#at least in human years. fuck if i’m figuring out alien ages

[apollos-boyfriend]

day eighteen: aliens

purpled’s telling her about how much of a killing machine dogchamp is. it’s hard to believe him when said dog has been nothing but a sweetheart to you since day one

[marionedde]

jacks insane alien rant stuff (invader zim edition) bc if I didn’t type it out and tell at least one person my head was going to explode

been trying to crack the code about how zim can be an adult (possibly a joke on vasquezs part) and a child (referred to as one in the description early on)

also foh with the ship defending shit. I don’t give a fuck about that I’m just autistic and this’ll keep me up at night

answer?

he’s an ALIEN.

he was a baby for two minutes. Irkens are fucked up

I’m still certain zim is physically a child (and prob mentally he acts like one) but age wise and by the speed at which their planet spins is technically sixteen in Irken years.

so he’s been alive for 160+ years but it’s possible considering how weird Irken growth his that he barely grew or even got older that entire time. another couple of giveaways is that he

a) sounds like a pre pubescent child and in the first episode we hear an Irken with a deeper voice who also appears to be taller. this figure, while partially hidden, looks similar to the tallest but obviously is not as high up as they are. The tallest have higher pitched voices than him but Yknow. Men can have high pitched voices. b) he (attempts) to flirt with tak, who at the time was only confirmed to be human and about 11 years old.

It’d be kind of weird if he was an adult.

c) zim acts sounds and Yknow, looks like a child through the entire series. Maybe you can just chalk this down to he’s short but from the pov of me who’s less than five feet and in high school, your face structure can be a dead giveaway about your age. Most people just don’t bother to look down long enough to see.

d) alright let’s talk biology. As we know humans start getting acne around 10-13 years old. now staring again, zim is an ALIEN and they definitely have different skin than humans do but the fact that zim can get acne and from the same source a human can might suggest a bit of a ballpark we can make.

e) “oh um zim is an invader though he’s probably an adult-“ do you see that planet? You think they wouldn’t use child soldiers for sweet, sweet conquest? Have you watched the show?

f) Jhonen Vasquez likes to fuck with the fans. I think we might be taking some statements a little too serious. Also leave the guy alone he made this beautiful show let’s stop harassing him so you can draw your weird yaoi stuff.

ok conclusion?

my main theory is that:

If you get taller you grow. Irkens could have a completely fucked up growth pattern that relies completely on growing. Who knows. Maybe some Irkens stay children forever (see child soldier note) and maybe some of them grow fast as fuck. this also supports the fact that the tallest went to class with zim but ended up in power. I assume at some point they grew taller, essentially got too old for school, were taken out and treated like royalty (thus explaining why they’re less serious than all the other Irken we’ve seen.)

of course I could be wrong. Whatever you headcanon is your opinion and it’d be unfair of me to push that on you. This is mostly for myself to get my thoughts out cuz I was going so insane I remember what tree bark tasted like (don’t ask.)

thank you for reading and remember to be respectful to other people s opinions. As long as they aren’t hurting someone they aren’t doing anything wrong.

[ablizmal]

I JUST FIGURED IT OUT. the parallels and juxtaposition between the pairs of light+misa vs L+juliette.

something i see heavily in both light and misa —one of the only things they have in common, you could say— is that they both adhere to societal expectations. like… to an excessive extent. you know? they both cling onto it for a semblance of normalcy, to capture that feeling of “i belong, i belong, i belong.”

it’s their crutch. in a life full of alienation (for light, not finding meaning in anything, for misa, the immense loneliness and lack of a social life), at the very least they can have this. although they experience alienation, at least they’re not experiencing total isolation— or worse, ostracization, being disapproved of by others.

(that last sentence would be such an eye opening sentence for someone to analyze if english isn’t their first language… /positive)

getting back on topic, light is a VERY repressed person. in the fucking cherry cola universe (aka death note including my s/i), he’s gay but is so deep in the closet he’s not even AWARE he’s in a closet, it’s all he’s ever known.

besides this (or maybe alongside it???), he’s flamboyant. he really, really is, but in canon, we don’t get to see this as much, which i interpret being due to light adhering to everyone’s expectations of him. idk if this specific facet of toxic gender roles is also prevalent in japan, but i can see light, at a certain age (somewhere from 10-12 years old), noticing adults discomfort at his theatrics and stopping immediately. (he’s kind of a daddy’s boy tbh…)

misa, too, is repressed. you KNOW she would love stuff like horror movies, gothic bands, screamo, metal, and the likes, but she doesn’t. the only interests she has that we’re aware of in canon is the occult and fashion. this is for sure due to the writer of death note’s inherent misogyny in every female character he writes, but if you employ some ingenuity (like me (⟡⸝⸝U_U) *ੈ ‧₊˚ .), you can view misa’s lack of characterization as a foreboding sign that misa isn’t okay.

misa doesn’t have any friends. we know this.

her modeling coworkers aside, the only friend we hear misa talk about is her occult friend, and she never mentions her again past the video tape arc. (yeah, that’s what i’ll call misa’s introduction chapters. why not? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

this coupled with her parents being murdered… misa is desperate for any sort of approval from others. i mean think about it— outside of her modeling career, she doesn’t interact with anyone! she has a room full of personal items (plushes, posters, furniture, etc), which can be completely normal, but for the sake of my headcanons, has accumulated so much from her spending loads of time by herself, in her house, alone. this is the main setting she’s in. of COURSE she’s gonna get bored with the minimalism of it and add her own personal touches!

one of the few forms of self expression she allows herself to have is her fashion, but there’s a well known subculture for that fashion in japan (harajuku, but i’m pretty sure misa’s is gothic harajuku specifically). so, to sum it up— misa has a group of people who understand her fashion sense, therefore she belongs somewhere.

(note: i am NOT insinuating that misa only wears gothic fashion to fit in somewhere. that’s a stupid af take and it just doesn’t fit misa’s vibes to be perfectly honest. what i am saying, however, is that misa freely expresses her unconventional fashion sense because she knows there are others like her. that’s all. (this is likely one of the only unconventional groups of people she’s knowledgeable about.))

i’d even say that misa is highly intelligent, given how she gathered credible evidence that higuchi is the new kira in the yotsuba arc, but she intentionally hides it. why, you ask?

because she knows she’ll be undermined by men, and she seeks approval over anything, she’s substituting it for human connection, so she just… tucks it away. (fuck, maybe she believes that her intellect will be undermined by everyone as a result of the murderer of her parents never being convicted despite her testimonies…)

there’s also a Whole Other Instance (slash personal interpretation) i could bring up here, but i’ll just make that its own post, because this one is already WAY longer than i ever thought it was gonna be.

and we’re only halfway there, boys…

touching upon the thesis of this now pseudo-essay, L and juliette are unconventional. and they don’t care lol.

it’s well known that L doesn’t give a particular shit about how he comes across to others. like the dude’s rich, he could buy whatever clothes he wants, but he chooses to wear his usual clothes because of sensory issues he wants to. his hair is messy and he doesn’t need to comb it because of how short it is, he sits in that gargoyle pose, and he doesn’t hold back on using his deferential vocabulary when the situation permits it.

before the kira case, he would solve cases from a dark room. sounds fine enough… until you hear that there is no furniture in this room and his PC setup is on the floor. 😭

L also is either unaware of social cues or doesn’t care about them, or doesn’t care enough to learn about them, leading to scenes such as:

or him dropping loaded comments like they aren’t as massive as they are.

he admits with no hesitance that he can be childish when it comes to competition. childish… he’s using an insulting word for what it is at its core— a word to describe certain attributes. (he is quite literally ignoring what the conventional intent of the word is.)

likewise, even around the taskforce, he persists in his typical demeanor, what with his stare that bores into your soul, or slunking around in public, hunched over, his appearance coming off as ghoulish with his pale skin and shadowed eyes. (i’m not saying this as a negative, btw, i love his haunting aura,,, 💗∀💗)

and juliette?? juliette embraces the unconventional with every fiber of her being. as long as she’s alive, she will always endorse the unconventional so long as it’s harmless (because what’s wrong with it if it’s not hurting anyone?). they hate the word “normal” being used for non-universal experiences. having a certain blood pressure is normal. there is no such thing as a “normal” hairstyle, that comes down to personal preference.

she LOATHES the enforcement of conformity. it pisses them off to the point that they go out of their way to be even MORE unconventional, as a way of telling closeminded’s, “fuck OFF, there is nothing wrong with us, with people like me, and if you do have a problem with me, then you can kiss my heels, cause they’re landing in your face anyways!”

when it won’t come with bullshit consequences (like being treated unfairly at their job for being open about her genderqueerness :/), she doesn’t bite their tongue. they speak their mind if they hear someone spewing the most terrible of things, whether covertly or not, which is what makes juliette the only person to come to heads with light time and time again. (let’s face it, light is the type of person to get away with saying microagressions, and since he believes he’s right, he drops them way too often. and no one SAYS anything about it because “no no, light does mean it like ~that!~ he’s so RESPECTFUL and KIND :(((((((((((”)

she isn’t afraid to express her joy and wonder, even at the smallest of things. they know they can be ridiculed and judged for it, but they also recognize the importance of small joys, and that significance outweighs ANY judgement that may be hurled her way.

that’s kind of juliette’s whole thing, actually. if anyone judges her for her unconventionality, she says “so? what are you gonna do about it? gonna go into my brain and rewrite everything about me? huh?” jdksjdksjdkajxjs, she can get VERY snarky about this, but they are proving a point, which is “BITCH, who asked?”

light: …you sure do have a unique laugh, juliette.¹

juliette: well, Boy Genius,² what’s a normal laugh then? huh? what is the typical pattern emerging from instinct which creates the phenomenon known as a laugh? present me with evidence. write me about all your findings, since you’re apparently so knowledgeable about this topic. (mockingly tilts head) it shouldn’t be so hard!~ (❀ ˶ ⁍̴̛ ◡ ⁍̴̛˶)

1) just one of light’s MANY casual insults that he can justify away due to plausible deniability.

2) yes, like jimmy neutron. (FUN FACT, i just found out by creating this exchange (and subsequently checking to see if juliette making this reference is possible in ~2003, given the manga’s timeline) that the jimmy neutron series first aired in 2002. i would’ve sworn from vibes alone that it started in 2007, but eh, “the more you know,” amiright??)

(how the fuck do i even get back on topic after that tonal shift)

to summarize,

light and misa are both people who care heavily about what other people think of them. they conform to what’s expected of them, even if that means closing themselves off from potential happiness.

whereas L and juliette are so authentic. okay, well, maybe L isn’t authentic around prime suspect, light yagami, but!! in all the time he’s known light, he still continued to eat sweets and only sweets, y’know?? if it won’t hinder him solving the kira case, L shows up as himself, odd quirks and all (🥰).

L and juliette have discovered the secrets of the universe, that secret being “i am cringe, but i am free.” (✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)

but it’s not so cut and dry as that, as they have varying degrees… no, different ways that this presents itself.

misa is more likely to be swayed if in the right environment (like how she had a friend who engaged in the occult).

L doesn’t care what others think about him. he is SO uncaring, in fact, that he doesn’t feel the need to explain his behavior.

but light and juliette… they’re in leagues of their own.

light has NO identity beyond what others expect of him. this is one of the reason why he’s depressed at the beginning of the series. he’s become everything everyone’s ever wanted— for his family, he’s the perfect son and brother. for his classmates, he’s the perfect student, the perfect friend, is TOTAL boyfriend material (apparently???¿? i can’t see it lmao).

yet it’s meaningless. everything that’s supposed to be fun, like spending time with friends, going out, karaoke, hobbies, playing games, sports, academics, dating… it’s meaningless to light. it’s too predictable, he’s too smart for it, really… so it’s not his fault. it’s not his fault it’s not entertaining to him! it just so happens that he’s better, and more intelligent, than everyone else.

to cope with his alienation, he shoves himself onto a pedestal, eventually diminishing and forgetting the whole point of such human activities. he spits in the face of humanity.

he’s above it all.

but juliette embraces human life. she loves the humans, and sees the inherent worth in the human experience! she condones recreational activities such as singing, dancing, playing, relaxing. they believe that our connections with others is what makes life worth it, even if it’s connections so complex and distant that you can’t even witness them (think of produce at your local supermarket. they wouldn’t be there if the farmers who grew them didn’t exist).

juliette supports self expression above all else, whether that’s through emotions, music, writing, art… any creative means, really! it’s also why she’s so vehement about presenting the way you want through fashion, or socially, through words (heyo, genderqueer nation (⌐ᗜᴗᗜ)).

i mean, this song is one of juliette’s anthems:

these beliefs run deep in their bones. she wouldn’t be the same person without them.

in this way, light is the antithesis to juliette. light is the one who lies about himself to others the most. juliette sticks true to themself as much as she can and HATES conformity SO much that she actively spites people who wish to enforce it.

which is why they are at each other’s throats (mostly) through words.

if misa is more easily swayed, then light stands firm in his need to be acceptable to others.

if L is quiet, but content, with his eccentricities, then juliette is loud and open about hers.

[kekithepancake25]

✨ ~ Niap Lore ~ ✨

okay so I know he just debuted yesterday but IDGAF so here’s some lore >:3

—————

Niap is a chaotic blob-like creature that can sing entire instrumental songs with just his voice (though it’s usually used to be annoying). He has a friend named Sam who he partially sees as a parent figure, even though Niap is some whacky alien blob thing or some shit. He’s shockingly civilized on occasion, however. For example, in the first episode’s outro, he is seen sleeping on Sam’s head peacefully. I will keep doing this btw :3

Oh, and Niap ages differently. He’s technically six months old in human years, but in his years he’s 6 times that age (3 years old). Oh yeah and he has a 180 IQ despite being 5 inches tall and getting squashed like Plankton every goddamn day 👍 good for him. Speaking of impact, he can get squashed by literally anything and come out perfectly fine. Fuck you, physics, we’ve got gelatin on our side today.

He also eats about as much ramen as Naruto on a daily basis and will wreak havoc upon the dirt orb until you give him dessert. He actually hates fruit, though, particularly blueberries, apples, grapes, and oranges. Why is this oddly specific preference a part of the lore of a blob, you may ask? None of your fucking business. Feel free to figure it out. He also plays Pokémon games which is cool for a 3 year old gelatinous blob with nubs for hands.

Now for some Sam lore :D If it means anything, they actually googled “are sweet potatoes fruits” in the first episode. Their closet is also filled with blue clothes, although they don’t actually wear clothes. They have an anxiety attack on a daily basis and do very stupid things, but they’re (somewhat) responsible at least 👍

—————

Random fun facts:

• The devil horns on Niap’s head is actually a headband, and he was actually born with it on. Yeah, you read that correctly.

• Niap’s name is literally just “pain” but backwards. Hey, that’s what Sam feels every day.

• Sam’s name was not stated in the first episode.

• Niap is based on something and is his lore is partially based off of it. I’m not going to reveal what this thing he’s based on is yet, but I might later on.

—————

Thank you for your time :3 Also I will now be posting primarily on Fridays and Saturdays, but I might post throughout other days, too. It is now 4 AM send fucking help.

[dancerladyaqua]

Elyos dragon ramblings

I’m wondering if dragons in FE Engage get more dragon-like features on their humanoid body as they get older (minus Lumera, unsure what’s up with her)

Alear and Veyle are relatively young and are human in appearance, in contrast to Sombron and Zephia. Sombron is so obviously an evil dragon what with his purple skin, third eye, pointed ears, talons, etc., but he’s also an extra-terrestrial being, really, to the world of Elyos. It’s a no-brainer he looks like no one else in the game aside from his FUCKING CHILDREN

Zephia is humanoid aside from the pointed ears. She’s a mage dragon who’s lived thousands of years. The only other mage dragon in Engage I can remember at least is Veyle’s mother who is never seen or named. I purposely purged 9th grade biology from my mind so I have no idea about dominant traits (this is also a goddamn anime game), but you’d think Veyle would have pointed ears given both her parents are races that have pointed ears... unless dragons in Elyos (give or take divine dragons) get these traits as they grow older.

We only had one mention of Alear’s biological mother who they quote told them their name was of Sombron’s choosing. Alear could be a Fell Dragon/human hybrid for all we know, but all that’s clear is that Alear can’t be 100% Fell Dragon because Sombron is the only one in Elyos. Sombron obviously doesn’t feel any way about beings other than himself and Zero Emblem so I’m gonna postulate that he doesn’t give a damn what race the mothers of his children are. 

If Alear is half human, round ears kinda makes sense if that’s what ended up being dominant. If Alear is half mage dragon, then the ears probably stay rounded until some time where a biological change happens around a certain age.

It’s possible age, or use of power, affects when/if they can change from humanoid form to dragon form. Veyle says she can’t change into a dragon. Alear never finds out, but their dragonstone breaks before they ever test that. Veyle isn’t shown to have one but we can infer that she does as she never mentioned it breaking. Zephia also never changes form.

It could be another age thing, but since Zephia is so much older than them (especially if we assume pointed ears = bodily maturity), you’d think she could. It’s possible she never wanted to... but let’s assume she couldn’t. One thing that might stop her is use of high-level magic, like when creating the time-reverse crystal drained her power so much she died. Like using too much power from a battery, she might not be able to achieve dragon form if she’s not at full strength. For example, Sombron too can only transform once he’s gained enough power through the sovereign blood ritual... but comparing them is difficult since he’s an alien, but also using their magic... Hm.

We never figure out where the draconic time crystal comes from exactly other than that Veyle dropped it. She or Zephia may have made it. If Veyle made it, that might explain why she can’t transform. If Zephia made it, that explains more of why Zephia can’t transform, and feeds into the idea that Veyle needs to properly mature before being able to become a dragon.

I also wonder if Sombron, although he doesn’t care about anyone, wanted to keep himself in power and conducted a spell that physically doesn’t allow mage dragons or his children from achieving dragon form.

Anyway... I’ve rambled so much and who knows what’s actually true. I’ll stop here for now.

[arcaneprism]

Coffee Shops

Requested by: @catuskat666​

Prompts: Soulmate AU, magic coffee mug

Warnings: Mentions of food

Notes: IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE I ACTUALLY STARTED WRITING IT AGES AGO BUT I GOT HIT WITH THE WORST WRITERS BLOCK - like... i literally havent written anything I could release as even a short story for years??? So I decided to like... bullet point hcs (my thoughts may wander and be incoherent im so sorry) instead or else this will never see the light of day. I will leave the few lines I’ve written at the bottom tho!! 

———————————————————————————————————

So most people have soulmate marks that make it easy to find who their soulmate is. It could be an odd mark but once you knew who it was referring to then it’s pretty obvious.

Okay some people had rather unfortunate marks because of this (Claire had the trollhunters amulet in a pan poor girl) but he’d still say they got lucky

Douxie got a fucking coffee mug

He worked in a coffee shop constantly surrounded by people who are addicted to and reliant to coffee how on Earth was he supposed to rely on a coffee cup to figure out who his soulmate was???

Okay well, he knew that they were magic at least.

His soul mark was on his left forearm and it spends most of its time under Douxie’s magic bracelet thing and his hoodie sleeve. It was a magic wand pouring coffee into a mug with magic sparkles surrounding it. the mug had a ribbon banner type of decor around it that said something Douxie couldn’t fully make out. All he could read of it was ‘- alive because of coffee -’ and ‘-ally die’. 

