#if that doesn’t explain my home country perfectly

[e-dubbc11]

Such a Flirt

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Hunter Reader; supporting character Sam Winchester

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ please or I’m telling on you) fingering, oral, p in v protected sex (be safe out there everyone), couple of swear words, love confessions

Word Count: 3.3K-ish

Summary: Dean and Sam ask for your help getting information from a bartender at a local bar. You’re a smooth talker and can get info from anyone but Dean hates having to watch you flirt with handsome men.

A/N: Fair warning, there’s only a little plot with this one. I really just wanted to get to the smexy time. I had the strongest urge to write some smut for this smexy son of a bitch, I don’t know why but I’m just very much in love with all things Jensen Ackles right now(I’ve watched Tracker, My Bloody Valentine, and started watching season 3 of the Boys again plus random episodes of Supernatural) I can’t wait to meet him in October! I hope you like this one!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“Dude, why are you grinding your teeth like that?” Asked Sam.

Dean’s eyes were fixated on you as you flirted with the bartender. You were trying to see if he knew anything about a man who was in the bar a couple of days ago.

Later, the man couldn’t explain why he had beaten his girlfriend to death after being seen in the bar with a beautiful woman who was definitely NOT his girlfriend.

“Does she have to flirt so hard with that guy?!” Growled Dean. “He’s not even that good looking!”

Dean angrily took a sip of his beer and continued to watch you like a hawk.

Sam rolled his eyes, pressed his lips together in a straight line and tried to continue talking about the case with Dean but he was more interested in what you were saying to the bartender.

“She’s trying to get information for us, Dean. Relax.” Said Sam.

The boys didn’t always need a third “FBI agent.” Sometimes they just needed help getting information from the opposite sex. Men were a lot freer with their words with you rather than the “feds.”

You mostly hunted on your own but they would call you from time to time when they needed your…”wits,” so to speak. Plus, you liked to watch Dean struggle with his feelings for you and you very much liked him back but it was fun to make him jealous.

**********

Before leaving the bunker, you had asked, “What kinda bar is it?”

“What do you mean what kind? It’s a bar, y/n.” Answered Dean.

“Ok, I realize that, Dean but is it a biker bar, a country western bar, one that doesn’t have a theme? I need to know what kinda clothes to bring. I threw a whole bunch in my car, I’ll bring the one outfit I need, and pick up the rest back here before I head home.” You replied.

Sam was already on his laptop doing research so he did a quick search and found the bar’s website online.

“Looks like it’s quite the nice place, y/n. Reviews say it’s an after work hot spot for bankers, real estate brokers, professionals, etc.” Said Sam.

You replied, “Soooooo a little swanky, but don’t dress like a high end call girl, got it. You guys will fit in perfectly wearing your FED suits.”

You decided to go for the “classy attorney” look but without a blazer. A Kelly green fitted silk blouse, black wide-leg pants that had black studs on the seam, and black ankle boots. Your perfectly chosen outfit, paired with a black structured tote bag seemed like impeccable choices.

Eat your heart out, Dean Winchester.

While they were out eating lunch, you did your hair and makeup. You didn’t do this super girly stuff very often but you liked…feeling pretty. The times that the boys needed you to turn on the charm and bat your long lashes to get information, were really fun for you.

Drawing on your black winged eyeliner after having a little too much coffee proved to be difficult sometimes but you were a professional and could probably do it with your eyes closed if you needed to.

A medium tone matte eyeshadow and a bold lip completed the look while a strobe light like highlighter emphasized the high points of your face.

Satisfied with your look, you watched a little tv before changing clothes. They would be back soon to pick you up for drinks after they talked to the local cops.

While in the bathroom, you heard the door open and Dean called out to you.

“Y/n?! You better be ready; we gotta go!” Said Dean.

You emerged from the bathroom fully dressed with the exception of your shoes.

“Ok, ok keep your shirt on, Winchester. I just need my boots.” You replied.

After slipping into your boots, you picked up your bag and finally had a chance to look up. For once, Dean’s brow wasn’t furrowed and you could see his hypnotizing green eyes much better which caught you off guard.

“What is it? Do I have something on my pants?” You said, gazing down at your pants then turning in a circle with your head over your shoulder, trying to look at your own ass.

Dean was speechless and couldn’t get any words out so Sam answered as he tossed a burger at you, “Nope, all good. Let’s go. You can eat in the car.”

They walked up ahead as you locked the door behind you.

“Dude, what is wrong with you? You were staring at her.” Said Sam.

Dean replied, “She looks too good, Sam.”

“Can you wrestle with your feelings for her another time? She’s supposed to look nice.” Sam said.

Nervously, Dean whispered, “Well she’s distracting! And I don’t have THOSE kinds of feelings for her.”

“Whatever you say, dude.” Replied Sam with raised eyebrows.

You covered your mouth so they wouldn’t see you crack a smile.

While riding in the car, you leaned forward so the boys could hear you better. Making sure he could feel your breath on his ear, you said, “You two can go in first, have a seat, and I’ll make my way in after a few minutes. You can keep an eye on me as I walk up to the bar.”

A sly smirk stretched across your lips as you slinked back into your seat and looked at Dean in the rearview mirror, trying his hardest NOT to appear flustered but failing miserably.

You could have made it easy and told Dean how you felt about him but he deserved to be on the receiving end of the teasing. Women made it easy for him, just falling at his feet which meant he had his pick and he hated every time you teased him.

And now, drinking at the corner of the bar, you could feel him burning a hole in your head with his angry stare. It appeared that Dean couldn’t take just sitting there anymore. Sam tried to grab hold of his jacket but he missed and Dean started to walk over to the bar when the bartender walked away to wait on someone else.

“I’m getting some good stuff, Dean. Get outta here!” You whisper yelled at him without looking and without drawing attention to yourself.

He nonchalantly whisper yelled back at you, “You’re being a little TOO friendly with him, don’t ya think?”

“I’m perfectly capable of weaseling information out of a dumb bartender. Now get outta here before I kick your ass all over this bar!” You growled.

“Need something, friend?” The bartender asked Dean.

A tad flustered, Dean replied with a narrowed expression, “Two more beers, buddy. Thanks.”

You got what you needed from the bartender and after another hour or so, you paid for your drinks and left. Dean and Sam followed you out a handful of minutes later.

“Can we get pizza?” You asked.

Dean was always in a better mood if he was fed properly so as a peace offering, you bought pizza on the way back to the motel. And of course, Dean picked up more beer.

Settling in with your dinner, you told them everything Jeremy, the bartender, told you about what he witnessed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, I didn’t know the two of you were on a first name basis.” Said Dean.

You rolled your eyes.

“Will you let me finish, please!?” You asked.

“Dean…let her finish. Come on.” Said Sam.

Dean continued to pace back and forth while you talked.

“…So the woman that he left with, Jeremy had never seen before. And this guy hung on her every word, gazed at her like she hung the moon, she said all the right things. Almost like he was legit under a spell or something.” You finished.

Sam had his laptop open. His fingers swiftly typed words into the search engine and he then flipped the screen around to show you and Dean what he found.

“I think we might be dealing with another siren.” Said Sam, confidently. “Two other women were murdered by husbands or boyfriends after encounters with beautiful women at that bar. Sirens need love and they compel people to kill to show devotion to them.” He turned to Dean. “Remember that one we dealt with before? The time where we were trying to kill each other?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I remember. I try not to though.”

Preoccupied with Dean’s eyes, they had darkened a little to match better with the green shirt you had on, you covered your infatuation by pushing the chair across from you out from under the table.

“Take a load off, tiger. You’re makin’ me nervous with all this pacin’ around you’re doin’.” You said in between bites of pizza.

The Winchester brothers were your second family and you knew them well, especially Dean so you knew when something was really bothering him. And right now, something was definitely bothering him.

Sam’s face was buried in his laptop, it was quiet in the room except for the sounds of fingers moving across a keyboard, and the tension in the room was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Something about you being there was keeping Dean on edge so you finally decided to break the silence.

“Dean? Come on. What is it? You’re being extra grouchy right now, so grouchy that pizza couldn’t fix it. Ever since I walked outta the bathroom earlier, you’ve been short with me.” You said, calmly.

He pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead and traced the outside of his lips with his thumb and forefinger before narrowing his eyes at you.

You knew that look. The look of an extremely handsome literal green-eyed monster glaring at you from across the table. Dean was close to blowing a gasket.

He pointed at you and in his low gravelly voice said, “I don’t like it when you flirt with other men. There! I said it, ok!? You happy!?”

In one fluid motion, Sam closed his laptop, grabbed the keys to the car and said, “I’m gonna go talk to the cops again. Lemme know when you two work THIS out.”

You started to say, “O-ok, well just be—“

“Yep, I’ll be careful. I know what to look for. I’ll see ya guys later.” Said Sam.

The door closed behind him, the Impala roared to life, and Sam drove off, leaving you and Dean alone in the motel room.

“Well that was weird. Anyway…Dean, I’m just doing what you guys asked me to do! You needed me to get information, so I turned on my charm and I got what we needed just like any other time you’ve needed me for something like this!” You said with a raised voice.

Dean stood up from the table and loosened his tie a little. Unbuttoning the top button on his dress shirt, he didn’t take his gaze away from you.

“You don’t have to be THAT good, ya know! They eat it up every single time! Lemme ask you this…did that Jeremy guy ask for your number?”

Seeing Dean this upset made you think that he didn’t just have a little crush on you.

Feeling a little warm, you unbuttoned a couple of buttons on your blouse and stood up also. You were reluctant to answer him but finally said softly, “Yes, he did.”

“HA! I fuckin’ knew it! They always do and did you give it to him?” Asked Dean.

You started to answer before he interrupted you, “Dean…”

“Did you!?” He asked again.

Not wanting to confess your feelings first, you tried to stall.

“No, I didn’t!” You shouted.

The table was in between the two of you. Both of you were breathing heavily, your jawlines tight with anger and frustration, and the sound of your heart beating inside your chest was deafening.

“Oh yeah?! And why should I believe you, y/n?!” Dean growled.

“I’ve never given any of them my number, Dean! Not a single one!” You bellowed.

His expression softened as he asked, “Well…why not?”

After a long day, you couldn’t help but collapse onto the bed. You allowed your legs to give out and sat down on the edge of the mattress before answering him.

“Why do you think, ya big dumb animal?! Because the only guy's number I want in my phone is yours, Dean! And Sam’s but for different reasons. You know what I’m trying to say, stop looking at me like that.” You said, nervously.

