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poptod · 3 years

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The Old Gods

Description: Jack has to get close to a powerful suspect. Jack also ponders upon his humanity.

Notes: genuinely didnt meant for this to get so long, my apologies, i just like writing conversations bc i never get to have them. also! I hate myself so much for writing supernatural fanfiction in the good year of our lord 2021. its not my fault, it was the only show i could watch with my cousin that we both liked. anyway! lmk if you like it i could do a part two WC: 11k

The nearest library could hardly be called a library. A more accurate description would be a collection of books––a small collection––that could be read freely but never taken from the library itself. There was little need within the Winchesters to visit the library, considering they had one in their home filled with mythical lore, but the records of Kansas and neighboring cities and states were detailed thoroughly in the nearest library.

Jack knew a great many things; inherent natures and laws of the universe, the experience of power and of fear, both before him and within him. Many things he'd seen deserved to be feared, exposing him to dangers often unheard of amongst regular children.

Three months into existence, however, Jack liked to think he knew more than he did when he was born. This was because he'd spoken to more people, experienced more things, and learned select things about his mother, his father, his family, and strangers. Still, there were things that puzzled him––the age of the world was clear in his mind (4.543 billion years, four months, 22 days, 6 hours, and 52 seconds) but how humanity progressed into what they now were astounded him.

"Humans started as... these creatures with unending curiosity," Castiel explained to him, his hands folded neat in his lap but hidden by his too-long trenchcoat sleeves. "Ceaseless innovation. They started without language but they always had kindness. I think.. that's why God favored them, at least at first."

"So... kindness is a form of.. intelligence?" Jack asked slowly, his brow furrowed tight as he stared past his father.

"I believe so," he said, shifting in his seat. "Kindness drove these animals to building homes, to conversing with one another, to creating a better world for descendants they would never know. It's quite beautiful, actually."

"Am I a part of that story?"

Only half-human, only half-alive, only half the story, belonging to nothing concrete. Jack wasn't really human, leaving him alone in his species.

"Yes," Castiel said without hesitation.

Civilization first started off in a number of areas. The first book Jack found dealt with the fertile crescent northeast of Africa, where Mesopotamia brought forth a number of societies, of cultures, meshed together over the course of thousands of years. Sumerians were one of the first to build their cities, creating writing, the wheel, and the plow in their haven apart from the unpredictable and often violent wild.

But no––the next book Jack found stated that Jericho was the oldest city, west to the fertile crescent near the shore of the Mediterranean and the Dead Sea. The citystate was independent from any other power, often becoming abandoned from raids only to return to high populations, as humans flocked back to the spring water that still poured from inside the earth to this day.

Over the rest of the day spent in the nearest library, Jack learned there was no single spot in which civilization was created and then spread from. The Nile in Africa brought forth Egypt, the Indus river in Pakistan birthed the Harappan civilization, and the two rivers Yellow and Yangtze in China created the first asian cities. From there villages, towns, and cities spread like mold across the earth's surface, eventually bringing humans to inhabit every continent and nearly every environment known on earth.

There were far too many things to know, and the strain of reading on his eyes eventually forced him to retire for the day. He hardly understood anything yet, but the librarian was understanding as to his prolonged stay, and wished him a good evening when he left. He beamed a bright smile despite the strange pain growing behind his eyes, and waved good-bye.

Dean gave him painkillers when he got back to the bunker after Jack thoroughly (and unnecessarily) described his headache.

"Humans are... strange," Jack said, his brow furrowed in deep thought. He rested his elbows on the table, leaning over an empty bowl of cereal.

"Not wrong, but, care to elaborate?" asked Sam, who was sitting across from him at the kitchen table, a newspaper and pen in his hand.

"Castiel said you created the first cities out of a desire to.. to protect each other, and to keep yourselves safe. And then the first thing you do when you meet other cities is to go to war with them."

Sam sucked in a sharp breath, leaning back as he set the newspaper aside. This would take a little more concentration than a passing ear.

"People are scared by things they don't know," Sam began only to be cut off.

"Why?"

"They don't know if it's dangerous. You didn't trust us, at first, either. We didn't know whether to trust you. Remember?"

"Oh," Jack said softly.

"Yeah. But you're right," he said with a long sigh. "It's strange. We're... strange."

"Are humans inherently good?"

"I don't think anyone is inherently good," Sam said, and Jack straightened his posture, suddenly confused by his claim. "Every person – every thing, every living thing has – has the capacity for good and evil. It's really just up to the individual to decide which side they want to give into."

"Am I a good person?"

"First off, you're not really a person," said another voice from the doorway.

Sam and Jack both turned at the same time, meeting the eye of Dean, who had yet to change out of his bathrobe despite it being 2PM.

"Second off, you haven't been alive long enough to be a good person," he continued as he entered, an empty coffee cup in hand.

"Dean –" Sam began, only to be cut off.

"What? It's the truth."

The coffee machine buzzed loudly once Dean pushed a few of the buttons, setting his cup beneath the nozzle. He muttered something to himself before turning back to the kitchen table.

"Anything strange in the paper?" He asked, leaning against the counter.

"Maybe," said Sam.

He grabbed the paper again, delving into the details of a nearby missing persons case that soon faded out of Jack's state of mind. His thoughts were still absorbed in his existence, in his beginnings, and how they compared to the beginnings of humans. At least with angels he knew everything; that was how angels were born. Knowing everything.

Jack remained seated at the table when Sam and Dean left, still stewing in his thoughts that he imagined would never go away. It was half an hour later when the two brothers returned, this time fully dressed, and packed up on their way to the car.

"We've gotta go find some local records," Dean said.

"So we're headed to the library," Sam finished, and the two gave each other odd glances at the coincidental synchronicity.

"I was there a couple days ago," Jack said, suddenly perking up. "Can I come with you?"

"Sure, just don't get in the way," Dean said with a dismissive hand, already leaving the doorway.

Sam pursed his lips, letting out a bitter, almost apologetic chuckle before he followed.

He liked the middle seat. It didn't have a seatbelt, but he wasn't sure what seatbelts were for anyways, and the middle seat allowed him easy access to see both of the Winchesters. Dean never spared a glance in his direction while he drove, but Sam offered awkward, curt smiles.

Technically Jack could just fly to the library in an instant, but the drive into town was pretty, lined with the colors of autumn. Recently winds had taken up a more brisk edge, marking the absence of birds that flew in packs overhead. He scooted to one of the window seats, craning his neck awkwardly to look up and out of the glass, grinning at the ravens flying through the orange and gold trees.

The librarian showed the three men where the records were kept, directing them towards missing persons cases when they requested it. While Sam and Dean thumbed through the records, Jack returned to ancient history books, studying art and images from Vedic India.

There, amongst the carvings printed on soft paper, he found something rather odd. He stood from his position on the floor, still staring intensely at the print as he walked over to the table Sam and Dean sat at.

"Hey Jack," Sam said as he sat down, gently placing the book on the table. He scanned Jack's hunched posture before he asked, "something up?"

"I found something... strange," he said, his brow still knotted neatly above curious eyes.

"Yeah well, join the club, kid," Dean said with a groan, wiping his face with his hand.

Jack opened his mouth to ask what they'd seen, but Sam answered before he could speak.

"There's been repeated attacks, kind of," he said, waving his hand vaguely. "Once every ten years a couple of kids go missing. Always two kids, always on the same day of the year."

"And another anomaly," Dean said, reaching over to a stack of papers and slapping them on the table in front of Jack.

Big, black words displayed the newspaper title, and below it, the date of publishing. January 4th, 1967. The main article dealt with a concert happening in a nearby city, and the image printed with it displayed a number of concert-goers, most of them in their teens or early adulthood. Hidden behind several other people, a familiar face appeared––the librarian. Unhindered by time.

"Is that..."

"Big boots over there?" Dean asked, pointing with his thumb in your general direction.

You were sorting through a stack of books, but as Jack looked down, he found you were wearing rather large boots. The ends of your pants drowned in them.

"Do you think they're related?" Jack asked as he turned back to the Winchesters.

"Possibly," Sam said with a nod. "Bit early to tell. But, uh..."

Sam trailed off as his eyes focused on something past Jack's shoulder. He, as well as Dean, turned to meet your eyes that quickly darted away once all three of them were looking at you.

"I think I have an idea," Sam said.

Dean and Jack curiously tilted their heads to the side at the same time, though when Dean noticed that, he fixed himself immediately.

"I think they have a thing for you," he said in a much quieter voice.

"Me?" Jack asked, pushing his finger into his chest.

"Yeah. You could get a little closer and see if something's up."

"Are you seriously setting up Jack with a fuckin' demon, for all we know?" Dean asked flatly, earning an odd look from Sam, who had never heard Dean protest putting Jack in danger.

"Dean, Jack's dad is a demon-angel thing. I don't think it's a big deal," he said.

That seemed to shut the older Winchester up.

"Hm," Jack hummed as he debated the idea. "I also found something strange."

"Oh, right," Sam said, clearing his head with a shake. "What was it?"

"It was also... the librarian," he said with a deep frown. "In one of the books."

He pushed forward the textbook, opening it to reveal the page in which he'd found your face. The stone expression was remarkably similar to your traits, from the curve of your nose to the positioning of your eyes, and the small, polite smile on your lips.

"I found it in the history section," Jack explained. "It says it's from Vedic India."

A quick Google-search later, Sam was reading out the age of Vedic India.

"According to this it says the Vedic age was approximately around 1500 to 800 B.C., so... about 2,500 years ago."

"Wow, this fucker's old," Dean snorted.

Sam shot him a look over the top of his computer screen.

Having found the information they were looking for, the Winchesters began to pack up their belongings and their scribbled notes, shoving them into their bags or into their many-pocketed coats. Jack, on the other hand, prepared himself for talking to you, hoping his ineptness towards social situations with humans wouldn't be too obvious. He swallowed through the knot in his throat, taking a shaking breath in an attempt to steady himself.

It didn't work.

"Dean, what am I supposed to say to them?" He whispered when they were already approaching the front desk, his palms growing sweaty.

"I don't know, their job or something? Something normal," he very unhelpfully advised.

"Thanks for letting us stay for the day," Sam said with a polite smile, handing back one of the printed out records you'd fetched for them from beneath your desk.

"Not a problem. You keep quiet. I like that in a reader," you said, smiling back as you glanced between the three of them.

None of them moved, and your expression turned to mild confusion. Dean had to jab Jack in the side to get him to speak. He opened his mouth to protest, but Dean motioned something to Sam, and the two of them quickly left for the car, leaving Jack alone while they 'situated' themselves.

"I, um..." Jack started before he was ready.

The silence felt wrong, but the silence after saying something was much, much worse. Whatever came into his mind first would have to be what he said.

"I like your job," he said, keenly scanning your expression for any hint of your thoughts.

You paused, clearly taken back for a moment, before you broke out into a chuckle, looking down to your hands as your face flushed.

"I like it quite a lot, too," you said with a grin, looking back up at him. "I've always been interested in becoming a librarian. Granted, I didn't quite imagine it in Kansas, but it is pretty here."

"Where did you imagine it?"

"Greece, actually," you chuckled, and he smiled as well, his heart thumping with a sudden haste. "I was heartbroken to hear the Library of Alexandria was burned down."

"The Library of Alexandria?" He repeated, tilting his head to the side again.

"Haven't heard of it?" You asked.

He shook his head gingerly. Was he supposed to?

No matter––you explained in full what the Library of Alexandria was, when it was created, when it was burnt, and the loss it caused amongst human society. He listened intently, frequently asking questions you were happy to answer. When Jack glanced out the library window, he found the impala gone, and realized Sam's plan had, in a way, worked.

"Are there.. any books about the library?" He asked once you completed your short story.

"Yes, but I don't want to hold you folks up –"

It was then you looked out the window as well, finding the two large men had abandoned the smaller.

"Oh where'd they go?" You said in a curious, high voice.

"Don't worry about that, I... have a bus," he said, earning a strange look. "I am... I ride buses."

A beat of silence passed.

"So the Library was in Greece?" He asked, and your earlier mood returned.

You brought him––with much excitement––to one of the rows in the library filled with simple textbooks for primary school kids. Other rows of your well-tended library were occupied by old books, their bindings worn and frayed at the edges from continuous use. Pages were turned yellow and were soft beneath his fingers, but despite their age they were rather hard for Jack to read and understand, meaning his discovery of children's comprehensible textbooks was a giddy one.

Jack wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to be looking for when it came to you. What counted as suspicious? You continued to speak with him even after the sun set behind mountains, that could be a sign you were trying to gather information on him, as well. That could also mean you liked him. Was your friendliness suspect?

"- and the Phoenicians were really only called that by the Grecians. The name came from the purple dye that they're famous for, some root word for 'purple people' in Greek is Phoenicia," you explained, moving your hands expressively despite the fact that Jack's eyes were set dead on the textbook on the floor in front of you. Paragraphs of words surrounded modern depictions of ancient people and their art.

"So what was their actual name?" He asked as he looked up to you.

"Canaanites. From the land of Canaan."

"... you know a lot," he said, looking back to the page as you chuckled.

"It's just memory," you said with a shrug.

"Can I... can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do you know anything about mythical creatures?"

Surely this would reveal something, Jack thought––you might react poorly, in which case you could be the monster, or you might react in complete knowledge, which... could also mean you were the monster.

"A little," you said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"I have an interest, in myths and monsters," he said, almost smiling again.

"Oh man, I have a show you're going to love."

Far in the back of the library, a hollow, steel door led to a small break room, the carpet inside being a dark, scratchy grey against his palms when he sat down. There were no chairs in the room, but an old TV sat on a cheap cart plugged into the nearest, bare wall. On the opposite side of the TV was a dull blue counter that stretched from the door to a window covered by plastic shingle curtains.

You snatched the remote off the counter, pressing a large, red button that had the television buzzing to life loudly. The screen sparked, static radiating around it as a thin line of white brought life to a Netflix loading screen.

After several minutes of waiting for Netflix to load and then typing a title into the search bar, a show called Myths and Monsters was before him. He let out a laugh as he realized what had sparked the connection––he'd literally spoken the title.

Would an ancient being or monster know how to work a TV?

Castiel could work a TV.

Kind of.

The first episode began to play and you took a seat beside Jack, crossing your legs neatly beneath you. A few minutes in, rain pattered lightly on the roof, followed by sudden winds that battered the now pouring rain against the window. Jack watched through the side of his eye as you smiled at the change in weather.

That was suspicious.

Late in the evening, when night darkened the land and heavy thunderclouds darkened the sky, he left the library. He stood in the threshold between the warm light on your desk in the otherwise dark room, and the falling rain outside. Yellow-orange streetlamps illuminated the sheets of rain and the nearby bus stop, but you still stopped him, holding the door open as you both stood motionless in front of one another.

"I have a car, I can drive you home," you offered, gesturing over your shoulder to a door in the back that led to a private parking lot behind the library. "I'm not sure if the bus runs this late."

Extended time with you would be good, and he imagined your face illuminated by dim dashboard car lights would be better than good––great. Beautiful. You had wonderfully warm features. But you couldn't know where he lived for a number of reasons; if you were the monster, that was giving away a hiding place, and if you weren't, you would wonder why he lived in such a strange place.

"Thank you, but it's alright," he said. "I like the rain."

A small smile stretched across your plush lips.

"So do I," you said, and the two of you bid good-bye, retreating into your respective dark.

He gave a thorough rundown of the events proceeding after Sam and Dean left, and the three of them––Sam, Dean, and Castiel––listened closely. Dean already filled Castiel in on the rest of the case, and the two brothers were eating at the long table in the bunker's library.

They stared at him in silence when he finished.

"Sounds like a regular kid," Sam finally said.

"Ah don't be so sure about that," Dean said, raising a single brow. "What did you say the monster probably was?"

"A – a fae, or something," he said.

"Fae's good at lying," Dean pointed out, earning a reluctant nod from Castiel.

"He's right. Fairies are remarkably good at acting," he said in his low, grating voice.

"So... what next?" Jack asked.

"We'll keep looking into the case more, and you can probably ask the librarian out on a date," Sam suggested, earning an agreeing remark from Dean. "You can keep them distracted while we search their house."

"Do we know where they live yet?" asked Dean.

"No, but it shouldn't be too hard to find out," Sam said.

Jack watched the brothers for a moment, his mind emptying of answers as to what a 'date' was.

"What's a date?"

"Oh Christ," Dean muttered, moving immediately to his feet and leaving the room.

Sam let out an exasperated sigh at his brother, turning to Jack to explain what a date was, what were appropriate date activities, and how he should act when asking you out and when being out with you.

"Okay," Jack said with a nod despite not really understanding. "What are dates for?"

"They're between people who are interested in.. getting to know each other," Castiel said as he took a seat beside Sam across from Jack.

"So... like when Dean and I went driving."

"No. Not like that," Sam quickly said. "Not like that at all. If – if a guy is interested in a girl, like interested in having her be his girlfriend, then he might ask her out on a date. It's a romantic thing."

"The librarian does seem to be interested in you, from what I’ve heard," Castiel said with a pointed look in Jack's direction.

"I think you've got a shot," Sam agreed, nodding.

Jack thought for a moment before he said, "okay."

A few days later––Dean insisted he only try a few days later, saying anything less was damaging his honor––Jack returned to the library, lighting up when he found you were still working at the small front desk, your nose buried in a large box full of papers. Large, round glasses were hanging off the tip of your nose, and you pushed them up to your eyes when they slipped further off.

The door clicked softly shut behind him when he entered, scanning the room as if there was another reason he was there. You watched him the whole time, continuing to when he approached you, something obviously on his mind.

"I was wondering..." he trailed off, losing himself in your bright, expectant eyes. When he realized he'd fallen silent, he added the first thing that came to mind––a lie. "... if you could show me where the... books are."

You chuckled before you said, "which ones?"

"Maps," he said, smiling as he came up with something actually substantial.

Of course, it wasn't asking you out, but at least it was talking to you. He would have to do that later, though he supposed he'd have to do it that day or he would be disappointing the Winchesters and Castiel when he came back to the bunker without even trying to complete their orders.

"We don't really have a maps section, but I might be able to help you if you tell me the time and place you're looking for," you suggested for him, and he nodded slowly.

"Yes. Please."

"So what are you looking for?"

"Oh. Right, uh.. Greece and Mediterranean," he said, repeating subjects from the last time you'd spoken.

"Mediterranean sea?"

He nodded.

"What year?" You asked.

"Uh..." he drew another blank, "two... hundred."

You seemed reluctant to ask the next question, but it was necessary; "before christ or after?"

"... before."

"Alright," you said with a soft snicker, moving around your crowded desk area and towards the bookcases.

Your stride slowed as you approached a certain shelf, shifting up onto the tips of your toes to reach the highest books. Jack thought of offering his help, but he wasn't much taller than you––if at all––and he didn't know which books to get down.

Four thick books ended up in your arms, and you heaved them over to the nearest table, letting them thump down heavily. You spread them out, flipping rapidly through the pages till you found the proper maps you seemed to have memorized within each of the books.

"This one's about 900 BC to 200 AD, so it's got a bit wider of a range. Includes the bigger cities. This one is.. 1500 BC to 300 BC, so a little bit within range, has a lot more cities," you said, moving from one textbook to the next while Jack stared at you, enamored by your plush lips.

He barely even noticed that you finished your explanations, nor your quick words mentioning you should probably return to your studies and leave him to it. But he reached out on instinct, grabbing your wrist and tugging gently, convincing you to turn back to him. Your eyes, still bright, retained that same patient expectancy as his previous evening with you.

"I... could you talk to me?" He asked, oblivious to the implications read clearly by you.

"About what?" You asked in return as you stepped subtly closer.

"About fairies."

You paused, your eyes widening slightly.

"The ones from Celtic folklore or... like modern media fairies?" You asked slowly, slinking down into a seat you situated to face him.

He did the same, his feet planted firmly on the floor as he watched you, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Just... the oldest versions of fairies."

You nodded, again slowly as you pursed your lips.

"Well the oldest mentions of them in literature actually comes from ancient Greece, from the Iliad, by Homer," you began, immediately using your hands expressively as you spoke. "Those weren't Celtic fairies, though. Greeks considered creatures like satyrs and such to be fairies, as well, so... generally fairies and the fae as we think of them now came from Ireland and Scotland."

"Where are they?" He asked with a head tilt.

You stuttered for a second, your eyes flying across the room until you stood, returning to the shelves. He watched with much humor as you read the book titles at a frightening pace, fingers flipping over the bindings till you pulled one down.

"Here, world map," you said, and though he didn't notice, you didn't comment on the oddity of not knowing where Scotland and Ireland were. Almost everyone knew where those two countries were; or, at least, the general area.

"In Ireland fairies are seen as simply... mythical people. Great warriors and poets, or witches, they're all considered part of the fae in Celtic culture. In Scotland, though, fairies are more dangerous, essentially being creatures that feed off humans in one way or another," you continued. "Like... banshees, those are Scottish, and jack o' lanterns."

"Jack o' lanterns?"

He'd heard of banshees before; they were mentioned a few times by the Winchester brothers.

"Not like the Halloween pumpkins," you said, but when you were met with further confusion, you slowly said, "...and you don't know what those are either, do you?"

