#i just wish i could fit everyone into one chart ugh

[aquamarinescarlet]

Don’t give up just yet

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~3.6k

Warnings: two curse word (I think), brief mentions of sex and cheating, angst (bare in mind these warnings don’t apply the way you think they do, you’ll have to read to understand)

Summary: The classic soulmate AU, sentences written on each other’s wrists, but with a twist.

Author’s note: This was basically an excuse for me to reinvent the soulmate AU with the wrist tattoos thing. It’s sorta angsty, but I just thought the ending was too funny. Just experimenting here, tell me what you think.

PSA: Dividers are the count down till the day: black is reader focused, red is wanda focused, gold/yellow is also reader focused, but I thought it deserved a little spark.

“You should call her, y’know.”

“Why would I do that? She made her point very clear.”

“It’s her wedding day, Y/N,” Mia reasoned, “and this fight was months ago, you have to get over it.”

You rolled your eyes at her insistence. This discussion has been happening every day for the past two weeks.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, why am I the one who should get over it?” You emphasized.

“He is her soulmate, and she is your sister, the least you could do is pretend.”

“Ugh,” you let out a guttural scream, “I can’t do this anymore Mia, I stand by what I said. That man is an asshole and this soulmate thing is stupid. I don’t trust him, no matter what the words on both their wrists say, and I’m not gonna watch her go down with this and not do anything about it.”

Mia didn’t respond, she knew she’d reached your last nerve. You watched as the woman left your office, sending a last sympathetic glance your way before walking into the hall. 

Mia was right in some points, and you knew that. She was right about it being your sister’s wedding day and that you should be there to support her. She was wrong about you needing to be the one to apologize though. The way people manipulated their lives to fit this whole twisted Soulmate Theory made your blood boil.

The Soulmate Theory was quite simple: everyone was born with a sentence written on their wrists, popular belief is that those are the first words your soulmate will say to you. It was cute, and it worked most of the time, not for your sister though. Or at least you thought so.

Oli's soulmate was Isaac. They had met three years ago and eventually started dating. Oli was a firm believer of the Soulmate Theory and had never dated anyone before, so it was all new and exciting.

You started noticing the patterns roughly one year after they started dating. He was controlling her, discreetly, barely noticeable, but it was there. 

First with clothes, Oli had made it a habit to always ask for his opinions on her clothing, and he would tell her he hated something, regardless of her telling him over and over again she had liked it. You made little comments here and there about his actions, mostly jokes but with some truth behind, she didn’t notice.

Second was friends, Isaac would always want to meet Oli’s friends, and if she went out with one he didn’t know he would make her feel guilty. You started giving more serious warnings, pointing out what he was doing more clearly, she didn’t care and called you crazy.

Third was her feelings, he had his mind set on what her role should be in his life. He praised Oli endlessly when she cooked or cleaned. Other than that, he didn’t care, didn’t pay attention to her stories, didn’t appreciate her paintings and drawings… 

It got to the point where she wouldn’t want to paint anymore, when she was telling a story it would be without her usual excitement. Her smile no longer reached her eyes, she was constantly tired. 

You confronted her about it, several times, but it was of no use. You’d point out the facts and she’d retort with ‘he is my soulmate, the universe bound us together, he wouldn’t do this to me!’

Three months ago was the last time you two talked. She told you he asked her hand. She knew you would be against it, she tried to ease you into the idea of her being with Isaac for the rest of her life. You weren’t having any of it. 

After hours of screaming, arguing and loads of tears, she told you not to come to the wedding, and you said you wouldn’t. 

It’s now four days from the date and you’re not going as long as he’s the one she’s marrying.

You stared at the words on your own wrist. ‘It’s you’. That sentence haunted you for years. What a stupid set of words for your soulmate to say.

As a kid you adored the Soulmate Theory, you paid meticulous attention to the first words you’d exchange with anyone, you made new friends nearly every day in hopes of hearing those words, but they never came.

Until they came. At first it was exhilarating, but the ones you said didn’t match the ones on the person’s wrist. You were extremely disappointed. And then you heard them again, and again, and again… It became almost routine. Every single person you met would say ‘it’s you’ or some variation of it. 

You being who you are certainly didn’t help. During college you had started a tech company and now it had grown to be one of the biggest and most important in the field. The new inventions did win you several prizes and a lot of money. You were also stupid famous, being the young brilliant CEO and all. 

Ever since, you gave up on looking for your soulmate. It seemed counter productive to get yourself all worked up just for it not to happen every single day. You made your peace with it, although a small part of you just wanted to meet said person.

The situation with Isaac and Oli helped. Seeing that it could end up hurting you made it easier to not fixate on finding your soulmate. Nonetheless, the desire was there; hidden, pushed to the back of your mind, but still there.

You just wished your sister could see it too, that the Soulmate Theory is not the solution to all her problems. 

“Relax Steve, it’s all taken care of.” 

“What about the flowers? Did you book the buffet? Did you check with the band? And the decorations? I saw some people didn’t RSVP yet, should I redo the seating charts?” Steve rambled on as Wanda just laughed.

“The flower problem is solved, the buffet confirmed, so did the band, the wedding planner is working on the decorations and redoing the whole seating chart seems… unnecessary, they still have three days to confirm their presence.” She reassured the man who was more stressed than her about the whole situation.

“Okay, sorry, I just want to make sure everything is perfect.” He huffed, taking a seat on the couch. 

“It’s going to be perfect, don’t worry.” She couldn’t help the weirdness that surged upon uttering those words.

“How are you so calm?” Wanda just shrugged, not really sure how to answer. 

Steve took a deep breath and gazed at the red head, offering her a smile. 

“I’m going to sleep, all this wedding stuff has been stressing me all day.” 

“Okay,” Steve made his way to his bedroom but she called him before he reached the hallway, “thanks for the help Rogers.” 

“No worries.” He shot a last smile before disappearing. 

Wanda found herself alone in the living room, the silence only making her thoughts scream louder.

She would be married in three days. It seemed unbelievable. After losing her parents, being experimented on at Hydra, fighting along Ultron, losing her brother and becoming an Avenger, she never thought she would have time to fall in love.

Yet, here she is. Although the feeling wasn’t quite what she thought it would be. It wasn’t exciting, or nerve racking. She felt no different than any other day of her life. Steve seemed like the one who was getting married, not her. 

Vision is sweet and caring, she feels so happy around him. Then what is causing all these doubts to haunt her?

She knows what it is, she just doesn’t want to admit it.

Those words. Those stupid words painted forever on her wrist. ‘Don’t do this’. Ever since joining the Avengers she started using several bracelets to hide them, but they still burned on her skin every single day.

She’d heard of the Soulmate Theory at a very young age. Her parents had explained how those were the first words she’d hear from the love of her life. She would spend hours daydreaming all sorts of scenarios in which someone would say those words to her and they’d fall in love.

After her parent’s death, that stopped being her priority. At the Hydra base she’d only see her brother and a couple dozen different Hydra soldiers, too old and mean for a soulmate. 

Gaining powers was a game changer. She was older then. Stronger. They finally allowed her and Pietro to leave the base and create chaos in Hydra’s name. “Do good” in Hydra’s name. She believed she was doing the right thing. She truly did. 

Hearing her first ‘Don’t do this’ made her question everything. It came from a little kid nonetheless. A scared little kid. It must’ve been a mistake, she thought at the time. But that mistake happened, again, and again, and again… 

When she joined the Avengers her eyes were opened to all the pain and terror she had caused. All the people she hurt. Then it dawned on her, what if one of those ‘Don’t do this’ came from her soulmate? What if she had hurt them, or worse, killed them?

The idea terrified her. So she hid those words on her wrist. A reminder of the evil she’s done and the love she’ll never have. She promised herself to never look for her soulmate, she already caused them enough pain, they didn’t deserve to get tangled in the mess that was her life.

And then Vision was created. Him and Wanda got along greatly. He made her happy. They fell in love, or at least that’s what Wanda told herself, that she fell in love with him. It was possible, there’s no rule on the Soulmate Theory that says you can only fall in love with your soulmate. Plus, Vision is not human, so he doesn’t have words written on his wrist, he doesn’t have a predestined soulmate, technically he doesn’t even have an actual soul for this sort of thing. They could be each other’s soulmate. A loophole on this stupid theory.

Why didn’t it feel like that though? Why was she questioning it so much? And why now? Three days before her wedding?

She took off the bracelets and stared at the ink, brushing her fingers lightly over it. She loved Vision, she affirmed to herself. She wants to marry him. This is what she wants. And she believes in these words, for a while. Long enough for her to fall asleep, turning off her brain from overthinking the situation too much.

Work has had you occupied all week. With back to back meetings and loads of paperwork to fill out, you’ve barely had time to think of anything else.

But now it seems like everything is done and you have more free time than you’d like. 

You left the office early, not having much to do there anymore, and, instead of spending all afternoon home alone, you decided to go out for some coffee.

You were sitting on your usual table in the small coffee shop close to your place. It was calm, quiet and homely, a nice contrast between the places you frequent. The warm cup on your hands did nothing to distract you though.

The book you’d brought was long forgotten on the table as you glanced at your phone every few seconds. It’s two days till the wedding and, even though you tried not to think about it, you hoped your sister would text you saying she broke it off. It was unlikely, but wishing she could get some sense knocked into her wouldn’t kill.

You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn’t notice a woman glancing at you until you caught her trying to call your attention.

“It’s you!” She said, astonished, pointing to the cover of a magazine showing a picture of you.

Recognizing that issue as being a rather old one, you just nodded and offered the woman a friendly smile. She took that as an opportunity to approach you.

“Hi. Sorry,” she sounded excited and also nervous for bothering you, “I just wanted to say what an inspiration you are to women all around, to me especially. I’ve been opening my own business and seeing what you do has been such an encouragement to me. So, thank you!” 

You were surprised by how nice she was. You’d expected her to ask you to invest in her business or something, like everyone who approaches you does, but she didn’t and it was a nice change of pace for once.

“What kind of business are you opening?” You asked. Listen to her talk would be a good distraction, plus, you could use the company.

“Oh, no, that’s ok,” she said, “I don’t want to bother you any further.”

“Please,” you urged, “I have the rest of my day off and I could use someone to talk to. Unless you’re busy, then I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.” You laughed to ease the woman’s nerves.

“Sure?” You nodded and gestured to the empty seat across from you. 

She accepted it and you spent at least an hour talking before she had to leave. It was a pleasant conversation, she praised your work but didn’t refrain from giving some interesting criticism on your business. The topic of an investment or a partnership never even came up. 

It got your sister out of your mind for a while, although it didn’t last long.

Laying on your bed, your eyes fought to stay open, your mind swirling with all possible scenarios regarding Oli. She would be miserable if she went through with this, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

You love your sister, you care so much about her, but she refuses to listen to your warnings. You could swallow your pride and go to the wedding. You could try and support her. But that would just make an accomplice to her stupidity and you’re not going to just stand there and pretend that that’s ok.

You thought about texting her, way too many times. But your relationship is already rocky as it is, the least you could do is hope she gets some clarity on her own.

One day till the wedding. She’s 24 hours away from the happiest day of her life. Why is it, then, that Wanda doesn’t feel as happy as she should be. 

She didn’t have to fake a smile, she was happy, but that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

None of the others seemed to notice it. They just thought it was the nervousness of having everything set so the day could run smoothly. Vision even brought up the possibility of her having cold feet about it, but she denied it thoroughly, assuring him she wanted this.

And she does. She wants to get married, have kids and build up a family of her own. She wants it all. 

It still seemed weird though. Like something was off. 

“Steve just called,” Nat interrupted her thoughts, walking back into the room, “everything is set, prepped and organized for tomorrow.”

“Let’s try on the dress then.” Carol urged the girl to put on the piece of clothing for the millionth time.

It did her justice. Slim at the top and flowy at the bottom, accentuating all her curves perfectly. It wasn’t big and puffy but light and delicate. She smiled at her own reflection as the other women crammed around her to take a look.

“You look beautiful.” Pepper said in awe. 

“She does, doesn’t she.” Laura agreed, even though she’s the one that helped her choose it.

Wanda didn’t say anything, just smiling and appreciating her own image, excitement growing on her chest from wearing it in front of everyone the next day.

The girls spent hours planning how they would do her hair and makeup. There were so many ideas, disagreements and arguments that Wanda was completely drained by the end of the day. She was happy though, to see her friends being there for her, eager to help and make sure everything was perfect.

It was nice to have people around since she lost so much throughout the years.

After the women were gone and she found herself alone, Wanda’s thoughts from the beginning of the day came back, hitting her like a train.

Was she really more excited about wearing a dress than about getting married? Was this a sign of her actually getting cold feet? 

She shrugged them away, affirming to herself these are just stupid uncertanties people always get before their wedding day. At least that’s what happens in movies, so nothing to worry about... right?

Thankfully your work slump had subsided as now a gigantic pile of papers sat on your table. Some contracts had to be restructured and a set of stores had to be chosen to distribute your newest technology. 

You thrived in that scenario, with countless reports and 2D drawings of the prototypes scattered about the room. Your mind was going a thousand miles a minute, seemingly unaware of the events that would take place later that day.

That peace, however, was short lived. Your brain short circuited for a second when you checked what had caused your phone to buzz.

Two voicemails. 

From none other than Isaac. 

It was right then that it dawned on you: Oli was marrying that asshole today. In only a couple of hours actually.

Before listening to the messages you started to record your phone screen, maybe he would try to threaten you or something and you could use that to convince Oli to break things off with him. It wouldn’t kill to be precautious.

The first one was sweet, although it almost made you gag, it was sent with good intentions. Isaac was asking you to go easy on Oli, regardless of your feelings towards him, you should be supportive of her and her decisions. Too pretentious for your liking, but sent with good intentions nonetheless.

The second one started awfully weird. Some muffled sounds, things you couldn’t quite make out. Until you heard a loud moan, your eyes going wide as you pushed your phone away from your face. Isn’t it technically ‘bad luck’ to see the bride on the wedding day? You didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts as the voice on the phone started to moan each other’s names. The woman didn’t sound anything like Oli, because it wasn’t Oli. Isaac was cheating on your sister? And on their wedding day!?

Oh you weren’t about to just let that go. You stopped the recording, thanking your intuition, and quickly ringed Oli.

It rang once… twice… three times… and then voicemail. You tried at least four more times until you figured she just didn’t want to talk to you.

“Marie can you come in here please?” You called your secretary.

A few seconds later she popped her head inside your office.

“How can I help?”

“Can I use your phone!?” You sounded more exasperated than you wished.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to call your sister today?” Damn, that woman knows you too well. You sighed loudly.

“Please… I just…” You trailed off, sounding desperate this time around.

Thankfully Marie gave in and lent you her phone. You typed Oli’s number and rang it, several times, she didn’t pick up once. You were starting to get truly desperate now.

“Do you have the address?” You handed Marie her phone back.

“Here.” She handed you a piece of paper from her pocket. 

It was on the other side of the city, at least a one hour drive. You quickly grabbed your coat, purse and phone, rushing out of the office, only being stopped by a hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” You gave her a reassuring smile and a quick nod before making your way to your car. Marie has been working with you since the beginning, she always knew when you were up to nothing good. She also knew that when you set your mind to something, there was no stopping you.

The drive was excruciating. You kept making stupid mistakes and taking wrong turns. Everything seemed to work against you, being it: accidents, red lights, slow drivers, pedestrians. Even the birds chirping around were pissing you off.

You finally reached the venue and stopped the car messily in the front entrance. You quickly ran up the stairs, and almost tripped and fell when you heard the officiant was already performing the ceremony.

You reached the doors and yanked them open, hopefully interrupting the wedding before it was too late.

“Don’t do this!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, nearly breathless. 

The guests all turned towards you, surprised. So did the couple on the podium.

Except those people weren’t Oli and Isaac. You recognized them, Vision and Scarlet Witch, or at least that’s the names they went for on television. You’ve seen them before, doing business with Stark had its perks, but had never been introduced.

You could’ve felt bad, but your stomach was a turmoil of faith and nausea. You were either really early or really late to stop Oli.

“Sorry,” you said, trying to catch your breath, “wrong wedding, carry on.” You turned around to leave, but not before noticing the bride glancing at her own wrist.

You didn’t get the chance to take a single step out the door before her voice filled the silence that had settled.

“It’s you.” You stopped dead on your tracks. Your wrist burning slightly, not the kind of pain to cause discomfort, just enough to be noticeable.

Those words. 

Her looking at her wrist.

Your’s burning now.

You turned back around, earning all kinds of confused glances from the guests. Your eyes fell on the woman, a smirk plastered on your lips.

“Seems like this isn’t the wrong wedding after all.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #mcu #marvel #reader insert #wanda maximoff imagine #soulmate au

[straighttohellbuddy]

how the light gets in {Corpse Husband}

2. you’ve gone way too fast for way too long.

Summary: Supernatural Creatures AU. Them/Them Reader. After the success of your first stream, you find yourself wanting to get back to your YouTube roots, and what better way to do that than with a cover by one of the bands who holds a special place in your heart? And maybe you’re using it to distract yourself from thinking about how coming back to YouTube means coming back to the things - the people - you’d left behind. 

Maybe it’s selfish, but Corpse kind of wishes you hadn’t come back to YouTube; honestly, if anyone else had taken the world by storm, he wouldn’t complain half as much, except it’s you and he’s still mostly convinced that you might be an angel like him... Except better. Because of course you would be a better angel, you’re talented and driven and personable and essentially everything an angel should be, and - bar the talented bit, Corpse at least knows some of his worth - you’re everything he’s pretty sure he’s not. Except it seems like everyone loves you, and he doesn’t exactly have a good enough reason to be bothered by you the way he is, so he has to act like he isn’t. Which is a lot easier said than done, when you barely say a word to him and it feels like all of his suspicions are confirmed. 

A/N: 8471 words. Reader in the fic is stated to be 24. THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH SUPERNATURAL THE TV SERIES. me, trying to walk the line between 3rd person omniscient narrator and trying to make the narration feel like its somewhat coming from the POV character?? it’s more likely than you think! as always, i really appreciate feedback.

{ m a s t e r l i s t }

Taglist: @nanasort @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @theboywhocriedlupin @taikalinna @jaychirps @bingusmode @divine-artemis @realmejay @lovemelikepercy @balla-deer @miniritzcrackers @loraleiix @ppopty @easygoingtheatre @insanedeathwish @siriuslystupid @losvertown @janiathecat @wineandionysus @moonlightsimp @allylyew @chokingonflxwers @sicnesa @xxniksxx @mishisamess @preciousskye @yashinosakura @meleekabenjamin @whatamievendoinghere01 @lxurxn-02 @liljennyx3 @the-fusionist @benjaminka @lilysdaydreams @a-lonely-bic @letsloveimagines @melmachh @tama-chan-suneater @shio-yuki @fairywriter-oracle @easygoingtheatre @pixelbxtch @dreammoutlouddd @abysshaven @mediocrearistophanes @tsukishimawh0re @inkbyajm @jordiee95 @honkcorpse @kaiihaan @takenbyheartstrings @mrtony-stank1 @dangeroustreebread @xibrokensunriseix @corpseglider @artsyally @ellsbells2143 @machine-gun-casie @marvelsmurphy @bigmac-papi @danielle143 @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @starstruckllamapuppy @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @fee-btheweeb @parkerpeanuts @fanfictionenthusiast @evans-dejong @pancakebinnie @minbunbun @sabrinarahaman @thefangirl05 @jades-bullshit @fo-love @roses-and-grasses @thirstyfangirl @lovelysmp @325575 @wrongcielo @lukathecrime @lunariasilver @delicrieux @rebloogggs @kookiesandtae7 @mizxkii @effielumiere @happyyyandcrazyyy @teenageguitarist @prettylittlealiengirl @aroyalharknessblr @kylie-writes-stuff @annshit @haunteddeputymugpersona 

taglist is always open! message me if you’d like to be added xx

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The day after your song drops, it’s on Spotify’s Top 50 Viral playlist, it’s charting on iTunes, it’s splattered across the internet, according to your manager, who sees fit to text you, congratulating you on what she assumed to be a masterful marketing tactic; releasing the song and immediately streaming alongside huge YouTube creators who have a wide and diverse fanbase, all plugging your music. She thinks it was a carefully calculated move, which makes you feel all kinds of scummy, like you were using your new friends. Thankfully, when you fire a somewhat defensive response about how you had no ulterior motive, that all you wanted to do was have fun and make friends, your tone apparently reads loud and clear, as you receive an apology a few moments later. Backtracking, she simply mentions that, even unintentionally, you had great timing, and she’s glad you had a good time, which is better, and you try not to dwell on your initial assumption. Years of your life had been spent worrying that the people you were close to just thought you were using them for views or fame; her words did little to quell that worry, so instead you tried to distract yourself, or at the very least, focus on the good that yesterday had brought about.

The best, of course, was Sykkuno, the hellhound who’d endeared himself to you almost immediately. Something about him makes you feel safe, though perhaps it’s that you’re unused to someone feeling so familiar; you like to think you’re a good judge of character, so for now, you’re trusting in your instincts, trusting in Sykkuno. The next best thing was a tie, between friends and freedom. Yesterday you’d been doing what you wanted to do, not what you thought you should be doing, not what was on brand, or carefully scripted; you were messy, stumbled over your words, and you laughed and deceived your friends as was the aim of the game, it was so freeing to be unfiltered. People kept saying it was nice to see you smile, to hear you laugh again. Huh. Part of you really doesn’t like that you know exactly what they mean, and more importantly, why people are saying that at all. But things are different now, are freer now; your brand was built on you, it’s nice to get back to that.

By mid-morning, you’d been sprawled out on your sofa for almost an hour, glad to be alone, to not have to worry about being seen, as you’ve phased your tail back into reality, and have it holding up your phone as you scroll through Twitter with one hand and fidget idly with the other. More and more you’re seeing supportive comments from people gushing about the few bars you’d sung of 5 Seconds of Summer’s Youngblood on stream yesterday. First your chat had loved it, now it seems the general consensus was that people would love for you to cover more than a few bars. While you tried not to listen too much to what other people wanted, you couldn’t help but admit that it was something you definitely wanted too.    

When you text your manager, new idea already taking hold of your focus, your earlier unsavoury text conversation seemingly forgotten, your manager reminds you that you should be working on your new album, putting together the tracklist for your EP. Ugh. 

