#guess it works that i fucked up the word fucked (ba dum tss)

[seesboy]

traditional art is simultaneously a million times easier than digital art yet fucks me over so much more. anyways my first formal contribution to the saw community

[whentheynameyoujoy]

So the ATLA Movie Is... Good, Actually?

Just kidding, of course it’s not, it’s so bad it sucked the paint off my walls. But after ten years of people pointing out its glaring flaws, why would anyone bother talking about this garbage heap if not to go the other direction? So here’s a very brief and very superficial list of things the movie does get kinda... not atrociously wrong.

And they won’t be fake hipster pokes, like “It’s fun to laugh at”, “The Rifftrax for this is OK”, or “Kudos to the actress for managing to say we believe in our beliefs as much as they believe in theirs with a straight face”.

(though now that I mentioned it, it is fun to laugh at, the Rifftrax for this is OK, and massive props indeed.)

Rasta Iroh

Yes, I know it’s not exactly the aesthetic of the real Iroh or that it makes no cultural sense for him to sport this do when no one else in the racebended Indian “OMFG what were you thinking Shyamalan” Nation does but goddamn, long-haired dudes are my one mortal weakness and I will ogle the hell out of him.

Jesus is that a man bun I see that’s it mum I’ve been deaded

Yue’s hair

No.

Now we’re talking. Yue’s hair turned white when the Moon spirit gave her life, so it makes sense for it to go black again when she sacrifices herself to revive the koi fish. It’s a neat detail I find myself expecting whenever I rewatch the scene in the show. Yes, I realize it’d be a pointless hassle to animate since she, unlike in the movie, immediately goes on to become the Moon herself but still. I like.

The Blue Spirit’s mop

Zuko, hun, what’s with the dance-off?

First of all, I want to imagine that Zuko the Theatre Nerd was about to leave his ship with just the mask like in the show but then stuck his head into the cleaning cupboard and went, “Yeah, more coverage might be good, even though it do seem mighty fried to shit”.

Which makes me giggle. I like to giggle.

And secondly, the hair’s movement is what makes the static mess of the Blue Spirit’s solo fight scene appear at least bit more dynamic because God knows the cinematography isn’t doing it.

Any particular reason why it’s at the edge of the action, shot all boring-like?

Now, I get why circular shots would be reserved for Aang while he’s in the practice area and then used once the two join forces. What I don’t get is why Aang’s part of the action scene has a defined visual style while Zuko’s delegated to a few stationary wide shots from afar as though he’s a tertiary goon, meaning that when the time comes to combine the respective pieces of cinema language and visually convey collaboration, there’s not really much to combine.

But as long as Zuko is stuck in this static mess, it’s that awesome disaster on his head flopping about that draws the eye, helping me understand that something even is going on over there.

It also prevents me from paying much attention to how the extras are mostly just staying put and a lot of the hits don’t land, so that’s good.

The music slaps

James Newton Howard is too good for this.

Pls ignore that the word “gods” is used in the ATLA universe

I can’t be the only one who constantly uses this piece to daydream about writing specific fanfic scenes instead of, you know, actually sitting down and writing them. It’s just so good at communicating a sense of sorrow while speaking of rebirth that I find myself getting misty-eyed whenever I listen to it. Unfailingly, the soundtrack as a whole manages to break through the mile-thick crust of horrible acting, confusing writing, and uninspired cinematography and make me feel things. And considering how everything on screen is working against it, that’s no small feat.

Imagine what a powerful experience it would be if the score was used in service of an actual movie.

Dev Patel

No wonder since he’s the only one in the film occupying that crucial intersection between “is a good actor” and “was given something to work with”. It also doesn’t hurt that he breaks with the trend of actors starring in martial arts flicks despite never having done any martial art.

And all EIP-jokes about “stiff and humorless” aside, he’s a pretty decent Zuko considering how abridged this version of the character is. A while ago, I remember hearing a reviewer say that with his comedic chops, Patel should have been cast as Sokka. And on one hand, yes, god, absolutely, I need to see that asap. But on the other? He captures all layers of Book 1!Zuko, the desperate obsession, rage, and self-loathing, and at the same time gives you a peek at the soft momma’s boy dork that’s buried underneath. For Christ sakes, he exudes intensity and ambivalence even when acting against an emotionless hunk of wood that’s giving him nothing in return.

Oh, and I guess there’s a tree in the frame.

Ba dum tss

What can I say, the guy’s good.

Showing vs telling

OK, so this movie is all tell and no show, except for one single moment. And it’s the exact moment where the original goes in the other direction in terms of how information is conveyed.

See, I never liked this. The revelation is preceded by Iroh giving advice to Zuko who scolds him for nagging. Iroh then apologizes, moves in to say the line above, and is interrupted by Zuko who seems rather uncomfortable with Iroh laying his feelings out like this. And once they’re out, Zuko verbally confirms that he knew already and Iroh didn’t need to bother.

All this extraneous information and pussyfooting ends up weakening what should be a profound scene that reveals to us, the viewers, how deep the relationship between these two in fact runs.

Compare to the movie where Dadroh acts like a parent by fussing and worrying, with Sonion needing a single look to tell him and us that he understands what it’s all really about.

It’s genuinely efficient and just good.

No Cataang

Fine, a bit mean-girl bitchy from me since I only start minding the ship in Book 3. And probably unintentional on the part of the creators since there are moments where I think they’re trying to set the romance up? There’s a, well, an attempt to recreate the famous introductory shot of fateful meaningful destiny of meaningness, there’s some slight note of saving each other’s bacon going on, I’m pretty sure they’re the only ones in the film who smile, and oh, right, Katara’s shoved into her post-canon useless role where she doesn’t ever do anything, and is all about Aang right from the get go.

Yes, I will blame the “executive producers” because a) I’m incredibly petty, and b) it’s perfectly in line with their vision of the character so why the hell not.

Hilariously, none of it reads on screen because the actors are just... yeah. These poor kids are struggling so much with delivering their own lines and portraying their own characters they don’t seem to have any strength left to create something between them. To be fair, the bare-bones shot-reverse shot style of their scenes doesn’t exactly lend itself to the idea they occupy the same universe, let alone are friends or each other’s crushes.

And I enjoy this immensely because it allows me to forget the depressing horror show Katara’s life turns into post ATLA.

Yes Zutara

I need to delve into this because it’s fucking hilarious. So in a movie which fails to establish the original’s central romance so spectacularly that if Aang got lost in a crowd I don’t believe Katara would notice, SomEOnE thought it’d be a good idea to add an utterly unnecessary non-canon moment where Zuko for some reason feels the need to pause his character-defining hunt for the Avatar which otherwise has him ignore everything and snap at everyone, and explain his central conflict to an unconscious peasant he doesn’t know, complete with gently pushing the hair from the pretty girl’s the soulmate’s the Water Tribe Ambassador’s the Fire Lady’s the love of his life’s her face away, AFTER his uncle nagged him twice to find a girl and settle down.

I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page and this is what we really saw.

Celibate Avatars

I have no idea why the decision was made, if TPTB thought expecting viewers to understand the story through the lens of Buddhism would be too much, or if the “executive producers” already worked their retconny magic. What I do know, however, is that there’s a big shift in worldbuilding and Aang’s struggle with his role as the Avatar stops being a personal conflict defined by a) his grief for Air Nomads, b) his notion of being robbed of the loved ones in his life, and c) the selfish attachment to Katara he confuses with true love. Instead, what he has a difficulty to accept is apparently a general notion of who Avatars are supposed to be, i.e. a fantasy version of Catholic monks, no family and worldly relations, period.

I guess either someone understood the original’s portrayal of de/attachment as “hermit no freaky”, or thought the audience would so why not go there outright.

Now, do I like this on its own? No, God no, it makes the world infinitely poorer and changes the story from an exploration of ideas which aren’t all that ingrained in the West, to a cliché tropester about a Catholic priest going Protestant so that he could be with a girl.

At least I assume that’s where they were going to take this eventually.

I mean, I think the direction was “look conflicted, this isn’t the final stage of your journey”?

But consider this—the show went there, it built on the concepts of Eastern philosophy and touched upon the ideas of spiritual awakening, only to swerve in the end and strongly imply they’re bullshit and Aang should have never wasted his time with them.

So honestly, I much prefer scanty worldbuilding to an insulting retcon by a damn rock.

Multiracial Air Nomads

Probably the most substantial “no hint of irony” point on this list and a genuinely good addition to the universe’s worldbuilding.

See, the notion of the elemental nations being perfectly separate and never mingling before Sozin has always been sketchy but it’s especially ridiculous in the case of airbenders. It never made sense to me for all airbenders to be Air Nomads and for all Air Nomads to be monks and for all monks to be chilling at the temples all the time to facilitate a quick everyone-dies genocide should an imperialistic warlord ever decide to commit one.

Because committing everyone to a single way of life at a handful of places kinda goes against the central philosophy behind airbending. Like the freedom and nomadism part.

Instead, there should be more variety to the airbending culture, with some staying at the temples as monks, hermits, and teachers while others live as nomads, travelling the world and creating more airbenders, with the resulting children in turn being influenced by the non-airbending cultures they grew up in.

And thus, not only should airbenders not be modeled after a single culture to create a one-size-fits-all lifestyle, but they should have the most diverse and dynamic culture out of the four nations.

And it’d be precisely this diversity which would pave way for an eventual reveal that some of them survived, that their complete extermination is impossible.

Because they’re everywhere.

You know.

Like air.

[quwarichi]

My reactions+summaries for SPN S5-15 PT.3:

Supernatural Episodes (that were memorable to me):

Currently: S15E20

[Disclaimer: these were written as I was watching each episode for the first time. It’s literally my brain vomit. Let it be known that I watched the series from season 1 but only around season 5 it occured to me that I might want to remember some episodes, so this was created. I am a pretty big destiel shipper, but it only shows here when I absolutely can’t contain myself. You can enjoy my reactions without shipping them. HAVE AT IT]

Seasons 14-15:

S14:     

S14E01: Hey look Dean has a funny hat now. Haha. And that's the only thing different. Oh wait where did the plaid go? Guess he burned his clothes in an accident and changed into something nearby. Alright. OH WAIT WHERE DID DEAN GO. Sam is tired. Jack is learning how to fight from Bobby. Good on him. Castiel is suffering. A demon knows more about Destiel than Cas does *wink wink* Bless that demon. Give him a raise for the wonderful words he said. Praise. Scratch that he just started a demon gang fight against Cas fuck them up good Cas don't leave survivors. Stop beating Castiel up you know he's taking it easy on you otherwise all of you would be fried chickens. "Sister Jo" is back in business. [Side note: Jensen and Daneel shooting this scene together had me dying the writers did that on purpose]. Michael visits Anael. Jack is sad. Cas is hurt. Lucifer is alive. Oh wait it's Nick. Why is Nick. How is Nick. Nick is pretty understanding and nice. Nick. Hm. The demons got Cas how dare they you fuckers, you motherfuckers I WiLL rAiN hElL FiRE UPoN yOu. Sam is sad and missing Dean. Mary is too. Sam should have hidden the knife in his hair. Cas is embarrassed. Jack gets caught. The demon wants to replace Crowley. How dare he. Awesome action scene. Keep expecting Dean to show up and beat someone up. Cas and Sam miss Dean. Cas and Jack talk about losing their powers. Sam misses Dean. Michael helps monsters now?

S14E02: Hey look Michael's a dick who knew. Srsly fuck him. Cas can't help and is sad. He is also a babysitter to Satan's former vessel and Satan's child. Is Jack Nick's sort-of son or is that taking it too far? Questions for later. Lucifer is now the Supreme Agent of Evil. Cas is sassy. Jack is adorable and needs hugs. Cas is trying to be nice to Nick. Nick is suffering. Castiel feels different. He feels like he matured and grown a lot. Like he's more at peace with himself. He says that when he Fell he still had Sam and Dean which is so adorable. Cas gives Jack a beautiful talk. Michael is wearing a tux, which looks great on Dean but horrible on him. Dean yells at him to get out. Nick is sad and still has Lucifer instincts. Nick is sadder now. He wants his family back. Cas is amazing in this episode. Kudos, truly. He just admits he understands Nick's situation because he occupies Jimmy's vessel. Woah. Nick just said Castiel is a body-snatcher and he's no different than Lucifer. How dare he. How DARE YOU. CASTIEL HAS BEEN NOTHING BUT KIND TO YOU. HE TRIED TO BE CALM. HE TRIED EXPLAINING AND SYMPATHIZES WITH YOU AND YOU GO AND CALL HIM THAT. WHY. JUST... WHY??? CAS STILL FEELS AWFUL FOR WHAT HAPPENED TO JIMMY AND HIS FAMILY. HE NEVER WANTED THAT. FUCK YOU NICK. GET YOUR ACT TOGETHER. Jack went to visit his grandparents can he get any more adorable I mean OH MY CHUCK LOOK AT HIM. He tells them Kelly had a baby boy and they're so HAPPY HIJFKDHDUHEJDUDH. Jack dear I know you just met your family and you're emotional but saying Dean doesn't matter is like a death sentence in the fandom so tread lightly. Nick is channeling his inner Lucifer. Dean is BACK BABY.

S14E03: Dean doesn't NOT like Sam's beard. Jack, Cas, and Dean reunite. Jack likes Disney confirmed. A girl asked Jack if Cas is his dad and he says Cas is one of his dads OMG OMG OMG. Jack is heartbroken he couldn't help the girl and Cas feels awful for him. Honestly Cas has been through so much lately and he didn't even get the chance to hug Dean when he came back. Jack saved Lora. Cas apologies to Jack. Bless Cas. He's a freaking Angel. Cas is so freaking adorable and he's such a dad for Jack and they're like hey dad hey son and omg omg omg gaaaaaaaaah they're adorable. He's making Jack SOUP. FREAKING SOUP. Something's wrong with Jack why are you coughing blood no no no no no bad blood.

S14E04: Dean likes horror movies now. Sam's beard is gone. Dean's inner fanboy is coming out. It's one of these episodes. Sam is so excited. Dean is fangirling. DEAN IS IN GLASSES PART 3 OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG. Fortnight has unfortunately bled into the Supernatural universe and we have to live with that fact now. Dean is, fortunately, a Zelda fan so we're good on that front. Sam is a nerd. Dean is concerned. Sam meets his female counterpart. Sam has trauma from Halloween. Dean wants to have Halloween with Sam so badly awwwww.

S14E05: Dean and Sam run into Bobby and Mary. Sam is nervous about talking to his mom about her dating life. Bobby and Mary are sort of a thing now and Dean is okay with that. He just wants his mom to be happy.

S14E06: Sam and Charlie are very awkward. Hooray. Jack is suffering because his coffee doesn't taste right. Sam looks so happy playing with a fidgetspiner. Jack and Dean are being Hunting Buddies ™. Jack just learned what courting before dating before sex is and Dean is not happy or comfortable about that conversation. Other Dimension Charlie had a love of her life but she died. Jack asks Dean about courting over pie and it's adorable. Dean says that when they get back to the bunker he'll give Jack the talk. Hooray! Jack and Dean play the "bad cop, hero saves the damsel" plan and it works fantastic. Jack calls Dean old and Dean looks so offended it actually hurt him OMG. Some girl has a crush on Jack now. Jack is very confused. Hunter!Jack is very awkward and adorable. Is Jack on a date? I think he's on a date. Is he even allowed to go on dates yet? Dean didn't give him the talk. Hm. What would Cas think? And Sam, Sam would be very confused about it too. Hm. Definitely sensing some romance in the air. Approving of that. Oh BOI SOMETHING IS ABOUT TO GO DOWN. Oh wait of course not Jack was raised by Cas who are we fooling of course he wanted to use the bathroom. Dean calls Jack and he's like "Hey so I'm pretty sure she's in love with me so tell me everything you know about sex. Go!" Dean is not having ANY OF THAT BS RN. Vans? Vans! Vans. Dear lord Jack should get an acting award *ba-dum-tss*. Dean be giving out relationship advice like he's some sort of expert when in reality his emotions are so constipated he needs to swallow Dulcolax to communicate with others. Jack has a crazy fan now. He follows in Sam's footsteps and got himself a Becky. Congrats? Jack is coughing again. And now he's bleeding from his nose. No. Nope. Not happening. Denial, ACTIVATE!

 S14E07: So... Nick is slowly losing it. Or very quickly losing it. Depends on how you look at it. Cas is watching over Jack and tries healing him. Jack is really bad shape. They take him to a hospital. Cas does NOT have time for bureaucracy. Three worried fathers watch as their kid suffers and it HURTTS. Jack's body is shutting down and they're suffering. Cas just gave Jack his trenchcoat so now we have a trenchcoatless Cas and a trenchcoated Jack. Rowena is BACK BABY. Jack meets Rowena. Cas is so ready to give his grace for Jack. Dean is taking Jack on a fun day. He's teaching Jack how to drive awwwww. Dean and Jack are awesome. Cas feels helpless. Cas calls Jack Sam, Dean, and his' son OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG I'M HAVING A FUCKING SEIZURE. Jack and Dean are eating burgers on the impala and have fun. Meanwhile Nick is on hunt for his family's killer, being as adorable and questionable as ever. DEAN AND JACK ARE F***CKING FISHING. Jack wanted to go fishing because Dean said he went fishing with John and it was a happy memory for him and Jack considers Dean a father figure GAAAAAH IT HURTSSS. WHY IS JACK SO AT PEACE WITH DYING LIKE WHAT THE FRICK NOOOOO. AND WHY IS CAS DRIVING A TINY BLUE CAR WHO GAVE HIM PERMISSION TO BE ADORABLE. Do you ever wonder how many times a week Castiel thinks about the story Gabriel wrote on the walls of his bunker room about his time in Monte Carlo with the porn stars? He read the entire story, just summarised it for Sam. So he KNOWS everything. Things to wonder about. Nick is channeling his Lucifer or Lucifer is channeling his Nick they are one it's scary. Jack is being healed? Is he healed? He's HEALED. Jack is BACK BABY!!! Cas and Dean look so relieved. Wait why is he staggering. Why is he coughing. Cas is so pissed at the Shaman. CAS IS A PISSED OFF FATHER. CAS IS AMAZING. FREAKING DAD CAS FOR THE RESCUE. It feels like this is a setup for Lucifer to come back. Not sure how to feel about that. Um. Ummmm... Empty do your freaking job and keep him asleep. JACK IS DYING FREAKING KILL ME WHYYYY.

S14E08: Jack doesn't want them to be sad. Dean is not okay. None of them are okay. Cas is also worried about Dean. Jack is being optimistic about things and it hurts. WHAT. WHAT. HE CAN'T DIE. NO. NOOO. DEAN DIDN'T GET TO SAY GOODBYE YOU MOTHERFUCKERS NOOOO. CAS IS IN SO MUCH PAIN BUT HE'S STILL WORRYING ABOUT SAM AND DEAN OH MY GOD WHYYYYY. CAS WANTED JACK TO DIE A LONG TIME AFTER HIM. THEY'RE GETTING DRUNK TOGETHER TO DULL THE PAIN WOW THIS IS HURTING HAHAHA I'M NOT CRYING FUCK YOU MY EYES ARE LEAKING. THEY'RE EATING NOUGAT BARS THAT JACK LIKED. CAS DOESN'T EVEN EAT FOOD IT TASTE LIKE MOLECULES TO HIM. Jack is in Heaven but Empty is slowly taking over Heaven. Jack meets Kelly in Heaven. Kelly is so happy to see him until she realized he died. Anubis is an odd fellow. Cas is so happy seeing Cas again. And Kelly too. Empty has invaded Jack and Kelly's Heaven. Shit is about to go DOWN. Dean and Sam consider Jack their child. EMPTY IS HURTING CAS AND KELLY WHILE JACK IS WATCHING. CAS SAVE JACK. WAIT NO NOT LIKE THAT. DON'T YOU DARE. I WILL FUCKING END YOU EMPTY YOU SON OF A THING. CASTIEL HOW COULD YOU. Cas doesn't want Sam and Dean to worry. He says he's in peace with his decision. IN PEACE MY ASSBUTT! LISTEN HERE YOU EMOTIONALLY INCAPABLE ANGEL, YOU HAVE DONE MORE THAN ENOUGH FOR THE WHOLE EARTH. YOU SACRIFICED FROM YOURSELF THINGS OTHERS WOULDN'T EVEN BEGIN TO IMAGINE. YOU GAVE UP HEAVEN FOR SAM AND DEAN. YOU DESERVE TO BE HAPPY AND THEN YOU MAKE A DEAL THAT THE SECOND YOU'RE HAPPY YOU'LL DIE??? ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE??? In other news Jack and Kelly hugged and it was beautiful. Jack promises not to tell Sam and Dean about what Cas did. Jack is BACK BABY. Dean hugged Jack. Get the fuck away from Cas you Naomi Bitch. Jack is happy to eat burgers again. Is Jack wearing Dean's robe?

S14E09: Is this a Christmas episode? Why, I think it is. Hey look Michael is a woman now. Wait Garth NoooOOooo you can't do it. Oh wow he has a little girl now. Jack is guiltily eating cereal in the middle of the night and Cas catches him. Sam is apparently acting like a mom. Wow. Cas is being a sassy angel. Castiel likes the toys that come in the cereal box. OMG why are Jack and Cas so cute. Cas is happy Dean is feeling better but he feels guilty about lying to him about the deal. Jack is happy he can pick a lock now. HELP THEY KIDNAPPED JACK. FUCK YOU MICHAEL. Awww they're going on a family hunting trip! Team Free Will 2.0 VS Kansas City. Awww. *The hellish version of a Christmas song plays in the background*. JACK IS FUCKING SMILING. Okay so Michael I'm gonna need you to get out of Dean you sick son of a Chuck. 'Freaking ruined the Christmas episode.

S14E10: Awww they brought Pamela back! Also Dean owns a bar and he likes to flirt. He looks so happy owning a bar. Michael is sassy, and it's almost likeable. Probably because it's Dean's face. Michael is trying to get underneath Cas' skin and Cas looks so done with it. One of Dean's happy memories is the stripper case with Sam. FUCK MICHAEL. FUCK HIM SO HARD. HOW DARE HE. HE JUST SAID DEAN ONLY TOLERATES CAS BECAUSE HE FEELS LIKE HE OWES HIM FOR HELL AND CAS HASN'T DONE ANYTHING FOR DEAN EVER SINCE. *Cue epic fight scene* Hey look Dean is a cage now. Cas is so worried about Jack's soul.

