t sure what to make of the whole thing but he can see that bobby’s upset and their shoulders knock together whenever reggie wants to remind him he’s not alone. at one point, bobby even takes reggies hand in his. he would be embarrassed or uncomfortable at the contact except he’s lost his family and he’s probably going to lose his friends too

instead of going back to the group home, he’s asked to move in with jerry’s mother, althea

she has a pretty big house and a garage which she converts into a space for bobby to hang out. he’s still unused to having his own room so to have two feels a little overwhelming. he invites his friends over to fill the space and when luke asks to start a band, bobby allows him to convert the garage into a makeshift studio. althea doesn’t mind, in fact she encourages it.

bobby isn’t the best at putting his thoughts into words but he can put them into action so when the boys start having trouble at home, he makes one thing very clear: the studio is their home. the studio belongs to all of them and if they ever need a place to stay, they should stay here. this is their home, where they’re loved and looked after. bobby tells them this in fewer words but he hopes they understand

(he’s not sure why the boys are so upset about their home lives - bobby would do anything to be with his parents. that is until he sees alex stifling hot tears or luke choking up over his test results or reggie knocking on his bedroom window at two am, desperate to escape the noise. then he gets it)

luke moves in and bobby starts carting his dinners to the studio to eat. althea pretends not to notice that there’s another boys clothes in her laundry loads and just starts doubling bobby’s food portion to make sure they both get enough

then it goes wrong. and bobby loses another family.

althea teaches him things to keep him distracted. she shows him how to knit, teaches him more tagalog, more recipes. it does nothing to make him feel better but he could never tell her that. he’s grateful for every moment she spends with him. she didn’t owe him anything and yet she took him in. the least he could do is try to smile and forget about his boys for a moment. for her. 

she’s the one that encourages him to keep creating music, to make them a legacy they can be remembered by. it doesn’t work out that way in the end and she’s the only person that understands how the guilt weighs him down quite so much

years later, when he’s told that he’s going to be a father, his first thought is to run. he can barely cope with being responsible for himself, let alone another person. but it wasn’t his choice, she was going to have the baby. he was going to be a father

carrie is three when her mother leaves. it feels like another cruel twist of fate, like a knife in his gut. he always wondered when it would be his turn to go. he’s 29 and maybe he should’ve gone 26 years ago with his parents, or 14 years ago with jerry, or 12 years ago with his boys. but he would not let carrie have his struggles. so he cries to althea alone and puts on a brave face for his daughter

[expectingtofly]

Incident at Playgroup

2.8k

fluff, established dean/cas, baby jack, human!cas, cas and dean terrorize other parents

dedicated to @thiscastielhasflown bc a few weeks ago we talked about tfw’s mcdonald’s orders and this fic happened. wishing you a good week with schoolwork assignments that only take half the time you expect them to, eventual restful sleep, and good grades <3

also posted on ao3

“Clown!” Jack yelled, pointing at the entrance to the McDonald’s indoor play area. A Ronald McDonald cardboard cutout guarded the door, holding a sign reading, You must be this tall to enter.

“Inside voice,” Dean said, though he wasn’t sure it mattered much when he could hardly hear himself speak. Recently, they’d joined a playgroup of parents and kids from Jack’s preschool, and this weekend, some of the moms had organized a playdate at the McDonald’s in town, one with a huge play area.

Meaning, they were now surrounded by screaming kids, diaper bags, and stressed out parents.

Dean winced as a kid shrieked from across the room. “We need to take a photo of you next to ol’ Ronald to show Sam.”

“Okay,” Jack agreed, jumping up and down in his chair.

Coming over with the tray of their food, Cas put out a hand to steady Jack’s chair. “That would be unnecessarily cruel."

Dean grabbed his Big Mac. “Yeah, well, he deserves it.” Before they’d come here today, Sam had repeatedly told them, quote, “please don't fuck this up again." Always was a polite bastard. “He’s gotta have more faith in us. What are we, amateurs?”

“Unfortunately, I believe that’s the point,” Cas said, sitting down and giving Jack his Happy Meal. “We don’t have the best track record with these sort of things.”

These ‘sort of things’ being playgroups. 

So, they’d tried a couple that hadn’t worked out. “Not like it’s our fault,” he said. “Take a seat, kid.” Jack ignored him, jumping in his seat as he waved to another toddler sitting nearby.

Cas beamed, holding onto the back of the chair. “He’s making friends, that’s a good sign.”

“Kid could make friends with a blank wall,” Dean said, but Cas was right—making friends was the whole point they were here. While Jack could make friends with just about anyone and anything—every crayon had a name and backstory, Cas’ trenchcoat was taken on make-believe-adventures, and the Impala could apparently talk, if Jack’s one-sided conversations during long car rides was anything to go off of—it was true that Jack was lacking in the friends-that-aren’t-hunters-or-over-a-decade-older category. There weren’t exactly many toddlers running around the bunker.

Hence, why they were spending their Saturday afternoon at the Hell on Earth known as McDonald's PlayPlace.

Jack held out the bag of apple slices that came in his Happy Meal. “Open.”

Dean stared him down and Jack added, “Peas.”

Close enough. Taking the bag, Dean told Cas, “Don’t look now, but Amanda is handing out brochures for Pampered Chef again.” According to Sam, that was another reason this playdate had to be a success—making friends with the right parents meant getting invited to more playdates and whatever other random events the parents came up with. It was like a weird society Dean had never known existed until Jack started preschool and started interacting with other kids his own age.

“I saw you using the food processor the other day,” Cas said, glancing over his shoulder to look despite Dean’s warning. Dean rolled his eyes. “I think it’s ingenious.”

“I’m not going to another two hour cooking demonstration.“

“Sam said we need to make a good impression.”

“He can go buy overpriced kitchen tools then.” It was a little too convenient that Sam had gotten out of taking Jack to this playdate—Dean had a suspicion that the multiple Ronald McDonalds stationed around had something to do with that.

He tried to hand Jack the apples, but Jack pointed at the play area. “Wanna play!”

“You have to finish your food,” Dean told him. Crossing his arms, Jack glared at him and stomped his foot on the chair.

“Just eat two more nuggets,” Cas told him. He picked up his filet-o-fish sandwich and glanced at Dean. “What?”

“You’re spoiling him.”

Jack stuffed his face with two chicken nuggets, which prompted Cas to give Dean a look. “Well, you’re teaching him bad table manners.”

Just to be obnoxious, Dean shoved half of his burger into his mouth in one bite. Jack laughed at him and Cas rolled his eyes.

“Done!” Jack announced, and Cas pushed his chair back so he could escape.

“These play places are gross,” Dean said, swallowing. “He’s gonna catch a disease.”

“Good thing he can’t get sick,” Cas said, watching Jack clamber up some stairs to reach a slide.

“Yeah, well I can,” Dean retorted. Jack went down the slide with a squeal. Landing at the bottom, he waved at them and Dean waved back.

“The Winchesters are here!” someone called too cheerily and Dean rolled his eyes, turning to see Ashley walking over. Lady thought she ran the group, always recruiting parents to bring snacks and toys to playdates. A little too high and mighty when Dean knew for a fact that the cupcakes she'd brought last week were store-bought.

