#Anyway these tags were an overview of how my brain works and the thoughts that go around my head when I spend four hours animating a thing

[janamensch]

Xiiki!!! She’s my favourite, is it obvious?

[rainydaysofspring]

YES!

So, I decided to put those two together and change it up a bit, since they fit really well. 

Request 1: Can you do a fic where Ethan and MC are married and the inters find out? 

Request 2: Ethan proposing to F! MC

Honestly I don't feel very confident about this one. 

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey X MC (Dr. Liliana Summers) 

Trigger Warnings: None

Word Count: 1009

Tag-List: @ethandaddyramsey​ @catchinglikekerosene

If you want to be added or removed from my Tag-List, please let me know.

He was nervous, to say the least. After everything they've been through, he just wanted to make it right. Wanted to ask her the one question he'd never thought he'd ask.

Ethan stood in his kitchen, cooking his Georgian stuffed chicken. He felt his pocket, making sure the little box was where it was supposed to be. He put the chicken in the oven, preparing the table. Ethan told Liliana he'd have a surprise for dinner, hopefully, she didn't have any clue on what he planned. Not being in his element at all, he struggled a bit to decorate the table, when they invited people over, she did the decorating stuff. But he wanted to make it perfect. So, here he is, candles in his hands, debating where to place them. He settled for the middle of the table, together with the roses he bought.

A while later, he heard their apartment door open and close again, followed by Liliana yelling out she was home. Ethan rushed out of the kitchen, to avoid her seeing the table and what he was cooking.

"Hey you," she said, as Ethan came up to her kissing her. "I'm so hungry, and it smells so good in here. What did you cook?" she asked, curious as to what magic her boyfriend worked in their kitchen again. "Chicken. You wanna eat right away or jump under the shower first?" he asked. "I'll just shower and put on something other than those scrubs." Liliana decided and went off to the bathroom.

While she showered, he did the final touches on the chicken, putting it onto plates as he heard the water being turned off. A few minutes later, Liliana strolled into their dining area, wearing jeans and a simple button-up blouse. She was barefoot and her hair was braided into a French braid. When Liliana first saw their dining table, she let out a small gasp of awe. "Did you decorate this yourself?" she asked as Ethan brought their plates. "I did." he simply said. Even though he didn't want to admit it, but his plan for the evening made him nervous. As soon as Liliana had the first bite of the chicken, she closed her eyes, taking in how good that tasted. "Wow. It's so good." She stated.

After they ate their food, Ethan took his girlfriends hand and led her to the window front, holding her close as they watched over the Skyline of Boston, illuminated by lights from the apartments of other people.

At some point, Ethan realized that the moment wasn't going to get more perfect for what he planned, so he got down on one knee, taking his girls hand and turning her to look at him instead of the skyline of Boston. Out of his pocket, he pulled the box and opened it. Liliana's Eyes clicked at the ring sitting in the box, her brain only slowly registered what was going on in this moment.

Ethan cleared his throat before he started speaking: "I never thought I'd someday be able to do this, let alone to do this with you. When we first met, you were nothing more than another annoying intern. But you were the one that didn't give up when I told them off. You were the one that never, even when I ran, stopped trying. So, when the time was right, I decided to go for it. Liliana, you were the one that made things possible for me, which I thought were never in the cards for my life. This made me realize that I can't imagine growing old with anyone else, nor do I want to. And that is why I'm doing this tonight, asking you, Liliana Mae Summers: Do you want to marry me? " Tears of joy rolled down her face, as she gave him the fastest answer she ever gave someone: "YES! Yes, yes, yes!"

Ethan took her finger and put the ring on it, getting up and hugging her tight.

The next day, Liliana woke up laying on Ethan Chest. She stared at her ring, realizing it was real, that she didn't just dream it. The amazing, rose-golden ring was crowned by a round opal, which sat in the middle of two other crystals. She smiled to herself.

Her smile only faltered, when the loud noise of their alarm clock rang through the room. This would be an interesting day at work.

Later, when she got to Edenbrook, she first went to the diagnostics office, to get an overview of their cases for today. After morning rounds with the interns and her residents, she went on about her day, almost forgetting the event that occurred.

Later, when she got her first break of the day, her friends strolled into the room, talking about their patients and other stuff. Sienna smiled widely, looking at the young attending in expectation. Liliana decided to speak up and tell them. "Guys, I've got something to tell you about." she started, noticing the quite panicked look on everyone's face. "Did you get in trouble again?" Elijah asked. "No, I didn't, I'm not always creating catastrophes," she replied. "Anyways, what I wanted to tell you: Ethan and I got engaged, we're gonna get married!" she said, putting her hand to her chest showing them the ring. Sienna let out a high pitched scream, probably making everyone in the room lose their hearing temporarily." So, I know where dolphins, but still, could we stop screaming like that? " Liliana laughed. After the initial shock of them died down, they all hugged her, wishing her well, being happy with her. "He liked it, so he put a ring on it, huh?" Jackie asked playfully, making Liliana laugh even more. "Damn right, he put a ring on it!" she exclaimed, twirling her hand.

Bryce came up next, crushing her in one of his typical Lahela-Hugs, saying "Shit just got real, huh?" and Liliana happily nodded. Shit just got real, but she wouldn't want it any other way.

[concealeddarkness13]

Powerpoint for Metalblood!

Tagging: @ravenpuffwriter​, @ratracechronicler​, and @nightskywriter​!

I’ve decided that this story is actually part of the Isolation Story universe. I don’t know some things about this story, but I’d like to post the Powerpoint anyway! Here’s the introduction post for this story. And here’s the Powerpoint for my Isolation Story (since these stories are connected).

[Image Description: a title page reading: Metalblood!

AKA: The story that I thought up because of a dream, and now it is part of the Isolation Story’s universe. End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Overview

Group of humans and aliens on a weird planet

An apocalyptic event supposedly happened about a hundred years ago, but no one knows anything about it

A decent amount of technology (cameras, cars, robots, airships), but no one has been able to figure out how to put machinery on or in humans (so no prosthetics)

Don’t know tons about the world yet. End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Spoilery Overview

Some of the people on the planet that some aliens destroyed (the planet destruction that caused the conquering humans to want to conquer) were taken from the planet before it was destroyed

These aliens brought the humans to this planet

The humans have no idea about that anymore (probably some of the Hebi aliens erased everything), and anything that has information about the apocalypse is kept away so no one can read it

These aliens randomly take people

Two kids were able to escape from this (Kai and Xanth), after Xanth figured out how to put a machine in a person’s brain, and Kai agreed to him putting the machine in her brain; they took something that erased their memory so that they could never explain how it happened

The aliens are pissed that Xanth figured out how to put machinery in a person (they’ve been sabotaging everything so no one ever figured it out), and they want to take Kai back

Kai has no idea about this at all

Also, sometimes a few of Hebi’s species comes and takes a few people to eat and use their mind tricks on (not in that order), and somehow Kai’s machine can also block their powers. End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Kai

Was taken in by Mikeal after she lost her memory

Mikeal uses her to fix his airship

Has a machine in her brain that points out machines and parts, and helps her know how to fix them or get them to do what she wants

She decides that she wants to see the world (and she’s curious about the apocalyptic event), so she leaves Mikeal behind and runs around stealing things to get enough to travel

Super nonchalant

Became best friends with Taeo, and he’s the only one she trusts to help her when she wants to steal something big

Of course she’s sarcastic

She wears an old hat that has the logo of an old nature preserve on it that she found in Mikeal’s airship. End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Xanth

He also doesn’t remember his past

He was taken in by a nice, wealthy couple who really wanted children but couldn’t, so they adopted him instead

He’s fascinated by machines and loves figuring out how they work

When he meets Kai (who’s pretending to be a wealthy person to pull off a huge theft), they both feel some kind of connection (please refer to the spoilery overview)

