#but at the end of the day everyones just a bunch of sad dysfunctional kids being hurt by a binary that is reinforced by violence

[wygolvillage]

touga as a character makes like 1000000x more sense once you find out that they couldnt put his backstory into the show because his voice actor wasnt available at the time so his movie backstory is technically canon if you subscribe to that particular authorial intent. like oh so thats why hes like that... oh 😨 <- the realization i had after seeing the movie

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL

April 2021 Part 4 

it’s my birthday week! *raises a glass of pink milk* 

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Second Chance Ep 4 - oh noes my babies are all so sad! Teen angst for the win. Tropes included: crying in shower, a very significant hand hold, & striped shirts. (At this point over half the cast has been in stripes.) 

Love Machine Ep 1 - not gonna lie, I barely made it through the first half, this is a short run LOW budget experimental web series and it’s not good. Dropped.  

Lovely Writer Ep 9 - I like it when LW gets serious because there are fewer dumb sound effects, but oof Aey, poor baby. How many Aeys have I known over the years? Rejected, broken, angry, lonely, and lashing out. On a different note, I haven’t see the “sex drug made us do it” plot device since 1980s Johanna Lindsey. Props to that cocktail rearing its ugly head. (yeh yeh) ZOMBIE TROPE ALERT. (Is this the point where I remind the world at a-play doesn’t have to hurt? Well, it doesn’t! Toys, prep, and lube people. Sheesh.) Anygay, zombie trope is put safely back underground. Please don’t let it rise again? (I KNOW, I’ll stop now.) So this was a rough episode, especially the back end. (Okay now I’ll REALLY stop.)  Seriously tho, BL doesn’t do a massive coming out family drama scene often. I liked LW’s handling of this one. Hard to watch but compelling. 

Close Friend Ep 1 (OhmFluke) - very cute snapshot into a LTR featuring an overworked music producer and his student BF. That’s the chassis for this whole series, each one has to do with the song & is a portrayal of that song’s message. Essentially, the theme of this one was remembering to make time for your partner. I enjoyed that. OhmFluke gave us easy casual familiar affection and a kiss, but no BL tropes, just romance. 

Fish Upon The Sky Ep 3 - Pi is a total spazz & the ghost story bit was... well, it was something wasn’t it? Lots of tropes: fixing his clothes, wound tending, drag baby around, piggyback, head in lap, hand hold, and ending on a drunk kiss. I just noticed Pi uses guu/mueng with Mork, but Mork’s a year older. (So I have a new entry onto the linguistic brats list.)  So rude and presumptuous. Also I gotta say this, don’t wear watches when you’re working on a cadaver, mmky boys? 

Y-Destiny Ep 4 - look MaxNat have great chemistry, this ep had loads of great tropes (e.g. cheek kiss, rooftop, public claiming via phone), it’s not their fault I’m just not wild about these characters. I do like Nuea’s wanna-be idol wardrobe though. And Sun is sporting the red bag version of Tharn’s black bag that I wanted so bad in TT2. (I wonder if I can score a knock off when I’m over there?) Regardless, I basically grinned all the way through this installment, so that’s another thumbs up from me for Y-Destiny. Who knew I’d come around? Man would I love to see these two get their own series. 

Brothers Ep 12 - teacher/student exposed! But the power of boys on phones will overcome all. No KhunKaow for me, so of course I found this ep tragically disappointing. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

HIStory 4: Close To You (Taiwan) Ep 6 - MuRen is officially a yaoi manga character in the flesh. H4′s outright mockery/subversion of tropes “don’t touch him he’s mine,” + “touch my lip & think of kissing” makes the fact that other (way more damaging) tropes are being blithely utilized without critique almost - dare i say it? - insulting. YongJie is trash but I’m the one who feels like trash because I want to forgive him. How aptly abusive & dysfunctional we all are. I don’t know whether to applaud H4 or start drinking. (Maybe this is the show I should invent a cocktail for? Who am I kidding? This is totally a jello shots show.) 

Friend or Lover (Taiwan) Ep 2 - I thought this was only a microfilm but turns out it’s a web series. It’s cute. I’m enjoying it. 

My Lascivious Boss (Vietnam) Ep 3 - subs take a while to drop but it’s still better than average. I like a secret identity trope, I love a grumpy/sunshine pairing, and the side couple is great but this ep was slow. With only 6 total (I assume) they better get the main couple together next ep or the improved quality of this series will be sacrificed on the alter of pacing issues. 

Word of Honor (China) Ep 28-30 - slowed down to focus on bad guys (yawn...ooo Scorpion...yawn again). Then baby gets kidnapped, other baby goes crazy, and old friends turn up. We end on DOOM because mathematically this was an episode 11. All boxes checked.

Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding (Korea) Ep 3-4 - how is this show SO DAMN CUTE & weirdly wholesome at the same time? Another one of those: Will Korea resolve this satisfactorily in 4 short eps? But I seem to say that half way through every Korean BL. These days, I have complete faith. Warm fuzzies for everyone. 

Stand Alones

Color Rush movie is the same as the series. There is a stinger at the VERY end (untranslated) but which I’m assuming has something to do with the missing mother. Is this a possible indication of a 2nd season? Hopefully someone will eng sub the stinger and post it out into the universe. So yeah, Color Rush movie = To My Star style, sadly, not Wish You. That said, I did enjoy watching with different subs. The first version I watched was fan subbed, and they were better on English colloquialisms. Viki’s subs are better on Korean colloquialisms. 

Breaking News 

Bunch of new press on Thailand’s I Told the Sunset About You 2 AKA I Promised You the Moon. Here’s a master post on the subject with all the links you could ever want. It will start airing May 27th 8 pm (Thai time) on LINETV.

New Thai Bl Golden Blood got a teaser trailer. Stars familiar side dish Gun Napat (Techno from LBC) as a rich kid who needs a bodyguard. Yeah, it looks to be the Thai version of Where Your Eyes Linger which is FINE. I love me a bodyguard romance. DO EETTT Thailand. Trailer contains ALL the tropes: dry his hair, piggyback, cooking together, and more, plus good smooches. It looks GREAT. Also cheeper to make then KinPorsche and it might get funded due to of residual enthusiasm. Also GOOD TITLE. 

Close Friend got another teaser trailer this one for Talay & Yoon (no subs). 

Taiwan has a new BL coming out... eventually. Looks to be a new franchise like the HIStory series with different couple(s) each season. It’s the first Taiwanese BL from a major in-country network. The first installment is titled Be Loved in House: I Do (seriously Taiwan, could we talk about your titles?). It stars a familiar face, Aaron Lai from HIStory: My Hero. It’s a grumpy/tsundere boss/employee office-set BL with some forced proximity to push them together. (Nods to Japan.) No release date, but (unlike Thailand) Taiwan usually doesn’t make announcements without content & serious intent. 

Gossip 

Taiwanese BL NOVEL Miracle dropped a trailer, no subs or translation. According to YouTube comments it was supposed to be part of HIStory3 but MODC took on its slot. Still it’s kinda fun to see what might have been.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Some shows may be listed later than actual air date for International accessibility reasons.

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something. 

[dysphxtric]

Mental Illness - My Mental Health Story

TW: Depression, Anxiety, Self harm, Suicide, Sexual Harassment

“You should smile more.”

“It could be worse.”

“Just don’t think about it.”

These were the phrases I heard throughout all of my elementary and high school years. There was never a time when my peers and teachers, would not mention some bizarre, ignorant statement revolving around mental health. Not to mention, my family also contributed heavily to the stigmatization of mental health issues. Essentially, my family approached the subject of mental health with extreme hesitation, they refused to talk about how it affects people of all age, gender, ethical background (etc.) Every time I would say “I’m feeling lost” my family would automatically dismiss my frantic worries and it was not any different when I went to school. My peers would continuously remind me that my pain was not valid and that I need to stop being so sensitive. My primary parental figures, my mother and brother did not have the adequate knowledge or tools to be able to hold space for me. I would frequently hear my mom say, “I could understand someone suffering from PTSD feeling upset or sad but you’re so young and healthy honey, you have nothing to worry about” or the old classic “Someone else has it worse than you”. Whether I was at home or at school, I heard the same ignorant statements spewing out from what felt like everyone. And I could never comprehend what was the point of these falsely “encouraging” statements and why profusely use them? These kinds of statements do not uplift, nor do they empower those struggling with mental health issues, if anything it makes it extremely debilitating when your emotions are not acknowledged nor validated. One cannot expect to simply brush away another person’s emotion, thought or feeling as though it means nothing.

With that being said, growing up, I lived in a dysfunctional household alongside my mother, my older brother, and my grandmother. My mother would always be juggling work, schooling, and her dating life. My brother was very reluctant about staying home so he would always vanish after school, hang out with friends, party hard and engage with various street substances. Now my grandmother? It was not long after she immigrated that she began to immerse herself within the Jehovah’s Witnesses ideology and “religiously” strayed away from us as my mother likes to say. My mother was never fond of religious practices that were not “orthodox”. My grandmother wanted to indoctrinate my mom, brother, and I into joining her religious little club but failed which resulted in countless fights, yelling matches, and multiple dents left in our walls. The back and forth with the yelling was what scared me most in my childhood even if it was over something as small as not closing the cabinet door. I think it was around this time period I experienced violence/ trauma at home and truth be told I was extremely stressed and anxious all the time as a kid. My mother would cover the punched indents by taking magazines and sticking pages onto the indent. Often times my stomach would turn as I looked at the pages covering the area where my brother punched the wall with brutal force. Moreover, I felt impending sadness because all I ever wanted was for everyone in my family to be able coexist and not argue. I was trying to keep the peace between everyone, yet I was always the one that got caught in the middle of everything whether I liked it or not. I would get blamed a lot for trying to mend things for everyone. Even though all I wanted was the best for all my family members.

Fast forward to my pre-teen/ teenage years. By this point, my brother and grandmother were no longer living under the same roof as my mother and I. My brother was living with his ex-girlfriend while working as a security guard meanwhile my grandmother was living in her own little subsidized apartment preaching the word of Jehovah. At that particular time, my mother and I lived in a marvellous urban semi-detached house in a peaceful neighbourhood. My mother’s boyfriend had moved in with us and for the most part I was really happy because at least it was not just me and her.

My mother’s boyfriend lived with us while I was going to school. He was a really nice, caring and warm-hearted individual although I could never understand why my mother argued with him so much. I once told him “You should propose to her, I can see you two together forever” to which he replied with a welcoming smile.

But eventually just like with all good things, there comes an end. The inevitable breakup my mom went through was very bitter and I had to be there for her. Afterall, I was technically the only child that was around to emotionally comfort her. Ironically, the breakup occurred during the time I was being bullied in school. And it was difficult to be fully present for my mother while dealing with a lot of negativity at school. I had been experiencing cyber bullying on MSN by a bunch of peers calling me “weird”, “ugly” and “different”. To make matters worse, the group of kids that bullied me online ended up following me everywhere I went for recess which posed as a big obstacle for my well being. I had to eat inside the portables when teachers weren’t around or inside the girl’s bathroom stall just to avoid being teased. I never felt like I had a safe space to myself where I could be vulnerable and open up. Not to mention, it was a difficult time and there was practically no one I could confide in. I didn’t have a social circle of supportive friends, after all I was an antisocial person. Fear washed over me as I worried about disclosing my unpleasant experience to my mother because she was already dealing with so much, the heartbreak, the bills, work problems (etc.), it was then and there that I decided to lie instead of telling the truth. Ultimately, lying became my cooping mechanism to deal with the ongoing pain.

I kept up the lying for a long time in order to make it seem like everything was okay. I lied to everyone from family members to school peers to the teaching staff to principals to counselors.

For the longest time, lying sheltered me from all sorts of unnecessary questions. No one could really tell whether I was truthful or disloyal because I was able to make it sound believable. When I was a teenager, I continued to go down the same destructive path by being dishonest with myself and others. Many times, the thought of suicide crossed my mind and when I started to think about it and plan/coordinate the intricate details it did not hit me that something was very wrong, and I needed urgent help. A big part of the problem was that I was so used to downplaying my pain, given my family circumstance and stigmatization I experienced growing up with. There is no denying that I would engage in negative self talk convincing myself that I deserved the pain and suffering for not being likeable enough or for not being smart enough.

Sometimes I think that is the thing… people do not understand that I lied because that was what I was required to do in order to survive my childhood. I, myself do not tolerate lying and I think it is a form of betrayal and if I were to be completely honest, I would have NEVER lied to my mom had it been safe for me to express myself authentically in my household.

I did not live in a household where it was safe to speak my mind freely and disagree with my mother. Disagreeing was always the last thing I wanted to do, disagreeing meant I got the belt, my devices would get confiscated or that I was going to get grounded. They say, “Honesty is the best policy” and I do not disagree however, it is not as black and white as one may think. In my situation, lying was not only an adaptive coping mechanism but it became a survival mechanism to keep me safe from harm/threat.

I did not have very much individuality growing up. I felt as though having an opinion of my own was bad. In order to perpetuate this fixated mindset that I had, my mother constantly deemed certain attributed behaviours or thoughts as “good” or “bad”. So, say you were upset about a recent breakup with your partner, my mother would scoff and say, “You know life isn’t just about love right?” and play it like it means nothing to the person affected by the situation.