(Pardon the sketchiness i kinda just doodled it like 5 minutes ago)

Once again, Douxie did not find this information helpful. Arcadia was filled with magical creatures - trolls, aliens, wizards and witches, it was literally magic central and again !!! He works !!! in a coffee shop !!! surrounded by caffeine addicts !!!

When asked, Douxie would probably shrug it off - he’d been alive 900 years after all, if he was going to meet his soulmate, he’d probably have done it by now. (Especially now that, y’know, he worked where their source of life can easily be found - no he wasn’t salty at all that he’s not met them, what made you think that?)

It would be nice to meet them though. He would love the intimacy and understanding people with soulmates seemed to experience. Platonic or romantic, it didn’t matter. He’d love having a lifelong friend he could bare his soul to. 

If he was being honest, the reason he craved meeting his soulmate so much is probably his lack of a support system?? He had Archie and Zoe and made various friends over the years sure but Archie wasn’t human and he didn’t always get it and Zoe had her own life and her own issues and both of them often needed space from each other (900 years of constantly being around the same person does get quite suffocating) and his other friends were mortal so... that wasn’t great. What he build proved to be a sufficient support system over the years but a sufficient support system doesn’t make for an ideal one and yeah, he’d like something more stable

Whatever ROT alternative happened, Douxie went to Metrocity or somewhere and came back to Arcadia after.

(I like the thought that he probably bumped into his soulmate at Metrocity honestly??? They were probably holidaying or lived there or something idk but the universe dictated that it was not yet time for them to meet so no significant conversation happened and definitely nothing coffee related they probably just passed by each other or something)

Back at Arcadia, Douxie went back to working at the coffee shop

Everything was settled, his family has grown, he felt at peace. Soulmate existing or not, he was happy with the support system he finally built. He was happy.

Then one day someone walked into the shop speaking into their phone.

“Okay, I’m at the coffee shop now.” “Oh come on, you know me. I’m literally only alive because of coffee. I need it. Without it, I’d literally die.”

The words they spoke felt familiar but he wasn’t quite sure where he’d heard them before.

He took their order and didn’t notice them staring at the skull necklace around his neck as they spoke.

He made their order, not realising that he had grabbed one of the takeaway cups with a ribbon decal around it.

When he passed them their order, their fingers brushed and Douxie could feel the small distinctive tingle of magic on their fingertips.

When he looked up, he saw their soulmate mark on their shoulder and stopped.

The customer furrowed their brows then asked if he played guitar and oh

Oh, this was them.

He’d finally found them.

I imagine his soulmate’s mark to be something somewhat like the doodle above? A guitar with a skull on it surrounded by wisps of magic.

But okay yeah that’s pretty much all I had in mind for this there’s a bit of prose under the picture underneath but as you can see I was... struggling for coherency akjefsajdn

Douxie had the stupidest soulmate mark, he decided.

Some people had soulmate marks that were clear and told them who their soulmate were. Jim had a skull on top of the shadow staff made out of roses and Claire had the trollhunter’s amulet on top of a frying pan - which looked kind of weird but it was clear. They could tell who their soulmates were. They knew.

Douxie had a goddamned coffee mug. A COFFEE MUG!! HE WORKS IN A COFFEE SHOP HOW IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE HELPFUL!?!?!?

If he’s only worked in

[80s4life]

The Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing

Word Count: 4,438

Status: Not Requested

Fandom: Back To The Future 1985

Relationship: Biff Tannen x Female Reader

Summary: As time is altered for a total of 2 weeks (I extended it slightly), you and Marty struggle to get his parents under control, having problem after the next. But, when an unexpected solution occurs, you find yourself willingly okay with it, soon finding the exact reason as to why.

Warnings: language, fluff, Biff being a dick, slight angst, cute Biff

Masterlist Back To The Future Masterlist

Prompts: (from this list @youneedsomeprompts​)

Y/C/S= Your Choice of Sport/ Your Chosen Sport (you don’t have to honestly play one, just choose one you like or one that comes to mind)

{gif and prompts are not mine, gif credits go to @backtothefuturemovies and credits were given above for prompts!}

No one ever said time travel was fun. No one ever said the job was easy. And no one sure as hell told you the consequences that come with it. Well, at least not before you, and your best friend, Marty McFly, had gone dead-on through a barn, sacred a neighboring family of ‘alien invasion,’ run into younger McFly parents, and altered time just enough to fuck you over for a few days.

I mean, who would’ve guessed right? Your mom just so happens to be romantically interested in you, their child. Well, that was at least in Marty’s case. For you, you had just managed to run into the biggest dickhead of the century, Biff Tannen. Or so you thought?

Making your way out of bed, you automatically go to where Marty was sleeping in the garage, waking him along with Doc up. The go-to plan for the day was to go undercover as usual students in the 50′s, secretly following Marty’s parents around, finding out where they lie in this part of time, and try to find ways into manipulating them together once more in time for Marty and you to get back home. Easy enough, right?

Groaning, Marty goes to slap your hands away weakly, mumbling something along the lines of ‘Just a few more minutes.’ You giggle slapping his hands back in an attempt to wake him up cheerily. Mornings weren’t really your forte either, so any upbeat wake-up is better than a pissy, tired, horrible morning. 

Doc, on the other hand, was happy to return the affection, getting out of bed to give a quick hug and kiss to the forehead. Then he makes his way over to the bed, going to tickle Marty’s feet as you go to tickle his sides. Finally, in a fit of laughter, Marty gets up and goes straight for the bathroom. You were going to argue him, having to use the bathroom first, but decide to just leave it be, heading for the makeshift kitchen instead.

You smile fondly as Doc and Marty play around a while later, wrestling about, cracking jokes. It was only just a few hours ago that you and Marty had witnessed the untimely death of the currently very lively man in the house. Witnessing the blood loss, the machine gun in action, and the bullets that whizzed pass with only one malicious intent: to kill. But he’s here now; he’s safe and sound, having many years until that date will arrive.

With the freshly cooked smell of eggs, toast, and pancakes, the boys straighten up, Doc clearing his throat in an attempt to organize himself, and Marty leaving his shirt ruffled as he follows the smell of deliciousness. You giggle as both men of different ages act exactly the same, piling their plates high and digging in, giving thanks through mouthfuls.

///LATER///

After breakfast had finished, you and Marty made your way to the school, not wanting to be late, and, quite frankly, not wanting to miss a second in the disaster we’re in, wanting to fix it as soon as possible. Upon entering, the building erupts in laughter, tears, screaming, perfume, cologne, aftershave, and lots and lots of both testosterone and estrogen. Fucking high school, you smile.

Going to “your locker” right besides “Marty’s,” you both place the books and supplies that are unneeded inside it and take only the things you need for the first two classes, somehow having those together. As Marty catches glimpse of his father, George McFly, he winks at you, moving to catch up to him. Rolling your eyes playfully, you turn back towards your locker, just barely missing a group of young men some ways down the hallway, locking eyes with a particularly taller man, towering almost everyone in the halls.

You pay no mind, however, being blindsided by three girls your age. Instantly, you recognize the one right in front as Lorraine, Marty’s mother. Smiling nervously, your cheeks tint only a little, being unprepared to see her so quickly, not yet having a plan made up on how you could help tackle the situation with Marty.

“Hiya! I’ve never seen you before, are you new here? I’m Lorraine Baines, and you are?” she asks cheerfully, her books clasped tightly to her chest.

Taking an obnoxiously long time staring dumbfounded, you finally realize you haven’t spoken, quickly recovering with newfound purpose and confidence, “Ah, yes! I am new here! Sorry, I’m just trying to get used to this place a tiny bit. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Well that’s quite alright, you can come with us!” she says once more in a cheery tone, taking you by the arm and lacing her arm around yours, locked elbows. You smiled, knowing exactly where Marty’s cheerful and people-person nature had come from. Walking down the halls, she had asked for my schedule, checking classes to see what we had together, “English, History, and Agriculture- Hey! You should try out for cheer leading!” 

Shaking your head lightly, “Nah, I’m more of a Y/C/S myself to be frank.”

“But...We don’t have that sport here? There are no girls sports at all actually...” Lorraine says confused. You go to cover it up, choosing to say it was a sport you play for fun at home, in the backyard. However, a beefy arm separates you momentarily from her, as the owner of the harm moves to pin her to the lockers.

You were going to walk away, figuring it was some sort of make-out session in the works, but upon looking at her before going, you notice that the man was absurdly unwanted. 

“Get your meathooks off me Biff!” she screams at the man, his huge form towering her much smaller one. Not taking the message, the pair continue to squabble, neither of them being successful in winning. The warning bell sounds over the halls and classrooms, alarming kids to get their asses moving, but it seems whoever this dick is, he feels he is greater than the school, and god forbid, knowledge.

“Hey, you do realize your not making a damn bit a difference, right? She’s not interested! And, quite frankly, it seems as if no one does! Now, if you don’t mind, could you please be kind enough to unhand her as some of us treasure a piece of mind and how to take a hint?” you finish, quite ticked off as the last bell warns, cursing under your breath as you already know your in for detention on the first day.

It finally seems that he’d caught a grip, thankfully, letting go of Lorraine’s arm and she quickly scurries out of his proximity, taking your hand to lead you to the class you both needed to be in. As you go to walk in, you are stopped by the teacher, scolding both you and Lorraine. Looking at her regrettably, she smiles defeated. So you decide to do what’s right, take the fall.

“I’m sorry sir, I didn’t know where to go as I was trying to find where all of my classes were before I ended up lost every time classes switch. I caught up to Lorraine here at some point, and as she was hurrying to this class, she was kind enough to show me where I needed to be,” you finish, sighing guiltily.

“Well, as you’ve taken acknowledgment to your mistake, then you’d be just as happy with detention. After school, on Friday, as the first week is extremely busy. As for you, Miss Baines, thank you for your help. You are off the hook for now,” the older gentleman finishes, nodding to each of you personally before turning around and beginning just one of the classes you’d have today. This is going to be fun!

///LATER///

Finally, after grueling hours of just a few of your classes, lunchtime had came round, giving you a slight break. Catching sight of Lorraine, you smile and wave, going in the direction of Marty, or Calvin Klein, as you’d heard Lorraine go on and on about. You’d known it was him the second she’d said it, the brand not yet known to man yet; or at least in this timeline, it wasn’t.

As time had went on, it was only natural for the peace to be broken, as a newly familiar face was starting to appear more and more, Biff Tannen, as you’d known his name by now. But, instead of heading towards Lorraine, he makes his way over to the table you were residing with George and Marty, sitting himself right beside you. 

At first, you were trying to ignore him, knowing his presence was there, but keeping your eyes trained on either Marty or George, eyes dancing between the two. Biff, being the everlasting child he was, tried to catch you attention, trying stupid ass things after the other: kicking your shins, pulling your ears of hair, flicking your head, and even trying to tug on the 50′s style dress you’d been forced to wear to play your part. 

Only when he goes to tug your hair once more is when you finally snap, turning a furious glare to the hulking figure beside you, shoving his shoulder in a feeble attempt to create distance. He giggles at this, his body not moving an inch at all. “You can’t be serious right now! You don’t know when to quit it, do you?!” you scream, fed up with his shit.

“Well, if you’d give me the human decency of turning your head when I’m trying to talk to you, then I wouldn’t have to pester you, now would I?” he asks in a teasing tone, no doubt taunting you, but all you do is stare him down, getting lost in a staring contest, daring him to say something again. “Alls I wanted to say was that we have detention together. Just thought I’d let you know since you got me in all that trouble this morning.”  

“Why you-!” And with that, he gets up with a shit-eating grin plastered to his face, prancing out of view and back to the table he and his gang usually sit. Watching the whole interaction, George smirks at Marty, the pair giving an unspoken mutual agreement to whatever they had both caught on to, bursting into fits of laughter moments later. 

“You have a longer tolerance than I do, I-I-I’ll tell you that much,” George says, his usual slight stutter back in place, Marty laughing once more. As George joins in again, you couldn’t fight it either, giving into the childish antics.

///LATER///

To say your week had gotten any better than the first day was a lie. It hadn’t gotten any better, and your meetings with Biff at lunch had only gotten all the more common and all the more infuriating. He’d made it his duty to agitate you in any ways possible, even resulting in whispering something nagging in your ear when you weren’t paying attention, usually doing something in your locker.

Either way, he was on the countdown to Friday, it being constantly on his mind, mentally counting down the days, hours, minutes, and even seconds until the two of you were locked in a room alone.

Unfortunately, that day had seemed to come way faster than you’d like, Friday rolling around quite quickly. School had finished, and you were making your way to the front office, awaiting a tiring 2 hours with only yourself and Biff as company for the time being. You hadn’t known where the room was, and instead of spending time looking for it, you gave up and looked for the office instead, the nice front desk lady leading you where you needed to go.

Upon entering the room, there was Biff in his prime, casually spread across his chair, legs crossed atop his desk nearest the windows. Sighing, you ignore him, deciding to sit on the opposite side of him, the front desk lady giving you a sympathetic smile before she closes the door behind her. You look at the wall, head turned away from him like the plague.

You knew it’d only last so long until he’d speak, the time coming way faster than you pleased. Given it was Friday, you couldn’t even do homework or even study in order to block him out as he started to blabber, running his mouth over stupid shit once more. Inhaling through your nose, and exhaling through your mouth slowly, you straighten in your seat, hands clutching the desk so tight, your fists turned white. 

“Biff, Sweetheart, Baby, Doll Face, Hun. Please. PLEASE. Shut up for five god damn seconds. I know you truly have nothing to say, so why do you insist on speaking so much?” you finally say, hands prying off the desk to turn in his direction exasperated. 

“Well, if you’d just talk to me, Shortcake, I wouldn’t have much to say at random,” he answers, copying your actions and posture. With this change in childish demeanor, you give in, laughing at him in an unexpected rush, running your hands through your hair tiredly. 

Although you hadn’t seen it, he’d smiled in satisfaction upon seeing you laugh, the glitter in your eyes much more captivating than it ever was when he looked at Lorraine. He hadn’t barely pestered her since you’d barreled into his life. It was weird, but he welcomed it with open arms. And for the first time, he learned what it was like to have an actual, clammy-handed, closed throat, warm, cheek-tinted, teenage crush. A crush that left his heartbeat loud and fast, breathing ragged and uneven, and his behavior out of character and out of his control. Lorraine was way under whatever level he’d placed you on, holding you up on a pedestal like you were the sun or sky.

Of course, you hadn’t taken notice to his antics, just thinking he was annoying. Just Biff being his notorious self. But, as you finally calm your breathing down, the giggles fading, you decide to give him a chance, knowing that sitting in silence is just going bore you. Smiling warmly, you say, “So what do you want to talk about then?��� 

///LATER///

Grabbing your bag, you get out of your seat, giggling at a story Biff had told you. He follows your lead as well, getting his own as he lets out a bark of laughter at a certain part. You guys looked like idiots as you shoved each other down the halls, making your way out of the school as your detention had came to a close. Sighing as the warm sun radiated on your skin with the light, spring breeze, you stretch out any kinks the classroom chairs and desks had left. Biff watched you intently, your small body easily swallowed by his shadow beside you.

The sun was setting and it was getting late, although you weren’t concerned. The boys knew you wouldn’t be home ‘til late due to the detention you had initially despised. Now, you and Biff were side by side, walking peacefully to his car in the school’s parking lot. For once, he was quiet, great company to have. It was something else for sure, but you enjoyed it. As you came up towards Doc’s place, you’d realized that Biff had drove you home like a gentleman, too lost in the conversation to notice earlier on. 

Sheepishly, you itch the back of your neck, realizing your mistake and feeling guilty for making him walk all this way to now have to walk all the way home. “Ah- Sorry...I didn’t realize I’d dragged you all the way out here. Now you have to drive all the way back.”

“It’s no problem, really. I liked it. It’s nice to talk to someone other than the guys every now and then. And to have A female speak to me instead of screaming,” he answers, now being the one who is a bit shy.

“You do know that you bring that on yourself right?” you say teasingly, now leaning your head on your hands, propped up on the passenger side door. “Not every girl would want to kick you in the groin if you showed a little more respect, “ you finish off with a smile.

“Yeah...Yeah I know. I’ll try harder, I swear.”

“That’s all I ask,” you say with a wink, drumming your hands on the door as you take a step back, waving as you start walking down Doc’s driveway.

“Hey!” Biff calls from the car, stopping you in your tracks to turn around, facing him with a smile. “Uhm- Well- The Enchantment Under the Sea Dance is coming up next week...Would you mind being my date?” he asks, stuttering as he feels his cheeks heat up, nervous as hell.

“I’d love to!” you answer, turning back around to walk into the house. Biff does a little fist bump as he puts the car back in gear, excited for what is to come.

///

Marty was a little less than amused with this newfound knowledge once entering the door and going over the events of the day. It was only when Doc had suggested that the date with Biff would keep him away from Lorraine, giving George the freeway to attract her long enough for their True Love’s Kiss. Then, and only then, did Marty give the okay, shaking his head, but liking the fact that it’ll give George some time, being the nerd that you know and love.

///Enchantment Under the Sea Dance///

Checking yourself over in the mirror for the final time, you let out a nervous yet satisfied sigh, feeling like an absolute princess. You never minded dresses too much, although you couldn’t deny the fact that normal pair of shorts, jeans, or even leggings were your first choice. All that mattered was that you liked the dress you were wearing, it fit you; it was your favorite color, length, and strap(less) type to hold everything in.

Walking out, you grab the pair of heels to match, knowing that you couldn’t get away with sneakers in this generation, painfully grimacing at the reminder. Finally standing, you recount when you had gotten the dress just a few days ago, having gone with Lorraine and the her two friends, Babs and Betty. They were very endearing and supportive the whole time, you not having to worry about being “to picky” as they were just the same. You ended up loving the dress given that you’d taken the time without pressure.

As you walked into the main room of the garage, you heard a low whistle of Marty, Doc slapping him on the back of the head for it. Giggling, you curtsy and spin in the dress. Doc, the gentleman he always was, compliments you, “You look amazing, my dear. Let’s hope this boy deserves it, hmm?” 

As an answer, you hug him tightly, knowing that, by the end of the night, he will be nothing but a dead man at home, in a lonely, dark parking lot. Your eyes tear up just at the mere thought of it, clutching him tighter. Marty seems to be on the same wavelength, going to interrupt the moment with great urgency, trying to pass him a piece of paper.

“Marty, if this has anything that involves my future, do not. And I repeat, DO NOT try to hand it to me. Whatever happens, happens young man. That’s how the world works,” he says in a warning tone. You wanted to disagree, but you knew the truth that was laced beneath it, as if it was a punishment. You whimper instead, pulling him in tighter; Marty looking down in defeat, soon switching to anger. In the midst of it, he storms out of the garage, getting in the car to go pick up who you’d hope was Lorraine for the dance.

“Just let him go...” you start, sadness evident, “He’s just not very happy with the outcome of what the future has in store for you. Quite frankly, neither am I.”

“I’m sure whatever the outcome is, that I wanted to go with it, dear. I assure you, I’m fine,” Doc answers in a consoling tone, wiping the tears that had slipped from your eyes. You knew it was just a mask, no one wants death, but you knew he needed to go no matter how much you hated it. So you nod, not having to say much more as a honk sounds from outside.

