#if there are three skittles left of each of six colors

[tchellig]

As a kid, I had the same fixation on symmetry and equality, but it expressed itself differently: I would mash foods together so that I was getting the same fraction of each one left on my plate with every bite.

Nowadays, when it comes to m&m and skittles and the like, I don't look at the colors while I eat my handfuls of them -- not because they've stopped mattering to me, but because by not observing the colors, I'm eating statistically uniform handfuls: on average, I'm eating every color the same amount at the same rate.

Getting older has only made my weird little fixations harder to notice, not weaker.

baby me, sorting m&ms by color and then into a gradient: now this is how you have fun!

[kaibacorpintern]

Does Kaiba prefer skittles or m&ms? 😂

I'm an equal opportunity candy gal myself. I think regardless of the king size bag he buys from the KaibaCorp vending machine, Kaiba eats five Skittles (one of each color) or six M&M's (one of each color) at a time until there's an imbalance of colors, and then he switches to multiples of three (three greens, three reds, three yellows) until that's impossible and he is forced to switch to pairs (two oranges, two browns) until there's a handful left that isn't easily reduced. then he presses one color candy orb against another between his fingertips, and whatever squishes or cracks first is the weak loser color, and he pitches the stronger winner color against a new contender until he's determined the strongest of the remaining candy orbs (eating the weaker losers along the way). Then he eats that one too.

[knjoodles]

learn to love; jungkook | 01

pairing: teacher!jungkook x singleparent!reader

genre: fluff, angst 

word count: 3K

summary: raising your daughter alone while simultaneously watching your ex-husband live the life of his dreams away from the two of you hurts. badly. it hurts a little less, though, when you find an unlikely friend while looking for help.

lowercase intended

02 | 03 | 04

   “seyoung, please,”  

   being a single mother at this time in your daughter’s life? it wasn’t the best, so to speak.

  to your beautiful seven-year-old seyoung, the local supermarket was a treasure trove of goodies and tasty treats she could barely keep her hands away from. you darted your head in either direction of the breakfast aisle, following the sound of the patter of steps running away from you, just to spot seyoung slipping behind a tower of canned corn and into an ambiguous section of the store. “seyoung!” you gasped, dashing in the direction she went. catching your breath, you found her sitting in the middle of the candy aisle, toying with a bag of skittles and trying to use her small, short nails to tear open the wrapping.  

   “can you stay near me, baby? please?” you walked towards her slowly, placing your shopping basket on the floor and kneeling to meet her gaze. your mouth twitched into a smile as she shook her head in a pout, shoving the bag of candy against the floor in another attempt to open it. you reach your hand to take it from her hands when she pulls the bag towards her again, clutching it to her chest stubbornly.

   “mommy, i want this one!” she whined quietly, kicking her legs and fiddling with the corner of the bag. as you opened your mouth to say no, you realized you couldn’t remember the last time you’d bought something for her. it’s not that raising her alone was extremely difficult — your music producing career had taken off when she’d turned four and you finally had enough money to sustain the two of you — it’s that you were unable to give her the attention and benefits she needed as a child. money that was supposed to be spent on things like an abundance of toys, bags filled with vegetables and spices to make a delicious dinner, adorable slip-ons to match her favorite dress, were all spent on paying for bills, an occasional nanny, and her private school. you weren’t begging for help, but it would be nice.

   “alright,” you sighed, the excitement of getting candy shining through her doll-like eyes. “i’ll buy you the candy, but can you promise mommy you won’t run away like that anymore?” she happily placed the bag in your hand with the guarantee of sweets, letting you drop it into your basket. looking back at her to make sure she understands, you raised your eyebrow, prompting her to nod slowly and rise from the market floor. as the two of you made your way to the cashier, she grasped your pinky, doing what she could to hold your hand. after loading all of your groceries in the back of your car, you drove her to her friend, ailee, so they could spend the rest of the warm, welcoming sunday afternoon together. before you left, she gripped your hands as tight as she could and promised you that she’d be back soon. because she knew how much mommy will miss her.

   you savored her kind words as you slipped into your car once more, running your hands over the comforting leather stitch of the wheel before pressing the gas and driving home. on your way home, you noticed your phone sitting in the cupholder vibrating as someone called you. waiting until you reached a red light, you answered the phone quickly, paying no attention to the caller id — you get random phone calls from other producers about artists you’d be working with in the future, it was something you’d gotten used to by now.

   “hey.” a deep, masculine voice mumbled on the other side of the line. you recognized it instantly.

it was your ex-husband.

   “hi, hoseok. is there something you need?” you asked, a hint of annoyance in your voice. hearing him again after three months was surreal; it reminded you of everything that’d happened with him.  

   “yeah, i was wondering if we could, uh, visit seyoung.” he muttered, obviously tense from your tone.

we. he said we.  

the word we, without you, was the reason why you’d left him.

you found them. that’s all you’d allow yourself to think about regarding him. if you let yourself go further, you may break down in the middle of the freeway.

   “ah, you mean you and yebin? of course. seyoung’s not home right now, but you guys can come and visit her at any other time.” you replied, savoring the fact you’d planned a playdate for her. hoseok and yebin were the last people you wanted to see at the moment.

  you weren't angry that he’d continued with his mistress after the two of you divorced;  you weren’t the jealous type, and frankly, you didn’t want to be with someone who threw away years of love and support for a woman who he’d known for less than six months. you missed your other half, you missed that comforting back hug after a long day at work and the affectionate ear nibbles while cuddling together. you missed the intimate moments, you missed having someone else in the house. you missed having emotional support, as well as a financial one. while hoseok seemingly frolicked with his younger, sexy girlfriend, you were in the studio all day to make sure your daughter has what she needs to have a healthy childhood without a father. and you weren’t even sure if you were doing it right.

   the idea of divorce will never be something a child can digest completely without having questions. hell, it’s not even something an adult can handle without asking questions. seyoung would often wonder out loud about why daddy was hanging out with a second mommy and why the two of you didn’t live with daddy anymore; why the two of you had to downsize and move away. embarrassingly enough, your daughter told her friends about how her parents live in separate houses, thinking it was impressive that she had two houses.  

   “great. yebin’s really been eager to see seyoung again. i think the two of them are really getting along nicely.” hoseok explained, making things worse in an attempt to break the ice.  

   “that’s great. i'm glad seyoung’s taking a liking to yebin.” oh, how you wanted to hiss that you hoped she wouldn’t replace you with yebin the way he did.  

   “you know, you’re reacting to this better than i thought you would,” he replied. bad move.

   “i don’t know how you want me to react, hoseok. maybe, it’s because i haven’t heard from you in three months.” you spat, angry that he even dared to say something like that. what did he mean? did he think you’d welcome yebin, his mistress, the woman he cheated on you with, with open arms? did he think you’d take a liking to yebin the way seyoung did? unfortunately, that’s not how infidels get treated. you two were a team, he randomly got up and joined the opposition, leaving you alone to play the game of life by yourself.

   “you’re right,” he admitted. “i should’ve called or text, but you know how my job is and—“

   “i'm sure if you had enough time to go clubbing with yebin you have enough time to spend two hours with your daughter. hoseok, i will support you in almost everything, but you need to be a part of seyoung's life — and seeing her once in a blue moon won’t leave a lasting memory of you in her childhood.”

he sighed. you could imagine him habitually rubbing his eyes with one hand before running it over his hair; he shakes his head when he doesn’t have anything left to say.  the muffled sound of a woman voice sounded from the other line, making you roll your eyes.  

   “i get what you’re saying. i... i need to go right now, but i promise we’ll come and see you guys soon. bye.” he completely shook off your conversation and it made you angry. how could he disregard something so important?

