#having all sorts of bloody fun for the holiday

[scarfacemarston]

Tuberculosis and the Wild West

Spoilers for RDR2 , but it’s been since 2018, y’all.  Trigger warnings for serious talk of severe terminal illness and severe stigma. As of 12/20 or 20/12, I have fixed some of the wording and added a few new things so please seriously head the warnings. Ok, first, some background: I've been studying TB since 2018; my father had a form of TB twice. I'm a historian, and one of my specialties is the history of medicine. Of course, you don't need to be a historian to write something like this. Also,  please "like" and reblog, this sort of content takes time. Tons of pics of buildings, and info below of the “lore” and IRL people.

Background info about TB that y’all need to know: TB is still horrifically deadly and still a leading cause of death. To give you all an idea about how recent genuine scientifically proven treatments were-  antibiotics targeting TB were not  discovered until the late 40s. However, sanatoriums (TB hospitals) and similar TB-related places didn't all close until 1970. My sister was born in 1977.  To give you all an idea of how treeified people were of this disease, think of the stigma with the AIDS/HIV crisis in the 1980s or the early fears surrounding Covid.

TB is one of the three oldest diseases dating back to Ancient Egypt with early evidence appearing through ancient mummies. Starting around the 18th century, western people believed TB was a disease of the elite granting someone ethereal beauty, writing prowess, and artistic talents. It was known as a "romantic disease" and a "beautiful death" - both of which we know aren’t true.  Some western beauty standards are influenced by TB including rouged lips, blush, pale skin and a thin figure accentuated with corsets. However, the appearance was due to the patient wasting away. Patients actually had bloodied lips, feverish cheeks, a pale complexion from the illness and losing a large amount of body weight. That's why TB was initially called consumption.(There have been many other names for TB including the White Plague and Captain of All These Men of Death and phthisis which is Greek in origin.) However, people eventually woke up and realized, "Oh wait, this isn't so sexy” The disease spread like wildfire, especially in the cities affecting whole families as was seen with Doc Holliday. Soon, society blamed anyone who wasn’t a white upperclass person AND those who were "immoral . They believed it was someone’s own fault if they had the disease. People held a very e*gen*c view of the disease believing their activities or who their families were caused this.  Immoral in this instance includes thieves, sex workers, bar workers, drunkards, violent people, women who had children out of wedlock, said child born out of wedlock, and homeless people. Obviously, this isn't true. It was overcrowded spaces, poor hygienic practices, but also animals, especially cows and deer. Ironically, the deer/stag plays a huge role in RDR 2. A few aspects from RDR 2 were inspired by Doc Holiday, one of the greatest gunslingers and outlaws in American history. His talents with the gun were considered by some as otherworldly. He and Wyatt Earp are most famous for the shoot-out at the OK Corral. Doc was dying of TB and headed west in order to potentially receive some medical attention, but found out that being an outlaw was great fun. Watch Tombstone for a fictionalized version of him. He had a very colorful life, but died of TB in Glenwood Springs, Colorado, at the age of 36. The same age as you know who.

This leads us to RDR 2 itself. The short answer about  survival is potentially yes, but with some major stipulations. I have traveled across the country studying TB and visiting TB sites and have seen these locations firsthand. Read further to read how survival was possible and for pictures of key locations.

IF Arthur had rested, maintained a proper fat rich diet, rested in especially clean air and partook in light exercise, he MIGHT have had a chance. I would estimate a 60-70 percent chance based on my readings of TB survivors. The chance of survival  could be more if he he headed West immediately after diagnosis. The wealthy traveled to newly built luxury resorts, but most people lived in tent colonies, so Arthur would be very familiar with the site. Hell, if the gang moved West, and followed the conditions I mentioned above, he MIGHT have been able to recover without heading to a TB colony. The the gang wasn't stable, and they were being hunted down, etc. However, people were pissed about the TB patients heading west to settle on "their land" (which is, of course, Native American land that was stolen). This pushed people to the outskirts of town and eventually, the establishment of sanatoriums which were tuberculosis treatment centers. 

Both the picture above and below would be an example of the tents used by TB patients to camp out. The top picture was probably taken around the 1890s which is Arthur’s lifetime while the picture blow is probably from a later era like the 20′s based on the clothing. City people in big cities sometimes camped out on the roofs of their flats and apartments hence the setting of the second picture. 

Due to the extreme fear, people were literally dropped off by families/friends or even government officials far outside of town. You did not want society to know that you had loved one with TB or else the stigma would affect you as well.  Later, TB patients were forcibly institutionalized. Many of these patients were ashamed of their affliction, but also felt further shame that their loved ones could be ostracized by society. I cannot stress enough how horrific this disease was and how tb psychologically affected the sufferer and its loved ones. Many tb sufferers never saw their loved ones again due to their families shunning them. I interviewed the elderly who remembered family members suffering from the disease and it still haunts their lives today. We see some of the shunning and stigma in the game, not just from the townspeople but from the gang. It's actually one of the reasons why I truly dislike a few unexpected gang members, for example.

At least Abigail, Charles, Tilly, John, and Sadie still treated him as a  human. Hell, Even Molly was kinder to him and she was really suffering in chapter 6.

I will tell you right now, realistically speaking, in no way could Arthur have done anything at all in chapter six. I’m not only talking missions, but any sort of work.  I won't go into graphic details, but one of the less graphic ones is that his hands would struggle to grasp objects, especially a gun. His joints would be too swollen. I know because I've seen it firsthand with my father and read plenty of accounts about it. Other than that, the game does a pretty great job of representing TB - however, Arthur could have been arrested or fined for spitting blood on the street which he did quite often in the game. Link goes to an academic article, but here is a more accessible link.

By 1899, people had been heading west for TB treatment for decades. People of all races headed west to Colorado, California, New Mexico, and Arizona being the prime locations. Dry air and or mountainous air were your best bets. Colorado was quite literally known as THE place for TB tourism as it was called. It was one of the first major waves of health tourism in the history of the USA. 

Another famous person and case study is Dr. Edward Livingston Trudeau. He himself suffered from tuberculosis who sent up tuberculosis huts in Saranac Lake, NY. For further study, other key locations include Asheville, North Carolina and in the mountainous regions of Pennsylvania. They huts looked like this:

These were also in Colorado Springs, Colorado Springs was full of them and they are still occasionally found in people’s yards today. 

I visited one in the Pioneer museum in Colorado Springs. I can post my pictures later, but this is one found in an outdoor museum.

The TB patients had a very strict regimen of never leaving the bed and used bed pans. Healthier patients had access to their own private toilet. Stronger patients could work on doctor approved exercises, while even healthier TB patients who weren't ready to leave facilities yet could spend the rest of their time working around the camp or sanatorium.  Below is how Arthur would have looked getting treatment if he wasn’t in a hut or tent:

Above: Women receiving treatment. Below: An 1899 TB facility. Most tuberculosis sanitoriums were built from 1905 onwards so John’s era was FULL of them. The peak of the sanitarium era though was 1920-1940ish.

The problem is TB patients had a very chance of suffering from pneumonia once TB went into remission. It's happened in tons of my case studies. If Arthur could have survived both TB AND pneumonia, then he would have been considered "Ok". Not good, but “Ok”. However, I can't predict how long he would have lived afterwards. Some TB patients had tuberculosis come in a second wave. This is, unfortunately, very common. Some people lived a few months, a few years and some lived decades after surviving the second wave.

 Fortunately, survival after two waves include people who lived hard, like Arthur. Trudeau lived till 68, and that is after 2 bouts of TB and pneumonia, with the third wave of TB being his cause of death.

This is very likely a reason why Arthur would have been in New Austin if they had kept him in the epilogue and continued the TB storyline. I personally do NOT think John was ever going to kill him. MISC NOTES: Related to RDR:  Important side note: Sex workers were especially blamed for spreading TB which makes sense because of the contact with multiple people, but it's not that different than someone who works at a factory every day, runs a shop or works at the docks, or in similar situations. Anyone could spread it. This is why it is actually technically very offensive to ask someone like Abigail if she had TB because it would be a way to imply she is unclean as a person. (Which people in the game already believe with some of the fandom similarly treating her poorly.) The history of sex work is my other specialty, so I am very familiar with their history. I will say, from what I gathered, sex workers did NOT seem to be that much more affected than others, but at the same time, we don't have a lot of records of people who weren't white upper-class Christian men. So we have these records if these people were arrested, but remember that all of the examples of people I mentioned were viewed as second-class citizens. Therefore, we have hardly any records of sex workers as actual people and historians have to be creative to find other ways to research them properly.  Modern day: TB is also becoming antibiotic-resistant at a frightening pace. This will become a massive problem. Treatment  requires at least two antibiotics - streptomycin being the main choice for the primary antibiotic. This treatment lasts months, and these antibiotics are insanely strong. They can really mess with the body's system. I've seen it. My father was one of the lucky ones only having to take the pills for 8 months. Many others take it from a year to even 18 months. Other people take the pills and undergo radiation therapy to treat TB. Modern science can't produce enough new antibiotics to outpace it, but alternative treatments do appear to be promising.  If you want me to write more about TB or for any other history questions, feel free to send me an anon/message.  Additional pics: Below: Sanitarium built around 1905.

Below: An example of a finished Sanatorium in 1911ish:

[py-dreamer]

Ooop- so it's almost mid september...

Y'know what that means?

Yea so we have a return of the stickers!!!

Well less stickers and kinda whatever this is Ig

Don't get me wrong I'm still super proud of it! I suppose it was meant to be like stickers from last year but it kinda escalated and sort off got a wee bit out of hand...

...just a tad bit...

Woooh! So anyone who's in the KNY hotpot might recognize this style and yes I did basically use the KNY birthday art format but COME ON!!!

IT'S SO CUTE!!!

LOOK AT MAH BOIII SITTING ON THAT CAKE!!!

I JUST WANNA NOM BIG BITE!!!

(If you can't tell I do really like this cake art)

I promise this time it is really 10 days till my actual birthday unlike the whoopsie 11 I did last year -_-'

And I know it's not Mk's birthday even though it looks like it is, I know. But it's the bloody format of the art and Idk how else to change it. Besides I think they slay in those birthday outfits.

And it was fun to do my sticker style in a bigger thing!

But Idk if it's cause I haven't touched my bloody stylus in ages or I've been swimming in the KNY hotpot for too long BUT WHY WAS MK'S FACE SO HARD TO DRAW FROM THE FRONT VIEW!!!

I HAD TO COMPROMISE, MANS LOOKING TOWARDS THE SIDE!!!! LIKE XIAOTIAN I LOVE YOU AND WANT TO SQUEEZE THEM CUTE LIL CHEEKS OF YOURS BUT WHY ARE YOU SO HARD TO DRAW FROM THE FRONT!??!?

HE LOOKED LIKE A BLOODY CAT WITH SLIT EYES Y'ALL!!!

Oml...regardless, I did have a lot of fun with this and had lots of fun with the decorations and such. If you were here last year, your keen memory and astute eye might notice that the cake is the same cake I used in the 'shenanigans in space' birthday stickers I did last year!

@leesbian42, @cats-and-confusion remember that lol?

So the tiny memory flower thing and star candies are an homage to that :)

(btw, pssttt @emerialyncodevenice I know we haven't talked in a while but you mentioned that you liked the bloomin cake and was thinking of using it. Feel free to use this if you like, Idk how just credit me m'kay?)

But anyways, if y'all wanna use this pic, again. Pls credit me.

AND NO REPOSTING PLEASE!!!

The decorations are meant to be sugar cookies and idk what the icing is. Since I'm thinking more of an east asian fruit cake (those really really soft fluffy spongy ones) I was thinking more like light yellow dyed whipping cream and less buttercream.

Maybe even some kinda custard Idk...(does custard go well with cake?)

The orange chunks are meant to be like mango balls or chunks and hopefully the red thingys in the middle read across as strawberries

I had to include the Monkey king plush, he's just so little!

I was tempted to draw in the other characters as plushies since they are as important to MK probably but it's getting late and I'd already been working on this baby for like 3 hours already.

All in all, I do really like this and ngl, pray this doesn't flop.

I know my single stickers don't always do well but pls y'all I like this very much...

It is nice to compare this year's work and last year and I am proud to say I have improved at least somewhat

And as for why I rarely post, well I've gotten back from my holiday but sadly I'm at that age where work and stuff will be my main focus for the time being.

Got a lot of assignments and tests y'know...

(hell I have one due the 17th and tests to do tomorrow and here I am faffing on about legos on tumblr)

And like I said, I have been blipping and dabbing in demon slayer, read a lot more KNY fics lately (I actually have a mini sketch of kamaboko squad as hashiras, heavily inspired off of other designs but even so-, if I'm in the mood I might post that!)

But enough yapping, I'll try my best to keep up this 10 days thing

(if you don't know up till my birthday for 10 days I try to post a sticker or thingy like this one)

no promises since I am busier this year but this was a lot of fun so you'll definitely see some stuff.

(I just realized I have to keep up this level of detail in my other stuff T^T save meeeeeee plsssss)

[denaliwrites]

When the Crypt Doors Creak

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader

Summary: The Doctor takes you to the most popular haunted house attraction on Earth after finding out your favorite holiday is Halloween. Turns out he might have ulterior motives for the trip, though.

Soundtrack: Grim Grinning Ghosts by Creature Feature

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Jumpscares, Canon-Typical Peril.

