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meichenxi · 3 years

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Ooh anything about linguistics and/or Chinese linguistics that interests you- what do you find most interesting?

Ooooo thank you! First let me apologise for the lack of rigour i.e. sources - I am ILL.

HMMMMM ok...let me talk a little bit about one thing I find fascinating - the idea of 'linguistic complexity'. It's an interesting topic that a) demonstrates the failures of linguistics that only takes Indo-European languages into account; b) demonstrates how a conflation of linguistic and moral judgements leads to absolute chaos; and c) proves that sometimes the purpose of all models and hypotheses is to be a useful aid in description, and not to be 100% accurate. Which means that multiple models can exist at the same time. Also, it shows just how cool Classical Chinese is.

I'm going to make this into two posts because I have been asked to wax lyrical on this stuff twice...this one will be a general overview of what linguistic complexity is and some of the issues around it, and the other post (@karolincki 's ask) will be an overview of these issues as pertaining to Modern and Classical Chinese.

Linguistic complexity: an introduction

What is linguistic complexity? Basically what it says on the tin: how 'simple' or 'complex' is one language in relation to another. If you automatically think that sounds dodgy - aren't all languages equally complex? what is a simple language? etc - just hold on. We'll get there.

A very important starting point: complexity here only refers to linguistic complexity. There are many ways to measure this, but broadly speaking it refers to the amount of stuff in a language a learner has to deal with. Are there genders? Well, that's more complex than not having any, because it's an extra thing to remember. Do you have to express whether the information you're conveying is something you personally experienced or hearsay? Again, more complex than not. Different tenses? Essentially, you can look at complexity like this: if you were describing this language or putting it into a computer program, what is the minimum length of description you would need? The longer the description, the more complex the language. In a standard understanding of complexity, a language like English is more complex than a language like Vietnamese (English has more tenses, moods, conjugations, irregularity...), and a language like Georgian is more complex than a language like English (Google a single verb table of Georgian and you will see what I mean).

(this will be long)

What complexity does not mean is anything to do with the cognitive abilities of the people who speak it. It doesn't mean that people who speak English are unable to conceive of the difference between a dual and a plural (2 apples and 3 apples), just because the language doesn't mark it. It doesn't mean people who speak Chinese are unable to conceive of the past conditional ('I should have gone...') just because they don't have a separate tense for it. It doesn't mean Italian speakers don't know whether they experienced the thing themselves, or heard about it from someone else, just because they don't have a set verb ending for it. All linguistic complexity means is what the language requires you to express.

I'm putting this out there very clearly because this sort of thinking is bound up in a lot of racist ideas and ideology. You'll have heard of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis? Unfortunately named, since they never really worked together, and Edward Sapir was actually a relatively cool dude for the time who argued against linguistic relativity - i.e. the language you speak determines how you think. Yes, in the 19th (and much of the 20th) century, when certain linguists referred to 'simple' and 'complex' languages that is what many of them meant: speakers of a simple language are 'simple', and a complex one are 'complex'. But there was a huge backlash against these racist ideas, and that backlash was hugely influential is shaping the direction of typology (the branch of linguistics which is broadly concerned with these sorts of questions). More on that later, but for now: please understand that when I say linguistic complexity, I am not implying a single thing about the people that speak it.

Back to complexity. Of course language, like any system, is made up of moving parts: you don't just need to consider how many parts it has, but also how interdependent they are, whether they interact with each other in a predictable way, how likely they are to change. You might also want to consider how easy the system is to learn for somebody who has never used it before. And then, of course, languages are more complex still because they are not machines, but ever-changing things: do you count a rule like the conditional inversion in English, which only applies to a total of three verbs? Is that less complex because fewer verbs use it - and therefore you need to think about it less - or does that make the system more complex because you need another, meta-rule to say when you need to use it and when not? What about irregularity? Is a language like English that doesn't have many rules but has a sizeable amount of 'irregular' verbs more or less complicated than a language like Swahili which has a lot more rules, but follows them assiduously? And what happens when some people use one rule and others don't - do you count those as the same language (lumping), which may render the grand overview less accurate, or do you count them as totally separate languages (splitting), in which case when do you stop?

Hmm. Complexity. Is. Complex.

Those are a lot of factors that need to be considered here. Even saying something is 'irregular' doesn't mean very much without further quantification. For example, if I say that the 'irregular' verb ring goes to ring, rang, rung in English, you can very easily find other verbs which conjugate similarly: sing, sang, sung etc. So is that really irregular? Or is it just another, less productive rule? But then if it's a rule, why do we say fling, flung, flung and not yesterday I flang the ball? What's going on???

And what about 'total' irregularity, so called 'suppletion', where (and this is a very scientific explanation) a random non-related word just seems to appear in a paradigm, like it's got lost on the way home? Like I go, I went; like to be, I am, he is, I were; like good, better, best. Ok, so is the irregularity in I go and I went somehow....more irregular than irregularity in I sing and I sang? Uhh. Ok. And then is the irregularity in bad, worse, worst somehow more irregular than better and best, because at least for better and best you can see the -er and -st endings?? Finally, what about a 'spoken' but very predictable irregularity, such as the way we have a reduced vowel in 'says'? Where do we count that? Is that more irregular, or less irregular? Is it maybe 33% irregular?

I think you get the point. And of course all of this becomes more complex when you start to consider the interaction of lots of different systems at once. What about tone? If you have regular tone like Chinese, most people would agree that it's more complex because it's an added thing. But tone probably only developed in part as a response to losing some really important sound contrasts that other languages have kept...and also there is no possibilities of 'irregularities' in tone the way there are in something like verb conjugation...you can't just have a random sixth tone. And then what about syntax? If you have lots of very complex word ordering rules, is that more or less complex than a language where you have to rely on the human being to use pragmatics to infer what the ever loving fuck is going on?

Yeah. This is sort of just one of those things where every year a new linguist comes up with a spicy new matrix to 'measure' complexity and then everyone shits on them in journals and then comes up with their own idea which is promptly shat on. I don't know either.

Ok, so how is this relevant to Chinese?

To answer that question we need to circle round a bit to the history of typology that I vaguely alluded to earlier. At various points - depending on how racist the linguist in question was - people in the 20th century were starting to realise that all of this stuff about 'complex language = complex civilisation / complex thought' wasn't quite as water-tight as they'd hoped. Perhaps it was their better judgement, but it's also likely to have been influenced by a lot of contact suddenly with Native American languages - many of which are vastly complex by literally any metric you could possibly imagine, but the people speaking them were not colonising other countries and building amphitheatres and all of those necessarily, comfortingly European ideas of 'civilisation'. This movement away from such racist ideology, even if it was fuelled in part by a different type of racism, meant that suddenly everyone was very wary about making statements about linguistic complexity at all. It smacked of all the things they were trying not to be associated with.

I'm going to quote some Edward Sapir here for no other reason than I think it's really unfortunate that he's most famous for something that has the potential for incredibly racist ideology that he literally never said:

'Intermingled with this scientific prejudice and largely anticipating it was another, a more human one. The vast majority of linguistic theorists themselves spoke languages of a certain type, of which the most fully developed varieties were the Latin and Greek that they had learned in their childhood. It was not difficult for them to be persuaded that these familiar languages represented the “highest” development that speech had yet attained and that all other types were but steps on the way to this beloved “inflective” type. Whatever conformed to the pattern of Sanskrit and Greek and Latin and German was accepted as expressive of the “highest,” whatever departed from it was frowned upon as a shortcoming or was at best an interesting aberration. Now any classification that starts with preconceived values or that works up to sentimental satisfactions is self-condemned as unscientific. A linguist that insists on talking about the Latin type of morphology as though it were necessarily the high-water mark of linguistic development is like the zoölogist that sees in the organic world a huge conspiracy to evolve the race-horse or the Jersey cow.'

People generally began to get the hang of it after this, and stepped away from linguistic classification at all. There was a broad consensus that that sort of thing was done with, a thing of the past. It's kind of funny, because of course people's unwillingness to look at the complexity of language because 'all people are the same' shows that they still think language and culture/cognition are intimately linked! It was done out of a desire to not be racist, but you can't even reach that conclusion unless you have a sneaky secret bit of bioessentialism going on in your sneaky little brain. Because if the complexity of language doesn't reflect the complexity of your thought, why would it matter whether some systems are bigger than others? That they had more parts?

It literally wouldn't matter at all..

So what happened next? Linguists started to revisit these old linguistic classifications and ideas of complexity, but in the hope of proving, instead, that actually all languages were equal. You can definitely see the theoretical aims here: not only is a good from an ideological point of view (again, if you still equate linguistic complexity to complexity of thought), but it's also quite handy if you believe that all human babies approach language learning with the same biological apparatus ('Universal Grammar', if you believe in that, and other cognitive principles). If all babies have the same built-in gear, you sort of want the task they are given to be of roughly the same magnitude. That's one of those things linguists like to call theoretically desirable - which just means it would be neat if it did.

We're getting to Chinese. I promise.

So how you could make systems so vastly different as English and Georgian and Chinese roughly the 'same' level of complexity? One answer is irregularity: languages with huuuuuge verb and noun declensions like Georgian tend to have very little irregularity, where languages with less extensive systems like English tend to keep it around for longer. There are lots of reasons for this I won't go into, but it's a general trend. Irregular systems are more work for the brain to remember, which, predictably, is more 'complex' for a learner to acquire. Compare a language like English and German: German may have more cases and declensions and rules, but once you learn them...that's it. Compare that to English, where you'll be learning phrasal verbs and prepositions as a second language learner until the day you die (and possibly beyond). It's a different type of 'complex', but it's still deserving of the title.

That obviously doesn't work for a language like Chinese. Chinese has no conjugations, and so can't possibly have any irregularity in the same way. But fear not: there are lots and lots and lots of ways in which languages often exhibit what might be called 'complexity tradeoffs': languages with complex tone, for example, almost always have simpler sound systems elsewhere, and many languages with complex case arrangements tend to have free word order. One thing is complex, another...simplex (a word unfortunately genuinely in use).

This seems nice. We like this. It means that the different parts of the same system may be differently sized, but the whole system in total is about the same as any of other language. There’s just one problem: this isn’t how languages seem to work.

For every example of a complexity trade-off you can find, there are other languages which don’t have any such ‘trade off’ at all. There are plenty of languages where grammar is complex and the sound system is complex; or languages like Icelandic and German where there are cases but fairly rigid and fixed word order; or other cases where there is a huge amount of irregularity but also crazy verb systems, and so on. A language like Abkhaz has supposedly 58 consonants in the literary dialect: but it also has insanely complicated grammar. No trade-off there. Finally, it has long been presumed that whilst verb morphology etc is simpler in languages like Chinese, syntax would be more complicated: recently, a number of studies have proved exactly the opposite. Both, in fact, are simpler.

In conclusion, where does this leave us? Whilst the idea behind complexity trade-offs is well-motivated but not totally sound, and whilst these do not always seem to be present in the way you might hope, what this does do is force us as linguists to question whether we have spent enough time considering the types of complexity that are present in languages like Chinese, and how we reconcile that with more ‘familiar’ complexity. It’s interesting to think about because it shows what happens when you fail to consider these things.

That’s all for the overview on linguistic complexity today!! I’ll talk specifically about complexity in Chinese in the next ask, because this is already very long. Be aware, I’m not going to give you any answers necessarily - these questions are way above my pay grade - but boy can I give you some thoughts.

#chinese #linguistics #langblr #lingblr #linguistic complexity #meichenxi manages #askies #oh my god I am so looking forward to writing the next one #it's so spicy #love remembering that I actually sometimes know things lmao #stop the false equivalence of Sapir = the Sapir-whorf hypothesis 2k21 #the dude was actually quite progressive for his time #sighhhhh *squints at actual linguistics* hope this doesn't awaken anything in me #like the desire to go and do a masters #I hope this makes sense and I hope no one yells at me #if you want any sources I'm happy to give I'm just lazy and ill #source = brain #no I really do have books I promise

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momsopposed2theoccult · 3 years

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I don't know and I'm sorry if you have answered this before, but what do you think about toph being a cop, there's so much hate on it but I personally don't find it that wrong, I'm not sure tho I haven't seen korra yet. thank you:）

I'm going to be honest with you and say that I'm still pretty on the fence about this myself. I've spent a lot of time pondering it, but I'm still not sure where I stand, because I feel like there's an argument to be made both for and against it. Not sure if I'll be able to provide you with a straight answer, but I'm happy to provide some thoughts on both sides of the argument as well as on how and why I think she got into the field, my issues with the way the police force was run in LoK (under the assumption that it was built from the ground up by Toph herself), and what I would have done differently (or rather what I think Toph would have done differently that would have made it feel more in-character, if that makes sense).

The main argument as to why it's out of character for Toph to go into law enforcement is that in the original show she's portrayed as somebody who is anti-authoritarian and has no qualms about breaking the law. Kid Toph is very much a "fuck the rules" kind of person and dislikes being told what to do, so the idea that enforcing rules and regulations would become her future career is definitely confusing. Although I was also extremely confused at first, over time it's grown on me in a way and I can make sense of it. However, I agree that it's still not the most in-character and I can understand why a lot of people don't like it.

Although it's still up for debate as to whether or not she has the philosophy for the job, she absolutely has the skill set for it. I can see her enjoying getting to exercise her metalbending skills on a daily basis. Toph is in extremely good physical shape and is an athletic person who enjoys exercise, and having a physically-oriented job would definitely be good for her. She probably made an excellent detective as well, what with her lie-detecting abilities, seismic sense, and general fine-tuned observational skills. Oh and can you imagine being interrogated by Toph? Scary shit. There's also something to be said about how although Toph hates being told what to do, she absolutely loves being in charge and telling other people what to do. Like they say, "When you get sick of breaking the rules, you make the rules," which is sort of how I view Toph in this scenario. Toph is largely unhappy with a lot of the rules and regulations in society, so I think that if she were offered a position where instead of having to follow other people's rules, she would be able to create her own rules in a way she saw fit, I don't think it would be entirely out of character for her to take it. My headcanon is that she created the police force as a favour to Aang and Zuko because they asked her to and she wanted to feel like she was playing an important role in the founding of Republic City. Toph has many virtues, but humble she is not. I really do think she would enjoy the glory she received in such a high-profile position as the Chief of Police. Would she be passionate about the law, per se? Well no, but I think she would enjoy being able to exercise her unique skill set on a daily basis and would likely get a thrill out of bringing people like Yakone to justice. She would enjoy feeling important. Toph isn't someone I view as really wanting a long-term career, so I imagine her getting into the position was less "I want to be a cop!" and more "Welp, I need to get a stable career eventually, and Zuko and Aang really want me to do this for them, and hey I guess I'll get to metalbend everyday and oh I'll have lots of people to yell at and being in charge would be fun and you know what I don't trust anybody but myself to make the rules in this goddamn city so what the hell, I'll take it." I do think that people forget that Toph wasn't just a beat cop, she wasn't even just a detective. She was the Chief. And it wasn't as if she inherited the system from somebody else, it was quite literally a system of her own creation. She wasn't upholding somebody else's law either, she was creating her own laws. Toph was the law in Republic City, and there are few things that girl loves more than being in charge and telling other people what to do.

Now, as to how the Republic City Police Department was portrayed in LoK, it really didn't feel like a system of Toph's own creation like we're supposed to believe it was. Apparently it was largely inspired by the Dai Li, and the idea that Toph would create a system modelled after the Dai Li is preposterous. Toph hated the Dai Li and Ba Sing Se in general. The RCPD is largely "arrest now, ask questions later" and very focused on security, security, security, which just isn't Toph's style. I've seen people throw around the idea of an alternative system loosely inspired by the Kyoshi Warriors, which is something I do like, and I think Toph would as well. I don't think that Toph would really bother with petty day to day stuff like robberies. The main function of the police force under Toph's control would be to bring "real" criminals like Yakone who legitimately endanger the lives and safety of other people to justice. In fact, I can see Toph wanting to rehabilitate and give a second chance to "petty" criminals, especially youth (this is especially true when you take into consideration that she is somebody with a criminal past herself). As we see throughout the show and the comics, Toph is a forgiving person who gives second chances and will hear you out even when you don't feel as though you really "deserve" it. Hell, even if you are a "real" criminal, Toph would probably still hear you out and give you a chance to properly explain yourself. She's 100% the kind of person who would demand fair trial for every single criminal who comes into her custody, even the guiltiest of the guilty, because that's the kind of person that Toph is. In general I think she would likely be a controversial figure in Republic City who would routinely question every single law the council tried to pass. Toph would flat out refuse to uphold any and all laws she felt were unjust or unnecessary, which is part of the reason why having someone like her in the position would in some ways be beneficial.

To be completely honest as somebody who's read a ton of Toph-centric canon complicit post-ATLA-pre-LOK fanfiction, I've kind of just gotten used to the idea. In some ways it makes sense, in some ways it doesn't, and in my opinion it's far from the worst thing that LOK did to Toph's character. But that's just my two cents.

#asks #this got long wow #atla #avatar the last airbender #lok #tlok #the legend of korra #toph beifong #nora speaks

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sunlightandsuffering · 3 years

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Prompt : they are both famous and secretly dating.

tbh I don't know what this is or if it makes any sense at all, so sorry anon for butchering ur prompt, but I'm a basic bitch and I like my drake, so like this is gonna be pain bcuz my favourite song on the new album is just pain and I can't stop thinking about a fucked up celebs relationship to it, just ANGST AND PAIN!! 😭😭 but those lyrics hit, can't believe I wrote a song fic ugh circa Tumblr 2015 jfc I'mma write a happier ending to this in another prompt 😂 bc someone else asked for the same thing.

Fucking Fans

I'm still working on me

Eren stands at the Met Gala, holding Mikasa by the waist, giving a cramped smile for photos and keeping her close. People call their names and cameras flash and his beloved blinks, hiding her face into his shoulder as the lights overwhelm her.

He looks down at her lovingly as some jackass reporter yells about a cheating rumour and her pretty face pinches up. Eren is quick to comfort her with his touch, both hands gripping her waist reassuringly as he decides it's time for them to go inside.

"Come on Miki," he kisses her forehead and she nods, accepting. Neither of them wants to think about those rumours, the damage and the pain they bring up is too much and it's all his fault, he knows, but he can't undo it.

The guilt eats at him and she holds his hand tighter, the despair takes him and she cuddles him at night.

They're together now but sometimes Eren wonders just how it happened, how he came back from falling so far. How she took him back when he fucked up so massively.

