#Nothing in the world more comforting than silly little podcasts

[manyfandomsonelog]

I love my silly little podcasts

[binnie-huaisang]

Silly Fight

Genre: angst, fluff(?

Pairing: Chan × reader

Words: 3.4 k

TW: Mental health issues, depression.

Also, this came out a little darker that I intended and by the end I didn’t have the heart to give it the final I was actually going to write, BUT if you wanna read the original ending I was planning, you can look for the “alternative” version in my blog where I added the original ending because apparently I like to make myself cry (:

Note: I'm sorry if there are some spelling or grammar mistakes, or if some expressions just don't make sense. English isn't my first language, but I promise I'm trying my best.

Chan and you started dating a few years ago, of course nobody knew that, except for your friends and his family.

At the beginning of the relationship you were really nervous all the time, always scared to make a bad movement or saying something that could maybe make him uncomfortable. That, and the fact that you didn’t even live in the same country, had you worried every moment of every day. You had always been an overthinker, and this certainly did no better to your condition.

However, things were going great, and it wasn’t too long for the little voices in your head to notice that. It was almost as if Chan and you were meant for eachother. It wasn’t like anything you had experienced before. Your relationship was one of those that you can only find in fairytales, and you knew that it was because both of you were so in love that every thing that could seem as a problem for other people, meant nothing to you.

Even with the distance, you would always be there for eachother. Every time he was getting frustrated over work or you were having a bad time because of college, you  would always be there to give support to the other.

Even if your personalities were very different, you barely fought, and it wasn’t because you weren’t able to see the other’s defects or mistakes, but because you knew that they were part of the person you loved and, in a certain way, you also had fallen for those things.

Yes, both of you were completely different worlds, but somehow, you made it work. Even after taking that big step that was making your relationship official, everything kept being the exact same way. Now, it wasn’t only your loved ones who would always tell you that you were basically soulmates, but also his fans and comrades.

Everything was just perfect, or at least it was until that afternoon…

You were visiting Chan after a few months of not seeing each other and, as usual, he took you to that coffee shop that was near his company building.

He was trying his best to act like everything was okay and that nothing was bothering him, but you knew him more than anyone in the world, and you could tell that something was off.

“Babe, is something bothering you?” you asked while caressing his hand over the table.

He saw the concern behind your eyes and that only made the guilt inside of him grow. He didn’t wanna do it, he knew it would end really bad for both of you, but he knew that if he didn’t tell you, someone else would, and that would be even worse.

“Everything’s alright angel” he lied. “Let’s eat, the food will get cold”, and there it was, that smile, the one that he uses every time something is bothering him but he doesn’t wanna tell you.

“Chan”, you called, making him look up to you. He could hardly look at you in the eye without getting nervous. He knew a fight was coming, and he was doing everything he could to hold it over. He was really trying, but he felt so guilty for being the reason for your concern.

Suddenly, the image of you crying in his bed popped into his mind. It was the first time he ever saw you cry, and no one could put in words how guilty and broken he felt for knowing that he was the reason behind it. Apparently you saw one of those mean comments people make on social media about him and you couldn’t resist it. 

You were the kind of person that never cared about what others said about you, but as soon as someone said something about your loved ones, it was on.

That was one of the hardest days for both of you. You were trying to give comfort words to each other, but it was useless. You could still not understand why would people be so mean towards the best person you’ve ever met, the one who was always there for anyone that needed some help. On the other hand, he would never forgive himself for making you cry. He knew it was because of him, and he was feeling so mad for making the one he loved suffer in that way. You were his whole world, his motivation on the hard days and his celebration partner on the best ones. 

You were everything he could’ve dreamed of, in his eyes you were just perfect, and the fact that he hurt you in some way was something that would never happen again. Or at least that was what he thought.

“Chan? Chan!” Your voice brought him back to reality. “Listen, I don’t know what’s happening, but you know you can tell me everything”.

“Well… Actually, there is something I need to tell you…” He finally said and you nodded. “I was talking with some people from the company the other day and… They asked me to talk to you about some things related to your podcast”.

Chan looked at you, examining every inch of your face, looking for any movement or expression that could let him know what you were thinking, but it was useless. Your expression was completely neutral.

However, in your head things were very different. You weren’t stupid, of course you knew what he was about to say. 

You and your best friend, Santiago, had a podcast where you would talk about random stuff, it could be mental health issues, cartoons, movies, or even political complains, it was basically two friends just talking to each other. This podcast had existed even before you knew Chan and it didn’t seem like there was a problem about it until some people of Chan’s company asked him to tell you that you should stop joking about your mental health online because it gave a “bad image”.

That happened just a couple months ago and you were still mad. Anyone who knew you knew that was your coping mechanism and they had the audacity to ask you to stop doing it. Of course you could just refuse to do it, but you didn’t want any problems, besides, after talking with Santiago, you both agreed that there were some comments that could actually be a trigger to some of your audience, so you ended up agreeing.

“What is it?” Your face could be inexpressive, but your voice revealed all the annoyance you were feeling.Of course, Chan noticed that and it only made him more nervous. He really didn't want to do it, he knew it was unfair, but he had to tell you.

“Well… It’s actually a very stupid thing, you will probably laugh when you hear it because it´s really stupid-”

“Just tell me” you said, cutting off  the babbling of the slightly scared boy that was sitting across from you.

“They say you should stop swearing so much”.

Chan was right, you did laugh, but it wasn’t for the reason he expected. You were so done with them. As much as you always hated the control they had over Chan, you could kind of understand it since he worked for them, but you didn’t, and the fact that they were trying to have control over you and your friend was unacceptable.

“You know what? I’m going to talk with them, I’m fucking done”. You said getting up from your seat. Even when you were keeping your voice in a low tone, some people turned because of the sudden move.

“Babe!” Chan took your wrist in his hand before you could start walking away. He didn’t say anything, but by the look in his eyes, you knew he wanted you to stay there and talk about it, and so you did.

“It’s just that… It’s so stupid!” You said a little more relaxed. 

“I know baby” Chan comforted you by caressing your left cheek.

“I mean, I would consider changing something if it made you uncomfortable, but I shouldn’t have to change because some people that don’t even know me think that I ‘swear’ a lot”.

“Well…” The panic showed on his face as soon as he realized what he had done.“

‘Well’?” You raised a brow. “So you think they’re right’“

“No! Of course not! I’m just saying that maybe you do swear in moments where it’s not completely necessary”. Despite his previous intent of calm you down, he was having some stressful days and he was beginning to feel tired.

“But that’s the way I talk!”

“Well, maybe the way you talk does give a bad image!”

“Oh, because I clearly care so much for my image! Why do you care anyways? You’re not even in the podcast!”

Chan let out a sarcastic laugh. “What did you say before? That you would consider changing something if it made me uncomfortable? Go ahead then, change it! Oh, wait. You won’t, because you are so used to people agreeing with you that whenever someone disagrees you just ignore it!”

You stared at him with a stunned look. Something inside you knew that none of you were thinking straight and that maybe you should stop, but you were so mad at him for agreeing with the people that were trying to control you, that you ignored that little voice.

“First of all, why do you all complain about it so much? Whenever I say a bad word or ‘swear’ or however you wanna call it, I do it in my first language, you don’t even understand what I’m saying so shut the fuck up! And second, it doesn’t even make sense that you are telling me that you are bothered because of my language! I never swear around you because I know that your holy ears bleed everytime someone says ‘fuck’. Why don’t you just tell me that you are so scared of them that you need to be a total jerk to me in order to make them happy?”

“Oh, so now I’m being a jerk? You know what? Maybe I am scared of them, but you are being selfish! You are not even thinking about how this can affect me!”

“Pleeease!” You said with a sarcastic laugh. “You’re no one to talk about it! You were the one who pushed me into revealing our relationship because ‘you didn’t want to hide anything from your fans’“ You mocked. “I wasn’t prepared and you still made me appear in front of a camera! You didn’t care what it would do to me, so don’t talk to me about being selfish!”

You could feel the tears forming in the corner of your eyes. You always tried to ignore the bad comments since they were minimum, but sometimes you couldn’t help being affected by them, especially when you were already having bad times.

“You know I’m sorry for that”. Chan said recovering from the sudden anger. He knew that he made a mistake by throwing you to the world like that and there wasn’t a day he didn’t regret it. 

“Well, that doesn’t make the death threats disappear”. As much as you tried to hold them, you felt the tears finally scape.

Chan was speechless, he wanted to say something, to hug you and say sorry for everything, but he couldn’t move. He was just there, sitting while he watched you fall apart. And the worst part was yet to come…

“I- I don’t care about this. I don’t care about those stupid coments and I wouldn’t care about  what your stupid bosses tell you if it wasn’t beacuse it’s always me who has to do or change something” Your voice was barely a whisper, but Chan could hear every single word. “My grades have been getting down, you know?” A sad smile painted your face. “I’ve been feeling bad for months and I cannot pay attention to my lessons. To be honest, I don’t even know if I like my career anymore, but I can’t quit, I don’t want to. I keep telling to myself ‘maybe it’s not the career, it’s just my depression, I’ll be fine in a few days’, but I’m not fine and I’ve been wanting to look for help but therapy is fucking expensive”.

Chan was looking at you completely devastated. He never knew you were feeling bad. Of course he knew about your depression, but you once told him that you’ve been feeling alright for more than a year now. How stupid he was for not noticing. He wanted to ask you why you didn’t say anything, why would you hide such important things, but, once again, he didn’t.

“The money I earn… I use everything to come here to see you because you are not allowed to visit me” You said in a more bitter tone than you intended. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not blaming you, I know this is your job but… It can be a little exhausting to be the one who always has to adapt, to be the strong one. I never say anything because I love you so much and I know I should support you because the path you chose is already hard enough but… I’m just… tired. I’m tired of everything”.

You didn’t even have time to react when your boyfriend got up from his seat and walked around the table to kneel in front of you and wrap his arms tightly around your waist. The initial shock fading as you heard his muffled crying on your chest. You were trying to comfort him by caressing his hair, but it was useless. After a few minutes, when both of you felt that the sobs of the other were fading, Chan finally looked up at you, sending a wave of guilt through your body as you saw his still teary eyes. 

Before you could say anything, he gave you a soft and long kiss on the forehead. The kiss was so full of love and emotions that it made you tear once again.

“I’m so sorry” He said with a raspy voice. “I’m such an asshole for not noticing. You’re always there for me and I just-”

“Shhh” You interrupted by caressing his cheek. “None of this is your fault. I shouldn’t have brought up the subject, this wasn’t the time to do it”.

“Hey, don’t say that!” Chan said as he lifted your chin to meet his eyes. “You’re right, I guess I’m taking more than what I’m giving, but this stops now. I will talk with my manager to see if he can fix something, and as for your therapy… I will pay for it”.

“Of course not!” You said with wide eyes. “I’m the one who has to handle this, I’ll find the way”.

“Angel, you don’t have to go through this by yourself, you have me now and I will not leave you alone… Not again”.

And with that said, he held you in his arms once again pulling you as closer as he could as if he feared you’d disappear at any moment. After a few seconds, you heard your boyfriend’s muffled voice again.

“Don’t say that again”.

“What?”

“That you are tired of everything, don’t say that. If you say that you’re tired of me, that you’re tired of college… I can take it, but please don’t say you’re tired of everything”. His words made you suddenly go pale. You didn't expect him to understand the meaning of your words, but he did. Even if you never told him the full story because you were so scared of him dismissing the matter, he knew you were struggling with something ever since you were a child. In fact, he knew more than you tought. 

As far as you knew, he was always very busy to listen to your podcast, but that was only partially true, since he did use to listen to some of the chapters. One of them was the one where you and Santiago were talking about the importance of mental health and how people should always ask for help if they feel like there’s something that’s not working as it should. In that chapter you talked a little bit about your experience with depression and you mentioned… Something. Something that you almost did in middle school. Of course, Santiago didn’t seem surprised, since he already knew about it and he only reassured you that you weren’t alone anymore, but for Chan, knowing about that situation really shocked him. Of course he never told you anything since he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but ever since he found out about this… Situation, he would find himself thinking about it in the most unexpected moments of the day. 

After thinking about what would be the best answer to the sudden request, you decided that a simple nod would be the only thing that wouldn’t make you burst into tears again, so that’s what you did.

“I still don’t want you to pay for my therapy tho” You said with a tired smile after your boyfriend had broken the hug just to start playing with your hands.

“We’ll talk about it later, angel” He said, smiling back at you, but this time it wasn’t a sarcastic or a nervous smile, it was a real one. “Now, why don’t we go back to the apartment? I will cook something delicious for you”.

“But we already have food here!” You said, letting out a little giggle at the ridiculous proposal.

You could see how the red color of his cheeks and ears became more intense before he leaned toward one of yours. “To be honest… I don’t know if I feel comfortable eating in a room full of people that saw me crying just a few instants ago”.

A sincere laugh escaped your lungs. You hadn’t thought about it until he pointed it out and he was right, it was kind of embarrassing. After a few more giggles from both of you because of the whole situation, you found yourselves walking towards the entrance while holding hands. It was weird, you knew that for most people, having that kind of discussion could've ended in so much pain, and even a breakup, but you weren’t like most people. Chan meant the world to you and you were the love of his life, which meant that he would not back down and he would not let anyone hurt you, even if that someone was you.

You were already walking down the street when you suddenly remembered something.

“Baby?” He looked at you with a sweet simile. “You don’t know how to cook”.

“Well, maybe by ‘cooking something for you’ I meant supervising the people who will actually cook for you”.

“Channie!” You whined, a little worried that his friends will get tired and refuse to keep cooking for you one of these days.

“It’s alright! Felix loves cooking for you! And Lino loves having you around, why would he refuse?” And there they were, the beautiful dimples you’ve been missing for so long. 

You stared at his face for a few moments and before he could ask why had you stopped walking, you planted a quick kiss on his right dimple, followed by a sweet peck on his lips.

You laughed at the flustered boy standing in front of you, your smile only getting wider as you felt him holding you by your waist and pulling you closer so he could hide his already red face in the curve of your neck.

“I love you _____“ He murmured, sending shivers down your spine and making you feel butterflies in your chest.

“And I love you, my angel“

“Hey! That’s my nickname for you“ He pouted.

“I know baby, but you truly are an angel to me“ “Stopthisatonceifyoudon’twantmetokissyoualloveryourbeautifulfaceohmygodIloveyoumuch“ You giggled again, barely being able to listen to his muffled words since his face had already found its way back to your neck.

“Channie… I’m sorry for starting that silly fight…”

“Hey, stop it! You had all the right to be mad! And it wasn’t a ‘silly fight‘. Actually, I’m kind of grateful that it happened, since it made me know how you were feeling”.

You were about to complain, but before you could, he planted a quick kiss on your hand and dragged you towards his body, making you get back to the pathway. “Let’s go angel! The faster we get there, the faster I will be able to start begging Minho to cook something for us”.

Hi! I’m sorry if this is too bad, this is my first time writing a short fic and it’s also the first time I write something this long only in english. If there are any grammar mistakes that you can find, feel free to send me a DM and correct me (:

©  binnie-huaisang 2021 All rights reserved. Translating or reposting is not allowed. 

[asherlockstudy]

Rhett and Link’s problems with the Enneagram

I have now watched both Enneagram EBs and the second one actually set my gears to work (So Anon here it comes! I promise it was spontaneous).

After listening to Link and mostly Rhett talk about the Enneagram again and again, I realised I have a problem but I can not place its exact root. There is either something fundamentally wrong with the Enneagram itself or maybe it’s Rhett and consequently Link who talk about it in a way that made me feel a little uncomfortable.

My problem and cause of concern was that everything that was said during the two podcasts had a clear negative tone to it. I will have to bring in myself to it to give you an example so bear with me for a paragraph. I did the test and I am a 5 (Investigator - Observer, something like that) which suits me rather well, especially since it agrees perfectly with my Myers-Briggs INTP type. The results said I was a 5w6 (essentially an emotionless analytical robot) which is definitely wrong as I am clearly a 5w4 (a sad mess who analyses the world and searches pointlessly for the true meanings in life and wants to come up with the ultimate all-encompassing philosophy). I mean, OK, they are not described exactly like that but trust me, that’s the point. But despite all the flaws associated with it, especially in the fields of socialising and tremendous procrastination due to an insane fear of failure, I am actually very much in touch with it. I revel in analysing, in trying to see the bigger picture, to make up my own theory about life and the world. It gives me fuel to go on, it fills me with excitement, it gives me a purpose.

Now, what I kept hearing from Rhett and Link are the things they would hope to run away from. I can’t seem to remember a single positive thing they said about their personalities. All traits they mentioned ( which were all pretty one-dimensional for both I dare say) were presented in the context of torturing them and having to confront them. With these insights in their personalities and the spiritual deconstructions earlier, their old (surprising back then) statement that they are “fundamentally sad people” makes more and more sense. Some of their traits, like Link’s care for perfection to the smallest detail and his moral concerns could have been neutral or positive but, no, they are almost all given as clear negatives or at least as things that have an emotional toll on them.

This gives me the impression that Link and especially Rhett have found comfort in studying the Enneagram and try to find an explanation for what they are like, to feel part of a group, represented in their misery. In short, they focus on the analysis of the flaws of their personalities as a part of who they are and avoid dealing with the root that caused said flaws. Link is more self aware while Rhett still struggles to reach the root of it, which is his childhood. Not that he doesn’t know it but he can’t just deal with the people and the situations that impacted him enough to make him a three. For instance, Rhett seems to believe that he is a natural three that his parents made manifest even more strongly. It could be the case or the threeness we observe in him is the direct product of his parents’ constant judgement. By keeping chanting he needs to “be” instead of “do”, I am not sure Rhett will achieve much. Honestly, the one impactful step he needs to take is to stop caring about what his father thinks and I am sorry to say he is still not near achieving this. Especially when I take into account how scared he was during his videocall with his dad in GMM and how relieved he looked after the call was over without drama. In short, my problem with their take in the Enneagram is that it seems that Three is Rhett’s pack of unresolved issues rather than his complete personality type.

Furthermore, Rhett speaks knowingly about all numbers / personality types which proves he consumes passionately all Enneagram information that is available. For a man of his level of active lifestyle, hectic schedule and impatience, this shows that he indeed seeks comfort in finding a detailed description and an explanation for his personality, for the way he feels and acts. What does this mean? Well, that he does not like the way he feels about himself a lot. Not only that, but he is actually in a search of self. At this point, he is no longer cryptic about it but it is more serious than he lets on. He tries to make sense of himself and he tries desperately to find something in himself to love. I hope there are people in his life who let him know that he is worthy of their love, friendship and appreciation even though he is so deep inside his head that even the affectionate feedback can only help so much. Rhett will start finding some peace only if he takes the one step I mentioned above.

And then it seems that Link’s personality type is also exclusively a byproduct of his childhood and is aggravated by his relationship with Rhett. Link’s perfectionism doesn’t cause him enthusiasm - he just dreads the disturbance of his supposedly perfectly stable world. In all honesty, Link doesn’t strike me as an ambitious person. Link would just love to have his dear routine and a loyal person to share it with. Link needs stability and companionship. He is fine with just one person as long as this person contributes to the stability of their bond. Who that one person is in Link’s life is another story…

Link doesn’t care that much about the creative process and, frankly, he doesn’t care all that much about the comedy. Link cares to keep the environment Rhett and he work stable and safe. For Link, judgement from the audience is not as alarming as Rhett’s frustration because of it. Link cares to ensure that Rhett’s idea will be successful enough to keep working and to keep working together. So Link’s entire self-identification as a one seems to stem from his fear of abandonment and worthlessness only. Link fears he has not much to contribute to Mythical and he tries to counteract that by becoming the ultimate source of management and control. Because if he didn’t even manage the company, then what would Rhett need him for? Hence, Link’s obsession for control is a consequence of his fear, he doesn’t necessarily love to be in control for the sake of it. This is proven by his plane example, which shows that he finally relaxes when he does NOT need to be in control.

Link has been working hard most of his life to ensure his position next to Rhett. This brings even more insight in his resentment for Rhett that explodes from time to time. Link resents Rhett because he tries so hard to be always by his side but due to Rhett’s opportunitism, he can’t tell whether Rhett wants his companionship or he simply needs it for their brand. Even worse, Link dreads that the reason Rhett is his friend is because Link feeds his ego with his loyalty and admiration, because he takes Link for granted and not because he loves Link for who he is.

“Do you care for me or do you revel in the fact that I care for you?”