S14E11: Dean is acting suspiciously. Sam's aware he and Dean only hug if it's of the world I'm dyinggg. Sam likes gossiping apparently. Dean came to visit Mary awww. Dean is now a welding master. Well now Nick is being arrested by Donna and now Donna might be about to die and NOPE. Dean is being really sweet and it's freaking everyone out. Mary thinks Dean's adorable when he's sleeping. Nick is being creepy and kidnapping Mary. Nick without Lucifer is unlikeable at best. Mary keeps a severed head in a jar. Dean tells Sam he loves him.  He shows Sam a box he plans on being buried alive in the ocean with Michael inside of it and yeah so that's not happening.

S14E12: Dean has a nightmare about being stuck in his coffin forever. Sam calls Cas. Dean says he knows he wasn't the greatest brother for Sam and Sam has this 'WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL' look on his face because that is some grade A+ bullshit right there. Cas gets a call from Dean and he's so excited because he thinks Dean is giving up his plan but Dean tells him he's not so Cas is sad. Cas is so pissed at Dean. Dean and Cas have an argument/goodbye. Dean and Sam argue. It hurts. It hurts so much. He punched Dean and then he hugged him. He tells Sam and Cas he believes in them. In all of them. Oh well I guess that if Dean gets trapped in a box at least Cas will never be taken by the Empty since he'll never be happy HAHAHAHA KILL ME NOW.

S14E13: This episode is about the city the bunker's in OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG. Someone stole Baby. There's a kid who thinks they're serial killers, which they are, but not exactly. WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. JOHN??? OF ALL THE PEOPLE, JOHN? WAS THAT EVEN AN OPTION??? WHAT THE FUCK???!!! MARY AND JOHN FINALLY SEE EACH OTHER AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW. And  Sam and Dean witness it. Sam is very awkward with John. Oh wow. So, they pulled John out of 2003 and it has changed history and now Sam likes raw food and standing desks and runs a law firm and Dean is a murderer and thief with a price on his head. Hm. Zach and Cas are reunited as bad angels no no no no THIS IS BAD. OH WELL AT LEAST CAS DOESN'T UNDERSTAND POP CULTURE REFERENCES ANYMORE. BUT NOOOOOOOOOOOO. Cas is a killer now NoooOOooo. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Cas doesn't recognize Dean and Sam as his friends. Cas is beating up Dean and Sam. Noooo. This is weird. No. Nope. Not happening. Cue the awkwardness of a family dinner. When you remember that everyone at that table died at least once it's very very weird. A family who defied Death, God, the Darkness, Demons, Angels, Monsters, and a few nasty humans here and there. Wow. Dean actually has some self-love speech and it is amazing. The character development is just *chef's kiss*. Why is this so beautiful Sam stop crying you know it makes Dean cry and when Dean cries I cry stopp it.

S14E14: Family hunting trip time! Oh look Rowena is also there! Rowena has some sort of attraction to Cas and it's chilling. Cas and Dean are on some sort of a coffee date. Jack is coughing blood again. Someone stop it. Cas is worried about Dean. Dean is only honest with Cas awwwwwww. Cas asks Jack if he's fine. Cas worries about everyone but when will someone worry about Cas? Jack, Cas, and Dean look like two parents and a child. Jack asks what an AV club is and Cas explains and then Dean calls Cas a dork. They're adorable. Cas is a VERY serious FBI agent. Rowena and Sam need to act like a married couple and it's AMAZING. MORE. GIVE THE FANDOM MORE. Jack has suffered at the vet's office. The Gorgon is hitting on Cas. Wait till Dean hears about that. Cas has been paralyzed. Cas is worried about Dean. That's strike 2. Another moment of Cas being worried and someone is about to die. Cas explains to Jack about the fragility of humans and death and moving on which makes you believe he thought about a time when Dean and Sam die and he's left all alone and now I want to walk off a cliff. Michael is out. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. JACK CALLED HIMSELF A WINCHESTER OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG. Jack got his wings back!

S14E15: Jack is playing with his snake. Cas is worried about Jack. Dean is eating. Cas and Sam go on a case together [Poor Misha. Jared must've tortured him]. Cas with his pop culture references. The only thing good about episode 13 aside from some closure for the boys is that Cas lost his knowledge of pop culture. Cas sometimes looks at the Saturday Evening Post when Sam and Dean are asleep. They're very soothing. Sam and Cas walked into a town that seems stuck in the late ‘70s. Even Cas thinks it's weird. Sam looks happy drinking a milkshake. Cas pretends to drink cuz he doesn't eat. Cas has no social skills. Jack is trying to feed the snake. Dean likes bacon. Some woman checked Cas out. Cas reads a series of love letters between the victim and a milkshake serving a young woman. Cas is so done with people hitting on him. How Cas describes Sam "I'm looking for my partner. Tall man. Hair? He has beautiful hair." FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. SAM BECAME A PART OF THE WEIRD TOWN FUCK FUCK FUCK. HE'S WEARING GLASSES THIS IS FUCKING WEIRD. CAS IS SO SCARED AND CONFUSED. SOMEONE SAVE HIM AND SAM. Dean is terrified of the snake. Cas is angry. Cas is worried and understanding about how Sam feels. CAS JUST FUCKING TOLD A MAN HE'S NOT GOD BECAUSE GOD HAS A BEARD.

S14E16: JACK IS ADORABLE STAB ME IN THE GUT AND TWIST IT WHY IS HE SO ADORABLE. Jack is so awkward around other people. OMG WHY ARE YOU SO CUTE WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT YOU FREAKING LOVEABLE DORK. JACK IS LIKE "WELL I'M TWO-TWENTY! I'M TWENTY-TWO!!!" Jack is so freaking happy hanging out with kids his "age". Oh no he's sad.

S14E17: There was supposed to be a family game night. Cas is meeting up with Anael [The fact that this is Daneel and Misha on the same set is amazing]. Nick is back and off his rocket. Anael and Cas discuss God. Jack is going dark side. Woops. Jack sweetheart you're worrying me. Jack what did you do. Jack?

S14E18: Jack what did you do to Mary. What did you do. This is very scary. Oh wait he KILLED HER. WOW. OKAY. HOW THE HELL DO YOU FIX THAT SHIT. DEAN WILL NEVER FORGIVE HIM. SAM TOO. DEAN MIGHT TRY TO KILL HIM BUT THEN SAM WILL STOP HIM AND TELL JACK TO NEVER COME BACK AND CAS WOULD BE SO TORN BECAUSE HE PROMISED TO PROTECT JACK BUT HE KILLED MARY AND WOW THE WRITERS REALLY DUG DEEP WITH THIS ONE. Cas is remembering one of his first hunts with Mary. Did Dean just... Did he tell Cas that if Jack did something to Mary he's dead to him? I think he did. Huh. Welp, time to dig a hole in the ground, huddle into a fetus position and cry. Cas is not even mad. We are fine. Nothing is wrong. Oh wow what is this? A guilt trip down memory lane? Why are you hurting us by showing us all the nice missing moments between Mary and the rest? Is this fun for you you sadistic fucks? Jack needs a snickers. Mary is dead. Wow. Sam just stopped Cas from walking over to Dean. Wow.

S14E19: Dean gives a beautiful speech. Bobby is back. Cas is still protective of Cas. There's a lot of awkward silences between Dean and Cas. Made-up Lucifer is a dick. What do you mean Cas doesn't love Jack um hello? He gave away his chance at happiness for Jack. Fuck you Made-up Lucifer. Oh no. Dean is crying alone. Naomi Bitch Replacement is messing with Jack's head. Fuck her. A pillar of salt? Really?. Okay so Soulless Jack is horrible. I love him so much but he was already like a toddler playing with a bazooka. Now he's like a SADISTIC toddler playing with a bazooka with no soul. It really feels like Cas is the only one left with a sense of rationality. Cas is pissed at Sam and Dean for locking Jack up.

S14E20: So, Jack's pissed. Dean calls Jack a monster and I think why it bothered Castiel so much is because that would mean Castiel is a monster too. Chuck is BACK BABY AND OHHH BOI IS THIS A RIDE. Cas is so done. Dean smashes a guitar. Chuck and Dean yell at each other. Chuck is such a dork. Castiel is so pissed. Jack and Castiel reunite. Sam has a talk with Chuck. Chuck breaks the fourth wall. Dean is here to kill Jack. Cas doesn't want that. Dean and Jack are about to die. Jack is okay with that. Welp CHUCK IS HORRIBLE AND NOPE. DID CHUCK JUST KILL JACK. NO NO. CHUCK'S GONE DARK SIDE. No why is Jack dead. This isn't fair. 

S15:

S15E01: Cas does NOT like that a demon inside Jack's body. Chuck literally jump-started the apocalypse. Cas is not okay.

S15E02: You can't tell me that Cas telling Dean it wasn't all a lie isn't him telling Dean that what they have is real. WELCOME BACK KEVIN TRAN, ADVANCED PLACEMENT. Kevin is BACK BABY. God and Amara are being siblings. Rowena and Ketch together are very weird and Crowley will NOT approve.

S15E03: Rowena is awesome. Cas and the demon inside Jack are very... Iffy with each other. Belphegor is awesome. Cas literally just FUCKING PUSHED BELPHEGOR INTO HELL AND JUMPED AFTER HIM WITH A COMPLETE STRAIGHT FACE WOW HE IS SO DONE. Cas tells Belphegor that Jack is like a son to him. Cas is forced to sing a song to praise Lucifer. Shit is going down. Cas and Belphegor did NOT work out. Wait does that mean Cas will get stuck in hell. Oh fuck. Oh crap. This is bad. Why does Cas has to suffer so much? Whyyy. He never wanted anything special. Just to be with Jack, Sam, and Dean. He wanted to do good. Whyyyy. ROWENA NO. NOPE. NOPE. DON'T DO IT. SAM DOESN'T WANT TO. DON'T MAKE HIM. STOP IT. ROWENA NOOOO. ALSO CAS AND DEAN STOP FIGHTING IT'S BAD. UM, DEAN? IT'D BE GREATLY APPRECIATED IF YOU AND CAS WOULD STOP FIGHTING. IT'S SCARING THE CHILDREN AND MAKING THEM CRY. STOP IT. STOP IT. STOP IT! OH HEY I'M CRYING, WHAT A SURPRISE!

S15E04: Sam has a weird dream. Awesome fight scene though. Dean likes vegan bacon now. Or not. Wow Chuck might actually be afraid of Becky. Meeting Exes is awkward. CHUCK IS A DICK. BEING A WRITER DOESN'T MEAN YOU GET TO ABUSE OTHERS. FUCK YOU.

S15E05: Dean can't handle spicy jerky. Sam has bad dreams again. Um, Lilith's back? What? Is that a thing now? Wow.

S15E06: Cas is fishing now. He's also really sweet and cares about a guy who sells him fish bait. He also goes by Clearance like Meg used to call him, which is extra sweet. Cas is investigating stuff. Cas and Dean talk and Cas acts like a sassy toddler. Cas's powers are fading. Sam might have a small crush on the deaf hunter. Aww that's so nice. He saw she was naked so he turned away. Awww. What a gentleman. Dean raised you well. Dean doesn't know what's God and what's him.

S15E07: Sam and Eileen are definitely having fun, with margaritas and bacon. Dean refuses bacon, which leads us to believe he had truly given up on this world. Dean gets flirted with. Dean gets reunited with an old "friend". Sam and Eileen are AWKWARD AND DEAN IS TO BLAME BECAUSE HE'S THE ONE WHO TEASED SAM. OH MY GOD IT'S LIKE WATCHING TWO NERDS FALL IN LOVE WHAT THE HELL. IS THAT HOW SAM FEELS WHEN HE'S WATCHING DEAN AND CAS??? THAT'S TORTURE. WOW THEY ALMOST KISSED AND THEN CAS WALKED IN OMG IT IS LIKE SAM WITH DEAN AND CAS. Cas is so pissed with shamans. OMG OMG OMG DEAN IS ABOUT TO SING OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG WOW HE SINGS SO BEAUTIFULLY SOMEONE GET THAT MAN A CONTRACT HE'S SO HAPPY WHAT OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG. Cas became grade A at threatening people. Kudos. Dean loves Texas now. Cas and Dean are awkward. Ever remember season 1 where they found out demons existed and felt like they were in over their heads? Well now they want to fight God.

S15E08: Sam is being an overprotective boyfriend. He's so cute. Oh my god... Are they getting Adam out of the cage??? Is this happening??? I know the last season is supposed to sort of give closure to unfinished plotlines but if this really happening it's amazing. Rowena is BACK BABY. Rowena is FUCKING awesome. A real queen, if you will. Crowley would be proud. She's also gives Cas and Dean a quick couple's counseling session. Adam is out of hell. It happened. Dean so ships Eileen and Sam. Dean and Cas are AWKWARD. Michael is back. Michael and Cas talk. Cas channels his inner Lucifer. Cas and Dean FINALLY talk. CHUCK YOU FUCKING DICK GET AWAY FROM EILEEN SAM WAS FINALLY STARTING TO BE HAPPY. OMG OMG DEAN AND CAS ARE GOING TO PURGATORY??? Dean and Adam talk.

S15E09: Wow Chuck is so manipulative. Wow. Chuck is really unlikeable anymore. Woah, did Cas just call Dean stupid? Cas has SNAPPED. So happy Sam has Eileen now. Any girl that can be tied to a chair, deaf, and still kick ass and sass God in front of him deserves a Sam Winchester. Wow Sassy Cas really ain't taking Dean's BS today. Chuck is a sadistic fuck. Chuck has lost it. God Complex much? Dean and Cas are in purgatory. Getting the band back together and it feels good. Benny died. That's sad. Dean and Cas discuss the guilt. OMG WHAT HAPPENS TO CAS IN THE FUTURE??? HE GOT THE MARK AND WENT CRAZY??? AND DEAN HAD TO BURY HIM IN THE BOX??? DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME THIS SHIT IS NOT CANON FANFICS CAN'T MAKE THIS STUFF UP. HE LOOKS SO HEARTBROKEN. Meanwhile in Purgatory: Dean is looking for Cas who has disappeared and they need to go back soon and things are BAD with a capital everything. DEAN IS PRAYING TO CASTIEL OMG OMG OMG HE BARELY DID IT EVER SINCE PURGATORY ROUND 1. He admits he should've stopped Cas from leaving. He calls Cas his best friend AWWWWWWW. HE'S CRYING OH MY GOD. HE FORGAVE CAS!!! THIS IS SO CANON HDJCJRIHEISHS. OMG CAS IS OKAY AND THEY HUGGED DEAN LOOKS SO HAPPY FUCK THIS I'M CRYINGGGG. SAM AND DEAN BECAME MONSTERS??? FUCK THAT SHIT. CAS TAKES THE MARK OH NO I DON'T WANT HIM TO GO INSANE. Cas and Dean arrive at the casino. Save Sam!!! SAM, SAM WHAT ARE YOU DOING MAN? NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. AWWWW SAM AND EILEEN KISSED AWWW. NOW WE NEED A CAS AND DEAN KISS AND WE'RE GOLDEN GUYS. LET'S MAKE IT HAPPEN. I BELIEVE. Jack and Billy are BACK BABY.

S15E10: It seems like Sam and Dean lose luck. Baby shut down. Garth named his twins Sam... and Castiel. Dean is definitely not insulted. Garth is a dentist now. Dean is afraid of dentists. Dean has a dream where he and Garth are tap dancing in black and white. OH MY GOD GARTH WHAT DID YOU DO TO DEAN'S MOUTH. GARTH TOLD DEAN HE NEEDS TO GET A COLONOSCOPY AND I FREAKING DROPPED MY PHONE. CHUCK DOWNGRADED SAM AND DEAN TO NOT MAIN CHARACTERS AND NOW THEY HAVE TO DEAL WITH NORMAL PEOPLE PROBLEMS HAHAHAHHAHA THIS IS AWESOME. DEAN IS HOLDING BABY CASTIEL AND HE'S LIKE "THIS CAS KEEPS LOOKING AT ME WEIRD" AND SAM ANSWERS "SO KINDA LIKE THE REAL CAS" AND THEY KNOW. Also Sam and Dean are holding babies and it's adorable.

S15E11: Cas comes back to find out Sam and Dean are going to Alaska. Cas gets a call about Jack related info. Ahem... Jack is BACK BABY! Cas is worried about Jack. Jack is tied up. Cas to the rescue! CAS AND JACK REUNITE. This is like the most interesting pool game ever. Dean and Sam's luck is BACK BABY. JACK AND SAM AND DEAN REUNITE.

S15E12: Cas is so happy Jack is back. Dean and Cas are best buddies. Cas and Jack play 4-in-a-row. Cas and Jody meet for the first time. Jack wants to help. Cas still cares a lot about Claire. Billy is PISSED.

S15E13: The recap starts with the pizza man montage, which is really the only way it could. Ruby and Anael are BACK BABY AND WELL IT IS AWESOME. [Just pointing out that the fact they brought both of Jensen and Jared's wives for this is amazing] also Cas has no chill with his sass. Cas wants to almost die and go to Empty to talk to Ruby. He gets into the Empty and runs into Empty-Meg and she called him Clearance awwww. Ruby is BACK BABY. Cas almost dies by the Empty. He comes back though. Otherworld Sam and Dean are terrifying. They seem... Okay, and it's horrible. Also they're spoiled. HELLHOUNDS BABY! Jack arrives at Eden. Jack is crying + he got his soul back!!!

S15E14: Supernatural is BACK BABY. JACK IS STILL DEPRESSED NOOOO. DEAN HAS SCOOBY-DOO UNDERTHINGS PASS IT ON. Dean and Sam meet Mrs. Butters. She's nice and she made Christmas and Thanksgiving and the Fourth of July and Halloween collide in the calendar. Jack is out of his room now. Oh hey Dean's actually trying to not be angry at Jack. They have a monster radar! Lunch bag, she pack them lunch bags I-. Jack is still being sad noo. She keeps giving him smoothies. It's weird. OMG SAM IS GOING ON A DATE WITH EILEEN THEY REALLY SAID SAILEEN RIGHTS. Oh wait. Oh fuck what the fuck why is she ripping his head off oh no Jack run. Oh fuck why is she an evil mastermind all of a sudden they were happy. DEAN GETS TRAPPED TOO. DEAN BEING A REAL BROTHER BEING LIKE "YEAH I CAN WAIT UNTIL MY BROTHER IS DONE GETTING LAID FOR HIM TO COME BACK AND RESCUE ME AND OUR CO-ANGEL-CHILD". Dean is really trying with Jack my heart wow. Ugh not again with Sam and the nails the waves of nausea are hitting me-. Oh no Mrs. Butters story is really sad I don't like the old MoL. Oh goodbye Mrs. B we'll miss you. Awww Jack honey of course you can kill Chuck here I'll do it for you you just eat your nougat bars. OH MY FUCKING GOD DEAN MADE JACK A BIRTHDAY CAKE I REPEAT HE MADE JACK A BIRTHDAY CAKE JACK IS FOUR NOW CELEBRATE WITH US ALL *HYPERVENTILATING HARD*. 10/10 episode would recommend with a side of angst.

S15E15: Cas is BACK BABY! Aww Jack wants to wear matching ties. Awwwww. Sam and Dean are going after Amara. Good luck with that. Oh a church case for Cas? A little on the nose there. Oh wow this is getting dark. Aww Jack doesn't want to say something so Cas talks about himself instead. God I love them. Cas is amazing. I love him so much. Jack too. Meanwhile, Sam and Dean are eating with Amara lunch. Crossroads demons are out of fashion, as per told by Rowena, the Queen of us all. Jack needs Cas' permission to create a social media account. Even the internet knows to give Cas cats. God bless the internet. Oh my god Dean and Amara talked and wow it was deep. Amara's intentions with Mary were... Wow. Poor Dean though. Wow Cas and Jack can't catch a break. Oh god Jack was stabbed he's okay but we're not okay what the hell. Once again, we are reminded that against regular humans Cas is a freaking supernatural creature with super strength and the wrath of heaven. Hey wait why does the crossroad demon look like he’s kidnapping this girl? Oh well guess we'll never find out. JACK IS GOING TO DIE? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK BILLIE??? WHO AUTHORIZED THIS SHIT? HE NEEDS A PARENT OR A GUARDIAN'S PERMISSION!!! Cas not wanting to see Jack die again is hurting me. What do you mean it's not his choice Jack go to your room you're grounded until they kill Chuck. Cas um where are you going?? What do you mean in case you won't come back? Are you going where I think you're going? You better stay the FUCK away from the Empty or I swear to all that is sacred (the impala, Sam and Dean's flannel, Led Zeppelin) that I will cry. What do Sam and Dean need to know??? What is this shit????? I WILL SUE!!!!!

S15E16: Hey is he going to get killed? Called it! Hey Dean darling how about you let Sam know about Jack? Any minute now honey? No don't you fucking- Dean! Hey it's tiny Sam and Dean look at them awww. Hey Caitlin seems nice. Woah weird monster in the candy machine alert! Dean why are you so depressing this episode??? Sam being in the dark hurts me. Um Dean? What have you got there buddy? Is that a knife? Put the knife down, Dean put the knife down this isn't funny- oh thank god Sam Dean almost fillet-ed himself. Tiny Dean being scared but also macho aww. It's a Baba Yaga? A Baba FREAKIN Yaga? Wow. Omg Dean's face when he heard the woman having sex is priceless. He really grew up. Good on him. Caitlin you majestic being you managed to have Dean admit his fear wow Dean honey am I proud of you. Aww Sam is trying to call Cas. Um... Dean? OMG OMG ARE YOU TELLING HIM? YASSS SAMMY GO OFF. DEAN FUCK OFF JACK IS NOT DYING ON MY WATCH. OMG THE SILENCE. WOW.