And I'm coming back better for you

The day he shows up on her door step again is the day of the biggest awards show of the season, the one he knows she's going to kill and probably sweep several categories. Just because she's that amazing. He finds her where he expects, in her apartment, the address Armin gave him, doing her own hair and makeup, humble Mikasa just like always, ironing out her own dress. He shows up in a suit with as many white roses as he can fit into a bouquet and ready to leave if she still hates him, which she has every right to.

But he's been through months of therapy, gave Armin control of his bank account, and check himself into rehab thrice, every time he was even inching closer to relapse.

He's not fixed, but he's better, marginally, and he wants her to know it, know he still loves her at the very least.

She opens the door, beautiful even without makeup, and wearing a white slip and her pretty red mouth parts in shock.

All he can do is hold out his roses as tears leave his eyes at seeing her for the first time in months.

Most times it was my selfishness and your helplessness that I took advantage of

It was so easy with Mikasa, she was so devoted to him. So loving and sweet, always there for him.

She'd wait up, let him do what he wanted, never wanting to stifle or control him. Too afraid their tenuous relationship would crack and they'd break up.

A part of him blames her for it, for being so willing to let him do what he wanted. She'd been passive, unsure how to insert herself, had minimal complaints, letting him ruin his life party by party, late night after late night, drugs and alcohol all of it.

But he knows he can never hold her accountable for his own actions, and the day she's finally done with his bullshit is both the best and worst day of his life. She finally says no, and it begins his path to fixing himself. Because hitting rock bottom is losing the most important thing in his life, and that's Mikasa.

You sit in the house and I be out and I know you're worried, up

The problem with her passivity is he knows it's not passivity at all, she just doesn't know what to do, how to fix him. Eren has always had a temper, and she's known him for a long time, knows he'll lash out and behave worse if provoked. So she'd reacted as best she could, leaving rehab pamphlets out, asking him to stay in and watch movies, bake with her, anything other than going out to party.

But he'd stumble home every night and see her asleep on the couch, waiting. Always there to pick him up instead of a cab, not wanting the paparazzi to get a hold of him, she was always there.

And you try and block it out

They lived in a bubble, they pretended it didn't happen. They didn't acknowledge when he was too hungover to shoot the next morning. She'd brew him coffee, get him through the day, flush his drug stash when they checked, both his saving grace and biggest enabler.

Even when he's kissing her for more than just an on-screen kiss, lips drinking her in like a man starved, and the next morning she finds new girls in his bed, she keeps quiet.

They're a mess, but every time she dutifully kicks the girls out and drags him to the shower.

I'm so sorry for letting you down

When he'd first become famous, he hadn't known what to do with himself. He'd been scouted for how many movies, tv-shows, underwear commercials, brand deals. It was a whirlwind as Hollywood found their new boy wonder, handsome, smart and a nice boy.

His best friend, and female love interest in their debut movie, Mikasa, who had followed him to Hollywood on nothing more than a whim, was equally bombarded with fame and fortune. They'd always been close, always best friends, but never quite more, no matter how much they both obviously wanted it. It never progressed beyond a few acted kisses.

Still, they got an apartment together, and Eren had thought it was the start of something great, he was living the dream. Rich and famous with his best friend, the girl he'd secretly loved since he was young.

He'd been content just to stay up late and watch movies with her before work, to visit her on set and bring her donuts. They were Hollywood's shining stars, two kids sickeningly sweet in love even though they weren't officially dating, they were as good as.

At the advice of his agent, he'd started doing more, started picking up a few other gigs on the side, modelling, but he kept it small, he didn't want to overwhelm himself, and he still wanted time for Mikasa.

It had gone well, they'd taken fame okay, and Eren had been proud, neither of them had a sex-scandal or a pregnancy scare yet. They'd even been inching towards finally being something more than just friends, a few heated looks, some on-stage kisses to finally get the ball rolling.

Then Mikasa had been cast in an upcoming romance movie and her love interest hadn't been Eren, it had been Jean.

That had been the start of his spiral.

He'd never meant for it to get so far out of control, how many movies he started doing, how many promotions. Meanwhile Mikasa, smart, brilliant Mikasa stuck with smaller projects and only ever one at a time, preferring to keep close to their apartment. He was all she had, and she was all he wanted.

Nights when I just needed to hold somebody

He misses her, lays in bed awake at night thinking about her, how long it’s been, when was the last time he saw the curve of her face in person and not in a washed-out picture on a magazine. Girls in and out of his apartment, trying to fill the empty void inside him, and nothing works, nothing ever works. Because he’d fucked it up, said he didn’t need her, told her he could do it on his own, fame wouldn’t take him. Called each other names, every one in the book, screaming matches over stupid shit, if he should take that job, what she was doing with Jean, how she was eating, if she was eating enough.

The toxicity was palpable in their apartment until finally Mikasa just left and he broke.

Feeling overwhelmed, should've told somebody

Fame takes him like a drug addiction, actually it comes with a drug addiction, heroine, cocaine, molly, all of it. In trying to ditch his Hollywood’s sweetheart, good boy image he diverts his life so radically he doesn’t know if he can ever get back to where he was. He loses weight, barely gets by, he doesn’t even understand how he’s still getting booked, but people want him even more now that he’s Hollywood’s bad boy. Meanwhile Mikasa is disgraced now that he’s ‘thrown her away’ even though it was the other way around. Last he heard she lived in a little apartment on the upper east side, leaves only to work, and to fly up to see their families. He hasn’t seen his parents in months, doesn’t want to. Doesn’t want to see the look in their eyes when they realize how skinny he’s gotten, how his body lacks muscle, skin barely clinging to bone, gaunt and lifeless.

He needs help, but he’s spiraling, he’s committed and no matter how many times Armin tries to get him into rehab, he never goes. What’s the point Mikasa is gone, he’s not getting her back, all he has now is the money, the drugs, and the women.

Picturin' it's me sending chills through your body

He hears she’s dating Jean now and somehow, he gets worse.

Every fear he’d ever had comes to life and he gets angry, his temper coming back full force. The past few months he’d barely been getting by, not really living, but his rage awakens him. She’d told him no, that they weren’t dating, never so much as kissed outside of work. What a fucking lie.

How many girls he takes home that month he doesn’t know, how many paparazzi photos of women leaving his apartment, how he dreams it’s Mikasa under him, not some rando.

He sees her on the cover of some magazine, walking innocently with Jean and it sends him into even more of a rage, but under it all he wishes it was him, doesn’t matter that they were never official, that it only happened a few times, he wants her back. But Eren’s never been good at navigating his emotions, so he clings to his rage like a lifeline.

I just probably should've chilled 'til I saw you

When they ask about her in interviews, he doesn’t answer. Not until that once, when he lets it slip and he watches Armin wilt in real time from behind the camera as he spits the words, “I think it’s obvious, she’s with Jean now isn’t she, right after she was with me, figure it out yourself.”

The insinuation is lethal, cruel, mean and he knows it’s not true, but he says it anyway. He knows she didn't do it, but still the coincidence hurts too much, the very thought that there might have been something romantic going on with them before makes him want to throw up.

The interviewer looks shocked before he brightens up at the tidbit of information, like a vulture picking apart the last pieces of his heart, massacring it further, but Eren doesn’t mind the pain anymore. It fuels his rage and that’s all he has these days.

How am I supposed to get to know somebody?

When the rage wears off months later and Mikasa has done nothing, no comment on his interviews, no appearances, no angry texts, just silence, he becomes numb. Then the sadness sets in, because losing her romantically isn’t even the worst part, he doesn’t even have his best friend anymore, he’s lost her too.

She’s become a recluse, a hermit, he hasn’t even seen her with Jean on the magazine covers lately. Distantly he knows it’s because their movie is finished filming, and she was probably never dating him in the first place.

He goes to awards shows in hopes of at least catching a glimpse but she’s gone into hiding, there’s rumours she’s back in their hometown, but he’d never visit, not with the disgrace he’s become. He tries to date seriously, tries to talk to other actresses, but it’s all so vacant, disingenuous. All they want him for is his image, there’s nothing real about these women anymore, everything is fake, plastic right down to their boobs. Nothing like Mikasa, who was pure to her core, even in the face of her fame.

If we broke it off then you know it wasn't painless

He'd cried for weeks after she'd ended it, despite it being entirely his fault.

Armin had cancelled all his engagements and Eren hadn't left the apartment, curling himself up on her empty mattress, her room a barren wasteland.

He'd only eaten when Armin forced him too, and only come out of his hibernation after his mother had called to yell, Armin holding the phone right in his ear, the first time he'd spoken to her in forever.

If she got a watch then you know it's not a stainless

He’s got money, but it means nothing. Mikasa has money too, it doesn’t even matter. What has it all been for? He doesn’t even know anymore. All he’s gotten from his acting career is trust issues, more money than he knows what do with and the loss of his best friend and the only girl he’s ever loved.

It’s all a blur now, he acts, he models, he does PR. Armin makes him a schedule and he follows it. They meet with his nutritionist and his personal trainer, and he starts working out again, eating real food, not just smoking, and drinking coffee to supress his appetite.

Armin is the only reason he’s still a functioning human being as Eren hits rock bottom. The only one left to try and push him out.

I was out here fucking fans, I was shameless

He knows he fucked up, it’s why he starts therapy.

The shit he’d done, high off his own fame and arrogance, it’s messed up and he he knows it now. All the girls, all the money and the drugs, ignoring Mikasa’s concerns, dragging her down with him.

He doesn’t blame her now, he knows none of it was fair, she was justified in leaving. They were toxic, their half on, half off relationship, how he'd commit to the drugs but never her.

He can still remember the first time he kissed her, really kissed her, Eren and Mikasa not two characters on screen. It was after their first awards show for their movie, he’d been so excited, so delightfully sober, he couldn’t help himself, she’d been so pretty in her white dress, he’d leaned down before he could stop himself. The first night they’d had sex, her moans, her soft cries of pleasure, nothing had ever measured up since.

It had been bliss, for about a month or so and then they’d really been discovered, and it had all been shot to hell.

All the fans, all the women throwing themselves at him, his eyes couldn’t help but wander despite Mikasa always being the most radiant in the room. He had her love, he’d had everything, but that insidious voice in the back of his head had wondered. Thought the grass was greener on the other side, wanting to explore fame at the same time they’d finally started their relationship.

You was at the crib reading stories that they sent you

They’d kept it casual at Eren’s insistence and Mikasa’s heartbreak, his rock had been willing to allow it for him, for the chance to finally explore their relationship. But he could see how much it hurt her, the tabloids were the worst part, every day a new cover, another apartment he’d leave, another hookup in the parking lot. And he could barely justify it to himself, why he did it, why he continued to do it? He had everything he could ever want in Mikasa, the girl he’d loved since forever, finally in the palm of his hand, willing to give herself wholly to him.

And yet fame had called him more, and the people he was hanging out with only encouraged it, the famous lifestyle, drugs, sex and rock and roll.

Everyone was doing it, so why shouldn’t he?

Most of that was bullshit but some of it I did do

The rumours spiralled out of control after a while, there was nothing he could do, it was over, they had too much on him.

He'd been telling himself lies that maybe she was with Jean on the side, that she had the same opportunities as him, she could go out and sleep around too.

As if Mikasa would ever even consider it.

He’d finally given into being exclusive, seeing the toll it was taking on Mikasa, after Armin smacked him upside the head and told him he was going to lose her if he didn’t get his shit together. Eren had finally realized how irreversibly he was fucking up his relationship, but by then, it had been too late.

When they finally started truly dating, monogamy and all, it had been far, far too late. The backlog of photos the paparazzi had was ridiculous, any opportunity they got to demonize him they took.

He and Mikasa been casual at the time of all the photos, sure, but anyone would buckle under the weight of constant articles about their significant other cheating. Eren became the villain in his own story, and Hollywood loved it, ‘Bad Boy Eren Yeager Ditches Mikasa Ackerman’. He still remembers the headline, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back, she’d come home, dropped the offending magazine on the coffee table and hidden in her room for the rest of the night. He’d slept outside her door, and the next morning he’d been woken by her stepping over him to leave, bags packed.

It was sad, they’d never even officially dated to the public, they hadn’t gotten to that point. She’d wanted to reveal it at some awards show by taking him as her date, thanking him in her speech, her boyfriend, Eren Yeager. Overnight the paparazzi had singlehandedly broken them up for shit he hadn’t even done.

He had no one but himself to blame.

Hard for me to justify the women I was into

Looking back, he can’t say why he did it or what the purpose of all the models that looked eerily like her were for. Maybe he was trying to fill the empty space in his heart, maybe he felt neglected by her friendship with Jean and how obvious the man’s feeling for her were, but for one reason or another, he’d slept his way through about half of the Victoria’s Secret fashion show, and award shows were awkward these days. Meeting the eyes of all the talented women he’d hooked up with in such a professional setting was uncomfortable at best.

How many more did he not even remember, to high off drugs and alcohol and his own ego?

Especially when the whole entire world wished they had you

He’d seen it in how Jean looked at her the first time they’d walked the red carpet as promotion for their movie. The tall man was a b-list actor and he’d been invited to the pre-screening, and he’d watched Mikasa the entire night. His gaze wasn’t moved by Eren’s arm wrapped protectively around her waist or his chin resting on her head, nor the possessive hand on her thigh.

They hadn’t even been fooling around back then, but he couldn’t help himself, he didn’t want Jean’s eyes on her. She was also Mikasa Ackerman, and the whole world thought she was just as beautiful and amazing and perfect as he did.

But she was his. His best friend, love of his life, his everything

If only he’d treated her like it.

Probably made you want to hit the streets on everything

She doesn't take him to the awards show the night he comes begging, but she lets him inside her apartment. Lets him help her with her hair, something he's sorely missed. Something he's familiar with, been braiding her hair since they were kids.

He helps her put it up into a beautiful twist.

And when Jean knocks at her door to take her to the awards show he lets her go, kisses her cheek and tells her how much he loves her, how she's going to win it all and he'll be waiting her when she gets back.

And then she leaves, walks away with another man and Eren thinks he deserves it, it's his penance, how many times has she felt this same way, how many women has he been through?

Probably made you want to pour bleach on everything

He discovers not a single remnant of himself in her apartment, no pictures, no clothes she's borrowed. Even his old sweatshirt, her favourite one is gone. Hell, even their award for best-onscreen-kiss is gone.

He finds it all in a crumpled box under her bed and it's his own fault for snooping, their photo crumpled up and misshapen, riddled with water damage. Probably from her tears if he had to guess.

Probably made you want to kill me on everything

She comes home that night and Eren is surprised, he'd expected her to go to Jean's. Hadn't really believed she was going to come back. Had resigned himself to sleeping on the couch and waiting till tomorrow when she'd come home dishevelled and covered in hickeys and bruises, the kind good sex gives you. The kind he'd never really allowed himself to give her.

That's when she'd really broken and he'd been so fucking happy when she'd thrown her purse at him. No more of her her silent rage, her forced smiles. She'd kicked and screamed, cried in his arms only to hit him brutally with a pillow, chasing him to the end of the couch. Hands restraining his wrists, as she curses him out, tears running down her beautiful cheeks sparkling in the moonlight, she's a vengeful goddess and he deserves every second of her wrath.

She collapses on top of him in a heap of sobs and all he can do is hold her, hating himself just as much as he's sure she does.

Yeah, trust, I know that

He wakes the next morning with her weight in his arms, and he holds her like he never wants to let go.

He's lucky she's even here with him right now, that she didn't kick him out on the spot. That she even cares enough to still fight with him. He kisses her forehead softly, he knows.

Yeah I kinda hate this but whatever have angst 🤷🏻‍♀️

#lys's drabbles

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somerpmemes · 3 years

Text

Disenchantment S3 Starters

Change as needed

“Who can resist a creepy mom hug?”

“She’s not an ugly, evil bitch. But she is sluttier than I imagined.”

“When I last saw you, you were a lot more dead.”

“Is your life so awful you have to keep wrecking mine?”

“You were a model of regal barbarism.”

“Something’s going on.”

“Like any two numbers, this don’t add up.”

“You’re a bloodthirsty bastard.”

“I’m no decision-maker, I’m an action-taker.”

“Oh, I wanted to gloat directly over our victim’s corpse.”

“Hand me a murder stick.”

“For a dying man, he’s making a lot of noise.”

“World domination can wait.”

“I’m allergic to pandering.”

“Trust me, I’m not playing mind games with you.”

“Just promise you’ll think about giving me another chance.”

“Hallelujah, amen, and ka-ching.”

“You realize you’re all I have.”

“I know you’re lying but I hope one day you’ll mean that.”

“Is it still true love if your wallet is missing?”

“I just figured out this is a bad idea.”

“Oh, this ruins so many fantasies.. but opens up so many new ones.”

“Actually, pretending to care about your feelings was exhausting.”

“___, do what you do best. Take your mommy issues out on somebody else.”

“This is the sinister plot that just keeps giving.”

“Souls are meant for damnation, not soup.”

“Fooling foolish fools is so satisfying.”

“Oh, that’s delightfully craven.”

“Okay I get it, I have a hot mom.”

“It’s not even good cake.”

“Aww, he spelt it ‘yer’.”

“I believe it’s pronounced ‘skedaddle’.”

“I always wanted to get lost in a labyrinth. It's like a puzzle you solve with your feet.”

“If someone else is plotting without us, I will be really miffed.”

“Aren’t boots supposed to bend at the knees?”

“They’re just being really hurtful.”

“I’ll never fall for one of your tricks again.”

“I won’t say that doesn’t hurt.”

“And now, I just wanna lie down.”

“I think we’re getting away with it.”

“Ugh, I swear these tight, sexy clothes were designed to cut off cognitive thinking.”

“Disappointment’s a form of caring.”

“Who you are is a nobody and what you are ain’t nothing.”

“Stop being so agreeable!”

“I dreamed of this moment for so long, but I’m more worried than validated.”

“He looks so different with his head sliced off.”

“You have the worst luck I’ve ever seen.”

“I don’t know how this could get any more degrading.”

“Don’t ever walk barefoot around here. And never eat at the strip clubs.”

“But often the craziest thoughts are the most true, you nutloaf!”

“This is a classy affair, more cleavage.”

“This means so much to whoever I am.”

“I’ve got a nice thing going. I don’t wanna mess it up by opening up my big mouth.”

“I would love to have you as one of my exes but I think it’s best if you think of me as your slutty grandma.”

“The faster you run the more beer you get.”

“Sorry, I’m a little damp and cranky.”

“I’m addicted to stealing wallets now.”

“A veritable sandwich of danger.”

“Neither of us are cats.”

“Yeah, well, I’m gonna knife you in your throat.”

“Now swim for it before the crabs swarm over you.”

“Wow! You can really taste the rage.”

“So it’s agreed, we don’t get caught.”

“Man, after-work drinks taste so much better than instead-of-work drinks.”