Now, I can’t get inside Rhett’s head but I doubt he uses people. I believe his genuine care for Link can be found in the weirdest examples - those from which Rhett has nothing to gain i.e getting frustrated when Link doesn’t enjoy food as much. Yes, this is a sign of love. Rhett enjoys food so much that he wants to share that enjoyment with Link. He can’t realise Link’s tongue works differently - he thinks Link is missing out and it frustrates him. Another silly example is Rhett buying Apocalypse equipment for a clearly disinterested Link and probably never getting its money’s worth back. This is important to Rhett for some reason and he is concerned enough to protect careless Link as well despite having no personal gain from it.

The truth is that these two men feed off each other; Rhett keeps Link attached to him to always feel worthy and Link keeps Rhett attached to him to always feel safe. However, the fact that Rhett is almost his entire source of safety and that Link is Rhett’s biggest calibrator of worth is indicative of the levels of love and need. Nevertheless, Rhett and Link are not independent people. They were constantly in search of support from one another and they lost themselves in the process of satisfying others or being safe. This is something they are realising only now.

Link’s fear of abandonment is so big that it frequently leads him to an almost paranoid behaviour. It is crazy that he felt left out when Rhett communicated with the audience during a podcast whose key purpose is to… communicate with the audience. His fear here has two sides: 1) that Rhett didn’t consider him an equally important business partner so he preferred to speak directly to the audience and 2) that Rhett isn’t emotionally invested in him in order to open up to him. And by saying he can deceive people if he needs, Rhett doesn’t help Link overcome his huge insecurities. This is why Link begs Rhett to talk to him about his feelings more. He does not understand whether Rhett loves him or uses him. The notion that Rhett doesn’t truly love or appreciate him is one of his biggest fears in life.

As for Rhett, it is certainly huge growth that he starts opening up and being vulnerable to a few thousand strangers yet it all still derives from his need to be accepted by said strangers as I am afraid that the late disproportionate criticism he gets for silly stuff on Twitter and Tumblr surely don’t help him deal with his issues, no matter how hard he tries. Therefore, Rhett is trapped in a vicious circle. Besides, Rhett was overly sensitive to be hurt when Link stated the obvious; that he was being vulnerable in hopes to be understood and accepted, because that was clearly what Rhett was openly doing. However, having someone discussing openly his vulnerability immediately made Rhett retreat back to his shell because no matter how hard he tries, Rhett hasn’t managed to separate vulnerability from weakness in his mind yet.

Long story short, Rhett and Link might be Three and One respectively but I am not sure they have a good understanding of themselves anyway. They may have figured out their types correctly but they certainly narrow their entire sense of being to their unresolved issues and phobias. They entirely lack a sense of self-worth and they probably have not realised the extent of the traumas in their youth. In the Enneagram language, the nine personality types have nine levels of development. I believe Rhett and Link are either in the average levels or the mildest unhealthy level. They are certainly not in the healthy top three levels.

Their obsession with the Ennegram helps only superficially but they seem to have based an illogically huge part of their self exploration on it. The Enneagram might offer some insight but won’t offer the resolutions they long for and badly need in order to find some relief. The ones that come when you confront your environment instead of overanalysing yourself and beating yourself up because of it.

[banashee]

  CW: - swearing - exhaustion - longing / loneliness

Late night and early morning

 In all honesty, it could have been much, much worse. At least, this is what Jon keeps telling himself as he is wide awake in a hotel bed and doesn't even react when a heavy arm is swung over his shoulder, almost hitting him in the face.

 He sighs, not for the first time that night. Jon simply moves the hand out of his face and closer to his shoulder in slight irritation, knowing it won’t stay there for long.

 Predictably, the only answer he gets is a long snore, about as gentle as a chainsaw.

 Eyes heavy, Jon tries to make himself more comfortable. But once again, this proves itself to be a lot harder now that Tim, fast asleep and dead to the world, seems to have chosen him as his own personal pillow. Or teddy bear - it’s a bit of an even tie so far.

 Truth be told, this is not at all what Jon had expected from this work trip.

    A few hours earlier     -

     It isn’t that big a deal, really. Jon and Tim have been sent to a small village up north, in order to investigate an old, abandoned farm building. Strange things are supposed to happen, and well, given the nature of their job, it is on them to take a close and personal look at it.

 Truth be told, the two of them are happy to get out of the city for a bit, especially since it’s on the institute’s dime. They just have to be there, wander the old abandoned farm and then make themselves a few nice and comfortable evenings. There is a small pub, right next to their hotel, and a lake that is nice to sit nearby.

 All in all, it is a rather nice and idyllic place.

 “This is great, I almost feel like we’re on a holiday. Well, minus this part here, maybe.” Tim gestures around and in the general direction of a very old, ragged scarecrow to prove his point. It really is an ugly thing.

 “The village, certainly. Him over there? Not so much.” Jon nods over to the scarecrow, and for a moment, it feels like it might be staring back. He shakes his head - what a silly thought. He continues,

 “I have a feeling we’re wasting our time here. I cannot see anything out of the norm, this place is just… Old. And abandoned. “

 “Well, it adds to the…      Spooky     factor.” Tim grins at the disgusted look on his friend's face as soon as the word leaves his mouth - he knows that “spooky” gives Jon the hives, and admittedly, he’s having way too much fun with it.

 “Eugh. I wouldn’t put it like that, but… Yes. Yes, I think it does.”

 “It’s a psychological thing… But then again, people did disappear here. I’m just not sure if it really is something paranormal or simply, well, crime.” Tim shrugs, and bends forward to take a closer look at some dusty artefacts in a lopsided shelf on the wall. It’s mostly fertilizer, watering cans and all sorts of small tools - nothing that would look suspicious on a farm at all.

 “And as far as we know, Police never found any signs here that would indicate crimes. Still… I’m really not sure about this… Hmm...” with a thoughtful noise, Jon peaks around the corner of a dusty, cob-web covered tractor. Careful not to touch anything, he searches the corner with a torch and almost jumps to the ceiling when the light cone lands on a fairly large spider in her net, surrounded by several egg sacks in the corner. Jon could swear the bloody thing is staring right back at him with way too many hungry eyes.

 “Jesus! Fuck no…”

 “Everything okay?” Tim asks from behind him, and Jon can hear him stepping closer as his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He      hates hates hates    spiders with a passion, and for good reason… But he isn’t willing to discuss this right here.

 “I- yes, I’m fine… I just got startled, is all. Huge spider.” Jon shudders in disgust, and is ridiculously proud that he doesn’t jump at the touch from hand on his back. Mostly because he knows who is coming up behind him.

 “...That’s one big Nope in a web.” Tim agrees, peering over the smaller man’s shoulder and then makes a face.

 “At least there is nothing else to look at there… No hidden doors or anything strange as far as I can tell.”

 “No, it doesn't look like it. Come on, let’s call it a day. We still need to check in to the hotel.”

 “...Right.” quietly thankful for the excuse to leave,  Jon easily falls into step with Tim. They only arrived a few hours earlier, but they knew that once they checked in, they wouldn’t want to leave anytime soon. So, they make their way to the hotel right after the first, very rough investigation.

 It’s a small village and the hotel is easily found. It’s an old, but well taken care of building. Clearly, it is a very central place and looks pleasant enough from the outside. It is definitely a lot nicer than anything either of the researchers would have booked for themselves. But since the institute is paying… Well, they intend to enjoy the stay while it lasts.

 From behind the service desk, Jon and Tim are greeted by a clerk who is of friendly and helpful nature. This is probably why it takes the two men a second to catch on when he reads back the booking information to them for confirmation.

 “So, that is one double for three night’s then, gentlemen. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

 “No thank you, this is fine - wait, a double? Not a twin?”

 The smile on the clerk's face seems to freeze into place, and he begins typing, slightly more panicked than before.

 “I am so sorry, there must have been a mistake in the booking.” Apologetically, he looks up and back and forth between Tim and Jon.

 “...Usually, I’d offer to rebook but as it is, we’re full for the next two weeks. I’m really sorry for the inconvenience, gentlemen.”

 Jon glances over at Tim.

 The two of them have been working together for a while now, and it is safe to say that they’re friends. There might even be something like a mutual crush, but… It’s not like either of them is talking about that part. Instead, they share another quick glance and come to an agreement.

 “That’s alright, we’ll take the double. Please, there is no need to worry.”

 Clearly still embarrassed, the man behind the counter sends them on their way with not only the keys to the room, but also a generous handful of vouchers for the in-house restaurant.

 The evening itself is quiet and comfortable, spent with good food, conversations and friendly banter. It’s easy to forget about the job, now that they’re done for the day. And thankfully, it seems to be a bit of a bust - as frustrating as it is to find that, they still have three nights booked here and they’ll be covered back at the institute for the time being.

 In all honesty, both Tim and Jon could think of plenty that would be worse than being stuck in a nice little village with a friend.

 As the evening is getting late, the two of them make their way up to the small but comfortable room.

 And this is how the two of them end up in the double bed.

     At first, they’re back to back, with a tiny bit of casual distance between them. It’s their careful attempt to not remind themselves of feelings that may or may not be mutual. But that lasts for about five minutes, which is about as long as it takes Tim to fall asleep that night. As soon as he is out, Jon is informed of that fact when the first wave of snores shakes the bed. Or at least, that’s what it feels like.

 “Psst. Hey. Tim. You’re snoring.” he presses out between clenched teeth, but it’s useless. Jon sighs, but he doesn’t try again. For one, he doesn’t want to make a fuss, and he also doesn't really want to wake Tim up.

 Lord knows, he is aware that sleep doesn’t always come easily to him. It doesn’t come easily to Jon himself, either, and that’s not even taking into account someone who clears an entire forest in their sleep right next to his ear.

 And this is when the shifting back and forth begins.

 Arms are flailing, elbows collide with ribs and shins are kicked - Jon does his best to rearrange himself in order to be somewhat comfortable, but it never lasts long.

 That is, until Tim turns over onto his other side and slides his arms around Jon. He shifts a bit, until they’re pressed flush against each other and Jon can feel the warm, even breath on his neck. At least, Tim’s snoring is now way more quiet - more like a soothing white noise instead of the offensive chainsaw.

 Even though it is dark and no one else is awake to see it, Jon can feel the deep flush creeping up his cheeks. But apart from that, he is… Comfortable - happy even.

 His heart is beating faster now, almost hammering out of his chest. It feels like it must be deafening, and Jon is almost surprised that the sound of it doesn’t fill the entire room.

 He didn’t expect any of this, but there is no denying that it feels good to be held, to be close to someone he cares a lot about. But Jon doesn’t know how to address any of this in the future. He is well aware of his ever growing feelings for Tim, but this… This is much more.

 Jon feels warm, happy and comfortable. Laying here like this, surrounded by warmth and with the breathing, sturdy body of his friend pressed against him, the idea of actually talking to Tim about this doesn’t seem too bad anymore.

 Almost without noticing, one of his hands finds its way to Tim’s forearm slung over his chest. Skin brushes against skin, and it feels just right.

 “You couldn't have come up with that position like an hour ago, could you?” Jon asks sleepily, but he smiles. Unsurprisingly, all he gets in response is another quiet snore as Tim tightens his hold around him. It only makes Jon smile wider, but he already drifts off into sleep and doesn’t answer. .

     Sooner rather than later, the next morning comes. The first rays of sunlight creep in through the half closed blinds, tinting the room into a soft glow.

 Tim is the first to wake up, and he is pleasantly surprised when he realizes that there is a weight on his chest and hair tickling his chin. It’s been a long time since he woke up with someone else, and truth be told, he’s really missed that feeling.

 He is especially happy since it is Jon of all people who is currently fast asleep half on top of him. There is something between the two of them, and has been for a while actually. A feeling that seems to grow every day, and yet, neither of them has initiated a conversation about it as of now.

 Tim glances over at the clock on the bedside table - it’s still early, so he closes his eyes again and lets himself drift back off into sleep.

 The next time he wakes up, the sun is completely up in the sky and the clock informs him that they were asleep for longer than they probably should have been.

 Despite all that, Tim doesn’t make a move to wake Jon up, too happy and content to be close to him. Instead, his hands start combing through his hair absentmindedly until eventually, Jon stirs awake. He blinks a few times, clearly taking in the situation, but he doesn’t move away.

 That fact alone makes Tim happier than it probably should.

 “Good morning.” he says, carefully casual while he continues to gently untangle a knot in the other man’s hair.

 “....Just five more minutes…” comes the sleepy response, muffled into his chest.

 “Five more minutes.” Tim agrees, and leans in closer. He’s perfectly fine with that - it’s not like this is a hardship. Not at all.

 But as it is, the idyllic morning can’t last forever. The next time Tim looks at the clock, he realizes that now they really are late - it’s not like anyone would care or find out, but the responsible adult part of him already feels slightly guilty.

 “Jon, wake up. We’re late.” he regretfully informs him, and Jon shifts a bit while opening one eye. He looks like a sleepy cat, and Tim finds that endearing as hell.

 “I suppose we are… But it’s not like anything would wait for us out there.” And grumpy, too. That’s good to know, he figures.

 “Oh wow, I’m sure Creepy Frank over at the farm would be disappointed to hear that.” Tim quips at him, the smile clear in his voice.

 After a beat of silence, Jon lifts his head off of his chest and squints at him through messy strands of his hair.

 “You named the…? You know what, nevermind.” he flops down again and decides to not-care. He’s too tired to deal with this.

 “Well, we’ll spend some time at that farm, we might as well give our ugly friend a name.”

 That actually gets him a laugh.

 “How very charming of you. What time is it?”, he asks then.

 “Half nine.”

 “Half - okay yes we really should get going….” Regretfully, Jon peels himself off of Tim and feels across the nightstand with one hand, searching for his glasses without actually sitting up. Even though they haven’t even left the bed yet, he already feels colder.

     Their day is largely uneventful. Mainly, the two of them keep investigating and walking around the old farm, talking and bantering like they always do. Occasionally, they throw a quip towards Creepy Frank, just for the fun of it, but they still can’t find any evidence of anything that would be relevant to them and their jobs.

 They discuss this while sitting by the lake, comfortably in the shade of a large tree while they’re having a late lunch.

 It’s idyllic and comfortable, and under different circumstances, “romantic” would be a word that could come to mind.

 But as it is, neither of them mentions the last night or the way they woke up. It still doesn’t stop them from sitting closer together than usual, close enough even, so that their legs bump together.

 Maybe, one day, they can come back here together - it's a daydream well worth entertaining.

 When the darkened night sky stretches out over the village, Jon and Tim climb into bed next to each other. But unlike the night before, they don’t even try to keep a distance. In quiet agreement, they shuffle close to one another and rearrange themselves until they’re both in a comfortable embrace. They fall asleep fast that night, listening to each other's heartbeat and breathing until sleep pulls them under.

 By the time morning comes, both Tim and Jon are once again happy, warm and comfortable as they wake up wrapped around each other. Sleepily, they enjoy the gentle physical contact for as long as it lasts.

 They are well rested - better so than either of them has been in a long time.

     Their remaining days in the village are pretty much the same. There is nothing noticeable going on in the old farm and Creepy Frank is unsettling as always.

 Around lunch time on the last day, they have once again made themselves comfortable by the lake. They write their reports there, because there is no point in going back to the farm or the hotel now - they’ll leave later that evening, their luggage already stashed away in lockers at the train station. They’ll miss this place - despite it being technically a work trip, It has been a nice change from their busy everyday life in London. Not to mention the other, more private parts of it all.

 Neither of them has made a move to talk about The Thing between them yet, and maybe that won’t happen until they’re back home - who knows. Just a few times, Tim opens his mouth as if he isn’t sure what to say, but then he always comes around with some sort of joke or teasing.

 Jon picks up on it, but he isn’t great at talking, either. He wants to - but as it is, he remains silent and chews on his words without getting any of them out.

 At first glance, it looks like nothing has really changed, but when Tim and Jon walk to the train station in the early evening, they hold hands the entire way. Once they have found their seats, they continue to do so, but still, neither of them mentions anything. For now, it is perfectly alright. Neither of them wants to have this potentially awkward conversation in public.

 They keep up their conversation and occasionally squeeze the other’s hand in silent acknowledgement.

     The everyday life in London and the Magnus Institute gets them back into its claws almost as soon as they return to work. There isn’t a lot of opportunity to start a serious personal conversation, and so they fall back into their old routine. They work on opposite desks, they share lunch breaks and walk to the library together, and things should be as they always are.

 They are not.

 Jon notices it in himself first. In the short time he’d been away with Tim, those three nights sharing a bed with him had been the best sleep he’d gotten in months, if not years. It had been only three nights - but Jon misses him already.

 When before, he’d been faintly aware of, and mostly ignoring his feelings for Tim, now he lays awake at night because he feels cold and lonely without him.

 Jon stares at the ceiling of his bedroom, eyes itching from tiredness. He’d give anything to fall asleep right now, but he knows it is useless.

 Sleep has always been a difficult topic for him, as insomnia, nightmares and circling thoughts about everything and anything tend to keep him awake on a regular basis. But those three days… Those three days had been special, and Jon isn’t sure he can ever get back from the way that makes him feel.

 One night, about a week after returning back home, he is staring at his ceiling again, half-tempted to text Tim, who always looks tired and worn out when he sees him at work. But Jon doesn’t want to take any chances - what if he does manage a bit of sleep and then gets woken up from a text in the middle of the night?

 His thumb hovers over the send button in their ongoing text conversation.

     Hi,  

     Are you awake?  

 It’s short, but Jon knows it will tell Tim an awful lot. He sighs, unsure what to do. But then, he accidentally moves wrong, and he hits SEND without meaning to. He shoots up into a sitting position in his bed, cursing out loud as he stares at the screen. After the first shock, he calms down. it’s not like he didn’t want to send the text, it’s just that he isn't’t mentally prepared for it. Not really.

 Before he can go down another rabbit hole of thoughts, his mobile phone vibrates in his hand, and a text from Tim appears on his screen.

     Hi, I sure fucking am. Can’t sleep. You?  

     Can’t sleep either. Not since. Well.  

 Jon doesn’t even think as he types his reply, and he sends it off before he can stop himself. He is half tempted to ask if Tim wants company, although he doesn’t know how to phrase that over text. Not with all the feelings they haven’t yet talked about.

 He is saved from agonizing over it when Tim himself asks him the very same question.

     Do you want company?  

 It would be an understatement to say that Jon is relieved.

     Yes, please. I’d like that  

     Tell you what? I’m already on my way. I fucking hate sleeping on my own.  

 That last text makes Jon’s heart beat a little bit faster once again, but he is more relieved than anything. And to his great surprise, it doesn’t take as long as he’d thought it would until his doorbell rings.

 He scrambles out of bed and into the hallway to open the door. It doesn’t occur to him just how frazzled he must look. Deep purple bags under his eyes, hair standing up in every direction as it has escaped from his braid and clothes that are way too big on him and hang off of him like potato sacks.

 He is tired - so, so tired.

 Only a short while later, Tim shuffles out of the lift, and he looks just as exhausted as Jon feels. He must have rolled straight out of bed, put on shoes and a jacket and that’s it.

 Instead of making one of his usual quips, Tim simply slumps into Jon as he hugs him, his head resting on top of the smaller man’s.

 “Hey.” He hugs back and remains standing in the doorway - he is pretty sure they’re both going to fall over if he tries to move now.

 “Hmmm… Much better.” Tim squeezes him a bit tighter, like he always does when he is showing affection. it’s very much him, and Jon finds he is long used to it by now. Even more so, he needs it. It makes him feel warm and reassured.

 “Wanna come in? It’s much more comfortable than the hallway.” he tries to reason, and yawns. All he wants is to get back to bed, preferably with the warm presence that is Tim.

 Quietly, he nods and let’s go of Jon, but very reluctantly so.

 The two of them shuffle back into the dark bedroom, where the covers are kicked aside in a messy tangle. Clear evidence that Jon himself has trouble sleeping as well, even though it is obvious by now.

 Almost wordlessly, the two of them climb in, much like they did the other week in the shared hotel room, and simply hold each other close.

 “Thank you.”

 The words are so quiet, Jon almost misses them. But he doesn’t, and he knows exactly what they mean. As bad as he is with communication and interpersonal relationships sometimes, he understands. He understands and he feels the same.

 “Of course. I missed you, too.” he answers, just as quietly, and without thinking, presses a quick kiss on top of the bright purple mop of hair resting on his chest. It’s ironic, really, how their positions are now in reverse to what they were back on the work trip, but they don’t mind either way. All that counts is that they are close now.

 They don’t talk any more than that, because they are both way too exhausted to hold a conversation.

 As they drift off into sleep, they remain wrapped around each other, soaking up each other's warmth and company like a sponge. Being together feels just right.