A skeleton dropped from the ceiling, its cheap plastic teeth chittering mockingly when you let out a bleat of terror. The Doctor shot you an amused look, apparently unfazed.

"Does nothing frighten you?" you asked, stepping around the skeleton with a miffed whine.

"Oh, plenty frightens me," he sighed, sidestepping a haphazardly placed dummy meant to look like a bloody corpse.

"Like what?" You startled at the sound of a mournful howl echoing around you. Eyes shot to the Doctor for comfort, but instead found him giving you a shit-eating grin.

"Nothing that can be found in a haunted house on Earth in the year 2375," he assured you.

The two of you rounded a corner. Immediately you yelped, confronted by a giant robot with round, hollow black eyes. Somehow, that seemed even creepier than glowing electric eyes.

The Doctor stopped beside you, staring up at the robot with a perplexed expression. "I stand corrected," he said after a moment. "So that's what the TARDIS scanners were picking up."

"What, this thing frightens you?" you asked in disbelief, though internally you admitted that it frightened you too... You were unsure why. You were so busy thinking about it that you missed that he hadn't actually brought you here for a fun outing.

The Doctor pulled out his sonic and gave the robot a quick scan. "Well, at least it's dormant," he said to himself as he read the scan. "But this is wrong. You shouldn't be here..."

"What is it?" you asked, blinking up at the thing.

"Nothing you need to worry about right this second," he tried to reassure you, his hands guiding you by the waist away from the robot.

You continued through the haunted house, but you could tell from that moment that the Doctor's mind was elsewhere. You tried to catch his attention a couple times, but he was fully engrossed in his thoughts. And, occasionally, his sonic scans.

Around another bend, you came across a different robot. This one was much cuter upon first glance, but something about it drove you to stand far away. The Doctor, however, approached without hesitation and did another scan.

"This is all wrong," he sighed, turning to look around the room. It was dark, and at least you were having trouble making anything out other than the dummy ahead of you. "Where are they getting these things?"

You edged the room, trying to keep as far from the thing as you could. "Doctor, I want to leave," you moaned, hands desperately searching the dark wall behind you for an exit.

He didn't seem to hear you, continuing to scan and talk to himself. The last thing you saw before accidentally falling through an exit door was the doctor scratching the back of his head, and the last thing you heard was him saying, "You shouldn't be here."

You weren't sure how long you fell, or when you landed. You'd gone unconscious at some point. All you knew was just that you woke up in some sort of cell.

"Hello?" you called out, rattling the bars in various locations in the hope that they might give. You were disappointed to find that they were pretty solidly in place.

"Hello?" you tried again.

This time, you were answered by footsteps that echoed across the walls as they got closer. "Ah, you're awake," a displaced voice said, and you got the distinct impression that whoever had spoken was not a particularly nice individual.

Though, maybe the whole "being locked in a cell" thing should've given that away.

"I was wondering when the hypnosis would wear off." With that, the source of the voice stepped into view. You were surprised to see that it was just an ordinary guy -- well, a rich guy, going by the fancy suit he wore and the way he was immaculately groomed, but. Otherwise, perfectly ordinary.

"Hypnosis?" you asked, trying to think back to when that could've possibly happened.

"Yeah. Nothing particularly strong or damaging. Needed to get you from Point A to Point B and you were... well. Uncooperative."

It was then you noticed a fresh cut on his lip. Nice.

"Well, I'd say sorry," you started, your voice mocking, "but I'm pretty sure kidnapping is a little higher on the list than punching the guy trying to kidnap you, as far as grievances go."

"Mm," was all he offered by way of response, starting to pace.

"What am I doing here, anyway?"

"Oh, yes, let me just tell you my whole grand plan so that you can formulate some clever way to stop it."

Ouch. Okay. He had you there.

"Don't know what kind of idiots you've been dealing with, but I'm not falling for that bullshit."

"Oh, I wouldn't call it bullshit," the Doctor's voice came suddenly from somewhere to your left. You turned, but he was nowhere to be seen. "Curious, this one," he continued, referring to you. "Asks all sorts of great questions."

"You call that a great question?"

"Well, give it a minute. The hypnosis is probably still wearing off."

"Uh, Doctor, where are you?" you asked, as if you hadn't just been insulted by one man and complimented by another.

"See, that's a good question. Where am I?"

"You're the one that's supposed to answer that, Doctor," you sighed, eyes still scanning around trying to find him.

"See, the thing is," the Doctor started, and you heard the sound of a switch flipping. "That Cyberman, and that Dalek. They're just dormant. Not dead."

You had no idea where this was going, but by the look on the face of your captor, you knew that he knew exactly where the Doctor was and what he was doing.

"And, well. All dormant things wake up eventually, don't they? Hmm, I wonder what this button does."

The sound of an alarm filled the room, and a robotic voice began instructing patrons to evacuate the building.

"Well, at least you had the decency to give them a chance to get out. Couldn't afford the lawsuits?" the Doctor asked, something in his voice rather cruel.

You looked to your captor, almost laughing at the panic on his face.

"Now, you managed to capture a Dalek and a Cyberman and who knows what else is in the parts of that maze we didn't see. What do you think they'll do, now that I've turned off the machine keeping them under? I wonder..."

The man made to leave, but the Doctor stopped him with a tut. "Let my friend go, Jeremy."

Jeremy (apparently) hesitated, then threw the cell key to you and ran for the exit.

"Oh, good enough, I suppose," the Doctor sighed.

You let yourself out of the cell and turned towards the exit "Jeremy" had run through.

"Ah-ah," the Doctor chided gently. "Not that way."

"Why not?" you asked the air around you, looking around for any other way out. There was none.

"That's where all the monsters are gonna be."

Oh, right.

"Then where am I supposed to go?"

You heard him make that weird sound that came from the back of his throat. "Well. The TARDIS, obviously."

"The TARDIS isn't here, Doctor."

"Sure she is. Look in the loo."

You blinked stupidly for a moment, then turned and, indeed, found a restroom sign. Stepping through the door, you were met with the beautiful deep blue wood of the Doctor's ship.

"Have you been in here the whole time?" you asked the open air.

"Come in and find out, won't you?"

You stepped inside to see the Doctor smiling at you from the console. You ran to him and threw your arms around him. He hugged you back, holding on tight as he buried his face in your hair.

"I'm glad you're okay," he murmured, placing a kiss to your temple.

You pulled away from him, softly clearing your throat. "Shouldn't we help Jeremy? Or, at least, get rid of all those 'monsters.'"

"There's no helping Jeremy now," the Doctor sighed. "And all those monsters will self-destruct or go live out the rest of their lives in solitude once they realize they're all alone."

"That's... sad. Shouldn't we take them back to where they belong?"

The Doctor looked contemplative and sad for a moment. "No."

You wanted to press him on that, but something told you not to. Something about the haunted expression on his face.

"... Can we go to a normal haunted house?" you asked instead. "One in my time."

"You wanna do that again?" he asked with a stunned laugh. "You were terrified the whole time!"

"Doctor, that's the point!"

[bucketfullofstrawberries]

Hi! Came here to tell you I didn't know the meaning of a comfort character until Edgar. Nowadays when I'm feeling down, all I have to do is make a drawing of him and it inmediately brightens my mood.

You have made a character who is genuinely impactful in other people's lives, who feels like a person in his own right. Who is and always will be loved by many, who doesn't feel like he's just fiction.

He is wonderful, and everyone who has made art of him knows that. And we all are grateful that you made him.

❤️

EXCUUUSEEE MEEEEEE UOU CANNOT SAYY ALL OF THAT AND KEEP YOURSELF ANONYMOUS

EXCU-HU-HUUSEEE MEEEE,,,, OUUHH.... OUHOOOA......... I'M CRYING ALL OVER YOU IM WEEPING AND I'M CRYING AND IM TURNING YOU INTO A SOPPING WET THING BEAST WITH MY TEARS, FUCK YOU!!!!!!

No, SERIOUSLY though- THIS IS SO FUCKING SWEET AND HEARTFELT WHAT THE HELLL!!??? WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!! IT TOOK ME A GOOD FEW HOURS TO ACTUALLY SIT DOWN AND WRITE SOMETHING FOR THIS WHOLE THING BECAUSE I JUST 💥IM NEARLY FUCKING SPEECHLESS HERE, GOOD FUCKING MORNING,

Edgar being a comfort character to you is SUCH a MASSIVE fucking compliment, even if I don't have a bloody CLUE who you are I am CRYING ALL OVER YOU SO MUCH!!!! BECAUSE!!! THAT'S KIND OF WHAT MY AIM WAS, IN A WAY???

I really don't know HOW I pipelined from a basic white Geography Teacher looking beta FUCK to this.. whimsical, Jolly Holiday, Mary Poppins-esq British man and yet STILL kept him as a Narrator, but I DID!! BUT OVER TIME, instead of keeping him as a sopping wet white cat crying in a corner, I slowly started building up a little story for him and thought to myself "..Huh. It'd be cool if he was quite different from the majority of the Narraverse... maybe I could make him fun and full of whimsy!! It might make people happy!". Because I like to make things different most of the time, it's something I've managed to be quite well known for! AS WELL AS THAT, It's an absolute joy to draw and write him as a character for myself BUT -- seeing people genuinely enjoy him as a person is something I LOVE to see because I LIKE making people happy.. and having him become a COMFORT CHARACTER, of all things, is such an honor and a privilege.. it wasn't anticipated from me at the start at ALL, But I'm SO happy you see him that way!!

And I FULLY SUPPORT, ENCOURAGE AND CONDONE Edgar being used as a source of ANY COMFORT, ANY WHICH WAY POSSIBLE!!! If he's a source of feel good energy for you, then go NUTS!! DO WHAT YOU LIKE WITH HIM, I'M NOONE TO JUDGE!! This doesn't just go out to you, either, this goes out to EVERYONE and ANYONE!!

And I'm sure Edgar HIMSELF will be MORE than delighted to provide some sunshine to your rainy days and moonlight to your cloudy night skies! I MEAN IT!! I REALLY DO!!

It brings me IMMENSE joy that I'm able to make characters that impact peoples lives in such a positive way.. because I KNOW how that feeling feels because so many characters other PEOPLE have made makes ME feel the same way.. and if EDGAR can achieve THAT with a wider audience then that's something I'll always be proud of.. and that's something that encourages me to keep pumping out content because it's something I LOVE to do and I'm more than happy to make sure people know that they're loved and they SHOULD feel loved, not just by me, but by Edgar himself. He's been carefully made over a YEAR in order to be a pleasant and good character and I'm SO happy I can convey that well enough for people to recognize him as good, because he's MEANT to be good,

But having someone say this to me UP FRONT, IN MY FACE, WALTZING IN THROUGH MY DOOR LIKE IT'S NONE OF THEIR BUSINESS IF I'LL CHOKE AND CRY ABOUT IT, I'm literally SO grateful, ETERNALLY grateful that I'm able to provide a character to be.. well, a sort of place of Sanctuary. Making peoples faces light up, getting excited about him.. it's nothing that makes me feel egotistical or big headded, it's just. Lovely to know that I'm making people happy with what I do. That's what I've wanted to do for a majority of my life, make smiles and bring cheer. I guess Edgar's -- kind of the EMBODIMENT of that.

He won't always be a Narrator... I've made my mind up about that. But he'll always live on with that significant mark he made in the community he was founded upon. THIS community, this lovely community that isn't always picture perfect but there's just SO many extraordinary and sweet people in it that I'll always be fond of it, of this. Of everyone!! Of The Stanley Parable, Narraverse and Paraverse & All of the Above and below!

TLDR: I wanted to make a Character that people could find joy within. And I'm proud to say that I did. And I'm so so SO grateful to those who keep the magic alive and love and support not me, but the journey Edgar's had and how far it's taken him.

I love you guys so so so sosososososo SOOOOO much it's insane From who you are, to what you do and what you make..even just the little things you are SO loved..

And Edgar loves you guys ALL the MORE!! <3

..AND YES I DID START CRYING WHILE WRITING THIS, SHUT UP, I'M EMOTIONAL, FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

My Bloody Valentine

Masterlist pt 1

Masterlist pt 2

"So...you were the one who found the bodies?" Sam asked the roommate to this girl named Alice, who had died along with this guy....by them eating each other to death. "There was blood everywhere...and...other stuff...I think Alice was already dead." the girl said, upset. "But Russell wasn't?" Sam asked her. "I think he was, mostly, except...he was still sort of...chewing a little." she replied and I do everything in my powerto not gag and throw up. "Oh. Uh-huh." Sam mutters.

"How do two people even do that--Eat each other to death?" the girl asked. "That's a really good question." I said as I hold back the vomit that was creeping up on me. "Now, the last few days, did you notice her acting erratically?" I asked her. "How do you mean?" the girl asked me, confused. "I mean, did she seem...unusually hostile, aggressive?" I asked and the girl shakes her head.

"No way. Alice never drank, never even swore. She was a nice girl. And I'm talking, like, a nice girl--Like she still had her promise ring, if you know what I mean." she said. "She was a virgin?" Sam asked her and she nods. "No premarital. I used to wonder how she did it. I mean, you know, didn't do it. It was her first date in months. She was so excited." the girl said. "Apparently, they were both pretty excited." I joked and Sam rolls his eyes.