“If I were afraid I wouldn’t be here.”

“I know a lot of psychos.”

“Pretend like we planned on meeting here so no one yells at me for cutting in line.”

“It’s as educational as it is moisturizing.”

“Ha! That’s what you get for believing in love!”

“You were always good at sticking to things.”

“I know you don’t trust me, but whatever you do, do not trust him.”

“If I can’t trust you, how can I trust you to tell me who to trust?”

“What are you offering here?”

“This is big, I really need some time to drink about this.”

“Who is interrupting my insomnia!?”

“You act angry on the outside but deep down you’re lonely and inadequate.”

“I look like a macho flowerpot.”

“Like, I’ve hear of fashion disasters but you, sir, are a genocide.”

“Now to blend invisibly into the crowd.”

“I’m your knight in rusty armor.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way but, shut up ___.”

“Oh my god, I’m insulting myself.”

“We’re all ashamed of some flaw we can’t change.”

“Nature is full of green.”

“I bring good old-fashioned psychological torture to the party, okay? Just like your grandmother made.”

“Wow! This malnutrition is really slimming.”

“Oh my god, enough with the romantic fantasies.”

“That hot trash is with me.”

“I will never find that boot again.”

“Love is risky. That's what makes it so great, it pays off!”

“All I have is nightmares now.”

“How do you want to die? Slowly or extra slowly?”

“We’re one step away from happily ever after.”

“___, who have you pissed off this time?”

“Everything is either trying to kill me or kiss me.”

“From what I’ve heard, I’m both obnoxious and amazing.”

“Chalk one up for ignorance!”

“Here, drink this coffee. It’s been boiling for hours.”

“I’ve got so much love and nobody to give it to.”

“Apparently I’m not film friendly… or friendly.”

“Tell me what drugs you’re on so I know what to do when you pass out.”

“I got a lot of experience with relationships coming to a grinding halt.”

“Wait sorry, what were we talking about? Oh, wait, yeah, your pathetic love life.”

“Stop looking at me like that! I’m so vulnerable and you’re so mean.”

“Why’d you come back for me?”

“I left because I didn’t want to get hurt again and I came back because... I’ll never learn.”

“I’m not gonna ask where you pulled that from.”

“___, I tried to get help but nobody wanted to.”

“I would say it’s good to be back but I can’t shake the fact that life is meaningless and I’m gonna die alone.”

“I’ve got a lot to do now. Like go to my room and cry in the fetal position.”

“Don’t say “wink, wink”. Just wink.”

“You can bother me again when I grow a new heart.”

“Wallowing is underrated. People no longer expect things from you and you get to stop showering.”

“Sweetie, you’re young and beautiful and sandy.”

“Someday the right man or woman or creature will mate with you. Then you must eat them.”

“Oh my god, I want to shower again. That means I’ve regained the will to live!”

“Love the homicidal impulse but no.”

“But I only like gratification when it’s instant!”

“Oh, this ain’t good.”

“Oh god, they’re getting uglier.”

“Hey ___, who do you think I should punch first?”

“Sorry, I tend not to notice things that aren’t me.”

“I’m crestfallen and I can’t get up.”

“Don’t you know you can’t trust anyone but yourself?”

“I’m not kneeling, I’m dying.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna die soon.”

“You know, you have an impressive number of enemies for a girl your age.”

“Don’t be a drama queen. That is my job.”

“Well those are mixed messages.”

“My needs outweigh your scorn.”

“It’ll either cure him or kill him.”

“You do not wanna go in there unless you’re a fan of, like, dying.”

“Any operating instructions or ominous warnings?”

“You’re afraid to let people in and you hide behind sarcasm.”

“___, work on your issues.”

“So, this isn’t gonna get more normal anytime soon, is it?”

“You don’t have to die at home but you can’t die here.”

“I’ve had a lot of people leave me in my life but I’ve never ever ever not had you before.”

“I always thought you’d be dead in a ditch by now.”

“Why is it, ___, that every time you’re braiding my hair you tell me I’m going to die?”

“Braids hurt my brain.”

“Oh, you’re so going to die.”

“The key to getting dumped is not knowing how to take a hint.”

“Stop tempting fate.”

“I have resting sinister face.”

“I don’t know who to disobey.”

“Haven’t you ever seen an enchanted broom before?”

“Wow. Brutal honesty, that’s true friendship.”

“She blindsided me. While I was looking right at her!”

“I don’t know why you always bring the good half out in me, ___.”

#disenchantment #rp #rp meme #rp starters #starters #sentence starters #sentence starter meme #ask meme

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nctzendreamz · 3 years

Text

off the table — lee taeyong

genre: angst w/ hints of fluff.

warnings: language, mentions of drug abuse, and mental illness.

featuring: nct members + chan and felix from stray kids.

authors note: taeyong was perfect for this in my head. also, thank you ariana grande.

is love completely off the table?

will I ever love the same way again? will I ever love somebody like the way I did you?

it had been almost a year. almost a year since he had heard your laugh. you know, the one only he was capable of getting out of you. it was gentle, yet so vibrant that it could color even the most plain and unpleasant rooms. he had seen you do it a million times, but his favorite work of art of yours was the one you did on his heart.

obviously, he couldn’t see what the inside of him looked like. but he could feel it. before he met you, he was certain everything was pitch black. to be specific, the darkest shade of the night sky one could possible fathom. so much pain resided in him. some he brought to himself, some he did nothing to earn. regardless, it was there, and as anybody with demons did, he found coping methods.

that’s how he met you, actually. holed up a strip club he had no business being in. one, because there was no one here he truly wanted. he would never admit it outloud, but the thought of love warmed him. not much, but it did. more than silly one night stands that have soul ties no one wanted to keep.

you were clearly out of place in the building filled with the scent of marijuana and flashing lights, although it did perfectly consume your complexion in the most beautiful way. he observed you for what felt like hours, just admiring you. he had no idea he would want to do this for the rest of his life.

it didn’t take much liquid courage for him to approach you. he could sense your fear when his slender fingers touched your exposed shoulder. for some reason though, the minute your eyes locked it was as if you were looking at someone you had known for a million lifetimes. or maybe that was just Taeyong’s point of view. maybe, everything was all an illusion. meeting you. falling in love with you. you falling in love with him.

“it’s been awhile.” a voice snaps Taeyong out of his deep thinking. the minute his concentration breaks does his surroundings suddenly blast into the center of his cortex. the volume increases. he is in the real world again. he isn’t high, yet.

“yeah.” is all he can spit out. all of the different coversations he could hear take place all of a sudden was making him extremely frustrated and unable to form coherent thoughts. or maybe he wanted it that way so he wouldn’t have to think about you.

you loved coming here. he hated coming here. but he loved you, and your favorite thing to say to him was, “when you love someone, you do things you hate. just like me sitting and watching you smoke for hours without stopping.”

he never realized how much you hated his distractions.

the here, was a restaurant that resembled a sports bar back where you are from. the food was less Korean and more greasy chicken tenders. and you really admired their honey mustard. it was kind of ridiculous how much you loved this place. it was always crowded. the smell was odd - a mixture of people who can’t seem to do anything but drink beer and yell, and foreigners who hated living in Korea. this was the only taste of home they got, so they took advantage of it.

did you feel that way too?

he doesn’t know. and he doesn’t want to think about it. some soccer game was on. people were cheering. he was just waiting on his to-go order.

“how have you been?” the familiar woman asks behind the counter. she was definitely in her mid-50’s. he assumed. she always would be here when Taeyong was dragged along, and she was always nice. who wouldn’t be with all the money you gave to this place.

“i’ve been fine.”

taeyong feels a little cheery conversating with another human. if it wasn’t his dealer, there wasn’t anything to say if he was being quite honest. his relationship with his family died out a long time ago. the only person that he could talk to was himself. the guys who were constantly down in the basement at his dealer were cool, but they never really got him. they thought he was weird, violent. only you cared enough to see how sweet he was. to paint him.

“good to hear. you tell your lover that i miss them!”

his heart, still colored from the mention of you, breaks. it had broken many times from your presence on this earth being acknowledged. everytime his chest would explode into his stomach.

he couldn’t say anything.

he simply walks out the place, not caring about manners. he just wants to go home. he doesn’t even like these fucking chicken tenders, but he’s going to go home and eat them. in your honor.

“excuse me.” a voice exclaims as he finally makes it outside.

once again, words don’t leave his mouth. the woman was probably lost. he truthfully didn’t care. he didn’t care about anything anymore.

“sorry,” she begins. her hair is almost a white color. it’s clearly dyed, but she might have been naturally a darker shade of blonde since the coloring seemed too perfect. “i just...i’ve been watching you - wait, that sounds incredible creepy—“

no one could compare to you, but she reminded him of you. you always did this when you were nervous, or had a severe lack of sleep. you would say things you considered to be silly. fumble with your words. and you would always ruin it more by acknowledging it.

but he was never irritated. he thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world. you were the cutest thing in the entire world.

even now, he’s okay. maybe because he was reminded of you, he can appreciate the art.

“you’re really cute.” she finally spits out.

he couldn’t respond, for the third time today.

why was this so hard? it has almost been a fucking year. a year without you. a year without touching you.

yet, no one could ever compare. not the blonde woman standing in front of him. not the sky. not the stupid bar. even his drugs seemed lackluster to the high you gave him whenever you told him you loved him.

he walks away. he needs something. something to make him unable to think for the rest of the night.

never thought you’d be so damn hard to replace. i swear I don’t mean to be this way, if I can’t have you? is love completely off the table?

“y/n? you there?” you feel vibrations from snapping on your face from the man sitting beside you. he snapped three times, to be exact.

“yeah! yes.” you quickly correct, adjusting your posture along with it.

“i know you appreciate the arts, but that painting is nothing to stare at.”

the painting chan was referring to, seemed plain to a simple eye. it simply, was a black square. but you saw worlds in it. you saw him.

“you know christopher,” you cooed, giving his slim cheek a quick sqeeze before continuing, “just because something seems boring to the naked eye, doesn’t mean it actually is. sometimes, a simple work of art such as that lame black square can hold a thousand meanings.”

he smile is radiant. honestly, the neon colored walls in the movie theater couldn’t compare to it no matter how hard it tried. lately, you had been trying to predict what he would say when you tried to be somewhat of substance around him. you were truthfully scared of boring him.

maybe you saw yourself in the black square as well.

“you really find it interesting, love?”

his accent - God his accent. it had an effect on you that truthfully wasn’t healthy, but even so you always felt guilty when your heart would papilate as it touched your eardrums. but why? you were single. you were moving on.

you can’t even look at him anymore, so you settle on the painting once more. now that you think about it, it was kind of scary that it was in a movie theater. maybe chan was on to something - what was its purpose? to simply cause you pain? to make you think about things and people you could no longer have? a person who is the worst possible thing for your growth, but the best food for your pitiful, lonely soul?

“never mind, you’re right.” you stand promptly, suddenly wanting to get as far away from the evil on the wall. it didn’t matter how chilly it was outside.

“woah.” chan chases after you. you’re too quick though. you’ve practically swam through the crowd to escape into fresh air. what is wrong with you?

it doesn’t take long for you to find yourself at his car. his pride and joy by the way, in which he never let anyone else ride in yet. he had been saving for so long to get it. you didn’t know the model, all you knew was that it made loud noises when he wanted it to. the car was originally white, but the two of you agreed that it was the worse possible color for a car, so he got a paint job and now it was as black as a dark hole.

the stars are beaming, and it’s odd. you used to love nights like this. you preferred the day time, but it was something about a light in the dark, such as the moon that pulled you in. it always destroyed you in the end though.

“what did I do?” his voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“huh?” you wizzle in confusion, not understanding why he believed he had done anything but gave you a peaceful night not lost in your thoughts.

his eyes tell you everything you need to know before his mouth does. he isn’t questioning your ever changing emotions and happiness to hear satisfaction from your mouth - to boost his ego. he truly feels as if he’s ruined any chance he’s had with you simply from being himself. even so, as he waits for you to answer he’s taking his bomber jacket off for you to wear. he was sweet like that.

“chris, you are always perfect. why would you think anything different?” you say as you put the jacket on.

he’s holding back a smile, but you can tell it’s more so from your proper word choice, and not what you said.

“you trying to sound English?”

“no.” you giggle, pushing his shoulder lightly. “I’m just trying to communicate with you.”

“then tell the truth.” he prompts, taking a step closer to you.

“can I lean on the car?”

“yes.” he laughs in a low tone. “you can lean on the car.”

“okay.”

silence is filling the air, and it’s making you sick even though it shouldn’t be.

“y/n.” he finally speaks. you decide you have the balls to look at him even though it feels so wrong. the stars - they’re sparkling right into his eyes and you know you are the dumbest idiot on earth.

why can’t you just choose him?

the question is repeating over and over in your head, but no answer comes. well, no answer you want to hear comes. this should’ve been easy money. the perfect guy, with a good family and solid morals is madly in love with you. he’s still here, even when you barely give him anything to work with, and you’re thinking about others who were nothing close to that no matter how they made you feel.

“my confession ruined everything, didn’t it?”

it was about two months ago that chan confessed his love for you. you laughed a bit, as it made no sense. the two of you had been in the same circle for awhile, and you had been notified of his appreciation for you long ago, but he had seen you break. he watched you go from happy soul to broken and he still liked you? in what world?

you enjoyed his company. that’s why you began to hang out with him practically everyday - doing whatever you two wanted. most of the time you two just watched movies, or played silly board games. but sometimes you would go shopping, or he would play you his music he worked on. you could tell he lacked confidence on what he could become, but you knew he had the potential to be so great.

his confession was short and sweet. and the way he approached you, you could tell he was somewhat confident that you would feel the same. you did feel the same, but you also still had feelings for others. when you declined his request to take things to the next level, he didn’t get upset. or at the least he didn’t show it.

he promised the two of you would move at your pace. and that was all you needed to hear to know that maybe one day, when you got yourself together, the two of you could be something.

chan always protected you. you never felt endangered, or unsafe when you were with him. to you, he was sweet, to others he was still sweet, but he knew when to be stern.

“no. i promise.” is all you answer. “it’s cold.” here you go again trying to change the subject. this wasn’t like you.

he promptly unlocks the door to his car, opening it for you as well. it isn’t long before he’s on the drivers side turning on the car so you could feel some heat on your body.

“i won’t bring it up anymore.” he sighs.

“no chris. you bring it up everytime you feel it. i like you, okay? i do. i know I’ve never said it out loud before, but I do. i just...i don’t know what I’m doing right now. there are some things I have to get over you know?”

you can tell the amount of words you used - probably the most you had spoken to him in months shocked him, and made him feel extremely guilty. you know he didn’t want you to feel like he was trying to pressure you. all he wanted to have was something. something that made him feel as special as he knew you had made others feel in the past.

“y/n I’m a fucking idiot. God, don’t listen to me. you are perfect okay? we are working at your pace and we always will. i - fuck.” his face goes directly in his hands.

it’s cute - the way he cares about his every move around you so deeply. you remember what it felt like to feel like that. it was the most nerve wracking, yet butterfly giving thing to experience when around someone you admired so much.

“chris...” you whisper, removing his face from his palms. he had the softest hands ever. “hey, don’t beat yourself up okay? i know what you want and I know you have nothing but the purest intentions. if I didn’t feel that way I wouldn’t want to spend everyday with you okay? whatever you think this is, it is. i promise.”

“okay.” he sighs the biggest breath of relief you had heard in a long time. “okay. i know what we need.” he offers. your hand lingered on his, and he decided it would be best to hold yours as the opportunity presented itself. it’s nice - the warmness. yet, it feels incredibly wrong.

you truly didn’t mean to be this way. you would do anything to not be this way.

“let’s go cop something from felix. hm?”

what chan was reffering to was the good ole’ mean green, weed. you smoked a lot more in the past than you did now, but you were still no angel. especially tonight did getting high sound like the best decision you could have made.

“yes please.” you say without hesitation, leaning back in the seat. your left hand is still in chan’s right, and you don’t plan on letting go. felix’s house isn’t that far from here, so you know your pleasure will be coming sooner or later. chan starts the car and begins the journey. usually, the two of you drive with music on, but tonight the silence was what the both of you wanted.

secretly though, chan snuck his AirPod into his left ear. he loved music, but he could tell you weren’t in the mood. and he didn’t mind that. he would do anything for you. the lyrics resonated with his with his soul so much that he felt it ache, even though he felt he had no right.

i’ll wait for you

even if I always feel like I’ll be number two

to someone you can’t hold anymore

taeyong can’t even recall how long he had been pent up here, high as hell. intoxicated as fuck. the chicken tender meal he brought had been long gone, but not from his mouth. the junkies smelt food, and took food like the animals they claimed to be.

this all sucked so bad. he hated being here. but he couldn’t move.

it was so loud in here. the boys he knew - johnny, mark, and jaehyun were all present. they seemed to be the leaders of the basement and they also seemed to be functioning quite well considering how high they also were. taeyong couldn’t fathom or make out what their conversation were, but he assumed it was about girls. he caught, “they’re supposed to be here any minute now.” from jaehyun’s lip. he seemed to be the strongest ladies man. all taeyong knew, was that he wanted no parts of the drug induced orgy he knew was going to take place. he also knew if he didn’t leave, they didn’t care. they were going to give a show regardless.

“taeyong!” johnny yells, bringing him back to focus. johnny was always very intimidating. he wore a smile when he got what he wanted, but if he spoke to you and you didn’t listen, he quickly got upset. maybe he was different when he was sober, but that was never.

“what’s up.” taeyong answers dryly, still not looking at him.

“you know,” johnny sits down in the dirty floor right beside him. “you’ve never been fun, but you were more fun before than you are now.”

“i went through this phase.” mark interrupts, taking the seat on taeyong’s opposite side. “what is it? mommy issues? a girl? or a boy? if you get spicy like that.” he chuckles. he coughs right after.

“how about everything. except the last part.” taeyong whispers.

“oh...you have it rough. was your mom a druggie too?”

“no - well, I don’t know. i met her like once when I was younger. she told me ‘i did it for your good’ and left.”

“so you were in a foster home? or did you get adopted?”

“foster home. neglected, so now I’m like this.” he chuckles. he’s laughing, but in reality to admit these things out loud hurt, even though he was sure the other boys had similar or worse stories.

“and the girl?” mark asks. he had began to roll up another blunt in the midst of taeyong’s life story. maybe it was too much for him. or maybe he was just an addict.

“i cheated. and i was mean. she was the best thing ever though. she got me clean.”

“for what? a day?” johnny laughs outloud.

“well, not clean clean.” he explains. “but off the hard stuck like coke, and lsd and shit. we both smoked weed. and I smoked cigs.”