“That’s Biff...” 

“Have a great time! Make sure the McFlys kiss!” Doc screams, following out of the garage, scolding Biff from behind you.

“Yes sir!” you scream back, saluting him as you take a seat in the passenger.

///

“You look beautiful Y/N,” Biff says after a while, finally working up the courage to speak.

“Thank you Biff. And you look handsome yourself,” you giggle, the car pulling into the lot. 

He shuts the engine, grabbing his keys from the ignition and closing the door, making his way around to you as you let yourself out to straighten yourself out. He takes your hand as he leads you to the entrance of the dance, you sighing in relief as you catch a glimpse of Marty pulling up in a car with Lorraine. Finally, you relax, grasping on Biff a little lighter and with more meaning now as you have the night to yourselves. He smiles down at you as you wrap your arm within his, something Lorraine does with you quite often.

With the party in full blast, you let loose with the music, dancing and joking around with Biff. At some point, however, he says he needs a drink and will be right back. Although, he doesn’t seem to actually come back. You’d thought you’d seen him spiking the punch just as few moments ago.

Just as you were going to in the direction of the hallways to the rest of the school, you notice Match, one of Biff’s friends, storming out of the gym through an exit. Taking your bets, you follow behind him, soon being greeted by a huge commotion of screams, all of them from familiar people. Biff was in a car with Lorraine, her dress pulled and taken off in parts. He was no doubt about to do something stupid, the fact pissing you off, saddening you in some ways as well.

The others that were screaming were also George and Marty, the pair trying to get Biff to stop before he regrets it. He doesn’t listen, unfortunately, until your voice booms over the rest, “Biff!” 

His head snaps instantly in your direction, the situation dawning on him the instant he looks at your face. You hadn’t meant to portray your emotions so clearly, but your face had shown such distraught and hurt. He lied. He had gotten over Lorraine, yet the moment she was alone, he runs right back to her.

With his momentary change of focus, George finally steps in, “You get your filthy hands off of her!” finishing with a blow to the jaw that knocks Biff off balance. 

Marty looks to you sadly, but tries to smile in cheers as George and Lorraine leave together, motioning that he was going to follow them just in case. You nod, looking down now as your play with your fingers. You didn’t know what to do now as the only reason you were really here was for Biff. You weren’t needed for Lorraine and George, you knew Marty had it.

You decide to make your way home then, as there was nothing else you could do. Dances were just drags anyway, nothing worth while. “Your just going to leave? Just like that?” asks a deep voice, his body having gotten back off the pavement and stood by the car he was pinned against.

Without turning, you answer his question with another, “Why not? There’s nothing left here for me is there?”

“And why wouldn’t there be?” Biff asks once more, no doubt ticking you off at his usual teasing tone.

“Well, let’s see. You. You asked me to the dance as your plus one. I came here as your date. We have a good time, we dance, we talk, and then you come up with an ‘Oh I need a drink’ charade, not returning. Then, I come to find my date in the parking lot, about to get his licks in on a woman he was apparently over with! So tell me, what is left here for men here, Biff?” you finish, tears pooling your eyes over the time, although you don’t let the fall, keeping them there.

He looks guilty, you can see it, but you don’t care. Your not in the wrong this time. But, as your blood starts to cool down, you do notice the look in his eyes, the change in his demeanor, and the utter remorse that has overcome him. He has his head down, fists clenched at his sides, body stock still. He doesn’t know what to do, all he knows is that he’d fucked up.

“Or was this your fabulous way of telling me that you love me?” you finally ask, eyes moving to look up at him in a teasing manner.

He hadn’t expected you to speak, head snapping up to meet your gaze in confusion. Being as you’d looked at him with a glint in your eyes, he finally lets everything click together; you’d forgiven him. His face heats up in bashfulness however, as your words resonated within him as well, hand going to itch the back of his neck again.

You giggle, walking up to him now, hands going to his collar. Pulling him down, he gazes at you in amazement, his own hands falling to rest on your waist. Then, you crash your lips to his, pulling him ever closer. It takes him a moment to get the hang of it, soon pulling you closer to himself as well. Lifting you slightly, he sets you on the hood of his car, the height difference a definite stretch for him. But he wouldn’t have it any other way, you were perfect. Just the same as he was perfect for you.

[dameronology]

love in a time of p.t.a meetings {marcus moreno}

one shot #3 - 4am

summary: you’re used to it just being you & your kid, and you’re even more used to taking on the world on your own when it gets hard - so, it’s difficult to let marcus in, even when he wants to help {series masterlist}

warnings: parenting themes, very brief mentions of loss, probably the nearest thing you’ll ever get to angst in this series and it’s not even angst 

sorry about the huge gaps between the one shots!! life is v hectic at the moment and i am running around like a headless chicken 24/7. what a vibe. enjoy :) 

- jazz xx

Things had been going smoothly - too smoothly. 

That meant it was only a matter of time before your mini demon child decided to kick up a fuss and do something completely, irretrievably wild. He’d done it before - there had been the fire incident, the shaving the dog incident, the you can’t re-enact the final scene from Revenge of the Sith with pencils incident. You’d taken them all in your stride and tried to learn from them; what else could you do, other than roll with the punches in life? Nobody was born knowing how to parent and you had to constantly remind yourself that. 

But this? This was fucking exhausting. Jack’s sudden refusal to sleep was absolutely kicking the life out of you. And even though he seemed to enjoy living in the Moreno house, you couldn’t help but feel your big move had been something to do with it. You were plagued with guilt at the thought of ripping him away from his childhood home, despite the fact he’d been excited to live with Marcus and Missy. You knew it was all in your head but still, his sudden misbehaviour was really bad for your guilty conscience. It was one thing having your parenting questioned by the minivan mums on the playground but something else entirely when it came from your own mind. 

‘Jack, please!’ You reached out for him, pulling him off his bed and forcing him to lay down. ‘It is 4am. Go to sleep!’

‘No!’ He thwacked your arms away. ‘I don’t want to!’

This was the fifth night in the row that he had refused to sleep. Whether it was loudly banging on the walls or playing Life Is a Highway at full volume from his iPad, the little human had taken it upon himself to deprive the entire family of sleep. Normally, you could have handled it (just about, at least) - but work had been beyond busy and with the loss of an elderly family member, everything was beginning to pile up on your shoulders.

‘I cannot do this tonight!’ You tried to suppress your frustration. ‘Jack, please.’

You didn’t want to cry. They weren’t even tears of sadness, more tears of frustration. Frustration that you couldn’t seem to get through to your own kid, and frustration that he wouldn’t listen. You were sleep deprived as fuck and it was out of your control. The temptation to wave your white flag and let Jack have what he wanted was almost overwhelming. 

‘I don’t want to sleep!’ He yelled. ‘I don’t have to do as you say!’

‘Fine!’ You flapped your hands in the air. ‘I’m done, Jack. Do whatever the hell you want.’

Tossing the stormtrooper you were holding to the floor, you turned your back and stalked out the room, shutting it behind you. 

Your back hit the wood with a thud as you slid down it, the formidable pressure on your shoulders finally prolapsing. You rested your head in your hands, letting out a silent cry. Fuck, you hadn’t cried in ages. Most of the time, you were immune to the absolute craziness that came with your child, but you just needed a break. It had just been you and him for so long that you were used to handling it all on your own and you hadn’t had a day off since he was born. Even when his dad had been in the picture, you’d still practically been a single parent. Doing it on your own was all you ever knew. 

You hadn’t even realised that Marcus had come to sit beside you; not until you felt a warm pair of hands on your shoulders, and the softness of his pyjama shirt against you. For a man who had been losing as much sleep as you and running a superhero team, he was surprisingly with it. His ability to hold his shit together was astounding. 

‘I am so sorry.’ You murmured. ‘His behaviour has been bad but not this bad.’

‘You don’t have to apologise, sweetheart.’ He replied. ‘Kids are stubborn as hell.’

‘It’s not even that.’ You sniffed. ‘It’s just that he won’t listen. And I’m the one person he should fucking listen to.’

‘You don’t have to have the solution to everything.’ Marcus reminded you. He gently wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. 

‘What if it’s my fault?’ You leant further against his side. ‘What if me uprooting him from the apartment messed him up?’

‘No decision as a parent is easy.’ He said. ‘Especially not ones like that, but you did what’s best for you and him and that’s all you can do. It’s a lot of change for you both but it was the right choice, I promise you.’

‘Maybe.’ You murmured. ‘It’s just...I’ve always been his only parent. Like I am single-handedly responsible for the way he turns out and I do not want to accidentally screw up.’

Marcus softly chuckled. ‘It’s gonna take a lot more than you moving house for him to be a screw up - besides, I’m here to help now too.’

You peered up at him. ‘You don’t have to deal with his shit.’

‘Maybe I want to.’

‘Yeah, but you don’t have to.’

He thinned his eyes at you. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Nothing.’

Marcus moved his arms from you, shuffling around so that you were facing each other. He had a way of holding your gaze that nobody else quite managed; even his brown eyes were tired from exhaustion, he still managed to look right into your fucking soul. Maybe it was part of his job, or maybe he just saw through your bullshit. 

‘Please don’t shut me out.’

You let out a small sigh. ‘I don’t want you to feel like you have to get involved with my kid’s crazy shit. You had a peaceful life before this and-’

‘- I’m not gonna do what his dad did.’ Marcus suddenly cut you off. You could only blink in surprise. ‘I know that’s not you’re saying but it is what you’re saying.’

You’d got got pretty good at your little juggling act over the last five years; it was like you had three balls - Jack, work and everything else the universe had to throw at you. And maybe you weren’t just juggling, but you were doing it on a unicycle. Sometimes it felt like you were going to lose your balance and drop everything, but you’d managed it this far. The idea that Marcus wanted to help you and actually, genuinely had your best interests at heart was an alien idea. You were used to doing everything on your own. 

‘I’m sorry.’ You murmured. ‘We were let down and it’s gonna take time to heal. That’s on me.’

‘No, it’s not.’ Marcus took your hands in his. ‘We’re a family, okay? Nothing is ever going to change that now.’

You gave him a watery smile. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’ 

He stood up, pulling you up with him. 

The fact that not even Marcus and his unusual talents to get your child to behave were working was a testament to Jack’s rough patch. He was normally obedient as hell when it came to listening to him - probably because he was a superhero, you figured. Either way, you both just wanted to sleep. 

Marcus slowly creaked open the door - the sounds of Jack jumping up and down on his bed had stopped, but the godforsaken song from Cars was still blaring in the background. You peered over his shoulder on your tiptoes, trying to get a view at what was going on. By some miracle, the child was now passed out in the middle of the floor. Five nights of no sleep had finally caught up with him, in the same way they were about to catch up with you. 

You gently crept inside and tugged his iPad from his hands, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead. If you moved him from the rug to the bed, you would have woken him; instead, you pulled his blanket from his bed and tucked it over him. 

‘C’mon,’ you took Marcus’ hand as you exited the room. ‘Before we wake the sleeping dragon.’

He tossed an arm across your back, pulling you into his side as you walked down the hallway. 

‘The only person who can wear that kid out is himself.’ He reminded you. ‘Maybe we just need another Jack.’

‘Please don’t give me nightmares.’ 

[nighttimepixels]

TALK TO US ABOUT MASS EFFECT I HAVE BEEN AN INSANE MASS EFFECT/SHAKARIAN TRASH PERSON SINCE 20-FUCKING-11 AND LEMME TELL YOU THOSE FEELINGS HAVENOT TARNISHED A SINGLE FRACTION IN THOSE TEN YEARS OH MY GOOOOOOODDDSSSS!!!!!!!

I DEMAND A PLAY-BY-PLAY UP TO THE MINUTE OF YOUR REACTIONS TO EVERYTHING!!!!

you are so valid and I totally see why everyone I've ever mentioned it to loves the hell out of it

aksdjlsdfj I meannnn if you want to hear my rambling about it then hell yeah

Okay, gonna put this below the cut to save everyone else XD also- since I'm not leaving this Mass Effect obsession anytime soon, if you're not interested in seeing occasional posts about it, please feel free to block the tag "night plays ME"~

(mild spoilers ahead??)

((also for real I mean it when I say this is rambling as hell lol, apologies and no stress if absolute no one reads all this))

OKAY SO Mass Effect 1-

Stars help me, I was honestly hooked right from the start?? Like even in Legendary Edition (the combined trilogy just re-released in one "can play it on one system + minor improvements", for anyone who doesn't know) where it's smoothed out, of course it's obvious that ME1 is a decade old... but the foundation for these relationships are all there and gods I love them already.

Like - Kaiden right off the top is a delightful good fightin lad, what the hell. I've heard that he's viewed as 'bland' by a good portion of the fan community but I dunno, he's a delight and even more complex by the time 2 rolls around and you encounter him on Horizon, it was honestly Ashley I was way more meh about - mostly because before you can learn about her family history/etc, she comes off as hella xenophobic and I was immediately offended for my growing space family that she didn't like/trust all the aliens around, pfff.

(she gets redeemed a bit through further actions/evolving thoughts, but I thought in retrospect it was a bummer that they didn't flip the order there, give her a chance to be liked before the complicating factor of being so rude about aliens >:c that then she could grow from... ah well. Apparently she has a good arc but uh, let's just say I chose Kaiden at the "key junction" in the latter part of the game so I won't be seeing anymore of Ashley uh... anytime soon, haha.)

Garrus??? Is??????? The ABSOLUTE best???????????

I liked him from the start, I'm always a bit of a sucker for a rogue-detective "the system won't bring this bastard to justice, so I've got to" type and all their moral shadiness XD But he just gets better, honestly, and where I'm at in ME2 (right before the Reaper IFF mission, as of typing this, with everyone's loyalty!) I am only digging myself deeper into this hole-

-*wheezing* okay anyways -

Wrex is AMAZING I love fightin' middle-aged krogan bastard, gods. Liara is great too, I'm a sucker for a wlw relationship (playing fem!Shepard, so) - buuuut I'll admit she's a bit more one-note in ME1. Last week while I was still on ME1 I remember hearing (while trying to dodge spoilers) that her arc is really good, though. I think they leaned a little hard on the 'innocent but sexy' sterteotype on her (so despite the yikes aspect of a few of the things I've learned in ME2, lol, I actually really like the complexity that's been added to her character.)

Saved Liara first, so by the time I got to Noveria and had the standoff with Benezia there was the chance to have emotions over Liara having to face her TwT and of course, I made the questionable but quality decision to free Queen Rachni heheh. no ragrets

More than a blow-by-blow of my choices though I totally wanna take the chance to say that even in the mild jankiness of ME1 (goddammit, the Mako.... please..... please just go up this impossible cliff I just want to resource hunt-) the way that the lore, both obvious/key to main plot and the lesser/filler/background/world-building kinds... I just love it. It incorporates it well, you can go ham in the codex learning more, or just dive into the basics - it's clearly a complex galaxy (and they do an even better job in 2 of fleshing it out further), and it never really felt overwhelming. It was pretty natural figuring it all out-!

Plus the interesting implications of resource hunting amongst the sapient races, and the little side missions you better bet I did every one of- there's so much rich depth in the story if you do 'em!! (And that lead with that Keeper side mission...? Looking back, damn, clever foreshadowing-!!!)

And oh my gods, Ilios??? hell yeah. I loved that mission so much, especially having Garrus & Kaiden with me when talking to the hologram/computer, and more than anything, that last sprint in the Mako trying to get to the jump before it closed-???

yeet the boi-

Also mannn I love a good setpiece, and having to go up the side of the elevator, space-side?? such a cool setup!!

Plus it felt good having been Paragon enough (as simple as the good v bad vibe system is, I don't hate it, lol) to avoid one of the Saren fights, ngl. And the er, "second fight" with Sovereign-Saren.... hell yeah

... I'll admit I had to double check my choice re whether to save the Council. I did in the end, but I swear, sometimes the way they phrase things I'm like ".... okay but Garrus is right, defeating Sovereign is more important than these few leaders??????" woops. Listen, priorities, is all I'm saying..... (￣ヮ￣|||)ゞ

'Course later they emphasize (in ME2) that there were 10,000 people on that same ship and I was like well I wouldn't have second guessed if I'd known that, I mean c'mon-

Also I did indeed romance Liara in this one, so I got that scene ;Dc But,,,, I also knew by the end that I was totally gonna romance Garrus in 2 since he's an option then finally,,,,, lemme tell you the guilt as I waffled over whether to romance Liara bc of it. hahaha.

Aaaaand Mass Effect 2-

So I'm only up to right before the Reaper IFF Mission, so I don't know the ending, etc etc lol. That said, I've just finished every side mission I've found with the exception of the Shadowbroker Quest and the Arrival Quest (I've heard the latter basically leads into ME3, and the former is best either right before the Omega 4 jump or in postgame).

So from the start - fuck yeah fuck yeah what a high adrenaline start Shepard noooooo but also yes save Joker aH-

The motion comic too hot damn nice job

I loved this setup, seriously - especially forcing Shep into this situation, having to work with/for Cerberus, and the compelling reasoning given behind "why" they do what they do (I especially found it a good point that the Salarians have the Task Force, the Asaris the Commandos, the Turians the- etc... like, true, when you put it like that, having a similar group advancing human interests/solving human interstellar problems is pretty reasonable...). That said, I love too that it really isn't shied away from how Cerberus is nonetheless fucked up - or its at least done fucked up stuff.

Listen, I still think some messed up stuff is gonna be revealed in 2's endgame......... after that Horizon mission and the Collector's ship???? TIM I SEE YOU YOU SHADY MF-

aaanyways lol...

I'm so so glad on a gameplay level they nixed the Mako style exploration. A few Hammerhead missions are fine and a lot more focused than the slippery ass navigation in that glorified ATV, pfff. The probes are a neat way of getting after similar resources - and more importantly, having good levels and some good hubs (the Zakera Wards, Omega, Ilium, etc) is way way more fun than having a more 'sprawling' space that is.... a lot of empty nonsense, lol.

Then there's the fact that we get Joker right off the bat and you can interact with him so much - and him and EDI??? Get out gods I love them. Kasumi is so right when she says they sound like a bickering old married couple lol. I have a terrible feeling that some shit is gonna happen with EDI..... but I don't think she's evil as-is, at least.

Side-eying the hell out of those "access forbidden" parts of her that she doesn't even know.... and the fact that her AI core has a locked door access................... something's gonna happen gdi LEAVE OUR ADOPTED AI ALONE.

(Also Joker pls stop fracturing your thumb on the mute button)

Also please save me there are so many hot aliens in this game,,,,, the xeno/monsterfuckers really comin' through strong in the sequels............... doin' the lord's work........................................

In general, I love how many levels ME stepped up in two with complexity and interwoven narratives!! Like, to the point it'd be almost a drag to replay ME1, even though it was fun going through it (if occasionally a bit tedious with the cookie cutter rando planet science/mine facilities, lol). Like, just from how fun and interesting ME2 is, mostly! more of all the pre-introduced races, plus new ones, plus more filling in of intragalactic politics, and more interesting implications of all these space-faring races mixing....

Also gods WREX and his planet holy shit,,,,, fuckin' hell yeah my man get their shit together and also adopt Grunt yes good-

And Mordin??? My singing semi-evil scientist best friend forced to confront his choices more than he thought he ever would have???? With some of the best ongoing general report chatter of all the companions??