He walked around the table, gazed down at you with his beautiful green eyes, they were the color of fresh blades of grass, and leaned over to inch his face closer to yours. The sprinkling of freckles across his nose was so youthful and adorable. You swallowed hard as you felt his breath against your eyelashes.

“And why do you think I get the way that I do when I see you flirt with other guys? You know why, don’t you sweetheart.” He said, melodiously.

Dean’s lips were ghosting over yours. You were silently begging him to just kiss you and kiss you hard. All the tension that had been building over the years was coming to a head right now. His tie dangled down from around his neck, you were dying to just pull him on top of you and find out what he tastes like…all of him.

“Because you want me as much as I want you?” You replied, gently touching his tie.

Still holding his tie, you inched yourself up toward the headboard. Dean followed your lead as you removed his tie and began to unbutton his dress shirt.

“I want you more.” He purred into your ear before his perfect lips crashed onto yours.

Dean covered your mouth with his own, devouring you with every kiss he placed on your lips, neck and jaw. You won the fight to be on top, although you were sure he let you win, and you continued to unbutton his shirt while he grasped clumsily at the buttons on yours.

They were small so he was having a hard time with them until you stepped in.

“I’ll do them, baby.” You whispered as he haphazardly tossed his clothes to the side.

You stood up and let your pants fall to your ankles while you finished unbuttoning your silk shirt. His desire for you was very apparent by the large tent in his boxers that you felt against your core as soon as you straddled him. The bottom of the shirt brushed against his thighs and goosebumps peppered across his skin.

You decided to let him finish undressing you.

Dean’s hands gently pushed your shirt off of your shoulders and all that was left was the black lace bra that was barely containing your breasts that he could not wait to get you out of. The man was a pro at unhooking your bra with one hand. If you didn’t want him so badly, you would have stopped to give him shit for it.

He lightly nipped the skin down the side of your neck, making you gasp when he got to the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. You felt like you could have come just by him biting down on that sweet spot. The growing ache between your thighs was torture and you desperately wanted him to touch you.

Like he read your mind, his strong hands migrated from your breasts down to your waist. Reaching in between your thighs, Dean teased your entrance with one finger, then slid another inside with ease.

“You’re soaked, sweetheart.” He whispered as a strangled moan escaped your lips.

To suffocate your screams, you bit down on your lower lip as he continued to move his talented fingers, hooking them in just the right spot to make you see stars, and drew circles on your clit to really tease you.

“Dean!” You pleaded, just before you hit your peak and tightly clenched around his fingers.

“You can be loud, baby. These kinds of places are used to noises like that, if ya know what I mean.” He said with a wink and a smirk.

You smiled back, pressed your lips to his, and lightly bit down on his bottom lip before starting to pepper kisses down his chest.

After pulling down his boxers, you took him into your mouth. A deep guttural moan and words of praise fled from Dean’s lips when your tongue circled the underside. That made him draw in a sharp breath as his fingers tangled in your hair.

“Fuck, that feels good, sweetheart.” He hissed and mumbled something else incoherently.

Crawling up his body, he slipped on a condom and then as you straddled him, you replied, “My mouth isn’t just for flirting, Dean.”

He slid into you with ease, burying himself to the hilt, causing you both to gasp before he cut your moan short with a hard kiss. You circled your hips slowly, allowing him to go deeper inside you, and it sent sharp tingles down your spine.

You pulled him in close as your walls began to tighten around him, clinging to him like your life depended on it with your climax starting to build.

Dean’s body was a warm cradle for yours as his fast abrupt strokes were about to send you over the edge and fast. But he loved to look at you so he pulled away slightly and watched your pleasure surge through you.

As you were riding out one orgasm, Dean managed to pull another one from you as you loudly called out his name like no one else was around which made him feral.

His movements became faster, more brutal, pulling out of you just so he could slam into you again and again as his body went rigid underneath you. Crushing your waist, his arms were wrapped around you so tightly that all of the air escaped your lungs.

His release came hard and fast, followed by a strangled moan while your bodies trembled from overstimulation. Dean’s eyes were wide and unfocused as he tried to catch his breath while you leaned in for a gentle kiss and let your fingers glide through his soft brown hair.

Collapsing on top of him, you smiled against his chest as his fingers tickled the outside of your arm and the only thing you could hear was Dean’s heart beating rapidly against your ear.

Trying to get your breathing under control, you covered yourself with the sheet and finally managed to ask, “So…does this mean you don’t want me to flirt for information anymore?”

Dean kissed the top of your head and replied, “As long as you come home with me, I’ll allow it.”

“ALLOW IT?! You’re not the boss of me, Winchester.” You said, sarcastically.

He licked his lips as you looked up at him through your long dark lashes.

In barely more than a whisper, he said, “Well what if I told you you’re really pretty and that I might be…in love with you?”

“Awww…you’re really pretty too!” You said, jokingly.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Alright, I’m tryin’ to—“

Wrapped up in the sheet, you sat upright, cupped his cheeks and pressed your lips to his, your tongue slipped into his mouth to tangle with his as a low growl escaped his lips.

“I might be in love with you too.” You whispered against his mouth.

Chasing each other’s smiles, he continued to kiss you until you heard a key in the door. Sam walked in, took one look at the two of you and without missing a beat said, “Oh good, you two worked it out. So I was thinking, I might know who—“

He stopped, looked at the two of you and shouted, “Guys…that’s MY bed!!”

You and Dean started to laugh.

Oops.

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @stoneyggirl2 @vaguekayla

Others that might enjoy: @k-marzolf @jvanilly @fluffyprettykitty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @deans-spinster-witch @savorxe

If you would like to be added to(or removed from) my tag list(s) for this smexy Winchester, just let me know!

[daydreamer2467]

Sinners: Movie Analysis

Here’s my analysis of Sinners that I put on Letterboxd + some additional commentary💕🩵🎶

I absolutely adored Sinners and was surprised to find so much of my own culture reflected in the film. As such I wanted to give some insight into the Irish vampire Remmick and his connection to its themes, its culture and its story.

Before I go into explaining I want to note that I live in Dublin and am a dual citizen of both the US and Ireland with family and cultural ties to both nations. It is because of my own history and culture that made me resonate and feel so seen by Coogler’s writing of Remmick, the main vampire villain of the movie.

I should also note that Remmick could be a nod to the Irish story of Abhartach, a legend about a man killed who rises from the dead demanding blood. The story has many versions such as Dearg Due, that most likely influenced the Irish writer, Bram Stoker, in writing Dracula.

From the very first scene that Remmick is in, where he is getting chased by the Choctaw vampire hunters, it is obvious the amount of research Coogler has done. For those who don’t know, the Choctaw Nation and Ireland have a very long history dating back to the Famine, a genocide against Ireland by the British. Wherein the Choctaw Nation donated $5,000 in today’s money not long after the Trail of Tears to help the country. Since then both peoples have maintained a relationship, with Ireland paying back the Choctaw Nation for their help. There’s even a memorial down in Cork to commemorate our relationship.

It felt ironic watching this scene for the first time knowing this long history but looking back it perfectly sets up the movie’s main theme surrounding Remmick. That’s because in this scene Remmick is pointedly finding safety in the house of a KKK member, the literal embodiment of white supremacy. Remmick is doing what many Irish Americans did at the time, turning their back on community in an effort to appeal to an American standard of whiteness (Irishmen hadn’t been considered white before this time period), eventually becoming that standard of whiteness themselves. Knowing this, the Choctaw men hunting him seems more like mercy kill than an actual hunting. Seeing it this way, it could even be mirroring a scene later in the film between Annie and Smoke.

I think it’s important to note that the core theme of this film is how culture and community are linked and what happens to people who’ve lost their culture and community. That is what Remmick, and what so many Irish Americans want and are cut off from. When he sees Sammy and the Juke Joint dancing with the past, present, and future spirits, he sees a tie to his own culture that he has lost. Except instead of wanting a mutual consensual connection between himself and Black Americans, he wants to take it over in a desperate attempt to get something that’s already lost.

When he sings ‘Pick Poor Robin Clean’ to try and get into the Juke Joint, he is imitating a song written and sung by Black Americans, taking it over, gentrifying it, and trying to use Black American culture for his own gain.

Though he doesn’t just sing this song, in fact he sings two songs that I have heard my whole life and was very shocked to hear in this movie. The first is ‘Will You Go Lassie, Go?’ and it is sung to the white passing character Mary before the vampires kill her. The song is an old folk song about a young man yearning for his love who has gone away. Though Scottish in origin it was reinterpreted by Francis McPeake and gifted to a woman named Maggi Pierce who left Ireland for America. In that sense it is also a mourning song for someone who is going far away, never to return. For those who don’t know, an ‘American Wake’ was a practice in Ireland for mourning someone leaving for America because they would not be able to have a funeral in their home country once they died.

When Remmick and the other vampires sing this for Mary, it is a song mourning a community already gone. He is a dead man, singing a mourning song, in a land that calls for funerals back home.

From this point on, Remmick grows his group of vampires larger and larger, trying to mimic the community they had when he wasn’t with them. They sing and preform the song ‘The Rocky Road to Dublin’, a rebel song about the oppression and colonization Britain exerts over Ireland. That being said, Remmick is the only one Irish dancing, all of the other vampires are just surrounding him without any real dances of their own. I saw a few people point out that they were dancing counter clockwise which could be a reference to Irish Sidhe/Fairy Folk who trick humans into dancing forever by going counter clockwise (though this is just speculation). There is also a lack of past and future spirits with them as they are neither dead nor alive. Their connection to their community is gone and their culture too.

I've seen some Irish people say that choosing these songs is lazy because of how widely known they are, but I disagree. Remmick is a man cut off from his culture, so it makes sense that the songs he knows are a bit superficial. I also agree with casting Jack O'Connell instead of an Irish person born and raised in country because I think he has a better understanding of Irish people in the diaspora and their relationship with Irish culture.

The last song we hear from Remmick after this is ‘Pick Poor Robin Clean’ again, only this time with all the people he has taken and transformed from the Juke Joint. He is, without intending to, the embodiment of white supremacy and how it takes and takes and takes.

When he fights Sammy, he does what many Irish Americans do, use their people’s past subjection to justify their oppression and bigotry over others. They know enough about oppression to knock on the door and peek inside, but because of their willingness to assimilate into American whiteness, the only community they have left to be a part of is one founded and controlled by white supremacy.

Before, Remmick was most likely someone like Sammy, a Filí able to use music to gather community, which is why he uses it to gather more and more vampires, yet he doesn’t understand that this is doing the exact opposite of building the community he yearns for.