 Tim and Jon have been friends for a while, and neither of them could tell when the romantic feelings had first started to show themselves. But they know that they care deeply, and most of all, need each other.

 Falling asleep together is bliss, and it makes them feel safe and loved. It really shouldn’t have been surprising that the two of them had so much trouble after getting a small taste of what could be.

 Jon and Tim hold each other close as they finally fall asleep. Fingers brush softly over beard stubble, hair and exposed bits of skin while their lips quietly find each other in the dark. And really, for now that is worth much more than words.

        “I can’t sleep without you anymore.” They don’t say that night, but they do so the next morning when they wake up, almost in the same embrace as they have fallen asleep in.

 They face each other, and their words are sealed with another kiss. It feels different, in the light of the morning, but it feels just as right as searching for one another at night, exhausted but safe together in the dark.

 “I love you.”, the two of them blurt out pretty much simultaneously soon after, and really, what else is there to say?

 Both Jon and Tim are happy, after all. And so they make their way into the kitchen for breakfast, hand in hand and with a warm, quiet and content feeling spreading throughout them.  

[quasieli]

top six: fictional characters that give you gender envy, flowers, little things that make you happy and d&d moments :D

Ooh lotsa questions!

Gender Envy:

1) Bow from She-Ra (2018). Something about buff athletic dude who wears crop tops and is soft as hell is very Gender to me.

2) Vax from Critical Role. Pretty boy, kinda goth rogue? That’s sexy as hell and I wish that was me. 

3) In a wildly different idea of gender envy, I’ve been thinking about it lately and @quantum-lesbian’s character in the Frostmaiden game I’m in with them, Ambrose, is Big Gender. Beautiful non-binary drow with a starry and kinda witchy aesthetic that dresses super grandly and ostentatiously no matter the occasion? Yes please.

4) Pete from The Unsleeping City, specifically season two. I adore season one Pete but season two Pete that works in a queer bookshop and has a teapot arcane focus, is artsy and is unapologetically a trans man who doesn’t give a shit about gender roles? Sign me the fuck up.  

5) Beau from Critical Role. Buff GNC lesbian mixed with academia, but like academia from the prospective of a grad student with ADHD trying to learn everything about their special interests? A+, I love her and I’m jealous. 

6) I’m gonna cheat a lil bit for this last one. I know the prompt is fictional characters, but Julia Lepetit and Jacob Andrews in their Hitman streams? Simultaneously both of them were Gender for me. Jacob esp felt like that for me, which is weird cause dresses can make me dysphoric, but I am also slightly envious of the Dude in a Dress type of gender presentation. 

Can you tell that I’m a confused trans masc enby

Gonna put it under the cut from here cause oof, there’s still a lot more.

Flowers:

1) Big slut for Sunflowers, always have been, always will be.

2) Fun fact, my dad’s family used to own a flower shop (in like the 70s, so I never got to see it :(), and one of their big things was hydrangeas. My dad has always loved them and now I love the snowballs too!  

3) A recent favorite, the Baker’s Globe Mallow. It’s a type of flower that only grows from the soils of forests that have been affected by wildfires. It’s a simple little flower but I love the idea of something beautiful rising from the ashes after tragedy. A little dramatic, but I’m queer, ofc I’m dramatic.

4) Roses are another important flower to my family (Rose was a family name for a couple generations), and ya know, they’re a classic. 

5) There’s this beautiful magnolia tree in front of my house that blooms with the most beautiful white and pink flowers every spring, and it’s one of my favorite things to see every year. 

6) There’s so many different types of Lillies and they’re all very pretty, but the Purple Stargazer is prob my favorite.

Little Things That Make Me Happy:

1) My cat, Maddie. She may be a cranky girl at times, but she is also very sweet and will always be my baby (even though she is 12). 

2) Not a little thing really, but my best friend. Just getting a sweet/silly text from her or the two of us chilling in a room, sitting in a comfortable silence because we just like being together, nothing better. 

3) Baking, esp if I’m doing it for others. I’m not much of a sweets person myself, a little treat every once in a while type person, but I love baking. It’s a very relaxing process for me, even when it can sometimes get stressful, but seeing people enjoying something I made, especially something that brought me great joy to make, is simply the best. 

4) In the same sorta vein, crafting and other art, but that’s a bit more personal. I love making things for others, but art, particularly drawing, is something I do more for me. It’s such a great feeling when you can get into a really good art mood and just sink yourself into a project. I love it.

5) My plush toys. Yes, I am a 23 year old, no I will not stop loving my plushies. I just got a few new friends, which I made a post about recently, and they such good cuddle buddies. However, there is one king amongst them all. I have this old, beat up christmas puppy beanie baby, on his tag named Jingle Pup, but I just call him Jingle. I had one version of him since I was like 6, but he currently lives on a shelf cause he is very beaten up and fragile, but his “brother”, who I got when I was 8, is still in kinda good shape and is currently chilling on my chest as I type this lol.

6) Again, not a little thing, but it’s important to mention; D&D. The game itself is such a joy, but truly the best part of it is the people. I love creating stories and memories with people through this weird little game. Truly one of my favorite things to do.

D&D Moments:

These are all gonna be personal moments, rather than anything from actual play shows/podcasts. RC is Reforged Campaign, where I play Saube, and FM is Frostmaiden, where I play Sparks.

1) RC - Meeting Mahety, Saube’s girlfriend. We met her way back in session 12 and we are now up to like session 73. Saube saw her and was immediately big heart eyes at her but also felt a bit awkward and shy. So, being a game a dice, I decided to roll. 10 or higher, Saube would talk to her, 9 or lower, she’d stay put. I rolled a 17, 17 is now a lucky number for me. I love Mahety and I’d die for her. 

2) FM - This was an insane fight that should not have been so crazy, but in a fairly early session, my group went up against an angry druid and her awakened animals. So much batshit stuff happened in that fight, and we unfortunately lost our bread loving bard (RIP Agneyis), but one of my favorite combat turns happened in this fight. Our artificer, Omaren, has a robe of useful items and one of the patches on it creates a large pit. Thinking quickly, Omaren tore off the patch, slid it under one of the dire wolves we were fighting and created a looney tunes style pit under it, allowing us to take it out easily via pot shots. Such a clutch move and such a funny visual, especially because the dire wolf kept failing the checks to get out of the pit.  

3) RC - Saube’s Zebrith (I will never remember how this actually spelled RIP). So, for context, Saube ended up with a death curse (long story) that mechanically meant they had disadvantage on any death saving throws. Scary as hell, need to get that fixed! So, Saube and their party had to be smuggled into another country to talk with some religious leaders of a goddess known as The First, the goddess of death. They were told that Saube would have to go through the aforementioned ritual, which included her soul leaving her body for a short period of time. During this ritual, her friends had to call back to her, to say things that would bring her back to her body and I still cry thinking about that game. That ritual was not only important for Saube bodily, but spiritually as well. After that ritual, Saube officially became a cleric of The First! 

4) A real sappy one, RC - Saube meeting all of her friends. Anyone who follows along with the rantings on my blog probably knows how important this game is to me. I met this random group of strangers on tumblr and formed a D&D party with them and now, a year and a half later, I honestly think it’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I know that sounds silly and dramatic but not only has this game brought me so much joy and comfort, but I also gained a group of really amazing friends who have been nothing but amazing since day one. As much as Saube knows she can depend on SICL, I know I can depend on my group of weirdos lol. We both love our friends very much and even though we’ve all been through some crazy shit, we wouldn’t change it for the world.    

5) RC - Just playing Saube in general. I really didn’t intend for it to be this way, but Saube is very much a reflection of myself. She is the first long term character I have ever played and so much of me is in her. I try not to treat D&D like therapy, because that’s unfair to my DM and fellow party members, but playing Saube has allowed me to work through some of my own problems, especially social anxiety, in a lot safer of an environment. It isn’t so much that I’m asking this game to help me fix my life, but playing out these scenarios that, in the real world, would make me anxious or make me freak out, I can stop, take a moment to breathe and work out these issues in a way that makes sense to me. Playing her has led me to understanding myself a bit better, as well, and that’s truly such a wonderfully unexpected gift from this whole experience. 

6) Lastly, a silly one: RC - Getting a crit 6. The last session of this game got real interesting. Saube’s party ended up in the ethereal plane and magic got real fucky there. So, any time any of us tried to cast a spell, we’d roll a d20, not look at the result, and then try to guess what number rolled. The closer to the number, the better the result. A few times, a few people managed to get within like 3 or 4 of their roll, but oh the power I felt when I rolled a 6 (on Saube’s die!) and guessed it correctly! So, not only did the spell (Bless) work, but it worked super well. So instead of getting +1d4 to attack rolls and saving throws, Saube and two other party members got +2d4 to attacks, saving throws and skill checks. So powerful I broke the rules of D&D lmao. 

[yikes-strikes-again]

rating: gen word count: 2271 tags: angst, hurt/comfort, light on the comfort part, canon compliant, the slaughter, the corruption, season 5 spoilers, episode: e163, spoilers for episode: e163, spooky eye powers             summary: Martin learns exactly what happens if Jon doesn't give his statements. Inspired by a line from episode 177. Takes place between episodes 163 and 164.

read on tumblr:

Buried in the wreckage of the blasted wasteland, a typewriter began clicking rapidly.

With soles caked in mud, they crunched through what must have been leagues of the trenches - though, obviously, there was no way to tell. No way to tell how far they had traveled or how far they had yet to go. The Panopticon-Institute remained on the horizon, ever-distant and always looming.

The sounds of war were not far away. Once in a while, artillery fire would tear the silence apart, ripping through the walls of bunkers and causing a throbbing, painful ringing in the ears. Jon and Martin would hold onto each other for support, though often they would still fall into the wet and sloshing ground, caking their clothing in another layer of grime. But here, the danger was less immediate than it was miles ago. Slower, in wounds rather than weapons.

Countless soldiers nursed the bandaged stumps of lost limbs, ones either amputated or blown off. In the case of the former, the procedure rarely prevented infection from spreading through the victim’s veins with each beat of their heart, or cleanly excised the deepest strains of necrotized tissue. They knew this, of course. They knew that they would only get sicker, and the knowledge terrorized them even more than the certain death that lay not a meter above.

Clouds of flies thicker than pudding swarmed around the dead. Well, one hoped they were dead. It was hard to tell when everyone seemed to be on the verge of permanent collapse, either from mortal injury, illness, or an overdose of grief. It didn’t matter why - when someone laid down in this place, they never got up again.

It was calmer on this side of the trenches. Quieter. But in the quelling of the chaos, it gave Martin a chance to process how awful it all was, and that was worse.

He looked at Jon. If he had to guess, he’d say that Jon was faring worse than Martin was. There was a hard set to his shoulders, and he spoke little save to warn Martin of danger or obstacles. When he did speak, his voice was terse and irritable. Martin rarely got a glimpse of his eyes, but when he did, he saw that Jon’s pupils were erratic and searching.

Both of them had been quiet for days, weeks perhaps, ever since Jon had ranted like a madman in that bunker, surrounded by all those catatonic people. Martin didn’t understand  why  he had to do that, why he was compelled to speak of all the awful things that were already upon them, only that something bad would happen if he didn’t. He had made it clear that Jon would find no audience for his ramblings in Martin, and Jon had accommodated that thus far.

Martin stopped at the turn of the trench, finding a more gentle slope of the wall to rest his shoulder upon, though the soil was damp and rancid-smelling. He didn't feel fatigue, but his shoes were not meant for hiking, and they were uncomfortable. He was soaked to the bone, filthy, and freezing cold, and he really wanted to know when he could stop being that way.

Jon stopped so suddenly that his boots skidded on the mud and he had to sway to keep his balance.

“What is it now, Martin?”

There was no resignation to his voice, no apathy or even frustration, unlike before. Just pure, stifled anger, and the cryptic storm brewing from behind his eyes.

Martin looked at him pleadingly. “Can’t you tell me anything about how long we’ve still got to walk? At least until we get out of… this place.”

Jon sighed the sigh of a parent who had been asked “Are we there yet?” by their impatient child one too many times. “Like I said the first two thousand times, time and space  do not exist in the way they once did. When the world was whole and there existed minds who knew not of terror.” He cringed almost imperceptibly, and scrubbed at his temples with his palms. “As much as I hate to hear the phrase myself, we will get there when we  get  there.”

It felt silly to complain about someone’s bad attitude when they were in a literal hellscape, but Martin didn’t like the way he’d started speaking through gritted teeth. He wanted respite from this particular nightmare, yes, but he also wanted to know why Jon was so angry.

Martin didn’t get the sense that it would do any good to ask him, though.

He sighed. “It’s been so long.  What if we never get there? Just wandering in circles in a never-ending trench.”

“Well, Martin, we  will never get there if we keep stopping to burrow a nightmare and ceaseless frenzy.”

He paused to consider that. He figured he’d heard wrong - his hearing was still a bit muted from the gunfire. “What?”

“I said, we’ll never get there if gangrene blisters or sanguine bagpipes.”

“What?  What the hell does that mean?”

Jon made an irritated noise, then spoke slowly as if talking to someone who was very stupid. “Agony bore a bloody sickle for crushing the sleepless.”

Martin stared at him, and narrowed his eyes, gripped by a dawning horror that had nothing to do with the disease and death that surrounded him. “Jon, you’re not making any sense.”

Some of the anger faded from Jon’s expression. Then, suddenly, he clutched at his head with both hands as if in pain. His eyes widened, focusing briefly on Martin before returning to the million things that only he could see.

“Sever,” he said pointedly. And, as if spurred on by something, he continued, both voice and body shaking with intensity. “Limbs metallic see bloated warhead and vicious gas spitting cauterize through. Spleen pale cannon warhead bile where tetanus sinews. And gore and ring and soldier visceral from bodies brother teeth for rancid crimson darkness.” He spoke with such terrible certainty, as if he fully expected Martin to comprehend the meaning of every word.

The corners of Martin’s mouth became taut, but since smiling requires the pretense of happiness, he did not smile. “Listen, Jon, I know we’re both under a lot of stress, but this is a really bad way to try and lighten the mood, okay? It’s not funny. You’re scaring me.” He drew a sharp and shaking breath and released it in a hollow imitation of laughter. “What’s the matter with you, anyway? Are you just taking something out on m—”

“Chaotic laughter and screeching god.” Jon’s eyes were on him, but they weren’t looking at him. They were wild, desperate. Something awful was happening to him, something that caused him to forget how to stand, that ceaselessly filled his mind with secondhand terrors, that stole his voice and gave it to the neverending flood of words that rose like bile from his throat. “Iron hands, jettison liver, with heroic terror bullets and mottled rage buzzing, burning and lungs gone. Necrotized gurney which hell hath nuclear rot aching, whose shivering eye orders and despairs, immobile river filth screaming for prison and tear—”

“Jon, stop!” Martin pushed off the wall and stumbled over to where Jon had slipped onto the filthy earth. He shook him. “Snap out of it!”

“— off running, smoke and cloth the bacteria acrid, with hungry singing comrade forever hidden. Writhing from crater, sobbing but the fever moans flaking to clinging, melting daggers. Helpless pathway churning through exploding infinity—”

Martin was nearing his wits’ end. He dragged Jon, who went limp, into a nearby dugout, so tiny that sunlight still shone across most of its floor. He tried to block out the onslaught of babbled nonsense that somehow evoked a thousand nightmarish images as clear as day, but Jon’s voice had taken on that quality that made it impossible not to listen. He continued to shake him with repetitive, mechanical regularity, but as the words bore into his brain Martin’s movements grew weak and yielding.

Jon lay on Martin’s lap, staring far beyond the dirt ceiling. “Gorging jaws of metal death surround your blood-borne reach towards distant jargon, but surreal enemy adrenaline has harrowed pathological exaltations. Barbed manslaughter. Feeding warfare. Stinging trigger…”

His eyes fell to him for a split second. “Martin,” he said, and Martin remembered to breathe. But the moment was gone as quick as it had come, and Jon was launched into another disjointed tirade.

If the hands of his watch spun as reliably as they once had, Martin might have found that he sat crouched in that dugout for exactly six hours and thirty-four minutes, keeping Jon’s back out of the mud. But, for what it was worth, it felt like years. Jon continued his nonsensical ranting, scarcely stopping to breathe, and from the way he desperately spat the words one got the feeling that he wished he didn’t have to. His voice rose and fell at random, reaching sudden and unpredictable climaxes of raving and shouting before settling back into a listless murmur. Trying to ignore him was an exercise in futility. Every few words a new, terrible image would implant itself into Martin’s mind, and then another, and another, together weaving a tapestry of terror from the thread of Jon’s omnipotent train of thought. He couldn’t stop listening, and Jon couldn’t stop talking, so whenever Martin’s thoughts weren’t drowned out by the bile of the Beholding they were filled with despair.

Would this never end? Were they doomed to rot in this place, their minds slowly unraveled by the power of the Eye filtered only by Jon’s droning voice? Would they never move again, like all the rest in this awful place, locked in a stony embrace like some warped parody of The  Pietà?

Martin couldn’t know. But in between terrors, it was all he could imagine as tears ran down his face.

It was a small mercy that this particular fear of Martin’s wasn't due to come about just yet. The first clue was that the flood of words had slowed to a trickle. The second was that when Jon paused for breath, it was deeper and less hurried than before. His voice had lost its former vigor, and it was all Martin could hope that he had finally started to exhaust himself.

“... never respite from wretched hope… singe a coagulated daylight swarm… justice not for careening wails… farewell… slaughter,” he paused, panting. “Finished” was too hopeful a word, and his voice carried no note of finality.

But there was a blessed silence. Martin expected it to end at any moment, but it stretched on as the seconds passed. There were distant cries of war, and the sound of Jon trying to make up for the breath he’d lost, but it all faded into nothing in the presence of the euphoric silence.

Several minutes passed this way, and it was only then that Martin dared to speak with the expectation that he’d get a response.

“Jon,” he began, finally daring to make eye contact - his otherworldly gaze had been far too intense to meet, before - and found that Jon was seeing him again. “What… happened?”

He blinked at Martin. There was another silence, shorter and more deliberate than the last, but less comfortable. “I—” He cleared his throat. “I think… I just…” He grabbed his temples with both hands and winced, and Martin pulled them both out of the light.

A moment’s migraine, and Jon collected himself. “There’s just… so much. Fear. Everywhere we go, from everyone in the world. I see it all. I  feel  it all.” Martin listened passively, despair replaced by a deep frustration. He knew this, and Jon knew how he felt about being his… receptacle for it all. But he didn’t interrupt.

“We have been through a domain of The Slaughter, and are now passing into one of The Corruption. I’ve been… accumulating more and more of The Slaughter’s fear all this time, and now that we’re leaving it… I suppose it wanted me to let it out. Now or never.” He paused. “And... I  have  to let it out, willingly, or else…”

“This happens.”

Jon sighed. “Apparently.”

Martin considered this, wondering if Jon could see the tear tracks that had left clean paths down his otherwise dirty face.

“Why didn’t you just give a statement? You know…  before  it was forced out of you?”

Jon looked at his hands for a long time. Then, in a small, guilty voice, he said, “I was trying to keep it inside.”

“Keep it inside?  Why?  ”

“I thought…” He covered his mouth in the gesture of one whose face burned with shame. “I thought I could control it, if I just willed it hard enough. These trenches… too long. Too narrow. There was nowhere for you to go. I didn’t want to stop, and I didn’t want to leave you.”

Martin stopped, and he softened. “Jon.” He sighed through his nose, and placed his hand on the back of Jon’s head. Then he brought him up into an embrace. “This was worse.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he murmured into Martin’s neck.

“... I’m just glad you’re okay.”

They stayed like that for an undefinable amount of time, relishing the only avenue of comfort available to them anymore. Then, with Jon clinging to Martin for support, they climbed to their feet, and set out under the sky again, which had at some point shifted from violent red to a sickly yellow. A new understanding dawned on them both, mostly Martin, who resolved to allow Jon his space when he needed to… vent.

He only wished the knowledge hadn’t had to come from personal experience.

Something lurking in the ruins ripped the page off the typewriter, and its keys never made a noise again.

[universallywriting]

Drive Home

Steven's breath puffed in the air as he came to sit beside her, feet crunching in the frost and pine needles. He was glad they'd planned it the way they did, just cold enough so the Rocky Mountains were dusted with snow. Specks of brown and green covered the mounds that swallowed up the horizon, towering and beautiful, almost touchably close and endlessly far at the same time. Pine trees circled close around them, boulders jutting up from the earth, and he came to sit down on one beside Connie with a smile.