   “of course you do.” you muttered bitterly before the line went dead. fortunately for you, you’d just returned home, allowing you to frantically throw your groceries on the kitchen island and drown yourself in what sorrow he caused you.

   it had started off like a dream. the two of you had met in your third year of college, him a business and economics major and you a music production major with a minor in audio and sound engineering. you’d bumped into each other at a banal frat party — one neither of you really wanted to be at. he began boasting about his dog back at home, making you erupt in giggles and inch closer and closer towards him as the night grew older. the two of you eventually left the crowded house together, not going to someone’s place, but rather to a local noodle bar, the midnight empty tables and sentient music a great transition from the pounding music and lack of personal space of the party. he joked about how he was never amazing at talking to people, especially women, so he was surprised that you managed to stick around with him for this long — a new record, to quote him directly. his warm aura kept you snug from the cold night, and he eventually took you home, dropping you safely to your apartment. after that night was over, you began to notice him more and more on campus, like a bright color in a mellow painting.

   one day, out of the blue, he drunkenly confessed his feelings for you. ironically enough, the same people had hosted a party in the same frat house a year later. with his intoxicated body pressed up the wall next to you and the thought that you were someone else, he moaned about how much he likes you but you never seem to pick up on his advances. the days following sprouted conversation after conversation regarding relationships, and eventually, the two of you decided to date. you felt as if you were on the top of the world, as if there was nothing stopping you anymore. after you graduated, the two of you rented an apartment together and entered the job market, taking steps together. and, three years later, you asked him to marry you. right in the middle of pasta night, while you were watching the little mermaid together.

   he named seyoung. you can remember exactly when the two of you decided on her name; when you first held seyoung in your arms and the two of you gently admired her perfection. he kissed behind your ear and whispered, “seyoung. eternal.”

   the three of you were like the three musketeers, and life was a never-ending spiral of fun. you were happy, so happy that you were afraid it would go away. it was perfect: you’d wake up to your loving husband snoring softly beside you with your baby girl giggling happily in her crib, watching the spinning sheep on her crib mobile with glee. every single day, the same cycle, but somehow, your family taught you a new feeling of happiness each day.

   you hate this part. of course, all good things come to an end. they have to, because the bad is what reminds you how lucky you are to have the good. you’d thought life was great. seyoung was a very likable toddler according to her preschool teachers, hoseok had recently gotten a promotion, and your career finally felt like it was going somewhere. you’d recently been hired at bighit, working for their new group, txt.  

   it was around twelve in the morning. you’d gotten home late because your team had finished mapped txt’s first mini-album, the dream chapter: star. pulling your coat closer to your frame as you stepped towards your door, you prayed hoseok had put seyoung to sleep. you’d told him that you’d be coming home as late as three in the morning, not knowing exactly how long it would take to decide how many songs would make it onto the album, as some potential songs were songs meant for other groups that were eventually scrapped.  

   you entered quietly, the door creaking at your attempt to open it silently. you weren’t very observant of your surroundings; truthfully, you just wanted to kiss your baby’s forehead and collapse into your bed. kicking off your shoes, you placed your bag on the coffee table, sighing before trudging towards your shared bedroom. it hit you like bricks — you weren’t paying attention to any noises, you weren’t living a cliché romance movie scene, it was completely unexpected. when you pushed open your bedroom door, a nude woman, lean and visibly younger, was rolling her hips on top of your husband’s bare form. it had taken a second to even register: what’s going on? who is she? am i dreaming? yet your silent thoughts were proven wrong as her head turned in fear to see you standing there, silhouette in the doorframe. she swung her leg over hoseok, pulling on the covers as her body fell next to him on the bed. 

  that was your spot.

  hoseok sat up, eyes wide with fear. “(y/n)… i… this-” he scrambled, thousands of excuses flying through his mind as to why he was just caught hooking up with his assistant. someone you, for one, trusted.

   you, like him, were at a loss for words. your soul felt as though someone had ripped it from your chest and slammed it to the ground, trampling on it bitterly. you turned your head, seeing your baby girl sleeping soundly in her crib. one thing remained stable while your entire world came crashing down onto you, and it was her breathing, chest rising and falling rhythmically, eyes fluttering.

  you nearly slammed the door in fury, turning and sliding down against it, trying to catch your breath. you’d never faced this type of pain before, you didn’t know what to do. there was so much to lose and so little to gain.

   your mother had always taught you to not take any shit from anyone, especially not a man. you tuned out the begs and pleads and cries for you to stay with him and stood your ground on a divorce. ‘it won’t happen again’ has proven itself to be a white lie time and time again. you’d gained custody of your child, and hoseok gained all of the freedom the world could allow. it was as if he was young again.

   it’s not that life was all bad for you after the divorce; crown, the song you’d mainly produced with the help of others became a huge hit in korea, festering hundreds of millions of views and charting #1s worldwide. your company credited you along with a couple other coworkers as the reason for txt’s success in the west. and, as txt continued to grow in popularity, so did your paycheck. you were a wildly successful single mom, fearless on the outside, getting there on the inside.

   fast forward to now: you, single mother, barely getting by mentally, struggling with things your daughter is too young to understand. your husband, living a carefree life with his young mistress, the only connection between him and his ex-wife being his child support fund. you didn’t envy him, but you envied his happiness.

trying to kill time, a piece of toast hanging from your mouth, you opened your laptop, an email from seyoung’s teacher popping into your inbox. it read,  

“ hello parents of wonderful third graders! welcome to (or welcome back to) yooseong elementary!

               my name is mr. jeon jungkook, and i have the great honor of having your kids this year. i know that the school year has only recently started, but i’d love to get to know all of you soon! attached to this email are my parent hours along with the introduction handout i gave my students on friday, just in case any of your little stars misplaced it or haven’t shown it to you yet. i’d like for you to sign it and have your child turn it in on monday to ensure that we’re all on the same page! i hope all of you are just as excited for your child’s school year as i am.

               again, if any of you need to contact me for any reason, please shoot me an email at this address! i’ll respond as soon as i can.

thank you,

mr. jeon ”

   his enthusiasm made you smile. nothing comes before seyoung’s happiness, and if seyoung has a teacher which loves his job as much as you love her, that’s all the satisfaction you need. you’re glad, and somewhat relieved, that when you’re not around, seyoung is in great hands.

   quickly writing him back and thanking him for sending the handout seyoung has yet to show you, you closed the tab, scrolling through a news article about txt’s unfinished success story, refreshing your mind on what you already knew about the boys, and chuckling at what facts they got wrong. as you continued to read through the article, an advertisement on the sidebar caught your eye. now, normally, you’re not one to pay attention to them. you’re more of the type to frown at them and spam-click the ‘x’ in the corner until it eventually vanishes. this one was different.

   an advertisement for a singles support group, offering a place for your voice to be heard, and, well, support.

   you hesitated, wondering if you’d be paired with a group of adults with more emotional issues than time per session. reminding yourself of how hoseok’s actions combined with the consistent stress of your job and raising seyoung threatens your sanity on a day to day basis, you put that voice on mute, and promptly clicked away, this time clicking on the ad instead of the ‘x’.

   after all, anything for seyoung.

[jungnoir]

Can I please request this prompt “Hi, I saw on your dating profile that the only criteria you judge potential suitors on is whether they’re a dog or cat person…?” additionally, “You’re pretty cute so I’ll give you a pass if you pick the wrong answer.” with Seokmin because he just loves dogs!!! So Much!!!

the barkchelor;

lee seokmin | “Hi, I saw on your dating profile that the only criteria you judge potential suitors on is whether they’re a dog or cat person…?” additionally, “You’re pretty cute so I’ll give you a pass if you pick the wrong answer.” | 1.8k words. | fluff, humor.

a/n: to celebrate the oh my! comeback, here’s a lil something sweet I’ve been saving! and yeah. I stole the title from a try guys video.

You didn’t consider yourself particularly “bad at dating” (could you do so without being biased? …well…). However, it became pretty clear when all the possible suitors at your job were a bust and finding someone on the weekends ended with a very superficial goal in mind that love was just…. incredibly evasive. And only for you, it seemed.

You were at a place in your life where you felt stable in everything; in fact, the only thing you could think of that was missing in your life was someone special. You liked being single because it was freeing, but you couldn’t help but long for someone’s hand in yours when you’d take a stroll on the town, couldn’t help but imagine someone’s arms wrapping around your waist while you prepared a semi-edible dinner, couldn’t help but lay awake in bed sometimes and think about how much you’d love to have someone curled up against your back fast asleep.

So, after a few drinks and a marathon of rom-coms to leave you more than a little romance-horny, you turned to a dating app.

