#and I don't like it when things are not correct

[scoobhead]

weaponry in the locked tomb is so interesting because when you break it down it's like:

guns exist in-universe but are used by the freedom fighter terrorist organization almost exclusively

swords are (were?) commonplace enough that gideon was able to find and train with a decently well-balanced two-hander on the ninth, despite the fact that the ninth has no military force or even interplanetary traffic. gideon's sword is at least 20 years old, probably older

swords are definitely still in use within the empire, at least by cavaliers, but likely within the cohort as a whole. to my memory there are no mentions of cohort members carrying military-issue guns

even though they're trained in a variety of weapons and techniques, cavaliers (are supposed to) carry exclusively rapiers. gideon prefers her two-hander and cam carries twin shortswords, but these seem to be rare and shocking exceptions to the standard.

rapiers are used by cavaliers explicitly for the purpose of lyctorhood. they're light enough that a scrawny necromancer without swordfighting experience can pick it up and rely on their cav's training without needing to build the muscle to wield the sword effectively

because of the secretive nature of the megatheorem, and lyctorhood as a whole, most people just follow the rapier rule because it's tradition. it is what is done. harrow makes this pretty clear at the beginning of gtn

cavaliers can carry a variety of offhand weapons. it seems like the full spectrum of middle age weaponry is possible - but still, no guns. not even secretly, as with cam's dual blades. some cavs choose to carry material for their necromancers as their offhand - ortus carries a bowl of bones for harrow, and i can only assume "the powder" mentioned as harrow's choice for gideon's offhand towards the beginning of gtn is some kind of bone dust

from a doylist perspective, all of this creates a aesthetic that starts very analog and gothic and gradually grows into a more standard sci-fi space opera through the series. by ntn, we've hit most of the established genre weaponry tropes that we've come to expect from older futuristic space media like star wars and alien. blasters and guns are standard fare, and it makes sense to hold off on introducing them until the scope of the story gets broader and more interplanetary

from a watsonian perspective, it's a little more difficult to draw concrete conclusions without the context that atn will inevitably provide. but if i had to hedge a guess, i'd say that, as with most things, It's All John Gaius's Fault. when he resurrected the galaxy i'd assume that he wanted to keep the aesthetics of medieval imperialism, and given his 21st century liberalism probably didn't want guns to be part of the equation. but they were anyways - we know this because wake carries a big one - and instead of standardizing firearms within his military and for his lyctors, he clings to the aesthetics of swordplay. please correct me if i'm remembering it wrong, but to my knowledge every gun shown in the series is either directly linked to boe or implied to be sourced from them. jod dooms his own lyctors and military by refusing to update their weaponry.

all of this poses a lot of questions about atn: who will carry a gun, and why? where did the gun come from? why DON'T the lyctors just use firearms? and most importantly: will they be fighting zombies with swords???

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! I’m working on an original character project that I want to include a lot of casual representation in (“casual” meaning that the characters don’t need a justification for being disabled/fat/POC/etc, they just are because people can and do exist that way in reality!)

I was wondering if you had any suggestions for finding resources for drawing facial differences(and maybe other visible disabilities), especially in a cartoony style. I’ve looked through the Facial Equality Week tag but would like to see more examples, and since my art is so… goofy, for lack of a better word, I would love any help I can get in integrating differences without being offensive or upsetting.

Sorry if this is a bother, and thank you for all that you do!

Hi!

I'm not aware of any guides for drawing facial differences specifically (or at least, good ones. There's 1 billion tutorials telling you that scars are just a Singular Line, always, but that's not... correct), but perhaps someone in the notes could help out?

For my own advice, you could check out this old post I made. Because you mentioned your art being cartoony, I would specifically urge you to not overexaggerate facial differences the way they often are. Prime example would be how a lot of cartoons portray strabismus;

It's just a funny gag to them rather than, IDK, how some of us look like. Not to mention that one of these is also a mockery of intellectually/developmentally disabled people with "Derp" in the name, but that's beside the point here.

It's the whole "the character is crazy/stupid/wild/whatever and that's why they have it" that's the problem with how it's often shown. You can also see it in how characters who don't even normally have it will be shown with it for a scene where they're saying something nonsensical, etc.

Another example that's nowhere near as rampant is the like... split-face thing with various facial differences being used. Mostly vitiligo but sometimes also facial palsy. I'm talking about this weirdly perfectly halved face that looks extremely different on each side, often used to signal that a character is two-faced or that the author doesn't know how vitiligo looks like.

[note: vitiligo also shows up on lighter skin. I wanted to make sure it's visible here for tutorial clarity purposes.]

This one is just weird because it straight up doesn't look like that? I have no idea where it came from, but it should go back there. Facial palsy doesn't make someone look like the antique comedy/tragedy theater mask.

Unless I'm forgetting some other annoying cartoon trope, these would be the big ones that you should stay away from.

Outside of that, it's really on a case by case basis on how a specific FD should be drawn because they're so different! A birthmark can just be a differently colored patch of skin, but a craniofacial difference would require some more changes to be included. Alopecia is well, lack of hair, and can be done very easily but ectrodactyly can be more complicated to show properly because of the limitations of a cartoony artstyle when it comes to hands. And while I do think it would be great to see more of those facial differences that tend to not be included in art at all, there's nothing wrong with deciding to go for the things you can represent more faithfully, especially if you're just starting.

I will say that if you're making an honest attempt at being respectful and trying to get it right, most of us will still be excited to see your work. Even if it's not perfect or has some inaccuracies. I will take a "'yeah more or less' correct with a happy, human character" over a "Very Technically correct but tagged as #tw burns and with blood splattered on them" any day.

Lastly, I wanted to share some art featuring characters with facial differences (and other visible disabilities) that are done in a cartoony, or at least somewhat simplistic artstyles (I'm using both terms very widely here, but like. Not Realism) - maybe it will give you some ideas!

Man with Treacher Collins syndrome (also one of the first pieces online where I saw a character with an FD portrayed in such a lovely way! A fav of mine) Girl with Pfeiffer syndrome Too many characters to count! Woman with burns Woman with a limb difference Multiple characters again Animation featuring people with Down syndrome [youtube] Multiple characters, including a girl with neurofibromatosis, a burn survivor, a girl with a cleft lip and another with TCS! [twitter]

If you have a more specific art question ("how do I draw a person with XYZ facial difference?") you can send me an ask on @saszor! I prefer to stick to the writing theme on this blog but would still like to help if you need it:-)

Hope this helps!

mod Sasza

Edit: apologies for the lack of alt text on one of the images, it has been fixed!

[copperbadge]

TBH it was surprising when you mentioned you have difficulty knowing how others feel about you. You strike me as an incredibly likeable guy with an interesting life and viewpoint, and it seems your readers feel the same :) . If I lived anywhere near I'd love to hang out (or at least exchange cat pictures), but alas. Anyway, I hope you're having a good day and please give the kits a kiss for me!

Ah, thank you! That's a lovely thing to say :)

That's the curse of rejection-sensitive dysphoria though -- you're just never goddamn sure. Your brain wants to read everything other people say and do in a negative light, but you also know that's not correct. So it's one more axis along which you can't trust yourself.

Being unable to trust yourself is actually a really big part of ADHD. Specialists talk a lot about how people with ADHD can't trust their memory, they can't trust knowledge they've worked to acquire will be there when it's needed, they can't trust their reactions in a crisis, they can't trust their perceptions of others. I know, intellectually, that the people in my life don't remember 99% of the dumb shit I pull, but I remember it all in visceral emotional detail, which makes it difficult to believe in my soul that they don't. Do I remember the dumb shit they pull? No. Does that matter? Not to my stupid dinged-up corpus striatum, which is where the ADHD lives.

Even before my diagnosis I was dimly aware of this issue and so I did a lot of work on myself to make sure that I took a healthy attitude towards this, that I didn't try to manipulate people into reassuring me or lash out if I thought they secretly hated me. I remind myself not everyone will like me and that's okay, I remind myself that people who don't want to spend time with you don't proactively seek out your company.

But what that means is that while I for the most part don't suspect people of baselessly hating me, or at least don't act on suspicion when I do, I also just kinda...never know what anyone thinks. All I can really do is continue to assume the positive, and if that starts to fail, communicate openly about it. Which as coping mechanisms go is pretty healthy, like short of a drastic personality rewiring I'm not sure how I could handle it better, but the struggle is pretty real.

All of which is to say that I do appreciate the ask -- and all evidence in this post to the contrary I am having a pretty great day. It's Friday, the house is clean, I got paid today and I'm going on vacation starting Sunday. And I did just spend half an hour cuddling the kitties. :D

[angel-of-the-moons]

Hear me out.

A Ghost In The Gym

(Ghost x Fem!Reader)

It was another day at the gym for you, only, today... There was a man in a rather scary skull mask glaring holes into the mirror across from him as he used the dumbbells...

You paid him no mind, some people wear masks in the gym. Could be allergies or... Something

Your eyes can't seem to focus on anything else around you, because whenever you look in the mirror, you see he's staring at you

It immediately concerns you, and you try to shove your discomfort aside.

You put in your headphones and try to tune the world out and focus on your routine.

You were ten minutes into your slow climb to a trot on the treadmill when you looked up and he was suddenly right there

You almost trip as you hit the stop button on the mill, and look up at him because he's leaning very close all of a sudden. Your voice is very sheepish and concerned.

"Can I.... Can I help you?"

"I didn't mean to startle you. There's two men staring at you, they followed you in here. They're talking about trying to convince you to come home." His rich voice grumbles softly.

You swallow and casually glance around the gym, spotting the men in question, who suddenly acted like they were busy. You were so concerned with the big scary man in the mask you didn't notice the two guys dressed in street clothes. They looked familiar...

"I told them to fuck off." He says, standing up straight. "Hope you don't mind, but I told them that you were my girlfriend, that you were meeting me here."

"Oh... Um.... Thank you."

He tilts his head, his chocolate eyes softening as he notices you're still on-edge; and honestly? Who could blame you in the situation?

He takes a step back. "My name's Simon. If you like, I can spot for you while you work out and keep them off of you."

Your body relaxes a little bit, comforted by the man's respect of your personal space.

"Y... Yeah. Thanks." You babble, awkwardly fiddling with your water bottle as you take a sip. "You're uh... A big guy, ain'tcha?"

"I'm military. Pays to be big." He replies, tilting his head.

"Oh! Oh... Yeah, I can see why." You laugh awkwardly.

Simon's eyes crinkle at the corners; a smile beneath his mask. You're not sure why, but that twinkle in his eyes makes your cheeks heat up.

"So, what's next on your workout routine?"

"Uh... Well, I use the medicine ball and do some curls... some squats."

"Alright then, luv. Let's get to that. Let me know if I get too close or make you uncomfortable."

He was... Surprisingly respectful. Most guys at the gym who got so close to you were creeps who couldn't keep their distances from you.

Ugh, and don't even get started on the mouth-breathing many of them did... Or the shameless staring at your tits.

But this Simon, your... uh, Gymbro Avenger as it were, was rather kind. He kept track of your sets even when your frazzled mind lost track; even while he did his own. But then again, the man probably worked out so often that it was muscle memory for him to do it without needing to count.

You two got to talking while you exercised; he was some sort of high-class soldier, couldn't tell you more because of how "classified" it all was.

He told you about his unit; his friends. His family, basically. The "Old Man" Price, his annoying "battle buddy" (a US military term that someone named Alex told him) "Soap", Gaz, who apparently always had a "kicked puppy" face...

It made you laugh, some of the stuff he told you.

Talking with you... it made him feel... human. Almost normal.

When was the last time he felt like that?

Too long, it felt.

You had gotten comfortable to the point that you hardly noticed when he'd put a hand on you to correct your form.

You ignored your heartrate spikes when he did, of course. You also had to remind yourself to stop ogling his thick arms or how his veins bulged or how intricate his tattoo was...

The two of you explored the gym and did things you didn't normally do. He helped you use the Olympic bench, the rowing machine...

He stood outside the showers (a respectful distance away, mind you) to make sure those guys didn't creep on you on the way out.

You didn't notice when your stalkers gave up and left, seemingly irritated that Simon "was" your "boyfriend" and wasn't going to leave you alone.

You bought him a smoothie as a thank you.

He'd gotten a phone call halfway through and seemed saddened that he couldn't stay with you, but said his Captain called and he had to go.

You almost protest when he hands you some money to pay for the smoothie, but as you look up he was already leaving, his bag over his shoulder as he mounted his motorcycle.

You open the small wad of bills and realized that he left a scribbled note in it. A phone number.

