#anyway if anyone needs me ill be foaming at the mouth

[aaronwhorechner]

Aaron Hotchner Criminal Minds 2.14

[twistedchristianscience]

forgot to post about him here BUT I finished my silly little Vashraptor fursuit just before Emerald City Comic Con (and Vancoufur)

except he's not actually "finished", just finished enough for me to wear him to those cons for a bit. he still needs a few more details, namely feetpaws, the stitches on his torso, a more raptor-like hand for his prosthetic, and claws. plus I'm not totally happy with his ears so I might redo them. I'll make legs and different prosthetics eventually, but that probably won't be for a while.

as per usual of raptors, he looks pretty silly at any angle other than side profiles, so its a little difficult to get good photos while im actually wearing him.

more ramblings + WIP shots under the cut because this was the most complicated project ive ever done and im insane

so far, he's taken about $700 worth of materials and 150 hours but I'll make another post with updated numbers when he's fully finished.

the headbase is made of EVA foam, with a hinge from WeaselsOnEasels (covered with that pink fabric because I accidentally put it on the inside, rip) and 40 teeth from DreamVisionCreations. the eyes and antorbital fenestrae have .5mm computer fan pvc mesh-- his vision and ventilation are fantastic, rivaling my suit with a 3d printed base, but fine details like writing and text are lost as per usual with vision meshes (that's not normally much of a problem for me with the furry conventions I go to annually and know the layout of, but it made navigating ECCC a nightmare since ive never been before and the venue is HUGE. I imagine ill have the same struggles if I go to sakuracon-- anyone wanna be my handler for that? lol). the unfurred section is coated with Plastidip and spraypainted dark brown. most of his mane is zippered on both sides so I can remove it and make interchangable versions (I plan to make spiked-up hair in yellow, half yellow/black, and fully black) while the tip of it is magnetic so it lies flat against the base. his tongue is also magnetic. I was originally going to make magnetic eyelids, but in all honesty, I might prefer to make them velcro as they tend to be easier to adjust + more secure than magnetic ones.

the part I hated making the most was his tail, not because it's bad, but because when I was almost done with it my dog got to it and chewed it apart.

you can see there's an awkward little bump along the top near where the light yellow and black fur connect-- when im wearing the tail that bump makes it look broken. but since he's so mangled anyway it can just be considered part of his design since I didn't add any scars to it

the tail feathers were a bit of a nightmare to make but the progress shots are cool

the part I loved making the most, and that im most proud of, is the bodysuit. I thought the scars were going to be a nightmare to sew, but they were actually the most fun and I love how they turned out!! he will be getting an interchangable mane down his back as well but I didn't have the time to finish it. I might also extend the shoulders a little for a better fit, particularly the left as theres a noticeable gap between the suit and the prosthetic as it is.

I showed this video of the pattern to a friend at When Furballs Strike a few weeks back and she told me I was insane. she is correct, and I'm fairly sure me actually finishing the bodysuit in a week only proves it further. but I did it anyway, and I had fun doing it.

Fur used: Yellow (Hair/Mane, Tail Feathers): HowlFabric Buttercup Luxury Shag Light Yellow (Main Body/Face): MofuMofu Mi Yellow Long Fur White (Neck, Top Surgery Scars, Tail): BigZFabric White Short Shag Brown (Ears, Tail Feathers): HowlFabric Fossil Grey Luxury Teddy Black (Arm, Tail): HowlFabric Natural Black Luxury Teddy Scars: HowlFabric Salmon Minky Tongue: HowlFabric Banana Minky Inner Mouth: HowlFabric Vanilla Minky Inner Ears: BigZFabric White Minky

note about the mofumofu fur: it's pretty thin, if you trim too much you can see the backing through it. HOWEVER. this proved to be a positive for the bodysuit, as it's MUCH more breathable than thicker furs like howl's and bigz's. (for the one day I could make it to ECCC and two days of Vancoufur, I wore this suit for 10-12 hours straight with a sweatshirt underneath and never felt like I was overheating, the minky scars most likely helped with it but STILL??) it also doesn't get as matted. whether or not it's worth the $55/yd price depends on what you need it for, if it's within your price range and you're particularly sensitive to heat, I'd say go for it. I only needed a yard for this as I'm kindof a little guy (5'5", 120lbs) so it was worth it for me.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[kuwdora]

January 15 - if you made a painting embodying a character, who would it be? @sassaffrassa

I cannot remember if I told you about this one specifically, sass, or just foamed at the mouth about my other art ideas. Can I describe this coherently? Guess we’ll find out.

I would love to paint Ciri from the witcher books. This is nothing in my skill set right now. And it it probablyyyyy too many ideas to fit into one piece and could probably be 2-4 pieces. But maybe it’s just one very busy single piece. But it's Ciri and lots of things from the witcher books.

Stylistically I want to make a painting that’s surrealist/eldritch horror with fantasy vibes. Composition-wise I’m, ahhhh, inspired by the old Star Wars posters and Bosch.

I want Ciri’s face with her very huge scar prominent to be a main focus. I want horrifyingly exaggerated uterus to be a focus as well, fallopian tubes reaching out with tentacle-like horrors, ovaries dripping with blood, with disdain and rage.

In the background behind Ciri rises the Tower of Swallows—or maybe Ard Gaeth behind her. Stars in the background. Space and time, you know.

Ciri is flanked by all the people pursuing her for good and ill, so Eredin and Emhyr and Vilgefortz on one side, Yen, Geralt and the Hansa on the right. The fallopian tubes are wrapped around Vilgefortz neck because fuck that guy (I can hold many different kinds of feelings about shitty villain characters). But really fuck that guy and choke him out with a fallopian tube. Or maybe wrapped around all of them, Eredin, Emhyr and Vilgefortz.

On the right Yen has a bloodied lip and messy hair a la her captivity scene, or maybe her scrutinizing expression I think she’s wearing when she’s speaking with Freya in Skellige. Geralt is below Yen and is looking exhausted and determined and wearing a headband, jowly and pale. And beside him is the rest of the Hansa. Cahir with wet eyes looking up at Ciri like she’s hung the moon. Regis looking poised and mindful at Geralt, Dandelion holding his memoirs. Milva cropped hair with her bow Angouleme with a cheeky expression and maybe a knife.

Also have a smaller Vysogota over one Ciri’s shoulder, and Kelpie over her other. Maybe Mistle somewhere, too. Definitely need Ihuarraquax somewhere because fuck yeah unicorns.

Below Ciri and her exaggerated uterus is maybe moment from Ciri’s final fight with Bonhart, her balancing carefully on the beam and Bonhart thinking he’s got her but we know he doesn’t but the stakes are still high.

And just below that is Ciri riding Kelpie over the lake, and Avallach standing on the edge of the water watching her. And if I continue to be maximal I’d want to find a place for some compositional elements about The Spiral. Maybe a reflection in the water of the lake, or something anchored to Avallac’h in the scene.

To layer it even more like this is a Bosch painting meets meets Kahlo and Dali, I would have Nimue with a magnifying glass that she’s looking through from the corner of the painting, examining this Whole Scene with a dreamy-eyed Tilly at her side. Maybe reaching through the looking glass into the scene. Throw in an ouroboros somewhere. Maybe framing the whole painting??

Anyway. This is a lot. My brain is a lot and it is what it is… and hey now! I made a post about it, so it’s out of my head! I cannot and will not paint this, but if anyone is inspired oh my god have at it and run with the ideas if it moves you.

January posting meme + claim a date - can still prompt me.

[bitegore]

I would love to hear of your combiner blorbos. Anything about them you'd really like to talk about?

okay okay like so i am like. literally foaming at the mouth about motormaster all the time lately. for like the last two? weeks ? something like that.

anyway i love this fucking truck so much. he is awful and he sucks, and for some reason this is deeply endearing to me personally. I llove him. I have feelings for and about him. I am going to kill him to dead with my own two bare human hands and he can't stop me. because I love him.

anyway one of the things that makes the stunticons as a whole interesting to me is that they're very young, relatively speaking! they have very little life experience. they're like the terrans in earthspark (fucking psyched to see that by the way) in that they have never seen prewar cybertron, they have never spent any time outside the decpeticons on earth, and they don't really know anything about their past, their culture, their history, or, frankly, anything else. You learn from experience and most of their experience is being kind of ignored and left to their own devices when they're not being ordered to do stuff for megatron. Who's gonna teach them shit?

and like motormaster SUCKS but at least in part because he's like if you gave a 25 year old a giant sword, told him he was meant to be in charge of other people by nature, and then made sure he had zero experience socializing with anyone ever. Like they come out of vector sigma knowing how to fight, but they are not functional people. they suck and they are useless and Motormaster is in charge of them and also the worst, because he's technically an officer so he doesn't have to learn to play nice with the rank and file the same way the others do, and he also doesn't have to work with teammates to avoid getting in trouble like the others do.

Like okay listen. listen. He's stupid as fuck and he's very naive and the Decepticons say their thing is might makes right even though it's really not just might makes right and i hit you if you don't listen, right? They run around lying and cheating and stealing through most of g1 but might makes right. okay sure lord megatron totally. whatever. but this man is ten minutes old and smart as a brick. of course hes gonna buy in. Do you think he has the necessary level of experience to say "my authority figure is lying to me"?

and, like, living on might makes right alone under the thumb makes it really obvious how much of "might makes right" is nonsense, actually. Where under "might makes right" is "hey i got something you want and ill swap it to you if you cover my ass when motormaster asks who broke his cd player", you know? So much of human interaction and simple basic behavior does not fit into the paradigm and its pretty obvious IF YOU ARE UNDER IT. But Motormaster is not under it. And motormaster has no fucking friends.

like. it rots the fuck. it rots your brain. it rots your ability to relate to people when you're classing them "i could beat you" vs "you could beat me" and not "we are both people on the same side who want the same shit". it fucks your ability to socialize when everything is a power game and anything that isnt a fistfight is a prelude to what is obviously the relevant social posturing, aka, a fistfight. it fucks up your ability to even have a normal conversation when you need to hide all your insecurities so you stay on top, and make no mistake, motormaster does not even see an option outside staying on top.

like

like.

if he were older and had a little more going on under the hood id say he were afraid of not being on top but i dont think he's even grasped that that was an OPTION like. i do not think he understands what might makes right MEANS. i don't think he understands that if someone gets the better of him that he's now down under the thumb with the rest of them. I don't think he has ever thought about it. Why should he? He's stronger and they're weaker and that's the natural and correct order of these things, when would that ever change?

(When someone gets a gun, historically speaking.... not exactly a challenge for a fucking decepticon......)

like a lot of these thoughts are really so complex that i cant even communicate them properly in words i have to write fic about it to pin down what i mean. when i say i write fic instead of meta this is what i mean. the relationships the stunticons have are all like. they genuinely clearly care about each other or they would have fucking killed each other within ten minutes of experiencing each other's company i am fucking telling you. breakdown or drag strip would've done it, they're the ones with the most obvious stress lines that motormaster and the others are always pressing on. so there is some reason they haven't done it. and they all seem to really buy into the Cause and the Decepticon Line and for the most part that means they buy into might makes right. whoever strikes the first felling blow wins.

BUT IT DOESNT like the ritual fucking combat between Megatron and Starscream is clearly like

I. I don't know in g1 the violence they do on each other is actually really pretty low-key all things told. more people and more eloquent than i ahve talked about how weird it is that megatron "lets" starscream live but if you assume its pageantry for the troops to remind you that Leader is Strongest(tm) or whatever and Starscream, the only one willing to strike out against Leader, is bold enough to be second in command. when starscream really gets bold about it megatron really escalates too but that's rare for them. they don't do that often. you can sort of put it in as a ritual, it seems like it is, like it's real combat but it's a game. they're not really meaning it every single time. and its clearly on display for a REASON or starscream would just poison Megatron and be done with it. He's probably got his name in the will, you know? SIC inherits if Commander dies unless something is UP.

And we see it with TFTM too. When Megatron is dying and the Decepticons start arguing over who should be leader its couched in terms of strongest-

BUT THEY DON'T ACT LIKE THAT

THEY DON'T THEY JUST DO NOT ACT LIKE MIGHT MAKES PROPER RIGHT. THEY DO NOT. so it doesn't make SENSE to say that the whole army is like that. but its how leadership is transferred and i think it IS reasonable to say that the stunticons don't really get the pageantry yet. So they think Motormaster has to die, and it's sort of allowed, like it's not really but its how it works. And they haven't killed him yet, so there's something else there, like, despite everything they actually give a shit about this stupid idiot truck in charge of them

and i think there's another side to it, too, which is that he understands what his job and the expectations he's meant to meet are very clearly. he is in charge of his team so he represents his team. if his team fucks up that means HE fucks up. If command wants to take it up with anyone they can take it up with HIM (even though he'll go back and take that out on all four of his subordinates because he's mad and hitting them really hard is a convenient outlet. he sucks). His job is to be the guy who Command gives orders to because he is the strongest and he is the guy who Command gives punishment to because he is the strongest. He is the guy who is supposed to defend and stand up for the rest of the team because he is the strongest. Like, he definitely sees himself as like, 'earning' the right to beat the shit out of the other four by defending them from being beaten on by anyone else. If anyone tries to hassle HIS dumbfuck cars they get to fight HIM and he will hurt them until they will not do that ever again. Because that is his job. Because he is the strongest.

I think the other four know this, but like, they still resent him for the rest of it. It's not worth it. At least if they were being picked on by the rest of the faction they could lock them out. Motormaster lives with them. He's inside their heads. There is nowhere for them to go when they need a break unless he decides they deserve one. As you may imagine, no one is happy with this situation except Motormaster

except like he's NOT

he's not happy with this EITHER like you can SEE it he's so fucking unfulfilled and he thinks it's because his team gets in his way and they aren't respected enough and that might be part of it but i really don't think it is. he has no positive social contacts. He has his team but they kind of hate and fear him more than just about anything else, even if they do care about him somewhere in there. He's too busy being competitive and keeping his spot on the pile to have friends outside the faction. And he's too conscious about who lives underneath him and is a subordinate and a target to have any friends in the rank and file. He has cut himself off from every possible angle of positive social feedback and he is too fucking naive and inexperienced to see it because as far as he knows this is just his life! this is how it's always been! why should he want different? what even is there to change?

and the answer is, like, a lot of things, but nothing he thinks is important, you know? Friends is an autobot thing, that's for losers, and he doesn't need anyone anyway. he has his team. and they have him... right?

and then the like. the other bit that gets me is that like. he has no choice. he is this way because he is, not because he chose to be. So it's hard to know what he'd be like if you gave him options. But I don't think he'd choose to be any different now that he's gotten a taste. he likes being on top too much. The minute you concede that might doesn't make right, he loses a lot of the position he has, because he has to admit that the people under him have some kind of right, too, and they can get to him and if he fucks up they can fuck him up even though they're superficially physically weaker. He's got reason to maintain these beliefs. He likes being on top of the pile and I don't think he likes feeling like there's anywhere else he might be.

anyway i am going to eat him like a fucking candy bar. i love him. he sucks.

[niallloverontheloose]

"Stiles made a divine move, but he was only capable of doing that because Scott refused to let Stiles sacrifice himself or anyone hurt Stiles"

Look at what well known harasser and rabid Scott Stan - Derek/Stiles/Peter/Sterek/Steter hater Claude Frollo just posted in the Stiles Stilinski tag on purpose:

https://princeescaluswords.tumblr.com/post/661308239644868608/stiles-played-a-deadly-game-of-goo-and-chess

Hello @princeescaluswords 

Aren't you tired of obsessing all over a neurodivergent character you claim to hate and of using every single ableist trope and stereotype to belittle and demonize Stiles in an attempt to prop Scott up? 

"Peter claimed that chess was Stiles game, but Peter does tend to exaggerate" Funny how Scott stans are so bothered by Peter praising Stiles and pointing out that chess is Stiles' game to Derek that they need to lie and make shit up in order to belittle/invalidate it, isn't it? And by funny I mean ABLEIST  

The most hilarious thing though is that according to antis' own logic, Peter exaggerated when he said he was impressed by Scott's ingenuity in Season 2, too. Everyone who watched Teen Wolf knows that Peter Hale was being blatantly sarcastic and only did it to manipulate Scott into going to Jackson (which Scott did by the way), since Peter never even bothered to hide the fact that Scott can go die a miserable death in a ditch alongside Gerard for all Peter canonically cares and openly mocks Scott "my plan is to get Stiles to come up with a plan"  McCall's stupidity throughout the whole series. Thanks for proving a point, Escalus!