It was odd up in the mountains. Occasionally hikers would pass them by, or a family of tourists, but off the more well-worn trails that was rare. It was still odd for Steven, who so rarely traveled, to see so many people pass him by that he didn’t know the names of. So often he felt like he should see Buck’s familiar deadpan face, or hear Jenny’s laugh from one of the people that passed him by.

But the only familiar face was Connie’s. The thermos of tea he had brought her was hot in the metal flask. When they drove lower, he would switch back to her favorite black teas, carefully measured with swirls of honey and just the right kind of milk to make her smile. But high up in the mountains, the water didn’t boil hot enough.

Just thinking of her face the first morning she’d tried to make them both tea at 10,000 feet was enough to make him smile. The weak brew had made her nose wrinkle up in confusion, baffled at her perfectly measured cup failing, before she burst into giggles and explained the correlation between how water boiled and the altitude.

She was so brilliant. He handed it to her, enjoying the feel of being stupidly in love and out in the world alone with her before murmuring, “How do you feel?”

"Small. But in a good way. You?" She took a deep breath of mountain air, looking over the landscape. He wondered if she felt the same as him, or if we-moved-a-lot Connie never felt that same warm loneliness.

"Same." He smiled and looked back out. Questions about wanting to see familiar faces could be saved for the road home when they were barefoot and bored. “Wish I had come to places like this more often. Oceans are beautiful but... Nothing makes you feel more like a speck than a mountain. It's comforting."

"Just another little person, running across a big marble." She nudged him softly with her free hand. "Gets a little too much when you really see the marble though. I think going out in space can make Earth feel a little too small."

Steven nodded. "Yeah. This is a good middle ground. Earth feels big. I feel small. I like it this way.”

“Why don’t we stay?” Connie asked lightly. “Drive around forever.”

“I could be happy getting lost in these woods,” he agreed, but there was no weight to it. There was no weight to her words either. They swept away in the breeze, tumbling down stone and needles and babbling brooks to the world beneath.

"Me too." Her fingers wrapped tight around the sketchbook in her lap, the cover digging into her skin just at the brink of hurting. "I'm, um... I'm done with it, by the way. With my portfolio. I’ll submit it in the morning."

"That's great!" Steven said, throwing his arm around her shoulders with an eager squeeze. His lips found her temple in a reassuring kiss, seeing the nerves in the stiff lines of her body. "I'm so proud of you. Did the landscapes turn out the way you wanted?"

She opened her sketchbook and Steven eagerly looked over her shoulder, never tiring of the contents. It started with the temple. The morning they left Steven had found her on the beach, wrapped up in a hoodie in the early dawn chill, sketching his home and occasionally sipping at a coffee that had gone cold, and though she had insisted it wasn’t important, he had happily delayed their start until she finished.

Connie flipped to fields of grain. Traveling the midwest had been much less exciting than he expected. Keystone had rolled by and their eyes had glazed over as everything seemed to be the same three trees and two rocks. They had burst into Buckeye and passed through Kansas and had mumbled incoherently about corn while the radio tried to keep them alive and driving. That night they had stared at Connie’s grain drawing with a ghostly horror, neither of them remembering when she had drawn the stuff.

She moved past a drawing of rolling grassy hills. In Nebraska, he had floated to the top of the RV with her. While she drew, he had read about the Great Plains on his phone. They had taken a moment, in warm breeze and isolation, to let tears hit their eyes and cries choke their lungs as they read about what happened to buffalo who had roamed there once. They had whispered about colonies of all kinds, and there was no one around to reassure them, so they took the time to mourn things that might have been.

They had done the same in sand dunes, or close to it. The sketch she passed held more memory than a picture, the grays of her pencil capturing more than just the desert, but him breaking down over Kindergartens sucking life from the earth. Another sketch just after, with a lovely pink flower blossoming on top of a cactus, and he could hear her voice reassuring, “Nothing’s as lifeless as you’d think.”

Connie paused on his favorite, the polar bear she had sketched from the San Diego Zoo. They had spent such a long day there, but when they got to the polar bears she had stopped and gushed about them. The Spirit Morph saga had inspired her to do research, and she rambled facts. Polar bears had terrible success rates, with only two percent of their hunts being successful, did he know? 

He really liked that idea. The largest bear of all, living in such a harsh environment, failed almost all the time. It fumbled and watched as victory slipped away, but it came back to try another day. It survived.

She finished on a sweeping mountain landscape, not too different from the one they sat in now. Connie set her phone next to it, a copy of her finished project next to the rougher draft. "That's the last one," she said quietly, pointing to the screen. "I think it turned out okay."

"It makes Earth look beautiful. I’d put it in a gem brochure," he reassured. “You chose a lot of amazing stuff.”

She bit her lower lip. “I hope so. I tried to choose what a school would think is best, not just the stuff I think is great. The stuff that shows skill, you know?

He kissed her cheek this time, saying, "Any school is going to be lucky to have you. You're amazing, Connie."

"I'm okay," she said, voice very practical about her own skills. Connie looked at him with a little laugh. "I don't know what's scarier - getting rejected or getting in. Mom was mad enough about the world US road trip gap year."

"She got over it! You know, after the meltdown." Steven said, wincing a little at the memory. He had sat behind her, trying to support her as quietly as possible while Priyanka and Connie growled and snapped at one another, each insisting on how the next year should be spent. And, at the end, the tearful apologies, the confessions of fear over the future… He had to admit that it was a relatable feeling, even if no one had fought with him.

"She'll get over this too. Come on. This is what you've always wanted. You're going to be an animator, Connie,” he said, and just saying the word made her eyes go a little wide with hope. 

He remembered her earliest drawings with him, rougher but already so much nicer than his own. He remembered her working through how to draw anime books, silly cat-eared characters with huge eyes. Steven remembered her fumbling beyond that, hours of Tubetube tutorials, crying at the tablet he got her for her birthday, the countless gifts of fanart for his favorite shows. He remembered trembling hands the first time she showed him a comic, with characters he had never seen, because she had snatched them from the air the way he grabbed music.

Steven knew he was tearing up again like he did every time he told her, but he could never hold it back. “It’s what you live for, Connie. It’s what makes you happy. You're going to tell stories."

Connie breathed again, taking in pine and chill and rocks older than even the Crystal Gems by orders of magnitude. The world was big and wide and old, the universe even more so, and usually that made her problems feel small. But nothing could swallow up the fear and doubt today. She took his hand tight in her own.

"This has been amazing. Driving across the country, seeing all these different parts of the world, pitstops to warps so we can see everything Earth has to offer. Steven, I..."  She looked up at him, shaking her head in disbelief. "These past ten months have been the best months of my life. Everyone said we were going to get sick of each other. Your dad gave us that speech about how it was okay to bail. Everyone thought we were going to mess this up but... I'd do this for another year if it wasn't for college."

He was careful not to jostle her phone or sketchbook from her lap as he lifted her hand and pressed it to his lips. "I loved this. I love you. No expectations. No scary future. No responsibilities. Just a big journey together.”

“I’m glad you loved it as much as I did,” she said with a smile.

“More than that. I needed it.” He laughed and shook his head. “Connie, I never could have asked for anything better than this. Everything at home was a mess. I’m so tired of all the work and responsibility and wondering what I’m going to do with my life. But this past year I just got to be with you and not be afraid."

"But now we have to go home," she whispered looking at the RV parked behind them. The place where they slept and ate. The place where they made stupid jokes and listened to terrible radio and podcasts. The place where they’d cried and kissed and worked through things they never thought they’d work through. But that was over now, and it loomed like a hearse. “We have to get in there and drive all the way back to Beach City. And then I... I have to wait to see if I get accepted.”

She laughed, cold and bitter, and took a hand to wipe at her eyes. He couldn’t see any tears falling, but Connie felt them stinging. “I’ve messed up on a lot of stuff, Steven. I know I seem smart, but most of it is from studying so hard. I’m not… special. I’m not talented. The odds are good they’re not gonna want me. And if they don't, I guess I'll go be a doctor or something. And, if they do, I..."

I’m screwed either way.

Steven shook his head hard. "You'll be an animator," he insisted. He took the thermos and set it aside, untouched, just so he could take both her hands in his. "You'll do exactly what you've been doing ever since I met you - telling stories. You'll finally get to be who you've always wanted to be."

She winced. "But my mom-"

"Who cares?" Steven said, barely holding back his temper. "We spent a year, just the two of us! You don’t need her to agree."

"Ten months," she corrected softly. "But, you're right. We did."

Steven didn’t like his temper. He didn’t like how angry he got. He didn’t like how easily he could drag Connie into it, drown her in it when they fused. He felt guilty about that. He worried about that a lot, that maybe his anger meant he wasn’t as good of a person as he liked to try to be. He loved Dr. and Mr. Maheswaran, didn’t he? His anger shouldn’t be so burning and flaring when all they wanted was for Connie to be safe.

But his feelings for her parents got tangled in his own, and when he started down that path he felt that little voice hissing that they should leave them alone, and that they could do things on their own, and for once they wanted to live their own lives and forge their own paths, and was it really so much to ask for unconditional support in that?

Steven took a steady breath to calm himself. "She should be in your life. The gems should be in my life. But nobody... Nobody gets to tell you what to do with it. It took me so long to figure that out. I didn't get that making other people happy and hurting yourself to meet their expectations aren't the same thing. I spent my whole life trying to be my mom. I didn't know what to do when I wasn't."

Connie nodded weakly. "I know."

He took her face in his hands, pressing her forehead to hers. "You're not your mom. You never have been. You don’t love rules and coloring inside the lines. You sneak candy into movies and find loopholes in the law and climb giant robots and... And you love books. And comics. And television. You love survival." 

Steven flipped back to the polar bear, gently tapping the page. "You drew this because of the warrior bears in the Spirit Morph Saga, because those books meant everything to you, and you want to make something like that for other people. That’s who you are. You want to inspire people like people who have inspired you."

She closed her eyes, trying not to cry. “I know. But I’m… I don’t know if I…”

“I’ve seen you capture Pearl on a page, and I can see all her determination and all her fear at the same time,” he whispered. “I’ve seen you draw your dad as a superhero, with a goofy flashlight and a big smile, because that’s who he was when you were small. You… You drew me, Connie.”

His thumbs smoothed over her cheeks as he took a shuddering breath. “You drew me the way you love me. It was just me, sleepy in our RV, and I looked peaceful and happy and I was looking outside and… and I could feel the way I love our stupid little rock. I was human and not human and I loved it, Connie. You made me feel so much.”

“I know, Steven. I know you feel the things I make but…” She whimpered, the tears he hadn’t seen before finally rolling. “What if I'm not good enough? What if I reach for Kansas and burn out halfway there?"

Steven hugged her tight, and let her bury her face in his shoulder. They were all alone up there, softly rustling trees holing them up from the terrifying landscape ahead. But there were such beautiful things below, pressed into the pages of Connie’s sketchbook, and it was time to face them all.

“I’ll pick you up.” His face buried in her hair, thoughts of their families fresh in his mind, and there was only one thing to promise, "I'll drive you home. And we'll all love you anyway."

[silentauroriamthereal]

A Meme

bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations, then tag nine people

tagged by: @totallysilvergirl; therefore I consider it a command! Also, because you all know how verbose I am, I’m adding my own commentary at the bottom of each paragraph/section thingy. 

i have small hands / i love the night sky / i watch small animals and birds when i pass them by / i drink herbal tea / i wake to see dawn (not willingly, but since I have to get up then, anyway, one might as well enjoy it!)/ the smell of dust is comforting / i’m valued for being wise / i prefer books to music / i meditate / i find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

No, I have big, strong hands with tiny, child-sized nails, and that’s fine. Lol. They’ve gotten very tendon-y and vein-y since I took up weight lifting and lost a lot of weight and I love that. I love the sky at any time of day. I drink all the teas, except for rooibus, which isn’t even tea, and can go to hell. Sorry, sorry. If you like it, good. Who likes the smell of dust???? Seriously. Wise? I’m not completely sure about that one. Intelligent, yes. Wise? I do strive for wisdom, and sometimes I think I achieve it. I prefer silence, honestly. Being a classical musician definitely gives one a love for having not-music on. Hence my name. I don’t really meditate, but I did briefly take up tai chi again during the three months of my shutdown. It’s over for me personally, since I had to go back to physical work a month ago. Barf. I’d rather be at home. 

fire.

i don’t have straight hair / i like to wear ripped jeans and overalls / i play an organized sport / i love dogs / i am not afraid of adventure / i love to talk to strangers / i always try new foods / i enjoy road trips / summer is my favorite season / my radio is always playing

I have ridiculous hair. It’s very fine and would curl on a humid day if it’s behaving nicely, but if it doesn’t, it’s just frizz. In winter I typically dry it and straighten it, or it’s just lank and frizzy at the same time. Awful. I wore ripped things as a teen, but now I attempt to pass as an adult most of the time. I despise team sports but like doing sport-adjacent things on my own, like working out and swimming and such. I would love to learn to kiteboard, but it’s too expensive and I don’t have a way to get to a beach (no car, no money: classic). Dogs are Good. Unless they’re brainless morons (but really, even then!) I do like adventures, sometimes. I *can* talk to strangers and do it all the time. Professionally, even. About genocide. Lol. I don’t always want to, but I certainly can do it. New foods are fun. Road trips are pretty good, though I prefer planes and boats (but not cruises, gross). Fall is my favourite, especially in places that have maples. I don’t have a radio and loathe the sound of them. I haven’t heard a radio in ages, since, again, no car. 

water.

i wear bracelets on my wrists / i love the bustle of the city / i have more than one set of piercings / i read poetry / i love the sound of a thunderstorm / i want to travel the world / i sleep past midday most days / i love dimly lit diners and fluorescent signs / i rewatch kids’ shows out of nostalgia / i see emotions in colors not words

I almost never wear bracelets, but if I do, I guess the wrist is the normal place to put them. I do love cities. I’m very much a city person. That said, I’m also quite happy to escape to a lake/ocean/wilderness now and then. I have two holes in each earlobe, a piercing in my upper left ear cartilage, and used to have an eyebrow piercing until it was pointed out that it would almost certainly be detrimental for my then-opera career (fledging though it was...) I don’t often read poetry, but I do sometimes. Thunderstorms are fantastic. I love travel, though maybe not just now. Plus, again, no money. I am naturally nocturnal, but the world doesn’t accommodate that. If I don’t set alarms, within 48 hours my sleep cycle shifts to 5am-12pm. Like clockwork. However, I get up at 6:30am for work, so... I aim for midnight. I’m constantly overtired because of this. I loathe “nostalgic” Americana with a passion. I also hate children’s TV shows, and they’re not nostalgic because I wasn’t allowed to watch any of those shows. Nothing that wasn’t deemed educational. I don’t even know what this last one means. (Too pragmatic, I guess...) 

earth.

i wear glasses or contacts / i enjoy doing the laundry / i am a vegetarian or vegan / i have an excellent sense of time / my humor is very cheerful / i am a valued advisor to my friends / i believe in true love / i love the chill of mountain air / i’m always listening to music / i am highly trusted by the people in my life

I wear glasses. I used to wear contacts, but one day - spring of 2009, specifically - my eyes very abruptly decided that they were not having contacts anymore, ever, period. So: glasses. I do actually like keeping my little apartment clean, but laundry is not my fave. I’m almost the opposite of a vegetarian/vegan: I’m keto/almost carnivore, lol. It’s what I need for my particular health/lifestyle goals. I eat mostly vegetables, meat, dairy, nuts/seeds, etc. Time? I’m half-German. Yeah: I’m punctual, and consider it highly rude not to be. My humour is sarcastic, silly, dry, dark - but not really “cheerful”, per se. People do come to me for advice. (”Dump his ass, girl!” Always. Lol.) I do believe in true love, though mostly for fictional characters. Lol. Mountain air: yes. Very good. I listen to music when I need to for music-themed work, or to walk or work out to. For me, listening to music is an active activity, not a background activity, ditto for podcasts, so I rarely do either, because it’s the only thing I can do. I work at being trustworthy, meanwhile. 

aether.

i go without makeup in my daily life / i make my own artwork / i keep on track of my tasks and time / i always know true north / i see beauty in everything / i can always smell flowers / i smile at everyone i pass by / i always fear history repeating itself / i can love unconditionally

I don’t wear much make-up, but I do wear some. Nothing on my face itself, just a bit of light eyeshadow and mascara. I’m pretty organized. Where I live, if I smiled at everyone, I’d get meth addicts following me home. History DOES repeat itself and not enough people fear that nearly enough. I think I do love unconditionally, but to love selflessly is always something we can work at doing more and better. 

Tagging: @chained-to-the-mirror, @yaycoffee, @flannelsaurus, @inevitably-johnlocked, @cathykell, @bakingsherlycakes, @atisenia, @88thparallel, and @shiplocks-of-love. Just if you want to! 

[mynachopaper]

Heyo...I’d like you to answer all of the weird questions that say a lot please...😇🖤

That’s very naughty of you. I expect payment when I’m done...

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

Wine glasses. I love their shape

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolate

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

Bubble gum, I like the oral fixation

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

Wierd, creepy, creative. “He needs to find an outlet or have a beating”- My arabic teacher

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

Glass bottles

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Tomboy

7. earbuds or headphones?

Headphones

8. movies or tv shows?

Both

9. favorite smell in the summer?

river in the cedar forest

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

Fencing

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

Nothing (sometimes fruit if I need to)

12. name of your favorite playlist?

SHmood

13. lanyard or key ring?

key ring

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Turkish delights

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

Simon versus the Homosapien agenda

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Legs to my chest on a chair

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

My trainers

18. ideal weather?

Thunder and rain

19. sleeping position?

Curled up on my side

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Notebook but laptops are great for convenience

21. obsession from childhood?

Horror stories and or occult (Yes I cringe too)

22. role model?

Don’t have one

23. strange habits?

I like to practice voices and movements (mostly for DnD) anywhere. Shopping, cooking, with the cat. normally I’m on my own but I’ve been caught a few times.

24. favorite crystal?

Obsidian

25. first song you remember hearing?

Wide, wide as the ocean- My dad sang it to me as a kid

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Swimming

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

Bonfire jumping (used to do it with the scout kids)

28. five songs to describe you?

Fall into me- Alev Lenz

Rush- I am waiting for you last summer

Smile- Nat King Cole

Limb to limb- Fatal

Kiss breakdown- Micheal Brook (Perks of being a wallflower soundtrack) 

29. best way to bond with you?

Discuss your passions and your fears. Other than that, play silly games with me.

30. places that you find sacred?

Anywhere that is deemed so. 

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

My pajamas (honestly no idea)

32. top five favorite vines?

Don’t have favourites.

33. most used phrase in your phone?

I love you to the moon and back.

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

I have adblock so I don’t hear enough for them to get stuck. Maybe the old spice commercial.

35. average time you fall asleep?

12-1am

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

The orly owl

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

Duffel bag

38. lemonade or tea?

lemonade

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

Lemon meringue pie (obviously)

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

Nothing too weird. We did have a slew of dead birds that were killed and placed in weird positions. They were claimed to be omens.

The culprit was never caught. But I did have an old journal where I kept notes on them. I lost it in the move though..

41. last person you texted?

My online friend in the uk

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

Jacket pockets

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

Hoodie, I need the soft

44. favorite scent for soap?

sandalwood

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy, DnD for life

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Shirt and underwear

47. favorite type of cheese?

Brie

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

Orange

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

Already answered

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

When my friend and I got stuck in traffic so we listened to the John Mulaney story about the salt and pepper diner. Afterward we actually made the playlist and listened to it. We died, the song got to us and we lost our minds.

51. current stresses?

My Father being ok back home. Me not finishing uni. Breaking my promise to my friends back home of making something of myself.

52. favorite font?

Bree Serif

53. what is the current state of your hands?

Their ok, quite dexterous. My nails have grown out too

54. what did you learn from your first job?

People take production for granted. The public opinion of a show means little. The entertainment industry is weaker than everyone treats it.

55. favorite fairy tale?

The Bloody Chamber

Book by Angela Carter

56. favorite tradition?

Our family does breakfast in bed for the birthday person

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

Self harm, the invasion of my country, getting out of my old life.

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

I improvise well, I remain calm in an emergency, and am often the first to act. I have good emotional skills. I will always find a way, though it often comes at great cost.

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

After someone tells me I can’t do something “HAVE YOU MET ME?!”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

Probably Shonen. Love me some JoJoBA

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

Yeah, I stayed. I stayed, because every time you threw a brick at my head, or said I smelled, it *hurt*; but it could never hurt more than every day of my life just being *me*! I *stayed* because I thought, if anyone can change me, can make me... *not* me, it was you! - Kung Fu Panda

62. seven characters you relate to?