The first time I ever felt depressed was when I was 13. At that age I did not understand why I was feeling what I was feeling. All I knew was that there was something wrong with me. It did not help when I was being picked on by my classmates telling me “Go die”, “You belong in a ditch ugly bitch.”

The moment when things started getting out of hand was when I was first started my Art and Family Studies class in the same semester. In both classes I was placed into groups amongst other students. In Family Studies I had to be in a collaborative group that would divide responsibilities and tasks accordingly. When it came to cooking, my group consisted of four snobby, rich yet immature peers who were unwilling to help and contribute in any shape or form, I had to become the bigger person and sure enough I took all the responsibilities on myself. Though, it was not a smart move. But I was super shy and felt anxious to do anything different least to say speak up and advocate for myself, so I did what I had to do which was prepare meals, clean, and wash the dishes. At the end of the day, none of my peers thanked me, the only thank you I got was getting groped while washing the dishes and getting laughed at.

After what happened I ran to my best friend in tears to tell her what happened just to find her say “It’s not that bad, you’ll be fine” I felt like my blood was going to boil and I was about to start fuming. I stood thinking “Huh, that is so weird, is this how you comfort a person after being sexually harassed?”

Not to sound all grim but that experience showed me that no one really cared about me. No one cared that I got groped or how I felt in that moment. Let alone not even my “best friend” who was supposed to fulfill her role and be there for me. All I wanted was comfort and to be heard out. I could not even tell my mother about this experience until I turned 21 because of how ashamed I felt carrying around that experience and not having the ability to open up and mourn what happened that day and to be able to heal that damaged part of myself. I carried that incident with me for 7 years in silence because I was scared of being honest.

That specific experience was very detrimental to my mental health. Everything began to spiral out of control, I sprawled into a dark depressive state. I began to have intense panic attacks, insomnia, forgetfulness (etc.) After a certain duration of time, I had thoughts of suicide lingering at the back of my head. I questioned my worth, my identity, my culture, my everything.

The bullying and name calling persisted and became so intense that I ended up missing weeks of school time. Some of the boys in my Art class found it funny to make fun of my last name and call me “Prostitute”.

One day in the early springtime, my Art teacher noticed the marks on my wrists as I was painting and had not said anything until I made it to my last period class. I was called down to the guidance counselors office and was interrogated with questions.

“It has come to our concern that one of the staff members noticed cuts on your arms.”

I sat in silence trying hard to contain my anxiety.

“Are you struggling with depression or low mood? Is everything okay at home?”

It came to the point when I got so tired of lying about my pain that I admitted “Yes, I am struggling, I need help”. I dived into the bullying occurrences, the cat calling, my low grades, my self-esteem, the groping, my home situation (etc). After that, I was told that my mother would have to be called down to the school for “safety” reasons even though my counselor promised not to disclose any personal information to my mother. My greatest fear was that I did not want my mom to know that something was wrong.

Of course, my mom came to my school. She was told everything that had happened. I met her at the counselor’s office just to find her wailing in distress “You are such an embarrassment” and “Your counselor told me what you did, how could you do this?”. When the counselor gave us resources for help, my mother grabbed the papers and shoved them into the trash, got up and yanked me out the office.

The next three days that followed, my mother withdrew into her room not saying a word to me. I felt really uneasy and upset. She had her right to be alone but locking herself away from me and avoiding communication altogether? Didn’t make much sense.

I felt extremely guilty for not opening up to my mother sooner. But instead of choosing to be compassionate and caring she chose to resort to anger. She furiously blamed me for being “quiet” and “not trustful” which all landed on my shoulders again. It was “my” fault I thought.

Bottling this up resulted in a full-blown mental breakdown. I could not focus or concentrate because of everything building up. It came to the point where my mom had to choose between living in a toxic community or starting fresh elsewhere.

And even though my mother kept subjecting me to her harmful stigmatizations, the transition from my old school to my new one helped me greatly. When we moved away, I gradually started to feel better emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Very quickly, I ended up adapting to my new high school where I finally made friends.

One thing I cannot deny is that there definitely was a silver lining to all of this. Although I went through severe bullying and torment at school and home, I managed to reclaim my power and through that I discovered my inner peace after being extracted from my toxic high school. The new school that I ended up attending completely changed me and inspired me to become a more authentic version of myself. It was almost as though I did a complete 180°

My new peers and teachers were enthusiastic, open-minded and caring. The new community I was surrounding myself in was a very positive one that broke down stigmas and encouraged deep understanding and acceptance. My mind was blown when I found that it was easier to conversate with girls and guys at my new school, I was gradually becoming confident and more vocal, and I liked the feeling of not hiding myself away from the world. It felt rejuvenating to finally be heard and seen by others.

Slowly but surely, I began to partake in various activities at my school. I joined the Poetry Club which I would have never considered joining had I stayed back in my old school due to fear of how I was perceived. Ultimately, I started caring and nurturing myself more. My new friends supported me, and teachers began to openly listen to my stories and encouraged me to write. When I started writing, I realized that I could use this medium to cope with my depression and anxiety. The acknowledgment made a major difference in my life like never before.

If it were not for the transition from my old high school, I would have not made progress in developing into the woman I am today. I know that I am not my pain, I am not my mistakes.

Do I still struggle and have bad days? Yes, of course. Just like any human being I have my days when I am not feeling the greatest however, I am more open to learning about how to engage with my mind, body and soul in order to soothe myself during turbulent times. I still have that inner critic however, I have been engaging with activities such as bike riding, painting, drawing, and reading to help occupy my mind which as a result has reduced the time that I spend ruminating. Occupying myself has worked magic, I am now able to reduce and control how much time I spend self-loathing, criticizing, and judging myself. Rather than judging every thought, I’ve learned to slow down and observe.

If you stuck along until the end of my story, I want to thank you for reading through my experience. My hope is that my story can shed some light on the myths and stigmas surrounding mental health, especially within the Eastern European community. I want you all to know that you are ALL valid and I wanted to be able to share my story so that my readers know that they are not alone.

[rowyn-writes]

Funny Business

Warnings: Angst, fluff, language

Pairings: Gabriel x Winchester!Reader

Characters: Gabriel, Dean, Sam, Castiel, Rowena, Jack (mentioned only)

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: You’re Dean’s daughter, and you’re all getting ready to go to apocalypse world to rescue Jack, your best friend. When Gabriel sees that you’re upset about Jack’s absence, he tries to cheer you up and confesses that he likes you.

Requested by @daisyelll​

You missed your best friend.

It felt like Jack had been in apocalypse world for centuries. Of course you missed you grandmother, Mary, but you weren't really that close with her.

Yeah, Dean Winchester was you father. He had you at a young age, 22, to be exact. Your 'mother,' wasn't really ready to be a mom yet, so she had given you to Dean in hopes he would be a good father to you. And he was.

Dean didn't want you to grow up the way he did, so he never took you traveling. Most of the times, you would stay at Bobby's house, but your dad called to check in every night and to say 'I love you,' before you would fall asleep. Whenever he was in between hunts, he would always come see you and do a 'Daddy-daughter date,' where he would take you to the movies and go out to eat.

When Sam was stuck in the Cage with Lucifer, Dean came and got you, taking you to live with him, Lisa and Ben. You loved your little dysfunctional family. Lisa was a good female influence in your life, seeing as how your own walked out on you. That's why you were devastated when Castiel wiped Ben and Lisa's memories of the Winchester's.

But that all happened when you were a kid. Now, your 21, and desperately trying to find a way to bring your best friend back from apocalypse world.

You had never connected with someone like you connected with Jack. He was like your brother, and you'd kill to protect him.

"Where is the Witchy Winchester?" A Scottish voice filled the air. That was a nickname that Rowena gave you. A few years ago, you had dabbled a bit in magic, and ever since, she had been adamant on training you.

"Rowena!" You said happily, hugging the woman.

"Y/n Winchester." She smiled as she looked at you with sad eyes. "How are you, deary?"

"I'm powering through." You assured her. "I'm just ready to get my family home." Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"We'll get them back, sweetheart." He kissed the top of your head.

"It would be a lot faster if this dumbass, impotent archangel would grow a pair and lend some grace!" You growled loudly enough for Gabriel to hear from wherever he was in the bunker.

"Oh whatever, Baby Winchester! You try being tortured by a Prince of Hell and see how you feel." He called back.

"I was." You deadpanned. "And do you see me acting like a little bitch? No." Sam and Dean snickered at your comment.

"Alrighty then," Rowena said before your argument could continue. "Let's get started." She set down a large bowl on the table, along with a bunch of other ingredients. "Fruit from the tree of life." You began gathering your things, such as clothes, non perishable foods, water, and of course, weapons. You and your father had argued earlier on in the day about you joining them to go to apocalypse world, which ended in a screaming match that you won. You definitely got your temper from you father. "Blood of a most holy man." Sam tossed over a pack of glow sticks that you put in the bag. "And ah. . ." Rowena reached up and plucked a hair out of Dean's head.

"Ow!" He complained, rubbing the back of his head. You rolled your eyes as you continued to pack.

"Something from the other side." Rowena finished, adding his hair to the mix.

"Hey. How’s Gabriel." Sam asked when Cas entered the room.

"He said he needed a minute alone." He said, his voice a low rumble. "He wanted to extract his grace by himself. In private." You shivered at what the Angel told you. You did not want to imagine what he was doing to extract his grace. Your uncle and father had the same disturbed look on their face as you did. "So I left him alone in Dean’s room."

You bursted out laughing, your eyes crinkling at the edges like your dad's did. "You what? No." Dean seemed very grossed out at the thought of what Gabriel was doing in his room.

"I hate to interrupt, but I can’t be the only one to noticed the rather glaring hole in this plan." No one seemed to pay attention to the witch as you continued packing up for the trip. "We open up the rift, it gives us a day to find and save your Mom and the boy. And it’s a very big world over there, and you’re not even sure where they are, so. . . "

"She's right." Cas spoke up. "The clock may run out on us."

"Yeah. It might." Sam seemed indifferent and unconcerned. You couldn't help but feel the same way. All you wanted was your family back together. You tucked your loaded gun into the waistband of your jeans, covering it with your flannel shirt.

"Yeah, well we don’t have any better ideas." Dean shrugged.

"Mm, that’s inspirational."

"Here it is!" Gabriel exclaimed, walking in with a very dim looking vial of his grace. " The final ingredient - a fresh serving of archangel grace."

You raise your eyebrow, tilting your head to the side. "That's pathetic." You announced, earning a snort from Rowena.  "Dude, I could give more 'grace' than that, and I'm a human. You could do better." Gabriel scoffed at your words.

"That is the jet fuel of divine emissions." He proclaimed. You gave a little gag, as Dean and Sam gave him disgusted looks. "It’ll be more than enough to get the job done."

You, Rowena and Cas gave each other skeptical looks. You all knew that there was no way that was going to work.  You shook your head as Rowena added more ingredients to the spell. You strapped two katana's on your back, adjusting them so they fit comfortably.

"Ya know, we won't judge you if you chose to sit this one out, kiddo." Your dad tried to convince you to stay back once more.

"Dad." You whispered, linking your hand with his. "I want to go. You're my family, and we don't leave family behind. Never." Dean gave you a small smile as he squeezed your hand. You noticed from the corner of your eye that Gabriel was watching you with curious eyes.

Rowena called you over to her, needing assistance with casting the spell. It was a rather powerful one, meaning it might need two witches instead of one. "Ready, deary?" You nodded.

"Koth Munto Nuntox." You both bellowed, motioning your hands towards the place where the rift was supposed to open. It gleamed orange, but you could tell the light was fading. There was no way anyone was going through that rift.

"Okay, everyone ready?" Cas asked the group.

"Yeah, all right." Sam nodded.

"Let’s do this." Dean agreed.

"Let's get our family back."

As you go to step through the rift, just like you expected, it began to fizzle and lean to the side. You all tilted along with it.

"Okay, that was very, very fast." You noted. The group seemed to agree with you.

"One could even say premature." Rowena remarked, making you laugh. Gabriel seemed to be flustered by you laughing at Rowena's joke.

"Um. . . I thought it would be enough." Gabriel coughed.

"All right, great. What do we do now?"

"I think we all know what to do." You said grimly. Rowena sent you and Sam a terrified look. You gripped her hand to give her reassurance. "I don't like this as much as the next person, but we need an Archangels grace. And it seems there's only one left on this god forsaken world that can actually provide his grace."

"No." Sam shook his head.

"We need to get Lucifer."

.

. .

. . .

You had decided to stay back while Sam, Dean, and Cas went to get Lucifer. Gabriel had already offered his assistance before coming back to the bunker. You were holed up in the library, starting at old pictures and videos on your phone. All of them were of you and Jack.

You giggled as you watched a video of Jack trying ice cream for the first time. "Ah!" He exclaimed, rubbing his temples. "Is it supposed to hurt? Is this some kind of torture that humans use on each other?"

The video shook as you began to laugh. "No, silly. You just ate it too fast. It's actually really good if you slow down and savor it!"

You felt a tear roll down your cheek as you scrolled through pictures of the two of you. He was your best friend. Your brother. And it hurt like hell to be so close to getting him, but still not quite there.

"Hey, Baby Winchester!" Gabriel said happily, walking into the room. "Guess who just captured Lucif-" He cut himself off as he saw the state you were in.

You quickly wiped away your tears, exiting out of the video app on your phone. "What do you want, Gabriel?" You sniffed.