"Yes, Stiles did pull off a divine move in the episode of the same name, but he was only capable of doing that because Scott refused to let Stiles sacrifice himself or anyone hurt Stiles in order to save others. He found a way to save everyone, by doing the right thing" 

Scott/Posey fans really love to erase canon and give Scott all the credit for his friends' heroic actions and achievements, don't they? Another trait they have in common with Canon Scott McCall 

1• Stiles played a deadly game of Go against the Nogitsune AND a game of chess against himself (Void Stiles) simultaneously, repeatedly outsmarted and outwitted the Fox Spirit that chose him as his vessel, and then defeated it by making a Divine Move. Scott didn't do shit except whine, growl, obsess over Allison, make out with his new girlfriend, get his ass handed to him by everyone, be his usual useless self and throw jealous fits/temper tantrums somewhere in the background. Where he belongs 

2• Scott McCall doesn't have any claim or authority over his friends outside of Scott stans' self insert power fantasies and delusions. Scott also threw a tantrum because he didn't want Stiles to sacrifice himself and lock himself up in Eichen House to save his friends and everyone else. And yet Stiles ignored Scott's whining and did it anyway. Stiles found a way to save everyone, figured everything out, and did the right thing. And he did all that without conspiring with Gerard behind everyone's back, or lying to everyone, around him, or dehumanising werewolves, or selling the Hales out to the hunters, or violating rape victims. Unlike Scott, who did all those shitty things and still failed miserably at everything 

3• No one hurt Stiles in Teen Wolf Season 3B because everyone loves Stiles and no one wanted to hurt him. Not because a whiny, pompous, narcissistic fuckboy with a dumb true alpha title ordered them not to lol

4• Scott McCall doesn't have the authority to allow/or not allow anyone to do anything. Much to his and his fans' eternal chagrin 

"You probably would have figured something out. And Scott did. Repeatedly"

Again, that was sarcasm. Both Stiles and Theo used Scott's own narcissism, inflated ego and delusions of moralistic grandeur against him and mocked him for his self righteous hypocrisy to his face. And neither Scott nor his fans even noticed. Also: when did Scott ever figure something out exactly? When he tried but failed to assassinate Gerard? When he thought that he had gone from being utterly shit at lacrosse to being a star athlete in the span of a day because he was just naturally talented? When he threw Derek Hale under the bus and framed him for murder so that he could be free to stalk Allison and play lacrosse? When he claimed that Kira was a werewolf? When he accused Morrell of going around murdering people? When he assaulted and kidnapped Liam and then called Stiles because Scott can't even clean up after his own mess, let alone take responsibility for his own failures and shitty actions? When Theo played him like a cheap kazoo throughout Season 5? Seriously, when??????

As Peter, Lydia, Malia and everyone else have pointed out, Stiles is the clever, super smart one who always figures it out and never takes advantage of his talents.

Meanwhile, Scott is just a self righteous, judgemental, below average hypocrite who always takes the credit for his friends' heroic actions and accomplishments, judges and/or condemns others for things they never even did and conveniently gives himself a free pass for, and can't even plan his way out of a paper bag without his friends' constant help and support 

"They portray Stiles as chafing chained to a sub-par relationship with Scott, but Stiles literally has a break down when he thinks he’s done something for which Scott won’t be able to forgive him"

Nothing demonstrates Scott fans' ableism and utter lack of empathy more than them trying to cheapen Stiles' trauma and make it all about their fav. Stiles Stilinski got mentally and physically violated by a Fox Spirit who chose him as his vessel; sacrificed himself and locked himself up in Eichen House - supernatural prison/mental institution - to save everyone else; got abused by the wards; repeatedly forced to kill people; couldn't sleep; has been suffering from panic attacks since he was a child; remembered when his mentally ill mom abused him and called him a monster during his childhood; was stalked and brutally assaulted by Donovan; had accidentally killed his abuser to defend himself; and then got gaslit, dehumanised, judged and victim blamed by Scott for it; got blackmailed by Theo and abandoned by the abusive best friend whose ass Stiles risked his own life to save throughout the whole series ("You need me! You trusted him, too!") And yet Scott Fans will try to make it all about Scott instead... which is another trait antis share with Canon Scott 

Scott/Posey fandom's jealousy, ableism, hypocrisy & obsessive hate boner for Stiles and Derek specifically are as blatant and as creepy as ever. Teen Wolf got cancelled due to shitty ratings years ago, and Posey's career followed it down the drain immediately after. But his stans are still out there foaming at the mouth, spewing ableist garbage, and throwing tantrums just because people don't like their shitty fav and have the audacity to prefer Stiles and Derek to Scoot 

BUT SCOTT FANS ARE NOT OBSESSED 

[kareofbears]

persona 5 royal: my thoughts after finishing it five minutes ago

disclaimer: the only reason im writing this is because 1) i have a lot of thoughts and feelings that i need to write down and if i dont ill explode and 2) i want to be able to find this when p5s eventually drops so i can compare my thought processes. if you do not agree with what i’m going to say, that’s cool! just block me or ignore this post. 

now for the sake of sanity, i’m going to try and narrow down this entire list into chunks because this’ll probably be very very long and very much about me just screaming about stuff that i liked, loved, and don’t like. i will be spoiling both the original persona 5 and persona 5 royal, obviously, so i hope you finished both!

1) Akechi

so yes. Goro Akechi. Everyone’s favorite murderer. I’m going to by spewing a lot of hot takes, and this is probably going to be the spiciest: i am in the most intense love-hate relationship with this brown haired antagonist because jesus christ is he a complicated son of a bitch. I know i’ve complained in the past about how much Atlus often struggles with utilizing a character well, but that does not at all relate to Akechi in any way, shape, or form. 

I’ll say this now: He is a character I genuinely, truly hate, yet he is the one I want to hear from the most. He is someone who is a bad person (yes, he is a bad person) but whenever he comes on screen he makes me sit up, he makes me pay attention to him because that’s just the aura he exudes. He is a character who i would never, ever waste my time defending or justifying his actions, but every minute joker spends with him is a minute i want to stretch out as long as possible because he is just that good of a character. He is interesting, he is well defined, he is smart, he is clever, he is sassy, he’s a motherfucking asshole who’s never had a vibe check in my life and i still hate him. Goro Akechi is what Star Wars wanted Kylo Ren to be, and that allegory may not make sense to many people but it works for me so i’m saying it. It’s to the point where writing akechi in a fanfic makes me sweat because in my opinon capturing the essence of akechi is near impossible unless you know what you are talking about (i do not mean that in anyway to discourage people from writing him, im just saying that I am a coward because i will never be able to write a good akechi). Anyway, bottom line is: i despise him but my eyes are always glued to him at all times.

back to the main point-- Atlus absolutely nailed this character and every single addition they put in for Akechi. I’m so damn thrilled that you actually have confidant hangouts with him because every single time you talk to him, it services not only the plot, but it perfectly does what it is supposed to do: it makes you like him, but also leaves the player slightly unnerved. they do it so casually that I might have trouble explaining it, but bear with me: everytime you hangout with him, he always does or say something that unhinges you just a little bit, it leaves you asking ‘wait why?’ or ‘but how did you know that’ or ‘why are you saying that?’. akechi is constantly playing mind games with you. and not only that, adding backstory to akechi (moreso than in the original) is just fucking fantastic. he’s always been a fully fleshed out character but after playing royal, goro akechi actually exists in my mind, and i still hate him (but also i dont. but also i do. anyway)

2) the ending

just finished the game and this is the point where i am at odds with p5r for the first time. the ending to p5, in my opinion, was flawless; everything was perfect and had meaning. from the shot of akira being shown to not wearing glasses anymore because he no longer feels the need to wear a mask (character development: he was very unhappy at the beginning of the game and now he’s happy with his friends--i love it), to his friends being the one to drive him home (amazing, he left his home town and came to shibuya alone via transit, and one year later he’s now leaving with all of his best friends in a van they rented just so they could stay with him as long as they can--it’s perfect, i love it), and also all of them seeing how large and infinite the ocean is (because now there’s unlimited options for them because they all have a new perspective on life). 

But....none of that is there in p5r. it feels impersonal. no one drops him off at his hometown, he was still wearing glasses, and there’s no grand metaphor about what they all achieved. 

Now, i am not a (complete) moron. I know why they had to change it: it’s because of persona 5 scramble (i think). they wanted to set up a plot for the next game and i feel like thats the reason why persona 5 royal’s ending suffered for it: they were too focused on the next plot that they forgot to focus on the sentimental ending for p5r. don’t get me wrong, seeing akechi in the train station absolutely made me lose my shit and made me scream at one in the morning, but i think they lost the core meaning in doing the other stuff. i did not like the focus on maruki and kasumi (will be talking about them later), cause i feel like it took away from the ending, and i also didn’t like the fact that the whole joker outfit in the reflection thing (but i will be letting it slide since it was during the after credits anyway). So while i do love one (1) new aspect of the final cut scene, i still adore and stan the one from persona 5. 

3) the entire last semester 

i’ll be quick: the final palace? the best palace. fight me. it’s fantastic, it’s innovative, it’s interesting, and most of all, the palace ruler is actually the best one in the entire game and i know i wont be the only one to say this. maruki is not a villain: i know for a godamn fact that im not the only one to say that i almost agreed with his deal of allowing the reality (damn i almost agreed twice) because why wouldnt you?? it’s literally a perfect reality! the only reason i didnt agree is because i knew the game wouldnt want me to agree and would force me to have the bad ending! anyway, i love the last section so much. the palace design is interesting, the antagonist is brilliant (who doesn’t love a morally gray antagonist?), and finally, the payoff of kasumi happened and it made me silent for ten minutes. the entire reveal of her being sumire and kasumi being dead is just so genuinely shocking to me that it nearly broke my neck.

what actually broke my neck was the initial incident for the third semester. seeing everyone in this wild alternate reality made me so unsettled that i literally got a stomach ache. i saw morgana as a human and nearly passed out. shiho in the underground? wig. ryuji saying he’s on the national pedastal for running? literally my eyebrows just popped off my head. fucking WAKABA? FLATLINED. brilliantly executed and i love the initial akechi and akira buddy cop movie vibes in the beginning it was just so fun. 

one huge part of the third semester for me though, was of course, akechi. seeing him completely throw away his ‘charming ace detective’ speil was the most refreshing and interesting and not to mention, hilarious part of the game. he does not give a fuck about anyone and he is not afraid to let you know. he is the biggest savage and the most insane person on the phantom thieves group. he’ll roast you, he’ll roast your boyfriend, he’ll roast fuckin anyone and it’s fantastic. not to mention his dialogue is killer: he says the most bat shit insults ever and my favorite example is when you go up to him near the end of the game, you know, to hangout with him and be a nice guy, he just does not hesitate to say ‘what, you came just to see me? just the sort of brainless sentimentality i’d expect from you.’ i LOVE IT because why the hell would he try to be nice? the jig is up, he’s got nothing to hide. and he owns it. atlus seriously nailed akechi in this last semester and it’s brilliant and i love it.

4) everything else 

- one small thing that pissed me off in both games (but especially this one) is how many godamn fake out deaths there are. Morgana has one, Akira has one, Ryuji has one, Sojiro has one, Maruki has one, motherfucking Akechi has two. it just hurts me!

- sumire is an amazing character who has depth and she is lovely and my biggest complaint is that it feels like atlus shoved her in. like, she feels like a new addition to the game, you know what  i mean? maybe its because ive played the original p5 first, but you know, it’s not a big deal. but i love her so much

- on the topic of sumire, i cant say that im completely super duper happy with how different she felt from the other thieves? im sure that’ll be explained in p5s but she just got so much screen time that it just truly made me confused?? maybe im just a horrible person, or that’s just a really hot take. but anyway, yeah maybe im bitter because i really wanted to see extra hangouts/school trips during royal, but didn’t really.

-baton pass? literally orgasmic. it made turn base battles so damn fun and the addition of darts and billiards made me foam at the mouth it was SO SMART AND INNOVATIVE AND I LOVE IT ATLUS I LOVE YOU ATLUS YOURE SO SMART SWEETIE

-small thing, but making spells like ‘dormina’ actually useful just made the game so much more fun and dungeon crawling became something i truly, genuinely looked forward to

-being able to give gifts to my bros? absolutely incredible. thank you. side note: seeing akechi happy from giving him a multi vitamin cracked me up. side side note: giving ryuji a fuck ton of weights and him just smiling made my heart so happy i love that boy so much

- ah this game just looked so GOOD! i thought the original looked good but they really went all out. im not kidding, the smallest details in everyday life or even just normal cut scenes were out of this world. especially stuff from the third semester its just OOF good JOB atlus i love you buddy

-ahhh thieves den! how can i forget? i love it. at first i was a bit iffy with it since it really felt like persona 5 (undoubtedly the biggest game atlus has created) was just jacking itself off. but as time goes on, it became a huge addition to the game and seeing characters’ insights and extra lines of dialogue became super duper interesting and a highlight of the game for me. and don’t even get me started on how much i love love love the photos they added of them hanging out! so lovely, a bunch of them made me tear up

- i know it’s literally impossible, but i feel like the game just forgot that akechi is a person who can wield multiple persona and i just wish that could’ve been messed around with during Palaces

- showtimes are so, so crazy and i get so embarassed whenever they play on my tv because they are just outlandish and unashamed but i love them so so much it just defines persona’s personality 

-because i love ryuji: i prefer the final conversation you have with him aka ‘whaddya mean? you’re there’ but there’s still a lot of really tender and sweet moments like akira genuinely telling him that he’ll miss him, and also the fact that ryuji wants you both to send each other your times through the exercise watch so you can still race ahhhh i love him so much yall

so, overall, this game is better than the original p5 because of the extra content we get. if persona 5 was the perfect dinner, persona 5 royal is that same dinner and you get to enter the dessert buffet. it’s brilliant, it’s smart, it’s hilarious, it’s heartwarming, and it’s undoubtedly my favorite game of all time without exaggeration. while i do prefer the final cut scene (and final dialogues with some characters) in the original persona 5, in the overall experience, persona 5 royal is superior in my mind. i would willingly get amnesia to play this game again. 

I didn’t get to cover everything, but this is definitely most of what i wanted to say. if you actually get to reading all the way to the end, thanks! it means a lot. i hope we can all enjoy persona and look forward to persona 5 scramble together :-)

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[burnedbyshoto]

if you sent any asks (recommendations for things don’t count as I have to look around!) since october 17 until october 22 it is in here :)

anon said: The header for your askbox response post is *aesthetic*. I think it’s a really good idea to post one every few days if you have the time. ❤️

well, thANK YOUUUUU!!!!! I put in a whopping 10 minutes into it because I had no idea what I was doing! i’ll definitely be doing asks this way now though.

big dick kiri anon said: !!!!!! ILY HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY PLS HYDRATE 💙💙❤️❤️ -bigdickkiri

Omg love! Please don’t worry about kinktober just breathe! Take your time and try to relax 💙❤️- bigdickkiri

DAMN, that is a LOT. Please look after yourself and don't stress about it love!! - bigdickkiri

I'm very excited. BUT PLEASE LOOK AFTER YOURSELF, DO NOT FORCE ANY OF THIS OMG - bigdickkiri

AHH, AMAZING, TALENTED SWEETHEART, GORGEOUS LOVE, HAVE A INCREDIBLE DAY AND HYDRATE - bigdickkiri

I believe I did have a good day, and I am actually super bad at hydrating, buT ILL TRY TO GET BETTER!!!!

I am breathing!!!! JUSTTT BREATHEEEE!!! I am taking my time now and relaxing to the best of my ability :D thank you so much bdk I love you with all my soul

theres always a lot, but if im not doing a lot I dont do anything so on one hand.... it’s okay LMAO but I will continue to try and not stress :D

BDK I WOULD NEVER WANT TO MAKE YOU THINK IM FORCING THIS OUT OF MEEEE ILL TRY MY BEST TO MAKE YOU PROUD

GHSOGHJIAORGJRGIRAHG YOURE AMAZING, BEAUTIFUL, TERRIFIC, INCREDIBLE!!!!!!! YOU HYDRATE AND MAKE SURE YOU KNOW THAT I LOVE YOU

@bread-theduck​ said: We love you and support you ❤ dont push yourself, your mental health is so much more important that kinktober haha. Take all the time you need, we're right here and open if you wanna talk~

I don’t really try to push myself... it just happens subconsciously D: but thank you for the love and support!!!! my mental health is stronger than I give it credit though

anon said: listen! we all appreciate you and your writing dearly but! I think we can all agree that we want you to be okay mentally and physically before you make yourself write! kinktober can wait! you’re more important!! at the very least, pls take a break for tonight.

I honestly can’t even remember when i said I was tired, but thank you for your kind words regardless!!!! I am trying to get better at it because i don’t want to disappoint you guys D:

@saintbullet​ said: Please take care of yourself!!! DONT risk your health for writing. We care about you so much! Be careful 💕💕💕

I know I push myself a lot, and i’m really sorry for scaring you all!!!! I am trying though, and it just has a lot to do with my mental fatigue and that im judging some hard classes right now then it has to do with anything

anon said: hey it'll be alright! idk whats wrong but i promise everything will work out like its supposed to! you just take care of yourself and take as much time as you need to feel better!! we love u!! ♥️

It wAS MY PERIOD I REMEMBER NOW AHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! I LOVE YOU TOOOOOOOO WITH ALL THE LOVE MY HEART POSSES!!!!!!

anon said: periods can be a pain so pls take care of yourself!! drink lots of water and rest up!!!

my period is the worst, if she was a person i’d block her and avoid her irl!!!!!!!!

anon said: Lol ok so gay for Mina anon back and no, I was not the anon who requested it. But lmao, let me take this time to whole heartedly thank that anon for quenching my thirst anyways

oh whoops, sorry for thinking you were someone else D: iM GLAD TO SEE THAT YOU WERE HAPPY WITH IT!!! READER WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A BAD GUY BUT I COULDN’T FIGURE OUT HOW TO MAKE IT WORK LMAO

anon said: I am just planning on hanging out and reading all the lovely writing that comes from this

i’m pretty sure this is about my nsfw/sfw headcanons, and honestly im sooo very excited to start working on them!!!!!!!!

anon said: you have no idea how happy I got when I saw u posted for mina like UGH MY WIFE I LOVE HER SO MUCH 🥺🥺🥺 N GIVING US GAYS AMAZING CONTENT UR AMAZING MWAH MWAH KEEP BEING THE PERFECT ANGEL U ARE 🥺🥺💞💗💖💕💓💝

AHHHHH IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT MINA IS LIKE MY FAV CLASS 1-A GIRL SO I LOVE HER SO MUCHHHHHHHHHHH YOURE AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU AND YOURE AN ANGEL!!!!!!!

many a anons said: Sorry I didn’t see the part where you said not to request characters that were already on the list I thought that was the list of character we could vote for.

so sorry I accidentally sent a character in that has already been requested, Tumblr didn't show me the follow up posts ;;

nooo I didn’t see the list I’m so sorry 😭😭😭

LOL ITS OKAYYYY. y’all were hoes and kept sending me shouto who I couldn’t even think about deleting from my list... so... you are lucky >:(

anon said: hello! not a request here but take care of yourself anc stay hydrated bb 🥰🥰

I got my water right next to me rn bby :D

anon said: be todoroki’s girlfriend

bitch I am todorokis WIFE, why would I need to dress up???