“ew!” the two of them exclaim. “cigs?”

“so you’re telling me that the two of you do every drug under the sun, but cigarettes are where you draw the line?”

“duh!”

“have you seen all the commercials? with the person with the hole in their throat sounding like the old shriveled lady from spongebob going ‘chocolate!’ we don’t want that!”

“cigarettes aren’t the only thing that can cause that, you know?”

“whatever.” johnny shivers as if he had just gotten the worse news ever. “so this girl wasn’t a druggie? why did she even like you?”

“i don’t know. still to this day I don’t know. but she did. and she tried everything to make me happy. it just felt too good to be true, so I ruined it.”

“damn bro.” mark sighs, taking a deep puff of his blunt. “i thought people only did stupid shit like that in the movies or tv shows.”

“hey hey now, markie.” a voice speaks out of the corner. “be nice to our new friend.”

it’s jaehyun. funny enough, jaehyun tried to get at you once long before you met taeyong, but you had no interest in him once you found out his issues. then again, while he was attracted to you, he didn’t want you to love him. he just wanted to corrupt you.

“our boy is broken hearted. seems to me like he just needs some fun.”

“relax, jae.” johnny explains. “he’s not there yet. let him fall for us on his time.”

“what are you on right now?” jaehyun inspects.

“just a couple of blunts.”

“so just a starter?”

“hyung...” mark sighs.

“okay okay. fine. but when the heartbreak starts to kick in more, i got something that’ll change your life. you just let me know.”

“he will.” johnny and mark say once again in unison.

“boys!” a voice yells. it makes everyone stand up minus taeyong, as he had no idea who it was. he can hear feet coming down the steps. there’s a boy with blonde hair. the same boy who let him in. he was a new face, but clearly an important one from the way even jaehyun was waiting for his comment.

“hi felix!” everyone begins to repeat after eachother.

his voice is deep as he speaks, and his accent is thick. his face itself may have not been scary, but the way he carried himself was.

“clean up this fucking mess. i know you can’t do anything about the shitty couches, but make an attempt. i got some good people coming over and I need quiet. when I bring them down here to show them the product, i need everyone on their best behavior.”

“what exactly does that mean?” taeyong speaks. maybe he shouldn’t have, because everyone is looking at him as if he just called the president a bitch to his face or something.

“you’re new here.” felix explains as he finishes his strut down the stairs. he can be seen more clearly now, and his outfit reminds taeyong of someone you knew. he couldn’t remember his name, but it was chan or something. “well, new to me.”

“and?”

“and...” felix crouches to his level. “im the boss. and all of you do what I say. my brother ran this like a crackhouse. i want us to make some real money, therefore you all will be getting cleaned up. there will be people coming in and out, looking at what we have, so try not to act like the druggie you are. thanks.”

“yes sir.” taeyong says, although he has no intentions of respecting this felix cat.

the doorbell rings promptly. the house wasn’t so big that they wouldn’t be able to hear. clearly this felix had plans to change that, but for now he had to settle.

“that’ll be them. look like friends so they won’t be scared. they’re not like us. or, what you will be.”

with that he leaves. everyone is silent as they want to know who exactly is this person. they all expected some rich man with a million connections to be at the door. they hear one voice - an accent is present. he’s laughing, and they hear the sound of them dapping up.

“friend.” the voice says. they must have not seen each other in a long while. “what’s up? how have you been?”

“oh, I’ve never been better.” felix says. “and y/n.”

the sound of your name makes taeyong’s heart stop in his chest. what the? how could you of all people be here? you hated drugs. this was clearly a trap house. this is where taeyong would go to get everything you wanted, but you always refused to go with him. what male had you here?

jaehyun is smiling as he recognizes your name too. taeyong can’t notice though as he is genuinely about to have a panic attack.

“come downstairs will you? since chan told me it was a special occasion, I decided I’d let you two take a look.”

“felix...are you running a trap house?” you joke, not realizing how true your words were.

“not at all, sweets.” he relaxes you. “i just have good shit from my brother that needs to be sold. this is our little secret though.”

“we know.” chan answers for you. “snitches get stitches.”

“and end up in ditches.” felix finishes. “there are people down here, but they’re just chilling. don’t be scared.”

the three of you make your way down to the basement. jaehyun is the first face you recognize. you feel sick, but he didn’t phase you that much.

the black haired boy though, sandwiched between two other guys, makes your trip and fall on the disgusting floor.

it’s him. it’s really him.

why? all you wanted to do was have fun. all you wanted to do was forget him.

you can see in his eyes does he want to explode. but this was his fault. this was all his fault.

to be continued...

#nct #nct 127 #nct imagine #taeyong nct #NCT angst #nct reactions #taeyong series #taeyong angst #taeyong imagine #nct imagines #NCT series #stray kids #stray kids felix #chan stray kids

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why-this-kolaveri-machi · 3 years

Note

Dick and Jason are Robins at the same time

(titans ‘verse. au after 1.06)

(tagging @superohclair and @cautiousamber!)

dick has to admit that it’s not the worst arrangement: jason continues to be robin in gotham, and dick travels across the country with his little family while running from a homicidal cult, wearing the costume every now and then when he has no choice but to fight. this way batman is covered, dick still has access to some advanced gear and weaponry now that he needs it, and internet sleuths are kept on their toes when robin shows up in different ends of the country on the same day.

so what if reading news coverage of batman and robin in gotham feels like being punched in the chest, or hearing jason’s stories about learning new things from bruce everyday makes dick want to scream into a pillow? he is fine with this.

he. is. fine--

(kory knows he’s fraying at the edges. she watches, and she says nothing.)

the fight to help rachel and defeat trigon is long and hard, and involves painstakingly unravelling kory’s memories. they manage to find her spaceship, and it becomes their base for a good long while. they stay there long enough that dick loses some of the tension that’s had him on edge for... well. the better part of the last five years, to be honest.

dick begins training rachel and gar in earnest. kory is able to coax some memories of tamaranean cuisine and culture out, and dick is reminded more and more of the team that he lost everyday. despite his best efforts he’s invested now. he cooks and dances with kory (good thing he’s so flexible because the tamaranean version of a waltz is like a particularly sadistic game of twister), teaches rachel algebra and does yoga with gar. he even manages to forget about bruce for a bit.

jason shows up quite often when he figures out where they’re based, and after some initial tension, he becomes an unofficial member of their team (though at this stage dick is still reluctant to use that word). dick and jason patrol in the nearby city some nights, then go for ice cream later. dick’s even starting to see the strategic (and frankly comedic) potential of two robins on the same patrol.

time and familiarity softens how dick perceives jason: less reckless asshole and more bright young kid full of curiosity and a need to prove himself. he continues to tend towards gratuitous violence, but dick learns his triggers and helps jason recognise them as well. he soaks up the info on alien cultures and battles on kory’s ship faster than dick himself could hope to, and there is a terrible sort of tenderness to how he talks to the people he saves while on patrol. terrible, dick thinks, because he doesn’t know if he comes across like that now at all: soft and empathetic instead of aloof and shaking, too caught up in his own neuroses.

here’s the thing, the crux of it, the faultline that’s always threatening to break dick apart: he’s so afraid that he’s taken robin, his legacy, the ideals and persona that he modelled as a tribute to his parents, and made it into something so dark and broken that only batman could pass it on. jason showing up as his replacement one day only seemed to affirm that fear. but now, swinging through the skies with this kid who’s taken robin as an opportunity to learn and grow and be better, dick’s reminded of the best of his early days in the costume.

for the first time in what feels like forever, dick feels good about putting on the robin costume again.

(are you asking if dick tried to call home? of course he did. he chickens out and cuts the call to bruce after only a few rings, and feels a sad sort of vindication in noticing how bruce never attempts to call him back.

alfred picks up his call on the second ring, and dick feels like the smallest person in the world when he hears the genuine warmth, joy and relief in alfred’s voice as he greets him. there’s no excuse for dick refusing to talk to the man that practically raised him after his parents died and he knows it.

they talk for an hours while skirting around anything to do with bruce, which is an impressive feat all in itself. they finally talk about jason, and there’s a wistful sort of fondness in alfred’s voice as he says, “you’ve been a good influence on master jason.”

dick laughs. “he’s been a good influence on me.” it’s the first time he’s said it loud, but it feels true.

“you mustn’t underestimate the ways in which you change people, master dick,” alfred says. “you have been a light in our lives for so long.”

dick’s jaw clenches. all his memories of batman smudge together in never-ending shadow; when he thinks of bruce, he can only remember that remote expression on his face, that expression dick can project all his disgust and loathing and disappointment onto. maybe people should start considering how they influence me, dick wants to say. sometimes i can’t recognise who i’m seeing in the mirror every day and other times i hate him so much i want to--

“i miss you, alf,” he says instead, softly.

“my dear boy,” alfred starts, but he sounds choked. it’s ok. dick understands.)

things get worse, quickly. their enemies find and destroy their spaceship base, and they’re not nearly ready to take on trigon yet. they’re on the run again, alternating between motel rooms and empty warehouses.

the cult finally catches up to them; they are kidnapped and tortured for days in an abandoned asylum. they eventually escape, the building and the organisation in flames behind them, but the scars from the experience are deep: rachel is anxious and tearful almost all the time, gar’s usual cheer is replaced by a quiet, simmering self-loathing, kory refuses to talk about her experience but flinches at every touch, and dick... he feels like he’s been flayed, his mind and body laid raw and bleeding until nothing recognisable, nothing human is left. he can’t think, he can barely feel. half the time it feels like he’s observing what’s happening to him like it’s happening to somebody else entirely.

they’re a mess. he can’t do this, not when he feels like--like this. he resists calling anybody for help, but one night he breaks down and calls donna. he doesn’t remember what he says on the call, but wakes up the next morning, eyes raw, tear tracks on his face, and a text from donna that says: i’ll be there in a day. stay put, bw,

“wow you’re a mess,” jason says from a corner of the room. any other time, dick would be on his feet, demanding to know how jason found them. now though, he’s feeling out of his body again, and so he says, “i kind of am, aren’t i?” and watches the words float, parting the air above him.

jason sighs.

being with donna helps get his head on straight, even though at first her appearance threatened to bring back even more traumatic memories. she’s a soothing, sobering presence not just for him, but for the others as well. they continue to motel-hop as they prepare for their big final battle against trigon.

jason continues to find them, somehow. (dick wouldn’t put installing a tracker on one of them beyond him, but he’s much too tired to feel angry about that.) he chats with dick and sometimes they bond by watching a movie together or swinging from buildings in the chill, crisp night air, jason’s cackling laugh echoing in dick’s ears.

jason always leaves as quickly as he appears, but dick is grateful for his presence.

they defeat trigon, and there’s a party. even hank and dawn show up. jason is conspicuous in his absence.

after several unanswered texts and calls, dick bites the bullet and calls alfred. “hey alf,” he says when the man picks up, “is jason there?”

there’s a long pause at the other end of the line. then: “did master bruce not tell you?” his voice sounds uncharacteristically hoarse.

dick’s stomach starts to sink. he steps away from the others and into a quiet room. “tell me what?”

“master jason...” alfred sighs. “he--he was killed by the joker two months ago. the funeral was last week.”

dick stumbles back to sit on the bed. the phone threatens to fall from his numb fingers even while his heart thunders against his ribs. “that’s impossible,” he manages. “i saw him five days ago. we saw--” there’s a hysterical laugh building in his chest, howling like a thunderstorm, “fuck we saw moulin rogue together. he told me how much he fucking loves musicals, i--”

alfred’s voice is suddenly distant and tinny. dick looks down to see his phone on the floor. he’s suddenly very, very aware of the dryness of his palms, the hot flush at the tips of his ears, the tears that are starting to slide down his cheeks, the way his lungs are burning with shock and grief and rage--

“hey, dickie,” jason says, smiling at him. “glad you finally caught up.”

( send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons! )

#this got completely out of control #yikes #titans #my fic #dick grayson #jason todd #a byronic cupcake #a tragic jalebi #cw mental illness #ptsd #please let me know if i should tag/warn for anything #sillierthanasillylaugh

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degurechaff-tanya · 3 years

Note

Okay so let’s say older Tanya did get with a male s/o and gave birth to a baby. Any ideas for mama bear Tanya?

Ahh loving this idea! Sorry that it’s taken me so long to respond to this, btw. I keep trying to write this answer but end up going on long tangents. I’ll try to keep my ideas organized this time.

So, I imagine living so many years while fighting a war would have quite an impact on Tanya’s psyche. I think by the end of the war, it’s fair to say she’d have endured an incredible amount of trauma. This raises the question: why would Tanya want to bring a child into this world? Maybe because her husband wanted it, and she decided to appease him (or maybe it was even an accident, lol). Whichever the case, let’s say Tanya finds herself having a child.

Before/right after the baby is born, I feel like she would have to be constantly begged by her husband to be more careful, get more sleep, take some time off of work, etc. Tanya is used to working constantly, working late, and barely sleeping. It would be hard for her to mentally transition from only having to worry about herself to having to worry about someone else as well. But as everyone encourages her to rest, she might actually enjoy maternity leave because it’s the first time in a long time she will feel justified to relax.

But she still can’t shake the feeling that it’s a mistake to bring another soul into this world.

She may become paranoid that Being X will try to involve her child in their battle, which isn’t an irrational worry considering the crazy shit he’s pulled in the past. So as the child begins to grow up, Tanya will constantly be looking over her shoulder for any sign of Being X. By far, her worst fear would be that he would bestow her child with the same godly curse that he gave to Anson Sioux, Mary Sioux, and Tanya. And who’s to say this isn’t possible? Tanya is a powerful mage, so her child may be too.

And Tanya’s protectiveness of her child wouldn’t just extend to Being X--all of her anxiety over somebody laying a hand on her kid would extend to anything, playground bullies included. In my opinion, Tanya would totally be the parent who would see her child being excluded from a game by the neighborhood kids and decide to sit out on her porch to watch them. While polishing her rifle. And maybe her sidearm too.

The war may be over, but with all of the trauma Tanya’s been through, and her fight with Being X always continuing, I think she’d still carry her weapons with her wherever it’s allowed. People around town would probably whisper that she’s been driven a bit crazy by her childhood on the battlefield, but Tanya wouldn’t care. She would rather come off as crazy than have people underestimate her.

While Tanya has every intention of doing what’s best for her child, I’m sure her child doesn’t always appreciate it. I mean, it can’t be easy when your mom is the “scary, possibly crazy” lady in the neighborhood. Nobody would want to come to your house after school! Tanya may be a respected war hero in the national news, but the adults of the neighborhood see her as a commander-turned-parent who needs to be less authoritative and lighten up a little.

Nonetheless, I’m sure Tanya’s child would look up to her as a role model of strength and confidence. And I’m sure her child would love her deeply.

#ask #anon #skye talks #youjo senki #saga of tanya the evil

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kingneptunesthinninghead · 3 years

Text

In your opinion, which fast food place has the best fries? i love me some mcdonald’s fries.

Are there hurricanes where you live? they happen every once in a while

What do you hate the most about yourself? I'd really rather not get into this right about now. same

What song are you listening to right now? nothing but catch fire by 5sos is stuck in my head.

What was your first concert? brad paisley 🤠.

What’s your favorite Johnny Depp movie? willy wonka and the chocolate factory

Who did you last say “I love you” to? My sister. probably same

Do you like pumpkin pie? it’s about the only pie i DO like.

Do you know anyone named Austin? no one i like

Do you know anyone who is having a baby? my friend just gave birth to a baby about a week ago

What was the last thing you cried about? i cried in the car on the way home from work last night while listening to jet black heart lmaooo.

Do you prefer regular or chocolate milk? i dont drink milk.

Do you think you are an argumentative person? Definitely not. agreed, i’m conflict avoidant to a fault

How many deep dark secrets do you have? i dont think i have any

What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten? the hot wings from bonchon were pretty f’n spicy

Who last called you sexy? i dont remember

Would you class yourself as a good role model? i think for the most part

Are you scared of the dark? sometimes i am

Do you have a motto? nah.

Who did you last see on webcam? my club committee from school

Do you need a haircut? i just got one about a month ago so not atm

How would you react if your mother told you that she was pregnant again? that would be impossible considering she’s in menopause and has her tubes tied

You log into Facebook and see the red ‘1’ notification next to the message icon. Who do you want it to be? no one i hate facebook

Would you rather exercise alone or with other people? most of the time alone but sometimes i’ll exercise with my sister or in a structured workout class

What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played? any bc i suck at video games

Ever watch the show Supernatural? nope

Ever heard of flavored honey? If so, what’s you’re favorite flavor? i’ve heard of it but never tried it

Do you remember what your favorite show was when you were little? i went thru hardcore icarly and victorious phases, also LOVED spongebob

Do you put anything besides cheese on grilled cheese sandwiches? sometimes i’ll do bacon on mine

When it comes to books, what do you think is the “perfect” amount of pages? the length of a book has never deterred me from reading it, ever.

Would you ever be interested in going scuba diving? maybe

Out of all of your friends/relatives, who would you say has the best vocabulary? not to toot my own horn but me

Are any of your fingers or toes deformed? What about the nails? no

When is the last time you cried? didnt i already answer this

Would you ever date somebody that has been divorced more than once? mm prob not

What are some stereotypically nerdy things that you like? i guess marvel and space would count

Have you ever attended a wedding that ended where the bride and groom didn’t actually get married? What happened? no but i’ve attended several weddings of people who have quickly divorced

What scares you the most about becoming a mother (hypothetically, if you don’t want to have children)? raising them to be a good well adjusted person.

Would you ever want a job in fashion? What would you enjoy about that type of job? prob not

Would you ever be a surrogate mother? nope

What do you think would be the best and worst parts about being a twin? i would love having that strong of a bond with someone and having someone to go thru life with but i would also feel like i never had anything that was truly mine esp in early childhood

Do you feel that your childhood was more rough compared to others around you? my childhood was great compared to a lot of peoples and i’m extremely thankful for that

How would you react if you found out today that you were actually adopted? i would feel betrayed that i’d lied to for 20 years

Have either of your parents ever cheated on one another before, that you know of? How would you react if you found out today that one of them cheated? not that i know of and again i would feel crushed and betrayed

Do you like cleaning and organizing? when i’m in the mood for it

How would you react if you found out you were infertile? If you don’t plan on having kids to begin with, what is a long-term goal you’d be crushed to find out was impossible to achieve? i would definitely be upset bc i want to have at least one biological kid but in the end i would find just as much joy from adopting a child and giving them a loving home.