"Are you okay?" He asked, seeming genuinely concerned, which shocked you. The Archangel never cared about anyone but himself.

"I-I'm fine." You nodded.

He frowned as he approached you, sitting down in one of the arm chairs. "Hey, what's with the waterworks?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, shaking your head. If you spoke, you were sure to sob. You calmed yourself before you began to speak. "I miss Jack." You confessed. "He could always make me laugh when I needed to. And right now, I really need to laugh." Your voice broke as you talked.

Gabriel's frown deepened. He knew you to be this strong warrior, this tough young woman who feared nothing and no one. And to see you so broken hurt him. He stood up, snapping his fingers as he did so. I Wanna Dance With Somebody began to play.

"Really?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at the man.

"Yes, really. Now get your ass off that chair and come dance with me. You know, many women would kill to be in your position." You glared at him, feeling skeptical. It was known that Gabriel was a huge flirt. Hell, not even two hours earlier, he was flirting with Rowena, who quickly shot him down, clearly not interested.

"If you try anything, I'll kill you faster than you can say uh-oh." Gabriel held his hands up in surrender, silently promising that he wasn't going to pull any funny business. You slowly got up off the couch and walked towards him. He extended his hand, which you hesitantly took. Gabriel spun you around, making you gasp in surprise.

"I'm quite the dancer, if you didn't know." He smirked. You still weren't in the mood to put up with his bull shit. "I'm going to make you laugh, if it's the last think I do." He promised.

"Why do you care so much if I'm unhappy. You barely know me." You mumbled as Gabriel led you around to room.

"Because, from how little I do know about you, I know that seeing you cry is a rarity. You're this badass warrior goddess that supposedly doesn't have any emotion." You were about to question him when Gabriel interrupted you. "You're a legend in the Supernatural World." He explained.

"Yeah, for being Dean Winchester's daughter." You said bitterly.

"Ah, now why is that such a bad thing?"

"Because I want to be known for the people that I've saved and the good that I do. Not for just being my dad's daughter."

"Well, trust me, sweetheart, that's not all you're known for." You looked up at Gabriel as he rocked you back and forth to the music. He clearly wasn't pleased with the fact that you were still frowning, so he picked you up off the ground and twirled you around.

You gave a giggle of excitement as he did so, earning a proud grin from Gabriel. He began hopping around the room, making you laugh harder. "There's that beautiful laugh."

"Beautiful." You scoffed. "Yeah, okay."

"Why do you find it so hard to believe that someone would use that word to describe you?"

You shrugged. "Because no one thinks of me that way."

"Now, that's not true. I'm sure many, many men and women would love to be with you." Gabriel insisted, which made you blush.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" You asked.

"Well, if I told you, I think there would be a multitude of people trying to murder me." He confessed.

You gave him a questioning look, not realizing what he was trying to tell you.

"Jeez, you Winchester's are so oblivious. I like you, Y/n. But I know if I acted on anything, you're family would murder me in a heartbeat."

You looked at him for a moment before grabbing his jacket and pulling him in for a kiss. It took him a moment to kiss you back, but when he did, you were breathless. "Then we don't tell anyone. Not yet at least."

"Ooh, a secret love. I like that sound of that, Winchester." He murmured as he kissed you again.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

I can promise there will be a part two, hehe. 

[mildly-incoherent-ramblings]

A Breakup And A Party (Writing Prompt)

Friendships at the punk house were always strained to some extent. When you have a bunch of dysfunctional people with fucked up backgrounds all crammed in a space together living in squalor, conflict is inevitable, and as normal as taking a shit once a day. There was a party, and bands were set up in the living room. Alcohol was brought and supplied in surplus by the many attendees, to the point where there were just unopened fifths of booze laying around you could pick up and take a swig of and no one would fuck with you. There wouldn't be any running out that night. This was pre-covid times, so people didn’t care about sharing drinks or being close. Taking a swig meant having the courage to down a good 2% backwash-to-alcohol content from about 20 or so other people as well as the gunk left on the lip of the bottle from the last guy, but these kids had more important things to worry about. 

The space was crammed, poorly vented, disgusting. Everyone loved it. Bands played for about 15 minutes at a time with a few people out front watching for cops who would rotate between sets. On a busy street like that one, noise complaints were not common, so there was truthfully little to be worried about. In the backyard, two girls were making out passionately on a half busted wooden bench, trying to avoid getting splinters in their asses, and a dbeat kid studded head to toe keeled over the side of the back fence to vomit, a romantic backdrop for their little moment. A circle of stoner kids that had no affiliation with punk but kind of just showed up wherever the drugs were sat and passed around a suspiciously funny smelling joint, remarking on how they didn't know about all this “heavy shit” but liked the general vibe. 

Nearby, Henry, double fisting two bottles of store-brand ripoff Jack belched as he attempted to utter the question “So when is our set?” only realizing after that he was, in fact, talking to a fence. He stumbled up the dangerously busted stairs and swung open the back door violently proclaiming that he was ready to party as if he hadn't already been for the last several hours. Henry was sauced constantly, to the point where a lot of his intoxicated tendencies were just seen as part of his natural demeanor. You generally could not tell when he was drunk or not because he was always drunk. 

In the back room several kids piled on a stinky old leather couch just barely supporting their weight, ready to bust. In the middle of them was one kid in a thrasher vest trying to brush his long hair out of the way with his elbow as he attempted to cut several lines of coke on a busted DVD copy of Videodrome. The kid next to him sneezed, and the powder flew like a sad little cloud, and instantly he was shoved from the couch and told to leave, booted out by the other couch kids with great aggression and narrowly escaping an ass kicking through the kitchen door. Thankfully they were all already way too wasted to get up, so when he left the room, it was as though he had not existed. They licked their fingers and wiped the coke residue from the DVD and dabbed it on their tongues fiendishly hoping to get every last little bit. A crusty kid knelt on the floor and tried to sweep up what was left and snorted it, with all the grime and debris it had mixed with. Realistically, he had consumed worse before. His friends laughed.

The last band had finished their set and Henry had set aside his two bottle friends to plug in his amp when Nelson walked in wondering loudly where the fuck their drummer was. Stink wasn’t even a punk kid, he was a DJ and fucked with the electronic scene, who just so happened to really like drumming on the side. Speaking personally as the narrator removed from this situation, I would argue that his insistence in being there while also taking no interest in the music or community whatsoever was the most punk thing anyone present was doing. 

But, where was he? 

As Nelson hurried to set up the mics and get things in order, Hackney arrived with his bass set up, ready to play within seconds. He always had his shit together. His eyes were red from the 100g edible he had just eaten (the thc content in legally sold edibles was not as heavily regulated at that time so these things were easy to access in the city.) Yet somehow he was clear and present, and immediately irritated that even though they were supposed to start their set right now, their drummer was not even present, and the other two members were wasted beyond belief, even for them. 

Just up the stairs however, a frustrated Stink and his girlfriend Melody were amidst a heated quarrel over several unresolved relationship issues that really could have been discussed at another time. But, as alcohol has a tendency to inhibit judgement and heighten a certain sense of impulse, one or the other, it was unclear who, thought it to be the best time to try to have a discussion. Not just thought so, they felt it had to happen NOW, or their fun time for the night would be ruined with no chance of salvation. 

Stink was not exactly emotionally present, or competent, and communicated poorly. He was also a notorious cheater, an aspect Melody would frequently be in denial of in despite of his repeated offenses, sometimes in full view of her and her friends. He truthfully was not the type to be able to have a girlfriend, but was also unfortunately passive to a fault, and could not stand to end a relationship with someone as lovely and admittedly clingily as Melody. She adored him maybe a bit too much, and had this hope that she could change him somehow. 

 A side-note, from your very gay little narrator here: Please, women of the world, understand. You cannot change your dirtbag boyfriend. Leave Him, Honey. You will be so glad you did. I promise you that. You deserve better. You really do. 

They were fully engaged in an aggressive back-and-forth complete with insults and counter-accusations fit for an episode of Jerry Springer. Melody was clutching a broken red solo cup in her left fist she had crushed in frustration, the remaining beer inside it dripping on the wooden floor. Stink was guzzling a pint of Ancient Age between cruel remarks. After a particularly sour comment, that red solo cup collided with his crooked face, and he returned fire with the nearly empty bottle of Ancient Age. Just then, Henry came storming into the room, grabbed Stink by the collar and dragged him out, leaving Melody to sit and sob on the bed for a little while before composing herself and venturing down the stairs to fix her makeup. Not a single person in this situation even once considered that this was not their room to begin with. The gentleman who lived there would soon come home to discover that his space was briefly a theater for domestic violence in his absence, a discovery that enraged him to say the least. 

Having dragged him down the steps the way a fed up mother would drag a misbehaving child by the ear, Henry shoved Stink behind his drum kit which some well-to-do hipsters took upon themselves to set up for him so the time wasted would not eat into their experimental shoegaze/normcore set, scheduled for immediately after. Seemingly not phased by the last hour or so of nonsense, the band immediately started to go through their setlist. In all fairness, they had a reputation for some level of inconsistency, so when they missed their own cues or played in a tempo different from what was intended for the song no one really noticed it. The whole time, Melody stood amidst the crowd of crust punks, dbeat kids and preppy art school kids, glaring at Stink from behind his drum kit. He however seemed indifferent to the whole situation, and avoided looking her direction for the entire set. 

They would not speak for the rest of the night, he sequestering himself off with his bandmates who went to have a smoke out front and then wandered down the street to the bodega for even more booze they definitely did not need; her nestling herself in the comfort of a small group of queer and trans kids who in despite of being welcomed by this “progressive” community felt as isolated and excluded as ever. They fixed her eyeliner and complimented her outfit while giving her some much needed space to vent, and the rest of the night she spent enjoying the company of her new friends. She would not speak to him again for weeks. Conversely, he would act as though none of it happened and wondered with emotive confusion to his friends why she was upset in despite of her having told him very clearly why. The relationship eventually ended, but not before several attempts at resurrection much to the distaste of their friends on either side who could see what neither was able to; that the combination of the two together was like mixing bleach and ammonia. A very bad idea. 

Upon their return, Henry stayed behind outside, lit another Marlboro, and looked up at the sky. The fog loomed over the distant hills. The occasional car on the nearby overpass zoomed by. He found a moment of peace there. He was the eye of the storm, the settling of the dust before it would be kicked up again. On the horizon, the faintest hint of the morning light began to glow over the city, and the night finally ended. 

Semi-Fictional. The people existed, only some of this actually happened.

[xiaomoxu]

MLQC CN Lucien (Xu Mo) Recollection Date Part 1 & 2

SPOILER ALERT!!

It's Xu Mo Birthday Date which has released on CN server. I'm doing translation for personal reason, so I'm sorry if there's some mistranslation. Kindly tell me if you found some :) feel free for read it~ ^^

PART 1

Today is Xu Mo’s birthday. What is different from the past is that today is also a more special day one by one

In the morning of this day, Xu Mo will report on the topics he has studied for many years.

A string of large characters is displayed on the screen—"Brain injury patients' cognitive changes to different emotions and intervention measures for emotion recognition after injury"

I sat quietly at the back of the lecture hall, watching the scholars walk into the lecture hall one after another.

After getting to know Xu Mo, I know that he has always been studying things.

Although I don't know much about his subject, through the whispers of the audience, I know that this is one of the major issues that have been deeply valued and unresolved in the brain science community.

Xu Mo in a formal suit stood on the stage. He looked down in a circle, paused for a few seconds while looking in the direction where I was, then walked to the podium.

Xu Mo: About twenty years ago, Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI)—Emotional cognition caused by traumatic brain injury is a problem that is not of much concern to everyone.

Xu Mo: Usually people feel that this is a small burden brought about by the treatment experience or the psychological changes of the patient himself.

Xu Mo: In a 2012 study, it is estimated that 54-60 million people worldwide suffer from TBI every year, and 2.2-3,600,000 people suffer from moderate to severe damage every year.

Xu Mo: In recent years, with the advancement of technology, we have been able to monitor changes in various physical data of patients with brain injury through the use of high-end equipment.

Xu Mo: We found that emotional changes—the traditional psychological cognition may be caused by physiological changes in the patient’s brain itself.

Xu Mo: Therefore, we follow this line of thinking to conduct in-depth research on the mechanism of emotional and cognitive changes in TBI patients to determine the principle of change.

Xu Mo: According to the guidance of the research results, intervention measures for post-injury emotion recognition for TBI patients were also formulated.

Xu Mo calmly and deliberately dropped every character. As he spoke, the report on the screen was displayed page by page.

The people at the bottom of the venue were quiet. Except for Xu Mo's report, there was only the rustle of pages turning.

Xu Mo: People with TBI may also increase their anxiety after maintaining TBI. After TBI, anxiety may exacerbate other cognitive dysfunctions.

Xu Mo: For example, the ability to recognize emotions.

Xu Mo: Compared with positive emotions, it is more difficult for people with TBI to recognize negative emotions such as anger, fear, and sadness.

Xu Mo: Next, I will introduce based on the data of 25 participants in the research group.

With the large lecture hall, scholars and researchers from all over the world are witnessing how this long-term research has reached this moment step by step.

In the last row of the lecture hall, I secretly photographed Xu Mo of today and inserted it into our third volume commemorative album.

PART 2

It was noon when Xu Mo left the report building.