In As Gaeilge, the Irish language, there’s a saying, “Tír gan Teanga, Tír gan Anam” which translates to “A country without a language is a country without a soul”. At no point in the movie does Remmick even speak Irish and the rest of the time he is switching between accents whenever it seems beneficial. I see Remmick, and many people who claim to be Irish American without any actual connection to Ireland, as the embodiment of this saying. They are people who have lost their language, their culture, their people, and as such have lost their soul to hate pretending to be community.

When Remmick is finally killed by the sun and burned in a giant cauldron of fire, it may seem to some that he is being punished and sent to hell. This is not how I interpreted his death, having had prior knowledge of Irish folktales as well as just attending Bealtaine at the Hill of Uisneach in Westmeath a couple weeks ago. For those who don’t know Bealtaine is an old Irish festival celebrating the coming summer, the return of the sun and life itself. I view Remmick’s death as a reflection of this festival (& other Irish pagan festivals) and his return to his ancestors after finally embracing the sun once more (just like how Annie said vampires are cut off from this connection, he is finally free to have it once more). Below is a picture I took at Bealtaine that I think looks very similar to Remmick’s fire in the movie.

Sinners is a movie about what happens when you allow hate to walk right through your door and how it isolates you from everything you hold dear. When Mary and Stack speak with an older Sammy, Stack mentions how the music hasn’t felt ‘real’ since that night, having lost the connection that living and dying gives to the evolution of his people.

Setting aside Remmick, I still absolutely loved this film, and he is by no means it’s major highlight. The way Coogler depicts Black American culture, its beauty, tenderness, and relation to music is masterful and I sincerely hope this film gets all the awards it deserves. I won’t go deep into his depiction of Black Americans and Black American culture because it is not my culture to speak on, and this analysis is already way too long. I will say though that this film is a masterclass in how culture and community relate to characters and their motivations. I think it’ll go down as one of the best horror films of the genre and I can’t wait to see what else Ryan Coogler and everyone who worked on this film makes.

[dioslesbianwife]

hiyaa headcanons for the jofoes with Bosnian y/n? (if u dont know what i mean i can explain!) Bosnian is a person from Bosnia and Herzegovina (real country btw) and in this context, in my culture, we take pride in good cooking, clean houses, and have a huge coffee influence from both genders.

hii, that sounds super interesting! I love cultural details like that. here’s how they'd react to a Bosnian s/o-

Dio 

Dio, being obsessed with power and status, finds your dedication to maintaining a pristine home incredibly appealing. He sees it as a reflection of discipline and control, two things he respects.

Loves Bosnian coffee culture. He’ll sit at the table like a king while you brew it, feeling like an ancient ruler being served.

He listens to you explain the cultural significance, and while he pretends to be aloof, he adores every second of it.

Kars

Kars is all about perfection, and to him, your flawless cooking, your impeccable cleaning, and your deep rooted cultural traditions are fascinating.

He’d probably ask you so many questions about your food, how you prepare it, what spices you use, and why it tastes so good.

He enjoys the ritual of Bosnian coffee, the careful preparation and the strong, bitter taste. He drinks it with you in silence, soaking in the atmosphere of tradition and control.

Esidisi 

Overly dramatic reactions to your food. One bite, and he’s throwing his head back, groaning about how godly it tastes.

He adores your dedication to cleaning and cooking because it reminds him of a tight-knit, old-fashioned lifestyle. He loves feeling taken care of, and he adores taking care of you in return.

Loves the Bosnian coffee tradition, though he probably heats it up way too hot at first until you correct him.

Wamuu 

He has immense respect for your discipline when it comes to keeping the home perfect and cooking flawless meals. He views it as a form of warrior’s training, a way of sharpening one’s skills to perfection.

Loves the social aspect of Bosnian coffee. It’s a moment to bond and reflect, and he finds that incredibly meaningful.

Probably starts helping you clean and cook without you asking, just because he sees it as honorable and respectful.

Kira Yoshikage 

Obsessed with how well you keep the house. If it’s spotless and perfectly maintained, you’ve basically won his heart.

Your cooking? Heavenly. The way you carefully prepare meals with patience and precision makes him feel like he’s living the perfect life.

Loves how the Bosnian coffee tradition is so refined and ritualistic. It’s the kind of thing that soothes his nerves after a long day of pretending to be a normal businessman.

Diavolo

He acts like he doesn’t care about things like cooking and cleaning, but deep down, it comforts him more than he’d ever admit.

The warmth of your food, the smell of a perfectly clean home- it makes him feel safe, something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Secretly loves how structured the Bosnian coffee tradition is. It’s predictable, stable, something he can hold onto.

Doppio 

Loves loves loves your food. He gets so excited every time you cook, eagerly hovering around the kitchen and asking what you’re making.

Tries so hard to help you clean but is honestly just in the way. You let him do small tasks, and he beams with pride.

Loves the Bosnian coffee tradition, he’d also be very happy if you let him show you Italian coffee traditions.

Enrico Pucci 

He finds great meaning in the structure of Bosnian coffee tradition, relating it to religious rituals. He sees it as a sacred moment, a time of reflection and connection.

Probably starts praying before coffee because it feels so important to him.

Respects how disciplined you are in your cooking and cleaning. To him, it represents dedication, and he admires you deeply for it.

Funny Valentine 

He loves the emphasis on hospitality in your culture. The way you take so much pride in hosting, cooking, and keeping things perfect, it reminds him of great leaders in history.

At first, he thinks you’re spoiling him with your amazing home cooked meals and perfect housekeeping, but then he realizes it’s just how you are. You take pride in your work, and that makes him respect you even more.

Finds the Bosnian coffee tradition fascinating. He treats it with the same reverence as a diplomatic ceremony, loving how it represents respect and community.

Diego Brando 

Thinks your dedication to cooking and cleaning is admirable because it shows discipline. He respects people who take pride in their skills.

Finds it endearing how you insist on making the home perfect. Something about it makes him feel oddly comforted.

Loves the intensity of Bosnian coffee and drinks it black, savoring the bitterness. It makes him feel sharp and focused.

Tooru 

He adores that you’re so good at cooking and keeping the house perfect, but he absolutely takes advantage of it.

Loves watching you brew coffee, enjoying the care and attention you put into it. He finds it charming, but he also loves that he gets to relax while you handle everything.

Pretends he doesn’t care, but if you ever stopped cooking for him? He’d be devastated.

[moonsunlovers]

Hi! Nobody is going to read this probably lol as I’m new in this app (not in Jikook world though). But I just wanted to point out a little detail that not a lot of people is talking about regarding the watch thing.

When we talk about theories I like to try to be the more impartial and clinic possible. I don’t like to get carried by my own desires to see any Jikook manifestation in their little acts because sometimes there’s nothing there, just us missing them and their bond deeply. But sometimes too, there’s some things that you can not explain at all. And this is one of this cases.

When I saw this morning people talking about the watch thing the first thing I thought was “please, don’t be like those shippers outside that are desperate to prove anything, we don’t need that”, but then I stopped and read carefully and objectively the facts that people where putting on the table. And I must say that, after thinking logically at it, it doesn’t make sense that Jimin had his watch with a completely different time zone in his live, a different time that coincidently it’s Junkook’s birth time. On his birthday. Suspicious.

Specially if the obvious justification is automatically discarded. “He must have wear that watch when he traveled to another time zone and did not set the time correctly when he came back”. Yeah, sure, that was my first thought, but then I realized. When you change your time zone you change hours, not minutes. You add or rest hours depending on which country you are traveling, like from Korea to US, that you have to change like 12 hours on the clock, but the minutes stays the same. So how can we explain that when Jimin started the live in Korea was 20.54 but his watch said 15.23??? As I said, it doesn’t make sense, because if it was because of a time zone then it should be 8.54, not 15.23 (and I say 8.54 because is the time that his watch should read in case he has the time zone of NY, -12h).

You can see in the following picture the time zones of my place of reference (European time zone), you add hours in the case of Seoul, or rest hours in the case of New York, but the minutes still the same.

What other theory could it be? The watch doesn’t work properly? It didn’t seam so as it worked perfectly in the live. The watch battery stopped working, he changed it and forgot to change the time? Could be, but isn’t the normal thing to automatically correct the time once you get your watch to work properly again?? I don’t know, call me crazy but Jimin is a person that gives a lot of attention on the details, specially when we are talking about his appearance and complements such as rings, earrings, watches… I would find it really strange that he didn’t have everything on point.

So… the other explanation is that it was on purpose, just a little detail for the ones who know to what you should pay attention to. Jimin and Jungkook have used numerology before. We have seen it in their t-shirt’s, in festa things and interviews, in mentions in their concerts, in tweets posted at specific hours… It’s nothing new, if you follow Jikook closely you must know it.

Another thing that we should take into account is that Jimin didn’t wear the watch in the Dior event. He put it specifically to do the live at home. He told us that after it he was going to wash up, remove his make up and rest, so we suppose he wasn’t going to go anywhere. Why would you put your watch to stay at home, alone, just to do a live? The only logical answer is that he wanted us to see it, otherwise nobody arrives at home changes clothes and decides to put your expensive watch again just to sit on a chair an spend some time on the internet with army.

Is it really unbelievable that Jimin made a little reference to Jungkook’s birth on his birthday? Is it really unbelievable when he just came to Weverse on live just to show us his mood lamp and tell us to wish him a happy birthday? Honestly my friends, they had made more bold and incredible things and still here we are. It wouldn’t be the first nor the last time they do something mind blowing to let us know that something is going on with them, so even if this is just coincidence or it was totally on purpose I must say that I’m here for all of it.

[theshypinkflower]

Omg!!! I been thinking this all since my shift and I'm on lunch break right now at the moment. I wanna personally know how you feel about both sal and fox breeding kink?? ♥

obviously they are different from how you explained them in previous questions or headcanonss but do they give each tips about breeding to each other??

Since we all know that fox wants to pound pups in MC (us).

And the headcanons of the fanon kids you made of sal, it makes me wonder if sal hates the burden of having kids but the masculinity in him that his seed being spreads everywhere. I feel like he's the type of man that flexes his fertility to infertile men and how he can still get women pregnant at his age. - 🐀

You my friend have described it so perfectly.

I don’t think they give tips to each other. I mean the only time they talk is at auctions or during streams (mostly just Sal making comments n shit). Really they bond together over the suffering of victims and the absolute blood bath that occurred.