"How'd it go?" Dean asked us as we walked into the motel room, bringing in a bag of fast food and a small grocery bag. "Um...No EMF, no sulfur. Ghost possession and demonic possession are both probably out." Sam said. "Hmm. That's where I was puttin' my money." Dean said. "Nope." Sam said as Dean rubs his eyes. "Well, then what, then?" he asked and Sam and I shrug.

"Oh, guys! At the coroner's-- you didn't see these bodies. I mean, these two started eating a- and they just...kept going. I mean, their stomachs were full. Like - like...Thanksgiving-dinner full. Talk about co-dependent." Dean said. "Well...I mean, we got our feelers out. Not much more we can do tonight." I said as I sit on the bed and pulled out a chocolate bar out of the grocery bag and start to eat on it.

"All right. I'm just gonna go through some files...at the library. So you two can have fun." Sam said and I look over at him as I break another piece of the chocolate in pop it in my mouth. "Sorry?" Dean and I said. "Go ahead. Unleash the kraken. See you two later or in the morning." Sam said.

"What are we doing?" Dean asked Sam. "Dean, it's Valentine's day. Your favorite holiday, remember? I mean, you used to always call it-- Uh, unattached drifter Christmas? But now that you're clearly attached..." Sam said as he nods at me. "Figured you two would like some alone time." 

"Oh, yeah. Well...be that as it may...I don't know. Guess I'm not feeling it tonight." Dean said, shrugging. Then Sam looks over at me. "Honestly, I'm fine. Besides, never really was a huge fan of Valentine's Day. I'd rather have an unexpected romantic gesture on any other day." I said as I break another piece of chocolate and eat it. "This is why you're my favorite." Dean said, joking, and I let out a playful scoff.

Dean takes a sip and I look over at Sam, who seemed surprised and confused. "What?" we asked him. "That's when a dog doesn't eat-- That's when you know something's really wrong." Sam said as he mainly stares at Dean in surprise. "Remarkably patronizing concern duly noted. Nothing's wrong. We gonna work or what?" Dean said as he sits down at the table and Sam eyes him, worriedly, until he eventually sits down at the table and I join them and we get to work.

A moment later, Sam turns and looks out the window them he sniffs the air. "You okay?" I asked Sam, concerned. "Yeah, I'm fine." Sam said as he slowly turns back and gets back to work.

"Agent Marley, you just can't stay away." the doctor, Dr Corman, said as Dean, Sam and I walk into the morgue the next day. "Heard you tagged another double suicide." Dean said. "Well, I just finished closing them up." The doctor said then Dean turns to me and Sam.

"Dr. Corman, these are my partners, special agent Cliff and Jett." Dena introduced and Corman nods at us. "Agent Cliff and Agent Jett. I've finished my prelims. I pulled the organ sets and sent off the tox samples." he said. "Great. You mind if we take a look at the bodies?" Sam asked him. "Not at all. But like I said -their...Good-and-plenties are already tupperwared." Corman said. "Super." I said, a bit of sarcasm in my voice.

"Leave the keys with Marty up front. And please, gentlemen and lady...refrigerate after opening..." Corman said and he leaves and we go over to the Tupperware filled with organs and we put on gloves and start to examine the remains.

"Hey." Dean said, after nudging my side. I turn to him and he hands me one of the hearts we were examining. "Be my Valentine?" He asked me and I chuckle a bit. "Oh, how sweet. And they say romance is dead." I said, sarcastically, and Dean chuckles lightly.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second." Sam said as he looks at the heart in my hands. "These hearts both have identical marks. Check this out. It looks like some kind of letter." He said as he takes the heart out of my hands and examines it. "Oh, no." He mutters. "What?" Dean and I asked. "I think it's Enochian." Sam said.

"You mean like angel scratches? So you think it's like the tagging on our ribs?" I asked him. "(Y/n), I don't know." Sam said, unsure. "Ah, hell." Dean said and he trembles hid gloves, pulls out his phone and dials a number. "Cas, it's Dean. Yeah, room 31-c, basement level...St. James medical center." He said. "I'm there now." Cas said as he appears in front of us, still holding the phone to his ear.

"Yeah, I get that." Dean said as he stares at him. "I'm gonna hang up now." Cas said. "Right." said Dean and Cas hangs up the phone then goes over to the table and picks up one of the hearts. "You're right, Sam. These are angelic marks. I imagine you'll find similar marks on the other couples' hearts as well--" Cas said.

"So, what are they? I mean, what do they mean?" Sam asked. "It's a mark of union. This man and woman were intended to mate." Cas said. "Okay, but who put them there?" I asked, confused. "Well, your people call them Cupid." Cas replied and I furrow my brow at this.

"A what?" Sam asked. "What human myth has mistaken for Cupid is actually a lower order of angel. Technically it's a cherub, third-class." Cas explains. "Cherub?" Dean asked. "Yeah, they're all over the world. There are dozens of them." said Cas. "You mean the little flying fat kid in diapers?" I asked Cas, to clarify. "They're not incontinent." Castiel said.

"Okay, anyway. So, what you're saying--" Sam said, trying to figure out what was being said. "What I'm saying is a Cupid has gone rogue and we have to stop him--before he kills again." Castiel said. "Naturally." Sam said. "Of course we do." Dean grumbles.

Later, we go to a resturant and the waitress brings Dean a cheeseburger, Sam a salad and me a grilled chicken sandwich. Dean then looks over at Cas, who was sitting across from me and Dean and next to Sam.

"So, what, you just happen to know he likes the cosmos at this place?" Dean asked him. "This place is a nexus of human reproduction. It's exactly the kind of-of garden the Cupid will come to-- to pollinate." Cas said as Dean puts ketchup on his cheeseburger and was about to eat it but put it back down at Cas' last words.

"Wait a minute. You're not hungry?" I asked him. "No." Dean said and I furrow my brow at him. "What? I'm not hungry." Dean said. "Then you're not gonna finish that?" Cas said and he takes Dean's cheeseburger and begins to eat it.

After a few minutes, Cas looks around then said. "He's here." and we look around. "Where? I don't see anything." Sam said. "There." Cas said as he nods towards the couple across from us. "You mean the same-side-of-the-booth couple over there?" Dean asked as he nods towards the couple. "Meet me in the back." Cas tells us as he gets up and leaves.

"Cas, where is he?" Sam asked Cas after we make it to the back of the restaurant. "I have him tethered." Cas assures then he begins a chant. "Zoda kama mahrana. Manifest yourself." he said and we look around. "So, where is he?" Dean asked, when suddenly a chubby, almost naked man appears and grabs Dean in a hug.

"Oof!" Dean said. "Here I am!" the cupid said, happily. "Help!" Dean yells and I had to hold back a laugh. "Oh, help is on the way. Yes, it is. Yes, it is." Cupid said then he drops Dean then walks over to Cas. "Hello, you!" he said and he picks Castiel up, hugging him.

"This is Cupid?" I asked Cas. "Yes." Cas replied and Cupid sets him down then turns to me. "C'mere you!" He said as he walks over to me. "Oh God, no...!" I said but he grabs me and pulls me into a hug. "Ugh, feels like I'm being hugged by a boa constrictor." I groaned as he sets me down and looks over at Sam.

"And look at you, huh?" He said. "No." Sam said and he turns away but Cupid appears in front of him, hugging him too. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes!" he said. "Is this a fight? Are we in a fight?" Dean asked. "This is...Their handshake." Cas said. "I don't like it." Dean said. "No one likes it." Cas said as I hold my side. "I think he bruised a rib." I said and Cupid stops hugging Sam and turns to us.

"What can I do for you?" he asked. "Why are you doing this?" Castiel asked him. "Doing what?" Cupid asked, confused. "Your targets-- the ones you've marked--They're slaughtering each other." Cas tells him. "What? They are?" Cupid said, almost like he was shocked. "Listen, birthday suit, we know, okay? We know you been flittin' around, popping people with your poison arrow, making them murder each other!" Dean yells and Cupid looked a bit upset.

"What we don't know is why." Cas said. "You think that I--Well, uh...I don't know what to say." Cupid said then he walk away a few feet from us and begins to cry.

"Should...Should somebody maybe...go talk to him?" I asked. "Yeah, that's a good idea. Give 'em hell, Cas." Dena tells Cas, who sighs then walks over to Cupid. "Um...look. We didn't mean to, um...hurt your feelings." Cas said then Cupid hugs him.

"Love is more than a word to me, you know. I love love. I love it! And if that's wrong, I don't want to be right!" Cupid exclaims. "Yes, yes. Of course. I, uh...I have no idea what you're saying." Cas said, groaning. "I was just on my appointed rounds. Whatever my targets do after that that's nothing to do with me. I- I was following my orders. Please brother. Read my mind. Read my mind, you'll see." Cupid said as he lets go of Cas then Cas stares at him for a few moments.

"He's telling the truth." Castiel said as he turns to us. "Jiminy Christmas. Thank you." Cupid said, happily.  "Wait, wait, you said--You said you were just following orders?" I asked and Cupid nods. "Whose orders?" I asked. "Whose?" Cupid said then he begins to laugh. "Heaven, silly. Heaven." He said.

"Why does heaven care if Harry meets Sally?" Dean asked him. "Oh, mostly they don't. You know, certain bloodlines, certain destinies. Oh, like yours." Cupid said, nodding towards Dean and Sam. "What?" Sam asked. "Yeah, the union of John and Mary Winchester--Very big deal upstairs, top priority arrangement. Mm." Cupid said.

"Are you saying that you fixed-up our parents?" Dean asked him. "Well, not me, but...Yeah. Well, it wasn't easy, either. Ooh, they couldn't stand each other at first. But when we were done with them--Perfect couple." Cupid said.

"Perfect?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Cupid said, nodding.

"They're dead!" Dean yells. "I'm sorry, but...the orders were very clear. You and Sam needed to be born. Your parents were just, uh...meant to be." Cupid said then he begins to sing. "A match made in heaven- heaven!" Then Dean punches Cupid. "Son of a bitch!" Dean yells but Cupid disappears.

"Where is he? Where'd he go?!" Dean asked, angrily. "I believe you upset him." Cas said, plainly. "Upset him?!" Dean yelled and I go up to him and place my hands on his chest. "Dean. Enough!" I said. "What?" Dean asked me, angrily. "You just punched a Cupid!" I shouted at him. "I punched a dick!" Dean screams.

"Um...Are we gonna talk about what's been up with you lately or not?" Sam asked Dean. "Or not." Dean growls as he pushes me aside and walks off while I scoff.

"Hey. So, uh, this guy was not marked by Cupid, but his death is definitely suspicious." Sam tells us over the phone. He had gone to the medical center again to investigate that a man had died from eating a crap ton of Twinkies. Dean and I were walking to the Impala, bout to head back to the motel, as Dean has his phone on speaker so that I could hear it while I had a bag of Oreo cookies in my hand and was eating them.

"Yeah, well, (y/n) and I just went through the police blotter, and counting him, that's eight suicides since Wednesday and 19 ODs-- That's way out of the seasonal batting average." Dean said. "Yeah, if there's a pattern here, it ain't just love. It's a hell of a lot bigger than we thought." Sam said.

"Yeah, all right. We'll see you in 10." Dean said. "Yeah, okay." Sam said and Dean hangs up and we get into the car. I had eaten a couple of the cookies when Dean looks over at me. "If there is any crumbs in this car, you're cleaning it." He warns me as I swallow the cookie. "Sorry, Dean...I'll be careful." I said as I put another cookie in my mouth. 

"What is going on with you?" He asked me and I shrug. "I don't know. Suddenly, I've been having a strong craving for any chocolate of some kind!" I said after swallowing the cookie. "Oh God, please tell me you're not pregnant." He groans. "No! At least....I don't think so." I said as I try to think. The last time Dean and I had sex was only about a couple of weeks ago when Sam said he was going out for awhile and Dean and I were able to get a couple of rounds in before Sam came back in. 

But there was no way the cravings would've kicked in that soon....could it? I mean this craving started to happen when we got here. 

I look over at Dean as he gives me a look that says Are you sure? "Look, if it continues, I'll go get the test." I said and Dean nods and he starts up the car and we head off.

"Dean?" I said after a moment of silence. "Hmmm." Dean hums. "Do you think...those Cupids set up my parents?" I asked and Dean turns his head to look at me for a moment before turning his head back to the road. "I don't know...maybe...I mean, it's a possibility since you're Ariel’s vessel." Dean said and I think. "But it seems any angel we've been in contact with and when they see her, they act surprised." I said and Dena shrugs. "Maybe not then..." he said as I think again.

"You think...they set...us up?" I asked Dean and immediately he shakes his head. "No." He said, firmly. "How do you know?" I asked him. "Because if they planned for me and Sam to start the apocalypse, I doubt it." He said and I give him a look. "So you're saying I might have been a mistake or a fluke?" I asked, a bit of a laugh in my voice. He smirks a bit, taken noticed of the laugh in my voice then said. "Possibly. But if you were planned or a mistake, I can assure you...."

Dean looks over at me then takes my hand in his right hand and holds it. "...meeting you was no mistake. And I believe my feelings for you are real." Dean said and I smile at him. "You can be real sweet, you know that?" I said and Dean chuckles. "Oh, yeah. I'm a really Prince Charming." He jokes and we share a laugh.