It’s not that you didn’t have ideas, quite the opposite; you’re exploding with ideas, brimming, overflowing with them, for songs you wants to write and feelings you can’t express any other way, but the songs and collaborations you’ve already completed, their mp4 files sitting neatly on your desktop, you wanted to save them for the full album, like it was some sort of penance for getting to collaborate, getting to become friends with people you looked up to, people who inspired you. To you, their contribution was worthy of your full album. 

Well, that was part of the reason, the other part was that the songs you had designated for the album had a different vibe to your EP songs; albumtouralbumtour and imposter syndrome had both been written in lockdown, about very specific concerns you were having at the time. The EP was shaping up to capture a very specific moment in time, while the album was so much more than that. You couldn’t put read at five am on the EP, the collaboration you’d done with Troye, a lyrical-lament with a dissonant, upbeat melody, an apology for when you’re the one who cuts off contact with someone you’re close to and don’t know how to say why, and don’t know how to come back; yes, the fact that you and Ethan are talking again means that the song is technically relevant to this period of time, but it’s three years of regret and indirect apology compressed into in three minutes. It’s going on the album. 

But being stuck at home all day for months had made you all nostalgic for your roots, for when you’d started uploading all the way back in 2012, at 16, with no idea what a few videos would lead to. You missed covering songs you loved, the songs other people had written and that you had still connected with, the songs that made you want to write your own. Yes, you loved your own content, obviously, but from idea to video publishing, you knew a low-effort cover would take you maximum a day and a half if you were particularly inspired, which you clearly were. By now, you’d been doing this for so long that you knew the legality of it all like the back of your hand, and were in a stable enough place to be more than happy to pay royalties to the band you’d co-headlined alongside for your first international tour.

“What if I call the boys and ask them?” You decided to just call your manager directly, tail curled securely around your phone where you’d put her on speaker, pottering around your kitchen trying to find something to eat. Alison, on the other end of the line, sighed deeply, having been fielding these sorts of calls from you about once a fortnight since lockdown had started.

“Have you finished moment before impact yet?” She countered, and you wrinkle your nose; its as if she can hear the expression through the phone with the way she continues on, not giving you a moment to cut in, “listen, I won’t tell you what to do, but you need to make a decision about your EP tracklist soon, okay? The label’s breathing down my neck, you know you have more than enough songs for it.”

“Alison, the vibes -”

“The vibes, Y/N, I know,” she sighed deeply, but you could hear the faintest smile in her voice.

“I promise I’m working on my own stuff; I think moment before impact is gonna be a collab, but I’m not sure who with yet, but if it makes you happy, once I record this 5SOS thing, I’ll work on a demo of moment for the EP,” you concede, and you hear her hum in approval, “I promise I have all the songs in my head, I just gotta make sense of which ones are the right ones for now, you know?”

“I really don’t,” you could hear her actually smiling now, so you let yourself relax for a moment, hands braced on your kitchen counter as you looked to your phone, “but I suppose that’s why you’re the musical one and I’m the manager.”

“My favourite manager,” you told her sweetly, and her answering laugh is more of a snort. 

"Call the band, maybe they can work something out for you regarding royalties, if you plan to monetise it," she suggested, and you hummed, "keep me updated, okay? Make sure you're still working on your own stuff though."

"Alison you're a national treasure," you tell her feelingly; you don't even have to see her to know she's rolling her eyes.

But you take her advice, sending 'what if I covered Youngblood and posted it to YT? I'll pay you royalties' to the mostly dormant WhatsApp group you have with 5 Seconds of Summer, despite it being about six in the morning in Australia. Callum sends back a thumbs up almost immediately. Its all the confirmation you need to get started.

As you’re hunting through your house for a pick, turning over cushions, looking through junk drawers, you hear your phone go off, and you take a moment to check, surprised by what you see. A message from Sean. Huh.

[I see you’ve finally decided to join us in the gaming community, took you long enough 😊 If you ever wanna play something, just gimme a yell, you know Id be glad to have ya on my team.]

Considering the fact that it had been three years since you and Sean had properly been in contact, you find the message both surprising, and strangely heartwarming. There were a few people you’d purposefully fallen out of contact with, plagued by your own fears and self doubts. The people who you’d seen in person almost daily were the ones who you’d felt the absence of the most, but Sean, just by his close association with those people, along with a few other international friends, had been regretfully left behind also. Here and now, you can feel just how much you’ve missed him, how guilty you feel for giving in to your own anxieties and the negativity spewed by others. 

But you know you can’t dwell on the past, on your mistakes, all you can do is be grateful for the opportunity to reconnect, and take it.

[ID: A tweet and reply conversation between @yourtwitter and @goldeny/n, followed by a single tweet by @ZeRoyalViking, and a tweet and reply conversation between @yourtwitter, and @5SOS.

@yourtwitter: someone yell at me for doing another cover instead of my original stuff. quarantine got me feeling 17 again. might do the cinnamon challenge next. or finally do that Roast Yourself trend 4 years too late. | @golden_y/n: BRUH YOU BEST NOT BE PULLING OUR LEGS | @golden_y/n: I would empty my bank account to see you roast yourself. | @yourtwitter: Please Don't Do That YouTube Is Free | @golden_y/n: 😳💀💖

@ZeRoyalViking: stream today with some familiar and not so familiar faces!!

@yourtwitter posted an image of Griffin McElroy from the My Brother My Brother & Me TV show. Griffin is a Caucasian man wearing glasses and a blue checked shirt. He is visible from the chest up and is sitting behind a desk with one arm in front of him, with his thumb out, as if counting. The image’s subtitles have been edited, now reading ‘My friends are very much into the following: Bullying me on TikTok.’ | @yourtwitter: @luke5SOS is just mad im gonna sing his song better than him. he doesn’t use twitter anymore so i have the upper hand here. | @5SOS replies with a gif of Jason Momoa, who is incredibly muscular, with dark hair down to his shoulders, a black tank top, and sunglasses on, holding a microphone, standing in a confrontational manner, captioned ‘No, no, no. By all means, speak your mind. You got a problem with my boy?’ | @yourtwitter: HE WENT LIVE UNPROMPTED TO TELL PEOPLE ABOUT HOW I WROTE NOTIMETOSLEEP IN THREE DAYS WITH NO ACTUAL SLEEP, OPENED FOR THEM IN ARIZONA, AND IMMEDIATELY PASSED OUT FOR 16 HOURS AFTER WALKING OFF STAGE | @5SOS: we just miss you tho... and it is kind of funny. | @yourtwitter: the minute im allowed to safely leave lockdown im coming to australia to german supplex the lot of you. ❤️

End ID.]

Corpse’s whole ‘not thinking about you’ plan goes down a lot smoother when you’re not actively stealing his friends- what kind of Angel goes around stealing another person - another Angel’s, no less - friends?! Except, right, he doesn't actually have proof that you're an angel, just a hunch he’s apparently committed to... and, okay, you don't know you're stealing them... Sykkuno and Rae are allowed to have more than one friend. Obviously.

"Honestly, I'm still kind of riding the high from yesterday's stream," Sykkuno’s all kinds of elated in the voice chat, and Rae's quick to chime in, matching his tone, his energy, as she agrees.

"I cannot believe Y/N played with us! I’m sorry you missed it, Corpse, I think you'd love them," Rae is adamant, to which Corpse, from behind the safety of his monitor, makes a face.

"What makes you say that?” Even as he says it, as he tries to keep the negativity from his voice, his nose wrinkles, the expression shifting his eyepatch just a little.

“I don’t know, just something about...” Rae’s voice turns thoughtful as she considers, though Sykkuno takes the chance to pipe up, voice brimming with his trademark sincerity.

“You guys have weirdly similar vibes, like kind of a similar energy?” He tries to explain before a faintly embarrassed laugh escaping him, even with Rae humming in agreement, “not the exact same, obviously, but like, I don’t know, I think you’d really like them.” The problem with having Sykkuno for a friend is that he’s almost always trying to be genuinely kind or helpful. The problem is that Corpse can tell he believes what he’s saying. 

An angelic ability that often goes overlooked, even by angels themselves, is the innate ability to tell whether or not someone’s lying. It’s like a faint buzzing, low grade tinnitus, at the sound of a lie, something that can actually be pretty effectively ignored and forgotten, but right now, the lack of buzzing with Sykkuno’s words is frankly irritating. Not that Corpse can say that, he has no real reason to be jealous of your fast forming friendships with his friends, well, not any reason he can admit to on stream.

"You know what,” Sean muses, finally joining the conversation, “It’s been a while since I properly spoke to them, but I totally get what you mean,” fucking great; of course he agrees, “did anyone invite them to play; would love to have them here if they’re up for it.” 

"I think they're working on a thing today, but I can message and ask?" It’s Sykkuno who speaks up, the barest hesitation in his voice, and to that Rae makes a proud little noise in the back of her throat. 

"You met yesterday on the stream that I organised, and suddenly you're all best buddies? Gonna be honest, I’m a little jealous,” she admits, to which Sykkuno huffs a soft laugh, uncertain of what to say, though Rae’s tone is fond and she continues on, “seriously though, good for you, dude, finally getting the recognition you deserve -"

And on the one hand, yes, Corpse would agree that Sykkuno deserved infinitely more recognition and praise than he currently received, but on the other, the speed at which you two had aparently become close - a day! It had been a day! - sets Corpse’s teeth on edge. It was all he could do to keep quiet as the others chimed in, all their sentiments mirroring Rae’s.

All this frustration and resentment was almost definitely unhealthy, he was more than aware, but something about you had fixed in his mind; if it had been anyone else, anyone less talented or personable or productive, he could have probably handled it, but you...

All he gets is two games worth of peace before Sykkuno announces that he’s gotten a reply. Aparently you’re in the middle of recording a cover. Something about knowing that fills Corpse with discomfort, with envy, like he should be working on his music instead of being here. 

"But they say they're gonna take a break in an hour or say, so they might join us for a few games," Sykkuno’s tone betrayed his bright smile, and suddenly the voice chat was flooded with excitement from almost all in attendance. 

"Wait, really? Just like that, we'll be playing with Y/N?" Leslie sounds disbelievingly hopeful, but thankfully it’s only a few moments until the next game beings. While none of the others had picked up on Corpse’s silence, his chat seemed confused. Purposefully ignoring their questions and comments on the matter, he instead gives a few comments on the game, trying to come off lighter than he was feeling. 

He’s not quite sure what he’s going to do if you join the stream, he’d never actually considered that he might one day talk to you, have to confront the person whose very existence got under his skin, who might very well be the only other person like him on this side of the world. Unsurprisingly, his head’s not in the game.

"Did you get enough sleep last night?” Rae feels the need to ask when whatever response he’d given in a meeting had just come out as an incoherent mumble. Of course he straight up laughs at her question, which is answer enough, and she clicks her tongue disapprovingly, “you’re impossible.”

“Have you drunk any water today -?”

“Sykkuno you’re dead,” Sean interrupts Sykkuno, who had broken one of the main rules of the game simply to question Corpse about his health; he’s far too caring for his own good, but moments like this make for good entertainment, “dead people can’t talk,” Corpse is grateful for all of five seconds before Sean turns on him, reiterating Sykkuno’s question like a traitor; “Corpse, have you drunk water today?” In lieu of a proper response, Corpse groans, playing at being annoyed.

“I say we vote him out because if he is the imposter, we win, and if he isn’t, he has time to go drink a glass of water,” Rae proposes matter-of-factly, which just leaves Corpse spluttering with disbelief.

“That’s fucking stupid; I’m not the imposter, you’re basically throwing the game -” but the votes are already popping up, and unfortunately, for the first time all stream, everyone seems to be in agreement.

“Drink water, Corpse,” Rae, clearly the leader of this mutiny, orders, as Corpse watches his character get flung into lava, and very begrudgingly heeds her words. He takes his sweet time drinking a full glass of water and refilling it to take back with him, intermittently glaring from his kitchen at his computer, despite the game still going on; he’s got several tasks left, if they don’t catch the imposters, they’re doomed, and honestly he doesn’t care. Once the game ends, with the crewmates’ loss, as he’d suspected, they all find themselves back in the lobby. Maybe they’re waiting for him. They can wait longer.

As he settles himself back into his office chair, he pulls on his headphones in time to hear -

“- earlier than I thought because of a whole thing on TikTok and then Twitter, and then my manager texted me telling me-” It’s like he’s turned twenty again at the sound of your voice; you, bright, earnest, rambling to probably Sykkuno or Sean or Rae, probably not even aware of him, but he’s never been more aware of you. Not that he’d ever admit it to anyone, but your second EP, hyperfocus, had been in heavy rotation on his Spotify since he’d discovered it, since he’d listened to the crack in your voice, the exhaustion with which you spoke on i’m going through some stuff when Lofi had just been taking off as a genre. He’s... conflicted, going through an internal crisis while you keep talking, blissfully unaware, “- anyways, I think she’s just worried that I’ll end up threatening to German Supplex Harry Styles, or the late, great, Prince, and I’ll end up cancelled.”

“Y/N,” your name sounds equal parts amused and concerned as Sykkuno says it, with the air of someone who’s been privy to you and your antics far longer than just one day. The response you give is just as bright and cheery as your rambling had been, assuring him that you wouldn’t threaten to German Supplex Prince.

“You sure about that?” Sean was obviously grinning, judging by his fond tone, “sounds like something you’d try -”

“I’ve changed, Jack- Sean- fuck,” your muttered swear undercuts your attempt at earnestness after you correct yourself, clearly not used to calling him by his actual name. To that, Sean gives a fond chuckle, before going right back to ribbing you.

“I’m pretty sure there’s still video evidence of you trying to square up with Mark in person,” Sean points out, to which you grow huffy and defensive, playing up your frustration. 

“Well, that was for a completely reasonable reason!”

“Which was?”

“I thought it would be funny,” tone flipping completely, the words come out so sincere and bright it’s almost tooth rotting; if he didn’t know any better, Corpse would probably find himself being endeared by it, “and it was! Plus,” though here you give pause, and something about the tone of the conversation shifts as you chew on the words you’d almost said without thinking, “it was funny,” you said, softer this time. Sean, sensing the shift, does his best to pick the mood back up, reminding you that both you and Mark lost the competition you’d been taking part in anyways, and asking if you really had changed.

Before you had time to answer, however, Rae spots Corpse’s avatar moving ever so slightly, and immediately jumps on him.

“Corpse! Did you drink water?” She asks. He unmutes so they can all hear his deep, beleaguered sigh. “I can and will bully you into taking care of yourself,” her heart’s in the right place, and it is mostly a bit, so he can’t be too put out by the fact that she cares.

“I can’t believe you all voted me out because of it,” he chooses to respond instead, and Rae’s cackle echoes through the voice call.

“She also was the imposter, so...” Ze trailed off, a little sheepishly, to which Corpse rolled his eyes, not that anyone can see. Of course she was. But he’s not even given a moments before -

“You must be Corpse!” The moment the words leave your lips, every single goddamn nerve in Corpse’s body feels like it’s alight; everything overwhelming, unfamiliar,. white-hot, he’s suddenly desperately trying to keep his various abilities in check, since he really doesn’t want to short out his whole system, end the stream early, and probably cause his building to go into a blackout, just because of whatever this is. The whole world has changed with four words; better and worse and more more than anything. It’s... it’s a confirmation of some kind, and he tries to hold onto that vindictive feeling in his chest. You are familiar, you are something he recognises like no-one else he’s ever met before; you are like him. Is it better or worse now he knows it’s the truth?

“Must I be?” He manages to respond, keeping his voice as level as he’s able, shooting for vaguely amused and trying not to let any of the past few seconds sudden overwhelming panic and triumph bleed into his voice. But the moment you hear him, there’s a sharp gasp; that same something, understanding, recognition he’d felt, you feel it too.

“Y/N, you okay?” Ze had asked, and you made a vaguely muffled noise of unconvincing confirmation. Out of sheer, idle curiosity, Corpse opened a new tab and searched up your YouTube channel where you were streaming.

“Maybe we should have warned ya’,” Sean offers with a light laugh, before lowering his voice, immitating and announcer as best as he could, “warning! Corpse is about to speak!” Which at the very least got Corpse to laugh, though he refused to give anything away as your stream loaded, and the banter continued in his ears.

“Har har,” you muttered sarcastically into the voice chat, right as the stream finished loading, and - you. Well dressed, face in your hands, heels of your palms pressed against your closed eyes; honestly, he doesn’t exactly have any prominent initial thoughts about you, watching you scrunch your face up in your hands, dealing with the same thing he had to, though your face was live to thousands. Beside you, the text chat for your stream was going almost too fast to read, but he managed to follow a few threads of thought here and there.

[an eye thing! they’ve got an eye thing!] [someone @ y/n_creature_spec on twt!!] [who has an eye thing??] [lmao love that they were so shocked hearing corpse that it set off their eye thing] [hello!! vampire here!! we have eye things!!] [u cant be a vampire it’s the middle of the day] [THERE ARE COUNTRIES OTHER THAN AMERICA YOU KNOW] [i am willing to put MONEY on the idea of them being fae of some kind.] [^^yeah they just didnt want us to see their eyes sparkling like an anime character.] [that feels like smthn corpse could bring out in people]

And then you’re blinking back to reality, bringing him from his thoughts as for one terrifying moment, it’s as if his gaze locks with yours. Expression so bright and inviting, despite the way your eyes were watering just a little, you hold eye contact with your camera for a moment before looking at your screen, mumbling something about an eyelash in your eye; Corpse lets out a shaky breath. Chat seems unconvinced, but at least the other streams take you on your word. For a few more moments, he quietly watches you, watches the way your eyes roam your screen as you order your thoughts, and for all that he’s thought of you, he’s never properly looked at you. It’s taken him until now to acknowledge that there was definitely a reason for your success beyond just your talent; certainly you could have become successful from your music alone, but your career certainly wasn’t hindered by the fact that you’re actually quite- suddenly, Corpse is overcome by the sense that he’s intruding, exiting out of the window immediately, even going so far as to push back from his desk, fingers spread wide, braced against the edge, trying not to think too hard about... any of it. If he thought too hard about what it meant to have another angel in LA, he would drive himself mad.

“Well, Corpse, it’s good to meet ya, been told great things,” to him and him alone it’s so clear you’re trying so hard to play it cool, though Corpse couldn’t fault you for that, doing the exact same thing; again, when you speak to him, it’s like his whole being is hit with a rush of warmth; it’s less overwhelming this time, somehow scalding but bearable now.

“I see Sykkuno’s been spreading lies about me,” Corpse fires off instinctually, to which Sykkuno splutters protests at the implication, despite your bright laughter, and Sean’s shout to the contrary.

“Don’t be mean, Corpse, Sykkuno would never lie about you,” Sean is adamant, and Corpse can tell he’s being honest, just as the tell-tale ringing in his ears knows the next words from Sean’s mouth are utter lies; “me on the other hand? Y/N whatever you do, do not listen to Corpse’s music, it’s just the worst.” Before the implication, the reality of what he’s saying sinks in, for just a moment, Corpse feels a rush of affection for Sean, so clearly and earnestly plugging his music, right before your voice re-joins the chat and Corpse remembers exactly who Sean is plugging his music to.

“Fuck you, J- Sean, I do what I want,” while you played along, amused and light, Corpse himself was at a loss for words. You ask him - him specifically, he knows, he knows with absolute certainty you’re asking him - if he’s a musician, and everyone else chimes in before he can even think about finding his voice.

“Don’t search him on Spotify! Don’t do it!” Sean, on the verge of laughter, seems delighted by the turn this conversation has taken as the sound of aggressive typing fills the chat from your end. What the fuck. What the fuck?! No matter his thoughts and opinions about you and your possible supernatural origins, you were still Y/N, literal Grammy winner and Golden Child from the Golden Age of YouTube, playing along as Sean used the world’s worst reverse psychology on you to get you to listen to his music. Oh fuck, this is not how today was meant to go.

“I don’t wanna hold up the game, I’ll listen as I play,” you tell them, almost painfully polite, though Ze agrees to start the next game. If Corpse’s mind wasn’t in the game before, there’s no way in hell it was now.

Three minutes into the first round and he’s failing miserably at card swipe when he chances a look at his chat; people were spamming lyrics from Miss YOU! and Cat Girls Are Ruining My Life! which was sweet but nerve wracking, since he’s pretty sure it means you’ve already listened to one and moved on to the next. If you’re an angel, and you know he’s an angel, what in the hell would you think of his music? Honestly, even if you weren’t an angel, you’re still you, and his music was... well...

When the first meeting is called, and it’s discovered that you’ve been murdered, there’s a strange sense of relief that comes with it, even as he’s being accused of your murder. He’s got a solid alibi, so they end up voting out Sean, and the game continues. Despite the brief reprieve from your possible judgement, his heart still feels as though it’s skittering erratically around his ribcage. 

Rae comes along when he’s doing Simon Says, and shoots his little avatar. The moment he becomes a ghost, he lets out a long breath, giving himself a moment to relax, to collect his thoughts, catching back up with some questions with chat  he hadn’t quite realised he’d been holding, and chances a look at his chat again.

“Of course I’m tense,” he finds himself musing quietly to his chat while the remaining players were arguing over the top of each other in a meeting, “pretty sure most of hyperfocus has been in my Spotify wrapped every year since it was released,” for a few moments, it doesn’t even occur to him what he’s said, or that he’s said it out loud, but when it hits him- oh, oh no, it feels like too much to admit, and he has no idea what to say next, how to backtrack, how to at least pretend like he doesn’t think about you or your music any more than any other person would. However much he may resent certain aspects of it, he still knows he has a reputation to uphold, and panic and denial have never been a part of his reputation.

So he keeps his mouth shut, bites down on the half-hearted excuses and explanations that keep springing to mind, keep pressing against his teeth. He does his tasks quietly, thanks the people donating, and pretend it never happened until the round ends, heart in his throat. He knows, the same way a human survivor in a zombie apocalypse movie knows, that he’s just putting off the inevitable, and that someone’s definitely already clipped it and is probably uploading it to Twitter or Tumblr faster than he could protest.

“Y/N I’m so sorry!” Sean’s the first one to talk when they’re back in the lobby, which leads to your laughter filling the voice chat, telling him it’s okay.