(when I tell you I choked on my coffee when I talked to him after confirming romance choice w/ Garrus and that 'pamphlet' and 'anaphalactic shot if ingesting-' kajsldkfjsldfjk)

Like, fuck, the fact that they actually dive into the mixed morality and horrors of the genophage, and you can confront Mordin on it, for good reason, yet he still stands his ground, until finally some bits of his loyalty mission seem to... affect him, and I'm guessing might set up things for 3 with him? Unsure, but either way, damn, the fact that they start to dig into it...

And Taliiiii my beloved forbidden alien wife TwT her loyalty mission was SO GOOD. I love how varied they all are?? Getting to defend her and discover what she'd unwittingly been a part of-!!

Zaeed is a bastard but tbh I love that he is and that he's unapologetic in him - and Kasumi omg, best thief. A heist?? Gods, yes- I love our couch lounge chats XD

Samara is..... illegally.......... she's an illegally powerful and beautiful and eloquent MILF...........................

(.... listen I'm sapphic as hell and I'm kicking my own ass for picking her up last aksjdlfksjdfl - but her loyalty mission, damn. And seeing how there's this interesting cultural subset, and the struggle with the Asari in that they unquestioningly accept/respect justicars, but also know that the impact outside their culture is a diplomacy nightmare waiting to happen-)

,.,,,,,T,,, Thane,,,,,

I am weak for morally implicated murder dads okay?? And that voice??? His mannerisms?????? How you first see him, and that prayer after assassinating her...???????? And his history/his people's history with the hanar, gods I love how messy it is, it feels so much more real!

Also Jack is a mess and I love her (and want to get her some therapy, omg), and her and Miranda nearly duking it out after you've done both their loyalty missions??? so good and makes a lot of sense-! Honestly I would love more interactions between teammates on the ship, but there's already so much the devs had to balance I can't blame 'em for minimizing, heh. But suffice to say I also love Miranda and Jacob, even if I'm softest for my alien crew XD Hell yeah Jacob, we'll get loud and spill drinks on the citadel indeed TwT

.... I could write a whole essay on how much I love Garrus oTL Perhaps because he and Tali are the throughlines from 1 on your 2 crew, I have some of the strongest feelings about them... but genuinely, he was one of my favorite companions in the first game, and how you find him as Archangel in two? Getting to help him fight his way out after he's gone nearly 48 hours straight fighting off three gangs alone, jfc. His vengeance quest and what can happen there.... That line? fuck me, that line -

It's so much easier to see the world in black and white. Grey? I don't know what to do with gray...

How DARE you come for my heart like this, devs holy shit

(also, some other choice faves so far from the series from him include We can disobey suicidal orders?? and This wasn't in my training manual... [in 1, if you have him with you @ th Thorian fight] and his whole.... pop the heat sink - in his romance ;Dc)

asdasdfksadjfkl like I said I can write an essay on him PFFF suffice to say I'm very looking forward to his romance scene and where things go in 3

But yeah gods I'm just gonna keep rambling if I'm not careful lol. Gods I don't even know what to talk about it's all so good and while I can understand people roasting the obviousness of Paragon V Renegade (v neutral) choices/alignments, I think they do a pretty damn good job in 2 of pushing it further - to the point that there were some times that I accidentally got renegade points and I wasn't that mad, haha. There's so much fun in the interactions that I just have a good time anyways~

I have so many thoughts about TIM (The Illusive Man) and Cerberus.... theories evolving galore............... and like, what the hell!! Omega 4 going to the center of the galaxy is such a cool twist, goddamn - though my heart still breaks at losing Kaiden (his line if you haven't romanced him?? about feeling like he lost a limb when he lost you??? holy shit.... but I also can't blame him for not trusting Cerberus to the point of it affecting his ability to trust Shepard... like fuck Shep go after himmmm) I'm really excited to see where that goes since he comes back in 3, and what the fuck happens with Cerberus bc while I love the fact that obviously there are a lot of people in it for the right reasons, doing good work, there are those that are doing the opposite, and I have a very bad feeling about where TIM will end up landing....

All that said though I need to do the Reaper IFF mission (where I'm lightly spoiled as to getting That Boy, but not how/what happens to make it so - just that it's apparently wise to have all your side missions done before getting him...) and the actual Omega 4 jump. So we'll see what happens and what I think about it from there heheh!

.... major kudos and genuine props if you made it here to the end, I am so sorry for not editing on condensing all this, and appreciate you so much ;w;

[pallasperilous]

Occursus

Castiel/Dean Winchester Gen/Teen, 4341 words 15x20 coda  AO3 version “The natural environment of the human soul is a human body,” Cas says. “Humans have yet to meet a foreign substrate that they don’t immediately attempt to colonize. My form in Hell was not an exception.” 

Then he shuts his mouth very deliberately and gestures back to Dean like his mic is going live in three, two. “Or the bit where my soul gave you some kind of STD?” Dean finishes. “It was a poor analogy. I apologize.” “So what’s a better one?” Castiel drums his fingers for a second. “It’s more like…the way a parasitic jewel wasp injects a cockroach with venom, and transforms it into a willing host for wasp larvae.” “Holy shit are you ever bad at this,” Dean says, with that signature brand of fond horror he special-orders just for Castiel, Angel of the Gourd.

It’s half past midnight by the time Dean gets another run at Cas.

Granted, what the fuck does half past midnight even mean here, where time is as free as tap water? Why does anybody even bother? For all it matters, Dean could set his watch to eleventy minutes past twenty o’ nope and still never miss last call.

Then again, somebody felt it necessary to invent the idea of Tuesday in the first place, and Dean’s not gonna volunteer himself for the task of replacing it with something better. What’s important is that he’s survived (or rather, he hasn’t survived) a battery of poignant moments and tearful reunions. He and Sam hugged out burdens registering in the triple digits. They even had a little fight, pretty much for the fun of it, while Ellen fucking Harvelle watched them over the bar with her eyes shining. She still charged them, though.

Right at the beginning of the party Dean and Castiel had their eyes-across-the-room thing, followed by the same magnetic, exhausted embrace they’ve shared on just about every plane of reality now. Dean supposes he could ask Cas for a nickel tour of the Empty just so they could hit for the cycle, but he’d really rather not. Sam let them eke out a few gruff, tear-choked monosyllables before diving in, sweeping Cas up in a bear hug and laughing like a fucking kid. Dean doesn’t push it, because it’s been longer for Sam, after all. Or something.

 And now it’s quiet, just the jukebox and the clink of glasses back in the kitchen, a few folks murmuring in booths. It might be dark outside, it might not; it’s waiting on Dean’s opinion before it commits to anything. And so is Cas, who is standing in the warm glow of the jukebox, hands in his pockets.

 Dean walks up, leans against it, bottle still dangling from one hand.

“C’mon, sunshine. I’ll show you yours, you show me mine.”

Cas looks up and into Dean’s eyes with the wary, elegant patience of a deer. “What is it that you would be showing me, Dean?”

Dean gives him a long, languid blink and bites his lip, and Castiel lags for half a second before rolling his own eyes. “I see death hasn’t refined your sense of humor.”

“Nope. Guess the billionth time aint the charm.”

Cas remains stonefaced, which means a corresponding you dumbass blush starts crawling up the sides of Dean’s neck. The jukebox switches records like it’s making a suggestion.

“I’m gonna sit down outside,” Dean says. “C’mon and sit down with me. There’s a patio somewhere, right? Ellen was always talking about adding one out back. No way she hasn’t bossed somebody into buildin’ it.”

“There’s a patio,” Cas says, taking his hands out of his pockets.

 Heaven’s patio is pretty nice; twenty square feet, some scattered picnic tables, fences covered in ivy and string lights. It still smells like fresh pine boards. There’s even a fire pit, which seems kinda bougie for the Roadhouse, but hell with it, it’s warm and pretty, and since when did pretentious people get to lay claim to “a hole with a fire in it”? There’s no moon overhead, and so the Milky Way is giving them the full monty — the runnelled spine of it, the ribcage packed with galaxies.

“Are they all alive?” Dean asks. The warmth from inside leaks out of his collar, wisps away.

“Who?”

Dean points up. “The stars. They always make a big deal about how most of the stars you can see from Earth have been dead for millions of years by the time we get the light from ‘em. That still true here? Or is everything on auto-renewal?”

“That’s a very complicated question,” Cas says, not looking up, only at Dean. He does that a lot, Dean knows, but it turns out to mean something different than what Dean had always assumed, which was ironically pretty similar to what it actually meant, but was reassuringly unactionable and therefore unfuckupable.

“I’m a very complicated guy,” Dean says.

Castiel smiles at that. “I don’t actually know the answer,” he admits. “And it would take an extremely long time to investigate. There are some other things I’d rather do first.”

“What, you can’t just call the kid for directory assistance?”

Castiel lets a good-humored sigh. “Like many young people these days, Jack prefers to avoid the phone.”

This is a solid riff, and Dean respects it. He picks the table closest to the fire and takes a bench and Cas sits next to him, instead of opposite. Dean thought he managed to break him of this habit a few years ago, but here all things are made whole again.

“So what,” Cas says, without a single molecule of playfulness or seduction, “is it that you want us to show each other?”

“Yeah, I was…it was a dumb joke. But I mean it, just not in a ‘playing doctor’ way.”

Castiel frowns, tightens his lips; the firelight throws a fluttering shadow across his face.

“I mean…Christ.” Dean takes a medicinal slug of his dwindling beer. “I don’t really look like this anymore either, right?” And he gestures at his usual shitshow personal presentation, which death has also noticeably failed to refine.

Castiel frowns, smoothes his hand across the surface of the table. “This is a corporeal world, Dean. It operates on a different set of rules, but your body here is no more of an illusion than it was on earth.”

“Seriously?” Dean ponders a second, squints through the dim light at his fingernails, at the high-resolution grime contained therein. “Jesus, that sounds like a lot of work. At least compared to Holodeck Heaven.”

“It is. But we didn’t build this place to be a...a…doorprize. It’s a real world,” Castiel enthuses, looming forward. “It’s the one that should have been created for all of you in the first place.” He pauses, glances down. “For all of us.”

Dean shrugs. “Okay, so no holograms. I’ll keep all that in mind next time Charlie tries to convince me to go skydiving.”

Castiel snorts, but not in pure aggravation, so Dean feels like he’s finally got a point on the board. “What I’m sayin’ is…physical or not, this place has different rules, right? So could I look at you without my eyeballs exploding? The…you know, the angel parts of you. Not just your vessel,” and Dean fwippies his hand at Cas to indicate that true beauty is contained within and Dean is completely indifferent to the fact this dork-ass alien managed to bodysnatch a guy who’s never dipped below an 8.5.

“It isn’t a vessel anymore. We can create our own bodies, now.”

“Peachy,” Dean clips, because that shit is a little late coming off the line.

Castiel sighs. “You could see me in that form without coming to harm. But you should know that I don’t consider it any more a reflection who I am than this form. Not anymore.”

Dean rolls the bottle towards him, nudges a knuckle. “You’re a real boy now, huh?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Castiel says, and smiles a smile so small that Dean would need a microscope to figure out if it’s pleased or pained.

So Dean thwacks the bottle down on the totally-real table and claps his totally-real hands. “Well then let’s go. Hit me with that angel weirdness. If we’re gonna do this, I gotta taste all thirty-one flavors.”

Castiel smiles a little more convincingly, but it still doesn’t reach his eyes. “There are really only the two,” he says, and holds his palms out to the warmth of the fire.

“Great, then we’ll be done in time to catch Letterman. Then if you’re good maybe you can help me shimmy out of this thing.”

Cas cocks his head. “Out of which thing?”

“This super real heavenly meat-suit, dude. It’s not fair if only one of us gets naked. Peep show has to go both ways. I see your angel-face, you see my soul.”

Cas looks stricken, like Dean is asking to suck on his toes next to a playground. “I mean, unless that’d fuck you up,” Dean adds.

“No,” Castiel replies, a little absently. “It wouldn’t fuck me up. But it…wouldn’t really accomplish anything, either.”

“What, no soul kink? That’s bullshit and you know it. You love this crap.”

Castiel replies, “Your soul is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” with the easy confidence of a regular latte order. With the same uncanny, 2 Blessed 2 B Stressed face he had when Dean plowed Ruby’s knife hilt-deep into Jimmy Novak’s sternum, that he had when the Empty collapsed him  like a carcass in an acid bath.

That face shuts Dean right the fuck up, because it sends him skipping backwards into that fucking basement, where his phone is buzzing and the gritty concrete chill of the floor is seeping through his jeans into the useless meat of his legs and leeching into the hot, wet channels of his piece of shit heart.

Turns out you can work up a good little panic attack in heaven, which seems like a significant oversight.

From a million miles away he feels Cas’s warm, dry palm slide over the back of his hand –– there’s a ring there now that Dean lost down a motel sink drain ages ago, is nobody spotting continuity errors here?—then Cas’s hand tightens on his and it feels like a Xanax kicking in. (The good kind, direct from the hot nurse with the little paper cup, not the kind you get in a from a shady burnout at a truckstop, that’s been ground up with baking soda or benadryl and carefully remolded, as if you could possibly give that much of a shit when you’re freaking out bad enough to buy Xanax at a truckstop.)

Point being, he calms the fuck down.

Cas has good hands. They can do a lot of impressive shit, and they look nice doing it. They don’t look like –– they’ve never looked like –– they belong to somebody whose main job is destroying people, places, or things. They’re hands that how to play the cello, or make tables from reclaimed wood, or give soapy, encompassing handjobs in the shower on cold evenings.

“It’s been years, though,” Dean rasps, not looking up yet. “I was a kid when you got me out of Hell, Cas. I’ve done a lot of shit since then. Maybe souls get stretch marks.”

Castiel’s hand tightens on his, clamps it down on the table. “I’ve always been able to see it.”

“Okay,” Dean mumbles, but Cas keeps on going –

“The only time I couldn’t see any part of your soul was when I was without grace, and I promise you that was one of the greatest deprivations imaginable.”

Dean snorts, looks away, but his hand is still on lockdown. “Worse than going hungry, huh?”

“Much.”

“Hey, what about Sam? Or, hell, fucking Donatello. They both were both walking around minus their creamy filling, and you didn’t say boo.”

Cas shrugs. “I can’t see their souls under ordinary circumstances.”

“So what, mine’s just extra loud, or day-glo, or what?”

“It’s both of those things, but that isn’t why,” Cas answers, and the boy is downright wry.

Dean tugs his hand out, raps his knuckles against the wood. “Okay, so stop bein’ coy and tell me before I get a complex. And if you say it’s because of love or some shit, I’m bailing to Rowena’s.”

“You infected me,” Cas says.

“Uh,” says Dean.

The fire pops and a log shifts; Cas glances over at the kerfuffle, absently lifts his fingers to his chin like he’s looking for an old scar. “In Hell, when I retrieved you…I had to grip your raw soul. I was meant to wear a gauntlet, so I wouldn’t be burned.”

Dean snickers. “You’re telling me you were supposed to be wearing a soul condom. What happened, you get too excited and forget to suit up? It’s okay, I know I’m a lot to take in.”

Castiel purses his lips. “No, I was properly armored. But my arm was torn off in combat shortly before I reached you.”

“Ouch.”

“Ouch,” Cas agrees. “I didn’t have time to retrieve the arm or its protection from the pit, so I had to grow a new one very quickly.”

Dean really should’ve switched to whiskey before starting this. “What, you didn’t pack a spare?” He wheezes.

“Ordinarily, yes, I would have had the resources, but I was equipped very lightly for that mission. It was a raid, not a siege. You understand the difference.”

“Sure, yeah, you left your emergency arms in the trunk. So you just popped out a new one. No big.”

“It was a big. Your soul was close enough that it forced me to grow a human arm, instead of a much quicker and more powerful extensor.”

“Okay, uh,” Dean pinches at the bridge of his nose, “there’s a lot to unpack there.”

“What part of it confuses you?”

“I dunno, the bit where apparently angels are I guess heavenly octopuses,”

“The plural in the Greek is octopodes,” Cas interjects, not without pleasure.

Dean glowers. “Or the part where you can apparently swap in different drill bits,” Dean continues,

“Mm,” Cas notes, careful not to open his mouth,

“Or that I, like, accidentally bullied you into growing a person arm,” and Dean pauses for breath here, which Cas evidently takes as permission to dive in with more Planet Earth commentary.

“The natural environment of the human soul is a human body,” he says. “Humans have yet to meet a foreign substrate that they don’t immediately attempt to colonize. My form in Hell was not an exception.” Then he shuts his mouth very deliberately and gestures back to Dean like his mic is going live in three, two.

“Or the bit where my soul gave you some kind of STD?” Dean finishes.

“It was a poor analogy. I apologize.”

“So what’s a better one?”

Castiel drums his fingers for a second, listens to the fire pop in its little cage. “It’s more like…the way a parasitic jewel wasp injects a cockroach with venom, and transforms it into a willing host for wasp larvae.”

“Holy shit are you ever bad at this,” Dean says, with that signature brand of fond horror he special-orders just for Castiel, Angel of the Gourd.

“What I’m trying to avoid saying,” Castiel sighs, “is that you rubbed off on me.”

Dean nods. “Yeah. That’s fair. I wouldn’t be dumb enough to say that around me, either.”  He lays a couple little pats on Cas’s hand. “Lookit you, though, seeing around that corner. I’m proud of you, man. That would’ve totally flipped your breaker back in the day.”

“Just one of the many ways you have reshaped me, Dean,” Cas says, with warm sarcasm.

“Alright, so you rawdogged me, I whammied you. Chocolate, peanut butter, peanut butter, chocolate.”

Cas’s forehead wrinkles in skepticism. “I still prefer the cockroach. But some part of your soul injected itself into one of my more exposed frequencies. Under different circumstances, I would’ve stopped and excised the affected area before it spread, but. I was being pursued, and the mission had taken much longer than any of us anticipated.”

“Us? Thought it was just you down there.”

Cas looks vaguely offended, straightens and folds his arms like he just remembered he’s giving a deposition. “No, of course not. Michael assigned sixty-six angels in eleven groups of six, each escorted to the field by a seraph. We struck simultaneously at six different areas in perdition. From there we dispersed to individual targets –– to cause as much chaos as possible in order to help obscure the object of our mission, and to increase the odds that one of us would actually find you.”

“And you were the lucky winner.” Dean pushes down a touch of sick shame at the thought of it — he’d been coiled up like a snake around somebody else’s torment, anesthetized by it. It was one of the random rags of infernal time where his own pain decreased in proportion to how much he dealt out, and that was the closest thing Hell had to a Friday night.

“I was,” Castiel nods. “I took some liberties with my assignment,” he adds, squinting. “I flattered myself that I shared a special affinity with The Righteous Man.”

“That guy always sounded like kind of a cunt to me,” Dean notes. “You know, not withstanding the fact that I’m him.”

Castiel shrugs. “I found you, and I did what was necessary to save you, and my siblings did what was necessary to save me.” A little falter enters his voice. “Only twelve of us returned from that mission.” Cas looks up, out, away. A dove coos somewhere nearby of the Roadhouse; did it have a run-in with the windshield of an eighteen wheeler one day and show up here, Dean wonders, or does heaven make its own birds from scratch? That’s gotta be a softball compared to whether Betelgeuse is still open for business.

