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wolfstar-supremacy-innit · 3 years

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"Tell who?"- Part 3

Remus smiled into his pillow. Why’s he so cute? He felt something rustle under his stomach. Reaching under himself, he pulled out a wrinkled piece of parchment. His resolutions list. Remus flipped onto his back and squinted at the letters. Warmth was pooling in his chest. Something is missing here. He patted the bed in search for his quill and ink, then wrote:

5. Fuck this I wanna tell him I love him

The paper slipped to the floor as Remus’ arms gave out and he drifted into an instantaneous, profound sleep.

Alternatively:

The Marauders are in their 6th year at Hogwarts, it's New Year's Eve and Remus writes a New Year's resolutions list. Sirius finds it the next day. The story is written from Remus' point of view. It's wolfstar and lighthearted. Kinda inspired by this fanfic.

This is part 3 of the story. I will be posting the other parts separately here and also the full fic on ao3 (I will link everything when it's done, check this post for that in some time). Warnings: underage drinking and smoking, mentions of anxiety disorder.

Part 1 Part 2

Enjoy <3

I’m such an idiot. I’m an idiot. Why didn’t I lie?! Why didn’t I disprove it? This was it. This was the end of the world. He knew Sirius wouldn’t react terribly badly. He wouldn’t express disgust or resentment, not after Remus confided in him about how sensitive he was on the question of his own sexuality. But it would be painfully awkward. Their connection would never be the same; it couldn’t. Remus dreaded losing his best friend. But it was done. Sirius’ best friend was James anyway. Remus buried his face in his hands as tears stung his eyes. He settled into his new hideout and slept there for the night. He couldn’t bear to face Sirius.

In the morning, Remus made an effort to arrive to Charms class as late as possible, right as Flitwick was commencing his lesson. He slid into the chair at the end of their usual table, next to James. Sirius was on the other end. “Where were you, mate? You scared us,” James whispered. Peter was gazing at Remus over his shoulder.

Remus cleared his throat. “Sorry, fell asleep in my spot,” he said. In his peripheral vision, Sirius was leaning far on the table, trying to catch his attention. But Remus took it upon himself to laser focus on the lesson, his nose buried so deep into his notes, it was nearly touching the parchment.

After the class, he bolted again. He just couldn’t face him. He couldn’t. He returned to his hiding place and waited out his free period and most of lunch. He had to repeat his breathing exercises more than ever. Suddenly, Remus paused. Determination was rising in his chest. Then he forced himself to pull it together. It wasn’t like Remus to run away from his problems. If being a werewolf had taught him anything, it was that neglecting and avoiding your issues doesn’t make them vanish. Makes them worse, even. Also, Remus didn’t have a lot. He had his parents, music, books, magic, and he had his friends. There wasn’t much he prised more than his friendships with James, Sirius and Peter. Sirius knowing about his crush was thoroughly embarrassing, yes, but it wasn’t worth completely losing his friends. Plus, he was due for a shower. So Remus took a few more deep breaths, dusted himself off, and headed for the dorm. When he got there, nobody was inside. He took his sweet time in the shower, allowing the warm water to drain out more of his nervous energy. I can handle this.

When Remus got out, Sirius was there, lying on his stomach, doing homework. He looked up. Remus put on a brave face and said: “Hi.” Sirius’ worried expression was exchanged with a slightly more relaxed one. “Hi.” Remus sat on his own bed looking in Sirius’ general direction, but not quite at him, cleared his throat, and said: “Um, sorry I bolted. That was childish.”

“That’s alright,” Sirius replied in the tiniest voice. It was very unlike his usual loud, assertive self.

Remus wanted the bed to swallow him whole, but he pushed through. “We don’t have to talk about the... thing. Or acknowledge it. It’s not a big deal, really.” A lie. But it needed to be done. Sirius didn’t say anything. Remus was certain he didn't know what to say. Reaching into his bag, Remus retrieved his Charms textbook and started on his own homework. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sirius still looking at him for another minute, then he went back to work. The silence was agonising and tense, but Remus had known it would be. They would just have to persevere. After a while, Sirius asked: “Hey, could you help me with this? It’s Arithmancy. I procrastinated, and now I have to hand it in in half an hour.” Remus snorted. Their next class was Arithmancy, and only he and Sirius took it. So, Sirius was choosing to act like nothing happened. That was okay with Remus. “Sure.”

Only, as it happens, Sirius didn’t ignore it. Throughout the next week, he started acting a little peculiar. He was still loud and fooling around, but he would also hold doors for Remus, for example. If anyone knew Sirius, they knew doors were either held for him, or he would just swing them open and let them slam behind him into the next person’s face. Even James noticed it and asked him if he had brain damage. Also, a couple times at meals, Sirius would scoot his seat closer to Remus’, making their arms brush while they ate. The first time it happened, Remus blushed so profusely, he could see giant pink splotches splattered all over his neck and cheeks in his reflection in one of the large silver bowls on the table. Sirius stopped calling him ‘mate’ too. Occasionally, he’d ask for help with his homework, even though he clearly didn’t need it. It all made Remus want to shoot himself in the face with a hex. It seemed like Sirius was pitying him, and he despised it. It was somehow worse than Sirius being awkward and distant around him.

January’s full moon fell on the 25th, and Remus’ transformation didn’t go particularly smoothly. It was likely one of the worst ones out of all those he spent with his friends as animagi. He was fairly confident it was because of the whole Sirius thing. Just because he decided to deal with it didn’t mean it wasn’t taking its toll. Remus was stressed all the time. Not just because of Sirius, of course, but that was a key factor. When he woke up in the hospital wing the following morning, his friends were there. James rambled on enthusiastically about an upcoming Quidditch match. Remus didn’t really comprehend half of it, but still tried to nod at appropriate times. Peter piped in once in a while to agree with James or add something. Sirius, however, was completely silent the whole visit. About an hour later, Madam Pomfrey chased James, Sirius and Peter out, but Remus didn’t mind too much. He was knackered. He drifted off to sleep before the boys were even out the door.

Later that day, at dusk, Remus sat in his hospital bed reading a muggle novel when Sirius popped in. Or rather sneaked in. He was alone this time. “Had a free period. Thought you might want some company,” he explained. Elation started brewing in Remus’ stomach.

“Oh, brilliant, thanks.”

“What are you up to, then?” Sirius sat on the bed.

Remus lifted his book. “Reading. Not much to do here, really.”

“Sweet. Will you read to me?”

“What?”

Sirius smiled. “Will you read out loud for me?” He turned around, plopped on the bed face-up with his boots propped up on the railing at the foot of the bed. He tucked his hands behind his head, half lying on Remus’ legs.

“Oh, okay.” Heat sneaked up Remus’ neck. He read to Sirius until it was almost time for him to leave for his next class.

“Transfiguration next. Think I’m gonna gouge out my eyes if we don’t move on from teacup to gerbil.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. You mastered it two lessons ago.” Remus rolled his eyes, smiling. Sirius let out a soft laugh.

“Moony...” He was now sitting on the bed next to Remus. “I feel like this is my fault.” He reached out and gently touched the bandage on Remus’ arm. Sirius was referring to Remus’ beat-up state.

“What? Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“Well, because of the... You know... I mean, you’re upset and-“ Remus’ heartbeat picked up swiftly. They hadn’t so much as mentioned the crush since that day in the dorm.

“I’m not upset. Really. I just have a lot on my mind.” He searched his brain for something more to say to make Sirius feel better. It wasn’t his fault at all. It was Remus’ for letting this bother him so much. “It’s not you.”

“You sure?” His eyes were so sad; it was painful.

“Yes, Sirius, really. It’s not you, okay?”

“Okay.” After a pause, Sirius continued: “Oh, I almost forgot. Brought you something.” He smiled, finally. After rummaging in his bag, Sirius emerged with a stack of chocolate bars and dropped them into Remus’ lap. They were Remus’ favourite. Warmth fluttered across his chest. Sirius had to have ordered these from Honeydukes. Now it was Remus’ time to smile.

“Oh, brilliant! Thanks, Sirius.”

“No problem. Right. I better clear off, then. I can’t handle another detention with Minnie for something as stupid as being late.”

“Right. See you in the dorm then.”

“See ya, Moony. Oh, loved the reading. We should definitely do that again!” Then he walked out the door. Remus’ cheeks flamed crimson. He sank deep into the covers, yanking them over his head. He’s gonna be the death of me.

***

After that visit at the hospital, another strange thing started happening. On several occasions, Remus caught Sirius staring at him, then quickly looking away when their eyes connected. In class, at meals, in the common room as the four of them sat in front of the fireplace doing homework. It made Remus very nervous and a little confused. Furthermore, with James’ upcoming match, Sirius and Remus found themselves alone more often than not. James either had practice or was in the library going over tactics for his team, and Peter loved tagging along. When Sirius and Remus were alone in the dorm, Sirius would usually suggest that Remus read to him. At first, they were in their respective beds, but then Sirius started sneaking onto Remus’ bed as he read. It made Remus’ heart thump every time, because Sirius Black in his bed, well. That was a sight to see. He would lounge on his back, one ankle over the other, hands behind his head, eyes shut, and listen. He never fell asleep. Occasionally, he would laugh or comment on an interesting segment.

One of those times, both of them were on Remus’ bed as Remus read “A Stranger in a Strange Land” by Robert A. Heinlein. Sirius liked the muggle books. He was in his usual disposition, with half of his hair loosely and messily pulled back with a hair tie. Remus adored that look on Sirius. He was sitting cross-legged in level with Sirius’ hips, with the book sprawled onto his lap.

“Hey, got a cig,” Sirius asked as Remus was turning the page.

“Yep.” He used Accio to fetch his rolling equipment from his bedside table, placed the contents on the rizla and performed his spell. It rolled smoothly, the tobacco and filter tucked tightly into the paper. He’d been practising.

“Hey, that’s one thing off your resolutions list,” Sirius said, smiling as he accepted the cigarette. Their fingers touched.

“Well, technically, it’s two, isn’t it...,” Remus trailed off, clearing his throat. Christ, why did I say that?! He could already feel the blood rushing in his ears. Maybe Sirius wouldn’t get the reference... But Sirius pushed himself onto his elbows and peered at him. Remus pretended to pack up his cigarette equipment with intense concentration. Sirius sat all the way up and leaned so close, Remus could feel his breath. Nervousness sparked off goosebumps all over Remus’ skin. He swallowed thickly. Sirius smelled of mint and expensive shampoo. “Moony,” he said, and Remus finally turned to face him. Their noses were less than two centimetres apart. Remus’ heart was hammering against his ribs.

Sirius glanced at his lips, then slowly leaned in and closed the distance. Remus fluttered his eyes shut as adrenaline set his insides ablaze. The kiss was warm and gentle. “Sirius..,” Remus started, but the other boy just connected their lips again, this time kissing him more eagerly, and Remus just gave over. Sirius was letting him know this wasn’t charity; he really wanted it. He licked into Remus’ mouth delicately, grasping the back of his neck to pull him closer. Remus had never had a real tongue kiss before, but Sirius was leading him, and it all came naturally. Without warning, he felt tears burning behind his closed eyes. Remus had never, not even for a moment, let himself get caught up in the idea of Sirius liking him back. He knew rejection would shatter his soul, and he couldn’t let himself be torn apart by his own fantasies. But it wasn’t a fantasy anymore, and Remus was overwhelmed with the relief of letting go. Of finally allowing himself to crave what he'd been pushing down for months. His favourite person wanting him back. He entwined his fingers into Sirius’ hair and kissed him back intensely. They were both breathing heavily, then Sirius placed his other palm on Remus’ upper thigh. A tingling sensation shot up his lower back as he inhaled a long breath through his nose. Sirius was remarkably skilled, Remus noted.

Remus lost all sense of time. He didn’t know how long they kissed, it simultaneously felt like minutes and hours. Suddenly, they leapt apart as steps and chatter echoed on the stairs leading to the dorm. Sirius stood up and hurriedly smoothed down his hair. Remus wiped his lips with the back of his hand and frantically covered his lap with the covers. He was tight in his trousers. Christ. He wondered whether Sirius noticed as the heat blazed his cheeks. Peter and James trudged into the room, still talking.

“Alright lads,” James said, sauntered to his bed and started taking off his Quidditch robes.

Sirius cleared his throat, then said: “Uh, yeah. Brilliant.” His voice came out lower that usual.

"Bloody amazing practice today!"