He shook his head reluctantly.

You spent the next two, whole hours talking to him, going over any question he had no matter how much you thought he should've known the answer to begin with. Jack relaxed into that feeling, into that ease, while suspicion grew in your own mind. There was no one of his age and stature that didn't know the questions he posed. Still, you found yourself unable to pin any such wariness of manipulation onto such a polite boy.

Engrossed fully in whatever you had to say and rarely speaking himself, Jack absorbed a number of facts about the fae. About their trickery and mischief, about their magic, how different species had different thoughts on humanity. Considering the lengths you knew about other subjects, none of what you told him occurred to him as suspicious. You seemed, again, to be a dedicated––but human––scholar.

When at last he exhausted his questions, both on and off topic, he began a build-up of courage. Asking someone out for a case should've been much easier than this, or at least that's what he thought. Dean mentioned he'd done similar things for other such cases.

Jack's face scrunched up in deep thought despite the silence between you.

"Are you alright, Jack?" You asked.

"Oh. I'm... fine," he said, nodding his head in a way that didn't convince you all that well. "I – I wanted to ask you something."

You nodded, gently helping him along.

"I know we don't know each other that well, but... you.. interest me, and.." he trailed off once more. It was difficult to tell a lie that was technically the truth. "I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. On a date."

He expected a number of things from you––perhaps anger, perhaps embarrassment, perhaps shock, but you just chuckled, leaning back in your chair. His brow furrowed at your odd reaction. Were you laughing at him?

"Was that what you wanted to ask me when you first came in?" You said through your giggles, your soft skin glowing in the warm, early evening light.

"... yes," he said, huffing out his own chuckle as his eyes fell to the floor. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize," you said with a grin. “You’re the one who had to listen to me ramble.”

"So.. will you..?"

"Yeah," you chuckled, nodding. "I enjoy your company as well."

A smile made a permanent home on Jack's face as he returned to the bunker, his official mission having been successfully completed, and his hands still burning with the touch you left as he walked out the door. While most of the town smelled like baking pies and cinnamon cider, the bunker carried no such warmth, and smelled more like rotting leaves than anything else, though Sam lit a couple apple candles in his room. The scent filled part of a long hallway.

He found his fathers all sitting on a single couch, facing a television that had some sort of film playing on it through the static. Jack silently stepped round the nearest chair, taking a seat beside them, and watching on intently. A soft, high note hummed from the speakers.

Red, ratted curtains pulled way for sunlight streaming through dust-filled air. The wooden windowsill had a vase in which a single, molted flower sat, most of its petals having fallen off long ago. But that wasn't where the camera stopped; it halted above the image of two women tangled in sheets similarly worn down as the curtains were, requiring many patches over large holes. One had their face pressed to the other's neck, her nose nudging a sharp jawline owned by still sleeping eyes. Their limbs were knotted tight together, chest to chest, and a quiet, sleepy melody humming out of the smaller's pale lips.

Jack frowned. He'd never seen two people so physically close together. The nearest thing he'd seen was Dean and Castiel hugging, and even that was reserved in a way. This was pure trust––pure peace, and he found himself wondering if it was entirely fictional, or if such happiness could really exist in the world that at times felt poisoned.

Maybe it did exist if you found a way to smile that brightly.

He earned a whole other course of schooling once he announced their plan was successful. Dean clapped him proudly on the back, shooting a dirty grin that Sam countered with clean praise. Even Castiel seemed to be proud. Jack beamed at that, his heartbeat now pounding at the thought of three days from now; when he had planned the date.

In the meantime, the brothers stayed up for most of the night, though they looked much worse for wear that morning than Jack after he stayed up with them. Researching faes was actually a little easier than a lot of other monsters––there were many articles about them, and a deeply-engrained fear of changeling children had led to thorough documentation on the fae realm and its inhabitants. Jack was still a little slow at typing, so Sam captained the computer research, while Jack sped through the books in the bunker's library. Dean looked through articles and stories in newspapers searching for any hint of where they children might be kept if they weren't immediately killed.

The more he read about fairies, about their habits, their composure, and their lies, the less he could picture you as one. Originally a fairy brought to mind someone beautiful and fair, or someone like you, with dazzling eyes that could stop an archangel in their step. But the sharp teeth and wicked, wirey hair didn't sound at all like you. He'd felt your hands––once brushing over his––and there were no claws or stinging sensations that lingered in your touch. Still, the Winchesters probably knew better than him, and he pushed the feeling aside.

In the next evening, after Dean took a long day nap, Sam and Dean set to packing up their tools and tricks once more, tossing them into the back of the impala with the rest of the permanent fixtures. Jack watched as they did this, his hair still neat and clean despite not sleeping or washing up for two days.

"Can I come with?" He asked in the politest voice he could manage.

They were headed off to the library under the cover of night. After hearing about several back rooms Jack noticed during his time there, a reasonable question was posed––was there more information you could be hiding?

"Uh –" Sam began, only to be cut off by Dean saying –

"No. If we get found, that's fine, but if you're with us, we lose your relationship with her."

Before Jack could reply Dean climbed into the drivers seat, followed by Sam clambering in beside him. He had issues getting into the car at times. The engine stuttered to life, and Sam waved good-bye through the windshield as they pulled and drove the car away.

Jack frowned, his brow knitted together again.

"Bye," he said, but he was the only one to hear it.

Castiel would be back soon. He decided waiting in the library would guarantee he'd see Castiel as soon as possible, something he desired, as there were a number of new questions he wanted to pose to the elder angel. Thousands of years his senior, Castiel must've had answers––some sort of insight to some strange impulses, or simply comfort against 'wrong' thoughts.

Technically your library was private, meaning others weren't allowed to take your books away from the building, but you allowed him to take something home under the assurance of a guarantee. He would return it next time he saw you, a promise that clearly meant a lot to you going by the ease that overtook you when he said 'okay' with a signature, sweet smile. The only reason you leant the book to him was because it contained information you considered thought-provoking, thoughts about how humanity evolves, and how technological advances could change the actual anatomy of the human mind. Some of the claims seemed to him to be a bit of a reach, but others brought him interesting points.

The metal latch on the door let out a resounding click as the door swung open, Castiel standing behind with wild hair and a stunned look about him. He flung the door shut before running down the stairs towards Jack.

"Have they gotten back from the library yet?" He asked as he approached.

"No, they left..." he glanced at the clock, "a couple hours ago."

"Hmm," Castiel grumbled. "That's a long time for them."

"Should we go help them?" Jack suggested, setting your book aside as he stood straighter in his chair.

"No, we'll give them some more time. See what happens," he said before he set off, jogging into the hall.

Jack sighed as he slumped back into his seat, almost mourning the death of an easy excuse to go see your library. And Castiel left before he could ask him anything. Dean had a point, though––if they were caught and he was with them, that would ruin your relationship entirely, and that was something he, for some reason, despised.

It took another hour and a half before Sam and Dean were waltzing back in from the garage, tossing their duffel bags aside and shucking off warm, autumn jackets to side chairs. Something must've given away their presence, as Castiel was quick to reenter the main room.

"How did it go?" He asked.

"Like shit," Dean said, not even bothering to stop as he passed Castiel.

"We didn't find anything," Sam clarified. "Whole place was clean."

"Well.. maybe it's at their house," Castiel said almost gingerly, turning to keep his ever-vigilant eyes on the elder Winchester. "All the tools and... stuff."

"Yeah, that's what we're hoping," Dean said as he disappeared into the hallway.

"When did you say your date was again?" Sam asked, turning to Jack, who blanked for a moment before he answered.

"Two days from now," he said.

"Alright, well... we'll see what happens," he said with a nod, setting his hands on his hips. "Hopefully find where they might be hiding the kids."

Dean reentered with a bottle in hand, taking a quick swig as he settled down into one of the cushier chairs.

Jack's heart sped when his fingers began to fidget together, squirming restlessly in front of him. Questions still lingered on the edge of his mind, and answers from anyone would do him well, though he was well aware Dean would probably be reluctant to offer any advice to him.

"Could I ask you some questions?" He asked in the general direction of Cas, who happened to be standing right beside Dean. Castiel opened his mouth to answer.

"Sure," Dean said before he could speak. Castiel promptly shut his mouth after that.

"I know this shouldn't get in the way of the case, and it won't," Jack said as he took a seat opposite Dean. He and his brother shot each other glances. "I just have strange... thoughts, when I am around the librarian. Impulses, kind of."

Dean, who had raised the bottle to his lips, paused at those words and set it down instead, a decision that shocked both Sam and Castiel.

"What kind of impulses?" He asked in a flat voice.

"I want to... eat them," Jack said slowly, his brow furrowed deeply as he looked at the ground. When he looked back up, all three men were staring at him.

"You want to what??" Castiel asked.

"Like.. put my mouth on them...?" He tried.

"Wait – you mean kissing?" Sam asked as he shifted his weight between his feet.

"N... no, I don't think it's that," Jack said, though he was growing even less sure of himself with how they continued to gawk at him.

"You want to make out with the fairy?" Dean asked with a look that screamed 'unbelievable'.

"Maybe?" was the best answer Jack could offer.

Dean sighed, rubbing his face tiredly with his free hand.

"I don't want to.. encourage these thoughts," Castiel said, "but they might help on your date."

"So I should kiss them?"

"Maybe at the end of it," Sam suggested.

"And... how do I kiss?"

"Fuckin' –" Dean muttered under his breath as he stood, leaving the room with annoyance in his scowl.

The three of them––Jack, Sam, and Castiel––watched Dean round the corner and disappear.

"Ignore him," Sam said.

Sam, with some help from Castiel, patiently re-explained the happenings and ongoings of dates, from conversation topics to activities often done on dates. Sam assured Jack that he needn't do anything dramatic, over the top, or especially original, since Jack 'wasn't actually going on a date,' a phrase that made him a little sad for a reason he couldn't identify.

A bouquet of chocolate roses lay in his hands, the neon and florescent lights of the convenience store flickering and buzzing above him. Sam insisted a good way to start a date was with a gift––conventionally flowers, but the second Jack saw the chocolate roses he was entranced. He'd never seen candy in the shape of something real. Surely you would be delighted by the art, as well. Sam was less sure than he was, but allowed him to buy it with a chuckle, muttering something about how he wouldn't need to get chocolates anymore.

"Now remember," Sam began as he adjusted Jack's collar, "blood-soaked iron is what kills them, but since we don't have that right now, I think iron should hurt them."

"Forks, fire pokers, metal pipes... those usually have iron in them," said Dean.

"And if you get into a fight, just get out of there," Sam finished.

"No hanky-panky, either," Dean said.

"Dean," he hissed, slapping his brother's arm.

"What's hanky-panky?" Jack asked, furrowing his brow.

"Nevermind, just––be safe, have fun," Sam said with a smile, patting his shoulder.

The brothers dropped him off at your house before circling the block in search of a good vantage point. He took a shaky breath as he climbed your steps, soon rapping his knuckles on the plain, wooden door. It was a bit of a task trying to swallow, but he managed to push past his tight throat and put a smile on his face.

Footsteps sounded, growing closer until the door opened, revealing your wide eyes and the olive green silk you wore, draping elegantly from your chest down to your feet. A heavyweight scarf rested upon your shoulders. The warm light of the hallway behind you illuminated the loose strands of your always messy hair, but the sight still had his lips parting as he gasped softly. He felt suddenly out of place in his simple button-down, pants, and everyday jacket, shifting his weight almost uncomfortably as he found himself at a loss for words.

"You look... really nice," he said rather awkwardly, gesturing vaguely to your outfit with a dopey smile.

"Thanks," you said, chuckling. "You look nice too."

He stared for another moment before he suddenly remembered the chocolate and foil roses in his hands.

"I got these for you," he said as he handed them to you, scanning every inch of your reaction. "Sam told me to get flowers, but I think this is better, ‘cause then you get to eat them."

"You actually can eat roses! They just don't taste very good," you giggled, fixing your hair as you took them, a blushing smile still on your face. "I do like chocolate more, though."

"Oh, good," he said, his shoulders finally falling from their tense position. "I hope you don't mind walking. I don't know how to drive."

"I like walking, actually," you said as you walked past him, trotting down the front steps of your house. He followed along, his soft brown hair flopping like a puppy's ears over innocent eyes. "I like taking walks at night, but I don't take them a lot. It's kind of dangerous."

"Why?"

"A lot of people aren't very nice, or they're down on their luck and make poor decisions. I don't want to get hurt or mugged just because I like wandering around."

"Why would someone hurt you? You're such a nice person," he said with a frown.

"That doesn't mean anything," you laughed softly.

Food wasn't a particular attraction of Kansas, but few things were. The amount of restaurants in town was high, most of them serving a very similar menu containing lots of meat, barbecue, pie, and sometimes funnel cake. None were all that classy, so Jack took you to a place that Sam recommended––a nearly 24 hours open cafe whose kitchen was always open, and who hosted quiet, live jazz on select evenings.

You and Jack spoke of a number of things while you walked, none more interesting than any of your previous conversation topics, as you seemed to want to stay on the topic of him as a person rather than the history you usually rambled about. You asked who Sam was, which he explained as one of his fathers, at which point you asked who the second was. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should tell the truth or formulate a more normal-person lie.

"I... my mother died in childbirth," he said, his voice uncharacteristically low and quiet, murmuring with the sureness of his trust in you. "My father, Castiel, takes care of me, with his brothers, Sam and Dean."

"Oh. I'm sorry," you murmured, and he opened his mouth to give the usual speech––it's alright, I've gotten used to it––but you continued with, "it's an honorable way to die."

He paused to absorb your words. No one had ever said that before.

"Yeah," he finally said. "I guess you're right."

"So what's your father like?"

He sucked in a breath, forced to once again decide between a truth, a half-truth, and a lie. Like with most things, he took the middle road.

"My genetic father isn't... I don't talk to him," he said.

"Oh."

"But Castiel is good. He always tries to do what's right. I'm still trying to learn about this whole.. being-alive thing, from him."

"I think we all are," you chuckled.

You ended up ordering for him when you finally got to the cafe, standing in line for only a few minutes before you were looking for a table. He had trouble understanding the menu, often asking you what things were, and eventually you had to gently push him on to let the next people in line have a turn. If this bothered you, it didn't show.

Piano and saxophone played in time with one another, their rhythms and melodies dancing around the beat of the drummer. Scant, warm light shone from above, illuminating the haze of clouds drifting from smokers, most of whom stood in the corner, nursing the embers as they watched the musicians play. Jack tapped his foot to the beat against the dark oak floor.

You joined him a moment later, two coffees in hand and your coat draped over your arm.

"Have you ever been here before?" You asked as you took a seat, casting your jacket over the back of the chair after you set the coffee down.

"No, I don't really get out much," he admitted.

"How come?"

"I don't.. really have friends," he admitted, again, though this time much more reluctantly. He'd heard that generally people respected you more if you had friends.

"That's alright," you said, leaning back with a soft smile made only more alluring by the dim, red and orange light. "I've found it's more fun to stay in than to go out sometimes. Everything becomes the same after a while. You can drink at home, you can dance at home, sing, host parties..." you sipped from your steaming cup, ".. so, obviously, I don't go out much either."

"You have friends, though?"

"Not really," you chuckled, glancing down. "Books last longer than conversation, generally."

"Then... why talk to me?" He asked, attempting to meet your eye with that knot still tucked into his brow.

"Because you came to me."

Soon your conversation was halted by a server bringing out your food. You made sure to thank him as he left, before hungry eyes settled eagerly upon your funnel cake. Unwrapping the napkin, you set the orange cloth on your lap, revealing your silverware. Jack followed your lead, copying your motions near exactly down to you rubbing your hands together excitedly.

He'd never tried funnel cake before, leaving him to melt as he took his first bite.

"Good, isn't it?" You chuckled through a full mouth.

He nodded ardently.

The crowd began to thin halfway through your meal, turning thick conversation to quiet murmurs confined to singular tables in corners and shadowed areas. Jack still had yet to find anything incriminating about you, an answer that led only to other questions, ones that flew wildly around his head.

You didn't seem human––at least, not entirely. There were things you said that hinted to something else, a knowledge within that was a little too wide for the lengths of a human mind. That and your soul; what he could see of your soul was strangely colored, florescent holographic, and warped far more than normal people's usually were––almost as warped as Sam and Dean's souls now were. Bright, yes, but warped. Something had happened to you.

But there was nothing bad within you. Darkness tinted the edges, the edges so often scraped by the world around you––the world around both of you––but the center within, where your heart emanated, was clear. It was actually rather beautiful; you were rather beautiful.

He wished he could tell you without seeming strange.

"What do you think about most, Jack?" You asked, pulling him away from his thoughts.

He instantly stuttered, as what he'd been thinking about was you, but he couldn't say that.

"Just.. uh, my, uh.. my place in the world," he said, tapping the end of his fork on the old wood table.

"Like your job, or your purpose as a human?" You asked as you sipped from your third refill of coffee.

"My purpose, sort of," he said, his eyes flickering to the ground. "I have a lot of responsibility. My father thinks I'm very powerful."

Was that giving too much away?

"What does he want you to do?"

"He wants me... to stay alive," he said, earning a soft chuckle from you that had a smile spreading across his own face. "I think he wants me to be safe and happy."

"That's a wonderful goal," you said with a grin. "And there are so many ways to achieve that."

So far he'd only found ways to achieve the opposite––how to antagonize the world by existing, how his grandfather wanted him dead, how his genetic father would use him for any power grab he posed. If you wanted to feel at risk of dying at any moment, he knew a thousand ways to do it.

"I haven't really found any," he said quietly.

You paused before you asked, "do you want my advice?"

He nodded, hesitantly at first, but sure of himself when you smiled softly.

"Always be kind to others. Mind your own business unless someone is getting hurt, and if you have to get your hands dirty, do it for only a second. Then get the hell out of there and wash yourself clean for the next hundred couple years," you said.

There it was again. A hint of something more. In passing conversations Jack heard from strangers, no one spoke like they lived history. Not like you did. And he'd wager no historian spoke with the sense of memory that you did.

"Anything specific make you realize that?" He asked, unable to stop himself from chuckling.

You looked his age––sometime in your 20's––but you spoke like an 80 year old. Something about that facade appeared humorous to him. He also looked your age––sometime in his 20′s––but he spoke like a 10 year old far more than he liked to admit.

"Family drama," you said dismissively. "I've been steering clear for a while now."

Did fairies have families?

Well, if you were a fairy, you could just be lying then.

Jack frowned. If Dean or Castiel were here, they would know what to say and think.

"I understand," was what he said instead.

The impala was still parked near the house by the time Jack was walking you home, a sight that nearly sent him panicking. Sam and Dean wouldn't want him to do that. So he clenched his fists in his pockets, his shoulders tightening ever so slightly as he tried to slow his pace in a way you wouldn't notice.

But you did. Of course you did.

"You alright, Jack?" You asked, matching his pace.

"Yeah, I just..." what was something normal to say? Something he could back up – "I meant to ask you something, but I didn't ever... find the time to."

"What was it you wanted to ask?"

He shivered as a brisk wind picked up, the dry, orange leaves on the edges of the sidewalk passing quick by his feet in the breeze.

"Do you think everyone feels this lost in life?" He asked, barely audible above the wind.

"There's a little bit of you in everybody, just like how there's a little bit of everybody in you. You're capable of the same things that a murderer is just as you are a... a hero, or a martyr," you said, taking time to think before you spoke. "Humans are remarkably similar, you come to see after a while. And even Gods face these questions, these wonderings of their origins and their purpose, if their creations are everything they're meant for or – or if they're doing something wrong, and they should be doing something else instead."

He continued to stare at the ground as you walked slowly side by side, brought out of his intense expression by something soft flopping over the back of his neck. His heart thrummed as you stopped him there, turning him to face you, and looking him in the eye as you fixed your scarf on his shoulders. The effect was instantaneous––his shoulders relaxed and the stress fell from his brow, absorbed in the warmth of your gesture.

"Whatever you're going through," you gave him a pointed look, telling him silently to not deny this truth, "is worse and better than what other people go through. It may not be the best but it's probably not the worst."

Your advice, though insightful, didn't mean much considering his problems had to do with the continued life or prompt execution of the entire universe by a bitter, old man. But the main point remained; there were more painful deaths than his, just as there were better ways to die than he would or will. He may not be facing the best circumstances, but they could be much worse, and the fact that normal humans often asked the same questions he did was more of a comfort than he thought it would be. Perhaps he really was connected to his mother in that way.

The steps creaked beneath your shared weight as you both approached the front door of your house. You opened the door, stepping partway through the threshold before you turned to him, hesitation lacing your open mouth.

Behind you, Jack managed to spot two shadowed figures running across the hallway towards what he presumed to be a back door. His eyes widened imperceptibly and he pursed his lips, quick averting his gaze back to you.

"You're special, Jack," you said quietly, scanning him with a careful look. "Don't let bad circumstances own you. You only get so much time in this world."

"You're very kind," was all he could managed to respond with. "Thanks for... going out with me tonight."

"Of course. I like talking to you."

"I'm glad you do," he said with a sheepish chuckle, one you mimicked as you fixed your hair.

"I'll see you again soon?"