S15E17: This starts with Amara. What a queen. I really like her now.  She can cut me with her cheekbones. Look at her. Wow. She's so pretty. Cas is there! Sam is giving Dean the silent treatment. Yeah Dean is talking depressing. AHHH AMARA IS HERE. Jack meets Amara awww. Yes I want them to spend time together YESSS. Amara and Dean are like that couple that didn't work out because they figured they'd be better as friends and it's so nice to see them. Sam is amazing wowwww. Dean WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST- WHAT DO YOU MEANT JACK ISN'T FAMILY YOU- UMM WAIT IS JACK- NOOOOOOOO!!!!! OWW MY FEELINGS. Jack looks so sad nooo. Cas is there Cas make it better. Aww Amara with a flower. Chuck is back... Yay. Lol Chuck didn't write the Dean/Amara debacle and he thinks it's weird that's amazing. Amara is amazing. Amara trying to make Chuck not act like a spoiled brat wow this is hard. I hate him with passion. AMARA YASS QUEEN GO OFFFFF. HOLD HIM. Jack you shouldn't UNDERSTAND HIM you should be PISSED. HE DID THE HELLO AJAJAGDVSHA. OH.MY.GOD I LOVE ADAM AND SERAFINA SOMEONE HUG THEM. Jack has a skittles aura wow. The final ritual, the ROCKS. Adam looks so relieved that Jack got it. OH I DID NOT NEED TO SEE HER DIGGING INTO HIS RIBS. Dean whatcha doing there buddy? Aww he thanked him!!! I still don't forgive what he said though. IT'S TIME??? IT'S TIME BABY. SAM BEING FRUSTRATED AND CAS HELPING AWWW. They found the key, HOORAH! Cas awww thank you for helping Sam. Sam no don't go alone. Empty is Meg now waaaaaht. BILLIE WANTS WHAT NOW??? Sam lying Through His Teeth to the Empty the man is a LEGEND. No Cas it's not time we need to stop this. Dean, Dean you're scaring me. Cas being angry at Jack eating the ribs the angel is legendary. Chuck you sick sick bastard what did you do you FUCKER??? AMARA STOP IT. DEAN WHAT THE HELL YOU DO NOT PULL A GUN AT YOUR BROTHER WHO THE FUCK- WHAT THE FUCK- CAS DO SOMETHINGGGG NO STOP HURTING EACH OTHER. STOP IT. CHUCK YOU SHUT THE HELL UP. DEAN STOP IT STOP THE VIOLENCE. YESS SAM TELL HIM. FUCK YOU CHUCK. AMARA NOOO. DEAN OH MY GOD NO. SAM IT'S BREAKING MY HEART. NOOOO AMARA NOOO. CHUCK NEEDS TO DIE BUT NOT LIKE THIS. OMG SAM NOOO. DEAN YESSS PUT THE GUN DOWN. FUCK YOU CHUCK. OH YOU CAN GO SUCK A DICK DON'T YOU EVER, EVER CALL CAS THAT. OMG CAS IS LITERALLY THE EMBODIMENT OF FREE WILL DID NOT EXPECT THAT. FUCK YOU CHUCK. OMG JACK NOOOO.

S15E18: DEAR LORD SOMEONE SAVE JACK HE CAN'T DIE NO NO NOPE NOT HAPPENING. Jack this is very sweet but they will NOT leave you. Billie not now. Yeah Dean tell her. Yass dads go OFF. WHERE IS JACK WHAT DID YOU DO BILLIE??? THE EMPTY??? NO DON'T DON'T DO THIS. JACK? JACK NO? JACK???? FUCK YOU BILLIE BRING HIM BACK. Oh you can go fuck yourself for all I care this is SO NOT THE TIME FOR THE BOOK. Yes Sam go OFF. Cas you really shouldn't be talking about the Empty. Isn't this episode when the deal goes down? Fuck you Billie you lost my respect. OMG JACK YOU'RE OKAY THANK GOD. Um... Empty? You okay there? Damn Sam being sassy. AND THEN HE GOES TO SIT IN THE CORNER HAHAHAHA. Yes Dean tell her. Did she just shush him? Empty ma gurl you good? Um, Billie? What's interesting? Jack's back BABY! He is not yours. Yes Dean go OFFF. CAS BEING A DAD. Aww Dean and Sam having a talk yes I'm so proud of my expressive babies. They be talking. Um, what new plan? What changed? Oh who this? Charlie is BACK BABY! YASSS MY QUEEN. Aww is that her gf? It's her gf. Oh okay where's her fucking gf??? Jack are you okay? Cas is worrying aww. Nothing's over Jack you're just three you have tons ahead of you. Dear lord Cas are you listening to yourself this is what you need to tell yourself OH MY GOD I'M BANGING MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL UGHHHH. Billie you're being a dick stop it.  Crap everyone's disappearing. WAIT EILEEN? NO NO NO NO YOU WILL NOT DO THIS TO ME. EILLEN IS GOING TO BE FINE. WHERE ARE THE THREE DOTS? WHY AREN'T THEY THERE??? DRIVE FASTER DEAN!!! Why is the car empty? Where is she? Sam? Aww the screensaver. FUCK. SHE'S GONE. SAM? YOU OKAY? OH GOD BILLIE FUCK YOU LOOK WHAT YOU DID. NOOO. So Dean is going to kill Death again? Neat. Um Cas? I'm all for spending time with Dean but I'm worried. Aww Dean and Sam hugged. Oh hey Donna! (Is it me or is her accent off?) Jack is silent. Jack is driving. I'm so proud of him aww. Damn the badass music is awesome. Dean with the scythe is awesome. Look at that power couple. Aww Sam and Donna hugged that's cute. Let's go. Oh hey Charlie how are you? Bobby is BACK BABY. Bobby is awesome. Um Jack? How come that plant just died??? Sneaking into Death Library because those two are idiots. Oh hey splitting up is a great idea. Hi Billie, how are you? KILL 'EM DEAN. CAS ATTACK! BILLIE YOU LEAVE HIM ALONE RIGHT NOW. FUCK YOU BILLIE. DO IT DEAN KILL THEM. WAIT WHAT? Billie didn't kill them? Who did? CHUCK? THAT MOTHER FUCKER I WILL MURDER HIM. OH GOD PEOPLE ARE DISAPPEARING. WHERE ARE THEY? WAIT, NO, NOT CHARLIE NOOO. BOBBY? NO NOT BOBBY!!! DONNA? DONNA WHAT'S HAPPENING??? DONNA? NOOO!!! Oh Billie's dead now great. You can't kill Dean though. Run you two RUN. Run like hell run. Dean? Fuck. Billie leave him ALONE. FUCK FUCK RUN AWAY. BILLIE SHUT UP THIS IS A CRISIS. CAS PROTECT DEAN. PROTECT HIM LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT. YES YOU GOT HIM. FUCK YOU BILLIE FUCK YOU SO HARD. INTO THE DUNGEON. CAS REACHING INTO DEAN'S BACK POCKET AND CUTTING HIMSELF WHY??? OKAY SIGIL. SIGILS ARE NICE. OKAY GOOD DEAN IS OKAY. Dean you're being depressed this isn't helping. Billie enough of the banging. Dean you're not angry enough with this you're good. Yeah fuck Chuck but that's not the point. Dean noo. Cas do somethingggg. Dean it's okay. It's not your fault. Um Cas? What's that? Wait, the deal? Now, you're doing this now? UM, WHAT? WHAT'S HAPPENING? YEAH WHY NOW? YOU'RE LOOKING AT YOUR TRUE HAPPINESS DUMMY. IS, IS HE- WHAT'S HE DOING??? KNOW WHAT? AWWW LOOK AT HIS REVELATIONS. YEAH WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? CAS? UM. UM???!!! YES CAS TELL HIM TELL HIM HOW YOU SEE HIM THIS IS AMAZING THIS IS EVERYTHING I'VE EVER WANTED. MY HEART IS BEATING SO FAST. I CAN'T BREATHE I CAN'T BREATHE I CAN'T BREATHE. WHY ARE YOU CRYING NOOOO. CHANGED??? WHAT'S HAPPENING? WHAT'S HAPPENING SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT'S HAPPENING??? IT'S NOT A GOODBYE SHUT UP. D- DID HE JUST. DID HE JUST SAY- DID HE JUST SAY I- HE TOLD DEAN I LOVE YOU???!!! IS THIS A DREAM??? IS THIS REAL LIFE? WHAT'S HAPPENING? WHY ARE YOU CRYING??! I'M SCARED WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW???? "don't do this"??? DON'T DO THIS??? WHAT DO YOU MEEEAANN??? WAIT EMPTY BACK OFF NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO THE HAND ON THE SHOULDER THE HANDPRINT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. FUCK THIS NO I'M NOT OKAY THIS ISN'T HAPPENING NOOO. CAAAAAAAAS NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! DEAN? DEAN DO SOMETHING?? DEAN WHAT'S HAPPENING??? WAIT WHERE IS EVERYONE? IS IT THE WHOLE WORLD? DEAN? DEAN? SAM IS CALLING YOU? DEAN? ARE YOU CRYING? YOU CAN'T CRY OTHERWISE I'LL CRY NO NO NO NO NO THIS IS FUCKING BAD.

S15E19: alright, the world is empty. Oh no Dean is coming to meet up with Sam and Jack no no this is bad the jacket. "Where's Cas?" I- DEAN OH MY GOD NOOO. OH NO JODY AND THE GIRLS NOO EVERYBODY'S GONE. Jack calling out for his dad my heart hurts no. Dean this is not the time for a beer. UH SAM NO YOU'RE NOT GIVING UP NUH-UH NOPE NOT TODAY. UM SAM, DEAN? YOU'RE NOT SACRIFICING YOURSELVES WHAT THE HELL NO. GOD I HATE CHUCK SOMEONE DESTROY HIM. SHOOT HIM IN THE GODDAMN CHEST, PLEASE. Side note: how cute is Jack in his jammies? Okay back to angst. Dean stop falling asleep on bottles. Jack? What's up honey? Aww cuteness overload from the jammies. Aww Dean found a dog look how happy he is OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG LOOK AT HIS FACE AWWW AHHHH HE'S SO EXCITED. OH MY FUCKING GOD KILL CHUCK KILL HIM I WANT HIM TO BURN ALIVE OH MY GOD PUNCH HIM. Oh hey Michael long time no see? What's up? Tis a shame about Adam, truly. Oh the book? Hey I love how Jack is just off to the side, eating a nougat bar. Hey are they gonna talk now? Oh wow. Um, Cas? How are you calling? I HAVE A REALLY BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS. OH MY GOD WATCH DEAN RUN. FUCK IT'S LUCIFER. WHAT DOES HE WANT. LEAVE. LEAVE. THE EMPTY LET YOU OUT AND NOT CAS? BITCH. LUCIFER YOU ARE NOT PART OF THE TEAM. Oh who that lady? Betty. Oh hi Betty. I like Betty. She makes me laugh. Lucifer building a house of cards. Jack you okay buddy? Oh hey Michael. Nobody trust Lucifer. Ohhhh how does God end? Um Lucifer? What are you doing? Why does this entire episode feel off? Wait, Chuck pulled him out? Gross. Kill him. LUCIFER LEAVE JACK ALONE. He will NEVER BE WITH YOU LUCIFER. YEAH STAB HIM GOOD MICHAEL. Jack you seem... Off? Michael you seem off. No question mark. Michael why you lying. Oh yay Sam cracked it. Hey you know the lake reminds me of where Jack was born. Oh yeah, doing spell stuff. Very badass. Um. What happened? Oh fuck. Oh fuck. CHUCK. KILL HIM. BREAK HIM. SAM, DEAN, NOOOO. MICHAEL YOU SON OF A BITCH. OH HE DED. RIP. CHUCK YOU STUPID BASTARD. What now Chuck? Gonna go kick puppies? Oh wait, you already DID. DAMN SAM I'M PROUD OF YOU. OH CHUCK DON'T YOU DARE. NO. NO. OW. NO. NO THIS IS HORRIBLE. THIS IS AWFUL. STOP IT. STOP HURTING THEM. NO. NO. HEY DOES ANYBODY FEEL A WEIRD DÉJÀ VU? LIKE, DIDN'T BECKY MENTION IT? "No classic rock, no Cas"? OH MY GOD THIS IS CHUCK'S ENDING. THE ENDING HE WROTE. FUCK. THE META. IT'S DEEP. NO STOP IT. STOP HURTING HIM. OH MY GOD OWWWW. OH PLEASE CHUCK THEY'LL NEVER STAY DOWN. SHUT THE FUCK UP CHUCK. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU SO HARD. IT IS NOT ENOUGH. FUCK YOU. YEAH SAM HELP DEAN UP. YEAH YOU WON. LOOK AT JACK ALL CUTE IN HIS WHITE SHIRT. Jack you look nice. Is that a new haircut? HAHA Chuck you can't do anything. YESSS!!!!! FUCK YEAH JACK YESS YOU DO THAT YESS I'M SO PROUD. I'M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU. OF ALL OF YOU. FUCK YES. Wait the book is blank? Wah- oh my god it's monologue time, bitch. I love this plan. It's awesome. Oh so that's what happened to Jack. They tricked you Chuck. Punched you right in your stupid face. METAPHORICALLY. They're not going to kill you. They're better than that. You fucker. Dean's no killer you fucker. Neither is Sam. Oh. Oh yes. OH YESS. THEY'RE WALKING AWAY. THIS IS BETTER THAN I'VE EVER HOPED. I'M SO SO PROUD OF THEM. DEAN SAYS THAT'S NOT WHO HE IS HE LISTENED TO CAS OH MY GOD. I'M SO PROUD OF THEM ALL. MY HEART CAN'T HANDLE IT. OH MY GOD. OH YESS LEAVE HIM TO ROT IN THE DIRT. YESSS. YESSS. YESSSSS!!!!! I'M SO SO SO FUCKING PROUD OF THEM ALL HOLY SHIT THEY DID THE GROWTH THING OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT. YEAH CHUCK THEY LEFT YOU, DEAL WITH IT. YES. I'M SO HAPPY. Aww is Jack going to bring everyone back? *Gasp* is he going to bring Cas back? Are we getting a reunion? OH MY GOD THE MUSIC IS SO NICE. JACK LOOKS SO AMAZING. THE PEOPLE ARE BACK!!! LOOK AT JACK SMILING ALL IN PEACE I'M SO PROUD OF HIM. I'M SO, SO PROUD OF HIM. HE GETS IT. HE GETS THE BEAUTY IN HUMANITY AND IN EARTH. IS JACK THE NEW GOD NOW? DEAN AND SAM ARE SO PROUD OF HIM. OH MY GOD IS JACK NOT COMING BACK? WHAT? WHY? Jack I just want you to know I love you so much. You're so smart and understanding and caring. You're better than God. You're Jack. Dean I know it's hard but Jack knows what he's doing. Jack understands faith. He understands family. He understands love. He understands. I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM NOOO DON'T LEAVE ME I MEAN I'M SO PROUD OF YOU BUT NOOO MY BABY YOU'RE A BABY AND YOU'LL ALWAYS BE ONE YES. Sam and Dean, alone at the bunker. I'm so proud of them. They've come such a long way ever since the start. They get to be free now. But they're alone. Not for long. Next episode, everyone is coming back.  OH NO THE TABLE. THE FUCKING TABLE. NO NO NO THEY WROTE JACK AND CASTIEL I CAN'T HANDLE IT SOMEONE HOLD ME. LOOK AT THEM DRIVING MY BABIES A MONTAGE OH MY GOD THIS IS AMAZING THE TEARS NO THEY LOOK SO HAPPY THIS ISN'T GOOD FOR MY MENTAL HEALTH. OH THE FAMILY DINNER. THE COWBOY HATS. THIS ID NOT OKAY. THE DINNER WITH TEAM FREE WILL 2.0 THIS HAS BEEN AMAZING I LOVE EVERYTHING. 

 S15E20 will be posted a few days after the episode!

[gukyi]

tripping over ourselves | jsw

⇒ summary: jeong sewoon is your best friend. he also happens to be a vampire. you’re no expert with vampires, but there must be something about his immortality that keeps drawing you to him. no way is it just his cute personality on its own.

⇒ vampire!au, friends to lovers!au

⇒ pairing: jeong sewoon x reader

⇒ word count: 4k

⇒ warnings: blood mention (it’s a vampire au, i don’t know what else you were expecting)

⇒ a/n: happy birthday to the baddest bitch i know, @sihyun !!!! i love u so much and i wanted to do something special for ur birthday, so here this monstrosity is!!!!! i could make this authors note like 4k long if i wanted to bc i love u so much. on a side note, me writing for a pd101 boy is kind of a one time thing. soz.

There’s a lifeless, colorless bird on your windowsill, and it’s the first thing you notice when you step inside your shared apartment. The poor thing’s had the life drained right out of it; decaying, rotting scent wafting through the room. It almost looks peaceful, really, collapsed on its side like it just conked out after a very long flight, feathers fluttering softly in the breeze that runs through the flat.

Well, at least Sewoon had the decency to open the window to get the smell out.

Dead animals are a surprisingly common occurrence in whatever fucked-up household you live in, though you made the executive decision a while ago to restrict the animals that Sewoon treks in to just birds of flight. No penguins, tragically, and also no rodents. Dead birds are a little less gross than dead rats. You see enough of those already whenever you walk down the sidewalk of the city center.

You sigh, seeing this as only a minor inconvenience at best, and drop your backpack to your feet, letting it hit the wall beside it. Once that damn heavy thing is off of your shoulders, you make a beeline for his room, storming towards it and trying not to pay too much attention to the lifeless creature on the windowsill. The less you worry about it, the better. If you spent your entire life stressing over the fact that sometimes Sewoon has to kill birds to live, then you’d never get anything done.

“Sewoon?” You ask, a little peeved, not even bothering to knock on his closed door and instead just barging inside. “I thought we discussed—”

Sewoon looks up like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide as the light from the hallway illuminates a bit of his figure. His room is pitch black otherwise, every part of it hidden in the shadows, including himself. His eyes are a blazing shade of red, a stark signal that he’s just fed. In a little, they’ll fade back to a casual mahogany shade. Something a little less… obvious. There’s a thin trail of blood from his bottom lip to his chin, little drops falling onto his sheets.

“You’re kidding me,” you immediately say, crossing your arms over your chest as you take in the sight in front of you. “Don’t tell me you’ve been batting around in the dark while I was in class.”

“I have,” Sewoon says, grinning guiltily. “But not by much. I just haven’t fed in a while, I got a bit desperate. Didn’t want you to come home to see me freaking out in the living room, getting blood stains all over the furniture.”

You chuckle, stifling a much bigger laugh. “You do that even when I am home.”

“But I try to avoid it when you’re not, just so you don’t scream at me when you get back,” he insists, eyes pleading. God, they always fucking work on you. Vamps with soft hearts are a deadly combination. No pun intended.

“I’ll scream at you any time.”

“Like now?” He asks, wincing. He knows he’s in some minorly deep shit now.

“Like now,” you confirm, walking into his dark room and pulling him from his bed by his shirt collar, holding onto it tightly as you drag him outside. “I thought we discussed the dead bird shit, man,” you say, exasperated. “What the hell is this?”

“The dead bird shit.”

“Exactly. When did you even have the time to feed off of it?” You ask, pushing the boy backwards, making him stumble over his feet, dazed. You peer out the window, squinting at the moon behind the skyscrapers. “The sun barely set an hour ago.”

“I was really hungry,” Sewoon admits, and from the way his eyes are still ignited in red hot flames and the blood on his chin is still fresh, you know he’s telling the truth. “It’s been tough.”

“Don’t you work the night shift at the hospital?” You remind him. Typically, this type of incident isn’t an issue, just because Sewoon kind of has an endless supply of human blood whenever he goes in for his internship. It’s a win-win situation most of the time, really. Sewoon gets his blood and he doesn’t have to come in contact with the sun, which—while it will not kill him—will give him a particularly gnarly sunburn on the skin where exposed. Vamp perks. Or not, you suppose.

“They’ve given me more work this past week,” Sewoon sighs, collapsing onto the couch as you get a paper towel to shove the bird out of the window. Couldn’t he have just done this on his own? “I haven’t had the time to feed.”

“God, I hate it when you’re all responsible and productive. It makes me feel so awful,” you tell him, rolling your eyes as you move his feet off of the couch so you can sit next to him. “You’re literally going to live forever. You have all the time in the world to be productive and responsible. Me? I’m gonna die.”

“Not soon, I hope,” Sewoon says, sitting up and leaning on your shoulder. “Nobody else understands my vampire ways like you do.”

“I’ve had to deal with you my entire life. Vamp or not, you’re stuck with me.”

Sewoon rests his chin on your shoulder and grins your way, a tired, hazy smile, and he shows off his blood-stained fangs in the process. They are, admittedly, very cute for a vampire, endearing and surprisingly fitting for him. It’s like he was just made to be a vamp. You can’t help but send a smile his way, not when it’s late in the evening and time feels delicate and slow. You reach a hand up and wipe away the blood on his chin with your thumb, letting it stain your skin and leave his skin pale in return.

“I’d rather live the rest of my days alone than with someone that isn’t you,” Sewoon says, and the line that resides between platonic and romantic affection is practically moot at this point, a nonsense concept that shouldn’t try to separate relationships into black and white. Every interaction with him that you have is platonic, but it could also be romantic if you wanted it to be.

The question is: Do you want it to be romantic? Does he?

Sewoon’s favorite season is winter. By a very long shot. It used to be summer, but that was before he turned, before he realized that he literally always has to walk around outside covered from head to toe, unless he was looking for some intense sunburn to go along with those awful shorts of his. Now, when the seasons change and he gets to bundle up under layers upon layers of sweaters and coats and scarves, he thrives.

You quite like the colder months too, but maybe that’s just because Sewoon always looks so adorable with that bright orange puffer jacket on over four different sweaters. Like the coziest, bright orange marshmallow in the world. He’s always had a particularly cold body, even when you two were children. Not even being turned into a vamp could change that.

“You look like you’d rather die than let your skin touch the sun,” you’re commenting as the two of you get ready to go out on the town. It’s shopping season (it’s always shopping season, really), and you’re also meeting up with one of his friends at a little winter music festival in the square.

“Isn’t that kind of the point of being a vamp?” Sewoon asks as he zips up that obnoxious orange coat of his. He fishes his only pair of gloves out from the pockets of the jacket, tugging them on before turning to attack his scarf. It takes you guys almost five minutes to get from saying that you’ll leave now to actually leaving. It’s always him.

You laugh. “Sun versus Sewoon, who will come out on top?” You declare in your best wrestling commentator voice.

Sewoon smiles to himself, little white fangs peering out from his closed mouth, meeting his soft pink bottom lip. “Sun, definitely. I’d be toast.”

“Ba dum tss,” you say, noting his probably-intentional pun and grabbing your bag and opening the door, the universal signal for hurry the fuck up, let’s go before it’s tomorrow already. Sewoon gets the message and speeds up the process of putting on his boots before scurrying to join you as you make your way down the hallway.

“Are you looking forward to this music thing?” He asks as you reach the lobby. “The one that Donghyun invited us to?”