I left the venue early and waited at the door with a box of cakes and a bunch of flowers. While seeing him, I solemnly handed over the bouquet.

MC: Professor Xu, good work.

Xu Mo glanced at the cake box in my hand, his eyes fell on my calm face, and he bent his eyes thoughtfully before taking the bouquet.

Xu Mo: Are you not planning to "surprise" this year's gifts?

MC: This bouquet of flowers is a gift for Professor Xu's hard work, not a birthday gift~

I smiled and raised the cake box in my hand, looking at Xu Mo sincerely and directly.

MC: But sometimes, the "surprise" that is not "surprise" has more unexpected magical effects.

MC: Anyway, you will guess at the end of every little action of mine, so it's better to go the other way and be more generous.

MC: I hope this year’s customized birthday, everything will start with you.

Xu Mo: So... what can I do today?

His voice was a little low, contained in the autumn breeze, like a leaf that kissed the water.

Meeting his gaze, I nodded happily.

MC: Today is the third birthday I celebrated for you, and it is the day when your years of research has a temporary end.

MC: Your mood is the most important on such a special day

MC: I want to accompany you to do all you want to do, not let you meet my expectations.

MC: In order to deal with various special situations, I have done special heat preservation and storage for the cake box.

Xu Mo: If I want to do a lot, will it be too troublesome?

MC: The birthday is to accept all the kindness of others.

Xu Mo: So what if there are a lot of things and can't finish it today?

MC: Then we will continue to do it tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow. Anyway, we have a lot of time.

MC: So you don't have to think too much, you can do whatever you want.

Xu Mo slowly lowered his eyes after hearing my answer, and lowered his eyes, not knowing what he was thinking.

A few days before the report, Xu Mo was slightly silent. At that time, I didn't ask much, just stayed quietly by his side.

With autumn leaves rustling, Xu Mo raised his hand to straighten my hair tossed by the wind, and then put his forehead against my forehead.

Xu Mo: That....

Xu Mo: Can you not be happy?

A few words whispered quietly from my ear, and I was a little surprised.

Xu Mo's expression was still very pale, the corners of his raised mouth kept a fixed arc, and his eyes brightened by the autumn light looked straight at me.

Like sneaking out of the shell, some expectation, and some unknown heaviness and panic.

I couldn't help taking a breath. The cold green grass and the fragrance of flowers filled my heart and lungs together.

MC: of course can.

Xu Mo's breathing stopped for a moment after hearing my answer

MC: Although I very much hope that you will be happy on your birthday.

MC: But if you are unhappy, I will be unhappy with you.

MC: I will spend all the unhappy time with you and wait for the moment when happiness comes.

"Happy birthday" should be a blessing, not a shackle.

Xu Mo smiled. The bright autumn colors covered his eyes, like the moment he explained the conclusion just on stage.

I shook the cake box and tilted my head.

MC: So, where does Professor Xu want to spend his special day?

He raised his head and looked deeply into the distance.

Xu Mo: I thought of a special place, but it was a bit far away.

Xu Mo: Would you like to walk with me?

MC: of course!

After a few hours' drive, we came to an old street.

Although it is an old street, it is constantly being repaired and refurbished.

I visited the neighborhood once when I was very young. Today's street scene is completely different from my vague memory.

People's vague and soft memories of the old city will always fade away with the renovation of every stone tile, every hawker who has been organized.

Until one day, Quiet City was silent in time.

Xu Mo's memory has always been very good, but this time it seems to be slightly slow.

He would stop at a certain street corner and look at it lightly; he would also quietly look around at the fork, as if the choice was not in his memory.

I followed him quietly, following the paved road. We climbed the ramp and went around for a long time.

After a while, Xu Mo finally stopped.

Before us, there is a silent open space.

I secretly looked at Xu Mo and saw that his expression was still clear light.

It is like looking into the distance without seeing the weight, looking at someone outside of time through this open space.

I retracted my gaze and looked at the clearing in front of me. I always felt that I could faintly guess where it was.

Xu Mo: MC, let's sit there for a while.

Xu Mo pointed to a bench facing the open space, took my hand and sat on it with him.

The noon in late autumn was a bit cold, and the whole world was so quiet that there was only breathing. The exhaled white mist whirled in the air and disappeared silently.

I looked at the open space, wantonly imagine what it once looked like.

Maybe it used to be the kind of small bungalows from the old days, there may be a small courtyard...

Xu Mo: There used to be a small bungalow like the old one. Do you know what it looks like?

Xu Mo's voice suddenly sounded, and I was shocked, and for a moment I thought that my imagination had a sound.

MC: I saw this kind of house when I was a kid, but I can't remember exactly.

Xu Mo: The bricks of the house are a little mottled white, and the roof is covered with red tiles.

Xu Mo: Because it is on a hillside, it often winds up

Xu Mo: On special days, rows of small blue and white flags will be hung on the eaves. When the wind is blowing, sitting in the courtyard and looking up is very beautiful.

Following Xu Mo's description, I closed my eyes looking at the open space and imagined the small white brick and red tiled house.

I felt Xu Mo holding my hand, and he put his fingers between mine, bringing our ten fingers together tightly.

I was about to open my eyes, but Xu Mo's voice continued

Xu Mo: Push the door outside and you can walk into the yard.

MC: Will there be flowers in the yard?

Xu Mo: Yes, there is a row of small flower beds on the left, but the owner is always a bit busy and often forgets to water.

Xu Mo: So they don’t look so healthy.

Xu Mo: The door of the room is in front of you, when the door opens you will have a "squeak" sound.

I nodded subconsciously, feeling as if I really walked through the small yard and opened the door.

Some stale air is opened along with the door, and together with the gentle memory, it welcomes the long-lost return.

-Part 3 and 4 will be updated.-

[recurring-polynya]

Polynya Headcanon Time Again: Renji - Hinamori - Kira Edition

So, ICYMI, I wrote an Academy-era fanfic this weekend that’s just dripping with my Feels for these three. A thing I like about this friendship, is that, in contrast to the many ride-or-die friendships of Bleach (which, let’s be real I also love), is that it’s very brittle, and when Kira and Hinamori show up in the manga, it’s is about to shatter like a dropped vase.

Here’s where we first meet Hinamori. She’s been sitting in her by herself, when Renji comes in, bro-ing it up with Iba:

So, obviously, she and Renji are acquaintances, but Renji also seems sick of her. Like, he’s heard her whining about Aizen forever, and he tolerates it, but he’s honesty done with this weepy nonsense, although he’s still nice enough to offer her some reassurance (also, this is shortly after the very very good Aizen - Renji talk, where it’s pretty obvious that Renji does not trust Aizen as far as he can throw him... the SS arc is so good for Renji-character stuff, I swear).

Then, a little later, Renji, the only person in SS who is actually serious about catching Kurosaki Ichigo, has run off to do just that, and Hinamori finds his badge and goes to Kira.

Are they stupid?? They know very well that Renji has been waiting and working for f o r t y  y e a r s  to see Rukia again, and they’re like, “Gee willikers, he seems upset that she’s going to be executed, I wonder why?” They even contemplate ratting him out to Aizen. Now, we learn later that they have been gaslit to an inch of their sanity, but my point here is that as much as they think they are still friends with Renji, they have utterly lost touch with him. And then, a few chapters later, they crack completely and turn on each other.

So, the interesting question is... were they ever really as good friends as they thought they were? And I think that they were good friends, but their friendship had some huge fault lines in it that eventually brought everything down.

My ideas about their early friendship comes from two sources. The first is my own grad school experience. I ended up in a research group with a bunch of guys who had done undergrad there. We did all our work together, and helped each other, and I am not going to say I liked them, but we all got a 4.0′s in a very difficult engineering program. I can even tell you which guy was the Renji of the group, where we all got better for having to explain stuff to him in excruciating detail. I knew other people in the program that were TAs instead of RAs and they were lost without a tight-knit study group. So, in addition to everything I said here, I think falling in with Kira and Hinamori was key to Renji’s success in school, compared to Rukia’s.

The second source is a short flashback that I am pretty sure is only in the anime. I’m sorry I can’t remember which episode it is, but it’s not even the main Kira-Hinamori-Renji flashback episode. Anyway, they’re training in the woods, and Renji is just beating the shit out of Kira and Hinamori, and they’re just making heart-eyes at him. And then, Rukia walks by a mile away, and Renji whoops right outta there, jumpin’ fences, dodging trees, to go talk to her, and his dumb face is so happy, and Rukia looks mildly pissed, and my poor heart breaks into 1 million pieces.

And so the way I theorize the way all this works is that on one hand, Kira and Hinamori would be basically fine in school without Renji, but he would be a huge mess without them. He doesn’t understand the social norms, he’s got a chip on his shoulder, and he’s terrible at kidou. Sure, he helps them with the more sports-oriented subjects, but I think they actually keep him around because they’re fascinated with him. For one thing, he’s got a natural affability that doesn’t show up in his early days, when he’s busy pissing everyone off, but by the main timeline, Renji is friends with basically everyone. There is an omake where he gets Ishida to make Sasakibe a new uniform. Kira and Hinamori are socially anxious bundles of nerves like you and me. There’s also an interesting class hierarchy here. Kira is low nobility, so he tends to think of himself as no-big-deal, and he’s maybe socially a little higher than Hinamori. Hinamori is from District 1 of Rukongai (which probably means she died, rather than being born, which I headcanon is a Huge Deal in Soul Society), so she’s going to think of herself as a Rukongai nobody: miles below Kira, and maybe a little socially higher than Renji. Renji has lived in abject poverty, and knows that these rich idiots can’t even conceptualize what his life was like. I think there’s a lot that he holds back from them, and they don’t particularly even notice. But Renji aspires to a life of respectability in Soul Society, so he puts up with their inanities, and they actually teach him a lot of the soft skills he needs (I mean, Byakuya hires him. Let’s be real, Byakuya would not hire someone like Ikkaku).

I headcanon that, at least in the Academy years, Hinamori has a crush on Renji, Kira has a crush on both Renji and Hinamori, and Renji is too obsessed with Rukia to notice any of this. Renji is a big, doofy, straightforward musclehead, and he’s different from anyone they’ve ever met. He’s also very, very different from Aizen and Gin, the two people they will respectively become obsessed with in later years and who ruin their lives. I even think that later on, Renji swears to himself never to pursue Hinamori as a romantic prospect, because she’s too similar physically to Rukia. (that being said, I will read any fanfic that has them having sad times sex I AM NOT PROUD)

The final note I want to make is how much all three of them not-so-secretly think they are the best one. As kids, this competitiveness is very natural, and probably helps them do better in school, BUT this contributes to their eventual split. When Renji leaves for Squad 11, I think both Kira and Hinamori think he’s making a terrible mistake, and “if only he would listen to them...” Renji is sick of being mommed and judged by them, and largely cuts them off. Then, as Aizen and Gin demand more and more of their loyalties, Hinamori and Kira each think that they are being rational, and it is the other one who is being taken in.

Anyway, SUCH A GOOD, INTERESTING, DYSFUNCTIONAL DYNAMIC. We really don’t get a whole lot in the manga of them rebuilding their friendship,  and I like to think they do. They show up in the omakes a fair amount. Anyway, I love these nerdy flawed babies. Send me all your fanfic and fanart, please and thank you.

[purplesurveys]

403

What is your opinion on...

skinny jeans? They make you look good, but they can get uncomfortable as fuck. I hate wearing them but sometimes I just want to look nice. boys wearing skinny jeans? Suits them. leggings worn as pants? Totally valid? Idk this is pretty normal here so I don’t have much of an opinion on it. I wear leggings myself on my lazy outfit days. aliens? They’re out there, but they don’t have big heads with big black eyes and small bodies. We can’t be the only ones living here. politics? Annoying, petty, a mess.

the government? Annoying, petty, a mess. green tea? I like green tea-flavored things like frappuccinos and chocolate, but I don’t drink tea so by default I’ve never had actual green tea. police? Big bullies. the LGBT movement? Comforting. Heartwarming. homosexuality? That over being straight anyday hahahaha. asexuality? Should be respected. bisexuality? SHOULD BE RESPECTED. transgenderism? Should!!! Be!!! Respected!!! pickles? The fucking bane of my existence. I can’t trust anyone who likes pickles, but for some reason I guess Americans love pickles on everything? And even drink pickle juice??? I guess my Filipino tastebuds just aren’t suited for them. cats? Tbh I really hate them. I WILL care for one, especially if it’s neglected or something, and I’ll feed it, and try to show it affection, but I generally hate cats. I want a pet so I can play with it and scratch its belly, not that so it can intentionally scratch my leg. dogs? I love dogs. They complement my introversion so well, and they make me feel happy and secure. frogs? People in this country run over frogs all the time and that’s the only time I ever see them lmao. They make for good fried legs though. Mac computers? My preference. Windows computers? They’re fine but I’d always pick a Mac over these. I had an HP laptop before my current one and it was the slowest, most dysfunctional and virus-prone laptop I’ve ever had. Made me distrust HP laptops forever lmao. iMovie? I have no opinion as I have no idea how to make videos. iPhones? A good brand. I’d prefer iPhone over Android any day. jeggings? I’ve never owned a pair so I don’t have an opinion. legalizing marijuana? Uhhhhhhhhhhh tbh, I know -110% about weed stuff, but I’ve heard some things about marijuana being used for medicinal purposes – that I can get behind. women's rights? Duh. Why is this even a thing we’re fighting for? It’s supposed to be something that already exists. affordable health care? Is what everyone deserves. the opioid epidemic? I have no idea what you’re referring to. religion? If it helps people live their life and guides them, good. But so many people are also big hypocrites, and that makes religion give off such a bad taste to me. the freedom of religion and freedom of speech? Should be obvious rights but ones that shouldn’t be abused to the detriment of others. Yeah, be free, but don’t be an asshole. inequality? ...Is still a thing in the Year of our Lord 2019 and I honest to god don’t know why. injustice? I don’t what sort of opinion to form on this other than it’s unfair?