Settling down into the seat next to them, she asked, “I wasn’t expecting you two today. Where’s Sam?”

Dean resisted rolling his eyes. Of course Sam was everyone’s favorite. Wasn’t his fault Sam was better at feigning interest in grocery lists and laundry piles. Parenting was hard enough without getting subjected to the unique torture of playgroup small talk.

“Him and Eileen went on a weekend trip,“ Cas answered easily and Dean nodded. They’d long given up trying to explain to others why Jack had a rotating list of parental figures accompanying him to playgroup, figuring if the other parents thought they were in a weird cult situation, at least that was better than them knowing the truth—like the fact that Sam and Eileen were away hunting a rugaru in Missouri. Though they were going to run out of excuses soon for why playgroup couldn’t be hosted at their place—an underground bunker with enough weapons to hold off an army.

“Well,” Ashley said, “I’m glad you guys were able to make it.” Yeah, that was a fake smile.

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Dean said, plastering on his own fake smile. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.” Cas kicked him under the table.

“We’ve loved having Jack in the group,” Ashley said, and that might not be a fake sentiment. Jack could charm anyone. “Such a sweetheart. Lily adores him.” She smiled at where Jack and her daughter Lily were crawling through a tunnel at the top of the play area.

“Jack, no!” Dean called, seeing Jack stick his fingers in his mouth. “I’m so getting sick,” he muttered under his breath.

He was trying to come up with an excuse to get away as Ashley pulled out her phone to show them a new post on her mommy blog—boring, same old content. Give him a blog and he’d actually have something interesting to say—when he heard familiar crying from across the play area.

Without a second thought, he was pushing back his chair and rushing over, squeezing past playing kids and their parents to find Jack sitting on the floor bawling his eyes out and a bigger kid standing over him.

“What the hell happened here?” he demanded. He went to pick up Jack, but Cas was already swooping in and grabbing him.

“He pushed me!” Jack managed through his sobs, and Dean turned on the older kid.

“What the hell’s your problem?” The kid’s baleful expression faltered. He took a step back and Dean advanced on him. “You get off on making kids half your size cry?”

“Don’t speak to my son that way!” someone exclaimed, pushing through the crowd of kids and parents to glare at them. “What’s going on?”

“Your son is a menace,” Cas told the woman—Denise. Playgroup gossip said her son had gotten held back from kindergarten due to his inability to ‘play nice with others.’ Jack’s crying had subdued to sniffles, but Cas still held onto him like he might break apart. “He was bullying our son.”

“I’m sure it was an accident.” She put her hand on the kid’s shoulder. “You didn’t mean to hurt him, right, Tommy?”

Tommy only glared at them, and Dean glared right back. “He needs to apologize to Jack,” Cas said.

“Tommy, apologize.”

After several long, drawn out seconds, Tommy muttered, looking down at his feet, “Sorry.”

“I don’t think that was a real apology,” Cas said.

“It’s not my fault Jack’s a crybaby,” Tommy shot back.

“You little—” Dean started

“Take that back,” Cas snapped, and if he wasn’t human, Dean would’ve expected his eyes to start glowing fiery blue. Denise’s eyes grew wide, her grip on Tommy’s shoulder tightening.

“Is there a problem here?” someone asked, and Dean turned to see a McDonald’s employee hurrying over.

“Yeah, this kid shoved our son,” Dean said. “And he’s being a little shit about it.”

The employee’s expression turned shocked and Dean heard a few gasps from the parents that had crowded around to see the commotion. “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave,” the employee stammered. “This is a kid’s play area, we won’t tolerate fighting here.”

“We were already going,” Cas said haughtily. He glared at Denise. “And if 'Tommy' ever lays a hand on Jack again, he will be sorry.” Jack’s expression was eerily similar to Cas’ as they shot twin glares at Tommy, and Dean thought he caught a spark in Jack’s eyes.

“Let’s go,” he said, taking Cas’ elbow and guiding him through the crowd of spectators before Jack tried to incinerate the kid. He wasn’t sure if that was one of Jack’s powers or not, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out in a crowded McDonald’s. Even if the snot-nosed kid deserved it.

The staff behind the counter was watching along with everyone else in the store, the once noisy place now brought to tense stillness. Cas snatched up the rest of their food and Dean knew they were already on the verge of getting the cops called on them, but he couldn’t resist turning and jabbing his finger at the little brat. “And don’t you ever fucking touch Jack again!”

Cas shot Denise and Tommy another look, Jack copying it over his shoulder, and Dean let the door slam shut behind them.

“I can’t believe the audacity of that woman,” Cas raged, strapping Jack into his carseat. Dean grabbed the wipes and leaned over the front seat to wipe Jack’s hands before he touched everything and spread germs around. “And her kid is exactly the same!”

Jack craned his neck to look back at the McDonald’s as Cas finished strapping him in. “Play!”

Getting into the passenger seat, Cas slammed the door shut. “You will not be going back there, not when those children are around. Dean was right, these play places are vile.”

“You alright, kid?” Dean asked Jack, shutting the wipe container.

Jack kicked his feet against the seat. “Hungry.”

Cas pulled out the container of Jack’s half-eaten chicken nuggets and Dean protested, thinking of a fateful day with a bag of cheerios—he was still finding them in every nook and cranny of the car. “No eating in the backseat.”

“He’s just been through a traumatic experience,” Cas said, handing the container to Jack. “We can make an exception.”

“Fine,” Dean muttered, gripping the steering wheel as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I always knew Denise was shifty. You saw the way she was trying to spin the story, making it out like it wasn’t her kid’s fault? Fucking asshole.”

“Asshole!” Jack agreed cheerfully from the backseat.

“That’s not a nice word, Jack,” Cas said. Quieter, he added, “But it’s accurate.” He pulled out his phone. “I’m gonna send a message to the playgroup chat. Tommy’s behavior can’t be tolerated. Soon all the kids are going to become bullies.”

“He needs to be taught a lesson,” Dean agreed, glancing at Jack as he stopped at a red light, trying not to flinch at the crumbs on Jack’s lap that threatened to fall to the floor. “Needs to get knocked down by someone. Hear that, Jack? We’re gonna teach you how to fight back.”

Jack nodded. “I can fight!” He waved a chicken nugget around in mock punches and Dean gave up any hope of keeping the backseat clean.

“Maybe we can convince the other parents to kick Denise and her son out of the—Oh.” Dean looked over at him and Castiel winced. “We’ve been blocked from the group chat.”

“That makes three of them,” Dean muttered, pushing the accelerator as the light turned green. “We’re gonna end up on some blacklist soon.”

First playgroup, Jack had set a couch on fire. Since the "baby god testing out his powers” explanation wasn’t gonna fly, they went with the tried and true, “playing with matches” excuse. Didn’t stop the group from voting to kick them out.

Second playgroup, Cas had gotten in a fiery debate over the ethicality of beekeeping, and what was Dean supposed to do? Not back him up? He hadn't known you could get kicked out of the zoo for "disorderly conduct."