@girl-with-a-mentality​ said: You can be todoroni for Halloween.

....you right...

anon said: Thirst post infoo ;3 I found a doujinshi of Bakugo being teased and toyed with sexually with by Ochako, Yaomomo, and our lovely momma Mina

...send it

anon said: GIRLLLLLL

ANONNNNNNNNNNNNN ;)

local dumbass anon said: local dumbass is here once again, i thiink you know who i am and might've found my ig buuuuuut..?

uh.... I don’t know???????? I only followed people on insta if you gave me your handle or followed me first.... also did you cut your bangs?

anon said: Your Monoma scenario was really good!If we’re being honest, though, Monoma would literally start foaming at the mouth if he saw anyone from 1-A making physical contact with his s/o, ESPECIALLY Bakugou. They would have to call animal control because there would be a rabid Monoma in the dorms lol

okay... while you’re not wrong, I just thought 18 year old monoma should have grown up just the tiniest bit! plus his obsession is controlled because of his insecurity so LMAO IDK I JUST THOUGHT MAYBE UGH

@awkward-theaterkid​ said: I was reading your Day 19 Fic but I couldnt take it seriously, the title "My Way" kept reminding me of the Backstreet Boys "I want it that way" and it keeps popping up while I read it 😂

as someone who only heard that song because of b99 I read this and immediately thought of b99 LMAOOOOO

🍒💥anon said: URGENT PSA: LYSSA IS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING AND I LOVE HER -🍒💥

Hello Queen Lyssa, I finally read "And They Were Roommates" and have absolutely no idea why I put it off so long! ITS A MASTERPIECE. Each chapter is addictive and the slow burn and angst destroyed me 😭 The smut in the final chapter is flawless and sooooooooooooooooooo H O T. Shoto wasnt even my favorite character but he might have to be now (or at least in my top 3) 😰 This is my new favorite series and I cant wait to re-read it!!!! YOURE AMAZING AND ILY. You own my soul now -🍒💥

URGENT PSA I LOVE YOU CHERRY EXPLOSION AND YOURE AMAZING :D

ATWR holds a special place in my heart uwu.... HAOGHIOSRGSIOGJSIHG THANK YOU!!!!! SHOUTO IS AN AMAZING CHARACTER WHO I LOVE WITH ALL MY HEARRTTTTTT

~ thank you to @didyoumeanme​, @kittenlordofdarkness​, @soafers​ for submitting memes and animal pics for my rommate, much appreciated :D ~

anon said: Did the local dumbass anon ever cut their bangs? Do you know?

....I dont know, but I just asked her rn >:)

this paragraph is dedicated to those surrounding to the meltdown mess that occurred yesterday. to each and every one of you who sent me kind words via my askbox or directly contacting me, thank you. I really want to move past this because I feel by holding on it will make me feel less inclined to write because of my guilt. of course, I do not expect you to forgive me, or trust me in my story of how it went down, because at the end of the day it was my mistake for trusting in someone to write with pure intentions when I didn’t know if she could. im trying to continue on with my best foot forward and im grateful for those of you who trusted in me. I swear I will never push myself again, and that I will instead take my time in order to publish my original work and only my original work and not take anything that comes from a “friend”. know that I love you all, and I dont know how to take it easy so my break lasted a whooping 10 hours, and my blog won’t discontinue until im done with bnha or...I get into medschool which is still 3 years away, I am taking care of myself, im staying hydrated, im trying not to put myself down anymore, I will keep going, & will forever continue to be more careful with what I post. also, no one was really coming for me, so don’t worry if you thought so lol. (to you 9 anons who expressed their kind thoughts to me, thank you. to big dick kiri anon thank you. to @bqkubabey​, @flayvus​, & @ultimate-shit-poster​ thank you so so much you really helped me not drown myself in my own guilt.)

anon said: i hope you’re feeling okay today :((

I am feeling a lot better. unfortuantely I did make myself really sick yesterday because ive never been as stressed in my life ever, but im okay now. there’s nothing I can do more for what happened so I will try to continue on as best as I can and I appreciate you caring... ilysm :)

@ikinabi​ said: Your writing??? Actually god sent 🥵👌 and the way you write Mirio gets me GOING

BAHAHAH NOOOOO ITS NOT PLAFUAOGHJIPRAHAR MY MIRIO PIECE YOU LIKED WAS MY FIRST PIECE ON HIM AND OOO BOY I DID NOT DO HIM JUSTICE

anon said: fuck buddy iida is a thought that has never crossed my mind but now that i’ve seen your post i am intrigued haha

well... it is up :) if you wanna check her out :)

anon said: You dont have to answer if you dont wanna but i just wanna see if your okay. I hope your end your doing well and not stressing.

i’m doing much better than I was yesterday!!! I just needed to rest and calm down and stop attacking myself. thank you for checking in!!! it means so much :,)

[mrsren]

Draco/Hermione/Theo Sneak Peek.

Hi, this is just a glimpse at the start of a new project. And for those reading this, I cranked out 500 words of Red Herring last night, and I’m hoping to finish it tomorrow. I haven’t forgotten! This story probably won’t see the internet until February/March since I just have a lot to get off my plate first. 

I have no summary to give you currently. But this is a brief sypnopsis: Seven years after the end of the war, Hermione, Ron, and Harry are all struck ill by a mysterious curse cast by Voldemort before his own demise. There is seemingly no cure, but when Hermione returns to Hogwarts as a temporary librarian, she finds that the cure may not be a potion, or spell, but rather a person. Or in this case, two persons. 

Tags/Warnings: Slash Sexual Content, Explicit Sexual Content, Some Angst, Co-Workers. 

This is not edited so please forgive any errors. Let me know what you think either here or in my ask box!

This was sent to me as an anonymous request. If the requester is reading this, you know who you are. Thanks, I love this. 

Seven. 

It started with the number seven. It had followed Harry for years, in the form of his quidditch number, in the form of what society called the most magical number, and eventually, it had clung to her. Burrowed itself into her clothes while they trekked through the Forest of Dean, sunk into her skin as she writhed on the floor of an ancient house that spat on her, and it had nested itself into her bones during on the second of May, nineteen-ninety-seven. 

Hermione looked from the street, teeming with crowds as the younger inhabitants of the world prepared for another term. Adults were run ragged, lines sunken into their faces as their rambunctious children wore them out one last time before the first of September arrived. Her birthday was in September, she thought idly as she traced her initials in the condensation of the window pane. 

It might be her last one. 

Tucking a hand beneath her chin, Hermione leaned against the glass, feeling the coolness of it spread across her cheek. Grimmauld Place was never warm despite her efforts at warming charms. As the summer had crawled past them, each and every spell had begun to have less of an effect. Pulling her knees closer to her chest, her jumper slipped from her shoulders as she shifted. In the reflection, she saw how her collarbones protruded, and tore her gaze away. 

Downstairs, Harry and Ron busied themselves with wizard’s chest. She knew because they had invited her, albeit with looks of pity, when she returned home from Flourish and Blotts. Hermione had given a shake of her head, and a whisper of “No” that neither of them heard. Ron had called her name, telling her to slow down as she hurried up the steps. 

Seventeen steps, she’d counted several times over the summer. Even still, that number haunted her as if it were floating behind her, looming over her like a cloud that she couldn’t escape. By the end of May of that year, she’d lost her breath on the sixteenth step. By the end of June, the fourteenth. By the end of July, it had been thirteenth. August had been the witness of a momentary rush of determination, and it had risen to fifteen. 

Her strength was whittled down to seven steps by the twenty-seventh of August. 

Fate had it out for her, Hermione was certain of that, and there was only one person to blame. However, he was dead, and clearly Voldemort was laughing the last laugh. 

                                                  oOoOoOoOo

Living together with Harry and Ron had never been Hermione’s idea. She owned a flat, decorated just how she liked it, and with as many books as she liked. She owned a telly. She was free to light candles and soak in the bath without worrying about boys cleaning the grout, or stealing up all of the hot water. There was no one to question her comings and goings. Some nights she had dates. As a young, single witch, she was free to do so. As a rising figure in the Department of Magical Creatures, she didn’t need to answer to anyone as to why she came home so late. 

That wasn’t the case with her two friends. 

Hermione tried her best not to feud with them. They were only trying to support her as much as they could, but it was all so stifling. Ron never liked to see her leave Grimmauld without one of them, once spouting, “But what business does a cursed witch have dating anyway?” It had resulted in a well-deserved, light, stinging hex to his non-important bits. “To live her life, Ronald!” 

Five words—at least it wasn’t seven—summed it up nicely. 

She visited Australia after word from St Mungos came, figuring that it would be best to do so before the bulk of her strength left her. Monica and Wendell Wilkins had a daughter. She was a pint sized four year old with an insatiable thirst for mischief. Named Hermione just as her older sister that she would never know, Hermione thought she would be everything the couple hoped for. 

She stopped in other countries, ignoring owls that managed to find her, and left no forwarding address for her Floo. 

While all of this was true, she was only getting off track. It had started in May with a sudden bout of nausea. She brushed it off for a week, thinking little of it until Harry and Ron both began exhibit similar symptoms. Then the vomiting came, waves of fatigue. On a night she stayed late, no one questioned her. They never did, but as midnight neared, one of those waves of fatigue swept over her. 

An intern had found her in the morning: sprawled across the floor, her body shaking with tremors, and foaming at the mouth. 

The bright lights hanging overhead in the St Mungos waiting room had greeted her, and the life she’d gotten used to over the years simply vanished. 

It was a curse, healers said. The good news was that they knew what it was, what it caused. But with good news, there came bad news. Akin to a muggle parasite, dark magic latched to their magical cores, siphoning magic as it grew stronger. It had been triggered by the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, they speculated. Hermione later learned it had been the seventh anniversary, and laughed darkly to herself. 

There was no cure, only delaying the inevitable. 

Harry left the Aurors altogether, and it wasn’t long before Ron was unable to work in the shop. Surrounded by magic, and unable to use it if they wanted to survive long enough to find a cure—which there were no promises—Hermione envisioned it as a special kind of hell. 

Searching for cures made little way for hope when each discovery only limited hope instead of allowing it to flourish. It didn’t matter what book she read, what experts she consulted in other countries, there was simply no way to undo what had been done. 

That wasn’t going to do.

Tensions had been high since May, consistently rising with every day that passed, but it finally boiled over. 

The side effects of the curse are far reaching, and it terrified her more than she would ever admit to either of them. 

[oddcoupler222]

i’m not sure if someone has asked you this before, but how would margaery react to sick!sansa?

I’m not quite sure I’ve been asked either!

Margaery doesn’t respond well to a sick!Sansa. Where Sansa sees a sick Margaery and responds immediately into caretaker mode and is at the ready to soothe bumps and bruises, Margaery is… more intense than that. 

I’ve mentioned in a past post that when one of their daughters gets sick (or anything worse), Margaery goes from 0-10 in .5 seconds. And it’s really the same with Sansa. Especially in the earlier years, because Margaery has never been a caretaker of anyone or “nursed” anyone through being sick. Or… wanted to.

In all honesty, Margaery’s reaction to a sick woman before would be to keep a wiiiide berth because she wouldn’t want to get sick herself and risk needing to waste sick days/not getting work done.

When Sansa gets sick, it’s not often but it is an intense kind of cold. Like a few days of feeling fairly knocked down/like shit, where all she wants to do is sleep. The first time Margaery sees Sansa being sick, it’s because she goes over to her apartment for a dinner date. And realizes that Sansa definitely forgot about it/slept later than she intended for like, a nap, because she is most definitely asleep.

But then she’s confused for a moment, because like… Sansa doesn’t take naps. Ever. Let alone on the couch.

When Sansa wakes up and groans, sounding congested and voice hoarse and scratchy, she apologizes, because she didn’t intend to fall asleep. And, “I meant to text you to cancel dinner.”

Margaery’s eyebrow wings up, “What? Why?”

She hadn’t wanted to, because Margaery was very busy at work lately with a new proposal and they hadn’t seen one another much in the last week or so (this happening a few months after Sansa returned from Volantis). So canceling any time with her isn’t something she wanted to do. But, “I mean, I know you’re so busy lately, and you can’t afford to get sick right now.”

The headache in her temples is killing her, and she drops her head back into her palm with a cough that she covers just in time, and her throat burns afterwards, “And you definitely don’t want to catch this. I feel like death.”

Margaery’s mouth quirks to the side in a frown, and she helps usher Sansa up off the couch to go change into pajamas. But when Sansa changes/washes up and leaves the bathroom, Margaery is… gone.

Which makes her feel mope-y as well as already feeling shitty because of being sick. Even though she was going to cancel on dinner anyway, and she knows her girlfriend can’t get sick right now with how many projects she’s on, but. Still. She doesn’t even have Jeyne around because she’s working a double.

She lays back down in her bed, and dozes, feeling sorry for herself. She doesn’t know how much time passes before she hears a key in the lock and Margaery comes rushing in, her arms full of… stuff.

Sansa’s bleary eyes widen at it all, and Margaery starts arranging the tissues and medications on her bedside table.

“I’m not sure what you like or what works the best for you. But I got this for a sore throat, and this for congestion, and this for fever, and two kinds of this for a cough. I read online that those help you sleep and can clear your sinuses and they had high reviews, so… hopefully it works.”

Sansa is feeling… all sorts of things and they all feel jumbled with her being sick, and, “Is that a pillow?”

Margaery frowns at the pillow in question that she has placed on the bed, before fluffing it, “Yes, the last time Renly had a sinus infection, he swore by this inclined memory foam pillow. I thought you might want one.” She narrows her eyes at it, “I don’t know how comfortable it’ll be. Maybe you should just relax with it with your soup and we’ll take it from there.”

“My soup?” Sansa’s eyebrows lift, “You’re cooking?”

“Please, I don’t want you to get more sick. The deli down the street is delivering it in half an hour,” Margaery neatly arranges everything on the table, before she quickly, efficiently, opens the new thermometer.

Sansa opens her mouth dutifully for it without even thinking, before Margaery’s words catch up to her, “They don’t deliver.”

“They do when my girlfriend is sick,” Margaery murmurs, taking on that tone that is just this side of powerful/arrogant, in a thrilling way. She takes the thermometer out when it beeps and frowns again, “101.4… that seems high.” Honey brown eyes stare at Sansa in concern before she reaches out her hand and smooths it over her burning forehead, “Maybe I should bring you to the hospital.”

Margaery’s hand on her feels like absolute heaven, cool and dry, and Sansa leans into it, unable to keep her eyes open for the first few seconds, even as she lets out a gravelly laugh, “I don’t need a hospital for a little cold. I promise.”

She forces her eyes open again, feeling this overwhelming feeling of love course through her at Margaery’s attention and concern. The lamp in her room reflects around Margaery like a halo, and she almost wants to cry with it.

“Darling, what is it? Why are you looking at me like that? Are you sure you don’t need a doctor?” She steps closer, running her thumb gently down Sansa’s warm cheek. Gods, she doesn’t like the unhealthy pallor in these cheeks that are normally so rosy and vibrant.

She doesn’t like the almost hazy look in normally sharp blue eyes. She hates the way Sansa cringes every time she lets out a little cough, reflecting the way her throat sounds like it’s on fire. She hates seeing Sansa at anything less than 100% and all she can think of are all of the many, many illnesses that came up when she’d looked up different remedies for illness on her phone on the way to the closest store. People died from the flu every year, even, and… it was more than a little alarming for her.

“I don’t need a doctor. I just… love you,” Sansa settles on, her voice even huskier and deeper than is typical, with her cold. She moves forward, sitting on the ends of her bed, and rests her head against Margaery’s stomach for just a moment, closing her eyes again.

And relishes in the feeling of Margaery’s hands stroking through her hair for a few moments, before she makes herself pull back, “No. No, you should go before you get sick, too.”

“Go?” Margaery is incredulous, “I’m not leaving you like this.” Not in any circumstance, let alone the fact that Jeyne wasn’t even there to keep an eye on her.

She doesn’t leave for the rest of the night. And almost gets no sleep, constantly waking to keep an eye on Sansa.

-

She gets less intense, slightly, as the years go on, mostly because Sansa is insistent that she is fine when she’s sick (especially because Margaery doesn’t even want her to get out of bed when she’s under the weather). But she never does well when Sansa is anything less than A-okay.

[dracoyoflam]

HDTH Chapter 10: Death Eater?

He tried to get up the stairs to the girls dormitories but even though Hogwarts was a partially-demolished wreck, some of the magic was still there and still functioned; the stairs vanished from beneath his feet and making him fall flat on his face to slide back to the common room. After feeling the small carpet burns on his nose, chin and palms he decided that there was no way that he was going to get up the stairs-cum-slide; he wasn’t going to attempt again once the slide metamorphosised into innocent-looking stairs.