But you are so right that Sal brags about his fertility. Sal hardly cares for his kids (they grew up with a nanny, even before their mom died) but it’s the masculinity of being able to breed. I mean all his other golf buddies (I quote them) don’t get any because their wives don’t want to (I.e. the headache, I’m not feeling it, LITERALLY VALID REASONS), they need Viagra and frankly ordering it and finding the right time to take it is embarrassing, they’re already at the point of infertility, or they’re no longer attracted to their wives (age n such, but divorce is too messy and blah blah blah). Sal’s promiscuity is such a brag. Like Sal can still pick up chicks even with greys coming in and he can still make babies. He so says “guess I just got strong swimmers” (IM CRINGING TYPING THAT OUT). The fact he has 3:8 on girls to boys is also a flex. If he could he’d probably have nothing but boys just like him, but ya know at some point he’s gotta have a girl. He’s at least proud his eldest girl is successful. Sal is pushing 50 and he’ll show up to the country club like, “Ugh, im so tired. I got a newborn at home.” And everyone will just snap their heads and go “AGAIN?!” Cause at some point all his kids start being a massive sign that Sal doesn’t know how to wear a condom. Which btw, Sal hates condoms! He’s so the guy to take a condom off mid sex because it “feels better” (never trust this man with your drink at a bar).

TLDR: yes Sal hates the burden of raising kids (despite not being the one actually raising them) but having so many is such a flex for him

[letmeridethatstaff]

The Truman and (Y/N) Show

Chapter 2: A New Morning

Please do not repost. Do not translate and repost. I do not own The Truman Show this is simply parody.

Word Count: ~1,500

Relationship: Truman Burbank x Reader; established

Warnings:

- Kidnapping (essentially)