Curious, passionate, and serious (he’s not going to understand Kai’s sarcasm). End Description]

[Image Description: a paged titled: Lia

While Kai is trying to steal something big from a wealthy person, Lia, who is also a wealthy person, hires her to steal something else

That something requires Kai to pretend that she’s Lia’s friend and mingle with all the wealthy people (this is how she meets Xanth)

Lia recognizes her as the “girl with metal in her blood”, and half hired her just to see her work

She’s crafty, but she’s not a bad person, but she does enjoy messing with Kai a little (in a friendly way)

Very analytical; I think Kai will become good friends with her. End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Taeo

A fellow thief

He pretends to be a snobby, rich guy; instead he’s a rich guy who steals from his fellow rich guys

He does try and help out the local thieves

And he’s passionate about animals; at the beginning of the story, he has two German Shepherds (dogs are rare in this world), and they’re named Noct and Luna

Sarcastic, and he loves tricking people

But he fangirls over the really good thieves, like Kai. End Description]

[Image Description: a page titled: Mikeal

The guy that was inspired by Yondu

He owns an old airship

Kai doesn’t trust any machinery she steals from his ship

She left his ship, but they sometimes come in contact, and she begrudgingly fixes what she can

Gruff, but he does take in orphans to help them

I don’t know if he’s an alien or a human. End Description]

[lapixie]

Ten Years Later Chapter 3

Chapter 1   Chapter 2

Chapter 3

About two hours after getting to the lab, the bulk of which he spent calming down his robots, he was finally able to look into the files and see what was being worked on. He was immediately floored.

“Kid,” he murmured to himself, reading the top file, “I knew you were a genius, knew you were gonna surpass me, but this is better than even I thought you’d be.”

As if summoned by his thoughts, the door opened and Peter walked in.

“Hey Tony, I was just checking to see if you wanted any help going over everything. I know you’re a genius and all, but it’s been ten years of progress.”

Peter’s face was timid and his body language was wary, like he thought Tony was going to be mad at him.

“Sure! I was just reading some of your files, and I gotta say, I’m impressed! Massively, gigantically, hugely, impressed!”  He may have gone a bit overboard, but he wanted to make sure Peter knew how much he thought of him. It must have worked, because his face lit up and Tony couldn’t help but stare. This kid was beautiful!

“Thanks Tony! That means a lot coming from you.” Peter almost whispered. Giving himself a shake, Peter walked over to where Tony was, and started going over all the updates to technology. Even doing just a light overview, it was still going to take days. To get a working knowledge again would take weeks.

He was caught between feeling depressed and hopeless that he was so far behind; and being elated that he would have an excuse to spend so much time with Pete. Which made him terrified, because he should not be feeling that way for a kid! Who, okay, was no longer a kid...but still! No! Bad Tony!

Pulling his attention back to the present, he was startled to notice that he had unconsciously gotten closer to Peter. Much closer. Like so close behind him he could probably feel his breath on his neck, and his arms were on either side of him. He went to quickly move back, but before he could, he heard Peter’s breath hitch. Was he nervous? Or could he possibly be attracted to Tony too? Before his brain could combust, Peter stepped forward away from Tony.

He was so stupid! Of course Peter didn’t want him! He was older and used to be his mentor. He probably thought of him like a dad. Oh God. He was lusting after a kid who thinks of him as a dad. He’s going to hell. Thankful that he was behind Peter and not in front of him, because he could feel his face was on fire, he cleared his throat and stepped to the side, giving the poor kid more room.

“So all these projects are amazing, and I can’t believe how smart you are! One question though. I don’t see anything about how you brought us all back? Where’s that file?”

He was genuinely curious. Strike that. He was genuinely bursting at the seems to find out how Peter did it. This amazing, wonderful, beauti...uh...awesome boy.

“Well, Mr. Stark, that’s the thing…” Peter seemed really nervous, and wait…

“We’re back to Mr. Stark, are we?” He chuckled, to let him know he wasn’t actually mad.

“Er, sorry, Tony. It’s just...about how I brought you all back...I kind of...didn’t. It’s just you. For now! We’re totally gonna figure it out! It’s just...when I figured out how to bring back one person, I knew it had to be you!”

His heart stopped. In all the universe, quite literally half of all the people in the universe, including his Aunt, which Tony knew how close he was to, Peter chose him to bring back! Maybe he did care about him as more than a mentor, maybe this could grow to be more, maybe-

“Because out of everyone we lost, I knew you could help me figure out how to get everyone else back! I know they’ll all understand when we get them back!”

Of course that’s why Pete chose him! For help. And he would help. He’d get everyone back for the kid so he wouldn’t have any reason to feel guilty.

“Yeah, I’ll help. Of course I’ll help! Who else is lost still?” He asked, needing to know.

“Well, um, you know Aunt May and Ned. Bucky, Wanda, Dr. Strange, T’Challa, Antman, Hawkeye…”

“It’s going to be okay. I have a question though. With May being one of the snapped, how was Happy dating her?” That had confused him since he found out May had been gone just as long as he was.

“That was before the snap. They didn’t tell many people, just me and Pepper. That’s why he’s unhappily single. Cause she’s been snapped for ten years.”

Peter looked so sad, Tony’s heart ached for the boy. He couldn’t believe that between him and his aunt, he was the one picked. If there had been any doubt before, there was none now. He would do everything in his power to help Pete get everyone back.

“We’ll get her back Pete. We’ll get all of them back. I promise!” Even if it was the last thing he did, he would get this done. The kid lost his aunt and his best friend. And he was a kid at the time. Only 17 years old. He had to make this right. The kid chose him because he believed in him. It was kind of humbling....but he was Tony Stark. He didn’t do humble.

“If anyone can do it, we can! Two brightest minds in the universe right here!” It did not warm his heart to see Peter chuckle and lose some of the sadness in his eyes. Which, coincidentally, was not killing him.

“So before we move on to saving the universe, tell me how you saved me? Maybe we can build on that?” He couldn’t wait to hear what brilliant tech he had come up with. It would probably blow everything out of the water, it was going to be amazing, it-

“Uh, I kinda just asked the soul stone and it gave you back.”

-it was so Peter.

“Huh? You did what now?” He wasn’t confused, he was just asking for clarification. Because surely the kid didn’t mean that he spoke to one of the most dangerous artifacts in all existence? Strike that, it’s Peter, that’s probably exactly what he meant.

“Well, I tried everything. And I mean everything! For ten years! And I just couldn’t figure it out. I was feeling really bad, and I just started talking. Not sure to who, cause I don’t believe in God. I mean, technically, Thor is a God? To the Norse? But no. So I was just talking to the ether, I guess. But then something started talking back to me. 

“It was the soul stone. It really didn’t like what it had been used to do. And it just happened to mention that everyone that was snapped was inside it. Which, sounded, ew. But eventually, it just came right out and said ‘Peter, I have your aunt, your only family left in the world, and I have Tony Stark, your’...uh, ‘the only person who could maybe help you figure this out. Choosing one would mean sacrificing the chance to spend this time with the other. A sacrifice is required to use me. Would you sacrifice spending time with one to get time with the other?’

“I have to admit, it struck me dumb for a bit. But I thought about what the stone was saying, listened to the actual words it said, and I knew it was trying to help. So I answered. I did what I had to do, to maybe save the world. The universe. I said ‘I choose Tony Stark.’ It wasn’t immediate. I kind of thought it would be. I mean, the snap happened within a minute. But the stone told me it would take some time. So I got Happy and Rhodey to come over, and called Pepper to come home, and you know the rest!”

Wow. That was. A lot. But he only had one burning question he needed an answer too. A dire need.

“Home? You live here?”