You shrug, bracing yourself for the biting wind as you leave your complex. “I guess. I’m not looking forward to standing in the cold for God-knows how long.”

“You just gotta toughen up,” Sewoon says, reaching an arm around you and tugging you close into his side. “I’ll warm you up.”

“You’re a fucking vampire. You wouldn’t warm up even if you stood in flames,” you say, frowning.

“I tried to be hospitable and welcoming and romantic and you shoot me down, once again,” Sewoon says, shaking his head in disapproval. “Stop being so realistic all of the time. It ruins the mood.”

“That’s my job.”

“Ah, yes,” Sewoon nods, chuckling to himself heartily as the two of you make your way along the sidewalks to get to the town center, “Professional Mood Ruiner. Very prestigious title. You should put that on your resumé.”

“I’ll put it right next to Vampire Moral Support,” you joke, grinning his way and shivering from the cold. He tightens his hold on you, coat warming you up in place of the body heat that he no longer possesses.

“Yes, you do that.”

Donghyun is already there when you and Sewoon finally reach the festival stage, munching on some ridiculously unhealthy thing he probably got from a food truck nearby. He turns his head, mouth filled with food, and spots the two of you huddled together to shield yourselves from the cold as you walk over to him.

“How the hell are you wearing short sleeves?” You ask, brows furrowed. “It’s winter.”

“It’s not that cold, you guys are just weak,” Donghyun retorts, making Sewoon roll his eyes. Sometimes, when he does that, you get a little worried that those brown contacts are going to dislodge themselves and reveal the red underneath. “Look, I got us a really good spot near the front.”

“Whose smartass idea was it to have a winter music festival outside,” you mutter to yourself as you and Sewoon situate yourselves together next to Donghyun, who’s already distracted and paying little to no attention to you.

Even so, the crowd is sizeable and also getting very hype over the performing artists, Donghyun included. No wonder he’s wearing some goddamn short sleeves—the body heat he must be producing with all of that obnoxious jumping is probably warming him right up. Meanwhile, you and Sewoon are just casually standing together, swaying back and forth to the rhythm of the music. You probably look like the damn softest couple in the world, hardly even dancing to the upbeat song and all bundled up together, but neither of you are protesting. Sewoon’s always been quite comfy.

Sewoon turns to smile at you when the song changes, the shadow from his cap cast over his face as his fangs gleam in front of you. Vampires have never been so damn cute, or maybe Sewoon’s just an outlier. The one adorable vamp in the population of evil, rude ones. Of course, no wonder he’s ended up with you.

When the show ends, Donghyun rushes up to the two of you from where he was standing near the stage—you hadn’t even realized he had somehow moved—an alarming amount of sweat staining his shirt from all of the excitement. Only Donghyun would fucking somehow manage to start sweating while outside in the middle of a cold winter’s day. He looks absolutely spent, to put it gently, hair matted and panting like a dog.

“Wow, have you guys even moved?” Donghyun asks the two of you in shock. “It’s like you guys have roots growing into the ground, trapping you here.”

“I think we’re quite comfortable, don’t you?” Sewoon says confidently, wrapping his arms even tighter around your body as he grins towards you, nearly knocking into your forehead with that goddamn cap of his. You nod in response, though under this thick jacket, you’re not really sure if anyone noticed.

Donghyun puts a hand up to wave off Sewoon’s words. “Whatever. You guys can keep being soft here as the crowd leaves. I’m out. Catch you later?”

He doesn’t give either of you time to respond to his posed question and suggest another date  for meeting up, just bounces off as if the weather doesn’t affect him whatsoever, skipping away like a child.

“There’s that nice coffee shop nearby,” you remember, not wanting to go back to your apartment just yet. “Wanna go?”

Sewoon nods happily, releasing you from his embrace as the two of you head in the direction of your next destination. On the way, his fingers fiddle with yours, playing a little game in between your bodies until he eventually coaxes you into just holding his hand like normal people do.

Neither of you are really quite normal.

Stepping into the steamy little corner shop, your ears and nose heat up from the sudden change in temperature, making you shiver from the contrast. You know Sewoon experiences no such sensation, but you don’t really think he minds not having that human quality anymore. Not when your shivering is just another excuse for him to wrap his body around you like a fucking hot dog bun, or something. You eventually have to force him off of you—because with his overbearing body on top of all the heat from this coffee and your own outerwear, you feel like you’re about to melt into a pile of lava right on the hardwood floor—but he doesn’t leave you alone without a teasing little smile, one that is so terribly Sewoon of him.

“Black coffee with absolutely no flavor, how intense of you,” you comment as the two of you wander over to where you can pick up your drinks. In your best rugged, bearded lumberjack voice, you say, “Only real men waste five bucks on coffee that has no taste.”

“Oh, shut up, you know why I got it,” Sewoon says, nudging your side as he rolls your eyes, fake sick of your taunting. “Besides, it tastes better than whatever sugar-filled tea you got yourself.”

“Like you know what my very, very delicious peach green tea tastes like. With your taste buds, everything just tastes like blood, to you,” you retort.

“You got me there,” Sewoon says, pointing a finger gun your way as the barista hands you your drinks.

You migrate over to an empty couch, sitting with your legs pressed up against each others to warm up even further.

“Did you like today’s thing?” Sewoon asks, taking a sip of his coffee and not even flinching when the beverage (probably) burns his tongue. Oh, the life of a vamp.

“It was alright, I guess,” you reply. shrugging. You don’t have the invincible tongue that Sewoon does, so you refrain from drinking your tea for a little longer. “I probably would have enjoyed it more if it weren’t cold and if Donghyun weren’t so… Donghyun.”

Sewoon chuckles at your description of his friend. “That’s the most relatable thing I’ve ever heard.” Another sip. “I quite liked it, actually.”

“Really? You could hear the music under all these damn layers?”

Sewoon pouts, not appreciating your humor despite the fact that you’re absolutely hilarious. “Yes, and I enjoyed it. Makes me want to go home and experiment with my own guitar, see what I can come up with.”

“Oh, please don’t,” you say, brows downturned as you finally work up the courage to have a bit of your drink. Tastes perfect. “Your experimenting isn’t as welcome as you think it is.”

“I am a great singer, thank you,” Sewoon says, playfully affronted.

“Yeah, but you’re not necessarily a good ‘let me just strum random notes on my guitar and see if something sounds nice’ person,” you respond. You don’t know how many times you’ve come home from class to hear Sewoon stringing together some awful sounding melody, woken up in the middle of the night to some obnoxious guitaring from the room beside yours because he sleeps during the day.

Sewoon laughs at your rebuttal, too smitten to come up with his own comeback. “I was hoping you’d like it, that’s why I invited you to it.”

You chuckle. “Ah, geez, thanks. Thought I was just invited because I’m your sad mortal roommate.”

“That too,” Sewoon jokes, earning a gasp and a light smack on the shoulder from you. “I’m kidding. I really did think you’d like it, though. Was considering taking you out to another festival like this one when it gets a bit warmer.”

You narrow your eyes, taking a hesitant and drawn-out sip of your tea. “Did Donghyun set you up to do this?”

“No! All me. Thought we could go together, do some festival-y type things and listen to good music,” Sewoon says, grinning and hopeful.

It sounds suspiciously like a date to your ears, but you suppose that friends can have dates. Very romantic-sounding dates. Sewoon’s playing some sort of game here, but you’re not sure if you ever read the instruction manual, so you’re kind of just bullshitting your way through it. But a date—romantic, platonic, pathetic, whatever—with Sewoon is something you find you can never really resist.

One plus side to your best friend-slash-vamp being your long-term uni roommate is the fact that the both of you are typically awake at the same time. This can mostly be chalked up to your absolute shit sleeping schedule and the fact that he has to try and be as awake as he can during the night, since he can’t really do much besides mope in a dark room with the blinds drawn when it’s day.

Truth be told, even before Sewoon turned, he always had kind of a terrible sleeping schedule, always calling you up in high school at three in the morning to go and have some ridiculous escapade in the local park, go to a gas station convenience store and buy an obscene amount of chips before pigging out on the sidewalk. Sewoon really was just meant to be a vampire. Hardly anything changed—other than his unyielding need for blood—when he was bitten. Jeong Sewoon is still Jeong Sewoon, fangs or not, and you are still his best friend, vamp qualities and all.

He doesn’t have his internship this week—something about overstaffing and boring patients and shift cuts that you didn’t pay much attention to—and he doesn’t have class either because he takes it online (so he can do it at night), so he’s kind of just… always at home. Always. To be quite frank, you don’t really like leaving Sewoon at home alone. Not that he’s been known to you to throw massive parties or constantly bring home one-night stands (in fact, he never does the latter), but this whole vampire thing is still a bit new to the both of you. There could always be this one weird trait that could pop out of nowhere and burn the whole damn complex down, and you don’t like taking that chance.

The relationship you have with him is a little weird. You’re not necessarily his caretaker, because he knows how to deal with his own shit most of the time, but you’re also not just his best friend-slash-roommate that just so conveniently happened to want to share an apartment with him. There’s this peculiar mix of friend, guardian, guide, and another thing you don’t like putting a name to.

That thing that makes you think that half of the time there’s some romantic connotation with whatever the hell you’re doing with Sewoon. Whatever it is.

At least you can go to class with peace of mind, knowing that Sewoon typically just keeps himself busy when you’re not there with naps, schoolwork, or that beat-up old guitar that drives you nuts. The one that makes him hiss at you when you try to touch it.

You come home on a Friday night to one of the nicest scenes you think you’ve ever seen in the history of your friendship with Sewoon. Candles are lit all around the living space (you didn’t even know you owned candles) and there are Christmas lights decorating the walls. Sewoon sits on the couch, not a dead animal in sight, curled up in several layers of blankets and duvets and sheets, and a DVD case rests on your coffee table.

“The hell is this?” You ask, mostly in awe as you look around, dropping your bag onto the floor beside you.

“Movie night, except I took the liberty of setting the mood,” Sewoon says, clearly proud of his work.

“What movie are we watching?” You ask in disbelief, settling in on the couch next to him.

“Zootopia,” Sewoon says as he presses a couple of buttons on the remote, bringing the two of you to the loading screen.

“Wow, very romantic. Animals walking on two feet, damn, it just gets you,” you comment sarcastically.

“Leave me alone, I know we both like this movie, so we’re watching it.”

“You know me so well,” you mutter as you let your head rest in the crook of his neck, heaps of blankets covering your bodies.

Surprisingly enough, the movie goes on perfectly and without any interruptions from Sewoon, who is notorious for pausing the movie every five minutes to say something. He just lets his arm tug you in closer as you snuggle together on your sad little couch in this homely apartment. Sewoon always laughs at the worst parts, though, and typically you’re just a little annoyed by the timing but tonight, you can’t help but relish in the sound of his giggles, heart racing when they begin and dropping when they end.

You’d be a fool to not notice the definite romantic aura this entire movie night possesses, from the candles to the blankets to the fairy lights. Even so, you swear to yourself that you’re just friends, that maybe Sewoon’s doing all of this just for fun because you guys are just friends and you’ve always been just friends and that’s how you think you’ll always be. Friends do this type of stuff for their friends? Right?

You’re almost half-asleep by the time the movie draws to a close, Shakira’s voice fading out as Sewoon lowers the volume.

“Sleepy?” He asks, voice thick with tiredness himself.

“Just a little,” you say, trying to hide it even though you know he can see right through you. “What was all of this for, anyway, Sewoon?”

Sewoon blushes a little, eyes glowing a dark burgundy in the candlelight. You’ve never seen them this shade before. “Just a thing for you.”

“For me?”

“Yeah, can’t you tell? I care about you a lot, Y/N. I never want you to leave my side,” Sewoon hums softly, and you have no idea what he’s going to say next, what else he’ll do to sweep you off your feet, until he presses his lips to yours.

This is easily the most lighthearted kiss you’ve ever had, no teeth or tongue, just a child’s playground kiss. Just his lips on yours. It makes you gasp ever so slightly, but immediately you melt into the feeling, smiling on his lips.

“So, how about it?” Sewoon asks, beaming and hopeful and promising. He’ll give you the world if it means your happiness. “Will you accept my very cheesy confession?”

You laugh into your hand, almost too in shock to say anything. Almost. “You’re such a soft vamp, Sewoon, but of course. Always. It’s always been you, Sewoon.”

Grinning in the candlelight, his fangs have never looked better.

[artificialqueens]

Even a Fool Knows When It's Gold (Katlaska) - perfectlystill

A/N: hello! this is my first rpdr fic, and it was originally posted at my ao3 here. enjoy!

summary: But ever since the first time she slept with Alaska, there’s been a tension hanging over them. Instead of resolving something, it created something.

“Why do you do it?” Trixie asks. Her voice is soft like she’s pretending to be nice, but her face is all stank.

“You know how I used drugs and alcohol to boost my self-esteem?” Katya asks.

Trixie nods.

“Well, when I got sober, my smoking increased to deal with the withdrawal.” Katya shrugs. “It’s like that.”

Trixie’s eyes narrow. “Alaska’s like a cigarette you smoke to keep from using?”

“Sure. But in this metaphor the drugs aren’t meth and vodka.” Her explanation didn’t come out right. “Like a vice.”

“In this metaphor, what are the drugs?” Trixie asks.

Katya shrugs again. That’s a good question.

*

Katya spots Alaska at the side of the stage as she’s thanking the crowd between her numbers, stupid red hat plopped on Alaska’s head. Katya’s jaw works uselessly for a second, and she’s sure someone caught the way her pupils dilated on video. At an unflattering angle, obviously. Not that she has any particularly flattering one, but she digresses.

Turning back to the crowd, a few drunk people scream their love and adoration, but most of them remain silent, hanging onto her every breath. It’s absurd, and they shouldn’t love her as much as they do, but she feeds off the attention, likes the way it seeps into the makeup and the outfits before getting peeled away with the tape and the bobby pins.

“Surprise!” she screeches. Feedback from the mic echoes around the club. “Snakes on a plane! Rats on a zipline! Crocodiles on a jetski? No. That’s too real.”

A smattering of laughter and a lot of screaming.

Katya knows what she said didn’t make much sense, but she’s known for non-sequitur, and she’s learned that people like her enough to find just about anything she says hysterical. “This next song is dedicated to my one true love,” she says, pausing for more screams and hoarse shouts about Trixie. “Trixie Mattel! Just kidding, it’s Norma Desmond. ”

She catches Alaska’s eye and winks as the opening to “Dancing Queen” floods the speakers.

It’s hard to make out Alaska’s expression under the brim of her hat, but she claps, head tilting back with a laugh.

It makes something in Katya’s chest swell, and she returns her attention to the crowd, focusing on releasing all the remaining energy in her body onto them. Like cum. Ba dum tss.

*

“You bitch,” Katya says, shoving Alaska’s shoulder.

“Good to see you, too,” Alaska drawls, stumbling into a shove back. “Whore.”

“Cunt.” Katya smiles.

Alaska splays a hand over her heart and tilts her head, a softness to the purse of her lips. “You flatter me.”

“I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Neither did I.”

“Guess you had nothing better to do.” Katya flutters her eyelashes and smooths some hair out of her face.

Alaska scoffs. “My image rehabilitater sent me.”

“I knew the unmistakable scent of threatened obscurity and charity work lingered around you.” She makes a show of sniffing Alaska, bending to get at her armpits, and imagines herself like a pig in heat. If Alaska were Trixie, Katya would say the last part aloud, but Alaska is not Trixie, and as Katya watches the way laugh lines begin to crinkle around Alaska’s eyes, she’s very aware of that.

When Alaska gives herself to the laugh, Katya can’t help but join in. Making Alaska laugh is neither difficult nor easy once she decides she likes you. She has a good sense of humor, sharp and acerbic, but not arrogant. She’ll laugh at the easiest, most obvious joke if it tickles her fancy. She’ll laugh at just about anything that surprises her, and Katya tries her best to do that, because she loves surprising people.

She loves surprising Alaska.

It’s sort of her thing.

Except well, Alaska’s here tonight.

And that’s a surprise.

“How’d I do?” Katya asks before taking the bottle of water one of the home girls offers her. Katya thanks the queen before she scoots toward the stage, relishes the crackle when she twists the water’s lid, cap separating from the neck.

“Good.”

“Good?” She raises an eyebrow, leading Alaska toward the dressing room and her station at the back.

Alaska adopts a slower voice with extra vocal fry: “Great. Amazing. Fantastic. Perfect. Beautiful–”

“Linda Evangelista. Stoned these tights,” Katya finishes, laughing.

“You’re smiling!” Alaska says, words overlapping with Katya’s. “Wait, Linda stoned those tights?”

Katya’s tights aren’t stone.

It’s neither here nor there.

“Yes, Barbara. She’s a close personal friend.”

“Linda and Barbara?” Alaska asks, laugh coating her throat, eyes going wide and bright.

“I’ve got an en-tour-age,” Katya drawls. “Hey! You killed it tonight. I’m a corpse bleeding out from the inside,” she tells one of the girls she passes by, tapping her shoulder. Katya thinks her name is Tessa Stickler. She’s never met her before, but she had loved her immediately.

“Thanks?” Tessa eyes Katya and Alaska, voice light and pleased, but face scrunched a bit in confusion. “You too.”

“See you around,” Katya says, twisting to get by the chairs pulled out from various vanities, grunting like it’s more difficult than it actually is.

She hears Alaska say “hi” to Tessa.

Katya unscrews her water, takes a swig, and reaches her own, temporary station. It’s in the same room as the other girls, but all the way in the back, removed. There’s a black curtain she could pull across to separate herself. She doesn’t, and she wouldn’t begrudge a queen who would, but she also thinks it’s a bit high and mighty when competing on a TV show doesn’t actually make you better than anyone.

Katya turns, sees Alaska finishing a chat with Tessa, Tessa leaning forward and up, fixated on Alaska, who manages to look impossibly even taller standing while the other queen sits.

Katya pulls out her chair and plops down, staring at her own face. She likes her brows even though she arched them more than she usually does. A patch of skin under her right jaw isn’t as blended as it should be, but her red lipstick’s stuck in place. She leans closer, finds a hair’s width of smear under her bottom lip from when she kissed that girl up front. Not bad at all.

“Boo,” Alaska hisses, dropping a palm to the edge of the vanity and leaning down.

“How’s Tessa?”

“I told her to drop the ‘A’ and add cancer to the end of her name.”

“Tess Stickler Cancer,” Kayta says, the end of the name a screaming laugh that goes silent, her mouth open and body careening back and then forward, hands on her knees.

“I don’t know why she stopped at testicular,” Alaska offers.

Katya drops her voice, allows it to fake boom around them: “Welcome to stage four, Tess Stickler Cancer!”

One of her favorite things about Alaska is how much she loves drag and how much she loves other people’s drag: the names, the outfits, the makeup, the humor and entertainment, a political statement or crude joke. She respects the artform, and she loves the culture, hasn’t ever seemed to tire of it. It exhausts some queens – sometimes Katya wants to lie prostrate on stage and do nothing, but even that’s more physical than the mental and emotional exhaustion Trixie’s described with her art. But never Alaska, at least not in the same way. Her heart and soul are always in it.

Katya’s laughing at Alaska rapping “Tessi Cancer,” when Alaska exhales, says: “You really were good tonight.”

“Thanks.” Katya doesn’t look up to Alaska in the reverential, fangirl, nay, fanwoman way she used to before All Stars 2, but it’s still nice to get her approval. It makes Katya smile a small thing that has no teeth, that probably looks insincere and weird on her face.

“What are you getting up to tonight?”

Katya pulls out a makeup wipe. “I don’t know. You.”

“Ooooh,” Alaska moans in that stupid, silly way of hers that Katya loves. “Can’t. I ate beans like an hour ago.”

“You could still blow me,” Katya deadpans.

Alaska laughs, face scrunched up, hat tilting back on her head.

*

They do end up at Katya’s place, watching Friends reruns on television until they turn into Saved by the Bell.

“I always wanted to be Kelly,” Katya says, gulping down the last bit of soda from her bottle and setting it on the endtable.

“Really?” Alaska’s curled next to her on the sofa, knees digging into her thigh. Alaska is so thin in a way Katya normally doesn’t go for, reminds her too much of herself, but rules are meant to be broken and all that.

Katya might also be a narcissist. She hasn’t ruled it out.

“I mean, I was more interested in kissing Slater than Zach, but Zach has that personality, you know?”

“You liked Zach for his personality?” Alaska asks, a fond giggle in her throat that makes Katya feel hazy, like ASMR or whatever.

“I liked Screech for his personality.”

Alaska shifts, and Katya feels their arms rub together. “Fucking weirdo.”

“Takes one to know one.”

Katya’s voice comes out in a whisper, and her eyes droop. She fights against a yawn, can see the sun beginning to rise through the curtains. Alaska is warm against her, leaning their bodies together, and it’s too nice and too intimate.

If it were almost anyone else, it wouldn’t be, and if it were almost any other pair of queens she passed backstage or on a bus, Katya wouldn’t even blink. But ever since the first time she slept with Alaska, there’s been a tension hanging over them. Instead of resolving something, it created something.

She doesn’t know what to do with that.

*

They fall asleep on the sofa.

Katya wakes up slumped over sideways, Alaska’s head on her chest and body leaning heavily into her legs. An allergy commercial plays on TV.

She’s careful as she gets up to pee, hissing as she puts pressure on her asleep foot.

When she re-enters the living room, Alaska’s unfurled a little on the sofa, her knees still bent, hair a mess from her hat and Katya’s fingers. Katya watches Alaska’s eyes dart behind her lids, wonders what she thinks about, wonders what it’d be like to dive into her brain and see the genius there.

Pulling a blanket off her bed, Katya spreads it over Alaska, fingers lingering against her shoulder.

She sleeps in her own bed.

Katya isn’t sure if that’s responsible, or if it’s just admitting to the fucked up mess they create when they’re together.

*

They’re out to lunch, all the other girls still sleeping off their hangovers.

The sun is bright, streaming into the little deli they found a few blocks from the hotel. Alaska’s got sprouts in her salad, and Katya made a comment about how she doesn’t eat grass. Alaska said that made sense, because she’s “not a fancy cow. Just a regular, slutty cow.”

“The first time I met Kim,” Alaska starts, dragging a piece of spinach around the rim of her bowl, “I asked for an autograph. So she goes to her desk, pulls a photo of herself and Trixie off the mirror, and hands it to me.”

“Sure,” Katya offers when Alaska pauses.

“Unsigned.”