“I didn’t even care, honestly I was just vibing,” the smile in your voice is almost enough to distract from the strained edge to your words, something not quite right, but so faint Corpse isn’t sure if it was really there, and he’s not quite sure anyone else heard it either. Except -

“Y/N?” Sykkuno says your name like it means something that no-one but you and him can decipher, something concerned, almost a question, checking in without being too obvious. 

“Yeah?” There’s that strained tone, just a little more audible this time, before you process who’s talking, how he’d said your name, and - “yeah,” firmer, calmer, a reassurance. 

“Vibing?” And he says it like that was his question all along, like the two of you hadn’t had a full conversation in three words. When the others started asking about what you thought of the music, it’s clear none of them have picked up on the hint of strangeness that had been in your tone, and you deliberate before answering.

“Am I- is it- it’s weird if I quote it, isn’t it -?”

“Jacksepdicy how I whip that!” Sean practically yells into his microphone, cutting you off and somehow making the line sounding even more Irish than he himself did naturally, which startles a laugh from Corpse, “it’s my name in a song, I think about it daily,” he announces, voice oozing pride, and despite the situation and headspace he found himself in, Corpse feels his heart grow warm knowing that even a line like that had brought Sean joy.

“I thought,” you pause for a moment, presumably to double check which song you were about to reference, “I thought Miss YOU was a whole mood,” you admit, the faintest smile in your voice, and something tightens in Corpse’s chest at that.

“You not gonna quote it?” Rae teased.

“Too nervous to follow Sean,” you fired back.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get there one day, Y/N,” Sean laughs fondly, and you all joke around, playing up the bit, while Corpse’s mind is stuck on the fact that you never once addressed him when talking about his music. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, it meant he didn’t have to deal with the sudden, fiery sensation your voice brought with it, so not bothered, persay, if anything he’s glad to know you liked it... But it’s weird that he knows so acutely -

“Hey,” and you don’t even say his name, but there’s that feeling again. Each time it grows less intense, like he’s been inoculated, and no instead of his nerves being ablaze, it’s as if he’s suddenly sitting beside a bonfire, each and every time you speak to him. The others voice their confusion at your sudden vaguness, but Corpse answers without even thinking, because of course he knows.

“Yeah?” 

A few moments pass, while the others carry on amongst themselves for the moment. The two of you sit in this one moment together, neither quite sure how to feel about it.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” you point out, though there was only the barest him of the earlier strangeness in your voice, now overpowered by something that made it almost sound like you were pleased. At this, however, even more confusion arises when the others figure out that Corpse had ‘guessed’ correctly, that you’d been talking to him. But he can’t really hear them, or, well, he finds himself tuning them out, swallowing hard before he pushes to talk.

“Am I not allowed to enjoy the moment?” He asked, trying to ignore the weirdness of it all, keeping his tone light.

“I’m just surprised; it’s your music after all.” 

“You like hearing my voice?” Despite the surprisingly cocky way with which he speaks, he regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, wincing internally. Of all the people he could have said that to...  

“I never said that,” and though your own tone matched his, something teasing, something that could almost be misconstrued as flirty in the right circumstances, he’d heard the faint thread of discomfort, feeling it all too much himself. But your words, and thankfully your tone, was overshadowed by both Sykkuno and Sean jumping in to assure Corpse that they enjoyed hearing his voice.

“If you and Y/N ever collaborated, you know it’d break the internet, right?” Rae interjects, all kinds of smug and knowing, followed by a chorus of approving voices all broke out in unison as the rest of the lobby considered the possibility.

“Rae, you know our Twitter mentions are going to be going off for the next month now, don’t you?” You groaned.

“Maybe it’s a sign!” Rae exclaimed, delighted, before her tone turns teasing and fond, “and besides, aren’t your mentions always going off?”

[ID: The first four posts on Y/N’s Tumblr dashboard.

blueheart-anon hearing y/n and sean interact again after like 3 years unlocked memories like im a fucking sleeper agent. having war flashbacks to 2017′s ‘y/n is septiplier’s kid’ phase. how do i lock the memories up again im going to die of embarrassment why were we like that [tagged: #y/n #y/n y/l/n #jacksepticeye #sean mcloughlin #i WILL NOT add the ship tag i mentioned #blue talks] [7 notes] [▶️🗩↪️🖤]

fangloriousbastard  ↪️fangloriousbastard fangloriousbastard Rae: Y/N & Corpse Collab When? Y/N: 🔪 - fangloriousbastard Y/N IMMEDIATELY MURDERING RAE AND THEN CORPSE I- - fangloriousbastard Y/N MUTTERING THE JACKSEPDICY LYRIC WHILE MURDERING HIM WTF IS HAPPENING?? - fangloriousbastard SYKKUNO NO BBY IM SO WORRIED - fangloriousbastard Y/N IM BEGGING U TO STOP SAYING CORPSE LYRICS BEFORE U KILL UR FRIENDS - fangloriousbastard WAIT WHAT Y/N AND SYKKUNO BOTH VOTING FOR THEMSELVES INSTEAD OF EACH OTHER - fangloriousbastard “ride or die guess im gonna die” y/N PLEASE U MET HIM YESTERDAY - fangloriousbastard y/n’s still listening to corpse’s music we love to see it - fangloriousbastard WAIT NO ZE KILLED SYKKUNO IN FRONT OF THEM AND THEY WON OMG SO MUCH IS HAPPENING DID THESE MOTHERFUCKERS QUOTE AN ACTUAL THE OFFICE MEME AT EACH OTHER - fangloriousbastard Y/N: YOU KILLED MY BOY Ze: you’ve known him A Day! Y/N: you don’t have all the facts Ze: which are? Y/N: I love him. Y/N: Not in a weird, shippy way tho, but like, come on, man, look at him! Sykkuno’s avatar: 🌱                          👁👄👁 Sykkuno irl: 🥰 - fangloriousbastard ahem anyways corpse & y/n collab when? - y/n 🔪❤️ - fangloriousbastard 👁👄👁 - fangloriousbastard aren’t you supposed to be streaming?? [tagged: #HEWWO??? #among us lb #why do i only remember they’re following me when i post outrageously stupid content #btw y/n if u kill sean again i’ll cry] [43 notes] [▶️🗩↪️❤️]

fyahproof-y/n  ↪️ selkiey/n selkiey/n y/n’s explicit ‘i love him but not in a weird shippy way’ is the LOUDEST fandom vague i’ve ever heard in my life [286 notes] [▶️🗩↪️❤️]

crpshsbnd  ↪️ 221b-theres-a-bee crpshsbnd hope corpse is feeling okay he’s been kinda quiet this stream - 221b-theres-a-bee if someone suggested i make music with a grammy award winning artist i might be kind of quiet too - crpshsbnd asjdskldfjkdsf u right, still, hope that’s the reason. [tagged: #how do i always forget they won a grammy #actually i know why i keep forgetting #because every time i remember they won a grammy i remember the video where they jousted corndogs with joe sugg #and the winner had to deepthroat theirs for the camera #and y/n won but felt like an asshole for making joe deepthroat his corndog alone #and they ended up almost throwing up because they went too far with it #so hot #so talented #so very stupid sometimes] [3 notes] [▶️🗩↪️🖤]

Twitter is kind of a hellscape, Corpse decides, scrolling through his notifications as the stream’s winding down, seeing about a thousand different people tagging both you and him, asking for a collab, or seeing fit to show you both every single time one of you had mentioned the other in stream. Or had simply interacted. He’s not quite sure how to feel about hearing you mutter ‘make it rain, leave her wet, like a snowflake’. Unsurprisingly, a considerable few people had thought to clip the interaction where he’d apparently instinctively known you were talking to him, which he thoroughly regrets. There’s enough speculation about him online already, he doesn’t need people cluing into the fact that he might not be entirely human as well.

So now, he’s sitting idle in the lobby of the game as everyone’s thanking each other, discussing when they might get together to stream again; he’s quiet, disconnected from it all even though he knows he’s still live, he can’t help but stare at his phone, frown at your Twitter profile. You’re not following each other. A lot of his friends follow you, are mutuals with you, but you and he are not following each other, and he’s not sure if he’d like to change that. But it would make sense, right? It’s what’s expected.

Your pinned tweet is the single you released yesterday, which he still hasn’t listened to. The cover is cute; you’re - fuck. He refreshes the page. In the few moments since he’d clicked on your profile and now, you’d tweeted, thanking everyone for joining the stream, while you’re still in his ear, alongside everyone else, distinctly not addressing him. Maybe he should DM you, be upfront, ask about what you are, if his suspicions are true.

He hits the back button and goes back to scrolling through his mentions. 

“Hey.” Your voice, soft and earnest despite that warmth that crackles through him; he’s half distracted, hand moving instinctively to push-to-talk, and -

“Yeah?” God fucking damn it. Not again. He’s really gotta stop answering on instinct just because he knows you’re talking to him. He hates that he knows.

“Good to meet you, Corpse,” and there was a strange sincerity in your voice, and he responds in kind, but his heart’s not in it. There’s too much on his mind, too conflicted in his heart to tell the truth; his own words makes his ears ring. He can’t even lie to himself.

So he says his goodbyes, waits for the lobby to clear out and chatters away to his stream about when he might be on next. Upon ending the stream, he immediately opens the latest email from his producer, his latest project glaring back at him from the screen. 

Yes, his various ailments have his body aching, but the interactions he’s had with you are giving him a headache when he thinks too hard about them, and he feels woefully unproductive. Never Satisfied stares back at him, so close to being finished, mocking him. Scowling harder, he listens to what he has so far, making tweaks and notes, glad for the distraction, glad that his producer had as chaotic of a sleep schedule as he did. This was the home stretch; one more all-nighter and it would finally be done.

He texts Heartful that he’s getting to work.

It’s four in the morning when he finally stops for a break, his good eye starting to itch from staring at a screen for so long. With a yawn, he leans forward, out of his chair, groaning as he straightens up to a mostly standing position. Hands braced against the edge of his desk, he lets out a resigned sigh and wills his wings into existence. The weight of them curled up tight against his back, as was customary for them to be when non-corporeal, has him leaning a little further forward. Another yawn and he lets them uncurl, lets them stretch out behind him, knocking over an empty microphone stand as they went. He’d get that later. A grateful groan escapes him, it’s been far too long since he’d even had a half-assed stretch like this, wings helping to stretch all the aching muscles in his back that were simply impossible to stretch otherwise, no matter how much he’d twist. Even so, his studio wasn’t big enough to properly stretch them, and he really didn’t feel like laying on his living room floor right now; he’s kind of concerned he’d just fall asleep there. Instead, he kicks his chair to the side and hits shuffle on one of his Spotify playlists, doing what he can for himself in the limited space, and finally going to forage through his cupboards for something resembling a meal. Maybe drink water, Rae’s damn voice in his head.

At least with his wings around he didn’t need to bother turning on any lights; he’s gotta find joy in the little things.

Today, or well, the past twenty-four hours, was a series of cruel jokes, he decides, all leading to the moment he curls up his wings and sits back down at his desk. The moment he puts his headphones back on, he’s greeted by your voice, and he almost jumps a foot in the air, concerned that you’d called him.

"- who I became, dreading when the music stops, what if I just fade away?” In the split second he’s realised that it was just a song, just your voice, crooning, gentle and sad against a soft beat and the sound of rain, as i’m going through some stuff playing in his ears, it’s too late. Already his aura had gone off, and his computer cuts out, as his monitor cuts to darkness, so suddenly all he can see is his own, exhausted reflection in the monitor, backlit by his own wings... Not exactly flattering. 

Thankfully, it was only his computer that was affected, as he can still hear his refrigerator humming in the other room, so he wedges himself beneath his desk to reset the breaker for the power board that his whole system was connected to, grumbling to himself the whole time. 

If he was being honest, however, he was glad he didn’t have to hear more than a few seconds of your song. For a long time it had been one of his favourites, though at this point he’d rather die than admit that. Yes, it’s a good song, but it’s the last thing he needs to hear right now. If he listened to you voice half the fears he still tried to ignore, well right now it may kill him, and he was so close to being finished with Never Satisfied. So close.

Instead, he gives himself the moment in which his system is rebooting to scroll through Twitter and Instagram on his phone, checking his mentions for good fanart to appreciate, only to stumble across one of your stan accounts tagging both you and him in a clip that he hadn’t seen earlier. He’s not sure what possesses him to click it.

“Don’t follow me baby, swear I’m going to hell,” Corpse’s own words leave your lips as you’re focused on the game, on being imposter, leading Sykkuno into electrical to fix lights, and something about it sounds wrong and he can’t quite put his finger on it. He’d heard other lines of his leave your mouth, clips from the stream he’d been tagged in, and it always manages to surprise him. When you sing his songs, even just a little bit, something in the back of his mind, something that had appreciated you as an artist all this time, it’s grateful, it’s excited, it’s overwhelmed. He wouldn’t deny that part of himself, he couldn’t, it didn’t feel right, but upon hearing this line, that grateful part was overshadowed by a visceral bitterness.

The line had been a moment of self deprecation, the only Angel he knew of who, granted it was by some of his own choices, was almost certainly going to Hell, if you believe in that sort of thing of course. But you? Every single part of you seemed to be the exact antithesis to him; you’re what an Angel should be, and him? Well, the line said it all really. It’s just... it feels like you’re mocking him at every turn now that he knows, or well, strongly suspects. With evidence. Which you’re probably not; if you’re an Angel, you wouldn’t go out of your way to mock another angel, so now he’s all in his head, frustrated at himself for being frustrated at you for just... liking his song? 

He really should message you about earlier, clear things up, get out of his own mind and stop jumping to conclusions. Finding another angel was big, no matter his personal reservations, he should try and take this opportunity, right? Except that you hadn’t reached out to him either.

Damn it; he knows he needs to stop thinking about you and focus on his own shit. He turns off his phone and gently tosses it to the floor, out of sight out of mind. 

Maybe he’ll feel better when he finishes his song, feel more productive, feel... complete for just a few moments. Maybe he’d stop comparing himself to you. Maybe.

[ID: Two tweets, one from @sp00kybihh, and one from @yourtwitter, followed by a retweet and reply conversation between @ashton5sos, @yourtwitter, and @y/nirwin.

@sp00kybihh: why did y/n’s smile every time corpse just knew they were talking to him without them having to say anythign make me feel things?? u no we love day 1 ride-or-die y/nkunno, but corpse & y/n just seem to get each other wtf 🥺🥺

@yourtwitter: australians are asleep post forbidden youngblood cover

(Thumbnail of Y/N sitting in front of the camera, dressed casually, visible from the chest up. There is a black microphone on a stand in front of them that they’re holding. Their mouth is open, as if halfway through singing, their eyes are closed, their background is a simple, white wall. Above Y/N, in black, VCR font, is the word ‘youngblood’. There is a large play button in blue and white in the middle of the thumbnail, to indicate that it is a link to a video.

Link: youngblood - 5 seconds of summer | y/n y/l/n cover i miss my boys. i miss people. thank you 5sos for being cool about me covering this <3</i> twitter: @yourtwitter 🔗youtube.com)

@ashton5sos retweeted the link and commented: Y/N you said it was gonna be low effort, this is killer! All it’s missing is some drums. Reminds me, I’m still sad we never got to record that thing we wrote in New York. | @yourtwitter: ASHTON IT IS 8AM I HAVE HAD NO SLEEP AND WAS NOT EXPECTING SUCH A QUICK RESPONSE I WOULD DIE FOR YOU | @yourtwitter: also lmfao i forgot about that ny thing that was good, from what i remember. do u still have that recording of us?? i may or may not have forgotten everything about that night apart from it being a blast #bringbacknewyork | @ashton5sos: Calum has it but also its 2am and he’s asleep, which you should also do. You know the boys are gonna love this... #bringbacknewyork | @y/nirwin: thank u both i have decided to pass away effective immediately #bringbacknewyork

End ID.]

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse husband imagine #corpse imagine #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #sykkuno #jacksepticeye #valkyrae #how the light gets in #shut ur pretty mouth #cyltlanp

[hedgefairy]

Okay, I know, I know, it's already old news, everybody and their uncle in the costuming community has already talked it over, but anyhoo, I made notes when I crawled my way through effing Bridgerton and I will be damned if I don't vomit them onto this site. I have 32 pages of this shit, I'm not gonna throw that away.

I'm also typing this on my phone because I'm stuck on a trainride that's just doubled in length because this is the 2021 Northern German snow storm. What, there's snowflakes on the rails? We cannot possibly keep up our schedule, say goodbye to 90% of the connections.

Okay, on to Bridgerton, Episode 1

We're in Britain (oh, London, okay), allegedly 1813. I see people who are clearly meant to be asympatico, but is this size incusivity I spot there? Daring! Gasp! Me li...

Oh wait, no. The character is promptly shamed for her figure (which is mostly caused by the horrible cut of her dress. Every size can look great in Regency garb, but never mind, we need to make the "fat one" look bad!).

Also, no shifts under the stays. Why. There was obviously enough budget, don't tell me you couldn't afford a few strappy tops - it's not like the rest is historically accurate, so it would have sufficed to send some poor underpaid intern to H&M and get some. Nvm, that wouldn't be sexay.

Wait, is the garishly dressed (always a sign of a character of bad character in a costume drama) woman Delphine from Selfridge? Does she always have to play bitches? That's not nice, and just because she has a recognisable face, which by modern (read: americanised) standards is not favourable enough. Ugh. But I like the actress, so I'll let it slide (for now).

Lol, buttocks.

Not sure about the girls' dresses. Also, the Queen is a WOC, cool!

Oh no, one of the Featherington sisters faints! But that's okay because the Featheringtons are just comic relief and foil anyway.

I get weird incest vibes from the Bridgertons.

So the court is clearly 18th century and the show is set in the 1810s. I've by now seen several explanations for this decision, I still think it robs the Queen of reproductions of her actual historical gowns which were heavily inspired by the 18th century but so. Magnificently. Weird. It would have been so neat, and more of a "hey, I'm kinda out of touch with things" vibe, but hey, I'm not the one getting paid for making those taffeta gowns here (her hair is glorious, tho).

I'm very into the intro.

That Regency gossip girl is a real b, not unlike the Dowager Countess of Downton (unpopular opinion, I think she's pretty overrated, yes, I like Maggie Smith).

Again, no shifts.

Where do I know the "pragmatic" Bridgerton sister from? Ah, it's The Paradise. And Jonathan Strange. (Wait, she's my age. And she's supposed to be a teenager. Man, do I love a good Dawson casting. I like the actress, though, she has a face ™!).

Aaaah. We get it. She's the spirited one. She also doesn't care about dresses because she's not like other girls™. I really like her voice (but she still doesn't sound like a teenager).

The heck is up with Lady F's dress and that of her friend? Oh, yeah. Antagonist fashion.

Of course the Featheringtons are Horrid Hags™ aside from Penny who's nice, but the pudgy one (at least we don't get a case of "she's not conventionally attractive so she's bad").

Oooh, the cousin! Supposed to suck, but ofc she's a stunner, and only Penny (who's the nice one, remember!) is delighted to have her around. She's also a POC, which is nice but apparently that means she does not follow fashion, hair-wise. I would have loved to see some Regency hair on her, it would have been so pretty *cries in Greek updo*

Ugh, we're still in Ep. 1, typing this on my phone was a bad idea.

Lady Danbury and the Duke guy are delightful with each other (more POC! So neat!).

The girl the oldest Bridgerbro screws is apparently a singer, which isn't up to status for his doucheship, and she doesn't wear a shift.

The music at the ball sounds like something from the Top 40s, but I'm woefully ignorant of contemporary music charts so I can't tell what it is. I like it when they do that in historical-ish works, making well-known pop or rock stuff work for the ambience (ugh, that dance scene to Golden Years in Knight's Tale. My heart. In a good way.)

I dig the Ducktail hair of Penny's crush. Oh, wait, that's a Bridgerbro. I don't quite get why the hair trends of the time don't apply to the POC characters or extras, but seeing how most white characters also show a shameful disregard for the weirdnes and gloriosity (that's not a word) that is early 1800s hair (the 1830s take the cake, tho) despite those hairdos being basically designed for white people hair, I don't think I care much (well, I do, but about all of them). Overall the hair is horrid and not very 1810s. Let's just leave it at that.

Like a good old romance novel (I've since been told that Bridgerton is supposed to be a pastiche of such novels, but I really couldn't tell from the series, not at all, and I'm not inclined to read the books) we have

a pretty, kind, superpure daughter of the main family

the mean matriarch (could have been an aunt, too, but here she's the mum) of the rivalling or antagonist family

a spirited daughter of the main family (in most romance novels this would be our heroine but so far she refreshingly lacks a love interest and pretty daughter seems to get the most screen time)

a Horrid Suitor™

a Hot Suitor™ who doesn't want attention

a really good and doting good parent

Lol, misheard Greece for Grease with Ducktail Bridgerbro, whose name is Colin, apparently. This is funny because of his Danny Zuko memorial hair.

Overall a bit too much bling for my taste, and too few pearls. It looks like an episode of My Super Sweet Sixteen with a Regency theme.

Of course the romance is going to be the Pretty One aka. Daphne and the Duke and he's even bros with her eldest bro. Wait, are they exes? I can haz bi? No? Aww, shucks. Maybe in another episode (spoiler: no).

Okay, WHAT is it with Lady F's dresses and hair. Like, she reminds me of Mars Attacks. Which, as you might remember, was not set in the Regency period.

Lord B (Bridgerbro the Eldest) sucks, he's screwing Opera Girl without any intention of marrying her but he's bitchy about his sister being ogled by his Eton (or wherever) bestie?

Oh, I'm in Hamburg now. And my train back home got canceled, so back to Berlin it is because there's not a single option to get to Hanover tonight, at least that's what the lady from the train station is saying, "oh well, you'll have to go back and try again tomorrow", so that's awesome...

Honestly, if it weren't so late and I didn't have things to do at home I'd find this terribly exciting.

Back to Bridgerton!

Where were we? Ah.

I can't even read my own annotation. Something about George III. I think I was upset about how they totally ignored that it's called Regency because George IV acted as the regent king, and he doesn't even feature in the series, I guess because they wanted to play up the Queen? Not a fan, because thanks to Horrible Histories I'm quite fond of that guy.

Again, no shifts.

Oh, look, it's Horrid Suitor™, destined for leftovers.

The Featherington cousin gets all the attention but no fleshed-out character.