Peter looked a bit nervous as he answered, “Yeah, well, after the snap, I didn’t have anywhere to go. May was gone, and with her the apartment. Ned was gone. I didn’t feel right asking to stay with MJ. I was staying on the streets when Pepper found me. She told me I was moving in, and she wasn’t giving me any choice. Um, I don’t have to stay though…”

“NO!” He actually yelled it, without meaning to. Peter flinched a little and he felt so bad. A little (lot) quieter, he continued, “No. You don’t have to go anywhere! I’m just glad Pep was able to get you here. And yeah. She orders me around all the time too. I’m guessing after ten years, you’ve learned to just accede to her demands also?”

With a little quirk to his mouth, that Tony did not want to kiss, he just nodded.

“It’s really best that way. She usually knows what she’s doing better than us anyways. I’m sure you’ve learned that in the past ten years.”

“Yeah, yeah I really have. But she does make things easier, I have to give her that. I would still be struggling with the whole being outed as Spiderman thing if it wasn’t for her.” He shook his head ruefully, obviously remembering it all again.

“Boss,” Friday cut in, “it’s time for dinner. And Ms. Pepper has advised me to tell you that she has told me to cut all power to the lab if you have not started heading upstairs in ten minutes.”

“Friday, I thought you loved me! Would you really cut my power?”

“In a heartbeat boss. Go eat.”

He really had to shake the hand of the person who made her so completely life like and sarcastic. And then kick them. Oh wait. That was him.

“Let’s go Pete. Apparently, dinner waits for no man.”

Tag List:

@stxrker-fan-xx @lokitonypeter

[spacegaywritings]

“Cry for Help” - Bad Therapists have a special Place in Hell

Summary: Logan suffers from invalidating himself so much, he ends up hurting himself. Emile tells him that if he wants to die, to just have the courage to do it.  Tags: u! emile, bad therapists, mental health issues, depression, invalidating mental illness, suicidal thoughts, stress, guilt tripping, rejection pains, cry out for help, therapeutical inattention, suicide baiting, offensive language, literally Emile is such a piece of shiT, nobody gets hope for him - not even as a treat. “too rich to suffer” mentality  Disclaimer: writing based on subjective experiences based on therapy, mental health issues and (LOCAL) stigmas. You might have better/worse/different experiences with your struggles and how they were perceived and treated. Your culture or surroundings might have different bias. This is for venting and does not objectively apply to everyone’s experience of their mental illness or struggles. Check out my Masterlist for my fics! //  My KoFi  - Support me ♥ or Commission me

Note: If you miss any tags, have issues  with links or any other concerns, please feel free to contact me. Anon  is on and my DMs are open.♥    

Links broken? Inform me, please!

Overview of this series on tumblr / ao3.

Story under the cut // 2,1k words.

The sun was going down.

Fading rays illuminated the office, barely gifting it any more warmth. The sun was still shining but it disappeared behind the city buildings. The sun rays were so long, they reached the earth in a wide stretch.

It was cold, even colder than the office usually seemed. The practice has white walls only, was in a multi-story building. Small, humble.

 The man sitting there, tie and collar adjusted, gazed upon the his wrist. A fancy, silver wristband hugged his limb and decorated his arm. The precious feature was slim, a bit of metallic colour to it. The watch’s fingers moved. Moved. Rhythmically moved and moved more.

He looked back at the office. Logan liked it.

Still, there was a certain feeling of unease coming with the white walls staring him down. They were surrounding him, almost as if to inch in and corner him, trap him.

He checked his watch, then the room.

 The wooden door opened with a swing and a small figure danced into the place. He was not actually dancing, Logan noted to himself, but the light feet and easy tapping reminded him of the grace dancers showed when appearing on stage.

While the therapist had more heaviness in his movements and was not as impressive, his entrance had granted him a bit of Logan’s attention.

 “Hello! You must be Logan! I am glad you made it through the traffic. It gets really busy in these streets, especially since we are so close to town.”

 He stood up to greet the man. Emile turned around to close the door properly and looked at Logan. Upon seeing him, he stretched out his hand and beamed at the slightly taller client.

 “Good afternoon, doctor. Yes, I am Logan”, he took his hand, a slight smile appearing on his thin lips. It was come and gone like the sun. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

 The doctor giggled, as if bringing up his title gifted him with another swirl of happiness in his swinging body. He returned to the door, facing it and turning on clinically white lights.

Cold white.

They were not the warm kind of lights people would love to see in fairy lights. They were everywhere and seemed to illuminate Logan like a test object in a scientific experiment. Had the room been made more transparent, Logan would have made this connection for sure.

 “Please, have a seat. Recliner or couch, whatever is more comfortable to you.”

 Logan nodded and chose the couch.

The dying rays of lights seemed to reach out for him too much. At this moment, he did not desire the sun’s caresses on his cheek.

 “Thank you.”

 The therapist placed himself on his own seat and took out his clipboard, his legs crossing.

 “Now, you probably already know this but I am doctor Emile Picani and I am your therapist. I am here to help you today to see whether we two are a fit to work together - or whether you need someone else or nobody at all! I mean, who knows!”

 He chuckled and Logan rose an eyebrow but nodded.

The man was a scientist himself. He was a doctor, he was one of the youngest doctors in the world, working in a research laboratory. So he knew his way around science, he loved and observed things and he loved to mess around with theories and figure out more things about physics but at the same time, he did not know too much about psychology.

Maybe therapy was not for everybody? Emile was a expert. He should know better.

 “Now, what issue brought you here today?”

 The man in black and blue blinked as if to process the question. His mind was producing words, inventing phrases and trying to put together just how exactly he found himself looking for therapy.

 “Nothing is right, I think”, he started but cleared his throat. His face twitched for a moment, “Let me explain this. My life is right. I have a stable job and earn a lot of money. I have friends, family and they re nice and loving. They are present, yet I feel like.. I have never accomplished anything.”

 He sighed.

 “But you did..?”

 Logan nodded.

 “It is paradoxical, I know. I have so much and feel so little. It is as if nothing ever mattered.”

 The therapist started noting down words. Logan heard the scratching and slowly turned his head away.

 “Interesting.. How do you feel about your parents?”

 The man shrugged in a non-committal way.

 “We are in contact. We regularly meet and spend time together. Everything is sorted out. I had a rather normal life and childhood, I suppose.”

 Emile nodded.

 “Do you have any hobbies? Are there things you enjoy?”

 Logan adjusted his glasses despite their position remaining the same in the end.

 “I do enjoy educating myself on different topics such as astronomy, literature and other things. I also do relish in making plans, reading or meeting my friends every now and then. I have a healthy diety, composed by my dietician and regularly attend to gym in order to sustain physical health.”

 “Uh-uhu..”, Emile mumbled, trailing off.

 The pen was scratching harder, it was louder and faster than before. Like kids trying to keep track of everything the teacher said after “this will be on the test”.

 “Very interesting. Thank you for all the input. I have the feeling the issue is pretty clear, so let me put this on the table.”

 Logan nodded.

His knees snapped together but not a single fibre in his face moved. His shoulders pulled up into a more tense state but he remained as stone-faced as before.

 The therapist cleared his throat for the dramatic effect.

 “I think you might be blowing your issues a bit out of proportion. As you mentioned before, you have a completely satisfying life and are happy with it. What else is there to worry about, I mean - I saw the car you came in and it does not look like a lot of issues are parked in the front of my practice.”

 Logan felt his chest tighten but remained composed. His breathing had stopped. The whole body was completely motionless and something within him froze.

 “Doctor Picani, I value your input but I think you might be missing an important point I am making. Life has no value to me. My own life has no value to me. Waking up or not - it is all just the same and feels exactly the same. I want to die, doctor.”