"What the hell does a demon got to do with this, anyway?" Dean asked Sam as he paces the motel room. After we got back to the motel room, Sam walked in, carrying a briefcase, and told us that he had encountered a demon on his way here. He killed the demon and took the case with him. "Believe me, I got no idea." Sam said to me, Dean and Cas, who had stayed at our room as we went out investigating.

"You okay?" I asked him. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be all right." Sam assures me as Dean looks at the briefcase. "Let's crack her open. What's the worst that could happen, right?" Dean asked and he opens the case and a bright light shines inside.

"Whoa!" Sam said, in awe. "What the hell was that?" I asked as Dean shuts the case. "It's a human soul. It's starting to make sense." Castiel said as he takes a bite out of his burger. "Now, what about that makes sense?" Sam asked him. "And when did you start eating?" Dean asked Cas, nodding at the burger in his hands.

"Exactly. My hunger-- it's a clue, actually." Cas said. "For what?" The boys and I asked, in unison. "This town is not suffering from some love-gone-wrong effect. It's suffering from hunger. Starvation, to be exact--Specifically...famine." Cas said. "Famine? As- as in the horseman?" Sam asked, shocked, and Cas nods. "Great. Th- th-that's freaking great." Dean grumbles.

"I thought famine meant starvation, like as in, you know, food." I said, questioning. "Yes. Absolutely. But not just food. I mean, everyone seems to be starving for something--Sex, attention, drugs, love..." Cas said. "Well, that explains the puppy-lovers that Cupid shot up." Dean said. "Right. The cherub made them crave love, and then Famine came, and made them rabid for it." Cas said and a light bulb goes off in my brain. 

"That would explain my chocolate cravings." I said as I look at Dean, who seemed a bit relieved. "Okay, but what about you? I mean, since when do angels secretly hunger for White Castle?" Dean asked Castiel. "It's my vessel-- Jimmy. His, uh, appetite for red meat has been touched by Famine's effect." Cas said as he takes another bite of burger.

"So, Famine just rolls into town and everybody goes crazy?" I asked and Cas nods. "And then will come Famine riding on a black steed. He will ride into the land of plenty...and great will be the Horseman's hunger, for he is hunger. His hunger will seep out and poison the air." Cas recites and he looks over at us. "Famine is hungry. He must devour the souls of his victims." He said. 

"So, that's what was in the briefcase--The twinkie dude's soul?" Dean asked. "Lucifer has sent his demons to care for Famine, to feed him, make certain he'll be ready." Cas said. "Ready for what?" Sam asked. "To March across the land." Cas replied.

"Famine?" Dean asked Cas who continues to eat his burger while Sam was in the bathroom. "Yes." Cas said through the mouthful of burgers. "So, what, this whole town is just gonna eat, drink, and screw itself to death?" I asked Cas and he nods. "We should stop it." he said. "Yeah, that's a great idea." Dean said with sarcasm. "How?" I asked Cas.

"How did you stop the last horseman you met?" Cas asked us. "War got his mojo from this ring. And after we cut it off, he just tucked tail and ran. And everybody that was affected, it was like they woke up out of a dream. You think Famine's got a class ring, too?" Dean said. "I know he does." Castiel said. "Well, okay. L- let's track him down and get to chopping." I said. "Yeah." Cas said then he eyes his empty fast food bag sadly.

"What are you, the Hamburglar?" Dean asked him. "I've developed a taste for ground beef." Cas replied. "Well, have you even tried to stop it?" Dean asked him. "I'm an angel. I can stop anytime I want." Cas said. "Whatever. Sam, (y/n) let's roll." Dean said and I nod, even though I keep feeling this strong urge to eat chocolate. Unfortunately, I ate all of the cookies.

"Dean...I, um...I can't. I can't go." Sam said as he walks out of the bathroom, looking tired. "What do you mean?" Dean asked. "I think it got to me, Dean. I think I'm hungry for it..." Sam said. "Hungry for what?" Dean asked, confused, but my eyes widen in fear. "Demon blood?" I asked and Sam hangs his head. "You got to be kidding me." Dean grumbles then he turns to Castiel.

"You got to get him out of here. You got to beam him to, like, Montana. Anywhere but here." Dean tells her. "It won't work. He's already infected. The hunger is just gonna travel with him. The same goes for (y/n)." Castiel said and I look down.

"Well, then, what do we do?" Dean asked. "You go cut that bastard's finger off." Sam said and Dean stares at him then turns to me and Cas. "You heard him." Dean said and I nod. "But, Dean...before you go, you better...you better lock me down - but good." Sam said.

Minutes later, I cuff Sam to the bathroom sink pipe. "All right, well, just hang in there. We'll be back as soon as we can." I tell him. "Be careful. And...hurry." Sam tells me and I nodded. "We'll do our best." I assure him as I place a hand on his shoulder and give him a reassuring smile.

Dean and I exit the bathroom, and Castiel blocks the bathroom door with a dresser.

"Hey, Marty. Is Dr. Corman around?" Dean asked the secretary as we walked into the hospital and I was eating on a chocolate bar. "You haven't heard?" Marty asked us. "Heard what?" Dean and I asked. "Guy's been dry for the last 20 years, but this morning, he left work, went home, and drank himself to death." Marty said.

"It's Famine." Cas said and I turn to him and shake my head. "Pardon?" Marty asked then Dean turns to him. "Would you give us a minute, please?" Dean asked him. "Sure." said Marty. "Thanks." Dean said and him, Cas and I walk away.

"Crap! I really kind of liked this guy." Dean said. "They haven't harvested his soul yet." Castiel said. "Well, if we want to play follow the soul to get to Famine, our best shot starts with the doc, here." I said and Dean nods.

Later, Dean and I were in the Impala, in front of the hospital, and once again I was eating on some chocolate bar when Dean looks over at me. "You're gonna get a stomach ache, you know that?" He said and I turn to him. "Oh thanks, Dad. I didn't know that." I said, sarcastically. "Look, I've been trying to stop but...." I said when I look at the rear view mirror and see Cas sitting in the backseat with another burger.

"Are you serious?" Dean asked once he noticed Cas' appearance. "These make me...very happy." Cas said. "How many is that?" I asked him. "I lost count. It's in the low hundreds." Cas said then he looks at Dean.

"What I don't understand is...where is your hunger, Dean?" he asked. "Huh?" said Dean. "Well, slowly but surely, everyone in this town is falling prey to Famine, but so far, you seem unaffected." Cas said. "Hey, when I want to drink, I drink. When I want sex, I go get it. Same goes for a sandwich or a fight." Dean said as he pats my thigh.

"So...you're saying you're just well-adjusted?" Cas asked. "God, no. I'm just well-fed." Dean replied and I roll my eyes. "Look there." Cas said as we see a man in a black suit coming out of the hospital, carrying a briefcase. He drives off so we follow him in the Impala.

"Demons. You want to go over the plan again?" Dean asked Cas after we followed the guy to the resturant but Cas kept eating his burger. "Hey, happy meal. The plan?" Dean asked. "I take the knife, I go in, I cut off the ring hand of Famine, and I meet you back here in the parking lot." Cas said. "Well, that sounds foolproof." Dean grumbles and Cas disappears.

A few minutes had passed and Cas had not returned. "This is taking too long." Dean growls and he gets out of the car. "You stay here, okay?" Dean said to me as he turns to look at me through the window. "You sure?" I asked him. "You're infected by his influence, I don't want you near him." Dean said and I nod.

"If I don't come back out, go back to the motel and get Sam." Dean said. "But what about his demon blood hunger?" I asked. "I'm aware of that but...it might be our last hope if I don't make it." Dean said. "Okay, be careful." I tell him and he nods and he stares at me for a moment. "I love you." He said and I give him a small smile. "I love you too." I said and he walks away from the car and towards the Resturant.

*3rd Person's POV*

"Cas! Cas." Dean calls out as he enters the building, only to see Castiel kneeling on the floor, stuffing his mouth with raw ground meat. Two demons attack Dean, and bring him to Famine, and old man in a wheelchair with a breathing tube in his nose. "The other Mr. Winchester." Famine said. 

"What did you do to him?" Dean asked as he gestures to Castiel. "You sicced your dog on me. I just threw him a steak." Famine said. "So this is your big trick? Huh? Making people cuckoo for cocoa puffs?" Dean asked.  Doesn't take much--hardly a push. Oh, America--all-you-can-eat, all the time. Consume, consume. A swarm of locusts in stretch pants. And yet, you're all still starving because hunger doesn't just come from the body, it also comes from the soul." Famine said.

"It's funny, it doesn't seem to be coming from mine." Dean said, smirking. "Yes. I noticed that. Have you wondered why that is? How you could even walk in my presence?" Famine asked him. "Well, I like to think it's because of my strength of character." Dean said, sarcastically. "I disagree." Famine said and he moves closer to Dean and touches him.

"Yes. I see. That's one deep, dark nothing you got there, Dean. Can't fill it, can you? Not with food or drink. Not even with sex." Famine said. "Oh, you're so full of crap." Dean growls. "Oh, you can smirk and joke and lie to your brother and your pretty little girlfriend, lie to yourself, but not to me! I can see inside you, Dean. I can see how broken you are, how defeated. You can't win, and you know it. But you just keep fighting. Just...keep going through the motions. You're not hungry, Dean, because inside, you're already...dead." Famine said.

"Let him go." a voice commanded and Famine turns to face Sam, whose face is stained with blood. "Sam..." Famine said. "Sammy, no!" Dean said as two of the five demons guarding Famine move to attack Sam. "Stop! No one lays a finger on this sweet little boy. Sam, I see you got the snack I sent you." Famine said to him. "You sent?" Sam asked. "Don't worry. You're not like everyone else. You'll never die from drinking too much. You're the exception that proves the rule. Just the way...Satan wanted you to be. So..." Famine said and he lifts his hands and gestures at the demons guarding him.

"...cut their throats. Have at them!" he said. "Sammy, no!" Dean yells. "Please, be my guest." Famine said to Sam. Sam lifts his hand, closes his eyes, and pulls all five demons from their hosts at once. Dean watches in shock while (y/n) runs in, after seeing Sam entering the building. She also looks on in shock as the demon smoke pools on the floor.

"No." Sam said, lowering his hand. "Well...Fine. If you don't want them...then I'll have them." Famine said then he opens his mouth and devours all five of the demon souls. Sam steps forward and extends his hand toward Famine. "I'm a Horseman, Sam. Your power doesn't work on me." Famine sneers. "You're right. But it will work on them." Sam said and he uses his power to rip out all the souls Famine consumed.

Famine screams out in pain while Sam's nose bleeds with the effort, but the demon souls explode out of Famine and Famine slumps, his eyes empty. Dean and (y/n) look at Sam, as does Castiel.

Hours later, Castiel, Dean and (y/n) make it to Bobby's house and put Sam inside of the panic room. Castiel and Dean stand outside the panic room door as Sam screams. "Let me out of here, please! Help!" he screams as Dean looks down and drinks from the bottle of whiskey.

"That's not him in there. Not really." Castiel assures Dean. "I know." Dean mutters. "Dean, Sam just has to get it out of his system. Then he'll be--" Castiel said then Dean shakes his head, slightly. "Listen, I just, uh...I just need to get some air." Dean said and he heads upstairs.

(y/n), who was sitting in the kitchen, looks up and sees Dean walking up the stairs. "Hey..." she said, softly, but Dean ignores her and heads to the front door. "Dean..." she said, worried, but the sound of the door shutting told her that he went outside and she sighs.

Dean walks out onto the scrap yard, a bottle in his hand, and looks up at the sky. "Please...I can't...I need some help." he said, tears in his eyes and throat. "Please?" he cries as he looks up at the sky, tears rolling down his cheek.

Meanwhile, inside of Bobby's house, (y/n) was sitting at the kitchen table, her head in her hands and the sounds of Sam's screaming could still be heard, when she heard the sounds of wings next to her. She turns her head and see Ariel standing next to her. "Hey..." she said, softly, and she looks towards the door of the basement as Sam continues to scream.

"Where have you been?" (Y/n) asked her. "Still trying to find Dad." Ariel said. "And how's that going?" (Y/n) asked her. "Honestly? Not good. Seems like I can't find him but...I guess I still have hope." Ariel said and she goes to sit across from (y/n).

Sam's screams and yells continue and Ariel looks towards the door again then she turns to (y/n). "Cas told me what happened. And...." Ariel said and (y/n) let's out a sigh. "Ariel, I have a question." She said, firmly, and the archangel was taken aback a bit but nods.

"Okay..." she said. "Cas introduced us to a Cupid...and he said that they set up John and Mary by order from Heaven." (Y/n) said and Ariel nods. "Since you told me I'm your vessel...was my parents set up just so I could be born?" (Y/n) asked her.

Ariel stares at her then sighs as she looks down at the table. "When I heard about the plan of the joining of John and Mary, I knew I needed to act as soon as possible. One of the Cupids is a close friend of mine and we tried to find the best couple. We eventually picked your mother and father especially since your father came from a long line of hunters. It was perfect and I sent the Cupid to go after your mother and father." Ariel explains and (y/n) listens to her, intently.

"But...when the Cupid got to the location where your mother and father were, he saw that they were already talking and were, as you humans say, hitting it off." Ariel said and (y/n) stares at her in shock. "So the plan worked without our interference." Ariel said.