Would you take your dream job if it were out of the country? it depends on what other factors are in my life at the time

Have you ever been robbed? no

Is anyone close to you an alcoholic? my friend at college and that’s not even a joke that’s genuine. i think he’s getting the help he needs tho which is good

Have you ever dumped anyone? no

What kind of tea do you drink? I hate tea. same it tastes like dish water

Do you know anyone in a gang? No, and I hope I never do. same

What’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you? omg i still remember this bc i was blown away by how sweet it was. so in 9th grade i had one friend in my pe class and idek how we started talking but we just stuck by each other bc we didn’t have anyone else and we sat at our own table right by the teacher’s desk in health class and we actually became pretty close friends throughout the year well anyway i mentioned my birthday was coming up and she asked me what i wanted and i was like no you don’t have to and she was like do you want flowers and i was like sure why not and i didn’t think she was gonna actually do it but then on my birthday she shows up to health class with these beautiful purple flowers and i was so shocked that she actually got them for me so yeah i’ve never forgotten that ever. she moved away after that year and i never saw her again but i hope she’s doing well

What is your orientation? Gay? Straight? Metrosexual? straight but i have questioned before.

Have you ever done anything really dangerous or illegal with friends? nothing too wild

Name three feelings you’re feeling right now: bored, content, excited

And the reasons for these feelings? bored bc i’m at work, content bc i like the way my life is going rn, excited bc i get to go back to school and see all my college friends soon.

How do you feel about your life right now? pretty pleased at the moment

Is it easy for you to like yourself? Why or why not? no. it’s a conscious choice to like yourself that you have to make everyday and some days that choice is easier to make than others

What subjects come naturally to you? English, some aspects of science. agree with this, i’m very good at english and i understand some science

What subjects do not? MATH

Do you read more fiction or more non-fiction books? fiction but sometimes i like a good non fiction book.

How has today been for you? pretty good nothing too exciting

What did you do? watched tv and went to work

Are there any candles lit in the room you’re in? no

Are there any lava lamps near you? nope.

Do you like cats or dogs better? Cats. agree i have 4

Are any of your friends a pothead? yes, several

What’s a goal you’re trying to accomplish soon? start working out consistently again and get into therapy.

Are you a high maintenance person? nope

The last time you yelled as loud as you could, what was the reason? i was at a karaoke night

Have you ever been heartbroken? yep

Who did that to you? my ex crush

Did you go through an ugly stage as a kid? ohhhh yeah

The last type of sandwich you made or ate: a ham and cheese sandwich with pepperoni and mayo

The last time you spent most of the day in bed: when i was at school and i had stayed up until 6am the night before.

The last friend or acquaintance you made: my coworker

The last thing you took pictures of: a rainbow

The last time you were scared: when i thought a car was following me the other night

The last thing you looked up online: manic panic hair dye.

The last thing you disagreed with: i don’t remember.

Does your house have a separate laundry room? yep

Do your parents still help you financially? yes, a lot

Does your car have a backup camera? nope.

Have either of your parents ever been in trouble with the law? not to where they’ve been arrested

Have you ever had a pet that lived to be really old for its breed/species? my childhood cat lived to be 18 which was pretty impressive.

What was the last strong scent you smelled? my cat’s fart

Have you ever told someone to their face that they were ugly? no way

Is your bed against more than one of your walls? nope

Have you ever been attracted to someone’s parent? um yes some people i know have dilfs i’m sorry

Have you ever pole danced before? no

Have you ever broken into someone’s house? no.

Have you ever seen a live bat? yup at a beach house in the obx

What is the most amount of money you’ve spent on a meal before? i bought bonchon for my friends and i one time which was just about $100

Have you ever taken a woodshop class? no

How much time do you spend on Facebook, if you have one? as little time as possible.

Has a teacher ever made you hate yourself/your work? i had one math teacher in high school that consistently made me feel dumb bc i needed extra help to understand the concepts and couldn’t do mental math that fast so didnt like her

Have you ever been on the barrier or front row at a concert? closest i’ve been was second row

Are your parents supportive of you? yep

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foxstage635 · 3 years

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War Thunder On Hand

War Thunder Awards

War Thunder Dab Hand Title

War Thunder Battle Awards

Part of The Complete Beginner’s Guide

General Air Combat

War Thunder Awards

Secure the upper hand before attacking. If possible, keep the sun behind you. – altitude is almost always an advantage, and War Thunder models sun glare and the consequent reduction in visibility Always continue with an attack you have begun – Reasonable advice in the early ranks, especially with biplanes, but not always the best thing to. Today I show you how to improve or to setup your joystick controls for War Thunder. I constantly get asked 'how to stop wobbling' in War Thunder.

There’s masses of literature already devoted to air combat, both real life and simulated so I won’t spend too much time on Thach Weaves, Immelman Turns, boom and zoom, turn n’ burn, salt n’ shake, Chaka Demus n’ Pliers and the like. War Thunder aims for a degree of realism, albeit very broadly in Arcade matches, so tips and tactics from real life tend to work in the game. Billy Bishop offers some good advice from his flying school, for example, or perhaps slightly more usefully most of Boelcke’s rules from 1916 translate quite well into the game:

Secure the upper hand before attacking. If possible, keep the sun behind you. – altitude is almost always an advantage, and War Thunder models sun glare and the consequent reduction in visibility

Always continue with an attack you have begun – Reasonable advice in the early ranks, especially with biplanes, but not always the best thing to do later on. It’s always tempting to try and keep turning towards an opponent to bring them into your sights, but if they’re in a more manoeuvrable plane then at best you’ll just keep going around in circles (vulnerable to another opponent), at worst they’ll turn the tables and get behind you (much like a Benny Hill and/or Scooby Doo chase sequence…) If you have an energy (i.e. speed and height) advantage, then “boom and zoom” tends to be a more effective technique: dive down and make a quick slashing attack on the target, zooming away at speed back to a higher altitude before they can chase after you.

Open fire only at close range, and then only when the opponent is squarely in your sights – The lead indicator appears when you’re within about 800m in Arcade mode, but you probably won’t land many hits at that range, so don’t hold the fire button down and waste all your ammo and/or jam the guns; maybe try a burst or two, but try and get closer if you can

You should always try to keep your eye on your opponent, and never let yourself be deceived by ruses – You can give yourself a helping hand here by locking on to your target (middle mouse button by default), then a helpful red arrow will point in their direction if you lose sight during violent manoeuvres

In any type of attack, it is essential to assail your opponent from behind – the lead indicator in Arcade mode makes deflection shooting (from the side) easier, but it’s only a guide, it’s better to attack from directly behind if possible. Head-on attacks are a very risky business, you’ve as much chance of having your own pilot or engine knocked out as of scoring a kill, and if you survive the gunfire then there’s still a high probability of a collision

If your opponent dives on you, do not try to get around his attack, but fly to meet it – if someone is diving on you, chances are they have a speed advantage so trying to run rarely works, turning in to them at least minimises their opportunity for a shot.

When over the enemy’s lines, always remember your own line of retreat – Not quite so vital here, but if you are damaged and deep in enemy territory you can try and get back to your own airfield, there’ll usually be more friendlies by your own spawn point who may try and cover you

Tip for Squadrons: In principle, it is better to attack in groups of four or six. Avoid two aircraft attacking the same opponent – if you can find a friend or two to team up with, it can really help to have someone watching your back. Definitely try and avoid attacking an opponent that someone else is attacking, there’s a very high risk of friendly fire or collisions

War Thunder Dab Hand Title

Do not look directly at the sun

For more detail there are sections on the official and unofficial wikis with useful articles, there’s plenty on YouTube from people like Bis18marck70 and GrmlZ; if you have a specific questions you can try the Official Forums or the War Thunder subreddit.

One thing fairly specific to Arcade mode in War Thunder is mid-air ammunition resupply; if you fire all your ammunition, there’s a nasty ‘click’, and you’ll see a counter in the top left hand corner showing how long you have before the guns reload. This starts off at about 20 seconds for machine guns, but can be reduced by training the crew. Obviously this is slightly inconvenient if you’re in the middle of a fight, so if you think you’re running low on ammunition and you have a bit of breathing space you can head away from threats and manually reload (press ‘Y’ by default). Machine guns generally have a reasonable amount of ammunition, reloading is more important for some cannon-armed fighters as large calibre weapons (20mm and above) have less ammunition to start with (the Spitfire IIb has only 60 rounds for each cannon), and reloading cannons takes twice as long as machine guns.

Watch out for overheating guns as well. As you fire, a red circle fills around your gunsight; this represents your guns heating up. The longer you fire the greater the chance of a jam, so firing in short bursts is generally a better idea than holding the trigger down, unless you really need to bring something down in a hurry, like an aircraft about to land on your airfield in Domination.

War Thunder Battle Awards

Speaking of really needing to bring an aircraft down, there is a last resort: ramming. Rather a divisive subject, often a cause outbursts of anger in the chat window; deliberate ramming should very much be a last resort, as nobody gets credit for a kill if a plane is destroyed in a collision (you can really annoy somebody on your own side if they critically damage an enemy, then you come along and ram it before it actually crashes), but if your guns are reloading and really need to stop an opponent you don’t have many options. A lot of ‘ramming’ incidents happen during head-on attacks, and if you’re playing a game of chicken then you’re at least as much to blame as the other person if you do crash. If you really like your plane you should take early evasive action in such a situation; if I’m in a shiny new high rank fighter I’ll break off and circle around for another shot rather, if I’m in something of a lower rank that’s suffered some damage, heck, I’ll keep the fire button held down, and if the other guy doesn’t turn that’s his problem… There’s always a risk of accidental collisions and friendly fire too, especially if there are three or four people chasing the same opponent; these things happen, it’s best not to get too worked up about it, but do be careful, even if just to avoid the cash and XP penalty from downing a friendly.

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #301

“i was waiting for my chance to find the light”

Did you like the beach a lot more as a kid more than you do now? Why/Why not? I did. Everything was more fun as a kid. I never REALLY loved it, though, because I did and still do hate the heat and walking through sand and getting it stuck all over you. It's pretty much torture now because I have extreme difficulty walking through sand. Has there ever been a time where you just couldn't stop crying? Explain. I know I've had days many years ago when my PTSD was truly awful where I'd sob multiple times a day. What's your least favorite time of day? Why don't you like that time?Late afternoon, like around 3-4 or so. By that point I'm usually bored senseless and going downhill. Do you like your lips? Do you enjoy kissing? They're fine, ig. And I mean yeah, if I'm really into the person? Do you like any music from the American Idols? Which ones? Ngl, I don't even remember any besides Kelly Clarkson, and who the FUCK doesn't like "Breakaway." Do you like when people challenge you? If so, in what? No, I get nervous about embarrassing myself. Personally for you, is falling for someone way beyond your control? It is entirely out of my control. What's something other than a fruit that you love in milkshakes? (Ex.twix ) Mostly chocolate stuff, haha. What is your all time FAVORITE milkshake? Ever tried the Reese's Blast from Sonic? That's some A+ shit. What's the latest you've ever stayed up reading a book? No clue. When having a peanut butter & jam sandwich, what is the best kind of jam? Grape. Do you like to write poetry? Yeah, but it's been a long time since I wrote anything. I used to do it aaall the time, but now I have to be seriously motivated and dedicated to the idea. When you get mad do you cry? Absolutely. Would you ever consider modeling? No. I do think one or two model-esque photos of myself would be nice and possibly help my self-confidence, but it's not something I'm seeking out and paying for. Are you scared of crossing bridges? Not very, no. If they're kinda sketchy-looking, I might feel a tad tense, but I'm not really scared of them. Would you consider yourself clumsy? I am unfuckingbelievably clumsy. Ever bought ice cream from an ice cream truck? Yeah, sometimes Mom would let me and my sisters do that as kids when one came through our neighborhood. Have you ever had a poem or story published? No. If you had/have a kid would you ever let them get a tattoo? If they were of the appropriate age, of course. And if they were getting it done professionally and not at some party drunk with friends. They better be in a sterile environment with someone who knows what they're doing. Do you love guinea pigs? Absolutely. I had three or four as pets when I was a kid. What is the worst thing you ever did that got you grounded? Probably run away from home. Have you ever been chased by a snake? No... and this is a misconception. Snakes don't chase. They go for what they see as the safest escape route, and sometimes they identify your own chosen direction as where they wanted to head, too. Where do you wanna work? I want to be a freelance photographer. What awards have you won? A lot of "A honor roll" trophies through school, among other academic awards. I seriously don't know what happened to that intelligence. I also have dance awards and lots of childhood sports team stuff. Would you consider yourself good at taking care of kids? I don't think I am, no. I'm way too nervous and awkward around kids. I've had to babysit for my sister twice though, and Ashley told me the kids had lots of fun and had no complaints. I guess like... I can do it, I am just very, very uncomfortable taking kids under my wing. I worry about leading them in the wrong direction. How old would a guy have to be before you wouldn't date them? I don't know, it would really depend on how much I was into the person. I generally stick with the approximation of a ten year gap though being my limit, so I think maybe him being in his mid-30s would make me feel a bit too weird. Be honest, have you ever tried weed? No, but quite honestly, I'd probably try an edible. I refuse to smoke anything for my lungs' sake. I'm curious if medical marijuana would actually be beneficial for me. Has anyone ever broken up with you with a note? No, but uh... I have, lol. It's how I broke up with my "puppy-dog love" boyfriend in middle school. Literally after he asked me if I was thinking of breaking up with him, and I said no before handing him the note because I was just too scared to do it to his face. I know, that was absolutely awful. Never, ever do that to the most innocent boy ever, kids. He didn't deserve that. Do you have sensitive teeth? Kinda. What was the worst thing you ever did to get detention/suspended? I've only ever had detention once for having too many tardies to my first class of the day in high school. We'd frequently arrive to school just a few minutes late because I was fucking impossible to drag out of bed. Have you ever suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder? Yes. Do you suffer from nasal allergies? Yes. What's your favorite kind of pudding? I only really like chocolate pudding. Have you done anything really interesting lately? I guess you could consider starting a virtual partial hospitalization program "interesting." It's not the intensive version like my first was, but rather being shorter. I just really need something to get my mental health back on the tracks. What’s the latest really fun thing you’ve done? REALLY fun? Hell if I know. I don't experience "fun" a lot at all anymore... I only ever feel like, this watered down, unenthusiastic sorry excuse for it. Have you discovered any good music lately? Oh yeah, I've found lots of 3TEETH songs I'm mad into. "ULTRAnumb" by Blue Stahli is also a total bop. How about any good new television shows? No. Or perhaps some interesting books? Nothing new, no. Have you picked up a new hobby or learned a new skill? I mean, within what timespan? Nothing lately, really. Has anybody ever done your makeup for you? Yeah. Do you own any sparkly items of clothing? No. What’s the most colorful accessory you own and use? *shrug* Do you enjoy drag artists’ work? If so, name some of your favorites. Oh yes, I have wild respect for drag queens. I don't know enough of them to have a fair favorite, but I do watch Trixie Mattel on YouTube and he is a goddamn hoot. What, right now, is the best thing in your life? Um. I don't really know. Probably the fact my mother still lets my too-big-for-the-nest ass to live with her... I don't want to picture how my life would be if I didn't have her still essentially holding my hand. What’s a place you like to go to when you need to get away for a bit? I actually love car rides for this, so long as I can ride passenger and just blare my music and not talk. It's so odd, being afraid of driving but finding great freedom and comfort in just... going. Do you like apples? I love apples. Anything exciting coming up for you in the near future? I paid the deposit for my tattoo appointment, so it was officially scheduled in May!! I was expecting an open date to be kinda far with just how amazing this parlor is, so I wasn't too shocked to hear I have to wait a few months, but man I can hardly wait. When you get an account for something, what's the first username you try? Unless it's for a "professional" site, in which case I'd use my actual name, I just about without fail with use "Ozzkat," or replace the "o" with a zero if that's somehow taken. Would you be okay with a friend wanting to date one of your exes? Which ex? What kind of accent do people typically have where you're from? Southern. Does history interest you at all? Can't say it does. What's something you wish you could do-over? There are many things, man. Is your hair in layers or is it all the same length? Neither, really. The left side of my head is very short/shaved, and as the hair goes around to the right, it gets longer. There aren't "layers," though. Is there anyone who you're afraid to be in a car with, if they're driving? I wouldn't say afraid, but with my sister's road rage and serious tail-gating issue, riding with her can make me nervous. What's something you're very good at? Um, I guess creative writing. Do you like sour gummy worms? oh FUCK yeah Would you pick up a hitchhiker if they seemed harmless? No. I am way too paranoid for that shit. Would you be bothered if your boyfriend liked to bite you? Uhhh I'm going to assume you mean this in a sexual context, in which case I don't care so long as it's not in a visible spot. How often do you get the opportunity to be completely alone? The answer used to be a shitload, and seeing as I'm in my room most of the time, I still feel like that's kind of true, but since Mom's cancer diagnosis and she had to stop working, she's usually home with me. I like it that way, though. Total isolation is bad for me. Do you have a trampoline? Nah, haven't in many years. What's your favorite Pixar movie? Finding Nemo. What is the strangest thing you've been asked? Something sexual that made me extremely uncomfortable. What’s the weirdest thing about life that people just accept as normal? The fact we put so much worth into pieces of green paper. What's the most random thing you've done out of boredom? *shrug* What show did your parents not let you watch as a kid? There weren't any specific shows that we even wanted to watch that Mom forbade us to see... I mean she certainly wouldn't let my sisters and I watch something like South Park as little kids, but none of us really sought unsuitable shows out. We were all about Disney, Nick, and Animal Planet in my case. What is the most pleasurable feeling that doesn't involve anything sexual? What comes to mind first is a big hug from someone who makes you feel safe when you don't anywhere else. What was your last "oops, wrong person" moment? I'm going to assume I sent somebody a text meant for another person. I'm super careful about avoiding stuff like this because I get horribly embarrassed, so it's difficult to recall the last time I slipped up. What do you find attractive that isn't considered "normal" attraction? Having a broad imagination and drive to create. What’s the dumbest thing you’ve done drunk? N/A What's something you really enjoy, but can't have? A pet tarantula because Mom refuses to let me lmao. I'm so into them now and desperately want a Grammastola pulchra. What Wikipedia article have you recently read? I haven't read any recently. What subject should be taught at schools, but isn't? Basic adulting and financial skills. What is the worst game you've ever played? I dunno. I've played sooooo many video games throughout my life. What tragic event was coincidentally beneficial to you? My overdose because it led to an intensive partial hospitalization program that totally changed my life. What did you think was cool when you were younger that you now think isn’t? Good question... What are your favorite or most memorable lines from any movie/show? I vaguely remember the concepts of some quotes, but not well enough to recite them. None that are seriously memorable or heavy pop up in my head now. What's a good example of 'Don't knock it till you try it'? Putting peanut butter on top of waffles with syrup. It is fucking delicious. What's your go-to get pumped up song? 5FDP's cover of "Mama Said Knock You Out" is badass HYPE. What's the dumbest thing your parents have said or done? Well, through a family assessment before my current partial hospitalization could begin, I very recently learned my dad fucking did drugs before my sisters and I were born, including shit like cocaine. That was great to suddenly learn. As for my mom... probably have a kid too young? She doesn't talk very much about her eldest daughter's history with (and without) her, but I know enough to know that was a very rocky time in her life. What are some things you wish existed? Cures for countless illnesses, and I also have SUUUUUCH a yearning for some kind of technology that could copy an image in your head onto a drawing device. If only I could draw how/what I see up there... Which person shaped you the most? Jason. Or Mom. What’s the one movie you couldn’t finish? Why? Couldn't tell you; I just haven't watched enough. What's a small thing you have a big passion for? Meerkats, quite literally with "small" lmao. What change have you made recently to help the environment? I have metal straws I try to remember to bring with me if I go out to eat. What was the hardest thing you've ever had to forgive? The way Jason left. Is there anything or anyone you're angry at, that you haven't forgiven yet? I sometimes question if I truly have forgiven Jason. I lean kinda heavily towards yes, I have, I'm just bitter about it all regardless. Have you ever plotted revenge against someone? No. Have you ever done anything to get revenge against someone? I can't think of anything off the top of my head. What is the greatest longing of your heart? To feel purpose. Who was your first love? Some guy in high school who "had" to talk to me upon seeing me the first time, only to wind up wanting to hear nothing from me later on down the line. What denomination is your church (if you go)? N/A What was the first year you voted in a presidential election? This most recent election, actually. Have you ever been afraid of the world ending? I used to worry it would happen in my lifetime, but now I don't. If it ends, it ends. I ain't got much to lose nowadays. What is unfair about your life? My mental health. My financial position. I'd rather not focus on the billion shitty things going on in my life rn, so next question. Did you write love poems when you were younger? ugh Who are you jealous of and why? There's a lot of people I'm in some way envious of, honestly. Have you ever had an account of yours hacked? Yes. Thankfully nothing major happened. Have you ever been a victim of police misconduct? No.