 The therapist took the information with a smile on his cheeky face. Logan could feel his insides twitching in discomfort but he tried to stop himself, stop his mind from judging. He did not know anything about psychology but he was sure to be in good “hands” with Emile. Metaphorically speaking. Reactively, the gears in his brain slowed down. Instead of evaluating the message, he was firm on taking it all in first.

 He took a shallow breath in, nodding to let the doctor speak. Emile took the word with gratitude and awarded Logan with another uncomfortable smile.

 “Are you making this up right now? I have grounds to believe you are being a little bit.. extra.. with me, right now.”

 Logan blinked.

No.

Try to suspend judgement. It might just be a harsh sentence and a much more gentle evaluation. He was sure about this. This was a professional person after all.

 “Listen to me, listen close. You did not give me even a single reason for you to be upset or depressed and it sounds a teensy tiny bit as if you are looking for attention. If you want to pay me for attention, you can buy my time but I am certainly not as cheap as other people you could hire for a quick visit and an hour of talking.”

 As Logan’s mother used to say “after rejection, there is wrath”, Logan shook his head, his facial features pulling together like a mask of wrath.

Though.. when he spoke, there was a cold, calm anger spiking in his words. They unravelled like flowers opening ever so slowly after a rainy shower.

 “Doctor Picani, I beg your pardon but I am a man telling you I have a death wish. I am describing how painful and bland life seems to me and you are responding by invalidating my concerns?”

 The therapist shrugged.

 “You would be fun to analyse”, he commented with a tinge or sarcasm biting at Logan’s hot arms, “You are coming here, telling me you have a great life and nothing to worry about, yet you are worried about not feeling anything? Maybe YOU are the problem for taking things for granted, for taking for family and everything for granted. Maybe you yourself are at fault for whining so much, when you literally have a perfect life.”

 He cleared his throat and got up, staring at Logan with a power in his glare. Nobody could have imagined the sweet little twink in pink to be such a menace of conservatism in one bundle of pastel colours and joyful giggles.

 Who laughed at their clients anyway?

 “You say the problem is that I am whining, you say? So I caused my own dilemma?”

 Logan sat back down, as if to admit defeat. His wandered over his chest when he crossed his arms before his heart but he retreated his limbs at once and exposed his vulnerable yet hurting core.

 “Basically yes. This is okay, I will tell you how to solve it! Life is not for everybody but if you try a bit to think of yourself and others in a more grateful way, you might be able to overcome any kind of weird mood or thoughts you might have! Now, you just sit down with me and close your eyes. Tell me why your friends make you happy?”

 The addressed man shrugged.

His heart was empty.

 “Maybe they do not make me happy. I do not feel happy. I feel delighted every now and then but actual happiness sounds like a lie. My friends make me forget about these things and ease me up a bit but it is nothing but temporary bliss at most. I think you might be on the wrong track with me, doctor. With all due respect, you are making me feel quite worse.”

 The therapist laughed, no, he sneered. He made fun of Logan and shook his hair as if to feel every bit of criticism the other doctor had brought up to him.

 “You, mister, are an exemplary case of arrogance. I think you are exceeding our time at this session now”, he kicked the shelf with a clock on it and brutally pushed the fingers into place.

Logan glanced at his own watch before calmly facing the man again.

 “If you wanted to die, you would have already done so. I don’t think you need my admiration in order to feel any better. You need to get your head out of your ass and live a little. Be spontaneous and give away control and you might not be too stuck up to smile, once in your life.”

 He sighed and pointed at the door. His other hand brushed through his hair. The clock started ringing like a hyperactive cock not understanding the difference between sunrise and sunset.

Logan slowly got up, adjusting his tie and shirt.

 “Good day, doctor Picani. It was an interesting encounter.”

 Logan left, as soundless as his car engine when he took off.

 Emile looked out of the window.

There was only one more patient left for the day. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ End Note: This is not how a therapist should treat you. If someone treats you or your issues like that, please make sure you leave immediately and report this. A real therapist will validate your concerns and try to redirect your thoughts. If you have mental health issues, please reach out for help. Suicidal thoughts are no fun and should not be joked about lightly. If you suffer from them, please reach out for help. There are numbers and organisations out there to help you and support you. You WILL be missed by people you would not expect you to miss.These thoughts can have several different causes. It makes sense to contact a GP and work with a therapist and even psychiatrist if needed. If it is intense, please consider a psych ward or similar institutions in order to keep yourself SAFE. Your well-being matters!You do not need a certain age, trauma or circumstance in order to develop mental health issues. Aversive Childhood Experiences (ACEs) increase the risk but it depends on many more. Don’t let anyone invalidate your needs. If you need help, you usually know yourself best and understand life is harder than it should be. Keep looking for the adequate support you deserve and need!

[hannahindie]

A Tight Fit

Characters: Dean Winchester, Cas, Sam Winchester, Reader Word Count: 2,348 Warnings: Inappropriate noises, frustrated Dean, overly helpful Cas, slight heartbreak, all around confusion. A/N: I wrote this for @notnaturalanahi‘s Ana’s Crack Challenge #2 TWSS Edition. My prompt is bolded below. Italics are a conversation being had behind a closed door. I loved doing this challenge, and I hope you enjoy it too!

Beta’d by my sweet waterbear, @trexrambling: “I just can't with you right now. You heard my giggles. My brain can't handle this.”

As usual, tags are at the bottom! If you’d like to be added, please let me know!

Overview: Sam and the reader come home after a long evening out and stumble upon a situation in the bunker that they weren’t expecting.

The bunker door groaned as Sam pushed it open and let Y/N go ahead of him and down the stairs. “I can’t believe you didn’t want to stay longer.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Sam, one foreign film was enough, I can’t do two. I love you, but...it’s just not enough to get me through that. Sorry.” Y/N wandered through the war room and into the kitchen where she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and leaned against the counter. “Where is everyone?”

Sam shrugged, “I dunno. Who knows where Cas goes most of the time, and Dean is probably at the bar or something.”

Y/N stretched, then tossed the now empty water bottle in the trash and made her way to the door. “Well, I’m beat. I think I’m going to crash.”

Sam’s eyes widened and he pushed his way past her to lean against the door. ‘’Aw, come on, you aren’t going to bed already, are you? It’s only…” he looked at his watch, “...one-thirty.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, “One-thirty...in the morning. How are you not tired, Sam? We just drove, like, two hours to get home.”

Sam threw out his hands and shrugged, “I dunno, but I’m definitely not ready for bed. Wanna play a game of True American? Watch some television?”

Y/N groaned, “No, Sam, I don’t. I just spent four hours in a movie theater reading subtitles. First of all, who makes a movie that long?! Also, I forgot my glasses, so I’m pretty sure my eyes are going to bleed any time now. Now please, move.”

Y/N pushed past Sam and down the hall. Sam watched her for a moment, panic on his face, then finally made himself chase after her.

“Y/N! Stop! I need...I need to talk to you!”

Y/N whipped around just short of her room and glared, “This had better be good, Sam.”

Sam put one hand on his hip and ran the other hand through his hair. He was going to regret this, but it was too late to stop now. “You said you loved me earlier.”

Y/N crossed her arms, and her expression changed from annoyance to confusion, “Yea, I did. Why?”

“‘Cause I love you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, “What?”

Sam nodded, “Yep. I love you. It’s a thing...that has been happening.”

Y/N looked at him silently for a moment, her mouth slightly ajar as she thought about what to say. Then, suddenly and somewhat to Sam’s disappointment, she laughed. “Oh...oh man. Sammy, you…what? You’re kidding. You’ve got to be… You’re kidding, right?”

“Why is that funny?”

Y/N smiled, “Sam, I know you love me. But you don’t love me. Come on. We both know that. You’re my best friend. That’s a really lame way to get me to hang out with you longer. If you’re that desperate, come hang out in my room with me for awhile.” She chuckled as she turned back towards her room, “You’re such a dork.”