karma? Gets those who deserve it eventually. ouiji boards? Always wanted one of my own from the many horror movies I’ve seen. Jesus? I don’t believe in him. Buddha? Certainly has much nicer followers than the guy above. Ghosts? Are real, and there’s no changing my mind. Halloween? My favorite holiday, if it counts as one. One is never too old to celebrate it. teenagers trick-or-treating? See above answer. Christmas? My automatic signal to be depressed and hibernate for two weeks until the end of the year. abortion? Pro-choice as fuck but that doesn’t mean I don’t see it as technically murder. I’d do it if I had to, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think it’s cutting off a life. the death penalty? I don’t approve of it solely because it’s too kind of a verdict. bullying? Bullies are sad people. cyberbullying? Same thing. Bullies are shitty. forgiveness? Is a sign of humility that I admire, but I’m incapable of. the supernatural? There are stuff I believe but some I don’t. spiritual gifts? ??? speaking in tongues? I only ever read this in the Bible lmao. demons? I won’t be surprised if these were real. demonic possession? My cousin had an episode once, so I believe in it. angels? Nah. prayer? If it helps other people then I respect that. 

swearing? Is a good way to blow off steam. positivity? Always a good mindset. Skipped a bunch of questions cos I was too bored to answer them. If you want to answer the whole thing though, go here haha. school uniforms? I went through them for 14 years, so I don’t have a problem with them. homeschooling? I don’t know how it works. I only know one person who was homeschooled. boarding schools? There aren’t any here but the image I have is that it’s for brats or stubborn kids, because that’s always how it’s portrayed in films. private colleges? Unnecessary. today's popular music? Increasingly bad. today's popular books? Unfamiliar. sexual innuendos? Funny, as long as they aren’t too extreme or offensive, or both. alcohol? Makes me feel gooooooooood. At least until I have to throw up. historical fiction? Remove the fiction and I’m on board. drinking? Fun. dancing? My body is so uncoordinated and I can’t dance at all. dancing in church? Whatever. evangelism? hitchhiking? On my bucket list!

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

Life Story Part 109

Something was afoot in the madhouse. Of course something was always afoot in that house, with four mentally unstable, desperate people living in the house. Whitney and Allison began leaving together a lot that November to my mother's house. I had no idea why they wanted to go back over there. It was sad and boring, and the lighting was very poor so at night everything was dim and atrocious. I would often accompany them to the door, and then turn back and go home when we reached our destination. I still wasn't welcome in my mom's house since that summer, though David told my mother that he was willing to suffer with my presence that Thanksgiving and Christmas for the sake of the holidays and the fact my mother planned on making both holidays big family get togethers.

It was fine though. Because I discovered very quickly that when Allison and Whitney went together places, Josh would lump the two of them together and hate them both equally. Josh had a very strange ego indeed. He seemed to see two or more people doing something as some act of hatred towards him. And what made this even more bizarre to me was the fact that Josh could at times be extremely clever and clear minded. But when it came to himself there was no gauge on reality. Internally, you could look into his swirling eyes and know he was suffering some insane idea that he was being slighted. To a degree, Whitney probably knew this about Josh too and was likely intentionally doing this stuff to tease him.

I remember one evening we walked to my mother's house and when we reached the door to her apartment, it was sunset. I smiled and said my goodbyes and started walking back to the house. When I opened the door and walked inside Josh was slouched miserably over his computer. There was this intense feeling of rage and self loathing and loneliness. Honestly, there was this sick black sadness that took over his entire being and seemed to cover everything around him. I felt like I was choking in it just by being in the same room as him. It was a strange feeling to love someone with these problems. It intrigued me. He looked like some small sickly creature that had been left to die by it's parents. When he turned around to see me come through the door, he honestly looked shocked and surprised, and suddenly a soft loving sense of gratitude washed over him, not unlike the ending of Beauty and the Beast when the beast realizes that Belle came back after he let her go. His eyes twinkled. We didn't say anything but he smiled sheepishly. I am sure my eyes twinkled in return, and I smiled back.

I guess what I wanted Josh to know more than anything was that he wasn't alone. I actually understood him. There were so many things that individualized him from the world that I felt within myself. Josh might have been the one person in my entire life who actually made some sense to me. Whatever he had been doing for his whole life in contrast to everyone around him, I actually loved him unconditionally and I saw potential and greatness in him, even if no one else had ever recognized it and I recognized his flaws just as clearly and I loved him regardless. To me, he was perfect. He could be vulnerable around me. He could be crazy around me, or ugly. I would love him anyway. I loved him more than anyone in his entire life ever loved him, I would stay when everyone else was gone and things were hard. I would lay down my life on his behalf. I was his. There really was nowhere and nothing else for me to live for anymore. I was here for a reason. I tried to give that away with eye contact and with smiling. And he was receiving it, and taking it in. It was shocking and exciting for me to not feel rejected out of hand. And there was something strangely addictive and pleasing about submitting so completely to someone else.

I picked up this book called Maia written by Richard Adams, who also wrote A Watership Down, which is a book I fell in love with several years previous. Maia is not a well known book of his – but it's worth reading in it's own way. It's a book that follows the story of a girl who becomes sexually active in this fantasy world, becomes a prostitute, and eventually transcends nobility with her beauty and grace and strange purity and is deified. It's well written, and disturbing and oddly beautiful and insightful on surviving and rising above. I spent my long hours when I wasn't working (which I fail to talk about because dishwashing is a little boring – but it's where I spent 70% of my waking hours, I was either listening to The Smiths, freaking out about my weight on the scales, or reading this big book. This book articulated so much of what I had learned in the world in the last year – it was fascinating to be reading these same conclusions from a book that had nothing in common with my actual life. I felt like I was learning how to embrace my own femininity too, which was something that was explored throughout the novel.

I wasn't perhaps doing such a great job at being a feminist – I was still trying to understand my own femininity I suppose. I wasn't that I didn't consider myself a feminist – the concept certainly never insulted me in any way, but in the limited and real-world outlook of my personal life, I didn't feel like I could afford to be overly proud. If I had to humiliate myself under the boot and perverted wandering eyes of men, I wasn't too good to do that so long as I won out in the end. I admit I enjoyed the power dynamic. I felt lucky to be where I was – I had never believed I would ever leave my father's house and now I was living on my own in this dark crazy world. Somehow I had lost everything that year, and in the stitching of my coming together again, I was recreated into something more than I had ever been. Certain potential aspects became part of my character, when they had always and presumably might have stayed hidden and dormant had all these strange events not happened. I had to embrace my evolution. And the more and more I thought about it, I started to almost find a strange happiness that I had been broken in this way. Had I never been totally broken after all, I wouldn't have met Josh, and maybe I wouldn't understand him as well as I did.

Thanksgiving was a nightmare. Maria was allowed over that holiday. Her kids were unappreciative of the food. They threw it around. It seems like there was some kind of a fight that took place between Maria and David. Things might have gotten violent. I believe my mother screamed at me. I don't remember what all happened – it gets pretty mixed in with a bunch of other terrible Thanksgivings and Christmases that ended up happening over the years, only Allison and I left that evening near tears – we felt physically wounded by the chaos and hatred and fear of violence that went on throughout the night. There was no meaning for us as a family to even try these family get togethers. Everyone only seemed intent on wounding one another. All of us in our own individualized way were so dysfunctional and scarred from our experiences that sitting around a table of Thanksgiving dinner and trying to simply be polite and get through it was like putting rabid apex predators in a cage with one another. There was a lot of ill will. It seemed more and more true that being in the same area as our family was destructive to our mental health and nothing ever good could come of us being together in the same house. As bothered as I was by Allison's particular unwellness, there was no contest that she and I were the sanest ones in the house. Maybe family wasn't worth having. It cemented in my mind a notion that I had already pretty much developed, that you should choose who you call family rather than simply accept the one you were born into. This of course being relative to my own personal set of circumstances, but one of my least favorite quotes is that blood is thicker than water. I've had friends that meant more to me than many of my siblings and I don't care what kind of clannish code I am breaking on that count.

Maria was living at Wes's for the time to stay in town I guess in the meager attempt to get custody of her children since the state was now keeping them at my mother's until Maria could get her life in order and demonstrate that she could be a competent adult. Secretly, Maria and Dan got married soon after loosing the kids, which didn't help the custody case to get her kids back whatsoever seeing as Dan was a good portion of the reason she had lost the kids to begin with. She didn't seem overly interested in trying to get them back – and more or less only did so much as to get a few spare bills here and again in the exchange of pretending she couldn't move forward if she didn't have it. She ended up having a mental breakdown suicide attempt and ended up on the 5th floor. She came back from that after four days, only to have another where she slit her wrists a few weeks later. This time Dan stitched her up by hand, taking great relish in the blood and gore of it all. Maria and Dan sure were a sick couple. It was easy to feel horrible for Maria most of the time – but the kind of horrible you felt for her left you with a sinking helpless knowing that she was too far gone to really reach out to. She had been doing this for years and no matter how much help or money or opportunities came to her, she continued on with an unappreciative neediness that could never be filled. She wasted every opportunity to make a good decision. She was more than willing to put her children in disgusting situations for Dan's sake. She never saw any of the things she said or did as being her fault. She lied continuously and her inner narrative was a long drawn out story of how everyone in her life had wronged her. And I guess it wore people down around her – even though that sounds callous. Nobody wanted to help her anymore, nor did anyone have the resources to attempt it. The best that could be done was to take the kids away.

During this time I mostly kept to myself. Josh seemed to cool down around Christmas – he seemed to become a lot warmer and happier again. Seeing as he and Whitney both went to their married parents for these holidays I didn't see a lot of either of them or if I did I felt like I was always catching them putting on their winter gear to head out somewhere together, and Josh was probably happy to have Whitney and he alone once more. I laid low in the basement like a witch patiently waiting for my spell to take hold. Allison meanwhile had fallen into severe depression. She had come to live at the madhouse expecting love and acceptance, but Josh was unstable, cold and jealous half the time and she had the misfortune of putting herself in every bad situation between him and Whitney. In her childish egotism she had been so sure that I was the one in the house that would 'fall' or whathaveyou. This living situation was taken very seriously. But I had been pragmatic somehow, despite my emotional breakdowns and such. Being exhausted from work and becoming more and more consumed by weight loss helped me forget about what was happening around me sometimes. I learned to measure myself and measure the meaning behind my actions and the actions of others, and it kept me safe from being blamed for whatever was upsetting Josh. I had to stay on my toes though, had to keep smiling despite feeling miserable, had to play the game unflinching. Allison was basing her life decisions on wishful thinking and faith. And it was breaking her. She stopped leaving her room, and instead listened to Jens Lekman for hours and hours and pet Whitney's long since abandoned kitten, Jude all day. She stopped brushing her hair. She resented me despite the fact that I had pretty much stayed out of her and Whitney and Josh's issues.

Usually I cooked Allison lunches along with mine – which for me I had a very small selection of foods I would eat at this point – omelets, and apples and peanut butter and salads with tuna fish on them. Just because we weren't always getting along didn't mean that there wasn't a sisterlike symbiosis between us that kept us together. We laughed and enjoyed music together at times. I got a lot of information from her concerning whatever Whitney and Josh were upset about (one or both of them were always upset). We had/have a lot of core similarities even when we are also very different. We were glancing out the glass side door by the kitchen one morning and I saw a pretty teenage boy walking down the road. He had long brown hair, brown eyes. He was alternative. A nice face. He was quietly striking – but pretty young for my taste however. Normally I don't look around for pretty people in the world, but he was surprisingly decent enough to where I thought it was definitely worth my time to point him out to Allison. I called out to her to come to the window, and she told me that his name was Forrest and that he went to her school. And that she had developed a crush on him. Which was weird and interesting since he was walking right through our neighborhood and I just happened to spot him. It was nice to hear that Allison had taken to a boy around her age.

After one of my swimming days with my mother, we went to eat at the little coffee house bakery that I liked to eat at. There were sometimes used books and cds for sale on the shelf and I began digging through them. I ended up finding a very strange album in this bakery that one might not expect to find in a place like Clarkston Washington. It was the used copy of Jason Webley's first album Viage. It wasn't the best album I had ever heard, but I knew that Jason Webley was associated with Amanda Palmer through a collaboration they did a few years back and Jason Webley grew on me after this. I listened to all his music obsessively. Bits and pieces of his music sound like what I later learned to appreciate in The Mountain Goats, and there is a definite strong Tom Waits influence in his songs. Still, it's highly original – there is nobody in the world like Jason Webley. Jason Webley's lyrics were poetic and beautiful. It was theatrical but also very low key at times. There is an otherworldly power to it all. His lyrics always struck me as slightly pagan, though nothing that could be pinpointed exactly – I would not strictly consider this pagan music. I consider finding this album in my obscure bakery shelves to be one of the best finds I ever had in that stupid little town. Part of me wondered if the universe had placed it there for me to find. Because there wasn't going to be hardly anyone in a forty mile radius who knew who Jason Webley even was. Had I not been there to find that album, it most surely would have been buried in a landfill sooner rather than later.