"Call me when you need to go to the gym or don't feel safe, birdie. I'll be your scary dog privileges."

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Bloodlust | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, implied sexism/objectification

Word Count: 5023

Series Rewrite Masterlist

Dean was in the best mood you’d seen him in in a long time. He was grooving to his music as the Impala cruised along the highway; having finally fixed his baby. “Whoo! Listen to her purr! Have you ever heard anything so sweet?”

You rolled your eyes. “You know, if you two wanna get a room, just let me know, Dean.”

“Oh, don't listen to her, baby. She doesn't understand us.”

Sam laughed. “You're in a good mood.”

“Why shouldn't I be?” Dean questioned.

“No reason.”

“Got my car, got a case; things are looking up.”

You hummed. “Wow. Give you a couple severed heads and a pile of dead cows, and you’re little miss sunshine.”

He laughed. “How far to Red Lodge?”

Sam responded, “Uh, about another three hundred miles.”

“Good,” Dean smirked, flooring it.

***

The sheriff you and the brothers talked to obviously thought the three of you were insane when you questioned him about the decapitations and cow mutilations. He ordered you to get out of his office, to which you agreed.

Needing another plan, you and the brothers headed to the hospital in your respective suits and dress. You didn’t miss the way Dean’s eyes raked over your body as you made your way into the morgue.

“Decorum, please,” you teased, swishing your hips as you walked ahead of him.

Dean walked closely behind you and read the nametag of the unsuspecting intern sitting behind the desk. “John.”

“Jeff,” he corrected.

“Jeff. I know that,” Dean chuckled. “Dr. Dworkin needs to see you in his office right away.”

“But Dr. Dworkin's on vacation.”

“Well, he's back. And he's pissed, and he's screaming for you, man, so if I were you I would—” he clicked his tongue and jutted his thumb behind him.

The intern looked terrified and ran away.

“Hey, those satanists in Florida, they marked their victims, didn't they?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah, reversed pentacle on the forehead,” Sam responded.

“Yeah. So much fucked up crap happens in Florida.” He handed you and Sam pairs of latex gloves and tugged on a pair of his own. 

You pulled out a metal bed with a woman’s corpse laying on it and a box between her legs. 

“Alright, open it,” Dean told Sam.

“You open it,” Sam protested.

“You guys are pussies.” You grabbed the box and took the lid off, unfazed by the sight before you.

Dean cringed at the sight of the head, saying, “Well, no pentagram.”

“Wow. Poor girl,” Sam said.

“Maybe we should, uh, you know, look in her mouth, see if those wackos stuffed anything down her throat. Y'know, kinda like the moth in Silence of the Lambs.”

“Yeah, here, go ahead,” you smirked, spinning the box toward him.

“No, you go ahead,” he rebutted.

“What?”

“ ‘Put the lotion in the basket.’ “ 

You rolled your eyes. “Fine.” You pried her mouth open and looked down her throat. 

“Dean, get me a bucket?” Sam grimaced. “I'm going to puke.”

You felt around her mouth a bit more and found strange grooves above her gumline. You pulled her lip up and pressed just above one of the holes, and a fang descended. “Oh, this fucking bitch.”

“She’s already dead, (Y/N), relax,” Dean told you.

“Well, this changes things,” noted Sam.

“Ya think?” you and Dean asked in unison.

***

You and the brothers decided to go for a few drinks after the discoveries you’d made and pick up the next morning. You immediately felt a man’s eyes on you and uncomfortably shifted in your seat. “You pickin’ up what I am?” you discreetly whispered to Dean.

“Yeah, definitely,” he responded lowly, sitting on a barstool. “How's it going?”

The bartender answered, “Living the dream. What can I get for you?”

“Three beers, please.”

Sam began, “So, we're looking for some people.”

“Sure. Hard to be lonely,” the bartender smirked. 

“Yeah. But, um, that's not what I meant.” Sam pulled a fifty dollar bill from his pocket and dropped it in front of the bartender, who took it hesitantly. “Right. So these, these people, they would have moved here about six months ago, probably pretty rowdy, like to drink—”

“Yeah, real night owls, you know? Sleep all day, party all night,” Dean chimed in.

“Barker farm got leased out a couple months ago. Real winners. They've been in here a lot— drinkers. Noisy. I've had to 86 them once or twice.”

You and Dean thanked the bartender for his help and continued to nurse your beers. After a few minutes, you and the brothers continued to feel the man’s eyes on you. On high alert, all three of you moved for the door and noticed all that was left of the man was a smoldering cigarette in an ashtray.

You and the brothers walked out of the bar and past the Impala to lead the man who’d been stalking you away. You rounded a corner and jumped out of the way so the brothers could pin the man who’d followed you to the wall. Dean held a knife to the man’s throat and commanded, “Smile.”

“What?” the man asked.

“Show us those pearly whites.”

“Oh, for the love of— you want to stick that thing someplace else? I'm not a vampire," he replied nonchalantly.

You frowned.

“Yeah, that's right. I heard you guys in there.” Even his voice was unsettling.

“What do you know about vampires?” you asked.

“How to kill them. Now seriously, bro. That knife's making me itch.”

Dean cocked his head and the man started to pull away. Sam pinned him down harder. 

“Whoa. Easy there, Chachi,” the man said. He slowly brought his hand up to his lips and revealed normal gums. “See? Fangless. Happy?”

Dean let him up. “Now. Who the hell are you?”

"Gordon. Gordon Walker," he replied. "You?"

"I'm Dean. This is Sam; that's (Y/N)."

The man led you over to his car and pulled out an arsenal rack from behind his backseat. “Sam and Dean Winchester. I can't believe it. You know I met your old man once? Hell of a guy. Great hunter. I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes. But from what I hear you guys fill 'em. Great trackers, good in a tight spot—”

Dean was on-guard. “You seem to know a lot about our family.”

“Word travels fast. You know how hunters talk,” the man explained.

“No, I don’t, actually,” you chimed in.

“You're a firecracker, aren't cha?” he asked. His somehow hauntingly melodic voice had you on edge.

You refused to respond.

“So, um, so those two vampires, they were yours, huh?” Sam jumped in.

“Yep. Been here two weeks.”

“Did you check out that Barker farm?” Dean questioned.

“It's a bust. Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though, they could kill you with that patchouli smell alone.” You almost laughed at Gordon’s comment. 

“Where's the nest, then?” Dean asked.

“I got this one covered. Look, don't get me wrong. It's a real pleasure meetin' you fellas. But I've been on this thing over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin; tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it.”

“We could help,” Dean suggested.

“Thanks, but uh, I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy.”

Dean groaned, “Come on, man, I"ve been itching for a hunt.”

“Sorry. But hey, I hear there's a Chupacabra two states over. You go ahead and knock yourselves out.” He got down into his car and leaned out of the window. “It was real good meeting you, though. I'll buy you a drink on the flip side.” He drove off.

“He seems like a world-class douche,” you commented as you watched his retreating red car.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Sam snorted. 

“C’mon.” Dean started off to his car.

“Where we goin’?” 

“To find ourselves a fang.”

***

Dean followed Gordon’s distinctive red car to a warehouse where you deduced he’d tracked a vampire to. 

You rushed up the labyrinth of ladders toward the sounds of a running mill saw and the two men struggling. When you arrived at the scene, you saw Gordon on the verge of getting his head taken off by the vampire and the saw. You and Sam each grabbed a boot and pulled Gordon away from the vampire’s impressive strength. Dean attacked the vampire and replaced Gordon with him, lowering the saw to the vampire’s throat. You watched in concern as blood sprayed across Dean’s face, and he seemed completely unreactive. 

“So, uh, I guess I gotta buy you that drink,” Gordon chuckled awkwardly. 

***

You agreed to meet Gordon back at the bar you’d met him at after you cleaned Dean up. Sam went into the bar with Gordon to get a round of drinks started. You took hydrogen peroxide out of the first aid kit in the car and began to wipe Dean’s face off with it.

“I can do this myself, y’know,” he mumbled.

“I do.” You let a silence settle between you before you spoke again. “What happened to you back there?”

“What do you mean?”

“Dean, you got fucking scary back there. I’ve never seen you like that,” you explained.

“I was just excited to get back to huntin’, (Y/N).”

“No, dude, I know you. You’re lethal but never… cold. You’re worrying me,” you admitted.

“Well, don’t, okay? I’m fine,” he said, lightly pushing you off him and taking the towel from you. He finished wiping himself off and began to walk inside. You were hurt but refused to let that show and followed him into the bar. 

***

Rounds deep of Gordon and Dean swapping stories, you and Sam were exhausted of the talk of blood, guts, and gore. Gordon soon circled back to Dean’s kill of the evening. “Dean,” he laughed. “You gave that big-ass fang one hell of a haircut, my friend.”

“Thank you,” Dean grinned.

“That was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Was it, though?” you questioned, ignoring the way Dean’s gaze burned into the side of your head and keeping your eyes locked on Gordon.

“You all right, sweetheart?” Dean asked you.

“Fine,” you responded.

“Well, lighten up a little, sweetheart,” Gordon jested.

“He's the only one who gets to call me that,” you immediately stated firmly.

He held his hands up in surrender. “Okay. No offense meant. Just celebrating a little. Job well done.”

“Right. Well, decapitations aren't my idea of a good time, I guess,” Sam chimed in.

“Oh, come one, man, it's not like it was human. You've gotta have a little more fun with your job,” Gordon said simply. 

"That's what it is, though," you broke in. "A job. I enjoy it, but bloodshed doesn't exactly get my rocks off." You kept your eyes locked on Gordon, who stared back.

Sam sighed and stood up. "Look, I'm not gonna bring you guys down. I'm just gonna go back to the motel. C’mon, (Y/N).”

“You sure?” Dean asked the two of you as you stood.

The two of you nodded wordlessly.

“Remind me to beat that buzzkill out of you two later, alright?” Dean joked, throwing Sam the keys.

You walked out angrily and didn’t say a word to Sam on the way back to the motel.

***

“I don’t like that guy,” you muttered to Sam as you paced around his and Dean’s motel room. “I really don’t like vampires, but I really don’t like that guy.”

“Yeah, me neither. I’m gonna call Ellen; see what she thinks.”

“Good idea.”

Sam raised the phone to his ear. “Hey, Ellen, uh, Sam Winchester… Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine. Got a question. You ever run across a guy named Gordon Walker?... And?... Well, we ran into him on a job and we're kinda working with him, I guess…” His face suddenly changed. “I— I thought you said he was a good hunter.” 

You watched curiously as he listened to another thing she had to say before bidding the woman goodbye. “I’m guessing she told you he was bad news,” you said once he’d hung up.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Great.”

“Sam, I hate vamps more than probably anybody. But Dean was just… so… not Dean when he took the head off that one,” you said.

“I know. It’s buggin’ me, too,” he sighed. “I’m gonna go get a drink. You want one?”

“Just a water, please,” you replied.

Minutes went by, and Sam still hadn’t returned from the vending machine. You were beginning to get a little worried, but decided that maybe he just needed a second to himself. When ten minutes turned into fifteen, though, you really started to panic. You darted outside and looked over to the vending machine. Sam was nowhere to be found. You called Dean in a panic, saying, “Dean, Sam’s gone. I can’t find him anywhere.”

“What?! What the hell happened?!”

“I don’t know!” You ran a hand through your hair. “He just went to get a drink, and now he’s gone!”

“Well, maybe he just went for a walk,” Dean tried.

“No, Dean, he would’ve told me. What the hell is with you? Normally, you’d be flipping out by now.”

“Watch it, (Y/N). Hang tight. We’re on our way.” He hung up the phone.

‘We. Gordon. Fucking fantastic.’

***

When Dean and Gordon returned to the boys’ motel room, you clung to the back wall, feeling very uncomfortable around Gordon and Dean’s new attitude.

Gordon was discussing strategies on how to get Sam back with Dean— supposing the vampires you were hunting was behind this— when the man in question strolled through the door.

“Sam?!” you asked, pushing off the wall and running to him. You hugged him tightly around his neck. “Where the hell did you go?”

“Can I talk to you two alone?” he asked you and his brother.

“You mind chillin' out for a couple minutes?” Dean asked Gordon, who shook his head. You and the brothers exited the room and stood in the parking lot. 

“Guys, maybe we've got to rethink this hunt.”

“What makes you say that, Sammy?” you asked. 

“Where were you?” Dean questioned.

“In the nest.”

“What? You found it?” Dean questioned. Yours and his eyebrows shot up.

“They found me, man.”

“How'd you get out? How many'd you kill?” the older brother asked.

“None.”

“Well, Sam, they didn't just let you go.”

“That's exactly what they did.”