"Yes, I – oh," he interrupted himself, remembering your scarf still enveloping him, "this belongs to you."

"Don't worry about it," you said, taking his arms and settling them back down to his sides. "It's kind of cold out tonight, and I'm assuming you're walking home... aren't you?"

"... yeah," he lied, blood rushing to his face at the thought of taking a piece of you home.

"Then I'll get it back another time," you said, smiling.

You hesitated to close the door again, and instead you gingerly moved forward, raising yourself to press a single, soft kiss to his cheek, the edge of it just barely touching his lips. His mouth parted in surprise, but before he could say anything you shut the door.

He walked back to the impala completely starstruck.

"I don't think they're dangerous," Jack said, restating what he'd said earlier to Sam and Dean on the drive home––he just couldn't see you as suspicious. Strange, yes, but not murderous.

"If what you say is true, though, then this is quite likely a fae," said Castiel as his eyes flickered from Jack to Sam and Dean.

"See? Facts are facts, kid," Dean said, pointing to Castiel with a smile.

"Hexbags, crystals, actual photos with them from, like, 1890? And the amount of plants," Sam continued with a slight shudder.

"How many plants were there?" Castiel asked, frowning sternly.

"Too damn many," Dean answered for him. "The point is, we gotta interrogate that thing."

"They didn't do anything wrong!" Jack said, his voice tripling without his knowledge.

Everyone in the room reacted accordingly––stiff postures and sharp breaths as the golden light faded in his eyes.

"Jack..." Castiel began hesitantly, his voice quiet and low.

He barely uttered out an 'I'm sorry,' before he turned and left, disappearing down the hallway and into his room.

It took him nearly a whole day to leave his room, having spent most of the time alone to brood and ponder over his actions, and whether or not he was being manipulated by a fairy creature. He couldn't deny the fact that there was a chance he was wrong and he was under your control, thus landing him with the only sane decision, somehow; trust Sam and Dean.

Silence surrounded him as he padded through the bunker, headed towards the kitchens after not eating for nearly 24 hours. Technically he could live without food for much, much longer than that, even without sleep, but it wasn't a particularly pleasant experience.

When he reached the kitchen he also found it empty. In fact, the whole bunker sounded empty, leaving all the cereal for him. He smiled.

Sam and Dean returned before Castiel did, though after their return they hid away doing 'private business' in the basement area. Jack tried to ask what it was they were doing, but Dean curtly brushed him off, sending him back upstairs to go clean up the mess they left in the kitchen after a quick, midnight dinner.

As he was scrubbing the dishes, a door lock clattered in the distance, marking Castiel's return. Now that the fort was manned again, he could sneak off to see you in the morning. Castiel informed him that showing up at people's houses at midnight could be seen in a very bad way. He knew you wouldn't judge him, but he still didn't want to embarrass himself, and it was only a few more hours to wait till dawn.

He could fly. He could also ask Sam or Dean to drive him (while he could also ask to drive Baby, he knew the answer would be an ardent no), but the grey clouds promised rain, and the smell of rain hitting the leaf-covered earth pleasured his mind. With your scarf wrapped around him, he could avoid the cold as well.

His feet were a little tired by the time your library came into view, though still warm in the crisp air from fuzzy, woolen socks. The frayed edges of your scarf fluttered about chaotically in the wind as he noticed something rather odd––the library wasn't open. None of the lights were turned on, the chairs were still atop the tables, and you were nowhere to be seen. He had left the bunker a little early, but you always opened by 5AM at the latest, and it was 8 now.

For several minutes he hadn't a clue as to what to do, meaning he stood motionless in silence in front of the glass door, his head tilting slowly to the side in confusion. Maybe you woke up late––that would explain it. You were perfectly safe in your bed, dozing after a good night's sleep, completely unharmed.

But things rarely worked out so easily for Jack. Your home was empty, no sign of your disappearance left as your shoes, jacket, keys, and wallet were still left by the front door. In a sudden panic at the thought of your absence, the world around him flickered for a split second before he appeared in the bunker's war room. Knowing the usual fate of the people he cared about, you were probably being hurt, perhaps kidnapped by the actual fae who'd been killing the children, or lost of your own volition in a forest you wandered too far into.

"Castiel." Jack grabbed the angel's coat sleeve, stopping him on the way to the stairs. "I went looking for the librarian and they're missing."

"Missing?" Castiel repeated with a grimace. "Did you check the library and the house?"

"Yes, I couldn't find them."

"They might be headed for the children," he said, sending a pang through Jack's heart that he ignored.

"Is... is there a way to track a fae?"

"There's no spell I know of," Castiel said, his gaze falling to the floor as he scanned his mind. "But if it's a magical creature, it may carry a sort of... a sort of scent."

"A scent?" Jack furrowed his brow, wondering if something could carry your scent.

Something you'd been around a while. Something like your books, or your bed, or –

Jack jumped after he realized he was still wearing your scarf which, despite its' time with Jack in his room, still smelled of you. He shoved it into Castiel's arms, but he only gave him a confused look.

"It's their scarf," he explained.

Castiel spared him from the embarrassment of explaining how he'd gotten it.

He held the crumpled scarf in his hand up to his nose, intaking a deep breath with closed eyes. Jack hadn't ever heard of this kind of tracking, which was odd since he inherently knew most things about angels, but he would never distrust his father. What he did distrust was the churning feeling in his chest, as though a curved knife had impaled itself in him and twisted slowly through his skin.

Doubts pervaded both angels almost immediately as Castiel followed the trail. It led near to the stairs, but took a harsh turn and went into the hallway, leading them further into the bunker.

"Are you sure this is theirs?" Castiel asked as they hurried down the hall.

"Positive," he said, earning a sigh and a nod from Castiel.

They continued, this time less sure of themselves, as the scarf continued to lead them through the bunker, trotting down stairs till they landed in the base floor. Here the walls, ceiling, and floor were made of thick cement, allowing their footsteps to echo around the empty halls.

Jack picked up the pace and Castiel followed, running after the trail that ended right in front of the dungeon door. The torture room door, where monsters were locked up, and sometimes friends as well. A sort of fury was boiling in his blood despite his earlier acceptance of the Winchester's plan. Keeping you here in secret was never something he agreed to.

Without even fully realizing it, Jack was wrenching open the handle, the door whizzing open and slamming against the wall with a resounding crack. There, in the center of a pentagram, you were bound to a chair with thick, iron chains, your molted form flanked by Sam and Dean. The latter carried a knife in his hand, one covered in dripping blood. Sam whirled around at the sound of the door opening, meaning he was the first to see Jack's glowing eyes, and the suddenly panicked expression on Castiel's face.

"What are you doing to them?" Castiel growled with wide eyes, taking long, quick steps over in front of you. Without hesitation he undid the restraints, letting you fall down to the floor.

"Cas, they're a fae," Dean said, his tone stern and curt.

"No, they're not," Castiel replied, his own voice equally as sure. "I can't.. blame you, for not knowing this. You're only human. But it's obvious to me."

Sam opened his crossed arms, waiting for the angel to explain himself. Meanwhile, Jack regained his composure after being shocked by Castiel's actions, and made his way over to you, kneeling at your side. You'd been cut in a few different places––nothing too grievous, at least not by Winchester standards––and drops of your blood painted streaks down your sweaty skin.

"They're an Old God," Castiel finally said, but the words were followed by silence.

"We're just supposed to know what that is?" Dean asked gruffly.

"I thought your brother might," he said in a quiet voice.

Dean unfolded his arms, shifting his weight as he cast a glance to his brother.

"Old Gods are... ancient deities created by wandering bands of hunter-gatherers in your past. They got their power from their worshippers, not from Chuck, which... made them very different, to say the least," Castiel continued, still keeping his voice soft as he raised his hand above several of your wounds, stitching the skin back together with his grace.

"I've heard of hunter and gatherers," Jack said as he recalled some of the books in your library. "They wandered in bands of around 50 to 100 people."

He earned several unimpressed stares.

"Well – if they got their power from worshippers, how's this one still alive?" Sam asked after a moment of silence.

"I don't know," Castiel admitted. "I've never met this one before."

"Okay, just because they're not a fae doesn't mean they aren't the one that killed those kids," Dean said, interrupting their short conversation.

The iron knife still twirled in his hands; the only weapon against fairies. Jack kept a close eye on it as they spoke.

"An Old God would never hurt a human," Castiel said with such an intensity that no one had any choice but to believe him. “And besides,” he turned back to you, “they would’ve lost their powers long ago when humans stopped believing in them.”

Your eyes listed open while you lay in Jack's hold, the swirling image of your friend coming lazily into view.

"... Jack?" You mumbled, struggling to keep your eyelids up.

His gaze shot down to you, eyes widening at the sight of your movement.

"Hey," he said softly, hushing you when you tried to speak. "Are you okay?"

You mustered your strength to nod.

"I'm assuming you're an agricultural God," Castiel said after a moment of watching the two of you interact. "You look to be around 12,000 years old." He looked up to Dean and Sam. "That's how old agriculture is."

"Yeah, I know," Sam scoffed, but Dean remained silent.

"Do I really look that old?" You asked, laughing through your slurred words.

"Your soul does," Castiel answered.

You hummed weakly in response, drifting back into unconsciousness, your body going limp in Jack's arms.

Jack healed what remaining injuries you had, using it partway as an excuse to touch you. His palms set flat on the cuts, and with you far off in your dreams, you didn't feel the burn or the relief of his healing. He thought first to bring to his room to lay you on his bed, but Sam gently suggested that you should be put in one of their many spare bedrooms.

Castiel and the Winchesters attempted to take his mind off of you, but it wasn't long before he was back at your side, waiting for you to wake up again. He scanned your body constantly with his mind, searching for any hidden injuries he might've missed the first time around. The case remained unsolved, the children still missing and the culprit unknown. Your disqualifying left the Winchesters with no more suspects, but Jack couldn’t bring himself to worry about a creature that wouldn’t strike again for another ten years when you wouldn’t wake up to his voice calling your name.

It took hours until you stirred again, eyes fluttering into a half-open state as they fell to Jack. He had his head hung low, his elbows leant on his knees, and his hair drooping in front of his face.

"I was created in Turkey," you rasped out through a dry throat.

At the slightest sound his head shot up, eyes widening with a spark upon seeing your soft smile.

"It's a country, by the way," you mumbled, correctly assuming Jack didn't know the country, and only knew the bird. "At a place they call Gobekli Tepe, now. The people of the land would... would gather there, and share their cultured seeds, and the magic needed to make them grow."

"Magic?"

"Simple water and sunlight," you said with a weak chuckle. "It was magic to them. Everything was."

You fell silent before you said, "I miss them."

"Were they different? From people now?" Jack asked.

"Very," you nodded assuredly. "But there are some people, nowadays, that remind me of them."

He chuckled quietly. Warmth spread from your touch when you reached forward, just barely gracing his hand with yours. He took the initiative, entangling your fingers together, and watching intently as your thumb ran over the back of his hand.

"You are a new God, aren't you?" You asked, narrowing your eyes curiously, with no sense of hostility.

"I'm... I'm a nephilim. Lucifer's son, actually, but I promise I'm not like him," he said, gripping you tighter.

"A nephilim?" You asked with a frown.

"The son of an angel," he clarified.

It was the first time he was able to tell you something you didn't know instead of the other way around.

"I've never heard of angels."

His brows raised in surprise.

"Really?" He asked.

"I haven't really kept up with the world as of recent. When did angels first appear?"

"I... don't know," he said after wracking his brain and finding no answer. "Castiel might know."

"Castiel.. Castiel, that was your father, right?"

"Yeah. The good one," he said, earning a chuckle from you that brought a blush to his face.

"He is another God?"

"Another angel, yes," he nodded. "(Y/N), I... I have so many questions for you."

"About what?" You asked skeptically, giving him a playful glare.

"About humans, mostly," he said. "I mean, I've already been asking you questions, but now I know you have a lot more answers than I thought."

"Yes, well, I do keep my memory stored in a mushroom," you muttered beneath your breath.

Jack frowned. Was that normal?

"Can you tell me about them?" He asked, just barely masking his eagerness.

"My people?"

He nodded, and you smiled softly, your eyes glazing over as you recalled thousands of years past.

#jack kline x reader #supernatural #spn #jack kline

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soranihimawari · 3 years

Text

...Chimera & Jackal...

@m0nstergeneration20xx & @sakuric bc my brain said let’s do a sakusa story at midnight.

There is an album in your gym neighbor’s hands. He is clutching on to it like a landline; there is an audible hum rising around him and the scowl he wears deepens.

“If you stare long enough you might turn to stone.”

Your voice crescendos around his aura and he finds himself visibly relaxing. You’ve been in enough classes with him to know the visible signs of a sensory overload break coming through, so you walk toward the information desk in the concourse you’re in, passing the venue banner. you maneuver through the crowd like the worker bee and pretty soon, he understands what you were doing.

When you reach the other side of the concourse, you turn around with an approving bop of your head when your eyes meet. You flash a toothy grin at him and he momentarily blinks. The hands on the album becomes ironclad as he begins the arduous journey to meet you.

“Miss me already?” you chuckle at the way his brow furrows when his cousin snickers at the way you’re slowly changing each other for the better. You let the cousins know you’re heading out after Komori suggests you join them for dinner at the family estate.

“It’ll be fun. It’s scrabble night,” komori informs you. His cousin on the other hand, yells through his eyes at his ex-captain. You entertain the idea of attending, but at the same time, you are considerate to the pillar who seems like he’s about to die of you accept, so you do what you do best: you say a word which is recognized with the scrabble dictionary.

“Adipopexia,” you say the word with ease. Your tone is warm and vibrant, thus causing a small change in tone. You don’t know what kind of game Komori is playing, but you feel he loves to make his cousin a little more accepting of the general public.

“If you’ll excuse me boys, I have a meeting with my thesis sponsor. Text me later if you need me!”

What you don’t see if the way Komori chuckles at how flushed his cousin’s cheekbones turn as you wave from across the promenade on your way to the liberal arts office building.

☆+ ﾟ. ꕤ.+ .ﾟ*.ﾟ｡ﾟ ♡｡. +ﾟ｡

A month passes and finally you stare at the giant iron gate in front of the largest estate you have ever seen. You had half a mind that this was a prank and the tiny houses in the surrounding neighborhood was where the Sakusa/Komori residence truly was. Then you decide to take out your phone from your purse thereby tempting fate when you press the sequence of digits both of them send you (the first time, you thought Komori was really joking, but when your phone receives a confirmation from the other, you close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose.)

Currently, it is eleven thirty on a Saturday morning. You mutter a curse as the gates truly do open before you and you follow the path through the front lawn. In your hand, you hold a congratulatory card for your fellow (thesis candidate partner) classmate after news traveled he was signed to a professional team. An accidental panic sets in because of your simplistic style choice of tapered indigo pants and graphic tee (paired with ballet flats). Your hair was pulled back into place with a banana clip, so you weren’t expecting the house door to be answered by a professional housekeeper whom you mistake for a family member.

“Who are you?” Her voice is a mixture of annoyance and false kindness.

“I’m a friend of Komori and Sakusa? From the university down the road...?”

Invoking the name of the young men of the house did not dwell well with this lady. You were still denied entry, so you apologize a first time after the third attempt. You extend the card in your hand sighing with as you turn on your heels to leave the premises leaving it in her care.

Inside, the first floor is filled with a few sponsors along with fellow members of the team are seen conversing with their new player who remains oblivious to your sauntering off his father’s home. Komori sees the house keeper holding a card which she is abut to place in the recycle bin, he asks her why she turned away the celebrant’s friend at the door. He takes the card from her and works his way to where his cousin stands in his business-casual attire.

“Excuse me,” Komori interjects. “I need to borrow Omi, for a second.” He explains what happened on the way to the garage entrance reassuring him he’ll bring you back and clear up the misunderstanding.

“In the mean time, you should read the card they got you, ‘Snake-Eyes.’”

Sakusa Kiyoomi only allowed one person to call him that when they met him on orientation day; they were the same one who taught him what adipopexia meant. And when his phone rings, Sakusa hears your voice through the receiver.

“I’m with Komori-San right now, but he wanted me to tel you our eta is ten minutes. Is that ok with you?”

That question was the first easily answered one in a long time for him.

When Komori walks back into the main house, you have to do a double take. You’re a few paces behind him before you hear a rather rambunctious group of voices around the corner.

“Komori! There you are! We were looking for you,” his aunt greets. “Seems like you forgot to introduce us to your friend there.”

You straighten your back and relax your shoulders a bit before sticking out your hand which goes unshaken, so you smile as you play with your own wrist.

“My classmates call me Chi.”

“Ah like the auras?”

You walk past her after Komori stares at his parent for their rudeness. Sakusa and the other players see you and judging by the angered expression on his face, you weren’t going to back away from this woman.

“Mother, please. Not now.”

“My name is Chi, ma’am. It’s short for Chimera, the Greek monsters which breathe fire and traditonally are depicted in the arts with a lion’s head, goat’s body, and serpent tale.”

Sakusa looks to Komori who just shrugs it off like it’s the best damn thing he heard all week.

“You’re a rude little thing, aren’t you?” she seethes as you keep your composure. “Where did you learn to speak like this to someone above your station?”

“The moment you brought down the collective intelligence quotient of the entire neighborhood ma’am. Maybe we’ll meet again on scrabble night when you’re done day drinking to your success.”

Komori has a hard time keeping a straight face while Sakusa’s expression is hard to read, you could tell he was trying not to chuckle at your clever wit.

“I should of recorded that,” Komori says. “It’s about time someone else put that woman in her place.”

“Your mother is wild,” you chide. “Is that why you asked me to come to scrabble night?”

“Nah,” Komori answers. “I was just tired of hearing Omi talk about you like you’re the only one he cannot function properly around.”

“I like him too,” you say as Sakusa starts walking toward you with the newer members of the MSBY team. Everyone on the rookie and senior roster were eager to introduce themselves to the outspoken student with a mighty name.

☆+ ﾟ. ꕤ.+ .ﾟ*.ﾟ｡ﾟ ♡｡. +ﾟ｡

You don’t often find yourself inside the MSBY training grounds, but this was at the request of the captain and the manager. Apparently their starting setter called out Sakusa for not being able to hit his sets and somehow that spiraled into the two of them not syncing up the rest of practice. From what you gather with the information presented, you knew the setter would bounce back first the following day, but Sakusa, who still keeps mostly to himself, does not budge. He elected to stay behind for a little while after to collect his thoughts.

You are given a family and friends badge to clip on the collar of your jersey styled dress (you had a dissertation presentation to attend earlier that day, so here you arrive with a metallic jumpsuit and jacket). You sent a text to Sakusa’s phone letting him know you were invited to come. You hear the rhythmical combination of plays being made in center court. You arrive in time to see your classmate nail an close cross-shot with a loud thwack!

Presently Sakusa walks side by side with you back toward his apartment. You think nothing of it when you ask him to come inside when you reach the fancy building in this district. You listen to him complain about everyone including the damning things Miya had said to him during practice. You figured you let him vent as you were recently still getting better acquainted outside of academia as a whole. You switch the conversation topic to a foolish once:“Mmhm,” you muse. “You do like my company Omi.”

Instead of a proper answer, Sakusa Kiyoomi opens the door of his home behind you as you step back into his home. It takes an insane amount of control on both of your parts before you see the athlete pull down his mask to finally act out what he was feeling since he had properly been introduced to you on campus in your joint third semester. His lips touch your Cupid’s bow first because of your height difference, but you shake your head with a soft smile.

“Care to do that again?” He asks you in a playfully menacing way.

His bag lands in the floor prior to leaning forward again and he drops his center of gravity as though he’s about to receive a serve from his captain.

“Sakusa, I swear to you if I—ack!”

The surprise lift he has you secured in was irratic on it’s on accord, but when you adjust your arms and place them against his shoulders, Sakusa nearly growls at the contact.

“My lips are right here,” you chide. Tilting your face to your left, Sakusa manages to successfully kiss you this time.

First kisses are a difficult thing for anyone to navigate, yet there is a veil of innocence surrounding you both since you teach him that showing displays of affection is a love language you are fluent in and his, on the other hand, is touching the subject of desire aka you. And so one kiss turned to two, which turned to three as you let him walk you to the kitchen that has an island counter and he tells you to sit still for a moment.

“You’re being awfully affectionate today,” he tells you this in confidence. You sit atop the granite surface expecting him to kiss you senseless, which he does the moment your hands bring him down to press chaste kisses up and down your collar bone.

You accidentally moan his name into his ear when his nose tickles the nape of yours neck.

“I’ll kiss you for real princex,” the slight growl is there again. “I’ll kiss you until you’re breathing stops.”

If anything, you relearn a few things: one, Sakusa Kiyoomi comes from a successful family; two, he’s insanely dedicated to playing volleyball ; and right now, he’s thoroughly enjoying kissing you in the comfort of his own home.

“Sakusa, is~ahh~ are you formerly asking me to be your lover right now?”

Sakusa pauses his onslaught of wanting to mark you with his lips for a moment, so he nods sheepishly. Your smile is radiant the moment you accept his proposal he almost loses his composure entirely. There is time for that too, but for now being drunk in love in his kitchen is a good start.