“You didn’t pay for the merch.”

“I had a marker, and she wanted me to sign the picture for her.”

Katya smirks. “She thought you were offering to give her an autograph. God, her ego’s ballooned since then.”

Alaska snorts, lighthearted and soft. “And she wanted me to sign a picture of herself.”

“In her defense, I’d sign pictures of her. We’re practically twins.” Katya bats her eyes.

“You’re more Asian than Manila,” Alaska drawls.

“Racist.” Katya bites on her lip so she doesn’t howl. There’s an old couple eating lunch at the table next to them, and they’ve already asked her to be quiet twice.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Alaska asks, looking up to recall the memory herself.

“Yes, but I don’t like to talk about it.”

Alaska narrows her eyes. “Why not?”

“Because I ridiculously embarrassed myself, which isn’t uncommon, but also because if you don’t remember, that’s one embarrassing moment I can erase from my history without relapsing.”

“Come on, now you have to tell me!” Alaska takes a bite of salad and sets her fork down, leaning closer, eyebrows furrowing in a way that hints toward frustration. Alaska is stubborn as anything, and Katya knows she’ll pester her throughout lunch, the rest of the night, waiting in the airport tonight before the tour flies to Canada, on the plane, tomorrow. Probably forever.

“You were wasted,” Katya says.

Alaska’s mouth tilts down. “That bad, huh?”

“I mean, yeah.” Katya takes a sip of water. “You might actually prefer that I don’t tell you.”

“You’re not getting out of this one that easy.”

Katya sighs. “It was before season five, and I went down to Pittsburg to see your show.”

“Did I accidentally shit myself on stage?”

“No, that part was definitely on purpose.” Katya can’t help but crack a smile, wheezing when Alaska rolls her eyes and kicks at her under the table. “You were incredible, and I was in awe. Grotesque and irreverent and controversial. Like, truly disgusting.”

Alaska blinks. “We’re discussing that later.”

“I stumbled into you at the bar after like a stalker, and I was all decked out in my frizziest wig, and you told me I looked like a dead dandelion.”

“I’m sure you did,” Alaska says, a smile twitching around her mouth.

“Oh, totally. The best compliment. And then you let me buy you a drink.”

“Okay,” Alaska says, drawing the word out until it’s eleven syllables.

“We had a nice little chat where I gushed at you and you told me you couldn’t understand what I was saying. And then I ripped your dress.”

“You what?”

“You told me I owed you ten dollars.” Katya shakes her head.

Alaska laughs. “I’m sure I doubled the price.”

“It was a piece of fabric safety pinned together.”

Alaska howls, and Katya gets a kick out of the old man at the table next to them saying “this is why people hate the gays” loud enough for them to hear.

“I apologized, and then asked for a picture, and you told me ‘No.’ Not until you got the money, and I actually fucking gave you a twenty.”

“Shit,” Alaska laughs. “I was a hoot.”

“A hoot!” Katya mocks, as high and gay as she can make herself sound. “I didn’t even get the stupid picture.”

“We can take one now,” Alaska says, eyes dancing with mirth. “That’s not that bad.”

“You don’t get it.” Katya shakes her head. “You weren’t there.”

She remembers the anxiety that beat against her ribcage, the fear that Alaska would never let her into Blue Moon again, that she’d be banned for life. She remembers the panic that made her lungs shallow and her throat close up, feeling like she would drown in her own sweat. All her thoughts were irrational, converging until she got high in a shitty motel that smelled like a combination of lemon cleaner and unwashed ass.

But she doesn’t want to tell Alaska that.

“You’re right,” Alaska agrees, picking up her fork. “The second time was better.”

“It was,” Katya agrees. “Anyway, so I just remembered you owe me twenty dollars.”

Alaska throws her head back, adam’s apple bobbing in her throat as she cackles.

The old man mutters: “At least they’re not playing footsie.”

*

Katya wakes up naked and shivering in Alaska’s hotel room, because some time after they fell asleep, Alaska managed to steal all the sheets. Katya tugs the comforter out from under Alaska’s body, squeezing her eyes shut and ignoring the groan of protest Alaska gives as she snuggles closer.

“You’re cold,” Alaska mutters, foot pressing against Katya’s shin in a weak attempt to push her away. In the morning her voice is hoarse and scratchy, deeper than it is when she’s fully awake and halfway through her first cup of tea. It goes straight to Katya’s dick.

“Your fault.”

“Lies,” Alaska says.

Katya gloms on. “You could warm me up.”

“You can’t afford it,” Alaska says, a smile flirting in the tilt of her mouth.

“Hey, I’m the only prostitute here.” Katya burrows her face against Alaska, nipping where her throat curves into her neck.

“That’s not fair,” Alaska whines, shifting and pulling her arm out from under her side, splaying her palm against Katya’s chest. “You know I have the cash.”

“I already stole it from your purse.” Katya grins against her shoulder.

“Well, in that case,” Alaska whispers, eyes fluttering open and fingertips marching down Katya’s chest in a zigzag pattern. “Might as well get my money’s worth.”

*

After, Alaska leans over, opening the nightstand drawer and pulling out the room service offerings. “How do you feel about seasonal fruits and berries?”

“I just had your dick in my mouth, so I think I’ve made my thoughts pretty clear.”

Alaska huffs, smacking Katya gently. “You’re insufferable.”

“Honestly, as long as I get some coffee, it’s good.”

“Coffee is seven dollars.”

“The caffeine headache will be worth it.”

They order fruit and toast, and Katya scrolls through Twitter while Alaska showers.

They haven’t seen each other in four months, their bookings failing to align in both location and time. They haven’t spoken in over a month, aside from excitement about their New York shows both being the same weekend, this weekend.

Katya didn’t miss Alaska, not explicitly.

She always pulls more than her fair share of road trade. And she always has Trixie to Facetime and force herself on. Her fans are always up to watch her livestream walking down the street, or waxing poetic about restaurants that are open 24 hours, or contemplating the meaning of life.

But still, Katya finds there’s something nice about being with someone familiar. She likes that she knows Alaska loses it a little when she bites the soft underside of her knee, and she likes remembering the way Alaska kisses, only to find it’s even better than her brain recalled, because you never really can trust that thing. She didn’t have to ask Alaska to pinch her nipple when she was getting close, or worry that they wouldn’t be compatible. Katya’s had sex with a lot of men, and incompatible sex isn’t necessarily awful, but it’s not good, either. It always leads to her feeling unsatisfied and finding somewhere to smoke through half a pack of cigarettes.

Speaking of which, or, thinking of which: “Laska! I’m gonna go smoke on the balcony.”

“What if the food comes?”

“I’ll leave the screen open,” Katya says, throwing her phone onto the bed and standing.

“Then there’ll be smoke in the room!”

Katya rummages through her luggage, pulling out the new pack she bought last night. “Not a lot.”

“If I get fined, I’m sending you the bill.”

“I’ll just tip well.” Katya rolls her eyes. She doubts the waiter is going to run downstairs to tattle on her.

“Whatever!” Alaska huffs.

It’s warm for a fall day in the city, and Katya leans over the rail, watching the hustle and bustle. She takes a moment to be grateful for her life, for the chance to be here right now. Her brain naturally veers to the bad, but one of her therapists once told her to remember the good stuff. She doesn’t make lists or any of that nerd shit, but during her morning smoke, she tries to greet the day with, if not positivity, neutrality.

Katya hits the pack against her palm before fishing out one cigarette and lighting it. The first pull settles nicely in her chest, and with the first exhale the tension in her shoulders unfurls. The day is bright but not sunny, and she likes that. She doesn’t have to squint.

She’s halfway through her cigarette when she hears the screen open, feels Alaska wrap her arms around her waist and rest her chin on her shoulder. “How long does it take to wash some berries and toast some bread?”

Katya shrugs, likes how Alaska’s fingers tighten, her body following the motion. “Maybe they’re waiting until I’m done.” She waves the cigarette obnoxiously in Alaska’s face. “You want some?”

“Not a habit I’m looking to fall back into.”

“Okay.” Katya takes one more pull and then flicks the cherry, shoving the nub back into the box for later.

She pulls out her phone and reads Alaska today’s headlines. She listens to Alaska’s thoughts about how congress is filled with a bunch of cowardly warts who aren’t getting anything done because then they don’t have to answer to people either way, and how the weather today might be nice, but global warming will probably kill her faster than the secondhand smoke she just inhaled.

They head inside when the food finally shows up, setting it up carefully in the middle of the bed.

“Do you ever wonder what you’ll do when this is all over?” Katya asks.

“When what’s over?” Alaska digs around the cantaloupe so she can grab a cube of honeydew.

“Your drag career.”

“No,” Alaska says, popping the melon into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “I mean, I’ll probably stop traveling so much when I’m decrepit like Raja, but I don’t think I’ll ever stop doing drag until I’m physically dying. Even if I’m not making money off it. I was broke once. I survived.”

“Yeah.” Katya chews on her bottom lip. “Me too.”

“I know.” Alaska looks at her with a seriousness that makes Katya sit up straighter. “You’re like me that way.”

“A rotted cunt?”

“Yeah,” Alaska laughs. “It’s in your bones. It’s like, with some girls who have been doing this a long time, you can tell they don’t love it anymore. At least not how they used to.”

“I met a queen in Texas a few weeks ago who told me if she doesn’t get cast on Drag Race by the time she’s thirty, she’s quitting and becoming an accountant. And I was like, shit, am I a grandma? Would I rather have my fans call me Grandma?”

“Trixie’s like that,” Alaska says.

“A grandma?” Katya asks, but she feels like she should be offended on her best friend’s behalf.

It must show on her face, because Alaska rolls her eyes and clarifies: “It’s not bad. She just wants to get married and settle down. Be a stay-at-home mom to two and a half kids.”

Katya nods. “Kids are gross.”

“You’ll love her kids.”

“Yeah.”

Katya can picture it: Trixie living in some neighborhood outside LA, a white picket fence and a gaggle of mini Trixie’s to raise. Trixie’s the kind of person who hates all children, but she’ll love her own more than Katya will ever love anything. She’ll yell at any kid who dares to look at them wrong and ask their teacher why they were boring enough for her children to be talking in class in the first place. Overprotective and annoying and awful.

And Katya will get to be the cool aunt who teaches them basic gymnastics and sneaks them weed. It’s a nice future, even if thinking about it too much marrs the edges of the image with loneliness and restlessness.

“You don’t want that?” Katya asks, dipping the corner of her toast directly into the butter continental and scooping it out like salsa on a chip.

“God, no,” Alaska says. “I’m too selfish and immature for that.”

And like a sign from the God whose name Alaska just used in vain, a God Katya really doesn’t believe in, by the way, Alaska’s phone rings: My boyfriend’s back, and you’re gonna be in trouble, hey la, hey la, day la.

“Who’s got that ringtone?” Kayta asks.

Alaska bends over, pulling on the sheets to move her cell into reach. “Drew.”

“Ah, yes, Drew, of the house of Nancy or Berrymore?” Katya pops the rest of her toast into her mouth and chews.

“My stupid ass boyfriend. But his ass is anything but stupid.”

“Ah,” Katya sighs.

The Angels croon You’ve been spreading lies that I was untrue right before Alaska picks up.

Katya laughs so hard she has to spit the chewed up bread into a napkin to make sure she doesn’t choke.

“Hey,” Alaska greets before pausing to listen. “I ended up leaving the club earlier than I thought, super exhausted. Couldn’t even finish an episode of House Hunters.” A longer pause. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m late to meet Nick for an early lunch, so I’ll call you tonight?” She hums, chewing on her bottom lip. “Yeah, I’ll text you soon. Okay, yeah. Miss you, too. Bye.”

“That’s going well,” Katya says.

Alaska throws the last piece of toast at her, crumbs scattering over the sheets, and Katya laughs like a banshee.

Goddamn fucking shit.

*

Alaska is a cheater.

Katya knows that.

Everybody knows.

She cheated on Sharon, she cheated on the guy after Sharon, and she probably cheated on the guy after that. It’s hard to keep track, especially when she’s private about her relationships. She shares details with her friends, and Katya knows Alaska considers her a friend, but they’re both busy. It’s easier to remember to Facetime her after they’ve shared a gig, or when Alaska’s just done something particularly jaw-dropping during a performance that Twitter won’t let her miss. And even then, Alaska is good for a laugh, a discussion about drag, a Golden Girls quote-off that Katya loses within seconds, but not so much deep conversations about her love life.

Sometimes they indulge a bit.

Most times they don’t.

Katya thinks that’s fair enough.

She wouldn’t want to discuss her current boyfriend with a person she cheated on her last boyfriend with, either.

*

The first time she sleeps with Alaska, it’s after All Stars 2, and Alaska is most definitely single and emotionally unavailable. Which is exactly the kind of person Katya likes to fuck, because she is often single and emotionally unavailable herself.

Alaska’s a bit tipsy, but not anywhere near drunk, and Katya doesn’t kiss her on the mouth because she hasn’t brushed her teeth. It’s fine, because she kisses her everywhere else, and because Alaska keeps letting out soft, breathy groans that are more obscene than any porn Katya’s ever watched.

Alaska leaves a hickey on Katya’s hip, like they’re frisky high school kids, and begs Katya to eat her out, and Katya’s pretty sure she had this fantasy multiple times while season five was airing.

“Thanks,” Alaska says after, a sheen of sweat still coating her skin.

“No, thank you,” Katya replies. “I needed a new, non-hairy ass for my spank bank.”

“Aw,” Alaska coos, brushing her hair back. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“It’s what I’m most known for. Other than mental illness and rabies.”

“I’ll take snakes any day,” Alaska laughs, nice and warm.

“Imagine if you had ophidiophobia.” Katya mouth drops open. “Oh my god, you’d be afraid of yourself! You’d never be able to look in a mirror or at a clear body of water.”

Alaska’s laugh has faded into a soft smile, and Katya has never seen her like this before: satiated and open, friendly in a way that feels honest and raw. She knows what it’s like to have Alaska at her mercy now, and instead of it terrifying Alaska, Alaska had enjoyed it. Katya thinks it’s better than if she had won that lip sync. This is the good kind of vulnerability, something that endears her to Alaska instead of something that annoys her.

In some ways, this is the Alaska she always hoped to know.

Not the sex stuff, which was amazing, but the closeness.

“When you shed your skin, do you recognize yourself in the mirror?” Katya asks, and it sounds like another snake joke, but it’s not.

“Sometimes.” Alaska yawns, and it makes Katya sympathy yawn. There’s a hint of faded eyeliner under Alaska’s lashes that she must have been too lazy to get all the way off, and Katya didn’t think there was anything Alaska ever did halfway, or ninety-nine percent, as the case may be. Katya wants to run her finger over the smudges, lick them away.

Maybe she’s more tired than she thought.

“This whole thing has forced me to be more comfortable with who I am, even the worst parts of myself.”

“You don’t deserve it, you know,” Katya says. “I mean, you were a fucking brat, but the irony of all them throwing hissy fits because you threw one?”

“I know.” Alaska’s mouth tilts up, but it’s a little sad.

Katya feels her heart clench. She ignores it, because the idea of thinking about it makes her stomach knot. “I need an animal to paste onto shirts.”

“Oh,” Alaska whispers. “Cow is too obvious.”

“Donkey, too.”

“Some type of bird with that beak of yours.”

“Hey!” Katya scoffs, fake-affronted. “I have never felt self-conscious of my nostrils until now. You couldn’t just come for something I already know about, like my receding hairline?”

“Bald eagle,” Alaska says, eyes gleaming and wide.

“Fuck off, Brenda.” Katya leans forward to shove Alaska onto her back.

“What,” Alaska drawls, rolling back towards Katya, voice going full-tilt Alaska. “They’re regal. Everyone who says you were robbed would agree.”

“You earned it,” Katya says. “Hell, even I would have given it to you. And I needed those dollas, sis. You couldn’t have offered me ten grand via Paypal, too?”

Alaska rolls her eyes, rolls closer again. Katya can feel her breath on her chin, the alcohol is still there, but it’s gone stale. “I scored some really good weed.”

“Yes,” Katya blurts. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“I didn’t offer you any.”

“Bitch,” Katya says, but it’s too fond, and she finds herself biting her lip as Alaska goes to retrieve it.

She finds herself watching the sharp wings of Alaska’s shoulder blades.

She finds herself wanting to bite them, leave a hickey of her own.

*

Katya watches all the girls file out, Trixie stopping to squeeze her hand. “You want me to hang back? Lose out on a chance to meet the love of my life? Miss an opportunity to bond with everyone? Because I’ll do it for you.”

“Go.” Katya rolls her eyes. “I’ll just jump on you at the ass crack of dawn and demand a play-by-play.”

“Can I kick you out of our room if I find a man?”

“Just leave,” Katya says, pushing Trixie toward the door, but she pulls her back, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek and cackling as Trixie pretends to retch and wipe it off. “Love you, whore!”

“You, too, buzzkill!”

*

Katya’s sipping Sprite from a plastic cup and watching Rosemary’s Baby when there’s a knock on her door. “Did you lose your keycard?” she asks, pausing the film.

“I never had one,” Alaska calls.

“A stranger in a strange land,” Kayta says, adopting her best reporter-slash-southern drawl. “Will the elegant, simple, everyday, gorgeous, biological woman get murdered, or find something more sinister lurking behind the door?”

“Mother,” Alaska says, her Norman Bates better than ever.

“Mother isn’t quite herself today,” Katya laughs, pulling the door open. “What are you doing here?”

Alaska shrugs, her eyes darting back into the room. “Sharon took something and was getting handsy, so I handed her off to Chad.”

“Ah, yes.” Katya nods, stepping aside and sweeping her arm over the room behind her. “As you can see, I have also taken something and am having a wild night.”

“I don’t want to intrude,” Alaska says, all sincerity, shifting her weight on her feet and looking down.

“I can always use the company.”

Alaska lets herself have fun, and she takes care of the people she loves, but she’s also shifted into living in a way that’s more responsible and restrained, in a way that Katya has only really ever known her to live. She didn’t know Alaska when she was with Sharon, when she was spending every waking moment drunk, when cocaine stopped making her more friendly and made her feel like the blunt edge of a used knife, dull and useless.

Alaska’s really too sharp for that.

By the inward curve of her body, Katya suspects that maybe it wasn’t just Sharon, that Detox was high off her silicone ass, that Jinkx was three sheets to the wind, that Naomi had gotten lost in the crowd of men. That tonight the veil between Alaska’s own particular brand of sobriety and relapse was particularly thin, and she had to get out of there.

“You want Sprite?”

“Water?” Alaska asks, toeing off her shoes by the end of Katya’s bed.

Katya grabs one of the bottles from the mini fridge, tossing it to Alaska once she’s settled against a pillow on Katya’s designated bed. She laughs when Alaska flinches and holds her hands in front of her face, causing the bottle to smack against her forearms and fall against the sheets.

“10 out of 10 for hand-eye coordination!”

“Shut up,” Alaska whines, but a smile flirts around her eyes. She looks at the paused television screen. “Where did you get a copy of my origin story?”

Katya wheezes. “Your dad.”

“Can’t trust you to not fuck anyone’s dad, huh?”

“You can take a slut out of the dad, but you can’t take the dad out of the slut.”

Alaska’s forehead crinkles, her eyebrows sloping inward, mouth pursed in confusion. “You can’t change a slut’s spots. Because it’s–”

“Herpes!” Katya cuts her off, falling face forward onto the mattress, feet dangling over the side of the bed.

“A rash not a herpes sore,” Alaska corrects, voice light, like whatever was distressing her is already starting to fade away.

Katya offers to start the movie over, but Alaska waves her off because she’s seen the film many times. “And besides, it’s getting late.”

Alaska talks during the movie, which Katya would normally find annoying, but she’s also seen it many times, and Alaska’s commentary is insanely dumb and incredibly witty, all at once. It allows Katya to be more present in the moment, eyes open even as they begin to ache with want of sleep. Alaska doesn’t complain about Katya using each bout of laughter to shift closer to her, even though it’s transparent, a straight boy coughing and dropping his hand onto his girlfriend’s breast.

As Rosemary cradles her baby and the credits begin to roll, Alaska asks: “What are the moral ramifications of watching this?”

“We’re part of a cult and have sold our souls to Satan.”

Alaska smacks her gently, and Katya uses it as an opportunity to drop her head against Alaska’s bony shoulder. “No, the Polanski of it all.”

“Well,” Katya begins, wetting her lips. “The youths on the internet would call us problematic, be upset at me for the next six hours and rally against you for the next six months.”

Alaska’s huff sounds equal parts annoyed and endeared. “I’m serious. I want to know.”

Katya lifts her head. Alaska does not make a good pillow. “I bought this movie like 18 years ago, I don’t think actually watching it from time to time is an endorsement of Polanski. I do and say a lot of shitty things, and I never apologize for them, but I think this one is relatively okay.”

“You should never apologize for anything,” Alaska says.

“Right.” Katya shuts the television off before sliding down the bed and pulling the covers up over her shoulders. “That’s how they get you.”

“It’s a trap!” Alaska giggles, a slow, tired thing. “Anyway, thanks for tonight. I’ll just … go.”

“You don’t have to.”

Alaska looks down at her, and Katya can see her brain working in a way Alaska is normally so good at masking.

It starts to make spiders crawl all over Katya’s skin. “Just flip off the lights,” she says, sadness weaving through the words. Katya thinks it’s probably a mixture of exhaustion and anxiety.

“Okay.” Alaska worries her bottom lip.

She gets up, hovers around the end of the bed, and then, instead of turning off the lights and leaving, she flips the switch and crawls next to Katya, fluffing her pillow before settling in.

Katya flexes her toes against the mattress, curls her fingers to keep from reaching out.

They wake up maybe two hours later to Trixie, too loud: “I can’t believe I didn’t find anyone to hook up with, but you trapped yourself in the room and managed it.”

Alaska groans, and Katya blinks, and Trixie flips on the light on the table between the two beds.

“You fucked Alaska!?”

“No, Jesus,” Katya whispers. “Can you stop yelling?”

Alaska leaves for her own room, and Katya rolls her eyes at the mixture of pity and disgust Trixie stares into her before throwing her hands into the air. “I can’t leave you alone for anything!”

*

They share a gig in Brazil.

The crowd is completely bonkers. Louder and more enthusiastic than fans anywhere else. The feeling that washes over Katya as she scoots off stage while the host banters and introduces the next number is akin to an orgasm, toe-curling and electric and good.

“You ready?” Alaska asks.