(Y/n) felt like an intense weight was just lifted off of her shoulders. She sighs, beginning to relax a bit but then her mind wandered back to her and Dean. 

Dean believe his feelings for her are real and she wishes she could have his confidence. But after learning things about the demons and Heaven, it seems everything in her and the boys’ life was plan out and orchestrated to get them where they are today. She can’t help but have some doubts, even in her own feelings. 

(Y/n) let’s out a shaky breath as she looks at Ariel, not wanting to ask this question. But she needs to know, even if the answer she’s afraid of turns out to be true. “Was…was Dean and I set up?” She asked, hesitantly. 

Ariel stares at her and (y/n) fidgets a little in her seat as she anxiously awaits for a response. The corners of Ariel’s lips turn upward for a reassuring smile. “You can rest assure, (y/n). The love between you and Dean is pure and as he would say, the real deal.” She said.

(Y/n’s) mouth drops open a little and her eyes light up in relief. “Really?” She asked. “It is best you don’t tell Sam this but...his past relationships with Jessica and Ruby, they were planned. But you and Dean, that wasn’t. Everyone was so focus on trying to pull Sam along to where they wanted him that you two simply slipped under the radar.” Ariel explained.

“So our relationship is one of the few things we have free will over?” (Y/n) asked and Ariel nodded. “Yes, I promise you that.” She replied and (y/n) let's out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Ariel." She said, relieved, and Ariel gives her an assured smile.

@rach5ive @kitsun369 @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @ellie-andthemachine

[loserboyfriendrjl]

valentine's day headcanons

wolfstar

they have dates in the astronomy tower where they smoke and talk about anything and everything

sirius writes remus poetry, remus writes sappy cards (he tries to make his handwriting readable)

they avoid madam puddifut's. neither of them like it, it's too flashy for their taste. they've gone once, though; she was a dear, but the shop was not their kind of thing

the only day (when they share their cigarettes with each other) without bickering

hold hands under the table; love all the decorations that the school puts up

dorlene

their absolute favorite holiday as a couple, so they try to make the most of it

dorcas makes marlene jewelry, and marlene somehow manages to find flowers to give dorcas

their date is the three broomsticks and then zonko's. neither of them would miss a good prank, even on valentine's day

go off and crash everyone's dates for fun (none of them actually mind it)

stop by at madam puddifut's but they don't stay; they just say hi to her and off they go

jily

the king and queen of being saps

james writes very cheesy and extra poetry (think eyes as green as a fresh-pickled toad) and lily gives him little handmade gifts throughout the day

they love madam puddifut's, and they would go there even after they graduated

have breakfast in bed (james cooks it; lily always wakes up later than him, and she's not the best of cooks)

lily bakes cookies, though, with little hearts on them, white chocolate and cherry filling; james adores them

jegulus

regulus pretends to hate valentine's, but he doesn't fool anyone. when he's with james, everything's brilliant

regulus writes poetry; james brings regulus flowers, always a different sort ("a change of decor in your gloomy room, ay?")

they have a picnic outside, even though it's bloody freezing; they do some heating charms and they can keep staying there

lots of affection

raid the kitchens for sweets

jegulily

madam puddifut's! regulus pretends to hate it, says it's too pink, but he actually likes it, especially if he's there with his friends

lily gives both of them handmade gifts, regulus writes james poetry and lily, love letters, and james writes sappy poetry for lily and gives regulus flowers

at the end of the day, each of them has a huge bouquet of flowers to match

lily and james wear silly little valentine's outfits; at some point, regulus joins them in doing so, too, and they all love it

it's kind of become their thing

marylily

mary gives lily jewelry, lily gives mary flowers and sweets

they stay in their dorm, at least in the morning, doing each other's make up and trying on clothes

they have matchy valentine's outfits and make up

their dates always get crashed by dorcas and marlene but at the end of the day they just mix up and the whole thing becomes a double date

both of them stumble in the gryffindor tower with lipstick stains on their faces

xenodora

they both give the other knickknacks and cool rocjs they found

they walk, together, around hogsmeade and the grounds, and they visit hagrid to meet all the new weird animals he's gotten

xenophilius suggests hunting for nargles and pandora, although she knows they don't exist, joins him in his quest (she never saw anything, but xenophilius swore he saw something in the bush next to the forbidden forest)

they also have a picnic with food they made themselves

they give each other little kisses all the time

nobleflower

narcissa pretends to hate valentine's too, but she can't help herself when alice is her valentine

alice gives her sappy cards throughout the day, and narcissa writes her love letters and gives her jewelry

they spend most of the day in their dorm, giving each other makeover and trying on each other's clothes

alice makes the fudgiest brownie ever and she makes both of them two of them and they get eaten immediately

they're even more affectionate with each other tha usually

emmary

give each other (handmade) jewelry

talk about their crushes

always have picnics. it's their thing, and it doesn't matter when marlene and dorcas crash their date, they welcome them to join them, and it turns into a double date

hold hands literally everywhere, at all times

help put up the valentine's day decorations, and make some of them themselves. those always look the best out of all of them

[puhpandas]

i feel the warmth in my chest (and the chill on my skin makes it that much clearer)

(1,964 words)

Evan and Gregory, while waiting those few agonizing hours before Halloween can truly begin, go outside into the chilly weather and play in the leaves.

🎃🍫👻

It's a crisp Autumn afternoon when Evan steps out onto Gregorys porch. The screen door slams behind him, and the air transitions from warm to chilly in only seconds. The breeze washes over his face like a wave, and Evan finds he dosnt mind the cold that much in this moment.

It makes his nose numb and his fingers freezing, but unlike how he usually feels about the cold, he welcomes it. He takes a deep breath, smelling the scent of fallen leaves and crisp air and the pumpkins Evan had carved with Gregory last week sitting by his feet next to the stairs. It fills his lungs, and alongside the aftertaste of Aunt Chicas cookies on his tongue, the chill is pleasant, unlike how its usually so unbearing and biting in his own home.

It doesnt take long for the temperature to wash over him fully. By the time hes stepping down the stairs, his thin,white overcoat flowing behind him, its left his shoulders shaking and his teeth chattering.

But so like he's not used to, the deep, bone chilling cold only adds onto his excitement. It's that type of chill you can only get during Halloween, with that specific vibe and feeling coming along with it. Evan has never liked that unmatched feeling. All it ever told him was that Halloween was on it's way, and along with it, Michael and his pushing and pulling and jabbing and messing with. With the addition of the neighborhood kids jumping in if they'd see him walking down the street on the one night of the year it would be acceptable to scare him with scary masks and bloody fingers and camouflaging cloaks, it made for a pretty dreadful day.

He takes another look at his costume, a ghost, with white flowy sheer fabric that makes him look like he floated right down from the clouds. Underneath is a white sweater and pants, and his makeup is done to make him appear ghastly and, well... dead. Eyes sunken in with deep shadows and complection pale.

Gregory is matching with him, kind of. Gregory's costume is of a murder victim. Hes wearing sort of varsity jacket with a plastic knife stabbed in his gut, and his face is painted with bloody makeup and a faux black eye. Gregory hadn't explained the specific costume he called a 'Zombie Murder Victim High School Football Star', just gotten excited over the fact that they matched with their undead themes.

Its Evans first year matching with someone. His first year having someone to go trick or treating with. Theres something about this year. It doesn't leave him guessing. It doesn't leave him on edge, wondering who will strike first, all while being so uncertain but sure at the same time that something will go wrong. This year, he has Gregory and his family. This year, he has people who actually care about how he feels, and understand how to have fun.

This year, he knows Michael will be across town with his friends, and that his father will lock himself in his workshop. He knows that the neighborhood kids wont dare mess with him now, because of how many times Gregory has shown them a thing or two over the better part of this year.

This year, Evan isnt dreading the coming hours. He isnt hiding in his room, celebration or joy for the Holiday nowhere to be found, because he has to watch his back and sides. This year, he isnt considering running away for the night, even though he had always known he would never be brave enough to do it.

Instead, he's going trick or treating with his best friend, and he only feels excitment and anticipation, compared to the stark contrast of last year where all he felt was on edge and trapped in his own house.

The sun is only just setting by the time he steps onto that little pathway leading to the backyard from the front porch. Waiting for it to get dark has been agonizing. It had only gotten too much when he and Gregory were sat in front of a movie they'd seen a thousand times, makeup and costumes done, and unable to sit without wiggling or fidgeting, and Gregory had jumped up and gone "That's it! I can't just sit here anymore!"

That's why Evan's followed him outside. For the better part of the day Gregory has been more restless than a bored puppy.

Evan thinks the description fits when he finally catches up to Gregory and finds him digging through the shed in his backyard. Evan doesn't really know why he came out here. Theres much less to do outside than there is inside, but his intentions become clear when he moves to stand by Gregory's shoulder, and he goes Aha! while retrieving something.

Evan stares blankly when Gregory pulls out a rake, turning to face him and grinning at him. "Want to build a leaf pile and do cannonballs in it?"

He doesn't even have to ask.

It's not long before they're trekking through backyard, browning leaves crunching under their sneakers as they head to that big tree in the middle of the yard. When they get there, they waste no time grabbing the big rake and making the inklings of a pile on the flattest bit of ground.

The rake is heavy, and Evan can barely control it, if how it swings around and almost hits Gregory in the face is any indication. The handle is ice cold on his fingers, but it only makes Evan that much more aware of the excitment thrumming through his veins.

With Evan using the rake, Gregory takes to getting on his knees and shepherding the leaves to the pile with his hands. Gregory laughs over the dirt under his fingernails and how the still-damp leaves from the light shower earlier are chilly on his hands, and it makes Evan abandon the rake and get on the ground with him.

It takes longer than it should to finish the pile. They keep getting caught up in throwing the leaves at eachother like snowballs and using their hands to push waves at eachother like they're in a pool. The leaves end up more scattered than the were originally, and Evan has to get the rake again.

By the time they finish and theres a huge pile of damp leaves sitting in front of them, the sky is a dark, deep blue with the horizon a yellow. The sun is only barely peeking through the trees, and it's enough for the automatic porch lights to come on.

With the lack of sunlight, it's gotten that much colder. Evan's shivering enough that it makes his laughs warble, but he doesnt care. He doesnt care about the cold.

They only take a short break before they jump in. Evan lays flat on the ground, damp excess leaves and ice cold dirt underneath him. His throat is dry from the chill and how much he talked, and laughed, and his cheeks are sore from smiling too much. His nose is numb, and the thin, cheap Spirit Halloween costume does nothing for keeping him warm, but he doesn't need it.

Through the cold, it makes the warmth blooming in his stomach that much clearer. It makes the laughter bubbling in his chest and the excitement that the fun isnt even over, yet, he still gets to go trick or treating with Gregory after this, that much more apparent.

He has the warmth that spawned inside of him from spending time with his best friend and having fun with him to keep him toasty. So unlike his own home, where the chill is all there is. No warmth or comfort to adhere for that fact.

It's only now that Evan thinks that maybe, he doesn't really dislike the cold. Just how the cold is what comes with his unfeeling house and unpleasant family members and uncomfortable atmosphere.

Because here, right now, as he lays on the freezing ground, sky darkening above them and the last bit of leaves on the big tree in Gregory's backyard fluttering in the chilly breeze, he realizes he likes what comes with the cold, and not what the cold comes from.

With the cold comes the awareness of the warmth unfurling in his stomach. With the cold comes drinking the delicious, steaming hot chocolate Aunt Chica made. With the cold comes bundling up with his favorite sweaters, cuddling up under a fuzzy blanket, and watching a movie with Gregory.

With the cold comes those agonizing few hours before Halloween truly begins, and making a leaf pile with your best friend.

Evan knows his all-white costume is dirtier by the time he finally gets up, the knees of his white jeans brown and dirtied, but he doesnt have time to dwell on it when all he hears is a breathy laugh before hes shoved face first into the leaf pile.

Even through the leaves submerging his head, he can hear Gregory cackling. He sputters when leaves get in his mouth, and while regaining his footing after rolling around a few times, he wastes no time shooting up and grabbing Gregory by the shoulders.

Gregory yelps when hes yanked down with Evan, and all Evan is aware of when his eyes shut in glee from how hard hes laughing is the soft, scratchy, earthy leaves beneath him, the breeze in the air that just screams Halloween, and Gregory's body fallen on top of him.

Gregory grabs some leaves and smushes them into his hair. All Evan can do is screech at the wet chill before grabbing his own fistful and doing the same. Leaves fall over them like a wave when they roll around, wrestling in the yard.

They only stop when they get too tired to keep going. His costume is definitely dirty by now, damp like the leaves and dirt. The scent of wet earth and the cold and Halloween washes over him, and all he can find in himself to do is grin, and giggle breathlessly and chatter with Gregory as he lies on the ground, shoulder to shoulder with him.

Its almost pitch black by the time Freddy opens the door leading to the backyard, stepping outside, Frankenstiens monster costume and all. "Kids? Are you two ready to go? Its almost time for trick or treating!"

Evan only shares a fleeting look with Gregory before they both shoot up, previous exhaustion from their little fight completely gone. Evan runs side by side with Gregory to the door, his costume with the mud stained hem flowing behind him, and all Evan can feel in this moment is warmth, despite how his nose is numb and his shoulders are shaking and theres this chilly, floaty feeling in his chest.