You weren’t going to lie, the first week on there was hell.

Every single person you wanted to match with either didn’t match with you or turned out to be extremely gross when it came down to the actual “getting to know each other” part. You would dedicate at least a small part of your day to looking through profiles like your friends had recommended, but if anything, your success in finding someone even slightly your type went further down.

But, like all things, the best part can come when you least expect it. For you, it was right before you were going to delete your profile.

Most of the people you saw on here were usually mean-mugging the camera or posing far too stiffly to be realistic, so when you were met with a photo of a chocolate poodle staring right at you, big dark eyes practically begging for you to swipe right, you were puzzled. It was currently midnight, you were struggling to keep your eyes open, and you may have possibly found the best suitor on this entire app… and he wasn’t even human. Underneath the poodle’s picture was the name “Seokmin” followed by his age, “21″.

It was only when you started to click through the other pictures provided that you realized that the poodle was not Seokmin (as a much more sober and well-rested mind would have told you). “Seokmin” turned out to be a guy with a smile that lit up your phone screen and stilled you in your tracks. Dark colored hair laid neatly on top of his head, parted to the side to nicely frame his face. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a large dog laid across his lap looking like it was having the time of its life, and if you could tell anything by the faint pink lines running down the insides of his arm, that big dog must’ve been a handful. The same poodle that had caught your eye in the beginning was seated next to him in the photo, licking at one of the scratches that it might’ve had some help in causing.

Out of the six pictures he provided, only one of them was without any four-legged companions swarming him, and most of the ones that did have pups in them featured the same chocolate poodle somewhere in the background.

Eyes drifting down to his bio, you were dumbstruck again. He didn’t mention any hobbies, didn’t include a witty joke like most guys on the site, or list any of the things he was looking for in a partner except one.

Dog or cat person? Choose wisely.

You blink at the short and incredibly cryptic bio, your forehead wrinkling while your brain brims with confusion… and curiosity.

Hell. What could you lose?

Swiping right, you blink when you realize that the two of you have matched. You see the option to contact him. You know in your mind (somewhere) that you should save doing such a thing for later, but… it was midnight and you didn’t have anywhere near the patience to wait that long.

By the time you’re actually in his messages, your mind is on auto-pilot. You have a plan to send him something quickly and head to bed, probably to wake much later and delete the app when you find that even this cute but slightly strange guy is somehow, someway, a weirdo. You had long since abandoned your bad pick-up lines and jokes, the excitement and hope to find someone having died down exponentially by the time seven days had gone by. Besides, the guy had given you something to start with.

You sent:

hi, I saw on your dating profile that the only criteria you judge potential suitors on is whether they’re a dog or cat person…?

You stare at your message with the very last bit of energy you have, checking for any spelling or grammatical errors, but there is nothing to really worry about. That, or maybe you’re too tired to be able to tell. Whatever it might be, you can set your phone down and let yourself succumb to the warm caresses of sleep with ease.

Until you wake two and a half hours later, your phone vibrating against the back of your skull mercilessly.

You blearily look around the darkness of your room, thankful that it’s at least a Saturday and that you don’t have work in three and a half hours, because otherwise you might have pelted your phone across the room in annoyance.

Carefully fishing the offending device from behind your head, you hold the brightly shining phone away from your face a few inches as to not blind yourself. You realize that you hadn’t hooked it up to the charger, a habit of yours that came only when sleep captured you before you could think to do so. You try to think of the last thing you’d done to be awoken like this. That is, until you see three new messages on your screen from the dating app you were supposed to delete earlier.

Seokmin sent:

That is correct! Sorry for the late reply, I just got home from my friend’s place.

You’re pretty cute so I’ll give you a pass if you pick the wrong answer.

:)

Were you… was he serious right now?

You push yourself up from the sheets of your bed, flipping on your lamplight to stare at the texts more closely. Sure enough, he definitely really sent you those.

A small, disbelieving laugh leaves your mouth as you think of what to say. There isn’t much to him in your mind yet. He’s a cute guy, he apparently thinks you’re cute, he seems to know a lot of dogs, and… well, that’s it. If he wasn’t so handsome and you hated dogs, you would have definitely swiped left, no questions asked.

Also, what was up with “wrong answer”?

You sent:

there’s a wrong answer? sounds pretty biased

also, it’s pretty clear which answer is correct given your affinity for the canine population

Seokmin sent:

Welllll, the question is are ~you~ a dog or cat person, not me.

Don’t mind my preference :)

You couldn’t quite fathom why you bothering to have this conversation, especially seeing as it was 2:36 a.m. for the both of you and you were as in your right mind as a rubber duck right now… that didn’t even make sense, you were so not in your right mind right now. But hey, did that stop you?

You sent:

alright, I’ll play

dog person. and this is a completely honest answer, by the way

Seokmin sent:

Could I humbly request a photo of a dog you’ve met? It would be even better if you were in the photo

You sent:

you do realize how weird you sound, right

Seokmin sent:

Hey, you’re a stranger. How do I know you’re not just lying about being a dog person to get me to like you?

You sent:

weren’t you the one who liked my profile first?

Seokmin sent:

…you have a point

So no pup photo then?

You sent:

(image.jpg)

the pup in my lap is named skittles and he’s my friend’s dog who i’ve been strategically trying to kidnap for three months

Seokmin sent:

Adorable

You sent:

ikr? he’s the sweetest

Seokmin sent:

😅 Actually, I was talking about you

but

Skittles is a runner-up for sure

You heart lightly skips in your chest at his response, your lip immediately being sucked between your teeth to nibble. Before you can think up a smart reply which might have taken you all night to formulate, Seokmin is sending something else.

Seokmin sent:

(image.jpg)

I saved this photo of me and Coco for anyone who struck my interest enough, so here you go. Consider it a thank you for your pic :)

You stare at the photo, unable to even admire the adorable poodle in his arms when he is right there. You weren’t one to be quickly drawn in by someone’s looks, but this Seokmin guy… he was an exception. Right off the bat, you’d already thought him attractive, but after having talked to him, that thought was hammered ever deeper into your sleep-deprived mind.

You sent:

Pretty handsome

Seokmin sent:

Coco?

Oh

Wait

I see what you did there 😅

You sent:

:)

i think your smiley faces are rubbing off on me

Seokmin sent:

People say my smile in real life is contagious too

You sent:

we should test that theory one day

but first

i’d like to know more about you, mr. dog person

Seokmin sent:

Shouldn’t you be sleeping? I don’t want to keep you up…

No, perhaps a little while ago you might’ve agreed with him. You would have wished him goodnight because realistically, he’d be there in the morning when you woke up. But, maybe you were possessed, because you never felt more awake than right now.

You sent:

i’m not tired. are you?

Unlike before, Seokmin takes a while to reply. You know that you shouldn’t be upset if he’s honest and tells you he’s pooped and he’ll talk to you later, but the thought that he might makes your mood slightly deflate. You hadn’t had such a nice conversation with a guy like this in a long time, an embarrassingly long time actually. As impatient as it sounded, you weren’t very excited to let this spark of curiosity die as soon as it was ignited.

You begin to twiddle your thumbs as one minute turned into two, two turned into three, and then it happened.

Your phone vibrates in your lap.

Seokmin sent:

I couldn’t be more awake.

And hi, I’m Seokmin. It’s nice to meet you formally :)

You sent:

hi, Seokmin. I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you too :) so, besides dogs, what else are you into?

So yeah, you didn’t consider yourself particularly “bad at dating”. You considered yourself “waiting for a Seokmin to come along”, and boy was it worth it.

[lifeafterten]

RtN 05: No Turning Back Meow

“Well, shit.” That was my first real thought-- First real thought I had for months, it feels like. The thoughts that occupied my brain before were plans. Game plans. How to get from point A to point B on this game plan or that plan. Running plays in my head to figure out how to best tackle problem after problem.  That was every day. For months. I felt strangely bereft not wracking my brain for another plan.  I breathed in deeply, immediately thinking that it was pretty lame that my first stress free breath happened to be in a shared; contained space with fifty other people.  Ironic, really... But still pretty lame.  It wasn’t even fresh, clean air. That’s pretty fucking lame. 