“Never.” Katya smiles, patting her palm against the top of her hair to smooth it out.

“If you forget the words it’s fine, I do it all the time.”

“Professional fish!”

Alaska laughs before motioning to Katya’s hair. “May I?”

“Yeah.”

Alaska gently tugs the wig straight, and then she takes a step back, admiring her work. “Beautiful.”

“I know.” Katya flips some hair over her shoulder, a faux cocky lilt to the words.

One of the club’s organizers taps on their shoulders, and Katya hears the host call out their names again. The wall of sound the crowd doesn’t seem to stop producing miraculously increasing as she and Alaska move just closer to the stage, an inch out of view.

“Break a leg,” Alaska drawls.

Katya slaps her ass, and Alaska yelps a little before grabbing the microphone and rolling her shoulders back.

The pulsing beat of “Call Your Girlfriend” floods the speakers, and Katya marches out behind Alaska, the crowd louder still.

When Alaska starts mumbling the lyrics into the microphone, low and absurd, Katya can’t help but pull her foot behind herself, throwing her other arm out, and doing her best to bounce herself in a circle. Some messed up version of the sprinkler.

She grimaces, throws imaginary objects at Alaska, pretends to burst into tears, and then turns around, arms crossed over her body and hands reaching to her back, abdomen wiggling in a fake makeout session.

The crowd seems louder and louder and louder with each passing word, and Katya feels the beat of their screams mixing with the bass of the song, her body a drum being hit over and over and over.

She spins back around: “Don’t you tell her that I give you something that you never even knew you missed.”

Sashaying over to Alaska, Katya licks a strip up her cheek after the line about kissing, and it feels full circle.

Katya enjoys the way Alaska exaggerates rocking her hips toward her. It’s fun and stupid and sexy, and even though Katya doesn’t normally sing live, Alaska makes it easier, and only partially because she purposefully distorts her own voice. She makes Katya feel comfortable, like she can sound off-key and gross, and it doesn’t matter as long as they’re both living in the moment, feeding off each other’s energy and putting on a show the crowd is going to remember for the rest of their lives, or maybe not at all, depending on the kind of fun they’re having.

Katya spins around during the dance break until she gets dizzy, sees Alaska blurring at the edge of her vision but not clear enough to make out what she’s doing. Katya steadies herself and touches a few hands in the front row before jumping into a split when the beat drops. All the blood and sound rushes to her ears, makes her feel lightheaded and alive.

Alaska takes over singing as Katya gets up and gets her bearings. Then, she screams along: “Call your girlfriend!”

They end back to back, looking out at the crowd, until Katya melts to the floor, arms wrapping around Alaska’s leg, Alaska stretching out the last “new,” voice going up and down like a yo-yo. Katya wants to pretend to bite her, but she doesn’t.

“Obrigada,” Alaska says into the mic.

“Eu te amo, Brazil,” Katya adds, taking Alaska’s offered hand to help her up from the floor.

Katya leaves the stage first and watches from the wings as Alaska bends toward the crowd, shaking people’s hands, thanking them for coming, and taking the few tips offered.

There’s a reason so many people love her, Katya thinks, and watching her now, there’s no question as to why.

*

Katya follows Alaska toward her kitchen. “Sorry, I’m running late. Still chopping vegetables for chili.”

There’s a large cutting board on the counter, an unplugged crockpot next to it, and a smattering of peppers diced into inches, a couple of strips uncut. There’s also a large knife that makes Katya think of serial killers and stabbing people in the stomach.

“It’s okay, we’ll still get to the studio before Alyssa.”

“It’s okay,” Alaska’s voice fries slowly, “because it’s Alyssa.”

“Gutted! Rotted! Gila Monster!”

“Beast!” They scream simultaneously, voices low.

Katya leans against the counter and watches as Alaska’s long fingers curl around the knife, steady and sure. Alaska works slowly, running the knife through the green, red and yellow peppers, mouth straight and thin. It’s reminiscent of watching Alaska paint her face, practiced and precise.

When the edge of the counter starts to go dull against her ribs, Katya plucks a pepper.

“Heeeey,” Alaska whines. “I’m trying to make dinner.”

“Not for me.” Katya steals another pepper before standing up to look into the pot. It’s filled with beans and carrots and some tomato sauce. “You said this is supposed to be chili?”

“It’s healthy.”

“Looks disgusting.”

Alaska points the knife at Katya. “Good thing it’s not for you.”

She laughs, can’t help the way it bubbles out of her. “You want help?”

“No, please just stand there looking pretty.”

“You think I’m pretty.” Katya clasps her hands together and kicks one leg behind her, eyelashes fluttering.

“Yeah,” Alaska snorts. “Pretty ugly.”

“You wish you had this mug.”

“You should paint me,” Alaska says, breezy, picking up her cutting board and using the back of the knife to scrape the peppers into the pot.

“What?” Katya tilts her head. She’s not really known for being a makeup artist. She can paint herself, and she knows she looks good, passable, daytime woman and all that jazz. But she rarely tries her hand at a different face.

“Not today, obviously.”

Katya rolls her eyes. “Obviously.”

“But some other time. Could be fun.”

“Sure,” Katya shrugs.

She watches Alaska continue making her disgusting excuse for chili, eyes darting from the clock on her phone to the sharpness of Alaska’s knuckles and the furrow of her eyebrows, expression pinched, veering on frustrated.

“Is there anything I can do?” Katya asks seriously as Alaska stops chopping mid-onion, bottom lip pulled into her mouth, eyes closed and chin tilted up toward the ceiling. “I have no tear ducts, so I’m excellent at onions.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” The knife clatters against the counter and Alaska steps away, running a hand through her hair, the pieces sticking up in every direction.

“Okay.” Katya picks the handle up gingerly and pulls the cutting board toward herself. “I didn’t know you cooked.”

“Not often,” Alaska says. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s nice when you serve vulnerability. Show the judges that versatility, darling.”

Alaska laughs, a hoarse, sarcastic sound that makes Katya shiver. “Kenneth is coming over for dinner tonight.”

“Kenneth is the gayest name I’ve ever heard.”

This time Alaska’s laugh is much nicer, warm and wonderful. Katya has to bite down around the smile her face tries to pull itself into without her consent. Too much in a way she knows Alaska would never notice, but that she would never be able to forget.

“Ken-neth, Kenn-e-the, kenneth,” Katya says, working the name around her mouth until it doesn’t sound like a real word, like the real name of a very real person, until her tongue feels too big.

“I think he’s going to ask me to move in with him.”

Katya has to look away from the onion to gauge Alaska’s reaction: her shoulders hiked to her ears, face flush, wringing her hands. It’s the face of someone on the witness stand who’s just told ten lies and is about to admit to the truth instead. Katya’s been watching a lot of Law and Order, recently. Sue her. “And that’s a bad thing because?”

“I can’t.”

“Right.” Katya nods.

“I travel too much, and he wants a family, and I cheated on him last week in Miami.”

“You really like Florida, don’t you?” Katya jokes. Alaska glares at her. “Jesus, sorry.”

“And then he’s going to break up with me because we already had a conversation about where he wants this relationship to go.”

Katya frowns. “That sucks.”

She’s had her heart broken before; she knows what it feels like. Her experiences range from numbness to the five stages of grief. Katya’s really good at denial and depression, anger and acceptance are harder for her to come by.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Alaska whispers, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Nothing’s wrong with you.”

Alaska snorts.

“Sharon really did a number on you, huh?” Katya finishes chopping the last piece of onion, her own eyes starting to sting.

“Sharon did a lot of shit to me, but I was fucked up before I met her. She doesn’t get credit for making it impossible for me to sustain a relationship, even though I’m sure she’d love that.”

“I don’t know.” Katya shrugs before picking up the cutting board, letting the onions fall into the crockpot. A couple of pieces hit the counter, and she picks one up, squeezing it between her fingers. “If you can blame someone else for your mistakes, it usually makes you feel better. That’s why I’m friends with Trixie.”

Alaska’s mouth tips up at the corner. “How do you not cheat on people?”

“I just,” she pauses, trying to come up with an end to that sentence that isn’t simply: I’m not a selfish asshole. She settles on: “Don’t do it.”

Katya’s not a good role model. She says a lot of stupid, offensive shit, and she’s probably going to end up burning in hell if her family turns out to be right about all that God and religion stuff. But she does take pride in her ability to be faithful when it’s required of her. Her relationships don’t usually last as long as Alaska’s do, but when they end it’s because the guy can’t handle her schedule, or because Katya’s anxiety eats her brain, or because the spark fades when he repeatedly asks Katya to fuck him in drag four months into the relationship.

Maybe it’s length that fucks Alaska over.

God, there’s a dirty joke in there. A joke Alaska would normally love.

But honestly, Katya thinks the problem is Alaska. She’s afraid of getting hurt.

And Katya knows Alaska just denied it’s a byproduct of what happened with Sharon, but Katya has a hard time believing the same man who stayed in that destructive relationship, the one who would have stayed forever if Sharon hadn’t gotten the balls to end it, hasn’t fundamentally altered how she pursues and engages in romantic relationships as a result of that heartache.

So maybe she protects her heart by messing up a good thing first, creating an easy, obvious reason for why it doesn’t work out.

Katya doesn’t know.

She’s heard more about that from Sharon than Alaska.

*

Alaska is a hopeless romantic.

It’s one of the most contradictory things about her.

She cheats on virtually every boyfriend she has, and yet she wants a long term, monogamous relationship.

Katya doesn’t believe in marriage, and she doesn’t know if she believes in monogamy for herself, but she thinks she’d be better at it than Alaska. All the evidence she has points to her winning this: Alaska - 1, Katya -1.

She thinks if Alaska were more honest about her abilities to be faithful, she’d find a nice man to come home to who wants an open relationship. She’d accept how similar she is to Willam and follow suit. Willam loves his husband. Willam is happily married. Willam sleeps around.

But Alaska wants the stupid, heteronormative fairytale.

Katya almost understands that, but she can’t fully wrap her mind around traditional relationship structure being one thing from straight culture that Alaska can’t seem to shake.

*

“Welcome to the stage, Ginger Vitis!”

“Welcome to the stage, Pepto Bismol!”

“Welcome to the stage, Birdy Feathers!”

“Welcome to the stage, Rigga Morris!”

“Welcome to the stage, Shut The Fuck Up!”

Alaska laughs, the first syllable hard and aggressive before it fades into a silent, open-mouthed chuckle, head tipping back and hand coming up to cover it.

“Sorry, Trixie,” Katya says, but her smile is too wide for her apology to be genuine.

“Whatever, I’m going to go blow my brains out,” Trixie says. Her chair scrapes against the floor as she stands up, hiking up her pantyhose before pulling down her dress.

“Enjoy, sweetie!” Katya calls after her. “I think she hates you.”

“Most people do,” Alaska says, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I feed off the negativity.”

“It looks like it’s the only thing you feed off of.” Katya pokes at Alaska’s stomach hard enough to feel her ribs.

Alaska yelps, scooting backward and flailing her feet toward Katya, but all the kicks she gets in are more like the brush of a toe instead of anything hard. “You know that’s not true,” Alaska says, words dripping and eyebrows waggling.

“That’s not fair.” Katya’s tone falls somewhere on a sliding scale between amused and turned on. She hasn’t gotten laid in over two weeks, partly her own fault, depression clouding the corners of her vision black and lonely, crawling into hotel beds without bothering to wipe off her makeup. She’s got the acne to show for it now.

“Fair’s no fun,” Alaska smirks, lifting her feet and settling them in Katya’s lap.

Katya’s already tucked, so there’s nothing for her to play with, thank god, because Katya knows she’d try. Minx. “Are you doing the new comedy tour?”

“I think so. We’re still trying to figure out which dates work in and where I’m already booked, but I like doing those.”

“It’s always fun to have the other girls around,” Katya agrees, tapping her fingers against the arch of Alaska’s foot.

“Until they steal your trade,” Alaska laughs.

“I’m never forgiving Courtney. Never.”

“When she leasts expect it, you’re going to fuck her up.”

“I’ll get you, my pretty,” Katya says, utilizing her witchy voice: high-pitched and nasally, not entirely unlike the one Alaska uses to greet people. Katya files that thought away to sort out a read for the tour. Witches and snakes, she’s sure it’ll work.

“Not her little dog, too!” Alaska gasps.

“I’m afraid so.” Katya’s massaging Alaska’s foot through the layers of tights, digging her thumb into the ball. “Everyone thinks she’s so innocent, but she’s really a filthy whore.”

“Who’s worse, her or Willam?”

“Detox or Adore,” Katya answers instead.

“Where do you fall on this list?” Alaska asks, slouching further in her chair and pushing her feet forward, her toes dancing against Katya’s abdomen.

Katya hums, tapping one finger against her chin. “Even with Willam.”

“God, all my friends are sluts,” Alaska laughs, eyes sparkling, skin around them crinkly. She’s beautiful like this, painted, eye shadow soft and glittery, lashes threatening to weigh her lids down.

She’s always beautiful. Katya thinks she’s beautiful when she pulls the lashes off, cleans her face. She’s beautiful in the morning, face squished against a pillow. She’s beautiful, and Katya is very aware there’s a time when she didn’t think Alaska was that pretty, where her lack of beauty was something Katya found relatable and inspiring. It’s not that Alaska traded unpolished for polished, or experimental drag for glamour, it’s that Katya really knows her now, really likes her now. Just as she is.

However she is.

“Is it that thing where you’re friends with whores so you look less like one in comparison?” Katya asks before shrieking, hitting her palm against her vanity, causing her makeup palettes and brushes to rattle.

“Alaska,” Trixie interrupts. “They told me to come get you, you’re on next.”

“Oh, thanks,” she says, swinging her feet onto the floor. Katya watches her dab underneath her eyes with a tissue, like she thinks she laughed hard enough to mess up her mascara. Alaska shoves her feet into her boots, pulls the pleather up her legs, and Katya is ridiculously aware of Trixie eyeing them from her chair, probably glowering, but it doesn’t stop Alaska from placing a gloved hand on Katya’s shoulder and whispering in her ear: “If you want, I’ll be your trade tonight. Courtney’s not here to steal me away.”

Alaska smacks her lips against Katya’s temple and then waves at Trixie. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, gal,” Trixie says, amiable and extra southern.

When Alaska leaves, Katya twists in her chair. “Howdy do, Ma’am.” She tips an imaginary hat.

There’s no humor in the way Trixie looks at her. Mouth pursed, eyes hard. “Shut up.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Katya mutters, fidgeting with the necklace Trixie helped clasp earlier.

“Is this some kind of self-flagellation?” Trixie asks.

“What? The sexy kind?”

Trixie rolls her eyes. “You’re fucking Alaska.”

Katya’s throat shrivels and dries, her heart sinks to her stomach, and she wipes her palms against her legs. “Not currently.”

“You know, I met her boyfriend in Weho a few weeks ago? He was quiet, which was weird, because Alaska normally goes for men who are louder. But he was nice. Name’s Josh.”

“Okay,” Katya manages to say around her cotton tongue.

“And then you both sit in here and have the nerve not only to give me a migraine with your inane chatter, but to go about your insane cheating ritual right in front of me.”

“I didn’t know she had a boyfriend,” Katya offers.

“You told me this happened to you before, and yet you’re still fucking with her? Like, whoops my dick slipped into your ass again, I hope you don’t have a boyfriend this time!” Trixie raises her hands in an exaggerated shrug, mouth tilted down like a trout. She looks completely nuts, and Katya wants to laugh.

Instead, she clears her throat. “I don’t normally ask.” She feels her face flush under her foundation. Trixie can probably see the red of it seeping through.

“So you always know it’s possible, but you’re too shitty of a person to stop.” Trixie nods. “Cool beans.”

“Like you’re a paradigm of morality.”

“Is this late onset brain damage from all that meth?” Trixie blinks, eyes wide and bugging out of her head. “Am I in The Twilight Zone.”

“It’s not my fault,” Katya insists.

She doesn’t even believe that anymore, doesn’t know if she’s ever believed that, but she just wants Trixie to agree with her and stop looking more disappointed than the time she tried to go vegan, lasting one day before scarfing down an entire pizza, from Dominos, of all places, in less than five minutes.

“You might not be equally as responsible as Alaska is, but you’re not innocent in this. You know she’s probably cheating on someone. If this was murder, you’d be an accessory.”

It’s funny. Comparing sleeping with Alaska to murder. Overdramatic and stupid. Katya gets the giggles, but clamps her hand over her mouth when Trixie tries to murder her with her eyes.

See what she did there?

“You don’t even feel remorse? Un-fucking-believable.”

“You have no right to judge me,” Katya argues. “I know all the fucked up shit you’ve done.”

“You’re right, Katya,” Trixie gives, but there’s a steel edge to her voice that makes Katya shiver. “Because I’m not even that upset about Josh, who could totally beat your ass, by the way.”

“Noted.”

“But you’re clearly super into Alaska, and there’s no way this ends without your heart torn to shreds.”

“I’m not– not–” Katya swallows, “–super into her.”

Trixie stands up and hits Katya upside the head. “You’re an idiot. Don’t talk to me until I don’t feel like wringing your neck, or you’re willing to admit all those drugs fucked up your brain and now you think no one can judge you for being the cheater you damn well know you are, Brian.”

The use of her given name makes Katya flinch.

Trixie’s serious as a heart attack.

Or murder.

Right, not the time for jokes.

*

Alaska kisses her, tasting minty fresh.

Katya kisses back. Always does.

She’s thinking about what Trixie said, about the way Trixie had lifted her drink toward Katya, shaking her head in disappointment as she headed out of the club, Alaska in tow.

She’s thinking about how Alaska had a drink after her set, twirling the straw in her glass and watching Katya from the side of the stage.

She’s thinking about how gently Alaska had pulled a bobby pin Katya had missed out of her hair. Alaska’s fingers tickling her scalp and making electricity tingle down her spine.

She’s thinking about how Alaska brushed her teeth after dropping her bags by the door and before pouncing on Katya, how she tastes like toothpaste and smells like mint, lavender, smoke and makeup wipes.

Katya squeezes Alaska’s waist.

Trixie was right.

She’s super into her.

Fuck.

She’s super into this bony, lip-injected, cheating, whiny brat. This intelligent, talented, witty, compassionate, beautiful man.

And it’s all fucked.

Because Katya doesn’t really believe in marriage, but she believes in love, no matter how sustainable she does or doesn’t find it.

And when Alaska twists her nipple, Katya groans and grinds up against her, opens her mouth wider, like she’s a wormhole she wants Alaska to crawl through.

Trixie was right about all of it: how she feels about Alaska, and about Katya not being a good enough person to stop the train from rolling off the tracks.

*

They’re huddled against each other in the airport, sharing a pair of headphones and watching last night’s episode of Drag Race on Alaska’s Ipad.

“Oh, no,” Alaska mutters, shifting and curling her feet underneath herself, the Ipad moving so Katya can’t see anything but glare.

Alaska adjusts the screen after she’s settled, though, and Katya doesn’t complain.

“Oh, no,” Alaska says again, wincing at the contestant who has too many ideas for Snatch Game in a way that really implies they have no ideas for Snatch Game at all. They’re flailing in front of Ru, and the shady noise has been used at least twice during the conversation.

Katya feels that familiar fear wedged in her belly.

“She should do Jennifer Tilly, her paint already looks how Jennifer wiill look in ten years,” Alaska says.

Katya howls. “No wonder you won the reading challenge, bitch.”

“It wasn’t a read,” Alaska drawls, mouth slightly agape and hand splayed innocently over her heart.

“Liar.” Katya shakes her head, turning back to the tablet when the ads end.

Watching the show with people is always fun, whether it’s a viewing party in a club, or smashed onto a sofa with friends, but there’s something special about watching it with Alaska. Katya’s met a lot of fans of the show, but she doesn’t think she’s ever watched it with anyone who loves it with their entire body like Alaska does.

She literally curls over, closer to the screen, whenever something surprising or funny happens, laughing under her breath at all the jokes, even the ones that aren’t funny. She whispers advice to the contestants, and it’s disgustingly endearing.

“Kooky Kathy is so kooky, before she goes to the bathroom she snorts an ounce of cocaine,” Alaska says.

Something about the thing she does with her voice, combined with the silence on screen as a queen answers “poops her pants,” makes Katya laugh, curling her fingers around Alaska’s forearm. “You’re better at this than they are.”

Alaska smiles, almost bashful. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Katya repeats in her best Tatianna.

Alaska’s smile grows wider. “I know doing other queens is so passe, but we should do a snatch game where we all impersonate each other.”

“I call myself!”

“What,” Alaska laughs, tapping on the screen to pause the episode. “You can’t do yourself.”

Katya wiggles her eyebrows. “No, you don’t understand. I have the most sparkling, wackadoodle personality of any Ru girl. Whoever got me would win.”

“Okay, let me do you.”

“Yes, please!” Kayta squeezes Alaska’s arm before pulling back, shifting her entire body in her seat so she’s looking directly at Alaska. She sits up straight, hands folded all proper in her lap.

Alaska runs her hands over her body, an obvious mock of Katya’s sexual prowess, as she groans: “UNHhhh! Where Tracey Martin tells jokes and I whistle like an empty teapot left on the stove!”

Kayta’s jaw drops in absolute, ludacris joy. “Kooky Kathy is so kooky, before she goes to the bathroom she blank.”

Alaska smiles wide, purposefully trying to curl her lips back so it looks like she has more teeth, bigger teeth. “As you know, I’m a slut, so I thought, what would I do before taking a piss after sex?” She pretends to flip up a card: “Let Bush 9/11 her pussy.”

Alaska throws her hand out like a fan, making a thwoorp sound.

Katya cackles, falls over and rolls around on the ground, her laugh a wheezing kettle. She ends up on her back, knees bent and open like a complete whore, looking up at Alaska. Katya wipes at her eyes where tears have welled. “Shit, I’m hysterical. Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.” Alaska smiles, tongue between her teeth.

*

“What are you doing?” Alaska asks before worrying.

“Shh.” Katya takes a step back, pursing her mouth and studying Alaska’s face before going back in to blend out the cheek contour some more.

“You know I have a very long face,” Alaska says.

“Why did you force me to do this if you don’t trust me?”

“It seemed like a fun idea, but I regret it now.”

Katya laughs, squinting a bit at her handywork. Alaska was right, her face is longer than Katya’s, and it’s narrow, and she doesn’t look awful, but she doesn’t look as correct as she normally does. She looks a bit like the Alaska from five years ago.