He knows that there are definitely leaves in his hair when he steps inside after Gregory, and when the heat of the home blasts him in his face, making his freezing face tingle, the warmth prickling and sharp, Evan finds that with the cold can come the warmth, and maybe it isnt so weird that Evan feels nothing of the sort when it comes to his own house, and his own family.

It was never about the cold.

Just like how the warmth with Gregory and his family has never been about the temperature.

He only has time to grab his candy bucket (shaped like a mummified teddy bear) before he and Gregory are shooting through the front door, racing to Freddys car. He smiles even wider when the cold air rushes across his face again, and he can hear Gregory's footsteps next to him and Freddy and the others' voices behind them.

ao3 link

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day One - Spring @sapphicmicrofics

April Daily Series - 717 words

**Series 5/5 of a continuous multi-ship story**

<<<Previous Series OR Beginning

The train station was busier than she expected for this time of day. It was too bloody early for normal people to be awake and yet here they were flooding Cardiff’s Central station. Ridiculous.

Marlene dug through her backpack until she felt the tangled cord of her earbuds. “Ah-ha! There she is.”

“Is everything feminine to you?” Regulus asked. His head was tilted slightly toward James to accommodate headphones they shared. The cord was still wrapped around Regulus’s neck while James listened intently to the song that Regulus played for him.

“Only things I value,” she replied, grinning wickedly at him.

Regulus rolled his eyes, as seemed to be his habit. The bloke was certainly a different breed from his brother. Their similarities were entirely skin deep, but it startled her to see the same features that she associated with general merriment contort into a glare or bored apathy so often.

Except for the similarly adoring expressions the brothers turned on James. It was impressive how thoroughly he’d charmed both of them. Not that Marlene was surprised. She’d watched James charm nearly everyone he’d ever met rather quickly.

They were complements in many ways. Where James was bold and confident, Marlene was bold and brash. Where James was eager and determined, Marlene was eager and hungry. They were different branches springing from the same tree and worked well together. Which was why they were old childhood friends and current hockey teammates.

Sirius prodded her hip. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to Edinburgh with me? Those two will be all over each other the entire time. Last chance.”

“As if you and Remus will be any better?” Regulus snarked. “You’re like dogs in heat.”

Sirius flipped him off. Before he could retaliate, James stuck the headphones back onto Regulus’s ears and distracted him with a quick kiss. It was becoming a common interaction between the brothers. Sirius loved winding Regulus up and Regulus enjoyed lashing out.

Marlene shrugged. “I’m due a holiday anyway and Pandora insisted that she and Lily needed help rearranging things at the London flat. Who am I to tell a pair of pretty women ‘no?’”

“Fair,” James agreed. He then swatted Regulus’s boot away from Sirius’s shin with a sigh. When his feral boyfriend grumbled a threat, James picked him up and promptly settled him into his lap. “Both of you, behave.”

Sirius smirked at Regulus, but his brother was entirely unbothered now that he was comfortably snuggled into James’s chest. It was probably best that Sirius wasn’t joining them on the train to London. Marlene was just about sick of the bickering.

“Can you not?” she said, budging Sirius’s shoulder.

“We have lost time to make up for, Marls.”

“Which you want to spend quarreling?”

He flashed a bright grin at her, then draped an arm over her shoulders. “It’s what siblings do. You know how it is.”

She definitely did. Her three brothers were constantly scrapping with each other or poking fun at her when she lived at home. It was just as irritating.

“James is being entirely too nice about it. I’d have knocked you about by now.”

Sirius laughed, loud and sharp. “Nonsense. Our rows give him an excuse to ‘rescue’ Reggie. He loves it.”

Marlene glanced back at James to find him smiling fondly at Regulus while he stroked his back to soothe him. He always was the righteous peacemaker type. It sort of tracked that he’d take advantage of the chaos to play hero.

“Utter twats.”

“You should be used to it by now,” Sirius said, leaning his head against hers. “Honestly, Marls. I think you’re jealous.”

She stared at him incredulously. “Of who?”

“Regulus.”

“What? Why?”

Sirius nodded at his brother again. “Didn’t you have that in London? The calm to your chaos?”

Marlene immediately dropped her gaze to her backpack and toyed with a loose thread. She couldn’t think about that right now. Walking away was the worst decision that she didn’t make.

Dorcas was right, of course. Long-distance was shite and they were never “just friends.” It was entirely logical to end things cleanly when they did, and also complete bullshite.

“Are you going to look her up?” he persisted.

“London is a big city and I doubt she’d want me to.”

Next Part>>>

[scummy-writes]

I used to have a writing server, and some of you may remember it. It was called Plot Bunnies Anonymous (i still think the name is really cute). Sometimes, I miss having a server like that and trying to help others with any sort of writing issues they have, or reviewing, or finding fun prompts and writing tips or challenges... what happened was that I gave it to a friend, because I had a very bad depression episode a few years ago and was convinced my writing was pretty pointless and not something to pursue (look at me now BAHAHA).

Sometimes I have the urge to get back to it again, make a new one so bad memories aren't there or something, but then I think about all that I've got on my plate:

-> this writing blog, with two comms and wips I want to work on

-> Bloody Simps, which... we also have channels about writing helps and reviewing and stuff

-> Scummy Streams, where I usually try and stream writing once a week and, in theory, try to do a request if there is any and it sparks inspo (lately ive just been working on wips and chatting)

-> @ikemen-daily-questions (i'm making up more qs on a regular basis since a chunk I have leftover rn are actually holiday based)

-> @c-bookwyrm , which is constance's blog. The purpose was just to have a catch-all blog for writing random drabbles about her without stressing over 'who wants to see this?' and its been nice, but ive been so busy I can't think of anything with her atm

-> @askgilbertvonobsidian *gestures hands*

-> numerous projects for writing or digital fun like stationery or similar, and fanfics I need to read

-> IRL hellzone

Do I REALLY need to mod another server? No. The answer is no.

[bokettochild]

So, I have been thinking about your post about Legend and Wild looking almost like twins, Legend being Life, and Wild being Death and I can’t help but think about which of the heroes would be associated with different season. I wanted to share my thoughts: what if Wild was associated with Spring while Legend is associated with Summer? Legend is a god of growth, which takes place mostly over summer for crops and such. Wild, I tend to associate not just with Death but also Rebirth, which would fit a Spring association. Wild cares for the souls of the lost til it is time for them to become something new. Legend as summer and life, leads them on their path.

I also tend to associate Time with Fall (the old tradition of time gods being associated with harvesting) and Twilight is the one most fit for Winter cause I honestly couldn’t remember who else would be associated with that season.

Fun fact! This HC was running around in my head with almost the SAME BLOODY THOUGHTS!

I saw it a sort of different way though, because yeah, Legend would be Summer, all color and life and growth and warmth, but Wild? Wild is Fall. Fall is beautiful and nostalgic, it holds a sense of sadness as the year draws to an end, but that doesn't mean it's not happy and warm and cider and cocoa and crackling fires and crunchy leaves as well. Fall is a time of Death (the leaves die, hunting begins, gardens wither, grass turns brown) but its a beautiful sort of death that is still full of life in a strange way. And that is Wild, that is Wild so much because yeah, he's dead, he died, what came back isn't the same and he's still sort of dead (if only the man he used to be) but he's warm and happy and sweet and wonderful all the same, even though he's dead. Like crunchy leaves that whisper under your feet even though they died weeks ago.

But who is spring? Which Link is rebirth personified? Hyrule! Hyrule is like that first blossom of spring, that first patch of green grass coming up from the slush and the snow. Hyrule is a bright ray of light light in a dark world that promises that morning is coming, that the winter is defeated and it's now time to rebuild and recover and grow again. He's the one from a world still in darkness, still in destruction, a world worse off than any of the others', but it's growing again now it's recovering again now. It's still leafless trees and brown grass and barren land, but there are flowers here now, see? There is a patch of warmth here and the land is recovering, it's coming back, it's not blossoming yet but it's getting there! Hyrule is the Spring as it creeps in with slush and mud and wet and rain and only hints of the beautiful color we all long for. He's messy and raw and real and natural and beautiful not in the way we're looking for, but what is most needed.

I don't know that there are any heroes that fit the feel of winter, of death of the land but joy within, the sparks of warmth even despite the freezing cold, the brightness of a holiday amidst the death of nature, but that's okay. The Life Cycle in Mythology comes in three stages, not four. Life, Death, and Rebirth are all key. I have no clue what other stage in life there could be, but yeah.

They be Spring, Summer, and Fall, and I love that for them :)

[trungles]

Regarding your winter romcoms: just wanted to say you have truly IMPECCABLE taste in films (which is to say that we have the *same* movie taste), and it makes me love you/your art all the more. Any other suggestions? Ultimte favorite films? Do share!

HELLO, it has been a hot dang minute since I did one of these, and I'm pretty sure this question was dropped into my inbox closer to Christmas of 2022. So. Thank you very much for your kind words, anonymous, and apologies for the very long delay!

This is a fun question, though, so I really wanted to answer it eventually. Forgive the typos, grab your popcorn and your Red Vines (the best licorice-ish candy, I WILL FIGHT YOU no I won't but I love them), and let's go through my favorite comfort-watch movies. They're mostly rom-coms and coming-of-age movies for teens.

As a general caveat, I am not a big movie person at all. I know basically nothing about film. You will find no sensitive critique or analysis here. My favorite movies are all VIBES. I'm also not a big horror/thriller/bloody violence sort of person, so I don't watch many of those, which is weird because a goodly number of my dearest friends are horror film buffs. Also, I have made it a habit, in my adulthood, to go watch movies that I wasn't allowed to watch or didn't have access to as a kid. I'm a first-and-a-half generation immigrant to the United States, so my way of getting comfortable with American culture was to sort of approximate its vibes by absorbing its popular culture almost anthropologically? So in this post I'll maybe go over why I like it, and I might mention some of the things that have not aged super well because, as I'm sure you know, every single thing ever made cannot help being a product of the time it was made. I believe in being able to watch these things critically, enjoying them as they are, understanding that everybody's mileage may vary, and that not everything I like will be for everyone. I'm mostly including this bit because it's internet and people don't always know how to simply disengage with things they don't like.

In my Winter Movie post, I recommended The Holiday, When Harry Met Sally, Single All the Way, Moonstruck, and While You Were Sleeping, so I won't go over those again. Let's kick this off with something to help manage everybody's expectations.

The McG-directed Charlie's Angels movies, 2000 and 2003. Both of them.

I actually saw the second one first. It was one of the first PG-13 movies I ever saw in theatres, and it sort of just imprinted in my psyche, I think? They're just fun. They're real fuckin' fun. Cameron Diaz, Lucy Liu, and Drew Barrymore have great onscreen chemistry, and the cheesy wire-fu sequences are so ham-fisted that they delight me. These movies know exactly what they are, and they're very up-front about being Movies, particularly the second one where every scene seems to have an Old Hollywood pastiche. The first one has a bit of very odd brownface moments that I did not love upon rewatch.

Singin' in the Rain, 1952

I saw this movie for the first time when I was in middle school, and I was absolutely obsessed. It was the very first time I realized that the movies had its own histories, and that there was a transition of culture when there was a change in technology. Also, I just loved watching Gene Kelly dance, for gay reasons. Plus, Rita Moreno is in it for a split second, and she's divine.

Clueless, 1995

This movie rules, I don't know what else to say. It's a fantastic Austen adaptation, and while I was too young to catch this in the 90s, it felt great catching up with this one as an adult. I think it also helped me contextualize what other kids were into in the 90s, so I retroactively feel less isolated from my peers. It's a weird sort of magic. It's also strange to me, in hindsight, that in 1995 there was an enormous hit teen movie where there is a gay character who is treated incredibly lovingly for the time? Like, no gay trauma, no homophobic bullying, no nothing. He's just there, and he gets folded into the rest of the story and remains important to the main character's life? I'd have loved that as a kid.

Shanghai Noon, 2000

The year 2000 was an incredible time for goofy action comedies, and this one was formative for me. It's extremely silly and embarrassing to admit, but this movie was the first time I learned about how Chinese railroad workers built the transcontinental railroads in the later 1800s. I first saw it as a rental from the local video store, and my parents let me watch it because my dad liked Jackie Chan movies. It's... very 2000 in its treatment of racial politics, but you could reasonably argue that not too much has changed since.

The Princess Bride, 1987

I don't need to explain this to anyone.

Four Weddings and a Funeral, 1994

God, you can see the accent on Hugh Grant's mouth. I don't know why I love this movie as much as I do. I came to it a bit later in my teen years, and I'd watch it again every few years. It's grown on me more and more as the years go on. It's the only British-American ensemble production that I really latched onto, and it's in no small part because the supporting cast is so much fun to watch.

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, 1953

This is one of my favorite movies of all time. I watch it probably three or four times a year. Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell star as two showgirls who embark on a cruise to France to work around the machinations of an old millionaire who refuses to let his son marry Monroe's character. It's got that iconic Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend number, and it has one of the best third-act thesis statement speeches I've ever heard in any era. It's a great old musical.

Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day, 2008

This is a gem that I missed back in 2008 because I was graduating high school at the time and had other things going on (being queer at a Catholic high school in the 2000s sucked ass, btw, let this ol' geezer tell ya). Frances McDormand plays a conservative governess who can't hold down a job because she, being a preacher's daughter, is a morally upright Amelia Bedelia. Out of desperation, she scams her way into becoming the social secretary for a bubbly young actress played by Amy Adams, and they spend a wild and heartwarming day together where Frances McDormand's character navigates wartime, friendship, and romance. This is also the movie that made me develop an embarrassing crush on Lee Pace (not because Lee Pace is embarrassing, I just hate having crushes on famous actors because I know, at the end of the day, that they're just weird theatre kids who have money now). It's based on a novel written in 1938, and it's aged surprisingly well.

Sailor Moon SuperS, 1995

I borrowed the VHS for this movie from the library as often as I could in the second or third grade. It was the one movie I had memorized in my brain to the extent that I could just recite the dub to myself whenever I wanted. Plus, Chibi Moon was my favorite (do not @ me, I will fight you).

Waiting to Exhale, 1995

I don't know how I caught this one as a kid or which channel aired it, but Waiting to Exhale–starring Whitney Houston, Angela Bassett, Loretta Devine, and Lela Rochon–was something I saw pieces of when I was way too young to understand any of it, and it was a joy to revisit it as an adult. I've since seen it a few times. This endlessly gif'd scene pictured above is every bit as cathartic as it looks, and the soundtrack is incredible.

The Mummy, 1999

Yeah yeah, this is an incredibly unsurprising and safe pick, but the movie is so much damn fun, and Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz have the most belligerently bisexual energy ever shared between a heterosexual pairing. I don't know how else to explain it.

Sister Act 2, 1993

I saw this one on TV a lot, and I watched it from top to bottom every single time. I don't think I've ever actually seen the first one.

Adventures in Babysitting, 1987

I found this movie incredibly delightful, and I'm pretty sure I watched it in adulthood because I was looking for this movie I'd only seen in bits and pieces on TV as a kid or something. It stars Elizabeth Shue and a very young Anthony Rapp. Plot-wise, it's very much like Lord of the Rings if Gandalf were a plucky teen girl and the hobbits were a bunch of literal children. I'm not kidding. It's also an 80s movie about a bunch of white suburbanites who have adventures in Chicago, so there are a couple cringey moments, but by the standards of its time, nothing wildly egregious. Bonus points for a surprise appearance by strapping young Vincent D'Onofrio.

Pretty in Pink, 1986, and Some Kind of Wonderful, 1987, double-feature.

I put these two together because they're the same movie, but gender-swapped. They're both written by John Hughes and directed by Howard Deutch, so they have the same very ineffectual Reagan-era flattening of class consciousness. They're about a poor girl/boy protagonist who falls in love with a rich boy/girl. The protagonist develops a richer relationship with their beleaguered father character and develop a better understanding of themselves, kind of. John Hughes teen comedy-dramas are significant, I think, because they're some of the first blockbuster teen movies that took teens and their feelings seriously, wrote from their perspectives, and courted teens as an audience (for all kinds of historical and economic reasons between the 70s and the 80s, I'm sure, but I'm no expert). They're also more watchable than some of the other John Hughes teen movies; Sixteen Candles is basically unwatchable to me.

Porco Rosso, 1992

I told myself I could only pick one Ghibli movie for this list, and this is it. Porco Rosso might be my favorite Ghibli movie, which might seem like an odd choice for me. Like a lot of millennials who were teens when Spirited Away came out, I got really into the Ghibli catalogue in the late 2000s but had seen some Ghibli movies much earlier in my life. My first was technically Grave of the Fireflies. I was eight, and came away with the notion that if I left my little brother alone, who was five at the time, the adults around us would just let him die, so I had to watch him as carefully as I could. I became an incredibly anxious and overbearing older brother very early. Next, I'd see the Buena Vista release of Kiki's Delivery service, so I have a soft spot for all the Sydney Forest pop songs they inserted in the 90s dub of that movie. By the time I watched Porco Rosso, I'd seen most of the rest of the Ghibli catalogue, but it really stood out to me. Most of Miyazaki's protagonists are girls, but this one is a kids' feature about a middle-aged man with a pig's head. In hindsight, I think I loved it because it is one of those rare children's narratives that conflates femininity with practicality and masculinity with frivolous ostentatiousness. It's worth a watch!

Say Anything... , 1989

This is one of those teen movies where they take small, mundane problems and make them enormous, which I sort of love as a storytelling tool. John Cusack plays Lloyd, a high school underachiever who falls in love with the valedictorian, and you watch him experience true internal motivation for the first time in his young life. It's very cute! I think the thing this sort of teen movie gets really right about being a teenager is you don't really have a sense of scale for your problems at that age because all your problems are just problems you're encountering for largely the first time. Ione Skye's valedictorian character experiences a pretty devastating family issue with her father, but it's flattened into the same strata as her anxiety about flying, her first breakup, and her feelings of isolation and remove from her peers. Plus Lili Taylor is in this as Lloyd's best friend character, and she's great, just like in the next movie on this list...

Mystic Pizza, 1988

I couldn't decide which gif I wanted to use for this movie, so I just picked two. It's another slice-of-life teen comedy-drama, and it's real cozy. The performances from all the young actors are fantastic. Lili Taylor, Annabeth Gish, and Julia Roberts are great in this, plus you get to see strapping young Vincent D'Onofrio again, which is a treat. He gets to do a lot more in this one. At this point it's worth noting that 80s teen movies are obsessed with romances among young people across different social strata, and true to the Reagan era, the movies like to impress upon its audiences that hating rich people is the same as hating poor people (cue heavy eyeroll). This honestly explains a lot of things to me about today's political discourses, I think.

To All the Boys I've Loved Before, 2018

I enjoyed this Netflix movie so much that I watched it 16 or 17 times in the month after its release. It's fine, I'm fine. I don't know exactly what it was. I love rom coms. I've seen a ton of high school romance movies, and this one hit me really hard for some reason.

And that's everything I could come up with off the very top of my head. I think I hit something like 20 movies up there? Whew! That's my evening, but it was the only thing I could focus on for more than an hour at a time today.

[illarian-rambling]

How about merger of my two back to you for WBW?

Have you made any sports that are descended from, or currently act as, some sort of religious offering or ritual?

It's not exactly a sport, but dueling in Nabafyr fills this role well. To preface, Nabafyrians are one of two elven races on Illaros, and they love to fight. Great warriors of the past are worshipped as holy spirits by their descendants. One way to honor these spirits in times of peace is by dueling, often using martial techniques passed down the family line by the holy ancestor themself.

Dueling is actually banned on all except one day of the week to keep it from getting out of hand. There are sport matches for fun, blood matches over minor slights, and death matches over serious feuds. A lot of Nabafyrians treat dueling day as a sort of weekly holiday, and most businesses close to give their employees time off for it. The other race of elves, Skysheerians, find this bloody and abhorrent.

One tradition around dueling is the dueling belt. A dueling belt is two strips of braided leather, often with tufts of hair worked into the design. It's traditional for the winner of a bout to give the loser a lock of their hair. That way, the loser can train to become stronger, and once they feel ready for a rematch, they can burn the hair to receive guidance from their warrior ancestors on where to find the one who bested them. Extremely skilled duelists are called barebelts, owing to the fact that they've never lost a fight and received a lock of hair.

In more recent times, another dueling tradition has cropped up---an artisans' duel. Two artists compete to create the best work as judged by whatever audience is nearby. In this case, beads are given to the loser. This dueling tradition is a way of honoring not only the warrior ancestors, but the craftsmen as well.

Thanks for the ask! I love talking about my silly, violence-loving elves :)

[setaripendragon]

Vibe Check - Part 1

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 So, I tripped and fell into an old fandom, got so consumed with headcanons that I had to write it down, and then the fic ran away with me and I don't know what's happening anymore. Jack and Ianto go on holiday to the fifty-first century, and conversations ensue.

The fifty-first century is… nothing Ianto expected, and yet exactly like Ianto expected. He’d kind of expected nudist colonies full of free-love hippies, which… well, there are probably some, but on the whole, humans are still human. There’s a whole lot more body-modification going on, but it’s the same general sort. Hair dyed fun colours, art scrawled across people’s skin. Gender as Ianto understands it means nothing, with people sporting secondary sexual characteristics in just about every combination Ianto could have imagined, and a few more that he really, really could not have.

He travelled here through the TARDIS, so he has to actually go look it up to understand that what the TARDIS translates as ‘they’ is actually one of over a dozen different pronouns with nebulous definitions that Ianto barely understands. One seems to be related to the difference between mechanical implants versus biological, another seems to be related to an alien reproductive gender, a third has something to do with some university or something.

It’s confusing.

It’s also entirely enlightening.

“This is why you don’t like labels,” Ianto realises, as a person who – he can hear because he’s listening for it – is being referred to as ‘a person with non-human characteristics’ even though they look perfectly human to him, kisses a complete stranger full on the mouth for helping them pick up the groceries they just dropped. Because people are still buying groceries in markets and carrying them home in substandard bags, it’s just that these bags aren’t plastic, they’re some sort of metallic fabric that apparently glitches sometimes. “Because twenty-first century English doesn’t even have the right labels for the paradigms you grew up with.”

There’s been a lot of that sort of casual intimacy between people, too, which Ianto had expected, because Jack is Jack, but… not as much as he would have expected. At least, no one’s tried to kiss, grope, hug, or even so much as touch him, even though Ianto’s seen other people get kissed, groped, or hugged when they do the exact same things he’s done.

“Partly, yeah.” Jack agrees, taking the drinks he’s bought them with a charming grin and a wink that doesn’t get anything more from the person serving them than a laugh and a hair-ruffle. Ianto has never seen anyone – even people who look old enough for it to make sense – treat Jack like a little boy before. He’s always exuded enough sexual charisma to make it impossible. He’s not behaving any differently, either, and yet…

“What’s the other part?” Ianto asks frowning, because he knows there’s something he’s missing.

Jack gives him a wry smile. “We don’t use labels for relationships the same way,” he explains, or tries to. Ianto doesn’t understand, though. Surely they must have words for the dynamics between people, even if Ianto doesn’t know them.

“Then how do you talk about it?”

“For the most part, we don’t,” Jack says, sounding a little tired, but also amused.

“That seems like a recipe for disaster,” Ianto says, but not like a judgement, because he can see that it isn’t turning into a disaster. He can see the easy way the natives here are navigating these social waters, even though he knows he’s floundering like someone who never even learnt to swim. “What am I missing, Jack?”

Jack smiles at him, warm and fond. “We’re all low-level psychic, Ianto,” he says, like he’s reminding Ianto. Except, Ianto would know if Jack had told him he could bloody well read minds at any point.

“You can all read minds?” he asks flatly.

Jack frowns. “No. That’s like saying I know how your intestines work because I know what outfit you put on this morning.” Ianto blinks, but he thinks he’s starting to see the shape of what Jack’s getting at.

“So, it’s not so much reading minds as it is… a vibe check,” Ianto says slowly.

Jack snorts his way into laughter. “Yeah, lets go with that.”

“And… to carry on the clothing analogy, if someone’s wearing orange, you know they’re okay with PDA with strangers, but if they’re wearing green…”

Jack’s laughing so hard he’s wheezing, but he nods. “And- Oh, god- And if it’s an orange hat, then- pfft- then PDA is okay but it’s a friendly thing, but if it’s a scarf? Heh, then they’re down to fuck. And if it’s shoes they’re looking for commitment. Polka dots mean they’re a package deal, stripes mean other people are invested, solid colours are aggressively unattached…” Jack waves a hand, laughter trailing off into a disbelieving snicker. “As much as the analogy ran away with me, it’s just… there’s as many ‘vibes’ as there are human experiences, it’s limitless.”

Ianto can’t help but smile at Jack’s amusement, but he also has a very important question. “So… what’s changed about your vibes that no one’s given you bedroom eyes once since we got to the fifty-first century?”

Jack’s grin softens into a smile that makes Ianto’s heart roll over in his chest like a puppy begging for belly-rubs. “Nothing,” he says. Ianto frowns at him. “I’m serious. I’m… probably projecting a little less ‘oh god, please fuck me now’, but only a little.” He holds up his thumb and forefinger pressed together to show exactly how little.

“Why?” Ianto asks, derailed for a moment.

“Because I don’t need to fuck people to feel them anymore,” Jack answers, and gives Ianto a prompting look.

Ianto turns that over in his mind, puzzling out its meaning. “You’ve… been using sex as a crutch, because people in the twenty-first century aren’t psychic, so we’re not… projecting our vibes right?”

Jack gives him a very wry look. “If I spend my time walking around in the equivalent of booty-shorts with a heart cut out of the back-” Ianto snorts some of his drink out of his nose with the suddenness of his laughter, and splutters for a moment. “Then pretty much everyone in the twenty-first century is wearing a full set of plate mail,” Jack says once Ianto’s done coughing. “You’re all so… closed off, closed in to your own private bubbles. You don’t… you don’t reach out to touch each other, it’s like you can’t even see each other.”

There’s a raw note in Jack’s voice, and Ianto aches, suddenly, with the realisation that Jack must have been so very lonely. Just like people are starting to understand the concept of touch-starvation in the twenty-first century, there’s probably a similar psychic version here in the fifty-first. People need people to stay sane, after all.

Ianto reaches out and curls his fingers around Jack’s, because he doesn’t know how to reach out with his psychic vibes, so this is the best he can do. Jack gives him that smile again, and turns his hand under Ianto’s, gripping back. Then, because he’s Jack, he lifts Ianto’s hand to his mouth and kisses his knuckles. Ianto flushes pink.