“Oh, you guys Should have seen them! I could barely keep track of the Quaffle! Ravenclaw hasn’t got a chance,” Peter prattled on, but Remus couldn’t focus. His brain was whirring a thousand miles a minute. Holy shit, was the only coherent sentence his mind could congregate. He could still feel the the ghost of Sirius’ kiss on his lips.

Minutes later, Sirius returned to his usual banter and mucking about with James. If something different was going on inside his head, it didn’t show. A sudden arrow of disappointment and yearning shot through Remus’ chest. Was this just a one-off? His excitement dwindled for a moment, but when he glanced over to Sirius again, he was already looking at him. They smiled at each other. It didn’t matter anyway. Remus felt like this kiss could power his brain for all eternity. It had been like something straight out of a dream.

Part 4 will probably take me a little longer, given that I basically had the first 3 parts drafted when I posted the first one. Also 4 will probs be the last one. Hope you like it so far! :) <3

Part 1 Part 2

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yuzukimist · 3 years

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For the WIP Ask game . . . for your current main! ^_^ #2, 5, 7, 8 annnddd 17!

Thank you so much for the ask! I love doing these so much. :D

Let’s see…I’ve spent the last day and a half fixating on my LOTR fic Legends Are Made (the one where the main character is a Haradrim OC) so we’ll answer the questions for that one. ;D

2: Post a line from your WIP with no context:

“The Shadow-Sword himself is hunting for you,” Yantanis hisses, emerald eyes almost glowing with fear even as her nails dig into the skin of Nasrin’s arms, and that one simple statement more than explains the elf-maiden’s distress.

5: Search for the word “knife” in your WIP. If you find it, paste the line and explain the context. Strangely enough (even I was surprised lol) the word “knife” is actually not currently in Legends Are Made (at least, not in any of the parts I haven’t already posted). But because that’s not a very fun answer, let’s swap out “knife” for “weapon”, shall we? ;D

She hurls her glaive spear-point first at the second beast, but its ferocious charge barely slows even as her weapon plunges deep into its shoulder, momentum carrying it forward as it snarls its fury at her.

The context is basically that Nasrin (the Haradrim original character who is pretty much the main character of the story along with an Avari Elf named Gwath) and the, uh, group she’s traveling with for a little while gets attacked by some wargs. It’s all very dramatic. ;D

7: What are you the most proud of? Oooh, the lore and the world-building I’m doing, without a doubt. We (the fandom) don’t get a lot in the way of canon information about the Haradrim and Haradwaith in general, so I really enjoy exploring the various aspects of that and I’m really pleased with everything I’ve done so far. :D

8: What is your biggest challenge? Posting consistent updates, as per always lol. My eternal struggle as a writer is juggling all my many WIPs (they multiply like gerbils, I swear) and to my great regret Legends Are Made is often one of the fics that gets shuffled to the back burner because it doesn’t have as many readers as my other non-OC fics. But! I’m all about self-indulgence lately, so you can probably expect updates on a, uh, slightly more frequent basis moving forward? Hopefully? ^_^;

17: Does your WIP have any themes or motifs? Ooooh man. I don’t know how to answer this question lol, I’m really bad at putting things like that into words when it comes to my own writing haha. For Legends Are Made it’s even more difficult because while I have a general sense of where the story is going in regards to certain plot points, I haven’t even finished writing the first ten chapters and everything else is largely just…vibes, lol.

That being said, since it is a Lord of the Rings fic, there is of course the overarching theme of Good vs. Evil, and the additional reoccurring theme of courage and perseverance in the face of adversity; I’m also going to try to weave in love, because for me one of the most important themes of all Middle-Earth works is the love; between romantic partners, between friends, between family, etc. In Legends Are Made specifically, Nasrin’s main motivation for almost everything she does is the tremendous and unwavering love she has for not only her own tribe but also all the peoples of Haradwaith; her country is suffering because of Sauron and the coming war and she’s furious over it because she cares so much. There will also be some romantic love and strong friendships woven into the narrative as well, although I don’t know that those necessarily count as ‘themes’ lol.

TL;DR: Courage, Perseverance, Love.

#writer ask meme #yuzu answers #writer ask game #ask game #i really love doing these :D

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unityghost · 4 years

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Strangers

Here’s some new fanfiction for those of you who wanted to see some (and I know some of you did). Sorry for my cat delaying the writing process by shoving her chonky little body into my lap.

Have fun with the angst that occasionally makes me question my decision to refrain from anonymity.

Part 28 of Post-Asmodeus Sabriel Feels because I can’t stop myself. Find the full series here.

That Thursday afternoon, two days after they had left early in the morning for Missouri, Dean and Sam returned home.

Gabriel, who was aware of Sam’s impending return, had left his door open so that Sam could simply enter if he wanted.

Sam knocked on the doorframe anyway. “Hey.”

“Hey,” said Gabriel. “Nice gash on your knuckles there, soldier. You didn’t even try to clean yourself up, did you?”

Sam glanced down at the offending hand. “I was distracted, I guess. And I thought it wasn’t really important.”

“What the hell did that to you? Pennywise?”

“The witch had a familiar. Guess she’d trained it to go after anyone who might want to mess with her.” “Was her familiar a saber-toothed tiger?”

“Not exactly, no.”

“A wolf?”

“No. She had a, uh - ” Sam cleared his throat. “A gerbil she’d probably done some powerful spellwork on.”

“Perfect! There’s your story for any awkward silence at the next family reunion. Can I try and heal you? You got bitten like chum.”

“Definitely not. Don’t waste any of your grace on this.”

“Whether ‘this’ was from the Loch Ness monster or a jacked class pet doesn’t make any difference to me. Come on, get over here.”

Sam gave a sigh and stepped nearer so that he could offer his hand. Gabriel grabbed him by the wrist and examined the wound, which was no longer bleeding but evidently had not been properly sanitized.

He pressed his thumb into the jagged cut, waited a moment (I’m gonna look like a tool if this doesn’t work), and let a warm pulse of grace permeate the skin. Gabriel’s own human form crawled with gooseflesh as the surge of power rose up and then ebbed out of him. He pulled away once the damage was no longer visible.

“Look at that!” he declared, taken aback by the pride in his voice. “No big deal.”

Sam studied his hand and then grinned at Gabriel. “Thanks. Nice work.”

“Keep away from any and all furry fiends, Sam.” A wave of exhaustion overtook Gabriel on the tail end of the sentence. “Yeah, um … listen, I’m glad you’re safe and sound. And I guess maybe it’s been a long morning or something, so I’m gonna go ahead and kick back for a good half hour or so. That sound okay to you?”

“You’re tired because you just used up your grace.” Gabriel could see it: Sam was making a conspicuous effort not to appear perturbed. “Gabe, man, you really didn’t - ”

“It’s not that, it’s not that; I just … I just need …” Gabriel rubbed his forehead. “Whatever, I’m all right; I just want to lie down for a few minutes. You know me. I’m like Manhattan: sexy, psychotic, and eternally sleepless.”

Sam looked concerned, but nodded. “Sure. I’ll be around if you need anything.”

Once Sam had left, closing the door in his wake, Gabriel felt sleep overcome him in a way it typically didn’t when he tried to fall asleep at night. His entire body was worn down, as if he had forced it to its limits over a number of hours. He almost wished he hadn’t offered to heal Sam; what use would he be if something more serious came up?

But he had little time to dwell on the question, as exhaustion overwhelmed the ability to think.

He slept deeply, as he almost never did; and in the abyss of his own subconscious, he heard voices.

I can’t be alone with them, I can’t; I don’t know them!

Shut your mouth, you spoiled little weasel. They gon’ be good to you; ain’t that right, boys?

I don’t know them; I don’t know them!

Oh, well now, you’ll get to know them soon enough. And ain’t these fellas just so lucky to ignite a friendship with my favorite archangel? Sometimes I wish I could make your acquaintance all over again, boy. There ain’t nothin’ like the first time.

I don’t know them; I don’t know them! Please, no, wait! Why won’t you listen to me? Why won’t you touch me? Stop it! Stop it! Look at me! Help me!

What happened in his dreams seemed to last hours; and indeed, when the door creaked open and a small voice called his name, the time was 5:00 P.M. - three and a half hours since Gabriel had told Sam he needed rest.

“Are you okay?” Jack called. “Sam told me to come check on you.”

With the flat, bitter taste of afternoon slumber in his mouth, Gabriel sat up. His face felt warm where it had pressed into the pillow. “Yeah. Yes. Apparently Sam went and got himself chewed up by a bloodthirsty hamster, and I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to try and fix it. Guess I had less in me than I thought.”

Jack nodded. “Okay. It was a gerbil, by the way. Not a hamster.”

“Whatever. Something in the category of small, furry, and unexpectedly lethal.”

“You know how witches are. Imagine what Rowena could do with a gerbil.”

Gabriel yawned. “Guess I’ve never thought about it.”

“You’re not shaking, are you?”

“Me? Nah.”

Jack stared at him. "I don't like seeing you like this."

"No refunds. Sorry, little guy.”

Jack watched him for a few moments, then strode over to the bed and wrapped his arms around Gabriel.

Jack pulled away, crestfallen. "Oh. I'm ... I'm sorry. I guess I thought I could help. If I had my powers, I ... maybe I could do more."

Gabriel shook his head. "Doubt it, bud. Don't feel bad, all right? This isn't about anything you're doing wrong. It's about me being too icky for you. Don't want you to get whatever disease it is I've turned into." Gabriel hadn’t anticipated this bitterness, especially not in front of Jack. The rush of self-loathing had seized him without warning.

Jack's expression creased into an odd mix of horror and puzzlement. Perhaps he sensed that these words were troubling, but didn’t fully understand them.

“You go ahead and tell Sam I’ll be right out,” Gabriel said, feeling as though he had just violated his nephew in some way. “Go on, let him know. I just need to stretch, all right?”

Slowly, Jack nodded. “Are you upset because I hugged you?”

“No! No, come on; I’m not upset over that, or over anything else. Don’t worry so much. I’m a grown-ass angel and can take care of my own damn self. And even if I couldn’t, the job isn’t yours.”

Jack seemed uncertain of what to say in response, so he simply nodded again, forced a smile, and exited the bedroom.

“Close the door,” Gabriel called. “I like to get my bearings in solitude.”

“Sure,” said Jack, although he sounded anything but sure.

Once the door was shut and Jack’s footsteps - lighter than Sam’s, more staccato - Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. He would have liked to have been able to shake the dream off before heading into the hall, before seeing anyone else, but it stirred its way through his insides and refused to leave.

Once he had some semblance of composure, he dragged himself out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where he found Jack and Sam sitting at the table in conversation.

Gabriel was disappointed but not surprised to hear Jack say, “And I think something might be wrong with him, but I don’t really know what” before both of them fell silent upon Gabriel’s entry.

“Oh, hey,” said Sam. There was a mug of coffee in front of him, still steaming. “You feeling okay? Were you asleep that whole time?”

“I …”

Sam glanced at Jack, who looked troubled. “Give us a minute.”

“I don’t think it’s true,” Jack said, not to Sam but to Gabriel. “It’s not true what you said about being able to take care of yourself.” He sounded bewildered.

No, Gabriel realized, He sounds hurt.

“I know when you’re not telling me the truth,” Jack said.

Before Gabriel could respond, Sam put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “For now, Jack. Okay?”

Jack looked back and forth between Sam and Gabriel, helpless, frustrated - and then jerked himself out of Sam’s grip and left the room.

Gabriel watched him leave. Once Jack was out of earshot, he said, “Kid’s messed up. My fault. He needs you more than I do.”

“No. No, he’s all right. He just wants to help and doesn’t know how.”

“Well, that’s not how things are supposed to be.”

“So, um …” Sam sat down. He was probably expecting Gabriel to do the same, but Gabriel felt more comfortable standing up. “What happened? Is something wrong? Jack said - ”

“I heard what Jack said.” Gabriel looked down, examining the floor.

“Are you okay?” Sam pressed.

“I’m fine.”

“You want me to ask Jack? See if he can confirm?”

Jack, who had been sent in place of Sam; who had been given the unfortunate duty of making sure that his uncle wasn’t in urgent need of help. Jack, who should have been too young to know anything of Gabriel’s pain. Jack, who was incapable of choosing for himself whether to opt in as caregiver or to step away from what he didn’t know - couldn’t know - was too heavy for such a naive spirit.

“No,” Gabriel said. “I would like to humbly request that you not ask him a single freakin’ thing.”

“Did you have bad dreams?”