Castiel waits until the bird shuts up, then says, “Of those twelve surviving angels, I personally murdered nine, in everything that followed.”

After a moment Dean says “Yeah,” with practiced neutrality. He’s got some similar tallies, written in Sharpie on the back of his eyelids.

Cas sighs and his attention comes back down to the table. “By the time I received the authority to restore your soul to your body, the infection had spread almost past the point of containment. That’s why I resisted taking a vessel at first. I worried that occupying a human form would speed up the process.”

“Hey now. I thought you showed up naked because you thought I’d be one of those special people,” Dean quips, “Who can handle angel stuff without going all kibbles ’n bits.”

“That was only a partial truth.”

Dean tips the beer bottle in salute. “You’re a real special flavor of asshole, Cas.”

“So I’ve been told. I was right, though. When I took Jimmy as a vessel, I contracted — condensed — myself very severely. The infection had a much shorter distance to travel to reach all of my extremities, and a human form was the most hospitable environment possible.”

“You got a raging case of the Deans.”

Cas’s head kicks back in a laugh that kinda surprises them both. “Yes,” he says, grinning. “I did. I was very displeased, and very concerned I’d be found out and judged unfit for duty. And I very much was. Unfit, that is. Though I was not found out.”

“C’mon, never? You went rogue on the company.”

“Uriel suspected. Naomi certainly detected it later, as did Metatron. But in the moment, no. The Host’s attention was focused on the Apocalypse ahead, not on debriefing a mission that was considered a success. After the Cage was closed, I had too much influence to come under that level of scrutiny.”

“Hmh.” Dean realizes he’s been systematically picking down the label on the beer bottle, so he sets it on the ground before he gets sticky little shreds everywhere. “So I gotta ask. My little souvenir, the handprint. That’s where you grabbed me, with your lil…Mister Potato Head human arm?”

“It is.”

“If I’m the one who infected you, how come I’m the one who got burned?”

“My hand didn’t burn you.”

“Well, it ain’t fingerpaint.”

“Your own soul burned it, as it flowed out of your flesh and into mine. It burned until the moment when I finally released you from my grip. My hand healed itself; your arm did not.” Castiel gives a thin scoff. “I hadn’t planned to leave you interred.”

“Oh, no? Well that’s nice to hear, you know, a decade after the fact. I still have nightmares about that shit.”

Castiel winces. “It’s no excuse, but I was in a great deal of…the equivalent of pain. It took an immense effort to break off the inflow of your soul, and when I did manage it, I was thrown quite a ways by the recoil. By the time I recovered enough to return, you were already looting a gas station,” He finishes, dryly.

“Yeah, well, Dad didn’t think much of leisure as a virtue. Also I was thirsty, because I’d just crawled out of my own grave.”

“And I was distracted, because I’d just fought my way out of the inferno while being digested by a demented human soul.”

“You wanna call it even?”

Cas lifts his brows. “If you don’t mind.”

 There is a long, dark breath, during which their little smiles fade. 

 “So, all that,” Dean says, because he’s a fucking coward.

“All that,” says Cas, because he isn’t.

 Dean clears his throat. “That means you can see my soul-stuff 24/7, huh?”

Castiel slides one leg up onto the bench, shifts to sit astride it, like he’s maybe about to deliver an after-school PSA on the Real Deal About Drugs. “I can always see myself, and extensions of my self. And since your soul made itself into an integral part of me…I can see you.”

“I take it that’s not exactly in the manual.”

“No. I didn’t entirely understand it at first — for a long time, I convinced myself it was because you were designed to be a celestial vessel, and that I had been destined to save you from Hell.”

That thin, acidic feelings starts to rise up in Dean’s chest again. “Do you…” A dry swallow reflex grabs his throat. “Hm. Fuck.”

“What?” Cas asks, scooting forward. An angel. Scooting. What a world. “You can ask me anything, Dean. I hope we’re both past being offended.”

“Have you ever thought that. This whole deal. Our…thing.” Dean lets out a breath. “The way you feel about me. The way I feel about you.”

“Do I worry that its only basis is our shared material?”

Dean licks his lips, works a jaw muscle, forces out a nod. 

Cas frowns, sets one elbow up against the table, then lets his head tip to the side. “Why do you love Sam?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I get it, he’s my brother. We got shared material, too. But we’re not talking genetics.”

“Genes were the initial basis of your love for Sam. But you share half as much material with Adam. Do you love him fifty percent as much as you do Sam?”

“One, love doesn’t work that way and you know it, and two, fucking of course not. I barely know the guy, and what I’ve seen didn’t exactly blow me away.” Not that the poor dumb kid ever really had a chance. “Sam’s Sam, he’s earned it a million times over just by bein’ him.”

“Then you understand.”

“But Cas, man…I…” Dean laughs, which is an abbreviated form of screaming, “I treated you like shit.”

Cas nods. “You did.”

“Okay, the rules say you’re not supposed to agree with me.”

“But the balance remains in your favor. Dean, are you genuinely afraid that you — care for me…”  and Dean can hear the FCC live-bleep in that one, like does his total cowardice have a special color Cas can see with his soul-o-vision? “Only out of some compulsion?”

“No,” Dean says, to the great surprise of his frontal cortex, which was busy kicking the shit out of itself. “No,” he says again, just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, that that answer actually came out of him and entered the living air between them.

Then the wave is rolling towards him and he enters that slim moment of body-physics where you either take a lungful and commit to diving under the break, or you kick out against the undertow, arch your back to meet the blow, and let yourself be flown all the way up to the waiting shore––

“No,” Dean says, “I love you.” And he chokes up a little, first at the release of saying it, then at how much of exactly jack-shit it changes anything so what was he even scared of, and then at the look on Cas’s face: how he’s frozen. Like that dog from that video, the one that loved tennis balls so goddamn much that his owner bought him a thousand fucking tennis balls and dumps them out all at once and the dog absolutely stalls the fuck out, just seconds on end of underspecced dog-brain hang time before he finally snaps back to reality and loses his absolute shit scrabbling all over the porch.

Castiel comes back online with a little choking noise of his own, and a kind of awkward scrabble for Dean’s hand.

“I have for a long time,” Dean continues, because apparently he’s continuing, “I’ve loved you for fucking ages, Cas. In people years, anyway, I’m sure that mean’s fuckall to somebody who’s a zillion––”

“I don’t,” Cas says thickly, “really give a damn about the age difference, Dean,” and cracks into a chuckle.

“So how come you never knew it?” Dean asks, feeling freedom turn into a hunger or something like vertigo. “If you can see my soul, how could you not know?”

Cas shrugs, a bit helplessly.

“Seriously,” Dean laughs, “how did I manage to hide that shit so well? Sammy found every nudie mag I ever shoplifted.”

Cas shakes his head. “You’ve never actually been able to hide anything from me.”

Dean scoffs. “C’mon, man. I snowed you plenty, or else we woulda had this conversation dirtside a long time ago.”

“Whatever I missed, Dean…it wasn’t because you succeeded at hiding it,” Castiel says, softly. He takes a slow, shaky breath, and meets Dean’s eyes with a smile. He lifts a hand to Dean’s face, bone and flesh on flesh and bone. “I just loved you enough to look away.”

 It’s a long time before they go back inside. By any measure. {AO3}

[infernalshadowtheif]

Synthetic Blood

After taking over her father's company, Lena Luthor spends her time trying to develop a safe man made synthetic blood for medical science and maybe for herself and her kind too of course. You see, Lena is technically human but she is also technically a vampire, well more of a half vampire that's more or less human except for her extra abilities and vitality. As she tries to develop a Blood substitute her brother Lex attempts to steer her away from the light and back down a dark path that has always beckoned her to walk down.

[Look, vampires are kinda cool and I've been meaning to finish this idea that I literally dreamed about last year so let me know if you guys like it, hate it, or have ideas for it yeah? I'll post it on Ao3 later.] Words: 3,036K 🙃

Lillian took the cold metal brush handle in her hand, making it up to her hair, and started to brush through the already smooth tresses of hair on Lena's head.

"On to more pressing matters, it seems we won't be hunting for a while, seeing that the humans are now more aware of our kind since your brother started his little war with the Kryptonians." The aimless brushing continued a bit rougher than before but not painful.

"How are we to feed then mother, how are you going to feed? I am obviously already prepared but I know you prefer straight from the source." There was a slight hesitation in the last stroke of the cold brush.

Lillian set it down slowly almost methodically as she turned away and towards the moonlit window behind them.

Lena looked after the older woman cautiously.

"Mother?"  Wearily she stood from the vanity mirror and closer to Lillian’s side. 

She received a click of a tongue as an answer before she sighed.

"I hated how it reeked on his body, your father I mean, I hated how the smell of artificial blood was always stuck to him, it reminded me of that awful white meat substitute that some humans love in place of real meat."

"Tofu mother," Lena added helpfully as Lillian sneered further at the window and crossed her arms over her chest in defiance. 

"Yes, that was it. He always smelled of his fake blood, you already adopted his tendencies to not want to drink from the source of what we need to survive, which is fine but I’ll never understand it." She turned her head to Lena almost puzzled.

“Well mother I know that this situation will be harder but I’ll try and figure something out for us. I'm sure I can maybe synthesize something more to your preferences if need be." 

Lillian wasn't the warmest parent compared to most others but after Lex went on with his blood-war with the aliens, she saw that Lena was more stable than she originally thought, especially compared to her son. So through great effort and shattered pride, she tried her best to bridge the gap between her and her daughter as best as she could, trying to make up for years of neglect and misplaced scorn.

With a defeated sigh Lillian finally turned to look at her youngest,

"Thank you, dear, I know you'll try no matter how many times I say I'll be fine. I just want you to  use that brilliant brain of yours for more than just little old me, I'm content with the choices and endless amount of repenting I have waiting for me when it's time." Lillian never smiled at Lena, at least not often, especially as a child, but the one she gave her at that moment was the best one she'd ever seen.

“I think we all do mother. Thank you for taking care of me and letting me wait out the sun for today, I lost track of time again.” Lena lightly skims her thumb over the still healing blemish on her arm, if she were a full vampire like the rest of the Luthors in her family she would have lost it or simply turned to dust as her father did.

“Any time dear, this is still your home too, no matter what your brother claims.”

Lena almost cries, such simple words that her past self would have never dreamed of hearing from the woman before her, Lena simply nods in acknowledgment and heads back out to her car to get back to her apartment.

The drive back to National City is quiet, the long highway back lets her mind playback the hellish day she had, to say she’s dreading the minute she has to see the cities resident Super would be an understatement.

She saw me, I know she saw what I’m capable of. Or at least that I'm definitely NOT human. 

Lena’s thoughts turn darker as she imagines the red-caped hero’s look of repulsion and utter hate when she does truly figure out that she’s a creature of the dark, or, at least half of one.

Her mind spirals further down the dark hole of fear of what she will do with her, so much so that she missed the new set of headlights quickly coming closer in her side-view mirror.

When it finally caught enough to slam into her back bumper she quickly snaps out of it and tries to keep her own car on the road and away from the sheer drop of the mountainside to her right.

“Fuck! Now, what!?” The vehicle sways again as the car behind her clashes into hers, she took one of her more pedestrian cars today so her usual horsepower she’d use to escape is severely lacking this time as another hit on her life is in motion again this week. 

So much for going incognito.

The shattering of her rear window makes her jump, the side of her car slamming right into the metal railing, seeing the lack of ground on the other side has her heart drop right into her stomach as she tries to get control again. 

Big nope to that.

Another pop was registered in Lena’s brain as she finally lost control of her car, her vision spinning just as quickly as the car itself.

“Fuckfuckfuck! I swear, I'm going to stake you myself when I deal with your pets, Lex!” Sweating out of panic, Lena decides that trying to outspeed them won’t happen while in her brick ford car, she figures that she just might have to use some of her power for this one.

Her car makes a sudden stop as the front end crashes through the metal railing at the edge of the road, she was lucky the car became wedged into the twisted metal otherwise she would have had a very unfortunate freefall over the cliff.

Dizzyingly, Lena pries her hands from the steering wheel, her death grip making her bones ache as she tried for her seatbelt next. The sound of car doors slamming shut jumpstarts her heartrate, flooding her system with adrenaline. 

The shadows in the headlights get closer, the sound of a gun reloading, four sets of boots crunching on gravel as they round her car on both sides. 

She is actually scared now, her right shoulder twinges painfully as she tries to rip out the buckle of her seatbelt, “Ah, shit.” They actually hit her it seems, her white blouse is starting to bleed red down her arm the more she struggles on the belt.

A balding man crouches down into her window, his eyes are glazed over, his face is twisted into a sickening grin. “Hello halfy,” He sneers. “Your big brother wanted us to check in on you this fine night, he was deathly worried for your health as of late.” 

His gaze snaps to her bloody shoulder fixated on it for a second or so as he takes a deep breath of warm fresh blood, his dull eyes start to pool red as he takes another lung full of bloody air.

Lena shudders in disgust tilting her face away from his, he reeks of death and rot, ghouls were her least favorite creature that her brother had in his employ.

“Enjoying ourselves are we?” She mutters as his eyes roll open again.

He hums in delight. “He did say your blood was more or less mortal, it's almost humanly sweet.” his smile widens, some kind of old meat seemingly stuck in his teeth and gums as he appraises the state of her and her battered car. “Shame you didn't drive your nicer car, we could have stripped it for parts, but ah, oh well. We’re only here for you tonight then sadly.” 

A creaking noise shook the car as he ripped her driver’s door clean off its hinges, Lenas heightened smell was shocked by a wall of death the bald man oozed when he leaned in to free her of her seatbelt and dragged her out of the car by the scruff of her blouse.

Still dazed and newly freed from the metal deathtrap, Lena saw this as her last chance to try and escape from her brother’s lackeys. “I may smell human but by no means does that mean that I’m weak like one.” Latching onto the ghoul’s arm with shaking hands, Lena uses his own weight to counterbalance them both into the loose dirt and flipped herself over again to grab for his throat. She hates to use it but her power has to be used now before what little blood she does drink wears off and leaves her completely defenseless, she’ll have to kill him quickly.

His body starts to convulse as she uses her hand to tear into his fragile throat, black rotten blood oozing over her fingers as his body finally stops thrashing about. She’s still aware of the three heartbeats of the other goons as she finally stands up, her glowing eyes lock onto a man with mousy brown hair, his own eyes are terrified. They all are.

These ones are all human, two are just boys compared to her own age, and they’re all frozen stock still like rabbits to a fox.

Lena is shaking, she doesn’t kill humans, she won’t stoop to her brother’s level. “Leave, go home and forget about this whole night, I don't want to kill any of you. This man was not human, he likely would have eaten you all after my death so take this as an act of mercy. Please.”

The youngest is seems to want no part so he tossed down his weapon and dragged the other two back to their vehicle, the older ones still frozen and staring at the rapidly decaying body of the now-dead ghoul. “Let’s get the hell out of here guys!”

The car ripped out and back onto the highway leaving a wobbly and drained Lena in the dust, “Ugh!” She shrieks in anger as she kicks the rotten body in her rage. 

Before she can take out more of her frustration on the dead ghoul she hears a familiar chime of her phone’s ringtone, or more specifically, Karas ringtone. 

“Shit. Movie night, I was supposed to be at Karas tonight.” Grumbling as she whipped her bloody hand on her jeans, she bent over to pick up her cracked phone to answer her friend.

“Lena?” Lena sighed, “Hi Kara, I'm sorry for not calling you back, I seem to have run into some car trouble on my way to yours.” Glancing over to her clearly totaled car she winced at the sight of it, “Well more like it's completely totaled now.”

On Karas’s end of the line, she heard a crash and rushing of footsteps, “Ohmygosh! Are you okay Lena?? Where are you, I can come to get you or send my friend to help? Please tell me you’re okay..”

The brunette felt her eyes well up with tears, she really didn't deserve this human known as Kara Danvers, she really didn't. 

“I'm off of creek falls and the main highway near the cliff drop, I'm no worse for wear sort of, I'm standing on my own two feet at the moment so I’d say ok, for now anyway, I definitely need a shower and a lot of sleep after this though.” Lena tried to joke but didn't hear Kara anymore, just a rush of air against the microphone.

Confused Lena checks the line, “Kara? Are you still there?” 

“Y-yeah Lena I'm still here, um, please don't be mad." Now that made Lena pause. "What? Why would I be mad at you?" 

The wind in the earpiece lighted up a bit, "I'm almost there, I'm picking you up, I called Alex she'll be on her way too okay? Was there another car involved or an animal run across the road?" Panic gripped at Lena, Kara can't see this mess! Let alone the rotting ghoul body at her feet, she wouldn't understand!

"Kara, wait, it’s alright I already called the authorities and everything, it'll take a bit but I'm fine right now, also don't drive while on the phone! I don't want to be the cause of yet another accident tonight." Lena hear Kara scoff into the phone, "Thank you for the concern, but I'm definitely not driving, I don't even have a permit." She chuckled at her own expense.

Another pause.

"I'll be fine, just promise not to be mad when you see me? Yelling is fine but don't hate me, please." Anxiety wasn't a common thing for Lena but right now she can feel it clawing up her throat and she swallowed down her guilt of having her sweet fragile Kara seeing what her own monstrous hands are capable of. 

She trusts Kara with her life, she'll have to trust her with her dark secret now. "Only if you promise me the same, it’s a mess over here and I'm certain that it'll be horrific for you to see why." 

Kara hummed in thought for a second, "Well duh, I could never hate you Lena, or any other bad emotion towards you really." She said carefully like if she said it louder Lena wouldn't believe her.

"Ah wait, I think I see you? Oh." Kara whispered then the line went dead.

Lena was sitting hunched against her busted car, looking around confused at the lack of vehicle, Kara nowhere in sight. Letting out a ragged breath Lena let her head fall back with her eyes closed, praying that Kara would listen to her explain the scene before her.

The brunette’s eyes snapped open when she felt a warm hand on her good shoulder, to say she almost shit a brick would be putting it very lightly because right before her was Supergirl, but in Kara Danvers' sweats, T-shirt, and a very red cape with no socks or shoes to top it all off. Being shocked would be a very light word for how Lena is at that moment. 

Super- uh, Kara is pretty much herself while she looks Lena over,  making soft cooing noises as she checks over each scrape and bruise, she all but balls her eyes out when she shifts Lena's shirt to check the gunshot wound. 

"Lena, Rao, I should have listened further out for you, if I was listening I could have stopped this." Lena was a bit slow to process her words but she quickly bounced back and stupidly asked, “Kara? You’re not human?” Kara stilled her hands, “Yeah. I'm sorry I kept it from you ‘till now, I just could never find the right moment to tell you. I was going to try again tonight if that’s  worth anything.” 

Kara did look nervous, wary that Lena was angry about her lying for so long, but instead of being angry Lena just full body laughed at their predicament.

As light tears started to form in Lena's eyes Kara nervously held the brunette's hand. "Lena? I don't know if laughing should make me feel nervous or happy right now." 