Defeated by the architecture, he walked over to the bed that he had slept on and realized that Hermione must have come back to sleep after he dozed off. He didn’t realize earlier, too much had occurred as he wore for him to pay attention to anything but his own agony and confusion. He lay back on the bed, his hands behind his head as he thought; he liked the thought of her sleeping next to him – odd, he’d never shared a bed with anyone before, he’d never shared much to be honest. Though, he’d happily shared a bed with Hermione Granger, Mudblood, know-it-all, pain-in-his-arse… …A vixen who wasn’t the innocent princess she was painted to be; a passionate witch who’d walked away naked to prove a point. He turned his head into the pillow, breathed in her scent and sighed in misery. He could smell the sweetness of her body on the linens, he had the visions in his mind of their explorations. He longed for her to come back and forgive him for the things he said; and preferably for her to let him prove his forgiveness with a nice bout of make-up sex. ‘Why am I so mad about her?’ he thought, barely vocalising the words in his mind before something else shot through his head; the pleasant and erotic images was violently torn from his imagination and replaced with more pain wrenching visions. They didn’t cease, they continued on and on, running into each other with no break or pause. He screamed in pain, his throat raw with the agony of being trapped within his own psyche; but at the same as trying to escape a living nightmare, he was vainly trying to focus on what he was seeing. It was as if he was flying on a broom but faster than he could possibly ever achieve; there were blurring lands and lands of different places, deserts and oceans, mountains and meadows, cities and forests; then finally there was darkness. Everything was dark and the pain surprisingly became even worse; Draco hadn’t thought there was anything more excruciating than what had already been before – he hated that he’d been proved wrong on that front. There was a small dark building and he got closer and closer, the speed of motion slowing down to a halt. He heard laughing; the same laughing that was in his last vision, the door opened and the dark figure flew at him, Draco blinked, trying to focus on the shape; fighting the agony, he opened his eyes to get one good look at the form… … The form had peachy skin, bronze eyes spilling with tears, framed by a riot of birds’-nest curls. In panic he looked about the tattered Gryffindor common room, there was no darkness, no figure, no laughing. A wave of nausea overcame him in his confusion, and Hermione barely managed to hand him the empty log bucket from next to the fire before he wretched. Her presence left him for a moment, and he instantly slipped into a deeper panic, gasping for breath and shaking. She returned, laying him into the recovery position on the bed, she pressed a cold cloth to his forehead and simultaneously wiped his face with a warm, sandalwood-scented flannel. She held his hand tightly, making little cooing noises that would only make sense to an infant. He continued to shake, suddenly as cold as if he’d stepped into the centre of a glacier. Hermione climbed in behind him, spooning against his back to offer comfort and warmth. “Oh Draco, I’m sorry about earlier, you just made me so angry! But I should have been here for you, not sulking! What happened? What’s wrong? I know something is going on! Tell me and I can help you. Please tell me. Please?" Draco turned onto his back, she’d cared for him! She was cuddling him, and suddenly she was the only thing in the entire world that mattered, the centre of his universe! She’d seen him vomit and come back to clean him up afterwards! ‘Oh Merlin! She’s seen me throw up!’ he groaned and turned away, mortified. She turned him back over, leaning over his chest and staring directly into storm-grey eyes. “Draco, please! Talk to me! What’s going on! And don’t you dare say nothing – because nothing doesn’t make you scream and shake! Nothing doesn’t make you ill! Please? What is it? Please!” she begged him. Grey eyes met bronze, the connection lustful. The final please broke his control and he couldn’t handle himself anymore. He was about to pull her in for a kiss, but an invisible foam filled his mouth, fizzing and then dissipating. “I’m not kissing you when you’ve just been sick.” She giggled, trailing the back of her fingers down his cheek before leaning in once more. The kiss was passionate and so deep with lust that they might drown in it. He pulled away from her lips and kissed her throat; Hermione let out a small, breathy, gasping moan of pleasure. Draco started to pull her shirt, slowly inching it over her stomach, it gave a moment of thought. “Draco, what are you doing?” “What” Draco said, “What do you think I’m doing, or should I say about to do. Isn’t it obvious?” It was a wonder he could string the sentence together! He was so aroused! She smirked and kind of laughed at the question, ‘Touché’ she thought. He leaned close to start kissing again. Hermione pushed him away, her three middle fingers over his lips in self defense as she said, “No Draco, you need to talk to me about what is happening to you. What was all of that about?” “Come on Hermione, let me explain later! Look at me Hermione. Come on.” Hermione could hardly believe it. He was right about earlier. “Draco, you know earlier when we had our argument?” He gave her a look to tell her ‘duh stupid’ and he nodded his head to tell her yeas. “Of course you remember. Well anyway, I think you might be right about us being weird. I really didn’t realize it before.” Draco stood up and walked across the room. Hermione continued, “When you have your headache things I’m always taking care of you and we get closer. Maybe someone is doing this to keep up together so we can find him or her. Maybe a teacher or someone found away to use magic to keep up working together so we can find them and help them." Draco just stared at her wanting to kiss her more and more. “Hermione, can we please talk about this later, I REALLY want you right now; I promise we’ll talk and discuss and debate as much as you like... LATER” he took a steadying breath and whispered, “Please, I want to feel something other than pain.” Hermione walked over to Draco, stood on her tip toes and gently brushed her lips against his in a featherlight tough. The hesitant, tender touches soon became very passionate they slowly moved over the side of the room next to a long desk that was against the wall. Hermione backed into the wall and pulled Draco against her. Draco grabbed her hand and placed it on his crotch. “You see what you do to me, feel what you do to me.” Hermione wrapped her hand around him and squeezed. Draco moaned and pulled her shirt over her head, leaving Hermione standing in only her knickers. She hadn’t put her pants on since yesterday when she took them off, they were dirty and she preferred the long T anyway. It wasn’t as if anybody else would see her. Hermione didn’t like grabbing his hard length through the material; she remedied the situation by unbuttoning his pants, pulling down the zip and yanking his trousers down his firm legs. Draco stepped out of them and yanked his shirt over his head so both of them were standing there in their under garments. Draco pushed himself against Hermione and she lifted her left leg up to wrap it around his hip. Draco didn’t like the standing position very much so he grabbed Hermione under her bottom and lifted her higher on himself; Hermione automatically wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and Draco pressed her into the wall. He moved over to the desk and sat her on top of it so he could get a good look at her breasts, pulling away from her lips to bend down and pull an already hard nipple into his mouth. He lightly sucked and nipped at the bud with his teeth, while Hermione had her head hung back moaning in pleasure. Draco grabbed her panties and ripped them as he tried to pull them off. He looked at the scraps with confusion for an instant before he shrugged and threw the pieces onto the floor and quickly pulled his boxers off. He placed himself at the opening of her wetness. They were staring into each other’s eyes as Hermione reached down and grabbed his length. She pulled him a little towards her opening but Draco stopped her for a moment before he finally plunged himself into her. Hermione kissed him at that exact moment and they both moaned into each other’s mouth. Draco started moving in and out of her slowly at first as he whispered to her. “Bloody hell. “ He paused for a short moment as he thrust into her once more. “You’re so tight, so wet, so hot. Like a fist! Like hot silk!” Hermione smiled slightly and loved the dirty words coming from his delicious mouth. Draco gradually quickened the pace and Hermione wrapped her arms about Draco’s neck to stable herself, her back arched and her head thrown back as she moaned in pleasure. Draco grabbed her hips with both of his hands and pulled her against him every time he plunged into her, deepening each thrust plunging in as far as was possible, as if he could possibly thrust even more of himself into her. The pace quickened, they ground their bodies into each other, both on the edge and desperate to fall into a joint oblivion. Draco was trying to wait until she came first wanting to see the same look in her eyes, just as when she came last night. Hermione was screaming, she could feel herself tightening, the spasms filling her entire being with intense pleasure! She looked into Draco’s beautiful grey eyes, the power and intensity nearly enough to make her finish, but not quite. “Harder… Oh yes… More…” she cried between gasps and screams. Hermione held him tightly in her arms as she felt herself beginning to orgasm. She moaned into his ear. “I’m coming, come with me Draco.” He loved how his name just rolled off of her tongue and mixed with a moan from her lips; it was like an artist blending colours – a beautiful sound that was definitely enough to drive him over the edge. He spilled into Hermione as they both orgasmed together. They clung to each other for a while, gasping, sighing, trying to catch their breaths and waiting for their heart rates to slow. Draco finally pulled himself out of her, moaning at the wonderful sensation of the ‘indecent feeling’ of his seed slipping from her body and trailing down his length as he softened. He dropped her feet to the ground before he lifted her bridal style to carry her to the bed. Hermione smiled up at him; her ‘inner Disney Princess’ purring at the sensation of being carried off into the sunset; her ‘inner Gryffindor lioness’ was disgusted with the lack of bravery and her not standing on her own two feet. Hermione wasn’t listening to the lioness as she rested her head on Draco’s shoulder as he covered them with the covers. They were both in complete silence for what seemed like hours. Finally Hermione looked down at his abdomen and said, “Draco will you please explain to me what’s wrong. I can tell that something has been bothering you. Just tell me and I can help…” “I know I said I’d talk all you wanted afterwards, but can we back in the afterglow for just a little bit longer?” he sighed, “It’s not that I don’t think I can tell you or even that I don’t want your help. In fact the problem is that you can help and I really don’t want you to.” Hermione’s head shot up, the blissful expression of a pos-orgasmic witch was replaced with a puzzled look; and suddenly she gave him a different face that told him to explain further – or else. “Hermione, the headaches I have… “He paused in between words to think about what to say. “I see things… I don’t know why… it means something… I think.” Hermione could tell that he didn’t fully understand what was going on, she calmed down and told him to take his time to try and explain what he could. He thought about what he was saying and tried to piece it all together. “It could be a teacher.” He told her. Hermione still didn’t understand. She thought of herself as pretty smart but Draco was really starting to make her wonder if she was right about herself. She felt so stupid just laying there listening to him try to explain over and over again. “Hermione, I think that the things I see mean something. I think they’re clues to where everyone is being kept and I’m pretty sure that I know where to find them.” “How would you know, what did you see? Did you see Harry and Ron? Are they alright?” Draco winced at their names. He hated Potty and Weasel no matter how much he liked Hermione, perhaps even loved her. ‘No.’ He thought, ‘Malfoy’s don’t fall in love. We do what we need to and have what we want from who we want. Hermione is just a bit more than that. Yes, that’s all.’ “Hermione I didn’t see anybody, not really. I just saw how to get there. I think I’ve been there before actually. I’m pretty sure it’s where my Father runs deals and business with all his death eater chums. What, don’t look at me like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I know that you knew my Father is a death eater.” “Yeah” She said, “But I never expected you to admit it to anyone, aren’t you afraid I’ll say something?” Hermione smirked at Draco and stared at him with her big brown eyes. She wasn’t surprised when Draco looked right back at her with a smirk on his face as well. “Well no, not really. Especially since there’s no one you could tell, no one is here remember.” Hermione sat up and stared out of the broken window for a moment before turning towards Draco to ask him a question. “Uh, Draco.” He sat up and looked at her waiting to hear what she was about to say to him. “Well umm, I was wondering. Well your Father is a death eater and all of his friends. Well, your friends are too really; well what I’m trying to ask really is…” “Hermione if you say well one more time I think you’ll hit a new all time record. Just ask.” She kind of gave a little laugh and sighed, “Are you a death eater or considering being one ever?” Draco stood up and walked across the room, bending down to grab his trousers and quickly pulled them on. “I didn’t mean to offend you, I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer, I shouldn’t have said anything.” She babbled. He turned to face her and in almost a shout he replied, “You know, I hate people trying to force this on me! Everyday my Father is asking me… ‘how about today or how about right now. It only hurts for a moment and then the pain goes away. Come on it’s a chance of a lifetime’, he says to me. Well I’m bloody tired of it!” Hermione was almost scared now and definitely wished that she hadn’t said anything. Sometimes her curiosity got the better of her, and at times like that she paid for some of the things she said. “Draco I’m sorry. Just forget that I ever said anything.” She barely got the words out of her mouth. “Hermione you don’t get it. It’s not really my choice if I want to be what my Father is. He’s pushing me in his direction every single day. He’s been pushing me since I was out of nappies! Well let me tell you something missy, the pain doesn’t go away like he says it will. I know firsthand! He might not feel it anymore but the people around him do, my Mother and me. Merlin! I would never want to put the people that I cared about through all the shit and torment that he has put us through!” Hermione had silent tears falling down her face equally sad for him and terrified of the way he was acting. She just wanted him to stop yelling and let her comfort him. She stood up and walked over to where Draco was pacing the floor in anger, stomping steps that might just transfer the force of his anger into the floor. “Draco… ahh!” Before she knew what had happened, Hermione was on the floor with her hair across her face and her eyes wide, her mouth was gasping as tears started to roll down her cheeks even more. Draco stood there for a moment to let it sink in. “Hermione, Hermione! Wait! Stop! Please! I…” She stood up fast, grabbing her clothes and ran out of the room with her hand on her now very red and slightly swollen cheek. She ran through the school and up many staircases until she finally got to the astronomy tower. She quickly pulled on her shirt and used her wand to fix her torn panties before pulling them on. She sat down next to an open window and let tears fall down her cheeks. Her cheek stung every time a seemingly boiling tear hit it, but she just couldn’t stop crying. It wasn’t the pain that kept her eyes full of tears, it was the fact that… *** ‘I can’t believe I just hit her. I didn’t mean to. I was so angry and she came up right behind me. I can’t believe this, I have to find her. I hope that she will forgive me.’ Draco kept thinking this over and over again as he started his search for Hermione.

[rosebudmendes]

La Vie Est Belle (Shawn Mendes AU)

Description: She has to take care of her ill father. He has to provide for his younger sister. Just when they think their lives couldn’t get busier, fate intervenes. 

Warnings: terminal illness, anxiety, alcohol

Word count: 2,852

A/N: I had a blast writing this first part! Hopefully will be continuing this as a series, since there are a few unanswered questions lol. Thanks to the lovely @stockholmshawn for being a babe & helping me edit this! Hope you enjoy, let me know your thoughts! 

The smell of floor wax hit you hard in the face. There was an overload of sounds of conversation and clatter, along with insanely bright lights. A strong pain shot through your head and you began to massage your temples. You and your family had just arrived in an airport in Italy and you so desperately needed aspirin and coffee. You hated flying, you always have, but your reason for departure was causing a wretched feeling of discomfort.

“(y/n),” Your father muffled behind you. His airy voice snapped you out whatever trance you were in. You turned around and saw his frail body hunched over his walker, carry-on bags resting next to him. You didn’t need him to tell you he needed help.

“Sorry Pops, I got the bags.” You rushed over and picked up all three carry on suitcases. This trip was definitely going to be difficult. Your family spontaneously decided to go to Italy, recommended by your dad’s physical therapist.

Ever since you were 10, your father has been sick. In the beginning, things were progressing slowly, and you hardly noticed any change in his health. But, the disease has become more aggressive over time and your family was desperate for a cure.

“Guys, can you please walk faster! We are going to miss the short Starbucks line!” Your mother whined from ahead. You just rolled your eyes at her and continued helping your father. You were dreading this entire trip, not only because it was difficult seeing your father in such a fragile state but because you will be stuck in a resort with your mom and her favorite companion, scotch.

Once you guys made it to the Starbucks, you helped your father sit down and rest at the table nearby. “Do you want a coffee, Pops?” You always asked him if he wanted coffee, even though his doctors recommend staying away from it. His body didn’t react well to the caffeine anymore, but you know coffee is an indulgence so you offer it anyway.

“Your father doesn’t need any coffee. I will take a grande toffee latte with extra foam.” You didn’t even have to make eye contact with her and you could feel your blood pressure rise. It was clear as day that she was only on this trip for the bragging rights. She never tried to help you care for your father, rather she complained about how hard life was to her friends.

Another trip to Europe with my loving family.

As you turned around you were almost run over by some guy sprinting into the kiosk. Saved by a millisecond, the guy quickly apologized without even looking back. Another country filled with careless people, you thought.

Fifteen minutes later you returned to the table with three drinks in your hand. You set your mom’s obnoxious order in front of her, not saying a word. You put a straw in a cup of water and suggested your dad drink some. You three sat at the table, not saying a word to each other. These last few months the only conversations that took place were about your father's health and the finances of it all. It wasn’t that you guys were necessarily poor, but after your dad had to leave his job it has been more difficult to make ends meet. Thankfully, this trip was covered by donations and charity from your hometown. Although you would never admit it to anyone, you were glad you lived in such a small town. Everyone knew everyone and was always willing to help out. The night people found out about the severity of his illness, the town practically broke. Granted, your father was a well-known businessman with many connections. Still, it would have been near impossible to get the medical assistant needed if you lived in a big city.

After you three felt well caffeinated and were used to the environment, you headed out of the airport and into the streets of Italy. You held the door open for your father, and something caught your eye. A wallet. How could someone be careless enough to lose their wallet, in an airport? Nonetheless, you picked up the wallet and put it in your purse. You felt it was a better idea than leaving it up to the universe for the owner to find it.