#🌻— flying around collecting pollen—queue #sora scribbles #🌻.txt #sora after hours #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa scenarios #msby signing party shenanigans

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renaer-is-allegedly-hot · 4 years

Text

session 15 notes

Ok true crime as in my new addiction is true crime podcasts specifically about serial killers

Back to the session

After getting a bit of a reality check from durnan about the supposed strength and power of the xanathar guild…

Protected our home w glyphs of warding

Last day of our contract

Spell is set to fade soon

Asyna is feeding ot

Ot looks at asyna like he's a cornered animal

"ot here's some meat"

Why is krystal roasting me about my lover

He wants poison

Ot is calling his jailers idiotic

Oh no aerana might be spilling beans

I really shouldn't be allowed to play games

Because I will always turn to the chaotic evil character

Aerana isn't giving anything up

Theo tells us about the plumbers who came over last night

Aerana is going to typ, rest of party is staking out house

Shifts to watch ot, adam takes front, asyna tower lookout (it's foggy tho so perception check at disadvantage, 9; city looks a little eerie in the fog)

Cel puts immovable rod across cellar door

Ot is suspicious whenever cel comes in

"you cannot fool me xanathar"

Cel making theo a new cloak

Ot asks cel when he'll turn him into dust

The xanathar can turn ppl into dust

Flare ?

Is flare the brain boy ?

I don't like the energy we've created around the word "enlightenment"

Cel rolls 18 insight check

Ot doesn't think cel is cel

Cel is gonna just vibe witth him

"WHEN U SLAY ME I WILL THINK NOTHING BUT HATEFUL THOUGHTS"

Sorry didn't mean caps but too lazy to fix

Everyone else

Adam in front hissing at neighbors and cats, 7

Hears pavement scuffle, someone approaches and reddish gtray beard person w non-descript gray cloak approaches; trench

Doesn't remember cellar and plumbers guild coming by night before

Trench says he can help

Help get bar open

Used to drink there a lot

Gets parchment and quill with ink

Rolls insight to see if bar was only thing he wasd interested in, 13, trench seems v interested

Works in surveillance, protection

Gives him cel and theo's name "5 copper please"

Gets 5

Adam picks his nose

Theo patrols entrances

13 for perception

Overlaps path w adam's

Aerana to typ

Afternoon when there

Similar pattern to those there; frequent patrons

"if I'm making up words, it's not really hitler"

8 perception

Place feels open, not as packed as it usually is

Still feel sensation of cold from the well

Wizard w pointy red hat a regular

You see goliath wizard talking to a dwarven woman

Aerana sees an elven man (bard) w "ugliest guy you've seen in your goddamn life" dom says but only after we point out he looks like legolas, tuning a lute

Sense you've seen him before

The wellllllllllllllllll

It is better told by a bard

Some patrons old and strange, others just like to drink

But ritual in the storytelling

Durnan built

Gwyliam

Talking in elvish

Place formerly not too populated

But one of durnan's ancestors came over to build upon it and discovered the well

Network of tunnels underneath

20 for history check

Familiar with some of what he's saying

Parents would throw you into the undermountain if you were bad

Undermountain = stirs weird memory in your head

Being told as a child stories of undermountain

Deep dark fearsome place

Mt waterdeep wizard came here once named hallister the black cloak

Hallister - ppl don't know where he was from / if he was real but legendary

Brought apprentices trained in magical arts

Tunneled on peak of mt waterdeep

Legend of undermountain could not be verified as truth

Durnan's ancestor came to typ

Climbed into well

"I wouldn't bring this up around him" - doesn't talk abt

When ancestor returned was fabulously rich

Split money with best friend

Built typ

Occasionally engages in ritual of going

No one truly knows what lies in undermountain but there's something there bc some return but most do not

"it might just be the sewer" - "but don't tell anyone I said that"

Differing renditions

Some say durnan was the one with magical powers and killed everyone in there, or more nuanced speaking only of tragedy of those who return who come back fearful or returning with smaller parties; others talk more of hallister and argue over his life; every night a different story

Ask if he knows anyone who's come back

Gestures to half-orc in corner playing variation of solitaire; great celebration when he returned, he came back with riches

He is a regular

21 history check

Undermountain

Familiar name

"Deepest dungeon of them all"

When sewers were built many passages abandoned bc other halls + passages found, many teams from cellars and plumbers guild died during construction of the sewers

Prisoners often thrown into "undermountain"

Says even tho he's here most days there's still stuff he doesn't understand about it; new community reforged every night

At some point durnan talking to wizard and having a conversation which is odd ? Eventually wizard looks at aerana (old man) skinny pointy red hat

Wizard squinting at aerana then turns back to conversation

Try talking to half-orc

Interesting plated beard almost like that on dwarves wrt ornamentation; jewelry running through it

Wiry half-orc

Not skinny but muscled

Weird tattoos covering one side of his face looking like they change a little bit

Balanced a little precariously

Ask if he wants to play a two-person card game bc he's playing solitaire

Ask for his favorite game, Skipper (slapjack)

Dexterity check

5, 20, 10

First round you lose, his fingers have strange looking rings beautiful but rough-worn bands of steel or other heavy metal

Second you win

Third round he takes

"say not many people can beat me in that game"

"luck favors the bold"

In the well

Hell but now look at him can gamble all he wants

City of balder's gate

Large city rough place to grow up

Turned into rough child living on streets

Says his name is Sand

Balder's gate warlords make life difficult so he decided to leave

Was found in youth by someone who turned his anger into smth holy

Ran into thieves and plunderers of forgotten relics, became brother and sister and decided to take on deepest dungeon of them all

Horrible things - asks if you've heard the song

The yawning portal song

Not many people know the full tale

Was taught to be skeptical (it's in his nature or maybe his name)

Not sure how long he was in there or didn't know when he was in there

No light

Tunnels are confusing and without it would've been lost; found room with throne with snakes for arms

Great hallway with ancient trap

Living things also in there; all manner of beasts and creatures; ppl don't come back bc of those

Killed goblins down there but after the things he's seen and after the things he'd had to do could've gone with killing a few more goblins

Advice ? Some will sell maps of what they found or what they think they've seen; anyone can tell u abt beasts down there

Durnan wouldn't lower us down

Durnan doesn’t send ppl to their deaths

Durnan lowers people he deems worthy

Strong brave smart fast bold enough or some combo

But even then not everyone comes back

It's a place of death

Not buying him lunch lmao

Has broken into dangerous old elf dungeons like in the ones up north and would do it again if he could unsee some of the things he saw down in the well

A place of death but things move in the shadows w tombs down there and tunnels for miles hallways great and tall, treasures, beasts keeping it for themselves

Ask about tattoos

Gift from master

The person who saved him in balder's gate

Steeped in magic of shadows

Powerful bc he is strong but qi is stronger still

Aerana gets back home but starts to rain heavily

Ppl still patrolling

Adam

Sees drow ? W purple colored eyes silver-ish hair hiding weapons under his cloak steps up and says "pardon me" and asks if adam's seen a cat

Large cat - would've know if saw it

Adam sends drow to trench

Adam gives him good up and down look, can he see weapons ? Carrying two cinotaurs ??? Sinotaur ???? Adam rolls insight for cat

14, seems like he's talking abt a cat

Heads off to trench

Asyna in watchtower guessing ppl's names

Cel and theo switch

Theo says hi to ot, ot curled up in corner

Whispers "hey ot what's up"

Says he should've gone with his gut on the day theo arrived

"dark elegance" "the way you glided into the room" - ot on theo

Ot says he knows how the xanathar pays theo

"I guess seeing you was a realization of my deepest fear" a fear he couldn't name or place or knew he had but out of the darkness theo stepped forward

"I'm curious . How long do you leave your victims like this"

Ot starts to cry and says he would beg her to keep him in this place

"this voice you're using I find it sweet"

"I just don't want to wake up before the end"

Theo is gonna get him food

"the poor dead tiefling told me yesterday"

7 insight

Theo does not know what's happening

Says the water theo gives him looks real

Looks at the wall drinks some water

"and it tastes real"

We kinda fucked ot up LMAO OOPS

"I know that you don’t have a heart… but if there's any chance that anything I've ever said or thought about you could take root in your soul"

Theo says she'll consider his request

Sits there for a half hour then asks if that's her real name

"nithlur" or smth like that

Nihloor

"where'd you hear that"

In his head lmao

What if this is like

A tapeworm

In his head

"what does knowledge taste like"

Asks if it's a feeling or a thought

Theo says it's a feeling

Ot says whatever knowledge is it's valuable to the right thing

Wonders if he can take a nap

Gonna take a nap

Adam forgot he made ott think he was dead

Aerana is taking over for theo

Adam takes first watch

Perception check, 22

Raining ohp so at disadvantage gotta do it again

New roll, 12

Rain is still falling

Hears a weird noise coming from outside the house

Uses thaumaturgy to boom voice saying "wake up"

Everyone sleeping wakes up

Goes toward sound

Hears weird growling noise

Goes semi-toward noise w pyrotechnics prepared; darkvision does he see anything

Sees shape

It's not the cat

Unfamiliar, looks like it's flying but more like it's floating

Bobbing up and down in air

Creature w large glassy eye and sagging mouth w lots of sharp teeth

Sticking out from form are eyes attached to a slug protruding off it w glassy eyes hanging off it

Intense stench making icky moaning noise

Adam shits his pants

It's big

The size of its mouth is human size

I've been listening to serial killer podcasts all day

#dnd #d&d #sn #15 #oh god

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seolcs · 4 years

Text

°✧｡× : ( moon gayoung + cis female + she / her ) ─── welcome to roselake village , SEOLA LIM ! oh , well , i suppose you’ve been here for ALL YOUR LIFE , so perhaps you already know your way around the town . well , you are the TWENTY THREE year old LIBRARIAN , though , right ? the harvest sprites told me about you ! they said you DO believe in the harvest goddess . oh , my . well , that explains why they also said you’re quite BEWITCHING and SEDULOUS , but can also be a bit ENIGMATIC and MERCURIAL . either way , you should be a wonderful addition to our island ! i guess i’ll leave you to it now , but if i need you , i suppose i’ll just look for you at THE MAGIC SHOP , yeah ? we hope you love it here as much as we do ! oh , and remember not to go into the tulsy woods ! the distorted hum of opera music just out of reach , dirt caked underneath fingernails , eyes that know more than lips tell ! ✧

━ ˙ ˖ ☆ QUICK STATS !

full name : seola lim .

nickname(s) : lala ( yea like the teletubby ... it was a childhood nickname </3 )

zodiac : pisces sun , virgo moon ( click ! )

sexuality : bisexual .

occupation : librarian & witch .

birthplace : roselake village , maine .

current residence : roselake village , maine .

━ ˙ ˖ ☆ BACKSTORY ! ( tw : vague mentions of an accident )

she’s a fraternal twin <3 if u read julie’s intro u know , but seola and sora are the daughters of roselake’s mayor ! she was born a whole ten minutes after her sister so she takes pride in not being the hag ... sora is so brave for her sacrifice

so their dad is the mayor ! he’s been roselake’s mayor for a while now , keeps getting reelected bc why fix something that seems to be working right .. aha more about that later ... & their mom is a witch ! only on the down low though , she’s not open about practicing magic & is much better known for and adored for her philanthropy around roselake ! both sora and seola have the ability to use magic , but while the gift seemed to come naturally to sora , seola high key struggled with it /:

their mom was a very patient teacher but that didn’t stop seola from feeling inferior to both her sister as well as her powers in general . she very much felt like a big flop , and as a kid & preteen she struggled a lot with jealousy and frustration and just feeling second best in a sense ? basically she really felt like she was letting everyone down when in reality the only person who was putting pressure on her was herself

in good old 2010 ... 13 year old seola & sora snuck into tulsy woods ( even though their dad always said never to go in there ) to play around with their magic , got into an argument , and that’s when seola accidentally ended up hurting sora really really badly ):

after the accident seola wanted to give up magic forever , but her mom convinced her that the best way for her to get over her fear of ever hurting someone again was to practice . so while sora got closer to their father , who had covered up the accident in the woods and used it to spread his own agenda , seola got much closer with their mom

determined to get better at controlling her abilities and also super terrified that she’d hurt someone like she’d hurt her sister if she didn’t , seola practiced and practiced ... then she practiced some more . while most people her age were going through high school focused on going to college afterwards , seola was counting down the days til she’d be free to do nothing but learn as much as she could about being a witch

it was around this time she also started to get ... suspicious about her dad and his intentions . she was grateful that he didn’t tell the truth about the accident , scared ppl would have viewed her as a monster if they knew what really happened , but the way her dad was acting about tulsy woods was super suspicious especially with everything happening with the harvest goddess and the sprites . basically ... seola suspects he might have something to do with whatever’s going on in the woods ... 👁️👁️

after high school seola stayed in roselake ! she didn’t go to college like sora , much to her dad’s dismay , but she did take some online classes here & there ( mysticism and rituals , alchemy , some history ones , as well as a medieval monsters literature class ... just for fun <3 ) she also snagged a job at subtext as a librarian , mainly for that sneaky access to all the secret garden books

initially she’d just been curious about her own magic , since she knows it doesn’t come from the harvest goddess like a sprite’s magic does , but with everything going on she’s extended her research to include both the goddess & the sprites to see if maybe she can understand whatever her dad is trying to do in roselake

━ ˙ ˖ ☆ PERSONALITY + TIDBITS !

not 2 be cliche but she really is a mysterious girl SJDBWJBDJW since she’s haunted by the idea that she’s essentially always on the brink of losing control and hurting someone again like she did with her sister , she’s got a very elusive personality . she tries her best not to get too close with anyone , but unfortunately for her it’s the kind of cool and detached air about her that usually makes people curious to know her , especially since her twin sister is so seemingly open & very focused on her reputation in roselake . seola’s always tells herself stuff like oh to be a fly on the wall ... 😔 but the reality is she doesn’t want to be invisible to people at all , she’s just traumatized from the accident in tulsy woods /:

so you have her enigmatic persona ... versus her deep desire to be understood and loved despite whatever dangerous and uninhibited thing she’s convinced lurks around inside her . yeah ... she’s not so good at following her own don’t get too close with people rule SJDBWJDJW most of the time what ends up happening is her pushing those who are already close away , only to reach for them again later , only to push them away ... you get it . it’s easy to write her off as a moody rich girl if you’re not in her circle , but it’s deeper than that

she’s got a bad habit of fixating on things and then letting them consume her . sometimes it works to her benefit , like focusing so hard on practicing her magic and finally becoming good at it . most of the time , though , her curiosity morphs into obsession , and it’s very easy for her to get overwhelmed and feel lost

she has a big old soft spot for creepy or spooky things and people , 100% believing that more often than not the stuff we’re afraid of is stuff we just don’t understand . sometimes , though , her attraction to the “ dark ” is a manifestation of her own internalized belief that there’s something wrong with her & that she’s just as capable of bad as she is good ... cannot believe freud just possessed my body like that 😳

if she was an animal she’d for sure be a cat JSBDJWBDJW comes & goes as she pleases ... affectionate & warm on her own terms ... sometimes she brings people weird gifts that are only really gifts in her eyes ... yea <3

high key has a huge guilt complex bc of that juicy unresolved childhood trauma ! that and the fact that she’s pretty sure her family is responsible for hurting so many other’s in roselake ... it’s a lot . so even though she’s not as warm and friendly as sora is , she’s just as kind ... maybe even too kind sometimes , she just feels like she has a lot to prove & make up for yk

voted most likely to dump you & say it’s not you , it’s me ):

big fan of creating ambiance she’s all about turning of the big lights and turning on a lamp ... maybe lighting some candles if she’s feeling crazy idk ...

if you don’t know she’s a witch you probably think seola’s about to drop the hottest skincare line of 2020 because she do be collecting those herbs and oils

━ ˙ ˖ ☆ WANTED CONNECTIONS ! ( all open to all genders )

BEST FRIENDS : technically sora is always gonna be her number one best friend 🥺 but i would really love for seola to have at least one person who really truly knows her , someone she’d drop anything for to help them if they needed & vice versa !

CHILDHOOD / FAMILY FRIENDS : open to muses that grew up in roselake ! maybe their parents are friends , or maybe they were just neighbors or in the same classes in elementary school . i have ... lots of ideas for this trope hehe <3 give me someone who seola pushed off the swings when they were tiny and now they’re still sworn enemies to this day ... childhood friends that stayed close , but after the accident in tulsy woods seola distanced herself , someone who was technically her first love who she probably had a little wedding ceremony with when they were like five with candy rings , childhood friends that grew apart and now it’s sad and awkward , childhood friends that stayed close and have embarrassing stories to tell about each other ... i’ll stop here JSDBJWD

CONFIDANTS : the one person seola keeps finding herself talking to about the things she usually keeps inside & they do the same with her . i think it’d be funny if both of them find it weird to do things like go out to lunch or shop together because that’s not what they’re used to

SUBTEXT : people who know her from the library ! maybe your muse spends a lot of time there so they recognize seola ( or maybe they even go just to see her ) , maybe your muse needed help finding something once and seola helped them out & now they’re kinda pals , or maybe your muse is someone seola’s requited to help her out with her own research with the secret garden books

FRIENDS THAT DATED : maybe things just ended amiably between them , or maybe it’s like an “ everyone told us we should date so we tried it and boy was that the weirdest thing we ever did ” situation . either way the outcome is they’e still friends <3

CAHOOTS : what is this you might ask ? someone seola can be in cahoots with . she has a possibly dangerous idea that no one else is likely to say yes to ? she goes to your muse . your muse has an idea no one in their right mind would say yes to ? they go to seola . these two are in cahoots !

BAD INFLUENCE : i’d love for someone who’s trying to get seola to dabble into darker magic / abandon her quest to figure out what’s going on in the woods and save the harvest goddess . she’s pretty hard to sway if she thinks she’s doing the right thing , so bonus points if your muse is good at manipulation and has a convincing case that’s more than just oooh be bad ;)

SPRITES & MAGICAL BEINGS : sorry human muses ... these are not for you </3 i would love if any of the other witches / wizards helped seola on her journey to practice her magic and get better at it ! maybe someone who knows what really happened with sora in the woods but still decided to help her / not judge her , OR maybe someone who knows what she did and is now scared of her / doesn’t think she should be doing magic still at all . as for sprites i think seola would be super curious about them & the harvest goddess , so maybe some sprites who are willing to talk about their abilities with her and their connection to the goddess with her & are maybe even working with her to try and figure out what’s going on in roselake . then on the reverse of that maybe sprites who think seola’s too nosy for her own good , or who don’t trust her because they’re also starting to get suspicious about the mayor , or maybe they just don’t trust any magic that doesn’t come from the harvest goddess

MAYOR LIM : if you’re trying to get to her father for whatever reason , sora’s definitely the easier ticket in , but maybe your muse is trying to be less obvious about it so they try through seola ! i would also ... really love someone she can sneak off with during town events where her dad is involved when she’s supposed to be with her family promoting that shiny lim reputation hehe

SISTER SISTER : connections through sora ! this is ... always the best part of having a sibling in the same rp you get to make connections through them so give me all sorts of stuff it could be dramatic like your muse hurt sora & now seola hates them or it could be wholesome too ! not 2 be cliche but ... love triangle anyone ... just kidding ... unless ? 🙈

THE BIG EX : seola’s first real relationship , and first real heartbreak . everyone before them had been an unofficial thing , but your muse was the real deal . maybe one or both of them ruined it by being too scared of their feelings to stick around , maybe secrets and insecurities got the best of them , maybe one of them was willing to try but the other wasn’t . either way it ended badly , and whether those feelings are resolved or not ... the world is our oyster baby !

HOOKUPS : friends with benefits and it’s not awkward between them , friends with benefits and it’s super weird between them because they may be crossing over into real feeling territory , one night stands / hookups that were huge mistakes , one night stands or hookups that were or are being kept secret for whatever reason , someone who leads seola on but never gets serious about her , or someone she leads on but she never gets serious about because every time they get close to anything real she’s pushing them away

WILL THEY WON’T THEY : a friendship that always teeters on the line of something romantic ! maybe they’re both oblivious to the chemistry / tension or maybe they’re aware of it because they get jealous when they hear about the other being with someone else … maybe they refuse to do anything about it because they don’t want to complicate things or maybe they purposefully cross lines when they feel that jealousy … could be more angsty or it could be more wholesome depending on which way it goes 😈

i wont lie to u ive been writing this all day ... but we finally made it baby 😭😭😭 im sosososo sorry for the length & the wait ... also i feel like my charas always change a lil once i actually start plotting & writing so sorry again if u see me finally writing as seola on the dash and ur like lit rally who is that ... JSDBWJBDWBDJ please come message me on discord to plot ! @ seulgi ily ʕ´• ᴥ•̥`ʔ#8172 maybe ... give this a like if u wanna … do that ? thank u for reading all this ur so brave for that stay sexy stan loona x

#╰ ♡ . 𝒏𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒚 ── ooc !#no words ... intro full </3 #the princess diaries said a queen is never late ... i am not a queen though -__-#wisteria.intro

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kflirts · 5 years

Text

demon next door;

word count: 3.1k

genre: smut

summary: wooyoung is your absolutely fuckable neighbor. he’s slightly less fuckable when he beats up your roomamate. still fuckable tho

notes: my friend cait dared me to write her a wooyoung smut, so i originally wrote this with her name but changed it to reader version to publish it. ye! also thats why mark is ur roommate bc she has Questionable Judgement.