#survey #surveys #questions #questionnaire #lyrics: ''creatures x: to the grave'' by motionless in white

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whatcouldgowrong-ohthat · 5 years

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Just Like This (Bucky X Reader)

Okay, so I really wasn’t planning on making a part two for the songfic “To Live For, To Die For”…but then I kept writing it. And I kept picturing what happens after and if there was something else to happen. Then…this became a thing. Hope you guys like it!

Sequel to: “To Live For, To Die For”

Also - in this AU Shuri DID NOT get dusted. Instead, it was T’Challa’s wife, Orroro.

Bucky watched Steve and Sam talk from a distance, hands shoved in his pockets. He knew Sam would be pissed that Steve decided to leave. Hell, a part of him was too. Bucky couldn’t deny that. “Till the end of the line” was such…bullshit. Apparently a lot of things were.

“Sergeant Barnes?”

Bucky closed his eyes. He took a slow breath as Shuri joined his side. She was here for the funeral. He’d seen her with T’Challa and Orroro, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything to them. Seeing Orroro reminded him of her. And remembering her…it was too much right now.

“I told you to call me ‘Bucky’,” he reminded, his voice soft.

Shuri nodded, knowing better than to egg him on. Now was not the time. So much had happened in such a short period of time. She had lost her brother and her sister-in-law for five years. She had almost lost them again if Thanos had won. A part of her had wallowed, she knew that. Shuri didn’t want to admit it. She wanted to say that she was strong and capable of overcoming such feelings, but she was human. Humans deserved to feel.

“What occurred under Queen Shuri’s rule, hm?” he asked, faint smile and pain-filled eyes staring intently at her. He was curious, always was. Bucky loved Wakanda.

“Well, your goats survived the blip if that makes you feel any better.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head, long hair falling to hide his face. He loved his goats. A part of him wanted to go back to Wakanda, but another part of him wasn’t sure he could live with the memories there. “You’ve grown up since the last time I saw you, princess,” Bucky told her, noting how she still had that joy. She would always have that quirky happiness, but there was something else. Shuri had become an adult in their time away.

“Perhaps that’s what happens when you’re queen.”

“You didn’t run Wakanda into the ground, did you?”

Shuri laughed, elbowing his arm and shaking her head. “No, actually. I opened our doors to mutants.” She saw him tense and the way his jaw clenched. “We made advancements in almost every field imaginable by combining our forces.”

“And how does your brother feel about this?”

“Do remember he is married to the infamous Storm,” she said, cheeky grin brightening her eyes. “I did it for them, a way to honor their lives. And now they are back.”

“I’m sure Orroro will love it.”

“I’m sure you will too.” She saw the way Bucky looked at her, raising an eyebrow and studying her as if she held some crazy secret. “What? I’m just saying.”

“Just saying?”

Shuri smiled and squeezed his arm. “Come to Wakanda.” She was telling him. Not asking. “I want to take the opportunity to impress you.”

I’ve been reading books of old The legends and the myths Achilles, and his gold Hercules, and his gifts Spiderman’s control And Batman with his fists And clearly I don’t see myself upon that list

It was two months before Bucky could actually bring himself to visit Wakanda. The last time he had been there, the love of his live had died. He’d run out of time and failed in the worst way imaginable. But he had to visit for Shuri.

He owed the young genius that much.

However, that didn’t mean he expected this. Wakanda was thriving even more so than before. And he didn’t think that was even possible. Albeit, at the moment it was a bit overpopulated, but the construction he saw on his way in showed that T’Challa was more than willing to support his sister’s ideas from his time away. Looking around, Bucky watched with surprise as young mutants raced with wanna-be warriors through the streets. It was clear that both sides welcomed the other and enjoyed these new games. He wished he could be a part of it.

“Duck, dude!” Bucky heard the voice and listening was merely instinct. He ducked back, shielding his head with his metal arm as a blast of fireworks flew through the air. He carefully looked up, raising an eyebrow when he saw a teenager in a bright yellow jacket run right past. She didn’t so much as look back at him as she shouted, “Sorry ‘bout that!”

Bucky straightened, running a hand through his hair nervously. There were a lot of people. Why couldn’t he be back at the hut with the goats? He clenched his jaw, the image of her flashing through his head.

Oh yeah, that’s why.

“Sergeant Barnes, there you are.” Bucky looked over his shoulder, smirking when he saw the reinstated princess walking his way. She was dressed much more casually than the last time he’d seen her, wearing only a t-shirt and baggy jeans.

“What did I tell you about calling me that?”

“And what did I tell you about letting my guards provide an escort? I don’t like being kept waiting.” Shuri crossed her arms, giving him a look that showed there was no way Bucky could get out of this. He was here for Shuri, he had to remember that.

“So what is it you want to show me?” he asked, walking in stride with her.

“You like technological advancements, yes?” She didn’t bother waiting, already knowing the answer. “Then come with me. You’ll love what I’ve accomplished these past years.” Bucky laughed as she grabbed his arm and pulled him along. He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

The med bay was the first stop. She showed him where mutants with healing abilities were being studied for treating cancer, how they were volunteering because they were just as interested in what could come from these sorts of advancements. And yes, while that was fascinating, Bucky could admit that, he found himself coming to a stop outside one of the rooms. He could only see through the blinds, but what he saw was fascinating. There was a 3D hologram model of a skeletal system and, standing across from it, was a pink-haired mutant with bone marrow jutting out of her skin. It came from her forehead, her back, arms, and legs.

“That’s a mutation?” Bucky asked, looking at Shuri. “She’s like…” He cleared his throat, unable to bring himself to say her name. “She’s a mutant?”

Shuri nodded. “Her bone marrow is helping us understand its strengths and limitations. She wants to help us find a way to combine it with vibranium. I was utterly fascinated by the idea of combining something so human and real with something so technological.”

“How did she even get to Wakanda?”

“Apparently she has a mutual friend with my sister-in-law,” Shuri said, shrugging. “A Lebeau or something. I don’t know. Now, come on! There’s more to see!”

Shuri took charge once again and Bucky stumbled to keep up with her eagerness. The girl was something else indeed. “Where to now?”

The science lab. Shuri’s home away from home.

The doors opened with a loud hiss. “My stars and garters!” Bucky jerked his head up, instinctively stepping in front of Shuri when he was greeted by the stranger hanging from the rafters. He was big. He was hairy. He was blue.

“Sergeant Barnes, it’s fine,” Shuri assured him, pushing his arm down as Bucky glanced at her. Fine? Really?

The blue fur ball smiled sheepishly, his feet letting go of the rafters. He landed like a cat, adjusting his glasses along the way. “My apologies, I know the appearance can be a bit overwhelming. Please, Hank McCoy.” He held a hand out and, though Bucky was confused, they shook hands like a pair of true gentlemen. He liked that. He liked that moment of normalcy. “I’ve been studying the super serum used on you and your friend, Steve Rogers. It’s fascinating, far ahead of its time and Princess Shuri here has truly developed an environment where things ahead of their time can be properly understood.”

“Are you trying to recreate it?” Bucky frowned. More soldiers. That wasn’t something the world needed.

“Absolutely not. But knowing how that worked, perhaps there is a way to target cells. To help them function properly. Think of an infant born preterm. There are organs underdeveloped, the child’s body is going through shock, there are high risk problems. Blood from advanced mutations isn’t exactly the safest way for healing. If I could understand the serum itself then perhaps there would be a way to downsize it, to break it into pieces and -” Hank saw the way Bucky looked at him, wide eyed and confused, but also fascinated. Offering the friendliest smile, he patted Bucky on the arm and said, “Let’s finish this conversation another time. I’m sure Princess Shuri has more to show you still?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow and looked to Shuri. There was something more important than this? However, the gleam in her eye, the silent conversation that passed between her and Hank, it was clear he was being left in the dark. “What could be more important than this?”

Shuri grinned, the smile looking like the cat that ate the canary. “The rehab facilities.”

She said, where’d you wanna go? How much you wanna risk? I’m not looking for somebody With some superhuman gifts Some superhero Some fairytale bliss Just something I can turn to Somebody I can kiss

She led him down the hall. Behind them, the facilities were becoming a small glimmer of the possibilities for the future. He still didn’t understand what it was that could be more important than that. Hank McCoy was talking about a future where what he was turned into could maybe lead to something good. So why was she taking him to the rehab facilities? His arm was fine. His head was fine.

They rounded the corner and Bucky saw the far wall was lined with windows. There were curtains on the inside, covering most of the room. The pair approached one of the windows that wasn’t shielded. He peeked inside, frowning when he saw that there were little to no technological advancements inside. There were instruments for stretching, bars for those learning to walk again, various size balls and yoga mats for different stretches that people could then repeat on their own time. Nothing here seemed different from anything he had seen ten years ago.

“What is so important about this room, Shuri? I’d much rather be back with that fur ball. He was talking about -”

“Will you shut up?” She turned to meet his gaze, raising an eyebrow when she noticed the bewildered look on his face. Was he really so unwilling to trust her? Shuri’s gaze shifted to the clock behind him. It read three minutes after the hour. Sighing softly, she looked back to the room and finally let herself get that knowing smile. The back door opened and, without looking away, she took Bucky’s jaw in her hand and turned him to look back in the room. “That is what is so important, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky’s jaw slackened as he took the smallest step forward. He didn’t hear anything else Shuri had to say. He didn’t hear anything about having to put her in cryo or the organ transplants or anything. All he could hear was the pounding of his heart as he saw her. Her in her baggy, faded black sweatpants. Her in her grey tank top. Her with her longer hair and arm being led in various stretches. Her hand holding a weighted ball.

Her hand. Vibranium from the fingers to the elbow.

“Sergeant Barnes?” Shuri watched him, amused. But she didn’t question him. She didn’t ask as he walked towards the door or when they opened with a hiss. No, she knew what Bucky was thinking.

The door opened with the faintest hiss, catching the attention of her and her physical therapist. The ball in her hand fell, landing with a thud as her brow scrunched in confusion. God, he missed that look. He missed her.

“Bucky?”

“Y-You’re…You…” Bucky walked closer. He hesitated for the briefest moments. Maybe she didn’t want him there. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t known. “You’re…” There was a moment of silence where neither knew what to say. His hands flexed. “You weren’t at the funeral.”

She swallowed, blinking away tears as she turned to face him fully. “Shuri wouldn’t let me leave Wakanda. They’re just breaking through mutant genetics and with all the complications I’ve had…She wouldn’t let me risk it.”

“But you…You’re…”

She nodded. “I’m alive.”

Bucky took long strides towards her. The therapist practically threw himself out of the way to avoid being tossed aside. He’d heard stories of their relationship. He knew when to duck. But Bucky barely even saw him, hardly noticed him. No, his gaze bore into hers as she took a couple stumbled steps back. He reached for her, grabbing her hip and keeping her from straying too far back. Instead, he pulled her against him.

She squeaked, her hands bracing against his chest. “Buck -”

“You’re alive.” His voice broke as he pressed his forehead against hers. His nose brushed against hers as he took the time to just breath her in. He kept repeating those two words as if it were a prayer. A tear slipped down his cheek as he blinked once, twice. He was so scared, terrified to even say your name. “You’re alive.”

“I’m ali -” Bucky’s lips pressed against hers, hands cupping her face between metal and flesh. Rough callouses ran against her cheeks as he kissed her. It was rough, overwhelming, and intense. She could barely keep up with him. It was as if he was trying to breath her in, memorizing her in case she vanished between his fingertips. Her smaller hands found his wrists, tracing where his pulse raced. “B-Buck,” she whimpered against his lips, the sound barely escaping as he pulled away.

“Y/N.”

I want something just like this Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo Oh, I want something just like this Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo Doo-doo-doo, doo-doo Oh, I want something just like this

I want something just like this

Bucky sat on the edge of her bed, his fingers playing with the tresses of her hair as she sat between his legs. She had finished physical therapy and now the two only wanted to be around one another. Shut was right. Hank could wait.

His fingers, both metal and flesh, ran through and the scent of lavender hit his nose in gentle waves. It was calming, forcing his shoulders to relax, letting his features ease away years of tension. Instead of thinking about how or why they got to this point, he focused on the french braid he was so intent on giving her. Y/N had been confused when he asked, concerned by the small tone of his voice, but was more than willing to just be with him.

“And there we go,” he murmured, tying off the braid with one of his hair ties. Leaning forward, Bucky rest his chin on top of her head and closed his eyes. He missed this. He missed the little moments and simple days. He missed how wonderful they felt. How wonderful it was to just be with her. After a few more moments of silence, he trailed his hands along her shoulders and asked, “Can I hold you?”

She smiled faintly, shifting to her knees and turning to face him. “I’d love that,” she whispered, brushing his hair out of his face. Pushing his shoulders, she smiled when she noticed how he willingly listened to her. He shifted, moving to the head of the bed and letting her crawl to him. However, when she curled into his side and rest her head on his chest, he knew she wasn’t close enough.

“Let me hold you,” he pleaded, hand tracing her shoulder.

“You are.”

Bucky shook his head and reached for her, shifting and lifting so that she moved on top of him. A hand trailed down to her thigh, easing it across his stomach and shifting her wait so that she straddled him. She looked up, chin resting on his chest as he peered down at her. He continued to trace her thigh with his metal hand. The other trailed to her back and slipped under her shirt. He traced delicately, lightly letting his fingers brush against the scars from that moment all those years ago. She tensed, closing her eyes instinctively as she tried to keep herself from crying. The reaction was so quick, she could barely process it. “Hey,” he murmured, earning her attention. He moved his hand out from under her shirt, lightly running his fingers along her spin and shoulder blades instead. “It’s okay.”

Y/N nodded slowly, biting her lip as she met his gaze. They’d get there. He could see it in her eyes. She repeated what he said as if it would make her whole again. “It’s okay.”

I’ve been reading books of old The legends and the myths The testaments they told The moon and its eclipse And Superman unrolls A suit before he lifts But I’m not the kind of person that it fits

The sound of the shower was what woke him from his light slumber. It had been a week since Bucky first came to Wakanda. A week since he’d first reunited with Y/N. They still had so much to learn again. There was new damage, new scars. She had nightmares, guilt from regrets. They had new trauma. Both of them had to figure each other out once again. But that was okay.

He stared at the ceiling as if he were stuck in a dream. It was terrifying, that feeling. He didn’t want to wake up. He didn’t want this to be a dream. His hair was stuck in a disarray of bedhead as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to will himself awake.

And that was when he heard it.

A thud from the shower caused him to sit up. Bucky couldn’t have moved faster even if he wanted to. He tossed the sheets aside, clad in nothing but boxers as he made his way to the steam filled bathroom. The simple, white shower curtain was the only thing blocking him from Y/N and the sound of her sobs made his heart clench. “Y/N?” Bucky pushed the curtain aside, immediately met by an onslaught of water striking his chest and face. “Y/N…”

He crouched down, noting the streaks of dark red that came from the overwhelmingly hot water. She didn’t seem to care. Her body was curled into the fetal position, her face pointing directly at the ground. Her shoulders shook, her body trembled. “I should’ve been there,” she murmured, finally looking up at him. Her soaked hair was plastered to her skin, red eyes already puffy from how hard she had cried. “I should’ve been there for Thanos. I should’ve been there for the funeral.” Her lip trembled as a sob raked through her body. Bucky’s heart twisted and he immediately crawled into the tub. He took her in his arms and cradled him to her chest. She kept repeating the phrase over and over. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve been…I…”

“Sh…Sh, doll,” he whispered, hand cradling the back of her head. Her body trembled violently. “There was nothing you could’ve done.”

“I should’ve,” she sobbed, the rest mumbled into his shoulder. Her nails clawed at herself, as if she was trying to tear out the bad parts. Bucky took her wrists in his hands, leaning back so that he could look in her eyes.

“Y/N, look at me.” She met his gaze, tears slipping down her cheeks. He didn’t know what to say. There was nothing he could say. They knew that. Instead, he lifted them up. He kept her close, wrapping her legs around his waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck. With his free hand, he adjusted the water, allowing it to cool down some. Bucky refused to let her hurt herself. “It’s okay,” he promised.

Someday those words would be true.

“I’m not an Avenger,” Y/N told him. “I’m not a hero. I’m not -”

“Neither am I,” Bucky reminded her. “Neither am I, doll.”

“Buck…” She choked on another sob. The shower head ran water down her hair, her face. If it weren’t for the fact that they were in the shower, he would’ve thought she was caught in the middle of the rain. “Buck, why are you here?”