Sam watched as she got to the door and moved to open it. She froze as her hand reached for the knob, and she leaned in as if she was listening to something. Her expression changed from amused to horrified in a matter of seconds.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“There’s someone in my room… I think it’s Dean.”

Sam walked over and leaned against the door as he tried to pretend like he didn’t know for a fact that Dean was in her room. “Kinda sounds like it… Is that Cas?”

“Cas, I don’t think your angel grace is gonna be enough...unnnnffff…..Jesus, see? It’s not gonna fit.”

“Just hold still, Dean. You are far too rigid. If you keep holding it like that, it is just going to slip out. “

“You’re gonna slip out!”

“That...that does not make sense.”

Y/N looked at Sam, horrified. “What are they doing?” she whispered loudly.

Sam looked at her with wide eyes, “I...I don’t know.”

“Just stick it in the hole, Cas, what is the problem? Haven’t you done this before?”

“No, Dean, I have not. I am an Angel of the Lord, this has never been a problem for me.”

“You mean to tell me that you have walked this earth for millions of years, and this is your first time?”

"Dean, I am trying. It does not fit. I am beginning to wonder if you know how. The basic mechanics of this is not difficult."

“Sam...why are they in my room? Are they….please tell me that they aren’t... Why are they in my room?”

Sam gently put his hand on Y/N’s shoulder, “It’s fine, I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation for this.”

"For the love of God, Cas, please just put it in there. WHOA, HEY, that's too hard! You're gonna break something!"

"It is far sturdier than you think. It will be fine. Turn towards me, maybe that will be of assistance."

"I don't see how us facing each other is going to help. Man, if we are gonna do it this way, I don't want to have to look at your face the whole time."

Y/N looked at Sam, and he frowned at how heartbroken she looked.

“How is there a reasonable explanation for that? Are you hearing this right now?” She leaned against the wall next to her door and sighed. “You know, I kind of thought maybe me and Dean...that he felt the same. God, I’m stupid.”

“Y/N, I don’t think this is what you think it is. Let’s just knock, okay? See what’s going on.”

"I don’t think this is how it is supposed to look. Are you sure you read the instructions right?"

"It looks just like it does on the internet. I looked it up. On my smart phone."

"Cas, I have looked up many things on my smartphone; doesn't make it right."

There was a beat of silence and Sam glanced back at Y/N, who had her eyes closed and was shaking her head.

"Ow! That's not how that works! Are you even looking where you're putting that thing?"

“Sorry, Dean, I was distracted. Here, let me-”

"Wait, wait. I’m warning you, it’s a tight fit. Ok, now do it again...unnfff….Yeah. just like that Cas. Just. Like. That.”

Y/N waved vaguely at the door, “I don’t need to knock. I don’t need to see this, Sam! Did you know about this? I’m going to have salt and burn that room, and maybe my ear drums. And my feelings.” She sighed and hid her face in her hands, “This is awful.”

“Y/N, listen, it’s not what you think. See, the thing is-”

"Dean, have you and Sam ever done this before?"

"No, Cas. And I'd like to keep it that way. He would just make faces at me and tell me everything I'm doing wrong."

Y/N jerked her head up and glared at the closed door, “This is too much. It’s...I can’t.” She stormed off down the hall, and Sam followed quickly behind.

“Y/N!”

Dean looked up from the final leg he was attaching to the desk he and Cas had been working on, “Did you hear that?”

Cas shrugged, “I heard Sam and Y/N in the hallway, but I was not listening to them. She sounded upset, though.”

Dean tossed the screwdriver down and wiped his hands off on his jeans, “Upset? Why would she be upset?”

“I do not know Dean. I did not hear their conversation, just you telling me all the ways in which I was doing it wrong.”

“Huh, weird.” Dean looked at the desk and grinned, “Look at that, Cas! We did it, and we only have three extra pieces that probably aren’t important.” Dean clapped his hands together, “Ready to show Y/N?”

“Yes. I think she is really going to like this, Dean. You made a good decision.”

They left Y/N’s room and walked towards the library.

“You really think so? I’m not sure what her furniture preferences are...and honestly, who can even read half of those IKEA names? What is that about, anyway?”

“The names are in Swedish, so I would imagine anyone that spoke Swedish would be able to read all of the names.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “That’s a nice observation, buddy.” They walked into the darkened library and Dean stopped next to one of the tables. “Why is it so dark in here?” A lamp clicked on and illuminated a table down from where Dean stood, and he narrowed his eyes against the sudden brightness. “What the hell?”

Y/N and Sam sat next to each other, facing Dean and Cas. Y/N settled back into her chair and crossed her arms, “I think the better question is, why are the two of you so sweaty and disheveled?”

Dean glanced over at Cas who looked like he just went two rounds with Meg in the sack and then realized what he must look like. “Oh...well...I can explain-”

“Can you? Because I’m not so sure I want to hear the explanation.” Y/N leaned forward, her elbows propped on the table in front of her.

Dean scoffed, “What’s wrong with you two?”

Y/N stood suddenly, and Sam flinched away from her as her chair tipped backward and hit the floor with a bone jarring crash. “Are you kidding me?! What’s wrong with us? What’s wrong with you?” She pointed at Dean angrily, “You’re the one with the huge problem here.” She stomped around the table and stood toe to toe with Dean. “And you were in...my...room.” She emphasized each word with a jab to his chest. “How could you?”

Dean looked over Y/N’s shoulder at Sam with hope that maybe he’d clue him into what was happening.

Sam sighed, “The noises, man...the noises.”

Dean frowned, then his eyes widened as he realized what the problem was. He looked back at Y/N, “Were you listening to me and Cas?”

Y/N’s mouth dropped open as she stumbled around for the words she wanted to say, and she finally cleared her throat, “How could we not be? It’s not like you were being quiet! I wish you had just told me, I would have understood. I would have maybe been a little sad, but this is not how I wanted to find out. And I have to ask again, why my room? You have your own room!”

Dean looked at her for a moment, his green eyes sparkling in the dim light of the lamp, and then burst out laughing. He laughed hard, so hard that he had to put his hands on his knees and try to catch his breath. Y/N glared at him, “Why are you laughing at me?”

“Hahaha….because you think….me and Cas...whooo….you think…” He waved one hand vaguely at Y/N and wiped tears from his eyes with the other. “Come on, I need to show you something.” He held his hand out and Y/N looked at it suspiciously.

“What are you doing?”

Dean wiggled his fingers, “Just take my hand and close your eyes. I promise you’ll understand once I show you.”

“I don’t know that I trust you.” She cautiously let him grab her hand and lead her back to their rooms.

“It’s not...Y/N, just close your eyes, okay?” They made their way slowly down the hall, and Dean stopped her just as they got to her room. “Okay, no peeking. You promise?”

“I promise,” Y/N huffed out, her eyebrows still knitted in concern.

Dean pushed open her door and led her inside, then turned her so that she was facing the desk that he and Cas had been working on. “Okay, now open your eyes.” Y/N did as he said and gasped as soon as she saw the new desk sitting where her old, flimsy table once sat.

“Where did you get that?”

Dean grinned proudly, “IKEA. Cas and I put it together. And, we only have three extra pieces that don’t look important, so you should be good to go. Do you like it?”

Y/N nodded enthusiastically, “I love it! But...why did you do that? You didn’t have to…”

“I know I didn’t have to.” Dean reached down and grabbed Y/N’s hand. “But you needed a desk and I, umm...I wanted you to have something nice. Something new...just for you.”

Y/N turned to face Dean, her eyes searching his hopefully, “Is this...is this more than just wanting me to have a nice, new desk?”

Dean smiled, “Yea, a little bit more than that.” His free hand moved to her hip and pulled her closer to him. “It’s definitely a little bit more than that.”