Tarzan-Stich-Quisimodo-Ginger (From Chicken run)- Po (Kung fu Panda)- Mulan (Yes really)- Charlie (Perks of being a wallflower)

63. five songs that would play in your club?

Shut up and dance with me- Walk the moon

Suzy- Caravan Palace

Rocket Fuel feat. De La Soul - DJ Shadow

Come with me now - KONGOS

Dance with me tonight - Olly Murs

64. favorite website from your childhood?

Miniclip

65. any permanent scars?

Some on my arms and a large one on my forearm 

66. favorite flower(s)?

I’m a cliche, I love roses

67. good luck charms?

My Celtic ring and my pride pin

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

It was chocolate shrimp in Sanfrancisco. Fad food with an abhorrent mixture.

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

Spiders don’t kill every prey that falls into their web. Sometimes they just wrap them up and let them squirm helpessly.

70. left or right handed?

Right, unless eating

71. least favorite pattern?

Uh... not sure

72. worst subject?

Maths

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

Fries and Icecream

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

8

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

I was 5

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

Baked potatoes, especially with Sour cream and garlic 

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

A succulent?

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Sushi from grocery

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

School Id (not by much though)

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

Jewel tones

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

Fireflies

82. pc or console?

PC

83. writing or drawing?

Writing, though I wish I could draw

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Podcasts

84. barbie or polly pocket?

Neither

85. fairy tales or mythology?

Mythology

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies

87. your greatest fear?

That I had no impact on anything

88. your greatest wish?

To gain the power to change the world

89. who would you put before everyone else?

The one I love. A partner (If we had a child then it falls to them)

90. luckiest mistake?

When I had an accident at work over my selfharm wounds. Some metal staging scraped against my arm.

91. boxes or bags?

Bags

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

Fairylights

93. nicknames?

Teddy, Monster, Quis

94. favorite season?

Winter

95. favorite app on your phone?

Reddit is fun

96. desktop background?

My current Pfp

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

2 My parents

98. favorite historical era?

Don’t really have a favourite

[jackjots]

#4 Hospitality

Wayward Guide for the Untrained Eye 30 Day Prompt

(This takes place around the first half of Episode 4)

Day #4 @30daysofwayward

CW: Mention of blood (I do not own any other characters or place names outside of Shelby St. Ranger, this is just for fun)

They say practice makes perfect, and over the years I had crafted the perfect hangover. I made some coffee, grateful I’d brought it with me from my car. My car. I groaned, leaning against the counter as the coffee brewed. I called the shop as soon as it opened, and arranged for my car to be towed. They told me what time I could expect it to be done, and as I hung up I realized I should have asked what their hours were. I pushed the thought away. I should just try to get some work done, and then go get my car. Go to the library. Drop off the book. Come back home and work more. That’s all I should do. 

I poured my cup of coffee and as I looked at the dark abyss I thought of Prism’s dead eyes. I grabbed some milk from my fridge and poured it in to disrupt the abyss. The clouds of white mixing with the coffee almost had a red tint to it, or was I imagining it? I violently opened my drawer and grabbed a spoon, using it to stir the thoughts away and made the coffee a caramel color. I didn’t love the taste of milk in my coffee, but my mouth tasted sour anyway so it really made no difference. 

I sat down at my computer and as soon as the screen blared white at me I turned it off again. I grabbed a pen and paper instead, but regardless of the medium, my head pounded and my words were all dried up. I fetched my mail and didn’t bother opening it. I laid on the couch after taking some pain killers and getting through most of the cup of coffee, and let my thoughts wander back to the night before. I tried to piece together my hunch about Desmond, but once again I was having trouble envisioning him as some sort of criminal mastermind. Also, ripping pages out of a book, slashing tires, and murder didn’t quite line up in my head. And why would it be the chapter on werewolves? It didn’t make sense. 

I thought of the person I’d bumped into and sat up. Fur coat. I groaned as my head hurt again and gently laid it back down. I scolded myself for such a silly thought, and decided I needed some water. 

After a few glasses and more leaning over my sink just in case, I decided to take a shower. I took a small nap and it was as if my normal brain had come back. I had time for a small meal before I had to start my trek back into town to get my car. 

I brought the book, with the intention to return it and be done with the whole thing. 

On my walk, I remembered I was missing the town council meeting, with only a moment of regret from my still lingering curiosity. I turned onto the street that became the main drag of town. They’d towed my car back for me, as an expensive favor, since it would’ve been too far to walk, and I’d already paid over the phone. My car was right where I’d left it, with brand new tires. I got in the car and sat for a moment. The curiosity came back in the stillness and quiet of my car. I couldn’t just leave. I had to know. 

I walked into the Dead Canary, feeling a little queasy at the memory of running in after seeing Prism just the night before.

“Shelby.” Desmond looked as surprised as I felt that I was there. “What can I do for you?”

“Did Truman Hensley get elected?”

“No.”

“No?”

“The Sheriff is running in her brother’s place. You’ll get to vote after all.”

“Good.” 

“And Paul’s doing alright.”

“Paul?” I blinked. “Podcast Paul?”

“You found him last night, with Prism.” He bowed his head gently at her name.

The other body. I had forgotten, in the blur of it all. “Oh. Good. I’m glad he’s not dead.” 

He nodded. “Indeed.”

With a touch of uncertainty, I sat at the bar. “Desmond, what happens if Truman Hensley wins? What happens to this town?”

“I wouldn’t be too worried about that.” He said, but he looked away when he said it.

“I am worried. And I’m not sure why.”

“You feel at home here, and maybe you don’t want that home to change.”

I blinked. “Yes, that’s exactly it. Very astute Desmond.” He couldn’t kill anyone, I thought to myself. Why, because he was being nice to me? Like murderers weren’t nice to people sometimes? I shook my head. “I just can’t get over the feeling that something else is happening here.” 

“You’re starting to sound like those - what did you call them? Podcasters.” He chuckled. “You may just be seein’ things that aren’t there.” 

I sighed and rubbed my face. “Maybe you’re right Desmond. Maybe I’ll just return the book and stop asking why. And just be happy with what I’ve got now.”

“If you keep asking the wrong questions, you’ll keep getting the wrong answers.” 

“The wrong questions?” He didn’t say anything, he just stared at me while cleaning a glass, and I decided it was time to leave. 

The drive to the library felt like it went by faster than normal. I barely saw the scenery as it spilled out before me. It was as if my vision kept being obstructed by big blurry thoughts: being told rather than listened to about Prism’s death, the censorship of werewolf information, Paul being attacked (or exploded? With crystal shards? Which didn’t even make sense?), Desmond’s possible involvement- I didn’t see the car come around the bend and the world went black.

Irony is getting your car fixed only to wake up to smoke coming from the hood. I looked around. I had, very luckily, been pushed to a road shoulder and had crashed into the wall of the hill instead of off of the road to a tree riddled hillside. No one had stopped, so it was a hit and run. An accident. There was a mass of white coming from the steering wheel. The airbag was deployed, and the red on it surprised me. I checked my nose. It was bloody. I almost laughed at the blood on my hands. With wide eyes, I went over my body with soft pats to make sure nothing was broken. I felt okay, albeit shaky. I shuffled around in my glove compartment to get my cell phone. I’d stuck it in there for emergencies such as this one, and waited for it to turn on while my car made unnerving creaking noises. Once it was loaded, I could see clearly there was no signal. I wasn’t close enough to the valley to make it that way, so I decided to walk back to town. 

To say this was a stupid decision was an understatement. The idea of just staying with the car until someone drove by that could help me didn’t even occur to me; I had to move. There was no place to walk on the road. I just clung to the rocky hillside when a car would go by. I was grateful traffic was rather slow, and almost cried when there was a large swatch of road to walk on. By the time I got back to town, the adrenaline had worn off and my whole body felt like someone had punched it. I couldn’t walk home, I decided, I had to just give up at the Dead Canary. It was aptly named. I felt like a freaking Dead Canary.

If Desmond was surprised to see me before, apparently I looked pretty bad this time. 

“What happened to you?”

“Car crash.” I said. And then the world went black, because apparently talking was just too much energy I didn’t have.

I woke up in a strange bed. I jolted up and then shrank back down. “Two for one discount.” I heard from the other side of the room. The drunk lump was erect and I realized he was in a lab coat. I thought I’d heard him referred to as a doctor, which I’d taken as a joke, but with horror I realized Henry actually was a doctor. 

“What?” I asked.

“Desmond got you a room.” I smelled the air as he wobbled closer. “Are you drunk?”

“Hardly.” “Why did you say two for one?” “Paul? Earlier? With the crystals?” “Ah.” “You’ll be fine. Just a broken nose, some bruising probably. I don’t have another lolly pop.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“I’ll be...I’ll be around if you need any more medical attention.” 

Henry left and I was alone in my room. I realized out of nowhere I’d left the book in the car. The car. I groaned and got out of bed. Someone had taken off my shoes, so I put them back on and carefully made my way back to the bar. 

“You’re up quick.” Desmond threw a towel over his shoulder. 

“I left my car-

“Up on the highway, already got it towed.”

“How did you know?”

“Only one way to go really.” 

“True.” I paused as my face throbbed. “Thank you for putting me up.” “No issue.” “How much do I owe you.”

“You stayin’?”

“Probably not.” “How you getting home?”

“Walking.” Even just taking a step now made my body ache and I paused through the pain. “Actually, is it okay if I stay?”

“I’ll charge ya half price.”

I nodded. “Thank you. Can I get some water? And maybe a paper and a pen?”

“What for?”

“I write as a distraction, and I don’t have my notebook or anything with me.” 

“I’ll get that for you. Anything else?” “No.” 

“Just hang tight.”

The sun was setting, and I thought about trying to call someone for a lift home. But the idea of just staying put til tomorrow was too tempting. And something about having been put to bed, and taken care of, was just simultaneously alien and comforting. 

With the paper and pen in my pocket, my glass of water, and some aspirin Henry had fished out of his pocket that I inspected carefully before risking, to my room. I saw a closed door next to mine and wondered who else would be staying there. And then it occurred to me. Of course, Artemis and Paul. The only visitors in this town. I listened in the hallway for a moment, but no sounds were being made. I went into my room and shut the door. 

There was a small mirror and desk set up that I sat down at. My reflection startled me. My hair was tangled, there was bruising around my eyes, and blood still under my nose. Great, I thought. Good thing only Desmond and Henry had seen me. I tried to clean myself up a little bit. There was blood all over my shirt. I took it off, relieved I had been wearing a long sleeve shirt over a short sleeve one. My jeans were also spotted with blood, but that was ignorable. I put the pen and paper down on the desk. My head felt a little too wobbly to write just yet, but having the option made me feel better. I’d have to write about the feeling of a broken nose; I knew that would be useful for my main character. I tried to touch it, but winced which made it hurt worse; like a ball of heat in the middle of my face just aching. 

I went back to the bed when I heard talking from my wall. I tried to ignore the urge to listen in for a while as I heard the voices were low, but I finally couldn’t help it and pressed my ear up to the wall. 

“I’m gunna get a drink.” Said a voice, and footsteps.

And then, “I think I’m a werewolf now.” 

First of all, those were really thin walls, but also, what?

What?

[binnie-huaisang]

Silly Fight (alternative ending)

Genre: angst, fluff(?

Pairing: Chan × reader

Words: 5.4 k

TW: Mental health issues, depression.

Before we start, you should know that this story has two versions (they’re basically the same thing, only the ending changes).

If you wanna read the soft/fluff version of the story, you can look for Silly Fight in my blog, BUT if you wanna read the original ending I was planning with all the suffering and drama, keep reading this.

Note: I'm sorry if there are some spelling or grammar mistakes, or if some expressions just don't make sense. English isn't my first language, but I promise I'm trying my best.

Chan and you started dating a few years ago, of course nobody knew that, except for your friends and his family.

At the beginning of the relationship you were really nervous all the time, always scared to make a bad movement or saying something that could maybe make him uncomfortable. That, and the fact that you didn’t even live in the same country, had you worried every moment of every day. You had always been an overthinker, and this certainly did no better to your condition.

However, things were going great, and it wasn’t too long for the little voices in your head to notice that. It was almost as if Chan and you were meant for eachother. It wasn’t like anything you had experienced before. Your relationship was one of those that you can only find in fairytales, and you knew that it was because both of you were so in love that every thing that could seem as a problem for other people, meant nothing to you.

Even with the distance, you would always be there for eachother. Every time he was getting frustrated over work or you were having a bad time because of college, you  would always be there to give support to the other.

Even if your personalities were very different, you barely fought, and it wasn’t because you weren’t able to see the other’s defects or mistakes, but because you knew that they were part of the person you loved and, in a certain way, you also had fallen for those things.

Yes, both of you were completely different worlds, but somehow, you made it work. Even after taking that big step that was making your relationship official, everything kept being the exact same way. Now, it wasn’t only your loved ones who would always tell you that you were basically soulmates, but also his fans and comrades.

Everything was just perfect, or at least it was until that afternoon…

You were visiting Chan after a few months of not seeing each other and, as usual, he took you to that coffee shop that was near his company building.

He was trying his best to act like everything was okay and that nothing was bothering him, but you knew him more than anyone in the world, and you could tell that something was off.

“Babe, is something bothering you?” you asked while caressing his hand over the table.

He saw the concern behind your eyes and that only made the guilt inside of him grow. He didn’t wanna do it, he knew it would end really bad for both of you, but he knew that if he didn’t tell you, someone else would, and that would be even worse.

“Everything’s alright angel” he lied. “Let’s eat, the food will get cold”, and there it was, that smile, the one that he uses every time something is bothering him but he doesn’t wanna tell you.

“Chan”, you called, making him look up to you. He could hardly look at you in the eye without getting nervous. He knew a fight was coming, and he was doing everything he could to hold it over. He was really trying, but he felt so guilty for being the reason for your concern.

Suddenly, the image of you crying in his bed popped into his mind. It was the first time he ever saw you cry, and no one could put in words how guilty and broken he felt for knowing that he was the reason behind it. Apparently you saw one of those mean comments people make on social media about him and you couldn’t resist it. 

You were the kind of person that never cared about what others said about you, but as soon as someone said something about your loved ones, it was on.

That was one of the hardest days for both of you. You were trying to give comfort words to each other, but it was useless. You could still not understand why would people be so mean towards the best person you’ve ever met, the one who was always there for anyone that needed some help. On the other hand, he would never forgive himself for making you cry. He knew it was because of him, and he was feeling so mad for making the one he loved suffer in that way. You were his whole world, his motivation on the hard days and his celebration partner on the best ones. 

You were everything he could’ve dreamed of, in his eyes you were just perfect, and the fact that he hurt you in some way was something that would never happen again. Or at least that was what he thought.

“Chan? Chan!” Your voice brought him back to reality. “Listen, I don’t know what’s happening, but you know you can tell me everything”.

“Well… Actually, there is something I need to tell you…” He finally said and you nodded. “I was talking with some people from the company the other day and… They asked me to talk to you about some things related to your podcast”.

Chan looked at you, examining every inch of your face, looking for any movement or expression that could let him know what you were thinking, but it was useless. Your expression was completely neutral.

However, in your head things were very different. You weren’t stupid, of course you knew what he was about to say. 

You and your best friend, Santiago, had a podcast where you would talk about random stuff, it could be mental health issues, cartoons, movies, or even political complains, it was basically two friends just talking to each other. This podcast had existed even before you knew Chan and it didn’t seem like there was a problem about it until some people of Chan’s company asked him to tell you that you should stop joking about your mental health online because it gave a “bad image”.

That happened just a couple months ago and you were still mad. Anyone who knew you knew that was your coping mechanism and they had the audacity to ask you to stop doing it. Of course you could just refuse to do it, but you didn’t want any problems, besides, after talking with Santiago, you both agreed that there were some comments that could actually be a trigger to some of your audience, so you ended up agreeing.

“What is it?” Your face could be inexpressive, but your voice revealed all the annoyance you were feeling.Of course, Chan noticed that and it only made him more nervous. He really didn't want to do it, he knew it was unfair, but he had to tell you.

“Well… It’s actually a very stupid thing, you will probably laugh when you hear it because it´s really stupid-”

“Just tell me” you said, cutting off  the babbling of the slightly scared boy that was sitting across from you.

“They say you should stop swearing so much”.

Chan was right, you did laugh, but it wasn’t for the reason he expected. You were so done with them. As much as you always hated the control they had over Chan, you could kind of understand it since he worked for them, but you didn’t, and the fact that they were trying to have control over you and your friend was unacceptable.

“You know what? I’m going to talk with them, I’m fucking done”. You said getting up from your seat. Even when you were keeping your voice in a low tone, some people turned because of the sudden move.

“Babe!” Chan took your wrist in his hand before you could start walking away. He didn’t say anything, but by the look in his eyes, you knew he wanted you to stay there and talk about it, and so you did.

“It’s just that… It’s so stupid!” You said a little more relaxed. 

“I know baby” Chan comforted you by caressing your left cheek.

“I mean, I would consider changing something if it made you uncomfortable, but I shouldn’t have to change because some people that don’t even know me think that I ‘swear’ a lot”.

“Well…” The panic showed on his face as soon as he realized what he had done.“

‘Well’?” You raised a brow. “So you think they’re right’“

“No! Of course not! I’m just saying that maybe you do swear in moments where it’s not completely necessary”. Despite his previous intent of calm you down, he was having some stressful days and he was beginning to feel tired.

“But that’s the way I talk!”

“Well, maybe the way you talk does give a bad image!”

“Oh, because I clearly care so much for my image! Why do you care anyways? You’re not even in the podcast!”

Chan let out a sarcastic laugh. “What did you say before? That you would consider changing something if it made me uncomfortable? Go ahead then, change it! Oh, wait. You won’t, because you are so used to people agreeing with you that whenever someone disagrees you just ignore it!”

You stared at him with a stunned look. Something inside you knew that none of you were thinking straight and that maybe you should stop, but you were so mad at him for agreeing with the people that were trying to control you, that you ignored that little voice.

“First of all, why do you all complain about it so much? Whenever I say a bad word or ‘swear’ or however you wanna call it, I do it in my first language, you don’t even understand what I’m saying so shut the fuck up! And second, it doesn’t even make sense that you are telling me that you are bothered because of my language! I never swear around you because I know that your holy ears bleed everytime someone says ‘fuck’. Why don’t you just tell me that you are so scared of them that you need to be a total jerk to me in order to make them happy?”

“Oh, so now I’m being a jerk? You know what? Maybe I am scared of them, but you are being selfish! You are not even thinking about how this can affect me!”

“Pleeease!” You said with a sarcastic laugh. “You’re no one to talk about it! You were the one who pushed me into revealing our relationship because ‘you didn’t want to hide anything from your fans’“ You mocked. “I wasn’t prepared and you still made me appear in front of a camera! You didn’t care what it would do to me, so don’t talk to me about being selfish!”

You could feel the tears forming in the corner of your eyes. You always tried to ignore the bad comments since they were minimum, but sometimes you couldn’t help being affected by them, especially when you were already having bad times.

“You know I’m sorry for that”. Chan said recovering from the sudden anger. He knew that he made a mistake by throwing you to the world like that and there wasn’t a day he didn’t regret it. 

“Well, that doesn’t make the death threats disappear”. As much as you tried to hold them, you felt the tears finally scape.

Chan was speechless, he wanted to say something, to hug you and say sorry for everything, but he couldn’t move. He was just there, sitting while he watched you fall apart. And the worst part was yet to come…

“I- I don’t care about this. I don’t care about those stupid coments and I wouldn’t care about  what your stupid bosses tell you if it wasn’t beacuse it’s always me who has to do or change something” Your voice was barely a whisper, but Chan could hear every single word. “My grades have been getting down, you know?” A sad smile painted your face. “I’ve been feeling bad for months and I cannot pay attention to my lessons. To be honest, I don’t even know if I like my career anymore, but I can’t quit, I don’t want to. I keep telling to myself ‘maybe it’s not the career, it’s just my depression, I’ll be fine in a few days’, but I’m not fine and I’ve been wanting to look for help but therapy is fucking expensive”.

Chan was looking at you completely devastated. He never knew you were feeling bad. Of course he knew about your depression, but you once told him that you’ve been feeling alright for more than a year now. How stupid he was for not noticing. He wanted to ask you why you didn’t say anything, why would you hide such important things, but, once again, he didn’t.

“The money I earn… I use everything to come here to see you because you are not allowed to visit me” You said in a more bitter tone than you intended. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not blaming you, I know this is your job but… It can be a little exhausting to be the one who always has to adapt, to be the strong one. I never say anything because I love you so much and I know I should support you because the path you chose is already hard enough but… I’m just… tired. I’m tired of everything”.