- talks of schizophrenia

- Reader basically has a panic attack

- Truman also freaking out

- bad mother in law relationship

- briefly edited but not a lot

~~~

The next day both Truman and (Y/N) had a slow start to the day. Embraced in one another and talked about the new magazine Truman had picked up yesterday. She talked about her art. Even though they never spoke about the incident at the ferry pier, they never had to when they understood one another.

~

“Hello?” (Y/N) picked up their home phone after she had started making a late breakfast.

“(Y/N) I saw my dad!” It was Truman frantically whispering through the telephone.

“What? What are you talking about Truman?”

“Listen I can’t talk here meet me at my mothers and I’ll explain everything.”

“Okay just be safe love you.”

“I love you too.” They hung up. (Y/N) made toast to go and headed to Truman’s moms house.

~

After explaining what he saw. “Am I going insane?” He was sitting in front of his mom holding (Y/N)’s hand. She was rubbing her thumb back and forth across the backside of his hand.

“It doesn’t sound insane at all, Truman.” (Y/N) tried comforting him.

“Oh my dear I see him 10 times a week. In a hundred different faces. Why I almost hugged a perfect stranger in the salon last Thursday!” His mom stated.

“It was dad,” Truman urged. (Y/N) started rubbing his back. “I swear! Dressed like a- a homeless man, and you know what else was strange? A businessman and a woman with a little dog came out of nowhere and forced him onto a bus!” (Y/N) was concerned now and her interest peaked there was no way Truman was making this up.

“Well I’m glad they finally started cleaning the trash up downtown. Before we become like the rest of the country.” (Y/N) and Truman’s mom didn’t always get along.

“Well…” (Y/N) started to say, “they never found a body.” She shrugged her shoulders. Truman snapped his fingers at her. But his mother gave her a dirty look.

“Yes! See (Y/N) understands! Maybe somehow-“ Truman’s mom groaned. “Well if it wasn’t him then it was his twin! Did he have a brother?!” Truman had started to pace now.

“Truman, you know perfectly well that your father was an only child. Just like you.” Truman stops standing and goes to sit back down by (Y/N). “You both are just feeling bad because of what happened.” (Y/N) held in a scoff but was more than pleased to shoot daggers at her. “You two sailing off into that storm- I never blamed either of you-“ (Y/N) highly doubted that, “I don’t blame either of you now.” She patted Truman’s knee in a comforting manner.

~

After speaking with his mother, Truman took the day off and spent the day with (Y/N). Watching her paint and thinking. Both ended up in the basement looking at old memories: photos of Truman’s dad, a map to Fiji, and the cardigan Sylvia/Lauren had gifted (Y/N) before she was taken.

The scene transitions to Seahaven High. There (Y/N) is in the field with Sylvia/Lauren. Their chatting and then she catches eyes with Truman. Starring longingly at one another but looking away. “Do you like him?” Her friend asks,

“We’re childhood friends but it’s…been different lately with it being high school and all.” She nods in understanding.

“Well if you want,” she emphasizes, “you should ask him out.” (Y/N) shakes her head no in ernest, “Oh no no no he’s supposed to be with a cheerleader like Meryl and I’m supposedly supposed to end up with a guy like Marlon. At least that’s what my mom keeps telling me.” She shakes her head, “No-no (Y/N) forge your own path. You shouldn’t be forced to love someone you don’t.” (Y/N) gives a shy smile, “Thank you.”

~

The scene then changes to the school dance. (Y/N) ends up dancing with Truman. She took her friends advice and was thankful for it. She saw her across the dance floor and kept smiling at her. She was about to go over to her when men in suits talked to her and took her outside. (Y/N)’s concern was growing.

~

The scene then changes to the school library. Truman and (Y/N) are studying for their upcoming test. Meryl and Marlon are trying to get them to hang out. Of course being the good students they were and trying to get some alone time they didn’t go along. They were studying flashcards when (Y/N) noticed her friend.

“Hey!” (Y/N) scooted her chair over to Lauren’s.

“Oh hi (Y/N).” Lauren was looking around almost concerned.

“Are you okay Lauren? I saw you leave the dance.”

“I’m fine.” She tried reassuring her and waving her off. “But uh (Y/N) I-I’m not allowed to be friends with you anymore.” (Y/N) was panicked.

“What why?! You’re my best friend.” (Y/N) grasped her hands.

“Please (Y/N),” (Y/N) needed to know more and make sure her friend was safe. Maybe it was her dad or her mom stopping the friendship.

“Come with me. Please so we can talk.” She urged Lauren.

“Okay.”

They got up, (Y/N) telling Truman she’d be back. Lauren took her all over the place and out the door. They ran to their favorite spot on the beach. Lauren took off her cardigan and they ran down the sand dune. Making it act as a makeshift cape.

“(Y/N) they don’t want me to talk to you. We have so little time. Their watching us.”

“Please please tell me, tell me your safe. Whose they?” All of a sudden a car started racing down the sand dune.

“They’re here!”

“Who? Whose here? Your dad?”

“(Y/N) listen to me: everybody knows about you. Everybody knows about Truman. Trust Truman! Everybody knows everything you two do. They’re pretending, (Y/N),” Lauren was frantically grasping (Y/N)’s arms. “Do you understand?! Everybody’s pretending, everybody, except you and Truman!” She was urgent and rushing her words.

“L-Lauren I don’t understand!” (Y/N) held concern in her eyes for friend.

“No! No my names not Lauren! It’s Sylvia! My names Sylvia!!”

“Sylvia?”

“Yeah!” The car finally reached them and her dad stepped out.

“Lauren, sweetheart, not again.” Again?

“Who are you?” (Y/N) questioned.

“I’m her father.” (Y/N) never met Lau-Sylvia’s father before but this man didn’t act like a father should.

“I’ve never seen this man before in my life!” Sylvia was clutching on to (Y/N). (Y/N) was ready to risk it all and have them rush back to the school. The man started to take Sylvia away from her.

“Hey! Hey wait a minute!”

“(Y/N) listen to me everything I’ve told you is the truth!” She picked up sand and put it in (Y/N)’s hands. “It’s all fake! The sand, sky, the sea- it’s all a set! For you and Truman! It’s all a show! Everybody’s watching both of you! Please don’t listen to him. He’s gonna lie to you! They’re watching us now!” Sylvia had been put into the car by her “dad”.

“Hey let her go!” (Y/N) pushed the man and tried to go for the door of the car. The man quickly stood in front of the car door, “Schizophrenia! She suffers from schizophrenia! We’ve tried everything shock therapy, hypnosis-“ a horn was being honked by Sylvia.

“You’re not the first. She brings all her so called friends down her and does the same act.” The man got into the car. Sylvia leans over the man to the open window towards (Y/N).

“Get out of here- both of you. Come and find me!” She urgently whispers.

“We’re going to Fiji!” Her “father” states. There were tears in (Y/N)’s eyes. They drove off. (Y/N) was panicking, she picked up the red cardigan out of the sand, she ran to the nearest phone booth and called 911. Explaining the whole situation to them. She then ran home and called Truman asking him to come over. She was distraught at losing her best friend. She clutched the cardigan and layed down on Truman’s lap. He rubbed her back listening to it all.

~

Audience memeber 1: “why didn’t she just follow her to Fiji?”

Audience memeber 2: “Truman’s mom got really sick and so did her dad. She couldn’t leave any of them. She’s so kind. Maybe she’s too kind.”

Audience memeber 1: “How did she cope?”

Audience Memeber2: “she fell into her paintings. That’s how she got so good. A lot of people think it’s so she can replicate the one she lost. And Truman was her landline as well.”

Their boss walks up behind them.

“Excuse me. Come on, Sal. We’ve already got this on the greatest hits tape.”

Audience member 1: “Can I borrow that?”

~

The scene switches back to Truman and (Y/N) in the basement. (Y/N) thinking about Sylvia and looking off into the distance. Rubbing her thumb across the cardigan as she held it close to her chest. Truman starts unpacking the magazine pieces for her. Going through the pieces together, she finally finds the pair of eyes of her best friend. Sylvia and (Y/N) weren’t ones to take photos together- (Y/N) being camera shy. She regretted not taking photos more. But her art was a way to find Sylvia whether that be trying to paint her or making a collage. She had to find Sylvia- they both did- they needed answers. They needed Fiji.



[ssweeterthanfiction]

She's An Angel.

camila dunne x fem!reader content warnings: mentions of drugs (70s party type stuff) summary: meeting camila. (camila x songbird universe) wc: 900

masterlist.

Hollywood Hills, 1976

You were at a party, the air was thick with cigarette smoke, whiskey, and drugs.

The music was loud, the chatter was loud. Everything was too loud.

You tug at your too-tight dress and take a sip of your drink as you look around, people were dancing and enjoying themselves.

You should be enjoying yourself, you should be "networking", impressing important execs, but all you wanted to do was go home. You take another sip of your drink and then look around the room again.

Then, you see her.

She’s across the room, laughing, radiant as all hell, the kind of woman who could light up a place without even trying. She’s perched on the arm of a couch, drink in hand, with the most gorgeous smile on her face.

She's an angel.

And for a moment, you forget what you’re supposed to be doing. You forget that you cam to impress people.

You only see her.

Then she glances your way—and smiles.

And then she starts making her way to you.

"Hey," she says, still smiling. "I don’t think I’ve seen you around before."

Her voice is honey-smooth, warm in a way that makes your pulse stutter.

"Hi...yeah I'm- I'm kinda new."

She quirks an eyebrow, "Where from?"

You tell her and formally introduce yourself. For some reason...you're nervous.

She tilts her head, interested. "Oh, I love that," she says, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "So what brings you to LA?"

You explain, your nerves starting to ease with the way she listens—really listens—and the way she doesn’t rush you, doesn’t make you feel like an outsider.

"I’m a singer," you say, nervously twirling the stem of your glass between your fingers.

Her eyes light up immediately, a genuine warmth in them that makes you feel seen. "Really? What kind of music?"

"I guess...country-pop. Kind of blending the two. You know, a little twang, but with more sparkle."

She grins. "That’s amazing! I grew up on country music, my mom loved it."

The casual ease with which she speaks, as though she’s known you for years, is comforting. You find yourself drawn in, the conversation flowing like it was meant to happen.

You barely even notice the time passing when she says, "I should introduce you to someone." She looks over her shoulder, and you follow her gaze. That’s when you see him for the first time.

Billy Dunne.

You’ve heard of him.

Of course you’ve heard of him.

The frontman of Daisy Jones & The Six.

The one everyone in the industry either wants to be or be with.

But seeing him in person is different. His presence fills the room, even from across the distance. He’s standing with his arms crossed, leaning against a wall, that sharp gaze of his taking in everything—and everyone. The way his hair falls just perfectly around his face, the way his posture exudes some kind of quiet authority.

For a moment....you forget about him entirely.

Camila is the one who holds your attention, the one who feels like home in this foreign place. But when she gestures toward him, you have no choice but to acknowledge his presence.

"This is Billy," she says, her tone warm and affectionate, and when she speaks his name, it feels like everything else falls away for just a second.

"My husband."

The words hit you like a slap to the chest, unexpected and sharp.

A flash of something runs through you—hurt, disappointment, confusion—but you shove it down quickly, the masking it with a smile.

You can’t let it show.

You shouldn’t let it show.

But it’s hard to ignore the sudden tightness in your chest, the way your heart stutters.

Because she is the one you want.

Billy says something—his voice low, but not unkind—introducing himself.

You try to focus on his words, trying to push back the frustration, trying to seem normal.

It’s fine.

You’re fine.

But still, that feeling lingers in the air between you two.

You look back at Camila, and she’s smiling at Billy, her eyes lighting up when she looks at him. The way she speaks to him, touches his arm—it’s all too easy, too natural.

They’re together.

And you swallow hard, nodding and smiling, keeping everything locked inside.

"I’ve heard a lot about you too," you manage to say, though it feels almost hollow. "It’s nice to meet both of you."

Billy gives you a nod, but his gaze doesn’t quite leave you. There’s something in the way he watches you that feels...off. Like he’s sizing you up, but not in the way he would with anyone else. This is different.

The conversation continues, but you can’t help but notice how often Billy’s eyes flick back to you, his gaze lingering just a little too long, his body language a little too rigid. There’s a shift in the energy of the conversation, and it doesn’t take long for you to realize what it is.

Billy doesn’t like you.

It’s subtle, just the way his eyes narrow every time you speak, how he keeps looking back at Camila, like he’s making sure she’s not paying too much attention to you. Like he’s trying to make sure you don’t start stepping into his territory.

You should probably be concerned by it, but honestly? You don't care.

You only care about this angel of a woman in front of you.

A/N: me rn

[notwiselybuttoowell]

In Europe, Pringles has 34 active flavours in seven can sizes (one of which is called “David” for reasons no one can explain). Not all of these flavours are available in every European country – prawn cocktail only really sells in the UK and Ireland, while bacon is found in most places except Belgium, the Netherlands and strongholds of vegetarianism Austria, Denmark and Sweden. Salt and vinegar has spread everywhere except Norway and Italy. “They don’t have the habit of doing vinegar on their crisps; they just eat them plain with salt,” says Julie Merzougui, lead food designer at Kellanova. If an employee in Italy wanted to explore bringing salt and vinegar to the market, they could – they’d simply have to ask. As of yet, they haven’t.

Multiple times a year, Pringles releases limited-edition flavours known internally as “insanely accurate analogues” – Merzougui and Peremans come up with these for Europe. “People think we have the dream job,” Merzougui says (she has dark hair, round glasses and an easy laugh, a personality akin to an experimental flavour – perhaps a chorizo Pringle). Peremans, who has worked at the company for 26 years, has a salt and pepper beard and a Salt & Shake personality. He speaks quietly and pragmatically, but has a subtle playful streak: “My young son, he wants to become my successor.”