When you finally arrived at your resort, you firstly helped your dad settle in. These days it was hard for him to partake in daily activities without being completely exhausted. Walking from the Uber to the room was enough to give him a splitting headache and knee pain. You left him in his room to rest, not worried about unloading his bags quite yet. You didn’t pay much attention when you heard your maternity leave to go get some groceries. It kind surprised you that she’d offer to help out, but then remembered you always forget her alcohol.

Now that you were basically alone you laid down on the bed, put your headphones in and put on a calming meditation guide you use to calm your nerves. You’ve been using this meditation guide for three months now, and have noticed a small change in your irrational outbursts of anger. You were insecure about your anger management issues, and not very many people stuck around long enough to really see how it affects you.

After you were relaxed and felt at peace you reached in your purse to find the abandoned wallet. The smart move would be to turn it into the police, but you were nosy and wanted to know who was clumsy enough to drop their wallet without noticing.

Inside was the typical components; driver’s license, debit card, cash. There was something unique about this particular wallet, though. Hidden behind the driver's license was a folded up piece of paper. When you untangled it and smoothed out the harsh creases, it read “Pick up Shelia, drop off package.” There was definitely a story behind this small to-do list, and you might not ever find out.

Picking up your laptop, you searched the address that was written on the driver's license. It showed the destination was a 15-minute walk downtown. How convenient. There was a good possibility the address was wrong but no harm done trying, you thought.

Seeming as the jet lag was finally catching up to you, and you had a feeling you weren’t going to sleep well you decided to take a quick walk to deliver the wallet.

When you walked outside, the sun was setting and the air seemed soft and light. There were couples and families slowly strolling nearby, and the sounds of tourists exclaiming excitement towards the sunset filled around you. The smell of baked goods and beer was a strong, pungent combination. You pulled up the address once more on your phone and followed the directions precisely, fearful of getting lost in a foreign city.

Around 20 minutes later you arrived at the house. It was a small light blue cottage with a porch swing and flower baskets hanging off the deck. It was almost dark now, and you expected the light to be on but there was a faint light coming from one window. This worried you.

You approached the door and suddenly remembered how little French you knew. This was going to be a disaster if the owner didn’t know English. You knocked a few times and after a few seconds, a young girl answered the door. She didn’t greet you, and you were left unaware of the language that was to be spoken.

“Hello, I found this wallet- uh, it belongs to a Shawn,” You began. The little girl nodded as though she understood and slammed the door in your face. Confused, you stepped back and waited for a few moments. Behind the door, you could hear muffled talking and distant TV.

“Hello?” The door opened again and a tall, broad man appeared. He looked about your age.

“Hi, uh I think this is your wallet.” You stuck your hand out with the wallet and hoped he would be relieved to have his belongings back.

“Oh, thanks. Anything else?” He grabbed his wallet and stuck it in his back pocket. You had just noticed his face in full detail as the street lights had just censored on. His eyes were swollen and almost bloodshot red. Almost as if he hadn’t had a proper nights sleep in weeks.

“No, that's it.” You wanted to know about the piece of paper but didn’t dare acknowledge the fact that you went snooping through a stranger's wallet.

“Well, thanks for returning it to me.” He shuffled his hands around and grabbed a spare bill in his front pocket. “For the fare back-“

“Oh, no I walked here. I’m just staying a few blocks back.”

“Are you from America?” He asked, putting the money back in his pants.

“Yeah…I’m here for a few months.” You responded. Great, now a complete stranger knows your whereabouts.

“Well, maybe I could take you out for dinner one night.” His cheeks flushed with red, and he kept looking down. “I don’t meet many kind Americans here.”

“Oh, yeah sure.” You were unsettled with accepting this offer with too much enthusiasm. You grew up very aware of the dangers that came with talking to strangers. Although you were 20 now the horror stories still replayed in your mind. He handed you his phone, and you typed in your number. This was stupid, you were being so irresponsible. You shouldn’t even have walked here in the first place. There was no denying how attractive he was, and it could be fun for you to get out of the caregiver mindset, and actually experience life as a 20-year-old.

“Actually, are you free right now?” His words felt as if they just fell out of his mouth. “I could take you to this Diner close by if you want.” He said with a slight feeling of uncertainty.

You have never been the spontaneous type, you actually find joy in the planning. There was a small part of you that wanted to say yes though. To forget about your anxious thoughts, forget about all the "what if’s.” You hadn’t been on a date since your dad’s health had taken a turn for the worse, and you knew he felt guilty for being responsible for that. Even though that was only partly true.

“I’m free! I’d love to go with you!” You added a little extra excitement this time. Fake it 'till ya make it right? Immediately following your response you felt guilt settling deep in your stomach. Twisting and turning your stomach, almost causing a pain. Breathe. In and out. You replayed your meditation guide through your mind as Shawn went inside to grab a jacket. It wasn’t necessarily cold outside but as the night grew so did a slight breeze.

“Ready?” He shut the door while simultaneously straightening his jean jacket. He looked effortlessly handsome while all the while radiating exhaustion and fatigue. His dark pants hugged his thighs in a snug manner, followed with dark converse high tops. His light washed jean jacket was nicely paired with a loose white t-shirt. His casual stance and outfit made you relax a tad bit more. You were in Italy after all, might as well make some memories while you can.

You both walked side by side to the diner that was just down the street and across a small bridge. This was the first moment you noticed how beautiful the city was. The houses were built with humble accents of classical designs and neutral toned pastels. The conversations that filled the atmosphere around you were nothing but soft white noise, seemingly they were in French. Shawn filled the silence with normal small talk about the sunset and weather, nothing too personal too quick. The walk over was quick enough that you hadn’t much time to think about the horrible outcomes if he wasn’t as trustworthy as you suspected.

You continued to follow behind Shawn’s lead, being careful not to walk too close to him. Oddly enough, you weren’t afraid of being close to his physical presence. He smelt of vanilla and a familiar cologne, maybe old spice like your father used. It reminded you of happy memories at home and it was drawing you towards him more and more each step.

“Ladies first,” His voice was deep and grounding. He motioned to the small booth that the kind worker had set. You slid in and tried to release any tension that was being held in your shoulders.

“I found this place by accident, came in to get change for the bus.” He looked around and noticed you follow. “The food’s not the greatest, but they serve the best coffee in a five-mile radius.” He let out a minimal chuckle, which sent shivers running up your spine. He really was handsome. “Plus, not much can beat this view.” Both of you looked out the window onto the streets. Across the street, there was a guy selling flowers out of a mobile cart, and a body of water was barely visible enough to see the reflection of the sky. The sun was mostly gone now, only a sliver of a dome still appeared.

The waitress came around, and you both ordered a cup of coffee with a slice of pizza. When the pizza came you internally groaned. Shawn was right. For an Italian Diner, their pizza looked surprisingly abysmal.

“I sure hope the coffee tastes better than this pizza looks.” You blurted out. He chuffed and took a large bite off of his slice. You took a sip of the coffee, hesitate to burn your lips. “So, Shawn,” The coffee stung a little when it touched your lips. He looked up from his pizza, mouth shiny from the massive amount of grease that settled into the cheese. “I can only assume you didn’t grow up in Italy, your English is impeccable.”

He coughed and took a napkin to his face. “Uh, yeah. I grew up in Chicago. Moved here when I was 12.” His statement was rushed and choppy. This left you to believe there was something to that story that he didn’t feel appropriate to share over the first cup of coffee. “What brings you to Italy?” He quickly changed the subject back onto you. “Here for some sightseeing and culture shock?” The tone of his voice sounded almost jock-like.

You didn’t focus on it too much and looked out the window. You focused on your reflection and felt tears prick at your eyes. “I’m actually here with my family.”

“Like a vacation?” He questioned.

“Not exactly,” Your throat choked up. Your gaze was still focused out the window. You didn’t dare make eye contact with him, that is a for sure way to make you cry.

You still struggled to talk about your dad illness with people. They just didn’t understand. People always try to make you feel better with the casual “praying for you” and “I’m here for you” responses. None of it mattered. None of it helped. It wasn’t a magical cure for his sickness. He was still ill. And you were still hurt. The thought of your father dying, leaving you alone with your mother was haunting to dwell on too much.

“Hey, it's alright I don’t need to know.” Shawn softly uttered. He reached across the table and grabbed your hands that were resting next to the coffee cup. He didn’t follow up with any more questions, and just silently went on with his coffee. “Besides, I work most days so you’ll probably never see me again.” He pulled his hand back to his side, and you immediately missed his touch. You made eye contact again and for the first time in a long time, you felt heard and accepted. He as a stranger, you met not even two hours ago and yet you ached for him to stay with you forever.

“How come you work so much?” You wanted to know more but didn’t want to pry.

“Short answer, I need the money for bills.” He was quick with his answer.

“Long answer?”

“Well, that sounds like a second date topic.” His cheeks flushed with bright pink. His soft voice was sensual, although you didn’t get the feeling he meant it.

You smiled and pushed your hair behind your ear. “Well, if you work so much how is a second date going to happen?”

“Guess that’s up to fate to decide.” He smirked.

The tension was intense, and you hated that. You could easily come back with a snarky comment to turn him off quickly, but instead, you said nothing. For once you didn’t want to know what the future held. You were perfectly comfortable leaving it up to fate. There was something immensely romantic about a mysterious love in a foreign city. If there was any right way to be spontaneous, this was it. This was right.

[sometimesimawriter]

Mirror Effect

part 2

A/N: just to clarify, everyone in this story is 20ish because we do not stan Five being an actual child under the ripe age of 12! Thanks everyone! Have a nice day!

*the next morning; it was a long night for everyone, Christina had patched up Five, and insisted she spend the night on the cot next to him. Kayla and Emma gave Klaus and Diego a tour around the house. It was a rather large Victorian estate, hidden on the outskirts of Hackensack. It seemed like the girls lived here on their own; it was previously owned by one of Christina's distant aunts or cousins or possibly great grandmother- her family was bigger than what anyone could remember. The three lived here for majority of the year, they had finished college a few years ago, and all found jobs in the city. Kayla was a chemical engineer, Emma was a fierce business woman, and Christina spent her nights at clubs and bars, playing gigs, meeting new people, and singing her heart out every Friday and Saturday night.*

The smell of eggs and bacon wafts through the air. There is quiet laughter, Emma and Kayla move around the kitchen. It's a pretty big space, but they keep bumping into each other.

"Bro MOVE" Emma sighs, exasperated in a joking way.

"You keep existing in the wrong space at the wrong time, that's not my fault"

At this time, they hear shuffling coming towards the kitchen. Klaus looks like he had a fight with the mattress and loss. His shirt is unbuttoned completely and he rubs his eyes. Emma glances over at Kayla, who stares at him for a second too long. Then she smiles as he meets her eyes and holds out an empty mug.

"Coffee?"

He gives a lopsided smile. "Only if you put actual coffee in there."

Emma barks out a laugh at this and Kayla poises her arm, acting as if she's going to throw the mug. She then pours a cup and hands it to Klaus, then glances at Emma.

"So Klaus, is your brother awake? or should Emma go wake him instead?"

Emma blushes and flips her off.

Just then, two more pairs of shuffling feet come down the hallway, speaking in hushed voices.

Christina and Five enter the kitchen, Christina's hair is resembling that of a mad scientist, and Five even looks slightly flustered. They both come to a complete stop and look at everyone in the kitchen.

Christina gulps "Oh, um, everyone's awake!"

Her cheeriness is out of character, and Kayla's eyes widen and then she blurts out

"You two FUCKED" Kayla screams

"Oh my god WHAT" Emma throws herself at Christina. "Did you really?"

"Did you use protection? am i going to be an aunt? I can't handle godchildren right now. The responsibility of spoiling your children? I can't do that right now!" Kayla gets in Christina's face.

"She's right. But first of all, did you go doggie style? Cow girl? REVERSE cow girl? No no wait, you had to have put on a strap on. Do you like getting slapped in the face?"

The girls torrent her with questions.

Klaus slithers over to Five and wraps an arm around his shoulder. "so how'd you like it? First time is always the best, at least that's what i heard. I don't remember my first, because well you know-" he makes a smoking gesture at this and raises his eye brows.

"We did NOT FUCK" Christina screams at the girls.

Both fall silent, then Emma breaks the moment.

"You whore you SUCKED HIS DICK!"

At this Christina wails "N O!"

"The stereotypes are true, Jersey girls are loud as hell." Diego says as he shuffles into the room. he is disheveled like Klaus, but looks more peaceful, like the type of disheveled that a surfer boy possesses. Emma retracts from Christina and looks at him. Both Kayla and Christina notice her change in character. Emma has never been one to shy away from men, she loves being straight forward with what she wants. But now, she seems more subdued, maybe cautious or curious. She puts on this sweet smile and asks "want coffee?"

Kayla makes a choking sound, "original..."

Emma turns and stares at her as if she wished her to die in a ditch on the side of a road.

"Sure Ill take some coffee" Diego gives her a smile, one that says he wants to meet up with her sometime during the night.

The group settles down around the kitchen table, which is a metal table on wooden legs. It has some dents, hopefully from kitchen use and nothing that a group of promiscuous girls could have possibly gotten up to after nights of partying and bringing men home. At least, no one was going to address that situation.

The morning was filled with clinking forks and knives, small talk about New York and the Academy, and lots of longing looks. Christina constantly glanced up at Five and quickly looked away, but ironically she missed each time he stole a look at her. Emma stared at Diego, and he looked at her, basically having mental sex across the table. Kayla on the other hand laughed the most at Klaus's stories, times at raves or strange highs he had had. He seemed at ease with her, but also kept reassuring her that he was sober, almost like his sobriety proved he had some type of worth.

Diego was the first to stop engaging in some weird romance that each couple had for each other. "We need to talk about the elephant in the room."

Klaus glanced at Kayla and then smirked, "yeah, i was wondering too. Are they condoms for eye sex? Because i think I may be pregnant from all the eye contact you two are having."

Diego gave him a dull look "anyway... we still need to find this Razor-Max dude. Does he have powers too?"

Five made a face, "His nails grew into witch's talons and he can jump 45 feet in the air. Either he's a super or someone is dedicated to drinking his milk."

Christina snickered at this, and then blushed when everyone turned to her.

Five leaned toward the table and put his elbows up, squaring off with Kayla, "What i want to know is what is your history with him? Why does he want you dead?"

Kayla looked down and Klaus looked genuinely concerned. She took a deep breath and explained "we dated for a year, he was really good to me. I thought I loved him, like i was gonna marry him some day. That changed when i walked into a bar and saw him pinning some blonde against a pool table and practically eating her face with his lips. I got pissed, started a scene, broke things off with him. He's always had anger issues, but i never thought it would get this bad. He started sending flowers and chocolates to my house. Called me every hour of every day. Then his texts and messages got angrier and angrier. One day i looked at the porch and saw there was a fruit basket that had been ripped open by a raccoon. Except the raccoon was foaming at the mouth and seizing up a few feet away from the basket."

Diego looked up, "he tried poisoning you?"

"Seems like it. Got a restraining order, and then murders started happening. He started with girls that looked like me, trying to send a message. Then he got sloppy, killing whoever."

"I thought the NYPD didn't know who was murdering people?" Said Five.

Emma looked down at the table, "Oh no, they know. It would be a suicide mission for their officers to go after him. So they make us do it."

Klaus entered into the conversation, "And now you need backup."

Kayla looked across the table to him, "Yeah that would be nice. You don't need to put yourself in danger though-"

Klaus stood up at this, puffing out his chest sarcastically "There is nothing dangerous enough for me!" He pumped one fist in the air, then lowered his hand, bowing at the waist and took Kayla's hand from the table and softly kissed her knuckles. "I have known you for less than 24 hours and I am already willing to lay down my life for you."

Kayla let out a laugh and Klaus smiled as he sank back down into his seat.

"So how would you take down a literal man-animal hybrid? My knives barely did anything, its like his skin is its own armor." Diego glanced back at Emma.

Emma then perked up at this. "well actually, Kayla has been working on a type of- what did you call it?- narcotic?"

"DRUGS?" Klaus made a voice similar to that vine of the owl trying to sell drugs.

Kayla laughed again, "yeah i guess, just a little nighty-night syrup so we could have a chance against him. Dude's a damn monster though, so I don't exactly know what would work on him."

Klaus lightly touched her hand, "I'm sure you'll find something. I have a past with...chemical engineering... kind of. I can help!" She smiled again at him and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

Christina spoke up "Five, i need to recheck your bandages. Emma, maybe you and Diego can go back to the brownstones and see if he left any tracks and find where he's been hiding out. Kayla you can go back to your lab, maybe show Klaus around." Christina winked at her, and then both her and Five left the kitchen, back to the small infirmary where they both had spent the night.

[artemisegeria]

Love by Design (Chapter 6/?)

Title: Love by Design (Chapter 6/?)

Rating: T

Word count: 3130

Warnings: None for this chapter.  

Summary: Vision makes elaborate foam art as a barista at the coffee shop that his brother owns. One day a new customer comes in, and he completely loses his cool. As she keeps coming back, they grow closer. A casual acquaintance becomes something much more.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16272371

Chapter 1  | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 |

Vision prepared Wanda’s latte to go, so that it was ready when she arrived. She was in the middle of the end of school year rush and had barely had a chance to say hello most mornings during the past couple of weeks. She came in a few minutes later, looking harried.

“Hey, Vizh. Is that mine?” She pointed at the waiting cup. “Thanks so much.”

“It is.”

She removed some money to pay, but then added, looking at the display case as he hoped she would, “Could I get a croissant, too?”

“Of course.” He ducked down to reach for it and placed it in a paper bag for her. Smiling at his success in encouraging her to have more for breakfast than a cup of coffee, he gave her the new total and the bag.