“You could have mentioned it before I thought you were having a lurid affair with Cas.”

Dean leaned forward and let his lips brush against Y/N’s, “I wasn’t aware that building an IKEA desk was code for banging my best friend.”

Y/N smiled against Dean’s lips as she let her fingertips dip gently into his front pockets and felt his hips shift into her, “You didn’t hear the sounds from the other side of the door.”

Dean pressed his lips against Y/N’s, softly at first, but then with more force when she gripped the front of his flannel tightly. He wrapped one arm tightly around her waist and buried his free hand in her hair, his fingers tangled as he tugged it gently and coaxed a moan from her. “How ‘bout we make some of those sounds ourselves?” Y/N moved her leg back and kicked the door shut, and Dean laughed. “I guess that means you like your desk?

Y/N looked up at him and smiled, “You could say that.”

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda  @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout @escabell @charliebradbury1104 @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes  @deanssweetheart23  @canadianjelly @super-not-naturall @aubreyreadsstuff @dean-winchesters-baby @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell @owllover123 @rosie-winchester @amionthetumbler @duubaduu  @goldenolaf25 @authoressskr @nanie5 @mrssamfuckingwinchester @zincomms @kathaswings @crazynerdandproud @barbedwireandbubblegum @sandlee44 @boxywrites @justanotherdeangirl

Dean Only: @lavieenlex @akshi8278  @valkyrieslament  @highonpastries

[fountainpenguin]

You said we could request more character studies, so... Cosmo, Wanda, Mark Chang, and Norm?

Luckily I can wipe my hands of Cosmo and Wanda, since they slipped in with Timmy and Chloe. Our local genie and alien can tag team without them!

Let’s Talk Norm

7VV: Pride / Lust and Temperance

MBTI: ISTP

Greatest Strength: Never lets anyone hold him back or keep him down

Greatest Weakness: Goes from “I’m totally in” to “Oh heck no” in 3.5

Overview:Finding the correct blend of introversion and extroversion for Norm can be a little difficult for me. He’s forward but permissive, flighty but dedicated, enthusiastic but private. Put simply, Norm is a very direct soul who goes with the flow until his irritation builds and he takes off in another direction- think Norm being totally willing to share the “You can wish for more wishes” tidbit to Crocker when he thought Crocker was going to put it to good use against Timmy, but ditching him when he realized Crocker wanted to take the long way.

Norm is very practical. Too practical to understand Crocker’s wild fantasies. He fits the Only Sane Man trope rather well, nicely setting him in a position to drop the quirky one-liners (“What’s that on your neck? Is that your ear?”) He’s our chaotic neutral. He follows the beat of his own drum and never strays far from his own goals, offering his loyalty to someone only as far as they benefit him.

A risk-taker at heart, Norm likes to push his boundaries and see how far he can get away with things before someone snaps at him, in which case he’ll probably tease that person further while he floats there smugly watching them unravel. It’s his way of maintaining control over situations where he might otherwise be stomped down and have his magic exploited. He’ll file his fingernails as he watches the world burn.

Genies and Pixies are natural opposites. Despite the fact that both H.P. and Norm tend to be chill and share many of the same interests, a collaboration between the two of them would simply splinter. Norm overlooks details and H.P. is nitpicky. Norm wants to wrap everything up by lunch and H.P. would rather take thirty-seven years. Norm focuses on how enacting a major plan will benefit him with little regard for what happens to everyone else as a result, but H.P. has politics and his entire company to think about. 

Norm hates feeling beholden to rules or anyone else’s plans for him. If his mother were to approach him saying, “Hey, I’m going to run down to the store and buy you a nice suit- you wanna come so we can find one you like and maybe grab something to eat while we’re out?” he will totally be there. But the moment he’s told, “I need you to come to the store with me so we can get you fitted in a formal suit”, he’ll dig in his heels. Norm likes fun. Not chores. Plotting revenge on Timmy Turner with someone who equally dislikes him is fun. Being ordered to set things up just to Crocker’s liking with all the chicken feathers and rubber gloves and roller skates is not. He’s big on freedom, and if you take it away, he’s not going to play with you anymore.

As you might expect, the flipside to Norm’s practicality and logic is that emotions are a tricky minefield for him to navigate. In true ISTP fashion, he sees no reason to voice things that he believes are understood. He will smugly rub his successes in your face, especially if he doesn’t like you and is hoping to lower your self-esteem, but “I care about you” is not a phrase to commonly jump from his lips, even when it concerns those he holds dear. Not even little eight-year-old girls in oversized blue sweaters and bows.

Signature Move: The zingers, of course! Gotta love those snappy nicknames.

Otherwise, I imagine listening to Norm feels like this Far Side comic-

In a slightly curious twist for a cartoon character, Norm is actually the type to slip hesitation words like “Uh” into the middle of his dialogue, rather than just the beginning. He also laughs a lot. Living in a lamp for so long, secluded from the world except in bursts, Norm is easily entertained by the outside world. He does have a TV and lots of books in there, but I imagine there are still many jokes he’s never heard, and he can’t resist snickering along with them.

He speaks pretty quickly. Lots of semicolons, I think.

Body Language: Norm is always doing his own thing while conversations are going on, like shuffling playing cards, scooping himself ice cream, or relaxing in a hot tub. He also does THE THING, you know the thing-

Norm is very much an “I will let you push me all the way to the edge of a cliff but the instant you try to go further I will snap, so don’t be surprised” person; his frustration builds and builds but he’ll stick around up until he bursts. He lets people get buddy-buddy touchy-feely with him, even when he obviously doesn’t like it (Sanderson got snapped at in “Gaining the Upper Hand” because Norm’s a little more sensitive with his tail). 

Norm will break the touch barrier himself too, when he’s teasing someone. He’ll sling an arm around a person’s shoulders, muss their hair, or poke them in the nose. Whatever.

Other common poses include finger guns and leaning forward on his elbows with his chin in his hands. He plays with his goatee when he’s thinking, too. He also holds his hands close to his body and curls in his fingers when he’s nervous.

For obvious reasons, Norm would never snap his fingers in front of someone’s face to get their attention.

Relationships:Norm divides humans into two distinct categories: The common and predictable types who generally make the same types of wishes as his last master, and the rare fascinating kinds who don’t. Obviously the first group is easier to toy with, and depending on the situation, he can view the second group as either a fun new challenge, or a puzzling annoyance. 

But, Norm is up for anything that promises to be a little fun. He’s a do-er, not a talker. Discussing world problems and all the pros and cons of actions that might solve them sounds like a nightmare to him, even though someone like H.P. would consider that a delight. Sitting on a couch and impatiently counting down the seconds until he gets to step onstage and sing? Ugggggghhhh…….

I think we’ve covered how Norm swings between getting along with Crocker and finding him a pain to work with, and he obviously holds a strong dislike towards Timmy after what happened at the end of his debut episode. And Fairies, I imagine, are not among Norm’s favorite creatures either. Fairies tend to be by-the-book rule-followers who shun beings like Norm every time he tries to color outside of the lines. Their kinds do not mix very well. 

And as we know, Norm is always looking out for number one and trying to get people like Fairies to treat him equally. He believes that anyone who thinks they can handle the straight facts deserves to be given them, and considers it immoral to erase someone’s memory against their will unless it benefits him. If someone says they’re tough enough to handle something, why tell them no?

As I’ve hinted before, I imagine Anti-Cosmo feels empathetic towards genies. Fairies tend to believe that those who break the rules are bad people. A.C. disagrees, obviously, and he also understands how it feels to be cooped up. It’s for reasons like these that he started the Genie Conservation Program, leading to (drumroll) Norm’s birth in the first place. While their relationship might be hit and miss in terms of getting along, even clashing horribly at times, I imagine Norm will always hold a bit of grudging respect for Anti-Cosmo.