Alright, maybe Sam’s fears that they’d fuck up this playdate too weren’t completely off base.

“I think it’s time we give playgroups a rest,” he decided.

"But Jack needs to make friends."

"He's already got us, and Claire and Kaia and Alex and—"

"Charlie!" Jack added from the backseat.

"Charlie," Dean agreed. "He's got plenty of friends." Cas only stared him down with a particular smitey look in his eyes, and though Dean knew there wasn't a real threat behind the gaze, he sighed. "Fine. We’ll try again.”

"I already had one in mind," Cas said, brightening. "In case this one didn't work out."

“Done!” Jack yelled.

“Inside voice,” Dean said automatically. “Wait, you had a backup plan?"

“Yes,” Cas said, taking the empty container of chicken nuggets from Jack. “I thought it wise considering our track record. It’s a smaller group than this one was—Here, Jack, you want my ice cream?”

“Dude, seriously?” Dean protested as Cas handed an Oreo McFlurry back to Jack, who excitedly held out his hands. “That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Not necessarily,” Cas said. “I don’t think we’re that destined to fail again—Oh, you mean the ice cream.” He glanced at Jack, who was dripping ice cream onto his lap with every spoonful. “Um. Traumatic experience?”

Dean wasn’t falling for that excuse a second time. He started to say so, but Cas wasn’t listening, picking up his phone as it beeped several times in quick succession.

“What?” Dean asked, seeing a slow frown cross Cas' face as he stared at the screen.

Cas held up his phone to show several texts in a row. “We’re in trouble.”

On cue, Dean’s phone started ringing, the screen lighting up to display Sam’s name. Fuck.

“Sam would like to know why we’re all blocked from the group chat,” Cas said unhelpfully, and Dean rejected the call.

“Good luck explaining why.”

“Maybe the problem is us,” Cas said slowly. He met Dean’s eyes, then they both shook their heads.

“No, it’s those stupid parents,” Dean said.

“And their insufferable children,” Cas agreed.

“Insufferable!” Jack agreed from the backseat, ice cream smeared across his chin. Or that’s what Dean thought he was repeating, the word losing a few syllables along the way.

“Not you, Jack,” Cas said. “Every playgroup would be lucky to have you.”

“Just, they apparently don’t know it,” Dean pointed out. “Or we wouldn’t keep getting kicked out.”

His phone started ringing again, as if to remind him of the fact, and he looked pointedly at Cas. “You deal with him.”

“No, you,” Cas said.

“For fuck’s sake,” Dean muttered. Then he had an idea.

“Hey, Jack, tell Sam about what you saw today.” He turned on speakerphone and handed back his phone, not even caring that Jack’s hands were a sticky mess. Okay, maybe he cared a little, but that’s why the Impala now always held wipes in the glove box.

Jack grabbed his phone eagerly. “Sam!” he crowed. “Guess what I saw!”

Dean caught Sam’s voice over the phone. “What—Jack, hey, where’s Dean?”

“Clowns!” Jack said, waving his ice cream spoon around. “Clowns everywhere!”

“Very mature,” Cas told Dean.

Dean shrugged. “Buys us some time.”

“That’s nice, Jack, but put Dean on,” Sam said. Jack started to give the phone back, and Cas whispered,

“Tell him about the slide.”

“Sam, Sam! I went on a slide!” Dean gave him a thumbs up in the rearview mirror and Jack copied it.

“Dean! I know you can hear me!” Sam yelled as Jack continued on about his eventful day.

“We’re horrible influences,” Cas said, unsuccessfully fighting back a smile.

“Nah,” Dean said. “We’re the best.”

tag list

@becky-srs @xojo @marvelnaturalock @aelysianmuse @prayedtoyou @letsjustdieeveryone @good-things-do-happen-dean @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @theninthdutchessofhell @madronasky @famouspsychicpizzabandit @multifandomdisorder @arcticfox007  @improvedpeanut @castiel-is-a-cat @harmonyhelms @thetrueliesofafangirl @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @confusedisaster @welcome-to-crowleys-hellhole @celestialcastiel @wormstacheangel

let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list :)

[severusish]

AND ANOTHER THING

yeah same anon as a couple days ago

anyways

i found how i should have phrased it in a slightly more eloquent way so here goes part two

1 - it's about the fucking cycle of violence okay?

i see people being like "yeah but X from HP (or some other show/book) also had a tragic backstory and they didn't start being mean to little kids". (eg the teacher from matilda who has "deep dark secret but doesn't let it influence her teaching") except the point is people react to abuse in different ways. it's not always "my abuse made me kinder". like harry and voldemort and snape all had pretty terrible childhoods because of the muggle(s) they were with as children. like yeah you could argue that while harry was abused at the dursleys at least he made some real friends at hogwarts meanwhile snape got one (1) friend and then got swept along into a cult while the bullying went on (and you could also argue that at least snape had his mom and wasn't abused by both his guardians + their son like harry was), but that's not what matters, the matter isn't who was hurt the most, it's not everybody will react to abuse in the same way

and honestly i'm kinda glad he was written this way because people tend to assume that being bullied/being abused automatically makes you a nicer person because "you know what it's like to suffer uwu" and yeah in theory that's how it works but in practice it doesn't work like that and on the one hand i think it's cool to see examples of it and on the other hand i think the characters who had the chance to become more evil but instead CHOOSE to be as kind as they can deserve more credit

2 - the reveal that Snape wasn't JUST an evil git brewing potions in the dungeons who hates Harry's guts for no reason didn't happen in a vaccum.

it kinda starts in fifth year, it happens around the same time we start to feel like Dumbledore is less reliable and nice than we're led to believe at first (doesn't allow ron and hermione to send harry letters, is kinda cold at the trial, and even throughout the year, etc) it's "the awful evil teacher is not 100% Evil and the kind and grandfatherly headmaster is not 100% Good". (same with snape vs james tbh. you go from "talented young man and prankster" to "yeah and a bully too")

and then again in seventh year when we learn that dumbledore was besties with grindelwald and needed harry to die meanwhile snape used to be besties with harry's mom and wanted harry to live

it's all about making characters NUANCED!

also most of what we learn about characters is from other characters and so what they say can be incorrect for many reasons (maybe they wanted to hide the truth (for "good" or "bad" reasons), maybe they don't have the full picture, maybe they made assumptions, maybe they just want to paint a positive picture of someone who has already passed away (instead of hitting harry with a "btw your godfather and dad bullied their classmate and nearly got them killed. so you just live with that until the day you die, have fun, lol" for example), etc.)

anyways i think i've said everything now :D it was pretty nice to get it off my chest (a second time lol)

also for the record i don't even consider or have ever considered myself a snape lover, i just like when characters are nuanced and i dislike when people pick only one aspect and ignore everything else and say "man bad" or something.

same with dumbledore tbh sometimes i see him depicted as this kind of evil coldhearted man who spends most of his day thinking of ways to screw harry's life (nevermind that he has a job and stuff to do, probably) like the guy has spent like half a century being a school teacher/headmaster surely you don't spend that long doing something without actually enjoying it in some way?