She took a sip from her cup and put it down, lingering as she carefully replaced her change in her wallet. “Did you hear back from the conference yet?”

“Not yet,” Vision replied regretfully. Every day that passed made him more convinced that his proposal had not been accepted. His advisor had told him through several emails that this was not unusual, but he could not shake the feeling. Wanda sensed his mood and placed her hand over his where it rested on the counter, smiling softly at him.

“Hopefully soon then. Sorry I can’t stay.”

“I am as well, but it’s perfectly alright, Wanda.” He hoped that his smile was sufficiently reassuring and hid the ache he was feeling at her absence in his life. “I know you have been busy.” Vision turned over the hand that was still underneath hers, clasping it back.  

“I won’t be around tomorrow, either. The play is next weekend, and we’re in full rehearsal mode. Some of the kids still don’t have all their lines down.”

“Good luck.”

With a quick wave and a smile, she left the shop, taking the warmth with her and leaving it cold and empty.

***

A week later Wanda hurried into the shop late in the afternoon. “Hi, Vizh.”

A pleased smile appeared on his face, and she couldn’t help but return the gesture, despite the mood she had fallen into all day. “Hello, I wasn’t expecting to see you until after the play was over.”

“I know, but we’re starting a full dress rehearsal in,” she looked down at her watch, “half an hour. I need something to keep me going.” What she did not say was that seeing Vision’s face would keep her going as much as the caffeine. “Could I get just a large black coffee?”

“Right away.” A few minutes later, he handed her a cup and a paper bag. She opened it curiously. Inside was a chocolate chip cookie.

“I didn’t pay for this, Vizh.”

He shrugged. “I hope you don’t mind it’s a little burnt. I wasn’t going to sell it anyway.”

“Oh, thanks.” Seeing his answering grin, she decided she could spare a few more minutes. “By the way, I don’t think I ever officially invited you, but you’re welcome to come see the play tomorrow or Saturday.”

“I would love that, thank you. I am free on Saturday evening.” Visio’s smile grew even wider. They looked directly into each other’s eyes, and she was struck again by how beautiful he was. She couldn’t help smiling back at him.

“I’d love to go, too.” Both Wanda and Vision jumped. She really needed to keep better track of when Ultron was around. Wanda hoped that her face did not betray her displeasure too much as she pasted on an inviting expression.

“The more the merrier.” She glanced at Vision, whose smile now looked equally forced. She was saved by the time. “I’ll see you both then. Got to get back to rehearsal.”

***

That Saturday morning, Vision had a prior commitment volunteering to clear trash from the local river. While removing bottles, wrappers, and other detritus, Vision struck up a conversation with a fellow volunteer. The woman had shoulder-length curly gray hair and wore a long skirt and clogs. “It’s so nice to see a younger person out doing their part.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” He speared a piece of newspaper and stuffed it in his bag.

“You can call me Marian, sweetheart.”

“Marian. I’m Vision.” She didn’t even react oddly to his name. “I am happy to help out. What do you do when you are not volunteering?”

“I’m a retired nurse. I loved helping people, but I couldn’t wait to get out of the hospital structures. Bloodsuckers. Don’t care at all for people’s pain, just profit.” She looked up at him apologetically. “Sorry, I can’t talk about my former job without getting all riled up.”

“That’s perfectly understandable. It seems to me that if they are not following their primary mission of healing people, the hospitals ought to be made to.” Marian grinned at finding a kindred spirit. They continued their designated section of the riverbank and found they had similar opinions on many societal and political ills.

As they were cleaning up their tools, Marian said, “Are you or any of your friends looking for a condo to rent? I’m moving to be closer to my daughter in a few months, but I don’t want to sell my old place. And I hate using the internet to try to find tenants. I much prefer word of mouth, and I have a good feeling about you.”

“Not that I know of, but I will mention it to them.” They exchanged contact information, and he promised to inform her if he found any leads.

Vision returned to the apartment later that afternoon, contemplating Marian’s offer. He showered and took care to dress for the play in a black button down and dark jeans. Through the open door, he could see Ultron smoothing his hair and applying copious amounts of cologne in front of his bedroom mirror. When he emerged, Vision’s eyes watered. Ultron said, “I think you’re going to develop a sudden bout of stomach flu.”

Vision had a brief, unaccountable wish to tell Ultron that his cologne would cause a stomach flu in anyone, but, of course, he held his tongue. He considered the best response for a moment. This time he was not going to give in to his brother. “No, I won’t. I promised her.” Ultron pursed his lips at Vision’s rare open defiance.

“I will explain it to her.” His voice took on a more threatening tone. “And I’ll give her these for you.” Ultron lifted the small bunch of peonies that Vision had bought for Wanda and carefully arranged in a bouquet.

“No, I am going.” Vision and Ultron stared at each other; Vision’s gaze did not break. He did not try to take the flowers back, but this is something he would not compromise on.

Ultron glowered at him, but he made no attempt to argue further. Though Vision was convinced that he would pay for this another time. “Fine.”

They walked over to the school and got seats near the front. Ultron raised a brow when Vision waved at Steve and his other teacher friends, who were taking up most of the back row of the auditorium. When he flipped through the program, he frowned more deeply. “Why is your name in the ‘Special Thanks’ section?”

Vision had not noticed that. He looked down at his name, and happiness glowed within him at the memories of helping her and getting to know her friends better. “I helped build some of the sets.”

“Still trying to get in her pants the slow way?”

Vision tried not to bristle too much at his brother’s crudeness. “Please do not talk like that. As I have told you, we are friends. I was simply doing her a favor.”

Ultron’s sneer conveyed his deep contempt. “You’ll never get laid with an attitude like that. That’s cuck, beta male thinking.” Vision sighed internally; Ultron needed to get away from those forums he loved to frequent. He was saved from replying by the lights going down in the auditorium. The first half of the play passed fairly quickly. Vision could see what Wanda meant when she said that the students were not the best, but the show was still entertaining. When the intermission began and the lights went up, Ultron groaned, “I hope she appreciates this. I have never heard more incompetent singing.”

Vision refrained from saying that he had not had to come at all. “I think they are all doing a decent job.”

“That’s because you refuse to say anything negative about anyone.” Vision did not bother to defend himself. Eventually the lights were turned back down, and the play resumed. As it approached the dramatic conclusion, Vision lost himself in the story. The dark romance of the possible love triangle felt inherently compelling. He joined the standing ovation of supportive friends and family when the whole cast bowed and presented Wanda with a bouquet on stage.

Several minutes after the end of the show, all the actors and stagehands came out to greet their loved ones. The auditorium began to empty, and Wanda emerged from the side of the stage. She smiled when her eyes settled on Vision, preparing to speak when Ultron shoved the flowers into her face. “Thank you.”

“I picked these out for you. I thought you would like them the most.”

“You were right.” She spoke in Ultron’s direction, but her eyes quickly turned to Vision, and her smile brightened. As Wanda re-focused on Ultron, her voice took on a sardonic tone. “It’s amazing that you managed to pick my favorite flowers. I don’t think I ever mentioned that to you.” Her slight emphasis on the last two words was lost on Ultron, based on his smug grin, but Vision beamed at her from behind his brother at the thought that she remembered the conversation from a few months prior.

“I just knew what you would enjoy.” Vision struggled not to roll his eyes, but he could not be too bothered when her eyes continued to be all for him. “And now that you’ll have more free time, I’d love to take you out to dinner. You’ve already denied me twice. Third times the charm.”

“Thank you for the invitation.” Wanda’s eyes flicked briefly back to Ultron. “But I’m seeing someone.” This was news to Vision. He was not sure where Wanda found the time to meet someone between teaching, the play, and spending time with him. They hadn’t had as much time together lately, with her school commitments and his renewed dissertation work, but it was still a significant amount.

As Ultron turned away, Wanda mouthed “thank you” at him, raising the flowers slightly. He nodded at her. But throughout the walk home Vision was consumed with thoughts of the person she might be seeing. He did not think it was any of their friends. Most of them were already attached, or people she seemed to regard as loving and exasperating siblings.

By the time he reached the safety of his bed and brooding space, Vision was convinced that this was for the best. He had no experience with relationships. We would not know how to give her what she deserved. While increasingly their smiles lingered and lengthened, and he felt a greater urge to ask her on a proper date unambiguously, she had also done nothing concrete to indicate that she favored a more romantic shift in their friendship.

With these morose thoughts coating his mind, he fell into a fitful sleep.

***

“Wanda, do you still want to go dressed up on opening night like we planned?”

“Of course, Vizh! I’ve been looking forward to this movie for months.” She wondered why he was even asking. They’d discussed their costumes and bought tickets a few weeks ahead of time because seats were selling out. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I thought you might want to go with the person you’re seeing.” Vision was doing a very poor job of appearing casual.

She couldn’t help herself. “Oh, Vizh!” she said around a laugh. That explained his unusual stiffness and diffidence over the last couple of weeks. She had thought it was clear that she had no time to form a relationship outside her classes and hobbies and the time spent with him.

“What?” Wanda only laughed harder at his truly bewildered face.

“You believed me when I said that to Ultron?”

Vision ducked his head bashfully. It was adorable. “Well, I thought it was a possibility.”

“I guess, but I just told your brother that because in my experience, men like him won’t give up unless they think they’re intruding on another man’s territory.” She could feel her face screw up in disgust.

Vision shook his head, looking equally dismayed. “I cannot fathom thinking that way, but you understand my brother very well.” She shrugged. Ultron was very transparent; she didn’t consider it a challenge to understand him. But this line of thought did inspire her to ask a question that had been lingering in her mind for some time. “I’ve wondered why he didn’t influence you to think the same way when you were younger.”

He shrugged slightly, the movement neat and precise as all his movements were. “I have considered this much myself. I suppose it is a combination of nature and nurture. I always felt differently from him about a variety of subjects, even before I could truly articulate those differences. He also sought out influences that nourished his worst impulses while I have attempted to cultivate the better angels of my nature.” He seemed embarrassed as the words flowed out of him. Despite the high-flown language, there was a certain matter-of-factness in his tone that did speak of having given this much thought. It was more than he usually said about his upbringing.

Wanda appreciated his honesty, understanding how difficult it could be. “Well, whatever it is, I’m glad you’re who you are,” she rushed to reassure him. Vision smiled gratefully at her.

***

As Vision and Wanda stood in line waiting to be let into the movie theater, they discussed what they thought would happen. The excitement of the crowd was rising in intensity, pushing their own anticipation higher. At least half the people in line were in full costume; others wore various pieces of merchandise from the series. At one point, Wanda held up her phone for them to take a selfie together, moving closer to him so that they would be centered in the frame.

The doors finally opened, and they took their seats. The crowd grew more and more impatient as the previews for upcoming films meandered on. Before the lights dimmed, Wanda showed him a quick post that she had made on her social media account. It was the selfie she had taken with the caption: “@songs_in_scarlet: Excited to see the movie of the year with @whatasight.” In the minute or so since she had posted it, the photo had already received several likes from their friends.

Finally, after twenty or so minutes of previews, the movie started. The entire theater was dead silent. Vision always thought there was nothing to compare to the experience of attending a comic book movie on opening night with a packed house of other fans. Nothing could match how the cheers, gasps, and spontaneous applause of the audience fed off each other, everyone hanging on every moment onscreen. The reactions of the crowd tonight topped any movie he had seen previously. As the credits rolled after the grand finale, the audience sat stock still for several moments before giving a standing ovation.

Wanda and Vision spent the entire ride home excitedly discussing the film and pondering about what would come next. When he pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex, she said, “Thanks for the ride.” She pushed her door open slightly but lingered in the car. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

Vision felt an odd sense of déjà vu. This was starting to remind of him the night they went to the concert and he had impulsively kissed her hand. But this time he fancied that Wanda was looking at him almost expectantly. His mind rebelled at the thought that she might want him to kiss her. “I had a wonderful time as well. As always.” Her smile made his heart beat a little faster.

They remained in the same position, neither moving. Wanda finally climbed from the car. “See you tomorrow morning.”

“Have a good night.” He waited for her to reach the inside of the building before pulling out of the parking lot. Vision had to wonder if he imagined the flicker of disappointment in Wanda’s eyes when she waved at him.

***

Ultron stormed past her without even pausing as she entered the shop in the early afternoon, before symphony practice. She raised an eyebrow at Vision, who had a white-knuckle grip on the counter before shaking his head and wiping a cloth in front of her. “What’s up?”

“Ultron was unhappy that my conference proposal was accepted. He hates when I can’t be here, or dare to defy him.”

Ultron forgotten in the wake of her happiness about Vision’s success, Wanda said, “Congrats!” Vision smiled, but he quickly frowned again. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll get over it.”

Seeing that no one else was currently in the shop, he came around the counter and sat next to her. “Thank you. But this does mean that I’ll be away for a week.”

“Where are you going?” Wanda tried not to dwell on her disappointment that Vision would be away so long. This was a wonderful opportunity for him. It’s not like he would be gone forever, she comforted herself.

“My advisor has been wanting me to go back to work on the final version of my dissertation. Now we also have the conference presentation to polish, so we are going to have a round of intensive edits and mock oral defenses.”

“When do you leave?”

“The week after next.”

“What will I do without you?” She had intended to tease, but she cursed herself when her lip quivered just slightly. Wanda hoped Vision didn’t notice.

He gave her one of his small, lopsided smiles. “Well, we have a spare milk frother to make foam and I can teach to you a few simple designs to use while I’m away.” Despite his teasing words, his eyes were sincere as they looked at her. Wanda nudged his shoulder with her own.

“That’s not really what I meant, Vizh.”

He ducked his head shyly but met her eyes directly. “I know. I will miss you as well.”

[summerseachild]

Because I am a glutton for punishment, I rewatched season 3.

The story so far: For those of you following along, I’ve been gearing up for watching the GoT I haven’t seen (the back half of season 5 and beyond) by rewatching the stuff I HAVE seen. It’s been... an experience. I’m coping with my fury by squeeing over the things I loved and foaming at the mouth over the things I hated. 

The finale aired between my season 2 and 3 rewatch, and I am full of snark, but everything is also hilarious.

3x01

1. GHOST IS THE GOODEST BOY. Also everyone BE NICER TO SAM. Every time I see Kit and Rose together on screen I go, “Awww they’re gonna be married.” So happy this show brought them together.

2. Ciarán Hinds as Mande Rayder was SUCH epic good casting. I want to watch all of Rome now.

3. Davos is a salty old cat with nine lives and I was SO happy to see him alive. And then he RISKS ONE OF THEM being loyal to Stannis. That’s some Ned Stark levels of honor.

4. Michael McElhatton’s voice is so amazingly creepy I love and hate it all at the same time.

5. That first scene we get with Tyrion and Tywin is A LOT. Tyrion just wants a little bit of recognition and it’s SO SAD. (Also how did Tywin have the lions put up in his office so soon? SO EXTRA.) And wtf is up with Tywin intimating that Tyrion might be a bastard? So glad they dropped that. Who ended up Lord of Casterly Rock though? DOes AnYoNE EveN CaRE?

6. Sansa and Shae playing the game with the ships is... so cute. We overly imaginative people have all had that friend like Shae who’s like WHAT IS THE POINT OF PRETENDING.

7. Ok teenage Drogon cooking his food in midair before eating it was pretty cool.

8. Is that the Stranger on the wall of the building where Margaery talks to the orphans? In the middle of the seven pointed star? It looks CREEPY.

9. The epic Queen-off between Margaery and Cersei IS ON. (For the record Cersei’s armor dress is FANTASTIC.) Also, Jack Gleeson saying “charitable” like it’s a word in a foreign language he’s never heard before is GREAT.

10. You can see the seeds of Missandei being a fantastic diplomat for Queen Daenerys. :( Also, I wonder if Jorah knows she speaks Valyrian as he watched all of this unfold...

3x02

1. I wonder if what Talisa says about how Westerosi are viewed across the narrow sea, as barbarians who smell, is accurate. It makes sense...

2. OH SHIT THEON GETTING TORTURED IS IN THIS EPISODE I WAS NOT READY

3. Latest on a List of insults Brienne puts up with from Jaime: “giant towheaded plank.” He is such a shit. And the way he SWITCHES on a dime from so obviously baiting her to being DEAD serious with the “we don’t get to choose who we love” line... so very him.

4. Sansa and the Tyrells! Those gardens are SO incredibly pretty, and Diana Rigg is SO GOOD as Olenna. May I have half her wit when I’m her age. Getting info out of Sansa on Joffrey was SMART.

5. I love that we get a sense that there are different cultures and languages North of the Wall.

6. HOLY SHIT HI MACKENZIE CROOK I FORGOT YOU WERE IN THIS YOU ADORABLE STRING BEAN.

7. Reeeeeds! Jojen and Mira were so exciting when we first met them...

8. BROTHERHOOOOOD Without Banners SO COOL. And underused.

9. Jaime and Brienne are AT A BRIDGE and NOTHING IS OK enjoy the hand while you have it ,Jaime my love.

3x03

1. Lannister family musical chairs is SO GREAT and Tyrion and Cersei have SUCH BITCHY FACES AT EACH OTHER.

2. They tell Chuck Norris jokes about Brynden the Blackfish, don’t they.

3. Stannis: Men have been trying to kill me for years. Me: Well maybe they need to send a WOMAN TO DO IT. (yeeeeaaaaah Brienne)

4. Dany is a woman with a plan and watching Jorah and Ser Barristan freak out about her possibly giving up one of her dragons is kind of funny.