Music was always the one good thing in my life. It always felt crisp and alive and poured into the core of me when I listened to it no matter how unhappy I was. Even the stuff I could barely stand that played in the stores harnessed a strong reaction out of me. I always assumed that everyone was influenced by music as much as I was, but I've seen enough now and been informed first hand that it isn't always the case. I think a great many people are impacted by music and I am most certainly not trying to say that I am that unique in the big picture, but it was always a little higher on my priorities and influences of life decisions than it was most everyone I knew. I didn't think of music as light entertainment – to me music was a life force, probably more important than politics when you think of the deep seated nature of how it affects us on a personal level. When I listened to new music, my mind expanded and depth and direction of what I could feel – and I was beginning to experiment further with my taste. I was starting to listen to African music and music listened to in the 20's and 30's along side the staples that I was accustomed to.

Amanda Palmer put out this kickstarter video asking for donations to a new album she had put together, and I was instantly in love with her all over again. I adored Amanda Palmer honestly. She was an icon for me, especially in those dark basement madhouse days. In a way she was more meaningful to me than my personal life or my love life (which is saying a lot since I am obsessed with love and romance). There was a strength to her, an individuality to her – I felt she had hit some kind of personal pinnacle that one must transform into at some point. Because honestly, she had practically invented her own personal beauty that was untouchable as it was her's alone and nobody would ever be able to replicate her ideas, her voice, or that intimate knowing look of love she had in her eyes. When I was feeling very low after my shift as a dishwasher, where the bottom of my work shirt was soaked with greasy food water and I could still hear kitchen noises and rudimentary wasteful exchanges of conversation between servers and hostesses in the front – when my drafty cold basement room was chilly because it was getting to be winter, I felt jealous and rejected and lonely, ashamed and unworthy, and starved and sometimes jittery from the diet pill I would get my hands on at times, when I felt like I had something I needed to say desperately so the world might understand me a bit better, but my racing repetitive thoughts wouldn't let me say anything I hadn't repeated a million times before to uncaring ears, and the past was in shambles and the future looked messy – but I knew I had to live with my heart on my sleeve and also do so cautiously in total contradiction of that since you have to be open to find happiness but closed to avoid pain simultaneously, even as I knew I was surely headed for further self destruction regardless, I quietly promised myself that whatever came of my life, someday I would emit my own form of beauty and I would have that same kind of confidence – and in that confidence I would find inspiration and love and all those things that I had been thoroughly denied for most of my young life.

I also started listening to a lot of Bat For Lashes, Anna Calvi, Cat's Eyes and one song by a group called Future Islands called 'Tin Man' which is extremely strange sounding little tune that was often trapped in my thoughts for days on end.

It was around this time that Whitney and Allison were going to see her mother, Cindy in Deary and they asked if I wanted to ride with. I was assured that I wouldn't see Zack or Sarah. Both of them were elsewhere, it was explained to me. Mostly, I thought it would be interesting to drive out to the old places that I had known when I had been younger. I didn't live that far away from Kendrick and Juliaetta and all the small towns, but Lewiston and Clarkston were much larger towns by comparison and seeing as I had no further business in Kendrick with all of that childhood bitterness always waiting there for me in an attempt to make me relive the fruitless sadness and irredeemable waste of time and energy, since I didn't have a car and the idea of living with my father or being around him made me understandably weary, I never went out there and I just wanted to drive through quickly to see the old territory from the backseat of Whitney's car. I had no interest in seeing Cindy of course.

When we finally arrive there however, Zack's car was in the parking space. Sarah and Zack were indeed at Cindy's. I was embarrassed among many things. This meant I couldn't go in, meaning I would have to sit outside and freeze – which I would much rather do than be in Sarah and Zack's presence ever again. Sarah had responded to very few of my emails, and we sometimes wouldn't even say hi during our work shifts. I hesitated to say Sarah was not my friend, and perhaps she felt the same. How did this even happen? In a million years I could not have predicted these events would come to pass. And now I wouldn't even go into a house when it was blizzardy and cold outside on the count that Sarah and Zack were both in there.

I pretended things were okay. I hummed 'Tin Man' to myself outside the cold dark rural nothingness of nightfall in Deary. The silence was deafening. I wasn't really mad. I just wished I had been better informed. And I was nervous and cold. Ten long aching minutes of anticipation and silence went by, when suddenly I heard the familiar and slightly heartbreaking tone of Sarah saying 'hi Renee', behind me. I swiftly turned around and Sarah stood at the trailer porch, four months pregnant. She looked down at me where I was standing in the gravel driveway with an odd amount of care. She was happy to see me. I immediately apologized for showing up. I knew we both agreed not to be around one another, and I particularly didn't want to be around her or Zack and this was just one big misunderstanding that I felt I need to apologize for  having come along with Whitney and Allison. She didn't seem particularly bothered, and mostly felt sorry that I was sitting out in the cold car on account of it. She got me an extra jacket to wear and in a rare and unexpected move, she gave me a hug. Which made me feel weak and sad and confused. It almost seemed to me like she sympathized with my situation more than she sympathized with herself, but being that was the case, why was she going through with all this? Why did she want to be with Zack at all? If she was on my side, then why wasn't she on my side?

An hour and a half later Whitney and Allison came back to the car and we drove back to Clarkston.

At work there was this new guy in the kitchen named Chanse, slightly pudgy, with glasses and a soft boyish face that seemed caring in a vacant annoying sort of way, and he had this way of touching me all the time – which he went out of his way to do often, or to compliment my appearance and intense eye contact, which can sometimes feel like being touched. I had gotten used to the touchiness of working with various different personalities in a kitchen, but Chanse was always touching me when I reacted coldly to it. It was known to him and to everyone that I was somewhat flirtatious but also kind of standoffish and slightly rough with guys when they tried to one up me. And I guess it was hard for me to deal with because I wasn't used to being touched and I have always been a very susceptible, sensitive and sometimes brazenly insecure human being. Touching means something to me. I struggle with casual hugging, and it's an admitted weakness that I can't seem to overcome. I guess what I was struggling to understand was what his intentions were ultimately. Was he touching me because he was just a touchy person and he was trying to be friendly? Or was he doing so to be perverted.. years of little exposure to people in my own age made it very hard for me to understand how to follow social cues. After I caught him staring at my chest, and the amount of intimacy  he spent putting my collar in the right place once as he walked passed me in the dish pit made me assume that he was touching me was likely his way of flirting.

It really affected me though. I guess  because nobody in my entire adult life aside from Sarah had ever just broken those boundaries with me and hugged me, or patted my shoulder or fixed my collar or a button on my shirt. I always took the natural avoidance people gave of me to mean that whatever gross unlovable thing I knew to be true of myself in the inside was probably transparent to people on the outside more than I even realized, and I was like a water hole that had been poisoned and the deer would never drink from it. People knew to steer clear of me. I didn't like Chanse very much, though I didn't hate him as much as I sometimes pretended to either – I could get in very quiet contemplative moods alone in the dish pit and when he came in to flirt with me or talk to me, I would play the reluctant brat, but I would be happy to have some company among the echoing pipes and dishes. It was hard to talk through these things out loud with people without trying to explain the parts that bothered me and the parts that didn't. Because when I talked to Josh or Allison about it, it just seemed to translate that I was being sexually harassed and I didn't like it. Which was partly true, but what bothered me was how it sort of confused me emotionally. I was so cut off from people. Being hugged felt nice. But I didn't want to be hugged by Chanse – I thought he was more than a little dull. But maybe I needed a hug so badly by this point it didn't even matter if some gross kitchen oaf hugged me or the guy of my dreams.  

Josh had never given me a hug before. Josh was very cold inside. I had never received more meaningful eye contact in my life, or had as a reflective and disturbing conversation as I had ever had with anyone else, and in Josh's way he might have been one of the most intimate people I knew. He knew how to get inside my head. But he wouldn't touch people except Whitney, and it didn't seem natural or good somehow. I thought it was intriguing how Josh wouldn't touch people. It was almost like he had to make up for it by being socially one on one intimate. So when I talked to Josh, and we stared into one another's eyes for several seconds straight and we talked about meaningful things that brought out the vulnerability in me – which hadn't really happened quite yet, I would sometimes go to bed feeling like I had just cuddled with someone for hours, but Josh and I never touched. So I guess I took on that same role as Josh. You intimately touch people with your thoughts and with your words and with your eyes. You never touch them physically – and I guess you just create this insane emotional tension till someone breaks. I thought the notion of making people love you without touching them was fascinating. It was probably the power I wanted in these given situations more than it was love, though I wanted Josh to break somehow. It was something that most of my female friends in high school wouldn't have begun to understand. It was certainly outside the bounds of being understood by my family, or by most people for that matter, maybe the baser sexual nature of a lot of men especially might alienate them from what I suddenly became intrigued by.

So I guess when Chanse touched me, I felt powerless. And in that powerlessness I felt like a child. I was beginning to be able to look at my life's damage in the past tense and see that I was a very fragile and broken girl. I didn't have a lot of experience in anything, and perhaps I never would at this point. I was twenty two and still a virgin, I'd never been kissed. And I resented that since Chanse wasn't someone I actually felt fondly towards and he was breaking boundaries that perhaps he didn't think of as boundaries. But they were for me. And if I told him to stop directly, it would be admitting that I was naive and him touching my shoulder was far more for me than it was for him, and good lord this was a fucking dishwashing job and he was a gross kitchen boy and I shouldn't even have to worry about this at all, and I didn't want everyone to know that I didn't have those same natural boundaries and comfort zones as everyone else. I'd talk to someone about this too, only if I explained that I liked being hugged on some level, that my oxytocin levels but didn't really actually like Chanse at all and felt repulsed at the same time, they would have just looked at me blankly and made fun of me and said I had a crush. Which wasn't true. It wasn't like that. So I just pretended he was more of a predator than he was to cover my tracks. And at the same time, my insecure ego wanted to control Chanse, and/or perhaps any other fool who got into my zone. I didn't want to go around having sex with anyone, I didn't really want to ruin anyone's lives. I just wanted that adoration and I having never been really admired before I wanted to know what it felt like to control the opposite sex.

Somehow I got roped into Christmas at my mother's, even after Thanksgiving had been the disaster it had been. My mother had manically been making cookies for days, of every variety imaginable, and in my own manic nervousness, I ate so many cookies that I gained eight pounds in two days – all in cookies I am fairly sure. I felt angry and sick with myself when I got home. Maria was there, and her sons were at their worst. My mother was screaming at everyone. Maria was screaming. Eventually there was crying and accusations. Maria didn't think she was given enough of course. The police were called to tell us to keep it down which helped for maybe an hour. In my family I am very outgoing and foolishly I sometimes try to be the diplomat between people – which always turns into a bloodsport for both parties to come after me instead. It's partly why I hate people I think. I always foolishly believe that being civil and diplomatic and constructive and caring will make things work, and it's not what a lot of people want. I end up getting taken advantage of. It gets tiring and sometimes I feel a bitterness coming on and I have to shut my bedroom door for awhile and find new reasons to try again.

At some point Ian was really acting horrendous so I hugged him to give him the positive attention rather than the negative attention  he craved. It didn't work. He started breaking stuff and hurting the other kids. Maria wanted to ruin the Christmas we were having due to some malice and jealousies she had for everyone in the family. She believed we all owed her. She encouraged Ian to do more bad stuff. Meanwhile, David was in the corner, nervous agitated and serious. I was 'lucky' I guess to be allowed to be there at all, considered he hated me with a passion still. I knew it was only a matter of time before David reacted violently, maybe to anyone who got in his way. He was shaking and upset. So I got fed up and told Maria she wasn't needed at the gathering if she was intent on ruining everything and making it worse. Maria's eyes melted in sorrow and tears when I said that, and I felt like a total bitch. There was no winning. So the kid's mom went home in tears and everyone saw me as 'the bad guy' who threw their mother out in the street. Ian was out of his mind with nervous bad intent, and he ended up freaking out and running away out in the snow in the streets of Lewiston through the back window. Being as he was a very small seven or eight year old boy, and it was freezing and snowy outside, we had to call the police on Christmas day.. the second time the police came to our house.

The cops found Ian running outside with no shoes on, but they didn't take him in their car and deliver him to us. Instead they just pointed to the direction of the house and told him to get back where he belonged. David was a nervous wreck at this point and him and my mother were at it, so he went out to take a walk to cool down and get away from everyone. He was often times picked on by the police, partly because of his history with being a problem in school and partly due to the fact that he had black clothing on all the time and we were in a very redneck area of the world where 'goths' are seen as threats (though wearing all black is not really goth). So David was walking and minding his own business, and the police decided that he was a threat so they picked him up and put him in their car and questioned him about why he was walking on Christmas day, and didn't believe him when he told him he was just walking for the sake of walking. They couldn't charge him with anything so they eventually just drove him back to the apartments and told him that he wasn't allowed to leave, something else they can't do. So the police came to our house three times that day. Three fucking times. And I think it's strange that they criminalized David, who was no saint but was doing nothing wrong - only taking a walk by himself on the public sidewalks in daylight but wouldn't pick up eight year old Ian who was out in the cold far from the house with no shoes on. I realize there is a spectrum in regards to quality police enforcement and there are 'good cops' out there, as if anything is that simple, but the lack of professionalism and the unfair targeting of police even just in my personal life has made me rather mistrustful and doubtful of their 'goodness'.