The images floated into the present, still warm. He saw the face of a stranger (a demon whose presence had been background noise during Gabriel’s imprisonment, but who apparently had taken up space in his memory), bloated with derision and the definite appetite that only manifested in nightmares.

“Yeah,” Gabriel told Sam. “But - I mean, that’s, you know - ” Words hummed into static as he tried to think of just what to confess, and whether he ought to say anything at all. It wouldn’t necessarily do any good for either of them - and especially not for Sam, who had had only a few hours to recover from his encounter with a witch and her maniacal gerbil.

Sam gave him a moment to think before stepping in. “Look, Gabe, don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I can tell when something’s the matter with you. Jack isn’t the only one.”

“Stop talking about Jack!” Gabriel snapped, and Sam blinked in surprise.

He asked, “Can I maybe do anything to help?”

Gabriel could tell that Sam feared pushing conversation, confession, or counsel. Sam wanted to know; Sam had every right to know. Gabriel owed him at least some piece of the truth. And so he said: “I’m sorry. Maybe I just missed you while you were away.”

Sam smiled at him. “You knew I was coming back, right?”

“Sure I did.” A pause, and then: “However, there is the minor possibility that the halfway point between ‘I’ll be right back’ and ‘I’ll head home once you’ve taken out the trash’ got lost in translation.”

Sam didn’t seem to immediately understand what Gabriel meant. When his look of puzzlement became one that Gabriel couldn’t quite identify - resigned, but also horrified - Sam got to his feet and took a few steps toward Gabriel and held out the hand that, just hours earlier, had sported an ugly wound.

“Oh please,” Gabriel said. “We don’t have to do this. You don’t need to suckle me. Maybe I’m just a little shaky after kicking my grace into gear. I mean, don’t think I’m not glad to have used it; your hand looks a hundred times - ”

“Gabriel,” Sam said, “I missed you too.”

The kitchen tilted and fogged. Sam jolted forward and caught him as Gabriel’s knees buckled, although he hadn’t felt particularly weak or faint up until that moment.

Like a punch to the jaw, he thought. Enough force at once and down you go.

Sam helped him to sit at the table.

“That was on purpose,” said Gabriel. “I was trying to do a cartwheel.”

“Can I get you some water? Some coffee? There’s still a lot left.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t need - I mean, there’s not much to be done when everything around me is fine.”

Sam squinted at him. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“Yes. I’m all right.” He glanced away. “Or I thought I was.”

Sam hesitated for a few seconds. Then he asked: “Did you really think I wasn’t going to come back?”

“No, that’s not what I thought.”

“Honestly, Gabriel?”

Gabriel sagged in the chair. “What difference does it make? My intuition isn’t exactly razor-fine these days. I knew you were coming back. You’ve got family here. You’ve got every reason in the world to dust your rodent-bitten hands of whatever case, turn around, and head home.”

“You can come with me next time, if you want.”

“No, I - ” The idea of Sam being forced to tote him around like a needy child humiliated Gabriel. “I just see everything as a landmine, that’s all. You know what? You could tell me, ‘By the way, we’re thinking of retiling the bathroom’ and my first thought would be, ‘Have they been hinting that I’m supposed to retile the bathroom and I was too dense to pick up on it? Are they angry? Can I do something to make up for not retiling the bathroom? Did they run out of tasks to keep me around and are trying to think of some other use for me, or - ’”

“Okay,” Sam interrupted, “I get the picture. The important thing is I’m back now; I’m here, and you’re okay. It’s all okay.”

“Great. I can feel my troubles drifting away like spider silk on the summer breeze.”

“I know it’s easier said than believed, but that still doesn’t make it less true.”

Gabriel straightened up a little. The room was no longer spinning. “Sam, I know that you wouldn’t just, you know, completely disappear. I know that, okay? And even if you did go AWOL, I’ve got a whole team over here; it’s not like you’d be replaced with a stranger or - or anyone who wanted to hurt me. I know that,” he emphasized, and Sam, looking concerned, didn’t reply. “But,” Gabriel added, “I think I may have fallen into a little bit of an old pattern without realizing it. And I can’t really say why now, out of the blue. It isn’t as if you haven’t left for days at a time to do your job.”

“Is this the first time you ever felt that way when I left? Like I wasn’t going to come home? Like I was going to leave you to someone else?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, before he realized that that was actually wrong. In fact, he couldn’t remember an instance of Sam traveling when Gabriel hadn’t been, at the very least, nervous about being left without him. “I mean, no, but I haven’t had a nightmare about it. Not one this bad, not one this gruesome.” He swallowed. “I guess I was catching up on lost sleep, especially after using my grace.”

“What’d you dream about?”

“Oh, I dreamed about Asmodeus. And about some other demon I thought I’d maybe forgotten. One who watched over me once or twice when he - when Asmodeus - had other business to attend to. He would do to me everything Asmodeus did, only - only when he did it, it just felt different, because I didn’t even know his name. I used to plead with Asmodeus not to go, but sometimes he had to, I guess, and he left me. I look back on it, and I see that he couldn’t have stuck around for me all the time, but - ”

“Gabriel,” Sam interjected, “Can I ask you something?”

“Is it a less foreboding question than ‘can I ask you something’?”

“I want to know,” Sam said, “Why you end up trying to defend him.”

“What? I don’t do that.”

“Yeah, you do. He had no right to - ”

“I know, I know. He was in the wrong; I was the unwitting beaten animal. I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I just don’t want you to - ”

“In any case, when he left I felt exposed. When it was him, I mostly knew what to expect, even if it was just a familiar face. I remember screaming and begging with him not to leave me by myself, either with no one or with someone I didn’t really know. I remember him laughing at me whenever I did that, or just pretending like he couldn’t hear me.” Gabriel shivered.

Sam took his hand. “It’s okay. That won’t happen to you again.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“Good.”

“What are we gonna do about Jack?”

“Jack? I told you, Jack’s fine.”

“No, he’s confused. He thinks he wants to help me, and he doesn’t know that he can’t. Of everything that’s eaten away at his innocence, I think I might be the biggest culprit.”

“What? Jeez, Gabriel, that really couldn’t be farther from the truth. And anyway, I thought you didn’t want to talk about Jack anymore.”

“I want to be better for him. Or I at least want him to see something that isn’t this. Something that isn’t me the way I am now.”

“Don’t twist yourself in knots over Jack. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Why did you send him in?”

Sam frowned. “When? To check on you?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know, I was making coffee and I thought he might like to see you.” Sam suddenly looked troubled. “That’s really all it was. I wasn’t trying to stay away from you.”

“Yeah. I, uh … I know.” Gabriel focused on breathing steadily - not too shallow, not too deep - and on the weight of Sam’s hand. “You get it, right? That I trust the others, I do; but I don’t trust them the same way, exactly. You know? I can’t help that. I try, and I can’t. They care a lot; they show that they care and I like that. But it still - it feels different with you. I wish I could get everyone on the same level, Sam; it’d only be fair to you, and to them, if I could learn not to be afraid of anybody. I just don’t know how to be as okay with them as I am with you. I keep trying to fight that - I keep trying to remind myself that nobody here is dangerous. And that maybe I can ask them for the same things I would come to you for. You know, after a nightmare, or when my mind goes dark. It just feels different when you’re gone, Sam.”

Sam squeezed his hand. “That’s okay.”

“I don’t - ” Gabriel’s throat was tight. “I’m not - I still find Castiel sometimes, when I need help in the middle of the night. Wanna give you a break. He helps. Next to you, he’s the one who feels least like Asmodeus. I mean, there’s Jack, of course, but he’s a different ballgame. I can’t tell my brother the truth, though. I can’t tell him that I don’t really want him. He tries so hard and he’s a superstar. Even when I’m awake, with him, and - and crying, or sick, I can never bring myself to tell him what I’m really thinking. I can’t explain to him that a part of why I can’t really calm myself down is that I feel like I need you there.”

Sam seemed at a loss. “I don’t think that would bother Cas.”

“It’s difficult; it’s confusing to need the things that I do. It’s confusing to be this lost and out of control and dependent. I don’t think I’m handling it right.”

“There’s no right way. No wrong way, either.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Sam, but that’s just plain not true. There is a whole world of wrong ways to move through this experience. Someone with more sense would know that the aftermath of something like what happened to me isn’t as bad as being in the thick of it. But me, I can’t seem to get the one stubborn foot out of Hell no matter how hard I pull at it.” Gabriel felt his heartbeat entwine with the knot in his throat, making it hard to breathe. “I’m not supposed to need this.”

“To need what?”

“Not supposed to need to cry, I guess. I don’t think that’s the right way to get through this. What good’s crying gonna do, you know? It’s not helpful and it’s degrading.”

“It’s pretty normal, I think.”

“I don’t want it to become so frequent that - that you - ” As if his body was in a state of defiance, he felt tears slip down the edges of his nose. “That you see it so much it becomes background noise. That you don’t think - that you don’t take it seriously. I think that was part of why he started to just turn away from me. He’d seen me upset too many times to think anything of it.”

“Jesus, Gabriel, you keep trying to make this into your fault.”

“I want you to know that when I can’t - can’t hold myself together, it means nothing.”

“That’s not what I think when you cry, Gabriel.”

“After a while, though - ”

“No. And besides, you know how I feel about trying to keep it all inside.”

“Can we, uh - ” Gabriel dragged a shaking hand across his cheeks. “Can we maybe go somewhere else? I don’t want Jack to walk in and see this.”

“I can take you to my room. Can you get to your feet okay?”

Gabriel nodded and stood up, although the task proved more of a challenge than he had anticipated. Something in him was desperate not to move: he wanted to hide, to seek shelter in his own smallness.

“Come on.” Sam took his shoulder and steered him down the hall. Gabriel trained his eyes on the floor; if Jack was nearby, Gabriel wouldn’t have known.

Sam shut the door behind them as they entered the bedroom. Gabriel immediately curled up on the bed, face in his knees, hands gripping his hair.

He felt Sam sit next to him. “Hey, buddy, deep breaths.”

Gabriel couldn’t bring himself to look up. He hated himself for what he wanted just then: more than anything, he hoped that Sam would put an arm around him, or that Sam would hold him. But Sam was probably using caution, afraid that Gabriel would recoil from touch.

I don’t need that anyway, Gabriel told himself. I don’t need it. I don’t. I don’t need that.

“Not sure if this makes any difference,” Sam said after a while, “But try not to forget that I - that all of us - we understand what it feels like, you know. At least in some way. We all know what it’s like to want to look good for each other. All of us have been hurt pretty bad at some point. We don’t need each other any less than you need me. And we know how it feels to not want to tell the truth about that.”

Gabriel turned his head so that it rested sideways on his knees and he could look at Sam, who went on: “I just want you to keep in mind that however much you don’t like how things are right now, this isn’t you having a weird reaction to Amsodeus. I know it feels gross, but it isn’t wrong, Gabriel.”

“Doesn’t really matter,” Gabriel whispered. “I feel like I’m wrong just because of whatever it is he made me into. I’m disgusting.”

“You’re really not.”

“I can feel it, Sam. The feeling of just being something wrong. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to,” Sam told him, and Gabriel’s chest tightened at the realization that Sam knew precisely the feeling he was talking about.

“I wonder what he thought when he saw me like this,” Gabriel said hoarsely. “Sometimes he wasn’t exactly upfront about what was going on in his mind. What did he think when he saw this diseased little rodent clawing for a split second’s attention?”

Sam looked vaguely ill at these words. “It doesn’t matter what he thought of you.”

“It does matter, because I want to know that you aren’t thinking the same thing about me.”

“Well, I certainly don’t see you as a … a ‘diseased rodent.’ Where’d you come up with that? Gerbil still on your mind, huh?”

Gabriel couldn’t bring himself to return Sam’s half-hearted smile.

“I don’t see that at all,” Sam insisted. “I just see you.”

“Ugh. That’s worse.”

“You’re different. I see that. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to you being so … different. Not because it’s bad; not because it’s wrong. Just because it’s, you know …”

“Different,” Gabriel muttered.

“Right. Because ‘different’ is what happens when you’ve had everything taken from you.”

Gabriel was silent.

“You’re still Gabriel, though,” Sam reminded him.

Gabriel closed his eyes. “I don’t know if that’s what I want to be.”

“You have a choice now. You can be Gabriel any way you like.”

Gabriel hid his face again.

So Sam saw him. He saw Gabriel. And when Sam saw this terrified, sobbing phantom of what Gabriel had once been, did he really think he was seeing the true Gabriel?