“No fucking way,” you said. “I know vamps, they wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, how do you explain the fact that I’m not dead, (Y/N)?”

You shrugged. “Good point. But what the hell, man?”

“Where is it?” Dean asked.

“I was blindfolded. I don't know.”

“Well, you've got to know something,” the older brother pressed.

Sam huffed. “We went over that bridge outside of town, but guys, listen. Maybe we shouldn't go after them.”

“Why not?” you and Dean asked.

“I don't think they're like other vampires. I don't think they're killing people.”

Dean laughed humorlessly. “You're joking. Then how do they stay alive? Or undead, or whatever the hell they are.”

“The cattle mutilations. They said they live off of animal blood.”

“And you believed them?”

“Look at me, Dean. They let me go without a scratch.” Sam held his arms out to either side of himself, encouraging you and Dean to examine him.

“Wait, so you're saying—” Dean cut himself off. “No, man, no way. I don't know why they let you go. I don't really care. We find 'em, we waste 'em.”

“Why?” Sam huffed.

“What part of 'vampires' don't you understand, Sam? If it's supernatural, we kill it, end of story. That's our job.”

“No, Dean, that is not our job. Our job is hunting evil. And if these things aren't killing people, they're not evil!” the brunet argued.

“Of course they're killing people, that's what they do. They're all the same, Sam. They're not human, okay? We have to exterminate every last one of them.”

“Dean, I’m with Sam on this one,” you finally said.

“Really, (Y/N)? You?” he looked at you stunned.

“Yeah, dude. I trust Sam. I hate vampires more than the next person. But I just don’t feel good about this hunt all around. I say we leave these vampires and Gordon in our dust,” you responded.

“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” Dean scoffed. “Gordon?”

“Why are you so defensive of him?” you questioned, voicing rising slightly.

“Because he’s been going after these things for a year, (Y/N), I think he knows,” he said.

“Sam called Ellen. She says he’s bad news.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

Dean looked at his brother. “You called Ellen?”

Sam nodded.

“And I'm supposed to listen to her? We barely know her, (Y/N). No thanks, I'll go with Gordon.”

“Right. ‘Cause Gordon’s such an old friend,” you scowled. “You think I can’t see what this is?”

“What are you talking about?” Dean grunted.

“He's a substitute for your dad, isn't he? A poor one.”

“Shut up, (Y/N).”

“Hey! Don’t talk to me like that.” You stepped closer to Dean, face set angrily.

Dean wasn’t backing off. “Then don’t talk to me like that.”

The two of you were in each other’s faces, angrily staring each other down.

“You know what? I'm not even going to talk about this,” Dean grumbled, turning away from you.

“I know exactly what you’re doing, Dean. I can see right through you. I know how you feel. I lost my dad, too. But nobody can replace him. That hole you’re feeling hurts; I know. But this isn’t what’s gonna fix it.”

He snorted humorlessly. “Okay.” He walked away from you and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He turned to his brother. “I'm going to that nest. You don't want to tell me where it is, fine. I'll find it myself.”

You followed him back into his motel room. “We are not done with this conversation.” 

Dean went to respond to you but noticed Gordon was gone before he could. 

“You think he went after them?” Sam asked.

“Probably,” you said. “Dean, we have to stop him.”

“Really, (Y/N)? Because I say we lend a hand.”

Sam chimed in, “Just give me the benefit of the doubt, would you? You owe me that.”

“Yeah, we'll see. I'll drive. Give me the keys.”

Sam gestured to the table where he’d set the keys earlier, but they were gone. “He snaked the keys.”

“Fucking awesome,” you grumbled, eyeing Dean angrily for his trust in Gordon.

Dean then had to hotwire his own car, cursing under his breath about how he’d “just fixed her.” “So the bridge, is that, uh, is that all you got?” Dean asked his brother as the three of you began to speed off.

“The bridge was four and a half minutes from their farm,” Sam explained.

“How do you know?” you asked.

“I counted.” 

You smiled. This was another one of those moments where he reminded you a lot of Steven; he would've done the same thing.

The younger brother continued, “They took a left out of the farm, then turned right onto a dirt road, followed that for two minutes slightly up a hill, then took another quick right, and we hit the bridge.”

***

A while later, you and the brothers arrived at the farmhouse the vampires had been holing up in. You found Gordon circling a tied-up vampiress covered in scratches and her own blood. 

“Guys. Come on in,” Gordon grinned at you.

“You’re fucking sick,” you growled, eyeing him dangerously.

“You wanna get a handle on your girlfriend there, pal?” Gordon said to Dean.

Dean ignored his comment. “What's going on?”

“Just poisoning Lenore here with some dead man's blood. She's going to tell us where all her little friends are, aren't you? Wanna help?”

Dean sighed. “Look, man—”

“Grab a knife. I was just about to start in on the fingers.” Gordon dragged his knife across her arm, cutting her deeply.

“Stop it!” you ordered.

“Hey, let's all just chill out, huh?” Dean said simultaneously.

“I’m completely chill,” Gordon responded coolly.

“Gordon, put the knife down,” Sam quietly pleaded. He went to step toward Gordon, but Dean held him back.

“Sounds like it's Sam here needs to chill,” Gordon scoffed.

“Just step away from her, alright?” you tried.

“You're right. I'm wasting my time here. This bitch will never talk. Might as well put her out of her misery.” Gordon pulled out a larger knife. “I just sharpened it, so it's completely humane.”

You stepped to block Gordon from reaching the vampire. “Gordon, I'm letting her go.”

Gordon pointed the knife at your chest, stopping you. “You're not doing a damn thing.”

“Hey, hey, hey, Gordon, let's talk about this,” Dean broke in, concern rising in his voice.

“What's there to talk about? It's like I said, Dean. No shades of gray.”

“Yeah. I hear ya. And I know how you feel.”

“Do you?” He turned to Dean, but kept the knife trained on your chest.

“That vampire that killed your sister deserved to die, but this one—”

Gordon laughed. “Killed my sister? That filthy fang didn't kill my sister. It turned her. It made her one of them. So I hunted her down, and I killed her myself.”

Dean’s awkward smile wavered. “You did what?”

“It wasn't my sister anymore; it wasn't human. I didn't blink. And neither would you.”

“Gordon, I had to do the same thing to my parents,” you said. “But my parents were trying to eat me. I think that’s a bit of a different circumstance than these guys who are just eating a few cows.”

“Then you should understand why I have to do this.” He pushed the tip of his knife into your chest, trying to get you to back up. You hissed in pain.

Dean immediately drew his gun and pointed it at Gordon. “Cut it out.”

“So you knew all along, then?” Sam continued provoking the hunter. “You knew about the vampires, you knew they weren't killing anyone. You knew about the cattle. And you just didn't care.”

Gordon chuckled. “Care about what? A nest of vampires suddenly acting nice? Taking a little time out from sucking innocent people? And we're supposed to buy that? Trust me. Doesn't change what they are. And I can prove it.” With no warning, he grabbed your arm and sliced it open. You yelped as he held your arm out with one hand and held the knife to your throat with the other. He shoved you toward the vampire tied up in her chair.

Dean cocked the gun and demanded, “Let her go. Now!”

“Relax. If I wanted to kill her, she'd already be on the floor. Just making a little point.”

“Oh, you motherfucker—” he held your arm over the vampire while you struggled, causing blood to drip on her face. She hissed, and her fangs extended. 

“Let me go!”

“You think she's so different? Still want to save her? Look at her. They're all the same. Evil, bloodthirsty.”

The vampire controlled herself, though, retracting her fangs and turning her face away. You softened at the sight as Dean continued to try and intimidate Gordon.

“You hear her, Gordon?” Sam said. 

The vampire was stringing together a chant of “No” over and over again, trying to control herself.

You kicked Gordon between the legs and worked your way out of his grasp when the knife moved away from your neck. “We're done here.”

“Sam, get her out of here,” Dean told his brother. 

He did as told, and when Gordon tried to step toward him, Dean caught his attention with the gun. “Uh-uh. Uh-uh! Gordon, I think you and I've got some things to talk about.”

“Get out of my way,” Gordon told you and Dean, who both had guns trained on him.

“Sorry,” Dean murmured.

“You're not serious,” the man scoffed.

“I'm having a hard time believing it too, but I know what I saw. If you want those vampires, you gotta go through me.”

Gordon nodded, considering. He looked down at his knife and jammed it into the table. “Fine.”

Dean looked at the knife and then his gun. He pulled the clip out of his Taurus and set it aside.

“Dean, what are you doing?” you asked.

“Trust me on this one.”

You kept your gun trained on Gordon as he lunged at Dean. You couldn’t get a clear shot as the two of them rumbled around. You couldn’t lie, they were pretty evenly matched in hand-to-hand combat. Gordon grabbed his knife again and held it to Dean’s throat. “What are you doing, man? You doing this for a fang? Come on, Dean, we're on the same side here.”

“I don't think so, you sadistic bastard.”

Gordon threw Dean across the room.

“Hey!” you said, cocking your gun. “Back off!”

“Stay out of this, sweetie,” Gordon told you before turning back to Dean. “You're not like your brother. You're a killer. Like me.”

Dean kicked Gordon down and hauled him up against the wall before elbowing him between the eyes. He pinned him under his elbow and slammed his head into another wall. “Oh, sorry.”

You chuckled despite the situation as you and Dean began to tie Gordon up.

“You know, I might be like you, and I might not. But you're the one tied up right now,” Dean monotoned down at Gordon. He turned to you when he seemed to come back to reality. “Are you okay?” He put his hands on either side of your face and tucked your hair behind your ear. 

You nodded. “Fine.”

He grabbed your arm gently and looked over the cut Gordon had given you. Dean sucked in a breath through his teeth. “I’m gonna take care of that.”

“Dean, you don’t have to—”

“Yeah, I do.” He took a deep breath. “You were right.”

You gave him a lopsided smile. “I know.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to have a moment with you here,” he smirked.

You just smiled and looked down to the floor. “I know. Thank you.”

Sam came back into the room. “Did I miss anything?” he asked, noting Gordon tied up.

Dean shook his head. “Nah, not much. She get out okay?”

“Yeah. All of 'em did.”

Gordon groaned as he came back to. 

“Then I guess our work here is done. How you doin', Gordy? Gotta tinkle yet?” Dean snarked, making you giggle.

Gordon just glared at him.

“Alright. Well, get comfy. We'll call someone in two or three days; have them come out, untie you.” He jammed Gordon’s knife into the table behind him.

“Ready to go, Dean?” Sam asked.

“Not yet. I guess this is goodbye. Well, it's been real.” He hit Gordon straight across the jaw, knocking him to the floor. “Okay. I'm good now. We can go.”

As you exited the farmhouse, you grabbed at your arm that suddenly began to sting. 

“I wish we never took this job. It's jacked everything up,” Dean lamented.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Think about all the hunts we went on, Sammy, our whole lives. What if we killed things that didn't deserve killing? You know? I mean, the way Dad raised us—” Dean trailed off and shook his head.

The younger brother’s expression softened. “Dean, after what happened to Mom, Dad did the best he could.”

“I know he did. But the man wasn't perfect. And the way he raised us, to hate those things; and man, I hate 'em. I do. When I killed that vampire at the mill, I didn't even think about it; hell, I even enjoyed it.”

“You didn’t kill that girl, though,” you pointed out.

“No, but every instinct told me to. I was gonna kill her. I was gonna kill 'em all.”

“Yeah, Dean, but you didn't. And that's what matters,” Sam reminded him softly.

“Yeah. Well, 'cause you two are a pain in my ass,” Dean grunted.

“Guess we might have to stick around to be a pain in the ass, then,” the brunet smirked.

“Thanks,” Dean said honestly.

“Don’t mention it.”

***

You returned to the motel to quickly shower off and gather your things. Dean followed you to your room and looked down at your arm. “Gimme that,” he said.

“What? My arm?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“This is our thing now, I guess, huh?” you asked as he pulled a chair up to where you sat on your bed, using your first aid kid to clean your wounds.

“Oh, god, don’t try and make this cute,” he groaned.

“Well, it is!” you protested. “I like how much you care.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, and you began to work on Dean’s wounds he’d sustained from Gordon.

“(Y/N), I—” he began, “I was a complete asshole back there. I just… it’s what I told Sam, I mean, this changes everything for me.”

“I get it,” you nodded. “Me, too. You know I fucking hate vampires, and I wanted to smoke every last one of them. But I don’t know. I’m starting to see the humanity in ‘em, I guess.”

“‘S funny. Humanity in monsters.”