Penny Featherington's dog is named Lord Byron, which ❤️

I like the Duke! He's there, drinking in his club (even though they're a patriarchal remnant of the past I have a weird appreciation for stuffy Gentlemen's Clubs, I blame Bertie Wooster and the Drones), calling Lord B out for his general fuckery.

Oh no, Ducktail Colin is more into the Cousin than Penny, who obviously pines for him!

Thank you, Lord B, for enabling Horrid Suitor™. Nobody asked you to be such a fucktwit.

The Queen is, of course, a bit of a bitch, but patronage from cool Lady *scrolls up for name* Danbury ensues for Protagonist Girl™ Daphne.

"I wish they had found a better trend language", what the heck did I even mean by that? That's what you get for just scribbling down notes while watching and simultaneously sewing. 18th century pants, in case you wanted to know.

Cousin is angry, probably because Lady F behaves like Cinderella's evil stepmother, because Cousin is prettier than her daughters and gets, like, all the suitors because Lord B bitched away everyone who wanted to get into Daphne's dowry ifyouknowwhatImeanwinkwinknudgenudge, right across the street into Cousins parlour.

The Bridgertons are annoyingly perfect. Ugh.

Oh look, it's "banter" between Daphne and Dukey! It's so Pride & Prejudice! It's almost a tiny bit Shakespeare! I put banter in parentheses because wow, nope, I'm not getting any chemistry here.

Uh, Lady B calls out Lord B (aka. her son aka. Bridgerbro the Eldest) for his screwery with Opera Girl and his outpimpery of his sister to Horrid Suitor™, buuuurrrrrnnn. He promptly calls of his affair with Opera Girl.

No shifts!

Penny gets to dance with Ducktail Colin at the thing! Good for her, but it's a country dance with jumping and fun, because she's a) the pudgy character and b) a Featherington, so it can't be something romantic and pretty (I personally like country dances, but they aren't protagonist dances).

Oooh, Cousin had her period, oh no, oh snap, oh she didn't, because she's PREGNANT! Shit, that's problematic, and not because she's an unmarried woman in the 1810s, but because she gets close to no lines at all so far, and suddenly she's pregnant and telling Lady F that she sucks for being privileged, violence ensues, this is ugly. Man, I get what some critics mean by "the POC actors*actresses get all the problems" and that not exactly being great.

Horrid Suitor™ makes property claims about Daphne, eeewwwww, thanks to Lord B's general suckiness, ewww, r@pe attempt ensues, was that really necessary? It doesn't really fit in with the rest of the series and generally nope, yay, broken nose! (which was indeed totally necessary). Nice one, and probably the only scene so far (spoiler: overall) in which I actually like Daphne. Dukey thinks a mean left hook is attractive, and, generally speaking, he's not wrong.

Daphne and Dukey come up with a pseudo-shakespearean plot to pretend to be totally into each other so she can attract suitors by being not available and he gets not to have fangirls by being not available, and as someone who has read a few too many historical-ish bodice rippers I know exactly where this is going. I mean, come on.

I can't see enough of the following choreography to complain about it. Man, I miss historical dance classes.

And that concludes Ep. 1! Finally! Thank you for getting this far, sorry for all of it (especially typos, it's the bane of unwanted autocorrect), I guess?

Update on the train situation: I've been told by the ticket control person that I shouldn't get my hopes up until noon tomorrow.

To be continued,

because I didn't take these 32 pages of notes for nothing.

#Bridgerton #Hedgewatch #historical costuming #Well not really because wow these costumes #Thank you for travelling with Deutsche Bahn #2021 norther Germany snow storm #Trainwriting #Snarky commentary #I wish I was better at captions but it's late and I've been wearing a mask for four hours straight now and I'm hungry #Bridgerbore

[flying-elliska]

S5 Review pt.1 : the Good

Arthur season is over, time to analyze it as a finished story ! This meta in 3 parts will go over the good, the bad and the mindboggling. My general impression of the season : excellent beginning, very meh middle, interesting ending. In short :  flawed but I feel people calling it a total disaster really are not making any effort to see it objectively. So ; let's dig into the why and how.

What I liked about this season :

A story made with and for Deaf people : It’s pretty evident when watching the interviews that Winona and Lucas really really enjoyed making the season and that it offered them an unprecedented level of representation. The creators obviously did their research, working with the people of the IVT. Personally I feel like I learned so much and the clips showing aspects of Deaf culture were among my favorites. It felt like a nuanced, rich, in-depth perspective, with details like choosing to get a cochlear implant or not, the testimony evening, the sign language class, Noee’s sign dance, the different ways to enjoy music, how to speak to someone who is Deaf, etc...showing that not everyone within that community has the same story or opinion, that they’re just people with their unique challenges but shared needs, as well as the really awesome culture that is part of being Deaf. It felt really respectful and a thousand miles away from the usual miserabilistic clichés - it brought up some concern about how difficult it is to be rejected/invisible in today’s society, but it was balanced with emotions like curiosity, admiration, and awe. I came to SKAM for the representation but I absolutely love getting educated about groups I’m not part of and I feel this is truly where the season shines. Learning from Deaf fans was also hella interesting. 

A complex discussion about disability : A central plot point, and one of my favorites, was Arthur learning to overcome his (now internalized) ableism. We see that Arthur is an overachiever and this change in his life upsets this idea of the perfect life he has in mind. He repeadedly lashes out at the other Deaf people he meets, makes fun of sign language, underlines how he is ‘not like them’ at the beginning because he is still clinging to his own self image. We can understand where this comes from when we see how condescending towards any sort of weakness, and focused on performance over empathy his father is. But as he learns to meet actual Deaf people and see the diversity and beauty of the community, he learns there is no shame in that sort of difference and learns to stand up for himself and that was amazing to see. Another important part was Laura and Melchior’s inclusion and beyond being very funny, they highlighted the idea that although disabled people have different, sometimes competing needs, they also have things in common, and that deep wish of not being discounted/othered/excluded. All the disabled characters this season were complex, real people, not there just to teach others a lesson or inspire them or be pitied or the butt of a joke, and that is so sadly rare nowadays. Even though some bits did feel a bit like a PSA, I feel like overall it was very well done. 

The politics of desirability : A theme running through the season is the idea that who we are attracted to is socially constructed and can really be biased by our prejudices. Alexia expressed this idea (albeit clumsily) in the bar scene early on, and this came back when she talked about her insecurities. This was also present in Laura’s insistence that disabled people have certain needs like everybody else. And finally, it’s present in Arthur’s own struggles - his fear of not being able to sleep with his girlfriend with his hearing aids, and his own difficulties in seeing what is happening with Noee and him saying ‘she’s deaf’ to the question ‘is she beautiful’ even as he is obviously into her. Our society gives us this incredibly narrow set of criteria for who is considered attractive - thin, white, able bodied, etc - but people’s actual real patterns of attraction and finding beauty are, when you set those prejudices aside, and see the beauty of people for who they are and not how well they fit a box, so much more broad and generous and diverse and I loved how this season highlighted that. 

Technical excellence : God, the cinematography this season was absolutely off the charts, it makes me wish they could redo previous seasons with this amount of style. Shots like Arthur under the shower, or that party at the Asso with the blurry dancing, the shots in the pool, or the ones from the farm episode...INCREDIBLE. The sound editing was used sooooo well to put us in Arthur’s shoes, it was a wonder and I really felt how intense the change must have been for him because of that. And the acting is impeccable. You can really feel how well these actors know their characters by now, they have total mastery of their portrayal. Robin did an awesome job with tough scenes, but just...everyone was on their best game really. 

A nuanced portrayal of abuse : Arthur’s relationship with his father was thouroughly heartbreaking, and it felt very real. I am very grateful that they didn’t try to redeem him - it’s important to show that even if you are trying your best, some people are toxic abusers and the best thing you can do is take your distance. I felt it right away, in the subtle way he was dismissing and belittling his wife and son, in the ways he was asserting his control over them, and I wasn’t surprised at all when more came out. It surprised me in the beginning that so many people were arguing that the father was caring, just strict - I feel like the signs were so obvious but I guess that’s the point. Abuse is a pattern that becomes visible over time and abusers can be perfectly charming and reasonable to people who don’t know what it’s like. Growing up with that is isolating and terrifying and it does awful things to your self esteem and your capacity to be in tune with your feelings. We can see that when Arthur basically defends his father’s actions because he is still so eager to have his love and placate him. Arthur’s behavior did not come from nowhere and it was inspiring to see him grow past that and realize he did not have to perpetuate the pattern and make his own choices. Also, his relationship with his mom was very sweet, supportive (her smoking weed with him was awesome) but complex - the way he was mean to her sometimes, condescending bc of her lack of studies ; the way she blamed herself for not seeing sooner - she must have been subjected to Patrick’s more emotional abuse, and so she will probably feel like she should have reacted sooner or known and that’s like...painful ugh. This whole thing was so raw and real. And it was incredibly important to see the nurse and her Jerome - adults, with medical knowledge - see Arthur’s situation and tell him that sometimes you just have to leave. 

Highs and lows of friendship : Basile !!!! I was not a fan in s3 but the great aspect of POV shift is allowing us to see some characters through a different angle - even though I think Basile went through a lot of growth too. In Lucas’s season he was meant to be the annoying gross overly straight guy as a contrast - but for Arthur he is this devoted friend that is so open and sincere in his affection that his awkwardness comes off as endearing instead. You really understand why those two are friends : Arthur is smart, sarcastic, he can help Basile with social awareness and hype him up, but he’s also so painfully guarded and finds it hard to express emotion, I think, and it makes sense he loves Basile’s spontaneity and big heart. Meeting his grandfather was also so funny and endearing, as were all the marks of more physical affection he wasn’t afraid to show Arthur. I think having a friend like that is part of what allows Arthur to finally stand up on his own - whether against his father or deciding he needs to be single to figure himself out. As for the Gang in general, I loved the moments where they were all happy together (the early graffiti clip is truly one of the shining moments of the season for me) but their later spat is also quite understandable to me. I find it very realistic that although they are trying their best to accomodate their new friend’s disability, they’re going to mess up, that’s part of the process. The most important thing, I think, when faced with someone who is different from you, is to engage with it (respectfully) - ask questions, not assume. And communicate ffs.  I also really liked those moments where the Crew and Gang came together, it gave this big end of high school vibe where all the squads merge and there is this feeling of having gone through an ordeal together that makes everyone closer.  There were also so many funny moments  that were absolute gold (the wheelbarrow ! the dinosaur balloons ! Imane getting attacked by chickens ! Emma and her horse! ).

Arthur on his own : I liked the more introspective moments we got this season. The successive alarms while he was angsting about his hearing coming back were such a clever way to put us in his perspective - there is already a lot of stress linked to a morning alarm, isn’t there ? We all know that moment in the morning where we don’t want to get out of bed and face the world, and taking that emotion and adding Arthur’s absolute stress at realizing that this change is lasting, it was really effective. Arthur’s link to water, as a symbol of another world where sound is much more diffuse, is quite interesting too. And the moment in last episode where he puts his glasses back on, too, as a more obvious sign of a disability that is very socially accepted and that is just part of who he is, just as his hearing loss is. We also got a moment with the bench of loneliness that was an interesting parallel with s3. (I love how the Buttes-Chaumont parc has become this double symbol in Skam France of both loneliness/alienation/putting on a mask and growth/return to authenticity.) And I like that he ended up the season single and deciding to figure himself out. It’s a big aspect of his character that he has spent too much time trying to conform to expectations and that he was super walled off as a result, that he hurt others without realizing, that he found himself boring, that he didn’t seem to open up to his friends, etc...and in the end he is a lot more open but he also knows there is a part of growth that being in a relationship cannot bring him. He can’t use women the way his father did. I respect that a lot, honestly, it’s what saved the end of the season for me, that they didn’t end up putting one girl above the other and made it about Arthur being lost and needing to find his way on his own. 

The tornado and the sunshine : The new characters were awesome. Her role in the plot set aside, I really liked Noée as a character concept. I think Winona was awesome, and I liked Noée’s mix of warmth and feistiness. I like that they let her be angry at the way the world treated her, and compassionate at the same time. Also her headbutting that guy in the club that didn’t want to listen to her was !!! iconic. I loved her style, too, and that dance was so beautiful. Camille was a great addition to the team too, Arthur was lucky to find someone that patient and his dry humor but sunny disposition were great too. It was cute to see him with Mika as a couple of gurus - that we did get a Deaf/hearing couple was a good addition to the season, I think - and I hope we’ll see both of those new characters next season, too. 

Queen Alexia : She was definitely one of the characters I had the most emotions for this season. She’s just so cool and her perspective on life is just so mature and interesting, her acceptance of herself and others so inspiring - a lot of the early clips with her were adorable. I loved how supportive she was in such a creative, playful way - that game she made for Arthur, the boards she brought, etc. The moments she talked about her insecurities, if bittersweet because of what happened later, remains one of my faves from the season. She was so beautiful framed by rainbows (also apparently that’s her sign name ? Amazing.) And the moment where she sings was just...oof. She was really brave and strong to be able to do that, to express her emotions and hurt in such a public, dignified and creative way. It was a moment of reckoning for Arthur, putting him on the spot and recognizing how much he hurt her, but it was done in such a graceful way - the way she signed to signal her acceptance of his Deafness, the reminder that she loves him and won’t be able to forget that immediately, and a rejoinder to recognize his feelings towards Noee, etc. She wasn’t perfect (organizing that meeting without asking really pushed it a bit too far - you can’t rush someone else’s self acceptance) but she was just ...really good. 

Elu as an established couple : One of my biggest reproaches to s3 is that they didn’t give us enough fluff after all the drama (time constraints, I know, etc.) But this season they really delivered. And listen I know some fans love to blather about fanservice but fuck it, I just love seeing a healthy domestic queer couple on screen !!!! It’s just so bloody healing, because they feel real and in love like nothing I have ever seen on screen before. Maybe because so often straight actors are so awkward at playing queer intimacy and they’re really not. Seeing them in their new appartment was like a pure shot of serotonin - morning croissants ! fairylights everywhere ! but I also liked that it wasn’t too fluffy one note. We can still see that Eliott struggles with MI, that Lucas has some insecurities, but yet their devotion to each other is still as strong, as in “he’s my boyfriend and I love him.” It was a hopeful note throughout the season, Lucas being persistent and devoted all through the challenges of being with someone who is mentally ill. Also, I really liked Eliott’s role this season, as a sort of...provider for the Gang ? Getting them a van, bringing them to the cool graffiti place, making this fresque for them...you can feel he’s not 100% part of the gang because he’s older, already in college, etc, but at the same time he has sort of an observer role that can give them things no one else can. I feel like Lucas confided in him about the troubles they were going through and Eliott can empathize with being treated different, the fear of losing your friends...so Eliott helped them in his unique way, through art. And him having this new secret place he can bring more people to, and so full of color and sharing his art with people and !!!! God I’m emo he’s just my fave character ever really. 

The pressure of the future : Listen the last year of high school in France is horrible, there is the pressure from the BAC + half the people are passing entrance exams and doing interviews for the stuff you want to do later and it’s so stressful and I’m glad they touched on that at least a little. Emma really embodied this theme this season, of the pressure of not wanting to know what you want to do later. It’s really when you realize that they’re all so young and being asked to make such big decisions for their entire lives is really sort of fucked up, and I think her being there is a way to dedramatize not knowing, and gives Arthur the freedom to see he doesn’t want to be a doctor ; I liked the apt comparison with Imane’s passion for medecine. I wish we’d seen more of Arthur figuring out his real passion (did he make that painting or what ?) but I appreciated this storyline. 

Overall, I think this season was full of excellent moments - either funny, heartwarming, heartbreaking, or edifying - and it provided some much needed quality representation for the Deaf community. In that, and having educated a lot of people, it is at least somewhat a success. However, as a whole, it did not quite come together for me, which is what I will analyze in my next post. 

#skam france #skamfr s5 #skam france meta #my meta #arthur broussard

[reject-princess97]

Jay Halstead 2 (part 2)

5pm soon rolled around and Kim and I had to start getting ready. We walked out into what we called wardrobe.

"So, what do you think I should wear?" Kim asked, flipping through the few outfits.

"Well, it's a club, so, that red dress, those black studded stilettos and that leather jacket." I pointed out as I searched.

I wasn't one for dresses so I chose a pair of black sequin short shorts, a loose fitting lace top that showed just enough cleavage. I slipped on a pair of black strappy shoes and what ever lose, low hanging jewellery I could find.

Once hair and make up were done Kim and I headed out to see Jay and Ruzek waiting, both dressed up.

"Wow, look at you too." Ruzek grinned. Jay stood speechless for a second before regaining his composure and stepped forward.

"You ladies ready?" He asked, holding his arm out, which I took.

"Double dating with S/N." Ruzek called as we all head back to the bullpen to meet Voight, Dawson and Atwater.

"I will kill you Ruzek, just know that."

Everyone in the room laughed as Ruzek winked at me.

Once Voight had briefed us on the job we all left, heading to our posts.

It was a few hours later and Jay and I we stood in a concealed ally way, around the side of the bar. Out of sight, incase we bump into Jordan.

I lent across the wall, playing with my ring when a voice rang through my ear.

"Y/L/N, Halstead, Jordan is heading straight for you get out of there." Voight ordered.

"Yes boss." I whispered into my coma  but looking around the corner I noticed our suspect walking towards us. There was not time to move so thinking quick on my feet I grabbed Jay.

"Kiss me, quick!" I whispered. Before Jay could say anything, I pulled Jay into me and kissed him. At first Jay stiffened against me but after a second he relaxed into our embrace and kissed me back, pushing me against the wall.

The kiss was urgent and filled with...something I couldn't quite figure it out.

We stayed like this until I heard a voice chuckle.

"Huh, young love. Theres nothing like it." I pushed Jay away quickly and faked embarrassment as I looked at our suspect.

"I'm sorry, 1 year anniversary." I lied, well, it wasn't exactly a lie, today really was a year since we got together. The man only smiled and wished us luck before he kept walking. I watched, as the man who killed the only family I had, turned back a little to look back at me and I felt my heart stop as he stopped dead and turn his whole body around, looking straight at me, a sickening smile in his face.

"Miss Y/L/N...I hardly recognizes you." He smirked after a minute or so.

"What's it been? Ten Years?" He fished and I shrugged.

"Something like that, yeah." I growled. My eyes fixed in him as he took a step forward.

"Wow, to think, I thought you were dead." He laughed evilly.

"No, I just got a job, putting scum like you away." I growled.

I saw Jay step in front of me, putting himself inbetween Frank and I.

"Y/L/N, keep your distance, don't react, it's what he wants." Burgess reminded me and I took a deep breath.

"It was such a shame about your sister, she seemed like such a nice girl." The mob boss smirked and I felt my finger twitch, ready to reach for my gun.

"Y/N, don't." Voight warned in my coma and I felt Jay teach back and take my hand. Frank seemed to notice this too because he smirked.

"I see you got more than just a cop badge going for here in Chicago." I stayed quiet, glaring at the man in front of me.

"How long has it been, huh Y/N?" He grinned. I once again found myself speechless out of anger and when I saw him reach for his gun I stairred, wide eyed.

"I asked you a question, Y/N?" He growled, pointing the gun at me. I watched with wide eyes as he moved the gun to Jay.

"10 years, 10 years today" I squeaked out, trying to move myself in front of Jay but Frank shook his head at this.

"No, you stay right where you are or I'll shoot him." He warned.

"Now, you are going to stay still, and let me go, if you don't I will kill your boyfriend." He told me as he began to step backwards. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Burgess and Ruzek walk out of the bar, guns raised. Frank seemed to notice this too because the next thing I know there was a deafening gunshot and Jay fell to the floor.

"Jay!" I yelled, falling to my knees. I leaned over Jay to get a better look, but I was to upset to really see anything wrong, but when I noticed his eyes shut i felt myself begin to shake.

"Jay, come you need to wake up. You can't leave me like this, I need you." I cried as I put my hand over his wound and applied pressure to stop the bleeding.

"Y/L/N!" I heard a voice call but it was to late. I hear a bang and I felt this unruly amount of pain pierce my stomach. Then everything went black as I hunched over Jay, my own blood mixing with his.

*Three days later*

Everything was pitch black, nothing could be heard except the sound of the most annoying beeping sound I had ever heard.

"Can someone please turn of that god awful beeping, it's giving me a head ache." I groaned, opening my eyes a little to find the brightest light imaginable shining down over me.

"Sorry, Y/N, no can do." I heard a familiar voice chuckle. I looked over to see Ruzek sat grinning at me in the chair.

"Ugh, I knew it. I died and now I'm in hell?" I groaned as I sat up a little, stopping when I felt pain flash over my body.

"OK, hurtful." Ruzek gasped as he set down his phone and stood up. "I'm gonna assume that was the meds talking and that you are actually happy to see my face." He grinned and I tried to shrug.

"Assume away." He smiled, raising his thumbs up before he walked out of the room. Entering again a couple minutes later with Will, my soon-to-be brother-in-law.

"Well hello Dr Handsome." I grinned lazily as he entered the room. He let out a chuckle as he began looking over my chart.

"How you doing there Detective Short stack?"

"A little offended if I'm being honest, I call you handsome, you call me short...what kind of love is that?" I joked.

"Brotherly love at its finest." He answered. Then his face seemed to drop a little and I knew it wasn't great.

"So, what's the diagnosis Doc?" I sighed, letting my silly mood be washed away by the reminded I was in hospital.

"Actually, everything looks good, there were a few complications in the surgery, hence the three day nap. But everything is looking good." He smiled, sitting on the edge of my bed. He looked over me, shining a torch in my eyes, checking reflexes. He seemed happy with my tests because he stood up and began to walk out.

"Will..?" I began but he turned around and nodded.

"I'll have him brought in, he's been bugging me to let him see you for two days straight."

"Aww, I knew he loved me." I grinned, my joking nature coming back. Once Will was out of the room Ruzek came and sat on my bed. I looked up at him, one eye brow raised as he watched me.

"He loves you huh?" He grinned. "And I didn't miss Dr Halstead's 'brotherly love' comment."

"Yes, Will and I like to make jokes like that, since his is like a big brother to me." I tried to cover but Ruzek only shook his head.

"Or you and Jay have been dating for the last two years and recently got engaged so Will is infact going to be your big brother."

"Or that...that sounds right." I chuckled. "How did you know?"