And why? Gabriel thought. Why won’t he touch me?

Sam’s voice broke through once more. “Asmodeus didn’t leave you with anything good, Gabriel. All he gave you was violence and fear and shame. And look - I don’t know about you, but I think it makes sense that it’d take some work to get back any of the good things he kept out of reach.”

Gabriel raised his head, showcasing what he felt was probably a grotesquely tear-stained visage. “Sure it does. Except that if he kept all that for so long, he must have had a reason. I don’t know that I want to put up a fight for happiness I don’t even deserve.”

“You do deserve it, and you should put up a fight.”

“I don’t know if I - ”

“Then I’ll put up a fight,” Sam said. “Okay?”

Almost involuntarily, as if seizing, Gabriel jerked sideways and used both hands to grab onto Sam’s arm. He squeezed tightly, not sure exactly what he was doing or why. It felt primitive and desperate.

Sam’s features softened. “Hey, hey …”

“Is it okay?” Gabriel asked hoarsely. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

“Of course it’s okay.”

The bewilderment in Sam’s voice served as a reminder that Gabriel was being stupid and overly cautious, that Sam definitely didn’t mind touching him, ever; but the fear was present no matter how irrational Gabriel understood it to be.

In fact, he realized, it wasn’t fear that plagued him as he worried about Sam’s potential aversion: it was something nearer shame.

Yes, he thought, of course he was ashamed - he wasn’t afraid of Sam not wanting to touch him; he was guilty that he wanted Sam to touch him when he knew that nobody should have to.

“What’s wrong?” asked Sam, seeing that Gabriel hadn’t moved and was still clutching Sam’s arm.

“I don’t know,” Gabriel mumbled. “I think I might just be stupid.”

“No! You’re not stupid; you’re stressed.”

“I thought - you know, if you wanted to keep your hands to yourself, it’d be justified.”

“What? Listen, if you need something from me, Gabriel - some time to talk, or a hug - ”

“I can ask, I know. But I - ”

“But you don’t.”

“Well yeah, because what if you don’t want me around?”

“Come on, Gabriel, I do want you around.” Sam put a hand on Gabriel’s arm and pulled him in for an embrace. “God, you’re gonna drive yourself crazy.”

“Oh, that ship left the dock a long time ago.”

They sat in silence for several minutes. Sam held onto him, and Gabriel didn’t try to hug back. He just let himself lean against Sam, not speaking, not crying.

“Sam,” he said finally.

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t get it into your head that you can’t leave to do your job. Don’t ever feel guilty about not being in my immediate vicinity just because I’m scared of my own reflection. Okay?”

“Sure, Gabriel. Okay.”

“I really mean it. Don’t let this change the way you operate. I came into your life by accident and you don’t need to take maternity leave for something that shouldn’t have thrown your life into chaos.”

Sam laughed. “I wasn’t working nine to five before you showed up, Gabriel.”

“You know what I mean, don’t you?”

“I do. I get it. You don’t have to worry about that; I’m glad you’re here. I like having you around. I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t being honest.”

Gabriel wasn’t sure how to explain that, in some ways, it would have been easier to accept the notion that Sam was lying.

Instead, he said: “I was so afraid of him, Sam.”

“I know.”

“He … but I was afraid of being left alone, too. Sometimes. I was afraid of the other demons, the ones I didn’t know. I never knew what to expect from them. They had weapons, and tricks, and insults, and - even the stupid ones were terrible; any simpleton can learn what violence is. And they watched him; they knew how to hurt me. They’d seen what he did to me. I was his toy and they were just happy to get a turn.”

Sam stiffened.

“So when you’re gone,” Gabriel whispered into his shoulder, “And I’m here with someone else, anyone else, a little of that just creeps on in. That’s all. I knew you were coming back, but I felt differently. I know Dean doesn’t want to hurt me. Or Cas, or Jack. When it was just me and those two, I didn’t - I knew I wasn’t threatened. None of this crew have ever given me any reason to believe I’m in danger around them. It’s just a dumb feeling.”

Sam sighed. “No, it’s not dumb. But you’re right: they’re not going to do anything to you.”

“When he’d come back,” Gabriel added, “He would brutalize me all over again. Taking my grace whenever there was enough to go around. Beating me until I couldn’t remember my own name. Just tearing me apart in any way he could.” Gabriel shook his head. “Didn’t matter how much I cried. He thought it was funny. ‘What a whiner,’ he’d say. ‘It’s almost like you think you didn’t deserve it.’”

“Gabriel, god!”

“Yeah, and then he’d - you know - off he’d go, leaving me sobbing like a baby. I kept hoping he’d hear me from wherever he was; I thought maybe he’d at least pay me some attention. Even if it was just to yell at me. No one wants to be wailing into their own blood and vomit solo.

“But it was my fault, always my fault. It was always me. I was the one who’d said something out of bounds; I was the one who asked for something I wasn’t supposed to want; I was the one who - who - ” Gabriel pressed himself against Sam. “And if he did show up, he’d ignore me. Turn his back, go about his business. I may as well have been any soul in Hell, just radio static.

“And when he did notice me, when he decided to stop shutting me out, he’d just say to shut up; or sometimes, for whatever reason, he would switch things up and give me a little spoonful of comfort before finding some other reason to grab me off the floor and slam me into the wall and then hold me down so he could play.”

Sam took a shivery breath. “I - yeah. Yeah, okay. Okay.”

“So when you’re gone, Sam, I can’t always think rationally. It’s as if maybe you want nothing to do with me, and the others - well, Sam’s not here to protect this nuisance who’s taken over our lives, so let’s get in what we can. And then it’s - it’s - if you don’t come back, what am I supposed to do? Who am I supposed to trust?”

There was a pause. When Sam replied, he sounded restrained. “I really didn’t think about that.”

“Because there’s no reason to! Because you’ve got a brain that operates according to fact! Whereas mine leaps in any direction it sees fit in response to any threat, any hazard. And Sam, everything is a threat. Everything is a hazard. Compared to you, the others are strangers to me, and I don’t like strangers; I don’t trust them; I don’t know them.”

“I would never leave you with strangers.”

“And you shouldn’t have to leave me with anyone, Sam! I’m supposed to be able to watch over myself like a damn grown-up! But I can’t, not anymore; and who knows if the day will ever come when I’ll be able to take care of myself again? The important thing is I know you aren’t leaving me with strangers. What little remains of my rational mind finds that obvious. But these old ways of thinking, they just - they’re next to impossible for me to shake off.”

“I know.”

“That’s all this is. Old habits. Old ways of looking at what’s around me. Or what’s not.”

“I guess I’m glad you know that.” By now, Sam sounded almost as shaken as Gabriel did.

“If I could just balance out the knowing and the feeling, everything would be a whole lot easier for every single one of us. And one thing I don’t understand is …” But he trailed off, afraid of saying something the wrong way, or of being misunderstood, or - worst of all - overstepping a boundary.

“What?” Sam asked. “What is it, Gabe?”

Gabriel shook his head.

Sam sighed. “Okay. All right.”

“No, it’s … all I was gonna say is that …” Gabriel was glad that Sam couldn’t see his face. “Maybe it’s because you were the only one who really tried, the only one who really showed a lot of concern for this deflated ragdoll of an angel that somehow ended up in your custody like a doorstep newborn. Maybe it’s just something about you, I don’t know. Something you have that the others don’t. I’m not sure, Sam. All I know is I have this - this gut-based terror about losing you. Not necessarily because you’ll get sick of me, but because - because - see, I don’t know. I feel it when you hold me like you are right now; the idea of letting go scares me more than Asmodeus ever did.”

He was afraid to look up, but he did; and Gabriel was horrified to see that Sam’s eyes were glossy with tears.

Gabriel wrenched himself away. “Don’t, don’t do that! I’m not trying to make anyone more upset. It’s not anything you’re doing wrong. It’s not that you could be doing anything different, Sam; you’re better at handling me than anyone has any right or reason to be.”

“Well …” Sam closed his eyes, gathered his composure. “Right.”

“I’m putting so much pressure on you with those words, aren’t I?” Gabriel was shivering now. “I’m making you think you have to be perfect, that you have to be next to me a hundred percent of the time.”

Sam swallowed and shook his head. “No, that’s not what I was thinking. I just wish you didn’t feel that way, is all. I wish you weren’t so … that he hadn’t made you feel like …”

“Right?” said Gabriel. “It’s hard to articulate, isn’t it? I can’t figure it out, and I don’t know what to do with it. Wanting the - needing to be taken care of the way I do lately, and needing it to be you, and being so scared to death that you might be there one second and gone the next. I don’t understand that feeling.

“There’s time to figure it out. Stop trying to force yourself to understand everything, Gabriel. You don’t have to, and it’ll probably come with time.” Sam looked flushed, but his eyes were dry now.

There was a sound from the hallway: a door opening, and small, tentative footsteps. They paused outside the door, and then moved on until neither Gabriel nor Sam could hear them.

“Jack came in and hugged me,” Gabriel told Sam.

“Oh. Sorry about that. I did say - ”

“No, it’s all right. I’m only bringing it up so you know you don’t have to warn him not to touch me. He can touch me. If he wants to.”

“What about what you want?”

“I … no, I just mean that maybe I’m not … not good for …” Gabriel gave a frustrated sigh, still speaking into Sam’s shoulder. “It’s fine.”

“I know you still worry about that.”

“About what?”

“I know that you worry about corrupting Jack.”

“I don’t know that I ever used the word ‘corrupt.’”

“But Gabriel, he cares about you. He looks up to you. And I know you think that’s a bad thing, but he likes you just the way you are now. He knows you’ve been through more than your fair share of trauma. He’s seen you when you’re not feeling your best. And he still wants to be around you. Listen, I’m not here to tell you what to do, but I really don’t think you should push him away.”

“I let him hug me! I’m not pushing him away. I’m trying to protect him.”

“But why? What good do you think is going to come of him seeing that you’re hurt, and walking away without any understanding of what’s going on? It’s better for him if he can learn how to help. Otherwise he’s going to feel like you don’t trust him.”

Gabriel froze. “Has … has he said that to you?”

“Not in so many words, no. He doesn’t always know how to articulate himself, or what’s frustrating him. You’re right: in a lot of ways, he’s just a kid. And I think instead of trying to stop him seeing you like this, you might teach him that wanting to help isn’t a bad thing. I just - I don’t want him to get the idea that he should try not to act the way he does. Loving you, caring about you. If you tell him no, if you keep trying to make him stay away from you when you most need somebody … he might get it into his head that he’s wrong to have those instincts.”

“Wait, what? What does that mean? So I’m - am I corrupting him by making it seem like it’s bad to be compassionate? That’s a whole new kind of crisis.”

“Not corrupting him. Just maybe sending a message that he finds confusing, since it goes against his nature.”

Gabriel considered this for a few moments.

Sam waited.

Then, finally Gabriel asked: “Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know. Back to the kitchen, maybe.”

“I guess I should talk to him, shouldn’t I?”

“You don’t have to. Not right now. Just let him in when he wants to give you what you need.”

“No, I - let me go find him.” Gabriel started to rise from the bed, but Sam gently pulled him back down.

“What?” Gabriel demanded. “You think I shouldn’t talk to him?”

“It’s not that,” Sam replied. “I just want to make sure you’re not mad at yourself.”

“Not any more than usual.”

“If you go to him and say you hate yourself for ‘corrupting’ him any which way, you’re both gonna miss my point.”

“Please,” Gabriel said. “I just - I really - will you please let me talk to him?”

Sam looked pained. “I’m not going to keep you from talking to him. It’s up to you. I just want to make sure you feel okay.”

Gabriel stood up again. “I never feel okay.”

“Why don’t I go get him for you?” Sam suggested.

“You can do that as long as you don’t give him a contract to sign about when it’s okay to touch me.” Gabriel wasn’t sure why this was such a sticking point for him, but Sam’s words about Jack’s natural character, and about his impulses to express affection, made it seem more logical.

“I’ll get him for you,” Sam repeated. “Gabriel - ”

“Please, Sam. Either you can grab the kid or I can, but I really want to talk to him.”

Sam nodded, studying him, making sure. Then he patted Gabriel on the shoulder and left the room.

Jack came in a couple of minutes later, looking nervous.

“Hey, bud,” said Gabriel.

Jack raised a hand in a silent, tentative greeting.

“Wanted to have a word. Sit?”