“You don’t get it yet?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. Bucky kissed her forehead. “I want you.” He kissed her nose. “I want the damage.” He kissed her cheeks. “I want this.” Looking in her eyes, he stroked her cheek with his thumb as he told her, “I want us.”

I want something just…like…this…

Bucky leaned against the headboard, wet hair pulled into a bun at the base of his neck. He was clad in a pair of sweatpants, his thumbs stroking her outer thighs. Y/N sat in his lap, wet hair only semi dry. She was wearing nothing but a pair of underwear and his baggy jacket. Her breathing had calmed down and even though her eyes were still red and puffy, she didn’t seem nearly as upset as she had been earlier.

Her hands absentmindedly traced the muscles on his chest, earning an amused smirk from him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, shifting her gaze from his chest to his eyes.

Bucky shrugged absentmindedly, tilting his head. “We just…” He sighed. “I think it’s kinda cool that we match.”

Y/N laughed at that, allowing him to take her metal hand in his own. It was weird. The appendages were made of metal and yet they could oh so faintly feel the other. It was as if the nerves still kind of existed for them. And their hands? They still fit. Shuri had gone out of her way to make it feel like they…fit.

Or did that even have anything to do with her?

“You’re weird,” Y/N murmured. “You know that?”

“Maybe, but I’m your weirdo.” Bucky brought her metal hand to him, kissing the wrist. He looked up at her, tracing the back of her hand with his thumb. A part of him wanted to ask what it was like. He knew the process, faintly remembered his own. While he now loved the metal arm, looked t it as a part of him rather than something to loath, he knew getting to that point wasn’t easy.

“Shuri had to try a few different ones because of my powers. I kept frying the joints, accidentally shocking myself, causing hypothermia for the rest of my arm when the metal got to cold…” She trailed off, clearly not wanting to continue talking about it.

He nodded, understanding that it could be difficult. Maybe someday he could learn more. At least he hoped for that. “Will you let me help? With the physical therapy?”

Y/N shrugged. “If you want.”

Bucky smiled. “I do. I want to be there for you, Y/N. As much as you’ll let me.”

Biting her lip, Y/N pulled her hand away and reached for the zipper of the jacket. Slowly, her hand undid the zip as Bucky watched it travel further and further down. When he noticed she started to take it off, he looked back to her face. He knew she wasn’t ready for him to see all her scars. He would understand and respect that.

However, it was a little difficult when he noticed she shrugged it off her shoulders. Clad in nothing but a pair of panties, she held his gaze and brought his flesh hand to the joint where metal met skin. “You can look,” she whispered.

Bucky nodded, shifting slightly. He looked down at her hand and brought it to his shoulder. His hand lightly ran along her arm, tracing the risen scars, the gnarled, twisted parts that hadn’t healed the way they should have. Leaning forward, Bucky pressed gentle kisses along each part where the bone had broken through, going higher and higher until he kissed her shoulder.

Glancing up at her, he noticed the way she was gnawing at her lip and had her eyes squeezed shut. She was nervous, scared that he wouldn’t like this part of her. “Y/N, please,” he murmured. “Look at me.” A moment passed and then another. Y/N opened her eyes and smiled ever so slightly when they met his stormy blues.

His hand ran along her ribcage, barely brushing against the worst of the damage. He leaned back and she did the same. The window allowed the softest bit of sunlight to cast a hue of yellow on the twisted skin. Looking at it made him hurt. If the slice had been a simple cut, it would’ve healed the same. It would’ve been nice and simple, maybe something she would never have to notice. Instead, the bone had shredded her skin. Now that it had healed, traveling from her back to the middle of her ribs, he noticed how it rose and dipped like varying forms of a mountainous skyline. He traced from her back, the small dips and curves to the particularly high spike and low dip as it came to her hip, then how it went just a little higher, curving under her breast. It hadn’t healed properly. Not in the slightest. She would forever carry the reminder of what Thanos had done not only in her memories, but on her body.

Bucky’s thumb ran along the curve under her breast, looking up at her. Tears slipped down her cheeks and she sniffled the slightest bit. “I’m trying not to cry,” she told him, choking on the words.

“I know,” he whispered, nodding. “I understand.” Leaning forward, he wrapped his hand completely around her and pulled her as close as possible. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. All of you.”

A sob raked through her and she shook her head, covering her face in her hands. She wanted to argue, but she knew better. Taking a slow breath, she dropped her hands and leaned forward. Her lips slanted over his in a gentle kiss as she pushed him to lay down. His hand wove in her hair, the other splayed across her back as he kissed her back with every bit of passion she had given him.

Y/N was the first to break the kiss. She trailed light kisses along his neck and shoulder, earning a small sound of content from Bucky as he craned his neck. He relaxed, murmuring something she couldn’t quite understanding. Hands running along his chest, she kissed along his jaw before leaning back. He opened his mouth to argue before pouting like one would expect from a child. Shaking her head, she ran her fingers along his brow and cheek. “I love you,” she breathed, smiling through her tears. “Buck…I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

Where’d you wanna go? How much you wanna risk? I’m not looking for somebody With some superhuman gifts Some superhero Some fairytale bliss Just something I can turn to Somebody I can kiss I want something just like this

“Sergeant Barnes!” Shuri’s voice interrupted them, the static from the intercom earning laughter from the both of them. “Do I need to remind you that Y/N Potts has physical therapy early in the morning?”

Bucky groaned, his head nuzzling the crook of her shoulder as she pulled the sheets over their heads. He placed light kisses along her shoulders and collarbones, earning giggles from her. “Sh, she can hear that,” Bucky whispered in her ear, pressing a finger to her lips.

“Stop,” she hissed as he kissed her cheek.

“Sergeant Barnes!”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky cried out, knowing full well that Shuri was being a little shit and just timing herself. She was lucky with stuff like that. Surely she’d give up soon enough. “Just give it a couple minutes,” he murmured, kissing between her breasts and down her stomach. “She’ll go away.”

“We can hear you,” Shuri’s crackling voice came over the intercom once more.

“Wanna bet?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, nuzzling her stomach with his nose. “Just ignore her.”

“Easy for you to say!” She looked down at his cheshire cat grin, her cheeks flushing when he disappeared between her legs.

“Sergeant Barnes!”

Y/N rolled her eyes, waving her hand. The water from the glass on her nightstand flung itself to the intercom, freezing upon contact. “Goodnight, Shuri!”

Bucky’s laughter echoed in her ears, rumbling against her skin as Y/N finally let herself live again.

Oh, I want something just like this Oh, I want something just like this Oh, I want something… Just like this

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toujoursmiraculous · 5 years

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Ladybug Reaction/Thoughts!

Fair warning, this is a very long post! I absolutely love, love, love that we get to see that flashback of him actually making the lucky charm bracelet, wondering if it’s good enough to give Marinette, actually getting Plagg’s and Nathalie’s opinion. He’s just that worried about making sure it’s good enough for her. Wow I love my sunshine boy. Adrien was literally going to talk about how amazing Marinette is to his father before he cut him off. He was actually starting to do it! Ahhh that makes my heart so happy. “Please father! Marinette deserves to have all her friends there.” Just the fact that he begged him so he could go see her on her special day. sniffs I’m not crying tears of joy! ;~; Oh wow, we never thought about Lila possibly being there in Befana but yikes. “I thought you were supposed to be protecting Adrien from Marinette. The one you said was a bad influence.” Okay, so the disgusting part where Hawk Moth is using this and Marinette to chaos havoc aside, it sounds like Gabriel doesn’t actually believe that Marinette’s a bad influence on Adrien. Which I really appreciate and hope it means something later.

Lila: “Will you keep your promise if I succeed?”

Literally the only reason she gets to model with Adrien at the end. And remember, Adrien can’t refuse to work with her as his father arranged it, so he’s pretty much stuck with this.

Ms. Bustier: “Today someone placed an anonymous note in my mailbox, claiming that you’d stolen the exam answers. And it looks the anonymous person was right.”

Notice even Chloe is just outright shocked?

Yes Alya and Adrien standing up for her! And Rose too. At least at first.

Okay, really, if she fell down that massive flight of stairs, she’d have worse than a injured knee. Just saying. She’d be taken away in an ambulance and instructed not to move in case of neck injuries. C’mon adults, isn’t this a bit suspicious happening at once at this point?

“My daughter is not a thief!”

Just watched Rogercop the other day with a friend, it’s sad and interesting this line is being used again.

Wow. Framed for stealing Lila’s necklace and having it exposed to the entire class. That sucks so much. How embarrassing to have to be in such a situation. Accused of 3 crimes in one day? Psh, overplaying it Lila.

Alix: Angry

Mylene: Disappointed

Alya: Shocked

Sabine: Crying

Adrien: Sad because he knows exactly what’s going on and knows she’s innocent.

“You know I’m innocent, don’t you, Adrien?”

The look of anger on his face as he looks at Lila after she says this. Oh how I love this so much. If this must be done at all, this is what I want to come from it.

You know, it’s really sick. It’s really sick that this sweet boy goes and tells his father about how wonderful his friend is, how her friends love and care about her, and that he cares so much about too, and he uses her, ultimately hurting him, to get what he wants. Adrien’s essentially fueling Hawk Moth without even knowing. How utterly disgusting. My poor baby’s being used in the worst way by his own father.

Chloe protecting Sabrina instead of pushing her in front as a shield to protect herself shows so much character growth, I’m very proud of her.

Verity Queen. Princess Justice.

Does this confirm later their akumatizations? Because oof I’m afraid of Marinette getting akumatized. Especially after she was going to take off her earrings to give to Hawk Moth, had Nathalie not suddenly fallen into a coughing fit!

Okay, I’m going to say this: This today was a good example of why they should know about their identities. Had Adrien known, he would’ve more likely been able to keep her calm enough from being akumatized at all, or if not that, prevent her from giving him the earrings.

I still feel that way right now, the cons of them knowing outweigh the pros, but that is definitely a pro!

Alya being on Marinette’s side, even though it looks bleak and she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to prove her innocence. That’s all I ask is that she believes.

I seriously can’t believe her parents are like, until we find another school for you to go to, you have to work here at the bakery, starting right now.

That’s pretty much believing their daughter was guilty of everything she’s been accused of and that’s so horribly wrong. Okay, she’s not able to go to school right now. That’s out of their control. But you’re going to punish her, too, and prevent her from getting to the bottom of what happened so she’s allowed back at school?

“I want to help you.” “Never at that cost. Never at that cost again.” This just raises the question again at why Emilie wore the Miraculous in the first place, and why she wore it to the point that it put her in the state she’s in now. If Gabriel’s first use of the Butterfly was the Stoneheart episodes, she was using it only on her own. But what is this Miraculous capable of that she was so desperate to use it for, and why was she? Lol @ detective Alya. Too bad the lockers just so happened to be clean right before she got there. :/ True love right there, that Nathalie would very easily give up her life for Gabriel’s (and Adrien’s) happiness. Why can’t she just love someone else? Dx I know she said in Stormy Weather 2 she wonders if she shouldn’t have taken the job, and she’s right. She’s not even allowed to answer her own phone because she’s being punished for something she didn’t even do? Again, wow. “Don’t tell me. We have to go and help your Lady.” I love how Plagg’s annoyed at going to help Ladybug, and Adrien’s response is, “She and I are on the same team, Plagg. We’ll help Marinette.” as if Plagg likes and prefers Marinette over Ladybug. I already figured that, but I like how Adrien was reassuring Plagg he was going to help her. x3 “Chat Noir, I don’t feel so good.” LOL I can’t believe they put this in. XD “There’s something wrong,” HIS VOICE QUIVERED. MY HEART IS NOT OKAY. That’s NOT OKAY. “we’re supposed to be nearly invulnerable.” Wow. So I know that Mayura’s making Sentimonster Ladybug say these things, but two things: One, I feel like this is exactly what Ladybug feels about Chat. “I’ve always gone out of my way to hide my feelings for you.” Bingo! Chat: “I thought you said you loved somebody else?“ Did you guys see that look of shock on Nathalie’s face? Oh gosh. Oh no oh no oh no. Oh no. Oh heck no! Because now, she will give this information to Gabriel, and they’re going to try to figure out who Ladybug does love! And that would be Adrien! asdkjflg this is going to get real. “Your feelings haven’t changed, but mine are growing stronger every day. I can’t keep pretending anymore.” I really do think she’s pretending she doesn’t have any feelings for him, to keep them and everyone else safe. I also get the feeling that some of what Mayura’s saying can be applied to herself and Gabriel too? Okay, Chat was scarily close to having his Miraculous taken. But oh my gosh at Ladybug hurling them apart with that brute force. XD Sentimonster: Listen to your heart! Ladybug: Listen to your brain! Chat wanted to listen to his heart and believe that she really loved him. Oh ugh why must they hurt me so? “OHHH I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU FELL FOR THAT!” Totally laughing, but he wants to believe so much that you love him. :c “I’m sorry, Kitty, but you should have known. I’m nowhere near as perfect as her.” Ouch. “I love you just the way you are, m’lady.” Awwwwww. How could anyone not love these two? Sentimonster Ladybug may in their opinion be perfect, but he’d take imperfect yet authentic Ladybug any day. Sentimonster: gets a massive gun of destruction Ladybug: gets a fork “Okay, you’re definitely the real one!” XD Gabriel: Nooroo, why didn’t you wake me up?! Nooroo: I couldn’t bring myself to, Master, you were sleeping so peacefully! Lol first humor scene with them I think? I like that Ladybug gave the sentimonster her freedom and asked if she could help them. That’s so sad that she got destroyed by Mayura, but her disappearing would’ve been inevitable anyway. Dx Chat just saw some version of Ladybug being taken away from him. Again. And reacts with rage. He’s clearly been traumatized from Desperada and Party Crasher. Whoa dang, Hawk Moth vs Chat Noir. Was not prepared for this. :O “Getting sentimental on a sentimonster?” “You’re the real monster!” “Oh, that. You’ll find out very soon.” Yikes. Chat calling his own dad Grandpa. XD I can’t. I just can’t. Hawk Moth just throwing his own son off a building so cruelly like that. Doesn’t matter that he knows or not, he knows they’re kids. So Ladybug has Mayura in her hands. She could easily have just taken her Miraculous anyway, but there was no way she was going to let her kitty be harmed. “You had Mayura right where you wanted her. I could’ve managed by myself, why’d you do that?!” “Because we’re Ladybug and Chat Noir. Ladybug by itself doesn’t sound half as cool.” “You shouldn’t say things like that to me.” OOF. Then he puckers up, and she puts a finger on his lips and says, “But the real Ladybug’s heart still belongs to someone else.” “Ha, I should have guessed that too.” I love how they’re both smiling throughout the scene. No bad feelings or animosity. And I also love that not once, has she never said “I don’t like you” to Chat. It’s always been “I like someone else.” This really means something! I feel like this episode is really foreshadowing Ladynoir stuff. I also find it sweet and sad they’re both attached to Bugette. xD “Your idea was brilliant, but you don’t need a Miraculous to help me.” she sure doesn’t oh no. What’s she going to do next? “There was something else you needed Mayura for. To find the Guardian.“ “I’m not so sure anymore.” Not sure I like where this is going :/ Wait, his name is Giuseppe? I thought it was Vincent! :O Gotta make a note to change some fanfics later..... “Your papa’s new muse is incredible.” THEY’RE GOING TO BE MODELING A LOT TOGETHER OH NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. DISGUSTING! I can’t believe he’s allowing such a thing! “She’s Italian, just like me!” I have Italian ancestors, why does that matter Giuseppe? She’s a disgrace to all Italians everywhere. Adrien: “Would you mind leaving us alone for a second?” in his normal Adrien voice. As he walks over to the chair, did you hear him grunt out of frustration? Then he just sits down and doesn’t even look at her. Which reminds me of his father. Adrien: “I warned you once already, Lila, but you didn’t listen. You hurt my friend Marinette, and that’s not okay." he says in a deep, angry voice. Yesssss! I’ve wanted this for so long! STAND UP FOR THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE. Also, he warned her not to hurt the people he loves. So he’s pretty much admitting he loves her without saying so. Ahahaha I don’t care if he thinks it’s only as friends, he loves her. x3 “I don’t know how to prove you lied Lila, because you’re good at it. So you’ll have to come up with another lie just as convincing. Only this time it’s going to prove Marinette’s innocent.” “Why would I do that?” “Because we’re friends, aren’t we?” Okay, Angry Adrien’s a bit scary but I’m so here for it! I’ve never heard him sounding so cold. You don’t hurt his Marinette. You harm her, you’ll have him to answer to. Again, really disgusted with Marinette’s parents sympathizing and caring about Lila. My mom would’ve seen past her lies and been on my side the entire time. I just don’t see how parents like hers that have always thought so highly of their daughter and know her so well would buy into this. But I suppose that goes to show the kind of power Lila has over everyone. Also is sad that after all this, Marinette is still nice towards Lila. She’s just too good. “As you said. Things aren’t always as they seem to be at first sight.” Hmmmm well this certainly is going to mean some things later. That disgusted look on Marinette’s face when she saw Lila and Adrien’s photos on TV. XD Like she can’t even believe how things keep turning out with this girl. But the way this episode ended, this was so not the end of all of this. As this was supposed to be the last episode before the 2 season finale episodes, I’d bet that it’ll continue then. If not, beginning of S4. Oh my, are we even ready for this?

#ml #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #ml spoilers #ml season 3 spoilers #ladybug #ladybug spoilers #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #marinette dupain-cheng #chat noir #mayura #hawk moth #gabriel agreste #nathalie sancoeur #thoughts #reaction

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ohblackdiamond · 4 years

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little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 1 of 29)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13 part 14 part 15 part 16 part 17 part 18 part 19 part 20 part 21 part 22 part 23 part 24 part 25 part 26 part 27 part 28 part 29 Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort level, and Gene’s libido, this situation must be rectified. Sexswap fic.

Notes: This has been on the backburner pretty much since the quarantine started. I really wrestled with posting it at all since it’s a weird premise, and most of my fics have a more realistic bent, but I decided that if it perked me up while working remotely, eating ramen, and feeling like I was back in uni in all the worst ways (when was I in uni? why, during the Great Recession!)-- then maybe it’d perk someone else up, too. So here we are.

Gene really didn’t think too much of it at first when Paul vanished just after the tour. He didn’t take it personally, the way Peter did, and he didn’t get too quizzical about it like Ace did. The whole band was burnt-out on each other. The days where they had to share hotel rooms were gone, and the days where they wanted to share vacations were gone, too. Gene couldn’t pinpoint when it had gotten like that, and it made him a little regretful, sure, but it was just another inevitability. The Beatles had made it ten years before imploding, all those hurt egos just smushing together and screwing everything up. KISS had four years under its belt now, and already he could feel things faltering.