"Jay told me, after he woke up he was really worried, but you had be taken I to another surgery so Kim and I tried to keep him preoccupied. He ended up telling us everything." He explained.

I was about to say something else, maybe something along the lines of I'm sorry, but I didn't get the chance because there was a knock at the door and in walked Jay and Burgess.

When Jay saw me sitting up he seemed to our two friends in the room and rush over to my bed, pulling me into a soft, sweet kiss.

"You're awake." He murmured into my lips and I chuckled, nodding. "I was so freaking scared, you have no idea." He sighed, pulling away, but only a little as he rest his forehead against mine.

[idanwyn-et-al]

(XIV||20) 20. Vessel (free prompt).

((As usual, I rely on words from others for the prompts, so thanks to my friend The Artist Formerly Known As Kashel for giving me this one!))

She had made it here, and yet, she didn’t fully understand how or why.

Well, that was not entirely accurate, of course; she wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t charted out every single aspect of the rite needed to travel such a great distance. It was more a sense of being adrift, of spending most of one’s life desperately wanting to leave one’s world behind for another, and now that she had achieved it and had had a few moments to breathe, she felt restless. 

The tired old maxim of “be careful what you wish for because you just might get it” rattled around in her mind as she explored the gardens of the Crystarium, careful not to touch anything (she’d learned that lesson the hard way, and the rash on her left palm was the proof). Anne-Sophie had found the knight written about in so many faerie tales; well, if he was not the knight, he certainly was a knight that matched the description. With the help of a creature called a Nu Mou named Osre Tyrdae who was a friend of the man named Oberic, Anne-Sophie and Dawn had managed to free him. It was a kiss that did it in the end, a desperate hope that perhaps faerie tales were true in a land populated solely by faeries; her warm lips on his stony ones, feeling him warm and limber up as the enchantment faded, begin to kiss her back before she sprawled to the ground like a startled cat. 

Her second kiss...ugh, how embarrassing was that?! How could she possibly tell him that?! She balled her hands into fists and shivered with shame, unaware of the few curious glances her little fit earned her. Oberic was patient and wise without being stodgy; he had respect for her prowess on the battlefield, and answered her constant barrage of questions willingly enough, if somewhat bemusedly. 

To have awoken a hundred years after being turned to stone, the last known knight of Voeburt whose unseeing eyes had watched his kingdom fall into ruin...she could scarcely imagine it. Even after a lifetime of watching her world be reforged by the Calamity, seeing countless hamlets and great stone towers reduced to smoking rubble by the wrath of the great wyrms...somehow those things lacked the profound, aching sadness that Oberic’s own losses contained.

She could see it in his eyes, sometimes, when he spoke about his strong blacksmith of a mother, or brilliant goldsmith of a father; the realization that their bones had long since turned to dust, along with everyone else he had ever known. There was one question she always hedged around, couldn’t quite bring herself to ask; what was it like for him, to be a vessel of all the lost kingdom’s hopes and dreams, a living memory of a place now filled with soaring beauty and tricky fae? 

The knight-scholar’s fervent desire to learn ever warred with her senses of empathy and propriety on this point, and she worried at this mental knot as surely as she fussed with the blisters on her palm. Both were fruitless actions, doomed to only make their respective problems worse, and yet, she couldn’t seem to help it. Perhaps after a few more moons had passed and she had gotten to know him better, she would ask him. Until then, she vowed to leave it alone; it was not her wound to bear, nor mend.

(( @knight-in-voeburt​ for the mention!))

#FFXivWrite2020 #prompt 20 free prompt #vessel #Anne-Sophie Bale #Oberic Brightroar #my writing #ishgard #first shard #ffxiv midlander #ffxiv highlander #hyur #two posts in one day on top of running an RP event for Nixie...my writer brain is crying

[xsecretblastsx]

1x10 - High Society

Finally I’ve reach a double digit episode, and what an episode, I feel this is where I really start questioning characters decisions, but I also love drama so, withouth more preamble, here’s the recap. Again it got insanely long.

Thoughts I had while watching the episode:

I love “comin home baby”, so right there this show is making me so happy.

I’ve actually paused the episode to see the date of the debutante ball a.k.a Cotillion 

I love Blair’s red tigh outfit, also where did that guy Prince Theodore came from?

Chuck’s proud face when Nate mentions how happier Blair seems lately, and also, dude really you don’t miss your girlfriend haha

Honestly I feel this scene with all these parallel conversations about Cotillion is great, right up my alley.

All the subtle drama in that rehearsal, the secret glances, Chuck and Nate keeping their eyes on Blair all the time, this is the kind of content I’m here for. 

I would  like to know why everyone is in their preppy uniforms and then there’s Kati and Is who look like they’re part of Flashdance

Lilly rolling her eyes the moment she sees CeCe, and then really enjoying Cece’s mortification when she realizes Dan is a Humphrey. I love Lilly.

And from Cece’s horrified face we go to hottest PG-13 make out ever. For real though I love this scene, they both look so good and so into it, and they’re so deliciously flirty and their chemistry is out of the charts. Great choice in music too.

I don’t know who is more frustrating by Nate interrupting Chuck or myself.

Chuck’s little smile when Blair says to Nate they should  move on, only to be whipped out in the next minute

Two things about the heart pin: that was an incredibly smart move on Nate’s part, and if you had any doubt Blair Waldorf is such a hopeless romantic.

Cece such a manipulator, it’s unbelievable. Imagine if Serena was more like her family...

Nate’s tux fitting deserves an honorable mention just for the fact that Blair’s actually wearing jeans. Also he kind of deserves she’s lowkey ignoring him

I mean, Dan is so annoying, like yeah I get his point Cotillion is such an elitist unnecessary event, but the way he goes about it gets on my nerves.

Hello Carter. I actually don’t mind him this episode. 

Out of all the seasons I feel like Season 1 is the one where it’s weirder for the final reveal of who gossip girl is, right now it makes the guy really look like a sociopath, with all the stuff he pretends not to know.

Oh Nate! This scene is so fun, like Chuck is so done with the conversation and then “you guys are still pretty close aren’t you?” Dude you have no idea. And the Cherry on the cake “Could you find out who she’s seeing? - Me” he told you Nate, he told you.

Cece’s words to Dan are cruel, but it is the crux of their relationship,, right until the very end and he deals with it in the worst way possible, and why in his mind, every issue in their relationship is always Serena’s fault. Ugh.

Between Dan and Carter, yeah she should have ended with Carter, too bad Cece’s word weren’t profetic.

I wish we had a clearer view of Blair’s outfit in that scene she’s talking with that New York Times guy, because I think it’s purple, and I wish we had seen her using that color a bit more.

Chuck is so jealous and Blair’s like yeah whatever as if. But a jealous Chuck is scheming Chuck. 

I love Rufus, you go Dan (just for this one time)

I’ve always felt Serena’s look for Cotillion was a lot of gold, not in a good way, but right now? I’m kind of feeling it. And she looks gorgeous. 

I mean I think there was probably a better way to say that Grandma Cece is evil, but still I’m not sure it would have matter Serena didn’t want to listen, she never does actually now that I think of it, the end of S3 comes to mind.

Blair has the funniest lines “I’m gonna go Naomi Campbell on you” Is so sad though that we got to see so little of that Erickson Beamon necklace, it’s lovely.

“Hey Beatiful” oh the things one notices when one no longer hates Carter and VanderBaizen is your second Serena ship.

Lily and Cece’s faces at Serena’s presentation stament are to die for.

The pretty little liars song! But since I haven’t watch that show, this one is going to remain a Gossip Girl song for me.

Seeing Cece and Lily at Cotillion makes me think that Blair’s parents are the worst, it’s their daughter debut and none of them could be bothered to attend the event

It didn’t remember this was the first time they mentioned the Santorini incident, less of all in the way Carter tells it, I thought this was first mentioned in S2, 

Not exactly a fan of Lily’s scene with Dan, because yes I agree at this point for the most part Dan is a good influence, but she almost makes it look like Serenas change is thanks to Dan, and that’s not the case. She had decided to change even before she met him.

Also this is feeding Dan’s ego and his belief that he’s the best thing to happen to his girlfriends. 

Oh Chuck finding out than when it comes to Blair scheming is not an easy feat,  and to think this in only the first time this is going to happen.

Poor Chuck, that hurt. Nate’s wink adding salt to his wounds ouch.

That phone between Ruflus and Lily, yes you shouldn’t have let her go!!!

Oh how I used to like that last scene between Dan and Serena.

Seeing that scene of Cece taking her pills made me think of S5, and that’s probably the episode I hate the most in the whole show.

Blair and Nate finally get to it, but seriously Blair doing it with Nate while wearing the necklace Chuck gave you, is tasteless. Also compared to a certain scene at the start of the episode, this looks a bit dull..

Chuck running away, also him looking at the news paper where Blair is happily smiling with some guy, reminded me again of S5. 

Ending this episode with “Apologize” was so 2007, remember how popular this song was?

This was a really packed episode. It introduces us to Cece, and gaves a bit more insight into Rufus and Lily’s history. We have Jenny picking the UES over her family, she’s changing. A dash of Van der Baizen, and our first glimpse to their shared past. Dan and Serena having another clash of worlds, that ends with Lily finally acepting Dan for real; and finally the end of Chuck and Blair 1.0 and the star of Nate and Blair 2.0.

While interesting Jenny’s and Rufly bits this episode, they’re a small part of the episode, Jenny’s in particular feels like a setting up of events to come and as such I feel I have not much to say about it right now. So this episode Dan and Serena had to deal with quite an opponent: Grandma Cece.

Cece while manipulative did raised some interesting points, mainly how out of place Dan feels in the UES, all those things she mentioned are things that Dan resents about the UES, and he may be brushing it up aside for now, but that doesn’t mean it won’t linger and fester in his mind. And then we have Serena who for some reason (which i can’t help but feel is related to Dan) has decided to ditch Cotillion, the even that according to Lily she wanted to attend since she was much younger, and sure people change, Serena is proof of that but in this case I feel her not going is in part to annoyed her mother but also to prove Dan she’s the girl he thhinks she is, i know I may be projecting my dislike of Dan and Derena on this, but it just feels like that to me, and it’s a troubling aspect of their relationship. Also when Dan mentioned to Serena about Cece’s ploy, she doesn’t believe him, doesn’t want to hear it at first, and I just feel for her because sadly is not the first time she’s going to have to accept that her family is not who she think they were.

Last but not least there’s Chuck and Blair. So their secret fling lasted only a month, since the beginning it took Chuck much less effort to embrace the situation, for all his playboys ways the morning after their first time... he wanted them to get breakfast, and it took him Nate messing up again for him to convince Blair of giving them another chance. So when Nate shows interest in Blair, this is Chuck’s worst nightmare come to life, Blair had her whole life with Nate planned out since she was a little girl, she only gave up on that dream when it was clear Nate wanted no part of it, and sure Chuck knows the potential they have, he lowkey always knew, and that’s why he falls so fast, because subconciously he was halfway there since foreve, but it’s very hard to compete with years of Nate, Nate Nate, in Blairs head. So he panics, he gets jealous... and he plots. And it backfires horribly. And for the first time in his life he gets his heart broken.

I don’t judge Blair on this one though because well she knows Chuck, he has an agenda always, and him being Chuck Bass it never occurs to her that he may be realy into her beyond just sex, to her all they being doing is fooling around, she tells Chuck that he needs to learned to behave for them to move to something more, and Chuck behaving is an eufemism of so many things: trust,knowing that she matters to him enough, that he cares. And that’s a big step and it’s a conversation that needed to happen.. and then it doesn’t. Thanks Nate. But really having Nate finally wanting her, and then Chuck seemingly only caring for himself and his own amusement is not suprise she picks Nate. 

I do feel for Chuck because when he gets desperate he doesn’t think properly at all,  he knows Blair, how smart she is and that she’s a good at him at plotting and manipulation,and yet he fails to take that into account, like this episode, he wants Nate to cause a scene to shatter Blair’s image of Nate, because she tells him he would never, so it’s not hard for Blair to see that Nate only caused one because Chuck manipulated into it, it’s transparent. And this is a lesson that sadly he’s not going to learn anytime soon. 

Random bits I would like to mention: ( a bit surprised I got so many for this episode)

So Blair’s birthday is the 15th of november, this means Chuck and Blair version 1.0 lasted a month. Common knowledge I suppose, but I’ve read fanfics where the timeline is much shorter. 

A bit of personal trivia: I love the song “you’re a wolf” (the one playing when Chuck and Blair are making out) and last year was kind of weird for me and I had like a thousand mood changes so anyway, so there was one week I started listening to this song, and I just couldn’t stop re playing it, just so out of nowhere, I played it so much, it ended up being my most played song last year according to Spotify. 

I remember when the type of purse Jenny has was on fashion, and it was cool because it got to the point that street markets they were sold really cheap because they made them out or recycled materials

Chuck tells to Nate that “like the book says she’s just not that into you” and it made think that this was so long ago that there was only the book, the movie wasn’t out yet, wow.. 

I wonder what would have happened if she hadn’t fight with Dan, because then Carter wouldn’t have been at Cotillion, and then the drama between Chuc, Blair and Nate could have ended up in a completely different way.

The Palace does likes like a good place to have the Cotillion, not sure that would have been the case in real life, but here it fits nicely.

Irrelevant but apparently Kati and Is do everything together at such an extent they were scorted by two guys that I guess were brothers because they had the same last name.

You won’t believe but The Pierces have a 2020 version of Secret, it came out on my new releases list on Spotify last week.

#gossip girl #gossip girl recap #gossip girl rewatch #1x10 #high society

[idea-garden]

oneshot #7 - dirty bathroom fuck - pt.2 | @minseoks-personal-trashcan

pt. 1 | pt. 2

Baekhyun/OC

Sequel to a request from @minseoks-personal-trashcan​

Written by @idea-garden​

This has been requested since I posted the first part, and we all know that was forever ago...

SMUT / 18+ / car sex / angry sex? / public sex / oral / orgasm denial / dirty talk / d/s / bdsm

3,800 words

SooRi left for a six-month internship. SooRi will never leave Baekhyun again...

If you like this like it, reblog it, and follow me!

This is trash.

ALL PROMPTS | SMUT PROMPTS | RULES | ASK | MY WRITING

SooRi stood outside her apartment door waiting for her rideshare to pick her up. The cool autumn breeze had picked up some and it made her shiver slightly in her nude bodycon dress. Finally, her ride came, the car’s lights cutting the dark sky. Collecting herself in the car, she gave the address, then sat back to observe the scenes outside the window. Everything she passed by looked so foreign and so familiar at the same time. Each place holding a different memory, giving her both nostalgia and nausea.

After a slow cruise, she reached her destination. It was her favorite restaurant. Ugh. She missed this place. She turned her eyes up at the bright place, took a breath, and slapped a few crumpled bills in her driver’s hand.

SooRi couldn’t believe it’d only been six months since she was last home. It felt good to be back. Of course, there was no place like home.

The fine dining establishment was set for dinner. Its floor-to-ceiling windows giving a beautiful view of the harbor. The decor was set in warm lighting. Cream carpet, cream chairs, off-white tablecloths, and various shades of gardenias were just a few aesthetic notes she observed.

This place was fancy. Too fancy. But, since she wasn’t buying, she had no issue eating there.

--

SooRi stood at the front of the restaurant, only waiting for a brief second before a hostess in a cute cocktail dress appeared before her. They exchanged brief smiles, as the hostess asked for a name. The restaurant was so exclusive that you could only eat there by reservation only. Apparently, according to her friend, you had to book at least six weeks in advance. SooRi appreciated the gesture. She was never one to want a big fuss to be made over her, but she had to admit it felt pretty great to be in the middle of the fanfare.

She stood for a second as the hostess scanned the seating chart, then guided her to a semi-private table set for six. Menus and neatly folded napkins were sitting on white plates that covered gold chargers. The hostess pulled out her chair and wished her a pleasant dining experience.

She was the first one to arrive to her own welcome back dinner. Typical--considering her immediate friend group. Jessi and Junmyeon were either doting on each other or having car sex in the parking lot. SooRi was convinced that Jongin and Chanyeol didn’t even know how to tell time. And Baekhyun… well he didn’t give a shit about anyone’s time except his own.

SooRi pulled out her phone, shooting a text to Jessi and noting the time. She was a little early, so she wasn't too irked. A response returned within two minutes. Her friend was on her way there--delayed traffic. SooRi told her it was no problem. She had the aching suspicion she and Junmyeon were definitely fucking in the car. However, SooRi knew her friend would never intentionally keep her waiting.

After about ten minutes, she saw Jessi and Junmyeon in lockstep carrying balloons and what looked like a neatly wrapped gift. Jessi passed her things to her boyfriend and enveloped SooRi in a tight hug.

"I missed you so much! I'm so glad you're back!" The pair teetered side to side as the hug continued.

SooRi had to chuckle, they talked every single day of her absence. There was a good chance Jessi knew more about her day than she did, but nonetheless it felt great to see familiar faces again.

"I'm glad to be back! It's good to be back with friends again."

Just as the words left her lips, Jongin walked up with Chanyeol in tow.

"There are my boys," SooRi pulled them in one after the other.

She noticed them dropping off little gift bags where Junmyeon had been previously.

"Have a seat guys! I guess we can get started," SooRi urged them to get comfortable.

She looked around the table with a smile, until her eyes rested on the empty seat.

SooRi knew she shouldn't have expected much from him, but she still wanted to see him.

"Where's Baek?"

"He just messaged me. He's on his way. He wanted us to start without him." Junmyeon reassured her.

He was probably still upset with her. She knew he had every right to be, but being on the receiving end of a cold shoulder was never pleasant.

--

The group eventually ordered their beverages and a palate cleanser. Meanwhile, Baekhyun sat in his car, deliberating whether or not he was ready to see her.

His thumbs twisted around the key fob as he was deep in thought.

She left him. She left him without a word. He didn't owe her anything, and she didn't owe him anything, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss her.

"Fuck it. I'm here now." Baekhyun slammed his car door on the way out, pissed he missed her as much as he did.

He spent no time waiting for the hostess to lead him to the table. He walked through with a confident stride. Dressed in fitted black jeans and a navy button down. The shirt, top two buttons open, gave a sinful hint of the body underneath.

In true Baekhyun fashion, he greeted the table with an off-handed comment before plopping down in the only empty seat.

Of course, it was the seat in front of her.

SooRi's mouth nearly went dry when she saw him. She hadn't seen him in six full months. Sure, she'd been stalking his Instagram, but nothing compared to the real thing.

Involuntarily, she clutched her dainty, gold necklace, rubbing it--most likely praying for the strength to make it through this dinner without crawling across the table to get on top of him.

He gave a smirk and reached across to her wine glass, taking a sip from it, daring her to react to him. He was truly a piece of work.

‘Lord, give me strength,' she mused as a strong breath filtered through her nose.

--

Drinks were scattered around the table and appetizers were spread and half-eaten.

“So, did you meet any cute guys during your internship?” Jessi snickered.

“Yeah, SooRi. Did you fuck them until they wanted to stick around, then hop on the next flight out of there?” Baekhyun grit his teeth under an annoyed stare in her direction.

“Baek, chill out!” Jongin rested a hand on his shoulder, while Baekhyun took a sip of his alcoholic beverage.

He was going to need to get drunk to make it through this damn thing.

“No, I didn’t have to do that. It turns out that most men are mature. They are upfront about what they want and don’t play games, then pout when they don’t get their way.”

“Now that I think about it, having you stay with a man is punishment enough. Perhaps, you’re doing us all a favor when you run away.” Baekhyun slammed his glass down to punctuate his malcontent.

“I think this is a good time for dessert.” Chanyeol piped up.

“God Chanyeol. We haven’t even had our entrees.” Junmyeon murmured under his breath.

“Well, it’s a better suggestion than watching a fucking cage match at our table!”

No one could argue with that.

“Let’s all cut Baekhyun a break. It’s difficult for us to see things from his perspective, because none of us can get our heads that far up our own asses.” SooRi winked at him and Baekhyun rolled his eyes damn near out of his skull.

“You just don’t know how much I’ve missed you, SooRi, “Jessi smirked at her boyfriend before the rest of the group had a hearty laugh at poor Baekhyun’s expense.

--

Before long, the main meals had come and gone. Now, the group sat around trading stories to catch each other up on the happenings of their life over dessert.

"I'm so glad to be back. I just want to settle into my old routine again."

Baekhyun scoffed, partly in disbelief.

"Which part of your routine? The part where you beg me to fuck you in every position known to man? Or the part where you act like you aren't interested in us being 'us'?"

Eyebrows shot up around the table. This was news.

SooRi cast her head down. This was one of the few times in her life she wasn't feeling too combative. Normally, she would've ripped Baekhyun a new asshole, or exsanguinated him with words sharper than knives, but not tonight.

"What's the matter, SooRi? You still haven't told them about us keeping up fuck buddy-status since Jongin's party?"

That cheeky bastard beamed at the chance to put her in her place in front of everyone.

"You know, just because your parents never gave you hugs as a kid, doesn't excuse you from being a complete ass." SooRi didn't want him to think she cared about anything he had to say, but enough was enough.

She took a deep breath, then sighed. "I'm sorry guys. I don't think I can stay here any longer." SooRi stood, reaching for her purse and phone.

"Don't leave your welcome back party! We'll kick Baekhyun's sorry ass out of here," Chanyeol snickered and stuck his tongue out.

"You're the best, Yeol. It's getting late anyway, and we've had such a nice time. I'd hate to ruin the night with an attempted murder charge."

--

SooRi hugged her friends one last time, before she departed. Her heels clicked with a soft echo in the concrete parking lot. She tapped her foot out front, waiting for her rideshare.

A strong hand gripped her waist without warning.

"You've got a lot nerve, walking out on me like that."

"I don't know if you were at the same dinner that I was, but you were the one acting all butt-hurt."

"When the going gets tough, SooRi gets going." Baekhyun shrugged, "If you want to get home you might as well let me take you. I canceled your ride. You're still on my account, remember?"

SooRi glared at him, fighting her instinct to curse him out.

"You'd have better luck asking Carmen Sandiego where in the world you lost your damn mind!"

"Get in the fucking car, SooRi. Let me take you home."

--

The tension was palpable as they rode in silence. Baekhyun cut his eyes over her frame. She looked amazing, as always. Since he'd had her, there was no one else he wanted.