That ended up being the worst Christmas to date. Allison and I were crying when we went home. I had a lot of weight to lose – another six weeks it took to get back on track, and in my attempt to maintain order I had pissed off everyone, though I was getting pretty used to the feeling by then. Fortunately we had a slightly happier Christmas with Josh and Whitney the next day. It was the Madhouse Christmas I suppose. It didn't come to much. We had a small tree. We just opened gifts we had made for one another. I got Whitney a glass jellyfish. I painted Allison Jens Lekman and I don't remember what else I got her but it was something. Josh I bought this very special little decorative item which was a skeleton a computer desk. Josh didn't like décor, but this skeleton had his likeness and his essence. His eyes lit up with love when he saw it. Josh loved things that pertained to himself. And it was an awesome skeleton figurine. I knew I had gotten him his favorite thing. I could see a special warmth in his eyes of happiness when he looked at me thankfully. Everyone on the planet wants to feel understood. This gift implied that I understood him. I wasn't just going through the motions of buying a thing for Christmas.

That New Years of 2011 was our last real party as the original Madhouse gang. Finally that painful year of change was over. Melissa came down and there was one last party with Melissa, Josh and Whitney and us Sanborn girls. I was talked into drinking a little bit of whiskey and coke. I was extremely hesitant, fearful that the first gulp would cause me to become so intoxicated I would black out (I was not aware of how strong or weak alcoholic beverages might potentially be). It made me tipsy, but I remember feeling that the illusion of separateness that always was particularly strong with me seemed to grow dimmer. I felt more at one with everyone, I relaxed a little and let go. I wasn't totally out of my mind either. Admittedly, I really enjoyed the feeling. That brittle and painful grip that my over analytical and fearful and stubborn need to be separate seemed less intense. I felt like I could move and speak without permission from ten different people inside my head. And even seeing Josh pining over Whitney (who had someone new in mind but I wasn't sure who that was yet), didn't even make me jealous. All of these things that were taking place were so petty and temporary. Nobody was thinking about the big picture except for me. I could build something better and was in the process of doing just that. Josh would realize sooner rather than later. He was pretty smart in that way. And I would make him fall in love with me. That was the goal. But more importantly I realized that I wanted to be his friend. I wanted to build a life that would last for myself. And I was tired of being in love with people who I wasn't friends with. It seemed kind of vital to any kind of relationship you have in life – being a friend.

My New Year's resolution that year was that despite everyone in our way, Josh would become my best friend. I sealed the deal in my thoughts carefully, and I sent it off into the universe of the world. And I quietly and patiently plotted about what would happen next.

PART 108 - https://tinyurl.com/y8n3xvnb

PART 107 - https://tinyurl.com/y8uyusr7

PART 106 - https://tinyurl.com/ycqhlqsy

PART 105 - https://tinyurl.com/ybjvm23b

PART 104 - https://tinyurl.com/yauo5f78

PART 103 - https://tinyurl.com/yblwsv3p

PART 102 - https://tinyurl.com/yc5m3cq7

PART 101 - https://tinyurl.com/yafyhse2

PART 100 - https://tinyurl.com/ycvye2n4

My Life Story in Chapters, PARTS 1-100 (this link below will lead you to a list of all the chapters i have written thus far).

http://aleatoryalarmalligator.tumblr.com/post/168782771574/life-story-sections-1-100

[witchxng]

I’ve had a bunch of new followers lately, so I wanted to do a get to know the blogger tag!

1. What have you eaten today?

I had eggs and fruit for breakfast, and I’m making a salad for lunch rn

2. Who was your last kiss with? Was it pleasant?

It was with my ex, and it was delightful, but thinking about it makes me sad

3. What color shoes did you last wear?

Black, big surprise there

4. Who has made you laugh the hardest in the last week?

My best friend, Kaelyn!

5. What is your favorite scent?

Pine needles

6. What is your favorite season? Why?

Autumn, it is so beautiful

7. Can you do a handstand or cartwheel?

Neither, nope!

8. What color are your nails?

They are currently baby blue

9. If you had to get a tattoo on your face to save your life, what would it be?

I would get a crescent moon, I kind of want that anyway ha

10. What is something you find romantic?

Long walks at dusk

11. Are you happy?

I think so

12. Is there anything in particular making you happy or sad?

Adding to my crystal collection always makes me extra happy!

13. Dogs or Cats?

Cats!!!

15. Which do you prefer:a museum, a night club, the forest or a library?

The forest, I identify as a green witch!

15. What is your style?

Witchy :)

16. If you could be doing anything you like right now, what would it be?

I would be in a cottage in the woods, working on an altar

17. Are you in a relationship or single?

Single

18. What makes you attracted to the person you like right now?

He’s nice to me at work, but that’s about it. Super high standards, ha.

19. If you could replace your partner/best friend with a celebrity of your choice, would you? Who with?

Hell no

20. Are you holding on to something you need to let go of? If so then what? 

I’m holding on to a lot of resentment and regret, I hope I can let it go soon

21. How did you celebrate last Halloween?

Did some tarot readings and handed out candy to the kids!

22. Have you recently made any big decisions? 

Not really, life has been pretty mundane

23. Were you ever in a school play?

No, I was always too shy in school

24. What movie would you use to describe your life?

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

25. Is there something you have dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven’t you done it?

I’ve dreamed of owning my own flower shop, but you know, money

26. Complete this sentence, “I wish I had someone with whom I could share…”

I wish I had someone with whom I could share my passions with

27. What are two things that irritate you about the same sex?

Girls can be very catty, and superficial

28. What are two things that irritate you about the opposite sex?

Boys can be very rude, and aggressive

29. What is the best thing that has happened to you this week?

My aunt found out she is pregnant!

30. What is something that makes you sad when you think about it?

Oh, there are a lot of things.  Thinking about how I can barely afford rent is currently making me sad.

31. How long was your longest relationship?

A year and a half

32. Have you ever been in love?

Yes, I miss it

33. Are you currently in love?

I don’t think so

34. Why did your last relationship end?

A lot of reasons. He was mean to me, he found someone new, I didn’t make him happy.  The list goes on.  It was a mess.

35. What jewelry are you wearing right now, and where did you get it?

I’m wearing an amethyst pendant that I got off of etsy, and a couple rings I’ve gotten from different craft fairs!

36. When was the last time you cried and why?

Yesterday, because of Jacob ha

37. Name someone pretty.

I think Emma Watson is so pretty

38. What did you receive last Valentines Day?

Sunflowers and a very sweet note

39. Do you get jealous easily?

Unfortunately, yes

40. Have you ever been cheated on?

Again, unfortunately, yes 41. Do you trust your partner/best friend?

I don’t currently have a partner, but I trust my best friend with my life

42. Ever had detention?

I did fairly often in high school, I was a little shit

43. Would you rather live in the countryside or the city?

COUNTRYSIDE

44. What do people call you? 

Hannah, Han, Anna, Hannah Banana, Han Solo

45. What was the last book you read? 

The Book Thief! It was so good!

46. How big of a nerd/dork are you? 

The biggest nerd

47. What kind of music do you listen to?

I like indie/acoustic music!!!

48. How tall are you?

5′3″, I’m a shrimp ha

49. Do you like kids?

I like babies, but kids stress me out

50. Favorite fruits?

All of the above, ha. My top favorite though is pineapple.

51. Do you wear jeans or sweats more?

Black jeans :)

52. What’s your earliest memory?

Running around my grandma’s yard during the spring

53. Ever had a poem or song written about you or to you?

I wish! That would so romantic

54. Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

Behind it, I am so shy

55. Do you have a collection of anything? 

I have too many collections!  Crystals, tarot cards, shells, postcards, and pressed flowers are my biggest collections

56. Do you save money or spend it? 

I try to save when I can, but I have so many expenses to keep up with

57. What would your dream house be like?

Tiny cottage in the woods, covered in ivy with a wildflower garden (I’m a basic witch, I know)

58. What top 5 things make you the angriest?

Animal abusers, people who litter, bigots, people with no respect, out of touch wealthy people

59. What top 5 things always brings a smile to your face? Witchcraft :), my best friend, cats, rainstorms, good movies

60. You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

Save the dog, every time

61. 72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

I would tell only those closest to me, I would spend my remaining days do whatever I really wanted to do that day, and I wouldn’t be afraid at all.

62. Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

December 7th

63. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

I’m going to Salem!!!

64. Do you like the beach?

I do!

65. Ever sleep on the couch or a bed with someone special?

I used to all of the time.  I miss it, I hate sleeping alone.

66. Do you have a middle name? If so what is it!

It is Amelia!

67. Do you talk to yourself?

All of the time, I probably look crazy

68. Describe your hair.

Shoulder length, fading from box dye blue to an ashy gray

69. What is the meaning of life.

The meaning of life is to live

70. What is your ideal partner like?

Kind, faithful, funny, passionate, and supportive.

71. Do you want to get married?

Maybe one day, if I can find the right person

72. Do you want to have kids?

I don’t think so

73. Like or dislike your family?

They try their best, but my family is dysfunctional and it can be hard to get along with them

74. Are you Chunky or Slim?

A lil chunky

75. Would you consider yourself smart? 

I would say yes

76. What would you change about your life? 

My financial situation, ha

77. Religious or Not?

I’m a practicing wiccan!

78. You’re drunk and yelling at hot guys/girls out of your car window, you’re with?

My best friend, Kaelyn!  She’s the outgoing/outspoken one between the two of us

79. You’re locked in a room with the last person you kissed, is that a problem?

It would be a HUGE problem, I don’t think Jacob and I can be in the same room anymore

80. Does anyone regularly (other than family) tell you they love you?

Kaelyn does :)

81. If the person you wish to be with were with you, what would you be doing right now?

We would be in his car, parked somewhere late at night, and just talking and laughing

82. So, the last person you kissed just happens to arrive at your door at 3AM; do you let them in?

My better judgement would say no, but I know I would always let him in

83. Do you like when people play with your hair? 

YES

84. Do you like bubble baths?

I do, but I like oil baths better!

85. Have you ever been pulled over by a cop?

Yes, I drive way too fast :X

86. Have you ever danced in the rain?

I try to whenever I can

87. Do you trust anyone with your life?

I trust Kaelyn with anything and everything

88. What was your first thought when you woke up this morning?

“I want to go back to bed”

89. If money wasn’t an issue, what top 10 places would you travel to? (You get to stay at each place for a week) 

Salem, Paris, Dublin, Yosemite, Amsterdam, Brussels, Montreal, Sicily, Switzerland, London

90. How was your day today?

It’s been alright, just kind of boring to be honest

91. Play an instrument? 

I used to play clarinet in school

92. Describe the what you think of the ocean.

It is breathtaking

93. Do you believe in aliens or ghosts?

Both!!!

94. Honestly, are things how you wanted them to be? 

NOPE

95. Do you have a mean bitchy scary side?

No, I’m a big softie

96. When are you vulnerable?

Um all of the time ha

97. How much free time do you have?

I work two jobs, so not much

98. Do you like to go hiking?

Absolutely!

99. Odd or Even Numbers?

Odd 100. Would you ever go sky diving, bungee jumping , cliff diving, wing suit gliding, parasailing, snorkeling, or other extreme activities?

Yes to all of the above!

TAG 15 FOLLOWERS TO DO THE GET TO KNOW THE BLOGGER TAG:

@woodland-lullaby @mysticnymphmagic @lookingforsummerland @floofypeach @forest-elf @shethinksoutsidethebox @pop-punk-dre @sugarmoonwitch @forgetmehots @meishallaneous @grimlilli @paganomicon @basil-witch @throwinstonesnc @starlightorchestra 

[thedragonlover]

4. "i'm too sober for this" and 11. Dear diary wish you the best day!!! 🌻❤

aaaaaAAAAA THANK YOU

Evidence I can be a dumb: I reblogged that and didn’t even think about the fact that replying to asks about this would mean I’d have to post my writing on tumblr… is it weird that I got a little nervous? Considering I normally just write what I feel like and have uploaded lots of my work elsewhere.ahaha ignore meeee

I’ll write for MM because, hell, it’s cute and I feel like cute today okay not at all because you’re a MM blog and wanted a good chance you’d like reading what I wrote

just beware because I swear bunches and am writing this for giggles, and also I’ve never written for this fandom be gentle

4. “I’m too sober for this.”(Where MC isn’t paired with anyone, but you’ve still had the party and finally met the RFA face-to-face. Trying to avoid spoilers for anyone who hasn’t completed particular routes.)

.

It was a small get-together - just you and the RFA members meeting up for a nice celebratory dinner. It was a shame that V couldn’t make it, but he was grateful for the invitation. You were so relieved to have helped make the party a success, although you didn’t want to take a lot of credit. Everyone chipped in and put in so much hard work that, really, it made you proud to be a member of such a wonderful, kind of dysfunctional family.

Then you all sat down.

Zen got pretty defensive when Jumin commented on this “commoner establishment.”

This was a place that you had picked out, have some respect; don’t worry that it doesn’t meet his ridiculous standards, he’s just a stupid trust fund kid; babe, he’s calling me shallow, I’m too handsome to be anything like that materialistic bastard!