It is not every day you meet a person who is just, so infuriatingly attractive. Even less often is the occurrence that said person is the extremely shitty boy who lives 16C (aka next door) and likes to get check his mail without his shirt on. Not that it’s a problem, of course. Actually, it’s kind of a problem, because at 2:23 in the morning you could think of things that you’d rather hear than people moaning on the other side of the wall. You understand needing some attention every now and then, but this guy is literally fucking people loudly every night. Like, he takes Viagra religiously or something. It literally drives you insane because this dude just sounds like he knows what he’s doing. And it’s obviously impolite to eavesdrop but god, how good could he be to make every single partner make that much noise? Your roommate obviously found the noises less than hot. Mark Tuan wasn’t necessary the kind to let things like that go easily, apparently being disturbed every night was slightly irritating to him. Actually, Mark made sport out of banging against the wall in retaliation and laughing when he heard the boy and his partner yell in annoyance at the interruption. It seemed Mark and the guy just really didn’t get along. This obviously sprouted a bit of an unspoken conflict between the two.

“Son of a bitch.” Mark walked in one day, slinging his bag on the floor, paper in hand. You looked up, eyebrow quirked.

“What’s wrong?”

“That fucking douchebag next door complained to the landlord about us.”

Your legs closed instinctively at the mention of your neighbor. You paused, thinking of what you possibly could have done that was worth doing to the landlord.

“About?” You continued your task of cleaning your tanks, hurrying before your fishes got tired of the bags they were in and decided to Finding Nemo that bitch.

“He said our vape air was bothering him. Landlord says this is a smoking free complex and we have to stop.” Mark flopped on the couch across from you, shaking his head as if this was the worst news he’d ever heard.

“Well.” You sighed, shrugging. “Maybe it’s for the best. You nearly died trying to learn tricks earlier.”

“Oh, fuck you!” Mark’s lips tugged up into a smile. “Vaping is my passion.”

You chuckled, “You really should go out more, buddy.”

Mark fell quiet, and you could tell he was mad.“One day I’m gonna beat that dude up, I swear.”

Chuckling at the empty threat, you shook your head. “Try not to mess up either of your faces, eh?”

Mark lifted his head now, wiggling his eyebrows. “I’m gonna ignore the fact you’re dying to fuck the prick next door.”

“I do not!” You cried indignantly.

You totally did.

“Yeah.. you do.” Mark laughed.

“I don’t! I think he’s cute, is all.”

Mark scoffs. “Whatever you do, don’t look into his eyes. He might steal your soul or something. He’s a demon”

You chuckled. “That’s offensive.”

“You’re right. It’s offensive to demons everywhere. I apologize.”

At this point, your tanks were both completely clean, so you went to fill them up with water, but not before saluting Mark with your middle finger. Mark was an unimaginable pain in the ass, but a cool one. Like a big brother. Or a cousin. Something like that. Either way, no matter how much he insulted your taste in romantic partners, and how often he burned macaroni and cheese into your pot, at the end of the day, the big dummy was family. Nobody else would let you get drunk on soju at 2pm, honestly.

From the bathroom, you heard Mark yell.

“Yo, how mad do you think Douchey Mcdreamyface would be if I stole his mail?”

“That is such a bad idea!” You call back, shaking your head. Idiot.

“You’re questioning my methods, ____!”

“I’m not questioning it, I’m saying it’s stupid!”

“What’s he gonna do, beat me up? He’s like 5′2. I’m so scared.” Mark teased, now in the door, watching you transfer your fish back into their tanks. You only laughed.

Spoiler alert: He totally beat him up.

“What in the fuck?” You sigh, standing in between Mark’s legs as you dabbed at the bruise on his face with alcohol. He had already gotten a long, drawn out lecture when he came in at 12am, severely busted up and blaming it on the boy next door. Now you were tending to his “wounds” as he sat on the kitchen table. “How could he have possibly hit you that hard? Like, what could he have done?”

“I grabbed his ass.” Mark replies flatly, causing you to freeze in horror. He stared at you blankly. “I’m joking, ___. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“So not funny.” You shook your head, handing him a bag of frozen veggies to hold to the bruise on his cheekbone while you looked at the one on his jaw. You tsked. Such a pretty face to get fucked up. “I don’t get why every time you talk to him it has to end up in an argument?”

“Maybe because he’s a fucker who gets on my fucking nerves and he’s always fucking in his fucking squeaky fucking bed! Like, fuck! And he think’s he’s like Casanova or fucking Leonardo DiCaprio or Michael Jackson or something!” Mark responded. “His dick is like 3 inches, I swear.”

“I can tell that you think you’re funny.” You replied sympathetically, placing a Hello Kitty band-aid on his jaw. Mark winced, and you moved, patting his head affectionately before grabbing your phone and heading to the door.

It was time to talk to Mr. Dreamy Mcdouchey.

It would be a lie to say you weren’t a little excited to have a conversation with him. Preferably, under better circumstances, it wouldn’t be confronting him about beating up your roommate, but, you know. Baby steps.

You knocked on the door of his apartment, once-overing yourself, making sure your hair wasn’t all over the place, as it tended to be at 1am in the morning.

You started a bit when the boy opened the door, eyes half shut, mouth flat and icepack to his deeply bruised shoulder. He had on a loose tank top, the kind you buy from Walmart for $3, and grey sweats. His hair was falling in his face, sticking to his forehead with sweat and water, and you assumed he was just coming from the shower.

“Didn’t you get my text Chaey-” He began to talk before looking at you. He stopped, his lips curving into a smile, the same smile a cheetah might have when it sees a baby gazelle without its mother. A preying smile, maybe. “Fuck. Hello.”

You blink, can’t helping but to but stare at how godly his cheekbones are when he smiles, how his eyes gleam with something different. Mark did not shit when he called him a demon.

“Wooyoung.” He stretches out a veined hand, the one not holding the icepack to his shoulder. “And you’re _____.”

You blink again, dumbfounded. “Yeah.” You shake your head, trying to clear your head. “Yeah. I’m ____. Sorry. I live in 14C.��

“You’re my lovely friend Mark’s roommate, I know. Please, come in.”

You nod, walking through the door into his apartment. It just smelled sensual, he was burning some kind of candle that smelled sexual. You gulped, realizing you were actually in his apartment. Now, if he would just be in you, everything would be great.

Wooyoung walked past you, slipped shuffling against the tile of his kitchen area, and he offered you a glass.

“Thirsty?” He lifted an eyebrow, and it took everything in you not to say only for you.

“Mm, I could go for something, yeah.” You seated yourself on a chair in front of the island he stood behind.

“Grape juice?” He smiled.

“Something stronger, maybe?” You offered a smile back.

He smirked, leaning forward as he whispered, “Yeah, you do strike me as a soju kinda girl.”

Something about the tone of his voice, or maybe it was the fact that he was closer to your face, made you shiver in your seat as he poured the liquid into your glass. You thankfully took it, bringing it to your lips. He watched you carefully as you swallowed, licking his lips when your eyes made contact. You, on the other hand, were trying not to choke and die.

“So.” You said, once you put the glass down. “This isn’t a social call, sadly.”

“That’s a pity.” Wooyoung nodded, poking out his lip.

Your lips tugged into a smile, but you tried to stay professional. “I wanted to talk to you about you and Mark maybe.. I don’t know.. Settling this? Like a truce?”

“A truce?” Wooyoung tried to stop himself from laughing. “Well, aren’t you just a regular little peacekeeper.”

“Well, it’s really for the best.. You’re both hurt right now, and I really don’t want to have to nurse Mark back into health every time you two have an argument..” Your fingers played with the rim of the glass, and you averted your eyes down, he was staring at you much harder than you would have preferred. He hummed, seeming to understand. He turned around to put his bottle back in the cabinet behind him, and then returned to stand in front of you, tilting his head as he stared in silence for a few moments.

“If you don’t mind me asking, are you and Mark a couple? Or does he just fuck you for recreation?”

You stared at him blankly, having absolutely no idea how to respond to him. You were mildly pissed, but also mildly dumbfounded.

“We... We’re not? And he doesn’t?” You say, your voice more defensive than you’d intended.

Wooyoung scoffs. “Surely, a pretty thing like you... He must not be able to keep his hands off of you, right?”

“What the... No? It’s not even like that. Mark’s like my brother!”

Another scoff. “Angel, let’s be truthful, yeah? You’re telling me you’ve not even thought of fucking him?”

To say you hadn’t, at first, would be a lie. But after learning how absolutely stupid Mark Tuan truly was, that ended pretty quickly. Not to say he wasn’t hot, but he just really, really wasn’t your type.

“I’m sorry, what do these questions have to do with you ruining his face?” You ask, preparing to storm out.

Wooyoung tilts his head. “Didn’t Mark tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Oh... Angel.” Wooyoung chuckled, as if understanding everything now. “He hit me first, you know.” He leaned in closer. “I think I said something that might have pissed him off.”

You still didn’t understand, so you raised your eyebrows.

“You see, I was under the impression that you and Mark were fuckie-fuckie. IT seems I was mistaken now, but, I think I might have said something to him around the lines of.. One day, he’d be hearing you screaming through the walls. Obviously, Mr. Tuan wasn’t Mclovin’ that.”

To say you were both absolutely mortified and horribly turned on would be a gross understatement.

“That is revolting.” You manage, throat dry.

“That’s not what your face says, dollface.” He counters, and you stand up immediately, about to make your way out. He briskly blocks you in a few strides, his smile sickeningly innocent.

“Move, Wooyoung.” You say steadily.

“Make me.” He smirks at you, his eyes just daring you to touch him.

You never turn down a dare. God, you wanted him so badly, it was scary. Something about always being able to hear him, made you beyond curious. So you pushed him in his abdomen, and he got sent back a couple of steps. You raised your eyebrows.

“Damn, you’re strong for a little thing.” He smiled happily, stepping forward again, this time closer than before. His hot breath fanned your face. “Wanna do that again?” He teased.

You wanted him. So, so badly you wanted him. “Don’t make me handle you, Wooyoung.”

“Oh, angel, you couldn’t handle me if I came with instructions.” With this he closed more space, his chest now brushing against yours. Your breathing hitched as you froze. His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you closer to him. His lips brushed your neck as he bent to it. “I’m gonna be honest with you.” He whispered. “You’d look so pretty when I eat you out.”

You shivered, not meaning to, but tilting your head back to allow him to tease your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut as you inhaled his scent.

“Do you want me to do that?” Wooyoung asked, leaving a single kiss on your neck. You nodded. “I said, do you want me, ___?”

“I do!” You whined back. He smiled at your words, taking your chin in his fingers.

“Hey. Good girls respond the first time, okay?” He said softly.

“Good thing I’m not a good girl and I do whatever the fuck I want.” You say smugly, your hand wandering under his shirt. He furrows his eyebrows together, grabbing your arm in a swift motion and pinning it to your side.

“You do whatever you want, so long as it pleases me, do you understand?”

Something about how stupidly dominant he is made you want to comply, so you nodded. There would be another opportunity to act out, after all. He smirked, satisfied with this answer, and he wasted no time in ridding the both of you of your shirts. He bit his lip as he groped your tits, to the point you wondered if his past partners had never let him touch them.

He teased your nipples above your bra and you whimpered slightly.

“What? Does that feel good?” He breathed, his lips nearing yours, to nip your bottom lip.

“Fuck. Yeah.” You nodded, and he quickly dragged you into his room, pushing you onto his bed. You crawled on your knees to the middle, slipping off your leggings and tossing them to the side. He crawled towards you, and you grinned.

“Come here.” You breathed, and he obliged, of course. You crashed your lips onto his, and he quickly took control, slipping his tongue into your mouth. His hips grinded against your leg softly, and you were surprised he was already that wound up. You chuckled, sucking on his tongue softly, hands on either side of his face His skin was unnaturally soft and you sighed. He felt better than you’d imagined.

“You taste so good.” Wooyoung mumbled at a point when he pulled away. “What does the rest of you taste like?”

“Stop being so seductive.” You whined, hands tangled in his hair. He was going to be the death of you.

“I’m just being myself, baby.” He brought his fingers to your open mouth. “Suck.”

You could have screamed at the words, and quickly obeyed, sucking his digits softly. He takes this time to unhook your bra, groaning at the sight, and you chuckled around his fingers. His mouth teases your nipples, and you begin to whimper softly, the pool between your legs begging for attention. You plead with your eyes, and he notices, chuckling.

“I’m not going to touch you unless you beg, Princess.”

“I don’t beg.” You said indignantly. watching his every move as he teased right above the hem of your panties. He looked up at you, eyebrow raised, not being able to hold in his laugh.

“Is that so?” He sat up and snapped your panties against your skin. You felt your insides twist up. “Yeah.”

“Aw, she’s playing bad girl, cute.” He leaned closer to your face. “Too bad I don’t go down on bad girls.”

You sighed, his fingered so close to you driving you insane. “Wooyoung, you have no idea how much I want you.“

He smirked, slowly sliding your panties down your legs. “Tell me, and say please,”

“Please. Wooyoung. Please touch me. If you don’t, I might cry.”

“Fucking hell, I’m going to ruin you.” He breathed, taking in the sight of you once he’d discarded of the undergarments..

“Please,” You repeated, running a hand through your hair as you motioned to your womanhood, urging him on. He lowered his head down, blowing in between your legs.

“Fuck.” You whined, biting down into your lip, and bucking your hips forwards. His hands rested on your thighs, as he positioned his mouth inbetween you. You were a whiny mess, aching for a touch from him.

“Jesus, ____. I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re moaning like a whore.” He looked at you, eyes deep and teasing.

You resisted the urge to say something snarky, knowing that would only make him take longer. He nodded at your silence before rubbing his index finger along your covered clit. His touch lingered. Your breath got caught in your throat. You whimpered, more than ready for whatever he had for you.

“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He kissed your heat between each word, his finger rubbing soft circles on your clit. All you could manage was a hum, nodding as he slipped a finger into you, pumping softly. You see stars at his pace, and you whimper out his name. “Woo....Wooyoung.” He smirks at your soft moans. “Shh, princess, we don’t want Tuan hearing us, now do we?” You honestly felt way too fucking good to care. He added another finger into your heat, thumb still rolling against your clit. You felt tension grow in your stomach, and you had to scratch his arm to avoid from moaning when he added his tongue into the mix. He pressed it flat against you, and smirked.

“Who’s fucking you this good?”

“You are...shit...” You moaned out your responses, his name tumbling out of your mouth over and over.

He hummed against you, adding pleasure to the waves he was sending up into your body, his pace quickened and all it took was him mumbling “Come for me, angel.” for you to come undone in his hands. He allowed you to shake and convulse, nonsense spilling out of your mouth, smiling at how absolutely fucked you looked. He rode your orgasm out, and didn’t stop, pumping his fingers in and out of you at a faster pace than before, and you begged loudly for him to stop, the overstimulation driving you insane, but he continued. “Again, princess.” He mumbled against your thigh, and come again you did. “Fuck.” You breathed out, trying to steady your breathing. “Do... you don’t think Mark heard me... do you?” Wooyoung grinned, abruptly adding a third finger and thrusting them in and out of you. This caused you to shriek loudly, which was drowned out by a long thump against the wall.

“Yeah, I’d say he did.”

#ateez #ateez wooyoung #ateez smut #wooyoung smut

566 notes · View notes

id-rather-be-an-outsider · 5 years

Text

Sunflower Dreams | pt I

Aaron Davis (Spiderverse) x Reader

word count: 1757 (or about that, I made some tweaks after I copy pasted it here so uh.... rough guestimate?)

summary: when young and educated y/n’s given the opportunity of a lifetime, she plans accordingly. her life is finally starting to be perfect, until suddenly, it’s not anymore. her friendly neighborhood bachelor, Aaron Davis, helps her pick up the pieces, as she unknowingly makes him see that there’s more to life than being a villain.

a/n: I decided to write this story bc Aaron Davis gets no love, which is crazy to me, and because I had a little idea cooking up in my head that I thought would be a good story. I took a lot of inspiration for the protagonist from my own life, but you’re only gonna hear slivers of it for now. I have no idea how many chapters this is gonna be, but like. I hope someone enjoys this, bc I know I will enjoy writing it. also. I wrote this story from my perspective, so when I imagine the reader, I envision her as kinda ambiguous in the ethnic department (I’m mixed but white-presenting), but she can be whatever ya’ll want her to be. lightskin, darkskin, anything. okay. Imma let ya’ll read now haha jk I also gotta say, HELL YEA I USED TREVANTE RHODES AS MY PERSONAL FANCAST FOR AARON DAVIS, THAT MAN IS FWOINE AIN’T NOBODY FINNA TELL ME ANY DIFFERENT FUCK OUTTA HERE

I didn’t make a big deal about moving to New York to pursue my Masters. Already had my Bachelors in Business Administration with a minor in Fine Arts, just got my Bachelors in Education, and now I was ready to chase after my Masters. It only made sense to take the opportunity. How often are you gonna be offered a full ride in exchange for opening your own business in Brooklyn upon graduation, with the funding necessary to do so? Once it took off, I’d return to Tacoma and pay the city my gratitude for making me who I was.

As I was saying, it was a quiet departure. Thank God I’m a minimalist, otherwise I would’ve had a LOT more items to bring with me. My boyfriend and I packed all my belongings and made the trek across the US after saying goodbye to my family and friends. He was driving. We held hands all the way there. Sometimes speaking, sometimes not.

When we got to my new home, I already had a parcel of mail waiting for me from my university. After we took up the first load, we sat down on my empty floor and opened it. It welcomed me home and had a map, coffee shops and fun places circled for me to go visit. It was sweet.

By noon we had everything in my unit thanks to a friendly neighbor named Aaron Davis and his nephew, a funny kiddo named Miles who reminded me of why I came to New York in the first place, and by the evening we had everything unpacked. We walked to a Starbucks and had coffee and sandwiches, now sitting on my bed with our stomachs full. The window was open, the faint beeps and honks of traffic coming from far below.

We curled up into each other. “I fucking hate this,” I said. “It’s not fair.”

“I know. I do too. And you know I would stay here with you if I could, but I’m still having no luck finding a job here.”

“Fuck finding a job, I’ll be the breadwinner of the family,” I laughed, even though I was serious. He knew I was.

“I can’t burden you like that financially. I promise, as soon as I land an interview, you’re gonna be the first to know. And as soon as I get hired, I’m showing up on your doorstep.” He kissed my forehead. “I don’t say it near enough, but I love you, and I’m so proud of you.”

“I love you too. And thank you. It’s like, my entire life is falling perfectly into place, all but- well- except for you.”

“We’ll get there, I promise. For now, just finesse every man or woman here who will buy you dinner, and try to have fun.” He rubbed my back, continuing, “You’ve never dated anyone but me, so... take it as your opportunity to learn about what you like, and once we’re together again, we can find a way to fit any new and quirky tastes you find you have into the relationship. But-“ His hand moved down quick and slapped my ass, squeezing it and illiciting an ‘ow’ of protest from me- “This is still mine, so no fucking, or else I’ll be doing more beating than just beating that pussy up.”

I laughed and said, “You fuckin’ freak.”

“Yea, but you like that shit.” He said confidently.

“Shut the fuck up, why you gotta be so loud about what we do when the window’s open?” I gave him a light punch, then whispered in his ear, “But aye, like, I won’t deny it.”

“Good, because that would’ve been real awkward after I’ve been in them guts for four years straight.” Then he lowered his voice. “Speaking of which, I’m trynna be in them once more tonight and tomorrow morning.”

“I dOn’T hAvE aS HiGh Of A sEx dRiVe As YoU!” I mocked him in my best Spongebob voice. “Always lyin for why?”

He pulled me on top of him and kissed me, his way of telling me to shut up nicely. “Shhhh, I’m just trynna make the most of the time we have left before I have to go back to Tacoma.”

“But you don’t have to go,” I said, “You can stay here-“

He cut me off with a series of kisses, “I already-“ “-bought-“ “-the tickets-“ “-so I actually do kinda have to.” He wrapped his arms around me, petting my hair. He always said I had the softest curls he’d ever touched.

“I just wish you could stay,” I whispered. “We’ve already made it through so much, each of us on our own and then together, I just-“ I cut myself off. The tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over. “-I just-“

“Baby, say it. If your overthinker brain is gonna torture you with this, I wanna hear it so I can put those thoughts to rest.”

“I just keep thinking that something’s gonna happen to you and I’m gonna lose you. The very idea of that terrifies me, and makes me want to weep-“ I go cross eyed as I watch a tear fall from my eye and trail down my nose- “-because I don’t know how to live without you. And I mean that in a couple ways.”

“Well... I’m not leaving you forever. I’m coming back here as soon as possible, I’m gonna talk to you on Discord every chance I get, I’m gonna call you every day, and I’m gonna go to sleep every night dreaming that I’m here with you. For all we know, I could be coming back here in less than a month.” He tilted my chin up to look in my eyes. “Even if I’m not physically present, I’m always gonna be here. You’re never alone.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

In the morning, we slept in late and cuddled until he absolutely had to get up. We both hopped in the shower and he put on his airport clothes while I pulled on a pale, lemon yellow sweatsuit with a white gold chain to match. Gotta let these hoes know, I outdress them even on my bummy days.