“You started my eyebrows and then abandoned them to fix my contour, so I can’t wait to see how much like Frankenstein’s Monster I look.”

“I’m going for The Gill-Man, actually.”

Alaska huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “I hate you.”

“Very mutual, darling.”

Katya decides that’s the best the contour is going to get, so she sets the brush down, picks up her eyeliner pencil, and continues outlining the wing. “You know, James St. James let me paint him, so you’re in good company.”

“And I let Courtney paint me, so you are, too.”

“Cunt.” Katya smiles and pauses to look at Alaska’s eyes. Even enough. She begins filling in the wing.

“How would you describe your process?”

“Housewife whose husband is having an affair with his 18-year-old secretary does her makeup in the bathroom without cleaning her brushes, leaning over the sink to get to the mirror.”

“And when she goes outside to get the mail, she flirts with the mailman but doesn’t realize her mug looks different in natural lighting.”

“Exactly!” Katya shrieks. “You completely understand my eleganza.”

“Eleganza? Really?”

“Yes, mawma!” Katya tries and fails to tongue pop, but Alaska does one for her. “Now, are we going for daywalker or nighttime glamour?”

“We’re going for whatever you want.”

“Scary.”

Alaska’s good at letting Katya paint her. Not that Katya has a lot of people to compare her to, but she’s definitely better than Trixie. She sits still, and complains a lot, constantly asking if she looks terrible and if Katya’s going to tie a piece of corn to her wrist as a bracelet to distract from her eyebrows. Katya leans into it: “I don’t believe in blending eyeshadow, much like I don’t believe in blended families,” and “What are your thoughts on Pyramid eyebrows?”

She always says it’s best to lower people’s expectations, so when Alaska does look in a mirror, she’ll be pleasantly surprised that she doesn’t look like Nicole Paige Brooks. Well, mostly.

Katya puts Brenda on Alaska’s head, brushing the bangs with her fingers. “Wow.”

“That bad?” Alaska grimaces.

“Worse.”

“Do I even want to look?”

“No.”

Alaska pouts, her lips a deep red. The color’s slightly off for her skintone, but Katya likes it smeared across her mouth anyway. She thinks about Alaska coming to one of her shows and kissing her backstage, her own lipstick transferring to Alaska.

“Noooooo,” Alaska whines, mouth parted as she looks down into the little makeup mirror she grabbed from the table. “Why do you hate me? What did I ever do to you?”

“You robbed me.”

Alaska reaches out, smacks her a few times with the back of her hand. “My forehead looks twice as big as it normally does.”

“It’s the bangs.”

“The bangs are the only thing making it look smaller!”

“Well, maybe you should talk to your parents about those genetics,” Katya says, picking up the can of Red Bull she opened and forgot to drink while she worked.

“Have your eyebrows always been this hideous?”

“Hand to God.” Katya takes a sip of Red Bull and presses her thumb into the aluminum. “You really hate it?”

Alaska looks up at her, mouth tilting into a smile, and she nods. “I really do.”

“Let’s take a picture!”

“Okay, but you can’t post it anywhere.”

“If you don’t want any evidence of this, that’s fine.” Katya frowns, her heart sinking to her stomach.

Alaska frowns, too, forehead furrowing. “No, it’s not that. It’s just we didn’t film it, so everyone would expect a video or something.”

Katya feels like an idiot. Duh. “We can do it again.”

“Willam would sue me.”

“You just don’t want me to paint you again.” Katya arches an eyebrow.

“You caught me,” Alaska drawls, winking.

Katya doesn’t mind so much when Alaska models the makeup, getting up from her chair, setting her foot on it, elbow on her knee, chin in palm. She doesn’t mind when Alaska flutters her eyelashes and purses her lips, and she doesn’t mind when they take a selfie, Alaska annoyingly smearing red lipstick all over Katya’s cheek and nose.

“A taste of your own medicine,” Alaska whispers.

Fair enough.

*

Alaska waddles over to Tim in her mermaid dress. “Zip me up?”

“Is this how straight guys feel?” Tim asks.

Alaska laughs, a hearty thing that Katya feels rumble in her own stomach. “Only the first time they accidentally accompany their better halves to the mall.”

“Stop erasing drag queens two-k-always,” Katya says.

“Katya zips up all us gals,” Alaska adds.

“Because I’m a pervert,” Katya deadpans.

Alaska snorts, but it turns into a real laugh, her eyes bright and wet with it. Tim chuckles, but the sound edges toward uncomfortable.

“Thanks,” Alaska tells him, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

It’s odd watching Alaska with her boyfriend at a gig.

Katya keeps blinking to clear her vision, as though what’s in front of her can’t possibly be real. Alaska isn’t overly affectionate. She focuses on getting ready, securing her wig and smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. Tim sits quietly and scrolls through his phone, but still, when he asks for a drink, Alaska hands him her water, their hands brushing, and Katya feels the phantom itch of it against her own skin.

“Break a leg,” Tim says when Alaska heads to the stage.

“Break both of them!” Katya calls. “And an arm!”

The silence settles heavier after that. Katya glances at Tim and then back at her own reflection. She applies another layer of lipstick before blotting it with a tissue.

“Katya?” Tim asks, quiet and unsure.

She hums. “Correct.”

“Um, I know you’re Justin’s friend more than mine.” Understatement: she met him earlier today when the three of them got together for lunch, picked up from their hotel lobby by a nice woman who works for the club. “But can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Is he cheating on me?”

Yes.

Katya blinks again, pushes her eyelash up with her finger.

Guilt squeezes her heart like a vice, the breath she takes sharp and cold in her chest, echoing loudly around her ears. She knew Alaska had a boyfriend last night. This time she didn’t even have ignorance as a lowly excuse. She knew, and she let Alaska blow her anyway.

“You should talk to her about this,” Katya says.

“I know.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just, my last two boyfriends cheated on me, and I don’t know if I’m being paranoid? I want to trust Justin, but I just feel like….”

It’s juvenile, but just as there’s something different in the knowing and not knowing, there’s something different in the knowing and the sitting here with Tim, a real, flesh and blood person, who’s worried about his cheating boyfriend cheating.

Katya exhales.

“Communication is the key to any successful relationship.”

Tim eyes her like he doesn’t quite believe it’s that simple. “Thanks … Katya?”

“Don’t thank me,” she says. “I’m not known for giving good advice.”

*

“Did I spit on you?” Katya asks.

Alaska’s doubled-over, laughing. “Yes, I love it.”

Katya feels glitter sparkling inside her bones, making her shine from the inside out as Alaska pulls herself upright and smiles at her.

“That was it,” Alaska says, turning toward the cameraperson and slicing her hand across her neck. “That’s a wrap. No other interview is going to be as good as that one.”

Katya can feel her cheeks begin to ache from how hard she’s grinning. “Why couldn’t this be the show? I’d win this.”

Alaska blinks at her, face blank: “Where’s your unt?”

“Shit,” Trixie laughs.

Katya stares back at Alaska, smile slowly working its way onto her face. “Here, let me show you,” she says, hooking her thumb into the waistband of her tights, pulling them away from her skin.

Alaska smirks even as she rushes forward, grabbing Katya’s hand. “Miss, this is a very serious competition and we don’t take bribes.”

“Goddammit!” Katya snaps her fingers and the six pairs of tights bite back against her hipbone.

“It was my pleasure to be interviewed by you.” Alaska says, batting her eyelashes.

“The pleasure was all mine.” Katya says, hand splayed over her chest. “Sincerely. I’m like one of those 13-year-old white girls who wait in a bar’s alley to meet you and give you plastic jewelry.”

Alaska snorts, a fond start to a laugh that fades somewhere in her throat. “I’ll see you there.”

She hikes her dress up a little and follows the cameraperson.

“You’ve got some drool,” Trixie says.

Katya actually wipes at the corner of her mouth.

*

Katya knocks against the door jamb before leaning into the dressing room. Rock music plays from someone’s phone as Detox and Sharon dance with each other, Alaska laughing as she runs a makeup wipe across her forehead. “Hey, bitches.”

“Katya!” Detox sings, crooking a finger and beckoning her forward. “Join the party.”

Katya swivels her hips, clasping her hands above her head, and making her way toward the girls. Detox’s hands find her waist and pull her in, moving slowly. It’s soft and sensual, except for Detox’s acrylics pressing into her hips. Katya takes Detox’s hand when she offers it, lets herself be twirled like a ballerina.

She shrieks when Detox lets go, but Sharon catches her, laugh warm in her ear.

Katya almost forgets why she stopped by, but then the music changes: a Whitney ballad.

“You coming out tonight?” Sharon asks, hip-checking Katya before working her wig off.

“Actually,” she says, catching Alaska’s eye in the mirror. Her heart lodges itself in her throat, and her mind screams at her to veer off course, flashing neon signs informing her this is a no good, very bad idea. She tugs at the bedazzled jacket she wore onstage, rocks on her feet, and steels herself. “Alaska, I was wondering if we could talk later?”

“Someone’s in trouble,” Sharon sing-songs.

Alaska rolls her eyes. “I’m heading straight to the hotel after this. I’ve got an early flight out.”

“Cool. I’ll stop by if that’s okay?” Katya takes a deep breath to try to keep everyone in the room from hearing how much she actually can’t breathe.

“Okay.” Alaska raises an eyebrow in question, but Katya just waves her off, mouths: “Nothing serious.”

“You’re stealing my best fucking dance partner, bitch,” Detox says, falling into her chair.

Alaska flips her the bird, running a new makeup wipe under her eye.

*

Alaska opens the door to her hotel, wearing a shirt with her own face on it and that red baseball cap she sells. She’s pale, dark circles under her eyes. Her smile is soft and thin, and Katya almost lets herself use it as an excuse to put this conversation off for another day.

A suitcase lies open on her bed, a pile of clothes next to it, shoes scattered around the floor. “Packing,” Alaska offers.

“When’s your flight?”

“Five.” Alaska shuts the door before maneuvering around Katya to pick up a few pairs of tights that appear to be tangled together.

Katya pulls her phone out of her pocket. It’s just after two. She focuses on breathing in and out: it isn’t ideal, but there’s enough time.

It isn’t ideal, but she promised Trixie.

“When are you leaving?” she asks.

“A car’s coming at three.”

“Yikes.” Katya walks into the room, bending down to pick up a small, sensible heel, eyes scanning the floor for its partner.

“I’ve been in worse shape before.”

“I’m always in worse shape,” Katya says, cracking a smile.

A companionable silence falls over them as Katya pairs up all of Alaska’s shoes, zipping them up in their bags and stuffing them into the suitcase Alaska left on the floor. Alaska folds her shirts neatly, rolling her tights up and sniffing underwear to see which bag it belongs in. It would feel domestic and intimate and normal if the blood wasn’t rushing in Katya’s ears, her heart trying to exit her body before she can embarrass it.

“What did you want to talk about?” Alaska asks, hands on her hips, eyeing the pile of black that remains by her pillow.

“Oh, right,” Katya breathes, as though she forgot.

Stupid.

“Um, I like you.”

Alaska looks at her, the sun of a smile beginning behind her eyes. “I like you, too.”

“No.” Katya shakes her head.

She didn’t plan what to say. She always says she’s better off-the-cuff.

This time, she wishes she had planned something.

“No?” Alaska repeats, tilting her head down and frowning.

“I do like you, that’s not it,” Katya rushes to clarify. “It’s just that I really like you, and we have to stop sleeping together like it’s not a problem. Because it’s definitely a problem. For me.”

“Oh.” Alaska’s mouth stays parted. “I’m single.”

Katya feels the heat rush to her face. She swallows around her swollen tongue. Shit. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s like,” Alaska starts, voice sleepy-slow. She rubs at her eye. “I like you, too, and I’m single, and we might as well give this a shot.”

“We can’t.”

“Why not?” Alaska chuckles.

Katya moves her mouth uselessly, but she has lots of ideas: they both travel too much, jetsetting to different corners of the globe. They’re rarely in the same place at the same time. Alaska likes tea and Katya prefers to rot her bleached chompers with sugar and a dash of coffee. Alaska’s feet are always freezing even when the rest of her is warm, and she’s always nudging said freezing feet between Katya’s legs. Alaska still hasn’t painted Katya’s face even though she promised she’d do it a year ago.

“You couldn’t be monogamous,” Katya blurts.

Alaska frowns, face gaunt, and Katya hates herself.

“Right,” Alaska whispers, breaking eye contact and picking up one of her bras. “You’re right. And it sucks, because this is the one relationship I can see myself not fucking up, except, you know, all I’ve done is fuck it up since it started.”

“Sorry.” Katya swallows.

She zips closed the suitcase she packed.

She leaves.

*

There’s a loud, impatient knock on her door.

And then again, quicker raps.

Katya mumbles around her toothbrush, spitting into the sink: “I’m coming!”

She looks through the peephole, sees Alaska staring down at her pigeon toes, and Katya feels her entire body grow warm, with embarrassment and lack of resolve and how much she might just seriously hate herself.

Fucking shit.

Katya pulls open the door.

“What are your thoughts on monogamy?” Alaska asks, hands stuffed into the front pockets of her jeans.

“Outdated and stupid.”

“That’s what Willam said.”

“You called Willam?” Katya asks, incredulous.

“Yeah. You left, and I sat down and stared at the door like some heroine in a dramatic love story, and he always answers my calls.”

“Okay.”

Katya lets Alaska in.

Alaska sits down on the edge of Katya’s bed, puts her head in her hands and sighs. Katya stays standing, but her legs feel wobbly. She stretches her toes, flexes her hands by her sides. She wonders if Alaska can tell she cried by the way her voice sounds.

“I’m not good at it. You’re right,” Alaska says.

“What?” Katya asks. Her brain feels like it’s running faster than it ever has, but she still can’t keep up.

“Being faithful. I’m jealous, though. I’ll tell you that.” She laughs, the sound devoid of humor. “So, it might not work. And I’ll probably annoy you. But if you want. Maybe we could work something out?”

Katya narrows her eyes. “What happened to all that true love bullshit?”

Alaska sighs, her shoulders deflating.“I think I’ve been holding onto it without really believing it. Since Sharon.”

Katya nods.

“I’m not saying I’m sold on an open relationship. I’m not sure it’s for me. But if I’m going to try for anyone, I want to try for you.”

Her eyes are wide and blue, knuckles going white, hands clasped between her bouncing knees, and Katya isn’t sure that’s really all that romantic, but she thinks maybe she loves Alaska regardless. Maybe she loves her because that’s a really desperate and sad thing to say and not all that romantic at all, and Katya is good at desperate and sad.

She surges forward, Alaska’s face soft between her dry hands, thumbs swiping over her cheekbones. Katya kisses her softly, chastely. She watches the twitch of a smile bloom on Alaska’s lips, and her brain cycles through a dozen pussy jokes.

“I want to try for you, too,” she says.

She kisses Alaska again, feels Alaska’s fingers twist themselves in her shirt.

They have a lot to discuss. Everything isn’t magically fixed. Katya knows that.

But right now, she just wants to kiss Alaska until Nick calls about the car. She wants to help them load a trolley with Alaska’s luggage and bring it downstairs. She wants to shyly press her lips to the corner of Alaska’s mouth, hug her tight, feel the lingering kiss Alaska presses to her forehead before she climbs into the car.

She wants to let hope cascade over her.

So she does.

*

Jonny holds the opera binoculars to his eyes. “Look at huh!”

Katya leans forward, staring at the monitor. A picture of Alaska replaces Bianca.

“Alaska Joanne!” Katya kicks her feet out and claps her hands together.

“Alaskaaaaa,” Jonny drawls in an adequate impression.

“I love her,” Katya says. “She’s great. Extremely compassionate and humble. Incredibly unique and talented. Incisive and smart. I don’t think there’s any other queen with such a smart, specific point-of-view that everyone can find a– an in, a hook to latch onto. No one can do what Alaska does.”

“You just did a show together in Brazil. What was that like?”

Katya laughs, curling her hand over her knee. “It was great. It’s always fun to perform with other girls. Alaska is very professional, but we’ve gotten very close, so it was the best time, yeah. No complaints other than the hotel put mints on the pillows instead of chocolates.” Katya breathes, remembers, and gasps: “I got to lick her onstage. She tasted like powder and paste. So, that’s a hot tip. Some insider info.”

“Oh,” Jonny coos, “Scandalous!”

“Yeah, she’s my favorite. I love Alaska.”

When the episode goes up on Youtube, Katya’s got a show in Berlin, and Alaska’s in LA.

She gets a text just after her first number: Love you too Pastey DeCline. Today Tomorrow and Forever.

FIN

[sashimisafi]

how do you take notes for your chapters? and youre really organized how do you do your scripts? could you give us 1-3 fav notes of every uploaded fic? thaaanks - love

After we’ve come up with an idea, we note down general notes and key points about plot, characters, and point of the AU. Then we discuss what we as readers would expect or want from such an AU, and the things we would dislike and avoid.Now, we start to point out the notes that outline the story as a whole. From then on, we only talk about or take notes of the characters/members (traits, interactions, development, etc.). Most of the time, we take notes or do special research for the world/system the AU takes place in. But sometimes, in ViD too, for example, we just use the characters, atmosphere and the rough outcome we want, to start writing and the rest (world information, interactions, details, etc.) happens on its own.As for the script: after we’re done with detailed notes, we start to make chronological notes about each chapter. We will give you twf! as an example: for a chapter, we’re going to work on, we make notes about the scenes and how many words approximately the scenes are going to take. Aside from that, we have an “every chapter summary” document in which we list every chapter (ba dum tss), divided into first part, climax, last part, and chapter annotation. On top of that, we use different colors or italics for notes that are important for a chapter, the next coming chapters, or the whole story.That’s basically it.╰(°ㅂ°)╯While we prefer to stay organized with our works, we also like to work spontaneously on one. At some point, however, we always get back to making scripts.

We discard and delete notes after we’re done with chapters so, sadly, we don’t have many anymore. We searched the depths and could find some (recent ones, we could only pick few because of spoilers) though.. so, enjoy, we guess? :’D

(ViD; first draft, and brainstorming notes)

Tent scene: Yoongi has to change his clothes for the night and tells Hoseok to turn around and don’t.look. The good boy Hoseok is, “I know, milady.” he turns around and stands straight, Yoongi: “No you fucking don’t, I’m a dude you bitch”

[…] Yoongi can’t take it anymore and kisses hobi, hobichii is like “whoa I’m very honored, but also very gay”

(in our town; first draft, and brainstorming notes)

Namjoon is the most miserable city slicker you can ever find in every sense and definition of the world

[…] jin is furious but also soft for how happy kookie is, and also really fucking attracted to namjoon with black hair

(twf! chapter 2 notes)

Yoongi tells him that his father drinks less and less alcohol and doesn’t beat up Yoongi that often anymore: why you fucking lyin Yoongi why u always lyin mmmmmmmmmmmmoh my god stop fuckin lyin - Namjoon’s not buying that shit, ain’t got no money for bullshit Yoongi – they fall back into their old routine, talking about hero n stuff […]

[newspaperburritos-forbreakf-blog]

Tutor Time || Tittie

A/N: This was probably like two months ago?

Tito, newly (secretly) back in school, needs help with his essay writing, but he definitely wasn’t expecting his tutor to be Lottie

TITO

It was no secret that Tito wasn’t the most educated guy in Swynlake, but what was a secret was that he was doing something to change it. In between shifts at the garage, he’d been taking a few Pride U classes working towards a degree. He didn’t know what it would really do, but he knew it’d keep him busy, distracted, and maybe he’d end up better than before, ya know?

Tito was doing fine. Engineering classes were cake with his hands on experience and math never gave him a problem. English? Core classes like history and writing papers and shit? That wasn’t any walk in the park for sure.

The New Yorker never really asked for help, but his professor told him it was get a tutor and make up as many points he could on the rest of the assignments and the final or fail. And he definitely  wasn’t about to fuckin’ let half a semester go down the drain to do it all over again next semester.

He was expecting some brainiac nerd to come in at any moment. Some chick who probably had as much social skills as a plank of wood and was about to start spitting all sorts of grammar shit at him. Whatever, he’d have to grin and bear it. Get through it and maybe learn a lil to help him get by in the future.

The mechanic sat back in his chair at one of the large tables in the library. His books piled up next to him as he scrolled through his phone at some dumb shit Dodger was talking about, just waiting for his tutor.

LOTTIE

Lottie had meandered her way into the library, two cups of coffee in hand (one already stained with her pink lipstick), bag balancing on her shoulder as she looked around the room for her newest friend for the next few weeks. Or semester. She didn’t really know how long she’d be around this guy.

She had received an email earlier in the week asking if she might be interesting in helping to tutor a first year leveled student with his English. Writing to be more specific. Which, for the record was a little strange considering Lottie had never taken English at PrideU, It was something she had actually taken while she was still in high school, but apparently had done well enough in it that they thought her to be more than capable helping this student. Regardless of why they asked her, Lottie happily agreed, the person on the other end of the email providing her with the name of the student (Ignacio…...something. He had a lot of names) as well as where the tutors typically met their tutorees.

Which is why she found herself looking for him that particular day, the coffee warm against her very cold fingers (Lord, did she hate English weather). She wanted to start their meeting off right, bringing him some coffee to hopefully warm him (ba dum tss) up to her and the idea of her helping him out. Considering you know, one look at Lottie would lead you to believe that she was not the brightest bulb on the Christmas strand.

She saw a guy though sitting alone at one of the tables, his back was towards her so all she could really see what his curly brown hair as she began to slowly approach. When she reached the table though, she offered the (woah, cute) guy a bright smile. “Hi, are you Ignacio?” Her southern accent absolutely butchering his name, but truly it was the best that she could do considering she wasn’t entirely sure how to pronounce his name.

TITO

Having forgotten where he was completely and busy texting Dodger about how stupid he sounded right now, Tito did not notice the person coming up behind him until his government name was used (and kinda butchered with a Southern accent) which sent him jumping in his seat.

He whirled around to see… definitely not a nerdy looking girl. Hell, she was fine. He could get used to this shit. Instant Tito charm turned on, his racing heart and phone (which was now on the floor) forgotten. “Yeah, that’d be me. Ignacio Alonzo Julio Fredrico de Tito. But you can just call me Tito, chica if that worst best for you. And you are…?” He grinned at her, leaning against the back of the seat like he was the smoothest motherfucker that didn’t just look like a spazz.