Lena chuckled a couple more times and pulled the blonde into a relieved hug. "I've been an idiot, I've been trying to bring up the fact that I'm not human either for the past year Kara, so right now I think it's a bit ridiculous that you've been worrying about the same thing." Lena definitely didn't miss the full bodied twitch Kara did after hearing her say this, she understood though, Lena is technically human but only partially. It was briefly a one sided embrace until Kara hugged her back with almost all her strength, leaving Lena only mildly squished but overall content.

Their little bubble was immediately burst when a black SUV pulled up to blind the two of them, a bedraggled Alex dressed in her own pajamas and combat boots holding a shovel, "Kara. Tell me why did you text me 911 please  bring a shovel! At 1 am Kara- WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT??" 

Alex is out of her car and right by Kara's side almost instantly when the once thought to be dead ghoul flips onto its side to drag its to Lena, grossly gurgling its black blood as it crawls over to the trio.

"That would be what's left of my brother's newest hit and sent to check in on me. He's a ghoul so I probably should have made sure to take the whole head off inside of ripping her throat out." Lena extracts herself from an equally shocked Kara and tugs the shovel out of Alex's limp fingers, "Please pardon me, I'll give it right back." 

Alex looks at her dumbfounded, Lena shrugs as she turns back to the ghoul clearly annoyed beyond belief. "I would say have a nice trip given that you're going straight to hell but I really don't appreciate what you did to my car, " she glances over at the once upon a time pristine white paint job and cringes at the many bullet holes and scratches.

"Actually I'm more pissed that I had to meet you at all, so, bye now." 

She raised the shovel as high as she could with her good arm and swung down with all of her might, the ghoul let out one last hiss as the head fell from his body. 

Exhausted Lena looks back at the gawking Danvers sisters, "Help me clean this up and I'll get you both whatever food you want and could eat for a month?" She was almost certain Alex was going to shoot her up until that offer was in play, both sisters bolted up and came over to help.

"You're also going to fill us in about whatever the hell that thing was and why he worked for your brother." Alex stated as she waved her hand in Lena's direction in an almost protective voice.

"And about the not human thing." Kara mumbled as she grabbed the creatures legs over to the deepening hold Alex was currently working on.

With a big sigh of relief Lena nodded, vowing to answer whatever her two friends asked her.

"Deal."

[spacialsojourn]

First Contact

------------Show Pesterlog ------------

New Message from: grimauxiliatrix

GA: Hello GA: My Apologies For Contacting You Seemingly Out Of The Proverbial Blue GA: But I Noticed That Your Username Is Quite Similar To One That A Friend Of Mine Used To Have GA: It May Just Be A Coincidence However On The Off Chance That You Might Know Her GA: Are You At All Familiar With The Name Vriska Serket GA: If Not Then I Apologize For Taking Up Your Time GA: This Is Just The First Time I Have Had Access To Any Sort Of Electronic Communication In A Couple Of Sweeps GA: Though If You Are Not Familiar With The Name Vriska Then I Suppose The Term Sweep Is Likewise Meaningless To You GA: Suffice To Say That It Has Been Quite A While Since I Was Last Able To Even Attempt A Search For The Individual I Am Seeking In An Online Platform GA: And It Is Either Very Fortuitous GA: Or Else Very Coincidental GA: I Personally Am Expecting The Latter But Hoping For The Former AG: Oh wow AG: I wasn't expecting any8ody to ever message this account ag8in. I haven't gotten a message here since AG: Wow, fuck, years ago at this point AG: Kan???????? AG: Are you here??????? AG: Are you Human???????? GA: You Will Have To Define What You Mean By Here GA: But Yes I Am Human

AG: Earth.

GA: I Have Been For Approximately Two Sweeps Now

AG: I mean that already answers my question and I feel like that was pretty o8vious in the context

GA: Possibly

AG: 8ut fuck, 4 years???????? AG: Where are you? Are you s8fe? AG: I mean o8viously you're not dead otherwise we wouldn't 8e having this convers8tion. AG: I've never 8een happier to see your prissy quirk in my entire fucking life this is am8zing

GA: I Am Still Trying To Reconcile Your Presence With The Wasteland Landscape I Have Been Trekking Through For What Feels Like Ages GA: But All Things Considered I Am Doing About As Well As One Can Be On An Alien Planet In A Body Not Ones Own GA: You Are Correct However GA: I Am Not Dead GA: Anymore GA: But I Was For A Short While GA: It Sucked Just As Much As The Last Time It Happened GA: Though It Was Much Slower This Time GA: So It May Have Actually Been Worse In Retrospect GA: And My Quirk Is Not Prissy

AG: Yeah the w8stelands fucking suck AG: Do you need assistance? I don't even know where the fuck you are 8ut I can send like........ AG: A caravan or something out to come get you. 8ring you 8ack to my Mansion and get you out of the fucking dust AG: Terezi's here. Sollux, too.   AG: No8ody else has come forward yet 8ut that doesn't mean they're not kicking a8out somefucking where AG: Did SkaiaNet respawn you? AG: And yeah, it is Kan. It's shockingly prim and proper for a mid-spectrum j8de8lood 8ut that's the least important thing we're talking a8out so try to st8y on topic, thanks

GA: It Is Not Prissy GA: Especially As None Of Us Can Be Considered Any Sort Of Caste On The Hemospectrum Anymore GA: Though I Must Confess To Being Surprised And Not At All Shocked That You Are Living In A Mansion GA: Again GA: Did This One Come With A Gigantic Spider Monster As Well GA:   GA: But No GA: Skaianet Did Not Revive Me GA: If Anything GA: They Were The Spark That Caused My Death GA: I Am Still Not Sure How I Managed To Revive GA: All I Do Know Is That I Am Some Sort Of Human Equivalent To Rainbow Drinkers GA: But I Am Not Sure If I Qualify To Be A Vampire As I Can Still Walk About In The Sunlight GA: I Do Not Know Where I Am Either If You Were To Try And Send Someone To Guide Me To You GA: The Closest Thing I Can Figure Out Is That I Am Somewhere That Is Yet More Desert GA: It Almost Makes Me Feel Hivesick For Alternia GA: Almost

AG: All Rust8loods all the w8y down 8a8ey AG: I keep w8ing for some8ody like Eridan or may8e even the 8atterwitch herself to come through AG: and just end up shitting a fucking cluck8east at 8eing stripped of their no8ility AG: It'll 8e hilarious when it happens AG: Oh my fucking god AG: Of course you'd 8e a vampire AG: That's hilarious. I mean, not the having to die to 8ecome one part AG: 8ut that the Earth recali8r8ion just went 'you know what? this ones a vampire'   AG: Regardless, there's no point in arguing 8ecause your quirk is just inherently prissy   AG: and I'm not the only person who thinks that AG: AND there's more important shit to talk a8out so I don't know why that's shoving a stick so far up your ass ::::// AG: Almost everywhere is desert. You're somewhere with internet though and that narrows things down AG: If we can't use landmarks to try and figure it out, I'll message Sol and get his ass on it AG: Oh AG: Also AG: I go 8y 'Spin' now

GA: I Will Admit That You Mentioning The Idea Of The Condesce Herself Coming Here And Finding Herself Reduced To A Red Blooded Human Has Made Me Smile For The First Time In What Feels Like A Perigree GA: Your Joy At My Vampiric Status Is Not As Endearing However GA: I Will Stand By My Statement That My Quirk Is Not Prissy GA: Your Quirk Is Simply Too Loose And Lax With Rules For Clear Communication GA: As For Why It Is Jamming A Proverbial Arboreal Rod Up My Waste Chute I GA:   GA: Admittedly Do Not Know Why I Am Getting So Defensive About It GA: It Just Feels Like I Have Not Had A Proper Moment To Rest Since I Revived GA: And I Am So Tired Vriska GA: I Am Tired And Angry And I Want To Just Find Someplace That Will Not See Me Run Out Of Whatever Settlement I Find As Soon As They Even Begin To Suspect That I Am Who I Am GA: So Forgive Me For Being Defensive Of Something That Makes Me Feel A Little Less Like Some Kind Of Unwanted Monster GA: I Would Think That Of Everyone In Our Old Friendship Circle You Would Be Able To Understand That Desire GA:   GA: GA: Spin GA:   GA: Why Did You Change Your Name To Spin GA: I Always Thought That You Had A Lovely Name With Vriska

AG: I'll l8y off of it AG: And nahhhhhhhh I've had to expl8in my quirk a8out a dozen times to people who don't know why I type like I do AG: It's pretty simple, hardly a 8arrier, 8ut then you've got Miss Crisp Annunci8ion over here   AG: 8ut whatever, it's fine, it's honestly the least offensive quirk that exists on Earth right now AG: No repl8cements, no shorthands, you get what you see. Refreshing since Sol is using ii's, 2's, and 0's which looks like hell AG: Humans fucking suck AG: Especially Humans who never experienced the G8me at all AG: Fuck them, 8unch of useless NPCs out here 8eing ******** and passing judgement they don't have the right to fucking pass AG: Let me come get you. If I can find where you are, you can have the fucking presidential suite to chill out in AG: I've got a good infrastructure here, there's electricity and running water AG: We've got our own water treatment plant for the mansion itself, as well as another couple for the rest of L8dy's country AG: We've got food, and shelter, we've got fa8ric8ion 8uildings and shit AG: You'll 8e s8fe here. Away from SkaiaNet   AG: Spin just....... fits 8etter, I guess. I've met a lot of my altern8s and I don't really want to associ8 with them AG: They all fucking suck lm8o

GA: I Had Nearly Forgotten How Much Of A Pan-Ache I Would Get From Reading Too Many Of Solluxes Messages In A Row GA:   GA: GA: GA: GA: I Cannot Tell If This Is You Trying To Hype Up An Otherwise Mediocre Settlement That You Have A Minor Role Of Authority In GA: Or If You Actually Have A Mansion With All Those Amenities And Are Sincere In Wanting To Share Them With Me GA: If It Is The Latter Then I Cannot Guarantee How I Will React GA: But I Will Take You Up On Your Offer GA: Even If It Is Not As Advanced As You Are Claiming GA: If Only Half Of It Is True Then That Is Still Far Better Than I Have Been Able To Gain Access To Since I Arrived On This Planet GA:   GA: And As Hard A Time As Myself Or Others Might Give You For Some Of Your Ethical Choices Vriska GA: You Should Not Be So Hard On Yourself GA: Not Even If It Is Not Technically You GA: All Alternates Are Shadows Of Ourselves And Who We Could Have Been Or Could Yet Be GA: We Have Been Getting The Shit Kicked Out Of Us Since We Picked Up That Accursed Game GA: Do Not Do SGRUBs Job For It Now That We Have Finally Escaped Its Grasp

AG: No AG: Kan AG: You don't understand AG: I am the QUEEN of L8dy's Country, Nevada. AG: It's a huge settlement with 8arric8ded walls, I think it was last year or the year 8efore we got the power grid 8ack up AG: It's funded 8y L8dy's Mansion, my live-in headquarters which also dou8les as a fucking kickass 8itching casino AG: We have a8out 20,000-40,000 people living here as permanent residents and more who come and go AG: There's tr8de, there's medicull staff, there's textile plants and industrial gardens AG: We have a standardized 8arter system AG: I've done SO MUCH p8perslogging and pulling myself up from my fucking 8ootstraps AG: I'm not 'hyping up a mediocre settlement' AG: You have to literally get into a vehicle to drive from L8dy's Mansion to the 8order walls 8ecause my territory is so large AG: We are one of the 8iggest non-aligned Encampments in the western hemisphere AG: I'm........ AG: I'm 8uilding an army, Kan. This pl8ce is fucking Huge.

GA: Vriska GA: Why Are You Building An Army GA: Did We Not All Go Through This Sort Of Thing Once Before GA: Do You Really Need To Seek Out Conflict Again So Soon

AG: SkaiaNet needs to 8e 8rought down AG: People are suffering 8ecause they hold ALL the wealth and ALL the resources AG: I'm not just going to stand 8y and let them 8ully every8ody into su8mission while the planet dies AG: and they MORE than have the capa8ilities to m8ke life more comforta8le AG: Yes I've 8uilt an army 8efore, that's why I'm the perfect person for this jo8 AG: I have experience with this shit AG: SkaiaNet has no IDEA what kind of enemy it's m8de in me AG: Also   AG: My n8me is Spin. AG: I've triangul8ed your loc8ion. AG: Do you want me to come get you or no?

GA:   GA: GA:

AG: Yes or no?

GA: I Am Thinking GA:   GA: GA: Will It Be You Who Picks Me Up GA: Or Some Random Underling Of Yours

AG: If you want me to m8ke the trip personally, I can t8ke a 8r8k AG: L8dy's Country won't fall apart without me for a d8y

GA: No GA: No That Will Be Fine GA: I Am Not Entirely Sure That I Want To See You GA: Until I Have Had A Chance To Clean Up

AG: God even in the f8ce of a post-apocalyptic w8steland you're still so prim lmf8o AG: I'll send my personal guard. His n8me's Seipher, I'd trust him with my life. AG: Are you in a s8fe pl8ce to 8unker down? You're a8out 7 hours out from where we're at

GA: Vri GA: GA: Spin GA: I Have Been Walking On My Own Through Swamps GA: Forests GA: Rivers And Open Fields Full Of Mud And Sadness GA: I Have Had To Bathe In Whatever Little Flowing Water I Could Find GA: And Do Not Even Get Me Started On Things Like My Clothes GA: Or All The Extra Features That Are Included With Being A Human In The Way Of Hygiene GA: Forgive Me If I Want A Moment Or Two To Myself Before I See Someone I Care About For The First Time In Almost Two Entire Sweeps GA: So That I Can Look And Smell Presentable GA: Rather Than Looking Like I Am Some Sort Of Bog Person And Smelling Like A Waterlogged Carcass

AG: You care a8out me? AG:   AG:   AG: lmf8oooooooo could you imagine, I had the strongest urge to send that and then NOTHING until my driver arrives there AG: God that would’ve 8een soooooooo funny AG: Yeah roughing it in the wilderness is fucking awful, I’ll have Seipher and K8 get you set up in your suite after you arrive and then you can just lmk when you’re ready and we’ll have dinner and a drink or something AG: I’ll see you then!!!!!!!! ::::)

——arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased Trolling grimAuxilitrix [GA]——

GA:   GA: GA: GA: But I Did Not Want To Be Done Talking With You GA: GA: ---grimauxiliatrix [GA] disconnected---

@betterthan777 @g4llowsc4l1br4t1ng @g0iinggh02t

[xxrainstormxx]

Birthday Gift. Spencer Reid x Reader (Smut)

(A/N: So I've found out Spencer content gets the most attention and hes my favorite so there is no problem here. And no one is making requests. So I'm doing my best. Maybe I should stick to Spencer XD. Anyway. 10 year age gap. Hope you don't mind. Anyway it’s Spencer’s 30th birthday. in this story. Send in some requests!) Word count: 3,000

Spencer was watching (Y/N), they were drinking with Emily and laughing at stupid things. He had been in love with (Y/N) for years. They were a writer who was now working at the BAU as an agent now. He had always found it endearing how they managed to keep writing books while also doing their work as an agent. 'How is someone so stunning, smart, and funny at the same time?' He thought to himself. (Y/N) giggled and walked over sitting in front of him "Earth to Spencer Reid~" They teased as they waved their hand in front of his face. He blushed realizing he'd been staring, and the loud music rushed back into his ears as he was sucked from his thoughts back to reality. The bar, it was a club but he was now 30 and didn't want to admit that, was loud and the music was the absolute worst thing he'd heard. "You good wonder boy?" they asked smiling slightly worried. "Oh yeah!" he called loudly, the music nearly drowning out his gruff voice. They just giggled and nodded "Not my setting" he finished his statement with a chuckle. "Would never have guess" They grinned tauntingly. The playful leer was enough to make his heart melt. Romance was never Spencer's strong point, but for (Y/N), he made a special exception. There were just ways they made him feel human, he didn't like to admit how the others treated him like some alien. "You seem like the introverted type" They smiled "Skipping, what... basically ten years of school does that." they hummed. "did you know that school is actually designed for extroverts along with basically being outdated in the sense of its teaching you how to work for a factory?" he hummed happily "Spence, wonderboy, baaaaaaaby!" they called with a giggle "I love ya facts normally, but I am just a little to drunk to really process what you are saying!" The 24 year old giggled. "Its your birthday, and I respect ya! I do, but everyone is drinking way too much" They giggled. 

"Right. That's the reason you don't wanna listen" He laughed softly. He didn't mind usually being told to stop spewing facts as long as it was (Y/N) telling him. It was a specially thing they had where it wasn't disrespectful or out of annoyance. It was because they genuinely appreciated what he said and just wanted to understand it better. So he had no reason to not listen to them, their relationship was really a wonderful thing and he cherished it. "You know i love you and your facts!" they squealed leaning on him. "Oh I know" he laughed gently kissing their forehead softly, the mostly platonic kiss was always a thing between them. The team always thought of it like a quote "father, child" thing but that just hurt his feelings. The thought that he really never had a chance because he was "too old" for the only person that really understood him. Age gaps were always controversial especially since they saw the grossest of age gaps between an adult and literal children. It made zero sense in his mind as to why they didn't like it, there were much worse things it could be an he certainly wasn't old enough to be her dad. Maybe it was his own fucked up justification for the way he felt but (Y/N) certainly didn't look like a child nor act like one. They had a mature figure, one that if they bent over at just the right angle over a desk, or pouring over a file, or even interrogating he felt he would just about die. They dressed in a very professional way despite their young age just as he had at the same age. They took themselves seriously but also knew when to call it quits or make fun of themselves. They were a perfect blend of human. He stared at their lips, wondering how soft they really were, and questioning why they used a chapstick that gave off such a strong scent that reminded him of sugar, and he wondered if it had a taste, like cherry, or plum. He wondered if he could make their voice crack as he drew circles on their body with his fingers only to touch what really mattered. He wondered if he could make their perfect mouth cry out his name in pure ecstasy how sweet they would feel clenched around his- "-SPENCER!" they squealed laughing "you've been staring into space for at least 7 fuckin minutes" they snorted tapping his nose softly making him blush. "You okay Dr." they asked affectionately. "y-Yeah course I am" he whispered, it wasn't exactly good for their location but they seemed to understand, but he wasn't okay. He was hard, and uncomfortable. He was thankful that the bar could hide it well enough, because the jeans he wore for the sake of his party weren't doing any favors to hide his friend. "You sure? You seem a little uncomfortable" they commented leaning towards him. 