I popped a Dramamine in my mouth, swallowing the small pill dry with practiced ease. One of many, I was sure. Been poppin’ these babies like Skittles for as long as I can remember.  I think I’ve popped more Drams than I have birth control and I’m not sure if that’s something I should be disclosing, but I think it paints a pretty good picture of how much of this shit I put into my body. 

I watched as we ascended above the clouds, eyes squinted. It was bright.  Too bright. I wanted coffee. I shut the window shade closed with a swift snap. I was tired, but I knew I wasn’t going to sleep. Story of my life, it seems. I was not even going to make the sad attempt at sleep, so I picked a spot in the cabin to stare at mindlessly. It was only a three hour flight to Manila... Not a huge deal. Plus I was looking forward to empty staring, I didn’t have that luxury often. I was usually thinking of work. It was either work or personal bullshit, and frankly work gives me enough of a headache already, so I didn’t need to think about my personal issues, which was why I clogged my head with work in the first-- I wasn’t empty staring. I was thinking too much. Again. Empty staring. Empty staring. Think of nothing, damn you. It’s a vacation, think of nothing.

We were at the last leg of the flight. We should be landing soon. My leg was bouncing. I wasn’t in a hurry, but I was trying to keep my body busy. Thud thud thud. I closed my eyes, praying for patience. “Listen to mommy, please...” pleaded the mother behind me to her inconsolable child. “No! I’m. so. bored!” each point was enforced with a bratty stomp to the back of my seat. I prayed harder. Was I doing this shit wrong?  I grit my teeth for the umpteenth time. I don’t know how long I started doing this, but my jaw was sore. But I kept bouncing my leg. Just kept bouncing my leg as I mentally debated with myself: ‘Ashley, it’s never the right thing to shake a child.’ I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to shake a fucking baby. If its legs work enough to produce that type of annoying force... it’s not an infant.  ‘Let me clarify: it’s not right to shake a child, especially a stranger’s child.’ Its mother will thank me in the long run, I’m sure. ‘She’s trying her best, maybe it’s the child’s first time on an airplane.’ Then perhaps its mother should have given it Benadryl so she and I can have a peaceful flight existence and it can stop playing Dance Dance Revolution on my fucking back. 

‘Ashley... you’re not suggesting that she drug her child?’

Oh, I’m not only suggesting it, I fucking encourage it. It’s much better than me turning around and pimp slapping the both of them.

My leg bounces quicker at the thought of the small act of violence. I like it too much. Keep bouncing.

‘As opposed to regular slapping?’

Yes, palm slapping is to make a statement, pimp slapping is to shut bitches up.

‘Ashley that’s fucking terrible.’

You asked. 

‘We’re talking about a young mother and her child for chrissakes!’

I don’t know what you’re referring to, but I’m talkin’ ‘bout a young mother and her... Thing.

‘Ashley...’

It’s a demon-- I’m sure of it. 

‘For the love of-- WHY do you insist on calling that little girl an It?’

Spawns of Satan recognize no gender.

I felt my conscience give up on me. Or did I give up on myself? I kept my leg bouncing. It was habit now.  “Are you okay?” Lani whispered at my left. Shit. She must have noticed the bouncing.  “I want to shake the living crap out of it.” I admitted honestly. She pressed her lips together trying not to laugh or smile. Good woman. She shouldn’t encourage my bad behavior. “You mean the little girl behind you?” I muttered something under my breath. “Hm?”  “I said that I didn’t care what you called it, it’s the spawn of Satan.” “Ashley!” She pressed her lips together again, but her eyes were laughing. I shrugged one shoulder, I’ve already had this conversation, “I’m not smacking the shit out of it and its mother, so I’m gonna say whatever I want as compensation.” Lani gave me the look of resignation. It was something that I was used to seeing on my friends’ faces. “The things your mouth says, but doesn’t match your face.” was what she ended with. I don’t really understand what she means by this. That my words are too harsh for what my face looks like? Is she implying that I have a sweet face? Does my scowling not count for anything?  I can’t help what my face looks like-- My face looks like my face. I don’t understand.  Nevermind. I’ll not dwell on it, it’s an argument I’ve had before, and I always reach an impasse.  No point in trying to figure it out-- discard. The pilot announces our decent and soon after announces our arrival and how Manila is the heart of the Filipino. The Filipino in me is touched a little bit-- Feeling that cultural pride fleetingly before it dissipates. 

Lani rises to gather her things to deplane, her expression questioning as I didn’t do the same. I feel my face morph into something closely resembling a smile, “I wanna see who they are.” Right. My tormentors. I watch as she rolls her lips between her teeth with a small shake of her head.

The mother was a lot younger than I anticipated her to be. I knew by her whispered pleas to her devil-child that she was Filipino. Dark haired by nature, but modernized with brown highlights, but I noted she looked tired. I decided that the mother will be spared. The child, however-- I mean, “child”-- would have been considered cute if I didn’t want to punt it across the plane as consolation for my hours of torment.  The devil-child rubbed its eyes with surprisingly unhoofed hands.  I decided then that I was too tired to hold grudges and let them go ahead of me.

I slung my bag over my shoulder, ignoring the sting of the strap as it dug into the skin despite the thick layer of my sweater. Maybe I put too much shit in my duffel...? Probably. Could I help it? No the fuck I can’t.

The Manila airport is exactly how I remembered it to be: crowded and pregnant with the noises of chatter and clanging of luggage. My eyes transfixed on the shuffle of feet going at varying levels of speed. Some were quick with short steps as they dodged feet, bags, and children alike, while others were more relaxed and sure footed. I was sure mine were neither. My footwork is a combination of In-a-Hurry with a dash of I-Don’t-Know-Where-the-Fuck-I’m-Going and a perpetual sense of Please-God-Don’t-Let-Me-Trip-Over-Myself-And-Eat-Shit. I breathed in. I didn’t like too many people in my space. Lani was watching me, no doubt trying to make sure she knew where I was, and trying to gauge my anxiety level in equal parts. A part of me was relieved and annoyed that she knew about my anxiety. I knew it was necessary for her to know.  Because she was my friend. Because she needed to know when I was pushing past my limit.  I was okay. I wanted to tell her so, but at the same time I didn’t want to address it. I ended up not acknowledging it.  Lani and I were just passing through to get to our connecting flight to Hong Kong.  I could handle this shit.

I’ve never been to China, let alone a Chinese airline, but I found myself not really paying much attention to the plane itself but the flight attendants. Each airline has their own uniform--duh-- though I found myself rather fascinated with the different costumes. I say costumes, because they looked uncomfortable as fuck, but it was also all for show. I just wonder why they insist on the red lipstick.  Our attendant had lipstick on her straight, white teeth. I probably made her feel weird because I was staring at her mouth whenever she spoke. I didn’t care. That shade of red did not suit her coloring. Too bright. She would have looked better with a deeper red with cooler undertones. Still, the lipstick on the teeth was pretty fucked up.

We had a pretty sizable layover when we reached Hong Kong. About six hours. So I found myself in a little bookstore (doesn’t matter where I go, I always seem to find a bookstore) bought a couple novels, and we ventured to first find out where our gate was before we fucked with obtaining some form of sustenance. Once we got the fun stuff over and done with we found ourselves in a pizza place. Lani ordered salad and pasta and I had beer in front of me. I felt strangely at peace.  The beer was shit, but I haven’t been able to drink for well over a month and some change so the first sip tasted like gold. Actually it was shitty beer, so it tasted like shit, but golden shit.  Food has been a weird thing for me for a while. My weight has been fluctuating like a sum’bitch, first with the lack of appetite last year, then with the sickness of this year. My body’s been through some shit-- so I was a little cautious with food, cautious with everything really. I was sick of feeling like shit.  Suffice to say several entrees and a dessert later... we loitered too long, drank too much, ate far too much all the while racking up quite the bill after. It was too hilarious to be outraged. 

We were on vacation for chrissakes, nothing could fuck with our vibe. Not from what we went through just to get here. 