"It killed me when you left." He spoke never looking in her direction.

"W-What?" SooRi tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"You just left me. I thought that we were, kind of, building something. Then, I find out through Instagram that you're on your way to New York for an internship."

"You always knew I had to go...," SooRi trailed off in a whisper.

Baekhyun's fingers tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles white and fully-flexed.

"That is not the point, dammit! You can't make people fall for you, then just leave them high and dry!"

SooRi's eyes widened, mouth partly agape, a series of questions ready to flow from her brain to her lips.

"Baekhyun-- W-Where are you going?!" She watched as he peeled off the path to her home and down some dark street.

Both of their bodies lurched forward as he came to a stop in the desolate alleyway. Putting the car in park, he turned to SooRi with a dark glint in his eyes.

"I wish I could get you out of my mind. I wish I could hate you."

--

Baekhyun pressed his lips against SooRi's, gently at first, gradually his force increased. She weakly tried to push him off, but she missed the feeling. His tone arm pulled her closer to him, SooRi's side digging into the center console.

"Ouch! Not so rough!" SooRi shifted uncomfortably around the console and his unrelenting grip.

"I think that's the least of your problems tonight, SooRi-ah. Someone needs to teach you some manners. It's not polite to leave your boyfriend without so much as a word."

"Boyfriend? Really, Baek?"

His hands grabbed her hips as best they could. "Ah, ah, ah! Tonight, I think you should address me as 'Sir,' don't you think? I am teaching you a very important lesson. Now, crawl into my lap, baby girl."

Against her better judgement, she shifted over his lap, "I bet you've missed this, huh?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Baekhyun."

He took no time to swat her ass quickly a few times. "What did I tell you to address me as?"

"...Sir...," SooRi looked off to the side. She'd be damned if she was going to make eye contact. Besides, she already knew he had a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Good girl. Lift up your dress."

Baekhyun watched as she wriggled around to lift her dress around her waist. He eyed the microscopic piece of fabric that was her lacy, white thong. His tongue slithered out from between his lips, eager to have and taste her.

She gnawed on her bottom lip in anticipation. She could feel his fingers ghosting over her entrance, before a cool gust of air hit her skin. He clenched his teeth, snapping the panties at the waistband.

SooRi glowered down at him, but stifled a moan when he shoved the underwear in his pocket.

"Looks like someone missed me, too," he dipped two fingers inside SooRi, while his thumb massaged her clit. "How thoughtful of you to keep it nice and wet for me."

She released a hoarse, needy groan at his delicate touch. He always knew which button to press to keep her reeling.

"Feel good, sweet girl?"

She nodded erratically, bucking her hips up to meet his fingers. "Uh huh. Y-Yes, Sir."

His digits quickened as they curled to tease her g-spot. Baekhyun was quite amused watching her face contort in a mixture of pleasure and discomfort. Her shallow moans broke up the silence between her delicious wet sounds and the leather squeaking against their active bodies.

Baekhyun slapped SooRi's inner thighs when her hip rolling became too eager. "There is so much more fun to have, baby."

"I'm close, Sir." Her nails dug into his shoulders, body twisting as her orgasm neared.

Her whimpers were the sweetest music to his ears. He could feel her warmth pulsing around his fingers.

As she found herself teetering dangerously on the edge, Baekhyun withdrew his fingers, opting to taste her.

She whined, watching him savor her unique flavor, "Put them back, please...Sir. I want to cum on your fingers."

"This wouldn't be much of a lesson, without some form of punishment."

Wiping his wet fingers on SooRi’s inner thighs, Baekhyun gripped her face in a deep kiss. Their tongues danced around in desperation for one another. Mouths still connected, he tugged at the thin straps of her dress, all too impatient for it to come off.

SooRi wriggled out of the top half of the dress, rolling it to the middle of her stomach where the rest of the dress was. Baekhyun’s tongue dragged a fiery trail down her neck to her uncovered breasts.

His tongue flicked at her nipples, before he alternated with a light suctioning pressure. He pulled the soft skin through his teeth, gently biting her and leaving her chest covered in maroon bruises.

SooRi tangled her fingers in his hair, head dropped back and body still tense with the desire to cum.

“Unzip my pants,” Baekhyun smirked at her attempts to grind against him for any kind of sensation.

She didn’t have to be told twice.

In a matter of seconds, Baekhyun’s dick was stiffening in SooRi’s manicured hand.

“Go ahead, princess. Ride me.”

She lined him up with her entrance and sank down with a satisfying sigh. He filled her up so nicely. She fit around him like a glove.

SooRi wrapped her arms around the driver’s headrest, slapping her hips up and down wildly. Baekhyun broke up the monotonous sound with a few sharp ass slaps.

Kneading the tender flesh, he grunted, “Damn, I’ve missed this ass.”

SooRi leaned back to roll her hips, narrowly missing the horn. Her knees dug into the soft leather around Baekhyun, frustrated by the lack of space. His hands ran up the sides of her waist and settled on her bruised tits.

Palming them roughly, she mewled as he rolled her nipples between his fingers. She hissed watching him pinch and tweak the hard nubs.

He pulled on her nipples as if they were the reins of a horse--tugging them mercilessly enjoying her whinnies for release. When he felt he'd done enough, he closed a broad hand around her throat.

"I'm about to--," she was barely able to breath out.

They were both well aware of the fact that whenever his hands clasped around her throat, she would be drenched. It was like she was straddling Niagara Falls.

"Not yet," Baekhyun swiftly opened his door and scooped her off of his length.

--

She wobbled to find her footing as she stood right outside the car--totally exposed.

"Baekhyun, what the fuck?!" She tried to shield her nude form and scurry to the passenger's seat, only for Baekhyun to stop her in her tracks.

"That's 'Sir,' to you. But, since you want to be a mouthy little slut, I'll give you something productive to do with your mouth."

Baekhyun eyes gleamed darkly as he stared her down. He towered over her to drop his jeans more comfortably, before resuming his seated position.

"Let's see those pretty lips on my dick, hmm?" Baekhyun blew a kiss in her direction, meanwhile SooRi returned the evil eye.

If she felt that her knees were in an uncomfortable position in the car, the cold asphalt was certainly no improvement.

SooRi kneeled and looked up to him, teeth gritting as she gripped him at the base of his cock. Her hands glided up and down his glistening shaft, pumping him faster and faster.

She swiped his tip quickly, cleaning a clear drop of precum. Her tongue drug a sloppy trail up from his balls to the tip, before swirling around the head.

SooRi shivered at the cool, night air, smirking at the thought of being so naughty. The lonely, flickering street light cast a shadow over the pair. The sounds and faint lights of cars moving on the highway made them very aware of their daring deed.

Baekhyun sucked in a jagged breath as her warm mouth worked its magic. He stroked her curly hair with great care, easing her down on his needy, aching member.

His voice strained as she expertly handled his girth. She always knew exactly what he needed in exactly the right moment. It wasn't long before he had her lips motioning at the base of his member.

"Fuck, baby...," he eked out with a clenched jaw.

After a few muffled gags, SooRi bobbed up for much-needed air. She lapped at the new precum leaking from his head. She eyed him with sliver of rebellion, as her hands pumped him faster and faster. One hand massaged his balls, while she tongued his tip.

"Is it good, Sir?" She'd picked up his signature smirk with no practice.

Baekhyun lifted SooRi from his length by her chin, "Ah, ah, ah. I want to pump that pretty pussy full of cum."

Her cheeks turned a bright shade of red as she stood in front of him, lips glistening in the brief flashes of light.

"You think if I put a baby in that tight little stomach, you'll have a reason to stay with me?" He whispered roughly in her ear.

She nearly lost her breath at the new side he was revealing.

He stood up, leading her to the hood of the car with one hand and holding his pants to help his waddle with the other.

When he found a comfortable spot, he cupped his hands under her ass, lifting her on the hood of his sedan.

She landed with a soft thud, tensing at the cold metal beneath her.

"Spread those legs, baby," he took a few seconds to kiss her inner thighs and pass his tongue over her slick opening.

Baekhyun lined his shaft up to her entrance, rubbing her clit with his thumb and parting her wetness with his tip.

"Mmmmm, don't tease," SooRi panted, hips moving at the slightest sensation.

Her body was on fire and no amount of air could cool her down. She needed release and wouldn't be denied. Not this time, anyway.

He pecked her lips, pulling her bottom lip through his teeth, just the way she liked it. Within a moment, he shoved hard and pushed his entire length into her in one thrust, holding her hips to pull her against him.

"You. Never. Fucking. Leave. Me. Again. Got it?!" He blew through his teeth, each thrust more powerful than the last.

It was her turn to grunt, grit, and moan, feeling his length tunnel into her. His thickness stretched her more than she remembered. She dug her hands into the hood of the car, frustrated that there was nothing to grab and hold onto for dear life. SooRi felt like she was losing her grip--not only on Baekhyun’s car, but reality--as he started moving, drawing back, and thrusting his length into her again and again.

"Oh, fuck! Keep fucking me like this, Sir! I'll never leave you again, Baekhyun!"

His mouth dried before a broad grin covered his features, "Learned your lesson so soon?"

SooRi could barely respond when her eyes shut tightly, riding the wave of pleasure flowing through her body. An onlooker would have described her as possessed, the way she writhed, convulsed, and shuddered. She rocked back and forth, still sliding on his dick, moaning unintelligible, incoherent strings of words.

The rocking BMW didn't have much of a chance to still as Baekhyun tipped over the edge. He felt his balls contract up towards his body, anticipating the muscle contractions start that would send him cumming inside her, and he grabbed her hips with both hands again to pull her back into him.

The spasms lasted for what seemed like forever in those moments of release. He bucked into her erratically as his ejaculation subsided, slowly coming down from the high.

--

Baekhyun rested inside her for a few minutes, before slipping out, gradually softening while SooRi adjusted her dress.

He pulled his pants up and hopped back in the driver's seat, waiting for SooRi.

When she closed the door behind her, they buckled up and peeled out of the alleyway.

"Maybe, I should leave more often?" SooRi winked as they headed to her place.

"Maybe, you need another lesson?" Baekhyun gripped her thigh, as he sped off into the distance.

Idea Garden is a writing prompts blog. We focus mainly on smut prompts, however, our prompts do span genres.

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[bluepenguinstories]

Happiness Overload Chapter Twenty-Four

The device attached itself to the nape of the neck and burrowed its way into the skin, integrating until the device and the body were one. Once the lights flickered to the tune of the heart's words, the first word was spoken:

“OMIGOSH!”

Wow. I MUST try that again. I opened my mouth and:

“OMIGOSH!DIDYOUSEETHOSEGIRLS?THEYWERESOCUTE!IWANNADATEONEOFTHEM!AND!AND!GUYS!MYVOICE!IT!IS!SOCUTE!”

Gumby puffed his cheeks and croaked. You don't have to make it look SO obvious that you aren't impressed. GOSH!

“Calm thyself,” Gumby tapped on my froggy shoulders. His smiling salamander mask did NOT match his tone, if you were to ask me.

I puffed my cheeks as well in protest.

“Come on, don't be like that, Polo. We're just as happy you're alive and that you get to speak. All I ask is that you talk a little slower.”

“I'm SORRY! It's just that I saw GIRLS while I was hopping about!”

“Yes, but remember: humans are our enemies. Those who are not frogs nor wish to become frogs ought to be eliminated.”

“I know, but...GIRLS!”

Gumby turned to “Marco”, my “brother”. HA!

“I must say, it is rather impressive that you knew of device that allowed Polo to speak in English. What I would like to know, however, is how Polo managed to survive the building's destruction.”

“Marco” tugged at a beard that seemed to have grown out of a puff of smoke. “His” eyes looked sunken, as well, and wrinkles around “his” face. Perhaps such a jester was trying to mimic how Conrad looked, but then again...maybe “he” was going for an “old man” look.

“Many doors,” wheezed “Marco” in what was a DEFINITE “old man”impression, though ALL I could think of was a chain-smoking chipmunk.

“BRO kept ME in 'HIS' pocket!” I piped up.

“Hmm...yes...sadly, I could not fit Mr. Periwinkle in my pocket,” my “brother” surmised, hunching “his” back now. Really playing SOME kind of role, but anyone's guess.

“OMIGOSH! You said we'd ALL be okay!”

“Yes, my dear sister. Mr. Periwinkle will be fine as soon as the facility is rebuilt. I imagine he may feel a little different once reawakened, maybe a little hungry...”

“Well, either way, I'm sure glad we've made some progress. Not much further now and we'll be able to create a new world for frogkind!”

“Ho ho ho!”

I tilted my lumpy head. “You Santa now?”

“New world for frogkind, or preserve frogs worldwide...either way, a new world is upon us. I project that the happiness meter is already off the charts. Think of how much higher it can go.”

“Why does it matter if humans are happier when they are our enemies?” Gumby groaned.

“Your enemies. I love all my brothers and sisters. Humans, frogs, beings from other planets, you name it. They're all so precious, ho ho ho!” Chuckled “Santa”.

“Who ARE you trying to fool? You're less like “SANTA” and more like “SAT--”

“Never mind that, think about where we are right now.”

Right. RIGHT. Oh WOW. I was SO absorbed in my new voice and how CUTE it was that I forgot about where we WERE.

So, I looked around and noticed a room full of machinery with buttons all over that did WHO KNEW WHAT. All I knew is how sleek and silver it all was, SO shiny. The air around tasted manufactured and rubbery, but not the GOOD kind of rubbery you get from eating flies. Even the floors where I lay my CUTE little frog legs were shiny AND smooth. I think “Saint Nick” wanted me to look further, but the only other thing of note were strange devices secured in cases. Gumby must've opened up the case that held what's allowing me to speak and...

“OMIGOSH!” I blurted.

“Ho ho! Amazing, yes, sister?”

“Shut IT! I was just remembering how CUTE those girls were! I hope I can see them again! UGH!”

“Ol' Scratch” gave me a pat on the back.

“Fret not, sister. You failed to kill them and they have survived their ordeal. Right now they are in a separate part of the whole.”

“YAY!” I hopped and flapped my tongue about. Alas, no flies in sight.

“Yes, I too am relieved. If the two were to have died before I got a chance to meet one of them, I just don't know what I would have done.”

My “brother” looked mournful, but was quick to change demeanor once again.

“For the moment, you two should look around the area. I, on the other hand, have a bit of soul-searching to go on. Fret not! We shall meet again!”

“Excuse ME?” I croaked. “That's it? Not much instruction, huh?”

The eternal imposter closed “his” eyes and cracked a smile. “Henceforth, you and Gumby may squabble to be the de facto leader!”

I crossed my upper frog legs with displeasure. My humanly physique was not having it, but what else could have been done but let the wanderer wander?

As “he” walked away into another room, or faded from view as if the presence was but a mere memory, Gumby turned to me and the two of us nodded in understanding.

From a control room, two esteemed scholars were having a little chit-chat with each other as they observed an unsatisfactory situation. I would soon be in that same control room.

“I am glad everything's coming together, but I hate how easy everything has been,” I lamented to Gumby just a little while prior.

“And why would that displease you?” Gumby had asked me.

I gave my colleague in amphibious studies no answer then, and if I were to have an answer now, it wouldn't be a satisfactory one. All that ran through my head were jelly beans and the knowledge buried somewhere that if things weren't complicated further in any way, shape, or form, then I would be one angry beaver.

“And then I said 'he had a booy that just wouldn't quit!'” One of the scientists threw a laughing fit.

“Dr. Chekhov, entertainer!” The other congratulated. “Maybe once reset, the next Sgt. Michaels feel a certain attraction toward our type!” The other one suggested, bearing a thick Russian accent.

“I concur, Dr. Tolstoy! To be kissed by such a hunk of muscles is what all scientists dream of!”

“Gentlemen,” I greeted as I hobbled up to the two.

“Who-Who are you?!” Dr. Chekhov struggled to speak. Poor sap must've been paralyzed with fear.

“Dr. Erikson, at your service,” I inched closer, introducing myself in the process.

I noticed Dr. Tolstoy reach his hand toward a button. Before he could press, what I presume would have been a button for weapons to appear, or to call security, I sandwiched myself between the two men and drew out my knives from my cloak, stabbing each one in the side.

“I agree, Dr. Chekhov. Guns are so excessive.”

Both seethed and winced in pain. I licked my lips in response. They writhed and squirmed and I noticed them reel back and try to reach for those buttons once again. Oh, I wouldn't let them hit that spot. Just as they were about to press their hand against the surface, I pulled my knives out of their sides and rammed them into their hands, forcing their palms to be stuck to the monitors just inches away from their security buttons. As I watched them attempt to struggle free, I shoved the knives deeper, and listened close to their screams. Just as I was sure the two would let something out, I covered their mouths and made shushing sounds.

“There, there, all will be well.”

I let go of them and Dr. Tolstoy spoke right away.

“What you want?”

“Let me tell you a story: God walks into a bar and announces loud enough for everyone to hear, 'I'm an atheist!'”

Shock and confusion filled Dr. Tolstoy in equal measure.

“I don't understand,” he whimpered.

“I want you to have a little faith,” I soothed once more. “Nobody bats an eyelash. See, the joke is that God showed up as a straight, white man! Isn't that funny?” I burst into a fit of laughter until I noticed that neither scientist looked amused. Such a brash reaction caused me to grimace.

“...Did I leave that part out?”  I knew I had to remedy this somehow.

“Okay, so the bartender asks God what it'll be and God denies any drinks, saying, 'I don't believe in any spirits'. Now, this is how the bartender knew he was dealing with a smartass, and any rational person would have kicked this guy out, but the bartender had already met the quota on tips and it would soon be closing time, so as long as there wasn't too much of a disturbance, he figured all was good.”

“Just tell us what you're doing here!” Dr. Chekhov demanded. I covered his mouth again and shushed.

“It's rude to interrupt. Now, where was I?” I had to pause once more as the good doctor broke my concentration. “Ah, so one of the patrons decides to humor God. They walk up and go, 'now, what of heaven? What of hell?' To which God replies, 'what about it?' The patron shook their head. 'Even still, are you going to mock those with faith?' God shrugged in reply and told the patron, 'I just don't believe in a higher power.' By coincidence, God took a sip of a cider.”

Dr. Chekhov's eyes widened, a great revelation thrust upon him.

“You...! Dr. Magellan!”

The two looked at each other, a loving gaze of despair. Each helped each other to break free from the knives that held down their hands, but I wasn't done yet. I grabbed two more knives from my cloak and slammed them into the scientists' other hands. Now they were nailed down to their machinery.

“You wanted to know what I was doing here, yes?”

Tears filled their cheeks. Blood trickled from their hands. Yet, they nodded.

“I am but a Steve looking for his Adam.”

I could sense confusion but I knew past their agitation, they knew.

“Were Adam and Eve both siblings and lovers? I love everyone, but sometimes this love is a blurry one.”

Though bound, the two were able to point me in the right direction. Kind gestures went a long way. As thanks, I pressed my hands against their faces, feeling the palms of my fingers against their flesh. Yes, those two were going to make great masks.

I bid them farewell and took my knives with me.

I took note of every item we passed through, mapping out the layout of our surrounding in my head. Polo, meanwhile, hopped about.

“Now that we can communicate, I have many questions I wish to ask you,” I mentioned as I took my strides, never averting my gaze from the foreign objects.

“Oh, I BET! This is all SO exciting!”

I think I preferred it more when all you could say was 'Polo'.

...But then I wouldn't have the chance to gain insight. I should take this opportunity, however it presents itself.

“But y'know, dude, we could ALWAYS communicate. Remember when you signaled which direction for us to go?”

I shook my head. I already knew we weren't going to find what we came for in the current room. I pointed her in the direction of the next door.

“SEE? That's what I'm saying!” She pointed out before hopping through.

I shook my head again. That wasn't what I meant.

We made our way to the next set of halls. Alarms began to sound. Marco had been a fool. If he had taken the time, there was little doubt he could have disabled the alarms. My third arm tried to reach up to my ear to block out the noise, but couldn't reach far enough. Soldiers ran out in droves to investigate what set off the alarm. Their armor, thick and metallic. Their weapons, strange and box-like. I would have to examine their technology and take note of it all as soon as possible.

“Who goes there?” The soldiers yelled.

Polo tilted her froggy head.

“Umm...RIBBIT?” She must have still been getting used to this new voice. My third arm reached up to my face and rubbed my forehead.

“You don't have to say 'ribbit'...” I groaned.

She made a leap into the air just as the bullets fired in every direction. My third arm was enough to protect me, and Polo's speed matched with her acrobatics meant that the soldiers' efforts were futile. She would grab some of the bullets with her tongue and spit them back at the soldiers. None of them doing any damage, due to their armor, but the acidic nature of Polo's mouth was strong enough to corrode bits and pieces of their armor. Glimpses of skin could be seen, and knowing what said flesh was made out of...

I only hoped salvation could come soon enough.

Polo managed to land a dropkick on one of the soldiers, and as I watched the hunk of alloy that carried such a clumsy species fall to a sleek floor made of unknown metals, I lifted my mask and licked my lips.

“Why are you just standing there?!” One of the soldiers barked. The surrounding oafs had their weapons raised.

“Are you going to alert others?” I looked around. “Or maybe others are already on their way. I would like to see what happens next, yes...” I licked my lips again, anticipating the next move. My gill rakers twitched like the little whiskers they resembled and I sucked up the air around me. Free from the soldiers' grasp came their weapons and I felt them make their way into my mouth. I took a big gulp and swallowed. Later on, I would have to regurgitate them and study the anatomy of their weaponry and see about crafting any upgrades.

The gasps from the soldiers were unsurprising; a natural reaction that anyone not used to my behavior would have.

Turrets and lasers appeared from panels in the walls and floors. Again, not a surprise. If these 'elite' soldiers were having difficulty, other measures would have to be taken. I shielded myself with my third arm and watched as it fell apart, other arms forming and unforming, filling in whatever gaps my old third arm left.

“This too...is fascinating...” I looked down as the lasers continued to do their work and holes were made into the arm. As much as the pain was on a higher threshold than most could handle, I made the effort not to flinch, and instead turned my head toward Polo and nodded.

“You GOT it, BOSSERONI!”

With her tongue, she tore a strip off the wall and crawled her way in where I presume she next found some panel to control the turrets because what came next were the robotic weaponry shifting their target from my beaten hydra of miniature arms and toward the soldiers.