5. I had forgotten how COMMITTED Ramsay is to his “helping Theon” ruse.” Fuuuuuck.

6. Jaime losing his hand DOES NOT GET ANY EASIER TO WATCH.

3x04

1. Jaime Lannister and the No Good Very Bad Deathwish huuuurts meee. It’s so good Brienne was around.

2. Varys and the sorcerer in a box.... SO CREEPY. Do we ever get resolution on that?? Anyway it made me flat out terrified of the implacability of Varys’ revenge at the time, and Conleth Hill PLAYS IT.

3. The Sept is SO PRETTY way to go CGI folks. That whole scene is just GORGEOUS with the light framing Margaery and Joffrey and Cersei moving in and out of shadow...

4. Theon’s “all he had to do was be” re: Robb hit me RIGHT IN THE FEELS also wow show Theon was really Gay For Robb and you will not convince me otherwise. (Watching him pour his heart out to Ramsay makes me physically ill... whYyYYy am I sober...)

5. I still maintain that show Brienne is WAAAAAY meaner than book Brienne about Jaime’s “leave me alone I’m dying” phase in ways that are really out of character and I HATE IT. Also losing a HAND is not “a little bit of misfortune.” And SHE WOULD UNDERSTAND THAT.

6. Cersei being like “I’ve been listening more than your sons” to Tywin. And Tywin being an ASSHOLE in response instead of FUCKING TELLING HER HOW TO DO BETTER with Joffrey makes me so angry.

7. “If Robb Stark falls Sansa Stark is the key to the North” YOU DON’T SAY VARYS

8. I am... sadder than I remember being about Jeor Mormont dying.

9. I. Like. Anguy. What HAPPENED to him? Also Beric is... intense, but I love him. (And Thoros was IN THE KEEP the day the baby Targaryens died?)

10. And ARYA GETTING TO TELL THE TRUTH ABOUT MYCAH TO ADULTS WHO LISTEN YES GOOD.

11. Dany hands that Dragon over COOL AS A CUCUMBER WHAT A QUEEN and theN the reveal that she SPEAKS FLUENT VALYRIAN AND DRACARYS AND I THINK I LOVE HER EVEN MORE OUT OF SPITE THIS TIME

3x05

1. Sandor Clegane trying to CHOP HIS OWN WOODEN SHIELD OFF HIS ARM because it’s on fire... wow. That whole scene is IMPRESSIVE. That was a fight that was TRIGGERY AS FUCK for him with all the fire and he still came out on top.

2. This is the episode where Jon and Jaime both get baths! Jon’s was a lot more fun. He got to have sex first. Jaime’s is preceded by being like “take any more of my arm than you have to and die” to Qyburn and a lot of screaming.

3. I CAN BE YOUR FAMILY ALSHAKDHSAG I AM SO ANGRY ARYA AND GENDRY DON’T END UP IN THE SAME PLACE. IT DIDN’T HAVE TO BE SCHMOOPY IT JUST NEEDED TO BE TOGETHER.

4. Every time I see Catelyn looking empty and far away in these scenes I see the Lady Stoneheart that could have been.

5. ROBB DON’T TRY TO BE YOUR DAD LISTEN TO YOUR MOM AND WIFE AND UNCLE. UGH RICHARD’S ACTING IN THAT EXECUTION SCENE THOUGH IT HURTS ME.

6. Beric Dondarion’s voice is amazing. I’m noticing voices more this time around...

7. Shireen Baratheon! What a precious little Princess! Her friendship with Davos is the best thing ever and SHE DESERVED BETTER.

8. Jaime and Brienne in the bath is funny when Jaime’s a shit until it gets very very serious and everything hurts and both of them are better actors than this show deserved. Jaime remembering URGING AERYS TO SURRENDER PEACEFULLY MAKES WHAT HAPPENS IN THE END HURT. He... hasn’t told that story to many people in its entirety and aaaaahhhh my feelings and him telling Brienne MY NAME IS JAIME I CANNOT WITH THEM.

9. Grey Worm is so handsome, and the more I see of Jacob Anderson in the behind the scenes stuff the more awesome he gets.

10. Ugh Cersei my love don’t be so smug about Tyrion and Sansa (Also Tyrion BRINGING UP TYSHA HOLY SHIT I FORGOT) Cersei and Tyrion both look so miserable at the end of that scene I just want to FUCKING THROTTLE TYWIN. Which is how I felt in the books here so KUDOS TO ALL INVOLVED.

3x06

1. I LOVE that we get to hear the Faith of the Seven’s version of “Jesus loves me” and I love that it’s Sam who sings it.

2. Meera holding Jojen while he has his vision/seizure like she’s done it a thousand times before... so sweet. I love that taking care of those who need it is just... part of who she is, and we need more people who are caring AND badass.

3. I forgot that Arya got an archery lesson from Anguy and I love it.

4. Melisandre being like WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU RAISED BERIC SIX TIMES to Thoros is great. Who knows what any of that means now but in the moment wow. Also WTF I FORGOT THEY GAVE GENDRY TO MELISANDRE

5. Ygritte asking Jon if he’s staring at her ass while climbing is so great. Way to know how good you look, girl!

6. Everyone at Riverrun: GROW UP EDMURE.

7. Jaime Being like BRIENNE DO NOT STAB BOLTON I GOT THIS = friendship goals

8. Cersei and Tyrion talking about their impending miserable marriages and not being entirely awful to each other gives me a bit of joy even as I weep for all of them.

9. I laughed for a long time at Varys line calling the Iron Throne “The Lysa Arryn of chairs.”

10. That last shot of Jon and Ygritte kissing is SO PRETTY. Everything at the top of the wall is, really.

3x07: GET BEHIND ME WENCH DON’T YOU SEE THE BEAR

1. Oh GRRM wrote this one. Cool.

2. Brynden Tully calling Walder Frey a wet shit is delightful. I love him so.

3. Do we ever find out if Talisa was telling the truth about writing to her mother? Or any sort of mention of her again since she’s nobility in Volantis and it might be a thing that she got murdered? No?

4. TORMUND TALKING ABOUT FOREPLAY IS HYSTERICAL HE IS THE BOYFRIEND BRIENNE DESERVES

5. Protective Dragons are Protective

6. Please TAKE OUR SHIP AND OUR GOLD AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF ESSOS: the Yunkai emissary, basically.

7. Poor Gendry. What a way to find out your dad was King Robert... Melisandre has a flair for the dramatic.

8. Jaime is bad at goodbyes especially when Brienne called him Ser Jaime instead of Kingslayer.

9. Ygritte threatening to blacken Jon’s eye if he tears her hypothetical silk dress.. THIS is how you write a badass girl who also likes pretty things.

10. Jaime jumping into that ring and continuing to throw his influence around for Brienne... yes good. He’s lucky that bear didn’t get his FOOT TOO though. And that last “Sorry about the Sapphires” to Locke as he’s leaving.... he just can’t help himself he HAS TO POKE PEOPLE VERBALLY EVEN WHEN IT’S DANGEROUS.

3x08: the One with the Other Other Wedding

1. Travels with Sandor and Arya is such a good show.

2. Davos trying to read is SO CUTE. And Stannis coming to Davos for advice and free him says a lot about a Stannis’ character at this point in the show.

3. Hey! It’s the first Daario!

4. Tyrion tried so hard to be kind. I’m glad he and Sansa seem to end on good terms.

5. Cersei being like “I see how you are trying to be my friend and I want NONE OF IT” to Margaery and then telling the story of house Reyne is a power move.

6. Joffrey moving Tyrion’s step stool at the wedding  was a DICK MOVE but I love the look Tywin gives people who are laughing. (And Tyrion And Sansa making the best of a bad situation and Sansa weakly smiling at him when he makes the the joke about the wine before the ceremony is sweet)

7. NOBODY CARES WHAT YOUR FATHER ONCE TOLD YOU YES CERSEI MY QUEEN 👑

8. Tyrion pretending to be drunker than he was to get him and Sansa out of that room and away from Joffrey and the bedding ceremony is SO SAD but smart.

9. Sam cooing and fussing over that baby is the sweetest thing ever.

10. SAM KILLING THAT WHITE WALKER IS LIKE NEVILLE KILLING NAGINI CHANGE MY MIND WAIT YOU CANNOT HE’S SO BRAVE AND I LOVE HIM

3x09: The Rains of MY TEARS ABOUT THE RED WEDDING

I have a RUM and coke ready to go let’s do this

1. Robb asking Catelyn’s advice after he didn’t listen toher about Theon and the Ironborn :...(

2. Those POOR FREY GIRLS are they ok? I hope Arya didn’t kill any of them since they didn’t ask to be Walder the Worst’s daughters and granddaughters.

3. Grey Worm stepping into a leadership role ❤️

4. So... was Castle Black abandoned at the END of Jahaerys’ reign? I feel like the castles were mostly manned at the beginning of his reign? Gotta check on that.

5. In which Jon and Arya are both concerned about innocent small folk.

6. I FORGOT HOW CLOSE ARYA GETS TO THE TWINS

7. I ALSO FORGOT HOW CLOSE BRAN AND RICKON GOT TO JON. And... So much warging and direwolf action!

8. Daario Grey Worm And Jorah make a badass team gotta say.

9. HOLY SHIT MY WIFE JUST POINTED OUT THAT ROSLIN IS ANNE FROM THE MUSKETEERS. I knew I loved that face in a way I hadn’t before when she took off that veil!

10. Byyyyyyeeee Shaggy and Rickon and Osha!

11. Robb and Talisa decided to name the baby Eddard  right before shit went down and I am NOT OK.

12. Fuck me that song HERE WE GO FOLKS.

13. Ugh Catelyn figured out what was about to happen right before. I had forgotten that. All the things that weren’t ok any of the other times are still not ok.

14. GREYWIND NO and now the crying

15. Catelyn with her knife to that Frey girl’s throat is so desperately sad Michelle Fairley BROUGHT IT and I hate everything

3x10: Of Course I’m watching this right after the Red Wedding what do you suggest I do instead? Sit on the couch and cry? (Because that’s definitely what I was gonna do if I didn’t start the next one.)

1. I never noticed Sandor picking up the FREY banner very intentionally smart man. Which I am choosing to focus on because...

2. if I never see Robb’s body with Greywind’s head again it will be too soon.

3. Tyrion and Sansa talking about how to get back at people who laugh at them like they’re friends ❤️❤️❤️

4. Any man who must say I am the king is no true king TELL IT LIKE IT IS TYWIN.

5. Tywin: 1 Joffrey: -15 I’ve been waiting for that throwdown for a while now.

6. Tywin really believes what he’s saying about putting family first. And that STORY ABOUT NEARLY DROWNING TYRION OMG.

7. Ugh Sansa knooooows about the RW and Tyrion just walks away because he’s the last “family” she wants to see.

8. Scary stories at the Night Fort! Like the Rat King... Bran’s a good ghost story teller.

9. WHAT A TRANSITION TO WALDER FREY after all that talk of guest right

10. Can’t wait for dogs to eat Ramsay because Theon’s pleas to be killed turns my stomach and make me see red all at once LEAVE HIM ALONE YOU BASTARD

11. Oh jeez this is where we get the Reek thing in the show. Theon says his own name twice before Ramsay hurts him enough he calls himself Reek and Alfie is SO GOOD I HATE IT

12. Oh right Sam & Co are in the Nightfort too!

13. Yarra not being ok with Balon abandoning Theon GIVES ME LIFE. She’s just so disgusted with her dad AS SHE SHOULD BE.

14. Greyjoys DO NOT DO AS THEY ARE TOLD and I love Yarra.

15. Don’t talk too much shit about highborns Gendry You’re gonna be one.

16. Varys and Shae talking is SO INTERESTING. I... think Varys has some points, and I think she should have listened, taken the diamonds, and peaced out of King’s Landing.

17. That Cersei and Tyrion scene where they talk about her children keeping her alive HURTS MY SOUL SO MUCH.

18. Arya stabbing the fuck out of that Frey bragging about sewing Greywind’s head on gives me SO MUCH SATISFACTION. Also Sandor being like “TELL ME next time we’re gonna do murder, ok kid?” Is THE BEST.

19. I love that Davos is the one we get to see reading the letter Maester Aemon writes.

20. DAVOS MAKES A CHOICE AND IT’S THE RIGHT ONE. Do you know how to swim?? No. ... Don’t fall out. 😂

21. Jaime is hoooooome in King’s Lannister and I have Lannister feels spilling ALL OVER THE PLACE.

22. Oh right and Dany has a whole bunch of people calling her mom in whatever variety of Valyrian they speak in Yunkai. That was a thing. 

[theatricalplacenta]

Just having some early morning thoughts on relationships. Contemplating and reflecting on how trauma affects your ability to connect with people or have basic fucking emotions, or how to trust people, or connect with them.

Growing up with a literal bat shit crazy biological mother, who was narcissistic and didn’t love her children beyond loving them as possessions, beat them to shit, verbally abused them, left them in situations where they were sexually abused, and on one occasion even sexually abused her eldest (me) herself; /REALLY/ fucked up my ability to form relationships of any kind. I’ll never leave my friends, and I consider them family because they are much more to me than my birth parents were, and I love them like I love my siblings, but they can leave me, and i will “understand”, because I see myself as unlovable.

Years and years and years of therapy didn’t fix it. Didn’t help it.  Years and years and years of seeing a psychiatrist didn’t help either. Everyone always says “see a shrink”, like it’s an instant fix. Sometimes, things take your whole life to work with, to understand, to make peace with, and learn and teach yourself to do things you would have learned as a child. (Or maybe you had, and became unable to process a certain strain of thoughts, or feelings after a certain situation or occurrence.  Sometimes things are never fixed. Most of the time, you learn to live with it. Ptsd can be reversed... as can depression... but it is not something to expect. Aiming for “normality” can set you back. Striving for perfection instead of taking baby steps towards living with your mental illness; living with yourself, is just setting yourself up for failure. the need to “fix” can make the world seem so much bigger, or can make the path you want to walk seem so much longer as you haven’t planned any pit stops. I use to cry when people would hug me when I went into foster care. My foster mom would ask to hug me, and I had never been asked before. I would say no, until one day I said yes, just to see what it was like. To see what a hug that wouldn’t be accompanied with crazed whispers, or spindly, dagger fingers clawing into my back, keeping me captive as my birth mother conveyed her love and care; love and care that was never present, but she desperately tried to make it seem like it was, and it wasn’t very believable after being beaten to hell and back, screamed at and taken down with verbal assault until she foamed at the mouth and turned red and blue in the face with hatred and anger, or after she would make me watch her beat and abuse my baby brother and sister, my children, that I raised, because I was too strong to be hurt physically. Because hurting them was the only way I would understand how much she “loved me”, and hugging me- making me look, constricting my body- touching the body she so vehemently made me aware of  being ugly and disgusting, putrid-  What would it be like to be hugged by a mom who respected me, and thought I was good, and kind, and artistic, and wanted what was good for me; genuinely... Well... I can tell you. It still repulsed me. Not her- never my foster mom, but the touch. The memories that came with it. The physical feeling of nausea and revulsion, and the instinctual panic and fear that came with it- it was all there. It still is to this day- BUT, just because I am not over it...does not mean I didn’t learn to rationalize, and live with it. See, hugging was bad for me. It still is- but back then, I started going out of my way to welcome hugs, or to initiate them, because I needed to condition myself at the very least, if not train my brain to expect positive interaction with hugs. I do now, but the initial trauma will always be there, and I think I will always feel sick when being hugged, or touched in general- But... I learned to live with it. Not to say that I- nor ANYONE else has to learn to just... “live with it”, because that’s ridiculous... but if you work towards it... just baby steps... things might get better. Hell, I still panic at the sight of shoulder-blade length, wiry, curly, dark hair. I had a full on crying my eyes out silently, breath taking panic attack on a bus from seeing a woman with her hair on the road outside the window. ANYWAY The point is, shit like this affects your relationships on a primary level, and it can stay that way. I don’t have the tools to apply to my own ptsd, nor to attempt to try and help another work past their trauma, and who fucking knows if others do... I honestly haven’t found anyone who gave me factual life advice to ease these sorts of problems, but in general these people, the psychiatrists and therapists, gave me a better understanding of what is happening to me, and why... but I've come to the obvious conclusion that you can’t just /fix/ what is broken when it’s trauma.I can’t make myself attracted to people. I can’t make myself okay with being touched, even if I can become accustomed to it. I can’t just decide to have a relationship with someone like I see so many do.  But does that make me broken? Does that make me strange? Does that make me less of a person? I’m not sure... I love people in my life wholly and unconditionally, and I want to love someone some day in the way of romance.... but is my want for romance simply a want for the idea of romance?  I’m a private person... I don’t like to be nagged or when people are super clingly- or expect to talk to me every single day.... I could never not have my own bed (But i’ll peg that on my bed being my safe place, and only my closest friends may share a bed with me) I’m just.... maybe I’m just meant to die alone. On a sort-of-less-serious note: WHAT IS LOVE- HOW DO I FIND IT.  DO I GO ON TINDER!? DO I HAVE TO BE SKINNY FIRST AND LOOSE ALL THE WEIGHT I PUT ON FOR THE SOUL PURPOSE OF SCARING OFF ANYONE THAT COULD SEE ME SEXUALLY- AND NOW I’M LIKE “Damn, i wonder if sex with a person is cool. The fuck do I do- do I make a craigslist add?  Hire an escort? LOL “HELLO, I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW WHAT SEXUAL INTERCOURSE IS LIKE WITH A HUMAN BEING. IS IT AS DISGUSTING AND AWKWARD AS IT SOUNDS? OR IS IT AS HOT AS WHAT I WRITE ABOUT?” SHOULD I JOIN CHRISTIAN MINGLE AND SHOW UP WITH MY RELIGION-HATING ASS!?