It was time to go. And with a quick blink, hop and a skip we were back on the plane. New set of attendants. No lipstick on the teeth. I was disappointed.  Lani was asleep next to me, her blanket to her chin; headphones on her ears. She had made friends with the two gents next to her (of course) before she got comfortable. They told me their names. I suck at names and forgot them almost immediately. Didn’t matter, Lani sat between them and I so I didn’t have to make small talk.

Fucking hate small talk.  Small talk makes my balls itch and my eyes twitch. Fuck small talk.  I had a mind to maybe catch some sleep. It was another short flight to Hong Kong, but I was pretty certain that was gonna be another fruitless endeavor. So I decided on relaxing instead, but when I tried to recline my chair back... I was met with resistance. I eyed Lani’s seat next to mine, she had reclined hers as she snoozed.  Sonovah... My thumb pressed the button on my armrest again. And again. No dice. I felt a shift. A shift that came from the back of my fucking seat. Mother fucker. I closed my eyes again, praying for patience, although by now I was certain I was doing it wrong, because my patience felt like tinder. Very flammable tinder.  Exhaling gently from my nose, I peeked behind me and lo and behold... Not a child this time, but a grown ass man... A grown ass man who had fucking planted his knees behind my seat.  Let me repeat this stupid shit: A grown ass man had planted his knees behind my seat like a fucktard. Who fucking does that? I suddenly wanted the demon child back. Get me the demon child!

I eyed the sleeping Lani again not knowing what to do. I didn’t want to cause a scene nor did I want to embarrass her. That was my worry, you see. Since I left my ex my filter was broken. Don’t know how nor why, just saw that it was and I was trying to be good. ... So I dealt with this shit. Grit my teeth and took it.  ... For about three hours. My limit had been reached-- my back was aching from being uncomfortable and physically holding myself back from doing anything cringy for the past few hours. I’d be proud of myself if I wasn’t so fucking pissed off. This fucker’s knees never left my back. I was livid. Livid enough to turn my ass back to catch this mother fucker’s eyes and whisper-yelled through clenched teeth, “Put your fucking knees down. Now.” It barely registered that I had actually hissed at someone when I realized that this bitch doesn’t understand what I said, but understood my hand gesture when I had finger pointed to his knees and aggressively pointed down. Without a word, looking at me with a wide eyed stare, he put his knees down.  I’d have felt triumph if I hadn't felt eyes on me. Lani was awake, looking at me. Whoops. “Everything okay?” I nodded, “It’s fine.” She made a face. She didn’t like the word “fine”. 

There was still a few hours left into the flight, so a movie seemed appropriate to pass the time. I picked Tomb Raider-- One, Lara Croft was a badass, and two, she was a smart badass.  Not even half way into the movie something caught my attention at my peripheral, causing my eyes to wander to Lani’s screen where two women were making out. I blinked, wondering if I mis-saw.  Nope.  Two bitches. On the screen. Heavy make out. I caught Lani’s eyes, “Dude. What the fuck are you watching?” I didn’t think I’d ever see my friend blush and get flustered, but she did as she hurried to explain, “I don’t know! I didn’t know it was this kind of movie.” I smiled, couldn’t help it and I just patted her hand, “No judgement.” I kept smiling to myself as the strangest feeling came over me.

Dude. Things were actually happening. After months of planning and all the set backs and my constant bouncing between being fine and being fucked, shit was happening. As if on cue, the pilot signals our decent to Kathmandu.  Well, shit. No turning back now.

TBC... 

[lupusalatus74539-blog]

The Bad Place, Part 2

THIS CONTAINS MAJOR FREAKING SPOILERS!!!! WATCH EPISODE TEN SEASON 13 OF SUPERNATURAL BEFORE READING!!! (And have a tissue box nearby because a character dies)

It had been three days. Three days since the landed here. Three days since they met Mark and Jack. Three days Mark would go out and hunt, but also look for the portal Jack (the nephilem) had opened. Mark came back, dragging in an alien deer that dwarfed the brothers. Jack looked up at Mark, his horns changing from a bored gray color to an excited pink color. He quickly stamped it out with dark green, and Mark chuckled.

"Nice try, but I saw that, Skittles." Mark said. Jack's horn, wing, and ruff color changed to red.

"Whatever, Fischf*ck." He growled. Mark glared at him.

"So you really want to start, Irish Airhorn?"

"Wet dog."

"Fruit pile."

"Korean douche!"

"Hey!" Dean snapped. "Did you find it or not?" He asked.

Mark hung his head. "It's hard to find something so small when you're so big." He said. Jack nodded. "And when you need glasses." He added.

"You can't miss it, it's a glowing line floating in mid air." Sam said. Sam had been the more kind one to the two giants. They even got comfortable to tell him their backstory. Mark's family was a family of werewolves, all living off of animal hearts. He was taken when he was six, turned into a giant werewolf, and then sent here when he was deemed a failure. Jack on the other hand was from Ireland. His dad was a hunter, but wanted his family to live a non-monster-infested life. Jack too was kidnapped at the age of six, turned into a giant monster, and sent here because he accidentally melted someone with "Magic death spit" as he called it.

"Well, now I know I should be looking for a glowing blurry line." Mark said, ripping out the heart and veins attached from the deer. The Winchesters only deemed one werewolf a friend they could count on, Garth. But being in the proximity of werewolf that towered over them and make them into a fitting snack was down right terrifying. Jack got up from his chair and walked over to the deer, cutting off it's hind leg and eating it raw.

"I won't ever get used to this..." Dean said, turning away as the two ate. It wasn't noisy, at least to each other, but it was noisy for the brothers. Every little noise, even a swallow, they could hear it. Mark looked up at the two hunters, blood on his lips like sauce on a child's face. He licked it off and wiped his lips, then retreated to his room in his wolf form. Jack watched the wolf leave, then returned to eating.

About an hour later, Jack was on his bed, wings sprawled out lazily as he let his food settle. The brothers were still in the kitchen, cooking their own food. He was about to doze off as Light hit his scales, when he heard it. The sound of someone hitting something. Jack shot up out of bed, and crept into the kitchen. The brothers were talking to one another.

"I don't think it's open. The last one was only open for a few hours, what makes you think this one will be longer?" Dean said, taking a bite out of his portion. Sam shrugged.

"I don't know, but what do you think will happen if we can't go home?" Sam asked.

"We'll become these guys' bitches. We can't do anything to them, silver only stuns Mark and Jack's got scales for skin." Jack's heart dropped. "Honestly, we should leave tomorrow. When their asleep, they won't know until it's too late. We'll hide our scent, camp out in an impossible place where giants can't reach us. We'll be the main entree all over again."

The sound, there it was again. Mark brushed by Jack, driven by the sound. He swept past the two hunters, side-eyed them as if to say, "I'll be back to eat you" and left without a word. Jack now knew what this was.

"Guys, we need to go, now." Jack said, walking up to the humans. Dean gave Sam a 'see what I mean?' look and stood up.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked, stamping on Dean's foot.

     "I think Mark might know where the portal is now." He paused, then looked at the hunters. "Are either of you afraid of heights?"

     Dean was about to speak but Sam quipped, "No." Jack smiled. "Good." He said, lowering his hand palm up. Sam climbed on, but Dean stood his ground.

     "There is no way I'm riding shotgun on a monster's shoulder." Dean claimed. Jack frowned at him.

     "Well, right now ye don't have a choice, bud." Jack said, carefully snatching Dean up in the same hand that held Sam. He dropped the two into his shirt pocket, walked outside, and spread his wings. He took off, scanning the ground looking for the werewolf. He flew in the direction the sound was coming from as well, and saw not only Mark, but many other "failures" all heading to the same spot.

     A monster dinner bell. He thought, remembering where they were. He glided down towards the two trees with a metal skull in the ground, and saw two girls tied up. Jack fished Sam and Dean out of his pocket, and put them on the ground. One of the girls, a blonde, looked up with a smirk.

     "Claire!" Sam said, running towards her. He pulled out a knife and undid her bindings. Dean did the same with the other girl. "How did you get here?"

     A rustle caught Jack's attention and he snarled, baring his venomous fangs.

     "What the hell is that?" Claire asked.

     "Uh, Claire, that's Jack, or, Séan. A dragon-giant hybrid." Sam said.