“Et tu?” I asked the devices. They responded by ignoring my quip and taking fire at the soldiers who helped raise them.

Astonished, I took note of how the armor prevented the artillery and energy blasts from piercing through the armor and instead knocked each soldier back.

“...It's not easy being green,” emitted from each of the soldiers' helmets a song and Lilypad's calling card.

“Just what have you done to our communications?” Erupted the cries of a soldier.

“Not my doing,” the smile upon my face stretched. “Our esteemed engineer, Polo, has that honor.”

“YO! I found a mini PC and I can do all SORTS of junk on it!” Her voice box boomed. That voice was still one I would have to get used to.

I relaxed my face and exhaled a soft sigh.

“This has been a valuable experience. However, it would be far more valuable for us to move forward.”

Polo made a mighty leap while I walked forward, stepping on one of the fallen soldiers.

“Just what are you?” The one I had stepped on asked.

I leaned down, removing their helmet with one of my more presentable arms, and took a look at the face I would soon forget.

“An observer. Someone who seeks happiness. One who moves forward.”

I made good on my word and put the helmet back on as an asinine sign of respect before I stepped on their face and pressed my foot down hard enough to crush the soldiers' skull. Before I may have had a slight smile, my default expression. Now it was a full on grin, stretching far enough to reach my eyes. As soon as I heard the crunch and could confirm their forgettable face was flattened, I made my strides. Soon the two of us would be closing in on our goal.

There was a twinge of pain, to which I responded by turning my attention to the esteemed Dr. Tolstoy.

“I just had the strangest feeling,” I groaned, a pulsing headache crawling its way to the surface of my forehead.

“Just now?” Tolstoy with his thick and charming accent asked in response.

“Just now, yes. It felt like...” I was doing my damnedest to recall the feeling. “Like there was a presence that wasn't supposed to be here. Just now.”

“Non-authorized? Besides the girls set to be executed?”

I nodded, loose hairs making their way to the floor.

“Never worry about those two. Velvet shall cease and once the section of the facility is been restored, a new Mavis shall resume her role.”

“Wonderful!”

“...Then there's the matter of the amphibious presence.”

“Fear not, brother. We'll boil the frogs, then dissect them!”

“One of them seems to be part salamander. The fact that they've caused us this much trouble is worrisome.”

“As I said: boil, then dissect.”

Yes, boil, then dissect...once we get the air base up and running, that fat toad that ran around causing a massacre was sure to be apprehended and experimented on. Discovery can be a dirty business, everyone in the field knew that. Should it bother me that some hundred or so lives were lost to a unknown terror? Not particularly. We rebuild and adapt. Property damage as well, it means nothing when we can recreate what has been lost as if it never left us.

Even still, my fears were not alleviated.

“I don't know. I can't shake the feeling...someone was here in this room...”

“Would it help if you checked the cameras?”

I pondered. Yes, if I just looked at the footage of the past five, no, thirty minutes, there would lie my answer.

So I clicked through the footage. Nothing. Just me. Sitting there.

As I intensified my stare, a jolt of pain shot through my pain as if I had been stabbed. I felt as if my life was being stolen as my breath shortened, only for it to be gone again in just a split second. Maybe there was something my mind was surpressing, maybe it was my old age (doubtful considering how well I've preserved myself), or maybe it was something trying to worm itself in – a creature wriggling through, forcing itself in.

...But even still, nothing changed on the camera. It was just me.

I turned to Dr. Tolstoy and laughed.

“That's right! I always fancied myself a companion!”

I spun the extra chair a good bit. It seldom brought me joy, but being down here could be a lonesome experience. We all had our job to do and little else.

“The ETNA corporation has been kind to us. I made a note to request a companion at the next available time. After all, I had to derive happiness somewhere.

Ah, but in the meantime, I had Dr. Tolstoy.

Doors opened that were not meant to open. As it was believed, the only one with the permissions necessary was deceased. Of course, in such a line of work, the truth was more that said person was somewhere outside of space, no longer concerned with the contents within.

Ah, but I was, and I stepped through, irregardless of technological advances.

Within the confines (and they were confines, that much was a certainty), was a large laboratory, not unlike the multitude of laboratories that make the facility their home. Large cylinders filled with unknown fluids lined in rows, computer systems lined up to match each cylinder, and blueprints sprawled to indicate what each one contained. Each blueprint, with different diagrams, different formulas scattered throughout, and in various languages. Props to whoever could read such blueprints and understand the contents, but what I sought was much greater:

Within one cylinder in particular was a body of a being, once conscious, floating within the fluids. Such a creature with their head hunched over, and even still was well over ten feet tall with a thick, bulbous head and sunken eyes. Their complexion, desaturated, and limbs that resembled the limbs of trees, sprouting from their torso. There was a human-like quality to them, even if the majority of the genetic structure was far from anything of Earth.

“My Adam...” I murmured, pressing my palm against the casing. “Although we have never met, my brother, I have thought of kissing you ever since I had the memory of your existence.”

I traced my fingers across the casing, the smoothness of it soothing me.

“How unfortunate that we meet now. You, a prisoner to those you were against, and I, free to dismantle friend and foe alike.

Silk eyes told me all. I nodded, agreeing with the assessment.

“I know,” I reached out, although knowing there was little I could do. “It isn't right. There must be another way. I should respect my elders, right?”

An earful of memories rushed forward.

“I was never very good at that, I'm afraid. You see, what I seek most is not something so grandiose. I only wish to experience joy, a simple zest for life, something to justify this existence.”

“You know,” I was so casually interrupted by a voice I failed to account for. “That thing can't actually hear you.”

I turned to face the figure: a listless scholar, scientist, or student, appearing adrift in a cushioned chair and hunched onto a desk full of papers.

“Oh, of course. I was just taking the time to consider the frailty of existence, even accounting for a being of such power.”

“How did you even get in here?” Asked the bookish oaf.

“I am Dr. Oh...you know what? Forget about it.” I was too exhausted to give myself a name in this instance.

“I see. Well, if you're not supposed to be here, you'll probably be killed on sight. Maybe not. Never had a guest before, let alone an intruder, so who am I to say what will happen?”

“I came in through the door,” I explained. The very door that I should not have had access to.

At this point, the one at the desk went back to the papers. I was here for a reason, but having an audience was a treat I could resist sinking my teeth into.

“And what of you?” I pondered. Although looking toward the being in the cylinder, the question was addressed to the human.

“How did I get here or who am I?” Yawned the listless words from a tired soul.

“More, what is your purpose?” I was surprised by my ability to carry through this conversation so far.

“Ah, excellent. An all-purpose question,” The good lab rat sat up, attention now on me. “Well then, I am Dr. Lem. If you've made it here, I'm sure you already know what it is I do.”

“How much have you learned?”

“Again, if you're here --”

“So you observe this unconscious being, keep it in a stasis. Neither awake nor dead. Humor me: let's assume I don't know what those liquids are in the tube.”

“Simply put, it's bongwater.”

I stroked my chin, the same one that at one instance, whether in the past or future, wore a beard. “What strain?”

“Excuse me?”

“Indica or sativa?”

“You must already know we've been keeping this thing in an unconscious state, preserved. How else do you think we managed that?”

“That's not what I asked.”

Dr. Lem sighed. “Hybrid. It's a concentrated form of several plants, distilled into a liquid. We tried many methods to keep our subject alive and found that to be the only sufficient method.”

“Ah, that explains so much. Thank you.”

“Does it? I don't feel like I gained much from this conversation.”

My doctorate companion resigned back to the papers on the desk.

“Is this what you do when you have nothing to report on my brother?”

“My every action is monitored as well. Not much I can do, so I just find things to occupy myself. I've taken to writing a novel, for instance, as I am allowed pen and paper. I've come up with several drafts. Now if you excuse me...wait. Did you say 'my brother'?”

“It's a term of endearment. I find in some ways that the thing in the case and I are joined at the hips.”

“Every scientist, every soldier, everything with a pulse, including the facilities themselves, have a role to play. We are to stick to that role with little to no interaction unless permitted. We are monitored, though at this point I doubt it's even a human that monitors us. Artificial intelligence has become so if we do something out of line, the system will know and eliminate us well before any person does. The only reason I know this is because I am allowed to.”

“The system was offline for a few hours,” I pointed out.

“Yes. I wasn't allowed out, but even though if I tried, I may have made my escape if not for the fact that the doors were stuck shut. The one time I may have been safe to leave, and I couldn't.”

I shook my head. “Shame, really.”

“I only say all this to highlight what kind of situation I, and the others who work here, are in. Though I'm sure you're already well aware of this. Hell, all our food is made from 3D printers!”

I tapped on the casing.

“Please don't do that,” Dr. Lem scolded.

“The being you hold, they're referred to as 'the beige', correct?”

No response. Doctor was lost in the throws of creativity.

“That's a good of a name as any, I suppose. I like to call them family. Of course, I may also call you family, if it pleases you.”

“Do you mind? I'm busy writing.”

“Your magnum opus, the one no one will ever read. The thing you use to keep yourself sane. Some kind of marvelous sci-fi romp about the strangeness of memories.”

Dr. Lem leaned forward, a spark in the scientist's eyes.

“How did you know?”

“My entire life has been built on the strangeness of memories. It is said that a 'Beige' is born with the memories of all things, as I'm sure this one was, once. Imagine it, the contents of a 'hall of memories', ingrained knowledge upon birth. I can understand the interest in them.”

“Do you have an interest as well?”

“I am afraid very little interests me.”

This time, it was Lem who said, “shame, really.”

“There are qualities that a 'Beige' holds that extends past innate knowledge, of course. Molding and shifting their features in slight ways, their skin a sturdy material in which projectiles mean little to them, a hallucinogenic effect upon those in contact in them which can be used to influence others in various ways when honed.”

“I have observed similar things, yes. They're all in my notes.”

“With knowledge comes the knowledge of being able to exist near memories they have a connection with. Some may call this 'teleportation', although I would say that their methods are a little different than the ETNA Corporation's.”

“Fascinating...Is there more?”

At this point, my interest in Dr. Lem was waning, although to say there was any interest to begin with would have been a farce.

“Quite unfair, I would say. I would even go as far as to say it's cheating. But that's what things are like in the universe. We have so many powers that cheat to win that we may as well excuse this, too.”

I tapped once more.

“Could you stop that?”

I tapped harder.

“Why?” I asked as I stared at the Beige and wished they could stare back. “Will it break?”

“No...I don't think so. But the only think keeping them alive is the cannabis! If the tube were to break, they would die!”

I could see little cracks forming.

“On the contrary,” I smiled. “I think I'll be just fine.”

A little bit of this...and that...and AH! There we go!

“Are you about done?”

I tapped on the little voice box attached to me and shushed Gumby with one of my webbed fingers.

“Excuse YOU!”

“No, excuse you. I do not take well to being shushed.”

I stuck my tongue out at Gumby, who, underneath the mask of a smiling salamander lie the face of a smiling salamander.

There was a pause where both of us watched the monitor in front of us shift into a video of Frogger. Then, an announcement flashed on the screen, spoken by a representative of the World Wildlife Foundation:

“We are Lilypad: A Nonprofit Organization who seeks to enrich the lives of amphibians across the globe. Gay rights. Trans rights. Peace on Earth.”

I grinned. I believe Gumby did too. I mean, Gumby HAD to. I wrote the script!”

I hopped along the corridor, to which Gumby followed. I could sense a stench of disappointment, which meant Gumby needed a shower, like, BAD.

“Did you really have to expose the World Wildlife Foundation like that? Now The Flashbulb will go after them.”

“Not to worry, YO! We got this!”

Before us appeared an image of a tall, silver haired lady with the face of the most beautiful toad I had ever seen.

“This is Toadette. How may I assist you today?” She spoke, her voice ever so alluring.

“Toadette, really?”

“I think her name WAS Edna or something,” I shrugged, then added, “but Toadette just sounds prettier, don'tcha think? It's only temporary, anyway!”

“You changed the image and personality of an AI as well as hacking into a security system. I'm impressed.”

“YO! It's only temporary! Then she'll be REAL mad and stuff!”

Gumby growled. “Toadette, can you lead us to happiness?”

“Is that what you desire?” Toadette inquired.

“Enough with THE cryptic shit, SHEESH!” I scolded Gumby. “NAH! What we WANT is the lab! Y'KNOW? Where the FROG sterilization goo is at!”

“Ah. Just down the hall, to the right. Three rooms across.”

“So, she's going to return to her old self momentarily, then she'll want to kill us,” Gumby pointed out.

“YEAH! But what are consequences?”

We made it to our destination.

“Toadette, MY fair toady, IF you PLEASE!”

She puffed her cheeks, and the doors to the lab opened.

“Thank you! You're the BEST A.I. EVER!” I hopped as my voice box squeaked, both of us in joy.

As soon as Gumby and I made our way inside, the doors closed behind us. We could see the image of Toadette shifting back to the face of a pale, stone-faced human.

“Now, this will be where you die.”

“LAME!” I bellowed. “You were SO much cuter as a toad!”

“This fast, huh?” Gumby observed.

“I commend whatever abilities you have learned, but I am nothing if not adaptable.”

The hologram image of the lady disappeared, without me being able to admire her beauty as a toad. I pined like the lovesick fool I was.

“YO! I REALLY need a FROG girlfriend!”

“First thing's first,” Gumby reminded me, rummaging around the contents, examining every vial.

As if I was going to sit around and let Gumby take all the credit, NUH-UH. I hopped about the lab and kept my froggy eyes peeled.

“Careful not to knock anything over,” Gumby scolded. Said coward never even bothered to look my way.

We continued our search. I asked Gumby if he even knew what any of those vials contained.

“No, but there should be some documents somewhere that would point us in the right direction.”

“USELESS! USELESS! Utterly USELESS!” I hissed, or as close as a frog could get to hissing.

So continued our hopscotch across every nook and cranny. I'm talking about cupboards and counter tops alike, sinks and places hard to reach. If this was some buried treasure, or if it was in plain sight, we'd find it.

“Hey! Who's there?” Called out the gruff voice of a soldier, situated at the other end of the lab in his fancy armor with that big ol' hunk of weapon in their lap.

Gumby, with his grinning salamander face, turned to face the soldier. “I have expressed my desire to study your weaponry and armor.”

The soldier picked themselves up and aimed at us. Gumby signaled for me to do the ol' tongue-twister, which means exactly what you think it does: I flung my tongue forward and wrapped it around the soldier and the chair, twisting and constricting until I was sure the soldier couldn't move.

“Sit still,” Gumby commanded.

“It burns!” The soldier screeched.

“Yes, Polo is a poison dart frog-person.”

“My tongue is good for ALL SORTS of things!” I added.

“How did that thing say that?”

Really? 'That thing'?

I pointed to my voice box and scowled.

“Right. How convenient.”

“Now,” Gumby commanded. “You will tell us everything we need to know.”

The soldier nodded.

“First of all, were you aware of our existence?”

Gumby tossed me a knife and I caught it. I raised it against the soldier's neck.

“Are you aware about this? You better not be,” I threatened.

“We were told a group would be trying to steal from us, we just didn't imagine what that group would be!” The soldier gasped.

“Even still, if you were aware, you should have been better prepared. Why would your military allow us to so easily make a mockery of you?”

I inched the knife closer.

“Because simply put, we don't care!” Even as the soldier said this, I could tell the 'we' didn't apply to the one in the chair. I could smell the panic from where I was situated.

“The base you so thoroughly destroyed has been reconstructed! We didn't prepare an ambush there because we knew what you were after! Even with your skills, did you really think we would give it up? It's gone!”

Gumby looked at me, to which I looked back. Both of us, in shock.

“Gone?”

The soldier shook their head, helmet not allowing much of a range of motion.

“You were never going to get it. Now you are trapped in this room and reinforcements will show up to massacre you.”

Gumby walked forward and pressed his third arm, which was really a multitude of tiny arms at this point, against the soldier's helmet. Even behind the grinning facade, I could tell Gumby was pissed AS FUCK.

“Where is it now? We need it to achieve our amphibious paradise.”

“Who knows? Another base, another facility. Somewhere in another state, or even just a few miles away. Maybe another country. Maybe some thousand miles underwater.”

Gumby groaned.

“You think we're going to kill you, yes?”

“Doesn't matter. Not like my life means any more than anyone else's here.”

Gumby chuckled, lifting up his mask and revealing the grinning salamander underneath. He reached into his labcoat pocket and pulled out a tiny vial.

“I never managed to reproduce it. I was hoping that if we obtained your organization's concoction to sterilize all amphibians that I could reverse engineer it. Alas, all I have is this sample from when I made myself who I am today: the next evolutionary step in mankind.

He lifted the soldier's helmet. I never even caught a glimpse of the soldier's face. All I could see was Gumby forcing the contents of the vial down the soldier's throat.

“This may kill you, yet. But if it doesn't, you shall become like one of us.”

I let go of the soldier and hopped away, the soldier now having lost consciousness. Gumby retreated back to the other side of the lab where we entered and slammed his fists against the counters.

“Marco led us right into a trap!” He bellowed.

“Well, DUH!” I retorted. “He DID say that we would be doing just what The Flashbulb expected us to!”

“No, but he must have known what we were looking for wouldn't be here!”

“Again, DUH! Bro tends to know these things!”

Gumby paused.

“That reminds me, I've always wondered how it was you two were able to communicate.”

“AH! The question that never needed answering!” I beamed. “Like Han and Chewie! Like Rocket and Groot!”

“We're going to be surrounded soon. Our odds aren't looking too great. Could you please just indulge me?”

“Yeah, DUDE! So, like, I think he explained it to me once, LIKE, he knew my memories!”

“That...doesn't register.”

“It's like mind reading, sorta, I guess? Memories of the past, present, and future. He says he's got 'em, they're just a bit jumbled, like jelly beans!”

“How is that possible? Some item he uses?”

“I don't know, YO!”

“Even though I met him before you, you know him better than I do.”

“Yeah, but not MUCH! All's I can say is trickery is par for the course!”

“Right. He did tell me he may lose interest in our goal. He also refused to become one of us.”

“YUP! Who IS he? FROG? HUMAN? NAH! More like a TREE! Or a SLIME!”

“You know, those are different things.”

“He's a MUSHROOM!”

Gumby drew a deep breath. “Is that really what Marco is?”

I shrugged. “Beats me! He's OUT of this WORLD, YO!”

“There may be something to that if he was in the city where Kelly Roger was and he managed to get here. Oh, what I would give to dissect him piece by piece and figure out just what he really is.”

“Good LUCK, YO! Dude's a tricky one!”

“Did he say what he was going to do here, by the way?”

I put my webbed hand on my mouth, tongue sticking out, and pondered.

“Said something about devouring his brother, but that could be anybody. You know how he is with calling everyone his sibling.”

“Right. Then he plans to devour Euphoria as well.”

Gumby let out a deep barrel of a laugh.

“Never did I imagine that Marco and I would end up opposing each other, but it looks like we still share the same goal after all.

I licked my nostril.

“POLO-YOLO! What's the plan now?”

Gumby placed his mask back on his face. “If we can find Euphoria before Marco, we can achieve happiness and create a paradise where everyone is a frog person.”

“Sounds good, YO!”

“I just wonder what it is Marco would want with Euphoria...”

“To experience happiness, YO! DUH!”

Before we could continue our talk of my 'brother' and his zany schemes, we both heard the thunderous clatter of footsteps. Gumby looked around and my eyes followed his until we both saw a vent in the ceiling. Gumby pointed toward said vent.

“Polo, OUT!” I darted and leaped into the vent, leaving Gumby behind. With so many weapons and explosives sure to appear, I should have been more worried for the guy, but I knew him well enough.

“Contact the World Wildlife Foundation as soon as you get the chance,” Gumby instructed. “Let them know of Marco's betrayal.”

“We are Lilypad: A Nonprofit Organization who seeks to enrich the lives of amphibians across the globe. Gay rights. Trans rights. Peace on Earth.”

The words flashed on my screen as I watched, wishing I had a cup of coffee.

“Dr. Tolstoy, what do you make of this?”

“I think it should go away soon. Our systems are good at clearing these kinds of things. This little 'Lilypad' group is just a distraction.”

“I agree, Dr. Tolstoy. By now, our base should have been recovered and our faculty remade. Such a glorious thing to behold, I simply cannot wait!”

“Ah, Dr. Chekhov, I wonder if Sgt. Michaels has a thicker mustache now.”

I knew there was no Dr. Tolstoy, but I needed someone to bounce ideas off of.

“Not just our previous faculty, but a couple more as well. Even a member of 'Lilypad' will soon be one of us. Won't it be lovely to have a toad in our employ?”

“Quite! By the way, Dr. Chekhov, I think we ought to check in on the outside world. Particularly the city where the first ETNAvator was installed.”

I did just what Dr. Tolstoy asked of me and switched one of my monitors to display said city. Sights of destruction glared at the screen as buildings burned, crumbled, and citizens crashing every which way.

“Oh my. Wonder what could have happened here.”

I zoomed in on some of the citizens, who were ranting and raving about how they were so happy meanwhile doing such self-destructive acts like swinging from telephone poles. Police officers were running around, shooting others without discretion, announcing how happy they were to murder without impunity.

“Looks like there has been a flaw in the system,” I mentioned.

“Yes, Dr. Chekhov. We knew of the possibility of error when the elevators were introduced.”

“Yes, Dr. Tolstoy. Although only a .01% chance of this occurring, here it is. Everyone feeling the effects of Euphoria to such a degree.”

In spite of the pandemonium, there was little cause for concern.

“Soon this will spread,” I mentioned. “If something doesn't get done, Etna might soon find herself out of a job.”

“That's the problem when you let a string of code run a department; who takes the blame?

Laughter erupted from the room.

“Ah, but we should be fine! The underground facility is protected from the effects of ETNA's machinations so long as none of the copies comes into contact with those working below.”

I looked back at the devastation that was the city. If such a thing could happen there and spreads, it was only a matter of time before the faculty of the base also started feeling such things. Knowing what we were dealing with, the effects could take hold any moment.

“As soon as we execute Velvet and Mavis, all will be better,” I reclined in my chair, telling myself those words. I turned to the empty chair beside me. “So what if everyone ends up killing themselves? If we can recreate our faculty, who's to say we can't recreate entire populations? All we have to do is take the time to make sure these new folks don't overload themselves.”