The mechanic turned back around and cleared some of his stuff into his area to make room for her to sit wherever. “You aren’t really the tutor I was expectin’ to be honest. Not that that’s a bad thing or whatever, I’m just sayin’ sometimes you like have an image in your mind of people and shit and… well, it’s a nice surprise or whatever. Plus like my professor set this up and I don’t really know her all that well so...” He shrugged, trying to keep his smirk from growing too big on his face. Blondes were his type after all, and with the way she dressed, he seemed to be falling right into old habits with the rich ones.

LOTTIE

Now being that Lottie was Lottie, she felt absolutely horrible for the reaction that Ignac...Tito had had. She hadn’t meant to sneak up on him, only wanted to make sure that she had the right person! Without even thinking about it, Lottie set the coffee cups down on the table, bending down to pick up the not so stranger’s phone. “Lord, I am so sorry,” Lottie spoke out, placing his phone in front of him as she sat down in the adjacent seat. “I didn’t mean to startle you like that, sugar!”

Again, probably shouldn’t call people you just met sugar, but Lottie never really was one to play by those sorts of rules.

She let out a small laugh though, “That certainly sounds a heck of a lot better when you say it than when I try.” Lottie mused, no, STOP IT LOTTIE. You are here to tutor this guy, not flirt with him. You need to stop. “But it’s a pleasure to meet you Tito. Did I say it right that time? My southern accent just makes it sound so wrong.” Which was true, she really felt like she wasn’t even saying it correctly still.

Her hand shot out next to her for him to shake, “My name is Charlotte Rose La Bouff, but you can just call me Lottie.” She lightly teased, giving him her full name since he had for her. “Oh! And I brought you a coffee.” She brought the cup without the lipstick stain in front of her a bit more. “I wasn’t sure how you’d like it so I just had them put a little bit of cream and sugar in it, but I mean, if you want more, you can always just have mine. So long as you don’t care about the lipstick.” Another small laugh. “And that’s alright, really. Don’t worry about it. Can’t say that I haven’t heard it before.” Lord knows she had played into that stereotype for long enough.  “Your professor had emailed me about it too, we’re workin’ onnnnnn….” Lottie began, pulling out her iPad to check her email but it hit her before she even had the chance. “Your writing? Right? Got an essay comin’ up here in a few weeks if I remember right.”

TITO

Her voice was so fuckin’ cute that it didn’t even matter that she fucked up his name (most people did, shit was long af and full of accent shit). He smirked at her slightly, was she flirting with him or just being really fuckin’ nice to get a good review? ‘Cause in his years of bein’ himself, he’d take that as flirtin’.

“Yeah, you said it real good, chica. Perfecto.” He chuckled and leaned back in his seat a bit, “Believe me, I ain’t one to judge on accents.” He poked fun at himself because well, if you ever heard him talk you’d know how much New York and then Mexico kinda fucked together to combine his way of talking.

Lottie. Chica was fuckin’ fine and had a cute name (and apparently was smart af or at least smarter than him). Tito was pulled out of his inner thoughts on how best to proceed with this attractive female when she offered him the coffee and then all the thoughts just kinda leaked right out like someone had punctured his oil tank right out from under him by giving him a coffee.

His eyes softened and he took it. It was a small act of kindness. And that’s what it felt like, kindness, and not some piece of charity or something because she didn’t even know him or see him before she got him the drink, there’s a difference right there, Ignacio Alonzo Julio Fredrico de Tito didn’t do handouts. His whole demeanor kind of changed from hormonal fool to focused pupil. “Nah, yeah, that’s good. You picked right.” Tito didn’t drink a ton of coffee in general (when you had as much energy as he did you just got shaky and hyper with the added caffeine) so he’d probably just sip on it.

The mechanic took a sip to appease her and grinned a small little grin before looking down at the prompt he’d brought on paper on top of his legal pad because well, he didn’t really grow up with laptops and fancy gadgets (even if he did there wasn’t a way for wifi to happen). So he liked to do outlines and stuff on paper first. Laptops just sorta distracted him.

“Yeah, I, uh, I brought the prompt. My professor said that I need like grammar and structure improvements on my last paper. Like the concepts are there, I just can’t communicate them well, ya know? Like I got the bullet points lined out but words get all messed up and mixed together and it turns into like a run-on rant or somethin’.” He scratched his head slightly and looked over at her, kind of feeling vulnerable telling her about all this weakness shit that he’d never admit to in front of people, but he couldn’t flunk out, not when he’d put in so much work. He let out a small huff of a laugh and shrugged,  “Guess I just got a lot of pasión when I write or somethin’ so my thoughts kinda all come out at once and don’t make a lot of sense to other people but make sense to me.”

LOTTIE

Okay, perfect. That meant perfect, right? See, Lottie could get down with this Spanish thing. All her years growing up learning French and a little bit of Creole hadn’t prepared her for a meeting like this, but well, that word was easy enough to get down and close enough to the English word that she was able to at least figure it out!

“Can I take a guess at where you’re from?” Lottie questioned, hoping that maybe the idea of getting to know each other to him would potentially get him even that much more open to the idea of her tutoring him. “Well, besides the Hispanic heritage of course.” She added with a bit of laugh. That much was obvious. “New York? Or New Jersey? No, definitely New York. That’s what I’m bettin’.” Her hand coming down to slap the table gently.

She watched him carefully as he took the coffee though. He had leaned up in his seat, not exactly leaning back and putting on that “cool” demeanor that he had first exhibited once Lottie revealed herself. (Which for the record, she thought was a little silly. If anything he just looked like he was trying a little bit too hard, but who was Lottie to judge?). Regardless, she had noticed the softened look on his face as he took the coffee and had wondered why exactly something as simple as a warm drink had affected his attitude so much. “Good.” She finally replied with a smile, “I was debatin’ on that my whole way over here. I was like, shoot, I shouldn’t have added any cream and sugar and just brought it with me because what if he didn’t like cream and sugar? Or what if he doesn’t like coffee entirely? It was a mess, I probably looked like a fool.” Another laugh escaping her.

Lottie arched her neck so that she could see the prompt that he had been assigned since the professor had not sent her that much. It looked easy enough, a simple essay from an intro level course. This wasn’t going to be too much trouble to get him all squared away! But she listened carefully as he spoke, turning back up to face him as she nodded her head. She imagined that it must be hard. Sometimes it was hard, and she imagined it must be especially hard for him if English was his second language. “Hey, no worries,” She smiled, quickly resting her hand on top of his as reassurance. “That’s what I’m here for. To help you. And it’s a good thing that you have passion, that’s what that word meant right? In your writing. It means that you have a lot of good ideas that you want to get down on paper. We just have to figure out a way to bring it in just a teeny bit.” Her hand coming off of his, her pointer finger and thumb coming very close together but not quite touching.

TITO

The mechanic quirked a brow at her when she offered to figure out where he was from. Most of the time people guessed right. It was sort of a specific accent and when people weren’t from the US, the first place they named was New York. (Not that she wasn’t from the US, that southern accent definitely gave her away). Shit, would he have to guess where she was from? Most Southern accents sounded the same to him.  

Sure enough, she guessed right the first time. Then went to New Jersey which wasn’t a huge hop from NYC but she corrected herself. He let out a chuckle as he pushed the coffee cup between his hands on the table. “You’re right. Born in the Bronx. Lived in Brooklyn. Regular New York City boy in Swynlake.” He squinted at her slightly, “I’m not too great with Southern accents but Imma have to say you’re from… Texas?” Really he was drawing a blank and she didn’t sound like some Alabama or Mississippi hick to him. Geography was not his strong suit either so he was glad he could name a few southern states off the top of his head to choose from.

Tito debated on telling her about his relationship with coffee, but after realizing she might bring him more in future sessions he decided it would probably be best. “I mean, I like coffee. It don’t necessarily like me.” He laughed slightly, looking down at his papers, “I don’t drink a lot of it. I already got too much energy in me so it just sorta supercharges me.” He looked back at her slightly with a small smile on his face, “But yanno, I was feeling a little tired today so I appreciate it, Lottie. You definitely aren’t a fool, chica. I’m the damn fool. You’ll never look like the fool when you’re around me, promise ya that.”

“Yeah, you got it. You learn any Spanish? You’d probably be good at it.” He winked at her before listening to the rest of her words, except he totally got distracted by her hand covering his. It was nice. A warm feeling he hadn’t felt in a while. Her hands were so soft compared to how rough his were from scraping them up as a kid and working on cars all day. No one touched his hands anymore. Oddly enough it was more personal than anywhere else on his body that got touched. It was a gesture. He couldn’t really read her too well, which was interesting because girls had become so easy to him. Lottie was a mystery so far.

“Sounds good, chica.” The dark haired boy pulled his hands back to him, not wanting to keep them in that spot anymore looking like an idiot. “So uh, where should we start? Like, what’s your process for this shit? You got some sort of like writing formula/guideline or something.”

LOTTIE

So yeah, maybe Lottie was a little proud of herself for getting the answer right, but really, shed have to be a little stupid to not put together the fact that he was from New York. It was as strong and stereotypical of an accent as it could possibly get, coupled with the Hispanic accent. It was cool though, Lottie enjoyed it. It wasn’t a pairing that she had expected to ever hear before, but that’s what made him unique!

She let out a bit of a laugh, her head bobbing around a bit. “Closeeeeee, so I’ll give it to you. Just go one state over and you would have had it. Born and raised in Louisiana. New Orleans to be more specific. But I’ve been up to New York a couple times. Of course, we mainly stayed in the touristy areas which I’m sure you steered clear from.” Her hand sweeping out in front of her as she let out another laugh.

Oh, this was awkward then now wasn’t it? He didn’t even like coffee and she had gone and brought him one! Stupid Lottie. She should have asked him somehow first. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry. You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to then, I ain’t gonna be mad or upset.” She replied, offering him a smile. “Next time though you’ll have to let me know what you like so I can pick that up for you instead!” Another smile, but totally understanding the feeling of being supercharged with energy. Sometimes when she drank coffee she felt like she was bouncing off the walls. The following comment though had caused Lottie to smile even brighter. She hadn’t known if it was meant to be a joke, but it definitely was sweet to her and made her smile. “I don’t know if I believe that.” She teased before getting out a couple supplies of her own.

“Never learned, I just got lucky with that one I guess.” Her shoulders popping up into a shrug. “Only know French and a little bit of Creole. That’s what some of the people in Louisiana speak. Not a whole lot though, just a teeny bit. Hey! How would you feel about maybe teachin’ me a little bit of Spanish though? I help you with your English, you help me with some Spanish?” It was an idea that got her excited, the thought of learning a brand new language. She just hoped that he would be on board too.

Though she’d understand if he wasn’t.

Lottie nodded her head, “I do, yes! But it sounds like you’ve already sort of been doing the same thing. The first thing I start with when I get a prompt is I go back and look at it. Highlight the keywords that are gonna push me where I need to start. That way, when I’m pulling everything together, I know that I didn’t miss anything and won’t be losing easy points. Why don’t you go ahead and do that.” She replied, offering him one of her (pink, of course) highlighters.

TITO

Louisiana. It all clicked now. Shit, rich french blonde was apparently his type. He never learned did he. Only difference was that he wasn’t exactly in his prime Tito flirting self. He was more grounded. Probably because he was legit here asking this girl for help when he never asked for help from nobody. He did shit for himself. He’d been on his own longer than he’d had anybody so askin’ for help didn’t really come too easy for him. On the streets, asking for help showed weakness, showed you gave up on yourself. It was hard for his pride to sit here and have someone else (no matter who it was) help him.

He scratched the back of his head with a nervous chuckle, “Nah, I mean, you can’t exactly avoid Times Square or Central Park. But yeah, mostly Brooklyn and the Bronx were my stompin’ grounds, yanno?” Usually those were prime locations for pick pocketing. He and Dodge could make a fortune just by doing the old fake out, bump and sneak as kids. He shook his head, making sure to take a big appreciative gulp of the coffee, which did not exactly get swallowed correctly causing him to cough slightly and say between coughs and a small wheeze. “Nah, it's really okay.” He took another sip to clear his throat and then sat the cup down away from him giving her a smile like he hadn’t totally just fucked up being smooth.

Tito shrugged and looked down at his paper, “Guess we’ll find out then huh.” He gave her a little mischievous smirk before looking back down, trying to decipher the prompt a little bit better before she started asking him questions. He didn’t want to seem underprepared or something.  Unfortunately, she was pretty distracting so he read the same sentence about five times before looking back up at her and giving a chuckle, “Yeah, sure. Least I can do, yanno for you helpin’ me out. And hey, that’s pretty impressive, I mean… Je parle un peu de français” From Daisy. His accent was never quite right in French. Most of his words tried to lean towards his Spanish accent. “But I’m no expert in languages or anythin’.”

He listened to her, prepared to learn some new techniques and shit. He smiled at the highlighter. Of course it was pink. Right, key words. Figuring out what all this bullshit in this prompt meant. Good start. He started highlighting some stuff and immediately he could tell that he was highlighting too much. The whole paragraph mostly looked pink. He sheepishly looked up at her, his voice kind of quieter, “How do you know what things are the most important? Kinda just.. I dunno everything looks important to me so it's hard for me to focus on the more important things, yanno?”

LOTTIE

“Sugar, I said you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to, not chug it down to the point that you start chokin;.” Lottie laughed out as she placed a han on Tito’s shoulder to try and steady him. Because, yes, in order to help someone who is choking you needed to steady them by holding onto their shoulder. (Lottie’s brain worked in mysterious ways). “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, are you okay Tito? I can’t have you dyin ‘on me this early.” Or you know, at all that would certainly be tragic and definitely would make Lottie probably the worst tutor in the history of tutors ever.

It was weird. Because from the get go Tito had seemed so cool, calm, and collected. Or at least try to play like he was. The way that he had leaned back in his chair when Lottie had first walked back, the fact that he called her chica with that grin of his (which yes, it was much different than Lottie calling everyone sugar because she did not flash people smirks like that), and pretty much just his entire demeanor. Whatever it was though, he had already seemed...well…not like that at all. The way that he had sort of choked on his coffee because he was trying to appease her (which was sweet that he still was going to drink it) and how that wall that she assumed he put up came down when it came to the actual work she was there to help him with. Whatever it was, Lottie felt like maybe not a lot of people saw that side of Tito so she was at least happy she got a hint of it now.

He seemed like a nice guy!

Lottie clapped her hands quietly though as Tito agreed to help her with her Spanish before the French had rolled off of his lips. Her expression had changed into one of surprise, even bucking her head back just a bit, “Ahhh tres bien!” Lottie mused, already a bit impressed since he had managed to put together the sentence that quickly. She knew the two languages were a little similar, but she was still impressed nonetheless.

She let out another small laugh as he began to highlight the entire prompt. Definitely not what she had been going for, but mistakes were alright! That’s how you learned. “Here,” She replied, taking the notepad he had brought as well as the prompt so she could quickly write it down once more. “My go-to rule with highlighting is,” Lottie began as she jotted it down, “To try to stay to only highlighting like, five words, eight max.” She added, shooting Tito a playful glare before glancing back down to the pad as she finished up. Lottie pushed it back towards him so that he could see. “See look, this bit at the top is really only giving you some background information.” She spoke, using the pen to point out the sentence. “This really isn’t telling you what you need to write about, it’s just getting you to start thinking. Usually what you’re looking for is in the middle or right at the end. Try again, I think you got it this time.” Lottie offered with a smile. Positive affirmations. “Remember, try and look for those ‘buzz’ words. The ones your professor wants you to see. Not all that junk at the beginning.” 

[voxvulgi]

&&&

send ‘&’ for 3 blogs i recommend

So, 3 times 3 is nine. Here goes:

@ribbedxgloves

I’ve known Ari since before Hailey came to life. She’s known me since I was king of the smols and will hopefully continue to be my friend and write with me until a terrifying global virus do us apart. (I sure hope that’s never!) She RPed with Dawn briefly and then took my Hailey and turned her into a real Disney princess. Not only that, but she brought Althea back to me, helped me make Adonis, and fuels my creativity every time I speak to her. She’s an amazing writer, and even better plotter, and an even better friend.

@elysiahellfire

MY SATANMON ROLL. I’ve known Vee even longer, and she’s the reason Zoran developed into a round character and is still good and around. She stuck with me through the time where I was smol and a newbie who knew nothing about RP manners (thank you to the moon and back; oh my goodness how did you deal djksnhadosijfo). She’s there when I need her, and more importantly, not there when she knows she needs to be elsewhere. Vee is an example I hope to imitate as I grow. She’s an amazing role model. You’ll almost never guess how she managed to make such wrecked muses with how well she has herself together. She’s a master time manager and a master writer. An absolute damn snail, but nothing good ever came out of haste (i’m looking at you sara what a nerd). Every time a reply posts, I have to take a moment to wonder how I came upon such a wonderful partner.

@floralgardenswitches // @aworldfullofmuses // @dysfunctionalmasons

MEL IS MY WIFE. She’s such a lovely cinnamon roll, all enthusiasm and love and talent. I haven’t RPed with all her muses yet (there are sO MANY HOW DO YOU EVEN MANAGE OHMYGOD) but if I get the chance to, no way I’d say no. They’re all so different and seriously amazingly thought out. Mel’s writing is so PERFECT and I get too excited not to reply as fast as I can because she also thinks up such amazing storylines and creates the best character dynamics. I love her with all my heart

@anomaliies // all the other blogs

I know I’ve said this a million times, but Savvy is my beautiful, talented, insightful, amazing smol twin. She has the most beautiful soul and can breathe life into any character she writes, canon or not. (Honestly, what’s the difference?) Her portrayal of canon is even better than actual canon, and her OCs, though I haven’t gotten to RP with all of them yet, are AMAZING to put it lightly. I love hearing her talk about them, I love writing with them, and I love every time I check my notifications to find a reply from her. She’s an amazing RPer and a very hard-worker in general, and I’m beyond glad I met her.

@warrioroflondonbelow

CHRISTINE IS THE SWEETEST. Hands down. I mean, I have a ton of sweet friends but??? I can’t? I just can’t???? She’s so full of love, always throwing comments and memes at me, always up for new ideas and any general rambles. I love the brief chats where I just get to know her better. I love every thread we have, even the ones we lost, and I endlessly want more. I haven’t even read Neverwhere (YET!!!) but I’m already so very in love with Richard Mayhew because of this amazing RPer’s representation of him. She gets into his littlest quirks and loves to break him down in many situations to explore his character, and if that isn’t good character study, I don’t know what is. I love you, Hannah!!!

@growinguphartless

I’d just leave this here and say “NERD” and move on, but even the endearment “nerd” wouldn’t do Mary justice???? I’ve first seen her RPing with one of my partners, and I was a little intimidated by her because she’s so perfect and her muse was so perfect and I was (and still am obv) a potato. But me, the potato, finally approached her at some point, and MAN DO I NOT REGRET IT. She’s so easy to talk to, easy to explore characters with, easy to hypothise with, and so dAMN EASY TO CRY WITH??? IF SHE TELLS YOU I AM NOT CRYING FOR AT LEAST 50% OF OUR CONVERSATIONS, SHE FUCKIN’ LYIN’. Dudes, I just love Mary and talking to Mary and don’t get me started on her OCs because OH MY GOD. If the love she gives them was sugar, they’d all be dying of diabetes rn. Not even insulin will help them. Nothing will. They’re so well-rounded and thought-out and so very very very LOVED by her that it’s difficult not to love them yourself and I. Just. Cannot. Bye.

@dangerous-smoll

Wanik and I met when her lovely muse Nita killed Hailey’s brother. It was a full moon, very spooky, so many ghosts, very cold. I saw the Flying Dutchman that day. Actually, that’s not how we met, but the time I first saw her, and I’m very glad that I did and that we approached each other because oh mY GOD. I don’t even know how to put it into words. Wanik puts so much work into her muses, her threads, her blog in general. And she gives so much love and attention to her partners it’s like…HOW? How do you manage to be so nice and supportive and run such a lovely blog with such a great variety of such deep muses? I die.

@the-storm-within-me

My Eve???? My love???? My beautiful bundle of awesomeness? How do I even explain how much I admire Eve???? She’s an amazing human. Nika is amazing. Nick is amazing. Eve and her interactions all bring me joy (and pain let’s be real) because she portrays such amazing, loving and caring muses who have their flaws and quirks. And the thing is??? You can’t even help but love them WITH their flaws and quirks?? Because they’re the perfect combination of characteristics. Honestly, they have the positive traits people admire and the vices people love. I wish I can meet Eve, Nika, and Nick in person. But for now I guess I just have to settle for tHIS AMAZING WRITING THAT I DO NOT DESERVE.

@endlessdrifter

Do I really need to do this again? I mean, if y’all didn’t hear me the first 9732481273 times: Dave is awesome in all the ways that count. Purely fantastic writing. He always gives me something to work with (even the times I suck and give him nothing to work with lmao) and something that surely gets a response from my characters. His muses are endless (ba dum tss!) and all distinct and unique and so very loveable. I love even the ones I haven’t met yet (because obv) and treasure the ones I have. You can rip Scoot, Jorge, Asher, Dane, Ray, Max, and Luke from my dead cold fucking hands. Lastly, if you’re ever in the mood for good conversation, definitely hit up Dave. (Unless you burped and want a high five. Apparently, this guy believes in ETIQUETTE OR WHATEVER.)

Bonus for the people who really love nice things on their dash (also did you really expect me to recommend only 9 blogs wtf guys???):

@altrxistisms

LOTTIE PATOTTIE MY BABY. This girl is under my protection, and so is my baby Jolie. I may have -1 fighting skills but you have to get through me if you wanna do so much as look their way, okay??? Okay. Now that we’ve cleared this up, I just need to stress the fact that Lottie (mun) and Jolie (muse) are the most precious people in the world. You’re gonna fall in love with them whether platonically or romantically. They’re gonna bring light to your life because they’re literally stars that fell from the sky and since they can’t bring happiness to heaven anymore they have to bring it to you.

@cupido-periculosa

Cip, I’m pretty sure I talked to you more than anyone else in the past few days, and you can honestly blame this on Vladimir Tod and his antics. But you have to blame THAT on yourself and D’Ablo because you had me go back to the bookstore and buy the box set after explicit instructions from my mom not to buy anything. I’m young, dumb, broke, and emotional because of you. (And Adonis is just young, dumb, and emotional. And let me tell you that choosing Dan Stevens as an FC for D’Ablo is probably the best thing anyone did ever. You know, right after that other thing you did where you breathed life into an underrated middle school villain and made him one of my favourite fictional characters of all time.)