Like the vast majority of genies, Norm is a lot more willing to do the one-night-stand than do the commitment. The genie lifestyle simply doesn’t allow for stable families, even with Anti-Cosmo’s efforts, and this works out with his personality anyway. He may enjoy going out and doing things with people, but the I in ISTJ still stands for Introvert; Norm does need his personal space. And, as always, he looks out for number one. Balancing someone else’s needs at the cost of his own freedom isn’t exactly his style.

Canon Norm:

“Well, I guess we can take brains off the wish list.”

“Hey, hey, hey! Hey, wait-up! Hey-hey-hey, what’s- what’s the big ten-year-old hurry? You late for a wedgie? … Hey! Hey, smoof for brains!”

“Hahaha- Isn’t this fun? I think it’s fun.”

“Hey, whoa, slow down there, Hunchback of Never-Dated-a-Dame.”

“You’re not as crazy as you look. But then, you couldn’t be.”

“Great! If you need me, I’ll be over here, waiting for your plan to fail!”

Riddleverse Norm:

“Did you lose a fight with a wall of drying paint, or with a yarn documentary?”

“Who, me? I didn’t make you do anything you couldn’t have prevented.”

“You both rubbed the lamp at the same time. That means I’m obligated to grant each of you just one and a half wishes. And that was your half.”

“She shot you down again? Hey, hey, hey, triple combo bonus.”

“For some reason, I had you pegged as the kind of guy who could tell when he wasn’t wanted.”

“Hey, don’t look at me. I was totally on board with this plan until you stopped doing all the things I had scripted for you in my head.”

Let’s Talk Mark

7VV: Lust / Gluttony and Forgiveness

MBTI: ESFJ

Greatest Strength: Not being Jane Eyre His willingness to go against his planet’s norms, embrace Earth culture, and make dear friends

Greatest Weakness: Only willing to try so hard before he gives up; easily distracted

Overview: Envy will never be counted among Mark’s flaws, and even when he expresses Pride, it’s generally in terms of his entire planet rather than his own accomplishments. Mark ran away from his princely life to hang out in the dump and attend elementary school. He’s a humble kid.

Mark is enthusiastic in just about everything he does, always loving to turn any event into a fun party that everyone enjoys. The obvious problem is that he thinks what’s enjoyable to him will be enjoyable to others too, and he often forgets to tone his Yugopotamian interests back. Hanging around Vicky, Timmy, and their peers has helped him, I think.

Mark is a social fellow and much prefers being “one of the guys” to maintaining his distance and a princely air. Of course, since he tries so hard to make everyone else happy, it can wound his feelings when someone isn’t impressed- or worse, claims that he hasn’t done enough.

Fortunately, he doesn’t get upset easily. When he does, he’ll merely offer up a few cross words and be very resistant to changing any plans that have already been enacted. He worked hard for this party, dangit, and he’s having fun- if you aren’t, that’s your problem. It… took awhile for him to make the switch from being the prince of a war-loving planet to valuing the Earth and the people on it, even if Timmy and Vicky were among them.

To Mark, friendship is all about feeling comfortable and doing things because you want to, not out of obligation. He’s huge on mutual respect, and doing things out of obligation feels fake to him; he’d rather that person scooted out of his life than stuck around. Likewise, he never wants the door to be taken from him. He deeply values the freedom to have a choice in what he does with his time- life is too short to be miserable. 

This is one reason why being forced into marriage was so difficult for him. Mark can handle gaining a princely education. He can handle challenging one of the greatest warriors in the universe for the object of his affection. But being wed to someone he didn’t love was the straw that broke him. Mark will always value true loyalty over politics, and that’s perhaps why he loves Earth so much.

Signature Move: The lighthearted surfer dude slang and such. He wouldn’t be our Mark without all of his “This is totally bogus!”es and “Radicals”!

Mark’s sentences tend to be long and rambling. Lots of conjunctions and things. He skips over some contractions, for example using “do not” and “can not” in favor of “don’t” and “can’t” most of the time. He’s got a certain speech pattern that you can pick up when you hear him, but is difficult to describe in words.

I’m still trying to get a feel for Mark myself, so I don’t have much to say here. I imagine English shouldn’t be his natural language, so I’ve tried to play his struggles and awkward phrasings up a bit when writing him, but I think I went too overboard in “Bones”. He seems to flow better in “Thank You”, though that’s a rough draft for now and I’m not sure if I want to swing closer to his canon self or closer to completely-foreign-boy-whose-native-tongue-isn’t-even-semantically-close-to-this-whatsoever…

Anyway. He’s a work in process. I think I have almost as many Mark pieces in the 130 Prompts as Pixie ones, since Mark’s story is sprinkled through the last three arcs and the Pixies had lots of foreshadowing to set up in Arc 1 for us. We’ll get to see him a lot more pretty soon. He’s one of my favorite characters in the show. I just haven’t pegged him down yet and I’ve been procrastinating.

Body Language: Mark has some beautifully fluid body language, whether it’s him bouncing up and down in his squishy squid form, or making exaggerated arm motions and facial expressions.

This is Mark.

Every day.

All the time.

Lots of placing his hands to his chest and not a lot of touching other people, except in the case of Timmy and Vicky. Timmy gets lots of Mark’s hugs. He likes holding Vicky’s hands when he can, and once tried to drape his tentacle over his shoulder before she warned him off.

Relationships: Mark’s parents and their relationship with him always cracks me up. Sure, they like him as their son, but it’s just the Yugopotamian way to shed half a tear and move on. Gripullon certainly had no problem turning Mark over to Timmy with a simple, “Now, kindly slay our son”.

I guess that’s why relationships with his Earth friends are so important to Mark. He’s a brave boy, willing to seek out Timmy for help even when he considered Timmy the greatest warrior in the universe and knew he might be risking his own life. And since Timmy helped him, and helped him, and helped him, Mark simply can’t resist being there for his little friend whenever Timmy needs him.

I do enjoy Mark’s relationship with Vicky. “Scary Godcouple” implied that he deliberately designed his human teen form to look like the boy of her dreams, so you know he really cares. Their relationship is a huge struggle on both ends due to the culture differences and Vicky’s reluctance to conform to his needs when she’d rather he change for her, but it makes me smile that she sent him a present for Valentines Day even though they were broken up at the time. And she was willing to kiss him when he was in Yugopotamian form in “So Totally Spaced Out”. She does seem to like him. I’m glad.

And of course, I adore that deleted scene from “Foul Balled” when Mark visited Vicky in the nursing home when she was 96 and she was still so in love with him, just…. asdklfjsldfhsdjkagh I love them they’re so precious.

I love how Mark’s plotline started off with lots of romantic focus on her and then turned platonic and focused on his friendship with Timmy. Mark just honestly loves Timmy a lot and is always willing to stop what he’s doing and help his buddy out by taking off across the galaxy to rescue his mom or something, and I really enjoy that. And In “Take and Fake”, even though Mark was a bit annoyed that Timmy had stolen his Fakeifier, he still put that aside to help him solve the actual problem. To Mark, helping his friends is far more important than being right, and he’s always willing to swallow his pride. 

Canon Mark:

“Okay. I’m a prince, and she is a princess. Were we to marry, our planets’ alliance would be like, the most fearsome in the universe, and like, team up to destroy the Earth, ‘kay.”

“And to show you my gratitude, I shall struggle through the thank you that you Earthlings call, ahem, ‘a hug’.”

“Yeah, and that’s what the ‘L’ stands for. You lie all day long! Heheheheh… Is fun, huh?”

“What’s with the face? It is happy, and yet at the same time disturbing.”

“I must remind you I have a date tonight with my Vick-ay, and if I miss it, she will crush me! And not in the fun way.”