So maybe Paul was trying to ease all that via his disappearing act. Spend his tour break at home, probably with a bevy of girls lining up at his front porch, and come back refreshed and ready for another nine-month stretch with only a wall between him and his bandmates, assuming Ace and Peter didn’t tear a hole in it on a drunken whim. It made sense. The first time Paul didn’t return his phone call (the tinny sound of his $400 answering machine the only response), Gene wasn’t concerned. The second time, Gene assumed Paul had gone to a disco, or was spending the night at some chick’s house. The third time, Gene immediately called up Bill, who said he hadn’t heard from Paul, either.

That was cause for concern. Paul could, and did, blow off anybody but their manager. Still, Gene figured he’d give it one more day, and one more lay, before he started to investigate.

That was the plan, until he got his mail late one morning. There was always a fat stack of it. The actual sackfuls of fan mail would end up at some office, where a poor secretary was stuck stuffing envelopes with their pictures and a canned response. Sometimes a real sleuth would find his address, and he’d open those out of sheer novelty, when he had the chance, only to be disappointed when the writer turned out to be a twelve-year-old who’d spent his paper route money on several books of stamps, and mailed the same letter out to every Gene Simmons in the greater New York phone book. Every so often he’d get the good stuff, like a saucy letter from a college girl, with photos and pubic hair taped inside. “See you next time in Sacramento.” He never wrote them back, but he’d put the photos in a separate album from his conquests. Almost a hope chest of photos, there.

Gene thumbed through the newsletters and errant bills so quickly he nearly missed it. A glossy postcard, with Buckingham Palace on the front. It couldn’t have been a piece of fan mail, but he didn’t know anyone who’d bother writing him, either. He flipped it over out of curiosity. Weird.

He recognized the scratchy longhand before he got to the signature. Not that it took long. Thee address was almost lengthier than the postcard message.

“Gene—Do you know anything about curses? Write me back soon. Thanks, Paul.”

He called up Peter about it that afternoon, still baffled. He didn’t really think Peter would have any insight on it—Paul and Peter hadn’t been as close as they used to be, though that went for everyone—but he surprised him.

“I haven’t heard from him. I figured you had.” Peter was chewing gum as he spoke. Gene could hear the smacks through the receiver. “Why the fuck would he send you a postcard? You live closer to him than I do.”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“Talking about curses…” Peter trailed. “Shit, I went over there last week. Didn’t call him up first, just thought I’d go over like I used to. I banged on the door and some chick came out and screamed at me to go away. I told her who I was and she just stared at me.”

“Paul doesn’t pick girls for brains.”

“It was kinda weird, though. Picky bastard usually gets blondes.”

“What, was she a brunette?”

“Yeah, real dark, curly hair—you don’t think he’s shacked up with her, do you? Some New Age type, turning him on to something funny? ’Cause he doesn’t usually want ’em sticking around, either, and I stopped by after lunch…”

Evidently, Peter paid more attention to Paul’s habits with girls than Gene ever had.

“I don’t know. Was she cute?”

“Yeah. She had nice tits.”

Of course she did. Gene rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

“I’m gonna look into this. I’ll let you know if I can’t get in touch with him.”

“Sure.” There was a slight hesitation. “Hey, thanks for calling me. I thought he was pissed at me or some shit. But I guess he’s pissed at everybody.”

Gene privately feared it was worse than that. If Paul had gotten a girlfriend, one serious enough he was ignoring everyone and everything else, even the looming tour, for her sake… well, that didn’t make sense, not unless she’d conned him into something. There were still plenty of cults and communes all over the place, the leftover remnants of disillusioned hippies. They’d join fringe churches or create their own religions and live in tents on the side of the road. He didn’t think Paul would have fallen into something like that, unless the girl had spruced it up with a bunch of psychobabble and talk therapy. Paul dug astrology and self-help, but it wasn’t something he’d trade his lifestyle for. Was it?

“I’ll find out. I’ll see you, Pete.”

He hung up, then dialed his chauffeur. An hour or so later, he was pulling up to Paul’s.

He told the chauffeur not to wait on him. If Paul was at his house, he’d make him drive him back. It turned out they weren’t Paul’s only visitors. Ahead of them, walking up the driveway, was a kid carrying two grocery bags, his bicycle parked in the grass.

Gene didn’t normally have an issue making his presence known. But he held back, curious. He wanted to see who would open the door—that supposed live-in girlfriend, some other chick, or Paul himself. As the chauffeur drove away, he hung back a bit, tucking himself behind a tree at the edge of the front of the house, near the front porch. The kid didn’t seem to notice.

He watched the kid—he was probably about eleven—ring the doorbell with his elbow. After a couple seconds, the door opened, a girl in a blue bathrobe walking out, shutting the door behind her. Gene recognized the bathrobe as one of Paul’s, though she filled it out better than he ever had. She wasn’t even wearing anything beneath it that he could tell, cleavage obvious, the loosely-tied bathrobe hiding none of it. Curly, dark hair—Gene wondered if this was the girlfriend, or bedmate, that Peter had seen earlier. No telling.

“How much was it?” she asked the kid.

“Eight twenty-five.”

“You have the receipt?”

The kid pulled out the receipt. The girl looked at it, nodded, then took a wallet from the pocket of Paul’s bathrobe, tugging out a couple bills.

“Here’s nine. Keep the change.”

“Thanks.” The kid paused. “I thought somebody famous was supposed to live here.”

“You thought wrong.” The girl took the two bags of groceries and turned back towards the door, trying to use her elbow to turn the knob. The kid was already back on his bicycle. As he kicked the stand up, he called back out to her over his shoulder.

“Hey, you gonna need groceries next week, too?”

“I hope not.” She set both bags on the front porch. The kid nodded, waving as he started down the driveway. The girl didn’t wave back, busy opening the door.

Now was Gene’s chance. He stepped out from behind the tree and walked to the front porch as the girl picked up one of the grocery bags again.

“Hey.”

She turned around immediately. Her eyes got big.

“Shit—Gene!”

She recognized him. That didn’t narrow it down. She looked familiar, somehow—she wasn’t a Playmate, Gene always recognized those—maybe a model, or a groupie? But Paul didn’t bring those home. Gene raised a finger to his mouth.

“Shh. Look, I’m here to see Paul. Is he in?”

“Wh—no. No, sorry.” A tense, quick smile. Definitely not a model. Only Ali MacGraw could manage to make it with crooked teeth.

“Can you tell me when he’ll be back?”

“I have no idea. I don’t know where he is.”

“So he just left you over here?”

The girl set the bag down, folding her arms. Something about the mannerism made an eerie feeling prickle down the back of Gene’s spine.

“Are you telling me I can’t be here?”

“No!” Gene pursed his lips. “Look, I don’t care who he’s with. But we’re supposed to go back on tour in a couple weeks and—”

“I know!”

“That’s great. So maybe it might be nice to know where he is beforehand.”

The girl bristled.

“I told you, I have no idea! I just—can’t you leave me alone?”

“You’re living in his house, wearing his bathrobe—that wasn’t even your wallet, was it?”

“Hey!”

Gene scrambled for it. The girl was fairly tall; he probably only had about five or six inches on her, but she wasn’t quick. He grabbed her shoulder with one hand, then jammed his other hand into the bathrobe’s pocket, starting to tug the wallet out. She clenched his arm, nails digging in roughly, not nearly hard enough for him to drop the wallet.

“Stop it! Let go of me, you goddamn idiot!”

She shoved forward, stomping on his foot. Gene couldn’t feel that much of an impact, given the thickness of his boots. He kept a grip on her shoulder as he got the wallet fully in hand, opening it up as she screamed at him.

“You don’t understand, Gene! It’s not what you’re thinking!”

Unsurprisingly, Paul’s driver’s license photo was the first thing staring back at him from the see-through plastic card slot. Eisen, Stanley B. (God, the guy still hadn’t legally gotten his name changed) printed across it. Beyond the license was a handful of credit and business cards, as if Gene really needed to thumb through them for any further confirmation.

“You stole his wallet.”

“I didn’t steal it!”

She had a lisp, Gene noticed out of nowhere.

“Like hell you didn’t. Where is he?”

“I told you, I don’t—”

She jerked back abruptly, digging her nails deeper into his arm. He didn’t let go, but his hand shifted, accidentally yanking the bathrobe down at the shoulder. The girl’s eyes got huge. One of her breasts was exposed, which would’ve been plenty distracting enough, under normal circumstances, but for once, Gene’s eyes went to her bare shoulder first.

More specifically, the rose tattoo on her bare shoulder.

It wasn’t possible. It had to be a coincidence. He only saw the tattoo for a second at best, before she smacked his hand away and yanked the bathrobe back into place, covering her shoulder.

It didn’t prove anything. But in a nice, W.A.S.P.y neighborhood like Paul’s, how many chicks had tattoos? And how many would have one like that, a Lyle Tuttle tattoo, when Lyle’s shop was clear across the country?

She looked pissed-off. Scared, too. Something about the tight, sour way her lips were pressed together seemed weirdly familiar. The way she was acting didn’t add up. She’d called him by his first name on automatic. No deference or starry-eyed behavior. This girl didn’t give a damn about him being a rockstar. Those caustic responses made it come off like—like she really knew him.

That prickly feeling down his spine was only getting worse, even as he tried to dismiss it as impossible. If Gene was right, what he was about to do was incredibly cruel. If he was wrong, he’d just owe Paul Stanley’s latest chick a sincere apology. He wasn’t sure which option was worse.

But he had to know. He let go of the bathrobe and quickly shoved his hand through the girl’s tangled, curly hair, starting just at the temple, lifting it up to fully expose the right side of her face. The abject horror in her dark brown eyes might have been confirmation all on its own, but the damage was already done. He’d already pushed back enough of her hair to see what he’d only ever been told about before.

“Gene, y-you fucking asshole!”

Not an inch past one wispy sideburn was a stub of cartilage where her right ear should have been.

He wasn’t dealing with Paul’s girl of the duration. He was dealing with Paul.

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #paul stanley #gene simmons #gene simmons x paul stanley #ace frehley #peter criss

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shirtlesssammy · 5 years

Text

1x13: Route 666

Then:

Moody Male Modeling Sons of Bitches

Now:

On a lonely stretch of road in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, a man in a sedan is aggressively pursued by a Racist Ghost Truck™. The Racist Ghost Truck™ seems to just disappear and the man continues on his way --until the Racist Ghost Truck™ is RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM.

The Racist Ghost Truck™ chases the man off the road … and disappears.

At the local Gas-n-Sip generic gas station, Sam’s looking at old school paper maps to track their next case when Dean tells him they’re taking a detour to Missouri. He got a call from “an” “old” “friend” that her father was killed.

On the drive, Sam ribs Dean in a most delightful way. He wants to know the nature of this friendship. Her name’s Cassie (OOOO00000OOOOO), they dated for a couple of weeks, and she knows what Sam and Dean do because Dean told her. That boy is so soft. It breaks my fucking heart.

Sam and Dean arrive at the Cape Girardeau newspaper, where Cazzie Cassie and her father’s friend are getting told what they can and cannot put in the paper. Ugh, it seems her father isn’t the only victim to die on that stretch of road.

Cassie turns to find Sam and Dean (and much like a more recent and beloved Cas in season 12) she doesn’t seem to register that Sam is there at all and sighs, “Dean.” Sam’s smirk watching them together says it all.

For Sam Knows™ Science:

This hardcore Destiel stan has a soft spot for Cassie right now.

That night at Cassie’s mom’s house, she fills the brothers in on what’s been happening. Her dad has been seeing the Racist Ghost Truck™; there were tracks leading right to where her father’s car went off the road, and the first person killed was her father’s best friend. Cassie’s skeptical of what Sam and Dean do but she needs their help.

Cassie’s father’s friend is the latest victim. Cassie’s at the scene of the crime arguing with the mayor. She wants the stretch of road closed. She makes it clear that if the victims were white, the road would be closed. (Uh, sadly, yeah.)

Later, at their motel, Sam decides to rib Dean a little more about his relationship with Cassie. MY GOD IS IT FUN. Dean, ofc, wants to drop this nonsense, but Sam, please continue.

The brothers head out to investigate as insurance agents (DEAN, bby, knot your tie just a tad neater plz). They ask some guys about the Racist Ghost Truck™ and surprise, surprise, the black guy’s heard of it. The Racist Ghost Truck™ goes way back to the 1960s it seems.

The boys put it together that they’re dealing with a Racist Ghost Truck™ and Dean agrees to go talk to Cassie. Sam suggests he also talk to her about the “serious unfinished business” between them as well. Dean admits that things were pretty serious with her. Sam just stares.

Dean gets defensive and Sam realizes that Dean loved her. He was in love with Cassie but he dumped her. Dean doesn’t deny a thing. Sam realizes that she dumped him. OUCH. “Get in the car.” Classic Dean “I’m NOT going to talk about it” Winchester. (See 10x05 for further explanation.)

That night, Dean shows up at Cassie’s. They awkwardly talk, plastered to opposing pillars in the living room.

Cassie calls Dean out on his emotional constipation. Dean calls her out on dumping him when he was open with her. AND OMG, Cassie dumped him because she thought he was going to dump her.

CUE MAKE OUT TIME.

CUE MORE THAN MAKE OUT TIME.

CUE ME BEING MAD THAT I’M WATCHING THIS ON NETFLIX AND THE MUSIC IS NOT RIGHT.

(LBR, for narrative symmetry, we’ll need Dean in a similar scene with another “Cas” in season 15 to finish the show, right?)

The mayor is hanging out on the dreaded stretch of road looking at some killer blueprints. He seems pretty pleased with himself and heads to his car. Before he can even get in his car, the Racist Ghost Truck™ runs him off the road.

Post-coital Dean and Cassie are enjoying a moment. (Natasha: what this episode lacks in plot has always been made up for me by these two #soft)

For This is a Rare Scene Science:

Cassie hints they could have a second chance. Dean says that he’s still involved with his “dad’s work.” Interrupting Moose interrupts their peaceful moment.

Dean meets Sam on a suddenly snowy day (shakes fist at Vancouver) to investigate the Mayor’s death. The guy was crushed - as though by a large vehicle - but there were no tracks.

At the newspaper office, Cassie and Dean sip hot beverages together and nestle in front of the warm glow of a cathode ray computer monitor.

Sam calls with property record information. The property where the Mayor died used to belong to someone named Dorian. Dorian went missing in the sixties, around the time of the first string of murders. As soon as the Mayor bought the property, he bulldozed the old house that was on it. Mysteriously.

Dean and Cassie check the news; the first killing happened the day after the Dorian house got flattened.

Cassie gets home and wanders her house pensively, when the lights begin to flicker. Outside the Racist Ghost Truck™ revs its engines. This ghost is just the fucking worst. It terrorizes Cassie, who calls Dean.

Cut to a little while later and a debrief in the living room. Sam asks Cassie’s mom about her husband’s sighting of the truck before he died. She prevaricates but Dean presses her, telling her that Cassie’s life is on the line. HER LIFE, LADY! He can’t date her if she’s dead, okay?

Mrs. Robinson pins Cyrus Dorian as the owner of the truck. But he couldn’t have run anybody over...he died over 40 years ago. Dean, always so quick, catches the error. Dorian was reported missing, not dead.

Cassie’s mom immediately confesses. When they were young, Dorian was jealous of her relationship with her soon-to-be husband Martin. Black men started to “disappear.” (I tell her that her relationship with her husband had nothing to do with this guy being a racist, murdering shit-bag.) When she and Martin got married, they decided to skip the church last minute and elope instead. The church was set on fire that day, killing a bunch of kids. Not too long after that, Dorian attacked Martin and would have killed him, except Martin got the upper hand and killed him instead.

Dean, I love you but you are a fool for this next question: “Why didn’t you call the cops?” Mrs. Robinson schools him with her glare.

Martin and two of his friends put Dorian into the truck and pushed the whole thing into the swamp. When the then-deputy (now the Mayor) discovered their secret, he buried it because he also knew all the murders that Dorian had committed.

Outside, Sam talks to Dean about what EVEN is his life investigating a case like this? They hang a lampshade on the premise of a killer ghost truck, before moving on to talking about how to stop the ghost. They’ll need to dig up Dorian’s body and burn it.

Cassie heads outside. Her mom’s asleep and she is ready to kick some dead racist ass! Dean orders her to stay at home, though, because Dean is NO FUN. They kiss. Sam clears his throat in an obnoxious fashion. Witness Interrupting!Sam coming into his power, friends!

At the Dorian property, Dean drives a bulldozer and they drag the truck out of the swamp. The guys pull out the body, salt and burn it, and call it done. In the distance the ghost truck revs its engine.

Dean recognizes the situation for the perfect opportunity for a drag race that it is, and tells Sam to figure out a way to burn the sopping wet (real) truck. Meanwhile, he’s gonna lead ghost truck on a merry chase through the countryside.

Cue exciting chase music!

It’s not looking good for our Dean, when Sam directs him to a very particular spot he’s found on the map. The truck revs its engines and drives straight for Dean, disappearing into mist as soon as it hits stone barriers on either side of the Impala. It turns out that Sam directed Dean to the old, burnt out church in hopes that the hallowed ground would destroy the spirit. Luckily, Sam’s hunch was right! Job done.

Cassie and Dean bid farewell at the waterfront. Dean wonders if their separation could be a little less permanent and GUYS if I weren’t so invested in Dean/Cas for season 15 then I’d totally go for Dean/Cassie as a surprise comeback. (I like sassy Cassie. Imagine...journalist turned hunter because she KNOWS TOO MUCH.) Cassie’s not feeling it, though, or at least she doesn’t think they can make it work. It’s goodbye for realsies, now. With one last kiss, they part ways.

(Sam doesn’t interrupt! Somebody give him an award.)

They drive off and reflect on the top takeaway of this episode: Cassie’s great. “You meet someone like her,” Sam ponders. “Doesn't it make you wonder if it's worth it? Putting everything else on hold? Doing what we do?” Whoa, it’s almost like this is a central thesis statement of the entire series. Now, add a pinch of “someone who knows the life” and you got yourself a winning recipe!

Dean avoids the question, slipping on sunglasses and settling down for a little shut-eye while Sam drives them to their next case.

_______________________________

Maximum Quoterdrive:

I'm a little skeptical about this...ghost stuff

We'll be working things out when we're ninety

Occasionally I miss boring

_______________________________

#spn recap #spn rewatch #spn 1x13 #route 666 #dean winchester #sam winchester #cassie #supernatural season 1

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