(to be fair i'm not sure fanfictions with dumbledore bashing accurately represent how people feel about him (sometimes you just need a villain and if there isn't one you take a character and you turn him into one) but still sometimes it's just cartoonishly evil to the point i can't suspend my disbelief anymore lol)

okay anon out for real now

bisous et passe une bonne soirée !

Nice to see you again, Anon!

(For those of you who don't know, I'm French, and Anon knew this, which is why Anon wrote to me in French when they signed off.)

ANYWAY!

Tbh, Anon, I have nothing to add to this, an excellent train of thought.

Main points that I like:

the matter isn't who was hurt the most, it's not everybody will react to abuse in the same way

THIS.

the reveal that Snape wasn't JUST an evil git brewing potions in the dungeons who hates Harry's guts for no reason didn't happen in a vaccum.

exactly, we start seeing signs of Snape's true allegiances at least in fifth year, when umbridge turns up.

it kinda starts in fifth year, it happens around the same time we start to feel like Dumbledore is less reliable and nice than we're led to believe at first (doesn't allow ron and hermione to send harry letters, is kinda cold at the trial, and even throughout the year, etc) it's "the awful evil teacher is not 100% Evil and the kind and grandfatherly headmaster is not 100% Good". (same with snape vs james tbh. you go from "talented young man and prankster" to "yeah and a bully too")

yep. things are never black and white. almost everything in life is grey.

and then again in seventh year when we learn that dumbledore was besties with grindelwald and needed harry to die meanwhile snape used to be besties with harry's mom and wanted harry to live

^ ooFFFF

And then this:

also for the record i don't even consider or have ever considered myself a snape lover, i just like when characters are nuanced and i dislike when people pick only one aspect and ignore everything else and say "man bad" or something.

I like nuanced characters too. I don't consider myself "Snape obsessed," but I do consider myself an avid "Snape defender." Primarily for the exact reason you mentioned; picking on one aspect of the character and ignoring the rest is closed-minded and a narrow way of understanding his story.

Go off Anon.

Et merci, d'ailleurs. Toi aussi! bisous xx

Thanks for reading,

- Severusish

[cinnella]

Name: Eris Zaramoza (chosen name); Yin Abo (birth name)

Age: 26 years old

Sex: Female

Sexuality: Pansexual

Zodiac sign: Scorpio

Birthday: November 5th

Patron Arcana:

Death (Major); Queen of Cups (Minor)

Occupation: Magician and Shopkeeper; Former Necromancer

Height: 5'7" (1.71 m)

Weight: 64 kg (141 lbs)

Relatives:

Sethos Abo - older brother

Nuwa Abo - mother (deceased)

Kek Abo - father (deceased)

Xié Dongmei - aunt (deceased)

Origin: Born in Venterre, but grew up in Vesuvia

Race: Half chinese, half egyptian

Powers: Blue (astrology) and purple (divination) magic. Also has an affinity for controlling and summoning water

Intelligence Level: On a scale from 1 to 10, she's a 7

Backstory:

She was born in a small home in Venterre. Her father was already dead at the time of her birth, her brother only 5 years old and her mother deadly sick.

Only two days after her birth, her mom passed away, from the lack of proper medication. Sethos knew that she was way too young for him to take care of, so he tried to seek out their aunt, who lived on the other side of the city.

That night, he sat under a makeshift shelter with his baby sister, but he was so hungry that he had no other choice but to leave her there and try to find some food. Eventually, Yin started crying, which a passerby heard and when they found her, they took her with them.

Sethos was utterly crushed when he came back and she was gone... He tried to look for her, but he was so exhausted that he passed out in the middle of the street. Luckily, he was found by a woman with children and brought to her place.

When he had woken up, he explained his situation to her. The next morning, the woman helped him travel to his aunt's home. But by the time he got there and told her what happened to his sister and mother, Yin was already on a ship heading towards Vesuvia.

There, she was brought to an orphanage, in the South End, where multiple kids and babies from different places had been found, to be taken care of by people whom founded the building. She grew up a rather lonesome troublemaker. The caretakers were kind people, but the kids were mean. So she had no friends.

Soon enough, the adults had realized that most of the kids had no names, couldn't remember them or never knew them. So they took to liberty to name them, but because there were about 30 children and 15 adults, there was a lot of confusion and mis-naming.

They decided to teach the kids to read and write when they were old enough to understand the concepts, and on their 7th birthday, they'd choose their definitive name, something that they felt represented them.

And so, Yin Abo became Eris Zaramoza.

On that day, she met two kids that both looked younger than her. One was small and frail. Porcelain skin, black hair, mismatched eyes. Her name had been Saiya. The other was slightly taller than her. Umber skin, magenta eyes, jet black hair. The caretakers often called him Sykes. They were both known troublemakers and apparently, best friends.

They offered her to become friends and although she'd been sketchy about it, she agreed. They were her first friends, after all.

Years later, the three of them became inseparable and two new children joined their group, both of them noticeably younger. One had skin the color of limestone, ashy blond hair and silverish eyes. The other had dark espresso skin, curly chestnut hair and jade green eyes.

They were often referred to as "accidental troublemakers" because they did naughty things without even realizing it. These four kids became her kin, her family. For years upon years, the five of them brought migraines to the entirety of Vesuvia with their shenanigans. They were known as "the southenders".

The orphanage had a set rule. Despite the caretakers doing their best and raising the kids as their own, by the time Eris reached her adolescence, the amount of kids had doubled.

The set rule was that, once the kids would turn 17, they'd have to seek a home of their own. Eris is the eldest between her and her friends, so she had to leave first.

Heartbreaking as it was, they'd anticipated this for months. They'd made plans to try to find their roots. Upon talking with the adults, the one who'd found her so many years ago told her she'd been born in Venterre, near the west-coast.

After a couple of tear-filled fair-wells, she promised to visit from time to time, and then left to find her bloodrelatives. A couple of days later, looking through her instructions and map, she stood in front of an old, small house.

On the porch, a young man who looked to be in his early twenties, was seated there. She called to him, asking if he could help her out. When he looked up, shock was written on both of their faces.

He had grey-ish short hair and sapphire blue eyes. His skin was just a little bit lighter than hers, scars on his nose and lips. Same round nose, same almond eyes, same strong eyebrows. The resemblance was groundbreaking, almost like looking into a mirror.

Though she never met him, she knew, deep down, that they were related. He was utterly convinced he was dreaming but she reassured him he wasn't. They didn't hug, for they barely knew each other, but they both cried. She was invited in his home, where their aunt had been preparing dinner. Eris' presence brought her to tears.

In the next few hours, while they dined, she learned that their names were Sethos and Dongmei, and that they were her older brother and aunt, respectively. She learned of her parents and their unfortunate fate, of the night Sethos lost her.

It was a relief to learn all this, and although she wanted to head back to Vesuvia, to her friends and find a home, she spent a couple of days with them. Dongmei mentioned that she had an abandoned magic shop in Vesuvia from her youth, close to the center of the city. Giving Eris the key, she told her to make her home there.