At this point, you were waiting for them to start pulling on each other’s pigtails to fuel all of the fanfiction people were writing about them. You very pointedly suggested seats that put them far enough to avoid physical violence. “No glaring at the dinner table.” They still continued to provoke each other, but at that point you’re glad they’re not making a scene.

No, you wouldn’t let Yoosung play a handheld at the table. Mostly because you forgot yours and wanted him to suffer with you. You said that talking with everyone can be fun too.

“Well… playing video games with everyone would be even better!”

For the love of…

“Especially when I wreck you,” Seven snickered, poking Yoosung’s face.

Of course he took the bait. “What?! No way, I’ll totally own you! Name the game and the time!”

“Mario Kart, an hour before your curfew, you cute widdle baby~” You hadn’t realized a person could literally talk in tildes, and then there was Seven.

“You’re barely older than me!”

Oops, maybe Jumin and Zen weren’t the only ones who needed to be separated.

You told them you’d wreck them both decided to be the adult here.

But, that’s right! Jaehee was here! This woman was a godsend, able to wrangle the most intimidating of business reports into submission! And she knew judo? Hell yeah! You could count on everything remaining under control with this badass at the helm!

…she looked so exhausted though. That’s right, it had taken a lot of convincing (both for her and Jumin) to escape paperwork hell. And you were going to enlist her help in babysitting all of these dorks? Oh, you couldn’t do that to this poor soul. Mama Jaehee needed a night off too.

“I don’t understand why we are eating here. I have chefs at home who would cook whatever dish you desired.”

“I swear, every time you open your mouth, I have to ask myself whether going to jail is worth it! It gets harder each time!”

“Ohoho, that’s what she said~”

“Seven, come on, that one’s not even clever…”

“Clever girl~”

“Don’t.”

Jumin was describing the fancier, more expensive lunch he had earlier that day with Elizabeth the 3rd. Zen was trying to ignore him, caught a waitress’ eye across the restaurant, and nearly made her run into a doorframe with a smile-wink-combo. Yoosung was “sneakily” playing his game under the table, and you let him because he promised to give you a turn. You didn’t notice Seven had stolen everyone’s napkins to make origami cats until his army was being sent to capture the entire table.

When your order was finally taken you asked if someone would drive you home later, and after being offered cars and a rocketship and even a piggyback ride, it’s Jaehee that inquired, “But, why do you ask?”

“I’m too sober for this.”

“Ah,” she responded. Then she added a drink to her order too. “Same,” she thought.

Zen is all for this development! “Well, you can count me in, babe. I just hope you don’t get too handsy with me, or I won’t be able to contain the beast…” Cue more winking.

Deadpan, Jumin responded, “Are you rabid? A beast that presents a safety hazard to society should be put down.”

“Wahh,” Yoosung cut in, “can we please not talk about putting down animals?!”

“Yeah!” Seven stood up. “Don’t! Talk about! Sad things! Around! The baby!” And he clapped for each pause, this man was a living breathing meme and there was no stopping him. So much for not making a scene.

As Yoosung argued about not being a baby, Jaehee accepted the wine glass handed her and downed it in one go. Zen was impressed. And he wasn’t going to be outdone, but then he started choking.

“Children,” she muttered.

“Yeah,” you agreed, an exasperated smile growing. “But they’re all my children, so.”

What a wonderful, dysfunctional family you had.

When Seven tried to ruin the moment with Bee movie quotes, you told them all, “But if you guys don’t cut the shit out, I swear to god I’m going to hang out with that Unknown guy because at least he seems to have some chill.”

“What the fuck,” Unknown blurted out, hiding in a nearby ficus.

11. “Dear Diary, …”

.

The moment you heard Seven start cackling, you knew you were going to regret inviting him over.

Regret turned to horror when he began, voice loud and singsong, “ ‘Dear Diary, today I actually cleaned up the apartment!’ ”

He was standing in your living room, on your sofa, with his shoes on, reading out of your personal diary, and you didn’t even care if you didn’t get away with his murder.

“ ‘But! Hold your applause! Because I also… put on people clothes! And I look pretty damn fine, if I do say so myself–’ ”

You lunged. He leapt over the back, whooping with glee. The chase was on!

Once you managed to convince him to skirt around the couch, you tried to leap over it just as dramatically, and faceplanted - thankfully on the cushions, but still, that hurt your dignity. And then he was sitting on your back, effectively preventing you from getting up and clobbering him.

“Seven! Get off!”

“ 'I hope you’re not a police officer, Diary, because I’ve got Fine written all over me!’ Aww, there’s even a little winkie face! Ooh, is that a list of pick-up lines I see? Were you waiting to use these on little ol’ me?”

“Seven, I mean it–”

“ 'You must be Jamaican, because Jamaican me crazy.’ Ooh, that one’s old but gold.”

“SEVEN, I’M GOING TO KILL YOU–”

“ 'Are you religious? Because you’re the answer to all my prayers.’ Ah, I’m swooning! Take me, MC, I’m yours!”

With a full-body heave, you launched the man off of you and into the coffee table. It broke. Thankfully, you wouldn’t have to worry about paying V back for breaking it if you were locked away for second-degree murder.

“They’re pick-up lines, not throw-down lines–ouch!”

“Give it back!”

“Ahh, don’t hurt me, master! OW okay that one really hurt.”

“Then stop being a brat and let go–”

“And lose this comedic gold? God Seven will never let this go! I must spread this gospel!”

“AGH I’M NOT YOOSUNG OKAY I WILL END YOU!”

Some time later, after you’d reclaimed your property and handled the irritated police officer called out from noise complaints, Seven came out of your kitchen to find you still pouting on the sofa.

“I hate you,” you moaned.

“Your complaint has been filed and sent to God Seven, and–” He lifted his arms to form an “x” in front of him, declaring, “Hate denied! You must forgive him and smile!”

“Not a chance.”

“Come onnnn…”

“Go away.”

He brought a hand to his chin, as if contemplating a serious matter. Eventually, he nodded several times to himself, then made a pose he had literally ripped from the anime you two were watching earlier.

“Then you leave me no choice! I will have to use… my secret weapon!”

You arched an eyebrow.

Grinning, he sang, “You can come with me to see Elly~”

“…are you suggesting I join you in hacking through Jumin’s security, sneaking past all of his bodyguards, and breaking into his home, to pet his cat?”

“Someone sounds interested…”

You stared.

Hard.

“…dammit Seven, why do you know me so well?”

You threw a pillow at him when he mimicked Karin’s pose and laugh from Street Fighter V.

Kind of like how Jumin threw the two of you out that evening. He was seriously considering the restraining order this time.

These got so out of hand so fast ahaha. Hope they’re mildly entertaining?

[nicolewrites]

we are all stars - ii

Part II: wormhole

Rating: G/G+ Genre: Friendship Characters: Lance, Coran Words: 1,337 Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

we are all stars and we are joined by constellations—these lines that connect us that we’ll never see, but we’ll never break. this universe is our home, and someday we’ll return to it as stardust. Voltron one-shot series exploring relationships.

AO3

worm • hole {noun}

- a hypothetical connection between widely separated regions of space-time

It's cold, he mused. His fingers were splayed against the glass of one of the Castle’s many windows. A cool sensation spread from the glass across his hand, slithering up until his sleeve hem along his wrists. Beyond the window, stars twinkled.

Lance tapped against the glass with one finger, feeling the familiar tiny vibrations under his fingertips. This feeling was familiar to him. On Earth, in space, on a foreign planet, inside his Lion—the feeling was always the same. Though being a Paladin had thrown him headfirst into an incredible adventure, it was little moments, like these, that made him feel alive.

These experiences validated it all. Somehow it reassured him that it wasn't all just some wild, crazy dream brought on by a lack of sleep. This chaos was real, the people were real, and the memories were real. He wasn't sure which of those things were scary, and which were cool. Most of them fell somewhere in the grey area in between.

Since he was a little kid, all he wanted to do was fly. The Garrison had finally, finally, been his chance to make that dream happen, but he'd been classed as a cargo pilot and everything had shattered before his eyes. That is, until his mad stroke of luck when Keith was expelled and he earned his fighter class status. Then, of course, meeting Pidge and Hunk, the dynamic and dysfunctional and crazy people who would become his engineer and navigator.

Then there was Shiro, and actually meeting Keith and finding Blue. He couldn't lie, being chosen as the Blue Paladin, the first of their ragtag bunch, was freeing because for once he wasn't the second choice. And he got Blue, and she understood him too. Flying her was like no other craft the Garrison could supply. It was how flying was supposed to feel.

But now, deep in space, where he should be, and he felt a deep ache for Earth. He wanted to speak Spanish and to hear familiar music and voices and to swim in an impossibly warm ocean. He wanted the colourful buildings of Havana and the life and party in Varadero. The cold of the glass stung his fingers and he withdrew them. He wanted to go home.

Lance stepped back from the window and swallowed the lump in his throat. Homesickness wasn't new: he'd been feeling it the entirety of his time at the Garrison. Despite his love of flying, and his love of space and adventure, his first love would always be the salty, warm waters of his teal ocean back home and the family that surrounded him when he was there. Cuba was his anchor, and picturing its sunsets and beautiful days got him through the tougher nightmares.

Just down the hall, the doors slid open with a hiss and Lance’s spine straightened. A muttering voice and shuffling feet entered the corridor and Lance watched Coran approach, completely absorbed in his own thoughts.

The Altean stopped short when he saw Lance. “What are you doing in this part of the Castle, Lance?” Coran asked curiously. “And, so late at night too?”

“Just wandering a little,” he muttered in reply, scuffing his toe against the polished floors. “I couldn't sleep.”

Coran remained silent for a moment, an oddity for him, as he studied Lance. “Well, you ought to try. Any sleep is better than none. And who knows when the Galra will pop up again.” The Altean nodded briskly and turned to walk away down the hallway.

“Coran!” Lance blurted, and the man stopped, turning back curiously. “Do you miss Altea?”

The edges of Coran’s moustache drooped down. “Of course I do. All my friends, my family, and my home were destroyed. I would be crazy not to miss Altea.”

Lance licked his lips nervously. “How do you deal with it? You always seem so happy and committed all the time. When do you, you know, grieve?”

Coran stepped closer to Lance and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Lance m’boy, with something like this, I don't believe you ever stop grieving. It's about taking those feelings, and inputting them into something positive, like fixing the Castle or piloting the Blue Lion. I may not be as transparent as Allura, but I miss my people too.” He gave Lance a sad, yet somehow positive smile.

The Blue Paladin paused. He stared into Coran’s face. The Altean was open and gentle and the hand on his shoulder was warm. Lance was surprised to know how safe, and how fatherly it felt. He offered Coran his own smile, taking the words in with respect.

“Since the question came up, I assume that you're missing your Earth?” Coran asked, removing his hand.

Lance nodded slowly. “On Earth, I come from a country call Cuba. It is so different from where we found the Blue Lion, and I miss it a lot. There were beautiful beaches, and vibrant colours, and water as warm as the air and salty enough to sting.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Coran offered. “It sounds a little like part of Altea. Naturally, we had more technology than you, and more water on our planet, but the planets weren't so different.”

Lance turned away a little and stared out the window again, studying the twinkling stars in the distance. One of them might even be his sun. A tiny smile curled the edges of your lips. “At least I have something to look forward to at the end of all of this.”

“That's the spirit!” Coran encouraged.

Lance paused. “Coran, I am sorry about Altea. I'm sorry you lost your home.”

Coran nodded. “I am sorry too: for everyone on Altea, for Allura, and for myself. I'm not sure we quite anticipated that our world would have changed so much in the time we slept.”

“You did sleep for 10,000 years,” Lance pointed out.

“That is true,” Coran agreed. “At least this way, we met the destined Paladins, including yourself. Really, you all have helped lessen the blow of losing Altea, I assure you.”

The man pulled a ticker out of his pocket and checked the time. Lance stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, picking gently at threads inside them, and curled his toes into his shoes. He studied Coran, staying completely silent, and waiting for what seemed like an appropriate lead into the next part of the conversation.

“I think, Lance, I have something that might help with your homesickness,” Coran offered suddenly. “Follow me.”

The Altean spun and walked back the way he had before and Lance scrambled to follow after him. The two walked silently through a few corridors until they reached a part of the Castle that Lance hardly ever visited. Coran picked a door that Lance could hardly make out as it looked like it was a part of the wall and opened it easily. He stepped inside and Lance followed.

His breath hitched. There was some kind of virtual projection going on through the room. He stepped forwards and gaped. Projections of lush green hills and clear blue skies surrounded him. Lance waved his hand through a projection in awe. It looked so real, and he could even smell the clean, fresh air. This place was beautiful, and with a start, he realised that it must have been Altea.

Coran was smiling wistfully at the scene, but he eventually pushed several buttons on a control panel in the wall and the green valley winked out of existence. There were several seconds of darkness before a new scene appeared. Sandy beaches appeared underfoot and the sound of rushing water caught Lance’s attention. The ocean near him was a gorgeous, familiar teal colour and he choked in surprise.

The room had perfectly replicated Cuba, right down to the salty smell on the air. Lance stared, open-mouthed at the simulation of his home. He spun to face Coran, glancing between the engineer and the holograms.

“Thank you,” Lance said earnestly.

Coran smiled.