You didn’t even have time to react when your boyfriend got up from his seat and walked around the table to kneel in front of you and wrap his arms tightly around your waist. The initial shock fading as you heard his muffled crying on your chest. You were trying to comfort him by caressing his hair, but it was useless. After a few minutes, when both of you felt that the sobs of the other were fading, Chan finally looked up at you, sending a wave of guilt through your body as you saw his still teary eyes. 

Before you could say anything, he gave you a soft and long kiss on the forehead. The kiss was so full of love and emotions that it made you tear once again.

“I’m so sorry” He said with a raspy voice. “I’m such an asshole for not noticing. You’re always there for me and I just-”

“Shhh” You interrupted by caressing his cheek. “None of this is your fault. I shouldn’t have brought up the subject, this wasn’t the time to do it”.

“Hey, don’t say that!” Chan said as he lifted your chin to meet his eyes. “You’re right, I guess I’m taking more than what I’m giving, but this stops now. I will talk with my manager to see if he can fix something, and as for your therapy… I will pay for it”.

“Of course not!” You said with wide eyes. “I’m the one who has to handle this, I’ll find the way”.

“Angel, you don’t have to go through this by yourself, you have me now and I will not leave you alone… Not again”.

And with that said, he held you in his arms once again pulling you as closer as he could as if he feared you’d disappear at any moment. After a few seconds, you heard your boyfriend’s muffled voice again.

“Don’t say that again”.

“What?”

“That you are tired of everything, don’t say that. If you say that you’re tired of me, that you’re tired of college… I can take it, but please don’t say you’re tired of everything”. His words made you suddenly go pale. You didn't expect him to understand the meaning of your words, but he did. Even if you never told him the full story because you were so scared of him dismissing the matter, he knew you were struggling with something ever since you were a child. In fact, he knew more than you tought. 

As far as you knew, he was always very busy to listen to your podcast, but that was only partially true, since he did use to listen to some of the chapters. One of them was the one where you and Santiago were talking about the importance of mental health and how people should always ask for help if they feel like there’s something that’s not working as it should. In that chapter you talked a little bit about your experience with depression and you mentioned… Something. Something that you almost did in middle school. Of course, Santiago didn’t seem surprised, since he already knew about it and he only reassured you that you weren’t alone anymore, but for Chan, knowing about that situation really shocked him. Of course he never told you anything since he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but ever since he found out about this… Situation, he would find himself thinking about it in the most unexpected moments of the day. 

After thinking about what would be the best answer to the sudden request, you decided that a simple nod would be the only thing that wouldn’t make you burst into tears again, so that’s what you did.

“I still don’t want you to pay for my therapy tho” You said with a tired smile after your boyfriend had broken the hug just to start playing with your hands.

“We’ll talk about it later, angel” He said, smiling back at you, but this time it wasn’t a sarcastic or a nervous smile, it was a real one. “Now, why don’t we go back to the apartment? I will cook something delicious for you”.

-----

You thought it was kind of ridiculous for you to go back and eat something home prepared when you already had a table full of food in front of you, but you were already too tired to complain, so you just smiled and nodded towards the also tired boy.

He smiled again and before you knew, you were being practically dragged across the coffee shop towards the entrance. “Do you think anyone noticed?” he asked once you were walking down the street.

“Hmm… I don’t think so, we were really discreet”. Your voice was tired, but Chan could tell that you were joking.

“Well, I hope so. I wouldn’t like my ‘bad boy’ image to be ruined, you know?”

“Don’t worry about that, I’m pretty sure your reputation is safe” A little smile painted your lips as you felt his arm around your waist.

Even if most of the things that took place after the break up are still a little blurry in your mind, you can remember every single detail of the morning after the fight. Chan was lying besides you, eyes still closed and soft snores coming out of him. For a moment, the thought of waking him up passed by your mind, but you ended up deciding that the best thing would be letting him sleep a little more.

You couldn’t even take two steps out of the room, when you saw a group of people in the living room. You didn’t really care at first, since two of the faces that your sleepy brain could recognize belonged to Changbin and Minho. However, a shiver went down your spine as soon as you realized that the other people in the room were Chan’s manager and three men that you had never seen in your life before.

“Ummm… Good morning”. You said, giving Changbin a concerned look.

“Is Chan already up?” One of the unfamiliar men asked.

“N- No. He’s still sleeping. Is everything alright?”

“_____, something happened”. Minho’s voice made you look away from the man that talked to you before.

“I’ll go bring Chan” Said the manager, but before he could start walking, Changbin’s voice stopped him.

“No. We should let him rest, he will need it”.

“Bin, what happened?”

Knowing that Changbin was the closest member to you, besides your boyfriend, their manager gave him an approval look, signaling that he could talk.

“Well, there’s something that’s been spreading on the internet the last hours and… It’s not a good thing”.

You hadn’t noticed the phone on your friend’s hand until he pressed the play button of what seemed to be an audio, a very long one by the way.

At first, you couldn’t understand anything due to the background noise, but soon, you recognized Chan’s voice and then your own. Your voices weren’t that loud, but it was enough to understand every single word. 

It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. Of course you were mad, but what happened before was just a silly fight and you would eventually figure it out. Or at least that’s the way it should’ve been, if it wasn’t because your “silly fight” was recorded and uploaded to the internet by someone the day after.

You were so busy trying to hold the tears forming in your eyes that you didn’t even notice the firm grip of your boyfriend’s hand on your shoulder. After a few minutes, the audio suddenly stopped. 

“Wh- Where’s the rest?” You asked, visibly confused.

“That’s all”.

“N- No!” You could feel the panic slowly taking over you. It has to be more. The audio had been cut just after you said that you were tired of everything. The crying, the apologies, the laughs… They were all gone. 

Of course you knew that even if they would’ve left the last part, people would still be throwing hate towards you and your boyfriend, but maybe, just MAYBE, it could’ve made things a little bit easier. However, that wasn’t the case. It was pretty obvious that the person who uploaded this wanted to make it seem like Chan didn’t care about what you were feeling at that moment and, by the few comments you could read before Minho took away the phone, it worked.

“What are we gonna do now?” Chan asked in a voice that denoted confidence. Even though he knew much better than you the things that were about to come, he still managed to keep himself together. 

“People have been leaving hate comments towards you and the company since this audio appeared. At first, we thought that it would be best if you made a live today so you could clarify everything”. Both of you nodded. “But since this… Issue doesn’t seem to calm down, we agreed that it would be better to wait a couple days before saying anything”.

“What about me?” You asked with watery eyes. “Can I say something before the live?” The guilt was eating you alive. You knew all of this was your fault and if there was something that you could do to help, you would do it.

The manager and one of the strangers exchanged a quick glance and then proceeded to tell you what they had planned.

“We don’t want people to think that we are silencing you, so maybe you should post something, but try not to reveal the details, you and Chan will be able to do it later”.

You were about to nod in agreement when you felt Chan positioning your body behind his own. “Wait, _____ is not going to make any statement on camera”.

“Chan-” The manager tried to say something to convince him, but he was not listening to anything of that.

“No! I’m not gonna ask her to expose herself like that again!”

“Hyung, she needs to do it”. Minho knew that the possibilities of Chan listening to him at that moment were minimum, but he still had to try. “She’s the other part involved, it will be weird if she doesn’t say anything and it will be worse for you if you appear on that screen by yourself”.

Chan didn’t say anything this time, but it was very obvious that he hadn’t changed his mind. Finally, the manager left out a sigh of resignation.

“Whatever, we’ll talk about it later. For now, the only thing we can do is stay quiet and wait for this to calm down”.

But things never calmed down, not even after you posted that tweet where you tried to explain that the audio didn’t show the whole situation. The live you and Chan made days after that was also useless. You talked about every single one of the issues that you mentioned in the audio and you tried to explain how they weren’t Chan’s fault, but once again, it was useless. People were mad at your boyfriend and his company, and there was no power on earth that could make them listen.

However, things started to change when more audios of conversations between both of you started being uploaded. At first, it was just a little rumor that a couple of people would talk about, but after two months of weekly audios, the posts of people saying that the whole situation was planned for you to affect the company’s image overshadowed the previous ones. 

Now, everyone was demanding Chan to break up with you so you could stop interfering with his career. Of course Chan refused to do it, but after a lot of warnings from his company and a long talk with you where you practically begged him to stop fighting, he finally gave up.

He didn’t want to do it. You were the best thing he could ever dream of, you were his entire universe, his best friend, his soulmate… But you were even more stubborn than him, and you wouldn’t accept a “no” as an answer.

“Listen” you said as you held his swollen face in your shaky hands. “I love you so much. You’re the best thing that could’ve happened to me and I will always be grateful for having the opportunity of having you in my life at least for a while”.

You weren’t even sure if he could understand what you were saying after hours of crying, but you had to keep going, everything had to stop right then and there. “And it’s because I love you, that I could never ask you to choose between your dream and me”. 

“STOP!” Chan thought that he was yelling, but in reality, the only thing that came out of his mouth was a shaky whine. “We can pull this off! We can fix this!”

“No, Christopher! We can’t!” The pain in his eyes was evident, but you couldn’t keep seeing how everything he had ever worked for was thrown out the window.

“This is your dream job” Your throat was tired, and the only thing you wanted to do was take a shower and go back to sleep in your boyfriend’s arms, but that wasn’t an option anymore. “You’ve risked a lot of things for coming this far, you can’t quit now”. Your whispers seemed to calm him a little bit. “I won’t let you do it”.

A couple days after breaking up, his company made a statement making it public and you also made a post about the situation. You can’t remember the details, all you can remember is Chan begging you to stay and his manager explaining that you had already been months in Korea and you had to go back home.  What happened after that is still fuzzy.

The first days in your country were really hard, all you wanted to do was lying in bed while crying yourself to sleep. However, time heals everything, and after a few weeks you started recovering. Of course you were still sad, but at least you knew that the breakup was worth it since the hate comments towards Chan and the group practically disappeared. 

Your relationship with Chan was something that you still couldn’t figure out. You had agreed to keep your distance and not send messages to each other for a while so both of you could heal and try to put your lives together, but you knew it wasn’t how things worked, at least not for you.

It had been a little more than a year since the first audio was uploaded and things were going great. You and Chan had recovered the control of your lives and, while you still had some trouble being just friends, you were really trying.

It’s been months since you didn’t listen to any of the audios spread on the internet, they only hurted you, besides, there was nothing outstanding about them, they were just normal conversations between a couple… Complains about work, complains about college, silly anecdotes of the day you almost died because you didn’t know how to make a sandwich… 

Yes, you had been dealing with this in the best way possible, until a few hours ago when you received a text from your best friend.

Santiago: Duuuude!!!

You: Good morning(? 

Santiago: Did you listen to the new audio?

You: Baby, you know I don’t listen to them anymore, and to be honest, I don’t know if I’m okay with you listening to them…

Santiago: I know, I’m sorry

Santiago: I promise that I never listen to them

Santiago: But apparently this one really caught people’s attention and I wanted to know what it was about

You: So…

You: What is it?

Santiago: Maybe you should listen to it for yourself…

A few seconds passed and you received another message from your friend. It was a link to a post that was made just an hour ago. You really didn’t want to listen to it, but Santiago was right, it seemed like it was catching people’s attention.

You pushed the play button and you could feel yourself going pale as soon as you heard his voice, that voice that you hadn’t heard in so long. The conversation went on and, besides the initial feeling that caused listening to your ex-boyfriend’s voice, everything was pretty normal. It wasn’t until you heard that sentence, that you suddenly remembered what you were talking about that day. “Oh, shut up, we’re gonna get married someday” Said the Chan from the past after you told him how silly he was. “Yeah, sure!” You answered sarcastically. “Why would I want to get married to someone that doesn’t even know how to set up a curtain properly?” “Becaaause you love me” He answered with a cheesy voice. “Well…” “’Well’? Are you telling me you don’t love me anymore?” You couldn’t help a little smile as soon as you heard his fake crying. “Don’t be silly! You know I will always love you” Now, you were the one using a cheesy voice. After a few giggles of both of you, Chan talked again, this time with a more serious tone of voice. “Baby… Would you actually marry me?” “Chan, I-” “I know you don’t want to get married to anyone but, let’s suppose that you do want to get married someday… Would you marry me then?” You could feel a knot in your throat as soon as you heard those words. You would’ve fallen in that moment, if you weren’t holding yourself on the nightstand. “Channie, you’re the love of my life! Of course I would!”

That was it, you didn’t want to hear anything else. As soon as those words reached your ears, you threw your phone across the room with such a strength that it nearly crushes on the wall. You didn’t know how, but suddenly, you found yourself crying on the floor of your room, completely devastated. It wasn’t even because of what the audio said, but because a few months after that conversation happened, you and Chan had talked about the subject again and this time you said that you did want to get married only if it was with him.

Your sobs only intensified when you looked up to your left hand and you saw that pretty ring with a little amethyst on top. No, it wasn’t an engagement ring, but it was a promise ring. When Chan gave it to you, he said it was a symbol of your love and that it also represented his promise of giving you a real engagement ring as soon as you finished your career. 

You were too busy crying to hear the constant ringing of your phone, and even if you would’ve heard it, you wouldn’t pick up. Why would you? It was useless anyway. Nothing that anyone said could fix what happened. Your dreams together, your future… It was already gone and nothing, not even Chan could change that.

Channie: _____… Channie: Please… Channie: Baby, are you okay? Channie: Please answer Channie: I know you are there  Channie: Angel… Channie: I’m sorry for all of this Channie: Can we talk? Channie: Please… Channie: I need you Channie: I’m sorry…

Note: I think this came a little stronger than I intended, so sorry about that. 

©  binnie-huaisang 2021 All rights reserved. Translating or reposting is not allowed.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Starcrossed Losers XIX (Josh Wheeler xReader)

A/N: I don’t like angst, yet it’s the only thing I’m able to add at my stories. Also, the vamps are teen-band certified. They had to be in the soundtrack of Josh’ life cause they’re as dramatic and passionate as him. I don’t exactly mean that as a compliment. We’re getting close to the end!

Words: 2,677

Warnings: None!

Previous chapter // Last chapter

I had no way to introduce the song smoothly into the plot so I’ll just attach it here.

It’s four in the morning and the three of us are in my old room. You could say I’m miserable.

This place is even more depressing than I remembered, seriously, why there are so many pictures in my room? What was I trying to prove, that I know how to use a camera? 

Every single picture with Maya in it I took it down, even if this isn’t my room anymore, I don’t want this to remain untouched like it’s worth preserving.

I’m still awake cause I hadn’t finished Wesley’s podcast, and god I wish I hadn’t heard the end.

It got me thinking, everything is out of control right now. One moment we could be sleeping and a second bomb could drop, then none of us would know what happened.

I have been living on wasted opportunities, on ‘what ifs’ and shitty friendships cause I don’t think I’m worth it. Maybe I’m not, but the kids back at the mall are, they are this city’s future, even if that sounds crazy right now. 

I decided I’ll help them, which means I’ll have to help Eli.

I have no choice.

_______________________________

Josh knew he’d fucked up big time.

When he came back after talking to Mavis, he knew that things needed to change, he was pushing people away, it was calculated at first, but now it was out of control and he had lost the only person he wanted to keep around.

It was his fault. There was no way to excuse his behavior, Y/N only wanted to keep him safe, she cared about everyone, something Josh was too self-centered to accomplish.

He regretted every word he’d ever said, to Sam and Y/N. They were good to him, trusted him. Fuck, Sam trusted him enough to sleep with him even if she knew it was his first time. 

Y/N had followed him to a mall where a psychotic killer was threatening to kill them just cause he asked for help... one thing seemed bigger than the other, but priorities shifted dramatically once the world ended, to be fair.

So when he entered the pharmacy only to find the lonely notebook laying on top of the counter, he panicked. Y/N was gone, and now he didn’t have a way to know where she was.

Unless...

Right, it was around 7pm and he had a target painted on his back, but she was worth it, more importantly, she was right.

He was going to fix his own fuck-ups, but first, he had to find Y/N.

So at 9pm, he left the mall.

He went on his skateboard, though it was loud during the night, it was also quieter than cars. He stopped at a store and took several spray cans of bright green paint, ready to start looking.

The question was, where?

Maybe Alex’s house? But he didn’t know where he lived. A house didn’t sound right, she would’ve been more careful than that, Y/N was super smart, so she’d have to be on a safe place that’s also out of any tribe’s territory.

The problem was that most of those areas were difficult to live in, they’re infested with Ghoullies or mutant things. Josh thought carefully, for Y/N, the worst choice wasn’t a Ghoullie-infested area, at least they wouldn’t be smart enough to catch her. She had to make a choice.

Josh started looking in the infested areas.

He wasn’t expecting to just find her and watch as she ran into his arms. Y/N was sick of him, she would be pissed for sure, so he was ready to get extra-roasted. 

He didn’t worry about that, what worried him, was Y/N not wanting to have anything to do with him anymore.

He’d thought things through and he knew (even before Y/N had said it) that Sam would reject him after all those months apart, he was okay with that. Sam had every right to say no.

Did it upset him a bit considering he had lost a finger for her? Yeah, but that was just life being shitty. Like Y/N said, you can always learn from your mistakes.

It’d clearly gone over Josh’s head the first time, but now it was stuck on his mind.

“I'm sorry for the way I behaved And I'm sorry that I let you down again I probably threw it at you I know Yeah I worry you didn't like me anymore”

Actually, it was Y/N L/N who was stuck in his mind in general.

The crazy things she could do, the silly short-overalls that she insisted on wearing were a nightmare, but Josh was now in love with them for the simple reason that they were hers.

He knew he overreacted when Y/N told him Sam was a jock, but it was just that the idea seemed impossible, Sam was too chill for that, she had to be against her will.

So he figured since he couldn’t fix what he had done to her months ago, the least he could do was to save her from Turbo. Afterwards they would be even, and Y/N and Josh would be finally free from any unfinished business.

He would be free to be with her without feeling guilty.

It was around 1am and his hand was starting to hurt from painting the walls on every block. He was also wasting time, what if Y/N had left the city already?

No, he needed to calm down. Y/N didn’t want to leave the city, that’s what she told him before. She was definitely here.

Where the hell was she?

“Alright, ponder,” Josh rested a hand on his knee, closing his eyes for a moment, “fuck, I need sleep...”

She wasn’t around the Ghoulie area, so the next stop was the X-Pug district. There was something about that place that could help him: Y/N’s house was in it and he still remembered how to get there. He hoped he was right.

By 4am his legs were sort of giving up, Josh forced himself to continue, he had about two more streets before he would reach her house and then maybe, if she wasn’t there, he could rest a couple hours and keep searching the next day.

There was obviously no lights on, so he whisper-yelled.

“Y/N?” He looked around to make sure he was threat-free, “Y/N?”

Josh wasn’t religious, but he felt the touch of god on his chest when a pair of shiny eyes peered over the second-floor window.

_____________________________________

Well, look what the bitch-wind brought to my humble home.

“Josh?” I frown, getting up from my desk chair, “What the fuck are you doing outside my house?”

“I had an epiphany”

“You had an- have you slept at all?”

“No, but I’m not crazy!” He tilts his head, “Well I did see my dad for a moment, but I think I imagined that...”

“Leave,” I say simply, “I don’t want to talk to you, I’m done.”

“I know you are”

“I won’t help you save Sam”

“I wasn’t going to ask you that.”

“What do you want?” I hiss.

“Can you... come down for a moment?”

I’m tired, but my heart is also hammering against my chest. 

He came for me, he’s here for me.

I hope I’m not wrong.

“Hold on,” I reply with a neutral expression.

_____________________________

At last, he had found his savior. 

Y/N appeared at her doorstep with her arms crossed, glaring at Josh.

“So?”

“Uh, yes?” His hands were sweating profusely.

“What do you have to say to defend yourself?”

“I'm sorry that I pushed you away And I'm sorry, I couldn't give you everything And I need you just to try to understand I let you take from me it all, it's just I feel like half a man”

“I...” Josh gulped, giving one step forward, “my brain is the size of a bean”

Y/N’s frown deepened.

“Okay?”

“I have tons of issues. We said it was nice to be around each other cause we understood, we knew,” He explained slowly so the words wouldn’t get all mixed in his head, “But after a few days I watched as you evolved into this super cool version of yourself: you had this new outfit and a new identity on which you were comfortable. You got over your problems and everything just seemed to be... going so well for you.”

“So it’s my fault?” Y/N scoffed.

“No!” Josh was quick to respond, “What I’m saying is that we promised to fix our stuff, and we were supposed to find out together. I fucked up. I let you do the whole work while you fixed your own issues and I stood there on big denial, focusing on other things.”

Josh stepped closer to her, Y/N remained still.