Jack sat beside him. “Am I in trouble?”

“Oh, please. You sound like your uncle.”

“Listen, if this is about me hugging you …”

“No, come on, kid; you didn’t do anything wrong.” Gabriel worried that Jack was picking up on some of his more neurotic interpersonal habits. “I wanted to thank you. And before you ask for what, you should know that you’re … you’re good, you’re a good bean; and I’m the one who isn’t doing what I should be. I’m not - Jack, I don’t mean to tell you to bug off when I know you only mean to help.”

“I know you think I’m too - ”

“I don’t think you’re too anything. I think I’m too - too me to let you get past a whole lot of nonsense. Look, I don’t wanna make this more complicated than it has to be; what I’m trying to say is that I’m not proud of myself for swatting at you like a fly when, in a perfect world, everybody would be like you.”

“Oh.” Jack looked down at his knees, thoughtful and perplexed.

“Don’t try to change yourself on account of my orneriness,” Gabriel clarified. “Be nice. Be good. Be you. You’ll just have to be patient with your stubborn old uncle. Sam can tell you that I’m difficult.”

Jack looked back up at him.

“Do you get what I’m saying?” Gabriel asked. “I don’t know how to explain it any more eloquently than that.”

Jack nodded. “I think I do.” Gabriel waited for him to explain the concept, to paraphrase what he had just been told; but Jack said nothing, and Gabriel could only assume that the message had gotten through.

Finally, Jack replied, “I’m sorry too.”

“No - kid - I’m trying to say you have nothing - ”

“I mean I’m sorry about what happened to you. I’m sorry you got hurt. That’s all.”

Gabriel clamped his lips shut. He could only nod.

Jack stared at him, studying him, reading him like a map.

Gabriel gave a hoarse laugh. “Is there something in my teeth?”

“Do you want me to go get Sam?” Jack asked.

“No.”

“You looked like - ”

“I always look like that. Anyway, Jack, I hope you understand - at least a teensy bit - what it is I’m trying to explain to you. I’m sorry that I can’t wrangle a single thought into words.”

“I think I understand.” Jack hesitated, then asked: “So how can I help? What can I do?”

“Ah, I don’t know; you’ve already been doing everything right. I’m the one who’s trying to fight you on it. So just … just keep doing what you’re doing.” It pained Gabriel to say it. He agreed with Sam, but he could hardly stomach the instant guilt that came with implicitly encouraging Jack to watch Gabriel struggle.

Jack smiled, and Gabriel thought he saw relief in his eyes. “Okay. Sure. Thanks.”

“Oh, please. Thank you.” Gabriel felt that he ought to try and touch Jack and was ashamed that he couldn’t bring himself to initiate contact.

Someday, he told himself.

Jack stood up to go. “I hope you feel better later.”

“I already do.”

“You look - ”

Gabriel held up a hand. “Again: I always look like that.”

Sam reentered immediately after Jack made his exit. He looked tense and wide-eyed and was evidently trying to conceal his agitation. “Hey.”

“I’m fine,” said Gabriel.

“Did it - ”

“Everyone’s fine, Sam.”

“Listen,” Sam said, stepping over to the bed, “I really didn’t mean to make you think you were doing something wrong.”

“Except that I was doing something wrong, and I’m old enough to learn from my mistakes, so don’t apologize for straightening me out.”

“I’m not trying to make you do anything. I’m not trying to put pressure on you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel sighed and closed his eyes. It seemed that those hours of sleep had been anything but restful. “If you don’t drag my attention to where it really belongs, nothing’s ever gonna get set right. I told you, there is a wrong way to do this. Sometimes I see it, and sometimes I don’t. And if you’re going to fight me on that, if you wanna say there’s no 'wrong' way, then how about this? There’s a better way.”

“Well, Jack looked calmer for sure. How about you? You feeling better?”

Gabriel considered, and then shook his head. The lopsidedness of an afternoon cleaved by turbulent slumber had left a stinging headache, and the nightmare had nested in the pit of his stomach, souring his whole body.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have used your grace on me,” Sam lamented. “Don’t try again for a while, okay?”

“It’s not that. I can feel that that’s not what’s wrong with me. It’s what I said to you earlier; it’s me being afraid of everything.”

Sam retook his place on the bed. Although there was no way to see outdoors, Gabriel could feel the afternoon darkening into evening. Neither of them spoke.

He was painfully aware that Sam felt familiar to him. Sam was safe; he wasn’t going to try and harm Gabriel. Somehow that knowledge made everything much more complicated - in part, Gabriel realized, because there seemed no way to explain the feeling without coming off as saccharine, puerile, or both.

Although he was no longer crying (however much he wanted to), Gabriel hoped Sam would touch him. He thought about asking and couldn’t bring himself to say a word.

After several minutes of complete silence, Gabriel spoke. “Did you fight back?”

Sam frowned. “What?”

“The hamster, the gerbil, whatever it was. Did you fight back, or was it too precious to hurt?”

“There wasn’t much I could do. It was vicious.”

“Was it? Or are you just tender-hearted?”

“Gabriel, you saw what it did to my hand.”

Gabriel glanced down at the hand that had been injured. “Yeah. I don’t know, I feel like maybe you didn’t want to hurt the little thing.”

Sam seemed amused. “Why would you say that?”

Gabriel reached out and took Sam’s hand. Sam seemed surprised, but held on firmly.

“Just because I know you,” Gabriel told him. “I know you too well.”

#supernatural #spn #fanfiction #sam winchester #gabriel #jack kline #sabriel #platonic #friendship #hurt/comfort #asmodeus #season 13 #gabriel lives #ptsd #pasf #post-asmodeus sabriel feels

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doctorthasmin · 4 years

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The Doctor is fixing Graham’s microwave in her lab/workshop on the Tardis, enjoying Graham’s gentle whistling as she welds the split panel back together. It wasn’t entirely her fault it was broken, Ryan has to stop daring her to do things when the adults aren’t around, she has no impulse control this go round.

“I was thinking about your pet request this morning.” Graham starts, leaning back on her table his hands in his pockets, the Doctor remarks for the first time he really does look like a Grandad, his silver hair parted on the side.

“Gary’s out there, I’ll find him, or her maybe Gertrude is waiting for me.” The Doctor sings, sliding the outside microwave cover onto the back, sighing as it clicks into place. She loves fixing things, even if she did break it in the first place.

“Well I’d like to buy you Gary or Gertrude whoever takes your fancy in the pet store.” Graham says, smiling broadly as she looks up, her magnifying glasses still on making her look like some deranged Disney character.

“You don’t have to Graham, I’ll sort something out.” The Doctor brushes off, cleaning her hands free of the grime. Graham rolls his eyes before standing back up, putting his hands on her small shoulders.

“I know you can, but I’d like to do this for you, if you’ll let me.” Graham pushes, eyeballing her until she relents nodding with a grin.

“Okay, should we go now?” The Doctor asks, hopping on the spot in excitement, as they leave the workshop moving into the corridor.

“Well yeah, but first things first, we need to make the Tardis pet safe, so for the love of god put the damn pool out would ya?” Graham suggests a look of disbelief as he opens the door to the pool room to see it’s still burning away merrily.

“Yeahhhh. An experiment gone wrong this like.” The Doctor muses, shaking her coat off and rolling her sleeves up.

“Care to fill me in on how that’s even possible? I swam in that recently it was just chlorinated water.” Graham asks as they step into the room closing the door behind them.

“Well Graham, as you know I don’t sleep. And sometimes when you lot are off dreaming about whatever it is you humans dream about, I attempt to tackle the problems facing certain eras or planets, without breaking the structure of time as they say.” The Doctor rambles, moving cautiously round the pool to the far corner.

“I heard nothing but when we sleep and you not unravelling the universe.” Graham shouted, his arm over his face to shield him from the heat accumulating in the room.

“I GET BORED GRAHAM! Thought I’d solve a fuel crisis on this water planet called Zerli, great place fantastic sushi honestly. But they’re in a little constellation that no ones reached, well every really, so I figured it would do no harm to intervene with a solution to their little fuel problem.” The Doctor yells back, sorting through the mess of levers finding the right one with a fist pump she pushes it all the way down, draining the pool of liquid fire slowly. The Doctor moves back carefully towards Graham, who hands her back her coat.

“Well bang up job there Doc, you��d set there entire planet on fire with whatever this fuel is.” Graham giggles, the heat getting to him, as they stumble towards the door.

“Field testing is super important, I’m just glad I was too lazy to travel to some lake like I’d originally planned. Can see the headlines now, you humans freak out when the supposedly impossible happens.” The Doctor remarks, sliding her coat back on as they move towards the console.

“Well if you’re going to have a pet gerbil, for the love of god let’s get the little thing a ball he can roll around in, keep him safe from experiments that go awry.” Graham suggests, earning a thumbs up from the Doctor in agreement.

“Where are Yaz and Ryan by the way?” The Doctor asks as they step out into the chilly autumn wind.

“Oh did you not hear? Yaz is bringing him round to meet the family after Sonya told her she really likes him, he even wore a tie, bless.” Graham said beaming from cheek to cheek. The Doctor smiles back, tucking her arm through his as they stroll towards the shops.

Just a little Doctor and Graham bonding today! And an explanation for the pool on fire, she was just trying her best to help okay 🙈 As always thanks to all who reply on my posts with comments they’re much appreciated. If anyone has any prompts feel free to send them along! Reblogs are always welcome! 😊 Stories posted every Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

#doctor who #thirteenth doctor #graham o'brien #incorrect who #doctorthasmin stories

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peachpety · 4 years

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me, myself, & i

@alxmeg, Hi sweetness! Thank you so much for tagging me. This was so much fun!

Name: Peach (my nickname since my day of birth), peachpety is my handle both here and on AO3.

Fandoms: HP, mainly, but Voltron was my gateway. I was a true lurker there, very fringe, and I don’t partake anymore. Drarry definitely is my #1, but I love rarepairs as well. Big fan of Captive Prince! I love webcomics, graphic novels, lovelovelove! Heartstopper, Eyes On Me, Boyfriends, Banana Scandal LOTS MORE lol. I support many artists on Patreon, and read vociferously on Tapas. If it’s got a Blond/Dark Hair pairing you can believe I’m ALL OVER IT.

Where you post: AO3 under peachpety, and here on tumblr.

Most popular oneshot: On AO3 it’s Draco L. Malfoy vs The Weasley Jumper and on tumblr it’s Psycho, both from my 31 Autumn Drarry Drabbles Series.

Most popular multichap: SOON COMING...? lol. I’ve not ventured into multi-chap yet, but things are in the works (looking at you 25 Days and Big Bang!)

Favorite story you've written so far: Oh gosh! I was asked recently to pick my favorite and I have to say...I love all my fics for different reasons. BUT I will say that my most recent fic for HP Sudsfest, Color Me Enamored, is my favorite. I had so much fun delving into emotions depicted as color, and I love writing a more mature, 40 year old Drarry.

Fic you were nervous to post: My Wireless fic, Love Found. Without hesitation, without question. It was my first Fest, my second only posting of fanfic ever, and I thought, sure, let’s pick a prompt from a fandom legend (and gift it to them! like hi, hello, you don’t know me. but HERE IS THIS THING I WROTE, gah), lemme re-write the Tower scene from HBP with our 16yo boys engaged in (off-screen, non-explicit) sexual activity and ALSO have a possibly triggering creepy character interaction. I’d lost my beta right from the start, and I was so green in the fandom and to fanfiction writing! I asked the few lovely, wonderful folks I’d interacted with for help, and they were lovely and wonderful (BLESS THEIR HEARTS). They had to talk me off the ledge many, many, many times. I nearly pulled the damn thing! I cried literal tears over this fic and cursed past me in the endeavor. It’s the one I fretted over the most, worked the hardest on...so yea. That One.

How you choose your titles: I usually pick from something in the story, words I’ve written or some theme or phrase that jumps out at me.

Do you outline: I am terrible at outlining. I write non-linear stream of consciousness...in all caps for first drafts. Lots of bullets. I’m starting to venture into outlining, however, for the chaptered things. And grumbling the entire time...

Complete: I’ve 45 completed works on AO3.

In progress: I’ve a series, Days of Our Magical Lives, in the works...Moving Day, the sequel to Laundry Day is nearly complete. I’m also planning and writing for 25 Days Advent.

Coming soon/not started: I’m SERIOUSLY considering Big Bang, though the word count scares the bejeezus out of me. And I’ve something I’d LOVE to do for LCD. Both are anon fests, so I can’t get into deets!