The ride to the airport was a back and forth between us kissing at red lights and screaming out different lyrics from XXXTentacion, Post Malone, JUICE WRLD and whoever the hell else we felt like listening to as we drove, much like we did since the beginning of our relationship.

When we got there, we took our time saying goodbye since he didn’t have to stress too much about baggage check. We said we loved each other, once I couldn’t see him anymore I called him and we talked while I drove back to my new home and he waited for his flight, and then he was called to board so we got off the phone, but not before he promised me that he would call me as soon as he landed.

When I got home, I stopped by the mailbox to see if I had anymore mail and simultaneously checked my Instagram, seeing a flurry of notifications. Suddenly, his mom called me.

“Hi mom, what’s up? Are you okay?” I said as I scrolled through my Instagram, trying to make sense of all the digital confusion.

She sniffled.

“Mom, what happened?”

“Check the news, babygirl... have you not seen it yet?”

“Uh, no, I haven’t, but I’ll check it out right now,” I said, putting her on speakerphone.

She started sobbing, saying “I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have called you like this, but I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

And that’s when I saw my worst fears in a news article:

NYC - Sea Bound Plane Crashes, No Survivors

A horrific accident has happened today, and experts are still struggling to find out how - a plane headed to Seattle malfunctioned mid-flight, claiming the lives of everyone on board. Many of the victims have already been identified by their families, not by looks, but by the identification on their bodies at the time of the incident. Below this article are photos of the bodies. If you think you can identify one of them, contact...

I couldn’t finish reading. I scrolled and saw the bodies, all of them mangled and torn apart, almost unrecognizable as humans. Hearing his mom say ‘he’s dead’ over and over again as I stared at the pictures made me lose my stomach.

Up came all of my breakfast, and whatever Starbucks I hadn’t yet digested from the night before.

“Mama, I love you, but I have to call you back later-“ a pause as I threw up again. “I’m physically sick. I’m so sorry,” I sobbed the last sentence, and after hearing a teary goodbye from the other end, hung up. I’d dropped my mail the first time and only now noticed that it was covered in my mess. I didn’t care. I started crying, which was a mistake, because it only made me throw up more, this time nothing but bile.

“Hey, are you okay?” I whipped around, facing Aaron Davis, the friendly man from the day before.

“I- I’m sick.” I said, and immediately burst into tears. “Please help me.” Those three words rarely ever left my mouth, but even I know when I can’t do something on my own. He put his keys in his pocket and reached out to me.

Mere minutes later, I was in my unit, crouched over the toilet, heaving. Aaron had guided me there, holding my hair out of my face as I continued to puke. He called management and told them what happened, and he told me they were already cleaning it up.

“Listen... I know it’s not my place to say anything, seeing as I’m just your neighbor, but...” He rubbed the back of his neck as he was crouched beside me. “I overheard the phone call. And I overheard the conversation you had with your boyfriend last night. He loved you.”

“I know he did.” I said, because it was true.

“I just... look, if you need anything, I’m here. I know you‘re hurting a lot right now, and I know you may want nothing but for everyone to leave you alone, especially the new dude who isn’t minding his business, but if you need anything, I’m here. And Imma check up on you. You’re not alone. You’re never alone.”

I laughed, but it held no real warmth. “He said that last part to me yesterday night.”

“He was right. And still is.”

#aaron davis #spider-man #spiderman #into the spider verse #spider man: into the spider verse #Miles Morales #aaron davis x reader #college au #sunflower dreams #fanfic

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starlinfae · 5 years

Text

Update of sorts. I just found out recently that I've been diagnosed without my knowledge with psychotic personality and mixed personality since at least 2004 (I was diagnosed transgender 2008 though my first visits over that were in 2003 and it was overturned in 2017). Whether I've been knowledgeable in 2004 or 2003 about the first two diagnoses, I do not know but with my current state of being, I do not recall ever being told about those diagnoses or having been treated for either of them at said era or after until 2012 when I had an episode that gave me psychotic personality diagnosis and medication (which nulled my entire sense of self and identity and I lost all talents such as singing and arts and any and all personality traits I identified/identify myself by). And didnt affect however any of the symptoms it was prescribed for.

I had the trauma and dissociation test finished, with the parting words of the nurse admitting based on her idea of the extent of my research into did/osdd (truthfully a few pages on did-research website) that she had a difficult time administering the test and claimed that since childhood I've been without control creating characters (she did not explain where she got this belief) to appeal and try to gain affection from my parents (sounded like kitchen psychology to me and left me entirely confused),while the truth is because of my cult upbringing and unstable mother and the whole religious dynamic pervasive through every single day of my childhood, I would've been making everything worse by play pretending to be a boy toward my parents. (This was the nurses point, that I wanted to be a boy to gain affection as if that would have worked and become a valid method of gaining affection. I have no memories of such nature toward my parents. What I do remember however is macro managing my behaviour by watching my mothers reactions, where she didn't even have to say a word for me to begin changing my behaviour to avoid her flipping on me or punish me for being wrong).

So in short, the nurse said the test indicated zero dissociative symptoms despite the symptoms i told her and I later repeated them to the doctor (she wrote down that my symptoms don't show up in the test as well).

All the interactions of the nurse were leading and suggestive questions that never had a follow up question further than an answer she deemed to support her idea that I don't experience what I experience. As if she has never worked with a trauma patient that predominantly seeks to minimize and deny trauma and triggering experiences by masking them inside a positive thing or twisting it into a positive thing.

Most of the sessions I felt low key attacked and doubted and like I was supposed to know things I have no way of knowing, such as what happens when I experience amnesia or who fronted during the period I experienced amnesia or if someone else in the system knows what has happened during the time of memory loss or how often memory loss occurs (I only became aware of the specific memory loss because it directly involved other people and the appointment times were incorrect compared to which appointment I thought I was going to, if it had never come up the way it did, i never would have caught on the memory loss at all). If I'm the one with the amnesia, how am I supposed to know the answer to these questions?

Or forgetting details such as what lead to my first sex or that I've attempted suicide in the past. Or that I've forgotten one of my elementary school mates (the only real one) had died a year prior to me refinding it out through fb. (I have a memorial necklace charm now, so I won't forget again). Or having ironically good memory of the layouts of the houses I grew up in, except in two of the houses, they both have the same second floor. One is real and the other one, I have no clue where I slept, where I played, who I shared my bedroom with, what happened on that floor, what that floor looked like, where my brothers slept and what did they do day to day. I have zero memories involving that second floor of that house (aside the only one of watching the neighboring house be on blazing fire), where all of us kids still lived at home. I have one hazy memory of my oldest brother (who has been later described by my other brother as generally violent and disturbed toward my other brothers, he almost strangled the third one by hanging him) and that is about him putting so much ketchup on his macaroni that even the dog couldn't stomach it when I took the plate to the dog.

The oldest brother got engaged and moved out while we still lived in that specific house.

Overall I have a good decent amount of memories (where I am either alone, with external people - mainly other children or then feeling rejected, neglected, punished, disapproved of by all family (aside my oldest brother, he's just a black presence that's never in contact with me or any of my memories) including relatives), except any trauma memories (including second hand trauma I have logically witnessed based on the hint memories and what I've been told about our family).

If im telling any "stories" it's one of Nothing bad ever happened in our family and even though I was alone and rejected by everyone, I was a happy kid. Most of my memories are from summer or sunny days.

So I am left hurt, doubted, dismissed and ridiculed even. And I'm leaving things untold that are outright misconduct toward a patient by a medical professional. And I was basically argued and condescended to til the very end and laughed at during a switch (because the doctor didn't understand what the fuck happened during the meeting with the alter who fronted and then us switching and shaking her hand thanking for her time when we were leaving). And these two were supposed to be somehow specialized with dissociative disorders, yet I had to hear how there is zero main criteria that DID has to have and how ICD-10 is just a mix of guidelines and symptoms and differs greatly from DMS criteria and that DID is a very rare disorder, relevantly new diagnosis and is very rarely diagnosed in Finland as if that makes it as rare as their diagnosing of it. And I'm just saying, other diagnosed Finnish people have publicly outright said that if you want help, you ain't gonna get a diagnosis or accurate help through public sector (where I was tested and all the above is from) but that if you want help, you're gonna have to see a private sector doctor. And I can't afford that, unfortunately and I'm so so tired and disappointed and feel unsafe with these people.

My current nurse uses misdirection by disrupting my talking during our sessions by saying irrelevant comments or demanding to finish lengthily their thought that has been established mutually already that it has nothing to do with my situation or the way I cope with things but is how she personally sees it and how it works for her/how she copes and how others cope. And she does this to shut me up. As if I wasn't there for my care and to get help with my problems but socialize with her about what she personally finds works for her and other and how sleeping badly because the brain can't clean itself from gunk can cause memory problems. And she succeeds in shutting me up because she forces me into a social mode/alter instead of listening to the parts that are connected to trauma. So I can't continue talking because I no longer even remember what. The. Fuck. I. Was. Talking. About. I guess my brain is dirty.

The doctor gave us only one diagnosis that is mixed personality disorder and it is described with profound diffusive identity, dissociative symptoms, psychotic personality symptoms.

I'm so fucking exhausted. I haven't wanted to die as many times in my entire life as I have wanted to die these past few months. I've never considered myself suicidal but I just don't want to exist like this anymore. There's no help. No one's offered anything to help with my problems. It's like they haven't heard a fucking thing. "so how have you been feeling?" is the fucking first thing the nurse wanted to focus on. When I told her I shut the whole system down after the diagnosis bc I cant deal with things (because the angry part wouldn't shut up and was making us crazy by going things over and over even though we can't do anything about it and made us completely apathetic we couldn't function) she says "isn't that a good thing?"

ISN'T THAT A GOOD THING??!

Please, I don't know, the fuck, I'm not sure more education is gonna help it. I don't have words left anymore.

#Tw vent #Tw abuse #Shit and #Medical vent

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jihoonslattee · 7 years

Text

Prince! Park Jihoon

[credit to eyes nose lips on twitter] also should i make pt 2 because i like this ending but should i make another one where they get together???

lets get this show on the road people + with a photo of park jihoon gracing us also LMAO I NEVER POST AT THIS TIME BUT YKNOW SOMEONE REQUESTED A PRINCE JIHOON AU AND I WANTED TO WRITE IT BEFORE THE IDEA I HAD WENT AWAY

you all know the famous dance group Wanna One right?

yeah that one with all the very handsome boys that mostly hide behind a face mask but dance so well that everyone knows that are handsome

don’t question just go with the flow HFJLDS

well anyways in your kingdom you are really just a simple girl who happens to LOVE anything musical

sadly your genes made you a not so musical girl so you were satisfied with just being someone who loved flowers

but anyways

there were rumors about some princes from different kingdoms secretly being in the group

like a bunch of girls around your age would always gush about the supposed princes in the dance group

which one of them was rumored to be Park Jihoon the prince of your kingdom which no one believed

because tbh whenever the girls tried to convince everyone they always end their argument with

“honestly I’m not even sure if it’s Prince Jihoon but that guy that looks like him is so handsome so it must be him!”

when they said that you literally rolled your eyes to the back of your head in annoyance like how could someone be that ignorant

also like Prince Jihoon was always in the public eye so it would be impossible for him to be able to sneak and dance with a group around places.

but soon something interesting caught your eye one day

during a ceremony where the royal family usually talks and addresses some things within the community the King addressed the rumors about Prince Jihoon being in a dance group to which the King firmly said

“We would never allow the Prince to participate in such activities, if he was then we would’ve known already all he should be doing is focusing on his activities as a soon to be king”

while the king was saying this you noticed that Jihoon’s expression was faltering

and that’s when you got curious

luckily the dance group had made its round to your kingdom and you were one of the lucky people who scored tickets to the mini dance concert

you even got one of those backstage passes because you were hired to put flowers around the venue so wow lucky you people would probably love to be in your position

because girls around you age would literally go up to you asking if you needed help with the flowers which you politely declined because

one: you weren’t gonna get used and be told they were gonna “help” when in reality they are trying to find out who the dance memebers are

two: you literally were putting pots of flowers around the venue so it wouldn’t be that hard

or so you thought

because you got a note on your desk on day asking for there to be a lot of flowers because it was a special occasion for some reason

so while you were putting around some flowers and just struggling because you had to put water in them someone tapped you on the shoulder

“need some help?”

you turned around to see Prince Jihoon standing behind you, giving you a small smile which instead of making your swoon your were very shocked

“oh gosh!”

you almost fell but jihoon caught you, making your feel very embarrassed

“u-uh no! i don’t need help!”

he looked around a little before smiling and turning to walk away

“dark pink roses!”

jihoon turned around and gave you a small confused expression

“um the meaning of that flower is to say thank you, sorry I don’t know why I blurted it out”

he laughed and just shook his head

“don’t be sorry, I’m thankful you told me the meaning of dark pink roses, you learn something new every day!”

“yeah”

you just smiled awkwardly while holding a flower named bird of paradise

jihoon pointed to the flowers you were holding in your hands

“what do those flowers mean?”

“oh! these mean wonderful anticipation and excitement, of course people won’t really realize that but i thought it would be nice to have flowers that kind of represent what people are feeling for the dance group that is going to perform here soon!”

“are you going then Y/N?”

“yes! but how do you know my name?”

jihoon awkwardly chuckled for a split second but went back to his usual princely aura

“My dad told me that i should try to remember everyone’s names in the kingdom. Also your dad who usually supplies us with the flowers around the palace often talks about you to our dad”

“oh gosh he doesn’t embarrass me does he?”

jihoon laughed and you just smiled along with him

you suddenly realized though that you didn’t really have much time to prepare since the concert was tonight

“I really have to get back to placing these flowers in special places, i hope to see you again!”

jihoon started walking away and just waved at you

“see you later!”

you just waved back at jihoon before going back to placing flowers around the place

later that day you got ready for the dance concert and luckily LUCKILY made your way to the front of the venue near the stage

“gosh these fans are brutal, I didn’t mean to push my way to the front but they’re so hard to get past”

mumbling to yourself you looked around and noticed people talking to each other, and suddenly you low key wished you had a friend

but that thought was soon replaced with your ears being filled with constant screaming because the dance group soon came out with the face masks and suits that everyone said they had

you studied each one of their faces and you found yourself looking at a specific person

“he looks too familiar”

you tilted your head in confusion when it clicked

“no way”

you suddenly remembered when jihoon said that he would see you later

of course it was a stretch but you did remember seeing his expression falter when his father was against him dancing and you realized that you were technically helping him out by decorating the place in flowers

so basically you were having a crisis because you started thinking about the possible outcomes to if his father found out he was a dancer and then someone makes it connect to you

i mean you still kind of enjoyed the dance though

but you kept your eyes on the person you thought was prince jihoon

after one of their dances they went to go get water and while everyone else was talking you were looking around when you spotted the person you assumed to be jihoon taking off his mask

and you were right, it ended up being prince jihoon

once they all stepped out again you made contact with jihoon and mouthed

“are you crazy?!”

and he just gave you a wide eyes expression like

“oh i’ve been caught”

and he looked panicked for a second but quickly changed back to an indifferent expression since one of the other dancers called him out

then you started panicking even more because since the rumors about jihoon being a dance here then were the rumors about the other princes being apart of it also true?!

you were literally shaking in your outfit as you kept on watching the group dance

after the dance concert you quickly cleaned up and flowers that got knocked to the ground

bc your father told you that flowers should never be mistreated

and you quickly tried to leave the venue when someone grabbed your wrists

“Y/N wait!”

he slightly pulled you back and turned you around so that you were facing him

“i-i’m sorry I should’ve told you when we were talking earlier today but I thought you wouldn’t have reacted like how you did today”

you just sighed and looked him in the eyes

“Prince jihoon why are you doing this? I thought your father wouldn’t let you do any activities like this?”

now it was jihoon’s turn to sigh, he let go of your wrist and just looked down at the floor

“I know but I really love dancing, I thought my dad would’ve been supportive of it and I was going to tell him after that recent ceremony but after he said that I just couldn’t”

“how long are you even going to keep it a secret for? Won’t you dad get upset?”

“he probably will but will you please keep it a secret until then?”

he looked back up at your with hopeful eyes

“I swear if he does find out I’ll make sure that he won’t know that you knew, i just, I just want to keep on dancing”

you stood there looking at jihoon, and you understood what he was trying to say

i mean yes it was obvious but like he really wants to keep dancing and it just really reminds you of how you want to keep on making people happy through flowers

weird but yes you understand

you sighed and gave jihoon a smile and a pat on his shoulder

“well then prince jihoon i’ll keep your huge secret for now, you can keep on being sneaky”

and as soon as you said those words, the unexpected happened

he pulled you instantly into a hug and just kind a tight kind of hug

“oh my thank you Y/N thank you so much!”

you laughed a little and just patted him on the back

“I wasn’t gonna tell him anyways, I was just worried about the situation is all”

he didn’t really respond but just kept you in a hug

“well well are we interrupting something?”

you looked towards the stage area and saw all the other princes from neighboring countries smiling at the two of you hugging

jihoon instantly let go of you and looked at Prince Seongwoo (LMAO)

“n-no you aren’t I was just thanking her for keeping our secret.”

and just like that you were suddenly surrounded by 11 princes all trying/giving you handshakes and just blurting out a bunch of words along the lines of

“thank you so much!”

“you’re a life saver”

“the flowers you put out here were really nice!”

“you and jihoon look good together!”

you literally almost choked on air hearing that last comment which had prince guanlin laughing on the floor because jihoon also reacted that way

except you were more red

but anyways you were now keeping the secret of 11 prince’s dancing endeavors and even though you were still pretty worried about the situation,

you were willing to keep the secret since it was something that they all liked

while you were trying to leave the venue for the second time though jihoon stopped you again

“um thank you again Y/N”

you turned around to see Prince Jihoon holding a bouquet of dark pink roses and a tiny card in the middle with a cute face with it saying thank you

“where did you get these flowers from?”

smiling you took the bouquet of roses from him and slightly blushed

“thank you for the roses though! here’s one from me to you”

you took one out of the bouquet and handed it to jihoon, which he chuckled to

“what’s so funny?”

“isn’t this like regifting?”

you started to vigorously shake your head in protest as you were trying to think of a proper explanation

“um no! I just also wanted to thank you is all!”

jihoon smiled at your reaction and just held the flower up to his face

“thank you for the flower then Y/N I’ll make sure to take care of it well, I’ll see you later”

he waved his hand that held the flower and started walking back towards the castle

you looked down at the flowers and just smiled at it

“I’ll make sure to take care of these flowers too”

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thethirdwheel404 · 4 years

Text

Med Rewatch Series (#11)

S3 E11: Folie À Deux.

Episode description: Dr. Rhodes and Dr. Bekker try to save a misdiagnosed patient while Dr. Choi is on a mission to figure out what happened during a stabbing at his apartment complex.

I remember this episode being a really good one for the psych team (subsequently Sarah, we don’t care about charles). And based off the description, i’m pretty sure this is the one with ethan and april running around in minimal clothes having a nerf gun fight. fun idea. oh, also, ava mention in the description, so it should be good.

Let’s get into it.

- i remember this one, the two neighbors are having a shared delusion or something

-FUCK

NONNONONONONON

-i’m gonna need a minute

- i did not realize this was the episode they introduce sarah’s dad

- COME ON MAN

- i screamed out loud.

- I’ve actually completely forgotten the storyline

- the fact that ava and connor seemingly work on sarah’s father (and sarah and ava interact once? CRIMINAL)

- let’s keep going

- the fact that the guy is charming and already joshing around with the boys. good writing

- ava needs to protect sarah

- this guy. already trying to gain sympathy from charles. please sir no.

- what was the point of having sarah go through two really big story arcs in one season

- sarah’s shirt in this episode is the one with hexagon patterns all over it. i loved that shirt

- charles feeling guilty later in the season for subtly pushing sarah towards getting closer with her father. good broad strokes writing

- noah sending up his patient to the cath lab - cut to: ava and connor in the OR, ava saying: “meet mr. murphy. some genius in the E.D. sent him to the cath lab with a STEMI” (his heart is blue so big yikes)

- and I am so here for ava calling noah out on his shit. a main part of my rewritten cannon

- what is hands down my favorite thing about med? the one thing they do 100% correct? The way they transition from story to story. at least that aspect of their storyline is clean

- is this the one with the floppy baby

- VERY INTERESTING - how in the episode with ava calling noah out, is also when noah is back at it again, chatting with reese

- also, sarah already knowing what noah is gonna say about the patient - SHE’S SO SMART

-sarah literally not giving noah anythingggg. cutting him off and not letting him finish his little story. leaving the room when she just feels like it. we love

- *noah walks into the viewing gallery*

ava: “Your patient, Doctor?”

noah: “uh, yeah.”

ava: “Brilliant.”