Once back home, it was time for Count Lucio's yearly Masquerade. There, she met Asra, whom she soon became close with. When she learned that he was an orphan, and had no place to stay, she offered him to live with her in the shop. It needed some repairs and a lot of cleaning but it was a start.

Years passed and they became closer. Unspoken feelings hanging in the air, but something stopped them from confessing. The Red Plague had arrived and it was taking anyone it could grasp. Eris and Asra, while discussing the situation one night, had an argument.

In the years he'd taught her magic, she'd also taught herself necromancy and wanted to help the plague doctors with the dead, possibly reverse their fate. But Asra didn't agree, "magic isn't supposed to work that way" he said.

So she ran away, found Julian and became his apprentice.

Soon died from the plague...

And the rest is history.

Personality: curious, caring, bold, kind, polite, calm, patient, self-less, motherly, gentle, open-minded, truthful, loyal, trustworthy, out-spoken, honest, stubborn, too forgiving and can never hold grudges for long

Interesting facts:

The small scars on the right side of her jaw, left collarbone and left shoulder are all from fainting while trying to get back her memories. Every time, she had the unfortunate luck of hitting something and scarring her skin.

She has a huge scar on her left thigh but she doesn't remember how she got it.

She also has an "apple of discord" tattoo on her right shoulder.

God forbid you ever make her wear gold, she cannot stand it. She only wears silver.

Although she's an ambivert, she leans towards introvert.

Hates lying and liars in general.

HAAAATES Lavender. Do not put her near those flowers.

Appearance: Sienna skin tone, wavy waist-length silver-white hair, bright ice blue eyes, pear-shaped fit body, B cup breasts.

Familiar: Kage, a sarcastic silver fox that can actually talk.

Voice claim: Margot Robbie

Full sprite:

Lmao sorry for the backstory being so long but.. My inner writer kinda jumped out. 😅

ANYWAYS I FINALLY DID IT, I MADE ERIS' BIO AND SPRITE!!

By the way, HUGE PROPS to my lovely beyotch @sahana-anand for giving me her bio template, it helped me SO MUCH. Thank you, love, couldn't have done it without you!

Hope you'll show some love to my girl Eris!

[writer-jamie]

Whiskey and Hidden Feelings - Joel Miller x Reader (Part 2)

Summary: Whiskey and hidden feelings don’t mix well. Joel was about to learn that the hard way.

Warnings: Spoilers from tlou2, mentions of sex.

Tag List: @peakymarvels @miss-goldenweek @samdrakeftw @fangirl-inthe-us @apocalypsekid @imahardcase

A/N: I’ve decided to make this a series, i’m not sure how long it’s going to go on but it’s going to be at least 3 chapters! I will write some smut in this series but i need a reason for y’all to come back right 🤔 I hope you enjoyed! I will be including more of Y/N’s backstory in chapter 3 and there will be more conflict and shit to come! See you soon!

Masterlist!

You had taken Joel up on that drink, and multiple after that. Ellie would sit at the bar and watch your little ‘dates’ as she liked to call them and would insit you tell her everything after them. She stopped walking you home when Joel started doing so. Dina told her to stop cockblocking you so she did. Dina is..is a special one. One drink led to another and you two were always leaving the bar pretty drunk but you didn’t mind, it was just the way you two worked. 

Joel would meet you outside work and walk you home, after all it wasn’t like he had anything else to do. If you were in the normal world, he would be the type of guy to meet you after work for coffee and a cake. He was fucking perfect.

The best part was Ellie. She enjoyed your company anyway but with you being with Joel, she had more of an excuse to hang out with you. She spent most her nights sleeping over at your house and basically lived with you. But she would always complain when you and Joel were all lovey dovey. But what hurt Ellie the most was that you and Joel weren’t being exclusive. You would sleep with Steve most nights, mainly for some comfort during the nights and because Joel, even when you invited him inside, would leave with a kiss. You thought he just didn’t want to have sex, but Ellie knew it was because he didn’t want to scare you off. Every time Steve would show up at your house, she would tell him to fuck off and leave you alone but nothing ever worked, and you were still sleeping with the man. Nothing ever worked.

—————

You crossed your legs and sat on your bed and ran your fingers along your arms. You touched the rough skin around the litter of scars from years on the run. You leaned over and grabbed your water, taking a sip before watching Ellie walk up the stairs. “Hola Señorita!” You smiled and grabbed the hot drink from her. “Can i see your tattoo again?” She crossed her legs and joined you on the bed. “Why? Needing inspiration?” You joked. She nodded and you looked at her seriously. “Hey not until you are eighteen. I don’t need Joel turning around and blaming me for your tattoo ‘inspiration’.” You laughed and moved your arm, allowing the girl to see it. It was a flower and a bird crossed together. She loved it. “What does it stand for? Like why did you get it?” She asked, moving back to get comfortable. “It was my dad’s favourite bird and flower. He was a gardener before this shit.” You explained.

“How old are you?” Ellie mumbled and looked down at the floor. “Well that’s rude. You shouldn’t ask a woman her age, Els.” You giggled before sipping on your drink. “I’m twenty seven.” You raised your eyebrows at the girl. Ellie snorted on the drink and laughed loudly. “My birthday is in October. I turned seven just before all this shit happened. I'm not looking forward to thirty. God I'll be so olddd.” You groaned and dramatically leaned backwards, putting your arms on your stomach. “Thirty isn’t old. Try being Joel. He’s like seventy!” Ellie laughed and laid down next to you, resting her cup on her stomach. “He’s not that old.” You poked her side and looked up at the ceiling. 

“You’re only saying that because you fancy him.” Ellie turned to face you with a shit eating smile on her face. “I fancy his cute butt.” You laughed and looked at the girl. Her face turned from a smile to a grossed out expression as she realised you were serious about it. “You two are so fucking gross.” She turned onto her stomach and grabbed her notebook from her backpack. The girl scribbled in her book and looked at you before sketching you surrounded by flowers. The same flowers as your tattoo.

The room fell silent and the soft sound of the wind outside hit the small house. The whistling of the wind was a sound that often helped you sleep on restless nights. You looked around at the empty walls of your house. You had nothing to decorate with so why bother? Anyway, who knows you might need to pack up and leave suddenly. At least that's what you have been telling yourself for the past eleven years. You wanted to feel secure and you finally felt safe at Jackson. Well as safe as you can feel. The safest you‘ve felt since your dad died.

“Are your parents still alive?” Ellie asked after a minute of silence. You sighed loudly and looked at Ellie. “No my dad died a few years ago and I never knew my mother.” You moved positions and sat up again, stretching your legs out. “How? Didn’t your dad tell you about her?” You shook your head and reached underneath your bed, finding your box of things. You grabbed the box and put it on your lap before rummaging through, looking for the photo album. “Ah ha!” You shouted when you found it. “This...” You opened the book on a picture of you and a middle aged man. “Is my dad. My rock.” You showed Ellie. The girl took the photo album into her hands and tilted her head, looking intently at the photo. “My mom was an egg donor. I never met her. I was made in a test-tube and put into my surrogate, my dad’s best friend, Susan.” Ellie looked at you with utter confusion, like everything you were saying was from some alternate reality. 