     A tan neko leapt out of the overgrowth and Jack roared, spraying his venom onto it. The neko screeched as it fell to the ground, clawing its face.

     "Run!" Jack snapped, lashing his tail. A naga dropped from the trees and he sprayed an open cut with venom. The naga, too, screeched and clawed at the wound. The group wasted no time as they ran. Mark burst into the circle of bare land, snarling and foaming. He smirked, then smacked Mark with a wing as hard as he could. Mark whined shook himself, and looked around.

     "What happened?" He asked.

     "The monster dinner bell rang and Sam and Dean are going home." Jack explained.

     Mark tore down into the direction the Winchesters left in, and Jack trailed behind, shooting anything that popped out at them with venom. They finally caught up in a small clearing. Mark, without thinking, charged towards a thin, glowing, and floating line. He screamed as he slid into the line, and vanished. The brothers barely moving out of the way in time.

    "Go! I'll guard you!" Jack snapped, looking around wildly. A hooded figure approached with a spear, and Jack roared. He bared his fangs as the person raised it's spear. When they threw it, Jack sprayed a full stream of venom, scarring the person as they barely leapt out of the way. Their leg caught the most venom, and they too began screaming and writhing. Another cry cut the air.

     Jack turned around and saw Claire laying next to the other girl, Kaiya, he had overheard, with a spear through her chest. Jack winced, he barely knew Kaiya, and now she was dying. Claire got up, aided by Dean, and the three left through the portal. Jack jogged up to it, and looked back at the hooded figure. They were down and out as far as he could tell. He reached his hand through the portal, and everything went white.

     Jack opened his eyes, and was met with the barrel of a shotgun. He yelped and backpedaled, looking up at the holder.

     Wait.

     He was looking up at someone, rather than down. His tail, wings, horns, and frill turned pink and bright yellow with excitement. He was human. Well, almost human.

     "Is he supposed to do that?" Someone asked.

     "Sam thinks it's based off of his mood. Whenever he gets pissy he turns red and orange." Dean said.

     "Wow! A dragon!" Another person said. Ha watched as a woman with a soccer mom accent examined his wings. "Oh, and a handsome one too!"

     "Donna." A small woman whined. "Leave the thing be. You were just about to point-blank him a minute ago."

     Donna huffed and returned to the group. Jack recognized Claire, Sam, and Dean out of the group. The other four were an unknown to him.

     A groan of pain and exhaustion caught his attention as the group turned their attention to Mark, whom probably crashed into a wall. He was still a werewolf, but a little smaller than Jack because of the hybrid's horns. The dragon hybrid flapped over to Mark and helped him up.

     "What happened?" Mark asked.

     "We made it home! That's what!" Jack said, trapping Mark into a hug. Donna cooed and Mark tried to escape his friend's constricting grasp. "And also, guess what?"

     "What?" Mark asked, glancing around nervously as Jack smirked.

     "I'm still taller than ye." Jack teased, earning an elbow from Mark and an annoyed huff.

[watchingthesuperbowl]

Notes taken during Super Bowl XLIX

PREGAME

This is an NBC broadcast with an extended Carrie Underwood music video at the beginning. Great. Perfect. Thanks for that. Football now?

Roof is open at the stadium in Glendale, Arizona. Temperature in the mid 60s.

Michaels opens with deflated football controversy. The Patriots are minimizing it. Collinsworth says he thinks the New England players will rally behind each other.

This recording doesn't seem to include commercials, which is fine with me.

Seattle wearing their dark blue uniforms. Patriots in white.

One of the Seahawks introduces himself as being from THE Utah State University, which is fun.

Patriots run in behind what appear to be actual soldiers. "Crazy Train" playing.

Seahawks get the string part from Bittersweet Symphony instead.

Walter Payton Man of the Year Award time. Last year's winner, Charles Tillman, announces this year's winner. Thomas Davis, Panthers LB.

Moment of silence for the Giants' Ann Mara.

John Legend performs America The Beautiful. He does it about as well as you'd expect, which is extremely well.

Color guard is made up of servicemembers in each branch of the armed forces, all based in Arizona.

Idina Menzel to perform the Star Spangled Banner. I remember this being bad. I hope it isn't.

It's not bad, per se, it's just weird. It's like she's a driver alternately slamming on the brakes, then gunning the engine. You can't get any sense of a regular tempo. She sang all the notes and sang them all well, but it was a weird performance.

Collinsworth: New England's offensive tackles need to play big and fast.

Collinsworth: The two key players are Tom Brady and Marshawn Lynch. You don't say, Cris. Thanks for the analysis.

Coin toss: Tedy Bruschi and Kenny Easley, honorary captains and club greats. Patriots call heads. It is tails. Seattle will defer, Patriots will receive in the first half.

Seattle coach Pete Carroll: Not thinking about going back to back. If it happens, it happens. We play every game like it's a championship and this one's no difference. Will play tough and smart, trust and believe in ourselves.

Cutaway: Marshawn Lynch on the sideline eating Skittles.

FIRST QUARTER

Decent runback, Amendola out to the New England 18.

Michaels: Tom Brady says there isn't a game he would want to win more than this one.

Patriots complete a few very short passes early. They're getting 3-5 yards per pass, but it gets them a first down.

First five plays are either runs or very quick throws. Patriots not putting Brady in a position to face the pass rush. He throws incomplete on third down and the Patriots will punt it away.

The Seahawks hit the kicker. Is it 5 or 15 yards? Five yards. Running into the kicker. It's 4th and 1. Declined, the punt stands.

Collinsworth is insisting that the rule says if you hit the punter's plant leg, it's roughing - a 15 yard penalty. That was clearly a collision with the knee of the plant leg.

NBC graphic: Russell Wilson is 10-0 (including postseason) in his career against quarterbacks who have won a Super Bowl.

Seattle goes three and out. They'll give the ball right back to the Patriots. Fair catch at the New England 33.

Quick pass from Brady to Edelman. Brady is now 5-6 for 27 yards. Very short passing.

LeGarrette Blount up the middle for 5 to get into Seattle territory.

Brady to Gronk for 4. None of these passes are downfield. Swing pass to Shane Vereen for a few. These quick, short passes are keeping the clock rolling. Under 5:00 left in the first.

3rd and 1, Blount around right end for 6, to the Seattle 25. This is an impressive if methodical drive.

Quick out to Amendola in the flat. Another 13 yard gain. Brady is 8-9 for 44 yards.

Well, that's not terribly impressive. Brady throws to the end zone on third and six and the only person in the area is DB Jeremy Lane. That's an interception. New England gets zilch, other than field position, out of that drive.

Lane is injured as he's tackled. His arm is in what looks like an aircast. That's not great. I have no interest in seeing that replay.

Total plays: New England 19, Seattle 3. Score: 0-0.

First quarter ends. It's scoreless. Seahawks didn't throw a single pass in the first quarter, if memory serves.

SECOND QUARTER

Jeremy Lane is "doubtful" with a left wrist injury. I'm pretty sure the thing was completely shattered. The only way he was coming back in the game is if they amputated the arm..

Third and 9, Wilson buys time, rolls, looks around, runs some more, looks, doesn't see anything, and he throws an incomplete pass. Jon Ryan will punt.

Halftime show is Katy Perry and Lenny Kravitz. Sure, if by "Lenny Kravitz", you mean "Left Shark".

Another quick outside pass, this time to Amendola. He breaks it for 17 yards, (almost?) all of them after the catch. They're into Seattle territory again.

Collinsworth: The Patriots are clearing space for Vereen, trying to get him one-on-one with a linebacker in the open.

Finally a deep pass. Brady deep to Gronkowski, incomplete. Vereen up the middle for 1 on the next play. Third and 9.

First down. Edelman does his best Wes Welker impersonation, comes across the middle short, and picks up 23. First and 10 from the Seattle 12.

Two plays later, Brady throws a slant. Lafell splits two Seahawks and gets into the end zone. Safety Earl Thomas blasts CB Tharold Simon instead of the receiver and Simon looks hurt. He's only in the game because Jeremy Lane got injured. They've gotta make sure they don't run out of cornerbacks in the Super Bowl against Tom Brady.