“I know,” you giggled. “Sounds stupid saying it out loud. But think about it. That chick reacted the way any regular person does with severe addiction. Just makes you think, y’know? Maybe they’re more like us than we ever thought.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Don’t get all philosophical on me; I can’t keep up when you do.”

“Yeah, but you love it, though,” you teased.

“I do, actually,” he said, much to your surprise. “You’re so smart, it scares me sometimes.”

“Whoa, look at you and your compliments,” you joked, grinning.

“What?" he chuckled.

“Normally I'm the touchy-feely one,” you answered, giggling. “But thank you. It means a lot coming from you.” You finished wrapping a bandage around his knuckles. “There.”

He flexed them painfully in your upturned palm before playing with your hand in his. You looked up at him, breath hitching in your throat. “Dee, if you’re not ready—”

“(Y/N),” he said, leaning in to you. You surged forward and connected his lips with yours.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Vesuvia Weekly Drabbles: Don't Wake MC!

Were you asleep until five minutes ago? Yes. The shop's backroom is remarkably comfortable for a post-lunch nap, especially when you know the afternoon and evening will be bustling with Friday shoppers later.

Are you awake now? Also yes. The Devorak sibling's hushed arguing is not as quiet as they seem to think it is, Lucio walks with the subtlety of an elephant, Asra's magic use is recognizable anywhere, Nadia's perfume fills every space she inhabits, and Muriel's social discomfort is palpable no matter how tightly your eyes are shut. Are you going to let them know that you're not as asleep as you look? Absolutely not. This is way too much fun.

"Pasha, you can't reach that, let me - ooohhfff -"

"Call me short one more time and I'll take your kneecaps, Ilya."

"Hey! Who took my medal?!"

"Silence, Lucio, it's a miracle they're still asleep. Muriel, would you happen to know where my ex-husband may have misplaced his precious decoration?"

"Asra has it."

"GIVE IT BACK!"

"Shut up, Lucio, it looks better on Faust. I'm doing a service to humanity."

You still don't know what exactly it is they're trying to do, but attempting to figure it out is more fun than you'd like to admit. Perhaps being a detective really was your calling.

There's a little more chaos for another ten minutes or so before things start to quiet down. You hear Lucio's heels click in and out of the back room where you're "dozing" several times and a couple impatient huffs, before Julian's boots come striding in.

"Jules! You're here, help me figure out how to wake them up."

"I - er - I don't know, they look like they're sleeping so peacefully. It'd be a shame to disturb them."

"I would hate to interrupt their slumber as well, but if Asra's prediction is correct, they'll need to be available to tend to their shop in less than two hours." You catch another whiff of Nadia's perfume as her silks rustle closer and hear a wistful sigh above your head. "They look so peaceful."

"Like Sleeping Beauty," Portia gasps, "ooh, do you think they'd like a wake-up kiss?"

"I VOLUNTEER -"

"Shut up, Lucio." Is Asra ... perched on the back of the bench you're snoozing on? "How do you know they won't wake up scared when they mistake you for a goat, anyways?"

"I DO NOT LOOK LIKE A -"

"... it's rude to kiss people when they're unconscious."

"Muriel is entirely correct, though that doesn't solve our time issue. We still have only one hundred and seventeen minutes remaining before the shop must reopen if our plans don't disrupt their schedule, and they must awaken if we are to use them."

"... they're already awake." You hear Muriel shift uncomfortably from side to side. "They've been pretending the whole time."

"They have?? Asra, did you know this too?!"

The magician ignores Julian's surprised squawk with a quiet laugh. "Open your eyes, MC, I know you can hear us."

You still don't know what they've been planning, but the six faces smiling down at you when you look up is worth losing the rest of your afternoon for.

[nyuoqi]

            — SO I MARRIED MY ANTI-FAN     ౨ৎ     SES

OO3.    congratulations on your marriage!

✸ SYNOPSIS !  : congratulations! you have been invited to korea's #1 romance reality show 'We Got Married' where you will be living with your co-star like a married couple. but what will you do when you find out that your husband is actually your anti-fan?

595 word count, not proofread

Warm lightings, cozy sofas and a welcoming aura.

Those are the three things you first realise when you arrive at the restaurant where you will be meeting Riize at— along with the heartwarming staffs who never fail to serve the customers without a huge smile.

The restaurant's address is exactly the same as the one given by your manager further confirming you that this is the correct restaurant.

However for some reason, none of these are able to move your feet as you remain hidden in your van. You don't know why but for some reason your hands are sweating ferociously as your body jitters.

"You can't just remain yourself hidden in the van for the rest of the day, Yn. " Your manager calls you out as she fixes her rear mirror to get a clear view of your face. "Riize's manager has texted me saying that all the members have arrived including the directing team. "

You nod silently as you bring your finger to your lips and start nibbling on them, a bad habit you develop when you are a child every time you become nervous. This doesn't go unnoticed by your manager who told you to stop biting your freshly manicured nails.

"Are you not gonna go out? " She asks while unbuckling her belt. "If this will make you feel any better, Eunseok is not gonna be here today since this is only a meeting between you and the whole group aside from your husband.

You know all about this but it doesn't make you feel less nervous. In fact, it makes you feel worse.

What if I trip on my scarf and ended up falling face first in front of them? What if my voice cracks in the middle of talking and they all starts laughing at me? What if I talk to them without realising that there is a lipstick stain on my lips—

You don't have enough time to overthink the situation further because your manager exits the car before making her way to the door beside you, opening it without hesitation. "Come on princess, we both know that all of us don't have all day to wait for you to get out of the car. Get out. "

"By the way, congratulations on your marriage. "

"Congratulations on your marriage! " is not what you expect to hear when you arrive at the table after getting practically dragged by your manager.

You spot an awkward smile and thank all of them for the wishes. "Than you for the wishes, I'm not sure if I would make a good wife, though. " You partially joke as an icebreaker.

It has come to your attention that all cameras are rolling as you frantically search for your camera, ears falling deaf at whatever Shotaro (if you're not mistaken) is saying at this point.

"I'm sorry but are you even listening to me? " He asks and you laugh awkwardly, your left hand rubbing at the skin behind your neck, "I'm sorry I was just looking for my camera since I couldn't find it. Do you mind repeating what you were saying? "

The staffs laugh at how cute you look like apologising for not paying attention making the members laugh along too.

Maybe I was right about overthinking.

"Oh I was just congratulating you again on your marriage! Don't worry about it. " He smiles, his eyes turning into two crescents.

Your head is starting to get dizzy with the amount of people congratulating you on your marriage. You might as well just actually get married at this point.

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[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 19

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

Falling For You (Literally) by peanutbutterapple

Will Solace was positively sure of two things. 1. He was unwaveringly devoted to his boyfriend of nearly a year, Nico di Angelo. 2. Of all the demigods at Camp Half-Blood, the Aphrodite kids were not to be toyed with.

love how theyre still working on their relationship in this one!! like they are clearly into each other and they know that but that is not Enough to sustain a relationship. cool commentary that relationships take work AND the work doesnt have to be hard/bad, there just needs to be effort. loved that.

2. I got a boy back home who's unlike any other by sunburst_city

“Ew,” Will says when he pulls away, licking his lips and grimacing at what Nico assumes is a mixture of stale sweat, dirt, and other things Nico would rather not think about. “You taste nasty.” “Excuse you. You try chasing down a rogue hellhound across a fucking bayou.”

this one was so cute!! it's a small thing but i love the dynamic where nico is such an Explorer you know. because it's very uniquely solangelo in terms of pjoverse!! they don't both want the same things. will is more of a homemaker and always has been. he's not a fighter and he doesn't want to be. he holds down the fort at home, he makes sure everyone is okay, he keeps people in line. whereas nico is right in the throes of the battle, in the middle of everything. they went on an adventure together and it was really hard for both of them. i like reading stuff where they have their own thing and they're very proud of each other for it.

3. fall asleep until it's only you and me by by sunburst_city

There is something frighteningly tangible about all her dreams involving Percy Jackson. 6 instances Annabeth dreams of Percy.

WHAT IF ANNABETH HAD GOOD THINGS HAPPEN TO HER HUH. WHAT THEN. WHAT FUCKIN THEN. WHAT IF SHE HAD A GODDAMN MOMENT OF PEACE IN HER LIFE ACTUALLY

4. Overhead by cabeswaters

Will and Cecil really need a new phone and Nico is weak for boys with freckles. (Or, Will overhears a conversation he wasn't meant to and for once it's not a bad thing.)

overheard is the best trope of all time idc. truly elite. there is nothing more romantic than discovering your beloved talks and talks and talks about how much they love you to others!! it is flattening!!

5. Watch Me While I walk Away by @buoyantsaturn

“Actually, I’m taking over the route - Connor, nice to meet you,” the driver said, before going through the usual sign here, first name, last initial spiel. “Thank you very much, and I’ll see you around!” 

oh being that whipped is EMBBARRASSINGG truly i get him. mitchell u are so real. and will is correct it is just like legally blonde how LUCKY

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

[coolprettyleo]

i need to forget - gabe perreault au ☆

wc: 1.1k

tw: depression, mommy issues, daddy issues, mean summer.

gabe perreault x oc

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

summer walked through campus looking like like a train wreck.

the always put-together girl was now seen only pale and with under-eye bags.

she had been going through a lot and the feeling of helplessness was the number one feeling in her mind.

her parent's marriage was falling apart, and every day, she woke up to calls from her father ranting about her mother.

she wouldn't wish this feeling on her worst enemy.

her mother had always been lonely. with her father traveling for work she always found herself a 'companion' as she would call it, in other words, she was committing the act of adultery.

she had been doing it since summer's eighth-grade year, or that's when she finally got caught.

her father always forgave her, but it looked like her mother had finally burnt out her father to the stem.

summer felt completely helpless, and the stress of trying to keep her family together was on her shoulders, even if it was across the country.

she shook off the thought as she entered the library and spotted the boy she was least looking forward to see right now; gabe perreault.

the boy knew how to get on her nerves like a leech, and it always resulted in the two bickering for no end. usually, she liked to be back, but with everything going on, she was not looking forward to it; at all.

"your late," he said as a matter of factly

"sorry, I woke up late," she mumbled as she sat next to him.

gabe observed the girl, noticing the bag under her eyes and the burnt-out look she carried, far from the usual persona summer held.

"are you okay," he mumbled, as if he didn't want anyone to hear that he cared.

"don't act like you care, perreault. let's just get this done so we can both go on with our days," she said moodily.

"there she is" he said grinning as she rolled her eyes and began her part of the assignment.

---

the two teens had been working for about half an hour before they were pulled out of concentration from the buzzing coming from summer's phone.

she declined it before it kept buzzing,

"are you gonna answer that" he asked not being able to concentrate with the buzzing.

"nope" she said as it finally stopped buzzing, before it began to buzz again.

"i can't concentrate"

"it's not my fault you have the attention span of a bee," she sassed as he bit his tongue. gabe could see she wasn't well, and he wasn't an asshole. he wasn't going to annoy her today, but she seemed to be making that challenge quite hard for him.

"what, you're afraid your boyfriend will be mad you're studying with me" he smirked with a bit of a spark in his eyes.

he had seen her with a guy last weekend and they seemed awfully close.

"just shut up. please" she huffed as she shut off her phone.

gabe decided to drop it once again as they got to work.

___

"i'm going to head out. you just need to fill out the last slide of the portfolio and turn it in" she told him as she stood up.

"we still have another hour,"

"correction, you have another hour, I'm done," she said, crossing her arms and walking out.

leaving gabe to shake his head and watch her walk out.

"she was overly mean today" he mumbed to himself as he began to pack his own things. he'd be damn if he was going to stay in that library alone.

he turned the corner to hear a voice arguing on the phone; as he neared, he heard it was summer's voice, and although he didn't mean to eavesdrop, he still did.

"i don't see why you can't just stop seeing him," she said to whoever was on the phone

"It's lust, Mom," he heard her say with a voice that was raw with emotion.

she was arguing with her mom?

"please don't do this, please," he heard her beg before he watched her lower her phone from her ear. her mom must have hung up.

she let out a choked sob as she leaned back onto the wall. Summer could care less that she was in public; her mom was leaving her dad, claiming she finally learned was 'love' is.

gabe watched her for a moment, fighting with his thoughts on whether or not he should announce his presence.

"summer?" he said acting like he had just arrived.

the girl's head whipped up to see the last person she wanted to see her like this standing in front of her. She wiped her tears and rolled her eyes before trying to rush past him.

"you didn't see anything, perreault"

"are you alright," he said blocking her

"move" she told him

"summer"

"please, gabe," she said beggingly.