“My dad was gay. He liked men and because men can’t have babies alone, he and his partner at the time decided to get a surrogate to be able to have me. It was expensive as hell but my dad he..all he wanted was a child of his own. Thats why I look so much like him, because he is my biological dad. My mom is just a number on a board, I’ve never met her and couldn’t care to. After all, Susan carried me for nine months, not her.” She turned the page and saw a picture of your dad with a heavily pregnant lady. “Susan?” She asked you. You nodded before turning the page, showing her a photo of your dad holding you when you were newborn. “My dad named me after his favourite member of the band at the gay club he used to visit. My dad used to live the life.”

“On Outbreak Day, I was at the beach with my dad and one of his partners. As the Runners crowded the beach, I watched Paul get his throat ripped out. My dad rushed us out of there and back to his car as fast as possible. I was seven at the time.” You played with the skin around your nail. “But you’ve probably seen worst things, right Els?” You asked rhetorically and put your hand on her shoulder with a caring smile. “Anyway! Back to the happy memories.” You smiled and turned the page. 

—————

The warm lights of the bar hit your face as you opened the heavy door. You looked around and saw the usual patrons of the bar as well as people preparing for the night. You wandered over to the bar and decided to actually look at the photos on the wall. You were on about three of them. One of them was a photograph of you and Ellie months ago when you had a girls night. Another was of you, Steve, Dalia and Roger, all dancing during the ‘adults only’ event. That’s was when you and Steve were going steady. And by going steady you meant sleeping together every night to make someone else jealous. For you it was Joel, for him it was Kira. The last photo was of you, Maria, Tommy and Joel. You smiled and watched as Frank turned on the bar lights, beginning his long night. “Hey Frank.” You smiled.

You pulled down the skirt on your dress as you sat down on a bar stool, running a hand through your hair and fixing your jacket on your shoulders. You hummed and looked at the clock behind the bar and saw the time. He was late. You ordered your usual whiskey and sat waiting for Joel. You watched as all the couples came into the bar. It was very typical for a Friday night. All the couples who had kids would come in on a Friday because some people volunteered for a kids club and would look after the kids all night to allow the parents some peace. The older kids would just stay home and sneak out, including Ellie.

You saw Tommy and Maria walk past with a smile on their face as they said hello to the patrons of the bar. Tommy put a hand on your shoulder as he walked past, giving you some comfort. You looked at the door and watched as Joel walked in, greeted by Tommy who gave him a pat on the shoulder before the older man looked around for you. Once he spotted you, he walked up behind you and put his hands on your shoulders, placing a quick kiss on cheek. “Sorry i’m late. Ellie needed something.” 

“I though Joel Miller was never late?” You laughed and turned to face him, putting your hands on his chest. He was breathing hard. He must have ran here. He took your drink from behind you and drank it in one gulp, looking down at you innocently. “I’ll get you another.” Joel took your hands in his and stood you up, looking at you outfit. “Woah.” He smiled and you blushed, pushing him away gently before kissing his neck. “Let’s find a booth.” You told him before walking away, leaving him behind watching you.

After many more whiskeys and vodkas, you and Joel were getting more handsy and more tipsey. You were basically sat on his lap at this point, playing with his hair on the nape of his neck and leaning into his shoulders, getting as close as you could. You wanted him to make the first move. To kiss you first. Tell him he liked you first. But Joel is as stubborn as a mule so he would never admit anything first, or take initiative. So when a romantic song game on, you grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him up and to the floor. “Don’t go shy on me now Miller.” You mumbled and looked around, seeing how everyone was staring at him. After all, nobody had ever seen him on the floor before.

“You don't have to go now honey. Call and tell 'em you won't be in today. Baby there ain't nothin' at the office. So important it can't wait.”

You moved forward against Joel, wrapping your hands around his neck. The music slowed down as all the couples made their way to the floor. “Y’know you are reaaaal pretty up close.” You mumbled into Joel’s ear as he put his arms around your waist. “Y’know you are drunk?” He smirked at you as you swayed to the music. “You are a good detective, Texas.” You mumbled. Joel looked at you with wide eyes. “You good?” You asked, leaning your head against his chest. “Sorry. Someone i used to know called me that.” You took a deep breath. “Tess. Tommy told me about her.”

“I'm thankful for the weekend. But two days in heaven just ain't gonna do. This is gonna take forever darlin'. Girl I just got started lovin' you.”

Joel nodded and held your hands close to his chest, rocking you two back and forth. “You are a good dancer, Joel. Why did you hold that back from me for months?” You smiled and closed your eyes, enjoying the quietness of the situation, although it’s pretty loud in the bar tonight. Joel looked down at you and smiled, pressing his warm cheek against your forehead.

“What's the point in fightin' what we're feelin'. We both know we'll never win. Ain't this what we're missin'. Let's just stop all this resistin' and give in.”

You pulled away and put your hand back around his neck, playing with the long pieces of hair. You adored his hair. “Hey cowboy..” You mumbled as your eyes adjusted to the warm light. “Hey.” You looked around to see all the other couples sharing a kiss. “You wanna..put those lips somewhere? Or are you just going to continue talking trash?” You pressed one of your finger to his lips. Joel clicked his tongue and looked into your eyes. “Depends. You gonna stop sleeping with Steve?” You frowned and looked at him. “Depends. You going to give me a reason to stop?”

“Let me wrap my arms around you. You know you don't want to leave this room. Come back and let me hold you darlin'. Girl I just got started lovin' you.”

Joel leaned forward and pressed his warm lips to yours. It wasn’t your first kiss with the man and you prayed it wouldn’t be your last. He was soft and gentle when he needed to be and rough and dominant when he needed. You pulled away once, but you immediately went back for more and the again. You tried to make sure you weren’t making out too much in the middle of the bar but with Joel, control wasn’t a thing. You smiled against his lips when his prickly beard tickled your face and neck as he kissed you gently. Then you said the one thing he had been waiting for since the day he laid eyes on you.

“Take. Me. Home.”

You breathed heavily when he pulled away. Joel didn’t need to be told twice. The two of you stumbled away from the floor and grabbed your coats before sneaking out the back door like a couple of teenagers. The walk back to your house was a short one, and one which you two walked many times. But this time, it was a walk back with a purpose. You stumbled to open the door as Joel pressed small and needy kisses to your exposed neck. You were giggling and smiling as you finally opened the door and rushed upstairs. Joel laid you down on the bed and showered you with kisses, running his hands up your thigh and into your dress.

“Slow down Cowboy, we got all night.” You moaned and kissed him deeply.

—————

The sun shone down on the small lake. You hopped off your horse and grabbed her reins before walking up to Ellie. “So you can swim now right?” You asked, putting your bag down next to your horse, Reign. You watched as Ellie took her shoes and jumper off and nodded. “Yeah! Me and Joel have been practising more. But I'm glad you are going to help me!” Ellie smiled as she jumped into the lake. “HOLY FUCK IT’S FREEZING!” She yelled as she popped out of the water, making you laugh loudly. You quickly changed out of your top into your vest before jumping into the water after her. You popped out of the water and brushed your hair out of your face. “Ellie! It’s so fucking cold!” You yelled and grabbed her shoulders. You kicked your feet around underneath the water, trying to warm up and stay afloat. 