Once again, the Seahawks go three and out. Collinsworth says the Patriots DBs have completely dominated the receivers and taken everything away from Russell Wilson. Second quarter is almost halfway over and Wilson still hasn't completed a pass.

Total yards: New England 140, Seattle 22.

Collinsworth: Patriots are running Shane Vereen out of the backfield and sending their tight end or slot deep down the seam. That gets quick WR Julian Edelman one-on-one over the middle against linebacker Bobby Wagner. They're winning the game with that strategy.

Maybe so, but Brady just threw incomplete on third down. Ryan Allen will punt with 7:17 left in the half. Downed near the 30.

Cutaways: John Travolta, Kevin Hart, Will Ferrell, Mark Wahlberg, Kenny Chesney, Steven Tyler, Paul McCartney.

This is the second-longest a team has ever gone in a Super Bowl without a completion. The '85 Patriots completed a pass with 5:00 in the half.

And, as soon as NBC mentions that, Wilson completes a pass. Hits Kearse for a first down. 

Michaels: None of these Seahawks wide receivers were drafted. Not a one.

Oh, what a play by Chris Matthews. Wilson throws downfield and Matthews makes a turning, jumping, falling catch at the New England 11. Seahawks threatening.

Lynch run, Lynch run, and the ball is on the three yard line. Less than 3:00 left in the half.

Next play is another Lynch run. He's pretty good. Bounces it outside, spins, breaks a tackle, and reaches into the end zone. Suddenly it's 7-7. 2:16 left before halftime.

Cutaway: All of the footballs for this game in duffel bags, being guarded so nobody messes with the air pressure.

Collinsworth repeats the Patriots' line about not knowingly tampering with footballs. His tone of voice suggests he believes them, which is precious.

One play into the New England drive, we reach the two minute warning. Patriots at their 31, but this is when their offense really hums.

Blount runs for 9. Second and inches. Clock at 1:30 and counting.

Quick out to Vereen. Tackled in bounds at the 45. 1:00. Clock rolling.

Brady misses Amendola downfield. It looks like the receiver had no idea where the ball was and just sort of stuck his arms into the air in case the ball came.

Edelman jet sweep. Gets out of bounds in Seattle territory. 0:49 before the half.

Brady to Vereen across the middle. Gets to the Seahawks' 26. Timeout called with 0:40 remaining. That was the same look the Patriots have been running, where they clear out an area of the field to get a little, quick guy one-on-one against a middle linebacker.

Collinsworth: Seahawks can't bring in extra cornerbacks to deal with the Patriots' passing game because of the injury to Lane.

This time, it's not a cornerback in coverage, it's a linebacker. Rob Gronkowski blows past K.J. Wright off the line and gets wide open. Total mismatch. Brady to Gronk, touchdown. 14-7 Patriots with 0:31 left before halftime.

That TD is Tom Brady's 11th touchdown pass in a Super Bowl, tying Joe Montana for the career record.

Kickoff through the end zone. Seahawks have 31 seconds and three timeouts to work with if they want to tie the game before halftime.

First play, 19 yard run up the middle from Turbin. Timeout #1. 0:24 left in the half, Seahawks at their own 39.

Next play, Wilson zone read run for 16. Gets out of bounds at the Patriots 45. 0:17 and two timeouts left.

Incomplete pass. 0:11. NBC graphic says Hauschka's pregame long going this direction was from 52 yards. Seattle needs 10 more yards to get him there.

Ricardo Lockette downfield gets 20 or so, but there's a flag down. Personal foul, defense, facemask. It's tacked on to the end of the play. Do the Seahawks kick a field goal here with 0:06 left? Nobody knows, even the Seahawks. They call a timeout to talk about it.

You don’t often see a personal foul facemask before the ball is thrown.

I think you have to kick here. The Seahawks will run a play. I am not a qualified NFL football coach. Pete Carroll is.

Everybody lines up and...New England calls a timeout. They wanted to see the Seahawks' formation.

Touchdown. Wow. Wilson throws a back-shoulder bullet to Chris Matthews in the end zone right after Collinsworth guessed it would be a throw to Matthews. Matthews was like twice as tall as the guy covering him.

What a great play call. Looks like it'll be 14-14 at halftime. Two seconds left - I assume squib kickoff.

Yep. The guy who picks the ball up takes a few steps and then kneels, which...dude, there was no time on the clock. The only possible benefit of giving yourself up is not fumbling, which I guess is something.

HALFTIME

John Harbaugh: Seattle is having major matchup problems on defense. They can't cover these guys and they need to do something.

Harbaugh: That was a really tough ask of the quarterback, going for it with six seconds left. Great play call from Seattle.

Dan Patrick: Katy Perry is coming up with the halftime show. She'll have a tough act to follow. Oh, she'll be fine, Dan. She'll be just fine.

Rodney Harrison: Seattle defense has no answer for Shane Vereen. If I'm Brady, I continue to spread him out and get coverage from a linebacker.

It's time. IT'S LEFT SHARK TIME. GET TURNT.

Katy Perry comes out with Roar. She's riding a giant "robotic" tiger, which is a neat prop but is run by people inside the legs. Dark Horse. This is, visually, light years better than anything I've ever seen at a Super Bowl halftime show. It's extremely well put-together. A wild Lenny Kravitz appears! I Kissed a Girl duet. I'm not sure the song means the same thing when a dude sings the lyrics.

YES. I see sharks, palm trees, and beach balls. It's time. Teenage Dream. DAT SHARK DOH. Left shark is completely out of sync with everything and looks crazy.

California Gurlz. They're undeniable, but not as undeniable as Left Shark.

Missy Elliott! Get Your Freak On. This is theoretically a duet, but Katy Perry is just a famous background dancer/singer. Work It. Now it's Missy Elliott solo. Lose Control. This probably allows Katy to change costumes.

Firework. Katy is alone on a small-ish stage. I guess that's how they close out halftime shows and get the stage off the field. Now she's on a platform that's being raised, going up up up like a firework. She's wearing a safety harness that matches her dress, which is neat. Okay, now she's flying across the sky. Looks like she's riding the NBC "The More You Know" logo.

That was the grand finale. She nailed it.

Costas: In all five Patriots Super Bowls, win or lose, the margin of victory has been four or fewer points.

Costas has a whole long monologue and at the end tells us that the kickers could decide the game. You think?

Michaels: Russell Wilson says halftime is so long that he took his uniform off, took a shower, and put a clean uniform on. I can't tell whether or not he's serious, but that's insane.

THIRD QUARTER

Seahawks to receive the kickoff. Through the end zone. Seahawks take over at their 20.

NBC graphic: Chris Matthews is the fourth player to have his first career catch in a Super Bowl.

Seahawks start the second half feeding it to Marshawn Lynch. Beast mode breaks the second run for 12-15 yards.

Oh, man, what a catch. Another back shoulder pass to Matthews, way downfield. Big gain. Michaels says Matthews was working at a Foot Locker when the Seahawks asked him to try out, and he had to convince his boss to give him time off. A replay shows a very subtle push-off by the receiver that went uncalled.

Seattle gets 8 yards on first down, 1 on second, 0 on third. They'll try a chip-shot field goal with Steven Hauschka. 27 yards. Right down the middle. Seahawks lead 17-14 with 11:09 left in the third.

Collinsworth: So far, everything's going fine for the Patriots, but they look at the scoreboard and it's 17-14 Seattle.

I mean, I guess so, Cris, but you aren't going to win games doing nothing but throwing slants and swing passes. If you force yourself to have to pick up 6-7 first downs in a drive, that's a high degree of difficulty.

Third down, the Patriots keep picking on Bobby Wagner over the middle, but Wagner wins this one. It's an interception. Seahawks in business at midfield. Brady was looking for Gronk.

Michaels says that Matthews jokingly gets upset when he googles himself and sees the MSNBC guy with the same name. Says that might not be the case anymore.

Marshawn Lynch up the middle. Tough, strong, quick run and it's first and goal from the 4.

Secons and goal, Patriots sell out to stop the run. Play fake by Wilson and Doug Baldwin is WIDE open in the end zone. He nearly trips and drops the ball. Replay shows he used the umpire as a pick to gain a step on the DB. It's 24-14 Seahawks with 4:54 left in the third.