Like Lay’s, Pringles starts with data – in Asia, the company uses a Tinder-like tool with 200 consumers at a time, asking them to swipe left or right on potential flavours. Lucia Sudjalim, a senior Pringles developer in Asia, says she does a lot of “social media listening”, observing trends among influencers and bloggers. Kellanova also uses AI, which Merzougui says can predict trends up to 10 years in advance. Things aren’t always this sophisticated though – both Lay’s and Pringles also look at what’s on the shelves in countries they want to break into, copying flavours and identifying gaps to fill.

Yet just because the world wants a flavour doesn’t mean it’s made. In December 2020, scotch egg sales soared in the UK after Conservative ministers ruled the snack a “substantial meal” (providing punters with an excuse to be in the pub under Covid-19 lockdown rules). Peremans was challenged to make scotch egg Pringles and pulled it off; Merzougui says they tasted “really authentic”. Ultimately, however, the potential order volume was not high enough to justify a production run. (This, incidentally, is why it’s hard to get Salt & Pepper Pringles in the UK, even though they’re delicious.)

Another unreleased flavour was part of a collaboration with Nando’s that petered out for reasons Peremans is unsure about. Sometimes, logistics get in the way: the perfectly blended seasoning might clog the machines or create too much dust, causing sneezing fits in the factory. Belgian legislation mandates that every seasoning has to be put through a dust explosion test – it is set alight in controlled conditions to ensure it won’t blow up.

Inside the plant, manager Van Batenburg shows me giant cube-shaped bags of seasonings that arrive ready to be cascaded on to the crisps. At the end of his video presentation, he made a passing comment that rocked my world. We were talking about other crisp companies, big name competitors. “In essence,” he said, “they’re using the same seasoning houses we do.”

I leave Belgium with the names of three seasoning houses Pringles work with. At home, I discover that their websites are obscure – they speak of flavours and trends, but don’t even mention Pringles. I haven’t so much stumbled upon a conspiracy as been invited into it, but I am still shocked. After two months’ cajoling by the Pringles team, two representatives from a seasoning house agree to speak – but only on the condition of total anonymity, in line with their contractual obligations.

“It’s quite secretive,” food scientist Reuben admits via Zoom, wearing a pink shirt and a thoughtful expression (the only crisp I can compare him to is a Quaver). “Everyone has their own crown jewels that they protect.”

As a marketer, Peggy has always found the company’s secrecy “strange”. She speaks clearly, in a way that is reminiscent of a teacher or a steadfast multigrain snack. “It’s always been a bit of a puzzle to me … I was like, ‘Why aren’t we shouting about this?’ But I was told, ‘Oh, no, we have to keep it very quiet.’”

This is because – just as Van Batenburg hinted in Belgium – the seasoning house Reuben and Peggy work for provides flavours for Pringles and Lay’s, as well as other brands. When asked whether their clients know, Reuben says, “They do and they don’t.” “It’s just not really talked about,” Peggy adds. However, this doesn’t mean that a Salt & Vinegar Pringle is flavoured with the same seasoning as a Salt & Vinegar Lay’s. In fact, the seasoning house is strictly siloed to guarantee exclusivity. Reuben’s team work on the Pringles account; the team making flavours for PepsiCo is in an entirely different country. “So the recipe, if you will, of the Pringles salt and vinegar can’t be seen by the other team,” Reuben says.

[azucar-skull]

ROTLOU One-shot - "Lies"

Another one-shot for ROTLOU that has been sitting in my docs for a week and I forgot about it whoops my bad

ROTLOU Masterpost

Genre: Post-apocalyptic

Word count: 994

TWs: Dead bodies (skeletons)

Walking. Walking. Walking.

Nothing but walking. And Casey is getting bored. He looks around the woods they’re in and the pathway they’re taking until something piques his interest.

“Holy shit.”, he chuckles.

A crashed plane, settling and rotting on top of a hill. Casey can only imagine what it’s like when that thing was in its heyday. Casey and Leo slow their pacing to stare at the site. It looked so cool.

“Did you ever fly in one of those?”, he asks.

“A few times, sure.”, Leo hums. “More or less. My brother kinda made his own thing to fly in.”

“So lucky.”

“Didn’t feel like it at the time. Get shoved into a middle seat, pay 12 bucks for a sandwich—”

“Dude, you got to go up in the sky.”, Casey sasses, his smile still wide on his face.

Leo didn’t seem to like that smile. “...Yeah, well. So did they.”

The turtle keeps walking after that, bringing the mood down with him. Casey frowns as he starts walking again.

“...Grim.”, he mutters.

They walk more, and Casey starts to ponder. Those people in the plane were going from one part of the world to another. But they crashed? Did the infection start in one spot or all over the place? How does that even happen? The curious teen voices his questions, a 50/50 shot whether or not Leo is in the mood to answer.

“So, everything came crashing down in one day?”, Casey asks.

“Pretty much.”, Leo nods.

“How? I mean…no one was infected with Cordyceps, everybody’s fine, eating in restaurants and flying in planes. And then…all at once? How did it even start?” The teen begins to ramble in thought. “If you have to get bit to be infected, then who bit the first person? Was it a monkey?! I bet it was a monkey!—”

“It wasn’t a monkey. I thought you went to school.”, Leo rolls his eyes in annoyance. He’s not the only one annoyed to be with the other.

“FEDRA school. They don’t teach us about how their shitty government failed to prevent a pandemic.” (ooooo too close to home lmao)

They keep walking for a bit, Casey noticing how Leo is thinking about something. Then the slider speaks.

“...No one knows for sure, but, best guess…Cordyceps mutated. And some of it got into the food supply. Probably a basic ingredient like flour or sugar. There were certain brands of food that were sold everywhere, all across the country, across the world. Bread, cereal…pancake mix…” Leo pauses, his expression dimming for a faint moment. “You eat enough of it, it’ll get you infected. So the tainted food all hits the store shelves around the same time, Thursday. People bought it, ate some Thursday night or Friday morning. Day goes on…they started to get sick. Afternoon, evening, they got worse. …Then they started biting.”

Casey’s brows furrow at the layout of what happened that day. At how Leo is explaining it all to him. To be perfectly honest, this is probably the most that Casey has ever heard Leo talk. The dude is always so quiet, it’s so awkward.

“Friday night, September 26, 2031.”, Leo says definitively, as if he’s memorized and recited the date over and over again. “And by Monday, everything was gone.”

The two are quiet for a while after that. Casey can tell that Outbreak Day still weighs heavy on the red-eared slider’s shoulders. He’s lost something. Lost everything. Casey doesn’t know what but…he’s not going to ask about that now.

“...It makes more sense than monkeys.”, Casey finally says. “Thanks.”

“...Sure.”

Leo looks up ahead, recognizing something. He stops, putting his hand out to stop Casey too.

“What?”, Casey asks, looking around.

“...We’ll cut across the woods here.”, Leo points to the trees in the distance.

“Isn’t the road easier?”

“Yeah, it’s just… There’s stuff up there you shouldn’t see.”

Interesting. Casey smirks, continuing to walk, going backwards as to face Leo. “Well now I have to see.”

“I don’t want you to.”, Leo warns. “Seriously. Casey!”

He begins walking after the kid who turns back around.

“Can it hurt me?”

“...No.”

Casey flips back around to the slider. “You’re too honest, man. Should’ve said axe murderer.”

They keep walking, Casey taking the lead to see what it is that Leo is so afraid of. But…there’s a whole bunch of fucking nothing up ahead. 

“Uh…whatever it was…I think it’s gone.”, Casey calls out.

Casey might’ve well just jinxed himself. He takes a look to his left, down the hill, and is disgusted by what he sees. Bones. A bunch of bones, skeletons. Still in their clothes, different shapes and sizes too with discarded suitcases galore. They look like they’ve been there for a while, the earth below coming to claim the bodies.

Leo walks up next to the kid, Casey looking to him for answers but doesn’t know how to ask. He doesn’t have to though.

“About a week after Outbreak Day, soldiers…”, Leo glances down at the bodies, Casey looks back too. “...went through the countryside, evacuated the small towns. Told you you were going to a QZ, and you were…if there was room. If there wasn’t…”

Casey’s expression softens with confusion and sorrow as he stares at all the bodies. How horrible… His eyes start to water but he tries his best to hide it.

“...T-These people weren’t sick?”, Casey mutters.

“No, probably not.”

“...Why kill them? Why not just leave them be?”

“Dead people can’t be infected.”, Leo spats. So calmly, so nonchalant.

FEDRA are a bunch of fucking sick people. They’re supposed to be on our side. They raised Casey, he thought he could trust them. But ever since he’s escaped outside their walls, all he’s been hearing is nothing but lies lies lies. They tricked him. His friend tricked him. April tricked him. Who was he to trust anymore?

Leo nudges the teen. And so they keep walking.

Woooooo angst, apocalypse bullshit, but more importantly F!Leo and Casey Jr bondingggggg

[fabien-euskadi]

12, 23 and 30 for the soft questions thing :) (hope you're doing alright btw)

12. how are you?

Do you mind if my reply is brutally honest?

As we speak, I am feeling a mix of despair, sadness, melancholy, and hopelessness. Yes, it is probably my depression speaking. However, I am not depressed out of nowhere, there are very tangible reasons that explain what is happening with my mental health. Obviously, I have been much worse in the past (in 2020, suicide had become almost an inevitability), but I feel like I am walking on very thin ice - the slightest setback or the vaguest of criticisms takes biblical proportions.

Somehow, the fact that I will be back to my place (notice that I didn’t use the word “home”) gives me a sprinkle of hope, but I am perfectly aware that will not improve my mood dramatically. I needed a huge turnaround in my life, but, as the time passes by, I have no idea of what to do. Still, the simple fact that I will be in the right place to focus on the right things is a piece of good news.

23. Favourite piece of clothing?

To be brutally honest (once again), I have none. To make things worse, I have my clothes spread across three places (soon, it should be just two). But it has been quite some time since I bought something that I really loved with all my heart. I guess that is also a reflex of my state of mind.

30. what reminds you of home (doesn’t have to mean house… just things that remind you of the feeling of home)?

Would you fancy another moment of pure and raw honesty?

My whole life has been plagued by an enigma, a mystery I need to solve in order to achieve anything remotely similar to peace of mind. The truth is that there is not a single place where I can feel at home. It’s a fact that I own two places, and that I spend my time between them, but none of them feels like home - they are just places where I sleep and store my things. I did things by the book - I tried my best to make both of them feel like a home… but I failed miserably. That’s why I will sell both places in a near future and find a new one to live and fall in love with…  but the chances are that I fail again. None of the places where I lived felt like home – and that includes my mom’s place, a house where I really don’t feel like myself. All the cities, towns and villages where I lived/live feel like strange places to me - everywhere I am, I remain a stranger, a tourist, and outsider. I don’t even feel any region or country as my home – everywhere I am, I remain a foreigner, an immigrant, an expat.

Every single day, I try to search for a new place, a new town, a new life. Sometimes, I find it - but only in my dreams. Many of my dreams take place in houses and flats where I have never been - and some of them feel like home (at least, while I am sleeping).

I would love to know how it feels to feel at home. But I have no idea how home feels like. Maybe, many or most people feel exactly the same way – the difference is that they accept, they resign, and they conform themselves to whatever fate has thrown at them. Maybe, that is exactly what home feels like: acceptance, defeat.

Maybe home is no more than a place where one is free to love and be loved, just for the sake of loving and being loved. And that may be the reason why I feel homeless.

Any suggestions of what love may be?

(Sorry for the huge delay in the reply. And thank you for asking how I am – I honestly hope you are feeling really, really, really, really good)

[sopwritingoniline]

How to Write an SOP for Spain: A Simple Guide to Nail Your Application

So you want to study in Spain? That’s amazing! Spain is an incredible destination for students, offering world-class universities, rich culture, and a chance to explore a new lifestyle. But before you pack your bags and start dreaming of sunny days, there’s one important step you need to take: writing your Statement of Purpose (SOP) for your Spain student visa or university application.

This might sound daunting, but don’t worry. Writing an SOP doesn’t have to be complicated. Let me break it down for you with a simple guide that’ll make this process way easier!

What’s an SOP for Spain and Why Do You Need One?

In case you're wondering, the SOP for Spain is a personal essay where you explain why you want to study in Spain, why you’ve chosen a specific program and university, and how it aligns with your long-term career goals. It's a crucial part of your visa or university application and gives the people reviewing your application a sense of who you are and what you want to achieve.

Think of it as a story—your story—showing why you’re the perfect fit for this program and why Spain is the best place for you to achieve your dreams. Sounds cool, right?

How to Write a Killer SOP for Spain (Step by Step)

1. Start Strong with a Hook

You want to grab the reader’s attention from the first line. Start by introducing yourself and your academic background in a way that draws the reader in.

Example: “I’m [Your Name], and I’ve always been passionate about [Your Field]. After completing my degree in [Your Field] at [Your University], I’m excited to take the next step in my education by pursuing the [Program Name] at [University Name] in Spain.”