“Ok! Ok!” You took a deep breath. “Let’s work on diving and keeping those peepers open!” You smiled and dove underneath the water, grabbing Ellie’s feet. The girl laughed and held her breath as she went underneath and stood next to you.  

“Ellie? Y/N?” Joel yelled as he walked around the corner, seeing the two horses tied up nearby. “Joel! We are in here!” Ellie yelled out and splashed in the water, ensuring Joel knows where they are. He turned the corner and saw the two girls in the lake, with soaking wet hair. “What are you two doin’?” He asked.

“Swimming!” Ellie laughed loudly and swam to the edge of the lake where you were sat, your legs dangling in the cool water. You were drying off for the ride back but ensuring you kept an eye on the girl. After all, you were the adult in this situation. Joel walked up behind you and kneeled down, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. Ellie groaned and covered her eyes. “Gross.” She swam in a circle. “Hi.” He smiled and put his hands on your shoulders. Before you could say anything, Joel had pushed you into the water. You popped up and looked at him. “Hey Asshole!” You swore and flipped him the bird. “I’m sorry. I had to.” You shook your head and grabbed Ellie’s hands, swimming around with her.

“Joel! Get in. The water isn’t freezing at all.” Ellie laughed before splashing near the man. “No way kiddo. I’ll put my feet in but that’s it. We can have a lesson next week.” Joel stuck to his promise and took off his shoes and socks, rolling up his jeans before he sat down, putting his feet in the water. You watched as he splashed Ellie from the sidelines, like a dad watching his kid play football. A smile spread on your lips as you swam over to him, sliding between his legs and putting his hands around your back. You pulled him down into a kiss and with one big pull, Joel was in the water with you. He popped up to the surface and stared at you. “Oh yeah you are so dead!” He yelled, swimming after you and Ellie, involving her in the conflict.

“I WASN’T EVEN INVOLVED!” Ellie screamed as Joel caught up to her, splashing her and tickling her sides. You stood behind Ellie and watched as the two came up with a plan. “Get her!” Ellie shouted as they came running, well swimming, towards you, splashing you and soaking your top half. “St-Stop!” You laughed, putting your arms around Joel’s neck, holding onto him for safety. “He’s the one you need to be saved from!” Ellie laughed and splashed you both, laying on her back.

“Hi.” He looked at the side of your face. “Hi.” You turned to face him and looked into his eyes. “I’m still going to kill you.” Joel threatened. “Yeah yeah. Who else would be your drinking buddy?” You smiled, hugging him tightly.

[kieraswriting]

Coffin Chapter Three

Masterpost

“It appears that we have two people to talk to,” Logan said, gathering up the books and sorting them by what they needed to keep and what they were going to put back.

“Yes,” Patton said, holding tightly to the cards with the addresses on them. “But first we need to go home. We need sleep, and they’re almost certainly asleep.

So they did, but they went out first thing in the morning, even before having breakfast.

Logan knocked on the door.

It was opened by a vampire. He was short, barely coming up to Logan’s shoulder, and dressed in yellow pajamas. He had a scar over half his face, crossing one eye that was clearly blind. His good eye went wide the minute he saw them.

“Thomas! It’s hunters.”

He turned back and almost shut the door.

“How’d he know we’re hunters?” Patton whispered.

Logan shrugged.

The door was opened again by a taller man, smiling politely, if a little coldly. “Good morning. How may I help you?”

“We’ve read your book,” Patton started.

“Wait, you did?” The man said, frowning in confusion. “I thought it got denied.”

“It did.” Logan confirmed. “But I have a connection in the archive who was willing to help me find something specific.”

“Oh? Oh. Why don’t you come inside?”

There was a low hiss from the vampire as they walked inside.

Thomas guided them to the living room, and sat down across from them.

“What is it you wanted to talk about?”

“Well, we’re having a bit of a problem,” Patton said. “We’re trying to take the last test, but, it just feels so wrong.”

“We’ve come to inquire, specifically on how you made living arrangements with your vampire.” Logan added.

“I definitely don’t have a name,” the vampire said sarcastically.

“Dee.” Thomas patted the couch next to himself. “Wanna come sit? They’re trying to understand.”

“Of course I want to sit with some hunters who have barged their way into our house.” Dee hissed, turning to leave the room. A few steps away, he turned back. “I’m not leaving you with them.” He sat down next to Thomas, still very grumpy.

“Why don’t you explain your situation, and then I’ll try to give you some advice.” Thomas suggested, not very sneakily wrapping an arm around Dee.

“Well, the test started nine days ago, and we received a vampire, but he was not violent as expected. It has made many of the rules and procedures seem unduly cruel.” Logan said.

“He was all chained up in the coffin with silver!” Patton said. “And it looked like he’d been there an awfully long time.”

To their surprise, Dee nodded. “A coffin with silver cuffs is standard practice for new captures.”

“He was also starved,” Logan added.

“And you want to know how to live with him now?” Thomas asked.

Patton nodded.

“Since he was sent to you, he’s in the system. If you let him go, they’ll just think he escaped. They’ll kill him, or worse.” Thomas said.

“That was my assumption, yes.” Logan said.

“But that doesn’t mean that you don’t treat him like a person,” Thomas added. “Let him have his own room, or share with one of you if you’re worried. Let him go around the house. Take him places with you. Your best bet is to treat him as if he were another hunter.”

“What about actual vampire hunting?” Patton asked.

“A vampire is just as willing to bring an evil vampire to justice as a human would be to bring an evil human to justice. So long as you don’t hunt innocents, and you actually deal out justice, I don’t think that there will be a problem. But listen to him, he’ll have a different opinion than you will, and it’s just as valid as yours is.”

Both Patton and Logan nodded.

“What would you suggest if he tries to leave?” Logan asked.

“Probably, if he doesn’t already know, you should tell him more about the hunters. If you treat him kindly, he shouldn’t want to leave.”

“Can I ask, what happened to your uh,” Patton’s hand hovered over the side of his own face. “I thought that vampires couldn’t scar.”

Dee glared at him, but he still answered. “If a vampire is held without eating, and hurt then, when they can’t heal for an extended period of time, they often scar. The vampire with you, depending on how long he was kept in the coffin, will most likely have scars.”

Dee pulled up one sleeve, to show discolored skin on his own wrist.

Logan stood up. “We will not impose on you any further. Thank you for your time.” He held out a card. “I would like to be in contact, but I will leave the decision up to you.”

“Oh! Uh, thank you.” Thomas said, slightly caught off guard by Logan’s abruptness. He took the card. “I’ll text you later?”

“That would be acceptable.”

“Thank you, Thomas. And thank you, Dee.” Patton said, smiling as cheerfully as he could after hearing such sad things.

“Yes, you’re welcome.” Thomas said.

Dee grumbled something that may or may not have been words.

They left the house.

“Do you have business cards for yourself?” Patton asked.