Michaels: This is the biggest deficit Brady has faced in any of his Super Bowls.

Patriots drive opens with an offensive holding penalty. 1st and 20 from the 25.

Patriots go three-and-out. The holding penalty was too big to overcome. Seattle will get the ball back with 3:15 left in the third and a ten point lead.

First play, Wilson downfield to Ricardo Lockette for a 25 yard gain. Seattle averaging more than 15 yards per pass attempt.

Third and 3, Wilson makes a terrific throw downfield to Jermaine Kearse, but Kearse just flat drops the ball. Jon Ryan to punt with a minute left in the quarter. Out of bounds at the 14.

After a run on first down and a short pass to the tight end on second down, the third quarter comes to an end. 15 minutes left.

FOURTH QUARTER

Third and 1 to start the quarter, the Patriots run with Blount. Stopped. They punt.

Seahawks feeding Lynch now. Patriots respond with run blitzes.

The Seahawks go five-wide on third and seven. Wilson sacked by Ninkovich. A coverage sack - Russell Wilson had nothing to throw to. Seattle will punt it back to New England.

NBC graphic: Brady has two interceptions today. That's as many as he threw in his first five Super Bowls combined.

First down, nobody can get open. It's a sack. Makes it 2nd and 18.

3rd and 14, Brady steps up and throws to Edelman at midfield. Gain of 21 and a first down. Clock now below 10:00.

Swing pass to Vereen, steps out of bounds and is hit afterwards. Personal foul. Dumb play by Earl Thomas. Patriots are in field goal range and rolling.

Vereen run to the 25. Clock below 9:00, third and 8. Patriots down 10.

Complete down the middle to Edelman. First and goal inside the 5. Clock closing in on 8:00.

Holy cow. Edelman just faked Tharold Simon out of existence on first and goal, but Brady missed him. It was a double move that just about broke Simon's ankles.

Second down, Brady to Amendola coming across the back of the end zone. Touchdown. 24-21 Seahawks, a bit less than 8:00 to go.

That touchdown pass was Brady's 12th career Super Bowl TD pass. That makes him #1 all-time, passing Joe Montana (11).

NBC: Seahawks have allowed a total of 13 points in the fourth quarter in their last 8 games. Patriots have allowed 12.

First play of the Seattle drive, a huge non-call. Patriots DB Malcolm Butler slips, falls, and clearly reaches out to trip WR Ricardo Lockette. Incomplete pass, no call.

Third and 5. 7:05 left. Wilson overthrows an open Marshawn Lynch going down the sideline. Lynch wasn't going very hard on the pass route and it threw Wilson off. It's a three-and-out that takes less than a minute. Ryan to punt. Patriots get the ball with 6:52 left.

Patriots moving downfield slowly. A couple completions to Vereen. Less than 5:45 left, first and 10 near midfield. Plenty of time for New England.

Swing pass to Edelman for 9, into Seattle territory. Less than 5:00 left, ball at the 42.

Second and long, GRONK. He's covered by Kam Chancellor and beats him. Gain of 20 or so. First and 10 from the 32.

Second down, Brady to Gronk again. He's one-on-one with a linebacker. 13 yard completion. to the 19. Next play is Vereen up the middle for 7. Clock approaches 3:00, 2nd and 3.

Complete to Lafell. First and goal at the 6. 2:52 left. Brady calls a timeout when the play clock runs low.

Brady's 36 completions have set a new single game Super Bowl record.

Blount up the middle for 3. Second and goal. Clock will be around 2:10 at the next snap. Second down, they run the same play that torched Tharold Simon on the last drive. Edelman with a double move toasts Simon. Brady won't miss that twice in a row and he doesn't. It's 28-24 Patriots with 2:02 left on the clock. Seahawks have all three timeouts.

Kickoff is a touchback. Gives Seattle an extra play. We'll hit the two minute warning after the first play of the Seahawk drive.

And that play is a 31 pass down to Marshawn Lynch down the left sideline by Wilson. Gets his team into Patriots territory. 1:55 left.

Next play, incomplete pass. They have to burn a timeout before the second down play - the play clock was down to 1. Second down, Wilson throws deep to Matthews in the end zone. Can't quite get to the ball. Incomplete. Third and 10.

No problem. Wilson to Lockette for 12. First down. 1:15 and counting.

HOLY CRAP. On first down, Wilson throws deep, it bounces off of the defensive back's hand, Jermaine Kearse falls and lands on his back, the ball hits Kearse in the outstretched leg hits the other leg, pops up, hits him in the hand, bounces, and then Kearse finally catches it at the 6 yard line. That's a crazy play.

Seahawks have to burn their second timeout before the next play.

First down, Lynch up the middle. Tackled inside the 1. Clock still rolling. 0:36 and counting, second and goal.

Second down, it's a pass. AND IT'S INTERCEPTED AT THE GOAL LINE. WHAT THE HECK WERE THE SEAHAWKS DOING?

Collinsworth is apoplectic about the play call. Michaels is just confused. You have Marshawn Lynch and you throw the ball?

Seahawks CB Richard Sherman looks like someone farted on his breakfast.

Collinsworth: "If I lose the Super Bowl because Marshawn Lynch can't get it in from the one yard line, so be it. So be it! There is no way....*stuttering*...I don't believe the call."

Patriots have the ball inside their own 1. They can't just take a knee - they need to get it out of the end zone.

Collinsworth, watching the replay: "WHY?!?"

Seattle jumps offside before the Patriots' first snap. Now Brady can just take a knee. And he does.

Now there's pushing and shoving. I see Gronk throw more than one punch. He should really be ejected. We'll see if he is. #51, Irvin for Seattle threw a punch too, it appeared.

Irvin is ejected. Gronk is not.

Brady takes another knee. Seahawks can't stop the clock and it's over. 28-24 Patriots.

POSTGAME

Malcolm Butler: I had a vision I was going to make a big play and it came true. I'm just blessed. Can't explain it right now.

Butler: Could tell from the formation what the play was going to be. It's because of the preparation.

Michaels: One of the things I love about this game, you've got all these huge stars on the field and Chris Matthews would have been an MVP candidate if the Seahawks has won. And now Malcolm Butler, a guy nobody has ever heard of, makes the game-winning play.

Robert Kraft on Deflategate controversy: Every year, if you're privileged to get to this game, hard things happen. You have to be resilient.

Lombardi trophy presented by Kurt Warner, the MVP of Super Bowl XXXIV.

Fans boo Roger Goodell.

Kraft: To all the Patriot fans, this is our fourth Super Bowl championship in 14 years. The first one we won, I thought was pretty special because it happened at a unique time in our country. (9/11, I assume) I never thought another could feel as special, but this one does. We're all Patriots.

Dan Patrick to Belichick: You ever think you'd win another one of those? Belichick: Sure did.

Belichick: So proud of all these players, I love these guys.

Patrick: Did you expect a Marshawn Lynch run on second down at the goal line? Belichick, refusing to throw anyone under the bus: They do a lot of things at the goal line, we needed to be ready for anything.

Tom Brady named MVP.

Brady: It wasn't the way we drew it up, and me throwing a couple of picks didn't help, but we were resilient and got it done. It was a great team win.

Brady: Want to thank friends, family, and teammates.

Gronk: It feels unbelievable! Had no doubts at all, everyone on this team is great.

Edelman: We're bringing this thing back to Foxboro. Feels unbelievable.

Edelman: Nothing but respect for Seattle. They have a great team. We have a mentally tough team that works its tails off and I'm proud of them.

Harbaugh on the Seahawks' decision to pass: That's hard, you've gotta think about running the ball there. You have a timeout if you don't get in.

Dungy and Harrison both agree that you absolutely have to hand the ball to Lynch on second down.

Pete Carroll: It was a fantastic football game. A true championship game.

Carroll on the pass: We had three receivers on the field, they had their goal line defense in, didn't want to run against their goal line package. It's my fault, totally. Everybody said why didn't you just run it and that would have been a good idea. We were playing for third and fourth down, with the amount of time on the clock it would have been perfect.

Carroll: For everything to work out this way, I hate that it happened. Everybody did a great job and we had a chance to win.