- why does this line up so well tho, with that one thing i wrote for S3 E2, ava saving sarah from noah’s chatter and shutting him up

- the surgery faces a complication and ava makes a tough call that will sacrifice some of the other organs, making connor get mad at her, accusing her of inviting him just so they’ll both fail (ava being mad at noah bc this was his fault? or, alternatively noah being fucking terrified of ava after this, but then ava is just... chill. --- this is a good Idea, I’ll sit on it more,)

- when connor tells noah that the patient is doing fine and says “no thanks to you.” (yeah, she’s cutting, but the patient nearly dies)

- noah walking around ava to get to connor (and ava rolling her eyes at him)

- ava eyeing connor reassuring noah it’s bc he’s flirting with sarah because connor is coddling him

- ava smiling when connor says that he’s still learning to get past his assumptions

- yes okay, yes, i see it. she’s smiling bc she thinks he’s talking about her. what does this mean? not anything explicitly romantic. look at me and tell me that ava isn’t someone who is finally happy that someone is willing to see past her cold blunt exterior. how much more satisfying is that, vs. ‘oh wow! the popular boy likes me!’. it is surely much more endearing (that being said the fact that she does smile [in the canon of the show] like the shy little school girl annoys me so fucking much)

- and ava rolling her eyes at noah walking around her? just another person who sees her as just cold and heartless. it’s annoying that it happens so often.

- jay remarking that charles ‘sure knows how to bring the best out of people’ when he gets a women to threaten him, and charles says ‘it’s a gift’ - thinking about how he sure brings out the ‘best’ of reese and her father...

- charles using this episode to diagnose a psychopath. in the same episode reese’s father shows up. the med writers really used all their brain cells on this one

- med really is like ‘don’t worry guys. natalie manning on our show gave a speech on how anti vaxxers suck. we’ve done our job. society is cured’

- we don’t talk enough about how soft monique is

- the way ava sits on the bed in the doctors lounge is GAY. THAT IS A HOMOSEXUAL. MA’AM. WHO ARE YOU FOOLING. the fact that connor is just there, sitting at the table, sipping tea, using a moleskin notebook as a coaster is fucking hilarious. the energy in the room (distinctly homosexual).

- they really would have been unstoppable if the show had just kept them bros

- and then the moment connor opens his mouth he turns the convo distinctly straight again. how fucking disappointing

- literally the energy in the room before vs. after they start talking is polarizing. and they have to go and make it the straightest scene. jesus just fuck off

- let’s continue

- look he’s finally able to play into her jokes

- also ew jimmy fallon - reason #100 connor rhodes sucks

- this is also the first mention of the conjoined twins case (makes sense since this seems to be about the half season mark and we’re seeing a bunch of B season plots introduced, what with sarah’s dad and all)

- start of heightened competition which the show uses for exhausting sexual tension god help me

- CONNOR YOU ARE STANDING TOO CLOSE, GET AWAY FROM THIS WOMAN

- there’s like a three second span where they’re standing inches apart and just staring at each other and mentally im going ‘nononononnonnono’

- GOD DAMMIT

- so yeah they kiss. (right after connor says he needs to pace himself but whatever)

- why is it so aggressive

So. What am I supposed to do here? I’m rewriting this right? What am i supposed to do with the rest of the season. I suppose that’s what I’m supposed to find with this rewatch. my job just got a whole lot harder.

If I were to make Ava a psychopath, I would do it here, so that she was just playing with him. I’m not going to do that though, because she deserves a tad better.

What I’m thinking now, Ava is having some sort of existential crisis, due to being in this new place and having only one (1) semi-strong connection after living here for six months. so she latches onto connor, thinks that she needs him, panics that she isn’t anybody without him (can you see the themes I’m going with?)

or, this is just some meaningless fling, which is also a novel idea, but from the evidence we’ve gathered, ava is much too caring a person to do that (at least I believe).

regardless, we did a lot of good work today, pointing out ava harassing noah (like i thought would happen lmao). definitely not my fav episode, or the best episode. but in terms of the rewrite, there’s a lot we can work with here

as always, thanks for sticking through

read the rest here:

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 12 / Extra

#chicago med #med series rewatch #folie a deux #mine

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goldenscript · 6 years

Note

HEY HEY it’s fine, your health always comes first! my friday was really interesting and today i finally went grocery shopping so there’s that. how’s your weekend so far? LMAO UR LITERALLY ME. i often feel detached from people or even myself but it takes .0000081 seconds for a tear to slip out when im reading or watching anime. omg i cried sm the second season of haikyuu bc like.. my baby oiks deserved to go to nationals man, seijoh deserved to go ;-; dont get me wrong i was sooo proud of (1/?)

our crows but like.. oikawa!!! i watched a couple episodes of avatar yesterday and i already love how flawed zuko is, you can see it right from the start. i already know what happens tho okay HAHAH. AND GIRL IM SO HYPED FOR INFINITY WAR!! LIKE aSDJD I CANT EVEN EXPRESS HOW I FEEL, SHIT’S BOUT TO GO DOWN. WHICH REMINDS ME, BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA IS SET IN A UNIVERSE WITH SUPERHEROES AND IT’S HONESTLY V CUTE. which ALSO reminds me i had a fic draft about how an ex-superhero mc who’s next door (2/?)

who’s next door neighbors with a notorious anti-hero (superrrr orig ik, i was like in 9th grade ok i’m cringing) and she finds out about him through some funny circumstances bc for one, she’s not dumb. she can piece it together. she lost her powers in some way and is trynna adjust to reg human life and she doesn’t want anything to do with playing hero anymore bc of uh “PLOT.” shit happens. never got past the 3rd chapter lol which made me realize that long fics weren’t for me, i lose (3/?)

motivation too fast but it just sucks bc idk how to condense it enough for it to be a oneshot. when i randomly write, they still hit up to 20k so I DONT KNOW?? maybe i just write too much. i’m just as disorganized as i was 4-5 years ago ;; AH FF(.)net AND QUOTEV. GOOD OL’ TIMES. the first fic i read was about infinite’s woohyun bc he was my bby at the time lmaooo. and wow i’d love to read your revamped fics and whatever else you have in mind!! the thing about fantasy is that it’s so broad (4/?)

u can literally do anything with it!! LMAO WELL I MEAN TBRH IT’S JUST BTS but HM WHO DO YOU THINK MAtCHES THE JOB DESCRIPTIONS?? wink wink. ALSO sorry that i talk so much omg u must hate reading my messages lmao i feel like i always have a lot to say (5/5!!!) -sjsu

lemme just say that i don’t hate getting your messages at all ok!!!!!!!!!!!! i feel like i have a lot to say especially when the topics are within my interests and girl talking to me abt cringey fanfics, ugly crying over sports anime, & black panther are perfect enough reasons to babble over! i promise!!!!!!!! i look forward to talking to you girl (’:

thank you! i honestly just went out to my friend’s bday dinner yesterday night and chilled at home all day today. i’m supposed to hang with my dad and probably go out driving tomorrow so we’ll see. as of rn, i’m fooling myself into thinking that i’m gonna work on my english paper rn but i’m compromising and telling myself to just find quotes and write my thesis then saving the actually writing for tomorrow. but LMAO I’M GLAD YOU CAN RELATE. I WORRY THAT I’M ALONE ON THIS SOMETIMES. yeah, i detach easily and i don’t mean to but sometimes i prefer to let my mind drift and daydream because it’s so much more interesting than day to day life. buT I GET SO EMOTIONALLY INVESTED IN ANIME OK. I CRIED FOR SEASON TWO ALSO. LIKE OIKAWA WAS SO HARDWORKING AND FUCK WHEN THEY LOST TO THE CROWS I WAS SO SAD BC I HONESTLY WISHED THEY COULD BOTH WIN SOMEHOW. like fuck that anime is good, making us sympathize and love like literally everyone you meet because the biggest antagonist in that damn show is time and how one minor point just fucks everyone over and kjsdhfsjkdhf i love haikyuu!! sooooo much. god

LMAO IT’S OK. i spoil myself a lot with shows and movies bc i’m a big like movie person especially in the MCU and horror cuz i like knowing that what i’m watching is worth all the fuss (this goes for most movies in general) although for black panther i didn’t spoil myself because i could feel it in my gut that it would end my entire existence and guess what it did? ended my entire existence. AND OMG INFINITY WAR SDFSDKJHF I’M SOLELY WATCHING IT FOR T’CHALLA TBH. I NEEDA KNOW WHAT ELSE IS GONNA HAPPEN WITH HIM AND THE REST OF WAKANDA OK. AND OMG IT IS? I LOVE THAT. OK FOR SURE I’M WATCHING IT OK.

i only played an interactive story app abt superheroes and it was so freakin’ cool. now this makes me want to replay it ‘cuz it’s just a trip man. the story line is great and i love the idea of superpowers. and omg that story of yours sounds so cool! like imo a trope / plot can seem “cliche” but how you execute it is what really makes the biggest different! like make me feel!!! make me love and hate your characters!!!!!!!! but yeah, honestly, i’m really starting to disbelieve in my skills at writing multi-part fics bc it’s a STRUGGLE. i write to finish i think. but i’m challenging myself to write series bc i have a few that i reallyyyyyyyyyyy want to write. and holy shit 20k????????? that’s amazing! i’ve only done that like once and i haven’t read it in hella long.

whenever i get around to it (man, i’m starting to get annoyed with myself for using this phrase kjsdhkjfsh), i will most def hit you up!!!!!!!! my first fic was like......... uh.... fuck i can’t even remember but i will admit i did try writing twilight fanfic too. in terms of kpop, my first was this jungkook drabble that i never saved and actually deleted after a few days but another one was this yoongi drabble that i currently have up rn that isn’t too bad. but ok girl telling me, a girl who thrives off structure and a basis, that something is broad is HELL for me. like i really need to think things over and make sure it makes sense and it’s just hard. i struggle but i’m trying.

rjgnkjsgkjsdhfkjshf alright, alright mundane jobs for earth-bound bts:

jin: cafeteria lady (sorry bb), everyone loves him, his station’s the cleanest, and no one hates him like............. at all. not even Boss, who everyone FEARS

yoongi: janitor but not really he doesn’t clean and his boss loves him too much to make him do work

hobi: retail worker bc he will not let any atrocity walk out of the store no matter what, doesn’t need his powers to get anyone to buy anything, makes pouches A Thing

joon: librarian, likes to observe ppl, somehow likes humanity even tho we’re messes (”aren’t we all messes, after all?”)

jimin & tae: delivery boys aka the bats bc they move like they’re coming straight out of hell

jungkook: mcd cashier, hates his job, sometimes gives people melted ice cream bc they looked at him funny

#sjsu anon #Anonymous #answered

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ib-suffering · 5 years

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Update #3

Sooo this is a continuation of my other two updates that I posted recently. If you haven't read those and are interested in reading my thoughts on my exams, the results, and the advice I may have on any of the courses I took; they're not too far down on my blog, so they shouldn't be too hard to find (and I'm not just saying this bc I couldn't get the urls to hyperlink them on mobile 😅). But I did promise that I would finish my updates with information on my first year of college and what I've been up to recently.

Alrighty, so I spent my first year of college at Boise State University (I'll probably shorten it to BSU for most of this post).

For those of you who have never heard of Boise State, let me give you the highlights. Smack dab in the middle of downtown Boise, Idaho lies Idaho's top research institution. Which is promotional talk for: "We're a college football giant that also happens to have some sciences and liberal arts." BSU is obsessed with their football team, the players admired like celebrities, and game days turning most of the small city into a ghost town, the exception being the the small campus. That being said, BSU is very much a party school, even though it is technically a dry campus (a mistake, if you ask me, given the thousands of dollars they could make serving alcohol at games, but I digress). Boise itself is a beautiful city, and the convenience of campus being downtown and the beautiful weather from April-October makes it a treat to live in. Campus is beautiful, being right on the Boise River (which became a place I frequented when I needed a minute to myself). And Idaho itself is a beautiful state, though most of it is empty hills/farm land. This was a hard transition for me. Though my family is from Iowa (a state very similar to Idaho in many respects), I have spent most of my life in Vegas, a city that has been dubbed "the city that never sleeps" for a reason. Boise is much quieter. Most places close around 8, the rest at 10. And for someone who would take a break from homework to go grab a drink from the convenience store at 1 am, this was a shock for me. And I was very much still in that 11pm to 3 am grind from high school. Aside from that, I had mostly great professors. I am a bio major. And am planning on adding on anthropology as a second major. I bonded fast with my bio professors. I was very friendly with my comm prof, my profs, and my anthro profs. I had an on-going friendly hockey rivalry with one of my bio profs and the student teacher for my anthro class (Go Knights Go!). One of my anthro profs even offered me the opportunity to work further with him on a project I had for his classes. He was impressed with my work and I adored him as a teacher and was excited to work one-on-one with him, especially since he has a reputation for being a harsh grader. If I could impress someone like that, then I was excited to do so over and over again.

So here's the tough part to admit. I'm not at BSU right now. I'm in Vegas (which, for those that do not know, is home for me). And not in school. And know that this is difficult for me. I went from the constant grind of the IB program to sitting at home trying to get my life together. And it's been hard to accept this. Especially, especially because of the amazing opportunity I was offered. I was so proud to have been offered this as a freshman. But, I know that I have made the right choice. And my professor was very understanding, for which I am grateful, and I hope you will be too. And more than anything, I want you to take something from this story that I am about to tell. I know this has been a long post so far, and if you're still here, thank you. But stay buckled, because we're at the beginning of a saga. There will be some highs and some lows, a lot of drama with some comedic relief, and a story of friendship, how it may bitterly end or triumph over all other things. Enjoy.

Allow me to introduce you to our cast (Names will be shortened to a letter or two to keep things relatively anonymous. Shit does go down and there will be secret sharing in the hope that I can give valid advice in its wake):

L- a roommate of mine

M- another roommate

A- another roommate

C- yet another roommate, but she joins the cast a bit later

J- a great friend, met at BSU but he also happens to be from Vegas

R- an unlikely friend

T- M's friend

AG- a small group of army guys that join in later

K-potential love-interest

And I think that'll do. Now, onto the story!

I lived in a suite-style dorm. Four of us lived there, each of with individual rooms. The basic layout was two bedrooms and a bathroom on each side of the dorm with a living room, laundry unit, and kitchen in the middle. M and I shared one side while A and L shared the other. All of us were relatively shy and were placed together randomly as we hadn't used the roommate-selection app the school used. But we didn't have much issue at the beginning. I first bonded with A, introducing her to another friend early on. M and I bonded quickly as well seeing as we shared our own hall. L is fairly shy, so it took awhile longer, but it turned out that her and I just naturally click and still have a fantastic friendship to this day (Read: the same cannot be said for others in this story). L, M, and I easily worked around each other, with each other. A spent most time in her room or at work, but things still seemed pleasant with her. However, she didn't seem like she wanted to hang out with us whenever we did things as a group, so we stopped knocking on her door to ask.

Over the next many weeks, things grew more tense. It was gradual, so none of us were fully aware at the time, but looking back, it was obvious. M invited me to go with her to T's apartment one night. Her and I were interested in drinking (side note: it's up to you imo if you wish to drink in college, but I will insist: always have someone sober around. They will make sure you are safe the the location you are at, get home safe, and will be there for you to help you through your lowest moments and to recount them with you in the morning). T had alcohol. We partaked a little, and I got to get to know T and his roommate, K. It was a good night.

The next night, however, was the breaking point. M and I went over to T and K's again, but this time they took us to a party a floor below their's. We definitely had more to drink that night. I discovered my bartending skills that night, M found her limit and blacked out, and K and I got to hang out a bit more. K had a sober friend that drove us back to the dorm that night. They also helped us upstairs (remember, sober friend). M and I were definitely loud and giggling, and A came out her room to yell at us about not being able to sleep because of our behavior and our upstairs neighbors partying (a nightly occurrence). She went back to her room, slamming the door behind her. L also came out of her room, but instead of yelling at us, she help us through the drunkenness and eventual vomiting, staying up the whole night to do so.

The favour was repaid when M and I picked her up from her first party and walked her home. We stayed by the bathroom all night to make sure she was okay. And it was good to be able to repay the favour.

A felt alienated. And as I said before, that night was the breaking point. The next day, M, L, and I woke up to a letter on our kitchen table outlining her grievances. She didn't feel like our friend. We didn't invite her out anymore, we weren't there for her when she needed us, and she felt like it had to do with our drinking and her not wanting to.

The three of us sat on my side of the dorm, with the hall door closed. And we read the letter and talked it through. We felt bad that she felt that way, but we knew that we never intended that. And that we couldn't be blamed for it all. And that a letter shouldn't have been left for us. That if we were going to resolve this, we would do it in person. This is lesson number two. Resolve things face to face. Children fight through notes/texts/letters. As adults, we knew that we had to sit down together and talk it through. It's hard. You will be nervous. But it made that conversation better. We invited her out and it was awkward. But we went down the list. We made compromises, we learned more about each other. And though things were still tense afterwards, no one felt uncomfortable in their own home. And that's what mattered.

Fast forward to the end of the semester. A moved out. It wasn't because of us, she also had family problems and she wanted to move in with her boyfriend in Texas. We understood and left things on amicable terms. They're engaged now. I'm happy for them.

January. New semester. M, L, and I are living well. T comes over occasionally. K does too, he's also our alc plug. Him and I are still talking, but not much is happening there. I haven't mentioned C yet, but we met her the previous semester, but start hanging out more this semester. She knows that A moved out and is interested in moving in with us. We originally agreed, but after talking about it amongst the three of us, we weren't sure about it. Nevertheless, she moves in.

And it seems to be going well, and we made friends with J through a friend of her's. We host people often, and I play bartender. One of these nights, we run into K and invite him and a neighbor over to play cards. K and I flirt a little, but I was also busy hosting. C and K meet for the first time here.

They start hanging out a bit, and I don't think much of it. Then, she starts gushing over him, talking about his eyes and what their kids would look like. It felt obvious that she was far more into him than I was. So I was nice about it, and let it be.

She ended up just sleeping with him and dropping him only to trash talk him to M, L, and I. This is not the only time she had done this to the guys we had met and become friends with, including T and J, who we met through a guy she did this to. T and J were pretty much her only fails. I bring this up because it had an affect on the rest of us. I'm all for doing whatever you want as long as everyone consents, but this was not just affecting her and it was toxic.

It was difficult to make friends. It stirred up drama. And it lead to the next breaking point. In February, (for context, this is just a few weeks after she moved in), the AG drove out to stay with us for a weekend. C was interested in one of them. So was M. He was interested in M. C is getting upset over this, and decides to demand that M leave for the rest of the weekend. I didn't want her to, but C was already talking shit about me to other people and I didn't want to stir up more drama. Neither did L. I guess we hadn't learned our lesson.

M moved out. And this time it was completely our fault. And I felt awful. I tried to apologize. L did too. But the damage was done. And the bond that I had formed with M was instantaneously gone. I understood it was for the better and M left us with one request: do something about C.

L and I left that night. She wanted to go home for the night, feeling sick about the whole thing. I asked to go along. I didn't have classes the next day. We spent almost the whole night driving around talking it through. M was right, but we didn't know where to start with C. So we sat there, exploring the city, sober as could be (literally and metaphorically), and made a pact that we wouldn't let the same happen to either one of us.

We couldn't be direct about it. A talk wouldn't help. Actions speak louder than words. Because not only were L and I more strict. Not allowing ourselves give in to her whims, but we also had J. He especially didn't given in. And that frustrated her. L spent more time on her own, talking to me when she could. That frustrated her. I spent more time on my own, getting more work done. Shutting myself into my hall and letting the guilt sink in. I even invited over M and T to chat and collect her forgotten things while she was away. I wasn't going to be there to allow her to use us for her habits. And that frustrated her. She wanted the attention and she got none. And lo-and-behold, she started shit talking me again. To L. And everyone she met. It did nothing.

Here comes in R. He was the next one in a string of guys that she was using and cheating on. We didn't expect for him to be around long. None of them were, but C headed home for a weekend and suggested we invite him to hang out. Okay. I did. And both times he came over were great, he easily slipped into a friendship with L, J, and I.

He asked L and I to be honest with him. He felt insecure about the relationship he had with C. Though we were hesitant to say anything, he insisted that he would rather have the truth.

Okay. Have it.

And we knew he'd be better for it. And he was. And so was our friendship. And C was pissed. But she didn't know it was us who said anything. But she decided that he left her for L. And accused her of it.

Nope. He just needed us to be good friends. And he stuck around. And that infuriated her. And we found it easier to stand up against her fits because of it. Don't want him around? Sorry, he's our friend. And maybe you think we're horrible people for that, but we had put up with enough. And it was about time we fulfilled our promise to M.

And soon enough, C moved out. Not because of us, but other reasons. And R kinda moved in (not that our RA knew). R, J, L, and I were happy amongst ourselves for what was the last month of the school year.

Now, that was a lot. I know, I'm sorry. But I hope it was at least an interesting read. It wasn't everything that happened. And I purposely left some stuff out. Though I made an effort to keep things anon, some secrets are not mine to tell. Even if you'll never know these individuals, but especially because you don't know them.