“I know I put everything on your shoulders and let you do the work, that was such a huge dick move I can’t even pretend to have a reason for that, I just need you to know that I’m sorry. I regret all the things I said. It’s all a lie, you do know me. You know me and it scared the crap out of me. When you said Sam could be a jock my mind knew you had a good point, but I got scared”

“I’ve been scared too,” She replied harshly, “I was terrified to stay around, I was shitting my pants just thinking of what could go wrong if I decided to give in to what I really wanted.”

She looked up to the sky, maybe trying to find an answer.

“This won’t work, Josh. Not if we keep pushing each other away in our own little ways, you with your words and me... doing it literally.”

“Then... now what?”

“And now I found That I've tried, tried my best just to keep you around But the weight of the world keep on dragging me down”

“Now nothing,” Y/N’s eyes avoided his, “do your thing and I’ll do mine. Fix your issues, then maybe we’ll have a chance. You have to make up your mind, Josh. Where is your heart?”

He knew the answer to that, but it wasn’t much of a difference if Y/N didn’t know. He could live all his life like this and still not be with her because she doesn’t have a way of knowing.

How could he tell her without actually tell her, now that his words lacked truth in her eyes?

He was still thinking about it when Y/N spoke up again.

“Did you know that Triumph dethroned Turbo?”

It took him a moment to understand what she’d said.

“What?”

“We saw it this afternoon,” Y/N shook her head, “we don’t know how did he escape, but now he’s the tribe’s leader. Your wishes became reality, Sam is truly in danger”

He didn’t like the way her voice sounded in the last part, but that wasn’t important at the moment.

“You know what he’s planning to do?”

“We don’t,” Y/N shrugged, “nothing good for sure... Eli found us there, he wanted to convince me to go back and kick you out of the mall, he’ll be pleased to see you’re already out.”

Josh looked over to the window on the second floor.

“Is he in there with you?”

“Yes, so is Alex,” She stayed silent for a second, Josh saw a question forming on face, “How did you find me?”

He smiled for the first time in the day.

“The day we made our group project I took you home in my mom’s car, remember?”

“I didn’t think you’d remember,” Y/N replied honestly, “it’s been a while”

“My bean-brain can hold any information as long as it has to do with you.”

He thought he saw a glimpse of her smile for a second, it didn’t last enough.

“It’s late, you should come in and rest”

“I’m fine”

“You haven’t slept, I know,” Y/N stepped aside so he could get in, “I can see the dark circles under your stupid puppy-eyes.”

“Was that a compliment?” He teased lightly.

“Get your ass in before I feed you to the mutant pug,” She waited until he was fully seated in the living room, “for the record, I’m still upset. This does not mean you’re forgiven, and it definitely doesn’t mean I want to keep our... thing, going on, you got it?”

“I got it”

“Goodnight,” She replied, going upstairs.

“Y/N?” She looked down to where Josh was, he hadn’t moved to lay on the couch, “I promise I’ll make things right”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Let’s see how it turns out.”

_______________________________

It’s morning time!

Well, it’s ‘acceptable-hour-of-the-morning-to-be-up’ time.

I wake up in my own bed, I see Alex sleeping beside me and it’s almost like we went back in time to those good days when we had sleepovers. However, we know that’s not true.

I sit on my bed and realized there’s something missing: Eli.

Thinking that maybe he woke up before us and found Josh sleeping in my living room, I get up quickly, afraid that he might have cut his throat while he was still sleeping.

I accidentally kick Alex on my way out, he wakes up in confusion, asking me if my mom’s making breakfast.

“I sure hope not,” I reply with irony, “cause she’s been dead for half a year”

“What?” He opens his eyes and looks around, suddenly coming back to the present, “Sorry, I was dreaming with-”

“The past?” I ask while I put on my converse, “I figured you were.”

“Where are you going?” He sits.

I explain to him briefly what happened last night while they were sleeping and how I’m about to check if Eli hasn’t killed Josh. Alex decides to join me and while we walk downstairs I see his little smirk.

“Don’t you dare,” I warn him, “I know what you’re thinking”

“And what am I thinking?”

“I told you so,” I huff, “like you’re some kind of wise Dr. Love”

“You know I’m right”

“He came for me, big fucking deal. He also spent six months looking for Sam, he does these things all the time, it doesn’t mean he cares”

“They not here,” Alex stops in the living room, “and there’s no blood, so we can assume they didn’t kill each other.”

I walk into the kitchen and my eyes land on the fridge, they left a note stick to it with a magnet.

“Alex?” I say, “There’s a note...”

I grab it and read it, not waiting for my friend’s reply.

‘Y/N,

Eli found me downstairs and tried to kill me. It’s alright, I told him you let me in. He was upset, he has reasons, I kicked him out of his home.

I told you I’m going to fix things, so I convinced Eli to help me get to the school safely so we can put Triumph back in a cage and the jocks (yes, Sam too) can have a better life, not one as slaves of a cannibal adult. He is also willing to let the kids stay and share the mall with him, along with Wesley, Angelica, and Ms Crumble if they decide to return. In exchange, I promised that I won’t.

Last night you asked me about where my heart is, I hope that once you leave the house, you get the answer. 

I don’t have the best taste in music according to the witch, so I can’t leave you secret messages hidden inside lyrics like you did for me on our Homecoming do-over. Still, I hope the message is readable, cause otherwise, I forced Eli to help me on a useless mission.

DON’T try to find us, we have it under control.

-Josh.’

“Y/N?” Alex calls me from the front door, “come see this...”

I put the note in my pocket and follow his voice.

“What’s...” I walk out of the house and gasp, “fucking bastard.”

In front of us, bright-green letters spell the phrase:

“IT’S WITH YOU”

It’s painted on every entrance, on the asphalt is he wrote the biggest one, his handwriting unmistakable. 

That sure answers my question.

“You know what that means?” Alex stands next to me.

"Yes," I say breathlessly, "it means we have to help Eli and Josh stop Triumph."

“Are we saving the world?” He smirks.

“We’re saving the world.”

Taglist.

@letsbloodmagic @slythermyg @loving-u-3000​

[realityhelixcreates]

Prosopagnosia

Chapters: 42/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: None Relationships: Loki x Reader (Someday) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor(Marvel), Brunnhilde/Valkyrie(Marvel) Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Ah Massage, The Universally Acknowledged Flirtation Device, Oh And Sorry About Your Face Summary:  You awaken fully to a very unpleasant truth, and spend some quality time with Loki

You awoke alone, your eyelids sticking together until you forcibly pried them open. It was painful; the crust of sleep had accumulated over however long you'd been asleep, even though the swelling had gone down quite a bit. Your head still hurt, and you felt stiff and filthy.

You had no idea how long you had been sleeping, but you probably didn't smell too good, considering you hadn't brushed your teeth or bathed in however long you had been there. There was only so much sponge baths could do, after all. It was probably why there was still so much perfume in the room.

You squinted against the soft golden glow that surrounded you, until your eyes got used to the light. You noticed that you were alone; Loki wasn't there. No one was there.

You also noticed that you were surrounded by flowers, the tall, wild lupines that grew out in the countryside. Every surface in the room was covered in great bunches of them, their soft colors muted even further in the shimmering golden light.

Perhaps you were dreaming again?

Your throbbing head still felt cushioned in cotton, and your body was still hot. Whatever machine Bjarkhild had focused on you, it seemed to still be working. You definitely couldn't get up; you could barely move.

How irritating. Your life had become far too eventful lately. If you were back home, you would probably be frosting cupcakes right now. That sounded nice and peaceful. You could remember vividly, the sugar scent of the icing, the crinkling sound of the packaging. You would drive home from work in your barely functional car, which had probably been sold or towed by now, probably have a sandwich for dinner, maybe a very simple casserole, and listen to some podcasts while making up a small batch of dough for the next days meals. It would be peaceful. Uneventful. Comfortable.

But you couldn't do magic at home. There was no one to teach you about far-away worlds, no friendly aliens to learn about. No handsome prince to hold your hand and get you into so much trouble.

Where was Loki? You'd had a silly thought that he would stay with you the entire time, but of course he had work to do. There was a whole kingdom to run, so he couldn't be by your side every waking moment. Still, you'd sort of hoped. You really shouldn't miss him, after all, you had only just woken back up. It wasn't like he'd been gone a long time.

Had he sent the flowers? The colors brought a flash of memory of the mushrooms of Jotunheim. Had that been real? Another dream? You had gone to sleep in the snow, and woken up here, but, like the dream of Titan, it was very hard to tell how much of it had actually happened. It made you uneasy though, and not just because of what you had seen. There was something important about it that Loki didn't want you to know. His explanations for his hatred of Jotunheim didn't always add up.

Maybe it didn't matter. Jotunheim was far, far away, unreachable. They couldn't hurt you, and they couldn't hurt Loki. They probably didn't even dwell on it.

You were starting to feel hungry now. Whatever machine you had been hooked up to that sustained you, must have been turned down. Maybe that's why you were waking up now.

“Hello?” You called, wincing. Oh that hurt. Wincing hurt too. “Is there anyone there?”

The door opened just a few moments later, flooding the room with much brighter light. You winced again. It still hurt.

The junior healer stepped in, shutting the door behind her. What was her name again? Ulfrunn.

“You are awake.” She said stiffly. “Do you hurt?”

“Yes.” You said quietly, trying to cause yourself as little pain as possible.

“Your head, yes? Anywhere else?”

“I'm stiff, but no more than that.”

“Can you move your hands and feet?”

You wiggled all your extremities. “Sure can.”

“This is good. You cannot leave yet. But we can begin to wean you off the machines now. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“Yes.”

“Good, that is a good sign.” She fiddled with some of the machines, and the golden glow dimmed considerably, appearing as nothing more than the occasional arch of glitter over your head. “I will notify his Highness.”

“You don't have to trouble him if he's busy.” You said, but the healer scoffed.

“No business will keep him from here. Just wait, there will be food and drink coming soon.”

She left then, letting you recover from the discomfort of speaking. You still couldn't tell if she disliked you or not, but as long as she did her job right, it didn't matter, did it?

Ulfrunn's prediction was spot-on: Loki hustled through the door minutes later, some books and a big bowl of food in his arms.

“You're awake!” He exclaimed in delight. “I've been told you need food, so I have brought some.”

He made room on the closest countertop to set the bowl and books down, then loomed over you, close to your face. “Let me get a look at you, The bruising was bad the last time.”

You saw the tiniest change in his expression as he took in your face, a tiny flash of shock which he buried almost instantly. Almost.

“What?” You whispered. “What is it? What's wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He said quickly. “The bruises and swelling are nearly gone.”

“Loki, what's wrong with my face?”

“Nothing!” He insisted. “You're still beautiful.”

“What? Since when?” Your heart was pounding now, both because Loki had called you, a human, beautiful, but also because of the shady way he was acting about your face. “Why did you say that? What's wrong with my face, Loki? Is there a mirror here? Give me a mirror!”

His lips pressed tightly together, eyebrows raised in an expression of innocence and regret, as he passed you a small hand mirror. You were almost too afraid to look. Your blood pounding made your head throb as you raised the mirror to your eyes.

The face that stared back was bruised, but not too badly, not as badly as it must have been only a day ago. That wasn't the problem, that wasn't what had made Loki act the way he did. It was that you didn't quite recognize this face as your own.

Your cheek was shaped differently now, no longer even with the other, and it changed the overall shape of your face. You looked different now.

“What...happened...” You gasped, the throbbing in your head reaching a fever pitch.

“The lady healer told me that your zygomatic arch-that is, your cheekbone-was crushed...either when you were struck or when you hit the floor. They had to rebuild it...but the swelling must have gotten in the way. Asgardian flesh doesn't swell as much..._____, I...”

Your eyes stung. You'd never really been all that vain, but your face had changed...your identity. Would Tara recognize you? Would your father? You sniffled. Your head hurt so much.

“Oh no.” Loki mumbled. “No, no, no, no, don't-” He grabbed your hand, twining your fingers together with his. “Don't-we won't give up! We'll keep working on it until everything is back to the way it was. Everything will be fine!”

“How? If the bones have already healed, they'd have to be broken again.”

“Not here! This isn't Midgardian medicine, we can program our healing machines to recognize the difference, and heal it. It will be slow, you'll have to come back here for a little while every day, but we can do it! Don't worry, don't worry, it will be all right!”

“Loki...you don't know that for sure, do you?”

“...I don't. I works that way for us. But that just means our healing technology is that much more powerful! It should work for you!”

Tears squeezed out of your eyes, and Loki immediately wiped them away.

“I don't know how to feel right now.” You whispered. “How much of my identity am I going to lose?”

Loki laid his head down in the crook of your neck, arms on either side of your shoulders, still holding your hand. It was probably the best approximation of a hug that he could give you right now. He was wonderfully warm and comforting; it was a shame you couldn't fully appreciate it. You closed your eyes. The gentle weight he allowed to rest on you was helping to calm you down, as well as the familiar scent of him, the leather, the oakmoss, the light citrus resin of spruce.

What were you going to do now? Asgard was a warrior culture, did they value scars like this? You hadn't seen anyone with scars, but you hadn't met all of Asgard yet. Maybe they healed so fast and so thoroughly that they didn't get scars? Or maybe their healing technology prevented them from forming?

Thor was missing an eye, but it wasn't obvious when he had his prosthetic in. Maybe only pathetic mortals could get scars, or suffer permanent injuries. Maybe even the miraculous Asgardian medical technology couldn't even help someone so weak as you.

“I'm going to kill him.” Loki muttered. “I already cut off his hand, but I'm actually going to go back and completely kill him.”

“What?”

“I challenged Alarr to a duel for what he did to you. I removed his sword hand. You're safe from him now, he won't hurt you anymore. If he knows what is good for him, he won't even look directly at you again.”

“...How's Andsvarr?”

He squeezed your hand. “Stressed. But he's made his decision on where he stands. He has brought you a gift, but it needs repair before you can make use of it. He would stay beside you, even should the hordes of Hel be bearing down on him.”

“He's a good kid.”

“He is.” Loki agreed, raising his head to gaze softly down at you. His hair framed your face, tickling slightly. “You're still beautiful.”

“You don't have to say that just because I was crying.”

He frowned slightly, pulling away and sitting down close to your bed. “Ulfrunn told me you were hungry. Do you think you are up to eating?”

“Yeah.” Now that he reminded you, yes, you were very hungry. “What did you bring?”

He held out the bowl for you to see. It was filled with small bits of fruit, cubes of cheese, slices of sausage and pieces of the brown bread that you liked so much. “It looks very tasty.” You said. Loki carefully adjusted your bed so that you were sitting up, and began feeding you little morsels with his bare fingers. It wasn't as embarrassing as you thought it would be; the warmth that spread through your face had more to do with how much comfort you were finding in the intimacy of the situation.

They weren't going to be able to fix your face. Loki had been lying, saying whatever he could think of to calm you. They were only empty promises though, you just knew it. There was nothing that could be done now. You were still beautiful, huh? What had possessed him to say that, besides that he was panicking? You weren't beautiful, you were normal. Average. Well, you weren't even average now, you were lopsided. But he was still feeding you so carefully, and watching you with that soft expression.

You were tempted to bite his fingers just to snap him out of it. You were still alive, and, unless something was wrong that you hadn't been told about, you would be up and about soon enough. There was no need to act so delicate, or so...reverent.

It felt nice though. Maybe you wouldn't bite.

Once you were full of tasty food, Loki set aside the bowl and took your hand again.

“How do you feel?” He wondered. “Do you hurt?”

“My head hurts. The bones probably aren't fully healed. Talking hurts a bit. The vibrations in my head. My body is stiff. It's pretty uncomfortable, actually.”

“Poor little dear.” Loki said, carefully folding the blanket to expose your arm. “Perhaps I can help with the stiffness just a little bit.”

He pulled your arm straight, running his hands along its length, one after another, working his fingers into your skin. The stiffness radiated out of your muscles as he went, leaving pleasant relief behind.

“Loki? Are you...is this a massage?”

Loki nodded. “Mother taught me. I was never going to be able to use my power to heal, like she could. But there is a greater dexterity in my hands than in my brothers, and she showed me another kind of therapy.” He kneaded circles, causing your fingers to twitch. “It can help with relaxing the muscles, of course, and the benefits of relaxation are not lost on you, I assume. Perhaps I should have done this sooner, and saved you some suffering.”

“Wouldn't have been able to accept it.” You said quietly. His hands felt incredible, especially when he concentrated his attention on stretching your fingers and kneading your palm.

“And now?” He asked, low and smooth.

Your face burned, and you pointedly looked away. “Didn't say no, did I?”

“It seems you did not.” He lay your arm down, covering it back up with the blanket, and moving on to the next arm.

“This also helps promote the flow of blood through the body, which will certainly aid with your stiffness. It promotes healthy skin, and the movement of oxygen, which will help you heal.”

He didn't mention it, but there was also, of course, the intimacy. The frightening, vulnerable intimacy. Especially when he moved on to your legs and feet. They were extremely stiff and sore, and his hands felt so divine that you couldn't fully smother the pleased little sounds of relief as they escaped your lips.

That was so embarrassing, and it only seemed to goad him on. He cooed, and teased and let his hands slide further and further up your legs, until you lost control, and accidentally kicked him.

“Ooh, feisty. My favorite trait.” He joked, but stopped what he was doing. “Too much?”

“A little.” You mumbled. “It's been a really long time since anybody did anything like this for me.”

“You don't have to go so long anymore. If you don't want to.” Loki said, quiet and serious. “In fact, if you would consent to it, I have some oils specifically for this purpose, and when you are healed, if you would like-”

“Maybe.” Maybe you could let him put his wonderful hands on more of you. Just for the massage though. For your health.

[recentanimenews]

Monster Mash? Non-Scary Anime for Halloween Wimps

  Halloween is generally viewed as a season of supernatural thrills, but some us—even some of us who routinely watch horror movies or read scary stories—aren't always in the mood for the terrifying and the macabre. Some of us, in fact, are gigantic, rubbery babies when it comes to anything more frightening than E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial, so what are we supposed to do when October rolls around and suddenly the Internet is flush with features proclaiming which scary anime are essential Halloween viewing?

  Fear not, gentle reader, for this article features nothing but the cutest, funniest, gentlest, or strangest viewer recommendations for anime involving things that go bump in the night. Below please find (in alphabetical order) a curated chronicle of some nine shows that are more sweet than spooky.

    Actually, I Am

  Year Aired: 2015

  Contents: Vampires, demons, gender-bending werewolves, very tiny aliens

  Profile: When Asahi Kuromine's would-be crush, Yoko Shiragami, turns out to be a vampire in disguise, she's allowed to continue attending the same school as her human friends so long as no one else learns her true identity, a task that is complicated by Asahi's general inability to keep quiet as well as the presence of numerous other supernatural entities among the class and faculty.

  Comfort Level: A cozy evening under the kotatsu, with plenty of mandarin oranges on hand.

  Where you can find it: Actually, I Am is currently streaming on Crunchyroll, and the series is also released on DVD and Bluray in North America by Eastern Star. An English language version of the original manga is available from Seven Seas Entertainment under the title My Monster Secret.

    Cuticle Detective Inaba

  Year Aired: 2013

  Contents: Werewolves, mad scientists, goats with a penchant for organized crime

  Profile: Former police dog turned private detective Hiroshi Inaba (who is also a werewolf) was ready to leave his old life behind, but his previous partner keeps dragging him into investigations involving the nefarious Valentino Family, a Mafia organization led by Don Valentino, for whom the letters “g.o.a.t.” take on a meaning other than “greatest of all time”.

  Comfort Level: A play session with a friendly but precocious puppy.

  Where you can find it: Cuticle Detective Inaba is currently streaming on Crunchyroll, and the series is also available on Bluray and DVD from Sentai Filmworks.

Demon Girl Next Door, The

  Year Aired: 2019

  Contents: Demon girls, magical girls, overly dramatic familiars

  Profile: One day, Yuko Yoshida awakens to her dark destiny as “Shadow Mistress Yuko” (“Shamiko” for short) and learns that she must spill the blood of a magical girl in order to break the seal on her family's diabolical powers. Unfortunately, Shamiko's a complete wuss who can't even throw a punch and the local magical girl, Momo Chiyoda, is a physical powerhouse, so the two end up becoming close friends instead.

  Comfort Level: Winning a particularly grueling thumb-wrestling match against your kid cousin.

  Where you can find it: The Demon Girl Next Door is currently streaming on HIDIVE and VRV.