2. Why Spain?

This is your chance to talk about why you chose Spain. Maybe it’s the vibrant culture, the academic reputation, or the specific opportunities the country offers in your field. Whatever it is, make sure to explain why Spain is the perfect fit for you.

Example: “Spain’s rich academic history and global approach to education make it an ideal destination for my studies. The combination of world-class universities and the chance to immerse myself in Spanish culture is exactly what I need to broaden my horizons and gain a global perspective.”

3. Why This Program and University?

Now, get specific about the program you’re applying to and why you’ve chosen this particular university. This is the part where you show that you’ve done your homework and know exactly what the program offers.

Example: “The [Program Name] at [University Name] stood out to me because of its innovative approach to [specific aspect of the program]. The faculty’s expertise and the university’s focus on [special area] align perfectly with my career goals, and I’m excited to learn from the best in the field.”

4. Link to Your Career Goals

Tie everything together by showing how studying in Spain will help you achieve your long-term career goals. Whether you plan to work in Spain or return home, explain how this program will open doors for your future.

Example: “Studying in Spain will give me the skills and global perspective I need to excel in [specific industry]. After graduation, I plan to [your future career goal], and the knowledge I’ll gain from this program will be invaluable in helping me achieve this.”

5. Conclude with Enthusiasm and Confidence

Wrap up your SOP by expressing your excitement about studying in Spain and reaffirming your commitment to making the most of the opportunity.

Example: “I’m thrilled about the chance to study at [University Name] and immerse myself in the Spanish academic and cultural environment. I’m confident that this experience will help me grow both academically and professionally, and I’m ready to make the most of it.”

Need Help with Your SOP?

Writing a killer SOP for Spain can take time, but don’t worry—you don’t have to do it alone. If you need help refining your SOP or making sure it really stands out, SOP Writing Services can help you craft a unique and compelling statement that will grab the attention of admissions officers and visa officers alike.

Final Thoughts

Writing an SOP for Spain is your chance to show the world who you are and why you belong in Spain. By following this simple guide and sharing your genuine passion for studying abroad, you’ll be well on your way to submitting an SOP that truly stands out.

Good luck, and soon enough, you'll be living your dream of studying in Spain!

[inspectorseb]

Quick warning that this is EXTREMELY long lol.

Honestly the ndp have been pissing me off recently. Before I explain, fyi I do not have an affiliation with a specific party because my personal beliefs are too far left to perfectly align with any party. But I can tell you I would only vote either liberal or ndp. And before now i really struggled trying to decide which one to vote for in the next election, but after everything that has been happening recently I’m severely leaning towards the liberals, and that’s upsetting. I’m trying to figure out how to express everything without writing a book lol. I don’t know what exactly snapped and caused the ndp to switch up but literally none of what they’re doing makes sense on a political level, and honestly it feels like they’re trying to copy some of the conservative strategies (which will work in a ‘right’ environment but not in a ‘left’ one) and it’s just making them look terrible. First of all, the tearing up of the liberal agreement. There’s still a year before the next election, and while they weren’t happy that everything wasn’t going their way (which of course it wouldn’t, you’re only in an agreement you’re not the one in charge), they showed that they actually made progress. So why not use the agreement for at least a couple more months to get shit done for Canadians? Instead it just comes off as them throwing a tantrum (very conservative like). And while they say that the timing was a pure coincidence that they ended it right after the conservatives said they should, something which we’ll never know the validity of, it just makes it look like you’re bending to the conservatives. And the tearing up of the agreement is purely symbolic, because I know damn well you’re not gonna all of a sudden start voting with the pcs. So you’re basically putting strain on a relationship that is only going to get more important over the next year, and for what? The second thing, which I really consider my breaking point is the carbon tax. First of all if you’re still too stupid to understand that you actually don’t lose money from the carbon tax, because you get reimbursed by the government, then I don’t know what to tell you. It’s not hard to understand but apparently no one fucking gets it. And if you think it’s the reason why groceries and shit are so expensive, that’s just capitalism and living in a grocery monopoly, it has literally been proven that the carbon tax only increases the price of food by less than 1% (generally around 0.3). I could go on for a long time about the logistics of it but that’s not what this is about. Before what has happened in recent days, something that really pissed me off happened late last year when Trudeau agreed to pause the carbon tax on home heating oil in Atlantic provinces (where I’m from). While this doesn’t impact everyone, it was a rare win for the Atlantic. And just a note to everyone who said “oh he’s only doing this to try to keep his supporters because those are the only liberal provinces”. What’s your point? On a political level, that just makes sense. And also the only current liberal province in the entire country is Newfoundland (where I’m from), and Newfoundland is already very loyal to the liberals for many historical reasons that would take a long time to explain. Anyways, when the liberals announced this deal, all of a sudden the pcs and ndp teamed up to protest this plan because it was “unfair to everyone else”. In this situation i don’t care about everyone else because we never get anything, and no one cares about us. We usually only get mentioned when it’s convenient. But I digress, this plan actually makes sense considering that Atlantic Canada has WAY more oil heated homes (because they’re old) than the rest of the country. There’s 25% across the Atlantic, while there’s 6% for the other 6 provinces (which way more population) combined. But all of a sudden the two parties complained that it wasn’t fair that oil heating got a break but natural gas didn’t. Oil heating is still 4 times more expensive to use than natural gas, even if you include the tax break.

Also we literally can’t get natural gas so it’s not like it’s a choice. New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and PEI, have all banned fracking. And Newfoundland and PEI have absolutely zero natural gas heated homes. Basically, we have no pipelines for natural gas to be possible for heating. I remember this incident because it was obviously no surprise for the pcs to say it, but I was honestly surprised and upset that the ndp supported their movement. Quick note, I remember when this was happening that some news sources and politicians were saying how unfair it is because “we [the Atlantic provinces] get everything” and I pretty much lost my mind. Cause if you really think that you’re delusional and you know nothing.

Going back to the present, we have the ndp all of a sudden revoking their support for the carbon tax. A move in which Singh actually referenced the incident I just talked about saying how Trudeau apparently made it unfair by “favouring certain provinces and making working people pay the price instead of big polluters”. And while I very much agree with their point that the big polluters are the ones who should have to pay for climate action, it’s better that they’re doing something rather than nothing. Along with Singh they have the premier of BC, Eby, on board saying that they would end the carbon tax. He also said how this is all Trudeau’s fault for “politicizing” the carbon tax. What the actual fuck are you talking about? All taxes are political first off, economics and politics go hand in hand. And you’re really saying Trudeau is the one who politicized it instead of the opposition who hasn’t stopped bitching about it and has literally been running (an unconstitutional) political campaign based upon it?

The ndp has basically said that this is a move to try and gain back their blue collar support that has been swaying toward the pcs in the west. But it feels a little too late for that. And in my opinion, I don’t think this move is going to regain them the support that they think it will. No matter what your rhyme or reasons are, making this decision now just makes it look like you’re trying to ride on the coattails of the conservatives, which will never work. In reality, even with the ndp continuing to gain support every election, Canada is still a two party system and the ndp are not even close to being competition for prime minister for this election (or maybe even the next). So most people are still choosing between red or blue. And by doing this, it feels like you’re trying to tell people ‘hey the conservatives are right and the liberals are wrong, that’s why we’re all of a sudden siding with them and ditching the liberals’. Oh you’re ditching the carbon tax? Well the conservatives have wanted to do that forever. To me this move just really feels like they’re actually gonna drive people red or blue instead of orange. But I mean I could be wrong. If the ndp had done all this a while ago I think it might be a different story. But the timing of all this is absolutely terrible for them, whether it was actually a coincidence or not. And I think it’s also to do with the fact of the upcoming election in BC, and that the competition with the cons is actually gonna be a lot closer than they thought. And also the fact that federally, the pcs have been gaining traction in previous ndp stronghold areas, especially in Manitoba.

Not too long ago, the ndp was considered the party for leftists (even though they’re not even left, they’re just the most left), but it feels like they’re now trying to go for the centrist vote as well. Which means that it really feels like there’s been a bit of a change in identity and politics recently. And it really is upsetting to me.

[coffeewithastraww]

And she finally chose to love herself.

Sometimes I wish I could just disappear and nobody would remember me. I wish I never existed so nobody could miss me. I wish I could go under the covers and not be. I’m dramatic and depressed and jealous and hateful and quite honestly the worst version of myself. I haven’t worked in months, and I avoid reality in the worst ways possible. I won’t get into the details but it’s not healthy. Everybody has rough patches but what if you just have a rough life? My life is ugly as fuck and I try to romanticize it how I can but man it’s as simple as it sounds. I’m in love with my ex boyfriend who doesn’t give a fuck. I drown myself in the same alcohol that came home from the bar every night when I was a kid. I cry into my stupid pillow and wake up with a red puffy face and put on my cheap makeup and hide behind my idiotic humor while everyone laughs and I go home and hate myself.

When does it end? When will I become someone I’m proud of? When will I take the initiative to get up and go to work and get my license and pay bills and make life easier for myself so I can be happy again? I know the motions. I know the steps. I have goals. I know how to achieve them. But I stop myself every time because this empty feeling swallows me whole.

I hold onto the emotions I’ve built around not being able to let you go and I’ve lost myself. But to be honest with you how do I know if I was ever found? I don’t know as if I’ve ever known myself and that’s so dramatic but is it true? Who the fuck is Alesha Jorges? I like books about love because it makes me feel like the hurt and anger in this world doesn’t exist. I like things that make me forget sometimes I feel like the saddest person in the world. I like writing and being able to express my thoughts straight from my head to whoever chooses to read it. I like fluffy animals, Kurt Cobain, Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow’s voice coinciding together like melted butter on a pancake, I like when it snows and it’s so quiet you feel like your the last person on earth, I like thick sweatshirts, four wheelers, singing in the shower to Olivia O’Brien, saying things that are brutally honest even though I know people are judging me because it separates me from everyone else. I like guitar solos that make you close your eyes and feel like your there with them focusing so hard on the frets, I like when cats chase their tails, candles that smell like cashmere, and I don’t even know what the fuck cashmere is? Is it a nut? Is it a cloth? Who cares. I like going super fast in a car and smoking a cigarette on 39 looking at all the houses I’m familiar with. I like finding expensive shoes for cheap, walking in the woods during the day, pulling back my bow and hitting the target perfectly, sitting on a tailgate with country music so loud you can’t hear anyone talking, music that makes you get goosebumps, hearing the smile in peoples voices when they talk about something they love, I like to draw, I like being in the kitchen, I like how I feel when I’m nervous around a boy, I like telling people my whole life story, over explaining myself, crying at movies, too many pillows on my bed, expensive makeup, when it’s raining and not storming so you can perfectly hear the rain hitting the roof, comedy specials and especially dark humor, I like having a coffee at target and being alone, and most importantly. I want to love my life again.

And I want to love my life again while being completely alone and I know I can because I have the ability to give myself everything I’ve ever wanted.

Depression sits in front of me and it feels like it will never move long enough for me to see that.

I hate everything I’ve made my life out to be because I let myself go the second it sits there again.

I forget that I can work alongside the pain that’s raised me, the hurt that’s weaseled its way into my life, the heartbreak that you created, and the heartbreak that I can’t get over.

Just because you break your own heart doesn’t mean you can’t fix it.

And today I look in the mirror and I feel like I’m going to be okay.

Climb the ladder and eventually you’ll be so high the things that hurt you can’t even reach you anymore

[lunarasphodel]

OH!

HELL YES. I’ve been waiting to talk about this thank you so much for giving me the opportunity!! <- said with the vibrant enthusiasm of a thousand suns

So, when I said this would be an essay I Meant it- here we go!!