"you don't have to tell me what's wrong, just let me take you to get some food or something, I doubt you've eaten today," he said seriously.

summer did not expect him to say that. she was honestly expecting him to start mocking her and call her a spoilt princess.

"if I go, you won't tell anyone you saw me having a mental breakdown outside the library?" she said sniffingly.

"I wasn't going to tell anyone anyways" he told her.

she observed him, looking for any hint of jokingness, but he looked wholeheartedly genuine. she could use some food, but with gabe?

she decided against the alarms that were going through her head and agreed to join him.

"sorry i've been mean to you, i've just been going through a lot and it's not your fault at all, i'm sorry" she mumbled as they started walking towards the closest ihop.

"it's fine, i kind of got you weren't up to play today" he chuckled

"you call what we do playing," she said with a raised eyebrow

"well, I'm playing most of the time, but then you go deep, and I actually get mad," he said, smiling, seeing as he was finally pulling a smile out of the girl.

"im sorry it's just really funny when i piss you off" she laughed

"why," he said throwing his arms up

"same reason you do" she smirked as he playfully rolled his eyes

the two walked into the closest IHOP, not knowing the relationship that was beginning to blossom.

[chrisgetsmewet]

summerween

Pairing: dad!chris × reader!mom

summary: you decided you want to do summerween activities and include your daughter.

Warning: none now enjoy

a/n: soo i wanted to start a series and actually complete it. but i feel like i should post this then do that. also this isn't proofread i fixed a few things but i didn't read over it again.

10:23 pm

sofia was laying on the couch watching tv with her grandmother, (marylou) and it was the summerween episode of gravity falls, on a specific part is when the idea came to you

"Summer what?"

"Summerween, the people of this town love halloween so much they celebrate it twice a year.

"Summerween? something about this feels un natrual"

(For ones who doesn't know the audio or scene im referring to)

"we should do this" you point at the tv in a gesturing manner

"what do you mean?" marylou looked over at you

"not for me obviously everyone can celebrate it and have fun but mainly for sofia. jimmy could grill and we can have fun by the pool, carve pumpkins, then for the rest of the day we watch Halloween movies and eat popcorn and candy" you say using hand gestures when speaking and suggesting what you guys should do tomorrow.

"Oh thats sounds like fun, I'll tell everyone tomorrow" she left to her room telling you 'goodnight' before she left.

You just nod in response and look over at sofia who was sitting next to the spot her gandma was at, she smiled when you guys made eye contact. The 3 yr old should have been sleep, it was past her bed time but she kept saying one more episode until now, she had tired written all over her face. droopy eyes, getting all giggly over nothing, and yawning every 5 minutes.

after that episode went off she was already sleep which made the task of putting her to bed easier. Chris was already asleep on the arm chair he was sitting in while you were on him, his arms reasting around your waist.

You got off of his lap to get your sleep daughter, off the couch and into bed. he woke up from the change of your body heat off of him, he reached for you to pull you back onto him.

"chris, i gotta put sofia to bed"

"we all sleep in the same bed tho" he slurred, half awake.

"then c'mon chris" you retorted.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

9:05 am

you wake up from some of the sun peeking in from the blinds.

You sit your head up looking around adjusting to your familiar surroundings, with not so familiar bodies by you. chris and sofia were gone. you lay your head back down before pressing off the bed to get up and ready for the day.

--

9:23 am

Everybody was gone, they left to the store, you only knew that because you texted chris asking where everyone went. they all ate already, telling from all the crumbs that were left and a few forks and glasses in the sink.

you toasted some waffles, while waiting you heard the front door open and footsteps coming up, showing marylou and sofia

"mommy!" she yells opening her arms running towards you.

"hey baby." you giggled picking her up and bringing her into your warm embrace, her head pressing against your shoulder.

she sat her head up, still in your arms "we went to da story and.. and.. buy punkin and candy and bought blanky and pillows and.. i don't forget" the girl ranted on about half her day saying 'umm' when trying to remember.

"you mean you don't remember" you corrected her

"mommy i forgot. i don't know what we got" she said matterfactly.

You just sighed and placed her down, off to the couch she ran. Nick, chris, matt, and jimmy come in with groceries definitely more than what her daughter said.

"y/n your up. we missed you." Jimmy said placing down the bags he had in hand. "the pumpkins are still in the car"

"I'll get those" you replied meekly, sliding off the seat by the island of the counter.

"hey sweet girl" chris said, one hand landing on your waist, giving you a peck on the lips as you passed by him. going down the stairs where he just came up.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

4:49 pm

half the day past the sun setting ever so slightly. everyone was by the pool, the triplets parents were im the kitchen making food and jimmy came out every once in a while to grill a few things then going back inside.

sofia was in a floaty with a life vest, laying on her back relaxing, asking me random questions saying random things every few minutes.

"mommy what if could fly?'

"I don't know?" you replied swimming around her.

"i had a dream last day and trevor was dis big" she motioned, opening her arms as wide as she could. giggling, thinking back to her dream.

(istg if someone says something abt how they didnt have a pool back in boston I'll fight you. in this they have a pool)

"hey y/n come try this" nick called for you. hinting to the drink he had in his hand.

the boys went out to buy some drinks from dunkin cause when they drove by this morning and saw that the place was doing a summer special. they were infact still recording for their Wednesday vlog

"no! I'm staying in the pool"

"aww c'mon" he groans, "i want your opinion on the drink cause matr and chris said it was bad and i need a 3rd opinion"

"bring it to me" you wave your hand inwards, gesturing him to come to you.

"bro.." matt mumbled.

chris took the drink out of nicks hand and walked over to you, handing the drink over. you take a sip and it was actually good it was a strawberry lemonade with strawberry popping pearls

they tasted cheap and didn't pop when they were in your mouth but it was chewy but the strawberry lemondae made up for it, tasting sour making your mouth water and super sweet and if you could compare it to anything it tasted like a watermelon sour patch.

"It's good i guess" you let out a soft chuckle giving the camera thumbs up.

"i want a sip momma" the 3 yr old clapping her hands together and kicking her feet in excitement. you put the straw near her mouth and she takes a big sip, she pulls on her clothes squeezing her eyes shut swalloing the juice hard, putting her hand on yours that was holding the cup, shaking her head. you and chris laugh at her reaction.

"Im bout to go finish filming" chris walks back over to his brothers.

"ok" you watched him walk off , and you turn back to look at your daughter, her face held a repulsed look.

sofia taps her mouth then your hand then her mouth again. not quite sure what she was hinting at you reluctantly put your hand under her mouth and she spits the popping pearls in your hand.

when she spits the four into your hands you threw them into a random bush.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

5:32 pm

The food was done being made. Burger in the shape of pumpkins, mac and cheese, finger sandwiches and hot dogs. some ingredients that were used are being put away. I help marylou clean some of the mess that was made when the food was being prepared.

everyone got cleaned, wearing their Halloween pjs and was ready to eat. you got your daughter a plate of mac and cheese and cut up one of the sausages that were for the hot dogs to replace the fact she didn't have chicken tenders.

"thank you"

"Your welcome baby" you kiss her head and walk away from the table.

You see chris sitting at the island counter focused in on his phone. you took that as your opportunity to try and 'scare' him because normally it doesn't work.

You walk to where he is and let out a small 'boo' you push him a little and you felt him flinch a little. and he just quickly turned his head to look your way "that didn't scare me" he laughs off

" liar" you teased, "it didn't, you freaking pushed me"

you laughed at his response hitting his shoulder, remembering how he looked when he got scared. You laughed a little too hard drawing attention towards yourself.

"why's she laughing" matt asked giggling along.

"she thinks she scared me" chris was quick to defend himself.

your laughing comes to an abrupt stop "what he means is i did scare him"

"anyway. mom, dad the food is good" he changed the subject

"oh yeah, thank you marylou and jimmy" you add mouth full of food, using your hand to cover your mouth.

everyone else throws in their "thank you's" and starting conversation.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

After dinner, and eveything was cleaned and a bit of stalling on everyone's end, making up excuses of why one another can't go to the living room and watch the movie.

eventually we all gathered around in the living room deciding on a halloween movie the choices were hocus pocus, girl vs monster, and hallowentown. We all decided on girl vs monster.

The lights were all off, and a sweet cinnamon candle was lit.

i gave sofia a bag of m&m's and a lollipop. she let out a small "thank you" well actually she said (tank you) then engrossingherself back into the tv.

i was in the same place i was last night on chris' lap while he was sitting in the arm chair.

You nestled your head into chris' chest, with one hand he played with your hair, the other hand he rests on your leg, rubbing it back and forth.

"chris i just realized we never carved the pumpkins" you whispered to him, remembering the one thing you guys didn't do today.

"oh shit your right.. we could probably just do it tomorrow" he whispered back.

"mhm" you said before trying to go to sleep instead of watching the movie, exhausted from the semi long day you had.

a/n: if you actually read that thank you. Also i deeply apologize if this wasn't giving summerween.

[rowretro]

𝕄𝔼𝕋𝔸𝕃 𝕄𝔼𝔼𝕋𝕊 𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼

✧taglist✧: @baevsxii @nikisdubblchococake @lilyofhoon @cakuqe @lvyelleee @caithefly @manooffline @rishki

✧warnings: Yandere themes, toxic themes, unhealthy love, mentions of blood, manipulation(?), shirtless-ish riki

♡synopsis: Nishimura Riki. The Robot created by Yang Jungwon himself, a robot that is insanely human like, inside and out. No one could tell he was a robot. However, the Robot had possessed demonly powers, from Satan himself. So I guess you could see it's a half robot. Yang y/n, the younger sister of Jungwon finds herself stuck to this robot 24/7 no matter what she tried, he will always be by her because she's his muse, his world, his love, his obsession.

(PART 6)

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

"NO! YOU AREN'T COMING WITH ME WEARING THAT.... WE'RE GOING TO A GODDAMN SCHOOL RIKI WEAR NORMAL PEOPLE CLOTHES." Y/n yelled as the robot stared ahead coldly, dressed in an expensive suit, one'd think he were a rich CEO, but the sunglasses and the way he stands beside y/n makes him look like a bodyguard. "I'm simply dressed for the occasion sweetheart. My job is simply to protect you not to sit in a lesson I don't need to learn things I already know." Riki said as the girl sighed

"Don't call me sweetheart that's creepy... plus I don't need protecting, I'm only going to school." Y/n reasoned as Jungwon blinked. "Yeah but you do remember. that, from that exact school, one of the so-called students tried to kill you right?" Jungwon asked as he got ready for work "Oh yeah, yeah, but you do remember that, that exact student got his head popped off his body by this so-called body guard-" Y/n added as the male sighed. "Well you returned unharmed right? and there's a gang on the street that are too high out of their minds to even remember the exact crimes they committed-" Jungwon added as the girl frowned at him

Y/n fiddled nervously with the hem of her skirt as the robot drove them to school. "Can you at least keep your hands on the steering wheel?..." she asked as the robot continued driving, not even turning to face her "I don't need to." he coldly said as y/n blinked. Eventually, the drive came to an end as Riki pulled up into the car school's car park. "NI-KI bo- I-I mean Riki... you seriously don't need to come in with me..." Y/n said one last time, the robot just left the vehicle, and opened the car door for her.

Upon arriving at school, students had already started chattering amongst themselves, gossiping as they saw this handsome, stunning, tall man walk beside y/n, her hand in his. Something about his aura was both alluring yet unsettling. Yet it didnt stop the girls from twirling their hair and checking him out, they needed to shoot their shot.

Upon arriving in class, the robot stood beside her, hands by his sides sunglasses on, Suit perfectly neat. "seems we have a guest... please sit down-" The teacher simply said as Riki remained "Im purely here to keep my fiancee safe." Riki simply said as the students started murmuring. Y/n took a deep breath before turning to him, nudging him "Riki sit down... you're embarassing me-" she said as the male did just that, taking his glasses off.

Clearly it was a pretty stressful day. Teachers holding back every inch of annoyance, towards this male, who isn't even a student, yet has the need to interrupt and correct every tiny, human mistake, and answer every question like a nerd. But he found it boring. "I never knew robots feel bored... I always thought they're boring-" Y/n pointed out as Jungwon rolled his eyes, poking her with a metal robotic arm he had in his hand.

"Of course he feels shit, he's like half robot, half living human demon thingy- plus robots aren't boring." Jungwon defended as y/n rolled her eyes "Get a real girlfriend, or build yourself one. Then you'll get that there's better things than metal dolls." Y/n sassed as Jungwon rolled his eyes. "Ill find a girlfriend when I feel like it, the last 2 used me for money, and none of the girls you chose me actually have an interest in relationships." As y/n nodded, not dragging the subject along longer.