While all of this was happening, I made poor decisions otherwise in regards to drinking. My friends back home were worried. My mental health was going down fast. Previously discussed events may have contributed, but I did push aside self-care in high school in favour of doing school work. And with a less-occupied mind in college, the symptoms only grew worse and perhaps that lead to more drinking. I'm not sure, but I do know that I wasn't doing well at all by the time spring break rolled around. And I worried those closest to me. And they made that clear this summer.

On top of that, BSU is out-of-state for me. And those problems from home didn't go away. And my experience was made worse by that, the events described here and many more, and my financials. I know most in America struggle to pay for school, but it was such a burden on me. It made it difficult to sleep at night, the focus on work, and loomed over every experience I had.

So, the lesson to be learned here is this: take care of yourself. Know your limits. I know it's easier said than done, but it's the only thing that will get you through college. I needed out of an environment that was causing me grief and guilt. I needed to address the problems I had been putting off. And I needed to be realistic about the types of stress I can handle. School, though stressful at times, is an easier stress to handle because the solution is relatively easy to achieve. Financial stressors are difficult to handle because they're long term and can affect how I live the rest of my life (not to say school doesn't, but you can go back to school at 40 but most of us will still be paying for the schooling we got at 18 when we're 40). I still owe BSU money, but not much. And I'm working on paying it off. And then I want to transfer in-state. Get the cheap tuition. My scholarship. And more stability.

BSU wasn't all bad, but it wasn't good for me either. And there's no shame in taking a break and transferring elsewhere. And I had to convince myself of that. And it's still hard to cope with the idea some days. But I'm happier overall. And I've maintained my friendships with L, R, and J. And they all understand.

Again, I'm sorry this was such a long read. But I hope you've gained something from this. If anybody actually read this far... In fact, if you had, could you do me a solid and leave a reply or drop something in my inbox? It'll be nice to know if someone actually read all of this. And thank you so much if you had. I really appreciate it.

#ib suffering #ib #ib problems #international baccalaureate #college #sorry this is long #i think i lied about the comedy #oops #sorry #usually my sadness is disguised by jokes #but this was long enough ig

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leslea · 5 years

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Can Pesky Tarnation Strand Ducks?

It’s the age old question, isn’t it?

C-PTSD. Do you know what that is? I did, but I didn’t, not really.

In the 1990s when I was first diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), the psychologist who gave the diagnosis commented that “sometimes, people experience trauma after trauma, so that it’s not just one event that leads to PTSD, but a series of events.” That blew my mind.

What I’d known about PTSD up to that point was very little, but essentially it centered around “shellshock” and Gulf War Vet syndrome. I knew I had gone through a hard time, but I didn’t know that I had PTSD. I just knew I was reliving certain events wherein attempts were made on my life. I knew I was basing nearly all my daily decisions around my safety from certain people who I had not seen in years, and I knew that wasn’t normal. I knew I couldn’t sleep. I knew I wanted to sleep, so badly.

Now, a solid 20+ years later, I have learned there is an emerging diagnostic label called Complex PTSD. Unlike your run of the mill, vanilla PTSD (ha! HAAaaaa!!!) that had me crawling on the floor of my house like a Vietnam Vet afraid of Charlie, C-PTSD is the kind of situation my original therapist was describing. C-PTSD doesn’t come from just one event. It comes from a series of events, typically in childhood. There was no diagnostic test for it at the time, and it’s not yet in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5), so it will probably be a few years before specialized treatments are developed for this particular bag of nuts.

So why does it matter? Why do I care? I’m a well-adjusted adult woman, I’m a good mother and wife, I am helpful and kind to neighbors and friends, I’m a good citizen, etc., etc. I’m not some nutcase, right? What does C-PTSD have to do with me? Most days there is nothing wrong with me that a little wine or chocolate can’t fix.

Here’s the thing. Upon my son’s diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder, I realized that I, too, am very likely on the spectrum. It explains a lot of why & how I process inputs the way I do. It also explains the way my memory functioned until the past eight years or so. I was never an expert on PTSD, but I felt like I had my symptoms and stress level under control, so I didn’t need to be an expert. I’m reading all the time about ASD now, and dealing with a teenager on the spectrum who is being traumatized by ongoing bullying. Parsing everything he is going through, trying to deal with his reactions (some angry and destructive), trying to shield him from disciplinary actions he does not deserve--all while waiting in limbo for our letter from BDDS so we can receive services that might help him (hey, no guarantees) to live a better life...all while mothering three other children with the same level of need as any other kid. It’s a lot. It has thrown me into autistic shutdown mode. That’s not fun, but that’s not the thing. The thing is the emotional flashbacks.

Emotional flashbacks. Emotional fucking flashbacks? Seriously? Emotional flashbacks.

Yes, they are a thing. I’ve had these from time-to-time for years, although for the past eight or nine years of marriage to Tim, I’ve had them so much less. (Funny what being LOVED by a reciprocal partner will do for your mental health, huh?) Rarely do I feel so badly that I can’t tell him how I’m feeling, but that happened over the weekend.

You know that tipping point where you feel so badly, you can’t bear the pain, and the only obvious escape is death? If you’ve never felt that way, then you are so blessed. As I’ve matured and made my life less populated with problematic people, I’ve experienced that feeling less and less. I’ve grown. Sometimes I feel strong. I remind myself when I am very low that these feelings always pass. I’m blessed to have lots of hugs and loving, sweet faces to remind me that I’ll be grateful for pushing on. I push on. Things get better. I move away from the sad episodes and do healthy things for myself--take a walk, get a massage, meditate, take my vitamins, make fresh juice, call a friend, listen to a novel on audiobook while I accomplish a household chore...it’s called self-care. I do that stuff. It doesn’t fix the wounds/scars deep down inside me, but it puts me back up on the level of human-kind. Away from the worms. Or maybe I should say the Pesky Tarnation. I do my damnedest to get past the past (ha) and be fully in the now, even if the now is extra advanced level difficulty and I’m forever a novice.

This weekend I found a book about C-PTSD. It’s an audiobook. It was quite informative. It helped me understand so much about myself, and about my problematic stress response to parenting challenges. All of this preceeding text is an introduction so I can share it with you, just in case you need it. I checked it out from hoopla on audiobook for free, but here it is on Amazon: Complex PTSD : From Surviving to Thriving: A GUIDE AND MAP FOR RECOVERING FROM CHILDHOOD TRAUMA by Pete Walker.

If you find yourself in the pages of that book, there’s also a nice reddit community I’d like you to meet: CPTSD on reddit. I don’t post there, but it has been helpful to read the stories and even to laugh at the memes.

I don’t like to lose myself in the hole of self-diagnosis and all that stuff too much. I just know that I need psychic first aid at times and in ways that no one ever talks about, no one ever demonstrates in books, movies, or songs, and I’ve never understood why. Like, I knew I had a rough start, but why couldn’t I overcome my past entirely and put all of that behind me and just be unencumbered by it? A great majority of people seem like they can do this, and I’m obviously not so dysfunctional as to require disability and full-time care or anything like that, so...why? Why intermittently break down?

I don’t know. I’m a stranded duck, sometimes, but I can, and do get past it. I don’t share this often, but sometimes, the pain is back, and it’s so loud, I can’t even speak. I can’t ask for help. I can’t tell Tim I need him to hold me. I can’t drown out the voice in my head telling me that I should just die because the pain will never get better. I certainly can’t text a friend or call someone or announce it to FB.

All I can do is get through it the best I can, until I reach a point I can apply a little bit of self-care.

Today is World Autism Day and people are posting about ASD, so here I am posting about C-PTSD, lawl, bc of course I am. My ex-husband used to criticize me for becoming defensive and angry after opening up emotionally. He wasn’t wrong. I will hit publish on this and then regret it, burning inside like I’m on fire. It will eat at me and I will feel immense shame, although I know full well I did nothing wrong, and endeavor daily to do so many things right.

If you’ve read this far, please leave a kind word. Any kind word will do.

#cptsd #ptsd #not really about ducks #world autism day #asd #what in tarnation

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thelastchair · 5 years

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Wayward

(Written by Isaac Walden - March 8, 2019)

I can remember talking to a sales person at a little outdoor store in Eastern Washington; I was no older than seventeen and we were talking about a photo of a mountain that hung on the wall, Abercrombie Hooknose. The sales person said, “so many mountains, so little time.” It resonated with me; a radical looking peak in a range that I didn’t even know existed. That statement was enough to kick start a young impressionable mind into motion.

Since then I have spent countless days thinking about snowfall and mountains, so much so, that if it were in University I’d be a Doctor, or in the private sector, a Journeyman. Countless hours spent looking at weather models and forecasts. Looking at avalanche bulletin after bulletin. I have gone “all-in” on one location only to have Mother Nature call my feeble pocket threes. She throws down wind or the dreaded warm-up, or simply sends the whole house of cards crashing down to the valley with a simple turn of “the avalanche triangle.” Sending me wayward, to look for my story down another road.

In chasing winters coattails, totally unexpected things happen. The memories, time and time again, come from the people you meet. It’s the locals that might think skiing is a ridiculous sport that holds no monetary value, are the stories.

It’s the two cowboys in Elko, Nevada having a casual conversation over breakfast about a few newborn calves that where born with no hair, “it’s the darndest thing…”

It’s the lady in Riggins, Idaho, bare foot in a shirt proudly declaring “drinks well with others” sticking her head out the window of her truck and yelling “ I’m the woman of your dreams” and promptly jamming her exposed foot on the throttle of the late 90’s GMC. The truck shutters and draws a straight line into the snow covered road we had just snowmobiled down. The arrow like trajectory of the truck now interrupted by hub deep snow, bounces and sways in an erratic swimming fashion, until it disappears behind the curves of the mountain road, only to appear again shortly after. The lady stops the GMC, steps out, and breaks into a full on nunchaku demonstration.

It’s the old timers in Hyder, Alaska: Russ, with a short grey beard and cloudy blue eyes who had somehow tricked his wife into moving out of the lower 48. Dean, who spent most of his life in every imaginable corner of Alaska and now seems to pass his time flirting with Russ’ wife; and Bill, a traveling mechanic on the Cassiar Highway, living in the neighboring town of Stewart, but bought a house in Hyder so he didn’t have to pass through BC Customs after the Glacier Inn Bar closes. The three of these guys would come by our camp to check on us daily, usually with a beer in their laps as the drove the five miles of United States infrastructure available to them because that’s what you do in a lawless land locked corner of The Last Frontier. Often, they would find their way to our campfire at the end of the road where they would blast polka “Nufie Music” and tell us tales of winters past.

It’s the geology lesson put on by a guy living in a teepee in Lamoille Canyon, Nevada.

It’s playing pool in the Mineshaft Pub in Bralorne, BC. It’s having beers with the locals at the Yacht Club in McCall, Idaho or the Brick in Rosslyn, Washington or The Village Idiot or Last Drop in Revelstoke, BC. It’s a glimpse into small town North America that will resonate with you.

vimeo

#skiing #powder #backcountry #junkshow media house #last chair #full wingspan #travel #tahoe #yacht club

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everything-in-particular · 7 years

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1-100 also 😘

Honestly I deserve this payback. This is gonna take forever to answer.

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

More cereal

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

I don’t know what winter is I live in Texas

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

I use literally whatever I have in my hand at the time, paper clips, snickers wrappers. There’s no cute bookmarkes It’s all dog ears and trash.

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?

In large quantities and in many different ways. Coffee, black with some sort of flavor. If not that then just coffee and creamer, no sugar. Tea is usually chai or black just with milk.

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

No! And No one should be! Smiles to me are the most attractive thing about people.

6: do you keep plants?

I’ve had a succulent for six months and I have not watered it nor cared for it and it’s still alive so…

7: do you name your plants?

I have another succulent that has five stems and my friend named them all after the scooby doo gang.

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

I don’t have feelings. But I have literally exhausted all artistic mediums.

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

My favorite thing to do is belt out songs when I’m home alone or driving in a car so yeah.

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

Trick question I don’t sleep

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

I have too many. With my best friend sometimes we just scream old people names at each other in text.

Example:

Bff: ALFRED

Me: BERNARD

Bff: ALTHEA

Me: KEITH

Bff: KEITH!!!

And then with a couple other friends we have one where we yell the “Where are you” from Blink 182’s “I miss you”

12: what’s your favorite planet?

This one. Its really nice. lov the oxygen. having rings lik saturn here would be neato but its cool.

13: what’s something that made you smile today?

I was planning to make brownies tonight and then I gave up half way through so I just ate brownie batter and it was great, college is great.

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

It’d be one of those open industrial plans with lofts and spiral stair cases and wooden frames on the ceiling. Big windows

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

if two untreated metals in space touch they will bond permanently bc there is no oxygen to form an oxidized layer around the metal. Dont wear earings in the vaccum of space i guess. You’ll never be able to take the backings off

6: what’s your favorite pasta dish?

All.

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

Green

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

We had the cops called on us because on of my friends barked at my neighbors dog.

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

I have my notes on my phone and in it are about 807 entries ranging from random shit like a single word “zoo” with no context or explanation. Entire novels that I was writing and gave up on the last chapter, also conversations with no context between characters that I made up that have no names. Also, recipes for stupid things like Mac and cheese balls, ideas for artwork/stories/products. Essentially nothing is finished. I also have around 10 sketchbooks that have never been completed.

20: what’s your favorite eye color?

All of them but the ones that are like brown and then transition to blueish greenish at the edges at trippy and cool.

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

I struggle with bags and purses. I always leave them places. This is why I am a very passionate advocate for womens clothing to have bigger pockets

22: are you a morning person?

If by morning do you mean when I wake up at 2pm? Because even then no. Don’t talk to me when I’ve woken up.

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

Sleep

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

Yeah it’s really nice.

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

Not weird just a new house that hadn’t been bought yet.

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

See I get a pair like that once a year and I’ll wear the shit out of it then they get holes and I have to get rid of them.

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?

Mint. I hate the taste of bubble gum flavor bubble gum

28: sunrise or sunset?

If I’m awake to see a sunrise I am not a happy person that shits too early. Sunset all the way

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

Exist

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

Yeah. I’ve been absolutely freaking terrified.

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

I like cool socks and I enjoy wearing socks but also I cannot be bothered to actually find a pair to put on in the morning so I never wear socks.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

Literally every fun story happens after 3 am, id be here all day.

33: what’s your fave pastry?

I fucking love Pillsberry Crescent croissants. Like don’t give me legit croissants made in France, I won’t like it as much as pillsberry.

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

It’s name is Chicky and it’s actually I think supposed to be a stuffed duck, but I was 2 so I called it Chicky. Fun fact, my mom and everyone would ask me if Chicky was a a boy or a girl because I would call it he and she interchangeably and usually just Chicky. And my response would always be. “It’s just Chicky” and then they would ask “but is it a boy or girl?” And my three year old self was just like “??? Are you not paying attention? It’s a Chicky” so yeah I was fighting gender normatively at a young age, I was a pretty woke 3 year old.

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

I’m hella picky about nice pens but I don’t care how they look just how they write.

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?

Of Monsters and Men

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

It’s not that I like keeping it messy but it will always always always be untidy.

38: tell us about your pet peeves!

When people speak for me. Like when someone asks me a question and then someone else goes “Well Annaleise doesn’t want to-” or something along the lines of that. Like I’m right here and I can speak for myself thanks.

39: what color do you wear the most?

Gray.

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?

I gotta small silver rose necklace that I got for my 16th birthday. And I haven’t taken it off since. I used always love painting and drawing and making a doodling roses. And my mom picked up on it and gave me the necklace.

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

Always Harry Potter.

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

I’m a slave to Starbucks but there’s a cute place on our campus called The Nook and it’s super hipster and they have huge chalk board walls for people to draw on which I love and of course they have great coffee.

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

Fourth of July a couple years ago with my cousins. My aunts house is on a lake and the sky is super clear and we could see satellites orbiting. First time I’ve ever seen satellites. Super cool.

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

Spring break when I finally got back home from college I took a heavy dose of Benadryl because of allergies and I woke up in my own bed feeling soft and sleepy and I had not responsibilities at the moment and it was great.

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

Do people not?

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.

No puns are the worst. but what do you call a cat who bought a house? A hoMEOWner

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

Coleslaw and coconut water

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

I used to be terrified of lava and tornadoes and while I can’t say I’ve ever seen lava I now go outside whenever there’s a tornado siren so see if I can spot the tornadoes. Now my biggest fear is failure. Isn’t that fun?

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

I like the aesthetic of record players but I do not have the patience to actually go out and buy one, pull out a record, and put it on to listen to the music. 1) because I’m all about instant gratification bc I have like no self control so if I can play it in two seconds on my phone then why would I go through all the trouble of a record and 2) I rarely like all the songs from an album. My music taste is all over the place so even if I like a band I like maybe 3 of there songs and they’d be from different albums.

50: what’s an odd thing you collect?

I collected coke cans and bottles. Like any special/old/limited edition coke cans or bottles I would keep them. I have a whole shelf in my closet. I now collect mugs.

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

My brother and Kid Cudi’s “Mr. Rager”

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

The funniest and most random to me has been the “Cask of Amontillado” meme. Also Bone apple tea and student athlete memes kill me idk why.

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

I fuck with Heathers (but the musical) and I have seen beetlejuice but it’s been a while. Not seen the others tho.

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

My mom.

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

When I was younger I saw in a movie that trick where you put a chair against a door handle to block people from getting in so I used to do it whenever I got mad at my mom.

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?

I like when people get in a silly mood.

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

I can’t not dramatically reenact the lyrics and I don’t trust people who don’t.

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?

In all groups of friends I’m usually the vodka aunt.

59: what’s your favorite myth?

The Trojan Horse has always been hilarious to me because sneaking a whole army into a city through a wooden horse they made sounds like something I would come up with. It’s ridiculous but it still worked.

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

Yes, and not to be mainstream but Edgar Allen Poe is my bro and according to my grandma we’re related to him through his cousin. But in middle school I had a really awesome English teacher who was obsessed with him and I basically know “The Raven” “Tell Tale Heart” “The cask of Amontillado” and “Annabelle Lee” memorized because of her.

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

I once gave a kids bop CD wrapped in candy canes for a white elephant. At another white elephant I recieved fabric sleeves that had tattoo graphics on them but it didn’t match my skin color. It was great.

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

TBH I don’t eat or drink until like 3 pm

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

Nothing in my life is organized.

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

Black

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

Many people.

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

It’d have a bunch of different kinds of flowers that don’t match.

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

Super peaceful and chill.

68: what’s winter like where you live?

What is winter?

69: what are your favorite board games?

I loved Candyland as a kid.

70: have you ever used a ouija board?

FUCK.THAT.

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?

Chai and Black tea

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

Yes I do need to jot everything down because I will forget. But do I? No.

73: what are some of your worst habits?

Touching bad skin on my face.

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

A super brave and bad ass who also has deep feelings and really cares a lot. Super creative and really hilarious. hot shit. coolest person i know

75: tell us about your pets!

I have a Maltipoo named Poppy and I love her. She’s super sassy and really smart. And yells at me through howling when she wants to play, usually with a toy in her mouth so it sounds super muffled and anything but intimidating.

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

Yeah actually I have a huge fucking project. I gotta make 3 vases for my Studio but instead I’m answering 100 questions. It’s my own fault tho. I started it.

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

Pink

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

Minions need to die

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

If anyone ever says “I was thinking about you the other day and-” it’s my favorite thing

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

White because it came with the house. I hate it.

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

a cool pillow

82: are/were you good in school?

I tested well and was good at essays but I was bad about turning in shit. So yes and no.

83: what’s some of your favorite album art?

Fleet Foxes

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

In theory I love tattoos and in theory I really want one. Will I ever be able to decide on a design? We shall see. Also my mom told us that if any of us got tattooed she’s dissown us.

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

I don’t like buy comic books but I’m obsessed with all things marvel and D.C. And so I’ll read online stuff.

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?

Idk what this is so i googled it and i still don’t have an opinion of it.

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

Forest Gump, The Princess Bride, Star Wars.

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

Impressionism, specifically Monet, specifically “The Magpie”

89: are you close to your parents?

I tell them a lot but I also have to withhold a lot. My mom is pretty, uhh strict, conservative and you could say narrow minded. My dad is a little more relaxed but he always goes along with whatever my mom says so I’m careful.

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.

I’ve literally only been once but I really loved Pittsburgh. I liked the industrial vibe. I liked how it felt like a small town and a big city at the same time.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

My family’s trying to go to Canada so I’m excited for that.

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

Drowns in cheese

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

Ponytail, bun, in a hat, in a beanie, basically any way but down. I have a limited attention span and any time my hair gets in the way I go crazy.

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

My sister! She’s thirteen! Its ridiculous yesterday she was 6!

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

Working my ass off to finish this project and then little party I’m throwing in my dorm. The party I can already tell is a bad idea. Still gonna happen tho.

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

I have not updated my phone nor computer in years (not really but it takes a fucking while)

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

ENTP, Taurus, Ravenclaw

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

A few years ago and yes I wish I lived somewhere where I could do it all the time.

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

Float on by Modest mouse is my life’s theme song

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

Future. It’d be awesome to skip four years of this brutal program and arrive with a degree and a job. Five Years in the past means i gotta go through highschool again. Fuck That shit.

OKAY DONE SORRY FOR THE LONG ASS POST BLAME @jak

#aboutme

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