Yes, all would be well. Maybe a little chaos for now, but perfection wasn't built overnight. All would be accounted for. That I could still remind myself of that simple fact left a smile on my face.

#happiness overload #jeez this took me like two months #im so sorry #also I havent done much proofreading so this post may be edited several times #scifi #comedy #dark #writing #fiction #still posting these chapters to tumblr until I make a wordpress even tho I know tumblr is shit now #oh well

[zahra-kha]

Dear Diary 20

Gail’s party was a blast!

I wasn’t able to give Ceci her present, but everyone else was there, so I was happy I was able to hand out everyone else’s! And there were so many people that showed up! I was stunned. I didn’t think she had invited so many people. It was nice.

I missed being able to just hang out and enjoy being around my friends. Joking and playing around - not worrying about anything in particular. I think sometimes that’s needed. We immediately got on the drinking and I soon found myself pretty tipsy. It was a nice atmosphere, since Gail’s place felt so warm and inviting.

This was my first ever Starlight, so I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but it was surprisingly tame. Lights, good food, drink, and company. No crazy games or fighting. We did fight later, which was fun!

I met Jordan who I remembered meeting before. She gave me a whole bottle of rum. Thank you Jordan! I was about...a quarter of the way through it when the others came downstairs? I’d say when it comes to drinking I’m about average. I’m not a light weight, but I’m not a heavy weight either. I will get drunk if you give me a good amount of booze. And I get weird. Or something.

I got to properly tease some folks, like Jasper, whose only evidence of holiday spirit was a hat. The more inebriated I became the more I felt like some sort of cat wanting to pap at the pom on that hat of his. It was so bright and there! He’s like in all brown and then BAM. Bright white hat. That pom was begging to be papped!

Also Jasper, I need you to shrink 2-4ilms please. You’re too damned tall. Actually, all tall people can just shrink to my size. Please and thanks. I’m going to wish for that for next Starlight. All tall people please become a tolerable height. My neck hurts.

And just throwing this out there: Quin and Erith make such an adorable couple. I mean, they’re weird, but that makes it even cuter and more fitting. I’m not going to forgive Quin for double booking a date though. I’m only not judging him as harshly because they got each other really great gifts and seem to genuinely care for one another.

Speaking of gifts! I got some really amazing ones from people! From Trystan - oh. He said mine wasn’t a Starlight present though? But it was a really nice gift, I’m not sure why he wasn’t counting it as one. Hm. Well, anyway, he had crafted me some chakrams that I could use for sparring. I think he also had a matching blade. He remembered back when I had first joined the group and I had been hesitant about fighting others. I’m not so much anymore, I’ve come out of my shell a lot since then, but I’m really happy he remembered that and made those for me. Now I can properly spar without holding back or deeply injuring my friends.

I mean sure, I could do that regardless, but coming out of every spar bloody and torn to shreds isn’t exactly practical now is it? You can still test your limits without tearing your opponent to shreds. At least until a fight club or a tournament.

Anyway, I was a bit into my feelings thanks to the drink so I started crying. I didn’t think he would have remembered all that, and even if he had, I didn’t think he’d go out of his way to do something like that for me. I was happy, but a little upset he’d gone out of his way too. I think I confused poor Trystan! Which is fair, I would have been confused too! Sorry, Trystan! I really did love the gift!

Maybe I should have warned him I’m a bit of an emotional drunk. Eh, he knows now!

Erith gave me amazing soap which I’m so excited about! I don’t use a lot of perfumes unless it’s a performance night. Normally, I like to just use oils, soaps, and lotions because those are great for natural scents and they’re good for the skin. Erith’s soaps smell really great and the one I’ve used was really nice! He could easily start a business if he wanted!

Quin got me...a box of condoms. I. I just.

They’re a gift so I refuse to throw them out but I just. I was so embarrassed I could have died. What am I supposed to do with these? I’ve never even...UGH. I’m not dating anyone! And I’m definitely not the type to go sleeping around! Godsdamnit Quin! The only thing that made me feel better is that he gave the same gift to everyone.

I also think a small part of me died when Trystan just unrolled his asking “What are these?” I-

Anyway, Tala got me a coupon for a wolf pup from the Gridanian Little Howler kennel! I think it’s ran by Ixal? Oh and a neat glove that has a neat little knife that can flip out if I hit a switch. Good for a stabbin if someone sneak attacks!

I think Tala was really worried about those potential robbers going about here. I’m thankful though, a wolf pup is just what I needed. I can raise him to be a great companion to travel with and when I know I won’t be gone long, he can take care of the apartment for me. Maybe I’ll ask Tala or someone who’s free to come with me to take a look before I pick one out!

Vin gave me a...baku? Charm and a journal. I already have this one and I’m going to keep it, but I think this one he gave me is one that we’ll share with each other next Starlight. So I think what I’ll do is I’ll chronicle my adventures with the others in that book. I’ll call that one ‘Zahra’s Adventures!’ This one will just remain as my diary.

Gail gave me a beautiful scroll with song lyrics upon it. I’m going to find a good spot to hang it in my apartment.

Tamala got me a beautiful amethyst anklet! I really do love anklets so I’m excited to wear it around!

We changed (We as in me, Tamala, and a few others who had got gussied up) and went down to the beach to spar! Quin snagged Trystan and I to spar with him and Jasper. Funnily enough it ended up being me and Quin vs Trystan and Jasper, which was fine by me! I’d wanted to fight those two anyway!

I don’t know what it is with me being drunk - maybe it’s because I’m just letting myself fight without thinking - but I ended up doing pretty good! Knocked Trystan out of the fight, but Jasper sneaked attacked me and I was done. Then he went in for the kill on Quin. He went for the back of my knees twice! I’ll remember that...

While we were fighting there was something going on about ass charts. I wasn’t paying too close attention, but looks like Trystan had his own evaluation and opinions about Tala’s ass! Someone’s been looking!

I got scolded by Gail a little about the fight with Discordia and how it seemed like I wasn’t taking what happened to me seriously. Or maybe I was taking it too lightly. I mean, I get that she had to heal the muscles back onto my legs. That had to have been horrible to see. I feel bad about that. I feel bad Gail had to go through that experience. I don’t want my friends to ever have to see my body mangled or broken or torn up like that. I don’t want to see my friends like that.

It’s not like it doesn’t bother me. Everyday I wake up and look at my body, at these scars, and I have to tell myself I’m just as beautiful as I was before I got burned. And that’s...harder. Than it was before. Burn marks aren’t beautiful. My skin looks tight and discolored. Anyone can take a good look and tell they’re there.

But what...can I do about it? What would getting angry do? Should I be angry with Discordia for bringing her all to a fight? For not holding back? The Plume’s rules are pretty clear, if I didn’t want the risk, I could have stopped going at any time. Should I scream and cry because my body doesn’t look like a flawless dancer’s body anymore?

I hate getting upset over things I can’t change. I hate crying over things that I can’t do anything about. If I can spend my energy doing that, I can focus it on other things, like finding a way to look at my body and be happy again.

And...one way I was thinking was henna. I could cover my scars in henna. I can’t erase what’s been done, but I can move forward instead of looking back. That’s just who I am. Maybe Tala knows some henna artists around here.

#zahra's diary #ic

[theworstbob]

yellin’ at songs, week 26

capsule reviews of the songs which debuted on the 7 July 2017 and 8 July 2017 editions of the billboard hot 100

7.7.2007

61) "Lost," Faith Hill

"With everything I have doesn't mean a thing if it's without you." I. Don't know what that means? I could stare at some of these lyrics and not really understand what's happening other than I'm supposed to believe in love and all its power, which is probably the most we can expect out of a late-career Faith Hill song. It's not great, but, y'know, just as I feel weird about trying to assess Fifth Harmony songs, I feel like Faith Hill songs are reaching for that Aunt With Too Many Inspirational Quote Pillows demographic, and I have to respect the choice she had made to service this demographic. This was someone's third wedding song, and I think that's beautiful. (Also, credit where credit's due, Kara DioGuardi co-wrote a song I tolerated.)

65) "Never Wanted Nothing More," Kenny Chesney

This is a weird one. Because it's Kenny Chesney, but it's also Chris Stapleton, but it's also Chris Stapleton writing a Kenny Chesney song. It's complicated. Like, you look at Kanye West's early discography, you see names you know, Jermaine Dupri, Goodie Mob, Lil' Kim, Nas, Alicia Keys, you see respectable names, you can see how the songs Kanye produced would fit into the greater Kanye catalogue. There's a difference, of course, between production and writing, but early Kanye doesn't feel like producer-for-hire. This song is written so outside the voice I've come to associate with Chris Stapleton that I can't imagine him ever writing it. Like, this song fits in with the Chris Stapleton origin story because it shows Chris Stapleton has been doing this thing for a long time and was good at it, but that's the only way it fits. This is just a Kenny Chesney song that Chris Stapleton happened to write, whereas "Izzo" is a Jay-Z song with a Kanye beat. Country music's weird as hell, man. I ain't gonna get it.

69) "Dance Tonight," Paul McCartney

it's gotta be pretty nuts to know that your status as one of the greatest songwriters of all time is so secure that there is absolutely nothing you could do to remove yourself from that pedestal. Like, the only reason I can find for a song like this (read: a bad one) being made from a dude at this level is, he was bored and wanted to see if people would call it an extraordinary songwriting feat if he just dropped a track like "it's nice when people have fun!"

74) "Let It Go," Keyshia Cole ft./Missy Elliott & Lil Kim

Pretty good! A little subdued for my taste, a little too restrained for a song about letting go, but I think we've talked about how I'm not naturally drawn to R&B simply because the genre is so subdued and restrained, so it's probably my own fault I'm not as into this song as I feel I should be. Like, I like all the names involved, I thnk Keyshia Cole was a pretty decent singer, I like the ingredients of the song, but someone put them together with a different palette than mine in mind. Ugh, and that's just the worst, how the world doesn't make enough things for white males to enjoy. This song, though, I think it's a'ight! I have no complaints about it specifically!

91) "How Do I Breathe," Mario

...i swear i've heard this exact same r&b song at least twice, though. like, "let it go" had missy on the track, it was cool. this is another song about a man who is sad his girlfriend left him and wishes she would come back. mario's a more engaging vocalist than the joes and tanks of 2007, like i'd like to hear him sing a better song, but... man, this week is just songs i didn't need to hear, and not in the sense that pop music is bad and i shouldn't try to listen to this much of it, more that 2007 just kinda said, "hey, here's some shit you've already heard from us, have fun." i feel i don't need to have an opinion on this song because i've already had an opinion on some stargate joint or another, y'know?

97) "Doomsday Clock," Smashing Pumpkins

hey speaking of unnecessary, another smashing pumpkins song! and not even one i need to begrudgingly admit is good, this one is the thing i expected smashing pumpkins to sound like, billy corgan nasally whining about some bullshit or another while the guitar plods along dutifully. nothing here is innovative, nothing here takes smashing pumpkins and frames it in a new light for me, this is just a song that exists. these songs all exist.

Well, obviously, since we’re hitting the halfway point, we’re gonna be doing something special! ...Or I would forget how to count and not realize this was the halfway point. Anyway, no Top 20s because nothing changed. 2017!

8 July 2017

4) "Wild Thoughts," by DJ Khaled ft./Rihanna & Bryson Tiller

I don't believe anything Bryson Tiller says on this song. My understanding of Bryson Tiller was that he was a simpering sad boy who sang about his feelings, so when he comes on a track where he a) has to present himself as an equal to Rihanna and b) has to make the argument that he is a worthy sexual partner for Rihanna, it's hard to take him seriously, because all he's done before suggests he's not this person. Like, someone thought of Bryson Tiller was the answer to the question "Who could make Rihanna think wild thoughts?" and that's just amazing to me. Literally anyone else would have been better. Are we not ready to lean so fully into the Latin trend that we'll give Luis Fonsi a starring role in a DJ Khaled song? Are we just this over Miguel? Hell, we know from "Run Up" that PARTYNEXTDOOR's capable of being occasionally interesting, why not him! This song could've been something, but man, that Bryson Tiller feature sinks it.

51) "Feels," by Calvin Harris ft./Pharrell Williams, Katy Perry & Big Sean

I appreciate the work Calvin Harris puts in to making pop music funky again, I think he's aware there's a direct line in music history from him to The Chainsmokers and he's doing his best to distance himself from that, but there's a limit to how much I can enjoy a song with the line "I know you're not afraid to catch feels with me." Like, this is another good song, Calvin Harris has been doing work this spring/early summer, it's just, one of them has to be the worst, and it's this one with its tumblr-ass hook. I wish I had a more legit reason to not be into this song. Nope. It's just that one word. I don't even necessarily mind that word, it's just, an entire song built around that word isn't a party I wanna attend.

61) "First Day Out," by Kodak Black

Nope!

83) "Relationship," by Young Thug ft./Future

Comparing Young Thug to the other dudes in his genre is like comparing a wasp to a group of bumblebees. They're sort of the same thing, but Young Thug is so much different and fearsome. ...This isn't his best song? This is the song you'd expect to chart off the album given the pedigree, but also, it isn't, because there's so many other, better songs on the album? But we should be evaluating this song for what it is, not what it isn't. "I put my dick inside her mouth before she act." Neat! Of all the many things Young Thug is, he is not perfect.

89) "Feel it Still," by Portugal. The Man

I AM IN FAVOR OF ALL THE BRASS 2017 HAS GIVEN ME THIS YEAR. The only instance of a brass instrument I remember from 2007 is the "Get Buck" beat, and I am so thrilled with the occasional blasts on this song. It's a fun song by a band I know I've heard about at some point but didn't expect to see here. I thought Portugal. The Man was ponderous indie nonsense, but yo, if they got one of these in them, I'm down to see what else they got. It's weird when it turns out bands everyone says is good make good songs. Like, what happened to bands like the Arcade Fire, who just whined monotonously over jingle-jangling?

100) "Real Hitta," by Piles ft./Kodak Black

...Are you. Guys. Are you serious? Piles? PIIIIIIILES? Of all the fucking. So many rappers hit in 2007, and the one y'all dredged up to make the Deacde Dance Club, literally the week I introduce that as a thing, is maybe the worst one, the one whose name I didn't even bother to spell right, I thought he was so yesterday. I'm not gonna listen to it for what I hope are obvious reasons, but that doesn't mean we can't jump into the AZ Lyrics page. "All that ass she got back there startin' to look like a Pamper" This is the least sexy way to describe a butt since "My Humps." "Sex game undefeated, think I'm 100-0" ...Has Piles only fucked 100 times? I mean. Hey, nothin' wrong with that, I'm not here to prude shame anyone or promote promiscuity or whatever, but even in the last 10 years, 3,650 days, Piles has only fucked once every five weeks or so? Or is he just on a winning streak, like, that's how many times in a row he's ejaculated? (I'm assuming he's not bragging that, every time he has sex, he makes the woman cum. I don't think Piles has ever had a woman's pleasure in mind when setting about his business.) This is a bizarre boast. "Biggest thing he ever did for you was take you to Chili's." ...Okay. Okay, that's pretty good. "That lil pussy was so sorry, I call it minimum wage." You know what fuck it I'll take gross political commentary. Piles had two lines I enjoyed out of the context of the song! There may be hope for all of us y -- oh right Kodak Black "I'ma come through, and I'ma fuck ya like the police lookin' for me" Well, that's about as tone deaf as I expected, alright, well, there's hope for some of us.

Decade Dance Party

...Um. 31) Piles We said that it’s hard to have two hits ten years apart. What this list presupposes is... What if it isn’t?

Who Won the Week?

A few weeks ago, there was like a three-year stretch where the Houston Texans and the Cincinatti Bengals would play each other in the football playoffs. They were boring games and bad to watch, and while the Bengals and Texans were good enough to have made the playoffs, it kinda sucked that one of the two got to go to the next round while a different, more fun team to watch gets eliminated, or was left out of the playoffs entirely. “Feel It Still” is a fine song and is definitely better than “Let it Go,” but like. “Feel it Still” shouldn’t be the champion for the week. I dunno, kinda meh for both weeks, 2017 takes it because I don’t think “Feel it Still” should get demerits for all the Kodak Black I didn’t listen to. So.

2017: 14 2007: 12

Next week, 2007 is giving us what is indisputably greater than all The Beatles songs put together. (I linked to that specific post because gosh that dude adding his two cents at the end is the reason op exists.) But will it be better than the alt-country song and the indie-rock song I for some reason ranked over “Umbrella?” ONLY TIME WILL TELL.

[itscupcakesandcookies]

Prompt: when did you feel alienated?

My parents insist on having a big family meal on 'special' birthdays- the big birthdays, you know, 11, 13, 16, 18, 21 etc- the milestone birthdays. So the weekend before my 18th we were all crammed into the back corner of a relatively cheap restaurant. My Mother, Papa, little brother and I; four of five aunts, three of seven uncles, seven of ten cousins, a second cousin, my grandad and an aunt's boyfriend. Twenty one. Twenty one people crammed into one corner of a restaurant. You can imagine the noise of six gossiping women, six vocal under twelves and three excitable teen boys. The rest of us had relatively quiet inside voices or barely spoke at all (Myself and an uncle that had just come out of hospital and didn't really know anyone). Now, I'm not great when surrounded by more than four people. My social skills are a little brash at the best of times and I don't really say much at all- especially when surrounded by vocal people. Everyone around me was having a great time, laughing and joking, marvelling at the fantastic Steampunk top hat cake my mother had made and enjoying their meals. Meanwhile, I'm doing my best to not dribble or accidentally stab myself in the face with my fork (It's easier to do than one might think). After we had all eaten our fill, Mother decided to recruit my aunty Paula as the photographer as she wanted to record as much of my 18th as possible. And so my aunt slowly made her way round the tables taking selfies with everyone who would stay still. I don't like having my picture taken. I don't like having my picture taken. I Don't Like Having My Picture Taken. I was already feeling uncomfortable and insecure in this social situation; and when I'm uncomfortable my insecurities and anxieties are intensified. So throughout the entire meal I had a little voice in my head, whispering "Don't slouch, it adds ten pounds of flab. Put less on your fork so you don’t dribble. Eat faster! You're going to make everyone wait for deserts! Ugh! look at you, shovelling food down your throat, pig!! Mother bought you up better than this. I can't leave any food, I don't want to waste money. You're gonna eat the whole plate? No wonder you can't fit into any jeans, Fatty. Am I being ignorant by not talking to anyone. Ew! No! Don't speak with your mouth full! Am I being too quiet? Am I being too opinionated? They didn't care about that random bit of trivia, just don’t speak.” Needless to say, by the time Paula got to me with her camera my anxiety level was probably at about 68%. But the little voice wasn't deterred by the encouraging smile given by my aunt, oh no. "Remember that Eastenders quote from 7 years ago that said 'red should only be worn by slim women'? You're not slim, why are you even trying? A bad hair day can’t be sorted by pulling everything back into a braided headband? Now your giant, spotty forehead is on display and you can't hide from Anyone!! You really want your asymmetrical brows and eyeliner to be remembered for the remainder of time? Honestly, you’re not and never will be camera ready." Anxiety level at 88% But Paula insisted, so I agreed as long as I got to take the picture. It took a few attempts but eventually we got one that didn't make me want to rush to a plastic surgeon. My mother hates having her picture taken just as much- if not more so- than I do. But again, my aunt insisted that we have a picture together. Neither of us had control of the camera. Anxiety level at 91% The first picture was of us both stiffly posed, tight lipped with barely-there-smiles. The following pictures were a progression of ‘do we really have to do this?’ side glances, Mother giving me a manic grin to ease the discomfort of being in front of a lens and finally (my favourite picture) the both of us laughing together. I asked if that could be the last photo. Which is when my Grandad jumps in with a "Come take a photo with me, Lauren". Anxiety level at 100%. Please note that I have been living across the road from this man for 18 years and I only see him when he drives me to and from college. I barely know this man and he wanted me to sit on his lap to have a photo taken. I am 18 and far too old for that to be a normal photo. It's not that I didn't want to have my photo taken with him, I just didn't want to have my photo taken. "Get a little bit closer, Lauren... Smile, Lauren!" ABORT ABORT!!! ANXIETY LEVELS OFF THE CHART!!! MALFUNCTION!! RETREAT RETREAT!! DO NOT PROCEED WITH ANY SOCIAL INTERACTION!!! I REPEAT, DO NOT PROCEED WITH ANY SOCIAL INTERACTION!!!! The resulting picture was an old, grinning, fat man next to a frumpy teen looking like she'd rather be doing the Hula in a meat bikini, surrounded by a pride of starving lions. As soon as the camera was lowered, I made a run for the toilets. I spent about twenty minutes, curled up on a toilet seat in a smelly cubicle, sobbing as quietly as possible, wondering why on earth I couldn't function like a normal human being for just a couple of hours. This was supposed to be a day of celebration. I should be grateful. Instead I was sat alone in a bacteria box, hiding from all my relatives and loved ones, wishing I could be someone else. I succumbed to the little voice. 'You can't even go four hours without crying, you giant baby!' 'Idiot' 'Grandad probably thinks I hate him now' 'Honestly you're just pathetic.' 'I'm making a mess of my makeup' 'I look awful in all those photos' 'I should have smiled more' 'Why can't I be like them?' 'Iv'e been so rude all day' 'Shut up' 'They probably think i'm ridiculous' 'Selfish' 'I hate that I do this' 'Pathetic' 'I should have made more of an effort' 'Moron' 'I'm being ridiculous' 'Shutup' 'Would it really have been SOOOO hard to just smile more?' 'Why am i causing so much trouble' 'What's wrong with me' 'Why am I like this?' 'Stop being so sensitive!!' 'It's just a photo' 'Ugh, my hair is so bad today' 'Stupid' 'Why am I even crying?' 'Why is this bothering me so much?' 'I hate this' 'I'm so insensitive!' 'Am I broken?' 'Why can't I just be normal?' 'Why do I feel like this' 'I don't deserve to feel sorry for myself' 'JUST SHUTUP!!' "Lauren? Are you in here?" "Yeah, Sophie, I'm here." "Oh... You've been gone a while, we were wondering where you were" "Sorry... I'll be right out." Brilliant. I made a ten year old worry about my well being. What a way to celebrate.

#writing #writing prompt #alienation #my writing #anxiety #birthday #unhappy birthday #writing exercise #family #me #crying