    Don Dracula

  Year Aired: 1982

  Contents: Vampires, vampire hunters, enthusiastic large women who long to be bitten

  Profile: A horror-themed comedy based on the manga by none-other-than Osamu Tezuka himself, Don Dracula only managed to animate 8 episodes before the commercial sponsors funding it went bankrupt. Highlights of the series include Dracula's cute daughter, Chocola, and Van Helsing having an intestinal emergency and taking a poop in Dracula's coffin.

  Comfort Level: Realizing that even people regarded as artistic geniuses have a few turkeys in their body of work.

  Where you can find it: Don Dracula used to be available via streaming on Viki and YouTube, but at the time of this writing, these videos are no longer available in the United States.

    Flying Witch

  Year Aired: 2016

  Contents: Witches, seasonal spirits, vegetables with a threatening aura

  Profile: A cozy little tale that follows the apprentice training of a would-be witch with no sense of direction as she lives with her cousins in the Japanese countryside, Flying Witch celebrates all of the little things that make life worth living, such as gathering wild herbs, spontaneously chasing pheasants, and making poor life decisions after imbibing a few too many adult beverages.

  Comfort Level: Being swaddled in your warmest blanket with a warm cup of cocoa (complete with marshmallows) on a chilly winter day.

  Where you can find it: Flying Witch is currently streaming on Crunchyroll, and the series is also released on DVD and Bluray in North America by Sentai Filmworks. An English language version of the Flying Witch manga is published by Vertical.

    How to Keep a Mummy

  Year Aired: 2018

  Contents: Tiny mummies, tiny dragons, tiny creatures of myth and folklore

  Profile: Caring for an animal companion can be a huge responsibility, but what if the pet in question is an ancient Egyptian mummy that can fit in the palm of your hand? How to Keep a Mummy is a short-form series that's sure to deliver bite-sized moments of bliss for even the sternest monster-lovers.

  Comfort Level: A sixty minute YouTube compilation of pandas falling over, set to smooth jazz.

  Where you can find it: How to Keep a Mummy is currently streaming on Crunchyroll.

  Interviews with Monster Girls

  Year Aired: 2017

  Contents: Teenage vampires, teenage yuki onna, teenage dullahans, teacher succubi

  Profile: Overcoming physical disabilities and pushing back against social stigmas are a daily challenge for the demihuman high school students in this heart-warming and humorous TV anime based on the manga by Petos. And you thought your adolescence was weird...

  Comfort Level: The realization, muted by the distance of decades, that maybe high school wasn't that terrible after all.

  Where you can find it: Interviews with Monster Girls is currently streaming on Crunchyroll. An English language version of the original manga is available from Kodansha Comics, and the series is released in North America on a Bluray/DVD combo pack by Funimation.

  Is This a Zombie?

  Years Aired: 2011 - 2012

  Contents: Zombies, necromancers, ninja vampires, magical garment girls

  Profile: Ayumu Aikawa is an ordinary high school student who has to deal with the curse of undeath as well as a harem of supernatural interlopers including a reticent necromancer and a chainsaw-wielding magical girl in this light novel-based comedy that is silly, ultra-violent, and just a bit lewd.

  Comfort Level: That numb, prickly sensation you get when you sleep in a weird position and your entire left arm falls asleep.

  Where you can find it: Both seasons of Is This a Zombie? are currently streaming on Funimation, and Funimation also releases the series in North America on a Bluray/DVD combo pack. An English language version of the manga adaptation is also available from Yen Press.

    Ms. Vampire who lives in my neighborhood.

  Year Aired: 2018

  Contents: Moe vampires, moe vampire enthusiasts, a thinly-disguised Amazon.com

  Profile: It's a tale as old as time: girl meets girl. Girl loses girl. Girl discovers girl is a centuries old vampire, then gets girl back again by unceremoniously moving into her mansion along with her collection of creepy dolls. Vampire girl orders otaku merchandise online. Vampire girl's friends show up. Truly, it's a close encounter of the moe kind.

  Comfort Level: The supreme satisfaction of ordering pizza online and then having it delivered straight to your door and eating it off of paper plates rather than cooking a real meal and then having to clean up the kitchen and the dishes afterwards.

  Where you can find it: Ms. Vampire who lives in my neighborhood. is currently streaming on Crunchyroll.

    And there you have it, a (mostly) wholesome list of monster-themed anime for celebrating the Halloween season in a not-too-spooky manner. The titles here are by no means exhaustive—we didn't even mention Toei's 1980 masterpiece, Dracula: Sovereign of the Damned (pictured above)—nor did we delve into other honorable mentions such as As Miss Beelzebub Likes it. or MONSTER MUSUME EVERYDAY LIFE WITH MONSTER GIRLS.

  There's a whole world of cute and cuddly Halloween-appropriate anime out there, just waiting to be discovered. What are some of your favorite non-scary series? Let us know in the comments, and be sure to have a Happy Halloweeen!

    ---------

Paul Chapman is the host of The Greatest Movie EVER! Podcast and GME! Anime Fun Time.

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[kellyzeagman]

Hello from the cruise ship in Singapore!!

What a crazy last few days. I guess I should back track a little bit, even though it might be a little hard because everything has been such a blur. Firstly, the airport in Toronto. Definitely extremely hard to leave. The entire time I was there with my parents I felt like I was having an our of body experience and watching myself from the outside. I  had never felt so uneasy about something in my life. Obviously I was so excited to start this new chapter but my nerves definitely took over. I have never lived more than 20 minutes from home, nor have I ever spent more than a month away from friends and family. So, getting on a plane to live on the other side of the world for 5 months was extremely terrifying. I tried my best at not acting like it, but I was definitely feeling it. After I said goodbye to my parents and got through security, pretty much the only thing going through my head for the next hour before getting on the plane was “what the F*** am I doing”. It was 100% the most overwhelming moment i’ve ever experienced. Once it took off, there was obviously no turning back, which changed the game and I had to sit in this new reality for the next 20 hours of travelling. I was doing this whether I liked it or not. I liked the idea of what was about to happen, but wasn’t too fond of leaving. The plane ride to Hong Kong was 15 hours. It was also such a blur. I honestly don’t know how I made time pass by myself. I felt super lucky because I was able to pick an aisle seat online but once I got on the plane, I found out it was right beside the bathroom. I could quite literally lift up my left arm and touch the door. People opened and closed that door for 15 hours straight. I wondered why this aisle seat hadn’t been taken, but now I do :D.  But hey, at least I could stick my legs out and always have my own arm rest. I probably only slept for a combined 3 hours, so I don’t know how the other 11 seemed to go by decently quick. Watched a few movies, listened to some podcasts and basically pondered what the hell I was doing and why I was doing it. There were quite a few young children on the plane and a decent amount of crying (bless ear plugs). However, they made up for it because TRULY, there is nothing like a little toddler walking up and down the aisles of a plane to bring everyones mood up and provide a little bit of entertainment and give everyone the feels. Finally, we landed in Hong Kong and I had one hour till my next 4 hour flight to Singapore. I was able to lay down on the sexy airport carpet for a bit and then quickly got on my next flight. I was beyond exhausted and wanted to just pass out as soon as we took off. It wasn’t a busy plane, so there were quite a few empty rows. Part of me didn’t want to be annoying or a bother and lay down across the seats when no one else was, but thank god I did. I would’ve punched myself in the face if I decided to not because it was so worth it and I will never see those people again. Passed out across 4 seats until we landed. Amazing. We landed in Singapore at about 6:30pm. I wanted to store my bags so that I could explore a bit of the INSANE airport. While struggling to carry my 3 heavy luggage items to storage, I managed to completely destroy the “pull up” handle on my suitcase.  The handle literally cracked off and snapped out from how heavy my bag was. If I went to pull my suitcase, the handle would completely come out and the suitcase would drop to the floor and I would have a piece of metal with two prongs in my hand. I now have to pull that suitcase using the tiny little leather handle. It is truly horrible and I can’t wait to never touch the suitcase again until March. Anyways, I wanted to go see “The Jewel” at the airport. I’m planning on posting a picture of it at the end of this, but if it doesn’t work, google it because it is crazy. I went there for 7:30 because there was a light show. The Singapore airport is like a different planet. Everything is so futuristic and obviously very expensive. Very much similar to “Crazy Rich Asians”. The Jewel is basically a mall with stores and restaurants, but the middle has been made into an enormous waterfall that falls from the ceiling and the entire space around it has been made into a jungle/forest. I can’t really think of how else to explain it. I was a little bit sad watching the light show and exploring the airport by myself, because everywhere I looked around people were with friends and family and then there was just me by myself. ~Maybe I developed some personal growth~ Anyways, if you’re ever in Singapore- go to the Jewel!! Definitely worth it to go see, and free. I then lugged myself and my broken ass suitcase to catch a taxi to go to the hotel. When I checked in, the guy was like “your roommate has already arrived” I was so confused because  I obviously thought I would have the room to myself and was ready to just pass out. Luckily, my roommate also happened to be a youth staff and was starting her 5th contract. I ended up staying up longer than I wanted because I asked her about 100 questions. It was such a relief to get to chat to her about the job and what cruise life is like.  And so great that my first friend I made was going to be someone I would be working with. If I had been alone in that hotel room that night I feel like my head would have exploded, so I’m so glad it worked out the way it did. We went to bed at 10:00 and I totally thought I would pass right out until our alarms went off, but i’m silly and have never experienced jet lag before. So basically I think I only slept for 3 hours and just tossed and turned and panicked the rest of the night. When we waited for our shuttle the next morning to take us to the cruise ship there were two other new hire youth staff members waiting outside. This is also their first time working on a cruise ship, which was definitely comforting. I feel like everything just played out perfectly that night and morning which made everything much, much easier. The shuttle to the cruise was about an hour drive, so we got to see some of what Singapore has to offer. Super clean, lots of buildings, seems very rich.

The boat I am working on is currently in a “dry dock” where it is getting a 150 million dollar renovation. The total time in the dry dock will be around 5 weeks, and they are about half way done now. We got dropped off in the shuttle and had to walk our luggage about 400m to where we could enter the ship. It wouldn’t have been that bad if I had a suitcase on 4 wheels like every other sane person. And if it wasn’t 45 degrees. I looked like an absolute fool struggling to wheel my broken suitcase, with a 20lb duffle bag over one shoulder and a backpack over the other. I thought we would walk on the ship on a nice ramp, but because it is in dry dock, that wasn’t the case. We had to lift all of our suitcases up the most narrow 10 stairs i’ve ever seen in my life and pull them across a metal plank that was barely wide enough for any of the luggage. Luckily I’m not afraid of heights, because it was damn high. And not above water. The ship is literally out of water during this dry dock. Can you even picture a cruise ship out of water? It’s crazy. The amount of work and labour going into it is hard to wrap my head around. The first three days have just been filled with a ton of paperwork and training and touring around the bottom of the ship. I can’t believe i’ve not even been here for three full days yet, it feels like it has been a month already. We aren’t allowed on any upper levels that guests would go to because of all of the construction. However, I did get to briefly see a bit of deck 5 which is where one of the main guest areas is and I have no idea how they are going to be finished all of this in time. Literally everything is getting revamped. Everything. There is an unfathomable amount of things to get done still and to clean up. They have hundreds (if not thousands) of people from all over the world working on it on top of the 1,100 cruise staff that are also helping to do things. Everywhere i’ve seen on the ship is a sea of contractors in blue jumpsuits working 24/7. Its a mess, but a good mess.

Starting my contract during the dry dock has been great because there won’t be any guests on the ship until mid October. Everything has been extremely laid back in terms of training because there is not a rush. Myself and the other new hires are also super lucky because we do not have any duties during this time. Mostly everyone else has to be on “fire watch” where you are supposed to supervise a part of the ship for like, 6 hours and make sure a fire doesn’t start. Very glad to not be doing that. So when we aren’t doing training, we can kind of do whatever we want, which mostly involves napping or laying in bed. Jet lag is truly something. I’m in a temporary room right now until I can get placed with another youth staff. The room is a legit shoe box and everything is crammed, but I knew this would be the case. I currently am on a top bunk and cant sit up without bumping my head. It’s tricky to get out and requires some core strength. I’m also living out of my broken suitcase because I don’t want to unpack everything and then have to pack it all up again in a few days when I move. The last two nights i’ve gone to the crew bar where all the staff can drink, apparently some people go every single day, even when they are working. I’m now ready for a chill night in bed after the last 2 days.

It’s crazy how many different people i’ve met from all over the world in just 3 days. I’ve met 3 Canadians so far and one happened to be an engineer from Burlington. I was wearing a mcmaster t-shirt and he came up to chat. Small world. I think there are over 70 different nationalities working on the ship. Talk about a melting pot of culture. The food here is looking like it might be a bit tricky for me as a vegan. It has been the same stuff pretty much every day (pasta, salad, rice, potatoes, peanut butter sandwiches and fruit for me). Apparently the food gets better once it is out of dry dock, so we shall see. I’ll also be able to eat at guest restaurants once they are up and running. Unfortunately/also kind of fortunately, it looks like I wont be having any sweets or desserts until March.  I have to make my dark chocolate from home last!  It’s going to be so weird (but kind of nice) to not cook or clean any dishes for the next 5 months, though i’ll definitely miss being able to make whatever I want.

Dry dock is looking like its going to be pretty repetitive and similar every day.  I’ll have more to share once things get rolling and when we actually start working. I’m already missing the autumn weather that is going to be coming soon at home, it is so unbelievably humid and hot here and is only gonna get more intense. I think tomorrow we are able to get off the ship and go to Marina Bay Sands and Gardens by the Bay at night time. 

I’ve posted some pics either above or below this text post of the airport and one panorma of the back on the ship’s view in dry dock. (not supposed to post any pics of anywhere on the ship during the reno)

Cheers

[mythicalsecretsanta]

Untitled (T)

Your gift is for: Ali (AKA @rhinkipoo​)

Wishing you a mythical Christmas. I hope you have an amazing time and get all you wish for. (Written with help from Ren.)

From your Secret Santa, Sammy (AKA @Sammy75J on Twitter) xx

Read below:

After watching you shake Rhett’s hand, you see Link reaching out his own to shake yours.

“Good to finally meet you,” he says, a warm smile on his face.

You take his hand and pull him in for a hug, uncaring to his best friend beside you both. Leaning in close, you whisper, “l think we can do a little better than that after all the late night conversations we've had lately.” It feels nice and comforting finally being that close to him, taking in his scent of peanut butter, peppermint and a sort of musk you can’t quite put your finger on.

Link chuckles as he pulls away, looking happy and relaxed. He puts his arms around you as you spot Stevie approaching you as well. When she finally reaches you, you feel Link’s arms fall away as she comes straight in for a hug, squeezing gently. She smells like jasmine and some sort of sweet fruit – it’s a little surprising to you. As soon as she lets go, Link’s arm is back around you.

“Hey, I’m so glad you could come!” Stevie says, beaming as she steps back to stand next to Rhett. “Let’s all go inside so we can get started.”

“Actually, could you please point out the bathroom? It’s been a long drive,” you ask. Stevie directs you down the hallway, and you pardon yourself, heading for the bathroom.

With the door locked behind you, you take a deep breath. You don’t really need to use the facilities. What you really need to do is steady yourself, your heart beating so loudly you’re sure Link could hear it when he was holding you. There’s a mirror to your left, and the woman you see looking back at you looks borderline crazed.

“For God's sake, pull yourself together!” you mutter at yourself, a tight grip on the countertop you’re leaning on. “He's just a man, he's nothing special. It's not like you haven't met people you like and admire before. Just chill!”

Though you do feel a little calmer now, it really had felt so good being in his arms after just imagining it for so long. It’s more than a little frustrating, how much you want to put her arms around him, snuggle into his neck and kiss him. 

But the whole day has been planned out – you were invited here for a studio tour on the premise of being a fan who won a competition. If you’re going to make it out alive at the end, you need to pull yourself together, go back out there and not be a wreck, as difficult as that might be. Having taken more time doing your make-up than you’d care to admit, you forego splashing your face with water and take a few deep breaths instead. You wash your hands in the sink, check your reflection one last time, and leave the bathroom to find Stevie waiting for you a little ways down the corridor.

“Hey, hope you found it okay. We’re just about ready for you!” You can feel your frustration melting away at Stevie’s genuine enthusiasm for your visit, and she leads you down the hall into what you can only assume is one of their meeting rooms. Everyone is already sat around the long table, and as fate would have it, the only seat left available for you is next to Link. Here we go, you tell yourself as you take the final seat. Link turns to flash one of his gorgeous smiles at you.

“So,” you say, trying to distract yourself from the walking, talking sunshine personified sitting next to you. “I can’t believe I’m here! You guys are really real!”

Rhett’s booming laughter makes you smile. “That we are.”

“So what’s the itinerary for the day?”

“Well,” Stevie begins. “First, we thought we’d start you off with a tour of the place, let you meet everyone, then Rhett and Link are going to take you to lunch, then you’ll come back here and watch us film an episode. And then to finish off, we’ll all head out for dinner – crew included – before a bit of karaoke. How does that sound?”

“Sounds perfect – let’s get going!”

Stevie leaves you all to it, and the guys lead the tour for you. Their building is every bit as incredible as you suspected it’d be. You see their prop department, filled with weird and wonderful contraptions, and their fridge full of questionable ingredients. You get to lounge in the guest green room and walk through the crew’s office space. There’s even a dog there – you’re not sure whose – for you to pat and coo at when you see it.

The whole time, Link is keeping his space, aware of the company you’re both keeping right now. He’s being his usual charming and playful self, but there are moments when Rhett’s back is turned where it drops, his piercing icy-blue eyes looking straight at you. But just before you think you might break, the façade slips back into place, and you’re left wondering if you’d really seen anything at all.

Eventually, the three of you make it to their illustrious office. It’s spacious and colourful and bright, and you find yourself gravitating towards their brown leather couch by the window. Link takes a seat on the plush grey chair across the room, his eyes on you as you pretend not to notice.

“I forgot something in the kitchen, I think,” Rhett says suddenly, hovering by the doorway. “I’ll be right back.” And he’s gone before either of you can answer him.

There’s a beat of silence before you hear footsteps approaching you.

“Finally,” Link murmurs, sinking down onto the couch next to you. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He lifts his hands to your face, cradling it as he looks into your eyes.

It’s all the permission you need before you’re closing the gap, your lips finding his in your first kiss with the man you’ve spent weeks longing for.

Link is being gentle with you – you can tell – his lips soft and pliant against yours as he peppers your mouth with the lightest kisses. You can feel his hand moving downwards to your hip, and he pulls you in, his chest meeting yours as he presses you close.

The world falls away around you as you both become more heated. Link shifts to face you better, pushing your hair back as he dives in to kiss your neck. You can’t help but give him access, a breathy moan falling out of you when his lips first make contact with your racing pulse. He’s so good, this is so good, so much better than you could have possibly dreamed.

“I can’t believe you exist, Neal,” you say, and despite how silly you think it sounds, you’re answered with a chuckle.

“And I can’t believe we managed to find each other,” he says into your skin.

Your hands find their way under Link’s sweatshirt, bare skin and chest hair now brushing under your fingertips. You trace them around to his back, and you gasp at the feeling of his taut muscles. You’ve probably spent hours marvelling at his physique, the flex and broad musculature of his back, and now you’re actually getting to touch, to feel him.

He comes back up to give you a peck on the lips, his looking swollen and blushed red from ravishing you. You trace a finger along his bottom lip and end up caressing his cheek. He takes your hand and plants a kiss on your palm. A sudden pang of sadness hits you.

“I wish we could have today to ourselves.”

“Well, that hurts. I was hoping I could stick around just a bit longer.”

You startle to find Rhett standing in the doorway, his phone now in his hand. “Oh, gosh! This, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Don’t worry,” Link pipes up, kissing your hand again. “He knows about us.”

You gasp and look between the two of them, catching the smirk Rhett is sending Link’s way. “Yeah, when Link couldn’t stop talking about this girl he’s been messaging, I knew I had to find a way to shut him up.”

“So here you are.” Link’s grinning now, his arms still around you.

“Oh, that’s–” You’re so overwhelmed with relief that you untangle yourself from Link’s embrace and give Rhett a hug. “Thank you so much.”

You feel him shake with laughter and let go to find him smiling warmly at you. “He’s my best friend, and you make him happy,” is all he says, shrugging.

“Well, thank you. I hope I can keep doing that.” You turn to find Link standing now and looking right at you, the softest look on his face. You run straight back into his arms as he leans down to kiss you again, arms wound tight around your waist.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Rhett groans. “I’ll go hide in the podcast room until you’re done. Don’t want to make anyone suspicious.”

“Great,” Link says, and you can feel him smiling against your lips. “And make sure you’re wearing those noise-cancelling headphones. You’re gonna need them, brother.”