Riki blow dried his hair as y/n sat in front of the mirror, doing her skincare routine, and fiddling with her make up every now and then. "Why do you use makeup when you're already pretty enough?" Riki asks as the girl blinks, turning to him "Because I love doing it, it makes me pretty, sure, but it's very theraputic, and gives we something to do when Im bored" She explained as he nodded. "Can I do your hair?" he asked.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

[honeybeepoliinator]

Many are misunderstanding things in Bridgerton season 3 in part2 & aren't paying attention to Polin as characters & their Journey as a couple...

Book Colin wasn't best friends with book Penelope, She was friends with the entire family, but she was never close to him like how show Penelope is close to show Colin. In the show not only they were best friends since childhood, but she even knew/met him before she became friends with Eloise. Both versions have their own journey and shouldn't be compared

Book Pen in her long time as LW most of what she published is child's play compared to what show Penelope published. Show Penelope is also more deeply hurt, overprotective ( for the Bridgertons) & bit aggressive in her writing than book Pen. Show Pen was reckless and a lot of what she published was serious scandals not only that, but she published about scandals related to the Queen/Royal Family & she directly even challenged the Queen a lot of times

Colin reaction was more than justified in his anger, even more, than book Colin, in the books, most of what Pen wrote about him in LW was that he was charming & yes it did annoy him because he felt that he was reduced to that, but in the show, Pen wrote things related to Colin things that affected him deeply from the Marina scheme to calling out the fake persona he was hiding behind at the beginning of s3. After & because of the Marina issue, many including his own siblings called him naive & he felt that he was treated as a child, He was already struggling with self-worth, how he was ignored by others & what happened traumatized him & made him feel more lost than before. In s3 when he came back from his travels he had built this wall on his real personality & true self because he thought that others including his own family don't care about his interests & stories and he tried to be like other men in the ton, and when Pen in LW called his fake persona out he felt he was losing the walls that he built to protect himself & it added to his insecurities

Show Colin genuinely loves Pen & always values her opinions, so of course he will be more hurt & sad about LW being Pen. He also just figured out the depth of his feelings for her, and because of her love he came to the realization that him being himself was the correct thing & that he doesn't need that fake persona he built to protect himself. He became vulnerable and showed his sensitivity again without feeling ashamed or scared of doing so like before. So by finding out the person he loves deeply, his closest friend, the one he opens up to is someone who not only wrote things that hurt him (unintentionally), but the fact that she has this other persona/double life, hurt him deeply and they were engaged & has only days left before their wedding. It was a lot for him to process in a short time because he knows that he loves her deeply & doesn't want to let her go ever, but at the same time, it is hard to try processing that in a short period

People showed grace to Eloise & her feeling of being hurt by what Pen wrote and her hiding LW secret from her, but the same people are refusing to show the same grace to Colin despite like I said Colin in the show really didn't have much time to process things like at all. It took Eloise a year to come to terms with Pen being LW & forgiving her and people are upset that Colin was even mad for two weeks, it's really ridiculous how he as a character isn't allowed to feel hurt about something that affects him deeply

It's so weird that Pen was also allowed to feel hurt by his comment about her for a year, refusing to answer his letters, taking all her anger that was due many factors to take that anger on him, to be allowed to use LW to publicly call him out in a moment of anger & he isn't allowed to feel little angry over the LW reveal

I do know that some were upset by the entrapped line that he said to Pen saying it was harsh and yes it was harsh, but again that is man hurting, when he said it, it was the first time he saw her after the reveal, he is someone that has been traumatized by being lied to before during an engagement & while that he knows that she didn't trap or scheme him, what happened brought back those memories and this time it was related to the girl that he really loves, so he was just hurt & his face while angry he also regretted saying that when he saw Pen reaction to the comment. Pen also despite getting affected by the comment, she still understood why he said it & forgave him over it because she knew he didn't mean it & knew the history of his trauma

He let her leave alone in the carriage because it was Pen's family carriage, she was with her own servants & he was also still following her with his own carriage, he just didn't want to ride with her in state of anger plus he knew she was safe

Him not sleeping with her because he was upset & has a lot of inner feelings to work on & process are more than valid and actually the correct thing to do. It was clear he desperately wanted to be close to her & it was clear his love & desire for her, but if he ended up sleeping with her while they didn't resolve their issues, it would've skewered him and in the end, it would've made Pen feeling used ( as someone who been in relationship & slept with my ex while we both didn't resolve our issues, it made things worse not better & it hurt our relationship and hurt our intimacy more till it didn't feel meaningful anymore)

Colin never wanted to bring negative feelings & anger into their marriage bed nor did he want to sully it in that way. For him, that's a place of joy, love & passion only. He wants them both to be clear-minded when they get intimate. It just shows who he is as a person & how kind, mature & respectful person. He loves her & he has also been struggling with feeling not worthy of her and he feels that he made things worse for her and he felt guilty about that too, so even when he really wanted he just couldn't. He wanted all their passionate moments to come from a place of love & not a place of hurt, anger & guilt

At the wedding, he shows that he loves her & will always love her, and is just trying to work on his feelings because he knows that she is his soulmate. He noticed when she was walking down the aisle that she was worried & not used to the attention being on her and he nodded and gave her a reassuring smile to tell her that he still wants that & he wants her. Their vows were real too & at the wedding breakfast he had mostly figured out a lot of his issues, but whenever he tried to go to her he was getting interrupted & after they were lost in each other eyes during their dance, the moment was interrupted by the queen & the queen showing up reminded him of the remaining issues they needed to resolve

Some people coming after him for going to Cressida to call her out & saying he was mansplaining to her and isn't taking into account that she was desperate because she didn't want to marry an old guy, but like how would he even know about that. He went there to try to protect Pen in his own way & he already doesn't like Cressida like he literally saw Pen getting bullied by Cressida all the time over the years. He still said to her that all of them have their own loneliness & that they all deal with it in different way despite everything he did understand she was lonely

Some people are sad about the ton reveal being planned by Pen & helped by her family unlike how in the books it was planned by Colin & helped by his family. She stood up for herself, she defended herself, took ownership of her mistakes, finally used her own voice & healed generational family trauma. All she wanted of him in the show is to let go of his savior complex and to just support & trust her decisions and that's what he did in the end and that was beautiful & perfect

[tiddygame]

Ghoap god type au part 4! Now on Ao3!

part 1 /// part 2 /// part 3 /// part 4

I have not slept in A While because meds are meds so I don't know if this makes sense! Let's Go!!!

And shout out to these people for making me happy stim by requesting to be tagged! I hope this chapter is worthy of such an honor lmao:

@imjustheretofightforlove / @pieckyghost / @life-as-a-gamergirl

Ghost doesn’t know why he continued to give offerings to the god. He should have stopped when he had the chance, but he didn’t. Flowers, jewelry, rocks he thought looked cool, even an entire wallet he stole from a soldier who got on his nerves; It all went on the offering table. 

Something had changed. He doesn’t know what, but there was a difference. And not knowing was terrifying. Ghost liked to compartmentalize, to think things through and sort them into organized boxes. Decluttering the unknown was how he stayed sane.

If there is a problem, do not panic, just figure out what you can do. And if you can do nothing, then you have no reason to panic. The rigid line of thought was the only way he could trick himself into thinking he had any control over his life, that fate hadn’t already woven her strings.

So how do you think through something beyond your comprehension?

Try as he might, he could not and would never be able to truly understand divinity. There was no rationale he could apply to Soap that didn’t make his ears ring. It was all well within arms reach but firmly out of his grasp.

He shouldn’t continue to show patronage to something so unpredictable, so volatile.

“Besides,” Soap said, making eye contact once more. He grinned. It didn’t look human. “I’m not letting you go that easy.”

And yet, every night he would take his dinner to whatever lousy altar he’d created and sit down to eat with an entity that could kill him without raising a finger, would eat and talk to him like they were friends. He’s not sure of when he lost his fucking mind, but it was certainly long gone.

Everything about the god terrified him. It was ancient, domineering over one of the most prevalent parts of humanity. Everything had to die someday, and at the end of it all, Soap would still be there, even as it died too.

So when he appeared behind Ghost at a bookstore of all places, he damn near shit himself. 

He just wanted a book to occupy his time between battles, a distraction from the boredom of downtime. It was the same town as before, barely a few weeks since their impromptu meeting in the temple. He had been perusing the shelves and grabbed a book that caught his eye, some book about the history of the town, and was reading the back of it when someone was very suddenly right next to him.

“Anything interesting?”

Ghost flinched, reaching for a sword that wasn’t there as he turned to face the person who somehow got the jump on him. And just like everything else with the god, he doesn’t know how he knew that the person was Soap in disguise.

He looked nothing like the renditions he’d seen of the god; The man before him was short and had pale skin, light brown hair, and brown eyes. He looked about as non-descript as a human could get. Yet, he still knew that the man was no man at all, but a god that came from the heavens just to make his life miserable.

“Why are you here?” Ghost was too on edge and confused to put the fearful respect in his tone that he normally used when speaking to the god.

“I just came here to look for books, the same as you,” he replied, trying to keep a straight face and play it earnestly but smiling far too much.

Ghost didn’t dignify that with a response, continuing to stare down at him, book still in hand.

Soap sighed, “Alright, alright Mr. Grumpy, maybe I wanted to talk to you again.”

Ghost asked, “Why?” But he realized that probably wouldn’t get him the answer he wanted, “What do you need to talk about?” He was hoping to cut through the small talk and jump right to the essentials.

“I said want. Not need.” Soap corrected. When Ghost looked even more exasperated, he whisper-shouted, “I’ve been stuck in limbo for who the fuck knows how long! I need stimulation! Interaction! Conversation! Anything!”

Oh, gods above, this is the worst torture the god could have devised. He’d rather take eternal pain and misery over becoming a chatty god’s only conversation partner. Fuck, he’s done a lot of bad shit, but nothing to deserve this!

The god grabbed the book out of his hand from where he was still standing petrified and dumbfounded. Soap looked at the book, hummed, and then began browsing the aisle himself.

Soap mused aloud, “I’m not surprised you’re a history nerd… Is there anything else here that’s more interesting?”

A few weeks ago, the god had been so weak he could barely conjure a physical form, now he was in a bookstore to make fun of him?

“The god of death is calling me a nerd with shit taste.” Ghost hadn’t meant to vocalize that thought, but he was still trying to mentally catch up. 

It seemed to catch the god off guard as well, with him snorting as he tried to cover his mouth to stop from laughing, “I didn’t mean ye’ have shit taste, I meant history isn’t an interesting read when you lived through it.”

And at Ghost’s core, he was nothing if not a pain, so even as he was scrambling to figure out what was happening, he pointed out, “But you weren’t alive. You said you were in limbo.”

“Okay, smart-ass. Alive, limbo, whatever. I need a story — one I haven’t heard before.”

“Do you even know how to read?”

His accent became thicker with indignation, “‘Course I do!” 

“This language?” Ghost asked, gesturing to the shelves.

Soap immediately responded, “Ye—,” he cut himself off, looking at the book he grabbed from Ghost. It was upside-down and he twisted his hand awkwardly to have it back upright, squinting at it as he answered, now positive, “Yeah!”

Ghost mumbled, “Hmm, I figured you’d only be able to read dead languages.”

That one got a full laugh out of the god, he desperately tried to quiet his chuckles before they were told off for being too loud. Ghost isn’t sure why, but he felt oddly proud.

Soap was still smiling in an effort to stop laughing as he said, “That would make sense I suppose.” It seemed that not being able to laugh only made the situation funnier, huffing air out of his nose in a quiet giggle. “Well! What book would you suggest?”

Ghost pointed to the other side of the bookstore, “I’d suggest you stop looking in the non-fiction section.”

Soap looked around, muttering a curse under his breath. Seeing where Ghost had pointed, Soap grabbed his hand and dragged him along. Ghost was too surprised by the sudden contact to fight it, which was probably for the best. He may love his personal space, but he loved not getting smote even more. 

“Okay, well, now what book would you suggest?” Soap repeated himself, this time not bothering to browse the shelves as he looked at Ghost for a recommendation. 

Sighing in resignation, “What genres do you like?” If he could get this done with quickly enough, he might still have some time to himself before he had to return to camp. 

“I don’t know. All of them I guess.”

He is not going to get this done with quickly enough to have some time to himself before he has to return to camp.

Ghost let out an even longer sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose before coming to a solution. The store had their books sorted by genre, so it would be easy enough to grab one or two from each and then get Soap to pick one. 