He could practically feel their shaky drunk breath on his neck and god that didn't help. Their body was stunning in the outfit they had chosen, a simple black top with waist high black skinny jeans and dark green and blue painted combat boots. their body retained its beautiful shape clothes taking the shape of them. They way they stared at him brought back all the thought, making him wonder what their hair would look like as he splayed them out on his bed making them bounce and beg for more and more of him. The doctor was seen as no innocent the idea of him having these thoughts was only a fake concept to them. "Just fine. Bar seats aren't the best to sit on" he laughed softly "Then lets dance!" (Y/N) grinned grabbing his hand pulling him out of seat. The music had changed thanks to Emily practically begging to slow dance with the date she had brought. The idea of being so close thrilled Spencer normally but his current situation made it actually impossible to comprehend and made the anxiety of the situation overwhelming. They giggled "I-I'm really not in the mood to dance." he squeaked out "it'll be fun- come o- OH!" they squeaked after pushing close to him to dance they realized just why he was so flustered and uncomfortable. What caught him by surprise, was they didn't pull away. "S-sorry- I tried to be subtle, b-but y-you.... you uh..." he sighed "I just.... need the uh... space to get rid of it.... and if you want to we c-can dance after" He muttered flustered, but (Y/N) didn't move. "(Y/N), are you okay? Y-you haven't moved." he squeaked again as they pushed as closed "Act natural. You don't want the rest of the team knowing do you. If you walk away suddenly they'll know" they said softly swaying with him to the music. He shivered wiggling "you c-can't... shift like that." he gasped quietly "it's..." he mewled quietly turning red. They could have left they didn't have to be so close, they didn't have to touch him, wait, they were touching him, like, hand in the pants, touching! "Bathroom" they whispered in his ear before leaving him literally wanting. He followed after a few moments of shock. This was all very new, he'd only ever masturbated but now he was going to straight to sex in public. Holy shit. He walked in confused hearing the door behind him and lock. He turned only to be pushed against the outside of the stall. "I checked, no one is in here" (Y/N) said quietly getting onto their knees. "w-wh-why?" he yelped quietly "What do you mean?" they asked working his belt glancing up to him. "Why a-are you do-doing this for me?" he stuttered "I want to? duh." they giggled and kissed the top of his pelvis. "N-no, why...?" he panted nearly throwing his head back in anticipation. "Do I need to spell out the fact that I like you?" they purred tugging down his pants "I... I like you too." he whispered pulling them to their feet. "What are you-" they squeaked before Spencer pulled them close into a kiss. Both of them had wanted this for way too long, and so the sweet innocent kiss quickly escalated into a tangled mess of limbs, grabbing, and panting. "Lets go to my apartment, I don't want to do this here." he whispered "I've pictured you too many times to not do this right." he growled kissing down their neck as they mewled "Got it. Thi-think the others will noticed?" (Y/N) questioned before gasping as they were grabbed and slowly rubbed "Do you want to really think about them now?" he whispered nipping their ear softly "god no. I'll meet you there" they whispered pulling back and left to quickly go. Spencer swiftly heeded telling all his friends he was tired. Thankfully they hadn't connected his need to leave to (Y/N)'s and he was gone. 

(Y/N)'s P.o.V

I somehow arrived after Spencer, probably because he didn't have alcohol in his system. I wasn't exactly drunk, just buzzed, but I needed to be careful still. Getting pulled over was no ideal. I made my way up to his floor quickly, Spencer liked me, he liked me and that was enough for me. He had even kissed me, age gap... no age gap, agent, not an agent, I loved him. And I had been since we properly became friends. I personally didn't believe in love at first sight but god I know about attraction and want. I knew what I wanted, and that was Spencer Reid, I'd take him however I could. I came up behind the man himself kissing his shoulder as he struggled with his key. I reached around grabbing him and stroking him slowly. "Hurry up wonder boy." I blew against his ear causing him to grunt "You aren't helping" he groaned bucking up into my hand. "Are you a top or a bottom?" I teased as he struggled more, "I can imagine you on the bed, panting and moaning as I ride your cock." I ran my finger up his shaft slowly causing him to moan "You begging for more. Crying out my name. I bet you couldn't be a top if you wanted" I snapped teasingly. The door flew open and he pulled me in, pinning me against the wall causing a breathy moan to slip through my slightly dry lips. He slammed the door lifting my leg grinding against me. "Are you always such a brat when you're horny?" He moaned softly sucking softly on a spot on my jaw. "And what if I am?" I mewled, before crying out as he slammed against the wall bucking against me teasingly. The clothes being in the way pissed me off slightly. A small string of curses left his mouth "It's fucking hot." He muttered. It was a little shocking to hear to Spencer curse but it was enough to make me shut the fuck up for a second. "God fuck me" I gasped rolling my hips against his needily "you know. You were the only person who didn't get me a birthday present" he hummed softly "M-maybe b-because I planned on something like this" I muttered. It was the truth, I planned on confessing and had a backup present in my car. I knew full well that I wanted to do this tonight, I even put a condom in my pocket. "Wow. Such a naughty whore." I mewled at the sentence, something about Spencer saying that was enough to nearly kill me there. I groaned in pleasure pushing down on his dick. "I want you. I want you so bad!" I dragged my nails down his chest panting already. He groaned picking me up, I used the opportunity to kick my shoes off and he walked us to his room as I worked on throwing off my shirt. He attacked my chest with love bites and kisses as he pinned me to the bed giving me a chance to work at his shirt and belt. "shit" he whispered biting his lip "you look just as good as I imagined you would." he moaned rolling his hips against me once again. The clothes were really on my nerves "off" I hissed, tugging at my own pants "now! please god!" I moaned, I rolled my hips up gasping. "Why should I?" he whispered chuckling. He was so fucking hot like this. His gruff voice just kept making me shiver and I whined "Because I need you too." I moaned legs finally free of my stupid tight pants. Beauty is pain, he sighed "Such a brat" he growled and pulled himself out of his pants making me drool at the sight "I shouldn't-" he began making me whine "-but you're too much to resist" He muttered kissing me. 

I kissed back after a moment of not expecting it, his tongue making its way into my own. Spencer was an absolute god when it came to kissing, as his tongue made it's rounds around my mouth I mewled when it brushed the roof of it. I was so distracted by the kiss I hadn't noticed that he aligned with my entrance until he suddenly shoved into me. I didn't even know he put on the condom but I felt it, mostly him though. I gasped rolling my hips up nearly biting his tongue. He moaned panting "Fuck you're hot" He groaned "tight" he panted softly slowly beginning to thrust into me. I moaned loudly the suddenness of it making my head spin with pleasure "S-Spence!" I moaned as he pushed in and out of me at a slow and steady pace. I melted under him grabbing at his back, his shirt hadn't even come off yet. I wanted it off though. "Off. Sp-Spencer! Please take the shirt off." He moaned, absolute music to my ears, rocking against me taking off his shirt quickly "Such. A. Fucking. Brat" he hissed slamming into me with every word. I cried out eyes rolling back. The sounds of our moans and the slapping of skin filled the otherwise empty room. "Oh fuck!" I cried out running my hands down his chest admiring him lovingly. He may have been skinny but that didn't mean he wasn't built well. His hair fell and framed his face he looked like an actual god. "You're so fucking hot" he groaned and I arched my back with a high cry. "I-I'm- oh god- I'm cumming!" I covered my mouth. "Not. Yet." he groaned pulling out of me as I whined. "N-not fair!" I moaned "Sometimes brats need to be taught a lesson" He growled pulling me off the bed onto the floor. "Open your mouth" he said grabbing my face. I panted and opened my mouth wide. I gasped loudly as he pushed his cock into my mouth. I moaned loudly knowing what he wanted before I was even told. I bobbed my head quickly moaning at every movement and sound he made. "Baby~" he mewled as I ran my tongue up his shaft pulling off for a second to breathe before licking the tip. I pushed forward and started sucking on him again. He groaned in pleasure grabbing my hair. "Good girl. Learning not be a damn brat." He moaned teasingly, I wanted this for so long and the fact it was happening made my head spin, and my eyes roll back. After a long while he pushed me up and grabbed me shoving into me not even bothering to put me on the bed. I nearly collapsed my legs nearly giving out. So he picked me up shoving me against the wall. "Shit baby~ You're so good for me now." He gasped out "You can cum for me baby" he whispered in my ear kissing me again. I cried out loudly wiggling, against him. I bounced quickly against him, cumming and basically spilling out onto him moaning loudly. I pulled back throwing my head back as he continued to thrust into me way too hard. It drove me absolutely crazy. I moaned his name a few more times "I... I can't.. Oh god" I gasped feeling him fill me entirely with his cum. He collapsed back onto the bed with me still in his arms resting on his chest. "Damn..." he whispered against my neck. I only yawned in response, not able to speak. "I... I love you. Not just like." he whispered. "I know it's not the time, but I don't want this to be a one night stand. Or a friends with benefits thing. I want you. I want to be yours. We don't have to talk about this right now. We can talk tomorrow" He whispered earning a tired yawn from me. I gasped softly as he pulled out leaving me feeling empty. And to sleep we went. 

3rd person P.o.V

The next morning (Y/N) had woke up sore and alone. It was strange to them but they smiled as Spencer walked into the room. "Hi." he whispered handing them some pain medicine. "Did you sleep well?" He asked them petting their head and brushing the hair out of their eyes. "hi... I slept great" they mumbled taking it with a hum. "Good. Do you uh, need a shower?" he asked gently "and your clothes are in the dryer." he mumbled shyly. It was a funny thing, how dominate and rough he was, but now soft and shy as usual. It made them smile "I... I really care for you." he whispered "And I want you to be comfortable." He whispered. "I love you too Spencer." I giggled quietly "A shower would be lovely." they laughed a little. Spencer grinned happily "Best birthday present ever"

[inbarfink]

I believe Greg’s claims that his family situation was horrible. When a grown-up man feels like he has no other choice but to run away from his family (remember, Greg was, like, 20 when he left) and then has absolutely nothing good to say about them for years and years later - that’s an indictment of the parents, not the son. They forced him into activities that had nothing to do with his actual intersts (including wrestling which can be... very unpleasant when you’re not into it), and absolutely forbade him from anything associated with the thing he actually LIKED, music. They didn’t allow him to dress and look the way he wanted and not in a “I am not letting my toddler wear the same shirt for 20 days in a row way’, in a “your son is 18 and you are still forcing him to cut his hair the way YOU want it to look”. That’s bad, that’s really bad. Greg wasn’t just sick of a ‘boring, mundane life on the suburbs with too much meatloaf’, he was suffocated in a toxic household.

And I understand why Greg was upset and defensive when Steven started with his ‘maybe your parents had a point’ thing. It must hurt to hear your son, the only family you really have in this world, defend the family you ran away from. Steven’s not thinking totally straight, he accuses Greg of keeping him away from his grandparents but he saw the stacks of unopened letters - implying that Greg has TRIED to keep in contact with them but the DeMayos were the one who refused. He’s focusing on the image of normalcy and humanity that the DeMayos house represents, on school and friends and graduations and home-cooking and adorable spoon collections - and not on Greg feeling they could never accept him and that he had to hide his most treasured possessions from his parents.

But ALSO Greg should apologize to Steven and work to be a better parent. Steven wouldn’t have been happier under an upbringing as strict and overcontrolling as the DeMayos. But Greg’s only two options weren’t “toxic overbearing ‘normalcy’” and ‘living in a van and never going to school’ - he is at fault for going into the absolute extreme opposite of his own upbringing and prehaps of projecting his own desires over Steven’s needs. Steven has told him, quite clearly, that he is upset about growing up without a stable roof over his head, about missing out on school (which both an opportunity for his future and a chance to expand his peer group and make a lot more friends), about never going to a doctor’s (nobody could guess what effect Rose’s healing powers could have on Steven’s body! Steven really lucked out that he didn’t NEED to go to the Doc for most issues, but nobody could have guessed it!) and Greg’s response was just “Yeah, but what I had was worse!”. I understand why Greg’s instincts were to go on the defensive but he is the adult and the dad and Steven is his teenage son it’s Literally His Job to be the bigger person in the argument.

And just as I consider Greg’s seemingly 100% negative feelings about the DeMayos indictment enough that they were shitty parents, then I find Steven’s mixed feelings about Greg as an indictment that Greg’s parenting has been flawed. Steven is currently a very messed up teenager, and Greg is his dad; Steven’s healthy development and happiness is his responsibility! I understand why Greg Turned Up the Way That He Did considering his background, but he is at the very least complicit in many of the Shit That Fucked Steven’s Mental State to the point that it is today. Even if I accept the idea that Steven HAD to live off-the-grid due to being a Gem (and I don’t necessarily. Yeah, his mother is a Space Alien, but his dad is a US citizen and he was born on US soil, he can have a fucking Social Security Number), Greg could have... like... tried to find some sort of structured non-Gem activity that Steven might be intersted in (we’re not going Full DeMayo here) like an afterschool class or something to give Steven a chance to develop his nonmagical skills and bond with more children his age. Which would have lowered the amount of time Steven was stuck alone in the Beach House just waiting for the Gems to come back and allowed him to develop his interpersonal skills and create a bigger support network for himself... these are things that could have really helped Steven in the long-run!

Steven opened up to Greg about his issues (and we know how hard it is to Steven to actually open up!), and what Greg ended up offering to him was more about Greg than about Steven. The message of the “Mr. Universe” song is “you can be free! You can be anything!” and that was clearly so meaningful and touching to young Gregory DeMayo, but it is the exact opposite of what Steven Universe wanted and asked for - some sort of direction and stabillity. And it’s... not the worst mistake in the world for a parent to make, to try and give your kids what YOU want rather than what THEY want, especially when you are dealing with such a complex problem as Steven has. But when you realize the You solution isn’t working... you have to process that it’s not working because they are not You and they require a change is perspective and maaaaaybe they might feel a little hurt that you were projecting on them and might want an apology or at least an acknowledgement that that’s what you were doing and that you’re going to Not Do It now?

If you are a parent and you have a child who is as messed-up as Steven is right now, that is kinda your responsibility bcause your child is your responsibility. If you have a child that is mad at you, you should at least have the self-awareness to think about what you might have done wrong. If your child literally shouts at you something that basically means “the source of all of my problems is the fact that I am your son”, then... that at least requires some self-reflection. Steven said stuff that was Dumb and Wrong and Hurtful things in this car argument, that’s true. He WOULDN’T have been happy under the thumb of parents like the DeMayos, Greg probably was justified in cutting them off, it’s not his dad’s fault that he never meant his grandparents. But inside these dumb and hurtful things there is a kernel of real frustration and hurt. And instead of acknowledging that frustration; Showing some sort of regret for not being able to give Steven a more stable and ‘normal’ home life that he now desires, promising to do better in the future, even just a “sorry I messed up, I didn’t mean to mess you up”... Greg just acts like he ignores it completely.

If your child has an outburst that they was clearly ashamed of and was clearly Pretty Unhealthy, you can’t just say “I’m proud of you, you called me out on my bullshit. And if you do, you can at least, like... acknowledge that things you were called on in any way???? Rather than just make it about yourself and YOUR upbringing and how it was much worse, which... even if ya don’t mean it, comes off as just you ‘proving’ that your parenting style IS right, because, hey! You can tell me anything! While meanwhile your kid is processing that no, he can’t tell you anything, because you are not actually doing anything useful for me right now. When your child tells you that your parenting style was bad and harmful to them, you should not immediately go into the same old routines you always do right after that???

I fear that the whole experience might have made Steven’s question Greg’s love for him, that maybe now he sees Greg’s kind and accepting nature as insincere and just as an attempt to overcompensate for his own issues. Is Greg really proud of him or does he just say it because that’s what he’s ‘supposed’ to say? But I have no doubt that Greg loves and cares for Steven a whole lot and that he raised Steven the way that he did because he thought that was the best option possible and that... the whole situation is just hard for him. Steven is dealing with a lot of issues that he never outwardly displayed to his parental figures before and it’s hard for them to adjust and to know what the right solution is. And it’s just plain easier to try and fall into your regular parenting techniques that always seemed to work before (like giving your child more ice cream and telling them their emotions are valid), rather than try and totally dismantle your approach to parenting in one evening.

It’s important to remember that Greg’s probably not in the best place right now either. Just because I think it is Greg’s responsibility as the Dad to be the bigger person in the argument and see what part of Steven’s complaints are valid... doesn’t mean it’s not also a hard thing to do when he’s also bringing up memories of Greg’s abusive childhood and saying his parents might not be all that bad. That’s gotta make it hard for Greg to think rationally about Steven’s words. And that’s not factoring in the supernatural element in which Steven’s trauma gives him Scary Dangerous Powers and Greg is the squishest, most fragile part of Steven’s family.

But it’s still Greg’s responsibility to make Steven happy and healthy,  and on that day, on “Mr. Universe”, he messed that up. And I believe Steven when he says that he messed that up before too. Greg’s not a bad person, but... an apology for the missteps of parenthood is what Steven needed at that moment and what Steven was hoping for, and Greg’s inabillity to deliever it was what caused the rift in their relationship most of all. I mean... The show literally spells that Steven needs to hear some sort of ‘I’m sorry’, not just from Greg, but from all of his parental figures! Remember how “Prickly Pair” ended???

Cactus Steven is a metaphor for Meat Steven, for Cactus Steven to find peace he had to hear Meat Steven acknowledge that he hasn’t been the best parent and that he’s sorry. And it’s no coincedence that Steven has very rarely heard his parental figures apologize to him and that it has yet to happen in SUF, my prediction is that it’s gonna play some sort of part in the finale and with Steven fixing his relationship with Greg and the CGs.

[fanfictrashdump]

Universe in a Jar - Phase 4 fic

OK. I did something. A few days ago I reblogged this post about the magical trio. And then my brain went off on a monumental tangent and this happened. It’s not my fault, really– Loki is my all-time fave, Wanda could murder me and I’d thank her and Stephen is a smart, sassy bitch... all wins.

So, here, y’all can have it. I might leave it there or I might continue depending on my mood. 

Characters: Stephen Strange, Loki, Wanda Maximoff, OC

Rating: T? Language!

Summary: Baby-sitting beings arguably more powerful than him goes awry for Doctor Strange. He knows one person who can possibly keep them isolated and out of trouble. Well, he knew someone who could... he hasn’t seen them in decades and for stupid reasons.

XX

"Wait here. No funny business."

Doctor Stephen Strange half-dragged himself upright to deliver the warning. The portal-hopping and timeline clipping involved in the last twelve hours–if he could even call them that–of his life had really taken it out of him. Who knew fixing tears in the time-space continuum was so exhausting? Doctor Who made it look like a breeze!

Setting his companions with one last threatening glare, he walked up to a faded, run down apartment door with a crooked six hanging just above the knocker. In all honesty, the place looked even worse than what he had anticipated when the hospital directory gave him the address. Still, he knew he had made it here for a reason, despite the fact his stomach was roiling and begging him to reconsider. This was his Hail Mary. Tightening his jaw and frowning himself into another set of early wrinkles, he pounded the wooden entrance so hard the six righted itself.

A minute or so later, the door swung open, a woman filling the empty frame just long enough to lay eyes on the doctor.

"Nope."

The door slammed shut with a noisy shudder just as Stephen opened his mouth. He swallowed the dozen or so expletives that were threatening to wriggle themselves free from his throat. Instead, he straightened his hoodie, loosened his neck with an audible crack, and took a deep breath before the side of his fist struck the door four times.

Pound. Pound. Pound. Pound.

Silence.

Stillness.

His companions beginning to titter in the background because for all his pomp and attitude and the timelines are not to be meddled with–I am the Sorcerer Supreme, he could not get a single human to open the door.

Pound. Pound. Pound. Pound.

His teeth ground together harder in annoyance. "Seph! I have absolutely no problem in staying here all day. Making a fuss. Screaming at your door. Waking the neighbors. Being a nui–"

The door swung open, then. Stephen was met with a frown and eyes dark as storm clouds and for just a second he forgot why he was doing this. "What the fuck do you want?"