“Totally bogus, brah! You stole my iFake?”

Riddleverse Mark:

“I didn’t HAVE to F.L.A.R.G. before I left!”

“Vick-ay! Tootie and I brought you the happy death plants you like!”

“Why should the worms be free to partake in this delicious feasting, when I am left to simply drool and crave?”

“Didn’t I like, dump you and your mate at the sandwich shop the last time you snuck onto my ship?”

“But Timm-ay, my parents cannot be coming down to your plan-et for parent-teacher con-fer-ence night. I need a human sub-in!”

“I asked ‘cuz that’s your human culture, but you’re like this normal human kind of guy, and… sh’yeah. I don’t really know how you think you’re gonna stop me.”

“Yes, my delicious sewer dripping…”

[wolfenm]

The Problems with Reposting

Recently someone reposted my work -- as in, downloaded it and then posted it from their computer -- on their Insta and their Twitter. I politely but firmly pointed out that they did not have my permission, that they really should reblog / retweet an artist’s work rather than repost, and asked them to take it down. They BLOCKED me without responding on Twitter. I THINK they took it down from Insta, but I'm not 100% sure it’s *their* gallery that I'm seeing (which would mean they didn’t block me there), or one with a similar name and theme, because the one I saw before had less images. Anyway, I'm betting they did indeed remove it.

To their credit, they DID @  me on both posts, which I do appreciate. I know what some of you are thinking: Wolfie, that’s like a link, and you’re getting exposure -- why are you still upset? Except it’s really not.

Keep in mind that I am not some mega-corporation -- I don't have a huge following, I don't make tons of money (practically none, really -- I do it mostly for the joy), and my work is not instantly recognisable (although, really, if a famous artist posts their work, you should hit that reblog / retweet / share button in those cases, too). And for those who are thinking, “well, posting on the internet means you give up your rights” -- NO. That is 100% false. Read these:

https://sarafhawkins.com/copyright-online-photo-etiquette/

https://fairuse.stanford.edu/overview/faqs/copyright-protection/

https://about.deviantart.com/policy/copyright/

Here are some of the problems with reposting instead of reblogging/etc.

1) With it reposted in someone else’s space, if I want or need to change or even take the work down ... I can’t, because I don't have access to their account. 

2) It adds a level of distance between the artists and the work, with dangerous potential for further separation. Even if the one who reposted gives the link to the artists’ site, that doesn’t guarantee that someone who then takes it from THEM will share that credit.

Once, someone took an image of my Grootmas tree, stripped my credit from the photo, and posted it on their page, saying nothing about who it was by, so as far as anyone knew, they had made it. It was shared by over a thousand people before I learned about it. I contacted the poster, and he laughed and said “You didn't make it -- it’s not yours.”) So I showed him the original, with my credit still on it (meaning it had the part of the photo that his version was missing, not just the credit) -- and he insisted that proved nothing. So I took a pic of myself with Grootmas, with a sign saying who I was. *Finally*, he conceded and took the post down, but those people who reposted it would never know who really made it.

3) Too many people only link to the parent page of the artist, not the display page of the image. For artists like myself who post on DeviantArt, if a person does actually follow the link (many do not!), they then have to hunt for the image in the gallery -- if they don't find it, we don't get the pageviews. That makes it a lot harder to judge the success of a work, because we're not aware that people are even seeing it in those cases.

4) Not everyone who sees a repost speaks the same language as the reposter. This means they may not get that the reposter isn’t the originator, and is crediting someone else in the description, rather than just tagging a friend they want to show the work to, or a client who paid for a commission, etc -- context is lost.

5) Sometimes those credits get lost by the way the social media site displays on certain devices -- people may not see the actual credit at all, as it gets hidden behind a “see more” link.

6) It’s basically stealing “likes”. I mean, if someone reblogs my work, MY numbers go up, and helps my work to be seen more. It’s pretty much the same at Twitter. But if someone ELSE posts it directly to their social media, as a separate post not connected to me, it’s only THEIR numbers that go up, THEIR exposure that increases, not mine.

Putting a lot of work into something, only to see someone else get more recognition for it than myself, doesn't exactly encourage me to make more art, ya know? If you like an indie artist’s work, SUPPORT THEM, in the best way possible: share THEIR posts. Don't take control of their work out of their hands. If you want to use it for something outside of just a simple post, GET PERMISSION.

Once, some fanzine informed me, *after* the fact, that they had used art of mine in a post of theirs, but added that they would take it down if I wanted them to. Let me say right now that, even if I had been okay with the post it was included in, I still would have been hella annoyed that it they hadn't asked permission FIRST. As it was, I was even more upset when I discovered HOW it was used: it was art of Harry and Petunia that I had done for a fanfic of mine, and they were using it as a header for a ficrec of someone ELSE’S fanfic. (Seriously?? They used my work for my story to celebrate someone *else’s* story?? HOW could that be anything but rude??) At any rate, I saw on their site that you have to fill out a form to opt *out* of your stuff being used!! Outraged, I pointed out that inclusion in their zine should be opt-IN, not opt-OUT ... and they replied that it would take too long then for them to gather content, so they wouldn't be able to share artists’ works with the world, framing it like they were doing people a favour and we should be grateful, even if we never asked them to do it. 

Don't be like that, please. You aren't loving the artists when you act like this; you’re acting entitled and using them for your own benefit.

I know, I know,  “Wolfie, you hypocrite, you do fanworks! You aren't getting permission from the original artists!” Putting aside that I tend to gravitate more towards creators who welcome and encourage fanworks than ones who don’t .... you're right, and I entirely understand if you lump me in with the very people I'm complaining about. Any justifications I make are, in the end, me rationalising and excusing, whether I’m right or not.

So what are my justifications? I'm remixing hella well-known works, often owned by corporations (ones that I likely have given more than a little money to). I'm taking something that has become part of the fabric of our society, a touchstone, and participating in the conversations about it. I’m sharing my own thoughts about the stories by framing those thoughts in the form of new stories -- save for occasional quotes, I'm not sharing the actual original text. I give credit to the originators. When I do portraits, I typically use promo art, and often compile multiple images and otherwise put my own spin in things. My brain forms the words that my versions of the characters speak, and the actions they do, and my hands lay down the lines. (And I don't sell the fanworks, but that’s a whole other discussion.) 

I don't make gifs, but yes, I do share them -- these soundless, quick scenes that are used on the internet as a form of conversation, as well as a means to  study, re-experience, and share favourite moments of a show. They’re no substitution for the real thing, In fact, I have started watching shows BECAUSE of gifsets! (And showrunners aren’t, unlike me, ever going to need or want to take down old versions -- presumably they have put forward the best version they ever expect to do. Once a work is distributed en masse, that ship has sailed.)

There is no risk whatsoever of anyone mistaking me as the creator of the franchises I make fanworks for. Everyone knows where to find the source material. Everyone SHOULD be smart enough to understand that the originators are not actually participants in fanworks; if the reader / viewer doesn't like something, they should know not to hold the originators responsible for what a fan does with their characters (and if they aren’t smart enough, gods help us; we’re doomed).

(Also, if I know that a creator has forbidden fanfic, I *respect that and don’t do it*. And as I said, some of the fandoms I indulge in have even actively welcomed fanworks, rather than simply turning a blind eye. Like, Sony sent me a bunch of stuff for being “Fanartist of the Month" for October of 2004 on their Spider-Man website, and my Iron Man / Tony Stark painting ranked #1 for a while on the movie site for the first film, and James Gunn shared my Grootmas -- yes, he reposted, but I let the content-originators slide on that point. Hell, Warner Bros actually had a fanfic thread on their Harry Potter website years ago, Rowling having given her blessing, and had files for fans to use to make fansite graphics ....)