“No. I made that one specifically for this meeting.”

•^*^••

If Logan and Patton had come home, they did it while Roman was asleep, and also left while he was asleep. The only thing that informed him was another note on the kitchen table.

We are going out as another part of the research. We expect to return sometime this afternoon.

Logan.

I didn’t make any breakfast, but there’s leftovers in the fridge if you want them.

Patton :)

Roman was still feeling disgruntled from the previous night, and eating breakfast didn’t help at all. Finally he stomped downstairs, feeling even more irritated as he saw the vampire cringe back away from him.

“I’m giving you a chance.” He stated.

“What for?” The vampire asked.

“To explain yourself.”

“With the… cards? It’s boring down here.”

“No. Not with the cards! With the whole,” Roman flung out his hands, trying to figure out what he was trying to say. “Thinking you’re right thing.”

“Doesn’t everyone think that they’re right?”

“No! Just— What makes you think your sire was actually trying to help you?”

“Because she was.”

“You don’t know that! Whatever she said-“

“I’m not spilling my tragic backstory for you.”

Roman scowled. “I just don’t understand where you come off saying that vampires are different.”

“From what? From each other? No one’s exactly the same. Vampires are just as capable of having personality as humans are.”

“No they aren’t! I can’t believe that.”

“Then why are you talking to me?”

Roman spluttered. The truth was he didn’t know. “I’ve seen vampires like you before, you know. They act all nice, like they’d never do anything to hurt you. But it’s all a lie. They still kill, and hurt.”

The vampire didn’t answer.

“He killed my mom. I’m not falling for it again. I’m not letting you trick me!”

“You probably won’t believe me, but I’m sorry that happened.”

“Just— ugh!” Roman stormed back upstairs.

•^*^••

This house was very much off the records. Logan’s friend had told them about it, but had warned them not to let any other hunters know about it.

Patton knocked on the door. He had to knock twice before it was opened. It was a very kind looking man, wearing a sweater and seeming to radiate calm and fun at the same time. His name was supposed to be Emile.

“Hello? Do you how do?”

Patton grinned. “We’d like to talk with you.”

“Oh? What about?”

“We were referred to you by Elliot. We have a problem and it was suggested that you could provide advice.” Logan said.

“Oh, well come in. Are you a couple?”

Patton’s face flushed bright red.

But Logan easily changed the subject. “No, we came to ask you about a problem relating to vampires.”

The man stiffened slightly. “I see. What seems to be your problem?”

Logan explained about their positions, and about Virgil, and Patton interjected several times. They also told him about their visit to Thomas, and what he had said. He listened, interjecting with jokes occasionally, which Patton thought were hilarious, but Logan didn’t care for.

“Well, I could certainly give you a longer answer if that’s what you want, but the short answer would be, talk to Virgil. I’m sure that he has his own opinions and you should take those into consideration. I don’t mean to say that he’s the only one who ought to decide, but he’s the one that has been forced into this position, and you’re the ones choosing to stay.”

Logan nodded slowly. “I take it, then, that you believe as Thomas does, that vampires ought to have the same rights as humans?”

Emile straightened. “Yes. I very much do.”

There was a soft click, which Patton ignored, his mind still swirling. A large part of him believed every word that Thomas and Emile had said, but there was still a part that couldn’t let go of what he’d been taught all his life. Even though he knew it had to be wrong.

Suddenly there was a bruising grip on his shoulders and he was lifted out of his seat.

“Remy!” Emile cried out.

Logan startled and pulled his gun on the person, almost certainly a vampire, that was holding Patton.

“They’re hunters, Em!” Came a voice just by Patton’s ear, where the vampire must be poised to bite.

“Let him down.”

“Hunters!” The vampire said, shaking Patton to punctuate his point.

“They came because they don’t like how they’ve been taught to treat vampires.”

Logan met Patton’s eyes, and Patton shook his head slightly. Shooting this vampire now wouldn’t be a good idea.

“Can you let me down?” Patton asked, trying to keep his voice steady and a little cheerful.

“Not until both of you swear you haven’t told any other hunters about us, and that you won’t.”

“We haven’t.” Logan said, still holding his gun ready.

“We haven’t. And we won’t.” Patton assured the vampire. That was odd. It was decidedly not how this type of situation usually went.

“Remy, trust me. Let him down.” Emile said calmly.

Patton was abruptly dropped back onto the couch.

“Why are hunters in our house?” Remy asked, stalking towards Emile.

Emile didn’t flinch or back away. “They aren’t quite hunters,”

Remy scoffed, cutting off his sentence. “They reek of it.”

Emile slowly set a hand on Remy’s arm. “There’s a final test for hunters. They have to keep a vampire for a year. Once these two got their vampire, they realized how messed up it all is. They came here to try and learn better.”

Remy turned, and even though they couldn’t see his eyes past the sunglasses, he was clearly glaring at them. “You’ve better have learned enough then. You’re leaving. Now.”

“That may be best,” Emile agreed.

“We will be on our way then.” Logan said. He put his gun away and took out another card. “I would like to be in contact with you, but I leave the decision to you.”

“Thank you for talking with us,” Patton added.

Emile took the card. He nodded. Remy opened the door, ushering them out.

Once they were in the car again, Logan turned to Patton. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. A little sore, but I’ll be fine.”

•^*^••

“Roman!” Patton said as soon as he entered the door.

Roman looked up, his bad mood temporarily banished. “Patton! Logan! You’re home!”

“We have a lot to talk about,” Patton said.

“Patton, he may need to come to this kind of decision on his own.” Logan said cautiously.

“What is it?”

Roman waited until Patton was done explaining before he said anything.

“No.”

“But-“

“No.”

“Roman-“

“I won’t believe it. Vampires are always violent. They may be clever, but not a one of them is sane. And I will never let one loose in this house.”

Patton frowned.

“And honestly, I can’t believe you would consider it!” Roman continued. “With your family-“

“Don’t. Don’t bring my family into this.”

“He’s manipulated you. Both of you! You’ve fallen for his victim act. I can’t— I can’t believe it!”

“I have considered that you would think this way,” Logan said, more hesitantly than usual. “What would it take to convince you?”

“Nothing. There isn’t anything that can convince me.” Roman said.

“In that case, I propose a compromise.” Logan said. “Virgil has passed two compliancy tests. I am convinced that he will follow any rules we set. Until he does something to suggest otherwise, I propose that we let him have free reign of the basement. If he does, there are three of us. We can still easily overpower him. But, if he continues to prove himself as he has been, we will give him progressively more freedoms.”

“I don’t like it.” Roman said. “One chance is all it takes for one of us to have our throats torn out.”

“All three of us are capable hunters. We can easily be armed at all times.”

Roman crossed his arms. “I don’t like it. I don’t like how you’re thinking, I don’t like being ganged up on, and I really don’t like that we’re considering GIVING A VAMPIRE FREE REIGN IN OUR HOUSE!”

Roman clenched his jaw, slightly ashamed that he just yelled at his friends, but more than angry enough not to care.

•^*^••

Virgil wondered if the humans were aware that he could hear them.