 I’ll get into why I love the phrase so much in a minute, but for now imma explain where in the game it comes from and why it's significant (in my heart). The phrase “stars, stars, stars,” comes from Isabeau’s friendquest, unlocked in act 3, when he goes stargazing with Siffrin! The dialogue initially (in act 3) is “Stars, stars, stars, all around you. You inhale sharply.” and then, in act 4 it becomes “Stars, stars, stars, all around you. You want to crush them all.” The change being reflective of Siffrin’s ✨emotional/mental deterioration✨, as well as how he essentially feels… abandoned. By his faith, his home, and the life he knows but can’t remember. I’ll get into this more in a minute!

Part of the reason that I love the phrase itself is because of the repetition, I tend to really like sets of threes (as the human brain is inclined), and space is one of my special interests so I just find the word “stars” to be very aesthetically pleasing. One of the deeper reasons is that Isabeau’s friendquest was my first interaction with In Stars and Time, because the friend who recommended the game to me let me play it on her Switch! The scene as a whole has a special place in my heart just because it was my first impression of a game and characters that mean a lot to me as it is! (Isabeau specifically, I adore him!!)

Now that we've been over why I like the phrase, let's go over why I think it's textually significant! First we have to go over Siffrin and the Forgotten Country. So, we know a few important things about the Forgotten Country and its culture. I’m gonna bullet point these so it makes more sense:

-Wish Craft was popular/commonly used enough that the proper rituals were taught to children.

-Siffrin says, in the secret library, that an important part of the ritual is to repeat the wish three times, but it doesn’t have to be three, it should be however many times feels right. All this to say, repetition is important to Wish Craft rituals, and the faith as a whole.

-Another important aspect to the Forgotten Country’s faith is the Universe and the stars. 

For example, the orrery, the star charts, the fact that “stars” is a swear word (which indicates religious significance, such as how Odile says “Gems” or how people under Christianity will use “Jesus Christ” as a swear).

So while we don’t learn much about the Forgotten  Country, there is a lot that we can infer from Siffrin as a character. One of the things that stuck out to me most is their frequent use of repetition. They tend to do things in threes quite often, and I think they also sometimes use sets of five as well (because of their party/family having five members). I don’t have evidence for the latter, but the former is evident every time Siffrin interacts with Dormont's Change God Statue to get a blessing, and when they sharpen the keyknife (notably, Siffrin says “please be sharp” three times, and then Isabeau, Mirabelle, and Bonnie mimic him, making the phrase said 6x). Point being, Siffrin repeats things often, and most commonly does so in sets of three. Not just in happy moments, he also does the whole self deprecation thing and calls himself “stupid, stupid, stupid” in various points throughout the game. However, he never does this flippantly, only when there’s emotion behind his words, which indicates that there are definitely some strong emotions behind when he says it during Isa’s friend quest! Which- I mean of course there would be! He’s desperate to be seen, loved, wanted. And Isabeau does this in a way that ties in something that inherently means a lot to them! In this case it seems perfectly logical that, when looking up to the stars, Siffrin would repeat the name of what is essentially their saint.

In regards to the Act 4 addition of “you want to crush them all,” I just love that this simple line expresses so much. For example, Siffrin knows that their home faith is the Universe, the stars, but he can’t remember learning this. He can’t remember his home, but he can see the stars and the Universe and even the island. All around them is evidence that it existed, even if it’s just in the form of a splitting headache or a sore throat. Also, and I could be wrong here because the lines between acts sometimes blur together for me, Act 4 is where Siffrin begins to learn. Everything from Wish Craft, to his language, to details of rituals that they didn’t even know were foreign. All the while, Siffrin is forgetting parts of the new life he’s made, no doubt leading him to feel like he’s trading one for another. To Siffrin, it feels like they’re giving up important memories to the Universe, in order to regain something that was stolen from them. And it’s cruel, it is, for the Universe to do this to them. It’s plain as day that Siffrin deals with a lot, especially in act 4, because that’s… the whole idea of the game, isn’t it? So he has to deal with the secrets, the repetition, the ugly feelings of wanting but being unable to ask. All the while, the Universe looks on and laughs- at least that’s how Siffrin sees it. 

Overall it’s a beautiful representation of three things: Siffrin’s faith and rituals, his feelings toward Isa and... his whole situation, and their speech patterns as a whole. Isn’t it cool that so much can be inferred from so little?? 

also I have a tiny aside that I wanted to include but couldn't find a spot for: Humans naturally LOVE threes! They’re Everywhere!! Especially in fairytales, religion, and art. There’s something called a triptych, which is a set of three art pieces in conversation to one another that are displayed next to each other. All in all, threes are like crack to the human psyche <33

Anyways THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME RAMBLE ON ABOUT THIS!! I’ve been thinking about it for a while now and I hope it makes sense because I’m so excited to put the thoughts down that it very well could be incomprehensible :3

Has anyone prompted you yet

https://www.tumblr.com/delusional-cryptid/756805408476348416/more-collage-content-he-deserves-joy-methinks?source=share

- @siffwinning

:O!! Hi!! And No, not yet!! I’m not sure what you mean tho, could you elaborate mayhaps? (/genuine)

[offda-rails-art]

Here it is! Hope you like Red ;) because this story is all about him. Also I’m not illustrating writing anymore it’s too much with how much dialogue I want to shove in there.

Old Red has done many years of service to the railway of Hennessy. As you could imagine the feisty old soul had built up a reputation of being a fierce and nasty engine who feared no man or beast. With this reputation, Old Red was given dangerous tasks to do. These tasks would be traveling to the outskirts of Hennessy (no mans land) where all kinds of outlaws roamed and robbed just about any living thing they came across. However any outlaw knew to not mess with Red, or they’d meet a terrible end. Old Red would bring important cargo across no mans land with ease. He’d carry precious and expensive valuables, and no outlaw would dare try and steal anything from his cars. A few tried but would always end up unlucky.

Something unexpected happened one day on the job for Old Red, as the engine puffed down the tracks and into no mans land a big new group of outlaws came charging up from a ditch nearby the tracks. Guns blazing, spurs jingling, and hollering left and right they caught right up to the big red engine. Old Red snorted and got ready to put up a good fight.

Old Red billowed out thick black smoke, he snarled and bared what was left of his sharp crooked teeth. His loud bell and whistle shrieked and rang horribly. Suddenly he gasped, he got short of steam and his whistle cut out. Old Red felt himself lock up almost instantly. A woman on a big white horse kept up right next to him. She stood up in her saddle while her pony galloped along, her gun pointed right at him she meant business. But he didn’t stop because of that, he stopped because he was absolutely taken away by her. This had to be the most beautiful regal woman he had ever laid his eyes on. He needed a closer look at her. Before he knew it while he had stopped to gawk at this lady, the outlaws had already broken into his cargo and raided just about what they could fit in their pockets and saddle bags. That was the first time Red had been robbed.

That night when Old Red crept back to the roundhouse everyone of course was surprised about what had happened to the ornery engine. Cracker Jack had overheard Red’s engineer explain what he thought had happened. The engineer spoke to Cracker Jack’s and a group of other men. They all found it odd that Red stopped so suddenly and acted so differently. As soon as Cracker Jack heard the mention of a female outlaw riding up along next to the ornery old engine he smirked. The little diesel teased Red to no end all night. Cracker Jack laughed and made kissy faces to Red, “I bet you’d like that! How funny! Old Reddie gawking at a pretty girl! The big old engines gone soft! For a human at that!” He sneered. Red huffed his cheeks blushed.

“You best sleep with one eye open tonight! No one interests me! Certainly not a no good criminal!” Red huffed but his face only glowed brighter with embarrassment. Cracker Jack laughed and laughed and didn’t stop with his teasing until morning.

A few weeks later it happened again. The same outlaw group caught up with Old Red when he carried expensive cargo across no mans land. The group seemed to notice that the big red devil took a liking to a certain group member. They sent their lady up and sure enough Red stopped immediately. This time she stayed there with him. Old Red looked closer at her and his face went as bright as his paint work. “Hello iron hoss” the lady smiled seeing him looking at her bashfully. Red couldn’t find words he stuttered but finally managed to get out,

“What’s... er... what’s your name?” He stuttered.

“I don’t tell anyone that, but because you’ve been such a peach I guess I’ll tell ya. It’s Faline.” She grinned seeing his one good eye glow. Old Red tripped over his words again trying to tell her it was such a beautiful name for a gorgeous woman. She laughed “oh your a real charmer iron hoss.” She blew him a kiss before galloping off with her band of fellow outlaws. Once again Red was robbed. But he could care less, he nearly fell on his side after she had blown him a kiss.

Weeks had passed and Red made more trips into no mans land, each time he anticipated seeing Faline but unfortunately he didn’t. He grew a bit depressed and his heart sank when he looked over to a field to see what he thought was her horse grazing by itself. Word had gotten around that a few outlaws from the band that stole from him had been caught and jailed. Old Reds engineer had told him the good news but Red didn’t find it good at all. The old engine stayed quiet most of the time and didn’t show off his ornery attitude. One night as if by a miracle, Old Red had to wait at one of Hennessy’s main stations. Red never went that way and didn’t usually stop at passenger stations anyways. It was late and night and hardly anyone was around, only a few passengers waited for their night train to arrive. Old Red watched curiously as a fancily dressed passenger approached him. He went red realizing who it was. She laughed “I didn’t forget about you iron hoss, you’ve been a real doll. I joined those men because I needed money and had no way of getting it. I know it’s wrong to rob and take but my family has no other way of getting the money. Because of you, my two sick boys can get what they need and I can’t thank you enough.” She leaned in and kissed his blushing cheeks, before hurrying away as her train arrived. Old Red sighed watching her disappear. She was certainly someone he’d never forget.

End.

[sluttywonwoo]

me and my friends were discussing how each member would react to the dating best friend's sister trope and we came to conclusion that jeonghan would mostly be like "had dinner at wonwoo's parents house last night. his sister tasted great 😁" in front of everyone.

oh wonwoo would tackle jeonghan to the floor in the blink of an eye- but more on that later

*also wanna say that this is imagining a nonexistent sister bc some of the members don’t actually have a sister and some of the member’s sisters are minors so we’re winging it…

seungcheol: “hey, jihoon did you see your sister today? can she walk alright? 😏” omfg cheol would be getting jumped

jeonghan: see the above ask ^ wonwoo wouldn’t hesitate to sock jeonghan right in the face. he’d literally be furious and someone would have to hold him back from beating jeonghan’s ass

joshua: “soonyoung, is your sister a dancer? she’s really flexible” soonyoung would take a second to process and then proceed to slap his friend across the face

jun: “ah! joshua! the fuck are you doing in your sister’s room- what am i doing in your sister’s room? um… i can explain…” joshua wouldn’t talk to jun for two whole weeks even if what he walked in on was perfectly innocent

soonyoung: “i’d tell you about where i was last night, but i don’t think you want to hear those things about your sister, seungkwan” soonyoung’s funeral would be the next day

wonwoo: “no, your sister didn’t sleep over in my room, mingyu. her clothes are on the floor because i, uh, borrowed them?” tbh mingyu would probably believe his best friend just because his brain won’t let him consider the alternative possibilities

jihoon: “jeonghan, do you think i’d actually tell you if there was something going on between your sister and i? please, i don’t kiss and tell.” jihoon’s recording equipment would mysteriously go missing in the following week…

seokmin: “did your sister get her voice back, jun? how did i know she lost it? errrr…” jun would officially disinvite seokmin from coming home with him to china. in fact he’d tell him that he was banned from the entire country

mingyu: “seungcheol’s sister isn’t dating anyone. we’re just hooking up, that doesn’t count as dating… wait i mean-” the room would obviously be full of witnesses, but they’d all turn a blind eye to the attack that’d be about to happen bc they’re just as scared of cheol as mingyu is

minghao: “oh i gave her more than a hickey, seokmin, but don’t worry i’ll take very good care of her” seokmin would see red, unable to believe he was hearing something so dirty come from minghao of all people and about his sister!! minghao would need to sleep with one eye open

seungkwan: “chan, how does your sister like her coffee in the morning? i want to make sure she has enough energy tomorrow because we won’t be getting any sleep tonight 😎” pls chan’s been waiting to beat seungkwan up and this would be the perfect opportunity

vernon: “oh i didn’t even know your sister had a charm bracelet exactly like that, minghao… yeah that’s weird i have no idea how it got in my car…” minghao would absolutely start a fight and give him the silent treatment until vernon fessed up about what was going on between him and his sister skdjdh

chan: “sorry i’m late, vernon’s sister kept me up all night. no, not like that!” but it’d be too late everyone would already be clowning vernon, who would be staring the maknae down with a glare that warned chan to watch himself