His expression softened under her glare, if only minimally. There was a reluctance in his frame that refused to give up even as he said the words. "I need help, Seph." His eyes flittered briefly over his shoulder and it was just long enough for the woman to notice that the sorcerer was not alone.

Standing on her tiptoes, she looked over his shoulder. Just down the harshly lit hallway, two figures–woman dressed in dark red and a man in an all black suit–stood watching the interaction and chattering among themselves. Her expression lightened just a fraction. "Who's the cutie?"

Stephen looked back, furrowing his brow and taking careful inspection of the other two before directing his attention back to the woman at the door. "Which one is the cutie?"

"Take your pick," she challenged back and even though his initial instinct was to roll his eyes and scoff, a little smirk tugged at his lips.

He whistled, gesturing the door with his head. His companions perked, if only due to sheer curiosity about this new person. "Wanda, Loki, meet Dr. Persephone Hale." He sighed, shoulders slumping in anticipation for what was to come out of his mouth. He gathered the most sincere look he could muster and held her gaze. "Please?"

A million expressions fluttered through her features, including a peculiar twitch of her nose he knew only happened when she was about to do something she really didn't want to. He tried not to celebrate the victory too soon. She was, after all, making him wait for it. After a moment of internal deliberation, she stepped aside and Strange signaled in no uncertain terms that the two needed to step inside.

"Thank you for having us. I'm sorry if we're intruding." Wanda looked tense as she spoke, like they had already had plenty of doors slammed in their face. Or perhaps she was just sensing the thoughts and emotions of their host and fearing the worst.

Seph waved her in. "It's not a problem. I am glad to help an Avenger and… an alien god." She offed them both a forced smile. "Where'd you leave the horns?"

Loki chuckled, straightening his suit. "They didn't go with the outfit. May I?"

"Of course. It's him I'm not crazy about."

The smile on Loki's face grew as he sidled past her, leaving Stephen to glare at them both. "Seph–"

"I don't care. I don't care about whatever excuse you're about to give me–"

"I'm sorry! I can't do anything else other than apologize."

"Yes, you're right. Why would the Sorcerer Supreme even bother with the lesser mortals?" With an icy glare, she turned on her heel and stomped into the apartment, though she left the door open in invitation.

Drawing a long sigh, Stephen reconsidered turning time back just ten minutes and foregoing this whole disaster before realizing he had no other choice, and so he followed her in and closed the door behind him.

The entrance hall of the tiny Bronx apartment melted away after a few steps, replacing stale summer air with a crisp country breeze. Faded blue flower-patterned wallpaper was familiar at first sight, as was the well-loved wooden stair banister, worn in places where the steps were squeaky from nights of trying to sneak in after curfew. Knick-knacks and pictures crammed into every possible space brought back memories that he had long since locked into the back of his mind and forgotten about. Everything within his line of sight brought with it a prickle and tingle of a life past but still haunting him, and he loved and hated it in equal measure.

"Who devised this portal? The work is rather formidable," Loki remarked, breaking the silence, in the closest thing to awe that any of the others had ever heard.

"Oh, i-it’s nothing impressive." Seph quipped, brushing away the compliment.

"So you studied alongside Strange, then?"

"No. Not magic, at least." Persephone gestured with her index around the room. "This is the only thing I can do."

"A feat like this without any of those silly rings that he needs? Impressive." He paced around, touching invisible seams and humming to himself. "With a little training you could do very well for yourself." Neither doctor could decide whether the tone he was using was encouraging or threatening.

"I don't think so," she replied, fidgeting in her oversized cardigan. "I was put off early on."

Despite the fact he was pointedly looking out the window, Stephen could tell Seph's gaze had fallen onto him. There were a million other things he would rather do than have that conversation–a root canal with no lidocaine, for example. He, instead, forced his focus on staring at the house sitting a couple of hundred meters away. The red trim of the roof was looking faded and the gutters were a little loose but it did not seem like the house was in total disrepair.

"I haven't been home in ages," he muttered, off-handedly.

"Oh! Weren't you born and raised in Manhattan? At least according to the Times, anyway." The sarcastic tone Persephone used made an uncomfortable weight press down into his stomach. He opted to count how many missing shingles there were on the roof.

"Ah, so there's history. That explains the dread at having to come to her door," Loki announced genially, clearly in need of some entertainment. "Wanda, you've lost our wager."

"Loki," Wanda warned, taking the time to fix him with a look before gesturing at the other two. They seemed to have been fighting a war entirely through stares.

"Which door leads outside?"

Seph rolled her eyes. "Which fucking door do you think leads outside, Stephen? I thought you were this hot shot genius doctor!"

"I am asking because that door," he gestured at the front door, "leads to the middle of nowhere in the Bronx."

"Then maybe don't take the door that leads to the Bronx, then, jackass. Or better yet, do. Until now, you've never had a problem finding a door away from me."

"That–" He killed the retort before it had a chance to meet the air and instead pivoted his questioning. "Is the key still under the mat?"

"I don't fucking know. Where did you leave the key twenty-whatever years ago you last graced your own doorstep?" With that last remark, she stormed off and up the stairs, cardigan billowing behind her, while Strange wrenched the back door open and threw himself into the field between the houses.

Wanda and Loki shared a look before making themselves scarce, elsewhere.

XX

About an hour later, Wanda opened the door to what she presumed was the main bedroom and peeked inside. Persephone lay with her limbs splayed out, dark curls smushed on one side, blinking blankly at the ceiling. With a sigh, she opened the door a bit more and let herself in.

"I hope you don't mind. Loki and I made some tea. And he might have eaten a whole sleeve of Oreos."

Seph laughed despite her gloom and shuffled to sit up against the headboard. Wanda smiled, offering her an extra mug in her hand, steam billowing from the top invitingly. "Sorry. I've been a terrible hostess."

"You're more hostage than hostess at the moment. I don't blame you." Wanda sipped at her tea for a minute in tense silence. "So, when did you and Stephen date? And how did he fuck it up?"

The responding snort was heartfelt and led to a long laugh. "No. Stephen and I have never dated."

"But there is history."

She ruffled her curls back into shape, out of nervous habit more than concern, and sighed. "Hard not to have when you've known him all your life. He grew up in that house across the way."

"I assumed as much." She gave her an encouraging smile, like a mother coaxing her teen into conversation. It worked exceptionally well on Seph. "Come on. We were neighbors growing up does not cover the level of tension from earlier."

Seph shrugged. "We both wanted to be doctors. I followed him to the same schools, undergrad and med school. We were pretty much our own support system. His sister passed, and his parents, my mom. We always figured it out together–"

There was a bit of confusion in the witch's face. "OK. That sounds really sweet, though."

"–and then one day I told him a secret. I told him I could make doors go to other places and I showed him, and I haven't seen him since."

“Ah, right.” Wanda winced. "That… sucks."

"Yep." She popped the 'p' before sipping at her tea.

"But when he got into magic, surely he–?"

"Nope." She swallowed at a lump in her throat and pushed away the ball of emotions that thinking on that day was dredging up. "That day he said I was crazy, that I drugged him. I've never heard an apology but he somehow gets to be Sorcerer Supreme."

Wanda sighed, taking a long draw from her tea before adding. "Jeez, what a dick."

"I'm assuming this scrawny, little thing is him," Loki remarked from the door, startling both women. He held out a framed picture of four children. "I am assuming he was bullied on that haircut alone."

"No worse than being the only Black kid in school in a small town in rural Nebraska," Seph retorted with a wry grin. Loki considered and shrugged, sitting at the bottom of the bed with what appeared to be a pack of saltines. "That's his little brother, Victor. He's the taller kid. The girl is his sister, Donna. That's the last picture we took before Victor died."

"Didn't his sister die, as well?" Persephone nodded. "So, they've all died. Seems like he's a harbinger of bad luck. Maybe we'd do well to stay away," he quipped, tossing the picture onto the mattress.

"Yes, tell us about harbingers of bad luck, Mr. I've Died More Times Than I Can Remember," Wanda sassed back, much to the other two's amusement.

"I have a question, Lady Hale."

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Seph is fine, Loki."

"These portals, can you make them go anywhere?"

She shook her head. "Only places I've been to, sorry. Can't send you back to whatever planet you want to run off to."

He tsk'ed. "Well, it was worth a try."

"What did you two do to get stuck with the magic police?"

"Created a whole new reality by escaping my first arrest" "Held a whole town hostage in a fake TV show." They replied simultaneously.

"Fuck. No wonder he's desperate," Seph muttered to herself. "Why doesn't he just keep you in the fancy sorcerer place?"

"Too many artifacts to play with." "Too many books with dark magic."

"OK. He's clearly in over his head. No wonder he came here. There's no way he could keep you both controlled and contained without the..." She gestured around the room to signify the magic of her bubble.

"It's nice to let him pretend." Loki offered with a wink. "It's endearing."

Persephone laughed, sparing a passing thought to the idiot who didn't know what he got into. "Well, if you're stuck here, anyway, there's plenty of bedrooms. The bathroom is down the hall. Make yourself comfortable and relax. I'm going to go get dinner started."

Wanda smiled, stretching happily. "I'll take you up on that. I need a shower and some sleep."

Loki smirked. "I'll join you in the kitchen, if you don't mind."

XX

When Stephen returned, a long while later, he was immediately drawn to the familiar smells permeating the house and warming him from the inside out as much as the soft, honeyed whispers being exchanged in the dim light of the kitchen. He found Loki and Persephone at the stove, speaking in hushed voices, closer to each other than he would have deemed appropriate–definitely flirty. Loki had changed out of the black suit into a pair of joggers and a dark green tshirt and seemed downright at home bantering with the human over the simmering pot. His ease made Stephen's left eye twitch immediately, some long-forgotten jealousy roiling in his chest and clenching his fists on their own accord. He cleared his throat loudly to pull their attention.

Seph rolled her eyes and turned back to the pot to stir, though Loki lingered close for a few extra moments before taking half a step back.

"I guess the fun police is back," she muttered under her breath and Loki chuckled.

"Loki, could you go check on Wanda, please?"

"Wanda is sleeping, so no." He turned back to his companion, whispered something into her ear that made her giggle and turn to face him, bottom lip caught between her teeth.

The way his eyes trailed from her lips to his gaze made something snap inside the sorcerer. "Just get lost, will you?"

Seph craned her neck, fixing him with a glare. "Leave him alone. This is my house." Loki grinned, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek with a smug glint in his eye.

"I need to talk to you."

"Funnily enough, I heard all I needed to two decades ago, so…"

"Persephone, I am not playing here, I–" His demand was cut short by the flickering of the walls. Invisible curtains dividing this world from the little ratty apartment in the Bronx were faltering. Just beyond the constraints of the space, a whole new area, neither New York nor Nebraska, was reflected for just a second before it flashed back.

"It's alright, darling. He knows he has no authority here. Settle down, dove," Loki cooed cautiously, eyeing their surroundings with caution. "Do you want me to give you a moment with him?"

Seph sighed, studying Loki’s expression before nodding reluctantly. "Like I have a choice with this idiot."

"Very well. I will make myself scarce." He inclined his head at her, a gentle smile attached. Once he turned, he gave Strange a dirty look with a multitude of silent warnings and retreated to the living room.

Stephen snorted. "What did you do, bribe him?"

Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the stove. "Nope. He was hungry. I fed him. You'd be surprised how much less surly he is when he's full."

He frowned. "We ate before coming here."

"Hm… what's your excuse, then?" After a minute of silence, she glanced over her shoulder to check he was still there. He was. Unfortunately. "Besides, he eats three times as much as you do. Whatever you had wouldn't have made a dent."

"How do you know that?"

She let out a single laugh. "It's this revolutionary practice called talking. You wouldn't know about it, scalpel jock."

"Here’s a thought. How about you let your disdain for me go long enough for us to have a conversation."

The spoon in her hand slammed into the pot with a splash, driving bits of stew everywhere. Reality flickered within the portal and time dilated just long enough for him to notice before everything went smashing back into place. She was good at repressing these feelings, he knew. She must have spent their decades apart trying to control herself, unaided, and now it was his fault that she was losing control.

"How can you pretend that the single worst day of my life is just water under the bridge, Stephen?" She turned from the stove and he noticed her eyes glowed faintly in their intense hazel. "You accused me of drugging you, of deceiving you! I was grieving, my life was a mess, and I suddenly opened doors to places I hadn't been to in years, entirely by accident." She began to close the space between them, rounding the kitchen table. He felt like he should make a hasty retreat but found he lacked the ability. "I was terrified. I needed you! And you left me! I had no one!" Her voice cracked at the end, eyes filling with tears as she did all she could to retain the glare she was directing at him. "And after all that shit, you find magic and you–you didn't even have the decency to come and talk to me until you needed something."

"I didn't understand what had happened, OK? I opened your closet door and stepped into my childhood bedroom, Seph! How was that logical?"

"How did you think I felt, fucker? I was the one doing it!" Her voice rose to a shout and Stephen was quick to match it.

"I'm sorry! OK? I am sorry. I shouldn't have left. I should have reached out to you sooner. I should have helped. I am sorry. I'm s o r r y, but I was a dumb kid and the girl I was in love with could make distances shrink into nothing and I panicked!"

"You should've stayed gone, then," she replied, icily. "Because the boy I was in love with died when you left me alone in that room."

Cold filled his veins, and his spine quivered at her words. This was pure hatred, plain and simple. He couldn't find it within himself to blame her, to logic his way out of his role in her misery. Every excuse he could offer could be countered with 'yes, and it was happening to her, too'. She had been his one support through every bit of rotten luck he ever had. And he left her to her fate in a strange city without a lifeline. He never imagined he would be back to have this conversation, to pick at the scabbed-over wounds he had inflicted long ago.

"Persephone… Seph…" His hands tentatively grasped for her shoulders and gave a squeeze. She flinched, but did not pull away. "I am so sorry." With a little more coaxing, he had enveloped her in his arms, his nose pressed into her hair and inhaling the familiar scent of coconut. "I'm sorry. I am sorry," he chanted, feeling the front of his shirt dampening with her tears as her shoulders relaxed and molded into him. "I am going to make it up to you. I swear."

Persephone sniffled, pulling away from his frame. "I've waited a lifetime for you to come back for me." She blinked and tears streamed down her cheeks. "But I don't want that, anymore.” She made distance, wiping at her eyes and steeling her resolve. He wanted to pull her back to him. She needed to understand his point of view, though it suddenly occurred to him that he never bothered to understand hers. “You're welcome to stay as long as you need. But this isn't fixable, Stephen."

After a tense moment of staring at each other, she skirted past him, ignoring his protests and pleads to talk, opened the pantry door and disappeared through it with a ripple. 

“Stellar job, Strange. Now we’re stuck until she gets back,” Loki commented as he slipped into the kitchen, grabbed a bowl of stew and sneaked back out. 

For once, Stephen did not argue.

[alovevigilante]

I just made a massive realization just now. It frequently happens when I do mundane things. I was putting away the laundry, angry, listening to rage against the machine when I sat down and realized that I am pissed because I keep looking at the same experiences, and people over and over, wanting them to change. And I am frustrated, because there is no change. And now I can see, why the rage guys, are raging. Because I’m pretty sure, that they, are also remembering their shit times, and getting pissed too.

I don’t want to be mad anymore. I’m 46, and I have a rage alright.... a raging headache, from my decision to reactivate the old energy of my past that makes my head explode. I am choosing, rage. Now look, the band, Rage against the machine, although I’m sorry I don’t know any of their names, is one of my favorites. Their music makes me feel, deeply. I want to go out and yes, throat punch a lot of people. And yes, I didn’t make that term up. I heard it, from a woman named Amanda, who now hates me, because I was pissed at her for not being empathetic to me in my time of feeling sorry for myself. So fuck everyone.

That, has been my life over the last year or 5. I have systematically alienated most everyone out of my existence, because I felt unvalued. Well, now my family somehow reads my posts. They have figured out where I am online, because I have told them, and some, I have not shared, because I surmise their reaction will not be one that I would most likely appreciate so much, cause sometimes I’m blunt, I swear, sometimes I talk about sex, my feelings, and people’s body parts. So now, I have done it. Family, most likely disapproving, and not into me, cause “no” on most counts. Friends, little to none if any at all, and me, rage against everyone. Oh, and I think someone has hacked my phone, and now I feel gaslighted and insane. All of this, inside my lil ole noggin. I need Advil.

So, that all said, and it was quite a load of shit to swallow... that was a gross analogy, but apropos, cause shit thoughts and feelings and occurrences, when that is how you feel, what’s a gal to do? Well, I’m sitting here, with my brain melting out of my ear, sad, lonely, and angry, because of the thoughts I think, and those thoughts feed my mood, and how I act toward people. Sigh. Ok. So here I am, with all these ass feels because of my ass thoughts because of my ass beliefs because of maybe some either truthful or made up scenarios. Let’s figure out how to go from here, to slightly better. Hmmmmm. Ok. Well, hmm. Give me a minute, cause I have recreated quite the ass scenario thinking all that crazy crap, causing the momentum of ass, to accumulate rapidly. Ok... but I like the word, scenario, cause that’s all it is, since they are all past memories, and not real time anymore unless I reactivate them. And I love the song, “scenario” by, “A tribe called quest” cause it’s a killer song, and it holds up over time. I like to sing to what lyrics I can remember, and dance.

Now I have a choice; I can go down this path of thought, or the one where when this song came out I was in high school and I hated my high school experience... I chooooooose, the loving the song! Yes! Love all the rappers, and yes, fun hip hop music! Love it, fun to dance to. Ok. Do you get me now? I’m choosing to think better thoughts. I am choosing, my mood, & as I decide, I feel accordingly.

Ok, so, now I’m back on fun music. Cool. A tribe called quest... quest for fire, a crazy ass movie with Ron pearlman and Rae dong chong. They were cavemen and women, and there was no talking in this movie. They were cool! And Rae dong, nudie. She was very brave. They all did a great job. Ok... so I’m back in the prehistoric age, where there was no language and people were kinda homosapien esque not really, but they were evolving at a fast rate, and fire, was the most valuable thing to them.

Fire, is a basic element that helped humanity become what it is today. Social groups, developed around camp fires. Stories were told, and feelings were shared. A commonality was created, and bonds were formed. We are all humans. We are all, in need of bonds, and one another. And the further away I get from humanity inside my head, the sadder I become. Love, is what we all crave. Love, is what we all share in many different ways. Falling away from love, isn’t the answer. Expecting it from others, isn’t either. Finding the love from within yourself, is.

I’ve been mad, because I’m not loving myself. I’m not valuing, me. I’m not treating myself kindly. My self talk, is all about how I’ve been shunned by humanity. Finding the love on the outside, starts from the inside first. Being able to recognize the love on the outside only happens when you’re familiar with the feel of it, on the inside. So, I think I’m gonna go take some Advil, and try that for a start. Focusing on where love is, instead of where it’s perceived as lacking, is the first step to better. On the plus side, I made some chicken and broccoli, with rice, and it smells delicious, so there’s that. 🙈🤷‍♀️🤣 #loveyourselffirst. ❤️

Appendices: laughter, as the old adage goes, is always the best medicine... even it’s at yourself, and it’s done with love. At least mine is... like my chicken and broccoli! 🍗🥦🥸😉❤️

Appendices 2: a lot of this stuff, you make up in your head, due to fear. My family is really cool, and kind. And I love them a lot. ❤️💪