Prompts? I’ve never prompted, but it’s on my To Consider list for 2021. And I’m always open to prompts/asks to write! Things like art, pictures...even conversations on the Drarry Discord have sparked my inner creative gerbil to hop on its wheel. I had the MOST fun writing my Autumn Drabbles from prompts. I work best from prompts!!

Upcoming work you're most excited about: That would be the things I’ve planned for 25 Days Advent.

I am tagging @mystickitten42 @cdav @veelawings @thesleepiesthufflepuff @bonesliketambourines @static-abyss @curlyy-hair-dont-care @shealwaysreads @thusspoketrish and any one else who wants to join! tag me so i can read your responses!

Apologies for cross posts, and as always, no obligations!

#about me #this was fun!

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sunlitneon · 4 years

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The Ultimate End to Junk Mail

I am no longer my nearby place's best patron yet they continue to send me direct mail. I'm not inquisitive about double glazing, Custom Made Jewellery splendor packages or my new regions pizza parlour. Yet I become with coupon offers for own family sized pizza offers and spray tan programs.

It doesn't count how an awful lot green manipulate you have got at the inside of your house, unsolicited mail will discover its way to you.

Don't worry, you may considerably lessen it.

(To highlight you can't a hundred% forestall direct mail and I'll give an explanation for why further down.)

Firstly, you are probable thinking why I am talking approximately direct mail right?

In a nutshell, forests are reduce down and worked right into a water pulp mixture that when manipulation, creates the lovely factor we name paper.

The paper is then shipped to companies who print on it after which ship it to you.

Did you already know that Junk mail produces extra greenhouse fuel emissions than nine million vehicles?

HOW TO STOP RECEIVING JUNK MAIL

We all understand the significance that bushes should maintain our ecosystems and international temperature. If we forestall the call for for direct mail, we will lessen further environmental effect.

It is so smooth to pick out up the undesirable mail and throw it straight into the recycling bin.

Yes, it'll be recycled however the company who despatched the mail would not recognise you probably did no longer need to obtain it. And if they may be never advised their ability customers do now not want to acquire their mail, they may hold to ship it and retain to purpose environmental destruction.

First, you want to pick out the 2 sorts of direct mail you could receive, named and non-named.

Named mail is what comes thru your door addressed to a person in your own home.

And non-named, yes, you guessed it, are the letters that are not addressed to all people.

They likely kingdom something along the traces of 'To the Owner', 'To the brand new proprietor of a exceptional brief net company.'

HOW TO STOP RECEIVING NAMED MAIL

*Opt out of advertising lists

If you sign on for whatever that asks for your own home deal with, make sure you're taking out a magnifying glass and search for any statistics that explains the advertising phrases.

Usually, with out you confirming so, agencies and companies will upload you to their marketing mailing lists unless you country in any other case.

If you don't opt-out for advertising and marketing records, to procure your self a massive heap of direct mail. Imagine it like the scene from Harry Potter... "NO POST ON SUNDAYS."

*Register without cost with MPS (UK simplest)

MPS will get rid of your call and deal with from the UK enterprise lists of income promotions, marketing and direct advertising.

Take notice, it is able to absorb to 4 months till you note a discount in any undesirable named mail.

*Contact your nearby electoral roll register office

Ask you nearby register workplace to take away you from the open check in.

The open sign up includes your complete name and deal with and can be purchased by using a member of the public, businesses and advertising administrators.

*Swap all of your paper billing to online

A simple piece of recommendation, however you will be surprised at how often that is neglected.

*Contact the sender at once

Contact the sender through e-mail or cellphone and inform them you want to now not obtain any mail from them with on the spot effect.

*Return the junk mail without delay to the sender

Cross out your cope with and write 'junk mail, please return to sender' on the envelope.

You don't ought to pay any postage for the return, but the sender might get hold of a return price.

The return fee makes it much more likely that motion will be taken to dispose of you from their advertising and marketing listing.

HOW TO STOP RECEIVING NON-NAMED MAIL

Have you ever puzzled how direct mail not addressed to anyone in your home falls through your letterbox?

E.G Domino's commercials and your local window glazing enterprise?

*Notify Royal Mail

Thanks to Royal mail, they have got the job of delivering leaflets to every residence.

You can opt out via sending them an e-mail that informs them you no longer want to get hold of advertising mail.

They will send you a letter which you need to sign and ship again to them.

Take word, it could take in to 6 weeks before you noticed a discount within the marketing non-named mail and the opt-out carrier simplest lasts for 2 years.

*Make a signal or a poster

Get innovative and make a poster that states you do not need to receive junk mail.

Stick it in your letterbox, make sure it's especially close to the doorway of the letter container. (Not everyone will notice the sign inside the backside nook of a window.)

*State precisely what mail you do not want to acquire.

Not all people will think their commercials for their newly opened beauty salon is taken into consideration junk mail to your household.

Remember- Try to make your own poster earlier than you print one.

*Contact the sender directly

Contact the sender by way of electronic mail or phone, inform them you wish to no longer receive any mail from them with on the spot effect.

*Return the unsolicited mail immediately to the sender

Cross out your address and write 'direct mail, please return to sender' at the envelope.

You do not should pay any postage for the go back, however the sender would acquire a go back fee.

The go back charge makes it much more likely that motion may be taken to do away with you from their advertising and marketing listing.

BUT, I'M STILL GETTING JUNK MAIL?

Okay, so let's consider you're nevertheless getting junk mail.

Unfortunately, humans (especially those who are spreading the phrase approximately their nearby commercial enterprise) will forget about your no direct mail poster.

Don't worry, there are approaches to reuse your unsolicited mail earlier than you positioned it on your recycling bin.

Here are some thoughts to get your brain juice going.

Note-paper - Use the returned of direct mail letters as word paper

Card layout - Reuse the designs to make Celebration playing cards and gift tags

Compost - Add brown envelopes and white non-glossy paper in your compost pile.

Remove - Any plastic home windows and tacky glue strips first

Recycle - Add the paper to your recycling bin

Stuff things with it - You could make draught excluders and pin cushions in case you package the paper tightly and overlay a thick cloth

Animal bedding - Hamsters and gerbils need bedding, save yourself a few pennies by means of shredding your junk mail

Paper mache - Get innovative and build structures along with your kids of for yourself

Paper baskets - You can fold and coil paper strips to make baskets or any length you fancy

Jewellery - Just as above, you may coil the paper into any form you need and put on it as an excellent looking piece of jewellery.

Seed pots - You can make a container and use that as an opportunity to plastic plant pots. Better yet, the self-made seed pot can be positioned immediately into the floor.

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gerbiloftriumph · 5 years

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So you wanna be a king (pt2)

(or at least cosplay one.)

Continuing the cosplay creation saga for anyone interested, here’s how I put together my King Graham cosplay:

Part 2: Jerkin

Disclaimer: I’m totally novice at cosplay and only do it for like one event per year if that, so take what you will or throw it all away.

Also this is not really a step by step tutorial post because this is several years ago and the details are hazy.

If you’re following along, then you should have a cloak and cowl (click for sort-of-instructions-here).

Step one: Pull out those reference screencaps you made in the first part and stare at them. Repeat that you still love this character and that you’re committed to this nonsense. Ready? Let’s go.

The long sleeved purple undershirt I just happened to find at Goodwill. Please try to find something lightweight--this costume is warm.

But you won’t be so lucky to find a jerkin at Goodwill too. You’ll have to make it, or at least modify something.

Still, it’s just an elaborate brown tank top, more or less. You don’t even have to worry about attaching sleeves! Surely this is an eas--wait, what are those lace things? Could you even bend down to pick up inventory items with laces that thick and close together? How can I translate that into something semi-practical I can wear without wanting to eat my adventuring hat?

It’s a great design, but I’m mortal, not digital. If you can determine a simple way to get that lacing to look accurate while still being comfortably wearable, let me, novice cosplayer that I am, know. (maybe if they were just made separately, flat, and sewn on, like a decal thing?)

I had planned on building this out of fake leather/suede-ish material, but then I remembered I wanted to also wear this as my new RenFest costume, and I didn’t want to die in July.

So I went to my local Joann’s and picked up a considerably lighter, thinner, and satisfactorily rich looking brown fabric (I think it was this stuff: https://www.joann.com/kona-cotton-solid-quilt-fabric/1378397.html) for both jerkin and bracers. I’ve lost the original receipt, so I’m not sure how much I bought. Too much, because my storage bin is full of leftovers. I’m sure 3 yards is more than plenty, but measure to be sure.

Tunic time!

This is the point where the “How To Graham” tutorial breaks down and becomes especially fuzzy and experimental, because I kept none of my in-process notes. High five, Gerbil, very helpful indeed. You might just want to glance at this for ideas before doing your own thing.

I laugh in the face of patterns, hahahaha. (bad idea, don’t be me.)

I got my favorite fitted t-shirt (Disney Afternoon ftw), paper, a ruler, and old scrap fabric to maul as practice. I pinned my shirt flat to paper and traced both the front and back separately (folded the sleeves in so my tracework was sleeveless). The front had a deeper neckline but was otherwise nearly identical to its back partner. Once both sides were traced, I added a half inch margin around them, cut them out, and started working on fake jerkins, so I could sculpt the right fit before I got out the nice fabric. I wanted the jerkin to be pretty form fitting as Graham’s is, so I curved the sides in a bit deeper.

I made at least two fake jerkins, fyi.

Since I went pattern-less (hahahaarrgh), tests were crucial, especially regarding the neck hole. The t-shirt is elastic, but my fabric is not. I personally require at least 22″ around the neck to get the thing over my nose, and it’s barely enough clearance. (I’m fairly certain I measured some other shirts with my fabric ruler for a loose size to aim for, then did edits on the junk fabric til I had a size that worked.)

Tests also showed that the back piece needed an additional two and a half inches of fabric on the bottom thanks to how it sits on my shoulders. In the above image, you can see the green fabric is higher, but I wanted the piece to look balanced from the side.

It’s a touch hard to see as it’s usually hidden by the cloak, but I find a balanced jerkin is a happy jerkin.

And here’s that additional fabric without a human in it. (ack don’t look at my uneven stitches)

By now, you should have a belt (in my method it doesn’t matter how it clasps, so pick any belt you please as you’ll be wearing it backward) so you can determine how long the flappy things on the front and back should be. Where your belt sits comfortably is where your side laces will stop and your trim on the flap things will start--the belt hides the transition.

Graham’s belt sits low on his (fantastically defined) hips. I prefer it on my waist so it doesn’t slide up when I’m walking, so my flap things are longer than his. For reference, my flap things...no, wait, there must be a technical term....Google says it’s a peplum. My peplum (??) are 8″ish long, though his look like they’re about half that.

For reference, as a 5′6″ person, from hanger to hem my jerkin’s back piece is approximately 28″ long. The most important things here are how long it is overall, and if the neck hole is big enough to fit over your head: nearly everything else can be altered when wearing it via the lacework I have planned.

Look, at this point, you might want to give up on me and find a real shirt pattern, fitted or not. I understand. I’ll wait. This isn’t actually a step by step tutorial so much as a vague What I Did And It’s Probably Wrong.

Okay, you’ve traced your favorite shirt (or bought a real pattern like a good person). Your tests have shown that your peplum sit at the same height on your leg, and you like the shape and feel of it when you wear your scrap fabric test (I recommend using safety pins to replicate the laces during the early size test phase). You’ve cut out the front and back shirt shaped pieces of brown fabric (with that half inch hem margin all around), and now they’re sitting on your floor, mocking you.

The actual construction part!

The only attachment you’ll give these pieces is via the shoulders. If you’re new to this Making Your Own Clothes thing and your fabric has a nice side and a not nice side, put the nice sides against each other and sew along the not nice side so when you turn it over your hem is inside.

I seam-ripped a collar from a shirt I loved but was too worn to wear otherwise--no math or sewing your own collar from scratch if you swipe it from another shirt. No one will ever see it since your cowl tucks into it, so it doesn’t matter how it looks, though natural colors are better than, say, blue, in case your cowl slips a bit. There are lots of lovely videos about attaching collars: this one seems nice, if you skip ahead to the actual sewing-on part at 4:50. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k31FWDp1s5I

At this point, since you’ve fitted it and trimmed it and done all that you want to it to get the shape you like, you’ll want to hem your shirt by that half inch margin all around so it’s clean and easy for the next part. It only looks vaguely shirt-like now since it’s held together just by the shoulders.