The god of death’s personal shopper. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Luckily for both of them, Ghost has had an exorbitant amount of downtime and knew of a few popular ones that weren’t complete garbage. Death seemed content to trail behind him as he picked out the books, admiring the simple building.

The store had large windows facing west, golden light stretching over the shelves and reaching across the floor to tell Ghost how much time he was wasting. The smart thing would have been to just grab a random book, sing its praises, and hope he didn’t get called out on his bullshit. Of course, that would require being smart, so instead Ghost went through almost the entire fiction section, ending with a total of seven books. 

The stack of books was ridiculously tall as he set them down on a table at the back, intending to explain them to Soap and let him pick a couple. 

“This is everything, one book each from most of the genres.” Ghost backed away when Soap stepped closer, looking like an owl as he turned his head sideways to read the spines. Ghost gave up trying to understand the god. 

He pointed to the one on top, “This one is—“

“Fantastic! I’ll take them all,” Soap said, completely ignoring what Ghost was about to say. 

“What?”

“I’ll take them all!” Soap repeated, as if he hadn’t been clear enough the first time. He grabbed the stack of books, adding the one he’d snatched from Ghost to the pile as he walked to the counter.

“But… You don't have any money…” Ghost’s quiet protest went unheard as Soap walked away. He had a small existential crisis as he wondered what mistake he made that led him to this exact moment. He decided the mistake was being born as he followed after the god of death, knowing he probably wouldn’t have enough to cover the books.

Soap set down the books next to the cash register and gleefully asked, “How much for all of these?”

The shopkeeper looked a little surprised at the size of the stack but began checking them and adding up the cost. Even without seeing the number, Ghost was already bemoaning having to explain to a divine being how the economy and poverty work.

But apparently, Soap wasn’t done confusing him as he grabbed a wallet out of his pocket and began pulling out credits as the shopkeeper gave the total. 

At first, Ghost checked his own pocket thinking Soap had managed to steal his wallet and was in for a rude awakening when he found out Ghost was broke, but his wallet was still there. He wasn’t going to ask in front of the shopkeeper where he got it, but curiosity was eating at him. 

Ghost stared at the wallet. He recognized it vaguely but didn’t know from where. It was only when Soap was putting it away that he realized it was the one he’d stolen from that annoying soldier and offered to the god.

And who said your misdeeds come back to haunt you?

Once the books were all bagged, Soap gestured towards it and Ghost sighed as he grabbed the paper bag, supporting the bottom as it was lifted off the counter. Mirroring the same motion, Ghost gestured towards the door. Part of him was curious if the god would pop back out of existence when he walked into the light like he did last time.

Ghost whispered once they were far enough away, “You know I stole that wallet, right?”

Soap snorted, “That’s what made it one of my favorites.”

Ghost let go of the handles of the bag, only holding it from the bottom, and opened the door for Soap. Soap nodded in thanks like everything that had transpired over the last two or so hours was a normal interaction. 

Fortunately, the god did not vanish upon stepping outside, disproving his theory.

No, it was unfortunate. He wanted this to be done with. He didn’t want to keep talking to Soap.

His mouth didn’t seem to get the memo as he started to ask, “Why did you actu—”

“Ghost!”

The shout from someone behind him immediately sucked out any positive feelings he had. His usual glare was back as he turned to face the voice. There were two soldiers, a miserable little search party that looked disgusted at even having to go near Ghost.

“The General needs you for something.”

Of fucking course he does. He risked a glance to where Soap had been standing, unsurprised to see that he’d vanished. Ghost didn’t give them a verbal answer, just glared at them until they both began shifting where they were standing.

He felt a little relieved at being able to put the threatening tone back in his voice as he informed them, “I’ll be back before dinner.”

The one that spoke before looked to his partner and tried to forcefully say, “He needs you now.”

Ghost stepped closer, looming over them as he repeated, “I said I will be back before dinner.” He waited a moment, making sure they were properly threatened before he turned around and walked in the opposite direction of camp.

“Why were you at a bookstore?” One of them called out, almost accusatory as if it would stop him from leaving. He had forgotten about the rumor that he couldn’t read; He doesn’t know how it started, but it was a favorite amongst his fellow soldiers.

“What bookstore?” Ghost yelled back, not bothering to turn around.

The forest looked beautiful in the orange light of the setting sun. He was heading back to the temple, not because he missed Soap, but because it was the only place they wouldn’t be able to find him. If he really was needed, there would be soldiers crawling all over town searching for him.

He didn’t like going somewhere so secluded without his sword, but it was back at camp and he was not going back yet, wanting to piss off the general as much as he could. He hadn’t wanted to walk into the village with such an obvious weapon on his hip out of respect for the residents, but now it meant he only had a hunting knife to defend himself with. Nothing to sneeze at, obviously, but he would have felt a lot more comfortable making the hike through the forest with a heavier weapon.

A chill began to take hold as the sun dipped below the horizon. A cold front came through a few days prior that made sure the days were a lovely charming example of the upcoming fall weather and that the nights were frigid enough to make anyone regret not being on a tropical island.

He made the trek much quicker this time, now knowing the path. Which was a very good thing as the shadows grew stronger as he made his way through the trees, trying to make him trip on roots that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

When he got to the temple, he set the bag down and made quick work of gathering a small amount of firewood and kindling with the last of the waning sunlight, the chill turning into a freezing wind. His fingers shook slightly as he made a small campfire near the empty doorway to the right of the statue, paranoid about proper ventilation even with all of the cracks in the roof.

Using the light to see, he pulled down some of the vines, setting both them and the greener wood near the fire. Hopefully, they would dry quickly enough to be used later in the night. He quickly sorted through the books, taking them out and setting Soap’s collection to the side. 

He was trying to read the first page of his book when Soap appeared again. He didn’t look up as he greeted, “Good evening.”

“I do not like the way they treat you.” The god was blunt and Ghost couldn’t help but huff a small laugh at the amount of simmering anger the god held over what was a standard interaction for him.

“No?” Ghost asked, wondering why being told to return to camp was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

But he may have underestimated Soap’s anger as the god answered, “No. They don’t get to speak to you like that.” The sentence was punctuated by the campfire flaring slightly, the flames suddenly rising higher, illuminating more of the temple before they rescinded.

Ghost looked up at that, moving the book away to stop it from getting singed. He was not ashamed to admit that he was nervous, he just would never tell Soap that. To have him suddenly swap from someone friendly and charming to an undeniably pissed-off god was alarming.

“Uh—”

“They treat you like a fucking dog and can’t even speak to you with a shred of respect?”

The god’s form was flickering. This is what Ghost wanted, to know the tipping point for the god, but he wasn’t sure if this was the scenario in which he wanted to find out. He’d prefer for it to have been on the battlefield, the god having lost its patience with protecting him, not next to a campfire in his own temple.

“Soap—”

“Why do you fucking stay? They have no fucking right!”

The flames flared again and Ghost grabbed the handle of his knife. Just like the last time he was at the temple, he knew it would do nothing, but he could at least find comfort in the lie.

Soap noticed the movement, making eye contact. Soap was still breathing heavily and Ghost was doing the same, albeit for very different reasons. The god heaved a sigh, slouching over as he covered his face with his hands.

Once more, despite all rationale screaming otherwise, Ghost stayed. There was a long silence, the only noise being the crackling of the fire and the whistling of the wind. 

The god was sitting with his legs crossed, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands propped up his head. He was still staring at the ground when he asked, “Why? Why do you stay?”

“It’s complicated.” 

Soap looked unimpressed, “No, it isn’t.”

“No,” Ghost agreed. “But it’s a story I don’t like to tell.”

The god let out a long breath like he was trying to calm himself down as he rubbed at his eyes, “Didn’t you say you’d be back for dinner?”

“I lied. Late morning at the earliest.” Soap chuckled, much more tinged with defeat than it had been a few hours ago. The silence was back and Ghost hesitated before grabbing his book again.

“Thank you.”

Ghost wasn’t expecting that and felt a bolt of panic strike through him, not knowing what the god was thanking him for. 

Soap gestured towards the stack of books, “For humoring me today. I haven’t laughed in a long time. Thank you.”

The somber tone settled over him, the emotional whiplash from the past ten minutes alone was enough to make his head spin. Unsure of what else to say, he stuttered, “You’re welcome.” It sounded a lot more like a question than he intended.

Soap nodded and let his head fall again. 

And, just like that, he was gone, fading away with the wind. He stared at where the god sat, ruminating over his words. When he came back to the present, he saw that the books were gone as well.

He would have laughed, Death having grabbed his haul of books and scurried off in the breeze, but the honesty behind the god’s not-quite confession weighed on him. He tried to read, but was only flipping pages as his eyes ran over the words, not taking anything in.

He’s been in this situation before, waiting out time to piss off the general and he knew how it went. Sleep wasn’t an option; He always found something to occupy himself with to stave off the inevitable boredom. He was lucky to have a book this time, but try as he might, he couldn’t focus on it.

He gave up on reading and instead turned his focus to the campfire in front of him. He added another log carefully, taking care to not smother any of the other sticks. He didn’t have much fuel and he’d need to make it last until sunrise. 

Ghost woke up to light streaming in through the open doorway and birds chirping obnoxiously loud. He grumbled and tried to go back to sleep before remembering that he was never supposed to be asleep in the first place.

He tried to get up quickly, to stand to attention and scan for any threats or changes that indicated someone had come in during his nap. Instead, he sat up slowly, having to prop himself up on his arm to not lie back down.

His fire was miraculously still burning. The temple looked the same, there weren’t any assassins hiding in the corners, and his stuff hadn’t moved. It took him an embarrassing amount of time to remember that he never went to sleep with a blanket or pillow, yet now had both.

Instead of thinking about that, he stood slowly, his joints popping along the way. He yawned as he gathered his stuff, smothering the fire and folding up his bedding. Still not even half awake, he dropped the pillow and blanket at the base of the statue.

He grumbled out what was meant to be an expression of gratitude, but he’s not sure he got any of the syllables out. Taking as deep of a breath as he could to try to wake himself up, he began the walk to the river. 

It’s a miracle he didn’t get lost as he stumbled through the woods, listening for the sound of rushing water. When he finally got to it, he was sure to avoid getting too close to the slippery bank, not feeling like drowning so early in the morning.

He walked over the ramshackle bridge that crossed the river and led into camp in the early afternoon. Just like last time, most of the soldiers quieted upon seeing him. And, just like last time, the general came stomping out of his tent, though this time significantly angrier

“I need you to listen to me carefully,” he began, seething with so much anger over Ghost’s disobedience that he was twitching. “I am going to give you ten seconds to explain yourself. If you do not have a good reason for why you went AWOL, you are going to wish you had never been born, am I understood?” 

Ghost had mastered the voice of false innocence and remorse, “I’m sorry General, I wasn’t paying attention and got delayed by an hour.”

“An hour?” The general had a deceptively calm tone, one that spoke of being on the edge of doing something drastic. But the general was no god and Ghost had no qualms about giving him a shove.

“Yes sir, I know I said noon. I’m sorry for being late.” Ghost hung his head like he was ashamed. He was already mapping out a lie to explain why he arrived almost a full 24 hours after the search party said he would.

“Noon?” The general asked. Both of them were playing a very dangerous game, weaponizing an unstable but calm facade and putting on a little show for the rest of camp to sit back and watch.

“Yes sir.”

“I was told that you said you’d be back before dinner.”

Ghost lifted his head and glanced around, furrowing his brow in faux confusion, “Before dinner? No sir, I was trying to hunt for something to bring back to camp. They caught me right before I went into the forest; I might have said I was trying to find something for dinner, but I knew it would take me much longer than that.” Oh, how Ghost loved gaslighting.

The general’s lip curled, thinking he found a thread to pull, “Do you normally go hunting at night, son?” The words were full of poison, but Ghost already had an excuse.

“No sir, I looked for tracks yesterday afternoon, set up camp, and woke up early this morning to hunt. Unfortunately, I was no—”

“He’s lying!” One of the soldiers shouted, walking closer and shaking off his friend trying to pull him back. “He was walking out of a store! He wasn’t hunting!” Ah, that must be one-half of the search party.

Now emboldened, the other half approached from the stables, and joined in, “Yeah, he was leaving a bookstore with some guy.”

Uh-oh, that’s not good. He didn’t realize that they saw Soap. 

He was trying to figure out if he should outright deny it or try to claim that he, the notorious loner, had made a friend in town. A friend that just so happened to leave that day so they couldn’t ask for him to verify Ghost’s story. Hmm…

“What? No, he was alone.”

Never mind, that’s perfect; Only one of them saw Soap.

The two began arguing over whether or not Ghost had been alone and Ghost “timidly” chimed in, “Bookstore?”