AMERICA, ESPLAIN. This has been a delusional 1 am self reflection with Thea. Who should have used those two golden hours of awake time from not sleeping off her pneumonia, to finish colouring her villain deku zine piece! It’s so close to being done, and yet, HERE SHE IS!- wondering about how people could possibly be comfortable getting married, how they find and keep love- how the hell they’re having babies, and living happily- while she’s over here, crying into a bag of mcsweenies original beef jerky, with a dog at her side, and has a 95% expectancy to be living in her car or under a bridge at any given moment.  Life is really something else. I really don’t expect any of you to have read this, but if you have, share your experiences! Maybe you have pointers! Tips! Pick up lines. Maybe you can just re-affirm i’m stupid af and I should just shut the fuck up.

[dreamytfw]

Holloween

A/N: Happy Halloween everyone! I started writing this before season 14 premiered, so this contains no season 14 spoilers. This fic was written for @mybloodyrosered. On AO3.

Summary: Dean spirals into a deep depression after casting Michael out and ends up isolating himself. But Castiel WILL NOT let him spend his favorite holiday alone. (Words: 3,642)

Tags: Destiel, Dean Winchester/Castiel, Sam Winchester mentioned, Jack Kline mentioned, Mary Winchester mentioned, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Ideation, Depressed Dean Winchester, Canon Divergence, Halloween, First Kiss, Depression, Mental Illness, Unreliable Narrator

Dean didn’t know how long it had been since Michael got the boot. Not how many days, weeks, or maybe even months since nearly everyone in the Bunker had broken through the dream Michael kept him caged in and convinced him to revoke consent. Time didn’t mean a hell of a lot to him anymore. Maybe that was the one side effect left over from being chained to a comet. God knows he couldn’t tell how long he had been possessed, so maybe…

Michael hadn’t lied when he told Dean he wouldn’t leave him a drooling vegetable. Dean could walk, talk, shower, eat, and everything else just fine all by himself. So could Luthor, which surprised everyone considering how long Michael was inside him. The difference between Dean and Luthor, though, was that Luthor could still care.

Dean could do everything he did before Michael, but he didn’t care enough to. Sometimes he’d force himself to get up and eat something or duck under the shower for 10 minutes, but only when he couldn’t stand himself anymore and only when he knew the rest of the Bunker would be quiet. When the refugees from the apocalypse world wouldn’t glare at him and whisper behind his back. When Jack wouldn’t try to ask him to teach him how to train or play some card game in a falsely cheery tone undercut with pity. When his mom wouldn’t look at him tight-lipped before asking him if he wanted to go see a movie. When Sam wouldn’t give him his trademark puppy eyes and tell him that he was there if he wanted to talk. And when Cas wouldn’t stare at him like he was a world away, his insanely blue eyes drooped down in a silent, sad, judgmental tone.

Dean couldn’t talk about it. There wasn’t much to talk about. He’d made a stupid call and got burned. Again. Saving Jack and Sam and finally getting to ice Lucifer felt right, but the way he did it and what happened because of that was the part he regretted. He should have kept his cool and looked for another way. This wasn’t anything new, though. The ends always felt justified, but the means always made him feel like shit. What set this one apart from every other time was the lack of bouncing back. He was determined to do what he normally did and fake it til he made it. To pretend like there wasn’t a giant hole in his chest slowly sucking the life out of him. But Sam insisted he rest for at least a day just to make sure Michael really hadn’t done any damage and he just couldn’t force himself to get back up.

He couldn’t do it anymore. He didn’t see the point. When they brought him back it was obvious Sam could not only take care of himself but at least a dozen other people. Jack had those same other dozen people to take care of and look out for him. Cas had finally learned to look after himself and his mom never needed him to take care of her. They had a whole hub of hunters working every case that came over the line to the point where there were never any “left over” for him to take. No one needed him to be the leader or care giver. Even if they did, he was sure he’d just make another selfish choice that only put that person in danger – or even worse, get them killed like so many of the other people he’d promised to protect.

So he stayed in his room. It was weird at first. He felt like he should have been up and doing something. Cleaning the Bunker, or tuning up Baby, or trolling for a hunt. But the Bunker didn’t need cleaning thanks to the new team effort. Sam had taken care of Baby just fine and nothing was wrong with her. And there weren’t any extra hunts that he could solo. He had to keep reminding himself that there was nothing he could do. Weirdness turned to freedom. Freedom from prying eyes, scornful expressions, and whispers that followed him wherever he went. Freedom from having to constantly worry about taking care of the people he cared about. He could just be him and no one would care if he listened to the same song 50 times in a row, or if he didn’t change his clothes for a few days, or if he stayed up or went to sleep. No one cared, least of all him.

Dean slowly realized he didn’t care about anything anymore, no matter how much he wanted or tried to force himself to. All of his music sounded like static. He would watch hours of TV or movies on his laptop without taking anything in because it didn’t matter. His memory foam mattress seemed to have a permanent imprint of him curled up on his side. When laying in his own shape got annoying he would move to the floor – a decidedly less comfortable spot, but where else was he going to lay down while his silhouette faded from the mattress? Sitting up for any period of time just wasn’t an option anymore. It was so much more comfortable to lay on the floor than sit at his desk chair. He’d just end up slumped over with his head on the desk anyway, so may as well cut out the middle man.

At some point people started trying to come in and talk to him. He knew better than to lock the door. Locked doors made people worried and he didn’t need anyone worrying about him and trying to take away his carelessness as a result. He couldn’t ever say what the conversations were about, what the other person said filtering through his mind as whomp-whomps like he was a kid from the Peanuts and the other people were adults. Sometimes the words were soothing and coddling, other times they were impatient and firm. Mostly, though, they just felt like noise. He would respond at the appropriate times, saying anything to get the person to go away and leave him to his confined freedom. He would arrange his features to make reassuring expressions and make it seem like he really was fine and just needed a little more time without feeling what he was saying. He couldn’t really feel anything anymore.

Not long after that he’d start finding things on his bed after coming back from foraging or showering. A copy of On the Road he had lent Cas years ago. A tape of Zeppelin IV. A list in Sam’s handwriting of shows to watch on Netflix. A DVD box set of the original Star Wars trilogy. Things Dean normally would have enjoyed but couldn’t anymore. He’d put the gifts on his desk and watched them pile up over time with a detached amusement. It was like his personality and identity was slowly filtering out of him and into the pile of well-intentioned junk on his desk. The only thing missing from it was Baby.

There were times when he’d pass the garage on his rare outings. Sometimes he’d just stand in the doorway and stare at her for a few moments, aching for the days when he could care about her before moving back to his room. On rare occasions when he got tired of being in his bed and his back complained about being on the floor, he’d slide into the back seat of the Impala. He’d lay there with his hand running over the leather as he stared at the back of the front seat or the carpeted floor or the smooth tan ceiling, the scents the car had collected over the years folding over him. They brought back memories of when he’d almost fallen down similar holes. But those times he’d always had something to keep him hanging onto the edge, even if it was just with the tips of his fingernails. Rarely, he thought about starting her up, laying back down, and letting her take his hollow shell. He’d never do it. Outside of suicide not being the Winchester way, the garage was too big and someone would definitely hear the car running. But sometimes it was reassuring thinking that if he wanted to, he could.

Dean knew he couldn’t keep living like this. He knew sooner or later, something was going to give and life would come crashing back in on him. He knew he needed to prepare. To get his shit together and make some sort of effort of at least faking it. But the more he tried, the more he even thought about it, he found that he just couldn’t anymore. He wanted to tell Sam or his mom about his inability to care when they would knock on his door to come and check on him, but the words wouldn’t come out. He wanted Jack to keep an eye out for him in case he did something stupid, but he couldn’t bring himself to put all his baggage on the poor kid. He wanted to reach out and pull Cas down next to him just so he wouldn’t be alone, but he could never find the will to lift his hands or say anything. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything to make contact with the people he wanted to care about again, and Dean hated himself for it.

So when a knock sounded on his door as the Bunker lay unusually quiet, he thought it would be the same old song and dance of wanting to connect while pushing away.

“Come in,” Dean heard himself say, his flat tone sounding unfamiliar to his own ears. He didn’t even bother to look up when the door opened, his eyes remaining fixed on the wall in front of him. He heard a heavy sigh he recognized as Cas’s and silently agreed.

“I’m glad to see you’re not on the floor this time.”

Dean gave a short hum, his mind sluggishly trying to come up with a reply.

“Makes me stiff if I lay there too much.”

He could hear the angel shift, a familiar stiff rustling noise that Dean’s slow mind couldn’t quite place added to the usual sound of fabric.

“I’d like to spend some time with you, if you don’t mind.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Dean replied on autopilot. He winced and started screaming at himself in his head, but the words just spilled from his mouth. “I’m fine.”

“Allow me to rephrase,” Castiel said. Dean heard the door click shut and felt Cas’s weight at the foot of the bed the next moment. That finally got him to turn his head and look at the other man, blinking dimly at the stern concern etched into his features. “I’m spending time with you tonight whether you like it or not.”

Dean swallowed. Slowly, painstakingly, he rolled over onto his back and sat up, leaning back against the headboard.

“Cas-” Dean began protesting, but was cut off.

“Dean, please,” Castiel pleaded, placing a hand on the mattress and leaning forward earnestly. “It’s Halloween. You always said this was one of your favorite holidays and I will not let you spend it alone to rot in your own misery.”

Dean blinked again, not really sure where to start. A guilty look flashed over the angel’s features, the expression Cas always had when he thought he’d said too much.

“…Halloween?” Dean asked dumbly. He could feel his mind struggling with the concept. He’d felt frozen in time for so long that the idea of a specific date felt completely foreign to him. And yet… something about hearing what day it was made something click in his brain. He could feel the rusted out cogs in his brain try to move, to try and make him aware of his surroundings again.

“Yes,” Castiel replied with a wary look. “That’s why it’s so quiet tonight. Sam and your mother took Jack and the children out trick-or-treating with the other parents and everyone else is out celebrating at a local bar.”

Dean sat there for a few moments, attempting to process this information. His brain scrambled, trying to contextualize the information, trying to feed him memories of the last thing he could remember before everything went grey and flat.

“…has it really been six months since Michael…?”

Castiel frowned in confusion, concern returning to his features. “Do you not remember all of us bringing you home?”

“I do. I just can’t really remember when that was,” Dean replied slowly, a sense of shame coming over him. How could he not remember when they brought him home?

“You’ve been home for three months.”

Dean stared at Cas dumbstruck. Three months? It felt like both too short and too long of a time frame. It didn’t make sense. If it had been that long, why hadn’t anyone tried to snap him out of it? Dean leaned his head back and let it lull to the side, his vision falling on the pile of stuff on his desk. Then he realized they had tried to snap him out of it. They’d been trying hard for months. Coming into his room every day, bringing him things they thought he’d enjoy. Sam had always been there to talk to. His mom offered to take him out and get his mind off of things. Jack asked him to teach him things and tried to bond with him. And Cas always came in to check on Dean what he could only assume was every day. They’d all tried so hard to get him to come around. He was just too wrapped up in his own selfishness to respond. A pressure started pushing in on his chest and down on the back of his throat. The world was crashing in on him.

“Three months?”

Castiel simply nodded, his eyes drooping in sadness.

“At first we though Michael did something to you while we were trying to cast him out. But once it was obvious that you were capable of taking care of yourself, we realized it was something else. We all tried to bring you back to some semblance of normalcy, but short of physically dragging you outside, it didn’t seem like there was much we could do.”

Dean’s gaze drifted from Cas to the wall behind him as he tried to draw in breath, the world spiraling. He’d been home for three months. He’d abandoned everyone for three months, longer if you include Michael taking over. They’d all known something was wrong and tried to help him for three months, but he’d been too stubborn and caught up in finally not caring to realize what was going on. He was such a self-centered bastard.

“Dean?”

Dean took in a shuddery gasp, desperate to pull air back into his lungs. The world was closing in around him and it was smothering him. He was drowning in his own thoughtlessness. He could practically feel water it was so heavy. His chest felt like it was tearing itself apart, threatening to implode as punishment for his arrogance.

And then, there were arms around him, trying desperately to hold him together. The world crashed in on him like a wave and everything he hadn’t felt over the past three months came flooding into him at once. Cas was his only means of staying afloat in this maelstrom of emotions and Dean clung to him. He clung to him and let go.

“I’m sorry,” Dean sobbed, his head tucked into the angel’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I fucked up so bad. I’m such a useless, selfish, arrogant, stupid piece of shit.”

“No you’re not,” Castiel reassured Dean gently, his voice cracking. His hands moved soothingly over the hunter’s back and his head nudged in against Dean’s. “This isn’t your fault.”

“Yes it is. I left you. I left all of you. Just so I could… I don’t even know. I don’t know. I don’t know what I was doing. I just know that I didn’t want to care anymore and now I can’t no matter how much I want or need to. I need help but I’ve been too chickenshit to ask anyone for it.”

“You’re asking for it right now. And you’ll get it,” Castiel said gently. His words were like air and Dean clung to Cas tighter, pulling the source in closer to his own drowning, gasping, desperate form. He didn’t know how long he cried, but Cas cradled and spoke gently to him the entire time. At some point they ended up lying down with Dean’s face pressed against Cas’s chest, but Dean couldn’t tell who had dragged whom into that position. All that mattered was that Cas was there. Dean stayed nuzzled up to Cas long after the tears stopped, just breathing the angel in.

“Sorry about that,” Dean eventually muttered. “You know I don’t usually… I just… Three months. It’s a lot to think about.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I’m glad you finally reached out to me.”

“I think you technically reached out to me, but whatever.”

Castiel chuckled and the warmth of it seeped through Dean. Somehow, it was the most comforting thing Cas had said the entire time.

“How do you feel?”

Dean paused and thought, his face dragging down into a confused frown. He sat up and wiped at his eyes, his voice small. “Numb.”

Castiel let out a sigh next to him. Dean felt his weight shift and a hand cup his cheek, turning his gaze towards sincere blue eyes.

“I’ll be here until that goes away,” Castiel smiled, his thumb wiping at the wetness on Dean’s cheek.

Something in Cas’s eyes hit Dean hard in the chest, leaving him winded. Memories came back to him suddenly, flashes of the day dream Michael had kept him in so Dean couldn’t revoke consent. Driving to the Carolinas with Sam next to him and Jack, Cas, and his mom playing “I Spy” in the backseat. Sitting on a warm beach, watching Sam and his mom teach Jack how to swim while Cas sat next to him holding his hand. Getting a little too drunk one night in the hotel room he shared with Cas and finally telling him how he’d felt for years. Seeing that same look on the angel’s face that he was seeing now and the warmth it gave him to hear Cas say he felt the same way. The feeling grew with each returning flashback. It wound and hooked itself around his heart and tugged him forward slowly until his forehead came to rest against Cas’s.

“Dean? Wha-”

“I was an idiot,” Dean’s voice felt rough against his own throat as he closed his eyes and brought a hand up to cup the back of Castiel’s neck.

“You didn’t have a choice. Michael-”

“Not that. I mean, yeah, I was an idiot about that too. I should’ve known that dick wasn’t gonna keep his word. But that’s not what I’m talking about here.”

“I… We don’t need to-”

Dean closed the small space between them and pressed his lips against Castiel’s, cutting off his stammering. The feeling hooked into his heart squeezed tighter and Dean needed more of it. It was the first good thing he’d felt in months and he needed more of it. There was another tug when he felt Cas return his kiss and melt into it. They sat there for a few long moments, Dean scared to move for fear of the feeling ending or the world crashing back in on him. It was Cas who moved first, his other hand coming to rest on Dean’s shoulder.

“As much as I enjoyed finally getting to do that, I don’t think now is an opportune time to talk about this.”

Dean opened his eyes and looked at Cas with a confused need. The feeling was fading and Dean leaned back in to try and bring it back, but Cas pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked, trying to keep his voice steady. If Cas rejected him now, he didn’t know what he’d do. Cas coming in here was like a ladder being lowered down into whatever hole he had fallen into and if the angel refused him he’d be taking that ladder with him. “You said you liked it. We don’t have to talk. Just…”

Castiel offered Dean a comforting smile, silently asking Dean what he was going to do with him.

“I did, and I would like to do it again, and frankly more if I’m being completely honest,” Castiel paused, his endlessly blue eyes searching Dean’s puzzled green ones for a sign of comprehension. “But I think it’s more important for you to get better first. I’ll be here with you for however long that will take.”

“It might take longer than we want it to,” Dean grumbled glumly, laying back down as his body sagged under the weight of his slowly returning apathy. He felt exhausted all of a sudden.

“I have time,” Cas spoke softly. Dean felt the angel’s weight shift on the bed again and heard the same stiff rustling from before. “I also have candy and a movie if you’d like to spend Halloween together.”

Dean raised his head and saw Cas holding a bag of Twizzlers and a bargain bin DVD of Frankenstein. His eyes shifted back to Cas’s hopeful look. He was tired and he didn’t think he’d be able to actually enjoy the movie or candy now that he felt nothing again. But at the same time, he didn’t want Cas to leave either. And that small island of want in his sea of apathy was something at least.

“Yeah, okay. Sounds nice.”