Now, let’s get medieval on it.

Time for lacing!

I used a blond suede leather rope to mimic the lighter color on Graham’s sides (check the beading or leather working section of the craft stores, and make sure it’s thick enough that it won’t snap under light strain, and thin enough it’ll fit through the grommet size you select). I already happened to own an anvil (...why?), so I just needed grommets. Mine appear to be 12mm--I got them in Ancient Copper. You’ll use them in the bracers later, too, so leftovers are a good thing for once. Hobby Lobby or Michaels can hook you up with supplies, but Etsy and eBay have more diverse color choices.

Every inch from where the armpit opening stops to where the trim of the peplums begins (the height of which was established earlier when I decided to how to wear the belt), I made a mark for a grommet, and marked its corresponding partner. For reference, I have 9 holes down each hem, for 18 total holes per side, and a grand total 36 grommets in the tunic. I jammed an awl through the holes marked and applied the grommets as per the packet’s instruction.

Like making a metal and fabric sandwich. With a hammer.

It’s totally therapeutic. I can see why Amaya’s into this stuff.

(It’s not a Looney Toons anvil, by the by: like this, instead.)

Unspool the suede rope and thread it through the grommets. To try and mimic the game, I use a ladder shoelace tie, starting with the grommet pair beneath the arms and running down until I tie a bow in the last pair. I tuck the loose ends into the waistband of the trousers. So, this: https://www.fieggen.com/shoelace/ladderlacing.htm

Finally, I made (because I couldn’t find to buy) my own trim about 1/2″ wide from some scrap light brown suede in the Joann Scrap Bin, and attached it to the peplum (is this truly a better word than flap, vote now).

And that, friend, is a jerkin that would make any real medieval person flinch but should be cool for cosplay. You should try it with your cloak and cowl. If you’re following my method, you get to layer up, lucky you: anchor shirt, long-sleeved-purple-undershirt, jerkin, cloak (snaps through the jerkin’s collar onto the anchor shirt), cowl (to cover your shoulders so you don’t see the cloak tugging at your jerkin collar).

Yeah, it’s warm. Sorry.

Drink some water.

When you’re done sweating in it (eww, I know it’s awful, sorry), handwash it. Strip the rope out of the grommets, use handwashing detergent in a (clean!) bathroom sink, then hang it over a bathtub to dry before relacing it using that ladder shoelace technique and storing it on a hanger. I always have it laced, and pull it on over my head with it laced, too.

And with that, you’ve got about half of your entire cosplay done. Congrats! Take some time to relaaaax. You’re gonna be a king.

(is this helpful at all to anyone? should i keep going?)

(peplum?? really????)

#King's Quest #kings quest #King Graham #cosplay #ack i'm sorry this is probably zero help whatsoever #tutorial

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drawingconclusions · 4 years

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THE 2020 ELECTION

Again, everyone and their gerbil is chiming in about the upcoming election, so I figure I should join in, too. Before continuing, you should know I haven't been studying anyone else's reasoning for which candidate they'll support. What I'm writing now is something I've been planning on doing for several weeks. So enough with the preliminaries, let me come right out with it.

I'll be voting for Trump and Pence this election. As I've said before, there are some of Trump's tweets that makes me wince, and certain public spats he gets involved in which I sometimes find completely unnecessary. But it's my opinion that the Trump/Pence ticket is the best choice for America at this point in time.

I suppose I could focus on the positive things Trump has done and act as a cheerleader for his campaign. But there are people who get paid to do that. And besides, you can look all that up for yourself (although you may have to do some digging, considering how the mainstream media hardly talk about it). But right now I'm going to mostly focus on something else, on why I can't vote for the Democrats.

First of all, it took far too long for the Biden campaign to denounce the violent protests that occurred throughout America over the past summer. In fact, some of Biden's staffers even chipped in to provide bail for the destructive anarchists who were causing the damage. So that makes me seriously wonder about their commitment to peace and whether their campaign will engage in machiavellian tendencies to anarchy, which you know I can't support.

If you're concerned about censorship in social media or in other aspects of life, then you may want to reconsider supporting a Democrat in the 2020 election. If you recall, the tech companies who have been engaging in censorship of conservative content or content that could potentially harm Democrat candidates are the same ones who were nearly brought to tears when Hillary Clinton lost the election in 2016. They've made no secret of their support for left-leaning causes and candidates, and if Biden & Harris are elected, I suspect dissidents and people with what they consider the "wrong ideas" will likely experience censorship on a more widespread level. I heard a report that the Biden campaign actually requested that Facebook begin to censor the Trump campaign. And remember, the left is the party that in some quarters declared that "speech is violence" and actively engaged in silencing speakers (sometimes violently) on American campuses. Freedom of speech is a bedrock of America. If you value it, then you should really stop and consider which candidates will fight for it and which ones will casually erode our treasured freedoms without even batting an eye.

I cannot support the left's abhorrent disregard for human life and I can never forget Governor Northam's talk about keeping a newborn baby "comfortable" while the parents gibly decide whether to keep it alive or not. Infanticide is still infanticide no matter how you may describe it. Many Democrats support unlimited abortion (or infanticide) for any reason, and I can't embrace that. And as for the thousands of elderly coronavirus deaths from nursing homes in Democrat-run states, that's an issue for another day that deserves its very own post.

The left has repeatedly made clear their disdain for people of faith. Just look at how Democrats treated Kavanaugh during his confirmation hearing in 2019 and how they treated Amy Coney Barrett during her previous confirmation. Take some time and do research on how many companies & organizations besides Amazon follow the Southern Poverty Law Center's guidelines for charity giving, etc. According to them and others, many faith-based organizations are considered some kind of threat to society for simply believing (as I do) that marriage is defined as a relationship between a man and a woman. And does anyone remember how some Democrat localities and states treated churches & people who tried to attend services during the pandemic? It's just a hunch, but I have a feeling that would likely continue and possibly increase under a potential Democrat administration.

I know there are some Republicans who pay lip service to faith, if only just to gain votes. And I'm not terribly concerned about either the right or the left trying to stamp out people of faith. God is sovereign and He's in control of it all, not them. Christianity & Judaism have persevered for centuries despite severe persecution at times. God's kingdom is the rock from the vision of the book of Daniel, the heavenly kingdom that will supersede and outlast all earthly kingdoms. I speak out for freedom of religion because I don't want to see America become another communist China or socialist Venezuela where both Muslims & Christians alike are targeted for what they believe.

This not-so-recent behavior of the left to attempt to change the rules if you don't like how something turns out is another reason why I can't vote Democrat this election. Look, I'm not naïve enough to believe that Democrats are the only ones who are willing to do this. Republicans have likely also been guilty of this in terms of redistricting of voter precincts, etc. But I'm just a bit astounded (and not astounded) by the fact that Nancy Pelosi & others have proposed creating an oversight committee to decide any President's fitness for leadership, and by the various calls from the left to literally pack the Supreme Court by adding more than nine judges (and likely potentially left-leaning judges). Presidents are decided by the public & the electoral college, not by a Congressional committee & unelected board members, and the Supreme Court isn't meant to be some kind of factory for churning out legislation. They're there to evaluate laws, not make them.

And I know I'm being long-winded here, but if you would just bear with me for just a little more. The progressive left have made it public that electing Joe Biden is "a doorway to a destination". In other words, Biden isn't liberal enough for them, and if he is elected, they'll push to enact their own aggresively liberal agenda in all of its toxic forms. In my opinion, there are too many far-left liberals in all aspects of government already who have done lasting damage to America. Do you really think Lt. Col. Vindman is the only liberal in the military who strives to advance their own agenda at the expense of the country? What could have been if Lt. Col. Vindman & the Democrats in Congress had chosen to focus on preparing for this pandemic instead of spending time on an unnecessary impeachment in November & December of 2019? And do you really think Sheriff Scott Israel is the only liberal in law enforcement who would rather talk about gun control instead of focusing on the real causes & other potential solutions to society's problems? I know there are good people who work in government, but I've seen others who have become nearly psychotic in their pursuit of baseless investigations and mindless causes, so much so that I'm truly concerned about our national & local security with some of these types of people in charge. And heaven help us if green new deal subjects like cow flatulence become a top priority for America in 2021 and beyond.

Unfortunately, many of these people, or liberal activists to be more accurate, can't be voted out. But that's why I'm voting for Trump & Pence this election. I believe they're the best chance we have for addressing the problems & excesses of unelected bureacrats in government. I know that Republicans sometimes give a free-pass to certain organizations. And I realize that conservatism doesn't always equal Christianity. Sometimes they do a disservice to America's other immigrants by lumping the bad ones with the good ones. The Bible says to lookout for the alien or immigrant (...but I agree with Republicans that doesn't mean open borders or being lax on immigrants who have committed heinous crimes.) And sometimes conservatives become far too chummy with corporations at the expense of the common people, when they should be fighting injustice wherever it's found. But this is how I'll be voting in this election. Of course there are some local Republicans I still can't support, and if the Republican party ever veers off into a completely crazy zone, I'll drop my support. I'm not bound to one party or the other.

And I hope you'll take what I've written today and evaluate it for yourself. Don't let me or anyone else do your thinking for you. Do your own homework, look at the issues, and cast your vote. Future generations will thank you for it.

#vote2020 #vote #election2020 #2020 election

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borisbubbles · 5 years

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Eurovision 2010s: 45 - 41

45. Rasmussen - “Higher ground” Denmark 2018

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[2018 Review here]

FRIZ DEE YERRO, WINDY YERRRRR

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Remember when Christer rejected “Higher ground” from Melfest and it was the fucking WORST Melfest ever? Remember how Denmark recycled it and let it win DMGP? Well...

OOOOOOOOOOOOOWNED SO HARD!! and not just Sweden to be honest, because “Higher ground” slaps, even a full year after the fact. It’s a paragon of righteous scandi energy, conceived in a mancave over a keg of mead, inspired by a tale of medival pacifism (which actually makes it non-toxicly masculine), imprinted on by Game of Thrones (a wonderful tv series that ended when the White Walkers melted down the ice wall and murdered everybody in Westeros ^__^)

In a nutshell, an absolutely kick ass entry.

Truth be told, it is IMPOSSIBLE to not get up from my chair, pound my chest and march along with the Old Norse (😍) post-chorus chanting. Rasmussen DELIVERS a performance so intense it rips the space/time continuum and creates a portal to the good old Viking days. 100% deserving of being 2018′s KEiiNO and the highest Danish entry on this ranking!

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44. Pasha Parfeny - “Lăutar” Moldova 2012

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THIS DRAMPET MAKES U MIME GIRL

Pasha Parfeny looks like this now:

😬

Years of being awesome clearly took their toll on poor Pasha, but I will cherish him for the fountain of fun he has always been. “Lăutar” is such an uninhibited display for Moldovan FOLK, bringing out the dulcimers, horns and “drampets” to bring a much-needed ethic palate cleanser after the musical genocide committed on the Baku Stage. It also features some of the best dance choreography found in this decade, in which Pasha and dancers hop around the stage like overexcited gerbils <3

(btw: the pink dancer SLAYS me every single time.)

Such a frivolous, playful, adorable act that radiates mirth from every pore. 😍 But wait, we aren’t done, because “ Lăutar” also features some of the more memorable, hilarious, iconic butcherings of the English language found in this decade (”You haven’t seen before the looks like drampet. 😍 Butter sound go straight to ur soul”😍). It certainly helps that Pasha is like a male Ruslana, struggling to express himself and resulting some hilarious awkward interview gold (Eurovision.tv: “Pasha, what is your secret for happiness” Pasha: “Make good sex ^__^” Eurovision.tv: “. . .” 😍)

Naturally, a Pasha write-up cannot be finished without noting how central he is to ‘Moldova in Eurovision’, almost as much as Moldova’s staging is. This little man’s (literally. He’s like 1.65m lol) musical legacy includes:

- writing and performing Lăutar in 2012 - being a former vocalist for Sunstroke Project - being the mentor of Aliona Moon and writing her 2013 song - being the original songwriter for DoReDoS before Kirkorov took over In other words, he is ~CONNECTED~ to every epic, high-tier Moldovan entry. WHAT AN ICON. Stay Safe Pavel!!