The first one that had spoken paused his argument and turned back to the general, “He even had a shopping bag!”

Adding fuel to the flames of their anger, Ghost made a point of looking at his hands to show they were empty. He gently corrected like he was just trying to help the two remember, “I was walking out of a general store. Alone. I needed berries for bait.” 

The rest of the camp gave odd looks to the search party, the rumor of his inability to read not helping their legitimacy. Now he just had to hope they didn’t ask why he didn’t have any camping or hunting supplies aside from a small bag. 

The general looked more irritated than irate, “That’s enough. All three of you are being punished for insubordination. For now just get the hell out of my sight until tomorrow morning.”

Ghost tried not to smile too wide as he nodded and walked away, very happy that the general reached his limit before more glaring holes could be poked in his story. The other two looked offended at getting punished with him, one standing slack-jawed as the other even tried to argue before getting dragged away by his friend before he could dig himself a deeper grave.

Ghost was going to be punished regardless of what he did or when he returned, but dragging the other two down with him was well worth it. Plus, the rest of the camp would now think they were liars as well who tried and failed to get him punished.

All in all, it was a rather successful trip to the bookstore.

…

Had he been paying more attention, thinking more clearly, he might’ve thought to hide his tracks, to not leave an obvious trail to where’d been, to hide the evidence of his time spent at the temple of the god of death.

[catastrophicalcat]

Catwoman's Love Interests, Ranked

No. 1. Batman. Predictable? Perhaps. Correct choice? Absolutely. They work purrfectly together. I may roll around to write a similar post for Bruce, but from Selina's perspective, he is an equal to her, values her independence, and helps her believe in herself.

(From the double date in Batman (2016) # 37, where Lois is wearing Selina's outfit)

No. 2-10. Selina herself. She is independent! But seriously, one of the things I loved the most from her 90s run was how not romance-focused she was! It was a lot of fun and refreshing to see female main character just not give a fuuuuck about romance.

(Look at her, just slapping this creep away as a squirrel laughs at him! From Catwoman (1993) #30).

No. 11. Christopher Castillo "Blondie". From Selina's adventures in Rome, the Blond was enamoured, charming, and helpful. Also, it wasn't clear if the attraction was truly reciprocal, or if Selina just got a fun vacation boy toy.

(Catwoman, When in Rome #6)

No. 12 Dean Hadley. I am not sure he really qualifies as a love interest, since I don't think that Selina was into him, but at least he died heroically trying to protect her.

(Can't compete with Batman, dies tragically, from Catwoman (2018) # 34)

No. 13 to 20. Selina on her own some more! Can't get enough of this girl on her own! Love the storyline where she unknowingly has a crush on a serial killer in a dog mask. You know what she did when she found out the truth about her crush? That's right, clawed the shit out of him!

(Catwoman (1993) #53. I think this storyline counts as her loving herself than being into this guy - she barely had any qualms about dumping him once she found out; none of that "but maybe I can fix him" for this cat!)

No. 21. The Riddler. Shocking choice, I know! But I'm thinking here of the Lonely City version - Batman is dead, time has passed, he made amends, they found each other. Doesn't work in other continuities, was fun here.

(Catwoman: Lonely City #3. The reveal that Eddie was a coke addict makes SO.MUCH.SENSE).

No. 22. James Thien. I guess he was fine. I didn't like it because her interest into him was really jarring - this was during the post-wedding break-up period when Selina was generally falling apart. But James was neither fish nor fowl. There wasn't enough development for her to be genuinely interested in him, and her interest was portrayed more like genuine interest than a random hook-up.

(Literally, I think that this is all the development there is! And then I don't remember what happened to him. Maybe he also died? That kind of seems to happen to her love interests a lot. Catwoman (2018) #12)

Nos. 22-90. Selina on her own some more! And Eiko. And others. Never enough of Selina being on her own! I also think that Eiko goes somewhere here probably, if not in my earlier "Selina on her own spot" - I just haven't read the New 52 run so I dunno. Other possible contenders in this range:

Onyx (but I don't think they had enough development)

The Trickster (Reddit tells me he's a Catwoman love interest but I don't remember it so it must have been neither good nor bad)

Spark (also new 52, so I dunno).

OK, this is where we get to bottom of the barrel, where unfortunately most other folks are. BTW, what's up with Selina having so many relationships with older mentor figures?

No. 91. Frank Baz. Some mafioso with whom Selina was hanging out in Italy. Ranked so low since he seems like a bad guy, there was a big age difference with her being really young, and he didn't do that much.

No. 91. Slam Bradley Sr. I think that Brubaker did a decent job making the romance between Selina and Slam Sr. work. I like how the run addressed how messy this relationship was, and how Slam was kind of preying on Selina's vulnerable emotional state. (Slam shouldn't have won that argument, but at least it was raised!) But unfortunately this is ranked so low since Slam becomes kind of a chump later on in the run and Selina's relationship with his son makes this very creepy.

(From Catwoman (2001) #17. Their relationship was actually pretty good in the beginning, but quickly got icky...)

No. 92. Wildcat/Ted Grant. I really like the backstory of Selina learning boxing from Wildcat. It's a sweet little bit setting up her eventual super-heroics, plus, Wildcat is awesome! He's a grumpy old man who is respected by everyone, even Batman (whom he also trained). Which is why I hated when Wildcat/Catwoman wrote her to have a crush on him. Gross! Did I mention that he's old?

(Catwoman/Wildcat #3. The art in this book is really 90s)

No. 92. Slam Bradley Jr. I totally get that hot people in costumes would have one night stands on rooftops after adrenaline rush situations. And the poor guy died right after sleeping with Selina! Nonetheless, ranked so low because it's sooo weird since she slept with his dad - which I think he knew - plus I'm pretty sure that their relationship started really antagonistic. Principles before hoes, bro! Also, not his fault but I don't like how he messed up Helena's paternity story some more.

(Catwoman (2001) #61. No idea why Selina tells the dad the story about how she banged his son?)

No. 93. Cat cult person who kidnapped Selina, dressed her up as princess Leia, and tried to marry her. Forgot this dude's name. Considering the stuff he did, he was a pretty nice dude. But - the stuff he did is pretty despicable!

(Catwoman #31. I really hated this storyline, so I feel like he should be lower, but I also really hated Stark and Valmont, so where can it go? Also not sure that kidnapping and forced marriage qualifies as a "love interest"; may rethink including him altogether but I also wanted to emphasize how much I don't like Stark or Valmont).

No. 94. Stark. Criminal who took Selina under his wing when she was still an underage sex worker, and slept with her. He's also a murderer. Pretty gross person overall, really creepy relationship.

(Selina's Big Score)

No. 95. Valmont. I really hate Valmont, OK? I wrote a whole giant post already about how much I hate him!

[copperbadge]

So I did a bunch of research and asked you guys too about programs where I could input a block of text and get it set up in a certain way to do translation of the text, and I didn't come up with much that fit the admittedly very specific things I was looking for. But since then I realized I didn't want to be doing long translations at first anyway. @latinare, which reblogs posts with the Latin translation, made me realize that I could take short shitposts and do the same much more easily.

But not being a cool gimmick blog in the mold of Latinare, I kind of wanted to avoid piling on, so I've been grabbing short posts when I see them and translating them elsewhere with a source link. The point is not necessarily to do a perfect translation, but to spend a lot of time working with verbs, because I really need a much stronger understanding of how moods work and practice to help memorize regular conjugations.

So here. Enjoy some shitposts I translated into Italian this week. (Italian speakers, if you see errors, which is HIGHLY likely, feel free to point them out, I won't yell. Or if you don't want to, that's fine too, you're not i miei professori.)

***

be honest. are you guys only hanging out with me because of the prophecy. (Source)

Sii onesto: state rimanendo con me soltanto perchè della profezia?

Not actually sure perchè della works for "because of the" so maybe it should be perche c'è la, "because there is the"?

A life without collecting trinkets is no life at all (source)

Un vita senza sto collezionando i gingillo non tanto è una vita.

I'm not sure sto collezionando, "me collecting", in the Gerund Presente is the most elegant, but I don't know how else to say "collecting" when there's no subject. Also I'm not sure tanto is in the right place.

This guy would fuck up a one-car funeral. (Colloquialism I found elsewhere)

Questo ragazzo farebbe un cazzata di un processione funebre con solo uno macchina.

"farebbe un cazzata" means "he would make a fuck up" more or less, but it's idiomatic and I'm not sure it's good grammar to use di to attach it to the one-car funeral. Also not sure con is the right way to link a funeral procession to only one car, but I can't work out how to indicate "funeral" owns "one car".

sorry i overreacted i had no idea everything would be fine (source)

Mi dispiace che reagivo in modo eccessivo, non sapevo che tutti starebbero bene.

Google suggests andare, not stare, for "would be", but that seemed like a misuse of "going" unless it's an idiom.

guy who says "it's okay im reclaiming it" when you tell him not to take the lord's name in vain (source)

Ragazzo che dice "va bene, lo sono reclamando" cuando dici non prendere il nome di dio inutilmente.

I think probably "invano" is the more correct version than "inutilmente" for "in vain" but I like inutilmente better. Also I could use something other than dici but I like the symmetry.

[cbrownjc]

Hi! I hope you don't mind getting an ask from me even though we've never interacted.

I have a question about Old Daniel in the IWTV series, but I don't know how to put it except: what exactly is his current health situation? He has Parkinson's disease (or at least they show us ha has some symtomps, and Daniel says it is Parkinson's), but in ep 01 of the first season Louis calls it an "autoimmune disease" (which Parkinson's is not).

They show us that Daniel keeps a bunch of pill containers on his table in his apartment, which makes sense with how Parkinson's would be treated, but then there's the "levodopa transfusion" scene which does not. (I could try to explain the pharmacokinetic reason if you're interested).

And then there's the meals, during which they keep filling his wine glass, the two Martini scenes. . . why do they keep giving him drinks?They arrange for a doctor to come and administer the "therapy" (I'm not buying that it's levodopa), but he can have all the alcoholic beverages in the world? When they most likely would interfere with the pharmacological therapy he's supposed to be taking?

It all seems a bit suspicious to me. What do you think?

(apologies for any mistakes, english is not my first language)

Hi! It's fine to ask me questions even if we've never interacted before, I don't mind. 🙂

So, as far as we know older Daniel on the show has Parkinson's disease for sure. Daniel pretty much confirmed he does because Louis said he had it and Daniel confirmed it in episode 1x01. And the shaking very much shows he does have it IMO. Because he was specifically shown to be shaking back in episode 1x01 when he was trying to put the Fall of the Reble Angles puzzle together.

Now, as many who read my blog likely already know, I've talked about how my mom had Parkinson's and I was her primary caregiver (before she passed away). So I know a lot already about how that disease works. And so when Armand -- as Rashid -- was talking about "levodopa transfusions" for Daniel being scheduled back in episode 1x04 I was very much "WTF?" about that. The whole idea of that is sus because I know from experience that Daniel should just be taking his levodopa via pills. The only time my mom ever got levodopa administered via an IV drip was when she was staying overnight at a hospital.

So I've long thought there is way more going on with that "levodopa transfusions" Daniel got, and have talked about it here and here. Though at the current time, the theory I talk about in those links might be outdated at this point, though I think there might still be a little something to them.

But, if you know the lore, Dr. Fareed -- the doctor who arrived back in episode 1x06 to administer Daniel's transfusion -- is not only a vampire himself but runs a clinic in the books where he looks into and does experiments regarding vampire physiology. And something else that caught my eye about that clinic he runs as I've been reading Prince Lestat, is that it is said in the book that Fareed and his vampire Maker (and lover) Seth, "ran a small clinic for mortal incurables."

And Parkinson's is very much "incurable."

So yeah, I think something is going on when it comes to Dr. Fareed giving Daniel that IV drip of levodopa. Because even when it comes to the idea of cloning, that's a lot to go through just to get something like a blood sample or something I think. But hey, there's really no saying when it comes to that I guess . . .

As to such as Louis calling it an "autoimmune disease" I just chalk that up to either a writing mistake or, hell just Louis being a vampire. He might just not know the correct medical term to use for it. That is also something that is going into in the Prince Lestat book -- how it can sometimes be very hard for vampires to keep abreast of tech and other things at any given time if they do not encounter it or use it regularly. (Lestat is always forgetting and losing his iPhones). As to the alcohol that, again, could just be the show not really looking too closely at such things (because outside of medical shows, many drama shows don't), or maybe Daniel only being allowed one glass a night and being given some okay about it we never saw. Who knows at this point. 🤷🏾‍♀️