A person at another table in this little out-door cafe shoots a disapproving scowl at them.

Which is a little odd. If this were the twenty-first century, Ianto would assume it’s because they’re both men, but that’s not even a thing that the fifty-first century would even conceptualise the same way.

Then Ianto’s mind clicks a few more things into place, and he straightens in his seat, staring at Jack. “The thing that’s changed about your vibes is me,” he realises.

Jack laughs at him, kisses his knuckles again, and then lets their hands drop back to the table, though he doesn’t let go. “Suit of armour,” he confirms, running his thumb over Ianto’s knuckles. “It’s not quite the same as actively projecting ‘don’t fucking touch me’, but… it’s pretty damn close.”

“How do I change that?” Ianto asks immediately. At Jack’s raised eyebrows, he scowls. “I don’t want people thinking you’re molesting me,” he retorts, raising their joined hands pointedly in front of Jack’s amused smirk, “just because I don’t vibe right.” Then he pauses, and frowns. “Wait, why are people not touching you when I’m the one with the non-vibes?”

Jack watches him for a long moment, amusedly expectant. Then he huffs and rolls his eyes. “Fucking labels,” he grumbles.

“Oh,” Ianto says, because he thinks he gets it. “Polka dots.”

Jack blinks, then huffs a laugh. “Yeah, sort of,” he agrees. “It’s more complicated than that.”

Ianto nods. “Otherwise you’d have words for it.”

“Exactly.”

There’s not a lot Ianto can say to that, not past his heart, which suddenly feels about three sizes too big for his chest. This time, it’s his turn to lift their hands to his mouth, but he shifts his grip so that he can press his kiss to Jack’s palm. “Try and explain it to me?” he requests, because he wants to understand, and he knows it’s not as simple as just being a package deal, and Ianto’s non-vibes speaking for both of them.

Jack swallows, his heart in his eyes when he meets Ianto’s gaze. “It’s… everything I do, sexually, romantically, committedly-” Jack waves a hand in the air, some frustration bleeding through. Ianto nods, so show he understands. “Everything is done with reference to you. If you’re not cool with it, it doesn’t happen. Doesn’t mean you have to be involved, if you don’t want, but…”

“But people can’t tell what I’d be cool with, so they’re doing the polite thing, and assuming nothing,” Ianto concludes, nodding. Jack nods along. “Yeah. Same question,” he decides. “How do I change that?”

Jack laughs softly. “You know, I have no idea. Let’s go ask a professional.”

[mybeingthere]

Helen Oxenbury, British illustrator, b 1938.

"The house opposite Hampstead Heath where Helen Oxenbury has lived with her husband, fellow children’s writer and illustrator John Burningham, in north London for more than 40 years, is a home you might find in an old-fashioned children’s book: turreted, with steps up to a porch, a sun-lit kitchen – all paintings, pots and pans and piles of books. It is easy to imagine it as a family haven for their three children; the youngest, Emily, an artist, now lives next door with her baby and toddler. And Oxenbury, a sprightly, upright 80, with angular features and hair in the messy bun she has worn all her life, is the sort of no-nonsense grandmother you might find in such a book.

She met Burningham (her illustrator husband) at London’s Central School of Art and Design, where she went to study theatre design in 1957, having worked in the props department of Ipswich Repertory theatre during the summer holidays. They married and their first daughter, Lucy, was born in 1965. It was only then, inspired by Burningham’s success (his first book, Borka, won the Kate Greenaway medal in 1963) and unable to continue working on sets, that Oxenbury thought: “Well, perhaps I’ll have a go at that.” At first she just wanted to make enough money to afford some help around the house. “Then I loved it so much I wouldn’t have stopped anyway.” Motherhood “spurs you on”, she says. “You think: ‘I’m bloody well not going to sit back and do nothing,’ and she would start work each evening once the children were in bed. “I do feel for mums,” she says, and they are always sympathetically portrayed in her books (Spare Rib approved of the resourceful, fun-loving single mum in Meal One)." Continue reading

https://www.theguardian.com/.../helen-oxenbury-life...

[talentforlying]

☎️ 👀

day 2.

' ey, luv. just wanted to 'ear your voice. '

low, raspy, tired. just the sort of thing you'd expect from a late-night caller, spouting cheap lines from soppy B-movies with titles along the lines of no place like home for the holidays. a little more easy-breezy casual than you'd expect from someone cuddled up to an ansaphone.

' best be keepin' safe, an' all. tell me not t'cause trouble, you're the bleedin' poster child for it. how m'i supposed to keep from gettin' bored without you around, eh? '

the rustle of sheets as he stretches, sighs. brief, content silence, like an audible glow at the end of the line.

' don't make fun of me f'i say i miss you already. i do. i 'ope whatever it is you're doin' works and it en't hard, an' you end up back 'ere before i open my eyes in the morning. f'not, you just drop us a line, yeah, an' i'll come by to 'elp. wherever it is you are. i'll find a way. '

it's quiet again, but not silent. the creak of a mattress, the pad of bare feet on wood, the pouring of a drink. humming, soft and absent-minded. a sip, and a sigh. a smack of lips. sharing a late night with her, even when she's not around to hear.

' right. i'll let you go, then. you be good, now. '

day 12.

' oi, i know a couple days is relative to you n'i, but at least drop a line at the end of week one, yeah? so i know you're still breathin'? '

light and humorous, syllables tripping in the dizzy spirals of sleeplessness. there's crashing in the background, like someone's going to town on a hunk of metal with a wrench. it fades slightly with a shuffle of shoes in dirt, as though he's belatedly realized the potential for eardrum damage and stepped away.

' been workin' me tail off over 'ere, chasin' ghost stories. been some weird shite with the veil between worlds recently, gettin' thinner in places. nothin' cataclysmic, mind, easy fixes all. but i wouldn't mind havin' my best girl at me side, one'o these times. smooths things over when there's a less breakable pretty face around. '

the banging in the background stops, followed by a vague holler. a laugh barks into the receiver, half-mischief, half-mocking.

' chas sends 'is love. as best he can do, anyways, you know chas. try t'dig the one stick out of his arse, all you'll wind up with is two — geroff! '

the scuffled sounds of wrestling take up the line, phone speaker knocking between fingers and furniture as scouse and london overlap incoherently in a battle for dominion of speech. it's almost a full minute before a hasty ' alright, alright, fuck! ' that signals surrender ( point to chas ) and the clatter subsides, voice returning to the speaker with a scornful huff.

' big pillock. anyway, you 'eard him, love and all that. be well, yeah? chuck us a good word when you've got the chance, you know it'd give me peace'o mind an' all. see you soon, i hope. '

day 52.

' c'mon, answer. ' curt, stressed, stern. teetering on a cliff-edge between detached and despairing. ' fucking answer, lilly. whatever you've gotten yerself into, whatever's happened, i need to 'ear you say you're fine. or you're not fine, or you're bloody well awful, or you 'ate my guts and have fucked off to switzerland to become a nun. something. give me something. '

a sharp, shuddering breath in. the thud of a fist against a solid surface from close-range: table, maybe, from the accompanying rattle and the slither of paper to the floor. pacing steps chase more haphazard sounds across wood, like rolling bottles and the skitter of scattered pencils.

' just give me one word. ' there's no hard edge to that one, no stoic pretense; he sounds lonely. he sounds like he's grieving. ' please. just . . . pick up the bloody phone. give me one word, an' i won't call again. '

long, long silence. the sharp snikt of a lighter flicking open and on, and the accompanying sizzle of paper catching a little too close to the speaker. a deep breath in, a harsh one out.

then a frustrated growl, and the crunch of glass.

day 120.

' "gone for a few days". ' it's acid, chemical backwash from a long night and a few bevs and four months of radio silence. he sounds bitter, sounds scraped-thin — sounds a few bottles off from making friends with the toilet seat. ' cosmic bleedin' check-up. i found yer fucking note, y'know. doesn't make it any better. you should've told me to my bloody face, 'cos this? this is . . . this is. '

clink and clatter of glass rolling, a wordless snarl with no bite. long, steady silence, with the soft rustle of hands in hair.

' haven't stopped looking, but i can't find you. you know i can't find you, don'tje? did you plan it like that? to just up n'leave and i'll never see you again? that's fucked, lilly. you know that's fucked. '

a low, aching laugh, angry and desperate and beyond anything else, exhausted, and the clumsy thud of fingers seeking out the end button that almost drowns out the rest:

' do you care? '

day 164.

nothing spoken; just the soft sounds of movement. quiet breaths, shaky at the ends, unsteady. too loud to be self-soothing, too quiet to be shameless.

there's a few hitching starts, like he's going to speak. a swallow here, a half-formed consonant there. it comes to nothing.

the call comes to nothing.

day 260.

' i'm done. '

this voice is flat. hollowed out of anything and everything he might have wanted to give her. something's been lost between this call and the last, something irreplaceable, something ripped and carved and flayed out of him. even the shiver of loss that threatens to trip his tongue is muted, like it's coming from thousands of fathoms below the sea, where mortal things either evolve under pressure or crush like aluminium cans.

he didn't evolve.

' this is maudlin. it's not doing any good. you're just as dead as my s — ' a muted sound, choking on something unvoiced. a swallow so loud it pops in the speaker. he returns compacted, composed, syllables strung so crisp and tight there's no way for emotion to creep between the lines. ' . . . and if you're not, you made your decisions. i'm not in 'em. so let's pack it in and quit while we're ahead, yeah? before you ruin me pretty speech and pick up the phone. '

this silence builds on itself like static: longer than all the rest, and heavier. weighing down, and down, and down.

finally, after a breadth of time so long it goes immeasurable, an empty little chuckle.

' yeah. s'what i thought you'd say. '

day 300.

340. 350. 360.

day 364.

a drink and a note slide along the bar top. he looks up.

he won't look anywhere else for hours.

@asteritm / MIDNIGHT CALLS

[a30somethingslookatpopculture]

Top 10 Holiday Themed Horror Movies

(In no particular order)

Any holiday goes! With the exception of one, I will be avoiding more than one film from a franchise. Because otherwise, I could just fill this list with Friday The 13th films and call it a day. But the one I am making an expectation for is self explanatory, as it's COMPLETELY different from the rest of the series.

Friday The 13th

Yes, it is holiday themed in name only, but hey, any excuse for me to watch slasher films every F13, i’m in! There’s nothing I can say about this film that I haven’t said a thousand times before. It is my favorite movie of all-time

 My Bloody Valentine (OG)

Hearts ripped out & sent in heart shaped Valentines with fun poems…A killer who emerges on February 14th to kill those who have parties that day? Sign me up! This one required just a little bit of internal debate, because I thoroughly enjoy the remake as well. But I ultimately decided on the original. I am an 80s Slasher movie junkie! That being said, I love the look and feel of this film more. The spx are so fantastic that even the director threw up at the sight of one of them. That’s pretty awesome to me!  I also love the authentic look of the mine (coal mining means a great deal to me). The laundromat scene is probably one of my top favorite horror movie scenes. And shoutout to “The Ballad of Harry Warden” that plays at the end, too! It’s a bop! (Gosh, am I old for using that term? lol)

 Halloween III: Season Of The Witch

To me, this is the ultimate Halloween movie! It captures both the spooky, horror atmosphere as well as the commercialism of the holiday. And a bonus, the masks are modeled after classic Halloween figures.

Halloween 

It’s Halloween, everyone’s entitled to one good scare! Halloween is the better movie, I just have a soft spot in my heart for III. Again, there’s nothing I could say about 1978’s Halloween that hasn’t been said before. It is probably THE holiday movie of all holiday movies.

Gremlins

As much as I love Christmas, most films I wait until December to watch. But Gremlins is one that I can watch at any time of the year, and I'm always down for it. I adore it! It captures the feel of Christmas so perfectly. Snowy landscapes, the decor, caroling Mogwai/Gremlins, kills using Christmas items, Gismo is even given as a Christmas present! 

Black Christmas

This is one of the earliest Slasher movies, starring the great Margot Kidder. It takes the classic killer calling from inside the house trope and makes the most magical time of the year scary. There’s nothing I can say about this one that hasn’t been said before. It’s well worth the watch! 

Silent Night, Deadly Night

Another Christmas one, because how could I not? This time, Santa is our killer. Sort of. It’s very festive and has some gory-good kills! Here’s looking at you, antler scene! 

Leprechaun

The great Warrick Davis is a cunning and witty leprechaun in this one, who kills for his gold. It’s a fun St. Patrick’s Day watch each year that's full of laughs (any of the films really, but especially this one). And hey, we have to thank this movie for jumpstarting Jennifer Aniston’s career! 

Trick 'r Treat

This one tells five separate but interconnected stories on Halloween night. Each spooky, and fun in their own way. But little “Sam”, a supernatural trick or treater, is the real star of the film. He‘s there to enforce the “rules of Halloween” with his candy themed weapons! He’s oddly adorable. 

Happy Death Day

Groundhogs Day…but on your Birthday? What a wonderful idea! Add in being killed over and over again on your special day. What a wild concept. 

Honorable Mention: My Bloody Valentine (Remake), Thankskilling, Valentine, Jack Frost, Krampus, I Know What You Did Last Summer, Jaws - those two totally count in my mind lol