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43. Dino Merlin - “Love in rewind” Bosnia - Herzegovina 2011

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Finishing 6th place from the death slot when will ur faves...x Man I do love my narrative entries, and it doesn’t get much better than an old man reflecting back on his life’s had, satisfied with its outcome. It’s such a c00t premise and Dino Merlin plays the part of the adorable grandfather with conviction. 😍 Even manages to transform Maja Sar into a fun hume for once:

“Love in rewind” really is all about the group effort. Dino himself is of course fantastic and makes this performance, but his troupe of ragtag troubadours carry a lot of weight as well, providing a wackadoodle wonderland for Dino to project his nostalgia onto.

And then there’s the question of “Love in rewind” itself. It is easy to lump it in with all the other frivolous folk, but in reality it’s an experimental avant garde song disguised as folk 😈 (exactly like “Putnici”, in fact!). The song is made into an artform by a few unorthodox, sudden key changes. Key changes hated by the millennial wannabe pitchfork crew, but here at BorisBubbles we don’t support weakness so let’s wave them all goodbye in celebration of what is easily Bosnia’s best Eurovision entry:

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42. JOWST ft. Aleksander Wallman - “Grab the moment” Norway 2017

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[2017 Review here]

As a shameless EDM Hound, I have to admit that I am totally smitten by this piece of electronic undergroundness. A wonderful epileptic seizure of pitch black and lavender, executed to perfection by Aleksander Wallman. “Grab the moment” offers show-stopping visual effects, great vocal execution and an additctive beat. THE TRIPLE THREAT OF LIVE MUSIC!

Fortunately, there’s also a great underlying message. I haven’t really talked about the Mental Health Anthem all that much in this ranking, but that’s mostly because I haven’t ranked most of them yet. Any song that inspires people to believe in themselves, that it is okay to be imperfect and that tackles social issues such as procrastination and neurosis HEAD ON and WITH RESPECT, deserves praise.

Which is exactly what JOWST & Aleksander do, specifically by addressing young heterosexual men. 😍 (ie: the demograph that is the least likely to reach out for a support when they need it). They do this very cleverly, by using teenspeak to discuss the ever-relatable theme crippling anxiety and how to lay it aside and get shit done. 🤜🤛 so let us all

KILL k177 K!££

~ThEvOiCeInMyHeAd~

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41. Ruth Lorenzo - “Dancing in the Rain Spain 2014

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THE RAIIIIIN THE RAIIIIN THE RAIIIIIN

Ruth. Yo quiero ser Ruth. Because Ruth is emblematic of Spain’s biggest (only) strength in Eurovision: the LOUD OVERDRAMATIC SCREECHING POWERBALLAD 😍 There are so many precedents to Ruth, from “Él” to “Vuelve Conmigo” to “Bailar pegados” to “Quedate conmigo” but “Dancing in the rain” may be my favourite of the lot. In part because Ruth is a GODDESS and I was *invested* in her success the second she won the NF:

Which she then followed up by forming a backstage bitch coven with Conchita and Suzy. 😍 Excuse me for a moment, I have to lay myself down and blow myself with a fan because that alliance contains so much awesomeness it gives me palpitations.

But I mostly love “Dancing in the rain” because of the performance. It’s a great composition in its own right, providing intense screaminess, well-executed language changes and of course, literal stage rain. 😍 However, Ruth is SO intense in her delivery it becomes a moment of contemplation, of exaltation, and of stupefication as Ruth’s SONIC ENERGY washes over us like a tsunami of sound. DEJA CAER, DEJA LA LLUVIA CAER, THE RAIN THE RAIN THE RAIN

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and since this is the last update for Spain, Bosnia, Moldova and Denmark, I’ll include my overall thoughts below.

DENMARK

The only people who like Denmark in this decade are those with negative taste and no self-respect and those desperately wanting to be Swedes but never will be Swedes (ie: Danes)

MOLDOVA

Not a ‘perfect’ track record, but still an excellent showing for a country with so few resources. Moldova is one of my favourite countries in ESC and this chart should show you why.

BOSNIA - HERZEGOVINA

Bosnia - Herzegovina participated four times in this decade and were epic exactly once. Thank you for that... now I normally would add that I miss them but, nah. Bye.

SPAIN

I am honestly shocked Spain didn’t do worse on my ranking?? I don’t think they’re like.. a ‘TERRIBLE’ esc country the way Ireland and Montenegro are, but jesus fuck out of the cavalcade of incompetent countries that have no idea what the fuck they’re doing, Spain is the giantslewofincompetentcountriesthathavenoideawhatthefuckthey’redoingest. Which is puzzling given that all of their high results come from kickass female-fronted powerballads, ie: the easiest trope to nail. (case in point: Macedonia scored a top 10 with one. Macedonia.) JUST STICK TO THOSE and ditch the wannabe reggaetons.

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fromdirectorlanawachowski · 5 years

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honest and unmerciful endgame thoughts

a sequel to this post

this is deadass one of the worst movies i’ve ever seen.

a few brief thoughts before i get into the more or less play by play.

- making jokes about how time travel in movies isn’t really how time travel works doesn’t work if you’re a fucking movie dude

- fat thor was a fucking disgrace

- professor hulk has to have been 80% ad-libbed because there’s no way someone actually wrote that garbage dialogue

- using a past thanos was a mistake because we don’t actually give a shit about him

OKAY LETS GO

actually fuck it i was gonna do plot point by plot point but i’m just so exhausted i don’t have the strength to do it. i’m gonna go in broad strokes and if you want me to elaborate on WHY something was bad feel free to yell at me in the DMs

okay lets go

right away the whole thing with clint fucking turning on the spot as his family disappears was goofy as all hell. i know exactly what they were going for but having him literally turn on the spot instead of go into the house or go into the shed just draws attention to the absolute hilarity of how fast they vanished compared to others.

why the fuck was tony skin and bones when he got back to earth. i know he was in space for three weeks but they clearly show him eating during the montage of him and nebula doing.... things?

also everyone just kind of trusts nebula? okay? i’d be wary of purple aliens in light of what just happens but inclusivity i guess

also you mean to tell me that in three weeks they scanned the entire universe for gamma radiation? also enough gamma radiation that would show up on a scan from light years away but not fry everyone nearby when thanos snapped?

as soon as they killed thanos i knew the climax of this movie was gonna suck ass.

the writers have no idea how fast human hair grows if five years later natasha still has that godawful blonde dye on her tips

a fucking rat got scott lang out of the quantum realm. i don’t have any commentary for this because this scene speaks for itself. a rat.

moreover how did they even get the van down from the rooftop it was on at the end of ant man 2

fat thor. i don’t have any commentary about this either. the whole thing reeks of the russos looking at taika and going “you wanna be a funny man? you want thor to be fucking funny? you think he’s hilarious? fuck you”

oh i guess i did have commentary on that after all

i’m glossing right over the gay scene because again, taika fought tooth and nail to get bisexual valkyrie and now the russo shitters get to say they had the first canon lgbt character and it’s a couple of throwaway lines that can be redubbed for china. seriously. i don’t think there’s ever a scene where he says “he” or “him” while his lips are on screen.

apparently i am doing this relatively plot point by plot point but i digress

if i was keeping points like cinemasins (ew) i’d take a few off for morgan stark. i’m an bitch but not that much of one.

oh yeah pepper potts’ first of, i believe, four lines in this movie is “yeah i’m reading about compost”. i have no commentary for this either. it speaks for itself.

tony hits upon time travel in a day

i’m so glad we couldn’t get any real character development for anyone but we had time for the four minute “ant man becomes various aged forms of himself and then makes a peeing your pants joke in 2019″ scene.

“that’s how time travel works in movies this is real life” that’s great except that joke falls flat cause you’re a fuckin movie bro

i’m skipping over the entirety of the battle of new york thing because that was just fucking.... *benny hill music*

oh no i’m addressing the ancient one thing. love to have characters retconned into previous movies so they can try and explain the time travel in a way that actually makes it more confusing and also isn’t the way the movie follows

steve leering at peggy through the blinds was creepy, i’m sorry. actually the way he was suddenly obsessed with her this whole movie was really creepy.

howard potts

tony meeting his dad was so awkward and uncomfortable and they really meant for it to be heartwarming but i’m sorry it was fucking hilarious and i was howling with laughter in the theater

likewise thor with frigga. a really nice, emotional moment where thor gets closure with his mom and she overtly says she knows she’s going to die soon but she loves him and she’s so proud of him....

..... and then tops it off with a fat joke. the russos can’t let any kind of emotion hang without making a joke.

when they killed natasha a guy three rows down said “if they were killing her here why the fuck did they greenlight her movie then”

why did thanos get a scene confronting the cost of the stone but clint just wakes up in a puddle? are you gonna tell me thanos cared more about gamora than clint did about natasha? ok.

okay i’ll admit seeing quill dancing on morag without the background music was funny as fuck. rhodey explaining the punchline was not funny as fuck though

three cheers for nebula inexplicably having new abilities

as soon as they brought in past thanos i knew the climax of this movie was gonna suck a big ass

hulk snaps the iron infinity gauntlet because he’s the only one that can withstand the gamma radiation that it allegedly emits and has been mentioned only once before in this movie

the fact that it works is demonstrated by not anyone coming back, but ant man looking out the window at some birds. yeah. gee.

okay i have a question here that may take a little bit to explain.

earlier in the movie it’s explicitly stated they only have enough pym particles for one round trip each. that’s why steve and tony had to go back to 197X to get the tesseract and more particles.

so.

past-nebula takes current-nebula’s place and uses her particles to travel back to the present, leaving current-nebula with no particles

so how did past-thanos bring his ship to the present with no pym particles

anyway past-gamora and current-nebula kill past-nebula to get the iron infinity gauntlet back

the final battle was whatever. i couldn’t for the life of me tell you what happened or where anyone was in relation to anyone else because it was cut so poorly

everyone comes back. remember at the end of my infinity war thoughts when i said the end had no stakes because obviously everyone snapped came back and you all got mad at me? everyone comes back.

the ladies all running the gauntlet would be cool if it wasn’t encompassed by shots of all the men running the gauntlet, drawing attention to the fact there’s literally only like seven ladies and one of them isn’t even a hero

joss whedon was the cinematographer the day they shot wanda fighting thanos, judging from all the gratuitous shots down her shirt. i know elizabeth olsen has nice boobs. believe me, i do. i’m envious. but for the love of christ stop being creepy voyeurs about it

also “you took everything from me” “i don’t even know who you are???” that was a great setup for her to use her mind powers and make thanos experience some suffering but they just didn’t do that so those lines are hilarious

tony gets the stones and snaps, killing thanos and all his army. thanos fades away into dust while a woman vocalizes in the background in a manner that’s less satisfying than when voldemort did the exact same thing in deathly hallows part 2

tony dies because i guess?

at the funeral everyone is there and there’s shots lingering on everyone including this weird kid who looks like he’d microwave a gerbil? i had to google him and it’s supposed to be the kid from iron man 3. i feel like seven years later you should probably put in a line like “thanks for coming <whatever that kid’s name was>

okay we’ve reached the part i have the absolute most beef with.

steve’s ending

from the start of this movie he’s been inexplicably obsessed with peggy. the ending is telegraphed from a mile away and i was still shocked and stunned that they actually did this.

so steve just gives up everything, all his friends and family, to go back in time to be with a woman he knew for max a year, in the heat of war, where emotions run high and they may very well have latched onto each other in case they died.

steve rogers, the man who wielded mjolnir, the man who broke his friend’s mental conditioning just be refusing to fight him, just sits back through the 50s and 60s and 70s and 80s and 90s. the cuban missile crisis, the LA riots, the assassination of JFK, the death of howard and maria stark, the infiltration of shield, the berlin wall, 9/11, the war on terror, and he just.... did nothing?

what the fuck was that

sam is captain america now though so i’m down with that

but i’m still so angry

this is beyond character assassination for steve. it’s... outright brutal murder and mutilation. anywhere i can, i give endgame a half star review FOR THIS ALONE. setting aside fat thor and how they treat Ragnarok, the fact they think steve rogers would, after everything he’s done and learned, go back into the past where there was still a chance he could help his friends in his own way, and do NOTHING, is the most infuriating thing about this barely-polished turd of a movie.

IN CONCLUSION i said infinity war was the worst movie marvel had ever put out and marvel went “haha we can do you one better”

endgame is just three hours of setpiece, gag, setpiece, gag, setpiece, gag, occasionally punctuated with emotional moments that aren’t allowed to hang long enough for the emotion to sink in before a joke is made, usually at thor’s expense.

#avengers #endgame #endgame spoilers #endgame critical #endgame critique #infinity war critical #avengers endgame

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